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wardenparker · 2 years

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Close Encounters of the Toothy Kind

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Reader has a nickname right up front.* Evan being his whiny self. Alcohol consumption but no one’s judgement is impaired. Light power dynamics, biting (blood is drawn), oral sex (female receiving), hair pulling, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fucking, rough sex, vampire kink/fetish. Summary: The company Halloween party is way more fun than you ever expected - even if your coworker and roommate Evan doesn’t think so. Notes: Happy Spooktober everyone! This little fangbang has been brewing in our minds for months now and it turned out even better than I ever dreamed! Smothered in pop culture references and plenty of cheeky fun. 🎃🧡🧛‍♀️

Ever since Max Phillips was in high school, he knew how to throw a party. It helped get him laid both there and later on in college. Even throughout getting his MBA and graduating, his attention to detail for having a good time led to some of the most memorable parties on campus. It was something he considered a little extra that he had to offer a company beyond the normal impressive résumé. Because in order to throw a great party, you had to know what people wanted. You had to read their wants through the small conversations and the body language of the person.

It was also useful in closing deals and impressing clients. Which was why he had pulled out all the stops tonight in the annual Halloween party. It wasn't just a sad, alcohol-free punch and those horrid cookies that Zarabeth makes. This is impressive. The smoke machines and black lights contrasted the disco balls that twirl overhead giving the event a truly spooky vibe.

"You'll see, Cat." Evan looks around nervously, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin under your elbow as he propels the two of you forward into the "East Ballroom" swallowing as he takes in the decorations. "I'm not crazy. Max is a vampire."

“Ev, it’s okay to just not like the guy.” Evan is an okay roommate. He really is. He’s clean and doesn’t cook horrible food, and he’s even handy with a toolkit when things need a little TLC. But this crusade he’s been on against your boss is just insane. Pulling at your tight Camp Crystal Lake t-shirt and smoothing your short shorts, you’ll be the first to admit that you took the easy way out with your costume this year, but Friday the 13th camp counselor was just too good to pass up. The Halloween store in town even had knee socks with Jason’s hockey mask on them to go with your Keds sneakers. “Let’s just have a couple of drinks and hang out. Maybe not get weird over your obsessive hatred of our boss?”

"I'm telling you he's a vampire!" Evan hisses, the cords in his neck bulging and he doesn't understand why you don't believe him. He looks around and groans, rolling his eyes and pointing. "He's even mocking it. Look at him." Max smirks as he watches you and Evan at the entrance of the ball room. Evan looked panicked and pale. He wonders if the poor schmuck is still trying to convince everyone that he's a vampire. It is so much fun to watch him freak out like the obsessive little turd that he is and push everyone away with his theories. Amanda had finally dumped him for good and started dating Andrew, which was a much better prospect for her in Max's opinion. He takes his eye off you and checks the buffet table again. The caterer that he had chosen had promised him that the canapés would all be haunted and ghoulish and so far they hadn't disappointed.

“Oh hell yeah, Lost Boys!” You grin, seeing the costume that Max has expertly pieced together. Max Phillips might be a frat boy and occasional asshat, but he has an attention for detail that has to be admired. And frankly? He’s ridiculously hot. A fact only enhanced by leather and eyeliner, in your opinion. Sure he’s a little obnoxious, so you just keep the fact that you have a little – okay, big – thing for him on the quiet side. Especially since your roommate despises him. “Evan,” you look at your roommate now, decked out in his Van Helsing costume like he’s in some kind of righteous crusade. “I am begging you to just let tonight be about fun and not this hyper focus.”

Evan rolls his eyes and gives you a disappointed look. "You're going to believe me." He promises you. "By the end of tonight, you will know the truth - Max Phillips is a vampire."

"I sure am." Max agrees easily, appearing at your side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "David from Lost Boys." He clarifies. "Glad you can make it Camp Crystal Lake Counselor." He doesn't waste the opportunity to look at your legs, you've got them on display after all and you aren't on company property.

"Max." Evan greets him through clenched teeth, furious that he's touching you.

“Evan made me a name tag,” you tell Max with a grin, pointing to the sticky Hi! My Name Is badge on your shirt that features your office nickname - Cat - and a little cartoon drawing of black cat beside it. “Nice party, Max.” You may keep your attraction under wraps, but that doesn’t mean you can’t just be a generally nice person.

“Thanks Kitty Cat.” Max sends you a small wink and looks around. “We’ve got a couple of our clients and potential clients here so I could get away with splurging. Plus, I love Halloween.” He smirks over at Evan. “All the things that go bump in the night come out.”

“Does that mean there’s good booze?” You ask, one eyebrow ticking up at Max curiously. Splurging on clients might mean there’s actually something tasty. “I heard a rumor about sangria or punch or something, but that might have been Elaine’s wishful thinking.”

“Ohhhh the Bloody Sangria is my own recipe.” He tells you with a grin. “There’s also Witches Brew, Poisoned Apples and Demon Juice.” He points to the bar where premixed cocktails are being poured up into glasses where the base is a skeleton’s hand.

“Sangria for sure.” That stupid exaggerated grin on Max’s face shouldn’t be charming, but he’s got vampire fang caps on his teeth and alright, maybe you had a little thing for Kiefer Sutherland as a teenager that the Lost Boys costume is playing into. To Evan you throw a pout, silently asking him to play nice before heading to the bar with Max.

“Make sure you get some appetizers too.” Max hums knowingly. “Those drinks sneak up on you and we don’t want you buzzed too quickly.” He catches the eye of a prospective client and pats your shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later, enjoy yourself Kitty Cat.”

“Come on, Ev.” You reach for his hand but resist when he tries tangling your fingers together, tired of repeating that you are not interested in him romantically. He’s a good roommate and a decent friend, but as a boyfriend? Not your type at all. “Drink with me, eat with me. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not touching anything Max could have corrupted.” Evan huffs, annoyed that you are so flirty with him. You need to just trust him.

“He’s not going to poison our clients.” Rolling your eyes at him is still playful, because you’ve definitely always thought of Evan as more of a brother than anything else, and you nod toward the bar. “I bet they have beer in bottles that Max can’t have tainted with his spooky vampire vibes.”

Evan blows out a sigh and dutifully follows you like a lost puppy, wondering how he can possibly convince you about Max. “Hey man.” Tim smirks and lifts the glass of alcohol up. “You came.”

“I had to drag him out of the apartment,” you tease, giving Tim a hug before slipping past him to the bar for a glass of sangria.

“Would you like an extra shot of Vampire’s blood in your sangria?” The bartender asks with a smile. “It’s a floater of blackberry moonshine.”

“Why the hell not. Go big or go home, right?” You laugh, cringing at the cliched phrase before you shrug your shoulders. “And a Bud Light.” The least you can do is grab Evan’s first beer for him, since you did drag him out tonight. Being convinced that some socialization that didn’t happen under neon lights with phone headsets attached to your heads would be good for him might not have been correct.

Evan looks around the room in jealousy, begrudgingly impressed with the party. Hating how this man took his job and was actually doing a bang-up job. He takes the beer from you and eyes it for a moment before he hears Max’s laugh across the room. “Fuck it.” He groans and puts the bottle to his lips.

“Atta boy,” Tim laughs before strolling away when he spies someone he wants to say hi to across the large room.

“Eat, drink, and be merry,” you agree with a grin. You just want tonight to be fun. Maybe get Evan talking to the new girl from Legal that he said was cute a couple of days ago. Anything to get his mind away from the vampire thing.

Max keeps an eye on you as he makes his way around the room. Partly because it drives Evan insane. He might have made a couple of veiled threats to change you next. But mostly it was because he was very intrigued by the way your tits look up under that t-shirt. He had plenty of fantasies about his counselors when he was younger and his grandma made him go to the sleep away vacation Bible camps in the summer.

******

The deejay they hired for tonight is doing an excellent job of keeping the energy up, and you walk past the table just in time to hear Deliah from HR begging him to play Thriller again, making you laugh as you hit the bar. This sangria is addictive and you lean back against the sturdy wood to look around the room while the bartender pours you glass number three. Evan has finally started talking to the girl from Legal and from where you are it looks like she might even be interested in him so you send up a little positive energy in his direction and sigh. Maybe now you can actually relax and find someone to dance with - a thought which feels slightly bitchy considering you know Evan would dance with you if you asked. But you’d like to dance with someone you’re attracted to, which seriously narrows the field around here.

Max chuckles to himself when he sees you going back for another drink. He slides up behind you, leaning over your shoulder to murmur in your ear. “Enjoying yourself, Kitty Cat?”

“Max!” You didn’t see him approach and definitely would have done a spit take if you had had a sip of drink in your mouth when he spoke. “Uh— yeah, actually. Your sangria’s really good.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” He purrs with a delighted smile. “I like the body of it.” He waggles his brows. “And the way that it sneaks up on you.”

“The body of the bloody sangria?” It’s dumb, and you probably wouldn’t laugh at it if you weren’t two drinks in and finding the 80s vamp look on him a little extra hot. “Har har.”

Max winks at you. “Planning on being the first victim of the night?” He asks, leaning in. “Or are you going to be the counselor that survives?”

“Oh, come on.” Leaning back against the bar, you toss him the same smirk you would give anybody in this situation. “Nobody wants to die first. I’m totally Final Girl material. Nancy Thompson, Laurie Strode, and me.”

“You sure?” He leans in and flicks your name badge. “Kitty Cat survives?” He hums, smirking at you.

“For sure.” The authoritative nod you give him when the bartender sets your drink down beside your elbow comes with a grin. “I’m not afraid of some big bad monster.”

“Really?” He flashes his fangs at you playfully. Everyone thinks they are fake but why would he do fake fangs when he has the real thing. “Not even a skipping beat of your heart?”

“Not even.” It’s a dirty lie because you’re a damn scaredy cat, but at the same time you do love the adrenaline rush of a scary movie. The fake fangs are more of a turn on than anything else, which is probably the real reason your blood is currently pumping.

“I think you’re lying.” He coos, leaning in closer and brushing his nose against your pulse. The smell of your blood is intoxicating, and he groans quietly.

“Rude.” You laugh, picking up your drink and nudging him with your elbow. Maybe it’s a little more flirtatious than you would ever be regularly, but this is outside of work hours, outside of the office, and it’s a party.

“Just honest, Kitty cat.” He chuckles, watching you take another sip of your drink.

“I don’t know why I let you call me that.” Yes you do. You absolutely know why. It’s because he’s hot as fuck. It had taken almost a year to accept being called Cat at work and then Max just rolled in and added kitty to it and you just let it slide. “Maybe I instinctively knew you’d have a killer sangria recipe that I’d want to steal.”

“Better than what I was going to call you when I first met you.” He confides with a cocky grin.

“Oh god.” You choke on a laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “Do I want to know?”

He snickers to himself and shuffles closer. Leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Pussy…Cat.” He purrs, making sure to emphasize the first word.

That…is not what you expected, and you definitely feel a very visceral reaction to Max’s breath on your neck. You can practically feel your panties drench at the implication that he might be interested in you, too. But that’s…that’s a stretch, right? It has to be. Max flirts with all the women in the office.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He hums, wondering if he’s misread the subtle signals you’ve sent him.

“A little.” You have to admit that, as silly as it makes you feel when you tilt your head to look at him. “Surprised, I guess?”

“Why would you be surprised?” He lifts his brows, shocked that you didn’t know that you are a gorgeous woman. “Every man in this room would take you home if they could.”

“Maybe.” Shrugging, you take another sip of your drink before turning to face him fully. Whether it’s the booze or the atmosphere or the light-switch flick of a mood change, you’re feeling bold. “But I’m not interested in them.”

“And who are you interested in?” He asks, intrigued by who would be your taste. Surely not Evan, he’s heard him moan about you turning him down to Tim too often in the break room.

“Seriously?” It’s probably a good thing that he has to ask, it means you haven’t been too obvious at work. Although you kind of thought you were being pretty obvious right now. “I mean, don’t fire me over it, but…you…”

“Hmmmmm.” Max flashes you a wicked, fanged-filled grin. “That’s not something I would ever fire you over Pussy Cat.”

“That nickname is gonna stick now, isn’t it?” You can feel the heat in your cheeks, nerves and embarrassment rising right along with arousal. He’s looking at you half like you’re a fucking meal and half like something else that you can’t quite pinpoint but you’re fairly certain you’re going to enjoy.

“Yes it is.” He chuckles again. “But only when we’re alone.”

“We’re never alone.” More than anything it’s just pointing out a fact. Aside from the rare occasion that he has called you into his office, The two of you have never actually been alone. Maybe once you were the only two people in the break room at the same time, but that was in passing and the door was open. It wasn’t exactly private.

“Then maybe we should be alone.” Max offers with a smirk. He can smell your interest, but he wants this to be completely your choice.

“Seriously?” You ask again, still a little incredulous that he could be interested. “I mean…I didn’t think…” But he’s looking at you like that and you swallow the lump in your throat so hard that it bottoms out all the way down in your pussy. “I mean, yeah. That sounds like fun.”

“Yeah?” He bites his lip with his fangs exposed. “You want to be alone?” He waits for you to nod and he smirks. “How about now?”

“Eager.” But it makes you flush with your own fervent desire, wondering if he means just finding a dark corner of the party, leaving together, or if his mind has jumped straight to hooking up. It occurs to you, as you smirk and pick up your drink to down it quickly (no sense in wasting, obviously) that you don’t care. “Fuck it. Yeah. What do you have in mind?” Evan is going to be so fucking pissed but you just can’t bring yourself to care at the moment.

He chuckles, surprised that you’ve said yes, but also very happy that you have. “I think the innocent camp counselor should go into the bathroom to be ravished by the dangerous vampire.” He hums as he lifts a brow.

Straight to hooking up, you acknowledge with a smirk. It doesn’t really surprise you. Max isn’t exactly known as a relationship guy around the office. Either way, you don’t mind making him a notch on your proverbial bedpost tonight. “You go for the innocent thing, huh?” It makes your smirk deepen just that much more. “Noted,” you murmur in his ear before taking the strut all the way out of your step and hightailing it out of the hotel ballroom toward the unisex bathroom down the hall.

Max watches you walk away for a long moment, admiring the view. “Turned you down, huh?” Evan’s pithy little comment makes his smirk reappear as he turns towards the other man.

“Guess so.” He chirps, unwilling to let Evan cause a scene and prevent his little rendezvous with you. Some sacrifices must be made and right now, wiping the smug, satisfied look off Evan’s face is on the chopping block.

“She’ll never date you. Or fuck you.” He tells Max, his eyes darting around but the little fucker is brave around a crowd in the ballroom - confident Max won’t cause a scene. “So you should just leave her alone.”

“Same could be said for you, slugger.” Max pops back with a wink. “After all, if I lived in the same apartment with that little Kitty Cat, I’m sure I would have wooed her by now.” He chuckles and gives Evan a sympathetic look. “Guess you just aren’t what she’s looking for…” Max lets Evan stew for a moment and right when the other man opens his mouth, he interrupts him. “Whelp! I better go take a piss, all the Bloody cocktails have gotten to me.” He smirks. “Try the special sangria I have behind the bar.” He confides. “They have it just for me, but tell them Max said it was okay.” He turns around and whistles as he walks towards the bathrooms, knowing Evan is fuming.

It takes just long enough before you hear footsteps outside the bathroom door for you to start doubting yourself. Wondering if you just made a completely dumbass mistake that’s going to make life hell at work from now on, or if Max really did use the specific word ravishing or a million other little paranoid concerns. You’re in the process of telling yourself to get a goddamn grip when the bathroom door clicks open.

Max raises a brow at you, seeing the doubt and second guessing on your face. “Change your mind, Pussy Cat?” He asks as he steps inside and closes the door. If you don’t want to do this, it wouldn’t be nice to have the rumor mill spin if someone looked in and saw the two of you. “I got caught up by Evan trying to warn me away from you.”

“Thought you might have changed yours,” you admit, but the news that it was Evan who caused the delay makes you relax again instantly. “Ev’s just…protective.”

He snorts and sends you a knowing look. “Evan wants to be in your bed.” He counters. “He’s like the annoying little puppy that chews on your shoelaces and tries - and fails - to hump your leg.”

“To be fair, he’s never actually tried to hump my leg.” The comparison makes you laugh though, and you shake your head. “He knows I’m not interested in him.”

“He knows…but he doesn’t know.” Max smirks as he flips the lock and takes a step towards you. “He might get the hint tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” It’s not like you had been planning on broadcasting this little interlude around the office, so the idea of news of it getting back to Evan hadn’t even been on your mind.

“Only if you wanted.” He chuckles, reaching out and stroking your arm, his eyes on yours. “He’ll know when you scream my name.”

The corners of your lips tick up in a smirk as you step into him, feeling your heart speed up and your pussy clench at that kind of promise. “I guess you better make sure I scream loud enough, then.”

Max’s eyes flash and his smirk grows wider. “Only thing I like more than making a sale is a challenge, Pussy Cat.” He growls, stalking towards you like a predator cornering his prey.

It would probably come across as way too dramatic if you weren’t honestly so goddamn turned on, but as it is? You’re in exactly the right frame of mind to find that broad frame and cocky ass smirk enticing as hell. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Permission.” Quicker than he probably should have, but not enough to be too obvious, Max pins you against the row of industrial yet aesthetically pleasing sinks and hand soap units. Your back is to the mirror, and he leers with his nose pressed right against yours.

Your sharp gasp and wide eyes definitely lend themselves toward that whole innocent thing he supposedly likes, and the way he has your back bowed so that your tits are pushed against his chest is only adding to the heaving effect. "Max..."

"Yessssss, Pussy Cat?" He doesn't kiss you, not yet. He likes the teasing and the way that your breath catches in your throat. It makes the veins flood with blood and it smells so sweet as your body heats up even more than normal.

"Shit..." The realization makes you roll your eyes even as you're nearly panting in anticipation. "Of course you're a tease."

He tsks in disappointment at your seemingly bemoaning of his traits. "You don't think it enhances...." his 'fake' fangs graze your throat slowly before he retracts them and places the most delicate kiss on your galloping pulse, "anticipation?"

The way you almost whimper is a complete giveaway that it definitely is an enhancement, and you shiver a little. Being caged between his arms against the counter makes you feel caught in a delicious sort of way. "M-maybe."

"Hmmmmm." Max is already hard, pressing against your hip through your camp counselor shorts and one hand moves from the cold counter to grab your side. "Don't worry, Pussy Cat." He follows up the small kiss with a slow drag of his tongue up the line of your neck. "I won't bite hard...unless you want me to."

Evan’s ridiculous vampire claim rings in your ears again, completely unwanted, and you smirk as you tip your head to one side to give him all the access to your neck as he could possibly want. “It’s been a while since I’ve been properly manhandled,” you murmur, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth as his head hangs right beside yours. “Sounds like fun.”

Max hisses, cock jumping when your teeth nip his skin. "Fuck." He huffs, trying to decide if he wants a quickie, or if he just wants to destroy you. Your giggle makes up his mind for him, pulling away and dropping down to his knees to unbutton those ridiculously tiny shorts you are wearing. The prospect of devouring your cunt while you have knee highs and sneakers on is appealing.

"Shit." Max Phillips on his knees is not a sight you ever thought you'd see - both because you didn't ever think you'd actually be in this position with him and a little bit because you thought he might be one of those guys who was prissy about the smell or taste of pussy as an excuse to never give oral - but it's fucking glorious. It takes all of thirty seconds for your cutoffs to be tossed across the damn room, and Max's eyes are eye level with the soaked through crotch of your white cotton panties.

"Virginal." He hums, smirking up at you before he reaches out and rubs the damp fabric. "Even though I know you aren't, it makes you look even more like a teenage counselor that might survive the night."

Looking down at him with the most innocent expression you can muster, you can see just how wide his pupils have grown since getting the first bit of your clothing off. "Of course I'm innocent. I don't know why you would possibly think otherwise." You intone, wondering if he's into roleplay enough to want the whole act.

He chuckles, hooking a finger in the band of your panties so he can start dragging them down. "Because good virginal girls don’t let sinful vampires eat their pussy in the bathroom." He teases, leaning in and blowing on your heated pussy lips and giving you a fang-filled smile.

This time your whimper is accompanied by the eager way you open up for him, totally willing to spread your legs for him before he's even kissed you. It's not like you're expecting a lasting and deep connection out of fucking your boss in the bathroom at the company party. You're horny, not delusional.

Your ass is perched against the counter so Max wastes no time in shoving his shoulders under your legs, bringing your thighs to his shoulders and he winks at you, right before his mouth envelopes your cunt in a large bite, his fangs retracting again so he doesn't puncture your lips.

They definitely heard you moaning in the hallway, but you couldn't care less as you brace yourself with one hand on the counter and sink the fingers of your other hand into his thick, artfully messy hair. The heat of his mouth and determination of his tongue as he licks a long, flat stripe up the length of your sex is enough to have you tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in pleasure. Or it would be, if you didn't want to watch his every movement so desperately.

There is an art to pussy eating. He had tried to tell Evan that when the prick was in college with him, but he had been too busy thinking Max was an asshole. It might have been one of the reasons his roommate's girlfriend had jumped into his bed when Evan was away for a long weekend. She had obviously listened to the tips he had tried to impart. Enough to be curious, at least. His tongue twists around your clit and he flicks it playfully before his tongue slides down again, curious to taste you right from the honeyed little well between your thighs. Your fingers curl tightly, nails digging into his scalp instinctively before soothing the bite away. Apparently you never noticed Max having an overly long tongue, but he is curled into the absolute depths of you in a way that has you rolling your hips forward and pushing down as if he isn't already completely buried in your cunt.

Max groans into your folds, loving how you don't mind being a little more forceful. His cock twitches and he holds your legs wide so he can curl his tongue deeper, licking into you with fevered eagerness. He knows what the fuck he's doing, you'll give him that. Any idea that you had about him being selfish in bed is being completely washed away by the deep growling sounds floating up to you from his throat and the way those vibrations roll through your body to have you whining and writhing and almost ready to burst in no time.

His eyes fixate on you. Responding to the micro expressions as he works your cunt with his tongue. If you’re going to fuck him; you’re damn well going to have nothing but good things to say about him. His fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs and he huffs, not needing to breathe, but you would expect him to make some noise.

“Holy shit, Max—” Every time you get a gulp of air he pushes it out again, cutting off your moan of his name and twisting it into a harsh gasp with a dexterous flick of his tongue that swirls around your clit like a lollipop. “S—so— good! Fuck.”

He chuckles into you, waiting until you look down at him again before he sends you a small wink and sucks your clit into his mouth, ripping your orgasm out of you.

You’ve never outright just screamed while cumming before, but this one comes tearing out of you like an igniting fire that leaves you shaking and cursing and grasping at any bit of him you can get your hands on so that you don’t just collapse backward into one of the sinks behind you. “Oh my fucking god, Max.” You’re practically dizzy from the force of it, which just makes you giggle in filthy glee when you can breathe again.

He is smug as he kisses your clit one last time before he leans back and looks up at you. “Did I pass muster, counselor?” He teases.

“With the first test.” You nod eagerly, getting air back in your lungs as you reach to drag him up for a kiss. You haven’t gotten to yet and now that he’s had his mouth on you, you’re dying to indulge.

Max goes willingly, fusing his mouth to yours and sliding his hands up under your shirt. Wanting to get his hands on your tits for a long time, he moans as he cups them over your bra and slides his tongue into your mouth at the same time.

Moaning into the kiss is a natural instinct. His large hands envelope your overheated skin easily, somehow easing the heat of arousal at the same time he intensifies it. It’s you who tears your shirt away, ready to just throw every stitch aside and thoroughly fucking enjoy yourself.

He pulls away from you to admire the view as he unhooks your bra and tosses it away. "Fucking in your shoes, I'm digging it." He teases, pinching your nipples and ducking down to pull one into his mouth.

“Feels—” His talented mouth cuts you off and you almost squeal, letting it dissolve into a sinful moan. “Dirtier.” You finish your thought with one hand cradling his head to your tits encouragingly and the other fisting his shirt blindly to follow the trail of his torso down to the pronounced bulge in his pants.

"You are dirty." He groans, pulling off your tit with a pop and then biting it playfully before he nips the other. "Gonna fuck you like the dirty fucking girl you are right here."

“It’s a good thing you got my pussy nice and wet, then.” With one hand wrapped around the thick length protruding from his pants, your other starts working open his belt. “It’ll be nice and easy to slide that big cock in right away.”

He smirks and stands straight while you pull open his pants and groans when his cock is your hot hands. "Fuck." He hisses, twitching when your thumb presses against the tip. "I'm gonna be balls deep and die happy." He jokes.

"You mean you're not a real undead bad boy?" Putting on a pout of faux disappointment keeps you from laughing, knowing that he knows all about Evan's Max is a vampire crusade. The very last thing you're about to do when you have his thick length throbbing in your hand is laugh. "Darn."

He doesn't even answer you, just thrusts into your grip. "Line me up, Pussy Cat." He hums. "I'm gonna make you cum like this then I'm going to turn you over so I can watch your ass bounce."

"Promises, promises," you tease, not that you have any doubt he can do it. He's not even out of breath while you're a panting and whimpering mess. You don't hesitate to do as he tells you, though, leaning back a little to let your legs fall open wide so that you can position the blunt head of his cock at the entrance of your dripping pussy.

"Fuck, look at that pretty little pussy cat." He smirks and watches you while he breeches your entrance and starts filling you steadily, inch by inch.

He feels thicker splitting you open than he did in your hand, and your head drops back when you let out a deep groan of pleasure. Max doesn’t stop until he’s fully bottomed out inside you and you don’t want him to - making lascivious noises of approval with every inch until his hips are flush against yours and then you’re diving back in for more kisses. Wrapping your arms around his neck keeps him close but you grind your hips down against his and whimper happily. “Fuck me, baby. Come on. Need you.”

Max snarls slightly, his grip turning bruising for a split second before he relaxes and grins at you. "I can do that, sweetheart." He growls. "Guaranteed." Pulling his hips back, he snaps them forward harshly.

“Yes!” The force of the thrust pushes you back on the counter and you keep your arms around Max, sinking your teeth playfully into his neck for a moment because he seemed to have liked you using your teeth earlier. “Just like that.”

"Fuck." His dick twitches deep inside you and his own fangs spring out of his gums. He doesn't bite you though. Not wanting to change you right now, so he just keeps his head over your shoulder so you don't see his slightly feral expression. His hips rock faster after you bite him, ready to give you what you want.

It’s fierce and needy after that. Rough in all the right ways, like you hadn’t been the only one secretly pining in the office ever since Max joined the company earlier in the year. Or, if not pining, you definitely weren’t the only one with filthy thoughts about the other. Every once in a while his grip tightens to near bruising and you moan every time, loving the harshness of a little pain with your pleasure. You’ve always been that way and know for a fact that Evan is gentler than a basket of fluffy kittens, which is one of the reasons you just never had any interest in your roommate. But this? This is your kind of fucking - dirty and delicious.

Groans pour out of his mouth, not because he's winded or anything human, but because you are fucking perfect. Taking his pace, his eagerness and wanting more. He can feel the way that you get even wetter when he forgets not to crush you for a second. Loses control slightly. It's intoxicating and your blood – fuck, it's like ambrosia right under the skin.

There’s no chance that people haven’t figured out what’s going on in here - from the locked door to your combined sounds to the harsh slap of skin on damp skin. Max’s cock is battering your pussy in the very best way and you hope like hell that you’ll be as sore as you think you will tomorrow. The idea of carrying that with you for a few days sounds perfect, especially if this is only going to be a one-time thing. Just a perfect little capsule of a memory of that one time you got railed in a hotel bathroom. Even that thought makes you gasp out in pleasure, legs tightening around his waist as you can feel the familiar twist of orgasm in your belly building up again.

“You gonna cum?” Max asks, smirking at you as he keeps drilling into you over and over again. He knows you are close, that fluttering little pussy of yours is about to explode and soak him. “Yeah, you are.” He huffs smugly. “Do it, Pussy Cat.”

You barely have it in you to be sassy in the moment, just rambling whatever pops into your head, and your fingers are digging into his leather covered shoulders with a tight pressure that doesn’t seem to phase him in the least. You turn your head to drag your teeth along the juncture of his long neck to egg him on. “So good,” you whine breathlessly, sucking hot marks into his skin with enthusiasm. “So fucking good, Max — fuck I’m gonna cum so hard.”

Max feels his face start to change, growling harshly and planting his face in your neck while he ramps up his pace to just beyond what is humanly possible. Wanting to feel it and hear you scream. “Do it.”

It takes mere seconds more, and you’re clinging to him when you feel the rush of overheated blood become an equally overheated flood from your cunt that drenches his cock with an unbelievable amount of cum. It’s so intense that your whole body locks up, turning your scream of his name into a strangled wail as you fall apart.

Hissing, Max doesn’t fuck you through it, instead he’s pulling out of you and manhandling you like a rag doll. Flipping you over and letting you fall forward while he pulls your cheeks apart and sinks back into your cunt with a victorious hum when your walls are still pulsing.

“Goddamn—fuuuck Max!” The strangled sob is punctuated by his name when he spears his cock back into you completely, burying his length to the hilt and extending the end of your orgasm so that your body shakes again in ecstasy as you try to grasp at anything on the counter so you don’t end up face down in a sink. You had no idea he was this strong - making you feel like a rag doll in his arm as he finds his rhythm again.

Now he’s grinning, watching his cock spear into you and make your ass bounce. His hands grip your hips as he rails into you. “Do it again.” He growls, wanting to feel you cum again. It’s a point of pride and he’s loving how you take it.

You’re about to gasp out a joke about how you’re gonna need a little more time before you can cum again when you lift your head to find his eyes in the mirror — and can’t find his face at all. The reflection of his clothing is clear as day: duster and shirt and torn open pants Moving behind you in rhythm with the merciless way he’s fucking you and fingerless gloves gripping tight to your hips as you find your own reflection unblemished in the large bathroom mirror. But Max? Max is as transparent as a summer breeze, only affecting the things he touches as you see his grip tighten on your flesh by the way the indents there deepen. You can feel it, and you can see the result, but you can’t see him.

“Holy shit…” With your eyes blown wide and the vision of your number one top fantasy right in front of you, another orgasm tears through you almost instantly. That years old pornographic dream of getting fucked by a vampire after getting through watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer is now so real that it’s turning your blood into wildfire and you can’t believe the way you moan as you shake and drench his cock all over again.

It’s your reaction that makes him slip up, the instant orgasm when you realize you don’t see his reflection. His fangs were grazing over your throat and when you clench down around him, he cuts you. Groaning when the coppery tang of your blood hits his tongue. Making him growl and start sucking sloppily while he fucks into you like the supernatural monster that he is.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” At this point you feel like your body might just tense up and be in a constant state of cumming for the rest of the time he’s fucking you. The sight of the light trickle of blood welling up on your neck only to be licked away by an invisible tongue seconds later makes you gasp and keen, and the instant realization that your vampire fantasy is now a vampire fetish just makes the whole thing better. For now the only downside is that he’s fucking you so hard that you can’t catch your breath to babble at him about how amazing it feels.

There’s a beauty to not being seen, not having his reflection in the mirror. You can’t see that his face has completely morphed. Turned into the more gruesome visage of his being. Brow heavy and eyes yellow tinged with red, Max snarls when he feels his body lock up, driving impossibly deep into your hot cunt and making a nearly demonic noise as he fills you with ropes of his impotent seed.

“Max!” Only his name falls from your tongue as he buries himself as deeply as possible in your body and follows you down the rabbit hole of pleasure. You feel boneless and wrecked and absolutely ecstatic in ways you can’t quite describe as you pant for air, crushed underneath his weight on the cold marble countertop.

He doesn’t need to recover or catch his breath. He could pull out of you right now and be perfectly fine, save for his face still being a twisted visage of the image he normally presented. Still he leans over you, savoring the feeling of your cunt fluttering and your thighs shaking. “Pussy Cat has a secret.” He teases playfully, his tongue lapping up one last drop of your blood before he bites his lip and lets a drop of his blood heal your wound as if it never happened.

“A fucking convenient one.” Still mostly breathless, you twist under him to be able to see his face. The ridges and bumps of his transformation draw your eyes across them as you take it all in, fascinated rather than terrified with his cock still buried inside you. Your eyelids flutter a little, that flash of pure attraction undeniable in your veins. The same ones he just drank from. “You’re actually a vampire?”

“Shocker.” Max makes his face smooth back out, his now brown eyes wide and his lips twisted into a grin. “Evan is actually right about something.” He chuckles and opens his mouth so his fangs descend again to show you.

“Fuck.” It’s all excitement and wonderment on your part and you can’t deny it at all. “That’s…so fucking sexy,” you admit with a self-conscious giggle.

“Knew I liked you.” He teases, slapping your ass playfully as he leans back to let you straighten up. “Least you don’t have to worry about an accident with me.”

“Thank god.” When you stand up again it’s like a miniature flood from your pussy and you laugh again. “Because you cum like a fucking Super Soaker.” It’s nothing a couple of paper towels can’t clean up, but it’s fun to tease.

“Is there any other way?” Max asks as he uses another sink to clean up and hands you the shorts you had worn. Your panties slide into his pocket with a mischievous wink to you.

“Pathetic dribbles, usually.” You’ve never been dishonest with yourself about why you’re single, knowing that you like a rougher and more physically demanding sex life and that balancing that with a man who isn’t also an absolute jackass or abusive in some way isn’t easy. It’s why you embraced the ‘Cat’ jokes. Better a cat lady than miserable or bored, at least in your book. “Don’t worry,” you murmur, offering him a smile as you slip on your shorts. “I won’t tell.”

It’s surprisingly nice to hear you say that. No fear or worry in your voice, just confidence that he can trust you to keep a secret. The only other people in the office who knew are the ones he’s already changed. And Evan’s stupid ass, but no one believes him. “Let me feed you more than lame ass Halloween cocktails and canapés tomorrow.” He says suddenly. “Before I fuck you to death again.”

“I—what?” Having reached down to pick your t-shirt and bra up off the floor, you straighten up and look at him quizzically. Not because you’re not interested, obviously, but just because you’re surprised. “Are you asking me out?”

“I mean— I guess—uh, yeah.” He frowns slightly as if he’s just worked out that is what he’s actually doing. “Unless you have a strict ‘fuck but not date your boss’ policy?” He jokes, trying to cover up the slight nervous fear that you might turn him down. That you just wanted a quick bang in the bathroom.

“Not at all.” It’s almost a pity to get dressed, but he’s already cleaned up and tucked himself away, so you clip your bra on again easily. “Actually I’ve never fucked or dated my boss before at all, so this is new territory for me.” You pull your t-shirt over your head and adjust, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Seven o’clock tomorrow? You know where I live.”

“Yeah.” Max nods, checking his clothes in the mirror and then looking back at you. “Got some blood on your shirt, Pussy Cat.”

“Call it a souvenir.” A memento, you think with a grin. Throwing him a wink, you lean in to kiss him one more time before moving back toward the door. “See you out there?” It’s an effort to not come across as clingy, that you are so overly nonchalant. Because in reality you want to prance out there on his arm and proudly dare anyone to give you shit about disappearing to fuck.

Evan pounces on you as soon as you appear out of the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “Tell me you didn’t.” He practically hisses.

“Didn’t what?” You ask, feigning innocence. Of course he was going to get nasty about this. It’s not like it’s a secret that he hates Max.

“Come on, we need to go.” Evan is nearly panicking, seeing the spot of blood on your shirt. “We’re leaving.”

“Oh my god you’re so overprotective.” Overprotective and with an annoyingly tight grip as he steers you toward the other end of the ballroom with determination. You barely have a chance to glance back, catching a glimpse of Max right before even drags you out the door. You might have even liked the little bit of manhandling if you hadn’t just been fucked within an inch of your life by a vampire.

Max chuckles to himself as he sees you pull a harsh frown at your roommate. Tomorrow is going to be fun. He hopes like hell you don’t tell Evan about your date.

******

You oversleep like hell the next day, worn out but feeling energized all the same. The ache in your thighs is so gorgeously satisfying and you sit in the living room in your pjs with a book until it’s time to shower and get ready for your date. Evan has been out doing god knows what all day with Tim so you haven’t had to avoid more arguing like the night before. It got bad enough that you have nearly threatened to move out if he tried to keep telling you what to do. By the time Evan comes home, you’re showered and dressed and finishing your makeup, just watching the clock tick down in anticipation.

“Where are you going?” The mournful eyes he gives you can’t hide being bitterly upset. He doesn’t know why you don’t believe him. He’s only got your best interests at heart, maybe a little selfish on his part, but that was to be expected.

“Out.” This time you don’t mean to be evasive, you just really don’t know where Max is taking you. “Dinner, I think. Did you have a good day?” Despite being pissed at him for presuming to tell you how to live your life, he’s still your friend.

“No.” Evan shakes his head. “I don’t want you to be mad at me, but Max is dangerous.” He stresses, imploring you to understand.

“Ev, I really don’t want to fight with you, but you need to drop it.” Pinching your eyes shut doesn’t banish the tinge of a headache that you can feel forming from the topic, and you turn to check your reflection in the mirror one more time - eventually biting back a grin when you remember looking up to see no reflection at all behind you last night. “I know you don’t like him,” you tell Evan. “But you are also very biased against him by your own admission.”

He sighs sulkily. “Want me to go with you?” He offers, wanting to find out where you are going. You’re mad at him and it’s not something he likes, but he hates you being so blasé about Max. “Maybe we could go to that bar around the corner.”

The lobby buzzer sounds from the wall panel in your kitchen at the same moment you turn and frown at your roommate. “Do I want you to come on my date with me? Come on, Evan. No. That’s both weird and honestly a little rude. Especially when I haven’t even told you who it’s with.” He’ll find out in a second, but you go over and hit the buzzer to let him into the lobby so he can come upstairs. Evan’s going to have to get over it eventually.

“You’re going on a date?” If possible, he looks even more remorseful, but he shakes his head. “I didn’t— it’s not Max, is it?”

“What if it was?” You pick up your jacket from the hook by the door and double check your pockets for your wallet, phone, and keys. “I couldn’t tell you, could I?” It just makes you shake your head, honestly a little heart sore over the whole thing. “I can’t be excited that the guy I’ve liked for ages finally asked me out because my roommate is on a righteous crusade against him.”

“It’s not a crusade!” Evan insists, reaching out for your hand. “I d-don’t want to see anything happen to you.” He doesn’t want you dating anyone but he really doesn’t want you dating Max. The idea that you have a crush on him hurts, considering you know what he did to him.

“Ev…” You sigh, turning to face him even as you hear footsteps approaching your door. “I swear, if he hurts me or doesn’t treat me right, or does anything that I don’t like, I will dump his ass faster than lightning.” Even so, the rhythmic knock on the door makes you grin, eager to see Max again after just a day.

It’s important that you qualify that you don’t like talking about Max hurting you or being disrespectful, because there are definitely kinds of ‘hurt’ that you enjoy more than most. “And I’m not asking you to suddenly be best friends with him or even spend time around him outside of work. I’m just…I really like him. And I want to see where this goes.”

Was what happened between them in college shitty? Of course. But that lies as much on Evan’s shitty girlfriend’s shoulders as anyone else in your opinion, and you squeeze his hand before going to open the door for Max.

“Hey Pussy Cat!” Max grins, wearing jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket. He peels off his sunglasses as he looks you up and down with a very pleased expression and then offers the flowers he had brought. Flowers for dates were a must. Especially after the way he fucked you. “You look good enough to eat!”

“Don’t be mean,” you chide him, knowing his hearing is good enough that he definitely just heard you defend him to Evan. The flowers he has brought are stunning - deep reds and purples dotted with blues. “Do you want to come in while I put these in water? They’re beautiful.”

“Are you inviting me in?” He waggles his brows playfully and Evan nearly turns purple.

“SEE? He has to be invited in! Only vampires do that!” Evan’s voice nearly reaches the soprano range, it’s gone up so many octaves.

Max chuckles and steps into the entryway of your apartment. “Actually pal…that’s the same for demons, goblins and warlocks. Witches get a free pass for some reason.”

“Witches are still human.” Is the explanation you offer, figuring that playing along with the game is the way to be the least conspicuous. “Do you two need to be separated while I put these in my room or can you be in the same room without killing each other?” It’s kind of an honest question, all things considered, but you raise an eyebrow at Max asking him to behave as you grab your vase from the kitchen counter.

“I’m always a team player.” Max reminds you innocently, even fluttering his lashes at you. He’s not physically hurt Evan since punching him in the nose after he had been a little shit and lied to get him expelled and academically shunned from every fucking college but the one where he was turned into a vampire. “Ev and I will be fine, won’t we?” He throws his arm around Evan’s shoulder and squeezes him close as he grins at him, enjoying the other man’s discomfort.

“Be nice, please.” Is your one request, made to both of them, before you disappear to deposit the beautiful buds in the vase that will sit on your bedside table.

“Get off of me.” Evan hisses, shrugging out from Max’s arm and turning on him. “If you hurt her…” He trails off to seem more threatening and Max shoots him a grin.

“Buddy… pal…” He coos. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be fine. Just…” He winks at Evan. “Make sure you have some good headphones tonight.”

You can hear them as you disappear down the hall and allow yourself to grin, shaking your head at the way Max doesn’t even pretend to assure Evan you won’t get hurt. Because there is no way your friend could wrap his head around the fact that having Max’s fangs cut into your skin was half of what made you cum so hard last night. Pain and pleasure mixed – and the promise of more – make you shiver with anticipation as you quickly drop the vase of flowers beside your bed.

Maybe you’ll ask Max to go back to his place, though, just so you don’t rub it in. Because you are definitely going to make some noise tonight. Your throbbing pussy insists on it.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x female reader #Bloodsucking Bastards #spooktober #monster fucking #vampire edition

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cloudycaffeinatedcryptid · 4 months

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You have to fight each of the counselors in one on one combat. Who do you win against, who do you lose against, and why?

now THIS is a question i can get behind, thank you, okay

Laura kicks my fucking ass. I barely get my fists up & she's broken two of my bones & drawn a gun. she wins struggles with old ppl, a fucking cop, & her werewolf boyfriend, I dont stand a chance. also I'm too busy swooning over her to notice her foot flying towards my teeth

i would, unfortunately, suplex Abi with minimal hesitation, & if i could get one good throat punch in, i think i could take out Jacob's knees. ily Jacob, rip your kneecaps. also Max? im so sorry but that puppy dog FOLDS. & like slmccl & co pointed out in stream - he never does sit ups. i could kick him in the stomach & he's down for the count

me v. Ryan entirely depends on how reluctant HE is to fight ME. if he's grappling with his morality, i can get behind him & it's game over. but if he's as set on this fight as I am, I do sadly think he's strong enough to flatten me. also he has a little sister? my tricks won't work on him, he's prolly used to her launching at him

i do think Emma would probably kill me. she keeps herself safe throughout most of the game (conditionally) & she doesn't let the hunters take her. her stamina is unreal & sometimes her feats of strength in game make me uhhhh question things. either way - she could prolly deck me so hard my neck breaks & id thank her

after a lot of thought, i think my fights with both Kaitlyn & Dylan would end in a coin toss - altho arguably I think I stand more of a chance against Dylan. he's so tall. I can trip his lanky ass. i can win. Kaitlyn, however, is about my size & prolly pretty fast. but she can also get grabbed by Bobby without putting up much of a fight & she can get done in pretty brutally by wolfies at the end of the game. we'll go ten minutes of fisticuffs, beating the shit out of each other, & then shed prolly kick in my ankles. still love her tho

Nick is a freak with slow reflexes. I'm taking his throat out with my teeth as we speak.

#sorry nick ily <3 #but its true #thank you for this ask 😭#i love imaginary violence againat my beloveds #put me in the ring plz #ryan would take my glasses & that would be mean :(#the quarry #ask moth

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ectolilly · 8 months

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My take on an Older Max, continuing the Camp Camp adventures.

Big ol' backstory/ headcanon under the cut

Max starts working at the camp at 16, when he ages out of being a camper.

He's 17-18 in my drawings.

He's either emancipated or maybe kicked out of his parents place, but he's happier for it, even if it does still sting

Max goes to camp every year after his first one. His parents don't stop being absent and neglectful, but having camp during the summer gives him something to look forward to. He knows he has people that care about him. Like in the last episode, he's grown to love the people there and the camp itself.

David, Nikki and Niel are also there every year. Nikki and Niel keep in touch year roundas they get ildef and get call phones. They become the family he chooses.

Max grows to be even more clever and confident and just happier with himself over all.

I imagine he's the one that ultimately figures out how to keep the camp afloat and eventually tricks negotiates the sale of the camp to David so it can stay open.

Nikki and Neil decide to become camp counselors too. Nikki because she is a natural and Neil because he is ride or die for these two. And nowhere else allows him to go wild with his questionable scifi science

Plus it beats the hell out of retail

There's a revolving door of co-ouncelors over the years until the trio are old enough to work as co- councelors.

Even more vaugely- and blatantly- supernatural stuff throughout the years.

Max is an awesome councelor when he puts in the effort and a lot of the campers love him.

I love Gwen, but she deserves her dream job and I'm happy to see her move on, so she's not really in this Au? Post Canon? Whatever it's called.

A lot of the other OG campers do return over the years, but not all of them and not every year. By the time the Trio are councelors they've all pretty much moved on except for David. This is hos camp and he still loves it

#camp camp #camp camp au #lrpics #cc max #i do have more are along this vein but this was getting long enough #yes those kids are crowley and aziraphael bc they were on my mind when drawing this #but theyre mostly normal kids for the pirsposes of this au

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dollywheeler · 9 months

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September 29th, 1996

And I say hey-ey-ey-ey-ey, hey-ey-ey I said "hey, what's going on?"

I've had this song stuck in my head all morning, still dancing along to it as if I'm still in the gymnasium, my gold dress swirling around me. I don't know why this song - it's not particularly romantic, or fitting to the occasion, doesn't sum up how the evening had felt. Yet, it had been the most magical moment of the entire night.

One moment, dancing with Daniel to Duran Duran, then this song came on, the slow start meaning we didn't break apart yet, trying to stay close as long as possible, but when the chorus hit the entire hall threw their heads back, screaming along in a messy harmony. It felt like a dream, didn't feel quite real, like some kind of movie, when your heart feels full even though you're just watching it play out in front of you. Except, this time I was in the middle of it, screaming along with everyone else, and it felt like I was floating, wishing the moment could less forever.

That's not to say the rest of the evening wasn't just as wonderful. Daniel took me to an actual restaurant, which was a nice change of pace from the dinner, but I honestly can't tell if the food was even worth it. My stomach was too busy swirling with nerves, and I could barely get any food past my lips because we were too distracted talking and laughing. It was wonderful - he was wonderful, looking dapper in his suit and glinting golden in the candle light. As far as first dates go, I'm sure it couldn't have gone any better. Not that I'd know, as this was my first first date, but it felt like a dream, like something that couldn't possibly be real.

It was the perfect blend between familiar and exciting - the comfort of someone you already know, someone you already love spending time with, mixed with the nerve-wracking thrill of a new context, of possibility.

We were having such a great time that we were late to the actual dance, having lost track of time completely during our conversation. Whitney gave me this knowing look about it - I don't think she would have believed me if I'd told her we'd just been talking.

Anyway, we danced and we laughed and gossiped and I didn't even care that Mike and his 'party' or whatever was there. I'd already realised I'd have to get used to them being around the school in every facet - that includes chaperoning school events. The night was too perfect though, and I was not going to let anything darken my mood.

I did get to talk to Max though, and thank her for the birthday gift. She said she'd mostly just said 'yes' or 'no' to things Mike had picked out and it was no big deal but that she was glad I liked it. I also used the moment to ask about everything else - I realised that if Mike won't call to tell her things, I might as well ask someone else for intel. Apparently, Lucas and her still live in Chicago, and she works as a counselor at the blind school she went to after whatever happened had happened. Everyone is always so vague about the details, but I didn't want to ask her directly and force her to relive it. That's one thing that actually is none of my business anyway.

Erica is living with them while she is going to college - she got her Bachelor's last June but just started law school. I can't imagine moving in with Nancy while I'm in college. Don't get me wrong, Nancy's great, but it's college! You're supposed to go out on your own and become independent and stuff. I said as much to Max, but she just shrugged and smiled to herself. She said Erica was happier with them than she'd been at the dorms.

I didn't know how to go from there so I just asked about El. I knew she still visits Hawkins a lot, because opposite to the others, I see her around town sometimes. At Melvalds with Joyce or in the diner with Sheriff Hopper, or alone around the library in the center of town. But there's also stretches of time when I don't see her at all. According to Max she takes a bunch of classes at the community college, but also travels a lot - bouncing between Chicago and San Fran and New York. Max said that whenever Dustin or Jonathan and Nancy have to travel for work, she usually tags along too. I don't know why or how she does all of that, but it sounds like a dream. Yet, at the same time, I think I'd personally hate it.

She seemed happy enough though, and it's obvious she is happy. From across the room I could see that, as always, her smile was wide and her skin warm with a tan, her hair pinned back with clips that clashed with her new pink highlights. Most of the chaperones hadn't bothered dressing up, but she had clearly thought about her outfit, each item carefully picked out to form a particular look, even if it was just jeans and a colorful sweater.

I didn't want to outright ask about Mike or Will, mostly because I know what they're doing right now and asking about Mike felt too much like snooping. Max didn't seem like she was going to mention it on her own, and before I could make up my mind on whether I really wanted to know, Dylan came to drag me back to the dance floor.

It was only after we were taking another break some time later that I realised I still didn't know what Dustin or Lucas are doing. I assume Dustin lives in San Fran, as that's the only reason El would go there as often as Chicago or New York, but I don't know what he does there. Probably some kind of tech company or whatever. And I'm pretty sure I heard Mrs. Sinclair talk about Lucas following in his father's footsteps but honestly I don't even know what he does so that doesn't answer any questions.

Might be something to talk about on Friday to fill awkward silences.

Anyway the dance was amazing, and someone must have succeeded in smuggling in alcohol because there was a girl puking in one of the bathroom stalls before 9 pm. She was nice though, told me she liked my dress. Even that felt magical, despite her smudged make-up and loopy expression, the entire night like a daydream where I was floating on air and nothing could ever be wrong.

There was an after party at Selena's house - I swear kids of divorced parents are raising themselves because somehow their houses are always empty at the most opportune times - but Danny and I decided not to go. I didn't want to risk ruining what had been the perfect evening, and I knew I'd only get more tired and everyone else less sober. It also kept the evening quiet, just Daniel and I in the car as he drove me home, drunk on happiness and singing along to the radio. Last night, it seemed, for once, I hadn't cared about missing out. I still don't.

I mean - nothing could have topped Daniel dropping me off at home, getting out of the car along with me as if he didn't know what he was doing either but had seen a few movies, and walked me up to the front door. I knew dad would already be asleep, but mom would be sitting up in the sitting room like she'd done so many nights before, for so many years on end, waiting for her teenager to get home safe.

I had my jacket draped over my shoulders because it wasn't too cold yet and I liked the air against my arms after the crowded gymnasium. Daniel pretended to pull it tighter around me, only to use it as leverage to draw me closer and kiss me. It feels silly writing it down because there's nothing I can say to really describe it. No words that feel right or do it justice, that explain how I'm blushing all over again just thinking about it, my stomach swirling at the recollection.

All I know is that I wish I was still in that moment, still holding his face in my hand, gently scratching my nail over his cheek, submitting the feeling to memory. But I didn't mind when he pulled away, his face flushed and dark eyes shining in the porchlight, because I got to smile at him and he smiled back, blush deepening as he stepped away and muttered a goodnight, dimples digging into his cheeks where I'd held him.

I watched him go before getting back into the house, finding mom asleep on the couch. It was late for her, I realised, even though it was only a little before twelve, and considered the fact she hadn't had to stay up in a long time - not since Mike had left. I didn't want to wake her but knew I had to - if just to let her know I was home and she wouldn't wake up worried.

I still can't quite believe the night was real.

I really should get the reading done for tomorrow, but I don't want to stop thinking about yesterday. Or tomorrow, when I'll see Daniel again.

Love, Holly <3

#holly wheeler #the third wheeler #stranger things #fanfic #byler

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i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this · 2 years

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I'm sorry, did someone say Camp Counselor!Mark?? Was available?? For requests???

I've got four words for you: There's. Only. One. Tent.

A few more words for clarity: There probably isn't actually only one tent, but rather not enough for everybody on the camping trip, so the reader and Mark have to share one. Obviously the reader would be an adult, not a camper! They could be a fellow counselor again, or maybe a lone hiker who stumbled upon the camp unexpectedly and was invited to spend the night since it was getting dark. That would explain why there's a shortage of available tents, at least.

Camp!Mark seems very gentlemanly the way you write him (which I LOVE, seriously, excellent choice, gold star) so I bet he'd be a little shy about spending the night so close to a handsome and/or beautiful person like the reader ;D. (Bonus points if the reader picks up on this and finds it adorable, so they fluster him on purpose a little~). All in all just a very sweet, cozy, twitterpated vibe would be nice~.

One Tent (Camp Mark x GN Reader)

Summary- you and your co-counselor are taking the campers to a special spot in the woods for actual camping and a bonfire. What happens when your tent is unusable and it starts to rain, looks like you have to share a tent with your lovely co-counselor Mark.

TWs- LONG 2981 words, mention of a lake, a kid almost falls into said lake, you and Mark change in the tent but no NSFW.

Heeeeeeeey, so we're gonna ignore the fact I haven't uploaded in 4 weeks because I started school again. I think I'm finally getting back into a rhythm again, gonna try to write more. I had fun writing this, but it also took a couple days cause it's long af. I think it's worth it, and hope you enjoy it.

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"Alright guys, let's get going" you shouted to the group of campers before you. The kids scrambled around grabbing their camping packs and running out of the doors of the food hall. You shook your head and followed through the doors grabbing your own bag after the last kid ran out.

It had been about a month at the summer camp, and the kids were excited to finally go camping in the woods, near the lake. They had been looking forward to this, and you won't lie and say you haven't. It’d be a nice change of pace, the cabins were nice but there was nothing like some good old fashion camping.

When your co-counselor Mark told you about the trip, you couldn't hide your excitement. Speaking of your co-counselor, he stood in front of the group of children holding a clipboard and going over the list of supplies. It was an hour's hike, so it would be a pain if they forgot something back at camp. Most of the supplies were already up, but it would be impossible to take everything up there.

As Mark looked up from his clipboard, his hat no longer shielding his warm brown eyes, he smiled and waved you over. You jogged over to him and asked, “We got everything?” He nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “We sure do. Though I wasn't able to fit the s’mores supplies in my bag.” You hummed and saw the bags of marshmallows, boxes of chocolate, and gram crackers. You kneeled and picked up your backpack from where it had been resting and opened your bag taking out the single-person tent.

“Well we have two options here, I could let one of the campers carry the s’more stuff.” You eyed the children staring at the bag of marshmallows, “ Or I could let one of the campers hold my tent and I carry the food.” Mark looked down at you and then back at the children. He bit the inside of his lip taking his hat off, to run a hand through his dark brown hair.

“Well, I wish I could say I trust the campers not to eat the goodies, but..” He paused, a look sent the way of Max, a camper who had attempted to raid his cabin in search of sweets.\ “Well, Maybe I can just carry your tent.” He finished. You waved in dismissal, packing up the sweets and standing up. “There's no need for that, I'm sure with the promise of some extra s’mores one of the campers will put my tent in their bag. “ You finished, noticing some of the kids turning their heads in your direction. Marks smile was as sweet as marshmallows, “Well If that’s what you want. I’m sure the campers are gonna be happy about that.” you nodded and you turned to face the campers to announce your proposal when Max ran up to you and yelled, “I’ll carry your tent!” You and Mark let out a laugh, but you eventually handed him the single-person tent. You watched as he put it in the top of his bag, the green color sticking out from the top. With that, you and Mark lead the group up into the hilly trail through the forest. You are sticking at the back of the group and Mark is leading.

You smiled, a warm feeling invaded your chest as you watched Mark lead the group, and talk to the kids. He looked so damn good in the counselor uniform. Something about the almost too tight shirt wrapped around his muscular form and the dorky hat he loved to wear, made you swoon. If you would have met him on the street, you wouldn't have ever guessed how kind he was. He was truly the definition of a southern gentleman, but somehow better. You remember almost crying when you found him up late at night working on individual pronoun pins for each of the campers. Not only was he hot, but he was also kind. You had no idea how he wasn’t already dating someone, but he made it clear he wasn't. Mark stole a glance back towards you, his eyes softening, he sent you a little wave and you grinned. You smiled and waved back, watching as he turned to face the front. Maybe after the campers went home you would shoot your shot with him.

After finishing the trail, you all arrived at the lake. Most of the kids quickly dropped the bags and ran towards the edge of the lake. You grinned at Mark before rushing over to the kids by the lake, as he talked to the other campers. “Okay guys, let's go get set up before any of you fall into the lake and get yourselves wet. “ The kids laughed at your claim and most started to walk off. Though as Max turned to walk he slipped on the mud and started to fall towards the water. You quickly grabbed him by the straps of his backpack, pulling him back up. “You okay Max?” you questioned looking over him, he nodded. “ Yeah I'm good!” he answered walking away from you, as you were about to follow you saw something in the lake. You groaned when you realized Your tent had slipped from the top of his bag and into the lake, where it was sinking into the shallow bottom. You quickly reached and grabbed your bag and found it to be soaking wet.

“Shit” you mumbled under your breath. You opened the bag that held the tent to see if it somehow made it and found that it was soaking wet. You rubbed your face with your hand, this was just great. “What's wrong?” you heard Mark’s voice question from behind you. You turned around and held up your wet tent with a frown. He grimaced at the sight. “Max slipped on the mud and while I caught him, I did not catch my tent.” He frowned, walking up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I'm sorry (Y/N), You can always take my tent. It’s supposed to be nice tonight. “ You shook your head, “Thanks for the offer, but I'll be fine in my sleeping bag,” You replied, his face twisted with doubt. “Are you sure? I really don’t mind.” You shook your head at this, “I'm sure Mark, you deserve to have some privacy, you did take the lead today.” He looked uncertain and before he could reply you started to walk off backward, “ I’ll be fine Mark, let's go check on the kids, and make sure none of them are destroying the tents.” He nodded and followed you with a small smile on his face.

So you and Mark watched over the kids and helped them with some activities. When the sun started to set, you and Mark created the bonfire quickly. Mark frowned as he saw some dark clouds, he had checked the weather, and it wasn't supposed to rain tonight. He looked over at you helping some of the kids make some s’mores. There was something so stunning about how the light of your fire framed your face, it made his face warm. He let himself look at you for a second more, before answering the call of one of the campers.

The bonfire was dying out and the campers had all headed to their tents. You sat next to Mark watching the fire die out. You chuckled at the story he had just finished telling. Your gaze lingered on his face, he seemed so happy here, out in nature. Nature truly was his passion and you could tell. “Well, that is certainly one hell of a story mister, who would've guessed you were a party guy in college.” Mark blushed a bit and rubbed the back of his neck, “ I wouldn't say that, I only went to a few.” You laughed, “My point stands, god I can just imagine you drunk singing along to some party song. “ You tapped your chin, before finishing, “ Maybe Pump it by black-eyed peas.” Mark grinned at you, and with a fake gasp answered, “Oh, how did you know? “ You both laughed and fell into a comfortable silence. You saw his hand lay next to him and considered maybe holding it. After a moment of deliberation, he turned to you.

“Did you feel that?” he asked, looking towards the sky. You nodded and watched him squint at the dark sky. He then grabbed your hand and held it up to the air, Your face heated up and before you could speak you felt it. It was starting to rain, You mumbled some curses under your breath. “Did we bring any extra tarps,” you asked him and groaned as he answered with a no. You rubbed your face as you and Mark stood up, grabbed some of the supplies to put under the tree, and wrapped them in the tarps.

You frowned as the rain got heavier, quickly grabbing your bags and standing under a tree. Your hair stuck to your forehead as you watched Mark shake some of the rain from his hat. “Fuck, what am I going to do?” you mumbled to yourself, You looked up at the tree before saying, “Maybe if I camp out under here I'll be okay. My hair’s already wet, and that's gonna be a pain to deal with, I didn't bring any of my hair shit.” As you rambled on Mark bit his lip and replied, “I don’t think so Darlin, Looks like the rain is getting heavier, we’ll just” he paused, “ We’ll just have to share. As much as I’d like to give the tent to you, I don't think It’s good if either one of us got hypothermia.” He said, his face heating up as he looked away from you.

Your face heated up, and before you could say anything. “I promise I’m not trying to be creepy or anything, I just don't want you to get sick. You know it’s okay actually, I can sleep out here. I’ll just wear my hat and put the blanket over me.” You shook your head and stepped in front of him grabbing his shoulders to calm him, “Mark it’s okay, I know you don’t mean anything bad by it. As much as you want to, I’m not gonna let you sleep out here. I don't want you to get sick and, “ You paused, looking away slightly, “ I don’t mind sharing a tent with you, but we'll have to put our bags in there too. “ You stepped from him and he nodded in agreement. “Well if you are really okay with it…” You nodded and you went to grab your bag, he grabbed it for you. He went over to the tent and held open the door as you went inside. He quickly followed by kicking off his shoes and taking his hat off before entering.

You scooted away, trying to give him as much room as you can as he entered. It was a small space, but you all would fit. As he placed the bags on each of the sides of the tent, he looked toward you. He blushed to find your face to be much closer to his than he imagined. He leaned back, moving from his knees to sitting down fully. He grabbed the sleeping pack from both your bags and your sleeping clothes. “ I can step out while you change.” You nodded and as he was about to leave there was the sound of the rain getting heavier. Before he could leave you grabbed his shoulder. He looked back in surprise, and you quickly answered.

“You're gonna get soaked out there, just.” Your face heated up, “ turn around.” A look of surprise crossed his face as his face heated up. He raised his hands and started to stammer out, “No-no it’s okay, I don't mind Darlin. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable.” You let go of his shoulder and turned to face away from him. “If you are not comfortable with it I understand, but I don't want you to get soaked just for my sake.” You shrugged, “Plus I trust you, You won’t make me uncomfortable.” You waited a second before turning your head around to look at Mark and saw him turn around. He was reaching for his clothes. “Well, If you're sure I won’t make you uncomfortable, that's okay. Just tell me when I can turn around, or if you change your mind. “ You smiled and said, “Will do, I'll tell you when I'm done, so you can change next.” You started to change, your face heating up. You quickly slid on your pajamas and put your folded clothes next to you.

“I'm good.” You said quietly, and you heard the tent floor shuffle as he changed. You scooted yourself, further, from him, your face feeling like the surface of the sun. As he got changed you dealt with your hair, getting it to a decent point. You of course didn't look over at Mark until you heard Mark’s voice say, “I’m done now, Darlin.” You smiled and turned to face him, He returned with a shy smile. He started to spread out the sleeping bags, to make a makeshift bed pad for the two of you. You put the pillows and extra blankets down, and the bed was finished. Because of the bags on either side of you two, somewhat protecting you both from the cold seeping in through the side of the tent. As you both laid down, you hear Mark say, “I’ll try to give you your personal space, but there's not much room in here.” you smiled, “Thank you, Mark, but don’t worry about me, just get comfy.” You took a deep breath, “I don’t mind if you touch me.”

At that Mark blushed and started to stammer, There was no way you actually meant that. He turned around to face you and tell you he didn't mind, but his words got caught in his throat as he looked at you. You looked tired, your hair was a wet mess and your pj’s were wrinkled, but you looked like an angel to him. He had imagined sleeping next to you and waking up next to you, but those can’t compare to the real thing. You let out a giggle and said, “You know you're cute when you're flustered.” He bit his lip and replied, “Well, how can I not be flustered sleeping next to someone so.” He paused looking away, “Stunning.” Your face heated up and Mark loved it. He loved the way your face warped when he made you smile.

“You're not too bad yourself handsome.” he laid down completely facing you, “Aw, you're just flattering me.” You shook your head in disagreement, “No, I really do think you're handsome Mark.” You gently raised your hand to hold the side of his face. He leaned into your hand, and you felt the heat from his face. You moved closer to him, your bodies almost touching.

“ Your amazing Mark, in everything you do. I don’t think you realize how kind, sweet, strong, smart, and handsome you are.” Mark looked away from your eyes but laid his hand overtops yours. “ I’m nothing compared to you Darlin,” Your heart skipped a beat, “ You are so clever and kind, and your smile is more beautiful than the sunrise. “ He looked you in your eyes, finally pulling you to his chest. “I’d do anything to see you smile, you deserve all good things.” He finished, his free hand laying on your hip. Your eyes sparkled as you saw the warmth in his bark brown eyes. You felt his warm breath on your face and felt his hand soothingly rub your hip.

“Can.” he paused, taking a deep breath, “ Can I kiss you?” Your smile widened as you shook your head yes. He smiled and pulled your face to his, closing your eyes, and your lips met. His hand moved from your hip, to the small of your back, pulling you as close as he could. His other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and playing with your hair. Your hands wrapped around his body, your hand rubbing up and down his back.

His lips felt like heaven, he was gentle but passionate, and he tastes like s'mores. He smelt like the forest, with the scent of mahogany wood, and the sweet scent of fruit. He really was amazing in every aspect. As you pulled away, breathing heavily, a half-lidded look on his face. He looked like a dream. He buried his face in your neck and mumbled something. “What was that sweetheart?” you asked in a soft voice, He pulled away from your neck a bit so you could understand him. His breath tickled your neck and he whispered in your ear, “I love you, Darlin, I have for a while now.” You smiled as shivers went down your spine. You quickly replied, “I love you too Mark, More than I can express with words.” He let out a soft chuckle and let his grip loosen a bit, “ You have no idea how happy that makes me, how happy you make me,” he said, watching your soft smile return, gods he loved your smile. He loved everything about you.

“ Well, maybe not, but if it's anything close to how happy you make me then I'll do whatever I can to make you happy sweetheart.” you softly said as mark pulled the blanket over you two, the idea of personal space gone. “ Get some sleep Darlin, we're gonna have a big day tomorrow. “ You nodded and as Mark held you you drifted off to sleep, the last thing you felt was a soft kiss on your forehead.

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@authorracheljoyy @Orchid / @Orchid_251 @crazy-obsessed-enbyy @destructive-moon @tinyboxxtink @weed-gummymies @clickbait-officiall @the-actor-you-love-to-hatete @captain-m-fayeye @raccoonsstinkybunns

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pinguplanet · 5 months

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stuff I have for my quarry late 2000s (?) au:

Ember Bears → Band Name made by Jacob and Kaitlyn when they attended camp (around early 2000s? Idk how long the camp had been established…)

Jacob (electric guitar) and Dylan (drummer) main vocals

Nick backup vocal and bass guitar

Kaitlyn Keyboard song writer mostly

Jobs and such

Jacob → sports counselor at a local residence club

Dylan → music shop clerk (is also secretly a night time dj at frat parties lol)

Nick → waiter a local seafood restaurant, sometimes he cooks when coworkers bail

Kaitlyn → local babysitter and retail salesperson over the week

Ryan → Video-tape and disk rental clerk and swimming team co-couch

Abi → works at a library and is a cashier at a souvenir shop

Emma → Small town model and a theater actress (no she did not work at your local target)

Extra:

Laura → Uni student and takes part in an animal shelter

Max → Works at a gas station cashier he does random jobs too but they last around a week

They are all taking a gap year or sm (except laura) (I also do not know how gap years work as I am still as school and have no knowledge of after graduation)

Making this au because I wanted to draw them all in a late 2000s aesthetic is crazy

#idk what im talking about #my quarry ramblings are crazy #i need to shut up #mmmmmmmmmmm #the quarry #pingu planet rambling

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horraykiwi · 2 years

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rise & shine

#camp camp #camp camp david #camp camp dadvid #camp camp max #cc david #cc dadvid #cc max #cc max fanart #cc david fanart #dadvid #camp camp fanart #cc art #digital aritst #co counselor max

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campbyler · 7 months

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This is kinda random but do ever plan on introducing any of the pink or orange cabin counselors?

honestly, not really! we have quite the ensemble cast for acswy already and balancing even the 6 members of the main party can be pretty difficult. add in our two ocs (who are largely in the story at all because of their proximity to our two main characters) and hopper and various mentions of campers and the roster gets pretty full! even max and el’s co counselors aren’t really mentioned by name which we definitely don’t feel like is taking away from anything, and we just don’t really have any reason to add new ocs in 🤷🏽‍♀️

#thanks for the question though!#creating ocs is Hard #even justin and mitchell took a lot of brainstorming #and we just don’t rly have the energy to put into them #who knows tho #maybe sudden pink/orange takeover in chapter 10 #asks

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tricobicofriend · 7 months

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Takes place in "city survival" Jess acts like a chill counselor who doesn't give a shit abt the kids, but the whole episode they do stuff like this to make max & co's city experience at least decent. Also Vi pretends to be a non-sapient toy the whole time so as not to get confiscated or stolen.

#camp camp #counselor jess au #cc #my drawings

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sweepseven · 7 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers!

Another post in a seemingly unending series of posts in which I talk about writing to make me feel like I've accomplished any actual writing. Results so far are middling.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

53! How and when?? (The answer is "Kà and a pandemic.")

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

228,456

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Cirque du Soleil at the moment, but a long running rp is soaking up the majority of my creative thoughts just now. That's its own whole thing with a blog and fics and AUs upon AUs.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wing Dust (Miraculous Ladybug, T, perpetually bemused that I wrote this in the first place and yet here it is at number one)

Downpour (Mad Max Fury Road, G, my first for a fandom that did so much for me as an author)

War Song (Mad Max Fury Road, T, strong contender for favorite fic I've ever written)

Idle in Neutral (Mad Max Fury Road, G, I forget I wrote this one all the time and whenever I get kudos for it I'm like whom??? I love that it has a life all its own.)

Mantle (Mad Max Fury Road, G, another one I continually forget about lol)

That's the curse of writing for tiny fandoms! The ones I have loved most, that have mangled my brain for months on end are destined to have like a dozen readers total. On the other hand it's very gratifying to know I'm writing for a small handful of people extra extra psyched to find content. And in the meantime I have these, many of which I've let myself forget, that have found their audience anyway. It's a very rewarding feeling, like I could make the effort, move on, and still leave people happy years later.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Most times yes!! And I'm so so lucky to get the most thoughtful comments of all on my most niche fics. Makes it all more than worth it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Walkabout and I love it. Cirque du Soleil Kà, T.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Tea Series by a mile. Didn't know I had it in me until pushed by @studiokawaii , and I'm so glad they did. Cirque du Soleil Kà, T.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Honestly so few people are aware of them that it's not really a risk. What is hugely embarrassing is the confirmed knowledge that Cirque artists know about and have read some of them. But there's nothing I can do about that, lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! Somehow I feel like I'm always writing it, and then I look at my total body of work and am like "...where is all of it." Historically it was mostly M/M, but Kà got me actually writing F/M for the first time. Most common themes are experience vs. inexperience and tense power dynamics. I'd love to write more dub con.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Only ever one. Decree, another for Mad Max Fury Road, in which the Vuvalini are each granted one single potentially worldshaping wish à la Puella Magi Madoka Magica. I know why people don't click on it, but I'm fond of it!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No and tbh I can't imagine anyone would bother.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but I'd be open to it if anyone cared to take on the project! I love translated fics. What a nice thing to do, granting someone else's work the opportunity for new eyes.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but again @studiokawaii and I have had some great fic/art collaboration in the past couple years with inspiration coming from both directions.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Snape/Harry. I never talk about it, I've never written it myself (I think?? maybe in high school I did), but honestly it's been so long that I think there's no unseating it now. The amount of care, dedication, creativity, and talent coming from that group, even after so long, is truly unique and remarkable. All time favorite ship to write has been Counselor's Son/Twin Sister by a landslide.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It pains me, but I think I'm kidding myself if I try to claim The Shape of Things To Come doesn't qualify. I love the idea, I know exactly where I want it to go, but something about the enormity of the ground that needs to be covered in order to get there has spooked me.

I also have two highly embarrassing WIPs - one for Shadow & Bone and another for fucking Teen Titans - that I doubt will ever be finished. I just adore both ideas and it's fun thinking they've at least taken some kind of shape somewhere, even if they never make it out into the world.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Creating believable characterization and distinctive voices from very sparse source material. At least that's what I've been told, which I take as an immense compliment. I also think I write tension rather well, whether it be sexual, conflicting emotions, or threatening hostility.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Well right now my ability to finish anything feels pretty fuckin weak. I struggle with action scenes, like physical fights or scenes in which a lot is going on in multiple places at once. Hitting a natural rhythm with them is very difficult for me. Pacing for longer fics doesn't come easily to me either, and I always worry if my longer work reads like a bulleted list of stuff I knew needed to happen rather than an actual story with a true and natural flow. That's part of what's bogging me down with Shape of Things.

I also love commas too much.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Depends. You can't just throw it in there imo - it's a great opportunity for mindful characterization and shouldn't be treated like checking a box, or worse, a reminder to your audience that the source material doesn't match the language you're writing in. I'm not multilingual so the most you're likely to see from me are vague hints at certain dialects and accents in Kà, for instance, since they're not speaking any real language anyway.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Teen Titans. It's still out there somewhere, likely a somewhat embarrassing blip on the radar of some long forgotten LJ community. I got some early encouragement there that put me where I am today. Nurture and welcome new writers, people!!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Borderline Suspect. I put so much into it. It was a real milestone fic for me, unlike anything I'd ever written before, and it stands so apart in my memory that I just can't choose any other. At the time I thought it was everything I could possibly want to say about Ka and CS/TS, but when it was through I found myself more motivated and inspired than ever.

Some of the most valuable and rewarding feedback I've ever gotten came from this fic, and the intensity of the response, however contained by the size of the fandom, has made me feel incredibly lucky. People came out of nowhere to talk to me about it, send art for it, push me through writing lulls with comments that turned entire days around. I made new friends because of it. I don't see myself writing anything quite like it ever again. Even if I did, I couldn't dream of a more gratifying response. Cirque du Soleil Kà, E.

#these were funnnn other writers pls pick up

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caroldantops · 2 years

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I had this weird concept of combining the Camp and serial killer thing

Imagine: Nance and Robin become Camp Counselors, the young children leave a day earlier so the adults/helpers stay a extra night and day to clean everything etc. They plan to kill everyone then, to learn the terrain and be hide some traps etc. Enter you!

They meet you and decide to keep you! You are just such a sunshine! A sweet naive thing. Midst the chaos you will be with one of them, trusting them to help you, and always just barley escaping the killer. Of course still getting some small wounds here and there, you look cute with the pain and fear in your eyes.

You would be their own little final girl.

their own little final girl im biting my fist trying not to scream rn okay i got a bit carried away with this but im obsessed!!

tw: DARK nancy and robin, serial killers, murder, blood mention, manipulation, all that jazz. nothing super explicit or gorey just girlbosses murdering billy :) and others but he's the only one mentioned lets just assume the rest of them r pieces of shit too <3

this is so !! oh my god, the manipulation..making it so you think that they're keeping you safe while the other is laying traps and such. nancy's definitely out doing the dirty work while robin stays with you. she wipes your tears from your face as she puts cute patterned bandaids on you and you mumble about how you're just glad that whoever is doing this had the humanity to spare the kids the trauma of it all

robin clutching you close to her when you hear the screams of your co-counselors

"well, billy was a piece of shit anyway, right?" robin says, always the one to diffuse the mood with humor. you can only think about how you're going to tell max.

you keep urging robin that maybe you should just make a break for the work truck by the old storage shed and try to get out of there, but robin keeps reminding you "we can't leave without Nancy."

robin keeps moving you to different locations, closer and closer to the truck so that you can be ready when you finally find Nancy. "how do we know she's okay? should we go look for her?"

"this is nancy wheeler we're talking about. she keeps a revolver under her bunk bed. if anything, the killer should be scared of her."

you get all concerned when nancy comes back to your safe spot with blood on her and she's like "oh it's okay baby, i promise i'm not hurt" and you cling to her and beg her not to leave your sight again

her and robin sharing a look as nancy soothes you by rubbing your back, sobbing into the blood stained material of her counseler shirt. nancy gives robin a curt nod and robin leads you both to the truck.

the camp is very out of the way, and it's started pouring hot summer rain as well ("i wonder if theyr'e even going to be able to find any evidence after this downpour" robin wonders aloud, tracing your hand with her fingers. "i bet they planned it this way.") so the three of you end up holed up in a little shitty motel in the middle of nowhere, nothing but a diner with flickering lights next door.

nancy n robin tell you to go shower first, since you're all muddied up. but you hesitate at the bathroom door, terrified that the second you close your eyes you'll take your last breath.

robin offers to watch the door while nancy sits in the bathroom with you. she can hear you crying and suddenly she's stepped into the shower with you. you watch the little bit of blood that came off of her go down the drain as she washes your hair, humming softly to you.

she tells you to turn so you can rinse off, and you wonder where the blood came from, since she has no signs of even a scrape.

you have trouble sleeping that night, of course, until they curl up on either side of you, robin spooning you from behind, arms around your waist and nose pressed into your neck. and nancy facing you, fingers tracing softly over your face until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

the next morning, they take you to the diner next door right as it opens. there’s no one there except an old lady who serves you warm pancakes. the news flickers on the old tv in the corner.

“do you think anyone knows yet?” you ask.

“probably not, honestly,” nancy hums. “we were the last people there. anyone who would’ve come check up on the camp was already there.”

“should we...i dunno, should we report this? there’s probably a phone we can use here...”

nancy gives robin (who’s currently stuffing her face with waffles) a pointed glance and robin says with her mouth full, “maybe we should just lay low for a while. who knows if that guy is still out there looking for us.”

“and we probably don’t even want to go home, what if he tracks us there?” nancy adds. you push away the plate of food, suddenly not hungry anymore. nancy pushes it back and gives you a look until you start eating again. “my family had an old cabin up here. they haven’t visited it for a couple of years now. maybe we should go there.”

and so the they take you there, and slowly the three of you lose track of time (or, you do, rather. nancy knows exactly how long its been) and months pass by. you never forget about everything that happened, you’re constantly a little jumpy and anxious and always ask nancy to triple check all the locks before the three of you settle into bed.

news reports say the three of you must be dead. there’s not enough evidence to do anything with. a lot of it was destroyed in the rain or messed with by the hungry wildlife in the surrounding area.

robin and nancy muse that maybe it’s best if the three of you stay off the grid for good. you miss your other friends and family, but you’re so dependent on these two that you’ll do whatever they decide is best.

after all, they kept you safe that night. you wouldn’t be alive without them.

#c: nancy wheeler #c: robin buckley #s: ronance #darkfics #dark!nancy #dark!robin #murder tw #death tw #blood tw #serial killers tw #idk is that a tag people use???#blurb #silver writes #uhhh lmk if i can tag anything else

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deepdisireslonging · 2 years

Text

Do You Remember When

Early in their careers, it came down to a choice between Wardlow and Y/N as to who would move up. The situation gets brought back up years later, but now they are on opposite sides.

Pairing: Wardlow x Reader

Warnings/Promises: angst, SMUT, conspiring

Word Count: 2760

Note:I don’t know why it took so long to write up my Wardlow thirst, but here’s the first of potentially many. As always, comments and reblogs are super appreciated.

This was the feud that would never end.

MJF still wouldn’t leave Wardlow alone to enjoy his life, so Wardlow kept stepping in to mess up his plans. Which is why MJF hired you. You were the one person he’d left most of the talking to. And, considering your non-wrestling status, people were disinclined to swing at you. Which you appreciated. What he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. But what he didn’t know wasn’t supposed to come to light.

***

“Alrighty,” you coach looked over his clipboard for the thousandth time. The other students were gone, shipped off to their next step towards the brass ring that controlled the wrestling world. Some to fight in the rings, other to help kept best laid plans going straight. You and the man standing next you were either side of that coin. “There’s only one position left, and I’m afraid there’s only one answer.”

Wardlow bristled at the coach’s tone. He knew it too well.

“Japan has an opening for a quick-thinking ring-side counselor.” He held up an envelope, offering it to you. “Congratulations, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You took it, beaming with pride and almost shaking too much to give a decent handshake. By the time you needed your next breath, you were already at the door and finally remembered to look back. It popped a hole in your enthusiasm.

Coach had his hand on Wardlow’s shoulder. “This isn’t the end. Something will come up. You’ll see.”

***

Three years later, the man that once stood by your side stood on the opposite side of the ring. He cut a good look in his suit and tie, hair slicked back and out of the way. You had to admire the way he’d advanced in wrestling since you saw him last. But now he was a problem.

“The second your ‘client’ stops getting in my way, I’ll stop getting in his.” Wardlow’s bargain was simple. But Max was not a simple client.

“That was never the deal, Wardlow.” You ignored how Max muttered ‘Warpig’ under his breath. “You’re supposed to be gone. Kaput. Out of sight and out of mind for one of the best rising stars of our generation. And you and I both know the gene pool out there.” You let your voice soften, hoping it would get your point across and end your headache. “There are other wrestling companies out there. Ones that would appreciate your drive and enthusiasm a lot better than here. I have connections if you need them.”

If Maxwell Jacob Friedman never spoke another word, it would still be too much. “You need all the help you can get. Take the deal. This isn’t the first time Y/N’s known best, is it old friend?”

How did he know about that? He wasn’t there. Granted, a lot of the talent backstage had been, but this wasn’t usually a story that people would tell.

***

It was the last time you two worked together. For over two months, you’d run as his valet, making sure he kept his cool in and out of the ring, finally leading up to this match. The original plan was to be a coed team, but your lungs didn’t have the stamina, so you settled. Talent scouts were in the audience, and they were ready to pick the best of the best. Backstage, you all shared a handshake, wishing each other good luck for the match, and for the future ahead.

Then everything went wrong.

First, nerves got to Wardlow. He stumbled on his way into the ring, almost taking you down with him. The match had a rocky start, and a rocky middle. Then, he zigged when he should have zagged, and caught a kick square on the jaw. While the referee checked on him, you created a distraction by grabbing a kendo stick from under the ring before stomping across it to get at the other team. By the time they were able to “talk you down” and the ref could kick you back to ringside, Wardlow was mostly recovered. He won, but not with as strong a finish as planned.

Your quick thinking got you the last open talent spot. Despite his protests at the time, you regretted every bit of it.

***

“You may have always had the brawn, but you’ve never had the brains.” Max continued to poke and prod at what he perceived to be Wardlow’s shortcomings. “Even then, Y/N is a brilliant strategist. She could probably outsmart you at every turn and beat you. You know what, let’s get a ref out here. You could be one half of AEW’s first coed match. You’ve only got half a wit, but it’ll be enough to show you just how far beneath everyone else you really are.”

With a groan, you stepped between them before Max got knocked out. “This really isn’t necessary. If we could get back on topic-“

Then Shawn Spears piped up before you could stop him. “Naturally, wanting to be a gentleman, you’d lay down for the lady, and we’d respect you. Or you could just walk out. That’d be easier to everyone.”

Wardlow pushed against your hands on his chest.

Things were rolling out of control and Max picked up the thread. “Natural. There’s a word to describe you. All brawn, no brains, just,” he flexed his shoulders, “just wild instinct with a touch of modern civility. C’mon. Let the beast out. Fight the beauty. But I still believe the girl could best you ten out of ten without breaking a sweat. The most natural thing in the world.”

“Max-“

“It’s not natural for girls to fight.” Wardlow instantly winced at his words, stepping back. “I don’t mean that-“

Too late. You had a frigid reply. “No, it’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as they are tall. But, oop. There you are.” Behind you, Max laughed with his usual loud, obnoxious bark. You were too busy glaring at Wardlow to tell him to shut up. “This conversation is over. Either we will come to terms and see eye to eye, or Maxwell Jacob Friedman and the Pinnacle will walk over you one last time before the world forgets about you.”

Boldy, you shouldered past him. He let you.

***

Backstage, you quickly separated yourself from the guys and found a dark, quiet corner to breathe your blood down from boiling. Why did everything have to be so hard? And every word so sharp? You shed your suit jacket, running your fingers through your hair. You chose this. And you were going to keep it, no matter the struggles. You had to.

Familiar footsteps found you two minutes later just when you were starting to relax.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Y/N,” Wardlow blocked your path. “I didn’t mean a word of that-“

You growled, “it doesn’t matter. You said it anyways, knowing better than anyone else my health issues and why I can’t wrestle like I want to. Max is a pain in the ass, but you used to be better at this than letting him get under your skin like he does.”

Wardlow reeled. “Wait. You’re still having pulm- puls-, ah, lung issues? I still shouldn’t have said it, but you made it to the big leagues. The doctors still haven’t helped-“

“It’s the roughest side of asthma, Michael. It doesn’t fix up overnight, much less in a couple years.” Both of you knew yelling would only inflame internal problems, so you took a deep breath. “And doctors take money. I’m only just now starting to get the amount I need to afford better pulmonologists. It takes a lot to afford inhalers these days. Even with insurance, if you’ve got it.”

The pity in his eyes burned from your stomach to your spine. You reached for your jacket.

“About that scene-“

“Oh my God.”

“…it got away from me and I wanted to apologize.”

You tossed the fabric down, this close to going ballistic on your former partner. “There’s a lot about your career and tonight that’s gotten away from you. But there’s not much you can do to change it, so let it go. It’s out there, on live television, it’s probably all over the internet. Nothing you can do to stop it-“ Your next words were muffled with Wardlow’s hand over your mouth. He pushed you back into a wall to lessen your struggle.

“My god, you’re worse than Max.” He took a deep breath, looking down at the floor as if reconsidering every step that got him here arguing with you in some back hallway. His head tilted with a change. When he looked back at you, he was sure about something… and you were afraid.

With his hand over your mouth you couldn’t get away. When you tried, his grip tightened just enough to freeze you into place.

“One of Max’s problems is that he really needs a good fuck to work out everything that makes him a frustrating person to work with. Problem being that he can’t ever get laid because he’s annoying as hell.” He leveled his gaze with yours. “But you’re more capable than that. Always have been.” Slowly, he lowered his hand. And you were too intrigued to move.

“Are you offering something?”

“I am. Do you have an answer?”

You licked your suddenly dry lips. This was the line neither of you would cross back in the day. It was too messy then. Now would be disastrous. Then again, standing next to him didn’t make your skin crawl like standing with the Pinnacle. It was familiar. Safe.

Your brain was going a million miles an hour, and he knew it. Gently, he cupped your face, tilting it up. “May I?”

“Mhmm.” You leaned up to meet him.

Slow and steady, you tilted and moved with one another. His hands landed on your hips, holding you in place as his hips pressed you further against the wall. Yours clawed at the soft fabric of his shirt, moving up the collar before lacing behind his neck. He reached behind you, spreading his large hands across your lower back to arch you further into his kiss. Giving you a second to breathe was a mistake.

“We can’t do this, can we?” You whispered it against his chest. Before he could stop your mouth with another kiss, you managed, “everything could blow up in our faces. This would be the final straw for Max taking you out. I could lose everything-“

He kissed you deeply, dazing you. “I won’t let that happen.” The movements between you were coming to a head, becoming more frantic and needy for more, or to stop before you’d do something you’d regret. Wardlow’s hands managed to get under your blouse, almost burning you with the shock of finally feeling his touch like this.

Still, your brain turned. “If anyone finds out-“

“Do you ever shut up?” He grunted as you rolled your hips into his. “Max really has turned you for the worse.”

You mock gasped, even as he mouthed at your throat. “Do you always talk about MJF with your partners?”

“No. They usually have the pleasure of never knowing who he is. As you are not that blessed,” he stopped, gripping your chin to force your gaze, “I’m going to make sure the only name you can remember tonight is mine.”

The second he waited for your denial, your escape, passed in an infinite flash.

Then teeth clacked, tongues met, and you both hurried to undo each other’s shirt buttons. He managed yours first, ripping it apart without snapping any buttons off. Your hands fumbled, unable to manage the same for his touch distracting you to no end. Down went your sensible pants. You at least managed his belt buckle and zipper. Wardlow hiked you up around his hips so he could kiss the swell of your breasts. You gave up on his shirt, managing instead to lightly rake your nails down his chest. You could always plan an attack. Stage something to explain all the marks on each other-

“You’re thinking again. Stop. Just be here. With me. Not out there.” He ruffled out of his shirt so your hands could explore the whole expanse of him.

It was the grounding you needed. All that muscle under your fingertips. All that flushed skin to touch. To finally feel flexing, blood pumping in time with yours. Wardlow sucked harshly on your neck, making you gasp into his shoulder. As he tweaked your nipples, massaging your breasts in between, you rocked more and more desperately against his bulge. It was too much. His mouth on your neck. His hands caressing, leading your body into passion. The pressure building in your core. The tipping point came when your rolling stuttered, forcing a groan out of Wardlow. You shuddered at the sound, head to toe to core.

“Did you just come?” He smiled and kissed the underside of your jaw. “Dearest, we’ve just begun.”

With your mind in a haze, you didn’t feel the shift in the last layers of clothing until he was fully against you, hot and hard and ready. You bit your lip, holding back many wanton sounds as he rutted his cock through your slick.

“Please, Michael, please-“

“Hang on.”

He wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. You curled your fingers in his hair, mussing it, and dragging your nails along his scalp. He hummed in delight, but remained focused on filling you inch by glorious inch. Your head fell back into the wall, your mouth opened slack. When you finally composed yourself to look him in the eye, he was already watching hungrily for your next reaction.

The draw out was the last slow moment you had before he let the beast out. Filling you. Pounding into you wonderfully enough for you not to care if anyone heard you. There wasn’t a thought in your head. Just him. The stretch of him within you. Hearing his moans and grunts against your ear when your body clenched. Once again the peak approached.

Wardlow braced himself against the wall, his hips stuttering. “Do- do you remember… when we main evented Chicago that one time?”

“Yes.” You clawed at his back.

“I wanted to ravish you then.”

He moved faster. Shorter thrusts, but never losing his depth.

“End of matches.”

“What?”

You whined, so close to the edge. “Win or lose, I wanted to jump you after every match.”

“What took you so long?”

He smiled against your forehead. Then, with a strained roar, he filled you, pumping thrusts to chase the sensation, taking you down with him. His chest muffled your shout. As the orgasms washed over you both, you clung to one another like you’d never let go.

It may have been five, it may have been twenty minutes before either of you recovered. Like old lovers, you passed one another their clothes, helped with buttons, never letting a touch go unlingered.

Wardlow held back your suit jacket. “You can’t go back to him.”

“Sure I can.” You held up your hands when he gripped your shoulders. “He’s paying my bills, and then some. Yeah, he’s going to stab me in the back eventually. But I’ll see the signs. And I already have an exit plan built,” you added with a shrug.

Wardlow huffed. “Yeah, with whom?”

“Well, I was hoping it could be you, but if you don’t think that’d work I can ask Omega and the Elite. They might be able to finally kick MJF’s ass-“

“Wait, wait, wait. Me?”

“You.” With a swallow, you thought back over what Max poked at earlier. “We both know the reason I got so far was because it was at your expense. If I can repay that in any way, this might be it. Are you interested? Are you willing to keep an eye out for when the wind changes?”

Wardlow crossed his arms. “What all does this plan entail?”

“A lot of kendo sticks and maybe a barbed-wire bat.”

He hugged you close, laughing into your hair. “I’ve missed you.”

You both needed the gentle silence that followed. He ended it with a kiss to the top of your head.

You composed yourself quickly. “Remember, you hate my guts until I give you the signal. Right?”

“Right.”

You had to grin. You missed how quickly he caught on with your harebrained schemes. Without another word, you left him in the dark, not looking back.

*** Masterlist

Wrestling/WWE Masterlist

***

Other Wrestling Angst/Smut:

Preparing for the Future (A, F, S, Breeding Kink) - Baron Corbin

Only Yours (AR, A, S) - Cesaro

My Favorite Things (AR, A, S, F) - Drake Maverick

Fuck the Demon Away (A, S) - Elias Samson

Don’t Rush This (AR, A, S, F) - Jack Swagger

No More Whispers (AR, A, S, F|F) - Peyton Royce

Hard Feelings (AR, A, S, Trans!OC) - Rezar (AOP)

Doubt Comes In (AR, A, F, S, F|F) - Rosemary

To Heaven and Back (AR, F, A, S, Plus!Reader) - Sami Zayn

Break Each Other’s Hearts Again (AR, F, A, S) - Seth Rollins

#wardlow #michael wardlow #wardlow x reader #wardlow fanfiction #wardlow smut #aew smut #aew x reader #reader insert #asthmatic!reader #wrestler!reader #aew angst #wardlow angst #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman

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