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chronically-ghosted · 2 years ago

Text

im gonna be suuuuuuuper normal about this fic . ....

toooootally

the character voice of Max in this is unparalleled which is why all the uh, sounds, he makes is so easy to imagine .

imgonnabesooooonormaland calm

God is a Woman

summary: Max Phillips has been trying to fuck you since the moment you met. It surprises him when you want to fuck him. (Or pegging Max Phillips)

rating: E (18+! No y/n, pegging (anal fingering & anal sex), blow jobs, vaginal fingering, come eating, dirty talk, praise kink, (1) bite (surprisingly not Max), kink negotiation, sexting, Asshole Max Phillips, Switch Max Phillips, Soft Max Phillips, Protective Max Phillips, boss/employee, Max using an excessive amount of emojis in his texts, some feelings, some comedy, alcohol, mentions of murder and an uncomfy situation with a creepy coworker (no details))

pairing: Max Phillips/f!reader

word count: 6.7k+

a/n: There are screenshots of texts because I felt it was essential to see the ridiculousness that is Max’s obsession with emojis. Lmao, I put a lot of effort into it. Anyways, this is self-indulgent. I wanted to peg Max, listened to spicy audio of a man getting pegged for inspo, and here we are. This will be two parts. Shoutout and thanks to the love of my life, @juletheghoul, for betaing and enjoying this as much as me.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Part 2 - Masterlist

The workweek had been hectic, and you were thankful it was finally Friday. Being the assistant to Max Phillips was a lot in normal circumstances with his cocky attitude, constant advances, and crudeness. Add in him handling two big account presentations in the same week, and you more than earned the bottle of wine you’d opened.

You were lounging on your couch, wearing your comfiest pajamas, and sipping on your largest glass of wine while watching the latest episode of a reality television show you knew was absolute trash but absolutely loved—living for the ridiculous drama and all of the absurd craziness, thanking the universe that your life was pretty tame in comparison, vampires being real besides the point.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of you, the screen lighting up to show you had a text. You leaned forward to pick it up, quickly unlocking the screen to pull up the message.

You sighed as you read the two words, honestly surprised it didn’t say, ‘U up?’

Since day one, Max had been trying to get into your pants, and since day one, you’d declined. You thought he was handsome—those expressive brown eyes, and pouty lips, the beautiful curve of his nose, and sharp jawline, not to mention he looked really fucking good in a suit. Once you got past his obnoxiousness, he was sexy, but you didn’t feel like being another one of his conquests, you didn’t want to be another notch in his belt before he moved on to the next. So, you put up with him, ignoring his advances and lingering stares at your tits, and did your job exceptionally well, the two of you somewhat friendly.

Your thumb tapped out your response.

You: No. If this has to do with work, I’m off the clock.

You snorted.

You: Then text Jennifer in accounting.

The week prior, you’d accidentally walked into his office to find him fucking her on his desk. You’d like to say that was the first time something like that had happened, but it wasn’t. You were pretty sure he’d slept with everyone on the payroll except you.

You took a sip of your wine.

You: Who’s fault is that?

You were so used to saying that sentence you’d typed it without a second thought.

You snorted again, absolutely doubting that was true.

You: You’re really looking for someone to cuddle? Why?

There it was.

You: I’ll have a heated blanket delivered to you.

You chewed on your lip before taking a big gulp from your glass, leaning forward to set it down on the table, and moving to get comfortable on the couch again.

His request was stuck in your brain, thinking it over and how it could all play out. It had been a literal hell of a week, and you wanted to decompress—one thing on your mind you knew would help, but you’d need a willing partner, and Max was definitely interested in you sexually… Would he be interested, was the real question. A couple of things gave you the courage to ask. Namely, the half a glass of wine you’d drunk as well as being horny. Primarily, though, you’d blame the alcohol.

You: Are you firm on no sex?

You rolled your eyes.

You: You want body heat? There’s something I want.

Max started replying right away.

“Good god,” you whispered to yourself, staring at the string of emojis, trying to decipher their meanings. “I’m really this desperate.”

On the bright side, he was a vampire, which meant you didn’t have to worry about STDs or pregnancy—since they were technically dead, there was no live sperm, and they were immune to diseases. You were honestly thankful he was undead with how many people you knew off the top of your head he’d fucked.

You tapped at your phone.

You: Actually, I want to fuck you.

Max: Did my emojis not convey I’m DTF?

You: You didn’t list what I wanted.

His replies came fast.

You thumbed your response quickly to clarify.

There was a pause. You saw the dots appearing and disappearing. Seconds passed, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you waited.

The dots disappeared, and finally, messages started appearing.

You rolled your eyes again.

He was so full of himself.

You: I’m firm, and if you’ve never done it before, I’d ease you into it. Promise to make it really good for you.

Another pause, like he was thinking.

Finally, he started replying.

You deflated, huffing out a breath as you locked your screen and tossed the phone onto the coffee table, grabbing your wine. You’d just have to use your vibrator when you finally got into bed. That’d be fine. You took a drink, focusing back on your show.

Some minutes passed, and your phone buzzed again. You moved to grab it, unlocking it and pulling up your messages.

You grinned, setting down your glass, and sitting back into the cushions.

Max: Will it hurt?

You: It shouldn’t. I’d start with my fingers while sucking your dick.

You: Yes. Have your cock in my mouth while I slip in a finger. Suck you off, and use my fingers to make you come really hard.

His response was almost immediate.

He replied.

You sent him your address.

Excitement was pooling in your belly, getting up to put the wine away and chug the rest of your glass. You took a quick shower and slipped your satin robe over your naked body, not seeing a point in putting on anything else.

You opened your closet, getting into the large chest hidden in the back, grabbing what you needed—lube, harness, dildos, clean towel—thankful you’d trimmed and filed your nails the day before, a coat of lavender-colored polish painted on them.

Everything was placed on your giant king-sized bed towards an edge where it was out of the way but still within reach. One of the bedside lamps was turned on to give the room some ambiance.

You weren’t entirely sure what to expect—you weren’t entirely sure if Max had the ability to let you be in control. You’d find out, and he seemed eager to give it all a shot.

Three quick knocks sounded against your front door, and you immediately headed towards it, tightening your robe as you walked. You quickly undid the locks and pulled it open, finding Max leaning against the doorframe in a white v-neck and grey sweats, your eyes spotting the noticeable outline of his dick, arousal stirring in your belly.

Your eyes met his, a smirk on those perfect plush lips of his.

“Is it true I have to invite you in?” You asked. “Like, I have to explicitly give you permission, or else some mystical force keeps you outside?” You leaned into the door, your hand still on the knob.

“Yes,” Max sighed. “Protection barriers or some shit, homes being sanctuaries from malevolent creatures,” he huffed, mildly annoyed.

Your eyebrow rose.

“Are you malevolent, Max?”

The face he gave you could rival that of the smiling purple devil emoji.

“Wish to do evil? No. Wish to destroy your pussy? Yes.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Jesus, Max.”

“Oh, come on, Sweetcheeks. You know how much I want to fuck you—so much, in fact, I’m willing to let you fuck my ass, which isn’t something I’ve let anyone do. Honestly, you should feel pretty fucking special.”

“It’s honestly surprising to me that you’ve had thousands of hookups with women and men, with zero ass play.”

“There’s been ass play, babe, but I’m always the giver if you know what I mean,” he wagged his eyebrows. “Let me in. I wanna see you naked.” His eyes moved salaciously down your body, biting his bottom lip.

“Rules.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted, meeting your gaze.

“Rules,” you said again. “No, means no. I will ask before I do anything and check in on how you’re feeling. I like to use the color system—red, stop; yellow, slow down; green, go—but also safewords. Do you have one?”

“Mr. Rogers,” he answered without skipping a beat.

You made a face.

“Your safeword is Mr. Rogers?”

“Yes.”

“Okay… I’ll definitely remember that.” You took a breath before you started talking again. “If you need me to stop, slow down, or decide it isn’t your thing, I need you to communicate with me—use a color, your safeword, or just tell me to stop, and I will, zero hesitation, and no bad feelings. I want this to be as good for you as it is for me.”

His eyebrow rose.

“You get off on fucking guys?”

“And women,” you nodded.

His eyes went dark as he gasped out a fuck like he was picturing you with a woman.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“Just don’t make me regret inviting you over.”

He smiled.

“Sweetcheeks, I’m not gonna fuck up my chance to get between your legs, and frankly, I’m curious about what you’re going to do to me. You have my enthusiastic consent to do whatever the fuck you want.”

You opened the door wider, stepping out of the way.

“Max Phillips, you are invited into my home.”

“Come in, would’ve worked,” he said as he entered your apartment.

You got the door shut and locked and turned to find a big hulking vampire crowding into your space, pushing your back into the solid surface as he caged you in.

He looked at you with lust-blown eyes, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice lower, raspier, his eyes dipping down to look at your tits before meeting your gaze again.

You nodded.

His mouth was on yours immediately, like he couldn’t wait another moment, his hands cradling your face as he hungrily pressed his mouth against yours, swallowing the surprised moan that escaped your throat. You weren’t expecting the softness of his lips or how cool they were, feeling as if he’d just sucked on a popsicle. He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours in practiced motions that had your toes curling and eyes rolling back.

Butterflies were fluttering in your tummy, which was wholly unexpected—this was Max, your annoying boss, and yet your heart was pounding in your chest—your pussy throbbing at how thoroughly he was kissing you, unable to stop yourself from pushing your fingers into his hair.

He’d ignited some kind of spark inside you, your body lit up as he kissed the breath right out of your lungs, finally breaking it so he could messily kiss along your jawline and down your neck. You were breathing hard, feeling as he inhaled deeply at your pulse point.

“Fuck, you smell good,” he murmured against your skin. He laved at the spot, lightly nipping at it. “I’ve always wanted to taste you.” He grabbed a handful of your ass.

“Another rule,” you panted. “No biting unless I say it’s okay.”

His head came up.

“Sweetcheeks, I’m not gonna bite you unless you beg me to,” he winked.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Now,” he slapped your ass, making you jump a little. “Where’s the bedroom? I wanna see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock—it’s something I’ve thought about extensively, especially when you’re ordering me around.”

You sighed, pointing towards the open bedroom door.

“Hold on tight, spider monkey.”

“Wha—” the word broke off in a yelp as big hands gripped your thighs, suddenly finding yourself being easily lifted up against his body, your arms scrabbling to wrap around his neck, his mouth crashing against yours as he carried you towards the room with ease, kissing you the whole way.

You were tossed onto the mattress, leaning up to watch him pull his t-shirt off his body, hearing him kick off his shoes and push down his sweats, not even surprised he wasn’t wearing any underwear. You gulped as you took in the sight of his dick—long, thick, curved deliciously—you understood why so many people fucked him; it was a nice cock.

He was awkwardly pulling off his socks.

“This is always the least sexy part of undressing,” he mused, tugging off the last one.

“Not a sex with socks guy?”

His face scrunched up in disgust.

“Who fucks in socks?” He asked. “Unless most of the clothes are on, the socks are coming off—I’m going to be completely naked, thank you very much. Which,” he crawled onto the bed, spreading your legs to kneel between them. “It’s your turn. Let’s even the playing field. I have been dying to see your tits,” he wiggled his eyebrows, grinning.

“God, Max, you’re fucking ridiculous,” you untied the robe and let it fall open, revealing your naked body underneath.

His eyes were burning as they took you in, making you shudder at the intensity. He licked his lips before he moved, shoving his face into your chest hard enough that you fell onto your back. His cool body felt good against your heated skin, his big hands on your boobs, his head nestled between them, as he started shaking it from side to side and humming in the back of his throat.

“Are you fucking motorboating me?” You asked.

He popped up to look at you with a smirk.

“Yes? You’re so fucking warm, and they’re soft.”

“Why do people sleep with you?”

You honestly wanted to know.

“Big dick, practically zero refractory period, super strength, and I fuck like a pro,” he shrugged.

You snorted in disbelief.

He frowned slightly, eyes narrowing.

“Challenge accepted,” he stated.

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Wha—” You were cut off by lips suddenly on yours, Max moving quicker than you expected, or could even register just one second his head was between your breasts, and the next he was kissing you hard. The first kiss had been impressive, but this one, he was pulling out all the stops, his tongue tangling with yours, biting at your lips, your brain losing focus on everything around you except for the man kissing you as if his life depended on it.

His hips were slotted in the cradle of your thighs, feeling his hard cock pressed into your body, holding himself up on one arm while the other hand moved up your thigh, ghosting his fingertips over your belly and ribs, making goosebumps rise on your skin, as he got to your breast, massaging it before rolling your stiff nipple between his fingers. You moaned as jolts of pleasure shot to your core, feeling yourself dripping with need, clenching hard around nothing when he pinched at the sensitive bud.

He broke the kiss when you needed to breathe, his lips making a path sloppily kissing your jaw and neck, licking and sucking at your skin. You gasped when you felt his fangs graze over your pulse point, surprised when your pussy throbbed, a rumbling chuckle coming from Max like he was aware of your reaction.

The man had worked some kind of magic because you were all hot and bothered, cunt aching to be touched, and seeping arousal. Your skin was heated, your breaths coming out harder, his lips latched around a nipple, and your back arched as you moaned, fingers digging into the bedsheets. He was pinching at your other bud as he continued sucking before switching sides, the sensations making you moan as you began to writhe with need.

His hand skated down your abdomen, making you vibrate in anticipation, wanting him to touch you, him stopping right before he was where you needed him, a pitiful whine pulled from your throat.

He chuckled, and you frowned.

His mouth came off your nipple with a ‘pop,’ looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You want me to touch that pretty little pussy? I can smell you. I don’t even need to touch you to know you’re fucking wet.” Those long, thick fingers of his were teasing against your skin in circles. “Want to come on my fingers?”

“You can try,” you answered, not wanting to reveal your neediness.

“Oh, babe, you’re gonna come. As a matter of fact,” he looked at the clock on your bedside table. “I will make you come in less than two minutes.”

“Less than two-Oh,” you moaned as his fingers pushed through your wetness before zeroing in on your clit, the rough pads of his fingertips circling it in a way that had your hips jerking. You were so pent up that you felt that heated pressure building in your core with each movement of his digits. You couldn’t help the soft sounds slipping from your lips, your hands gripped tight against the bedspread as he worked you over.

“You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” Max asked. “You gonna come all over my hand?”

He pushed one thick finger inside you, followed by a second, and a strangled noise sounded from your mouth. His thumb was on your clit as he started pumping his fingers.

“You’re so fucking tight and warm. I really fucking hope you let me fuck this pussy.”

He sped up his fingers and applied more pressure with his thumb, your muscles tightening in your belly.

“Wanna stretch you open on my cock, and feel you come around me. Bet you get so fucking wet.”

You were getting close, winding tighter every second, unable to stop your moans, fingers digging into the bedsheets.

“You like to be in control,” he mused. “Makes you a really fucking good assistant—keeping my ass in check. But,” he leaned down, rubbing his nose along your cheek until his lips were at your ear. “I think sometimes you like someone else in control,” he rasped, nipping at your earlobe and making you shiver. “And I also think,” he crooked his fingers, hitting something blinding, fucking his fingers against it repeatedly, rocketing you towards your climax. His voice went lower. “You want to be a good girl.”

Your orgasm hit you hard, completely blindsiding you as you came with a shout. Your back arched, feeling yourself clench and arousal spill around his digits, pleasure wracking through your body.

“That’s fucking it,” he purred, kissing your cheek. “You did so well for me, pretty girl—soaking my fingers—and we still had thirty seconds to spare.”

He kept working you through your high until you stopped fluttering, opening your eyes in time to watch him bring his fingers to his mouth and suck at them lewdly.

“Mmm, knew you’d taste fucking delicious,” he said around them. He finished, his digits shiny with spit, moving to cup his hand over your pussy, looking at you with a heated gaze. “Can’t wait to eat your wet little cunt. Do you know how many times I’ve fucked my hand thinking about it?”

The orgasmic haze was leaving your brain, your features screwing up in confusion, your voice coming out a little hoarse.

“You’ve jerked off thinking about me?” You asked.

“Sweetheart, you are prime spank bank material, and the way you’re always turning me down? Fuck, I’ve never wanted someone more. Plus, I like you,” he said off-handedly.

“You like me?” You said the words slowly.

“Yeah, I do. A lot, and I trust you. So, I know whatever shit you do to me will be good,” he said earnestly, and you could see in his eyes he meant every word.

You gulped, not expecting such sweet words from Max fucking Phillips.

He was a conceited asshole, who you could’ve reported to HR on many occasions for the shit he said, and yet, you never did because you knew deep down he was harmless. Even though he hit on you constantly, and you’d caught him in many compromising situations, he really was a good boss. He made sure you had everything you needed and did what you asked with only a little complaining. If you needed a day off, you got it. If you showed up to work with a cold, he was sending you home to rest, a delivery of fresh chicken noodle soup following.

You remembered a few months back. There was a creepy new hire who was handsy and made you feel insanely uncomfortable, who’d cornered you alone in the filing room and scared you to death, Max just suddenly appearing out of nowhere. He’d sent you back to your desk, and you never saw the other guy again, assuming he was let go, but now…

“Max?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened to that new hire?”

He looked confused.

“What new hire?”

“The creepy one from the filing room.”

You saw anger flash across his face.

“I ate him,” his tone growly.

“You killed someone for me?”

“I could hear your heart pounding all the way in my fucking office, and the closer I got, could smell your fear. Yes, I killed him,” he stated with zero remorse. “You didn’t feel safe, and that needed to be dealt with.”

This knowledge was doing something to you; knowing the lengths he’d go to protect you was turning you on, feeling the beginnings of arousal in your belly.

You reached out and pulled him down to kiss you, shoving your tongue in his mouth and pushing on his body, him getting the message to pull you on top of him as he laid on his back. He was matching your energy, kissing you just as enthusiastically, his hands tugging your robe off your body, so he could touch your back and ass, his big palms roaming everywhere as you made out.

When you came up for air, you looked at him, seeing his eyes hooded and black with lust, a lazy smile on his lips, as you caught your breath.

“Can I suck your dick?” You asked huskily.

“Fuck yes,” he nodded. “Let me get comfortable. I wanna watch.”

“Okay,” you replied. “I need to get the lube.”

You moved off of him to get the bottle on the other side of the bed while he stacked pillows behind himself and settled with his back against them at the head of the bed, spreading his legs, his dick hard and resting against his stomach. You laid down on your stomach in the space he made, keeping the lube close as you ran your hands up his thighs. He had his bottom lip between his teeth as you rubbed along his hips before taking his cock in your hand, surprised for a moment with how it felt.

“Your dick’s cold,” you said, looking up at him.

It was velvety smooth and hard like iron but cold—not even room temperature, absolutely zero heat, that you hadn’t noticed when he was on top of you.

“I’m a vampire,” he answered by way of explanation.

“I just figured if you could get hard, there was some kind of blood flow, and I don’t know, warmth from said blood flow?”

“I don’t question the science behind being able to get a boner. I simply thank the powers that be for allowing me to fuck, and I use the gift at every opportunity.”

That was a very Max thing to say, and you couldn’t argue with his logic.

“I’m aware,” you replied. You started stroking his length, his hips bucking. “Now, while I’m going down on you, I’m going to slip a finger in slowly—just relax. Your immediate thought will be to clench but don’t. Once you’re nice and relaxed and taking that first finger, I’ll put in a second and finally a third.”

He nodded.

“Got it, Sweetheart. I’ll do as Frankie said and relax, 'cause I wanna come,” he winked.

You snorted.

“Those aren’t the lyrics.”

“Paraphrasing.”

You kissed the tip of his cock, and he sucked in a breath.

Grabbing the lube, you put some in your palm and started stroking him, your hand easily gliding down his shaft as you wrapped your lips around the head, teasing your tongue against all of his sensitive spots, making his hips buck up.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Shit, your mouth is so fucking warm.”

You understood his obsession with warmth now; he was probably always cold.

You came off him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“You’ve got a pretty dick,” you said.

“I know.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know how you made me come quick?” You asked.

“Yeah?” He smirked.

“Once I get my fingers inside you, it’s your turn,” you said before taking him into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks.

Max moaned loudly, a hand landing on your head.

Your eyes were on him, seeing his mouth open and eyebrows furrowed, watching you with a hungry gaze. You started bobbing, taking him further and further into your mouth, before coming up and licking a wide stripe from base to tip, swirling your tongue around it, and engulfing him once more.

“You look so fucking hot with my dick in your mouth,” his voice had dropped lower, raspier. “Such a pretty fucking girl, sucking my cock.”

You were moving your head up and down, getting him further and further in your mouth until you swallowed around him, tears leaking from your eyes as your nose brushed the curls at his base.

The low groan that rumbled from his chest had a shiver moving down your spine.

“Better than I ever fucking imagined,” his voice was strained. His hand moved to your throat, feeling himself bulging. “Fucking taking my dick in your throat, so fucking good to me.”

You had to breathe coming off of him with a gasp, a line of saliva connecting you to him.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he rasped, rubbing a thumb along your wet lower lip, his eyes glazed over.

His hand ended up back on your head as you took him back into your mouth, working him over while you grabbed the lube, squirting a generous amount onto your fingers, getting slicked up.

You had one hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, and your lubed-up fingers moved, gently grazing his hole, Max jolting from the sudden contact.

“Relax,” you reminded before taking him back in your mouth.

You were swirling your fingers, getting him nice and slick, your mouth and hand continuing to work him. Once you were satisfied, you slowly started pressing in a finger.

“Oh, fuck,” Max gasped.

His hips thrust forward, making you choke a little, but you quickly recovered, feeling him fluttering around your digit as you pushed it in—tight as a vice—having to wiggle to get it all the way in, and watching his face, seeing the slight discomfort at first before his face relaxed, his mouth going slack.

“It’s not too bad,” he rasped.

Your head came up.

“Color?” You asked.

“Green. So fucking green.”

You smiled.

“You’re doing so good for me. Here comes the second. Just relax. There will be a stretch.”

“Relax. I can do that,” he nodded, eyes hooded as he watched.

You started sucking him off again as you slowly fingered him, getting him used to the foreign feeling before pressing in your second, him doing better to relax this time, arching his back as he groaned.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted.

Your fingers were moving in him, working him until he was moaning, and you thought he was ready for the third, pulling off of him to speak.

“Color?”

“Green. Give me the third.”

He looked a little excited, and it elated you that he was enjoying himself.

“Love the enthusiasm.”

You knew this one would be the hardest, so you distracted him with your mouth and hand again while working your fingers, getting him to the point that he was babbling praise, and finally, you pressed in the last finger.

A loud, long moan was pulled from his mouth, his eyes squeezing shut, his dick twitching in your mouth as you pushed in all the way. He pressed a hand over his face, his other gripped tight on the blanket.

Your hand stilled, letting him accommodate the intrusion, focusing on blowing him, tonguing the underside, and circling the tip, over and over again, Max having to clutch at the bed with both hands and groaning.

Finally, you started moving your fingers again, fucking him open slowly, his hips bucking into your mouth.

“Why does this feel so fucking good?” He gasped.

You twisted your fingers a bit, scissored them, really making sure he was loose, his body shivering as you did it. Max attempted to speak but couldn’t make words, whining moans falling from his lips as you kept working, delighting you that he was rendered speechless for the first time since you’d met him.

It was time for the finale, and you were dripping with excitement. You knowingly crooked your fingers to hit that one spot inside him, pressing into it, and immediately, Max was spilling into your mouth—coming so hard his back arched, fingers gripping your bedding with enough force to rip the blankets, shouting your name in a strangled cry. You swallowed down his salty taste, an odd sensation that it was cold as you drank down every drop before coming off of him with a smile, feeling good about what you’d done.

Max sunk into the pillows behind him, eyes closed, looking absolutely blissed out and not even bothering to pretend to breathe. You didn’t know if he lost consciousness; he was as still as a statue—la petite mort personified, and it made you giggle as you pulled your fingers out of him, leaning to grab the towel to wipe them clean.

Your attention moved back to Max, seeing the torn blankets, and you briefly wondered if you could get away with charging new ones to the company credit card. You’d have to remember to ask him later.

“So,” you started. “What did you think?” You asked after a minute.

He peeked one eye open to look at you.

“I think I’m in love with you,” the words came out dreamily.

You laughed.

“You came that hard?”

“Marry me.”

You snorted.

“I’m not marrying you.”

“Have my vampire babies.”

“You can’t have children.” You paused. “Wait, you can’t have children, right?”

He frowned.

“No, I can’t,” he answered sadly. “Sperm are dead.” He sighed, closing his eye again.

It had never crossed your mind that Max would ever want to be a father.

“You know what that means?” You asked.

He blinked open both eyes, all feline-like, as he looked at you.

“What?” He asked.

“You can come inside me.”

You watched his face slowly light up, a big grin spreading on his lips.

“I can fuck you?” He asked, sounding excited.

You smirked.

“Max Phillips, you are invited into my pussy.”

He tried to hold in the laughter, but it just burst from him, loud guffaws, his eyes crinkling and dimple showing, his mirth making you laugh.

It took you a minute to both calm down.

He leaned forward and grabbed you, easily bringing you into his lap, kissing you the moment your faces were close. His hands cradled your jaw, slipping his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with your own, the two of you making out until it heated up and his hands were all over your body.

His eyes were dark pools when he pulled back to look at you.

“I want you to fuck me,” his voice was a deep timbre that had a tingle moving down your spine. You could feel him already hard beneath you.

“How do you want it?” You asked.

“Doggy?”

“Okay, let me get set up.”

You kissed him quickly before moving off the bed and putting everything on, going with the smaller of the two dildos.

Max was already getting into position when you crawled back onto the mattress, his head towards the headboard, ass facing you. There was just something about having a powerful vampire willing to get on his knees for you that had your body thrumming.

You moved in behind him, running a hand down his spine, making him shiver under your touch before you admired his rear, your hands massaging the plump flesh.

“Color?” You asked.

He looked over his shoulder, smiling.

“Green, babe!” He wiggled his ass. “I want you inside me.”

“If you want me to stop anytime, just say so.”

“I’ve got it, Sweetheart,” he winked before facing forward.

You grabbed the lube, pouring a good amount on his hole, and the black silicone cock settled against your center, getting it nice and slick with your hand. You had to admit, it was a bit heady, being in this position, knowing you were going to be the one to bring your partner pleasure, being in complete control.

Your hand smoothed along his spine again.

“You ready, Max?”

“Yep! So fucking ready. Put it in!”

You pressed the tip of the silicone against his opening and slowly started pressing in, Max loudly moaning, and you loved watching it disappear inside him.

The tip was in, and you paused, Max still making sounds that had your pussy throbbing.

“Is it too much?” You asked, squeezing his hip.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck, it’s so good. More.”

The tone of his voice had you grinning as you pulled the tip almost all the way out and started pushing back in, doing this a few times with Max making noises that were almost inhuman before you started working in more of the fake cock.

Inch by inch, you slowly made your way inside until you felt a little bit of resistance and paused.

“You’re clenching, baby,” you purred, rubbing his hip bones. “Relax.”

“Sorry,” his voice was strained, relaxing enough that you could keep going. “God, it feels so fucking good.”

“I know,” you cooed. “You’re doing so good for me,” continuing to push in.

The sounds he was making were akin to manic moaning, clearly hearing how good he was feeling, making a thrill move through you.

“Fuck,” he cried. “Oh, fuck. Babe, it’s so good.”

Finally, you were all the way in, your hips flush against his ass, marveling for a moment at how it stretched him open.

He fell forward onto his elbows, whining out a long fuck.

“It’s so deep,” he panted. “Is it all the way in?”

“Yes. You good?”

“So, good. So, fucking good,” he moaned.

“Ready for me to move?”

“Please,” he whined.

You started moving, pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in, going slow at first, Max mewling with each stroke. It sounded like he was losing his mind in pleasure, the noises making your cunt clench, the harness rubbing deliciously against your clit, shooting sparks to your core, and you couldn’t help it when you moaned.

“You like this, pretty girl?” Max asked, the words raspy and breathy. “You like fucking me?”

“Yes,” you answered, speeding up your thrusts and making him tremble, his head falling forward as the deranged moaning got louder.

It was hot, having this man turn to putty underneath you and hearing the noises he was making, knowing you were making him feel that good. You had a good rhythm, gliding in and out of him smoothly, hearing the wet slap of your skin hitting his, your fingers digging into his hips for leverage.

There was that familiar build in your core, harness rubbing just right, and everything you were doing spurring you on, pounding the silicone into him.

“Oh, babe,” he whimpered. “Oh, fuck. I’m drooling.”

Heavy breaths were coming out of your mouth as you adjusted your angle, pulling a sound from Max you were sure the neighbors would complain about, focusing on that point, fucking into him, and making him keen underneath you.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Oh, fuck. I love you. I fucking love you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you kept pace.

“No, you don’t, Max,” you panted.

“I need to touch you—need to feel you,” he begged.

“Sit up on your knees.”

He did as you asked, his back pressed against your front, as you fucked into him, holding an arm around his torso, while your other hand reached to grab his cock, Max shuddering as you started stroking him, him reaching behind to grab your hip.

“Thank you,” he moaned. “Thank you.”

The muscles in your belly were tightening, so worked up from everything you were doing to him and making him feel. His hips were pushing forward into your hand while you kept thrusting into him, nonsense babbling from his mouth, his cock throbbing in your touch, knowing he was close.

Your hand was moving slickly over his length, precum steadily dripping from the tip. Max was so overcome with everything he started laughing manically, interspersed with moans.

"God, I wish I could kiss you," he whined.

There was something about the desperation in his voice that had a hot spike of arousal shooting to your core, loving how even in his pleasure-addled state, he couldn’t stop thinking about you—making you feel some type of way, and you liked it. You loved this man coming undone beneath you, pulling him apart, and the fact he trusted you so much.

You adjusted your angle, again and again, until a full-body shiver moved through Max, and he gasped out an oh, fuck, his legs trembling. You zeroed in on it, hard short thrusts, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip, whimpering loudly.

“You gonna come for me, Max?” You murmured. “You gonna be a good boy and come for me?”

The sound he made would make a pornstar blush, his back arching as he came, ropes, and ropes of his come, spilling over your hand, and it sent you over the edge with him, coming with a moan of his name as you sank your teeth into his back, euphoria coursing through your veins.

Max fell forward on the bed, and you went with him, his cool skin feeling nice on your sweaty body.

He was solid beneath you, making no sound, not moving, doing his impression of an unliving statue again. Your ear was pressed against his back, and it was weird not hearing the thumping of a heartbeat. It took you a minute to recover and your breaths to even out. You gently and carefully pulled out of him, rolling to lay beside him, his face turned towards you, eyes closed.

It was strange how comfortable you felt with him—how safe. He could probably kill you in the blink of an eye, and yet you knew deep down he would never harm you. You’d always known that. You couldn’t help yourself, reaching out to rub your fingers through his hair, hearing him make an almost purring sound.

An arm grabbed your waist and pulled you against his body, him moving onto his side to hold you against him, your face shoved into his chest.

“Is that a flashlight in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Max asked, his voice hoarse.

You snorted, the dildo wedged between both of your bodies.

“He lives. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Ariana Grande was right,” Max mused.

“What?” You asked in a confused tone.

“God is a woman, and she wears a strap.”

“Oh my god, Max,” you laughed. “So, you liked it?”

He leaned back to look at you.

“You up for round two?” He asked.

“You want me to fuck you again?”

“On my back this time,” he nodded.

“Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you.”

His hand moved to the back of your head to pull you in, kissing you hard. He was quickly licking into your mouth and making you moan. When he finally broke it, he looked at you with dark eyes, simmering with want.

“When you’re done making me meet god again,” his voice was low and husky. “It’s your turn.”

“I thought god was a woman with a strap? I don’t see any ladies here to show me a good time,” you smirked.

“That’s my god. You’re going to find out your god is a big dicked vampire who’s going to make you squirt on his first try.”

Your eyebrow rose.

“You really think you’re that good?”

The look he gave you was full of promise and made you clench.

“Oh, Sweetheart, I know I’m that good, and soon you’ll believe it.”

“You can try.”

“And I’ll succeed,” he kissed you passionately. “Give you the proper worship you deserve,” he murmured against your lips.

He pulled back to look at you.

“But first,” he said. “I want you to fuck my brains out, and I want to stare at your tits while you do it.”

You sighed.

“And kiss you,” he added, giving you puppy dog eyes.

“You wanna try the bigger dildo?”

He thought it over for a second.

“Bring it on,” he nodded. “Ruin me, Sweetheart.”

Part 2 - Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @spanishmossmagnolia @star017 @javier-penas-wife @artsymaddie @hansolosleftbuttcheekk @deadhumourist @pretty-brown-eyess @hotchlover @eternallyvenus @allfoolsinluv @eppy816 @katareyoudrilling @babykangaemoji @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @bruxasolta @peachyaeger @din-jarhead @lovesbiggerthanpride @loonymagizoologist @pinebeam @spacenerdpascal @padbrookcottage @karlawithacapitalk @trickstersp8 @that-friend-in-the-corner @iamskyereads @beskarprincessjenny @beecastle @manuymesut @alexxavicry @leithatnight @trinkets01 @boiistfu @pedropascalsx @kulicny @xoxabs88xox @enjoyourlattebitch

#max phillips #max phillips/reader #max phillips x reader #fic recs #favorites

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bunny-jpeg · 1 year ago

Text

how can i take your order? all you have to do is pick a dessert, drink and driver/character of your choosing! are you in the mood for a mille-feuille or a big slice of chocolate cake! please, please, please indicate who you want me to write about!!

the servers are from the following: formula one, call of duty, baldur's gate 3, haikyuu, one piece, jujustu kaisen, detective comics (dc), marvel comics (but i am open to any other fandoms you might have in mind! please do not hesitate to ask!!)

i do also accept polyam relationships! (pairing + reader), up to about four people! just to make it manageable on my end!

all orders can be made to the inbox for @bunny-jpeg and i'll get your order together asap! also let me know if you want it extra sweet or a little more spicy !

mille-feuille: “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

butter tart: "let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

sugar pie: “gonna let daddy hear ya?”

zebra cake: "well, what do we have here?"

carrot cake: "swallow it. all of it."

millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family."

pots de crème: "if a picture is worth a thousand words, then i could probably get a million dollars for this photo."

oat flapjacks: "i'm not scared of you."

persian rolls: "it's mandatory i finish. you getting to finish is a treat."

spice pie: "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut."

mushroom pie: "if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up."

lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making."

swiss roll: "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you."

pumpkin pie: "i've met strays who were more obedient."

pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work."

sausage roll: "i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt."

pithivier: "if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you."

tiramisu: “my little slut to ruin.”

sponge toffee: "aw, is someone mad that they can only cum because of me?"

pull-apart bread: "i love you"

powered sugar donuts: "marry me."

blueberry bars: “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”

pudding chomeur: "i don't share."

ice cream bars: “did you see the way he was eyeing you? he need to know you're mine."

chocolate cake: "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."

soufflé: "i'll be gentle."

fried dough: "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours."

apple pie: "now be good and beg. thank you."

vanilla cheesecake: "where are your manners?"

berry trifle: "wrong. try again."

maple cream pie: "either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck."

s'more: "The accent gets to you, doesn't it?"

belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night."

pancakes: "if you bite me. i'll bite you back."

loaf of whole wheat bread: "you're going to shut that mouth and take me."

jos louis: "does someone need a daddy?"

maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid."

snowballs: "don't worry, drug tests aren't till next week."

shortbread cookies: "and who does this belong to?"

flan: "i'm not possessive... i'm obsessive."

peach cake: "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

angel food cake: "if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you."

red velvet cupcake: "if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one."

mince pie: "i'm not jealous."

banana bread: "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name."

crumb cake: "if you just listened, all of this could've been avoided."

chocolate chip cookies: "you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat"

nanaimo bars: "who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."

coffee cake: "knees. now."

sourdough bread: "i'm going to breed you."

blueberry muffins: "i don't think it'll fit."

pound cake with strawberries: "you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

croissant: "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

crepe: "pretty girl."

french toast: "you're trying to make me jealous!"

churros: "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"

shortbread squares: "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."

savory pastry: "let your brother find out."

sweet pastry: "i'll make it all better."

eclairs: "the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut."

boston cream pie: "yeah, i'll use protection."

bagel: “gonna paint you with my teeth.”

crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”

tres leches: "i wonder if your brother know i cum in you."

peanut butter bars: “scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”

eton mess: "be careful. your breath smells like cum."

scones: "but what if they see us!"

english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?"

honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes."

banana split: "don't look at me like that."

beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog."

fudge: "your father is pissing me off."

sticky toffee pudding: "the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant."

hot cross buns: "don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up."

brownies: "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."

chocolate mousse: "the only necklace you need is my hand around your throat"

tim bits: "stupid little thing."

fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special."

cornmeal muffin: "i need you most."

devil's food cake: "you're my most unhealthy obsession."

crème caramel: "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"

banana & chocolate muffins: "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them."

custard tart: "i've never done this before."

cinnamon rolls: "no one needs to know."

mango sorbet: "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?"

date squares: "you look better with my marks on you."

figgy duff: "if i buy it, will you stop pouting?"

spicy upside down cake: "let's play a game: don't get caught."

cream puffs: "let me finish inside."

profiteroles: "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."

with a side of:

coffee: rivals

tea: semi-public/public sex

juice: cockwarming

mocha coffee: breeding kink

bubble tea: daddy kink

a vodka shot: rough sex

sparkling water: gentle sex

coconut water: alternate universe

energy drink: doggy style

champagne: sugar daddy situation

hard lemonade: possessive behaviour

espresso shot: dirty talking

a glass of wine: cowgirl position

ice capp coffee: werewolf au

bloody mary: vampire au

martini: mafia au

frozen latte: dumbification

frozen lemonade: consensual non-consent

cranberry juice: mean!character

glass of water: aftercare

chocolate milk: tenderness

milkshake: size kink

pina colada: pregnancy

cider: body worship

mai tai: loss of virginity

margarita: unprotected sex

mint julep: punishments

chai: biting/hickies

earl grey: big cock

fishbowl cocktail: protected sex

tonic water: age gap

matcha latte: collars/bondage

root beer: filming/recording

soda: jealousy

americano: oral sex

whisky: degrading language

vitamin water: dom/sub dynamic

irish coffee: high sex

sangria: drunk sex

dark roast coffee: sub!character

dark hot chocolate: sub!reader

iced tea: accidentally launching relationship

lemon water: university/college au

naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader

on the house: author's choice!

ORDER UP!

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syd-djarin · 2 months ago

Text

she's my collar - frankie morales x f!reader

**reupload**

Frankie gets jealous of your handsy boss at your work gala. He’s got an idea to remind you that you’re his (and that he belongs to you).

tags/warnings: EXPLICIT 18+, newly established relationship, special Max Phillips mention, they're in love!, slight age gap (frankie is 44, reader is 35 in my mind) use of LEASH + collar (on reader), a jealous and possessive Frankie, first big "fight", sex in front of mirror, fingering, a lil rimming/butt play action, eating it from the back, Frankie is a NASTY DOG so he's doing it doggy style, cowgirl position, excessive use of pet names(baby, bebita, etc.) a few sluts sprinkled in, use of spanish, creampie (unprotected p in v sex), healthy communication and healthy relationship dynamics, frankie is a loverboy, love confession

*reader wears makeup & a dress but isn't really described so use that beautiful imagination! I wrote this with a plus size reader in mind, but NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTIONS are used. No skin tone, ethnicity or race descriptors used, she is YOU.

thank u to my beautiful babes @almostempty, @gothcsz and @myownwholewildworld for being my cheerleaders and for matching my freak! <333

wc: 2.5k

resources: consulted spanish use here by @urmomsgnocchi and here by @myownwholewildworld, inclusivitity in fandom

smut below the cut ;)

“What is it, Frankie? You've been quiet since we hopped on the elevator.”

“It’s nothing, I promise.”

”You’re a terrible liar,” you lightly tease. “ I know you don’t love crowds, I’m sorry. I should have checked in with you throughout the night…. I was just—”

”its not that—“

”— excited to bring you to the gala, I’ve never had anyone to bring and I wanted to show you off to everyone… oh my god, is the room too much? We don’t have to stay, I just figured it would be late and it was comped by the company so it made sense.. even though neither of us drink I just thought ya know we could have a mini staycation for a night… I mean we made it official like, last month. Fuck, I’m sorry, I mean you had to rent a suit! I—“ you ramble your hands wildly punctuating your thoughts.

You’re overthinking the entire night.

”No, no, s’not that.” He grabs your hand and squeezes three times (for I love you). “I’m happy to be your plus one any time, any place,” he kisses your knuckles. His beard tickles your fingers, making you giggle.

“I….ahem..” he clears his throat. “Was a little jealous,” he admits, looking down at his shoes.

Shame swirls in his gut, deep down, he knows this is just an insecurity rearing its vicious head. He learned the difficult and very hands on way that burying his feelings eventually makes the wounds fester. So, he’s keeping the wounds clean, so to speak.

“Jealous?! Jealous of what?”

“I don’t like being the guy who gets jealous when another dude even looks at their partner… I didn’t think I was that kinda guy but…”

“But?…”

“I don't like that sleazy motherfucker you work with,”

“Who?”

“You know, the clean shaven douche canoe who kept touching you all night.”

”Max? My boss?”

”Matt, Max, whatever his name is. Didn’t like the way he looked at you…kept putting his hand on your shoulder…”

You’ve had jealous boyfriends before and it's not an experience you’re looking to have again. It has your nerve endings on edge and you feel heat rise from your chest to your face.

“I appreciate your honesty but I can’t help it, okay? I mean he’s just...like that.”

“So you let him get away with it?”

“Get away with it??!” You rip your hand from his and scurry to the adjoining bathroom. ”What do you want me to do? I need this job, Frankie.” You hastily start removing your evening glam, using too-aggressive-for-your-face circles with the cleanser, ignoring the way your heart is racing, a bit from anger and a hint of something else...

He follows you, leaning against the doorframe. Even though your back is to him, you know he looks ridiculously hot right now.

“Look… I didn’t mean to be accusatory or blame you. I know it sounded that way and I’m sorry. It's just…”

“Just what?” you avoid his eyes taking advantage of the sudsy wash covering your face.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re it for me, baby. I get scared though… of losing you.”

Frankie has never been this vulnerable before. He's a lot more open and laid back than he used to be, and he’s not shy about telling you how he adores you, all the things he loves about you, the future he sees with you. But candidly speaking about his fears and doubts, the insecurities that threaten to swallow him whole, well, he’d rather be swallowed up by a giant fish.

Despite the annoyance of his jealousy, you hate to admit you feel your clit jump and the palpitations are no longer from anger, but from arousal.

“I understand. Completely. I have fears, insecurities too… but Frankie,” you sigh, “I don’t like a jealous partner. In my experience… it just escalates and…”

“So you wouldn’t feel jealous?”

“There a reason I should be?” You feel like you’re going to rip out of your skin. Your attempt to deflect is doing little to mask the ferocity bubbling within you.

“No? I was hoping that us talking about it would, you know...help.” Frankie says, a little softer and a bit more disarmed than his previous words.

“Well it didn’t help, you just…just pissed me off,” you snap back, so flustered and tumbling over your words, one of your tells that you’re turned on.

It’s then it clicks for him. He grins wickedly.

“Wanna know what I think? I think you like it.”

“What? Frankie—“

”I think…” Frankie steps closer, crowding you against the bathroom sink. “You like that I’m jealous. I think that it makes your little pussy wet. And you don’t know what to do about it.”

“No, I don’t like it—“ You try turning your head away but his hand finds your chin and turns you back to him.

“It’s okay if you like it baby… Maybe, this is the first time you've been turned on by it, perhaps it's because I'm not one of these fucking dipshits you've dated before... or, you’re a filthy slut…” he leans even closer, his breath tickling your ear. “I should put you on a leash.”

He beckons you to follow him to his overnight bag. He pulls out a leash and collar made of smooth black leather and adorned with metallic hardware. He must have seen the sites you were browsing clandestinely in preparation of sharing your fantasy with him. He’s so attuned to you, your emotions, your thoughts, it’s no surprise he caught on so quickly.

You’re dizzy from the emotional whiplash, you were ready to throttle him moments ago and now you need him to fuck you to tears.

He gently fastens the collar around your neck. “How’s that feel?”

You’re momentarily stunned, your brain desperately trying to catch up.

“Mírame, bebita,” he turns your head to face him in the mirror hanging directly across from the bed. You knew Frankie would take advantage of the ceiling to floor mirrors adorning the room.

“Good girl. keep your eyes forward for me, okay?”

“G-ood,” you rasp out, unable to form any other words.

“Want you to get used to just the collar then we’ll add the leash, yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Need your words, honey.”

“Y-yes, Frankie. Sounds good to me.”

He kisses your temple. “Good.”

Frankie’s big hands cup your breasts, massaging them, thumbing your nipples. He’s slow and methodical in the way he builds up the sensations.

“F—fuck, feels good,” you moan.

“I love these tits… love the way they feel in my hands, love them in my mouth…” he punctuates his point, slightly pinching and pulling your hardened nipples. “Hard to keep my hands to myself, especially around others…”

The thought of Frankie claiming you in front of others, especially your boss, makes you moan involuntarily.

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you? Showin’ everyone how sweet you beg for my cock, how much your pussy drools for it?”

He’s got you on all fours close to the edge of the bed and he’s behind you.

“Fucking love your ass, baby.” He kneads the soft flesh of your cheeks, spreading you open. Cool air hits your dripping core, goosebumps raising on your skin.

Frankie lowers his head closer to your ass and spits. He groans watching the trail of saliva drip from your asshole down to your clit. You clench around nothing, desperate to be stuffed full of him.

“Pussy’s droolin’ just for me, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan.

Frankie lands a smack to your right cheek. “C’mon, tell me, baby. Tell me who makes your pussy gush like this?”

“Yo-you, only you, Frankie!”

He swats your other cheek. “That’s right.”

“Fuck I’ll never get over this pussy,” he growls into you, he licks long stripes from your clit to your soaked entrance, caressing you with his tongue.

He’s said on multiple occasions his love language is eating pussy. You can’t argue with that.

He knows how hard to suck on your clit, where you like the tip of his tongue, where you like the broad strokes, when to alternate between all the motions.

Normally he’d take this part slow too, but the jealousy that’s lodged itself in his chest is still calling the shots.

“Bet your asshole tastes just as sweet.” he pulls back to give you space to consent.

“You want to–?” you turn your head to peek behind you and look at Frankie directly.

“Yeah baby, but only if you want it,” he says, caressing the backs of your thighs.

“Yes, please.”

“My pretty girl is sweet too, asking so nicely…tell me what feels good and what doesn’t, okay?”

You manage to you choke out a yes, baby.

He ghosts the tip of his tongue around your asshole, the lightest of pressures, swirling it to ease you into the feeling.

The new sensation has you reeling, thankful Frankie is focused on your ass more than the way you look in the mirror right now — truthfully you almost didn’t recognize the hazy, ravaged woman staring back at you.

Two of Frankie's thick fingers enter your dripping hole, curling them to hit the spot that makes your legs shake.

"Oh-fuuuuuuck!" You squeal when his tongue continues lapping at your ass and his fingers are hooked, pumping in and out of your pussy. "Please, Frankie I need to come, pleeeaase."

“You filthy girl... you want to come on my fingers?"

"Uh-huh.”

"Show me what you got, bebita. Soak my fingers and I'll put the leash on, c'mon, you're so close I can feel it."

His encouragement, talking you through it never fails to hurl you over the edge. You're warm and tingly all over, breath in shallow pants - the first orgasm with Frankie is always a gentle one that preps you for what comes next.

Frankie peppers kisses on your lower back, the back of your thighs, murmuring praises against your skin. Did so good for me, my pretty girl, love watching you come, always wanna make you feel good…

Frankie clips the leash onto the collar. He tugs gently to bring your back to his chest.

“Feelin’ good, baby?” His lips ghosting your temple.

“Yeah, s’good,” you slur.

He chuckles - it's adorable how cock drunk you get.

Frankie taps the thick head of his cock against your clit, sliding it through your lips a few times.

“Please, Frankie, I need you…” you whine.

He lands a swat to your ass. “Yeah? And what is it that you need from me?”

Normally you’d have a rejoinder for him, but your head is hazy and all you want is your Frankie and his big cock inside you. And because you like getting what you want, you play along.

“Need you to fuck me, baby. I need your cock inside me… wanna be full, please baby…” you whine in a syrupy tone he falls victim to every time.

His cock bottoms out in one sweet push, your moans harmonize, stars form on the edges of your vision just from the fullness.

“Fuck, gimme a minute.” He nearly busts prematurely– the pent up feelings, the way your eyes gleamed when he pulled out the collar, the privilege of being vulnerable with you.

You push back against him, seeking friction and movement. This earns you a spank and a tug, pulling your head back so he can groan right in your ear.

“Needy girl…Balls deep inside you and it’s not enough for you is it? Always a slut for this cock aren’t you baby?” A shiver runs up your spine. Slut is a new one. Must have come with the leash.

“Yeahhh, I know you like being my pretty slut.”

He begins deep, slow thrusts before picking up a steady rhythm, hitting that spot each time.

Frankie's been edging you - bringing you so close to release before cruelly and deliciously taking it away. Tears, drool and your juices have drenched the hotel comforter.

"Frankie, please I can't, I need to come, please please, Frankie!" You beg.

He abruptly pulls out of you and situates himself against the headboard. He pulls the leash, guiding you into his lap.

"Wanna watch you cum on my cock...wanted these fucking tits in my face baby," he moans, taking a pert nipple in his mouth. You sink down onto him, every nerve ending in your body on fire - you're already on the verge of release, just from being filled at this angle.

Frankie's free hand finds your clit and begins calculated circles, all while tugging your head to meet his. Sweat drenched foreheads pressed together, Frankie's hips meet your movements, his hips bouncing off your ass in each thrust.

"I'm close–” you’re dazed, floaty, absolutely wrecked.

“Whose pussy is this?” He growls.

“Yours–!”

“Say it again. Whose fucking pussy is this?” this time louder, more raw than before.

“Yours, Frankie! O-only yours.”

“Again, say you’re mine, baby..” His voice trembles.

You know he needs this –needs reassurance, and this is his way of asking for it.

“Only yours, only ever yours–” grind. “forever baby… not–” grind. “Going–” grind. “anywhere…”

“Come for me, show me how pretty your pussy creams for me. Godddddddamnnn baby, fuck—“ Frankie groans.

If he had to choose how to go out of this world, it would be just like this.

OhmygodFrankiefuckI’mcomingohfuckohfuck is the jumbled chant that escapes your lips when you soak his cock. He’s mesmerized by the way your pussy lips spread open for his cock, how divinely sinful your pussy looks covered in your cum, how your cum looks on his shaft – creamy rings of your cum adorn his cock. He’d keep it that way forever if he could, a type of lecherous jewelry he’d wear in pride.

“Cum for me, Frankie, baby it's your turn.”

“Where? Quick–”

“Inside! Inside me pl–”

“Oh ffffffuuuuuckkk, baby,” he whines as cum spills into you. “Oh, I love you so fucking much…” he declares before burying his face in your neck. He swiftly unhooks the leash and collar before collapsing into each other's embrace, and you wrap around him koala bear style.

I love you so much.

The first time it's been uttered in your relationship. You’ve both felt it, knew what you both share is a once in a lifetime love, but, both of you bring past baggage. Neither afraid of loving again, but afraid of what happens when you name it as such. It feels silly now that he’s said them.

You tug on his curls to gaze into his sable eyes. “I love you, Francisco. More than you know.”

He smirks – the coy and sheepish one he gets when he doesn’t know how to accept a compliment. The irony that he just put you in a collar and rearranged your guts, but is shy about confessing your love to him is not lost on you.

“Yeah, I get the general idea.”

“Hmm, maybe if you’re not convinced, I should put you on the leash next time.”

tagging some frankie babes: @hellishjoel @for-a-longlongtime @jolapeno @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @kirsteng42 @studioghibelli @katiexpunk @thedilfdiaries

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almostfoxglove · 5 months ago

Text

SOUNDS DANGEROUS

📧 a max phillips one shot for @jolapeno's dearuary challenge

RATING: Explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 2.6k PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader PROMPT: A long-distance relationship blossoms through emails, but the tension of being apart grows. CW: This is pretty goofy, a tiny bit sort of almost angsty, but mostly just silly. Reader uses a fake name.

SUMMARY: When you reply to a bizarre craigslist ad, a stranger on the other side of the country charms his way into your life.

read on ao3 | main masterlist | get notifs @foxglovenotifs

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 9:39 AM To: <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Craigslist Ad

Hello! Hoping to work out if you’re a weirdo or if the ad you posted here is serious. I could use the money, but would like to pass on being murdered in some random basement or finding out the hard way that this is code for some weird sex thing.

Let me know!

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 3:21 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Re: Craigslist Ad

Dawn,

Thanks for reaching out. I can assure you the ad is very serious—unfortunately it is not “some weird sex thing” (sounds a little judgy, if you ask me), and my basement happens to be full up at the moment. And on the other side of the country, if that’s any comfort.

I need the package shipped ASAP. Looking for serious applicants only. Payment will be transferred when tracking information has been shared. Can you confirm you’re interested and available this week? Tomorrow would be best.

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 5:10 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Craigslist Ad

Hi,

Cool. Tomorrow’s fine with me, I’ve got an appointment in the afternoon but if it’s not too far by bike I can grab the package and mail it in the morning first thing. Can you share the address?

Just a heads up—I will be sending it to my roommate so she can, you know, follow up if I don’t make it home. Your email and ad too. I took screenshots. And I carry mace. For the record.

Dawn

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 7:01 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Re: Craigslist Ad [Sent with 1 attachment]

Dawn,

Sorry, got held up in a meeting.

Share whatever information you need to. Smart girl with the mace, though it won’t be necessary. Still, bring it along! Always best to be cautious. However, I am concerned about your “bike.” Surely a car would be much more efficient. The pickup location is a little outside of the hustle and bustle, if you will. It’s very important I receive the package on time.

Perhaps you could scrounge up a more reliable vehicle for the morning?

I’m attaching the address of the pickup location here. Please send confirmation.

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 7:16 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Craigslist Ad

A meeting? If you’re on the other side of the country, isn’t it like… 10PM where you are??

Also, my bike’s just fine, thanks. I can leave early and make it work. Wait - how do I know you’re actually gonna pay me? I feel like I should get half up front as a symbol of, I don’t know, good faith or whatever.

Yeah, actually. I’m gonna need half now. My paypal uses this email address.

Best to be cautious, right?

From: PayPal <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 7:25 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: You’ve got money

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 7:27 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Re: Craigslist Ad

You haven’t heard? No rest for the wicked, honey.

Send tracking info when you have it, and I’ll send over the rest. Don’t make me regret it! Oh—I should mention, it’s very important you do not open the package. It’ll be wrapped and addressed, so you just need to pedal it over and make the drop, got it? You can ask for Victor when you pick it up, he’ll be expecting you.

Also, have you ever considered working in sales? I’m always hiring.

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2014 at 10:04 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Sent your weird box [Sent with 1 attachment]

Max,

You’re lucky I’m strapped for cash. Maybe I should’ve backed out when you insisted I not open the package (super suspicious, by the way!), but I went ahead and cycled 27 miles to, oh, what’s that? A FUCKING CEMETERY.

No, I didn’t open your stupid box, but it was fucking heavy. If I’ve just mailed you someone’s head, I swear to god I’ll find your ass and take yours as reparations. Also, the guy was a total creep. Victor? Whatever. Not gropey, but like, I think I’ll sleep worse knowing I live in the same city as the fucking crypt keeper. So thanks for that!

Here’s your tracking info. I’d like the rest of the money now.

Dawn

From: PayPal <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2014 at 3:08 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: You’ve got money

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2014 at 3:10 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Sent your weird box

Believe it or not, Victor looks pretty good for his age.

Thanks for doing business!

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2015 at 6:20 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Request

Dawn, honey!

What are the odds I might be able to talk you into running a little package to the post office for me again?

Same payment stands.

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 7:22 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Anniversary

Hey, you know what today is?

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 7:53 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

Hmmm… let me think. Two years since you swindled me into cycling in the pouring rain to meet the scariest man I’ve ever seen in my life? If you’re trying to build suspense, you really shouldn’t put the answer in the subject line. Just saying!

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 7:57 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

I’ll pass on the snark, princess. Two years!

But let’s not count our ducks too soon. Victor’s only the scariest man you’ve ever seen in your life so far. Still plenty of time for me to claim the title when you set eyes on me.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 8:21 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

You know, you talk a big game for a man who won’t send me a photograph of himself. For all I know you could be gorgeous. Or extremely average. Completely forgettable.

Anyway. Guessing you need another shipment. I’ve got a couple days off this week and can go pick it up. Also, do I get a gift for two years of loyalty? Feel like I oughta get a commemorative mug or something.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 8:30 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

It’s for your own good, sweetheart. One photo of me and our professional relationship would go up in flames. Would hate to mess up a good thing.

Re: Gift—I will not be making you a commemorative mug. You know how many of those corporate sends out? Garbage, all of them. Got anything better in mind? A little more exciting?

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 8:34 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

I wanna know what I ship you every year. Please know that if it turns out to be someone’s head or any other body part, my promise to cut yours off as payback still stands.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 8:48 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

You wound me, Dawn. Such little faith, but alright. I’ll bite.

When you pick up the package this week, you can open it up. But no fucking with the shipping label, yeah? And no spilling anything. Be gentle.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 11:02 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

I’ve been mailing you a box of DIRT once a year this whole time??? Jesus fucking christ, Max. Do I wanna know??

Forget it. I probably don’t. I’m just glad it wasn’t a head.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 3:53 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

It’s just a little something from home! Helps me sleep. Harmless, no?

Real shame, this whole across the country thing. Would kill to have seen the look on your face when you popped that sucker open.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 4:49 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

Okay, that’s fucking weird, Max. I have, like, so many more questions. What are you doing with it that you need more once a year???

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 5:11 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

I need more when I move apartments, obviously. Not going to vacuum it up and shake it out of the little bag. Would be filthy—and not the fun kind.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 5:30 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

Wait, you move apartments every year? No wonder you use a PO Box.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 7:24 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

Company policy. They send me in, I whip a branch into winning shape, then move right along. Gotta let the kids make their own kills eventually!

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Jun 8, 2017 at 12:15 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Call

Hey, I thought about it some more and I guess I’ve decided that if you were going to stalk and murder me you would’ve done it by now (or you’re playing like… the world’s most boring long game), and it might be nice to put a voice to the name. Maybe you have a cool accent?

Anyway, here’s my phone number I guess?

This feels so awkward for no reason.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Jun 10, 2017 at 11:29 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Call

I’ll call when I wrap up on Friday. Should be between meetings at 6 your time!

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Thu, Jun 11, 2017 at 8:00 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Call

You’re totally going to make me regret giving you my phone number, aren’t you?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Thu, Jun 11, 2017 at 6:02 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Call

Sorry, sweetheart. No going back now.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 3:48 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: [No Subject]

Dawn,, ,

aRe you asleep? You better be aslepe. But if youre awake, call me. I like your voice,

Think this guy was rpetty drunk. Maybe high. Tha’ts my bad. HOpe my autocorrect is saving this but I mean it if you’re awake I wanna hear your voice, Okay?

Your, s Max

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 9:10 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever received a drunk email before. It’s much better than a drunk phone call - these screenshots will live forever.

Anyway, I’m guessing you’re asleep right now (you better be) but you’re probably gonna feel like shit whenever you get up. I nonetheless expect a full report on my desk of all your debauchery tomorrow. Your coworkers seem rowdy as hell. I don’t know how you get anything done.

Happy headache!

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 6:04 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Sorry, honey. Tales of my debauchery are far too scandalous to be immortalized in writing. All disclosures must be done in person, off record, so you’re shit out of luck—serves you right for your little screenshots. So mean.

I won’t forget this.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 6:23 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

You can pout all you like, Maxwell. You like the sound of my voice and I’ve got cold hard proof. Can’t take it back now!

Okay, but really, that’s gotta be the best email I’ve ever received (you’re competing against newsletters I don’t remember signing up for and updates from my cousins about their ten thousand offspring, but still, the title stands).

And you’ve got a pretty nice voice too, I guess. I can see how you swindle all those unsuspecting civilians into forking over their life savings!

Got plans tonight, but I could call tomorrow if you wanted. You can keep me company while I, gasp!, fold some laundry. Pretty exciting stuff for a Monday, I know.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 7:10 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Evening plans? Don’t tell me you’ve got a date, sweetheart. Might break my heart.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 10:27 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Har, har. I do have a life, you know, that doesn’t include being your dirt-runner once a year. Shipper? Smuggler? I kind of like smuggler. Sounds dangerous.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 5:53 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

I’d like to think you know you’re more than a “dirt smuggler” to me. Aren’t we friends? Three years isn’t nothing, you know. I don’t keep just anyone around.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 7:42 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Jesus, Max. You make it sound like I should be fucking thanking you for talking to me. That feels pretty shitty.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 7:47 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Ugh ignore my last email, sorry

Sorry. My night was shit but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know you were joking. If you still want to call, I wouldn’t mind hearing your voice. And I really do have laundry to fold. I could use someone barking at me to do it.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 11:08 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Ugh ignore my last email, sorry

I meant what I said, honey. That guy has no idea how bad he’s missing out, and I’d be happy to pay him a little visit on your behalf. You’d be surprised how intimidating I can be, when the need arises. Very scary.

Don’t be shy, hm? Always happy to boss someone around.

Sleep tight.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 2:22 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Delivery

Thought it was about time I send you a little mail—should be arriving shortly.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 7:41 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery [Sent with 1 attachment]

Hey… is this for real?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 7:56 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

I don’t joke about airfare, honey. Ticket’s real and all yours—we’re long overdue for a little meet-up, don’t you think? Wanna see my smuggler’s pretty face in the flesh.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 9:12 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

I’m picturing you in your late 60s, with a beer belly, comb-over, and black teeth. Am I close? Wait - don’t tell me. I want it to be a horrible, hideous surprise.

Thanks, by the way. I don’t really know what to say.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 9:30 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

I’ll try not to let you down at the big reveal.

Happy birthday.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 10:09 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

By the way… is this a good time to break it to you that my name isn’t actually Dawn?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 10:10 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

EXCUSE ME???

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 10:17 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

You were a stranger on craigslist!! This is a burner email so I don’t get stalked and chopped up into little pieces when I reply to sketchy ads. I didn’t know we’d end up friends. I never knew how to slip that in casually. My bad.

But you can’t be mad at me on my birthday. So don’t be mad.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 10:18 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

My world is shattered. You’re killing me, baby.

I want your real email, please. And name.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Jul 22, 2018 at 5:41 PM To: You Subject: Visit

Hi. Just got word a company-wide conference has been moved up to next week. Mandatory attendance, blah blah blah. Boring. Turns out they can’t have the boss of the highest earning branch playing hooky. Boo :-(

Can we move your flights to next month? Want to give you my undivided attention—promise I’ll make it up to you.

From: You Date: Sun, Jul 22, 2018 at 5:43 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Visit

Wait, for real? My flight’s in like… 5 days. I booked the time off work two months ago.

I don’t mind if you’ve got work stuff while I’m there! Sorta figured you’d be working at least part of the time I’m in town - I’m happy to entertain myself. We can just hang out whenever you’re done.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Jul 22, 2018 at 5:50 PM To: You Subject: Re: Visit

Afraid these conferences tend to run a little… late into the night, and daylight hours aren’t exactly my specialty. Sort of a night owl.

Would hate for you to come all this way and not get to enjoy you. Don’t want any interruptions.

Next month?

From: You Date: Sun, Jul 22, 2018 at 9:21 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Visit

Right.

I’ll have to check if I can move things. Can I let you know?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Aug 15, 2018 at 4:11 AM To: You Subject: Call?

Can I call you this week? Hate that you’re mad at me. I’m sorry about our visit, baby. Just talk to me. What about next month, could you come then? Is your sister still in town? You could still come now, before end of quarter ramps up!

From: You Date: Wed, Aug 17, 2018 at 11:24 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Call?

I told you I wasn’t able to get my vacation time back. If you want to see me so badly, maybe you should fly here. It really sucked when you blew me off.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Aug 17, 2018 at 7:51 PM To: You Subject: Re: Call?

Travel doesn’t agree with me. Too much sunlight. It’s complicated. Plus I wanna show you my place. It’s very swanky, you know. Has a huge tub. You’d love it. And I’ll get you all your favorite snacks, hm? Won’t have to lift a finger—I’ll take care of everything. Just need you to come here, okay? I can explain in person.

I’ll call after this meeting wraps. If you send me to voicemail, I’m just gonna try again. I can be very persistent, you know.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, Aug 19, 2018 at 1:32 AM To: You Subject: Please

This whole ignoring Max song and dance is getting old. Forgive me already! Work was out of my hands, but I miss talking to you. Like getting your little emails, even when you’re teasing me. I miss calling you. We don’t have to talk! I can listen to you fold your laundry and you can hate me the whole time.

Feeling a little pathetic over here, baby. Put me out of my misery.

From: Lily of the Valley Florist <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Aug 20, 2018 at 3:00 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your order has been delivered!

From: Lily of the Valley Florist <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Aug 27, 2018 at 2:15 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your order has been delivered!

From: Rocky Mountain Chocolate <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Sep 18, 2018 at 12:49 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your order has been delivered!

From: Lily of the Valley Florist <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 3 2018 at 12:49 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your custom order has been delivered!

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 3 2018 at 3:59 PM To: You Subject: Today

Hey, you know what today is?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 6, 2018 at 7:03 PM To: You Subject: Miss my smuggler

I know you’ve put me on ice—would still really like to talk about that, by the way—but it’s coming up on refill season, so to speak…

Need to talk to you. I know you’ve blocked my number and that the flowers are arriving. Do you like them? Are you allergic? I had to guess. Thought you might be a ranunculus girl, but I’m open to notes, you know. I’m very trainable.

Just tell me what to do to make it up to you. Let me take care of you.

From: You Date: Fri, Oct 9, 2018 at 9:47 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Miss my smuggler [Sent with 1 attachment]

Sent your box. Here’s the tracking info.

The flowers are beautiful but please stop sending them. I don’t have enough vases and it’s getting a little ridiculous.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 9, 2018 at 6:03 PM To: You Subject: Re: Miss my smuggler

So what I’m hearing is… you liked the flowers?

From: Lily of the Valley Florist <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 12 2018 at 2:47 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your custom order has been delivered!

From: You Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 4:30 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: *waving white flag*

Okay, I’ve unblocked your fucking number. Please stop sending flowers. I surrender. Oh my god.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 4:39 PM To: You Subject: Re: *waving white flag*

It’s the ranunculus, isn’t it?

From: You Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 5:10 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: *waving white flag*

What’s the ranunculus?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 5:11 PM To: You Subject: Re: *waving white flag*

Your favorite flower. I guessed it right.

From: You Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 5:14 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: *waving white flag*

Shut up.

Please resume groveling on the phone. And no more flowers. I mean it.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 5:19 PM To: You Subject: Fwd: Your flight has been booked!

No more flowers. Cross my heart.

One little tweak—how about I do that groveling in person? Snagged a seat on a red eye.

dividers by @saradika-graphics! thanks again to jo for hosting the dearuary challenge - this was so much fun.

#max phillips fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #max phillips #max phillips x you #max phillips x reader #bloodsucking bastards #almostfoxglove #myfics #jolapenosdearuary #pedro pascal

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javierpenaispunk · 2 months ago

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Here’s a list of some my favorite fics written by very talented people. It will be updated regularly with new fics but also with some older ones as I am trying to catch up with the ones I missed.

Some fics are tagged as mature so please do not read/interact with these works if you are under 18.

If you enjoyed any of these fics as much as I did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors ♡

• Joel Miller

• Javier Peña

• Frankie Morales

• Javi Gutierrez

• Din Djarin

• Marcus Pike

• Oberyn Martell

• Dieter Bravo

• Dave York

• Agent Whiskey

• Ezra

• Max Phillips

• Lucien de Leon

• General Acacius

(More characters coming soon)

#joel miller x reader #javier peña x reader #frankie morales x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #din djarin x reader #marcus pike x reader #oberyn martell x reader #dave york x reader #dieter bravo x reader #agent whiskey x reader #ezra x reader #max phillips x reader #lucien de leon x reader #general acacius x reader #fic recs #fic recs masterlist

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pedgito · 4 months ago

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february is over and i can feel the seasonal depression leaving my body as we speak, i was a little lacking on reading this month being so busy irl, but i still have so many goodies on this list. i'd also like to add that some lovely mutuals are spreading much needed love to our BIPOC writers, so if you have any recs that you'd like to give some extra attention to you can check out these posts linked below (& feel free send them to my inbox too! i'm always looking for more fics to read!) x — x also, i've said this a few times in the past but i do have a tracked tagged #useralii and that isn't just for gifs (so if you have fics or edit that you'd like to tag me in, please feel free!)

this key will help you figure out which fics are more your vibe, or if you’re just curious of the contents before you dive in:

smut = 🌶️, fluff = ☁️ angst = ☄️

total fics listed below: 21

✎ — 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

↝ prisonic fairytale by @kedsandtubesocks — 🌶️, ☄️

You’re looking for someone… what you find here in the fog instead has you staring into the abyss - and you discover it stares back (& wears the face of someone terrifyingly handsome)

↝ what remains of a man by @jolapeno — 🌶️, ☄️ (AO3)

Joel Miller doesn't care. Not about Pretty Eyes. Not how she feels beside him. Not when she's under him. Not when she's hurt and she doesn't come to him. Not. At. All.

↝ just this once by @punkshort — 🌶️

After yet another argument with your dad, his buddy across the street is there to help make you feel better.

↝ trashed by @gutsby — 🌶️

You fuck Joel in his filthy double-wide.

↝ see you at three (series - ongoing) by @/almostfoxglove — 🌶️, ☄️, ☁️

When your sister starts working nights, you're stuck with afterschool pickup duty for your eight-year-old niece. You love the kid, so you don't mind. And, sure—maybe you don't mind having an excuse to check out her classmate's dad, Joel, five times a week, either.

↝ the fuck it list (series — ongoing) by @auteurdelabre — 🌶️, ☄️, ☁️

During work at your father’s construction company, you’re inspired by your sexually liberated bestie to create a F*ck-It List of sexy experiences you’ve always wanted to try. But when the list accidentally ends up in the hands of Joel Miller— your dad’s best friend, the company’s co-CEO, and your immediate supervisor—things take an unexpected turn. Initially shocked by the discovery, Joel eventually agrees to help you tackle the list, leading to sexual adventures and undeniable chemistry. However as you begin to fall for Joel the complications of your relationship come into focus, leading you both to realize that love may be one item you won’t be able to check off your list.

✎ — 𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐀

↝ visitation by @gothcsz — 🌶️

Javier visits you in prison after putting you in there.

✎ — 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒

↝ guilty as sin (series — in progress) by @ovaryacted — 🌶️, ☄️

Being the daughter of a Senator of Rome has it's pros and cons, you lived comfortably while constantly being reminded of your insubordinate position in society. However, upon meeting General Acacius, your life changes as you begin to grow fond of him. The question is, will he reciprocate your feelings, or cast you out to suffer your impending doom of unwanted courtship?

✎ — 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊

↝ golden kisses by @mrsmando — 🌶️

Newly single, Dave finds comfort in life’s simple pleasures; among other things.

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

↝ the mirage of a goodbye by @sawymredfox — ☄️

Forgiveness and healing are heavy words. They come with a price, one that may be life-changing tonight.

✎ — 𝐄𝐙𝐑𝐀 (𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓)

↝ wash & hold by @ak-vintage — 🌶️, ☁️

After discovering some unfamiliar clothes in your laundry (and losing some of your own in return), you begin exchanging messages with another resident in your apartment complex.

✎ — 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋

↝ of death and butterflies by @galway-girlatwork — ☄️

Everyone’s heard the stories of Lilith. Of how she came to be. But are the stories true? Is she really a demon or something else? She was not born of angels but created by Death himself. To walk between the land of the living and dead. But what happens when The Fates intervene and present her soulmate? Countless lives and re-incarnations have been lived and lost. Will Oberyn remember before another life slips between their fingers like sand?

✎ — 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐓 (𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒)

↝ leverage by @/ovaryacted — 🌶️

Clint kidnaps you and takes you on a crime filled cross country roadtrip where you slowly start to fall in love with him.

✎ — 𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒

↝ sounds dangerous by @almostfoxglove — ☄️

When you reply to a bizarre craigslist ad, a stranger on the other side of the country charms his way into your life.

↝ the prettiest (series — in progress) by @/almostfoxglove — 🌶️

After a restructuring at the company, Max finds himself dead—this time for good—and haunting his old duplex. Lucky for him, you move in. Now he'll do anything it takes to have you.

✎ — 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒

↝ double lovin' (+ dieter bravo) by @iamasaddie — 🌶️

You doomed yourself to spend Valentine's day alone, buried in blankets and sobbing over Bridgit Jones' love story, but a surprise visit from Lucien and his friend turns your plans to waste.

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐎

↝ cowboy like me by @chaotic-mystery — ☄️, ☁️

Dieter is terrible at accents for his new cowboy role, and an even more terrible neighbor.

✎ — 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

↝ cherry stems by @gracieheartspedro — 🌶️

Eddie rejects your advances because his friends are around. So you use them to your advantage. Piss Eddie off and maybe you'll get what you want. Maybe.

↝ eat your heart out by @eiightysixbaby — 🌶️

In which Eddie masters Valentine’s Day through the art of eating pussy.

↝ make me feel (+ gareth emerson) by @/gracieheartspedro — 🌶️

You fly out to reunite with your rockstar boyfriend Eddie Munson. After a long day, you decide to return to his bed on the tour bus, but it seems like it is already occupied by his bandmate, Gareth.

↝ the hat rule by @ghost-proofbaby — 🌶️

When eddie dresses up as a cowboy to a night out with friends, you decide to steal his hat.

likes, reblogs, and comments keep the motivation alive, so if you’re taking a look at these for the first time, please leave a kind word for these writers or just reblog, even. support your writers <3

#joel miller x reader #javier peña x reader #din djarin x reader #clint freaky tales #eddie munson x reader #marcus acacius x reader #max phillips x reader #dieter bravo x reader #oberyn martell x reader #ezra prospect #monthlyrec

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dilf-docs · 4 months ago

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He Comes Alive At Midnight (Every Night)

max phillips x younger fem!reader

summary: everyone in your office is turning into vampires. literally. the unbelievable scenario only seems to get worst when you find out the one behind it all is your ex-boss, max phillips.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, dubcon, choking, thigh riding, bit of dry humping?, oral (f. receiving), p. in v., creampie, overstimulation, rough sex, dom!max, tw: blood, blood kink, stalking themes, humilliation kink

word count: 6,005 words

side note: hi. this movie sucked ass. and yes, yet again i've watched a movie for a man (are we surprised!). it was the camp so-bad-it's-fun type of movie, but at least me and @ann-gell had a good time. also, the random matthew lillard cameo wtf- we were both in shock IJBOL but anyway, we wanted to watch this movie for a while 'til the "blood kink fic" became a joke, but then i qtd a post in twitter abt the movie,, it was divine intervention atp. please enjoy while i cook the three joel miller fanfics inside my draft soup. GUYS IF THIS FLOPS I WILL KILL U ALL THEN MYSELF

This day couldn't get any worse.

First, Evan and Tim had been bothering you all morning. Your fault? Being Amanda's best friend in the office. You had told the men to (not so) kindly fuck off, and then the big boss had called you to his office to inform you about great news: you had to help Evan and Andrew's slacker ass to finish the Phallusite presentation. Just fucking great. Also, you woke up to find the knob of your main door broken. How? No idea, but you were just tired of the day, begging for it to end. But it's just started.

And it's about to get worse.

"Hey, y/n" you raise your view, stopping your typing. It's Evan, again.

"I think I was clear this morning" you say, not bothering to keep on looking at him.

"It's not about Amanda" you chuckle, and he sighs at your reaction. "Ted wants everyone on his office"

"Is this the part where you expect me to ask?" you drop, sardonic.

"He says he's got an announcement to make" it's not hard to miss the hopeful glint on his eyes. He bends over your cubicle and whispers, "I think he's going to make me sales manager"

You don't have time to entertain the man. No one in particular (sadly, just the customers, because that's about your job), but less the man partly responsible for your new assignment. So this means you too don't have motivation at all to assist to your boss' meeting, but hey, it's your job-- not like there's an option there.

In the end, the announcement was indeed about the sales manager position that had been empty as for now. But it only takes a turn for the worst for both you and Evan.

"So, I'm proud to announce our new manager of sales, Max Phillips"

Enter him: confident strut and cocky smirk. He takes off his dark shades (who in their right mind wears sunglasses inside an office barely grazed by light?) as people clap.

It's like the world stops.

"No, no, no. Not Max" you hear Tim whisper next to you. You turn your head, eavesdropping on their conversation as Mike asks him who the hell Max is. "Max, Evan and I went to college together. It's kind of a long story"

"That wasn't long" Andrew counters. Mike agrees.

"Oh, did I mention that Max slept with Evan's girlfriend, so Evan had Max kicked out of school for cheating, so Max punched Evan in the face?" he adds.

You raise an eyebrow.

"No. You skipped all that"

"Hey, y/n. You okay?" Tim nudges you with his elbow as Max keeps talking, but your brain has reduced his voice to a loud pitched ring.

"Huh?"

"You're pale" Andrew agrees.

You scoff. "Can't a girl be pale anymore this days?"

"Well" Mike coughs. Of course. "You're not exactly-"

"What's that noise behind?" Ted catches up on your chatter.

Now you figure you've gone at least ten shades lighter. Practically a fucking ghost by now.

Especially when he sees you. Oh, his auburn carry a wicked gleam, and he's licking his lips as he locks his eyes into you, despite being glued to the corner behind the rest of your coworkers.

"Sales is... seduction" he drops the word, gaze not leaving yours. Evan seems to notice, looking over his shoulder to see it's you who Max is looking at. "And when you seduce, do you say: I have a 401k? or I floss? No. You say... I love you"

You gulp down, nervously, your throat oddly constricted.

"Why is this guy looking at you?" Tim asks. You can't find the words to answer.

He continues talking, leaving you alone, but by the way he smirked, you know this is just the beginning.

And you're back to where it started: the sunny California, your old life in LA. You had a job, friends and a boyfriend. It was nice, like an ice cream while watching the sunset. It was safe-- this was all you knew.

Enter Max.

Your friends stopped talking to you, turning into weird versions of themselves: they only seemed to know how to work, fuck, not sleep and repeat. Then, your boyfriend broke up with you: couldn't even scramble off words to form a good excuse, despite being together for four years. And then the worst of it all: him, your boss, who couldn't stop finding ways to get under your skin, your back hitting all the walls of the office, where he'd corner your shaking frame. Words always seemed to be lost when Max breathed over you, his cologne still on your clothes as you arrived home. You rejected every advance with a silent temperance, not even giving him the pleasure of a reply. So then it started: the missing clothes, the broken windows and the previously locked doors open.

Suddenly, the knob this morning doesn't feel like a simple mistake and more of a sinister coincidence, making the pit in your stomach sink further.

You had left, hoping it was all in the past. But now he's here, talking about making a million dollar in sales this month like he hadn't ruin your life.

"It's aggressive, yes" Max agrees while sitting on Ted's desk, legs sprawled open on a manspread, "but I'm confident we can hit it. And if we don't, Ted and I have already agreed... we'll be forced to kill all of you"

A cold shiver runs down your back. You don't know what Max Phillips is capable of, but you believe it.

"So you better do what he says!" encouraging, but feels like a threat.

You catch Evan stay behind, probably to talk with Ted about what the fuck just happened. You would too, but how could you explain it? That your ex-boss had found a way to sneak back into your life, slithering with a deathly venom into your new office's grounds. It is during this brief stop that something hard collides against you. Well, someone. And of course, that someone is him.

"Small world, huh?" he chuckles. Before you can even think of replying, his broad shoulders brush with yours in a swift manner as he passes by, yet it feels like a deliberate violent hit. You watch him close the door of his office, which used to be Evan's, sliding his name over the position's plaque. He could've slid a knife over your throat as well and it would've felt the same.

Weird things had happened. First, the new intern dissapeared. No one noticed, of course, but you cared about these small things. Then, Dave started acting all weird and aggressive, long gone the pathetic man who only talked about his cat and couldn't bring himself to ask back the money he was owed.

And the office got darker, because you never needed glasses, but now seemed to squint your eyes to read your computer's screen. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep: you hadn't been able to close your eyes, rather positioned yourself in watch at your door, prepared for anything to happen. So far, nothing, but you wouldn't fool yourself to let your guard down.

Now, you sit with both Andrew and Evan as you try to finish the Phallusite presentation; everyone else has gone home.

"And you can call me Ward Cleaver 'cause I just banged out June"

"Nice"

You roll your eyes at their antics.

It's Andrew's turn. "You can call me Uncle Ben because I just nailed May"

Didn't uncle Ben die?

You keep it to yourself. Then, they both look at you, expecting.

"Call me Fed-Ex, because I always deliver!"

Andrew winces. Evan sighs, giving you an awkward smile.

"There was an attempt"

"Fuck you, guys. It was good!"

"Oh, shit" Evan curses. "Zabeth only brought up the hard copies through July" he looks at Andrew, "can you run downstairs and get August?"

He's not fully convinced, but then he's gone. Evan looks at you, and you give him a weird look.

"Why do you look at me like that?"

"I'm about to do something I shouldn't" he pauses. "Don't tell anyone"

You cross your arms over your chest. "You're overestimating how much I care"

"It's about Max"

He must've sensed your change in demeanor, the mask slipping for a brief moment, because he grins in satisfaction.

"Oh, it seems I'm not the only one with shared history with Phillips, huh?"

You spin your chair around, back facing him. "I don't want to talk about that"

"We don't have to" he's quick to agree. "I just want to get rid of him" Evan makes a pause, hoping you're in. When you turn around, seems like you are, "will you help me?"

Getting rid of Max Phillips (again) sounds the closest heaven on earth.

"But you can't tell anyone else about this" you pause, "or about me and Max"

"Whatever it is" he assures, "I'm taking it to my deathbed"

You purse your lips. "I'm still not telling you"

"Oh" he barely hides his dissapointment. "Okay, yeah. Not like I was expecting it-"

You get up from your chair. "Let's go"

"Right"

That night, you both broke into his office. Inside, you recognized Amanda's folder. It contained the profiles of your coworkers. The cutting employees was real then, huh? To confirm your theory, some pictures were circled while others were crossed over with red marker: Mike was crossed, and he was gone. Curiously, neither you nor Evan had anything scribbled over. You reach the last profile on the file: Ted, your boss. Crossed.

"We have what we need. You are free to go home and get some rest" he palms the file. "Tomorrow is a big day. Max Phillips will be history, and that's all that matters"

"And the meeting"

He seems to remember. "Right, sorry"

After biding proper goodbyes, you drive home, but your mind is elsewhere as you pass empty dim-lit streets. All you can think of is Max hadn't made a decision on you yet. Worse, you didn't know if that's good or bad.

You toss around in bed, unable to find some sleep. Glancing at the clock in the nighstand, and it reads three in the morning.

This is crazy. But you still get out of bed, shower, do your make up and speed the brakes back to the office.

Maybe it was the anxiety for Max's appearence or the Phallusite deal, you ponder as you ride the elevator up, which is why you're real early to your office day. You will practice, you tell yourself, and master the presentation until the words are ingraned into your brain.

You're in the middle of a slide when a sound catches your ear. You look around: it's not even five in the morning, the sun is still down, and aside from you, there's no one else in the building.

You try to calm yourself down, blaiming an animal or the wind. But then it sounds again. You get up from your desk, shaky legs doing a small round.

"Hello?" you ask into the eerie silence, "is anyone there?"

You walk towards your desk again, ready to sit down, when there's a banging sound heard from downstairs. Now you start to realize you never saw Andrew come back.

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You gulp, harshly, and jolt back to your desk. In a rush, you grab your things, but as you zip your bag, a swoosh passes by through you. Kneeling down, you hide below your desk. And then you hear it. Steps. Menacing, paused steps. You cover your mouth, trying not to make a sound, while the other one clutches your bag so hard, your hand turns white.

The steps move away, but the exit seems so far away. You take your chances, and run to the first door you can see. Inside, you lock it as fast as you can, bag dropping to the floor when a loud banging starts on the other side. You tremble in the dark office, thinking this is it: no presentation, no getting rid of Max. No, you would pathetically die in a telemarketing office.

"Go away!" you pleadingly cry to whoever, or whatever, is on the other side. "Leave me alone, please!"

The banging stops. Just like that? You doubt your good luck. Then, how was that phrase again?

If the predator leaves the prey, is because he has become it.

You pray to God, close your eyes and accept your fate. But then the lights turn on.

"Hello, little dove"

(The nickname. He had call you that once, laughing at the way your eyes avoided his gaze, like a coward. How the hairs on your cold skin had prickled, the blood rushing to your cheeks in a delicious red Max couldn't stop thinking about. You had worn white that day: the day he decided he was going to make your life impossible)

You could be deaf and still recognize the voice. Your body gives up, falling to the floor. Your heart and yesterday's reheated lasagna you had for lunch rise up in your throat.

What a terrible sick joke.

He, the one you had escaped from before. He, who you pictured be gone as of today, now cornering you inside an office you had locked yourself, outside God knows what.

He, Max Phillips in the flesh.

"Max" you say his name like it's forbidden.

You refuse to meet him in the eye, gaze trained to the floor.

"You have to calm down, y/n. Your heart is going like crazy!" he jumps up from his chair, where he had been previously sitting, legs drapped over his desk. "Tell me, what's got you so worried?"

Taunting. Mocking. Downright cruel. Like he spat in your face.

"Hey, I'm talking to you" his voice is soft, but then his fingers dig in your arm, pulling you up with a surprising strength. You yelp as Max raises you in your feet, still refusing contact. "I'm your boss, y/n. Don't forget that. I could get your little bratty ass kicked out, so you better do as I say"

You feel his breath ghost over your face in rapid puffs. It's too quiet. His fingers press on the soft tissues of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, eliciting a cry out of you.

"And look at me when you speak"

"You" you seethe out, tongue dripping in venom.

(You, who ruined my life. Who made me leave behind everything and everyone I knew. The reason why I was scared to leave my house and meet strangers in the eye. You, Max, who despite it all, lingers in my mind. Who's under my skin, deep in the dirty marrow of my bones, in my flesh, in my veins, rushing through with the same guilty pleasure nicotine does)

"Me?" he chuckles amused, "what about me, little dove?"

"I escaped from you once" you spit. "I will do it again. But you won't ruin my life this time"

He lets out a big laugh, right in your face. It makes your blood run cold.

"You think you escaped from me? Aw, little dove. That's adorable" he chuckles darkly. "You won because I let you"

It comes crashing down with the weight of a sinking ship.

"W-what...?"

A satisfied smirk paints across his features. "That's right, y/n. Let you get away just to see your pretty face shine in satisfaction. Have I told you how I love when your eyes shine when you think you've won? I gotta say, I missed it. Seeing them closed while you sleep isn't the same" he sighs, his face now practically buried against yours, and you swear you feel his teeth graze it when Max opens his mouth to speak. "Had to have the very real thing in front of me"

The open windows and broken locs. He had been there: inside the safety of your home, the illusion now gone.

"Liar" you grit, "you sick fuck"

"Face it" his nose digs in your flushed cheek, hand still on your chin. He takes a whiff out of your smell, the vainilla making him dizzy: it's the same one he remembers. Your scent is so inviting, mixed with your fear, that it makes him lick his lips. "You're as obssesed with me as I am with you"

"I don't know what makes you think that" his head dives to your collarbones. You squirm as his wet tongue licks a sleazy trail through your neck, staying on a spot.

"Oh, but I think you do" and his mouth starts to suck on that spot until the skin cries in a purple rain. "Thought I wouldn't notice, huh? Your perfume is all over my office, baby. Can I ask, what where you doing here?"

His other hand smacks harshly against your chest. It travels up, until it gets to the valley of your tits. He slides it inside the fabric of your white button up blouse, your heartbeat bellow.

"And don't try to lie to me" he threats in a low rumble, "because I'll know when you do"

"The papers, in your desk" you manage to whisper out. "Came to see who you were firing and who was staying"

"And was it just you?"

"Y-yes" you feel his squeeze one of your tits between his fingers, the calloused digits imprinting themselves on the plush skin.

"You sure?" you yelp when he roughly grabs a breast. "Have you already forgotten what I told you, little dove, huh? Or ar my hands too... distracting"

You let out a sharp breath. "Evan was there too"

"Fucking coward" he spits. "Can't get over our little fight still. Did he tell you what happened?"

You nod.

"Good, then you're aware I'm the better thing" his hand leaves your chest, but the other one still grabs you from your chin. Your eyes close when his free hand finds its way to your neck, his big fingers wrapping around your throat. As you feel a moan ready to leave your mouth, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. There’s no way you'll give him that satisfaction. "Looking so pretty with my hand around you"

His thumb presses on your weak spot, making you gasp for air.

"I need you to be a good girl and swear on it"

You squirm under his weight pressed on you, but it's futile.

"I swear on my life that I'll be a good girl" your lungs burn when you say it.

His grip on your throat tightens. "Say that again"

You gulp with difficulty. "I swear"

He slams your body against the wall. "Say it!"

"I swear!" you cry out, "I swear!"

"Good" he chuckles darkly. "Because this time, I'll make sure of it"

He finally cuts the distance, trapping your lips in his. He's pulling you closer by your waist, your name dropping from his mouth in a sultry sickeningly sweet voice.

"You know you can touch if you want, right?" he taunts, seeing how you ball your fists to the sides. "I'm all yours"

Your brain begs you to keep fighting, but you're stuck in the way his mouth feels in yours: invasive, like the way he'd stalk you, violating every bit of privacy, destroying every sense of safety you had. Now, he's eating you out, tongue in your insides as he chases your touch, his hand taunting your back with fleeting touches, up and down in your back, waiting for the moment you cave in.

A breathy moan pushes past your lips.

"Max" falls past your treacherous mouth, body dizzy and confused with pleasure.

You drap your leg over his hip, the pencil skirt riding up your thighs, as he puts his hand below to support it. With your fingers, you grab his short hair.

"That's right, little dove" he humms in approval. "Surrender yourself to me"

His thigh parts a space between your legs, thick muscle now grinding against your warmth.

"Please" you whimper at the friction.

He chuckles at that, eyes darkening.

"You sound so pretty when you beg"

You mewl at the praise, rolling your hips back and forth on his thigh. The pressure on your folds burns like a candle: a warm burn, intense yet gentle. Max moves his knee slowly, trying to even your desperate movements. The air burns yet again in your lungs, and only then you allow yourself to kiss him.

He's quick to reciprocate, his palm cupping your cheek, the size so big, it practically covers all of your face. He swallows your moans in the heat of the kiss, and you only pull back when you need to breath.

Max then takes the chance to get to your neck again, sucking on the skin hungrily, especially on that one spot he had licked before. At the same time, his hard cock runs against your clothed pussy, his hips meeting where you rub yourself each time.

You roll your head to the side, reduced to a whimpering mess.

He tears open your blouse, buttons flying as he takes the opportunity to dip his head in your collarbones, nipping at the skin as he gets rid of it completely.

"Oh, little dove" he touches your waist as your hands grip at his back. "You're so beautiful, my sweet temptress. Lurking around, ever since California, couldn't stop thinking about you. Needed to have you, all for me"

He slides the lace of your bra in a harsh tug, almost ripping the lingerine. Now, your breasts are fully exposed, and the nipples perk with the cold hitting them. With one swift move, he picks you up and throws you into his desk, the papers flying everywhere. Max is back at the task of kissing your neck, like he's fascinated by it.

"Enough of the games, eh" he mocks your fucked-out state. "Gonna give you the real goods, yes? So you'll see why both Evan's college ex girlfriend and Amanda prefer me"

Once your skirt is rode up, he grinds his exposed cock against your pussy, your dripping wet folds receiving the change―the contact without layers anymore―in a welcoming fluttering clench at nothing.

"So wet for me" Max rasps, leaving hickeys down your neck until he can finally kiss your collarbones. He's then sucking on your skin, his teeth brushing against your skin. "Can you feel that?" you squirm, "that's how much I want you, y/n. Need to take a bite of you"

He can feel your pulse quicken, the smell of your arousal deepening as his teeth scrape against your skin.

"Bite?" you ask, despite the way your head is dizzy. "Why?"

"Use that pretty head of yours, little dove" he mocks, "and think: why is everyone in this office acting weird now? There's your answer"

"I-I don't get it" you whine.

His eyes darken, and you swear his teeth get pointer.

"Don't worry. You soon will"

The first time his teeth sink, your head stops working. Your ears ring, and there's this burning sensation that comes in waves, washing over you until all you feel is nothing. Numb. The room spins, skin tingling like crazy. You moan and tangle your fingers in his hair as he harshly sucks and then he releases it again to bite into your flesh. The bite goes deep, fangs piercing your skin, electric pleasure courses through you, forcing you to yelp because you weren’t ready for it.

"Just a taste, baby" he groans. "Just a little taste"

But then slurping sounds bounce off the walls, and you begin to see dark spots in your vision. Max moans, sounds drowned in the crook of your neck as he takes another bite, cock throbbing in his pristine pants.

"Fuck, y/n. You do know how to satisfy a man's hunger"

He traps your mouth with his, tongue pushing past your lips. You can feel the metallic taste of your own blood as he keeps grinding against you.

"M-Max" you squirm under his insistent grinding and abuse of your skin. He just chuckles, rubbing his fingers over your clothed pussy. You grip his arm for support, your nails sinking on his bicep. He hisses at the sting, but by the way he's smiling, that's the least of his worries.

"You're soaked, little dove. Don't tell me you're getting off at my teeth in your skin?" he raps, "on me feeding from you"

Max places a hand on your pussy, making you gasp and squirm.

"Don't worry, fun's just getting started"

You bite your lip so hard, blood pours out. You swear, even in your hazy vision, that he licks his lips. Then, with a wet lazy trace of his tongue, he licks it off your lips. He gawks at your face, hungrily so.

You look ruined, and he had just taken one small bite.

His eyes fall to your free breasts. Max can hear the sound of the pump of your veins, the rush addictive. He leans down with a smile, tongue darting across your sensible tits. Your boss can't help it when his teeth sink again in your skin, ichor pouring out in a lustful trail he's quick to lick off. You claw at his back, begging him to stop, but he's got you at his mercy, pinned under him, his bites now deeper as he growls at the sweet nectar maroon taste of you. He lets go, releasing your bruised flesh from his hungry greedy mouth.

"Fuck" he mutters, running a hand through his now disheveled hair. "If I don't stop now, I'll be at it for hours; whole office will come back and find you over my desk, begging and moaning. But we don't want to put on a show, do we?"

Yet his hand slips between your legs, fingers pushing your panties to the side. All you can do is squirm, wimpering as he's tracing your pussy, coating his digits with your slick.

"Tell me, little dove. Is your blood as sweet as this pussy?" Max sucks his fingers, an obscene slurping sound coming out of his mouth. The taste of your sweet ichor and your arousal... it's too much, even for a man as experienced as him. "Use your words to tell me how this feels"

His fingers part your folds, touching your clit. You blabber nonsense, and Max darkly laughs at how easy it was to have you under him, moaning and squirming because of his mouth and touch.

"Talk to me" he lulls, caressing your cheek. "Where did that loud mouthed brat go, huh? Or all it took was my fingers inside this pretty pussy for you to be an obedient good girl?"

That's what makes it hotter, he thinks. That you, who ran away from him, but now are so wet and sensitive, like you hadn't defied him in the past and ignored all his efforts to woo you.

"N-no" you stutter, eyes squeezed shut.

"No, what?" Max mocks. Then, snaps his fingers in your face. "Hey, look at me" he grabs your chin roughly. "You look at me when I fuck you, understood?"

When you open your eyes, a few tears spill out, the pleasure deeply rooted in the pain.

"Good girl" he praises, then licks the side of your face where the salty drops have fallen.

He drops on his knees, hand cupping all of your knee as his mouth leaves wet sloppy kisses on your thighs, up to your core. You writhe, twisting your fists at your sides until they turn white.

"Let me reward you properly" he adds under his breath, but before you can ask what he means, Max's fangs bare in your inner thigh, making you scream his name. He then sucks on the bite. He releases your thigh until he's done, moaning deeply.

"So good" he groans against your warm skin, your blood on his mouth acting like a lipstick of some sorts, red imprints of his mouth up your inner thigh. "Now, let's get to the point, shall we? It's almost time" the sun rising in the back a reminder of the running clock.

First, he pulls your skirt off. Then, he hooks his fingers in your panties and rips them off. Without loosing time, Max's hungry form is quick to bury his mouth in your pussy, your blood and your slick mixing in a combination that strains his pants.

He puts your legs over his shoulders, keeping you parted for his hungry mouth. His tongue laps at your entrance, doing circling minstrations around your clit, his moans of pleasure sending vibrations that make your walls flutter and pussy clench.

"My little dove" he coos, tongue poking his sharp fangs. Max's chin is dripping with your slick, and he licks off some of it. "Can't get enough of you"

You roll your head to the side arching your back.

"P-please" you beg, "don't stop"

He squeezes your thigh, red droplets of blood oozing out of your punctured skin. Max sucks hard, strong fingers keeping you hostage and cock growing in desperation as your legs tremble. He lets out a deep growl, slipping his fangs out of your flesh. You whimper when he kisses your pussy with a soft press of his lips.

"I won't. Not when you're being such a good girl"

With a desperate quick motion, he gets rid of his belt and pulls out of his pants, moving closer to your cunt with his heavy cock grazing on your bare cunt. He spanks your clit with it, making you mewl at the lingering sting.

"Will you keep being a good little docile bird for me, dove? I will give it to you if you behave"

"Please, please, please" you beg, long gone in the pain of your pussy clenching at nothing, the need to have him inside of you blurring the world around of you. "I was a good girl, let me have it"

Whatever he's done to you, you're too far gone in your fucked-out brain to make sense of this: your boss, bending you over his desk, fucking you and kissing you like you weren't disgusted by his invasive antics, like he hadn't just sucked your blood with fangs you'd never seen before.

A fucking vampire, as real as the way he's handling your body which is closer to ecstasy than ever.

"Then do" Max growls, pushing inside.

You let out a sharp breath, eyes closing shut as your toes curl inside your heels.

"That's right, baby, take all of me" he rasps, grinding his teeth. "I know your tight little pussy can"

He starts to move, and you feel so full of him, you can barely breath. You mewl, arching your back with each thrust, your body spasming and wet down your legs. Max hums satisfied, looking at you.

"Fucking work of art" his voice drips with adoration out loud.

But how can he contain himself? If you look so perfect, all spread out and claimed by him. Breasts covered in his bite marks, thighs still red from all the bloody kisses he left on your skin and neck marked by him.

"You're mine, get it? Gonna ruin this perfect pussy for any other man, little dove. You belong to me"

Desperate moans fill the room as his pace picks up, fast, as your body consumes him whole. The way your warmth wraps his cock, your fluttering walls, the taste of your arousal, and your sweet blood makes him feel like the most powerful man in the world as he pounds into your tight walls.

"Mine. Mine, all mine" he repeats. "Don't fucking forget that"

He angles his cock deep into you, grinding his pubic bone against your clit as his girth pumps up and down. He can feel his throbbing cock pulse inside of your sticky folds at the sight of you: so far gone, so ruined. Can't believe this is the same girl who claimed to hate him.

Every little sound, every sharp breath and wet slpa of skin against skin is for him. Your nails clawing at his back and arms, the way your head and eyes fall back... how you say his name... Who is crazier, him or you?

"Max..." you exhale, barely able to control your body. "I think I'm-"

"I know, little dove" he taunts. "I think I can tell when I make a girl feel good"

His face goes again to hide in the crook of your neck, hot ragged breath warming the spot.

"Be a little obedient bird and come for me"

A sharp sting makes you scream as you come undone, body convulsing and pussy clenching around him, massaging his girth, coaxing out every last drop of his release at the same time Max's sucking blood out of your neck.

"Sorry, my sweetest y/n. I can't hold back when your sweet scent is taunting me like this" his voice croaks, rough with a primal desire, all consuming. "Had to hold back since the very first day you stepped into the Cali office, with your tight little slutty skirts and open blouse, giving me a delicious peak of your breasts..."

His head falls back with a tight growl, voice strained with the effort of not cumming on the spot.

"Fuck, y/n, I fucking love this perfect little cunt. So fucking soft and hot and tight, gripping my cock like it never wants to let it go"

His hips don't falter, every ridge and vein of his thick length dragging along your fluttering walls, your pussy seemingly molding itself to his shape. He was right: it was like your body was made for his, like you had been created just to take his cock and milk it for all it was worth.

He could feel it already, his thick cum starting to seep out around his shaft, leaking out of her stuffed hole. Max had marked you, claimed you, in the most primal way possible.

And in a few hours, it was just about to get better.

"You're mine now, little dove" he growls, voice low and possessive as he rolls his hips, grinding against your oversensitive clit, making you gasp and shudder beneath him. "This cunt belongs to me now, you hear me? No one else gets to touch it, gets to fucking have it" he lets out a dark chuckle, "or I'll kill them"

The dark shadow over his eyes tells you he isn't joking at all.

His cock throbbs inside of you, swelling even thicker. He grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he fought to hold back, to make this moment last.

Your eyes are dangerously close to shutting off, the overestimulation reducing you to a panting and blabbering mess.

"No, y/n. You look at me" he commands, voice in a low, dominant bark. "You fucking look at me when I cum, little dove, so you see how good you make me feel as I paint your tight little walls white"

And then, with a loud roar, he brutally slams into you with a final thrust, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pumps thick, hot ropes of cum out of him, filling you up until he could see your belly swell slightly with the sheer volume of his release.

He throws his head back, pointy teeth sinking into his lips to muffle screams as he rutts in you, grinding against your cervix, making sure every last drop of his seed was pumped deep into your womb. His body shudders with the power of his climax, and soon, your boss' body is collapsing over yours.

"Fuck" he pants, looking at how the marks had started to heal. The one on your neck, thought... It's coloring just right. Soon, you'll be by his side. Forever. "I guess that sums another point for me"

He looks up his window, seeing right Evan on the other side, panting in shock.

"And zero for you"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif (unknown pinterest source)

179 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 5 months ago

Text

Beauty and the Bloodsucker {Max Phillips x F!Reader}

Ratings: Explicit

Word Count: 11.6k

Warnings: Beauty and Beast AU, magical enchantments, imprisonment(?), quasi hostage, Stockholm syndrome-ish, magical timelines, seduction, blood drinking (Max is a vampire beast), oral sex (female receiving), loss of virginity, beastly sex, heartbreak, depression, fear/anger, castle attack, pillaging, threats of death, gunshot, blood, breaking the spell, arrogant/playful Max, happily ever after

Comments: Just an excuse to have Max be the Beast!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Max Phillips MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“We should go back.” You whisper, dragging your cloak closer around your body as the wind whips through the bare branches of the trees and seems to speak. The voices are almost incoherent but it makes the dread pool in your stomach. “We cannot.” The shadows play off the light from the small torch in your brother’s hand as he turns back towards you, a heavy frown on his face. “The rent is due and if we do not pay, we will be tossed out on the street.” The landlord that owned the little cottage you live in had decided to raise your rent when you declined to marry him. He is vengeful and yet you know that no one in the small town you live in would help you. Everyone is terrified of him. “This place is massive. And deserted.” Your brother had come home yesterday, claiming he had discovered a way to raise the money for your increased rent. The washing you had taken in was no longer enough. “We will simply find a few things to sell here.”

You hear chatter coming from the shadows and you shiver again, “please. Let’s go.” You beg your brother who spins on his heel, “would you shut the fu-” His insult dies as his eyes flicker to something over your shoulder. “That’s not the way you speak to a lady.” The beast tuts, his wings spanned out behind him and his fangs glistening in the moonlight.

You spin around and gasp, the scream dying in your throat with the way your brother grabs you. “Run. Get out of here!” Your brother screams and the beast scoffs, “she’s not going anywhere. Neither of you are. You stole from me. You dared to steal more from my castle. I should kill you.” Max chuckles darkly, “I am bored…I think I’ll kill you.” He decides but you step forward, “don’t kill us. Surely there’s some agreement we can come to.” You plead, eyes wide as you take in the beast.

“Hmmm,” Max hums, “an agreement. I think - a trade. You have taken from me after all.” You choke, “we don’t have anything. Our landlord has taken it all. We don’t own anything unless…unless you take me.” You offer, knowing you are condemning yourself to death but your brother is stronger. He can come back to save you. The beast stares at you, his dark eyes taking you in, and he sighs. He hasn’t had a companion for many years. Not since the last one died of natural causes. “Very well.” He decides, knowing that he would enjoy the company for a while, “how much gold for your sister?” The beast asks and you stand straight despite your hands shaking at the idea of remaining in the cold, damp castle.

“You cannot-“ your brother hisses and you shake your head. “He will kill us.” You remind him, not taking your eyes off the beast. His face almost looks human but there are heavy bones in the face, his eyes yellow and the glint of his fangs in the dim moonlight make your heart race. You take a shuddering breath. “Thirty pieces.” You decide, making your brother’s eyes widen. “You can live a comfortable life.” You finally turn towards him and take his cold hands in your own. “Marry. Perhaps our landlord will lower the rent when he learns I have, um, left.”

Your brother shakes his head, “no. No. I will not leave you here with a monster.” Max growls at that, the sound echoing off the wall, and you shudder in fear but try to stay strong. “Please. Let him go.” You beg to the monster who tilts his head, almost like he’s appraising you. “Very well. Thirty coins.” Max snaps his fingers, nails long and yellow, to the shadows and your brother shakes his head, “you cannot do this. He will kill you.” Your brother pleads but you reach for him to hug him. You don’t get to as a bag of coins is thrown on the floor and an arm wraps around your waist. You scream and your brother reaches for you but it’s too late.

By the time you blink, you’re in a bedroom and the door is locked behind you. “You bastard! You didn’t let me say goodbye!” You shout, rushing over to bang your fists on the door. “You didn’t let me say goodbye.” You choke, tears in your eyes as the realization hits you. You have been sold to a monster.

Max stands outside the door, listening to your cries and curses. Something deep inside him stirs, his long talons hovering above the doorknob for a moment before he pulls his hand away. The deal had been struck and you had made it willingly. He strides away, his wings flapping slightly as he goes to find his housekeeper. A new tenant has arrived and she must be made aware.

You sniff as there’s a knock on the door, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, and you stumble to stand up just as the door is unlocked. An older woman walks in, a warm smile on her face that puts you immediately at ease. “Hello dearie. Max told me we have a new guest. I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Mrs. Smith and I am the housekeeper. We want to make sure you are comfortable. What foods do you like?” She asks, trailing her eyes along your figure, “and we will arrange for new clothes and you may change the bedroom however you wish.” She promises and you swallow harshly, “I - I- Max? Is that the beast’s name?” You ask, a frown on your face.

“Maxwell Phillips.” She informs you, “his family have owned this castle for centuries.” She smiles, “now, let me fetch you some tea. You may roam anywhere in the castle but stay away from the left wing.” She warns and you nod, curious but too emotional to move from the safety of the bedroom. “Thank you.” You murmur, your throat hoarse.

You are a pretty thing, and Max likes pretty. She hums to herself as she walks down the hall, thinking about the years that have passed with her and the rest of the staff remaining the same age since the curse was cast and how many companions have been here over those centuries. It’s been a lonely existence and she sighs when she hears Francis and Corbin arguing down the hall. There is not a day that goes by that those two do not squawk at each other and if it weren’t for the fact that none of them technically could die, she would murder them herself. “Stop it!” She hisses, glaring at them when she rounds the corner and finds the tall and lanky man about the tussle with the short, portly one. “You would think after one hundred years you would find a way to get along!” She chides them. “We have a guest and I will not have you stressing her. Poor thing looks frightened.”

“Do you think she could be the one? To break the curse?” Francis asks, his eyes wide and excited. The servants in the castle have been frozen, not aging for centuries, and it’s lonely when they only have each other and cannot form other bonds.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Corbin scoffs, “she will be like the rest. You know he gets wearisome and agitated by them after a while. They all end up-” He drags his finger across his throat. “Can we see her? Is she pretty? If she’s beautiful she may be the one.” Francis says with hope but Mrs. Smith shakes her head, “leave her be for now. She must settle in. She has many lonely days ahead of her. You know Maxwell takes days to come down from his beastly form.”

The men nod and Francis sighs, “let us prepare dinner for her. Surely if we treat her well, she will want to stay.” Corbin rolls his eyes, “perfect plan. Here’s a feast. Please stay and fall in love with our master so his curse is broken and we can finally live a normal life.” Francis scoffs, “you know nothing. The way to a heart is through the stomach. She will love us and in turn, love him.” The men continue to bicker while Mrs. Smith makes her way to the kitchen to check on the cook who is preparing supper for everyone. You sigh, eyes sore from sobs as you stare out the window to the vast forest, unaware that Max is doing the same thing across the castle.

Max turns away from the window, looking at the glass covered blood red rose, sparkling with the enchantment and the old crone’s words haunt him. The petals had begun to wilt and he knows that he will fail. He will be doomed to wear his grotesque monster form for eternity once the last petal falls. “She will not have anything to do with me.” He growls, hating himself for finding her so beautiful. Her smell is intoxicating and he wishes to drink from her. He flaps his wings and from the broken window of his chambers, he flies off into the night in search of an animal to drain of their lifeblood.

You look up when there’s a knock on the door and you see Mrs. Smith pushing a cart full of food. “Wow. I - this is all for me?” You ask and she nods, “I can’t - this is too much. I am happy with bread and some soup.” You promise and she tuts, “don’t be silly dearie. You must eat.” She insists and you stand up, making your way over to the cart and you inhale the smell of chicken and potatoes. “Thank you.” You murmur and she nods, “settle in. Tomorrow, we will give you a tour of the estate.”

Mrs. Smith walks towards the door and looks back to find you piling a plate high with the chicken. She wonders if it has been quite a while since you’ve had a hearty, proper meal. The staff will love spoiling you if you turn out to be as sweet as you seem to be.

The food is plentiful and you feel stuffed after you finish eating. Back home, you’d be lucky to have meat for dinner unless your brother spent the day hunting. You stare out the window and you wonder what your future holds. You haven’t seen the beast yet. You wonder if he will show.

****

Max flies high above the ground, watching the world as it passes under him with great flaps of his wings. Flying is probably his only escape from the reality of his existence. Your blood is already calling to him and he cannot attack you, not when you are so beautiful and scared of him. Glancing down, he spots a deer and growls, his fangs popping out and he swoops down to capture his meal.

You finish your meal and Mrs. Smith returns to take it away and says you will meet the seamstress tomorrow for new clothes and you shake your head, “I don’t need - I have clothes.” You explain, and Mrs. Smith raises her eyebrows, “you have nothing with you, dear. We will supply you with what you need.” She promises, “Mr. Phillips supplies us with everything we need.” She promises and you sigh, “it’s nice to put a name to the monstrous face.”

“He was not always so monstrous.” She tuts as she cleans up the plates and stacks everything on the trolly to roll it out of your room. “There was once a time when Mr. Phillips was considered the most handsome man in the lands. Unfortunately, he was also very vain as well.” She sighs. “His existence is one that haunts him now.”

You scoff, “he may have been handsome but inside he’s a monster. Buying me from my brother…I do not know his purpose and I never wish to find out.” You promise and she nods, sighing softly, “very well. Get some rest. Tomorrow, your new life begins.” She says and strides out of your room. You shake your head, “I won’t be staying here.” You murmur to yourself when she’s gone. You refuse to let that monster keep you prisoner. After a few hours pass, you grab your cape and wrap it around yourself, opening the bedroom door and sneaking into the hallway. The halls are empty and quiet and you tiptoe through the castle, finding a door to escape. You hear voices down the hall, “she will come around. He must have her fall for him. It’s our last chance.” You frown at that and wait until the footsteps disappear and you escape through the door, making your way into the gardens. You exhale shakily, the moon lighting your way as you run through the hedges until you’re in the forest. It’s dark and your heart pounds in your chest as you struggle to find your way. You hear a howl and start to run, your cape flowing behind you and you keep glancing over your shoulder. You miss the tree roots across the ground and cry out as you fall forward, twisting your ankle and you hear leaves crunch before a figure looms over you. You scream, terrified as the monster is above you.

Max growls, furious that you are trying to escape, but he doesn’t strike you. Instead he reaches down, ignoring your scream as he gathers you up in his arms. His wings push the two of you off the ground and he shoots up into the sky. “Foolish girl.” He hisses as he flies up over the treetops with you in his grasp. “Do you know what roams these woods? Beside me?”

Your next scream echoes but is lost to the sky as he carries you back to the castle. You cling to him, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to not look down. You stumble when he sets you down in the gardens and you scramble away from him, his wings spread out and blocking the moon from your gaze. “You’re - you just - oh my-” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you collapse from the shock of flying and the reality that you’re trapped here in this castle.

Max rolls his eyes and sighs as he looks down at you. Realizing that he can’t leave you on the cold hard ground. His wings fold against his back and he reaches down to pick you up again, opting to carry you without flying back to your room. The servants gawk at him as he trudges through the halls with your body limp in his arms, ignoring the whispers as he carries you to the bed and lays you down far more gently than you deserve. “Now stay.” He commands, unable to resist caressing your cheek before turning away and closing the door behind him.

When you wake up, it’s daylight and you inhale sharply as the events of last night come back to you. He flies. He flew with you in his arms. The thought makes you sick and you sit up, trying to inhale deeply to control yourself. You are terrified of the man you’ve been sold to but you can’t leave. It’s clear he will find you and there’s no way you can survive in the woods alone. You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You need him to let you go. There’s a knock on your door and you stand, watching Mrs. Smith roll in a tray full of fruits and breads. It’s more food than you have had in months. “Thank you.” You murmur and she nods, turning to leave, “the master wants to speak with you after you finish breakfast and we will find you a dress to wear until your new ones are finished.” She announces and you nod, knowing this could be the chance to convince him to let you go.

“You must woo her.” Andrew advises, having been Max’s valet for many years, making Max snort as he paces. “With this face?” He sneers, his fangs hanging over the edge of his lips and his face unable to shift out of his monstrous form. “I am a beast.” He growls, once again struck by the irony. All of his staff are still human looking, only he took the true form of a vampire and it has been his damnation. No one could see past his anger and his ugly countenance to see the witty humor or sharp sarcasm he possesses. It was a shame really, because he finds himself hilarious.

You follow Mrs. Smith through the halls until you enter a room and you gasp as you look around. It’s a huge library with books scattered everywhere and it seems to go on forever. “Wow.” You murmur, glancing around the room until you hear his voice, “I take it you like to read?” He asks and you nod, “very much so. It’s - wow. You must have hundreds of books in here.” You exclaim and he chuckles, “try thousands.” You shake your head, “it would take forever to read every book in here.” Max chuckles, “well, it’s a good thing I have forever.” You frown, taking in his image in the daylight. The heavy brow and yellow eyes are scary but the wings are tucked behind him and he looks almost human. “Why did you bring me back here?” You demand to know why he didn’t let you run.

He doesn’t frown, but he tilts his head, as if you are an odd curiosity. “You agreed to stay with me.” He reminds you. “For the thirty pieces of gold I gave your brother. You agreed.” He stresses before he gestures towards the library. “You don’t like your new home? You need more books? More dresses?” He asks, wondering what would make you happy here.

“I agreed because my brother needed to survive. We were struggling. Could barely find enough coin to eat and our landlord put our rent up after I declined his proposal. I - I wanted to sacrifice myself for my brother. He deserves a chance and I never - I was not going to marry a villager. They don’t like women who read. Women who think for themselves. I didn’t want to be a housewife collecting the eggs from the chickens and carrying a baby.” You shake your head, “I want to know why you didn’t let me risk my life in the woods. Why did you pay my brother for me?” You deflect his questions about the books and the dresses.

“I protect what is mine.” Max’s fangs flash in the light and he almost growls that protectively. You tense up and he senses that he might have been too intense so he relaxes and shrugs his wings. “I paid because you were honest about stealing from me.” He snorts. “Have to hand it to you, not many people tell the truth. They lie to save their necks.” He sighs. “Gold doesn’t mean anything to me. I would have paid whatever you demanded.”

You accept his answer. He has no reason to lie. Not when he has you in his home. “I had no motivation to lie to you. Not when you could’ve killed us.” You tilt your head, wondering what he looked like as a human. “So what is it you want from me?” You ask and he sighs, “I want you to get to know me. Not the beast. Me.” He confesses and you frown, “that’s all? You don’t want anything physical? Most men would want…more.”

“If you were offering, I wouldn’t say no.” Max snorts. “You are a gorgeous creature that deserves to be worshiped, but I don’t think that you would want my touch.” He knows how you view him. You’ve screamed and fainted enough to give him that clue. “I am not that kind of monster. I could coerce you into my bed with a simple look, but that is not what I want. So, I would like you to just spend time with me. Talk with me.”

You stare at him, wondering for a moment if he’s tricking you and you wonder what he means about a single look but you nod, “very well. I can talk to you.” You assure him even if he terrifies you. Human men would’ve taken advantage by now so you feel a little more comfortable that he isn’t going to harm you. “Good. Let’s, uh, talk.” He says awkwardly, clearly not having anticipated your conversation lasting this long. You walk over to the bookshelf, caressing the spines of several books, “why do you have so many books?”

“I like to read.” He snorts, as if it should be obvious. “I enjoy learning about different places, different things.”

You turn to look at him, “they aren’t organized.” You observe and he shrugs again, “I get lazy about putting them back.” You shake your head, “an unorganized library is like an unorganized mind. You’ll never find anything. You must ensure the books are in the right place.” You tell him, “you have to take care of things otherwise you’ll lose them to time.”

He smirks but on his face looks more wicked than anything. “Then why don’t you organize it for me?” He asks, making your eyes blow wide in surprise. “What?” You shake your head but he nods. “It’s perfect. You can see what books I have and then add any that you see that I am missing to the collection.”

You huff, looking around at the ridiculous amount of books that are in random piles, “it will take forever.” You whine slightly even though you like the idea. Max chuckles, “we have forever, sweetheart.” You tilt your head at his wording but nod, “I wouldn’t mind spending my days in here.” You confess, “and seeing as I’m not going anywhere, I’ll accept the task.”

“Perfect!” He claps his hands together, his talons clinking together and he grins again. “It will be good to have it cleaned up. The servant can help too.” He wrinkles his nose when he notices how dusty everything is. “Just because I’m a beast doesn’t mean we have to live like it, right? Or you live, I don’t breathe.” He jokes.

“You don’t - you don’t breathe?” You ask and he nods, “what exactly are you?” You inquire, curious as you step away from the book shelf towards him. He flashes his fangs, “I’m a vampire.” You inhale sharply, knowing he could kill you without you even knowing it. “I didn’t know - how did you become-” You gesture to his form, “this?”

He growls slightly, the grin slipping down into a frown. “It was a dark, stormy night.” He tells you dramatically. “An old witch knocked on the door and asked to come inside. I refused her and she attacked me, biting my neck and cursing me.” He explains. “When I changed, she told me that I would stay like this until….” He breaks off and looks towards the west wing of the house. “Until I had learned my lesson.” He finished lamely, not wanting you to pity him or pretend to love him. It wouldn’t work.

Your eyes widen at the story, “and what lesson are you supposed to learn?” You inquire and he snarls slightly, “it doesn’t matter.” You nod and reach for a book to occupy your hands, “so how long have you been like this?” You want to know his story, it will help you understand why you’re a prisoner in his castle.

“One the eve of the new year, it will have been one hundred years since I have taken a breath.” Max tells you, thinking about the rose upstairs. He knows that he is running out of time, but he hopes that you will be the one to break the curse. The staff is already whispering about it in the hallways, as if he couldn’t hear them.

“One hundred - oh my goodness.” You gasp, shocked that the beast in front of you is over a century old. “And the staff?” You ask and he nods, “they are frozen in time with me.” You are struggling to process this. So much has happened within the past day so your mind whirls until he steps back, “I know I’m a monster but I would like you to enjoy living in my home.” He says and you nod, “it appears this is my new home. It’s beautiful. I am struggling to realize that you are - wow. I am sorry that this happened to you.”

He softens at your kindness and if he could, he would be blushing. “Would you like to order some tea while we get started?” He asks. He won’t drink anything, but you might like something. Mrs. Smith had told him that you had been scarfing down the food like you weren’t used to proper meals. He wants you to be comfortable and happy here with him. “And some sweets?”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “Mr. Phillips, are you trying to bribe me?” You ask and he stammers, “well no. I am trying to be a good host and I-” You giggle as he loses his confidence for a moment and you pick up a book, “I’m joking. I would love some tea and sweets. I must confess that my brother and I haven’t been blessed with ample food.” You admit and Max walks over to ring the bell, “you’ll have whatever you want here.” His words make your stomach twist and you nod, inspecting the book, “thank you.”

The silence settles between the two of you and Max feels almost shy. It’s been a long time since anyone has just been in the same room as him, besides the servants. They were used to his gruesome visage but it seems that you either pretend he is not there or feel more comfortable as you start to sort books into growing piles.

****

Weeks later, Max lounges on a chair, watching you as you take a sip of your customary tea. Since that first visit to the library, every time you are here, there is a pot of tea waiting and some small treat for you to nibble on. You have grown even more beautiful, flourishing with proper meals and rest. Your eyes are fixed on the page of the book and he leans forward when you start to read to him again.

You have softened towards Max in the past few weeks. He has let you have your space and you have spent your days organizing his library. You have come to know him more, listening to his comments on different books and his jokes that made you giggle even if you rolled your eyes. He may look like a monster but you have come to know him as the man he was. “So you weren’t married before your change?” You ask as you sip your tea and he snorts, “I was an asshole. I was vain, cocky, and I couldn’t conceive considering someone else’s happiness.” He confesses and you set your tea cup down, “well, now you consider my happiness by making sure I have enough sweets to rot my teeth.” You tease, picking up the small cake.

He chuckles. “Call it envy.” He hums. “I cannot eat sweets anymore and I used to love them.” He recalls fondly. “So watching you enjoy them is the next best thing.” He doesn’t add that your blood smells sweeter and is intoxicating to him. He doesn’t want to scare you when you are starting to become more at ease with him.

You offer him a sweet smile, knowing that he’s telling the truth. He may look beastly but he’s funny and very smart. You’ve spent days discussing literature and he doesn’t dismiss your opinions as “frivolous thoughts of a silly woman” but he listens intently and has a discussion with you. “I was thinking about taking a walk around the gardens.” Max says after you finish the cake. “Would you like to join me? I can show you the roses that the gardener prides himself on.” He says and you nod, “I’d love that.”

He’s both surprised and delighted that you will talk with him. Despite the rumors that vampires are allergic to the sun, he has no problem walking around during the day. He stands and offers you his arm as you brush any crumbs carefully off your lap. “Shall we?”

You take his arm and his form doesn’t scare you like it did before. You know he’s not going to kill you but he could with a flick of his wrist. You always thought vampire myths detailed them keeping their human form but Max is different. He can walk in the sun. You make your way outside and you breathe in the fresh air. “Your gardens are beautiful. It’s a shame people cannot come and see them.”

Max sighs. “If the people knew what I am, they would kill me.” He looks around and sees the flowers blooming in the freshly fallen snow. It’s a rarity, but the gardener had perfected the art of growing flowers in the winter. One hundred years of practice makes perfect. You shiver slightly, not wearing a wrap and Max unfolds one wing to wrap around your shoulders. “I should have insisted on you wearing a coat.” He chides himself. “I don’t feel the cold.”

You know you should be terrified of him but you can’t find it in you. Not when he’s shown you nothing but kindness since that first night. You live in luxury, getting to read books and paint instead of breaking your back doing laundry for the townsfolk. “I’m okay.” You promise and lean closer to him. “It’s too beautiful to go back inside and get a coat.” You insist and grip his arm a little tighter.

He preens slightly, his back straightening and his other wing ruffles slightly. Proudly puffing his chest out as he continues to take you around the garden. Explaining what the gardener had done and how he had managed to keep flowers growing all year long. “Since I am so ugly now, I love having beautiful things around me. Flowers, women.” He teases, winking at you when you look up at him.

You playfully roll your eyes even though your stomach clenches. He may look grotesque but he isn’t as bad as he looks. He can be sweet even if he can be harsh at times. His sarcasm makes you snort and his jokes make you laugh. “I haven’t seen any other women that aren’t servants.” You hum and he says softly, “because I only want the most beautiful woman in the world in my home.” You look at him at that moment, his yellow eyes sincere and your heart flutters. You’re silent but leaning closer, driven by the emotional tidal wave inside you. “Master Phillips. Master Phillips.” Corbin calls out and you immediately move back from Max, turning to the older portly man as he rushes over to Max.

****

You return to your room and spend your time reading until Mrs. Smith and Mrs Delacroix enter your rooms. “Miss. We must dress you. The master has requested your presence at a ball.” Mrs. Smith grins and your eyes widen, “a ball? Is anyone else invited?” Mrs. Smith shakes her head and you swallow, “just us. Wow. I don’t have anything to wear.” You admit and Mrs. Delacroix smirks, “oh don’t worry, mademoiselle, I have the perfect dress for you.” The two older women grin and you nod, nervous for a dance with Max. You are dressed and soon making your way to the ballroom, your heart pounding and you enter the landing for the large staircase that leads down to the ballroom dance floor.

Max is standing in the middle of the ballroom floor, resplendent in a suit that was custom made to fit around his wings. He had scrubbed and slicked his hair back, shined his fangs until they gleamed and tried to trim his talons but they had just grown back. In his hand, he holds one yellow rose, to match the gown that Mrs. Delacroix had fitted to your gorgeous body. He swears his heart would start beating when you appear and give him a shy smile as you descend the steps and he moves forward to meet you. “You are the angel to my devil.” He murmurs softly, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

He looks so handsome, his yellow eyes taking in your gown and you smile, “thank you. You are the devil in disguise.” You promise, “you look good, Max. Really good.” You inhale deeply and the smell of his cologne hits your senses. “For you.” He holds the rose out and you soften even more, taking the flower and smelling it. “You are spoiling me.”

“Not yet,” he chuckles as he guides you over to the long, formal table that could seat twenty five, but there are just two place settings amongst the platters of pies and tarts, roasts and gravy. It is a banquet that would rival a king’s table. He pulls out your chair and pushes it in for you, before sitting down across from your seat. “Eat.” He orders softly.

You feel guilty having so much food for just you but you know Max likes extravagance. You dig in eagerly, knowing your days could be numbered here but you haven’t felt in danger since that first night in the castle. “You have an eternity, right?” You ask Max who taps his fingers on the table cloth, “in a way, yes.” He hopes he doesn’t have an eternity stuck like this. “What will you do with an eternity?” You inquire, wondering if he has plans.

Max’s eyes slide away for a moment, looking up towards the ceiling at the west wing and he sighs. “I don’t know.” He admits quietly. “I have already been lonely for so long, I don’t want to think about what will happen when eons pass by and I’m still here.” You tilt your head curiously. “You can go anywhere you want, can’t you?” You ask and he shakes his head, “the curse keeps me bound to my lands. I cannot leave beyond its borders.” He reveals, knowing that he is giving you a chance to escape if you want to, but he is hoping that you will stay.

Your heart breaks for him and you reach out to touch his hand, “I hope you can break the curse.” You don’t ask him how that’s accomplished because you don’t want to torture him if the curse is something that cannot be broken easily. “Me too.” He says, his eyes burning into yours and he squeezes your hand just as the music begins to play. You turn to look over your shoulder as a small band made up of servants convenes in the corner.

It looks like you have eaten your fill, if not, you can always come back to it. Pushing his chair back, Max stands and holds out his hand to you. “Dance with me, beauty,” he croons softly, hoping you take his hand. When he was a human, he had attended many dances and was good at it. Hopefully his abilities as a vampire will only improve those skills.

You take his hand, your heart fluttering as you stand up and he escorts you to the center of the ballroom. The band continues to play and you let him pull you close and you grip his shoulder and his hand. “I am not the best dancer.” You confess, “never really had a need to dance in the taverns.”

Max smiles a toothy grin. “No one here will judge you.” He promises before he steps into the dance and sweeps you along with him. You gasp and hold onto his shoulder tighter, making him chuckle as he starts to twirl you around the large ballroom, your skirts swishing along with the two of you as you dance.

You are shocked by how good a dancer Max is. Guiding you around the ballroom for a few songs until your thirst takes over. “I need a drink.” You announce and Max rushes over to fetch you a glass of water. “Thank you.” You lean in to kiss his cheek and you swear he blushes. “Tonight has been magical.” You sigh, glancing back at the quartet and you turn back to Max who has a soft look in his eye.

“It has.” He could compel you, but it wouldn’t break the spell. Plus it would be a hollow victory if you were to fall into his arms. You give him the sweetest smile, one that shows him that you see past his monstrous face but Max still steps forward slowly. “I want to kiss you.” He growls softly, reaching for your waist to pull you gently towards him. Giving you ample opportunity to turn him away. “Will you let me?” He remembers what you said about most men just wanting more and he doesn’t want you to feel like he is forcing you.

His face is monstrous but you see his soul, the kindness hiding beneath the hue of his yellow eyes. He claims to be selfish and mean but you have found him to be giving and kind. He is capable of so much more. You want him to kiss you. You nod, knowing he could kill you with a flick of his wrist but he’s only protected you. You tilt your head as his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his talons long but you’re not scared as his lips press against yours.

He takes it slow, keeping the kiss light and not pressing it further until your lips move. You change the angle of the kiss and Max growls. He still doesn’t take over, but he opens up and he feels your shiver when the edge of your tongue touches his fang, making him groan. It’s so innocent yet bold, spreading a warmth through his chest as he tightens his grip on you slightly and lets his own tongue touch against yours.

Your hands slide up his chest, gently gripping his suit jacket as you deepen the kiss, your tongue sliding against his and you gasp when his fang cuts your tongue and your drops of your blood spill into his mouth.

Max growls, feeling the need to taste you nearly overwhelming him, but he doesn’t attack you. Yanking his head away, his eyes are dark yellow, even more vivid than before.

You gasp when he pulls back to look at you, “I’m sorry.” He says and you shake your head, “it’s okay. I want - I want you to kiss me again.” You demand, your eyes wide and your chest heaving.

Your teeth are coated in the pink hue of your tongue but it makes Max even more ravenous as he swoops down to capture your lips again. It’s only a pity that it’s not enough blood to break the curse, and he isn’t convinced you love him yet. His tongue slides into your mouth eagerly and he crushes you against him, taking care not to hold you too tight.

You moan into his mouth, your hands sliding up to cup his cheeks, distorted beneath your touch and you slide your tongue against his, letting him taste you. The band stops playing and quietly leaves the ballroom, leaving you and Max to yourselves.

“I have to stop here.” Max confesses, hard and throbbing but he has pulled away from you again. “I do not wish to push you any farther than you would like to go and I can feel myself losing control.” He confesses. “I would never hurt you.” He adds. “I would make you scream in pleasure, but never fear.”

You have never been with a man but you want Max. You shouldn’t because he’s a beast but you see the kindness in his eye towards you. You want him to touch you. “I want you, Max. I don’t care that you are a vampire. I want you to take me to your bed. I’ve never thought - you would be the first.” You confess, biting your lip.

Max searches your eyes, looking for any hint of doubt and he finds none. His blood seemingly boils in his veins at your confession, making his passions undeniable. He scoops you up in his arms, and in the blink of an eye, you are transported to the west wing of the house. To his bedroom that had been previously forbidden for you to enter.

You shriek at the movement and you find yourself in a room you’ve never been in before. You gasp at the heavy drapes and painting that cover the room and near the window is a rose, sparkling and covered by glass. You don’t get a chance to ask about it as he spins you to press his lips to yours.

His talons almost shred the dress off your body but he tries to be gentle. Desperate to feel your skin and taste your warmth. He wants to give you the most pleasure you have only ever dreamed of. To show you that he can make you feel things that no one else can. Groaning softly when he caresses your back, he tugs the dress down to let it pool at your feet; your undergarments and your slippers the only thing you are wearing.

You step out of the dress, his hands all over your body and you reach for his cravat, pulling it loose and you toss it onto the floor so you can work on removing his shirt, untying it. “I want you, Max.” You plead, knowing he’s monstrous but you see the man beneath.

“You have me.” He promises, his talons are less careful with his own clothes. Hearing the fabric rip as he tries to get out of them so you can touch him as you wish to. His body is much like his face, human-like, but he is harder and more muscular than a human might ever dream of being, hard planes and sinewy under thick skin.

You gasp at the exposed skin and you slide your hands down his chest, noticing the lack of a heartbeat. “Max.” You moan when he leans in to kiss along your neck. He doesn’t bite you and you’re grateful for that, feeling his fangs scrap your skin as his hands grip your ass.

“Beautiful angel.” He groans softly, loving how sweet and warm you are. How you shiver against his cooler skin and your fingers caressing his chest feel like you are branding him with your touch. “Let me explore you.” He kisses your pulse and smiles when it jumps. “Taste you. Lick your sweet, untouched cunt and see if you will scream my name.”

His words make you wet and you nod, letting him guide you to the large bed in the middle of the room. You moan when he kisses down your chest as you lay down on the bed. “Max.” You sigh, “touch me.”

Permission granted, Max starts to strip you of the thin layer keeping your body from his gaze. Hungry for you, he can smell the arousal that heats your cunt and he growls possessively, monstrous claws holding your thighs apart to look down at the thick thatch of hair that protects your sex and his tongue swipes across his fangs. Ravenous for you, he hooks your knees under his hands and lifts them up to his shoulders and he bends down, your feet perched on his wings as he dives into your cunt.

Your cry echoes in the bedroom as his tongue slides through your folds. You’ve never felt anything like it and your hand immediately finds his hair, pulling to push him further into your flesh. “Oh my God, Max.” You moan, tilting your head back as your heart thumps.

You aren’t pushing him away. Instead you are arching your back and pulling him closer. Wanting more from the beast that he is. HIs growl of approval vibrates through your core and he laps at your clit before moving down to push his monstrous tongue into your wet heat, wanting to taste you from the source as he grinds his hips into the bed.

Your chest heaves as he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. You whimper when he curls his tongue deep inside you, pushing against that spot that makes your heart pound and your stomach twist. “Fuck.” You curse, unable to help yourself.

He huffs, amused and enthralled by the curse that falls from your sweet lips. His yellow eyes are fixed on your face, watching your reactions as he continues to devour you. You are so sweet, even your taste is like the cakes and candies that he used to enjoy before he had been changed. He could become addicted to you.

His tongue curls deep and his nose presses against your clit. “Oh God.” You pant, eyes squeezed shut as he pushes you higher and higher. “I am - I’ve never felt like this before.” You confess breathlessly. He chuckles at your confession, knowing that you couldn’t have felt this way when you’ve never had anyone - man or beast - between your thighs. Growling softly as he nudges his nose against the little button of pleasure above your entrance while he works his tongue deeper and deeper inside you.

His tongue makes you see stars and you’re pushed over the edge within moments, your body tensing as you flood his tongue with your pleasure. You’ve never felt like that and your fingers tangle in his hair as you take what he gives you.

Your juices are just as addictive as blood. Making Max greedy as he slurps it down, working you through the first orgasm you have received by another until your thighs are shaking and your feet are pressing into his wings.

You gasp, struggling to try and get oxygen as he steals the breath from you with his mouth on your cunt. “Max. Max. I - oh God.” You whine when it becomes too much to handle. “I want to kiss you.” You demand, wanting to taste yourself on his lips.

He crawls up your body, his eyes fixed on yours and the monstrous planes of his face make him look evil. Like he is about to devour you, but he only wants to possess you and make you cry by giving you another round of breathtaking pleasure. Following your orders and kissing you as soon as he can reach your lips.

You slide your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as your tang hits your tongue from his. Your hands slide up his stomach and you reach around to caress his wings, loving the way they flutter beneath your touch.

Max is still wearing his trousers, his cock straining against the seam and he reaches between the two of you, his claws slicing through the fabric to rip them off in his eagerness to free his length.

You slide your hands down his body, gasping when your fingers wrap around his hard length and you’re shocked at how big he is. You’ve seen naked men washing in your village and you never imagined feeling a man so large. “Max.” You plead, “tell me what to do.”

“Put me right at your entrance, Angel.” He groans and rocks his hips forward. “Tell me that I can slide inside you. That I can feel you around me.”

“Yes. Yes. I want you inside me.” You plead, feeling him shift so you can position him at your entrance. You’re dripping wet for him and you slide the head through your folds. “Take me, Max.” You beg, “I want to feel you inside me.”

You would be so easy to convince right now. Teasing you with his cock as he begs to drink your blood. You are desperate enough that you would consider it, probably letting him. Still he doesn’t. Instead, he slides his tongue into your mouth as he feels his cock notch at your entrance and he starts to slowly push inside you.

You grip his shoulders near his wings as he pushes slowly into you, his tongue caressing yours and you wince slightly at the sting when he pushes deeper and you try to relax to take him.

He feels how tight you are, despite him working to make sure you are wet and ready for him. He slowly rocks his hips and his wings unfurl in pleasure when you clench down around him.

“Max.” You cry as he pushes deep and he’s fully inside you. There’s a brief moment of pain but it fades when he kisses along your neck and allows you to adjust to him. “Oh God.” You pant, lifting your legs higher up on his hips.

You are perfect. Your sweet innocence is now taken by him, a monster. Yet you are whimpering for him to move and he waits still, wanting you to adjust to the feeling before he pulls his hips back.

He twitches inside you and you beg him to move and finally, he concedes. He rocks his hips and you close your eyes, head tilted back as you let him take your innocence. He's incredible and you see past the terror of his looks to see the man beneath.

Max tries to keep his pace slow, to build up to the frantic pace his own body is demanding. The tight heat of your cunt just makes him want to destroy you, to take everything you will give him and rail you into the bed. With his strength, that could kill you, so he holds himself back. Still, you moan every time he’s rocking back into your body.

You cling to him as he thrusts into you. Your mouth opens as he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. You moan and he smirks, “so tight for me.” You caress his back, his wings fluttering around you as he fucks you.

Max pushes his arms around your body, lifting you up off the bed as he continues to push in and out of your body, his wings flapping to keep you hovering above the sheets you were just writhing in.

You gasp in surprise and you clench around him. Your stomach twists and you’re getting closer. His talons dig into your flesh a little and you fall over the edge. His cock pushes deep and you cry out, clamping down on his cock as he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before.

Max throws his head back and growls, nearly a roar as he pushes deep. His seed is useless, but it paints your walls with thick, shuddering pulses as he follows you over the edge of bliss.

You cling to him, letting him work himself inside your body, and you sigh in bliss when he lays you back down on the sheets. “Max.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you open your eyes to look at him.

Max knows that he loves you. His heart would be pounding wildly if it still beat. He leans and gently kisses your lips, still buried inside you but he cannot stay there forever. Slowly, he pulls out of you and folds his wings down so he can against your body on his side. “How do you feel?”

“Perfect.” You murmur, curling into his side. You feel adored and relaxed, riding high on the pleasure from him. You caress his chest, lacking a heartbeat but you’re certain he can hear yours pounding in your chest. You close your eyes and breathe him in, “how - was it good for you?” You ask, curious and a little nervous.

“It was…..” Max tries to find a word to accurately describe it. “Beautiful.” He decides, his long digits slowly dragging up and down your side with his talons curled in so he doesn’t hurt you. “Just like you are.” He smiles. “Now we will have more to do than just read together in the library.”

You grin, kissing his chest as he curls around you, and you sigh, loving how good he’s made you feel. “I definitely want to do this again.” You hum and he chuckles, kissing your forehead, “I’ve created a monster.” You giggle at the wording and you yawn, suddenly exhausted by the way your body aches from the new movements. “Sleep.” Max orders, happy to hold you in his arms all night. You nod and snuggle into his side as he pulls the covers over you.

Max doesn’t sleep much, another effect of the curse. Instead he watches as you sleep, knowing that he has to tell you how he feels. Show you how he feels. He wants this curse to be broken so he can spend a real life with you. To take you to see the world and to experience how it has changed over the last one hundred years. You have talked of wanting to go on adventures and he will take you on them.

****

The morning after, Max was very sweet, reluctantly letting you go so you could wash and change for breakfast. He sits and watches you eat your morning meal while he sips a cup of blood - a sight you’ve gotten used to. He offers you a bloody smile every so often that makes you giggle and he chuckles, loving to make you laugh. After breakfast, you go for a walk and Max tells you about the history of his home, how it spans back generations and how his parents taught him to manage the estate. “I was spoiled. Selfish. A blood sucking bastard. I didn’t deserve such a fine home and I know that is why I was cursed. I was horrible.” He admits and you rub his arm, “but you’ve learned and surely that gets you closer to breaking the curse.”

“Hopefully I am closer than ever before.” Max admits, pausing in the gardens to turn towards you. “You are so beautiful.” He murmurs again, reaching out to cup your cheek and he is struck by the contrast between his taloned hand and your gentle human body. “Angel, I-“ there is a crash from around the hedges and Max instantly changes, fangs on display and growling protectively at any threat that might harm you.

You gasp as Max shoves you behind him and you peek around him, eyes wide as you see your brother. “Max. No. It’s - it’s my brother.” You pat Max on the back and he lets you step around him. Your brother rushes forward to hug you, pulling you close. “You’re okay.” He gasps, kissing your hair. “I’m better than okay.” You promise, “I’ve been treated like royalty.” You admit and your brother looks over at Max with raised eyebrows. “He - he’s a monster.” Your brother frowns and you shake your head, “he’s not.” Your brother sighs, “you need to come home. I - I will give back the coins. I cannot let you stay here with a monster. Not when father has returned. I think - he’s dying. He cannot walk and his speech is slurring.” Your brother confesses and you sigh, knowing your alcoholic father would come back one day to the cottage you called home.

Max scowls but he relaxes when he recognizes your brother, unhappy that the man is here and demanding that you leave. He sees the hesitation in your refusal and knows that you want to leave him. Despite how he has treated you, despite everything he has given you, you don’t love him. He should have known you could never love a monster.

You don’t want to leave but your father is dying. You must say goodbye to him and get his affairs in order. You turn to look at Max, knowing he is the one who decides if you leave or if you stay. “My father is dying. He’s not a good man but I must say goodbye for my own peace of mind.” You say to Max, hoping he lets you go do this. “I’ll come back.” You promise even though you doubt he will believe you.

His heart breaks, knowing that by the time you come back, it will be too late. The last petals of the rose will have fallen and the curse will be permanent. His heart shatters, but he arches a brow and ruffles his wings as if he is completely unaffected. “Leave.” He commands dismissively. “Do not bother to return. I have already gotten what I craved from you.” He lies cruelly, lashing out in his own hurt.

Your heart twists at the way his frown furrows and his expression hardens, his words piercing your heart that thumps for him. “You - you didn’t?” Your brother chokes and you stiffen your back, “it doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” You demand and your brother wraps his around you to guide you through the gardens to his horse. Max watches until you disappear and he doesn’t see the tears on your cheeks as you walk away from the man you love.

A loud roar scatters the birds that had started to come around the castle again, sending them into the skies. Max uncurls his wings and shoots up into the air, desperate to hunt and drain the life of something to feed himself and rip it to shreds.

****

You return to your village and you enter the cottage to find your father in bed, his brow beaded with sweat and you know he’s dying. “Papa.” You call to him and kneel down beside him. “You’re here.” Your father smiles and reaches for your hand, “I’m here, papa.” You promise, a sad smile on your face.

“I am sorry.” He groans. “I was not the father I should have been. Losing your mother changed me.” He has had time to reflect on his mistakes and these are the ones he regret most bitterly. “Find love, my sweet daughter. Settle for nothing more than a man who would give you everything.”

You caress his cheek, knowing he could’ve been a better father but he let himself get lost in the ale after your mother died suddenly. “I have found love, papa. He’s everything I want. I love him.” You confess and your father squeezes your hand, “then go to him.” He urges, coughing moments later and you choke when his grip goes slack.

His last thoughts on this earth are of your mother; of the joy of knowing that you are loved and will be cared for. Your brother shuffles behind you. “You cannot return to that monster.” He hisses. “He let you go.”

You turn to your brother, your eyes watery and you shake your head, “he let me go because I- I needed to be here. I want to go back. He’s not a monster, he’s a good man.” You argue and your brother shakes his head, “he’s a beast. He will kill you.” You scoff, wiping your cheeks, “he made me feel protected and valued. He listened to me. Gave me whatever I wanted. I wish to return to him and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I love you but I am in love with him.” You declare and your brother is shocked. He’s never heard you speak like this. “Then go.” He demands, waving at you, “go back to him.” You stand up, rushing to your brother to kiss his cheek before you run outside to your horse. You quickly saddle him and swing your leg over, your dress flowing out behind you as you make your way back to Max.

The bedroom is trashed, the bed splintered to pieces and the furniture destroyed. The only thing that remains untouched in the room is the table with the enchanted rose. The single petal hanging precariously on as Max sulks in the shadows. “Sir!” The door bursts open and Corbin hustles into the room. “We are under attack!” He cries, but even that does nothing to stir Max from his depression. “Let them come.” He grunts, turning away from the servant and staring out the window in the direction he had last seen you from.

You find out as you approach the castle that your brother had told every man who ventured into the tavern in the village that the castle in the forest was piled high in gold and silver and a monster resides there. You ride harder, desperate to get to Max and you see your landlord leading the charge into the castle. Gold and silver are carried away in the men’s hands as they pillage and you run through the castle after leaving your horse outside. “Max!” You yell, trying to find the man you love.

Max lets the men take what they want, the servants are down in the passageways under the castle, safe behind a trick door but he doesn’t leave his room. Not paying attention to anything, not even the door creaking open as he stares out the window still.

You rush through the castle, pushing past the men who are carrying whatever their pockets will handle. “Well, well, well. This is the beast her brother was crowing about. I have to say, you’re hardly a beast when you live in luxury. If I was you, I’d be fucking whatever I could and living it up.” The landlord, Louis, grins as he holds the gun in his hand, pointing it towards Max.

“Just take what you want and go.” Max barely cuts his eyes towards the man standing in his room. The gun isn’t a threat he is concerned about and he won’t fight the man. You are gone and he will be this way forever, so it doesn’t matter.

“It’s not gold that I want.” Louis declares, “you have something that’s more precious. Someone.” He says your name, “you stole her from me. I wanted her, asked her to marry me and the next thing I know her brother is screaming about a beast who has taken his sister. Then she returns and says the beast isn’t a beast. He’s a man and her eyes…she looks like she’s in love.” Louis scoffs, “you have what is mine. She will never be with me if you are alive.”

“She doesn’t love me.” Max snorts. “I am a beast. I sent her away.” He hates how he had just a glimmer of hope because of his words. “Do not make me kill you.” He warns. “I just want to be left in peace.”

“I cannot allow you to live. Not if she has a glimmer of hope to be with you. I shall kill you and I’ll console the poor girl. I did my research. I have wooden bullets.” He chuckles and Max growls, standing up to face the man, “I told you to leave me the fuck a-” He doesn’t finish his sentence as Louis fires the gun just as you rush across the room and push the man to the floor with all of your strength.

Max sees you, hears your scream right as the wooden bullet pierces his skin. Making him groan out and collapse to the floor, feeling physical pain for the first time since he had been cursed and feeling the blood in his body start to pool under him. He moans your name. “You came.”

Louis chuckles and you scramble off of him, rushing over to Max who chokes on his blood. “No no no no.” You cry, cupping his cheeks, “please don’t die. Please.” You beg, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Don’t go, Max.” You plead as his eyes flutter, more blood pooling beneath him and staining your skirts. He chokes and you can’t understand him, it’s more of a gurgle. “Please.” You whimper as his eyes close, “I love you. Please don’t go. I love you.” You sob, your hands cupping his cheeks and you don’t realize it but you cut your wrist on Louis’s knife when you pushed him down. Your blood trickles down your palm and onto Max’s cheek, trailing along to his mouth as you lean over him, crying for the loss of your love.

In the glass case, the last petal on the rose falls off and flutters to the bottom. The time is up.

Max goes still and his eyes close, silence falling over the room making your sobs sound even louder. Louis watches, believing that he has won and will be able to drag you away from the beast’s body. Not noticing the small flickers of light starting to dance around both you and the body. Not until a giant ball of light seems to glow out of the monster's chest and he starts to rise from the ground, making you gasp as you are pushed upright.

You watch Max rise into the air, the light engulfing him and you scramble back, eyes wide at the scene in front of you. You swallow harshly, tears on your cheeks and you wince when the light beams until it starts to fade and you see a man standing in the place where Max once stood. You frown, standing on shaky legs as you walk towards the man, his eyes now brown and soft, his hair dark and short but his features are familiar to you. “Max?” You choke, recognizing the beast who is now human.

It takes him a moment, staring down at his hands and then feeling his chest and face, feeling his hair before he chokes out a laugh and grabs your hands to say your name. “It’s me!” He laughs again. “You broke the curse! I- I’m me again.” Crushing you against him, he presses his lips to yours without the presence of fangs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning against his lips as you pull back to look at him, “it’s you. Oh my God.” You laugh, ridiculously happy for him to be alive and the curse of be broken. “Wait. How is - the curse? How is it broken?” You ask, brow furrowed.

Max shoots you a guilty look. “I had to drink your blood.” He frowns when he realizes that means you are injured and pulls back to examine your hands and tutting when he sees the cut.

You look down at the injury and you gasp, not even realizing you were cut. Louis growls, pissed off that his plan failed but as he raises his gun again, he is whacked over the head by Corbin with a metal tray. Louis falls to the floor but you pay him no mind. “Why didn’t you just ask me? I would’ve given you my blood if it meant your curse being broken.” You tut and Max sighs, “because it doesn’t work like that. It only works if you love me.” You shake your head, a soft smile on your face. “The curse is broken. Did you not hear me say it? I love you, Max. I loved you as a beast and I love you as you are now. I don’t care about your looks, I love you. Who you are inside.” You promise, cupping his cheek.

“But you cannot tell me that I do not look better now.” He huffs, leaning in to kiss you again. His heart jolts in his chest and his eyes widen, gasping into the kiss. “My heart!” He grabs your hand and holds it over the wildly beating muscle. “This is all for you, Angel.”

“Your haircut is better.” You tease and he chuckles, his chest moving beneath your palm. You feel his heartbeat and you lean in to kiss him again, “mine is yours.” You promise and he nudges his nose against yours. The staff come rushing through the doors, excited cries of relief that their years of being frozen in time are over. “I knew she was the one.” Mrs. Smith proclaims and the others nod as Max caresses your cheek while he stares lovingly into your eyes.

“I love you.” He murmurs softly. “You saved me from my fate as the beast that no one could love.” His thumb strokes your cheek. “We will be married as soon as we can have the party.” He decides, grinning at you. “And we will live happily ever after.”

You nod, knowing you want to spend the rest of your life with him. “I love you.” You murmur, kissing him again as he pulls you close.

****

“You may now kiss the bride!” The priest declares even though Max has already surged forward to press his lips to yours. The castle is decorated and the villagers are in attendance as well as the servants, all excited to witness Max and his bride be married. Max is soon sweeping you onto the dance floor and you grip his arms as he twirls you around. He is devastatingly handsome but he’s softer, not the bitter beast he was. He is happy and giving and kind even if he’s sarcastic at times. You adore him and you can’t wait to spend your life with him.

“Are you ready for happily ever after?” You ask Max and he offers you a beautiful grin, “with you? I was ready from the night you broke into my house.” He smirks and you snort, “that was my brother.” You look over at your brother who is smiling and speaking with the maid who is blushing at his flirtations. “So you weren’t trying to steal, but you ended up stealing my heart.” He declares and you giggle softly, making him grin to have made you laugh. “And ended up taming the beast.” You counter and Max grins, oblivious to anyone but you. The beauty who tamed the beast and broke the vampiric curse of Max Phillips

#pedro pascal #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips smut #max phillips imagine #beauty and the beast au #beast!max phillips

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brandyllyn · 6 months ago

Text

Frostbite

Max Phillips x f!reader

Summary: By all that was holy in the world, you were going to slap the ever-loving shit out of this man. Words: 1.9k

For the #pedrostoriesgift24 Holiday Gift Exchange. @almostfoxglove asked for:

* max gets reader/character for their office's secret santa (or vice versa) * office christmas party

And y'all know I can't resist Max.

My Masterlist <- So much more Max stuff here y'all. I've missed him.

Rated: Teen Warnings: This is romantic and sweet and I make no apologies for that. Max being Max, however.

If you had to listen to George Michael complain one more time about what happened last Christmas, you were going to cause a scene.

Looking around the room, you took some small solace that no one else seemed to be having a good time either. Derek had taken up a post near the exit, obviously waiting until just enough time had passed that he could make a break for it. Malika was on her third hard cider - if she wasn’t careful she’d be the Monday morning gossip.

And the very next day, you gave it away…

You slip your phone from your pocket as surreptitiously as possible, checking the clock. Not even 6:30, there was still the speech from the CEO, the sales award, and of course the office secret Santa to get through before you could make your escape. They always saved secret Santa for last - everyone marching one by one to open their gift from the table in the center of the room. Showing everyone the mug they had been given.

It was always a mug.

The table looked extra sad this year - filled almost entirely with bags, half of which didn’t even have a festive spray of tissue. It was the laziest possible wrapping job. Nothing more clearly said ‘I put no thought into this’ than a dollar store bag, taped shut.

You had wrapped your gift. An oblong box with a festive red bow. Inside was a designer tie - one you had been lucky to find at a local thrift store. You had no idea if your giftee would like it, he ran so hot and cold you never could tell if he even liked you. Or anybody for that matter.

“Hey there sweet cheeks, looking for me?”

Speak of the devil.

“Never.”

He sidles up next to you, all long limbs and expensive cologne. His suit is perfect; crisp navy blue with a sparkly snowflake tie. As usual he stands too close, forcing you to shift slightly sideways to avoid brushing against him.

“You tease,” he pouts with a puffed out lower lip. “You’re gonna break my heart.”

Max Phillips, rising star of the sales department. Arrogant, conceited asshole and inveterate flirt. He was handsome too, which was honestly just annoying. If someone was going to be that obnoxious, they should at least look like half a roasted ham.

“I have it on good authority you don’t have one,” you point out.

He pats his chest for a moment, giving you a wounded look. “Stacey tell you that? Don’t be jealous, baby.”

“Miranda.”

He has the decency to hesitate, eyes darting across the room before back to you. “Well, someone had to be my shoulder to cry on.” You snort at that and he grins, shifting closer again and almost backing you to the wall. “And don’t worry about them, that’s business.”

You were pretty sure whatever that was you had walked in on in the copy room hadn’t been ‘business’ but you don’t point it out. Miranda hadn’t been the same, something viscerally off about her, ever since.

“You,” he leaned into you and you felt a cubicle wall at your back, “you would be nothing but pleasure wouldn’t you?”

“We are at work.”

“Most couples meet at work.”

“We’re not a couple.”

“We’re not a couple, yet.” He takes a deep breath and frowned. “You don’t take good care of yourself.”

“Excuse you?”

It came out close to a shriek, several heads turning your direction. Max gave them a dazzlingly wide smile and as one they smiled back. Even Richard, the grumpiest at the best of times, blushed. He blushed.

“You’re not eating right.”

By all that was holy in the world, you were going to slap the ever-loving shit out of this man. He wasn’t even looking at you, eyes scanning the room while he talked out of the corner of his mouth. “Dave is doing his speech,” you try to point out but Max gives you his attention long enough to roll his eyes.

“Don’t change the subject, babydoll.”

“What subject?”

Max takes the proverbial shovel you offer. “You’re gaunt. You’re not getting the right vitamins.”

“From the man who has an ‘allergy’ to sunlight.”

The grin he gives you is wolfish. “That’s documented. I have a doctor’s note.” You can’t help the small smile and of course he notices. “There now, was that so hard? I’m being charming all over the place here.”

“Why?”

The word is a hiss of air and he blinks at you, confused. “What do you mean, why?”

“You’ve fucked half the office.” You try very hard to keep your tone too low for anyone else to hear. “Am I keeping you from bingo or something?”

Another one of those deep breaths and he leans in to you, so close you think he might actually nuzzle you. “I like you.”

You snort, turning away.

“I do.” He scans the room again before he turns, blocking your view with his wide shoulders. “Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“I said no.”

There’s silence for several heartbeats before he admits, “You intrigue me.”

“You’re a liar.”

“All the time,” he concedes. “But not right now. There’s something for my people, a knowing of sorts…”

He trails off and you can’t help but ask, “Your people? Wasps?”

“Something like that.”

“Max Phillips!” The call of his name comes from out of the blue.

“Gotta run, sugar tits, duty calls.”

Of course he’s won the sales award. He shakes the CEO’s hand while accepting the plaque, turning and smiling - not pausing for even a moment when he realizes no one is going to take his photo. It doesn’t stop him from playing mayor of the cubicle farm, waving at a few people before stepping to the side. You notice him looking at you and studiously avoid meeting his eyes.

The secret Santa starts and you take a quick tally of how many people participated this year. Even if half the people make a fuss about it, you should be able to leave in fifteen minutes - twenty tops.

Since Max won the award he gets to go first, picking up the box you had carefully wrapped and tearing into it with the gusto of a toddler. He fingers the silk and you swear his eyes dart to where you’re standing.

There is no way he could know you’d bought it for him. No way.

“Looks like we may have a tie for best present.”

People laugh at his terrible joke and he steps to the side, letting the next person fetch their mug. You try to be surreptitious as you gauge his reaction. Does he like it? Does he think it’s tacky? With one hand he pulls off the one he’s wearing and loops the length of red silk around his collar, deftly tying a full Windsor.

It looks good on him.

Dammit.

Your name is called and you shake yourself out of your stupor, avoiding looking to the side. The present is in a bright orange bag - not even a holiday color - and stapled closed. You reach in and pull out the small bottle.

“Iron supplements.”

There’s a small scattering of applause and you stare at the offending object for so long the new HR lady has to gently move you aside.

Iron supplements.

Your secret Santa got you fucking iron supplements.

“You don’t look happy.”

The tie you so carefully picked out mocks you. You put thought into his present - and your Santa did what? Clean out their medicine cabinet? You wouldn’t be surprised if the bottle was already open.

No, you were not happy. You were fuming.

“You look pale.”

“Shut up.”

“And you’ve been having headaches lately.”

“How would you know?”

“I told you, you intrigue me.”

Something clicks and you finally look up at him, bottle clenched in your fist. “This was you?”

“You’re anemic.”

He sounds so absurdly reasonable you barely resist the urge to kick him. “You are not my doctor.”

“Do you have a doctor?”

You don’t, not that he needs to know that.

“If you did they might tell you your iron count is dangerously low. You should get checked for an autoimmune disease.”

“I do not have an autoimmune disease.” Derek shoots you a surprised look and you give him a wide smile before jerking Max’s arm and pulling him into a supply closet. “This is not appropriate. On like a hundred levels.”

“Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Tell me.”

“Don’t take that tone with me.” You shove a finger into his chest. “You may get other people to leap to your bidding but I’m not one of them.”

“I know,” he grins, “it’s fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” you repeat.

“Fantastic.” He’s faster that you expect, grabbing your wrist and flattening your palm to his chest. “Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

He sounds genuinely concerned and you deflate, giving in. “I don’t have the money for fresh food. I’m living off ramen at the moment, okay? I’ll probably develop scurvy soon.”

“We pay you a decent amount - not what you’re worth, of course - but market value.”

You don’t bother asking how he knows that. “My ex took a loan out in my name. I’ve been paying it off.”

“Why isn’t he paying it off?”

“Because he’s an asshole and I can’t make him do anything.”

“Want me to kill him for you?”

It’s said so casually you almost think he means it. “It’s fine. It’s only another year. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to get rickets.”

“Isn’t that what Tiny Tim had?”

He nods. “Yes, and you’ll be begging for a Christmas bonus just like he did, too.”

“I think that was his dad.”

“Which one did Kermit play?”

You scoff, trying to pull your hand away from him. “Have you only ever seen the Muppet version of a Christmas Carol?”

He doesn’t let you go. “It’s the only one worth seeing.”

“Max,” you say softly. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, for worrying about me. Even if this-” you hold up the supplements with your other hand “-is by far the worst gift I have ever gotten.”

He gifts you with that wide, easy smile of his. “Let me buy you dinner, to make up for it.”

“Sure you don’t already have a date?”

“I’d cancel any plans for you.” If you didn’t know better you’d say he was serious.

“Big words, don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

“I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

He’s standing close, so close your chest brushes his when you take a breath. “Max…”

Tingles shoot to your fingertips as his lips capture yours. A rush of heat floods through you and you can’t help but moan when he sinks his fingers into the back of your neck. The sound he makes is close to a growl, his mouth opening and his tongue is suddenly there, licking at the seam of your lips.

Would it be wrong to climb him like a tree in the supply closet?

He apparently has the same idea, lifting you from underneath your ass with an ease that takes your breath away. Your back is pressed to the wire shelves and his hips settle between your thighs as though he’s always belonged there. Your neck arches into the palm of his hand and he nuzzles beneath your ear.

“Take your damn iron pills.”

“What?”

“Your iron,” his teeth scrape along your jaw, “and maybe a multi-vitamin too.”

You were going to slap him. Just soon as your head stopped spinning from his kiss.

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Tagging in @almostfoxglove once more. Hope you liked your Max.

#max phillips #max philips x reader #pedrostoriesgift24 #pedrostories #it christmas!#merr christmas

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sizzlingcloudmentality · 28 days ago

Text

sugar tits

Max Phillips x f!reader | wc: 3.8k | explicit, mdni | ao3

summary: driving Max to meetings is part of your job as the assistant. providing him with snacks and your tits to busy his hands and mouth is part of your situationship.

warnings: no use of y/n, ablebodied reader, reader has tits big enough for titfucks, established coworker-with-benefits situationship (and a sprinkle of idiots in love), blood (duh), blood drinking (duh²), blood play (duh³), spitting, Max and reader being kinda switchy, pet names (sugar tits, Maxie), breast play, nipple play, titty fuck, breastfeeding but vampire style (you've read it here first), cum eating, dm me if I missed any

a/n: this is my embarrassingly late entry for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge. it sat half finished in my wips for months. I got assigned 'roadtrip' and road tripping is driving around and eating, right? This is for my titty fuck (fic) and Max enjoyer. A lot of love, as always, to @guiltyasdave for the usual: beta, hyping, going feral over the pointy teeth man 💛💛💛

“Sugar tits!”

You sigh and check the rear view mirror. Max smirks at you, splayed on the backseat of the car, looking dapper and cocky as always.

“Sugar tits, can I have a snack?” He bats his lashes and purses his lips into the fakest of pouts that you have ever seen on his face.

“You already had your snack. Remember? Before we left?” You raise a brow and glance at him again. Still this shit eating grin on his face.

“Yeah, I remember. But I can’t taste your pussy on my tongue anymore. My mouth misses you, sugar tits.”

You shake your head, not able to hide your own smirk now. “No. It hasn’t even been two hours. Patience is a virtue, Max.”

The pout on his face is a real one now. He shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks, his fingers starting to fondle himself. “Bitch,” Max mutters and then sees a shit eating grin spread on your face. HIS signature facial expression. He would love to slap it out of your face, with his dick. “Whatever,” he grumbles, pulls one hand out of his pockets and reaches for some paperwork to look over.

Work trips with Max needed a little more planning. It was like traveling with a toddler at times. He needed attention, enrichment, constant skin contact, he needed his special seat (in the back, all windows blacked out of course) and snack breaks.

You spoiled him. Spoiled him rotten. And the consequences of your actions are now sitting in the backseat, glaring at you, licking over his teeth and gums. He looks like he’s gonna pounce on you any second now.

You take a hand off the steering wheel and reach behind you, patting his knee.

“Maxie,” you coo and give him your best doe eyes in the rear view mirror.

He frowns, his lip twitches. He is hangry, and while your hangry makes you grumpy and verbally lash out, his hangry makes him snap necks.

“Don't. Maxie. Me,” he hisses and licks over his gums again. They pulse in the same rhythm as his fangs that start to grow and push out. The same rhythm his dick throbs in his briefs, too. Hungry always means hungry for all physical pleasures. “Pull over. Now!”

Sometimes you couldn't tell if he was really about to snap or if he was just acting like the big bad vampire to get what he wants as fast as possible. And honestly, you didn't want to find out.

You find a break area a minute later and when you join Max in the backseat, he is all over you in no time.

The position is practiced, a habit formed through daily repetition over the course of months. It’s comfortable, almost cozy, it makes your heart flutter and not only because Max drinks from you.

You are pulled underneath him, one of your legs between his thighs, and like hormonal teenagers you rub against each other in the back of the car.

You can feel it, sense it in the powerful movements of Max’ body on yours. He tries hard to hold back but the hunger in him is primal, raw. You let him take what he wants at this point. With his eyes darkened and fangs on full display, it isn’t about wanting anymore, it is about what Max needs.

“Need you, sugar tits,” he groans with his open mouth pressed against your pulse point already. He tries to hold back, because he likes you. Straight up eating you would not be a nice thing to do. He wants to be nice, just a little bit, and just for you. “Be a good girl for me, will ya?”

With his hands kneading your tits and his fangs grazing your neck, his thigh pressed against your crotch and you grinding down on him, there isn’t much else left to do than to nod. You like that he needs you, that he takes a liking in your blood specifically, maybe even in your mouthy behavior.

“I’ll be good. Take what you need,” you murmur and pull down the collar of your blouse for him. “But no stains, I don’t have a-”

His patience wears thin, it’s barely there. Stains. As if he was a messy eater. He snarls a “shut up”, a hand finds the back of your neck to hold you in place, but also to make it as comfortable as possible for you. He is no monster.

Max nuzzles the crook of your neck, taking in your scent, the blood, the perfume, your skin. His tongue licks over your pulse point, once, twice, he can already taste you.

Something sharp grazes your neck, it feels like two needles. Another lap, warm, soft, wet and then he bites you. His fangs cut through your skin and the underlying tissue with ease, a feeling you will never grow accustomed to.

When your fingers clutch his arms, gripping the fabric of his suit jacket like he grips the back of your head, Max coos with his lips latched to you. He never asked how it feels for you, being fed from. But he imagines, sometimes, when he feels pathetic and sentimental in the emptiness of his apartment, that it doesn’t feel too good.

He is no monster. Soothing circles are massaged into your scalp, he shifts his weight to not crush you and he hums, hoping it would help you with the uncomfortable feeling. The first drops of your blood spill into his mouth and he licks them up like a cat licking up spilled cream.

“Go ahead,” is all you murmur and it sounds like a quiet wince. “‘s okay, Maxie.”

He sighs softly, changes the angle of his jaw and the sweet coppery blood fills his mouth. So sweet, so warm, your heartbeat on his tongue. He laps, swallows, whines. You taste good. Special, lively, warm, like calmness. Whenever he feeds on you it fills his veins with your essence and his mind with your… acceptance of him being an abnormality of nature? You taste as if you like him. Not just the sexy vampire aura, but him, Max. Maxie.

He drinks a few mouthfuls, slowly, even though his hunger for you tells him to drain you. He would never drain you. That would mean killing you, losing his favorite blood bag, the only one he has. The only one he wants. Your blood warms his heart and he swallows it together with the emotions that start rising up in him. He is no monster. But he is no wimp either.

Your fingers relax, a hand roams up his arm and all that you can hear in the back of the car is the quiet suckling and swallowing coming from Max. He ruts against your thigh, semi-hard and with less neediness than before. His hunger starts to slowly disappear, and even though he still lays on top of you, even though he still feeds on you and rubs himself against you, this is for comfort. That's what you suspect, at least.

You once asked him why he did this, the hums and rubs, the pressing of his tongue on the tiny puncture wounds in your neck without really drawing any more blood. He scowled. He wouldn't need comfort. This was all part of the process. And you clearly had no idea about that.

Max was right, you didn't know what was part of the feeding and drinking and what was not.

But you tested your comfort theory out one evening: you stroked over his hair, hummed in response and spoke softly to him. And instead of making fun of you, Max almost became affectionate. He almost snuggled up, closer to you.

You never spoke about it again, about this moment of softness. When he lifted his head that evening, he smiled. You smiled back. Then the moment was over and he talked about a presentation for the next day.

The rutting stops and the languid licks over your wound turn into a soft kiss with his lips lingering, as if he's afraid to disrupt the connection with you.

“Feeling better now?” you ask softly, breaking the silence in the car.

“Mhmm,” he hums against your neck and for a second you think you might get another one of those cuddly soft cotton candy moments with him.

Max shuffles slightly, one hand still holding your head in a comfortable position while the other one creeps up your side and finally finds its place on one of your breasts.

“Been good,” he murmurs and squeezes you once. “Made no stains. I want a reward, sugar tits.”

“You already got your reward, Maxie.” You turn your face towards him and catch him licking the corners of his mouth clean. “The little sippy sip?”

“Yeah, but I also want your tits. Please?” He flashes you a wry smile and his teeth look like white marble with red streaks.

You tug on a strand of his hair, just harsh enough to see his smile turn into a lopsided pout. “No. There’s an important meeting in an hour and we still have to get there. Titty time takes forever with you.”

He knows you're right. And he hates the thought of arriving too late to the meeting and losing the pitch. With a groan his face disappears in your cleavage, one hand kneading you desperately. His voice is muffled while he whispers and gently tugs on a mouthful of your tits. Something about “be back soon, Linda and Rita” and you know he’s talking to your tits, again. Max truly is a tit man, a man sized toddler who is doing the grabby hands whenever you're wearing something that shows a sliver of cleavage.

“But afterwards, right?” He looks up at you, expectantly. The demand is clearly written all over his face. You nod your head because saying no isn’t an option with a moody and cranky vampire.

“Yeah, after the meeting.”

The meeting was good. Really good actually, of course. Max convinced the other party to throw a whole lotta money at him and the company. And when you exit the elevator together and enter the underground parking, he is strutting like he just got five inches taller and his balls bigger.

While you search for the car keys, Max is searching for the fastest way to feel your skin under his hands. He doesn’t care that someone could see, or that there are security cameras everywhere. He just needs to feel you. You manage to open the car before he pulls up your blouse and you get on the backseat with him. When the door closes with a quiet thud you know that there’s no escape. Not that you wanted one in the first place.

Max after a successful business thing is not so different to the everyday version of him: cocky, arrogant, horny, hungry. Dangerous. But everything is maxed now. His eyes are darker, teeth sharper, voice lower and somewhere between sweet and lethal. A predator needing his fix.

“Sugar tits…” he croons, licking his lips as he pulls on your hip and drags you under him. Vampire strength, manhandling but the supernatural kind. You don’t even question how you end up in certain positions anymore.

Max is straddling you, all you see is the strained fabric of his slacks, bulging thighs left and right of your torso, a throb behind the fly. His hands on your chest, palming, pawing, squeezing.

“You’ll let me have this, right? Let me have you like this?”

A rhetoric question, you both know it. So you just nod your head yes, hands already roaming over his thighs, higher, until you feel his hard bulge. Palming, pawing, squeezing. Two can play a game and you're always the lucky loser.

Max involuntarily bucks into your hand, immediately annoyed about his body’s lack of obedience.

“Patience,” he snarls and contradicts his words with hasty fingers unbuttoning your blouse and letting your bra snap open. Front closure for easy access.

Both of you sigh in relief. You because the straps aren’t cutting into your shoulders anymore and Max because he finally can return to his playground, his homebase. He cups your tits, gently, as if holding something precious, and buries his face right into them.

“That's my good Maxie,” you coo with your hand in his hair. You get a happy purr from him when you breathe in deeply, your chest rising. His nose is nestled between the swell of your breasts and he almost can smell your heartbeat, taste the creamy thud on his tongue.

He licks you, the salt on your skin like an amuse bouche, the first little treat in a line of more tasty courses. Open mouthed, flat tongued, prickly fanged he moves over your flesh, his thumb rubbing over your nipple and making it stiff.

He pinches it, tugs at the bud until you wince and until he can hear you clench around nothing. Yeah, he fucking loves his hightened vampire senses.

“Want you,” he slurs with his tongue kitten licking the other nipple, coaxing it to tighten and peak, “feed me!”

They are sensitive, hurting even. He knows it, your muscles twitch with every lick and every tweak. And when he closes his lips around your nipple, you suck in air and hold it deep in your lungs.

With his hands on your tits, Max settles on top of you. He loves this, your warm, soft flesh almost spilling through his fingers, the weight of them perfectly resting in his palms. He loves how sore your nipples taste. Because he licks them so often, sucks on them, suckles himself into a state of sleepy horniness every night.

It soothes you, too, despite the pain. Something inside of you always kicks in, something embarrassingly motherly. But when you hear him smack his lips, the sound of him swallowing his own saliva and your–

“Ow…” you hiss when his teeth cut through your skin, and he is still sucking your nipple into his mouth. A gulp, a purr, his hands kneading your breasts now in an attempt to increase the blood flow.

“Maxie.” A sigh falls from your lips, somewhere between affection and lightheadedness.

He lifts his head a little bit, slowly sucking on your tit, drinking your blood. But his big brown eyes, the shine in them… Perhaps it’s some vampire poison that lets you have these thoughts, but he almost looks like he really cares for you, beyond the blood and breasts.

Another purr comes from him and when he moves to the other breast. Long threads of his spit mixed with your blood dribble from his lips. Max is messy on purpose. He likes the way you look like this, skin glistening like tart cherries, plump and sour and sweet on the tip of his tongue.

Max likes the feel, too. His hands press your breasts together and rub them to spread the bloody drool before you feel a sting around your other stiff peak and the wet heat of his tongue. This time the suction and slight pain makes you moan. The grip in his hair tightens and when you push him closer Max obliges happily.

Closer and more. That is all that is on his mind. Before you it was only ever more. But with you? He wants to be closer. On your skin, under your skin. And he wants you under his skin, too. In his bloodstream, flooding every cell in his body, running through his veins and heart and brain and dick.

“Fucking need you,” Max mutters, fangs and tongue still half-way latched onto your tit. He is hard, digging into your thigh with every roll of his hip. He pushes himself up enough to watch how his saliva slickens your chest, combining with the tiny drops of scarlet blood, running from around your nipples.

You only notice that he isn’t wearing his pants anymore when he’s straddling you again. Crouching over you, he makes the backseat feel even more cramped. Max’ thighs cage you in, his skin cold against you, but it’s the look on his face that sends a shiver down your spine.

Blood is trickling from the corners of his mouth, with his fangs on full display. He knows he looks like a monster. He is a monster. One with a hard cock begging to be taken care of. You’re already reaching for him, looking hungry for him.

“Don’t, sugar tits. Just relax. Look pretty,” he says and spits in his hand. “Can you do that for me?”

You watch him wrap his fingers around his cock and stroking himself. He is impatient, you can tell by the way he squeezes himself and his nostrils flare again. You’re quick, appeasing the beast with a nod.

“I'll look extra pretty. And Maxie?” Your hands cup your tits now, and you pinch your sore nipples with a wince.

The leather of the seats creaks under his knees when he shifts, bringing his cock between your breasts. The sight alone lets Max moan. He tears his gaze away and looks back at you. Eyes half-lidded, your lip sucked between your teeth, the tiniest frown on your face because you’re aching for him. He can smell it.

“What is it, sugar tits?

“Fuck my tits real good.” You push your breast together, burying him between them. Smirking. Knowing exactly how to pull on his strings to make him lose it.

Max just scoffs, As if he ever doesn’t fuck you good. He pulls back and, with a groan, pushes his throbbing length in between your blood and spit slicked tits. You’re so warm and soft and wet. Not as tight as your pussy and so different to your mouth and ass. But nothing matches the look of your bloody tits and hands. And the look of his cock, covered in a mixture of spit and blood and his leaking precum. Max loves to see his tip appear and disappear again from between your breasts squished together. And he loves that sound, this distinct wet sound of fucking your tits, so sloppy and slippery.

He could take his time. He could make sure that you enjoy it too, with his hand between your legs maybe. But he doesn’t. He'll make it quick, because you’re hurting, basically folded in half on the backseat. Max will take his time later, with you in his bed and his fingers in your pussy, then his tongue, then his cock, then his tongue again. Fuck, he really is soft for you.

With his hands clutching the seats he picks up the pace. Each stroke drags his balls back and forth over your skin, your sternum deliciously hard beneath every inch of his cock while there is still blood oozing from the bite marks he left on your nipples.

“So pretty like that,” he rasps between thrusts, whining when he sees you pinching your nipples again. “Best tits I ever had. Best. Fucking. Tits.”

The tinted windows start fogging up, the air inside the car becomes stale. It doesn’t need the senses of a supernatural bloodsucker to smell it. The iron stench, the precum, the spit, the arousal leaking out of you while you're rubbing your legs together. You love the tender Max, who sometimes peeks through in silent moments, but you also love him like this: raw, messy, needy. The perfect excuse to be nasty yourself.

”Cum in my mouth, Maxie,” you breathe softly, already licking your lips. “Cum down my throat.”

He snarls, lips twitching to bare his fangs as he tries to not lose all of his restraint. He never told you, and never will, but this is the hardest part. To keep himself human enough when you are feeding into the beast he is. Especially now. With your fingers kneading your breasts, smearing your own blood on them, keeping them pressed together so he can fuck himself stupid between your tits.

“No,” is all he manages to spit out, his hips stuttering now. “Fuck, sugar tits. Gonna cum.”

He hears you clench, hears the soft squelch of your soaked panties cutting through your folds so you get some kind of pressure on your clit. He smells it. Smells whatever was left of his last load trickling out of you. Jesus fucking Christ, you didn’t even clean yourself up since last night?

That does it for him, and with a howl he spills himself on your chest. Pearly white mixing with the scarlet that’s already coating your skin, his cum spouting up to your neck and chin. Max keeps thrusting until the rush ebbs away. He swallows thickly, admiring his work that almost looks like a Jackson Pollock, painted on your tits. Signed by the artist himself, with bite marks all over them.

Pulling back and yanking your hands away so he can get to his second favorite part: cleaning up. Tasting himself and you. Gathering his spent first with his fingers and then his tongue, he starts licking and slurping, lapping broad stripes up from between the valley of your breast to your collarbones. Licking over your nipples, just because he loves them so perky and sore, cleaning up the last drops of your blood. Saving up a small pool of his now red tinted cum.

“Want some, sugar tits?” He looks up, eyes dark and shimmering, his lips and chin and cheeks having a wet sheen. You just nod your head, opening your mouth and waiting for his fingers, dipped in cum.

But he leans down instead, licking the last remains of his load into his mouth and moving up to hover over your face. He smirks, fucking smirks at you, wiggling his brows and then spits his cum into your waiting mouth.

You swallow him down, the distinct taste of both of you spreading on your tongue.

“Menace,” you murmur, your head lolling back onto the backseat. You need a moment. The thought of actually driving now lets you groan.

“Funny way of saying ‘thank you’,” he teases, his sharp edges softening a bit. “Here…”

He finds the wet wipes you have stored under the seats and starts cleaning you up, then he opens the wrapper of a granola bar and pops pieces of it into your mouth. “Your blood sugar is too low, sugar tits. You taste awful.”

“Funny way of saying you care about me.”

“Shut up. I don't,” Max hisses and scowls. And feeds you another piece of granola bar. “Just making sure my blood bag is kept alive.”

“Sure, Max,” you roll your eyes and close your bra and blouse with a few winces. He nudges your leg, bottom lip jutting out in a bratty pout.

“Sure, Maxie,” you correct and sit up.

His pout dissolves in a toothy grin.

“That's more like it. Now move your ass and do your job, sugar tits. Drive your boss home, chop chop.”

✨comment or reblog so Max calls you sugar tits, too. you know you want him to. 😌

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