RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader
STATUS: COMPLETE (55k words)
SUMMARY: 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.
OR: the ghost in your apartment wants you desperately.
read on ao3 | main masterlist | get notifs
ONE: ANNOUNCEMENT (chapter post)
TWO: INTRODUCTION (chapter post)
THREE: CONSIDERATION (chapter post)
FOUR: VISITATION (chapter post)
FIVE: RESURRECTION (part I) (chapter post)
SIX: RESURRECTION (part II) (chapter post)
☀️ bonus drabble: the 100th date
🦇 incredible artwork by @inkypaperghosts
👻 artwork of part one by @inkypaperghosts
SERIES CW: Smut, voyeurism/non-consensual voyeurism (he's invisible and reader doesn't know he's watching), discussions of death, and reference to/descriptions of canon-typical violence, blood, gore, and body horror. Descriptions of injury. Slow burn, eventual romance. Ghost shenanigans. Happy ending.
dividers by @saradika-graphics
NOTE: I have officially moved away from tag lists, so please follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!
Scotty Doesnt Know| Max Phillips x Fem!Reader (smut)
summary: youre max’s secretary/assistant who been helping him in more ways than one, behind your boyfriend’s back.
wc: 3k
Warnings: boss/employee power dynamic, cheating. workplace/office sex (unprotected p in v), mention of blood and blood sucking, side-effects of losing blood.
a/n: a max phillip fic based on Scotty Doesn’t Know by Lustra, this is for @chaotic-mystery’s wired for you and birthday celebration (happy birthday!!) first time watching this movie and writing for him.
"Yes, yes, we've managed to increase sales by 10% more than last month under my management. I aimed for more, but we may have to change our current employee situation and let a few slow ones go."
You listen to Max on the phone as you take him further into your mouth, sucking his cock. His hand press onto the back of your head as he talks unbothered, like you don't currently have his cock down your throat. You feel him push down more onto your head, forcing you to take him even deeper, making your eyes water as you choke around his dick, your nose against the brown hairs at the base of it. He lets out a soft groan. Your eyes flutter up to see Max leaning back on the black office chair, eyes closed, breathing heavily, and pretending to listen to his boss on the phone as his hand continues to move your head up and down his shaft. You hollow out your mouth as your head bobs up and down on his shaft. You're unsure how much of the lewd blowjob sounds the office phone is picking up, hoping, being under his desk, muffled most of it.
You have been sleeping with your boss for 3 months now. It started when you two were working alone one night, going over the finance, and you were "helping him" when you really didn't know shit about the finances. You left to get a coffee from the break room when Max joined you in the empty break room and fucked on the break room couch. You swore it was a one-time thing and wouldn't happen again. Then he ate you out on his desk, and it continued from then behind your boyfriend and coworker's, Scotty, back. It was going on three months of fucking your boss, you do plan on breaking up with Scott. Eventually. The right time just never came.
"Of course, sir, we're-"his soft groan cuts himself off. "Sorry, we definitely do have some very dedicated and talented employees here." he looks down at you as he speaks slowly, moving, giving you a wink. He lets you come off his cock, letting you take a minute to breathe. You feel his hand come to your lips, gently wiping the spit from them with his thumb.
"Okay, sir. I'll talk to you another time. Bye. " He hangs up the black phone and looks down at you, giving you a small smile as he runs his thumb over your lips.
"Now, back to actually important things." You move your hand around his shaft, jerking him off. You look up at your boss smiling before putting his cock back into your mouth, making Max moan.
"Should add this to your performance review. Amazing and motivating oral skill." Max teases, making you laugh, taking him out of your mouth, and shaking your head at him.
"You're ridiculous. You're lucky they didn't have the budget to buy those cameras Ted wanted." Max's hand lighting grabs your hands, making you stand up.
"Don't want to make a sex tape with me? I'm offended, I have the perfect title, "Boss Bangs Hot Employee." We could do it in the break room. I've seen that's a pretty popular place for office sex tapes." You laugh again, shaking your head at him.
"Of course you have." You feel him slowly guiding you to his desk, and you automatically bend over it. He slides his hand under your skirt, grabbing your ass over your pantyhose. You hear a small rip before you feel the fabric of your tights rip, exposing your black lace thong.
"I'm running out of pantyhose I can wear to work, Max! "Do you have to rip all of them?" You complain as he continues squeezing your ass for a little longer until he presses himself against you. You feel his bulge through his black pants, poking your ass.
"You can still wear them. No one will know, and it'll give me easy access. But I'll buy you more relax." He moves your hips, making you grind against him. "Speaking about that, I've been getting a lot of complaints about your attire piling up on my desk, baby girl." You move your ass over his pants. He pulls your thong down to your thighs. Moving his thumb against your clit slowly as he mentions your hr complaints. You let out a moan as you lean forward against his desk, spreading your legs and giving him better access to your wet core.
You have been testing the bounds of the office dress code lately, coming in with your short mini skirt, a few unbuttoned button-ups, and low-cut blouses.
"Have you really? Huh. Wouldn't know why?" You play dumb as he slowly turns you around, gently pushing you down until you sit on his wooden desk. He runs his hands up your stomach before unbuttoning your white blouse, exposing the matching lace bra to your lace black thong. Max's hands run over your tits, squeezing and groping them. He reaches to the back of the claps on your bra, takes it off, and tosses it over some files on his desk.
"You don't, huh? Well, we've gotten a few about these small skirts almost flashing the other employees when you bend over to put paper in the printer or distracting them as you lean over at your desk reaching for a pen, and these pretty tits almost spill out." You let out a small moan as he pinches your nipples, twisting them a bit and enunciating his point.
"You're lucky H.R. has to go through me to fire you, or they would've let you months ago, sweetheart." He turns you around, bending you over his desk, his hand on the small of your back. You hear his belt unbuckling as he pulls his cock out, not bothering to take his pants off. He runs his fingers down your wet folds.
"Maaaxxx" you whine pressing yourself against him, desperate for him to fuck you. He laughs, mocking you as he plants a smack against your ass.
"So bratty. If you want something sweetheart, you're gonna have to use your words. Or is that mouth only good for sucking my cock, huh?" He spanks you again,
"Please fuck me." It comes out low, barely audible, and you already knew he wasn't going to accept it.
You're only met with another spank on your ass harder than the last one, stinging, making you moan louder.
"Please, please fuck me, Max." You beg louder, hoping it was enough for him to get you what I want.
"Thats better, baby. Bet you don't beg Scott this badly to fuck you huh?" He slides his thick cock inside you, drawing out a moan from you.
"Aw, fuck baby you feel so fucking good baby." Max holds your hips, stretching your out on his cock filling you up; you moan as his large hands spread your ass, sliding out till it is just his tip, before slamming back inside you.
He was right. You didn't beg Scotty to fuck; Scotty barely fucks you. It's more like four sloppy thrusts in you, then finishes and rolling off of you. Mutters something like "youre the best", or "love you." Then he'd lazily kiss your cheek and lay down and go to sleep. Leaving you there in bed, horny and frustrated. You can't remember the last time your orgasm didn't come from your rabbit vibrator or your dildo. Until Max. The first time he ate you out on his desk you came so hard, seeing stars, leaving a mess all over the papers on his desk and he still fucked you. Max gives you orgasm after orgasm. On his desk, over his desk, in his office chair, in the breakroom. He'd try to convince you to fuck at the other cubicles, especially Scotty's just to fuck with him but you refused. You know it's wrong, but you couldn't give him up. Maybe it's part of his vampiric powers having a hold on you, controlling your mind. Or maybe it was just you, being unable to resist him.
He thrusts, fucking you from behind, are you bend over his desk, his files pushed to opposite sides of it leaving room for your body ininto you against the wooden desk, the way you needed, the way you boyfriend never does. You feel him deep as he runs his hands over your lower back
"Look at how good you take it, baby. This pussy belongs to me know huh, poor scotty doesn't even know it." You nod gripping his desk, pushing your hips back against his cock, as you moan his name loudly, taken advantage of being the only people in the office.
"Fuck Max! It's yours. It belongs to yous." you cry moaning as he fucks you
"Damn right about that baby. Fuck." he groans, gripping your hips tighter.
Suddenly intercepting the sounds of moans and skin slapping together, your phone goes off, ringing from the where you left it on Max's desk before you got on your knees to suck him off. You don't even hear at first, not until Max stops fucking you. You sit up, reaching for it while Max remains still balls deep inside you. You look at the incoming call screen glowing as it buzzes off the wooden desk.
Incoming Call: Scotty
You look at your boyfriend's name as it rings. You're about to decline when Max reaches and takes it out of your hand, looking to see who it was.
"Damn… not even boyfriend…or any heart emojis baby? Harsh." Max taunts before holding it up to your ear as he accepts it. Your eyes widen, speechless, not expecting him to answer it. You hear Scotty's voice over the phone, still feeling Max's cock inside you.
"H-Hello?" you answer as max continues fucking you holding your hips
"Hey, are you still working?" You pull the phone away from your mouth as a few moans slip out before placing it back.
"Yea…yes, um, I'm going over some spreadsheets and all that, um….you know Max really-fuck um- really hates me being on the phone when I'm on the clock." You try to compose yourself enough to not sound like you're getting your back blown out by your boss. You hear him talking about something or another, and you can't really focus. You move the phone away from your face again, turning back to Max, silently asking him to stop, at least until you hang up. Max smirk,s smiling as he slowly pulls out. You assume he's heard your silent plea and try to stand up straight when he hands push you down forcing you to stay as he lefts one of your leg up onto his desk, before inserting his cock inside you reaching that spot, to hitch deep inside you.
"OH MY GOD!" You shout, unable to conceal the moan any better. You flinch remembering who you were on the phone.
S-Scotty is this like life or death because I'm really fucking busy." You say rudely and pointed, your voice filled with annoyance.
"No, I just wanted to tell you that I'll be home late hanging out with boys tonight." It was strange that the he's planning on getting wasted on a wedesnday night, but in the moment the only think you can think about is Max's cock fucking deep inside you.
You sigh, rolling your eyes, nodding. "Sure, okay. Bye. " You hang up and go to set your phone on his desk when you see Max's hand grab it out of yours. He turns it off before slipping it into his pant pocket.
"Am I gonna have to start confiscating this thing, huh, baby? You know, hate when you're on your phone in the office." Max's voice going into your head, his condescing tone making you wetter, as he continues fucking you gripping your hips tightly.
You leave your desk near Max's office and walk over to the break room when your boyfriend Scotty comes up to you. He's actually the one who told you about the company as an intern, intending on getting a promotion to sales manager. The two of you would work your way up like a real corporate power couple. Of course, that was until max.
"Hey, I was thinking about going out again tonight. I'll probably be home late. But you've been working so late, too," he says, gently rubbing your arm. You nod, smiling a bit, as you hold your empty coffee mug.
"Yea, well, you know how Max is," you say vaguely as you look at him. "But can we maybe, um, actually talk about something I want to talk to you about?" You suggest, hoping he agrees, that you really have been planning on breaking up with him but never got the chance or have the right moment.
Scotty nods, not really paying attention. " Um... sure, not tonight, but maybe tomorrow or something we could—" Before your boyfriend could finish what he was implying, you hear your boss's voice behind you, appearing suddenly out of nowhere, like he often does.
"Trying to bang your girl on company time, Scott?" He asks in his familiar patronizing and condescending tone, looking at the two of you. A few moments of awkward silence before Max's laugh breaks it. "I'm just messing around. Well, partially, I can't have you getting some during company hours. If I let you two in, I have to let everyone, and we're not really going for a brothel." Max joked, smiling as he looked at Scotty before turning his attention towards you. "Go ahead and get your coffee, then head back to my office. I have calls I need you to make. Thanks, sweetheart."
Max starts to walk away before turning around to you two. " Remember, not on company time." He makes small thrusting motions before shaking his finger and going back to his office.
"Hes such an asshole. can't believe they chose him as our fucking manger." You look at Max as he goes to talk to Linda from marketing a few cubicles down, admiring how hot he is, how gorgeous his side profile is. You didn't even hear Scotty complaining. You finally snap out of it, nodding at whatever your boyfriend had said before mumbling about needing to get back to work.
You return to Max's office, closing the door behind you, and return to your work in Max's office.
A few hours later, you're watching the clock, watching as the small hand moves to the 6 while the big is on the 5. Finally, it's 5:30, and everyone is out of the office except you and Max. You look up from your computer, and Max is still on the phone with a different supplier.
"Who the fuck sell this shit anyway, god why couldn't I be the sales manger of anything else besides stupid shake weights." Max sighs, leaning back in his office chair with his hands over his face. Obviously annoyed and stressed. "Come here."
You walk over and sit on his lap, and he rubs your back before placing his lips on yours, softly kissing you for a moment.
"I skipped my lunch today." Max's finger drags slowly across your chest, unbuttoning the buttons on your black top slowly as he speaks. You wouldn't mind, would you, baby? " You shake your head, tilting your neck for him. Expecting him to sink his fangs into your neck like usually
"No, not at all," you tell him, but he feels your bra and pulls it down, shocking you a bit. You let out a moan as he leans down, sucking in your nipple.
"Fuck… Max." You look at the door, making sure no one is still in the office, before looking back at Max as his tongue swirls around your nipples. "I thought you said I was hungry?"
He nods, lifting his head as he squeezes your tits with his large hand, making you shudder a bit, moaning more. He leans down you see his fang project down as he bites your boob, just about your nipple, right over your heart, sinking them into your skin. You feel him drinking the blood from your chest. Feeling him press his face against your tit deeper. You're frozen, unsure what to do. You take another glance up at the door, making sure no one is there, before looking back down at Max. You hold the back of his head as drips of blood fall down your chest.
He has drunk your blood before many times. From your arm and your neck, but not from your chest and not while he was squeezing, rolling your other nipple between his fingers. Making you wetter, squeezing your thighs together trying to get some sort of relief from the ache between your thighs.
"Max," you moan, not knowing it would turn you on this much, that you'd enjoy him sucking blood from your boob this much, youre pretty positive he's over an artery from the pain that came once he peirced your skin but your concern is clouded my your arousal. Your eyes close as Max moves his hands under your skirt, sliding his finger underneath your panties.
"Max" you moan as he rubs his fingers along your folds, never moving his lips from your boob as he continues drinking your plasma, making your eyes roll back closed. He slips his finger inside you thrusting it in and out, for a few enjoying the way your hips roll and buck against his hand until you cum on his fingers, stifling a moan. He drinks more of you as you cum. You feel him remove his hands from between your thighs, then his fangs pull out from your chest. He lifts his head up, wiping your blood from his mouth. You stare into his red eyes, watching them return back to their gorgeous brown color, your chest moving fast as you try to process what just happened.
Max smiles before pulling you into a deep kiss you return, tasting your blood on his lips. He pulls away, but his hand remains on your neck.
"Did you know you taste sweeter when you cum, you heart rate increasing, more blood pumping, I've heard some other…my friend… say but its different when you experience it." he leans over grabbing a tissues to stop some blood that was starting to spill from your boobs, he holds it applying pressures as he reaching in his office drawer with the other hand taking out a band-aid, he has for the moments after drinking your blood.
"No-no…no Max, how would I know that…." you say quietly, slowly feeling light-headed. He holds your chin, looking at you closely.
"Sorry about that, baby girl. I probably took a few more pints than I should've. You tasted so…I just got caught in the moment." Max stands up, walking over to his mini fridge, opening it, and grabbing a bottled orange juice he also started keeping in his office. he goes back to you, untwisting the cap off. He slowly brings the bottle to your lips as you drink the orange juice. He holds the bottle still. He sets the bottle on his desk, slowly rubbing your back.
"Go ahead and go to the break room and take a few of the cookies; the sugar should help." You nod, listening to him, and leave, going to the break to grab a few of those cookies. You open the break room door expecting it to be empty. I mean, it's almost 6. Who else would be here this late?
You step inside, seeing you boyfriend, fucking another one your coworker against the counter. You freeze for a second. Scotty pulls his head from the neck of your coworker. You don't know what to say. You quietly just grab the plastic box of chocolate chip cookies you came in for.
"I just needed these, " you say, leaving but turning around and looking back. "Oh, and it's over, by the way." You go back into Max's office, a cookie in your mouth. Still dizzy but at least you don't have to worry about Scotty anymore, you smile popping another cookie in your mouth.
We get intense again today, I mean when isn’t bitey maxie in complete control. Weve all dreamed of this.
Synopsis:- Max brings more than intensity to an encounter where desire becomes all consuming.
Word Count:- 650
Warnings:- Ideally don’t read if you are under 18! vampire biting/blood drinking, sensual tension, dominant behaviour, possessive undertones, flirting, power dynamics, praise/manipulation undertones, supernatural intimacy, consensual biting, red eyes, Sith Lord comparisons.
Thanks for reading everyone. This one is a little different to the others but I think it will really grip some of you for the short read.
“You’re being a bit… much.”
The words come out slightly breathless, which doesn’t exactly help your point. Max doesn’t pull away. If anything, he lingers.
His mouth still at your neck, teeth just pressing enough to remind you they’re there, that he could, if he wanted to.
“Mmm,” he hums against your skin. “That didn’t sound like a complaint.”
“It was,” you insist, tilting your head just enough to give yourself space to breathe. “You’re just choosing to ignore it.”
“Correct.”
He lifts his head then, finally, eyes darker than they were a second ago, mouth curved like he’s enjoying this far too much.
“You said I could,” he adds.
“I said eventually,” you counter. “Not…whatever this is.”
He considers that for a beat. Then smiles.
“I’d call this enthusiasm.”
“I’d call it intense.”
“I am intense.”
You exhale a small laugh despite yourself. “Yeah. No kidding.”
There’s a pause. You look at him properly now, taking in the whole picture, too close, too smug, entirely too pleased with himself.
“You know what you’re like right now?” you say.
He raises an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”
“A Sith Lord.”
That gets a reaction. A small one,but it’s there.
“…a what?”
You blink. “Oh my god, seriously?”
“I’ve been busy for the last few hundred years ,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “Vampire. Remember?”
“You’re missing out.”
“Clearly.”
You fold your arms, leaning back just slightly. “Star Wars. Dark side. Power. Dramatic. A little bit…”you gesture toward him “…over the top. Wanting to stop the ones you love from dying… it all fits.”
He watches you for a second. Then his grin sharpens.
“I have great entrances.”
You stare at him. “That is not what I meant.”
“It could be.”
“It’s not.”
“Shame.” You shake your head, trying not to smile.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“& yet,” he says, stepping closer again, voice dropping just slightly, “you’re still here.”
That lands. You don’t move.
“…yeah,” you admit. “Because I promised this rather than just be devoured in one night.”
His gaze flicks to your throat again, like it’s taking real effort not to just go back to what he was doing.
“You promised you wouldn’t rush this,” you say, softer now. That slows him. Not completely. But enough.
“I’m not rushing,” he replies. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m… motivated.”
“That’s not better.”
“It is to me.” Of course it is.
You huff a quiet laugh, but there’s something else under it now. Something tighter.
“You’ve waited this long,” you point out. “You can wait a little longer.”
His head tilts, studying you.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for something like this?” he asks.
The shift is subtle, but it’s there. Less teasing. More real. You swallow, just slightly.
“…probably longer than my life, bet you say that to everyone though”
He huffs a quiet laugh at that, tension easing just a fraction.
“Fair.”
A pause settles between you. Then he steps closer again. Slower this time. More deliberate.
His hand lifts, brushing lightly along your jaw, thumb tracing just under your chin, guiding your gaze back to him.
“Tell me to stop,” he says quietly.
You don’t. Your breath catches instead.
His eyes flick between yours, searching, checking.
“You’re still a bit much,” you manage, voice softer now. His mouth curves.
“You like that.”
You hesitate.
“…unfortunately.” That’s all the answer he needs.
His grip shifts slightly, steady but not forceful, & he leans in again, slower this time, more controlled, like he’s making a point of it. Not rushing. Not quite. But not stopping either.
“Good,” he murmurs against your skin. “But” he then whispers “… if this is too much all you have to do is tell me to stop & I will”
You gulp & look as the red fills his eyes.
“I understand Max” & with that he sinks his fangs into your skin. Euphoria rushing through you both.
Summary: When your vampire boyfriend Max Phillips agrees to turn you, you enjoy one last day as a mortal.
WARNINGS: Rated T, reader is gender neutral, established relationship, some kissing and fluff (as fluffy as Max can get), mentions of vampirism and ways a vampire can be hurt/injured, mentions of blood drinking, one mention of "intimacy" but is not detailed, no gore, mentions of eating food, reader wears a hoodie but is otherwise not described, use of hypnotism, mentions of being bitten, no use of y/n.
Author's Note: This work is for the jolabrew + withcheese fall challenge 🧡 I chose Max Phillips and apple picking 🍎
I'd kept this idea on the very, very back burner because honestly I love the mythology about vampires, and I wanted a soft!Max story, just to shake things up, and this fic challenge helped kickstart that idea into motion. There was absolutely zero information on our guy Max, so I just kind of messed with the lore and added some good ol' vampire myths just for fun 😊 Also, "Total Eclipse of the Heart" was meant to be a vampire love song, hence the title I used 🖤 (Side note: if you don't already squeeze lemon on your apple slices I highly suggest it. It keeps them from turning brown and gives them a little sour bite if you don't like them too sweet)
Thank you to @jolapeno and @goodwithcheese for hosting this lovely challenge!
divider by @strangergraphics👑
Honestly, you made your choice two seconds after Max told you he was a vampire. There were no two ways about it: if he was one, you wanted to be one too.
"Honey.. you need to think about this seriously. It's not some knee-jerk decision. We're talking about the rest of your life.. or afterlife.. unlife?.. that's at stake here."
"You'll outlive me one day," you reminded him. "I don't want that to happen." You snuggled against him, feeling how warm he was, though now that he'd revealed his secret, you started to feel the cold that seeped through his skin, was ever-present in the physiology that still made him a human male, but also something else.. some preternatural creature that was just under the surface. Hiding.. or suppressed.
"I try not to think about that. I haven't been undead that long," he admitted. "Can't we be happy with what we have now?"
It stung, but you tried not to take it too personally. Max was the type to say whatever thought flitted across his brain, be it snarky or sweet, though around others it typically tended towards the former.
From then on, once he knew you would keep his secret, once he put that trust in you that he didn't place in anyone else, you had so many (too many) questions to ask, and Max was as open as he could be regarding your curiosity. Yes, he could walk around in the daytime, but it was a necessity to slather himself in the highest grade SPF that he could only purchase online from a small business in Romania and cost ten times as much as you made in an hour at your job. And it explained why he always had a scent of coconuts beneath the layer of Tom Ford cologne he practically bathed in.
There were some things that could kill him, primarily a stake through the heart. Garlic and holy water made his eyes water and skin burn, temporarily subduing his powers, and you understood why he dissuaded you from eating Italian food when you started dating.
Speaking of the powers (and that was a huge point of curiosity for you), he had strength, speed, hypnosis (although he preferred the term 'powers of persuasion' -- ever the salesman, that one.) Drinking blood powered him, made him strong, and he managed to drink a little to get him through the day, only succumbing to his deeper cravings after hours.
It was this part he didn't want to talk about. He didn't like you thinking of him prowling after his prey, planning his attack, taking what he needed from unsuspecting victims. He'd drunk from you during moments of intimacy, the small, sweet sting of his fangs was something you'd come to like, but you knew it had to be different for those he hunted. You could paint your own picture of such a scenario-- you'd seen enough movies and read enough Anne Rice and Charlaine Harris to put the pieces together of how he had to survive in the shadows.
If anything, it only further endeared him to you.
But when you'd try to press the issue all he did was sidestep it.. at first. When you were persistent he was firm, telling you in no uncertain terms, "No."
"Do you not think I have what it takes?" you'd asked.
"Babe, I don't doubt your ability--"
"Do you just want to keep all your vampiric secrets to yourself?"
He'd sputtered out a laugh despite trying to keep a serious facade. "You're being ridiculous now."
"Then.." you'd used your puppy dog eyes on him, "you don't love me?"
He'd taken your face in his hands, his gaze insistent. "Don't say that. Ever. Okay?" He'd kissed your forehead, taking in the scent of you, just at your hairline.
You'd been patient, dropping hints until one day you'd stopped, a part of you giving up.
But Max didn't like seeing you unhappy.
"All right, all right," he'd relented one night, during a viewing of American Psycho while hanging out at your place. "If you really want me to turn you, I'll do it."
"Max, you will? Really?" you'd beamed with excitement.
"Yes, sweetheart. If you really want it, I'll do it for you."
You'd pounced on him, kissing him as he pulled you down on the sofa with him, the sounds of Patrick Bateman chasing his victim with a chainsaw playing in the background.
You decide on a date: mid-October, your favorite time of year when the leaves crackle underfoot, and there's the sweet odor of chimney smoke in the air. Max tells you you should spend the last day of your human life doing whatever you want to do, and though it's something small, though it probably ranks low on most people's list of priorities before they begin a new life as a vampire, you tell him you want to go apple picking.
A part of you is relieved that Max doesn't poke fun at you, which he usually does when you tell him you want to watch Dead Poets Society instead of The Wolf of Wall Street, or when you'd rather go on the Ferris wheel than the Zipper with him at the carnival.
You typically play it safe, and he respects your playing it safe with your last day as a mortal, because he loves you.
The apple orchard is an hour and a half away, and Max holds your hand over the center console during the entire drive, letting you choose the radio station, and you spot the small twitch of his eye when you turn up the volume on a Taylor Swift song. He keeps his thoughts to himself but his opinion is written plain on his face. Ever the peacemaker, you switch the radio to an oldies station, listening to Bonnie Tyler belting out "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and even though Max refuses to sing along with you, a smile curves the corners of his pretty mouth as he indulges in your joy.
Upon arrival you jump out before the car is even in park, and are greeted with the scent of the sweet and crisp fragrance of the orchard. The skies above are pale blue, tinged with gold from the late afternoon sun's delicate rays. Grey threatens in the corners of the firmament, and you recall checking your phone's weather app and seeing there would be rain that night. You've come on the right day.
Max grabs your hand as you join the others in line, some families with young kids, some couples, and when he's not expecting it you plant a soft kiss on his cheek. Not typically one for PDA, he one-ups you by taking you in his arms and practically bending you backward in a passionate display of romance, lips claiming yours. "My baby doesn't deserve to wait in line," he whispers, and with a devilish grin he pulls you to the front of the line where the cashier is taking payment.
"We don't need to pay," Max tells her, and from the look in the woman's eyes you can tell he's mesmerizing her with his powers.
"You don't need to pay," she repeats in a monotone, handing over a wicker basket for you to collect the apples.
Max smiles at her charmingly, pulling you along as you enter the apple orchard.
There's a chill in the air as you walk into the wide expanse of land, the green of the apple trees and the ruby fruit of their production providing the perfect backdrop for your date. You cross your arms over your hoodie just as Max puts his arm around you.
"I'll never get cold, just like you," you wonder aloud, thinking ahead to your immortal life.
"Right. One of the perks," he grins. He's wearing a dark grey nylon bomber jacket, hair perfectly coiffed, and even though other people are checking him out as you walk by, he only has eyes for you. "You'll never grow old, either. You'll still be hot. Like me," he grins.
"Which ones look good?" he asks, directing your view to the apples red and ripe, swelling with sweetness, their tangy aroma dancing in the air.
You look up and select a few, holding each one in the palm of your hand before twisting the stem off and placing it in the basket looped around your arm. Max watches you, in awe of your thought process, and the careful way in which you make your selections. When the basket gets too heavy he carries it for you.
"Are you going to eat all of these tonight?" he hides a smile.
"Don't underestimate me," you tell him. "I might just do that."
He envisions what your blood will taste like later, at the time of your turning: bitter with hints of spice and sweet, the flavor inhabiting every blood vessel, flooding into his mouth as he begins the process of forever changing you.
Soon the basket is brimming over with sweet, tart apples. Some of them fall out of the basket on the walk back to the car, leaving a scarlet dotted trail behind you.
At home, you gorge yourself on the crisp flesh of your fresh-picked apples in all your favorite forms: sliced plain with a drizzle of lemon juice, some dipped in caramel, others covered in crunchy red candy. Your lips are sticky and sweet when Max kisses you, savoring the warmth of your skin that, come tomorrow, will be colder, room temperature at best, but still soft, still delicious.
"Are you ready?" he asks, his eyes glinting, irises blown full black, like a shark detecting blood in the water around him. You're settled on the sofa, hands linked, fingers intertwined as your heart races. Max senses it and his tongue flicks out across his pink lips.
"Yes," you answer, and for a brief, sweet moment your life flashes before your eyes, a memoriam to all the things you held dear, the good and the awful, the trail of tiny moments, the heartbreaks you thought you'd never heal from, that ultimately led you to Max and the love you uncovered within him as you broke through his egotistical outer shell.
You kept his promise. He knows his trust is well-placed.
As you offer your neck, the last thing you see before you close your eyes is the Castlevania poster Max gave you for Christmas last year, hanging on the wall above the sofa.
Only the death matters now..
You hear the click of his fangs protracting. Soon you'll be just like him. You have no regrets.
"Thank you, Max," you whisper before you feel the hot sting of his bite on your tender throat. "Thank you for the best day of my life."
This was a mistake.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was just supposed to feed, have a little fun on the side...
But he got greedy.
He got needy.
Warnings/Tags: possible dub/non-con sexual relationship - I try to make it clear Reader wanted it and that Max did not use his powers for sex but it's still iffy, brief mention of blood drinking, sexual harassment in the workplace (of course it's Max), brief mention of female masturbation, brief mentions of a sexual relationship, nothing explicit, angst, breaking up, Max whammy's reader || Only descriptors of Reader: fat, able-bodied || Dividers by: @thecutestgrotto || Tagging to add to the databases: @littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @pedrostories || Written For: @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Challenge, I got pining, and I hope I did it justice?
Max lifts his head, nose twitching. The scent of pears and jasmine fills his nose as he searches out his office window.
She's here.
He hadn't seen her in days, hadn't visited her, trying to get her out of his system, which was hard when they worked in the same building. He grabbed his coffee mug and left his office, following her scent.
This is a mistake, he thinks to himself. Should just sit my ass back down and let her do what she's here to do and then she'll leave.
She's across the office, giving a packet to the new hire, Emil, something or other. Max growls as he hears her laughing at something the young man says. He watches as she reaches out and touches his arm; Max can hear her heartbeat speed up a bit, thudding in her gorgeous chest.
The only man she should be laughing with was him, the only man she should be touching was him, he should be the only one making her heart beat like that.
This was a mistake.
He stalks to the break room, tops off his coffee, and pours a bit of blood from his flask into it, making it more palatable.
“--and you can just bring it up to me on the twelfth floor when you're all done with them.” She enters the room, Emil trailing behind her like a puppy dog.
“So, I bring them straight to you?” he asks, eyes practically making heart shapes at her, and Max grunts.
She turns, “Oh! Mr. Phillips, hello.” She nods at him, her heart beating faster under her white shirt. She looked beautiful today with her brown pleated skirt that flowed over her curves, navy blazer, and little strappy brown heels on her feet.
“I've told you, sweetheart, call me Max.” He lifts his mug to her and takes a drink, then holds his hand out towards Emil. “Max Phillips.” The smell of fear rolls off the man, replacing the scent of his arousal. Good.
“Emil Rob--”
“Right, right, the new guy. Better get to work there, don't wanna be caught slacking by the boss, and get fired on your first day.” He winks at the man, holding back a chuckle as Emil stammers an apology and practically runs out of the room back to his desk, leaving him alone with her.
This was a mistake.
“Mr. Phillips,” she chides, turning her twinkling eyes to him. “That was mean.” She crosses her arms over her ample chest, and the scent of her intoxicating arousal fills the room, overpowering her perfume.
He wanted to just lock the break room door and go feral. Lift her plump body on the counter and fuck her until every person on this floor knew what she sounded like screaming his name. It takes all his supernatural power to hold back.
This is a mistake.
“What, no, I don't think so.” He holds his hand over his still heart, pretending to be hurt and making her laugh.
You reach out and place your hand on Max's forearm, and then quickly withdraw it and clear your throat. He was your co-worker, what you had with him in your dreams was not real life, no matter how much you wanted it.
“Well, I just came down to give Mr. Roberts his welcome packet, I better get back up to HR now.”
“Let me walk you up.”
Be trapped in the elevator with him? When all you wanted was to fuck him silly? “You really don't have to do that sir-”
“I'm headed to the thirteenth floor anyway to discuss something with Langley.”
You sigh and nod, Max was very persistent when he wanted something. “Alright, who am I to argue?” You can feel your heart thudding in your chest, and you hope Max can't hear it.
This is a mistake, you say to yourself, looking up into Max's face as he smiles down at you. A genuine smile, not one of the smug cocky ones that's often on his face.
“Good girl, come on.” Max opens the door, ushering you out with his mug.
There he is, You fake gasp and smile softly as you pass him, then lean close to him and whisper, “Mr. Phillips, do you need to take another sexual harassment class?”
“Oh come on,” he says, grinning at you. “It wasn't like that.”
But you could never tell with Max. He was flirtatious with all the women, and you were surprised when he turned his gaze - and flirty actions - your way. Men like Max didn't look at women like you, much less flirt and be friendly if you didn't have an attractive friend by your side whose pants they were trying to get into.
Max follows you to the elevators and leans against the wall as you press the ‘up’ button. “Your car giving you any more trouble?”
The question throws you back to months ago. It was raining, your car had suddenly stopped working in the parking garage, and you were waiting outside for the bus without an umbrella. Max pulled up in his very expensive car, and wouldn't take no for an answer - your knight in shiny black Lexus. He drove you home, blasting his heater, and walked you up to your apartment.
That's when the dreams started. Your crush on Max was small before that day, but then the sex dreams started a week later, nearly nightly, making your crush on the man grow exponentially.
“No! It's so weird, it was working the next day and I took it to my mechanic and he couldn't find anything wrong with it.” The elevator dings and opens, revealing an empty car. Max lets you get in first and follows close behind. So close behind you catch a whiff of his cologne, lime mixed with something earthy. You noticed it the first time you met, you thought the earthy scent made sense, but the lime always threw you off.
“Huh, that is weird.” Max sips his coffee, puts his hand in his pocket, and rocks back on his heels. “You been doing alright?”
“Huh? Me?”
He waves his mug around the car. “Don't see anyone else here, sweetheart.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, I've been well.” You nod. “Finally all caught up on House of the Dragon.”
“Yeah? Maybe one day we can sit and chat about it.” The elevator jerks slightly and dings, the doors sliding open.
“Oh, sure, one day. Um, thanks for walking me up... Max.”
“See, that wasn't so hard.”
That was a mistake.
Max paces the elevator car as it heads back down to his floor. He tries to fight off his body's reaction to her, but the small amount of blood from breakfast and his coffee all went to his cock on the short ride up. Thankfully, it wasn't a lot of blood so he was just sporting a chubby that no one would notice if he kept his hand in his pocket.
He thinks back to the day he drove her home - after maybe sabotaging her car so he could get close to her. She had cut herself with scissors on his floor, and the scent of her blood...
He takes a deep shuddering breath.
This was a mistake.
He had needed her right then and there; clenching his hands so tight his nails cut little crescent marks into his palms before slipping down to the garage and poking around her car.
He walked her up, asked if he could use the restroom real quick, and then he was officially ‘welcome anytime’ to her place, and he took her up on that offer every chance he could get.
It started with slipping into her apartment to feed, which morphed into sex when he read her dirty thoughts about him at work - smelt her arousal on her whenever they were alone, which morphed into...
This was a mistake.
He snarls. He wanted her again. He didn't even want to feed on her, he just wanted to touch her, feel her, hold her. He just spent weeks avoiding her, trying to get her out of his system, and he fucked it up by spending just five minutes with her.
She was torturing him and didn't even know it.
It was torture seeing him again. You've been trying to avoid him the past few weeks, embarrassed at your body, mind, and heart's reaction to him. To the thoughts and dreams you had. To the way you felt.
You haven't had a dream since the last time you saw him, and you thought avoiding him was your answer. But then there he was in the break room as you took Emil there for a quick chat... and you were done for.
Drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
Breathing him in on the ride up, sitting at your desk thinking about him, then running to the bathroom and awkwardly rubbing one out in a tiny stall, leg hitched up in the toilet, balancing dangerously - hoping your foot wouldn't slip and land in the toilet.
Then coming home and pulling out your vibrator that best mimicked his cock - or you know, the one your subconscious dreamt up - and pulling several orgasms from your body as you screamed out his name.
But as you lay staring up at your ceiling, chest heaving and covered in sweat, you can't stop thinking about how much you love him.
Which is silly! You don't love him, not the real him anyway, just the one in your dreams.
The one who came over after you had to fire Jane. She made one mistake, she needed the job as a single mother with a sick kid, and you didn't want to, but that was your job. It has killed you to call her into your office. But dream Max had sat here, held you as you sobbed, pet your head, and made soothing noises while you complained of life not being fair.
The one who brought you soup and cold medicine when you were sick, who laid with you as you slept off and on in bed, held your hair back when you puked, and helped you bathe.
But that man was just a figment of your imagination. The whole ‘relationship’ was.
Max was just your co-worker. Your devilishly handsome, flirtatious, co-worker.
I shouldn't be here. This is a mistake, Max thinks, knocking on her door and leaning his forehead next to it. Listening to her heartbeat through the wall as she gets closer and closer, feels her confusion as she sees him on the other side of the door.
The door clicks open. “Max?” she says his name breathlessly, and he hits her with the whammy.
The whammy of the life he made for them, the life he wanted with her, of caring for her when she needed him, of coming home to a warm meal and a loving partner.
The nights filled with passionate lovemaking were all her, he never made her want that, he just made her comfortable enough to initiate. He didn't think that made him bad, it was like a confidence boost. She wanted it, he saw it in her heart and brain, she just needed... help. She still had the ability to say no, and she said it a rare few times, and he stopped.
Then her smell hits him. Her release between her thighs, the sweat covering her body under her long sleep shirt, the endorphins her body releases with her orgasm. A smell he knew all too well.
“Max?” she says again, tentatively placing a hand on his forearm. “Are you alright?”
“I missed you,” the words leave his mouth without permission and he wishes he could take them back, no matter how true they were. He wishes he could take back coming here, even leaving his office this morning.
This is a mistake.
But she looks at him with her big doe eyes filled with tears. “I missed you too Max. Would you like to come in?”
He should say no, clear her mind of him, of everything they've done the past few months, but his traitorous mouth has other plans.
“I'd love to.” And he steps into her apartment.
You just stare at him, you haven't seen him in weeks, and here he is, standing in the middle of your living room. You just wanted to throw your arms around him and weep against his chest, tell him how much you really missed him, tell him how much you loved him. But instead, you wrap your arms around yourself.
“What are you doing here Max?” your voice is small as you hold back your tears. Weeks without a word, a sighting, then he pops up this morning at the office and now at your home. “I haven't seen you in-”
“I know.” He takes a step towards you, his hand reaching out slightly before he pulls it back, stuffing both in his pockets. “I missed you.”
“You said that already.”
“I-I know, but I've really missed you, sweetheart.”
“I haven't gone anywhere,” you laugh sadly. He was the one who stopped coming by, who wouldn't take a meeting with you when you were trying to find out what was going on, and he avoided you each time you were on his floor...until today. “I came to see you, after that first week. You didn't acknowledge me, Max.” You feel the first tear trickle down your cheek. “Then you avoided me, didn't come over, didn't call... So why now? Just need a booty call?”
“No!” He growls and runs his hand through his hair and starts pacing in front of you. “I don't know! It wasn't supposed to be like this! It was just supposed to be a little fun, get my needs met-” Your heart breaks into tiny little pieces as he talks. “But you, ugh, fucking you! You did something to me.” He walks up to you and cradles your face in his big hands, swiping your tears away with his thumbs. “I wasn't supposed to love you,” he says gently with a soft laugh.
“Max...” More tears fall and your lip quivers.
“I tried to flush you from my system. I don't fall in love!” His hands drop and he steps away. “But every time I see you, hear you, smell you, you pull me back in. I'm drowning in you every day.”
“I love you too.” The words tumble from your lips, and you take in a shuddering breath. “I love you, Max!” you say more firmly, closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.
He didn't compel her to love, just to let him in, her apartment, her veins, her bed... but he looks into her mind and sees that it's true. His arms enfold her softness, eyes closing as he squeezes her to him and breathes her in, listening to her heart rate slow as she calms from his touch.
This is a mistake.
“I'm sorry,” he murmurs into her hair.
She tilts her head back and looks at him. “What for?”
“For doing this to you. Sweetheart, I'm not a good man, you deserve someone much better than me.” Someone who has the same lifespan as you, who will grow old with you, give you a family, and won't move you around constantly. He thinks silently.
“Don’t-” her voice wobbles as she lets go of him and steps out of his embrace. “Don't tell me what's best for me! Only I get to decide that! We love each other Max! Don't we deserve this?!” She looks up at him with wet eyes and then turns away sharply, a sob escaping from her as her thoughts of him using her to get his rocks off wash over him.
“Stop, look at me.” He pushes power into his voice and watches as her face blankly turns back to him. He wants to grab her face, kiss her, forget what he was doing and just spend the night with her.
But he can't, it hurts too much.
“You are a gorgeous woman and any man would be lucky to have you, and you deserve the best man,” his voice falters and he takes a deep breath. “Do not settle. Demand a promotion at work, ask out the FedEx guy, and be confident, sweetheart. Don't let people treat you like garbage.” He takes a step back from her and turns on his heel, placing his shaking hand on the doorknob and looking back at her. “Forget about me, about us. You're gonna go to bed here in a minute and have a lovely dream about the FedEx guy, and you'll wake up and won't even remember my name.” Then he turns the knob and walks out; shutting the door behind him and begins to cry.
That was a mistake.
You wake up the next morning refreshed, that was the best sleep you had in months, accompanied by a very spicy dream about the FedEx guy who's always delivering to your building.
After a cold shower, you dress in a body-hugging dress, which might not be completely appropriate for work, but they'll live. Today you were asking for a promotion. You've been there for so long, your work has always been exemplary, and you deserve it.
You walk into work with your head high, heels clicking on the marble as you cross the lobby, and then stop when you see him.
The FedEx guy.
Ok, deep breaths. Squaring your shoulders, you stand up straight and walk over to him as he grabs the clipboard from Holly behind the desk.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes?” He turns his pretty brown eyes to you, and a quick flash of another face superimposes over him. You shake your head and blink, opening your eyes to his face and introducing yourself.
“David Hodgins,” he says to you and holds his hand out to you to shake. “Twelfth floor, HR, right?” He smiles, and leans against the desk, looking you up and down.
“Yeah, I'm surprised you remember me. You must deliver to thousands of people.”
He leans forward and smiles. “Would be hard to forget you.”
Your face heats up, but you smile bigger. “Would you like to get a drink with me after work? Say about six o'clock at The Trophy Club?” You blurt before you chicken out and mentally cross your fingers.
He nods. “Six o'clock at The Trophy Club. It's a date, sweetheart.” Oh. Ow. You rub at the small pang in your chest when he calls you sweetheart, as he walks out of the lobby.
“Wow, good job, honey,” Holly says with a smile. “You deserve it, he's got a nice little tuchus on him.” You turn and watch him leave, his black slacks hugging his ass.
“Thanks, now let's hope my luck lasts, gonna go ask Langley for a promotion.”
“Fingers crossed, babe! At least you'll have a handsome pair of shoulders to cry on if you don't get it!”
Making your way to the elevators, the phantom smell of limes washes over you, and that pang in your chest aches again.
Warnings: Human Max, sexism in the the workplace, insults, bickering, drinking, sexual harassment, mentions of drugging, drunk sex, impaired decision making but everyone consents, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cream-pie, angst, oral sex (male and female receiving), confessions
Comments: Your morning show co-host, Max Phillips drives you mad. Constantly annoying you and bickering with you. At the Cupid's Ball, the weekend before Valentine's Day, you get a little drunk and do something incredibly stupid. Sleep with him.
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!
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.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
You groan, rolling over to slam your hand down on top of your alarm clock.
It reads 3 am.
“Fuck.” You huff, feeling exhausted after staying up late last night to talk to your agent, and you regret it now. There’s no choice to snooze, you need to get up.
Moaning as you force yourself out of your comfy bed, you stumble into the bathroom, turning on the light, and it’s bright enough to make you wince. “God.” You whine, palming your face. Every day, you’re closer to being replaced by some teeny bopper with perky tits and an annoyingly high-pitched voice. You pee and brush your teeth before you start your morning routine. Treadmill. Weights. Protein shake. Shower. Get dressed.
The car pulls up outside your apartment building on time, and you get in to meet your producer, and she starts to ramble about the segments for the show.
You listen to her half-heartedly but stare out of the window. The street lights reflect as they twinkle overnight without anyone but you and a tired few to admire them.
When you arrive at the studio, you’re ushered inside and to your dressing room to get started on the exhausting daily routine of getting ready for TV.
Your makeup artist is putting on your lipstick when there’s a knock on the door.
“Goooood morning Vietnammmmm!” He shouts with enough energy to make you want to punch his stupid face.
“Max.” You huff, turning your head to see him swagger into your dressing room with his designer bespoke suit.
“You ready for the Coleman interview? You sure you’re up to it?” He tuts, leaning over you as he checks out his reflection in the mirror.
“I think if one of us is prepared and able to interview a woman who survived sexual assault at the hands of a powerful man, it’s me. If you did it, she’d be traumatized all over again.” You scoff, crossing your arms.
Max snorts, “whatever, princess. Just don’t make us look bad.” He says, and you roll your eyes, “It’s not me who makes us look bad. You’re the one who flirts with anything that has a pulse.”
Your co-host leans in, a smirk on his face as he meets your eyes in the mirror, “I think you’re just jealous that I never flirt with you…off air.” He adds, his eyes narrow slightly, and you push him away from you.
“In your fucking dreams, Phillips.” He chuckles, and you want to slap him, but he has already been in the makeup chair and Shelly would kill you if your handprint ruined her work.
Max chuckles again, slowly backing out of your dressing room, but he turns to look at you and says, “see you on the stage, wifey.” He teases and you growl under your breath.
You and Max are the darlings of morning news. The Daily News Show. You’re the “husband and wife” of daytime TV. You aren’t together. No, fuck no. You are both painfully single, unable to hold down a relationship when the show is your entire life. You live and breathe the news. Max has his liaisons, as detailed in every gossip mag from New York to L.A, but you’re the good girl. You could never get away with what he manages to do. You are held to a higher standard and it’s bullshit. You were called a “slut” when you went out with three men in six months. Max has ten flings - barely a weekend each - and he’s revered as “daytime’s most eligible bachelor.”
You exhale shakily, trying to control your hatred towards Max before you go on air and put on your persona as the loving “TV wife.” You close your eyes and focus until Jimmy, the AD, comes in to tell you that it’s time to get on set. You nod, standing up to make your way through the halls to the set and Max is already sitting at the desk when you arrive. Shelly comes over to dust your face with setting powder and the producers are going over the segments one last time.
“Right, everyone. Thirty seconds to live.” The director announces, headset on, and you swallow harshly, getting yourself in the zone.
“Don’t fuck up.” Max murmurs and you turn your head to glare at him.
“You’re the only fuck up here, Phillips.” You hiss back and he chuckles, “at least I’m getting fucked. How long has it been again…? Last one was…that dude from Fallon?” He reminds you of your ex who was a writer over on The Jimmy Fallon Show.
“Your last one still asleep in your bed?” You spit back, “you even get her name?” You ask and Max frowns.
“Jessica? No, Jamie. No…shit.” He shakes his head and you roll your eyes.
“As we are live in ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…” The director lowers his fingers to be silent and then you straighten up and plaster a smile on your face.
“Good morning and welcome to The Daily News Show.” You introduce yourself with a grin.
“And I’m Max Phillips. It’s three days until Valentine's Day. Are you ready for the day?” Max asks you as per the teleprompter and you chuckle, “is anyone ready? Our friends over at Saks have some ideas for last-minute gifts later on in the show. Max, did you already get my present?” You question him teasingly like the TV wife you are.
“Of course.” He responds like it’s obvious, “I couldn’t not get my gorgeous co-host something special.” He winks and you internally scoff at his slimy smile.
“I guess I’ll have to wait and see what you got me.” You giggle and turn back to look at the camera, “let’s take a look at your morning forecast.”
You go off air while the weatherman takes over and Max leans in, “did you get me a present?” He asks and you snort, “you’re lucky I put up with you.”
Max chuckles, “well, at least we got the Cupid’s Ball tonight.” You groan softly under your breath, having forgotten that was tonight.
You have to go. You need to go. But you desperately want to curl under your duvet with a glass of wine and forget that you will be spending Valentine’s Day alone.
****
You tug on the hem of your skirt as you walk through the hall to the bustling private area of a skyscraper restaurant that overlooks the city where the party is being held. You feel ridiculous in the short red dress your stylist had picked for you, styled with a pair of heels that make you question if they belong in a torture room in the rings of hell. They are insanely uncomfortable and you’re reminded again of why you wish you were back at home curled up on your sofa with a glass of wine watching rom-com movies and shoving chocolate in your mouth. You inhale deeply before you make your way into the room.
Leaning against the bar, Max is already a few drinks in, bored out of his mind and questioning why he has to attend these things. No one wants to talk to him, they want to talk to his morning show personality. The Cupid’s Ball is an annoying reminder that despite his popularity, no one was special in his life. At least no one that he really wanted. Taking a sip of his drink, he nearly chokes when he sees you walk into the room. The blood red dress calls to him and he smirks as he puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly across the floor, catcalling you obnoxiously.
You roll your eyes and make a beeline to the bar where Max is, greeting people who are half drunk along the way. “You have one too many or you trying to make me doubt myself in this dress?” You question Max, trying to figure out his motive. You feel itchy in the dress now as his dark eyes trail along your form.
Max chuckles and waggles his brows suggestively. “You did get me a present.” He jokes. “Now put it on the floor where it belongs.” He knows that the network wouldn’t be happy with a sexual harassment lawsuit, but you wouldn’t file one of those. You enjoy cutting him down with scathing retorts too much. “Drink first, fuck later? Or fuck now, drink later?” He asks, offering you his own glass.
You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head, “in your fucking dreams, Phillips.” You huff and he chuckles, “if only you knew…”
You shake your head and push his glass away, “knowing you, you probably roofied it.” You call the bartender over and order a Cosmo, wanting to enjoy the evening even if your co-star insists on annoying you to death. “What are you doing hanging by the bar? No pretty interns to harass?”
“Why harass interns when I can harass you?” He gives you a hurt pout and takes his drink back and takes a sip of it to prove that he hasn’t done anything to it. “Besides, if I didn’t bother you, you would think that I was body snatched.” He snorts and looks out over the throng of people filing in.
You snort, “that’s true. I would think you’d been abducted by aliens if you didn’t make my life hell every day.” You thank the bartender for your drink. “To being painfully single because we made our careers our lives.” You toast as you hold your drink towards him.
Max lifts his glass in salute and snorts. “You’ve still got time, sweet cheeks.” He tells you. “You can put those birthing hips to use.” He smirks when you glare at him and shrugs. “What? You don’t want to have rugrats attached to the tit?” His eyes drop to your chest. “Pity.”
Your eyebrows raise, “and you are thinking about reproducing? Good God. The world couldn’t cope with a miniature Max Phillips.” You chuckle and shake your head, “besides…you’re lucky. You could knock up every woman from New York to L.A and you would keep your job. Me? I’d be out the door as soon as I peed on a test.” You take a sip of your drink and shift from one foot to another, unused to this kind of talk directed at you from Max. Usually he’s boasting about his conquests and how much better he looks on camera.
“In the year of our lord, 2024?” Mad huffs and shakes his head. “No. The network would exploit it. Have ‘baby and me’ segments.” In reality, the only way the network would do that is if their hand was forced, but Max isn’t willing to give up his co-host. Despite your attitude towards him off camera, the public loved you two together. “All you’d have to do is announce it on air and tell viewers the special segments to come. A taped sonogram. Let our morning show viewers fall in love with the little brat.”
“The only way they’d do that is if it was our baby and to do that, we’d have to have sex and I know that you prefer them pliable and dumb.” You glance around the room, spotting the producers laughing together and the execs making a short experience before they helicopter out to their mansions.
Max scoffs. “That would never happen.” He agrees, although there’s a frown on his face as he turns back to the bar. “Better that we focus on our careers, right? That will keep us warm when we’re in our nursing homes.” He chuckles. “When we turn forty-five.”
“You’re closer to that than me, old man.” You taunt him, “forty this year. You gonna be able to handle getting older?” You nudge him, knowing that he prides himself on his looks and Devil May care attitude.
He shoots you a dirty look before glancing at the mirror behind the bar. “Don’t look a day over thirty-four.” He huffs before looking at you with a smirk. “Must be all the endorphins from sex.”
You can’t deny that he looks good. He always looks good. Must be the pussy and Botox he gets on the sly. “You gonna come out of my cake at my party like Marilyn Monroe?” Max asks and you shake your head, “no way, Phillips.” You snort and down the rest of your drink, gesturing for the bartender to get you another one. “Didn’t even know you were planning a party.”
He pouts at you again, looking hurt. “If I don’t throw myself a party, who would?” He asks, rolling his eyes. “Not like you would throw me one. You don’t even want to go out for that drink after work like I keep asking you to.”
You huff, turning to face him after you thank the bartender for setting your drink down. “Because it’s just to - to mock me. You don’t like me. I’m not your friend. We act like we like each other on tv but that’s it. I have a face for radio, remember?” You remind him of what he said to you the first day you met five years ago.
Max stares at you for a second and then laughs. Bending over the bar and laughing so hard tears come to his eyes. “You thought I meant that?” He gasps out, looking over at you and laughing again. “Sweetcheeks- that was- I was yanking your fucking chain.” He admits, calming down enough to speak. “You’re fucking gorgeous and you know it. Charming, witty. The whole package.”
You stare at him, shocked at his outburst. He’s flirted with you, especially on screen, but to hear him say he thinks you’re gorgeous…it takes you back. You pick up your drink, taking another gulp. “You gave me a fucking complex. I- I thought I wasn’t good enough.” You hiss at him, “I always thought - well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m going to go suck up to the execs before they leave. Try to keep my job another year.” You say and pick up your drink, striding over to Mr. Parker, the head of daytime tv.
Max shakes his head, watching your hips sway as you stride away from him. He had never imagined you would have taken him seriously. You always treat him like a joke, so why would you believe that? Of course you’re gorgeous, the network thrived on beautiful people and made it their mission to hire the prettiest talent in the business. Max orders another drink for himself and for you before deciding to join you. A little corporate ass kissing was never a bad move for the career.
You smile as Mr. Parker looks down at your cleavage. It’s not the healthiest dynamic at the network but you let some things slide in the interest of keeping your job. You giggle at his lame joke, trying to act like he’s so clever, when Max comes over and replaces your now empty glass with a new drink. “Ah Phillips, I was just telling your pretty co-anchor here about some changes we will be making to the outfits. I’m thinking we could get away with a couple of inches higher, don’t you?”
Max lifts his brows and pretends to consider it. It’s an insult and everyone here knows it. “Why don’t we have the weather girl in a bikini?” He suggests. “But for our hard hitting stories, I think the length of the dress won’t matter, we’re behind a desk.”
“I was thinking maybe our lady here could be standing up. Presenting in front of the screens like they do on other shows. That way she can show off those stems.” He says and you shake your head, “the whole point of the show is for me to be beside Max. That’s what the viewers like, that’s what they want.” You explain and Mr. Parker hums, “we shall see. I’ll speak to the producers…see what they think.” You nod, offering him a forced smile. You know the producers will have your back on this ridiculous suggestion.
Max glances at you and knows that you are unhappy with the idea and he will back you up. “So what’s your golf game looking like, Paul?” He asks, hoping to steer the conversation on to friendlier topics. “Every time I’m in the weeds, I think of your epic shot.” Paul puffs up proudly and nods, starting to tell Max about his latest game.
You down the rest of your drink and smile at your boss, “excuse me.” You say and make your way back across the event room to the bar, ordering another drink. You shouldn’t drink so much but between all the men in the room that look at you like a piece of meat, you’re ready to get drunk and forget the reality that your time is limited because of your age. They’ll want some twenty year old to take your place soon. You lean against the bar and thank the bartender when he sets another cosmo down. You sigh and turn to pick it up when you feel someone behind you. “Looking gorgeous as ever.” The voice of the foreign correspondent, Jack.
You turn to face him, a stiff smile on your face. “Jack.” You greet him, hating how he leans in even closer. His disgusting cologne wafting over you. He’s always been a little intrusive.
His eyes are dark and his smirk is supposed to be charming, but it comes off as creepy. “What are you doin’ over here by yourself?” He asks. “Rarely ever see you off Phillips’ dick.”
“I’ve never been on his dick. Ever.” You clarify, “I’m just sipping my drink. Enjoying the party.” You hum and take a step back from him.
“Nice to hear. You could be on my dick if you want.” Jack smirks, licking his lower lip and you recoil.
“No. I- I don’t want that.” You say, shaking your head and trying to let him down gently.
“You know, you’d probably move up from the morning show if you weren’t such a stuck up, frigid cunt.” Jack hisses, a scowl on his face, pissed off at being shot by the morning bitch. He is a foreign correspondent, respected and revered. He shoots you a nasty little grin. “Pretty soon your tits won’t be perky enough to keep your job and you’ll be doing the weather in Kalamazoo.”
You narrow your eyes at him, “and I’ll be telling everyone about your unwanted advances to me every single time you’re near me. I will tell HR and get you fired.” You hiss and Jack growls at you, “you’re a fucking bitch.”
You smile, “thank you, Jack.” You remain tall just as Max appears, his hand on your back. “Everything okay here?” He asks and you stiffen slightly, “everything is fine, isn’t it Jack?” You ask the correspondent, who scoffs and walks off.
“What happened?” Max asks, a frown on his face.
“Jack was being an asshole. As per usual.” You huff and turn back towards your drink.
There’s more to it than that, but you will never confide in him. Apparently he can’t even try to pretend to care. He pulls his hand away, and slips it into his pocket. “He’s an old drunk that thinks the weather girl is still picked on a casting couch.” Max snorts. “No means yes to him.” He warns you. “You say I’ll spike your drink, but I wouldn’t put it past that prick.” He scoffs.
You sigh, leaning against the counter, “you’re right. He - I’ve heard stories about the interns and some of the make-up girls.” You confess, rubbing your neck, “you know…you’re not as bad as him. You’re a good man really. I just like seeing that vein pop in your forehead.” You confess, starting to feel giddy from the booze.
Max snorts and rolls his eyes, his own alcohol consumption starting to make his body hum. “You just say that because you have to pretend to like me.” He huffs, sending you a pout before he slides into a grin to cover his hurt feelings. “You think I’m pretty though. No matter how much you don’t want to admit it.”
You scoff, rearing back from him, until you soften and lean closer again. “You are pretty. So pretty.” You confess, reaching out to run your finger down his cheek, “unfair how handsome you are.” You whine slightly, “I don’t have to pretend.” You admit with a whisper.
He shivers at your touch and leans into it the drinks clouding his judgment and making him speak before thinking about it. “You think I’m unfair?” He huffs. “I have to constantly hide the fucking hard on I’ve got around you.” He pouts. “Do you know how fucking distracting your perfume is? You don’t need perfume for tv, and when you’re near me, all I can smell is you and imagine….”
The booze doesn’t let you question the validity of his confession. You decide to revel in it and you lean in towards him, “imagine…?” You question, your eyes flicking down to his lips.
“Imagine you.” Max is too wrapped up in his confession to realize he shouldn’t say this to you. Shouldn’t say this at all. “Head between your thighs, tasting you, making you moan my name so sweetly before I slide inside you.” He pants breathlessly, cock twitching in his pants. “Watching you cum because of me, because of the way I touch you.”
You can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips at the thought. “Maxwell Phillips.” You gasp, your stomach twisting with arousal as you soak the lace panties you’re wearing. You glance around and are grateful that no one notices when you grab Max’s hand and drag him through the crowd and out into the hallway. “I want you to fuck me, Max.” You beg him breathlessly, grabbing onto his tie to pull him into the nearest empty room, a function room with tables and chairs.
“Wait, really?” His eyes widen and he’s not hesitant, he’s shocked as shit. But the way you are dragging him closer makes every caution sign in his mind filter away as you eagerly press your lips to his as you continue to back into the dimly lit room. “Fuck.” He moans, pressing against you when your ass hits a table and his hands are cradling your hips, helping you up onto it as your tongue slides into his mouth.
You don’t think about the consequences of this. Deciding to just feel for once, you groan as Max slides his tongue against yours and his hands explore your body. You moan echoes in the empty room as he kisses your jaw and he settles between your thighs as you open them for him.
He turns greedy. Hands filling themselves with your flesh, groaning into your mouth at the taste of the liquor from your tongue. The pure sense of you. The heat of your skin makes him twitch and groan again when he presses two fingers to the damp core of your lace panties.
You whimper, “please Max” into his jaw as he rubs your clit through the lace. He doesn’t deny you as he slides his fingers beneath the elastic of your panties and presses his manicured fingers against the bundle of nerves. “Oh God.” You moan, sliding your hands down his chest to fumble with his belt, trying to undo the stupidly expensive buckle until you can finally reach in and pull his hard cock out of his equally expensive pants. “Fucking hell.” You curse as you wrap your fingers around the girth.
He chuckles, kissing along your jaw.
“Try hiding that all the time.” He jokes, breaking off into a groan when you squeeze him firmly and start to stroke his cock. “Fuck, baby.” He whines, hips jerking forward into your grip and he twists his wrist to press his thumb against your clit while starting to work two fingers inside you.
You pant as he pushes two thick digits into you. You hate to admit it but you’ve imagined his hands on you, inside of you, many times during segments where the camera is off of you. You jerk his cock, swiping your thumb over the head to gather the pre-cum that has gathered there. “I need - I need you to - oh shit.” You moan when he curls his fingers just right inside of you.
“That what you needed?” He groans, biting along your neck gently while he’s trying not to get too excited. Your cunt is so tight and he doesn’t want to cum too quickly when he finally gets to fuck you. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight. My cock is gonna feel so good inside you.” He moans, kissing along your chest and nudging his nose between your breasts as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.
“Yes. Oh shit. Max. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me-” You cut yourself off with a squeal as you clamp down around his fingers. Your grip on his cock loosening as your orgasm hits you and you pant his name into his hair as he licks along the top of your breast. “Fuck me.” You beg, “need you inside of me, Phillips.”
He doesn’t even consider birth control, he’s listened to the segments where you’ve talked about your own choice and knows you well enough to know you don’t have anything. His fingers are soaked and he pulls them out with a groan of your name. Batting your hands away to wrap around his cock and soak it with your juices.
You spread your legs wider and watch him as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing inside of you with a low groan. “Oh God, Max.” You whine, throwing your head back as he pushes into you and stretches you out.
He hisses as your tight walls surround him. You’re so much tighter and hotter than he ever imagined and he imagined it a lot. Slowly bottoming out and groaning your name again as he tries to keep from cumming. “Holy shit babe.”
You slide your hands under his bespoke jacket, clawing at his back as he twitches inside of you. "I need you to move." You plead. You'll think back to this moment later and cringe at how needy you sound but for right now, you need him to fuck you like you've secretly wanted him to since you started working together.
“Fuck.” Max can’t resist you. One hand planted on the table beside your head and he draws his hips back to plunge into you again. Enjoying the sharp gasp you give him and craving more as he leans down and presses his lips to yours. Starting to thrust into you with harsh, sharp slaps of his hips that rock the table while you cling to him and writhe underneath him.
You slide your tongue against his as he rocks into you. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could hear you. The music is faint from the function room where your work event is being held but you don’t care, too busy focusing on Max and the way he’s thrusting into you like his life depends on it. “Fuck, this is - it’s so good, baby.” You whine and wrap your legs around him, your heels falling to the floor.
Max grunts, agreeing completely as he bites his lip. “So- fuck- so good.” He groans your name again and bites down on your lip hungrily. “Baby, fuck, you’re so tight. How- fuck, you’re so good.”
"Ke-Kegals." You reveal breathlessly, "gotta - gotta keep fit to stay on TV." You whimper when he hits deep and you lift your hips up to meet his thrusts. "Keep going, Phillips, don't you dare stop." You demand when his pace stutters.
“So demanding.” He huffs, flashing you a grin as he nods. Taking a deep breath and rocking his hips harder. “Fuck, it’s your fault. So fucking tight.”
You shake your head, closing your eyes, "you're so fucking thick, Max. God, I don't - no wonder you have so many damn flings." You pant and he drops his hips just right to make you gasp when he hits something devastating.
He chuckles breathlessly, not even bothering to admit that he doesn’t have as many flings as he might have led you to believe. You would never think he was telling you the truth. “You’re tight.”
“Shit, Max. I- I’m gonna- just like that. Keep going like that.” You demand and groan when he keeps hitting that spot. “That’s it baby. Oh shit. Max!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock as he makes you cum hard. Harder than you have for longer than you’d ever care to admit.
“Thaaaaaaat’s it.” He groans, eyes nearly rolling back and he has to put more effort into fucking you from how hard you squeeze hum. “That’s fucking it. Cream all over me baby.” He groans. “Soak my cock with that pretty cunt.”
His words would usually make you cringe if you weren’t practically shaking beneath him as he makes you cum. “Oh God. It’s so good. So good. I want - want you to cum.” You plead, pressing your heels into his ass to push him impossibly deeper inside of you.
“Gonna - fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He pants out breathlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead but he ignores it. Too lost in the sensation of your cunt. “Fuck, fuck you’re so fucking wet, baby.” He praises. “Gonna cum, fuck, fuck-“ he lets out a strangled groan of your name when his hips stutter and he thrusts deep one last time, painting your walls with ropes of cum.
Moaning in delight as he fills you up, you caress his back under his jacket, and tilt your head up to kiss along his jaw. “Not too bad, Phillips.” You tease breathlessly as he rocks himself through his orgasm.
He huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head, rocking slowly as he pumps every spurt of cum into you. “Not too bad yourself.” He grunts, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours once more before he starts to pull out of you to watch his cum drip. “Now that’s a pretty sight.” He hums, delighted to see his cum leaking out of your cunt.
You roll your eyes and sit up, standing on shaking legs to pick up your panties. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. You’re gonna go back in there and act like this didn’t happen. We have to act like this didn’t happen, you understand?” You ask him, your eyes wide and pleading. If everyone knew you and Max had sex, you’d be branded a slut and he’d be revered for conquering you.
Max’s plan to ask you if you want to get out of here dies on his tongue and he adopts an easy grin. “No problem, sweet cheeks.” He chuckles and looks away from you as he tucks his cock back into his pants. “Can’t have anyone thinking that something happened. Might keep me from getting lucky with that new intern tonight.” He lies and starts to straighten his tie and smooth down his vest. Once he feels like he can look at you and not show you how upset he is, he tosses you a wink. “Thanks for the sex, baby.” He hums as he turns around and whistles while strolling out of the empty room.
You watch him walk out and you swallow harshly, ignoring the way your eyes sting with tears. It’s not his fault that you gave in and now you wonder what will happen to your working relationship. You let your guard slip. You can’t let that happen again. Walking out of the room on shaky legs, you make your way back into your work event, grabbing your clutch from the side and you don’t say another word as you swiftly exit the party, ignoring Max’s stare as his cum settles in your panties while you quickly leave before anyone notices what happened.
Sighing softly as you walk out of the party, Max wonders why you let him touch you. Was it a drunken mistake? A calculated ploy to get him fired for misconduct? He frowns as he turns back to the bar and motions for the bartender. He will pretend like it never happened and see if you do the same.
The weekend passes and you freak out about sleeping with Max. It’s changed everything. You don’t know if you’re going to be able to look him in the eye as your car travels to the studio. The producer calls your name, bringing you out of your thoughts and all you can do is nod. You have no idea what they were saying but soon, you’re entering the building and making your way up to the floor for the show. “Good morning.” Your intern, Natalie, greets you with your morning coffee and you thank her. Praying you don’t see Max until you get on set, you settle into your chair to review the segments and wait for the make-up and hair artists.
Max rolls his shoulders back and purposefully changes his step to one that is lighthearted and full of energy. “How are we doing this gorgeous morning?” He asks as he steps into the hair and makeup room, seeing you already in your chair and he hates how his heart pangs because he didn’t hear from you at all. Not that it’s surprising, just disappointing. “Everyone have a good weekend? Mine was amazing.” He boasts, waggling his brows playfully. “Didn’t get out of the bed, if you know what I mean.” He lies, knowing he spent the weekend depressed and wondering what the fuck happened Friday night.
He breezes by you and settles down into his own chair, pulling out the eye mask he carries with him with the serum that costs an arm and a leg, the promise of less wrinkles meaning he will pay any price. “Need some more rest.”
You swallow harshly, keeping your eyes on the script. The ghost of his touch has haunted you all weekend and you don’t know how to feel about his nonchalant attitude to you and the artists in the room. You wonder who took up his bed after you, your stomach twisting at the idea of it being that young new intern that seems eager to please. You turn to look at him when he places the eye mask on his face and your expression is one of heartbreak and longing - at least that’s what the make-up and hair stylists will say later when they gossip over coffee. “Busy weekend?” You ask eventually, trying to sound lighthearted.
“Yep.” He pops the p and sighs with a nostalgia that is solely for you and the night he got to touch you. “You? How was your weekend? Anything fun and new?” He asks, tilting his head up and removing the mask now that his stylist is here. His eyes focus on you with a serious gaze.
You can’t tell him you sat around all weekend having a crisis about what happened between you. “Oh, I was busy. I went out. Had dinner. Some drinks.” You say vaguely, “had a late night on Saturday so spent most of Sunday in bed.” You smirk, forcing yourself to give the impression that you weren’t alone.
“Ohhhh ho! Someone got lucky!” Max plasters a cocky look on his face and waggles his brows even though he’s pissed you fled and apparently went to fuck someone else. “Was it good? Bet it was good, but I would have been better, sweet cheeks.” He teases like he normally would have, but the words taste slightly bitter.
“In your dreams, Phillips.” You spit half heartedly, not wanting to elaborate on your lie as you hate the fact that he’s ruined everyone else for you. You’ve never cum so fast and so hard. Most men finish before you can and then won’t even help you get off. You’ve never felt that kind of electricity. The artist's exchange looks behind you as you and Max are distracted by your own turbulent thoughts. “Besides, sounds like you were warm and cozy in your bed with a new floozy.”
“You know how it is.” Max shrugs carelessly. “Friday night plans fell through so I had to improvise.” He stares at you for a moment longer before turning his attention to the hair stylist. “Can you make my hair extra shiny this morning, babe?” He asks, dropping his eyes to his hair and reaching up to fix a hair out of place. “Want to look my best for the cameras.”
You huff, shaking your head, “always the same. Always wanting the spotlight and - and always being so goddamn selfish.” You growl at him, batting the brush away from your face as you stand up and mutter about needing the bathroom before you rush out of the room. You hate that Max doesn’t even seem to remember that you had sex on Friday night. You were just another notch on his belt.
Max’s eyes follow you out of the room and the frown on his face isn’t even registering to him, although it’s being noticed by the other people in the room. Their glances to each other pointed and the hairstylist finally answers him. “Sure, Max. No problem.” She hums, running her fingers through his hair and Max sighs. “Just do whatever.”
You stare into the mirror in the bathroom, preparing yourself to head back out there and act like nothing is wrong. One drunken night with Max and your world is spinning out of control. You’ve worked so hard, focused on your career, and now you feel like you’re losing it all because you can’t stop thinking about how he felt, how he smelt, how he sounded. His moan of your name seems to play on a loop in your head and it’s driving you crazy. Hands shaking, you gather yourself as you head back into the make up room, glad to see Max is gone as you get ready to go on air.
Sitting behind the desk, Max tries to shake off the feeling that you are upset at him. You are the one who had left. Fled the party after begging him to fuck you. He’s kind of pissed off about it now. Setting him up to look like an asshole. He shuffles through the notes for the upcoming show and clears his throat, trying to get the smell of you out of his mind, his cock refusing to soften.
You spritz on your perfume, just to torture Max after what he told you, and you step onto the set to sit down at the desk next to Max. The team comes over to adjust your mic and you pick up your notes.
As soon as you sit down, a cloud of your perfume settles over him and makes Max groan. His cock twitching in his pants and he drops his head into his hand. “Max. You good?” The producer calls out from beside the camera man and he has to lift his head and pretend he’s not incredibly turned on.
“All good, just remembered I didn’t turn off the coffee maker this morning.” He lies.
You turn your head to look at him, eyebrows raised, and you think that the groan is in annoyance at having to sit next to you. “I should’ve called in sick.” You mutter and shake your head before the AD announces the countdown to live. When you are counted down to one, you plaster a smile on your face and straighten your back, eager to do a good job even if inside, you’re angry and confused at Max and his reaction like Friday night was nothing.
“Good morning and welcome to the Daily New Show.” Max tries to keep himself even more energetic than normal to make up for his turbulent feelings. “I hope everyone is having a fabulous Monday morning and we’ve got an impressive show for you today. As you know, it is Valentine’s Day so I hope you’re all prepared. I know I am.” He chuckles and turns towards you and introduces you as his lovely co-host. “Did you like those chocolates I put in your room this morning?”
You know Max didn’t put anything in your room but you play along, “of course. I’ll be enjoying some of those with my coffee later. Did you get my present?” You tease him playfully on camera, knowing you didn’t get him anything either but you want to make the viewers think you and him are the best of friends.
“No…” his eyes widen playfully and he tosses you a grin. “Whaddya get me?” He asks, knowing you didn’t get him anything. “Hopefully something good, because I’m worth it.” He winks at the camera and chuckles, knowing that you would not be thinking the same thing.
You shake your head, "you'll have to wait and find out. I'm sure you're gonna love it." You promise with a grin and turn back towards the camera. "Talking of gifts, let's go to Katie who has some last minute gift ideas for those who need something for the one they love." You smile at the camera and slump when they count you out. "Chocolates." You scoff, "you've never even gotten me a coffee."
Max rolls his eyes and snorts. “And? Not like you’ve ever given me anything either? Maybe looks of disgust, but I don’t count those, sweet cheeks.” The sad thing is, he had bought you some chocolates, the first year you were on air for your birthday, but you hand said you wanted no reminders of getting older so he hadn’t given them to you. “Only another fifty-six minutes in my company, you’ll survive.”
You sigh and sit up straight, unsure of what to say. You hate that you’ve reverted back to your old bickering, knowing that this won’t get you anywhere after what happened on Friday. You’re confused about how you feel. You wanted to ask him to come home with you after you slept together but you know you’d put your job on the line if something went wrong and Max would always be looking for the next best thing.
Max sighs softly when you don’t say anything and rolls his shoulders back as the countdown to the cameras being back on you starts. He should just forget Friday ever happened, it’s obvious that you regret it. “Thank you, Katie. Hopefully all the men out there without a plan can get it together and not disappoint their ladies, right?” He asks you, turning his head to look at you seriously. “Although I’m more of a romantic dinner at home, myself. Candlelight, soft music, bottle of wine.” He shrugs. “Nothing like a homemade carbonara.” It’s scripted, but true. He did prefer evenings in.
You offer him a nod and a smile, “sounds like my kind of romantic night in, Max.” You wink and continue with the prompter. It’s hard to ignore the way he stares at you sometimes. The intensity in his look has you shifting in your chair and when you are countered out, you immediately stand up and remove your mic, making your way into your dressing room. It’s impossible to forget the way he felt inside of you, the way he sounded. You can’t forget him and it’s torturing you. You wipe your forehead and place your hands on your hips as the door opens and you turn to see Max standing there. “I can’t do this anymore.” You admit, “I can’t sit next to you every day and act like nothing happened between us.”
“You?” He snorts and shakes his head. “You are the one that left. Walked away without a word and you didn’t call me. So how am I supposed to know what you want? You want me to quit? Too bad.” He scoffs. “You will just have to deal.” He’s pissed off now. Pissed that it meant so little to you and now you want him gone so you don’t have to live with your mistake.
“I- I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about how you sounded. How you felt. I- it’s torturing me.” You choke, “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I thought it was for the best and I figured you would act like it didn’t happen and go back to your one night stands but - shit, Phillips. I fucking hate you for getting under my skin like this.” You hiss at him, pissed at yourself as well.
“I don’t have a lot of one night stands.” Max admits, shaking his head when you scoff. “You were- you don’t fucking see it?” He asks, lunging forward and pressing into your dressing room so the door closes and grabs your neck to drag you closer to kiss. “You don’t see that I’m crazy about you?” He hisses before he kisses you feverishly.
Your eyes widen at first contact until your brain stops working and you relax into him. Letting him kiss you, his fingers digging into the back of your neck, and you moan into his mouth until your senses return. You push him away, "stop. We - we can't do this. If it goes wrong. It will go wrong and then our careers - we can't do this, Max."
“Goddamn you.” Max hisses, stepping back and his eyes are filled with nothing but hurt. “You only give a damn about yourself and you’re fucking toying with me.” He clenches his jaw and turns around. “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” He spits, storming out of the room, humiliated that he put himself on the line again and you are rejecting him.
You stare at him as he slams the door behind him, your lips tingling from the kiss and your hands shake as you touch them as if trying to erase his kiss from your skin. It doesn’t work. You feel your eyes sting as you grab your things and change into your leggings and hoodie before you head home. Your head is aching and you try to think about the reasons why it would be wrong to give Max a chance.
Max berates himself the entire way back to his apartment. Hating how he had admitted to you that he doesn’t have flings. Knowing that you would just use it against him. His phone contacts land on his agent and he wonders if he should call him. Let him know what’s going on in case you decide to go for the throat and in the end, he can’t do it. He will quietly put in for evening anchor and let you have the morning show. It’s what you want anyway.
You bite your lower lip as you stand outside of Max’s building, the doorman recognising you and sending you up. You thank him and fiddle with the bag in your hand, the present you bought for the man you’ve secretly been in love with for years. You ring the doorbell and wait for Max to answer the door.
Max had changed from the suit he had worn to comfortable sweats and a t-shirt, figuring he would spend the rest of the day wallowing in self pity and order DoorDash for dinner since he was all alone for yet another Valentine’s Day. Groaning when the doorbell peels, he wonders if it’s the lady from the third floor who loves to come give her his opinion on the show. She’s old and her husband died last year, so he tries not to shoo her away too quickly, but he’s not in the mood for company. Dragging himself off the couch he opens the door to find you standing there, no make up and in leggings, looking more beautiful than you deserve. “What do you want?” He demands.
You stare at him, unused to seeing him in relaxed clothing, he looks younger. You sigh and shift from one foot to the other. “I was wrong. To push you away. I can’t - I can’t keep denying myself the chance to be happy because I am terrified that everything I have worked for will go up in flames. I have been in love with you since we started working together and that day I saw you speak to that old lady when we did the segment on Alzheimer’s and you were so sweet and kind. I had never seen you like that before, and it made me realize that I had fallen in love with you, but I kept that hidden because I was scared. I was fucking terrified Max, that you would reject me because you have the world at your feet and can have any woman you want, what would make me special enough for you to love me? then you kept mentioning all your flings and I knew that I would never get the chance to be with you. I didn’t want to risk everything but Friday, I put everything on the line and then realized that everything could go wrong and I got scared. I got so fucking scared and I am so sorry that I acted like nothing happened when all I want is to have you again and again until you send me away.”
Max stares at you, digesting the verbal book you’ve just thrown at him and he drops his shoulders. “Do you want to come in?” He asks, unsure if you are planning on running away again or if you want to actually talk. He opens the door wider and none of the normally sarcastic comments come out of his mouth, unable to put on a front any more.
You deflate, nodding as you step into his apartment, and you admire the decor. Masculine but warm and you know he probably paid an interior designer to help him out. He shuts the door behind you and you fiddle with the bag in your hand. “I’m sorry to just show up.” You murmur, glancing around his apartment.
“Not like I had plans tonight.” Max shrugs it off and sighs. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, tea, tequila?” He swallows and rocks his jaw before you can even answer. “Why did you leave? Did you regret it?”
You stare at him, wondering if he heard everything you said. “Did you not- I left because I was scared you’d reject me. That I was just a conquest and you’d go back to your flings. I didn’t want to ruin our careers by getting messy emotions involved. Because - because I was a coward.”
“But you aren’t a coward.” Max argues, frowning fiercely at the idea. “You’re fucking amazing. Powerful, confident, a real ball buster when you have to be. You push boundaries and demand respect - and earn it.” He tells you. “You’re gorgeous, smart, kind of funny, brilliant at reading an audience and you have so much compassion. But one thing you are not….is a coward.”
His words make your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. “I was - I am scared. Scared of getting hurt. Scared of reaching for you, for something that could ruin me. In every way in life. I love you, Max, and that night…I broke. I couldn’t hold back from what I wanted anymore and I was an asshole to run away. I don’t want to run anymore. I know what I want. I know how I feel.”
“I thought I had you that night.” Max admits quietly, your words scaring him slightly and making him wish this had happened years ago. “I thought I finally got what I had wanted for so long.” He sends you a small grin. “Was going to ask if you wanted to leave the party. Go get dinner that night.”
You shake your head, tears stinging in your eyes a little. “I shouldn’t have - God, I was an idiot. I should’ve stayed. I’m sorry.” You confess and he stares at you again. “I- I can go. I just wanted to give you your gift.” You say, handing him the bag.
“You- you got me something?” He asks, taking the bag and then reaching for your arm as you try to turn away. “Wait.” He begs quietly. “Don’t run away again.”
You don’t move, looking down at his hand on your arm, and you nod, turning towards him again. “I want you to open it.” You say, “and read the note.” You tell him and he nods, setting the bag down on the counter.
The box is one that he recognizes and he shoots you a confused look. “I don’t-“ he starts but you shake your head. “Read the note.” You repeat and he nods, diving back into the bag to pull out a red envelope.
You watch him open the envelope. You had them write on the note “to the one I adore” and you hope he doesn’t reject you. You wanted to show him how you feel, to show him that you know him. Even down to his dream watch.
“I don’t- I can’t believe you bought this.” He admits, looking up at you and looks at you with amazement. “It’s the exact watch I’ve been wanting.” He admits. “I just could never justify buying it for myself. How did you-?”
“Saved up. I got a bonus when I resigned my contract. Got myself a purse and I only made it this far because of you…wanted to say thank you for being there for me every day.” You tell him shyly, “I wanted to show you how I felt without actually telling you.”
“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head and sets the card down before he steps closer to you. “I can’t believe you.” He reaches up and caresses your cheek. “I feel bad because I didn’t get you anything.”
You shake your head against his palm, “it’s fine. I didn’t know when I would give you this. I’ve had it for a while. Trying to summon up the courage to tell you how I felt, to not be terrified.” You bite your lip as his dark eyes burn into yours.
“You shouldn’t have been terrified.” Max scoffs quietly. “I’ve not actually slept with anyone in months, nearly a year.” He admits. “Too busy being hung up on my co-worker.”
You lean into his palm and reach out to caress his cheeks with your hands. “Gladys the cleaner?” You tease and he chuckles, “damn. How did you know?” He asks and you giggle, leaning in to nudge your nose against his. “Please don’t break my heart.” You plead, “because it’s yours.”
“I sat home all weekend and sulked because you left.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “I don’t want something casual. If we do this, I want it to be a real relationship. Dates in, dates out in town, sleepovers and being disgusting together.” He smirks at you. “Everything.”
“People already think we are fucking. The unofficially married couple of daytime tv. I don’t see why we can’t make it official? I want to be disgusting with you, Phillips.” You grin, “I want everything with you.”
“Yeah?” Max grins back at you and leans in to nudge his nose against yours. “You know what we didn’t do Friday?” He asks teasingly. “I didn’t see how fucking hard you can cum on my tongue.”
You whimper, your hands sliding down to caress his neck and his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm. “You can find out if you want? I want to see how much you cum down my throat too.” You murmur, sliding your hand lower until you’re rubbing his semi through his sweats. “I gotta say, I love you in casual wear.”
“Yeah?” He groans quietly, hardening under your touch. “I think I love you in leggings. You like it for the easier access?” He twitches when you squeeze him and pant softly. “Baby. I- fuck, can I touch you?” He begs, a gentleman despite his bragging. “Please let me touch you.”
“I think I’ll have to kill you if you don’t touch me, Phillips.” You demand playfully, reaching into his sweats to pull his hard cock out. “God, I didn’t get a good look and - no wonder you’re so damn cocky.” You groan and let go of him to spit in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his girth.
Max would chuckle, but he’s too busy diving under your shirt to cup your tits. “Want you naked this time.” He moans, rocking his hips into your hand. “Touch you everywhere. Fuck, baby, I- should I eat you out first, have you sit on my face or kneel between those pretty thighs?” The good thing about getting up so fucking early is that it’s not even noon yet, he’s got the rest of the day to spend with you if you don’t run away again.
You whimper when he squeezes your tits over your bra. "Fuck, Max. However you want me. I am yours." You promise, "just touch me." You plead, pressing your thighs together to get some friction.
Max leans in and bites your jaw. “Come on, baby.” He coos, excited to touch you properly. “Want to show you my bedroom.” He teases. “Give you the full Max Phillips tour.”
You would normally roll your eyes but right now, you desperately need him. The ghost of his touch has been on your mind since Friday and you need it, you need him. He guides you into his bedroom and it's clean, the bed is made. “I like your style, Phillips.” You smile at him as he lets go of your hand so he can pull your shirt over your head.
“Can’t sleep in a messy room.” He admits, although he tosses your shirt to the floor with a grin. “But I will happily leave your clothes on the floor allllllll night.” He promises, unhooking your bra with two fingers before dragging it down so he can wrap his lips around one of your nipples.
You gasp and arch your chest into his mouth, your hand quickly finding purchase in his hair. “Shit Max.” You whine when he bites down and you love it, you love how he seems so hungry for you.
Max growls against your skin, loving how you start to tug on his hair. His hands tug down at your leggings before he pulls away to push you down onto his bigger than needed bed. Grinning when you bounce slightly and he goes back to attacking your pants. “Fuck.”
You help him by kicking them off and his fingers are hooking into your panties, dragging them down your legs. “Fuck baby. I need you.” You beg, dripping wet for him and his hair is not gelled, falling into his face and your heart clenches at the grin on his face as he crawls up your body.
“You’ve got me.” He promises, stopping to nip, lick and kiss different places on your body. Stopping and staring at you with a serious expression on his face. “You’re beautiful.” He murmurs softly before leaning in to press his lips to yours.
You slide your hands down to caress his back as his tongue slides into your mouth. His cock is heavy against your thigh and you grab his shirt in your hands, wanting to see more of him. “Take this off.” You demand, tugging on his shirt.
He chuckles, pushing onto his knees to comply. “So pushy,” he teases, grinning as he tosses it away and starts to tug his sweats down over his ass. “I like it. Order me around baby, tell me to lick your pussy until you cream in my face.”
You giggle at the enthusiastic look on his face. “Want you to lick my pussy until I soak your face.” You demand, grabbing his face to drag him down between your thighs, maybe pulling on his hair a little too hard but his resounding groan tells you he likes it.
Max loves when a woman is demanding, taking what she wants because he also loves to do the same. A true switch when it comes to the bedroom. “Fuck, you have such a pretty pussy.” He groans when he sees your wet folds. “So tight too.” He tells you before he lunges forward to bury his tongue inside you.
Your cry echoes in his large bedroom and you moan his name, your hips immediately thrusting up into his mouth as he slides his tongue through your folds. “Holy shit, Max.” You throw your head back as he sucks on your clit.
He chuckles against your clit, sliding a hand between your thighs and he starts to rub your entrance to gather your slick before curling two fingers inside you. Loving how quickly you clench down on them as he licks at your nerves expertly.
His fingers and his tongue are magic. No wonder he has the reputation he has when it's so damn good. You whimper and lift your leg onto his shoulder so his fingers push deeper. "Holy - holy shit." You choke when he curls them just right and his breath washes over your clit.
“That’s it, baby,” Max coos, completely obsessed with the way you whimper his name. “Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum all over my fingers and face, pretty girl.” He keeps curling his fingers and sucks your clit back into his mouth as he watches you intently, wanting to witness the moment you cum.
"Oh shit. Shit. Just- fuck - just like that." You whine as he sucks your clit like those stupid caramels he unwraps between segments. You can't deny him as he curls his fingers just right and you cum, clamping down on his thick digits.
You’re louder than that Friday, of course you are. You are in a private bedroom where you won’t be discovered if you scream his name. Plus, this orgasm is completely centered around you, Max continues to pump his fingers and suck in your clit to work you through it. Greedy for your sounds and the way you soak his fingers.
When it becomes too much, you push him away, gasping his name, and you grab his shoulder, dragging him up your body. "I wanna-" You don't voice your desires as you shift to push him back on the bed, shifting to kneel between his legs. "God." You murmur as you wrap your fingers around his cock.
"Baby. You don't-" His protest dies on his lips as you lean forward to wrap your lips around the head of his cock. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” Max hisses in pleasure as your mouth takes his cock. Twitching and groaning your name when he feels you swallow around him. “Never-never thought I’d see this.” He admits breathlessly. “But I love the view.”
Your eyes crinkle as you smile around his dick, taking him deeper, and you love the way his jaw drops. "You are gorgeous." He murmurs and you slide your hand along his chest, caressing his skin as you start to bob your head.
It’s quite possibly the best fucking blowjob he’s ever had. Not sure if it’s because you are so eager to blow him, or that it’s just you, but you have him breathless and gripping the duvet quickly. “Baby, baby, you are so good. You’re gonna make me cum and I can’t do that right now.” He whines after you swallow around him again.
You reluctantly pull off of his cock, moving fast to straddle his thighs and you shuffle closer, sitting up until you can grip his cock and notch him at your entrance. You look into those dark eyes and sink slowly down onto him.
“Shiiiiiiiiiit.” Max grabs your hips but he doesn’t try to control you, just hanging on while your walls surround him. “Can we do the show just like this?” He pants out, “you sitting on my cock? Fuck, baby.”
“We’d either get no viewers or a ton of viewers for daytime tv.” You giggle, caressing his chest and you lean in to kiss his neck. “You feel so good inside of me, Max.” You murmur, kissing his jaw as you lift your hips until you’re sinking back down onto him.
Max blows out a loud breath, sliding his hands up and down your back. “I’m trying not to blow my load here, sweet cheeks. Don’t mistake that. Fuck, you feel so amazing. Like a fucking glove.”
You moan, loving the way he twitches inside of you. “All yours. Yours baby.” You promise and lean in to kiss him softly before you start to rock your hips, taking him deep inside of you every time you sink down onto his cock. He’s so deep and you aren’t in a rush for this to be over.
The pace is slower than before and Max groans every time you rock your hips. “Fuck baby.” He whispers, turning his head to kiss along your neck. Loving how you are slowly unraveling him.
You rock back onto him, caressing his neck and sliding your fingers through his hair. “God, I love you.” You murmur, shifting to press your lips to his, your hands cupping his cheeks.
His breath catches, hearing you say it like that for the first time. “I love you too, baby.” He promises, lifting up to kiss you thoroughly. His hand slides up to your neck and he drags you closer, loving how your tits press against his chest and he slides his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss.
You savor the kiss, moaning into his mouth, and you whimper his name as he kisses along your jaw. You bounce on his cock a little faster, wanting him to cum for you. “Fuck, baby. I- I want you to fill me up.” You murmur, nudging your nose against his.
“Shiiiit.” Max hisses. “That is so fucking sexy.” He admits with a breathless laugh. Watching your tits bounce and he reaches back to slap your ass.
You groan as he helps you bounce harder on his cock. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes! Just like that. Oh God. You’re hitting just right.” You ramble, lost in the sensations as he rocks you on his cock and the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit.
Max chuckles at how desperate you sound, how greedily your cunt clenches around him. Groaning as he rocks you harder and plants his feet to thrust into you. “Want you to cum.” He grunts. “On my cock this time.”
You whimper, "gonna - oh God. Ma- Max. Oh fuck. Maxxxx." You squeal. clamping down on his cock and you cry out as he thrusts up at the right angle and sends you over the edge, making you shake against him as you orgasm.
Max chokes out your name, wrapping his arms around you and starting to thrust up into you wildly. Letting his own desires overtake the sedate pace and chase his own orgasm now that you’ve cum.
You let him thrust up into you, making you moan as he extends your climax. “Baby. I need - I want you to cum for me.” You beg, kissing his neck, and you end up biting his earlobe. “Cum for me, Max.”
“Ohhh shit.” You biting him throws him over the edge. Squeezing you tight, he rocks his hips up to bury himself inside you. Groaning as his spurts of cum paint your walls.
You caress his neck, running your finger through his hair as you kiss all over his face. His fingers dig into your flesh but you don’t care, loving how he feels surrounding you. “I love you, Phillips.” You murmur, enjoying how he feels surrounding you. “I’m sorry I ran away.” You murmur, knowing you aren’t running now.
“I love you too.” Max hums softly. “If you run this time, I’m coming after you. I don’t give a damn who knows it.” His arms loosen slightly and he looks into your eyes when you lean back. “Will you go to dinner with me? Not tonight, because we couldn’t get reservations anywhere, but I want to take you out properly.”
You nod, unable to say no to him and you lean in to kiss him again. “I’m not running away. I want the world to know about us. It’s - I’ve been thinking, this could make our career. The TV husband and wife that become husband and wife.” You tease and Max’s eyes widen.
“Marriage? Slow your roll baby.” He says and you giggle, rolling your eyes. “I’m joking. I want to marry you. Shit, I’ve never said that to anyone. I want you baby. I’m in this for the long haul.” He promises and you nod, leaning in to kiss him.
“Mrs Max Phillips has a ring to it.” You murmur and he chuckles, “who says I wouldn’t take your last name? I’m a modern man.” He winks at you and you snort, leaning in to nudge your nose against his. You don’t know why you’ve been running from your feelings and now that you are here with Max, you’ll never run again. He’s now your home.
****
“It’s that time of year again.” Max grins into the camera as the red light reappears. “Valentine’s Day. The day where men either panic as they figure out to impress their partners or prepare to take the next step.” He clears his throat as he looks over at you. His girlfriend of a year, even though the public was still guessing at how serious the relationship was. There had been plenty of photos of dinners out and cozily walking around town together. While you weren’t discreet, you both decided to be mum about the status of your relationship. Especially after a closed door meeting with the producers. Everyone at the station knew, and that was all that mattered. “Tell me, Valentine’s Day proposal, tacky or romantic?” He asks you. “I personally think romantic if done right, but what do you think?”
You hum, not picking up his reasoning for the question when it's on the teleprompter. "I think...if it's done right, it's romantic. If it's a 'shut up ring' then it's tacky." You explain, turning back to the prompter. "So today, we have a big surprise. Someone is going to be getting engaged on the show." You grin, still not suspicious as the producers told you about a guy who was going to surprise his girlfriend. "Look at Max." You read the teleprompter and frown, turning to see Max out of his chair. "What are you doing?"
“Baby, honey, sweet cheeks, I don’t think there’s anything tacky about the way that I feel about you.” Max tells you as he takes your hand and kneels down in front of you. “I couldn’t think of any place more romantic than the place I met you, the place I fell in love with your laugh, your heart, your brain and everything that makes up my partner at work.” He smiles at the shocked look on your face. “I wanted to propose today, since one year ago, we finally confessed how we felt and it’s been a magical year. So now I just have one little question.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring box. “Will you be my partner in life? Marry me, darling, be my wife please?”
Your eyes widen and you glance around at the crew who are grinning at you and Max. You inhale shakily, tears stinging in your eyes as the man you love kneels in front of you. "Baby. I - yes. A million times, yes!" You squeal and shift to kneel down in front of him, cupping his cheeks to kiss him without even caring about the ring, you're more excited to marry the man you love.
Grinning against your lips, Max knows that you’ve just made history, a morning show host proposing to his co-host on live tv. It will be the talk of the town. He doesn’t care about that or what the executives think. All he cares about is that Valentine’s Day is the day you became an official couple, the day you agreed to marry him, and next year - you’ll get married on Valentine’s Day. He will make sure that every Valentine’s Day you spend with him will be one to remember.
Can I get you A Ladder So YOU Can Get OFF my back?
Masterlist
A Valentine's Day Special Treat. For those who are either widowed, divorced or just single this time of the year. This lovely thing is just for you to provide something to help you get through it all.
Requests are fine. You just need to specify what Pedro Pascal Character you want first and what trope you want tied to it too.
Please, keep in mind that I reserve the right to reject any request that makes me uncomfortable. So send in those asks in anytime.
Without further ado.
Here is what I have planned so far:
Legend:
🥰 = first time writing specific trope
🤩 = Angst with comfort
🙄 = Drama
😍 = Smut
🫠 = Purely Smut without plot
😭 = Angst
🚩 = Dark Content is included.
😊 - Fluff
Time & Place - Joel Miller x Australian! Female Reader - 7th February - 🙄, 😍, 😭
The Art and The Artist - Porn Director! Javier Pena x Porn Star! Russian! Female Reader - 9th February - 😍
Things Will Be OK - Frankie Morales x Italian Mafia Princess! Female Reader - 11th February - 😭, 🤩
In Time I Will Heal - dbf! Dave York x Female Reader - 13th February - 🙄, 😭,🥰
Until The End Of My Life - Javi Gutierrez x Italian Mafia Princess!Female Reader - 14th February - 🙄
Moonlight Sonata - Maxwell Lord x Electrical Engineer! Female Reader - 15th February - 😍, 🥰
Ancient Vampires - Max Phillips x Old English! Ancient Vampire! Female Reader - 17th February
Decorated in The Blues - Dieter Bravo x Female Reader - 22nd February - 🙄, 😊
When in Rome - General Marcus Acasius x Albino! Female Reader - 24th February - 🙄, 🥰
The Welsh Dragon - Jack Daniels x Welsh! Gothic/ Heavy Metal! Female Reader! - 25th February
Kinktober Prompt: sex pollen, thigh riding, forced orgasm (day 4)
pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader
summary: Drinking with your boss goes differently than you'd planned.
“Mm baby, I bet I could get one more out of you, what d’ya think? Can you cum one more time for me, like a good girl?” You looked into his eyes, seeing his hunger for you, it was carnal, lecherous.
wordcount: 2.3k+
warnings: no Y/N, this is sort of dark, DUBCON, max has a thing for reader, boss/employee dynamics, drugging (w/blood), intoxication, dom/sub vibes, teasing, nipple play, grinding/dry humping, voice kink, praise kink, magic kinda, making out, overstimulation, small visual hallucinations, multiple orgasms (2), use of “good girl”, dirty talk
A/N: max is a little OOC also my vampire science is slightly based on true blood–if a human ingests vamp blood (so not sex pollen exactly), they sort of trip on it BUT there are less extreme visual hallucinations + it just makes you feel rllyyyy good and very h-word. he can also influence you if you make eye contact for a few seconds (which is just glamouring in TB lol)
“How’s it taste?”
Max watched as you took a couple sips of his fancy red wine (whose name you couldn't pronounce), eyes a bit widened in excitement. You let the taste linger in your mouth for a moment, before replying. “Not bad, it's a little strong, but smooth. Reds usually don't do it for me, but this, it's pretty good.”
He smiled at your candidness, subtly scooting a bit closer. The two of you sat on high stools in his kitchen, talking at the marble island. Max had invited you over early in the day, during your lunch break, stating that even though you'd been working there for a few months, he barely knew anything about you. Said it would be good to get to know each other, it would help ease you into the work culture.
“I’m glad you like it.. it's been fermenting awhile, probably longer than you’ve been alive!” He says, with a slightly obnoxious laugh, watching you giggle in response.
The both of you chat about random stuff, mostly about you– how long you’ve been in the city, where you came from, etc. Every time you want to ask him about himself, he sort of beats you to it, pulling bits and pieces of information out of you.
A few moments later, you start to feel woozy, more in your head and upper body. “Woah, that stuff was strong.” You’re giggling, reaching for the bottle that stood on the counter between you and Max, wanting to read it again.
“You feelin’ it?” He asks, eyes steadily trained on your face, his body turning to better face yours. A chuckle leaves your throat, “Yeah, it's…” You just shake your head and sit the bottle back down, at a loss for words to describe how your body was beginning to feel.
It was good, a sort of light feeling, as if every particle of your being was being lifted up by tiny little angels, washing away that heavy burden of being a person. No more stress, no more doubts, no more responsibilities, no more ego.
There was also a physical tingling slowly radiating from your spine to every other part of your body, your head, your tummy, your toes, fingertips..
You brought your hand up, eyes wide in amazement at the faint glowing you could see emanating from your nails. You eyes briefly left your hands, going up to meet Max’s, your mouth hung open as if to say do you see this? but nothing came out. He watched you, with a sort of amused, content look on his face, lips slightly upturned.
Your arm slowly reached out, hand stretching towards him, wanting him to see and feel what you were experiencing. When you touched, it felt like electricity– “Oh!” You gasped.
But the sharp feeling quickly turned into a soothing, warm sensation as Max fully took your hand in between both of his. He gently rubbed your hand, while you sat in complete awe. You met his eyes again, and this time you could see the darkness in them.
His orbs were almost black, gaze trained on you with such intensity that sober-you would've simply imploded. But right now– they were comforting, nearly tranquilizing.
“How are you feeling? Good?” His voice was deeper, more…sensual–it hit your ear in a different way than before. You wanted to hear more.
Nodding your head, you leaned your body in a bit more towards his, reaching your other hand up to his face. You were only slightly surprised to feel that jolt again, that static that seemed to sit on his skin. You stroked his cheek softly, soothing that electricity just like he did with you.
“Mmm..” Max groaned and his eyes fluttered shut, head tilting back slightly as your fingers graced his jaw. You watched as he reveled in your touch, leaning into your hand. Your fingers traveled along the outline of his face, going down until they were loosely grasping the side of his throat with your thumb stroking his cheek again.
Max’s eyes opened again, looking as though he was shocked that you could get him like this. “Come,” And then he was pulling you by your arms, so quickly that it didn’t feel real. For a split second, you stood there, in between his legs, with your faces only an inch apart, so close that there was equal static flowing between you two.
And then you were falling.
You’d been sitting for so long, you didn’t realize how numb your legs were. “Woah there, mama, let's get you up.” Max cooed, standing up to catch you and help get you upright. You weakly held onto him, less focused on your legs and more focused on how close you were to him, the woody scent of sage and cedarwood in his clothes, and the way he was holding onto your body, his own tall figure serving as a protector for you. “C’mon, baby, I’ve got ya.”
The lights were low, the constant whirring of the ceiling fan lulled you in the background, and you were in heaven. Max had led you into his living room, sitting the both of you down on the soft sofa with you atop his lap. He firmly grasped your chin with his right hand, bringing your eyes back up to his. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”
His voice had a tone of dominance in it, and his eyes had you falling into that peaceful trance again, unable to focus on anything other than him and the wonderful sensations happening within your body. “Feelin’ good,” You meekly whispered, voice a bit hoarse from not having spoken in a minute.
“Mhm?” He looked pleased with your answer, leaning back into the sofa as you remained straddling his lap. His hand dropped from your face, both coming to rest on your hips. His eyes wandered, first to your lips, then your neck, down to the curves outlined in your short black slip dress, especially your breasts.
Max lifted his hands up to each of your breasts, gently holding each of them in his palms while you looked down at him, nothing but calm in your eyes. Then his thumbs lightly flickered across your nipples, drawing a gasp out of you. His eyes lit up at both the sound you made, and the way you jumped in his lap, subtly grinding into his hardening cock.
“Do you always wear such revealing clothing when at your boss’ house?
Your eyes widened at the question, head shaking in response, feeling yourself become needier the longer his hands were on you.
“Hm?” He stopped thumbing at your nipples, eyebrows raised with a stern look on his face.
You got the hint. “No, no I don’t..”
“It's just for me?” The touching resumed, now turning into soft groping.
You nodded your head, “Only for you.”
He squeezed and massaged your breasts, causing you to let out breathy moans above him. A cocky smile graced his face as he began to pleasure you. Max was now fully hard and slightly grinding his bulge up into your soaked panties, hissing at the feeling of your warmth, even through his pants.
“Fuck, baby…you’re so good, y’know that?”
A pang of electricity shot through your stomach, making you feel even weaker. His hands, his eyes, his cock hard under you, and his fucking voice… everything had you so far under.
“Jus’ wanna be good for you,” Your voice was so soft and hushed, but you knew he’d heard you. “Yeah?” He asked, and you nodded in response, your eyes low and focused on his.
He sat up to come in closer to you, his firm hands coming up to your face, pulling you in until you were an inch apart. You stared into his eyes, the depth of darkness pulling you in, enticing you. All you wanted was him. To become one with him.
You kissed him, a bit too fast, with a sort of hunger, and then you quickly pulled back and leaned your forehead onto his. He panted, a feral, frenzied look written all across his face, letting you know that he needed this as much as you did.
Your faces pulled back together and his hands shot down to your ass, pulling the bottom of your dress up above your hips. Feeling that you only had a thong on underneath, Max hissed in pleasure. His hands grasped each of your cheeks, squeezing and groping, more obviously grinding his bulge up into your heat. “Y’feel that baby? Feel how much I want you? How much I need you?”
“Yes,” You let out a breathy moan, your head swimming in clouds. “It feels so good.”
“Show me. Show me how good you feel.”
Your hips began to move, rocking back and forth on his lap, your clothed clit rubbing against the hem in his jeans. Every time it hit that one spot you let out a moan, each one getting louder than the one before.
His right hand came down on your ass hard and fast, feeling like a lightning bolt shooting through your backside. You yelped, now humping a bit more frantic. You could tell you were nearing your peak already, though it felt much different than when you normally do, alone and in the darkness of your bedroom.
It was more intense. Your body trembled and your eyes kept fluttering shut as the waves of pleasure amplified. “M-Max, I-”
“I know, baby, let it out,” His voice grunted out, hands tightly guiding you back and forth on his lap, getting you closer and closer, until all you could feel was static electricity, all over your skin, on Max, inside of you…
He brought a hand back up to your jaw, holding your face up to meet your gaze. “Cum for me.” His eyes pierced yours and you felt yourself let go, hips stilling for a moment then twitching uncontrollably. You cried out as your eyes rolled back into your head, immediately feeling overstimulated all over your body.
“Good girl,” He cooed in your ear, his body stilling under yours. “You did so good, baby.” Your body continued to twitch slightly, still coming down from the most intense high you’ve ever felt. “So beautiful, all soft and sweet like this. I’d pay–no I’d kill to see you break down like that again.”
You whimpered at his words, his voice still having a strong effect on you and your body. “Mm baby, I bet I could get one more out of you, what d’ya think? Can you cum one more time for me, like a good girl?” You looked into his eyes, seeing his hunger for you, it was carnal, lecherous.
You wanted to say not yet, you needed time to recover, to fully come down. But his eyes, they bore into you, taking over every thought of denial your mind came up with. Ignoring your oversensitive clit and tired hips, your fuzzy head nodded.
Max patted his right thigh, “Up here,” You straddled his thigh and a shiver shook through your body at the feeling of the strong mass under your panties. “Look at me. I want you to keep your eyes on me, okay?”
You nodded, once again. He grasped your hip with both hands and began to pull you back and forth on his thigh. He kept it slow at first, only beginning to slowly speed up once he noticed your sensitivity wasn't as high anymore. “Touch yourself,” He ordered.
Your hands moved immediately, both gravitating towards your breasts again, this time you slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders. You gasped at the feeling of your own fingers pulling at your hardened nipples. You twisted and pulled until they were too sensitive to the touch, and resorted to simply groping your own tits.
“So fuckin’ beautiful…” His praise hit your ears and sent shocks down your body, right to your slick pussy. You were dripping, thong completely soaked and ruined, as were Max’s pants. Your hips found their rhythm again, wanting to chase that peak he had you nearing again.
Back and forth, and back and forth. You even added in a small circling to create a different feeling than before. The closer you got, the more your sensitivity intensified. It was twice as strong as your previous high, and you didn’t know it you would be able to take it. Max could tell, he could see the way you were beginning to doubt yourself, a nervous look written on your face. “Don’t think about it baby, just let it happen. You’ve got it, doing so fuckin’ good.”
“Max, I don’t know–” Your gaze began to fall from his, but he grabbed your face, not as gently as before. “No, you’re gonna cum for me. Right now, you’re gonna cum like the good girl that you are, and you’re gonna fuckin’ love it.”
“Ohhh, my…” Your voice trailed off into a high-pitched wail, your second orgasm hitting you, causing your body to completely lock up for a few quick moments. You watched Max’s face as you came, he had a proud look on his face, and you felt it within yourself as well.
You slumped in his lap, unable to hold yourself up at all. He rubbed your back and tucked your face into his neck. “You did so well for me baby, m’proud of you.” Strong butterflies pounded in your chest, his praiseful words aiding your harsh come-down.
The longer you laid there, the more you realized how exhausted you were. Your head felt heavy again, eyes low, nearly closed with drowsiness. Your body was tired and sore, in several different places. You didn’t focus on the pain though. Max’s hands on your back and head, rubbing in rhythmic circles, had you falling deep into a peaceful slumber.
A/N: that was so hot to write omg. it took longer than expected but i'm still proud i got it out:) max was a little difficult bc i don't know his character super well (i've only seen the film once) but it was still fun playing around with it. please like and reblog (and leave plenty of comments) if u enjoy reading this. feel free to send requests/suggestions!! <333 (follow @sageispunklibrary + turn on notifs for updates)
i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.
