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gimmethatagustd · 3 months

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ultra thin & extra sensitive | kth + jjk

It takes an impromptu trip to buy condoms for Jungkook to finally confess his feelings to Taehyung.

○ Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Friends with benefits, smut, fluff

○ 10 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Grocery Store)

○ Word Count: 4,557

○ Warnings: Dick jokes lol, Jungkook is so needy, relationship drama, "what are we?" painful moments, groping, anal fingering, protected anal sex, car sex

○ Notes: I hope you all enjoy this strange fic about condoms. I'm so behind on this drabble challenge, and I don't even wanna think about it 😅

○ Post Date: March 12, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? Bambi - BAEKHYUN

“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

Jungkook smirks as Taehyung whimpers and tosses back his pretty blonde head. Jungkook has him pressed to the wall with one of his legs hiked up and hooked over Jungkook’s hip, opening him up so Jungkook can grind their clothed cocks together.

They’re both hard, Taehyung in his straight-leg jeans and Jungkook in light gray sweatpants that leave little to the imagination. Not that Taehyung needs to imagine what Jungkook’s cock looks like; he’s seen Jungkook naked plenty of times in the few months they’ve been hooking up.

Although the foyer of Taehyung’s apartment is dark, the moon casts enough light through the windows to illuminate the men as they rut against each other. It’s Jungkook’s first time here, but he’s too preoccupied to look around.

Despite their familiarity with each other, Taehyung is still shy around Jungkook. He squeezes his eyes shut when Jungkook sucks hickeys against his throat as though he’s afraid to see how devoutly Jungkook wants to devour him, chin tilted to the ceiling, and pretty pink lips parted so more whimpers can slip from them. A blush spreads across Taehyung’s cheeks like spring tulips in bloom, and Jungkook wonders how he possibly got so lucky to have something so sweet.

Jungkook nips at the curve of Taehyung's ear, and Taehyung curls his long, pretty fingers around Jungkook’s shoulders to hold himself up. Taehyung’s innocence makes Jungkook want to bite into him even deeper.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers hoarsely.

“Hmm…?”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

A breathy whine is Taehyung’s response, and even though it isn’t what Jungkook is looking for, he quietly laughs under his breath.

“You’re so fucking cute, you know that?”

“I’m not,” Taehyung protests with a gentle sigh. It isn’t true, but Jungkook leaves him be.

Jungkook lets go of Taehyung’s thigh to work on unbuttoning his jeans. Once they’re unzipped, he glides one of his hands inside Taehyung’s jeans to palm his ass over his briefs. Using his other hand, he loosens Taehyung’s fingers from his shoulder. He brings Taehyung’s hand to the back of his neck and slowly slides it upward until their intertwined fingers slip through Jungkook’s hair. Curling his fingers, he forces Taehyung to grip his hair and lets out a satisfied groan when Taehyung experimentally tugs on the dark strands.

“Anyone ever fucked you like this?” Jungkook asks in between hickeys sucked along Taehyung’s neck, leading up to the corner of his jaw. “Up against the wall?”

“No,” Taehyung sighs against Jungkook’s lips when he kisses him.

Taehyung’s answer doesn’t surprise Jungkook. Everything they’ve done has been pretty tame, mainly because Taehyung has little experience. Although Jungkook isn’t the type to get off on corruption, there’s no denying how his cock twitches when Taehyung trembles from his touch like it’s the first time he’s been held and kissed.

Jungkook sucks Taehyung’s bottom lip into his mouth and tugs gently, pulling back far enough for Taehyung to chase his mouth. When Taehyung pouts in frustration, Jungkook laughs.

“Stop teasing me.” Taehyung finally opens his eyes, and the blush on his cheeks deepens when he locks eyes with Jungkook.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice,” Jungkook promises with a shadow obscuring half his devilish expression.

Surging forward, Jungkook captures Taehyung’s lips again, shoving his tongue in his mouth to swirl it around Taehyung’s. Taehyung’s whimpering gets louder, and Jungkook groans into the kiss. He grinds their hips together even harder, spurred on by how vocal Taehyung is.

“Where are your condoms?” Jungkook asks in a breathy voice. He’s somewhat shocked by how worked up he is with just a bit of kissing and groping.

Their lips lightly brush against each other as they pant, chests heaving in tandem. Taehyung has to clear his throat before he can properly speak.

“What?”

“Your condoms?” It’s Jungkook’s turn to whine. He presses his forehead against Taehyung’s and tries to calm himself down. “You don’t get it, Tae, I need to fuck you so badly. I’ll get them for you. Are they in your bedroom?”

“I… I don’t have any condoms,” Taehyung admits meekly, turning his head to the side to force Jungkook to pull back. “I thought you had some. Y’know, in your wallet or something.”

“Fuck.” Jungkook tips his head back and lets out a drawn-out groan. “God fucking damn it, Taehyung. Why don’t you?”

“I don’t know! We always go over to your apartment; why would I need any here?”

If Jungkook wasn’t uncomfortably hard, he would find it sweet that Taehyung only associates needing condoms with being with Jungkook, meaning he clearly isn’t bringing home anyone else to fuck him. It makes Jungkook’s chest swell, knowing he’s the only one who gets to have Taehyung like this, all pink in the face and disheveled, pretty fingers tangled in his hair and cocks pressed together.

But Jungkook is uncomfortably hard and doesn’t have the patience for this.

“Let’s go.” He shoves his hand down his pants to adjust his cock. There doesn’t appear to be any precum stains on the front, but Jungkook is beyond caring.

“Go where?” Taehyung stumbles forward when Jungkook steps back and releases his grip from Taehyung’s waist.

“To the store to get condoms.”

“W-What? Right now?”

Jungkook looks up at Taehyung as he stomps his feet into his boots.

“Yes, Tae, right now.”

“But, we could just…”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows and stands with his arms against his chest, waiting.

“I could suck you off?”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook sighs and pulls him over to zip up his jeans for him, “I don’t want you to suck me off. I want to fuck you. So, please, put your shoes on so we can go to the store before I start crying.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but a small smile plays on his lips as he slips into his shoes. They’re all-white Converse with the backs smashed in from how many times he’s walked around without entirely putting them on. Nearly all of Taehyung’s shoes look like that. Jungkook finds it rather ridiculous, but it’s somehow also endearing.

Much of what Taehyung does is endearing. For example, he lingers in the doorway with Jungkook’s car keys hooked around one of his fingers and his mini leather backpack slung over one shoulder, even though a box of condoms is small enough for Jungkook to carry in his hand. The flush on his face has lessened, and he runs his pretty fingers through his hair to flatten it down. Jungkook enjoys looking at him when he’s put together or ruined.

Outside, the air is thick with humidity from a hot summer rain earlier in the day. This frizzes Taehyung’s hair and dampens Jungkook’s upper lip with perspiration. The weather does nothing to calm the heat building in Jungkook’s groin.

Driving isn’t necessary when the closest 24-hour convenience store isn’t very far away, but Jungkook isn’t interested in getting sweatier than he already is from the short walk from Taehyung’s apartment complex to Jungkook’s parked car.

“Do you like me that much? That you’d go to the store in the middle of the night when it’s so gross outside just because you want to fuck me?”

Taehyung looks at Jungkook curiously, his head slightly cocked to the side and his hands in his back pockets.

Do you like me that much?

Their relationship is about more than just a good fuck, but Jungkook is afraid to say it, and Taehyung is afraid to directly ask. Instead, he skirts around the question, asking others that are parallel but never intersect the way they should if either man wants to be honest.

Instead of answering, Jungkook grabs the strap of Taehyung’s backpack to yank him into a bruising kiss that hopefully tells him everything Jungkook wants to say but can’t.

When they finally reach Jungkook’s car, he holds the door open for Taehyung like a proper gentleman because Taehyung is sweet and soft and deserves the gentlest side of Jungkook, even if Jungkook likes being a little mean when they fuck.

“AUX?” Taehyung asks, already twirling the cord between his fingers once Jungkook slides into the driver’s seat. When Jungkook gives him the okay, he chooses a playlist that Jungkook recognizes after two songs.

“Y'know, I’ve got a Pavlovian response to our sex playlist,” Jungkook comments. He briefly looks at Taehyung before returning his eyes to the relatively empty road as he drives.

“What happens to you?” Taehyung asks like he knows the answer already.

“My dick automatically gets hard.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Taehyung brings his hand up his mouth when he laughs, his lips brushing against the back of it.

“Yes, it does. Want to check if I’m lying?”

Taehyung scoffs, but it only takes a few seconds before he’s palming Jungkook’s thigh. He’s hesitant when he does it and slow once he slides his hand between Jungkook’s thighs to gently squeeze his hard cock.

Taehyung’s next exhale is audibly shaky, and Jungkook grins but doesn’t look away from the road again.

They’re silent the rest of the short drive, Jungkook thinking about Taehyung’s hand on his cock and Taehyung lost in thought while he watches the city lights through the window and nibbles his bottom lip. It’s cute how flustered Taehyung gets, even when he does it to himself.

The embarrassment even follows Taehyung into the store. He tries to avoid standing in the aisle where condoms and other sex-related products are, but Jungkook insists that he helps choose which brand to get.

“What kind do you like? These are the ones I get, but if you want something else, we can try it out,” Jungkook says with a tap of his finger on the box he usually buys – ultra-thin and extra sensitive because he likes feeling as much of Taehyung as he can.

Taehyung skeptically eyes the boxes. He picks up one that boasts a pleasurable texture of ribs and dots on the outside of the condom.

“Does it really make a difference?”

Jungkook scrunches his nose and takes the box from Taehyung to return it to the shelf.

“Everyone I’ve hooked up with has said textured condoms are too thick and don’t feel like anything, or they hurt.”

Taehyung looks away quickly, but Jungkook notices how his expression falls into something sad, and he knows he’s fucked up.

“Tae–”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to bore you by doing the things you’ve already done with everyone else,” Taehyung says curtly. He reaches for a seemingly random box and turns on his heel.

Groaning, Jungkook grabs a bottle of lube and his usual condom brand and follows Taehyung down the aisle.

“Tae.”

“Let’s just go.”

Grabbing Taehyung’s forearm, Jungkook tries to turn him around to face him, but Taehyung yanks his arm out of Jungkooks hold. He watches Taehyung claim one of the self-checkout registers. The force with which Taehyung jabs the touchscreen to select his payment once he scans the lube and two condom boxes is concerning for his index finger, as is how violently he shoves the items into his mini backpack.

“You should have let me pay for them,” Jungkook says quietly once he’s caught up with Taehyung, falling in line with him as they exit the store and walk toward the back of the parking lot. It’s late enough that only a handful of other cars are in the lot, most likely the employees’.

“Why? Do you buy condoms for everyone else?” Taehyung snaps as he squeezes the car door’s handle.

Frustrated with the sour turn their night has taken, Jungkook covers Taehyung’s hand on the handle with his own and crowds Taehyung against the side of the car. A ball of anxiety sinks to the pit of his stomach when Taehyung refuses to look him in the eyes, and Jungkook realizes he’s never considered what it would be like to no longer have Taehyung in his life. He has taken advantage of how dependable Taehyung is, knowing he’ll always be there when Jungkook needs him.

Eventually, people grow tired. Jungkook can see that weariness and wariness in Taehyung’s eyes.

“I bought condoms for everyone else,” Jungkook admits quietly. When Taehyung scoffs, he pushes on, “But I buy condoms for you.”

It’s a horrible way to tell a guy that he likes him, but Jungkook is the first to admit that he’s terrible at this shit. Swallowing a lump in his throat and rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants isn’t enough to calm himself down, but Taehyung’s glare hurts more than the anxious ache in his stomach.

“There isn’t an everyone else, Tae,” Jungkook’s nearly pleading as he tilts his head to follow Taehyung’s gaze when Taehyung tries to look away. “It’s only you. I swear on my life, it’s just you.”

“Really?” Taehyung’s eyes are narrowed, and skepticism taints his pretty features, but Jungkook sees the vulnerability hidden behind the hard exterior Taehyung is so accustomed to crafting.

“Yes,” Jungkook breathes as he leans forward to kiss Taehyung’s forehead. “You can, I don’t know, go through my phone. Read my texts and look at my photos. See that I deleted Grindr. Whatever proof you need.”

Taehyung is silent for a few seconds. Jungkook keeps his lips lightly pressed to his forehead and breathes in the comforting scent of his peppermint and eucalyptus shampoo. He clings to that and finds it grounding when Taehyung’s following words shake him to his core.

“I went on a date with someone,” Taehyung whispers and Jungkook feels his chest constrict. He tries to breathe slowly and lets his grip on Taehyung’s waist slacken slightly.

“How,” Jungkook pauses to clear his throat, “How did it go?”

He feels Taehyung shrug, but he keeps staring out into the empty parking lot.

“Pretty good. He was nice and really cute. We went to lunch and a new art exhibit and then hung out at his place.” Taehyung’s voice is steady as he talks, but there’s an implication behind admitting that he went to this other man’s home.

Jungkook feels like he’s suffocating.

“He wasn’t you, though,” Taehyung whispers as he leans back slightly to look Jungkook in the eyes. “He was nice, but we didn’t click, I guess. He wasn’t thoughtful like you are. His jokes weren’t as funny and his music taste was horrible. And… he didn’t touch me like you do.”

Jungkook bites at his lip piercing and tries to ignore the thunderous sound of his blood rushing to his head. He can’t stop the images that flood his head of some mystery man his imagination conjures for him, touching Taehyung, kissing Taehyung, fucking Taehyung.

That mystery man wouldn’t know that Taehyung can cum untouched but isn’t fully satisfied unless he cums again with external help. He wouldn’t know that he needs to hold Taehyung after because he gets emotional sometimes, especially after a hard fuck. He wouldn’t know that Taehyung worries about being enough and how important it is to affirm him during sex.

“You don’t need to look for what you need in someone else,” Jungkook murmurs as he runs his hands up and down Taehyung’s sides.

Taehyung leans in to whisper against the corner of Jungkook’s mouth, “I need you.”

The kiss Jungkook pulls Taehyung into is frantic and rougher than how Jungkook usually kisses him. He buries one hand in Taehyung’s silky hair and grabs Taehyung’s hip with the other, pushing him against the car so he can mold his body to Taehyung’s. He wants to feel every inch of Taehyung’s body on his, to know that he has all of Taehyung, just him and no one else.

Jungkook loves Taehyung.

He has known it for a long time, but he stamps the truth so deeply inside himself that sometimes he convinces himself that he’s forgotten. But then, in moments like this, when Jungkook is flinging the car door open and crawling over Taehyung’s body as they climb into the backseat, Jungkook is forced to acknowledge the swell of love he feels when Taehyung stares up at him with such a tender expression. Taehyung’s face disappears momentarily, obscured by his t-shirt when he pulls it off and tosses it onto the floor. He slips his hands beneath Jungkook’s shirt and runs his palms up his toned abdomen, stopping when he reaches his pecs to flick his thumbs over his nipples.

“Take this off, please,” Taehyung asks sweetly, and Jungkook is a goner.

The back of the car is cramped, and two grown men trying to maneuver on the narrow seat is more than what the space is made for. They make it work with Taehyung lying on his stomach, his jeans pulled down around his knees. He keeps his legs together so Jungkook can straddle his thighs, one of Jungkook’s legs slipping off the seat and forcing him to half-kneel, half-stand. It’s an awkward position, but Taehyung seems comfortable with their shirts balled up under his lower stomach to lift his hips and his crossed beneath his head, and that’s all Jungkook really cares about.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook whines when he pulls out the random box of condoms from Taehyung’s backpack. “You bought the fucking fire and ice ones. These things will genuinely light my dick on fire.”

Taehyung snorts and turns his head to the side to get a better look at Jungkook.

“I don’t know. I just grabbed it because the colors on the box were pretty.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook tosses the box onto the floor and pulls out his preferred brand, tried and true. Setting it to the side, he opens the new bottle of lube and squirts some onto his fingers.

Jungkook assumes the fit will be tight due to Taehyung’s position since his legs are pushed together, but Jungkook is patient. He holds Taehyung open with one hand and rubs his lubed-up fingers against his rim.

Taehyung groans into the crook of his elbow and squirms from the cold lube, but he can’t move with Jungkook’s body weight on him.

“Stay still,” Jungkook murmurs with a light squeeze of Taehyung’s cheek.

The satisfaction of getting a reaction out of Taehyung dissolves when Jungkook easily slips his finger past his rim. With a shaky breath, Jungkook pulls out and adds another finger without resistance.

Taehyung never said when he went on the date, but he’s stretched enough that Jungkook massages his prostate with three fingers after only minimal stretching. He spends some time tapping and swirling his fingertips around his walls until Taehyung tries pushing against Jungkook’s fingers.

“Jungkook, please,” Taehyung whimpers, and something snaps inside Jungkook.

“Jagiya,” Jungkook rarely uses the pet name, but he knows it makes Taehyung quiver when he does. “Say my name again, jagi.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung moans when Jungkook speeds up his fingers.

The sound of his palm smacking against Taehyung’s asscheek and the squelch of lube harmonizes with Taehyung’s breathy chant of Jungkook’s name. He leans forward until his chest is pressed against Taehyung’s back, and his teeth can graze against the curve of Taehyung’s ear.

“You said he didn’t touch you like I do,” Jungkook repeats and lets out a slight hum when Taehyung nods. “Tell me what you like about how I touch you.”

When Jungkook pulls away, he leaves kisses across Taehyung’s shoulders and down his spine.

“You touch me like I’m special,” Taehyung says softly, his statement punctuated by a quiet whimper when Jungkook pulls his fingers out of him.

“What else?” Jungkook asks before tearing a condom package with his teeth.

“You’re gentle, and you actually care about how I feel. I can trust you,” Taehyung’s voice cracks when Jungkook spreads his cheeks to finally sink his cock into him in one slow but smooth thrust.

Planting one hand on the seat beside Taehyung’s waist and grabbing Taehyung’s waist with the other to press him into the seat, Jungkook leans forward and grinds his pelvis against Taehyung’s ass.

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts, “Am I too heavy on you?”

Taehyung shakes his head and reaches down to adjust his cock so it rubs against the seat at a comfortable angle every time Jungkook thrusts into him.

Despite being adequately stretched, the position makes Taehyung’s grip on Jungkook’s cock hot and tight. They’ve never fucked like this, with Jungkook straddling Taehyung’s thighs. Even though Jungkook can’t reach as deep as he likes to, the tight heat and softness of Taehyung’s ass, as well as the intimacy of having to hover over Taehyung, makes up for it.

“Feels really good,” Taehyung says softly, his eyes scrunched shut. “You’re right there.”

Jungkook knows what that means. He maintains the current angle of his hips when he thrusts into Taehyung again, the head of his cock hitting Taehyung’s prostate directly.

“Yes, fuck, Jungkook, stay there.”

Taehyung’s moans are pretty, so deep and airy that they seem to whisper a secret meant only for Jungkook. Jungkook should be the only one who gets to hear Taehyung like this. His heart yearns to call Taehyung his own, to be the person Taehyung can go to for support, to give him affection freely without feeling as though this is all just temporary.

It’s why the sex is so good, Jungkook thinks as he picks up the pace, fucking Taehyung just the way he likes it. The pace is hard and fast because Jungkook needs this. He needs to be as close to Taehyung as he possibly can and needs to mold himself until they become one, two halves making a whole. He needs to hear Taehyung moan his name when he’s on the verge of tears because Jungkook fucks into him relentlessly and latches his lips to every inch of bare skin to leave his mark so Jungkook can’t look at Taehyung without remembering that he yearns.

“Can you cum like this?” Jungkook leans down to murmur in Taehyung’s ear, drawing a string of expletives out of Taehyung that are moaned so quietly that Jungkook can hardly make them out.

“Y-Yeah, yeah.”

“Gonna cum on my cock, jagiya? Let me feel how good I am to you?”

Dirty talk embarrasses Taehyung, but Jungkook knows it turns him on anyway.

“I will, I will.”

Taehyung lifts his chin so Jungkook can kiss him. It’s sideways, and Taehyung keeps rocking up and down across the seat from each smack of Jungkook’s body against his, but it feels good to taste Taehyung while he’s inside of him.

Another thing Jungkook knows about Taehyung is that he likes to stretch out. It’s like he builds up tension inside of him, then curls into himself when he cums. It reminds Jungkook of a cat stretching after a long nap. Taehyung doesn’t have much room to do that in Jungkook’s car, but he reaches his arms above his head to grab the edge of the seat and hold himself in place as Jungkook fucks him.

Intertwining their fingers, Jungkook brings one of Taehyung’s arms behind him, bending it at the elbow so his hand rests at the small of his back. Jungkook keeps holding his hand, even when Taehyung starts squeezing it and digging his nails into his skin hard enough to hurt.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung gasps with one particularly hard thrust. “A little faster, please. I’m close.”

“God, you’re so cute, I love you so fucking much.”

The confession is so natural that it slips out without Jungkook even realizing it. The reality doesn’t sink in until he hears Taehyung moan, this time with a higher pitch and whinier, a sound Jungkook has never heard from him before. It sounds broken and desperate.

Surprisingly, Jungkook doesn’t feel the anxiety he thought he would when he considered eventually confessing. Perhaps because it is natural, something that should have happened so long ago.

Jungkook gives Taehyung what he wants, making sure not to hold him down too hard so he can move his hips to meet Jungkook’s thrusts, further stimulating his cock trapped between his body at the seat. It doesn’t matter that Jungkook’s seats are black. When Taehyung cums with a wet, sputtering sob as tears stream down his cheeks, Jungkook knows nothing matters except him making Taehyung feel good.

Pulling out, Jungkook rips the condom off and sits back on Taehyung’s thighs as he pumps his cock. His orgasm hits him so hard that he’s silent, only uttering a small groan when the last of his cum spurts on Taehyung’s ass.

“Shit,” Jungkook sighs, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath.

The car windows are so foggy that condensation drips down them, creating streaks that expose the city's lights around them. The air inside the car is muggy, smelling of sweat and cum. Jungkook may be weird, but he likes the smell of sex when it’s with Taehyung. Maybe he’s that pathetically whipped for Taehyung. If he is, he doesn’t care.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung calls hoarsely, lifting up the top half of his body so he’s resting on his elbows. “Can you clean me up?”

He’s shy when he asks, and Jungkook wonders if he’ll grow out of it. It wouldn’t matter to him, though. Jungkook loves Taehyung regardless of if he’s afraid to say cum or not.

In the front console is a disorganized stack of napkins Jungkook has collected from eating fast food far too many times. He grabs a handful of them to clean Taehyung up and is acutely aware of Taehyung watching his every move. It’s nerve-wracking because Jungkook knows what Taehyung is thinking about and thinks he knows what Taehyung will say. It will be exactly what Jungkook hopes for, yet he’s still scared.

The two men watch each other get dressed and exchange shy smiles when Jungkook smacks his head on the ceiling, and Taehyung accidentally crushes the box of fire and ice condoms. Jungkook feels like a teenager sneaking out of the house to hook up with his high school sweetheart, parked somewhere they shouldn’t be. He can’t believe he’s well into his twenties and just had sex in a grocery store parking lot.

“Do you only love me during sex? Or all the time?” Taehyung finally asks once he and the seat have been cleaned up as best as Jungkook can, and they both are fully clothed.

“All the time,” Jungkook confesses with Taehyung sitting in his lap, straddling his thighs and draping his arms over his shoulders.

“Did you say it because of my date?”

Jungkook runs his hands along Taehyung’s sides and takes his time to think about the question. It’s a valid one, but Jungkook doesn’t like the implications.

“I loved you before the date.” It’s an easy answer to give.

Taehyung runs his pretty fingers through Jungkook’s hair and kisses his forehead.

“I went on the date because I love you, and I thought you wouldn’t want to commit to being with me,” Taehyung presses his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck and breathes him in, sweaty skin and all. “I fucked myself over, though. I left the date loving you more.”

Jungkook never planned for Taehyung to enter his life and completely turn it upside down, but as he holds the back of Taehyung’s head and wraps his arm around his waist to keep him against his chest, Jungkook’s thankful for the part of him that gave him permission to love.

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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

#taehyung x jungkook #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #ut&es #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #100 drabble challenge #taekook fanfic

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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

electricity surging in the air

kimi raikkonen x reader - series masterlist

966.

kimi doesn’t get shy very often. in fact, he doesn’t even give much damns in general. at least not until he met you.

suddenly everything he does and says, he puts a lot of thought into. everything goes through about 3 levels of thought processes and evaluation if it’s the right move.

of course, he is definitely still his authentic self when he’s on dates with you — but he needs to play his cards right if he wants you to start liking him more than you already do. because, if he had to admit it out loud, you’ve already got his heart in your hands.

in a wrapped around your finger kind of way; like he’d be willing to do anything just for you.

and right now, watching you pressed up against the glass looking into the aquarium with the brightest glint in your eyes he’s seen thus far, he’d literally find a way to give you whatever the hell you want.

earlier, you were blabbing on about how you’ve always thought sharks are adorable. instantly, he had the idea of finding a way to get you one.

it’s almost embarrassing how much he’s into you. imagine — just after 1 date — he’s willing to splurge all of his money on you just to give you what you want.

to have a shark, of all things.

he watches as you excitedly point at the nurse sharks laying low, gawking at the hammerhead sharks swimming around and a great white shark chilling at the top of the tank.

“kimi, babe, look. isn’t it so adorable!”

kimi shuts his eyes, lips pressed together. you barely felt the way he tightens his grip around your hand. the way you sound saying his name, followed by the term of endearment almost brought him to his knees.

nobody has ever said his name with such sweetness before. right then and there, he is ready to give you everything he has.

is it too early to tell?

he lets out a shakey breath as he opens his eyes. he follows your finger, pointing at the hammerhead shark swimming about. “you’re right! but you know–“

“don’t.”

“–you’re much cuter than the shark.”

he smiles sweetly, turning to look down at you with. the blush creeping up your cheeks as you look away to avoid the intensity of his blue eyes.

“oh, shut up.”

he laughs, throwing his head back. he squeezes your hand and you squeeze it back, making his heart skip a beat. he taps your cheek as you turn back to him. “shy, are we?”

you scrunch your nose and raise an eyebrow. something tells him you’re not going to let him off easy. “am i? weren’t you the one who called me after i said you were hot?”

“oi!” he scoffs, now a blush creeping up his cheeks. he looks down and shakes off the embarrassment from what had happened just a couple of days ago. “that was one time! i told you i panicked.”

you hum with a teasing grin. “of course, babe,” you squeeze his hand two times before you tug him towards the direction you want to walk towards. “you know, they’ve got a gift shop here somewhere.”

before you could walk far, he tugs you back towards his body. the end of your first date, he had lingered right by your door longer than he should, kicking himself over the fact that he didn’t kiss you before you went in.

he wanted to, but he couldn’t get himself to do it. it’s typically easy for him to do things like this — the way your eyes look into his is different. there’s something about them that always makes him cower away from the gesture.

but there is no other way for him — or so he thinks — to express the way he feels about you.

you hum and tilt your head as your chest bumps into his. “something wrong? you want another shark fact? did you know that there are introvert and extrovert sharks?”

kimi gives you a smile, raising his eyebrows at your fact. and you continue talking: “and that they enjoy getting petted by humans? and then they form bonds with divers and people. they’re actually very adorable. also, lantern sharks glow in the dark. on top of that; sharks that are in the depths of the ocean can make their own flashlights via bioluminescence. and– oh, god. i’m doing it again, aren’t i?”

you shake your head and wave a hand in the air before turning away in embarrassment. you happen to find sharks very adorable, which is why you tend to go on long tangents about random fun facts you know about them.

“i’m sorry,” you apologise with a soft giggle. “you probably don’t care that much about sharks.”

he laughs, walking around you to face you once more. “you are so adorable,” he grins, cupping your cheeks. “i’d listen to you go on and on about sharks, actually.”

your eyes light up with a smile. “really? you wanna know more about sharks?”

“do i.”

you don’t know it yet, but those shark facts that you’d tell him at random that day at the aquarium would live in the back of his head forever.

even after you’ve long departed from his life, now both living your own lives without one another. sharks don’t come up too often for him, but best believe that he will always hear those facts in your voice every single time it pops up.

it makes him wish that he’d fought for you just a little harder.

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification

#kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke iguyg #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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nayatarot777 · 5 months

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Lilith in Scorpio/8th house

this is intuitive astrology. meaning that i’m making these notes based on what i intuitively pick up about this astrological point being merged with these signs. take it with a grain of salt and understand that you might not relate to everything that i get from your placement 🖤

Astrology Masterlist

scorpio/8th house themes are always surrounding the taboo areas of life: death + birth/rebirth, trauma, debt + taxes, other people’s assets that they give to you (like an inheritance, for example), conscious secrets and fears (not secrets and fears like what you find in pisces/12th house - you don’t realise exist. 8th house secrets and fears are those that you consciously know about but don’t talk about), intimacy, sexuality, shared resources, and power and control.

the first thing that i think of when i see this placement is people shaming you for your traumas. the people who literally get victim blamed for the ways that they’ve been abused, shamed, and oppressed.

you could’ve experienced shame towards the way that you grieve too. towards someone’s death or your own trauma. for some reason, people love to shame you out of purging very real and very valid emotions during the grieving process.

your lilith energy is potent in scorpio/8th house. since this sign and house is the area of taboos, people could literally treat you like you’re a taboo yourself. as if you’re a topic of conversation that shouldn’t be touched on.

this placement could make a lot of people fear you as taboos and the unknown are usually feared - therefore avoided.

^ that’s another point. you’ve probably experienced people avoiding you like the plague. simply because your energy seems ‘dangerous’ or scary in some way.

an obsession with the taboos of society - sex, death, murder - anything that you can think of that society would look at you like you’re crazy for freely talking about.

also indicates a lot of obsession with anything occult. occultism could be where you find your personal power. where you channel your rage from all of the times that you were scapegoated, oppressed, and abused. for example: someone who send dark and baneful magic to those who’ve fucked with them.

you guys have the most potent energy of a man-eater if you’re a woman. this isn’t like lilith in the 1st house/aries in which men will see you as their opponent to challenge. you’re literally seen by them as woman who are threats. threats that they can’t fight or dominate because they wouldn’t even know how to oppose you.

^ again, your feminine energy is one big taboo. and taboos are never ventured into. it’s like trying to fight the darkness. or a ghost. something that you know of but don’t understand and don’t want to. men could never.

if you find yourself suppressing this energy, then you’ll find yourself meeting people and falling victim to people (especially men) who are the worst human beings that you could imagine. murderous-type people. the people who could cause you serious harm. and these are usually men who you end up merging with heavily in relationships (as this is the sign/house of intimacy).

you could face a double dose of shame from yourself for the secrets that you know you carry. especially if they’re sexual secrets.

your sexuality could be very taboo too. i said this in the lilith in taurus/2nd house observations - lilith in scorpio/8th house is a placement that could indicate prostitution. actually having sex with clients in exchange for money, and not just using sex appeal or the image of sex to make money.

^ but random, but if you have lilith in gemini in the 8th house, or your lilith placement just has aspects to 3rd house planets/mercury, you could lead a double life that involves you selling sexual content online. and nobody knows about this.

this placement is also a placement that makes me think of people who marry rich people for the sake of gaining that inheritance money after their spouse dies. you know the young women who marry old men who are knocking at death’s door? yeah 😂

you find a lot of shame from others for your sexuality but a lot of power too. could be into power dynamics in your relationships/deep sexual relationships - like BDSM dynamics.

you have the power to manipulate people into giving you their money/possessions and assets through your sexuality. doesn’t even have to be through sex itself because your sexual energy is POTENT. you hold power over other people’s shit.

you could fear showing femininity in a way. just because you know that - considering the world we live in - femininity is not viewed as something powerful by men. and lilith in scorpio/8th house is all about holding onto power. therefore, you may keep your feminine side a secret to yourself.

could’ve experienced the most shame in long term relationships, after marriage, etc. after you gain a certain level of intimacy with someone, that person turns around and shames you.

and that’s why lilith here is a very prominent placement for experiencing extremely heavy-hitting betrayals. therefore gaining a huge fear of intimacy and being betrayed again.

your sexuality could be very dark. adding onto the sexual secrets, you could have secret kinks and fetishes that you feel like the average person would shame you and demonise you heavily for.

#lilith #scorpio #lilith in scorpio #lilith in the 8th house #astro placements #astrology placements #astro tumblr #astro observations #astro posts #astro notes #astrology

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meowzahzzz · 2 years

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bowser headcanons ft. gn reader ( ♡ )

bowser fans. monster fuckers. how are we feeling are we feeling fed. i am

to say bowser doesn’t quite understand healthy ways of expressing his feelings... is an extreme understatement.

bowser has this romanticized yet very callous conception of love. you do anything for love and it’s justified, so on and so forth.

this is why his kidnapping peach thing persists.

i want to say his “love” for peach isn’t... really love. he believes it to be love, but his feelings towards her aren’t the sort. this isn’t to say he’s abusive to her (the most he’s done is kidnap her and the whole situation lost it’s “distressing” impact Long ago). rather that bowser confuses his emotions a lot, and rather than think about it too hard, he just goes with whatever’s easiest.

~ pre-relationship

when you come in, bowser’s infatuation with peach is thrown out the window.

peach is grateful she’s not the apple of bowser’s eye anymore, but she does worry about you being his now.

i don’t imagine his attempts at “kidnapping” end well. either you kick his ass and tell him to go to therapy or peach comes to the rescue with mario (and they also tell him to go to therapy).

bowser, surprisingly (or maybe not-so surprisingly), takes it to heart. and he starts to realize his thing for peach wasn’t... what he thought it was.

he used to just kidnap her over and over again, try to win her over and over again; her rejection didn’t faze him, but he was almost expecting the triumphant feeling of Love (whatever that could possibly be) to just... show up during these attempts.

of course he’s a rough and crude turtle kaiju king, but there is a softness under that shell.

bowser, at first, tries not to think too hard about it. rejection didn’t really sting the way this did before.

he’s embarrassed to hell and back, refusing to speak on it and when it’s brought up by kamek (”quit moping about the rejection, your highness”) he gets red in the face and his body stiffens like he’s turned to a statue, his voice loud and cracked (”I’M NOT MOPING, SHUT UP *tearing up*”)

when he is eventually forced to face his embarrassment and the stinging pain of rejection, he tries to think of ways to legitimately apologize. and if that works out, he definitely plans on winning you over.

and speaking of that apology, he definitely tries to chicken out at first. he’s so embarrassed. he’s the koopa king, for pete’s sake! he’s the leader of his army, he’s a ruler to be feared! yet he cowers at the thought that you’ll send him back with his tail between his legs.

he apologizes in person, despite how many times he begged to just send a note or something and kamek would have to hit him on the head with his staff (”i didn’t raise you to apologize over a note, your highness.”).

you can tell he’s genuinely sorry. there’s shame in his expression; he can’t quite look you in the hand, he fiddles with his hands, and he coughs when the words don’t quite want to come out. but when he apologizes, he does mean it.

it probably takes a bit for you to forgive him because he did come on rather strong. but he’s overjoyed when you do forgive him (he’ll probably jump in the air with excitement before going back to his “tough cool guy” act where he’s like ‘yeah i knew you’d forgive me’ *goes back home to cry tears of joy*)

you two start off as friends. and something bowser finds odd is that, despite his own feelings (as strong as they’ve started to grow), he’s... okay with that. just that.

there’s no urgency. he can just enjoy your company, flustered as it may make him.

there’s a side to bowser you, nor have the others (peach, mario, etc.), have seen before. nobody ever quite believed he was as one-dimensionally villainous as he tried to come off as, but bowser would’ve been damned to have exposed it.

he still wears his spiked shell, but it’s as though he’s coming out of hiding around you.

his voice, while still gruff, isn’t so performative; there’s no outrageous evil plans or self-conceptions of grandeur, just mundane (maybe even domestic) conversation.

of course he still wants to look cool in front of you, but he doesn’t have to cover up who he is inside either.

he doesn’t care what you want to do or what you talk about, you have this attention either way. and you can’t help but feel that... you like his attention.

there’s a gentleness he shows you that nobody else gets to see, and it’s so evident in the reactions you get from the others just by talking about your... “hang-outs” together.

he’s an absolute gentleman, of course. kamek can excuse kidnapping, but he draws the line at being ungentlemanly.

opening doors for you, holding out a chair for you, being a subtle protector when he thinks things are gonna go south, etc.

you’re a person bowser values and he’s so new to these feelings he has, and he wants to protect them as much as he wants to protect you.

to say you have certain feelings about him as well is very much an understatement.

even when you can’t specifically name it, you feel that he sees you like you hang all the stars in the sky. you’re one of the only people who have gotten a genuine laugh out of him, let alone a smile. and it’s his gentle nature specifically towards you that just makes you melt.

at first, the thought seems ridiculous, liking bowser, the koopa king of all evil, like... like that! but you think of it again, of how you’ve been friends and all the times you’ve spent together, and you feel as though you’ve been wrapped with warm ribbons, heat rising to your cheeks. it’s undeniable.

he definitely confesses to you first. a hopeless romantic at heart, he shows up at your doorstep, all fancily dressed with a mushroom and flower bouquet in hand, asking if you’d want to go on a date---with him.

his cheeks are flushed, and he stares at the floor, unable to look at you in fear he’ll find disgust on your face.

but wide-eyed and flustered yourself, you accept.

and when he looks up, there’s this... almost this shock on his face at first, mouth slightly agape, like something he never, ever could’ve expected to happen---just happened.

it doesn’t take long for him to widely grin and laugh as he picks you up into the air and holds you close to him, the bouquet sadly getting a bit crushed while he holds you in this embrace.

~ relationship

bowser is the happiest and luckiest koopa in the land. undoubtedly.

even with your relationship’s ups and downs, it’s like he’s always in the honeymoon phase.

most of his “evil schemes” are reduced to mischivieous pranks which you, and his koopalings, often participate in.

speaking of the koopalings, you have to get along with them. bowser jr, wendy, roy---all of them.

those children are his heart, and to see you not only get along with them, but be nurturing to them... his heart grows twice its size.

part of why he was so obsessed with peach was because he felt as though they needed a “mother” in their lives. he may be the king of evil and all, but he never wanted to be a failure of a father to his kids.

whether you’re aware of it or not, you helped him realize that... he wasn’t failing his kids, they didn’t “need” someone else to fix his mess. he was a good enough father on his own. and it’s only a plus to have you around, too.

bowser loves domestic stuff, he craves it. baking pies, hanging around with the koopalings---any of the most normal, mundane activities become a dream when he’s doing them with you.

he would also really like for you to join him when he and the others go kart racing, golfing, etc. if you aren’t already.

he loves the competition, loves rallying up his new family together (you included) so they can go kick that red hat wearing plumber’s ass! ...and his green brother too, i guess.

he’s just become a happier guy in general.

mario certainly appreciates it, actually being able to befriend the king koopa.

and peach likes being able to not be someone’s strange obsession, and she also considers you to be a good friend.

daisy LOVES it at first because she thinks there’s drama, but then you reveal everyone’s happy and there’s no conflict, she’s like oh... okay i guess. 😐

luigi is frightened by bowser, no surprise there, but he’s happy for you! luigi’s a bit of a hopeless romantic himself so he finds the things you and bowser do endearing, even if it is hard thinking of bowser being sweet.

you two are the cutest motherfuckers ever. in the mushroom kingdom. in the galaxy. im so jealous

#LETS GOOOOOOOO I LOVE THIS #im also doing luigi next <3 #bowser x reader #nintendo x reader #monster x reader #nintendo #bowser #super mario #self-insert #f/o

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sprout-fics · 1 year

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Ghost and Gaz have barely any interaction in MW2022, and it makes me curious about what the relationship is like between them. They’re both part of the same taskforce, and based on the way Ghost immediately recognized Gaz, they’ve met at least once before. Based on the missions in the game, it’s possible that they’re almost never worked together before. Still, I like to imagine how they might interact off-screen or in a more casual setting. This is a bit of my interpretation of these two.

Personally, I think Gaz heard about ‘The Ghost’ long before he signed on with Price. The rumors about Ghost were often exaggerated, and Gaz could tell that. As a result, he probably dismissed Ghost at first as some type of arrogant prick or a gritty edgelord. To his surprise, Ghost was neither of those when they met. Instead he was this huge, silent, lurking man with a clear respect for Price and a cold, leveled stare for Gaz. Quiet, abrasive when he talked, but incredibly skilled and dangerous.

Still, I imagine that Gaz, perceptive as I like to imagine him, had a moment where he and Ghost met eyes for the first time. It was then that Gaz realizes those rumors weren’t just fiction. The cold, unflinching weight of Ghost’s stare on him, devoid of life and yet promising a distant, imminent end has a shudder running up his spine.

Bloody hell. He thinks. He’s actually dead.

It may not have been the case canonically, but I like to think Ghost and Gaz ran a few missions together pre Las Almas. Same with Soap, though that’s a different story. It was through these missions that Gaz was able to witness Ghost truly in action and see the full, lethal effect of him in action. The man uses a blade like a butter knife, doesn’t flinch under fire, can snap a man’s neck like twisting a bottle cap. I think it both startles Gaz to see, but damn if it doesn’t instill a healthy amount of respect (and fear) in the sergeant.

On Ghost’s end, I imagine he sniffs at Gaz at first the same way he does with Soap. A young, lucky, upstart sergeant that has some experience under his belt but has yet to see the full and startling scope of war that he and Price have. He’s seen the man’s file though, and the fact alone that Price trusts him to such an extent is good enough for him. Besides, on those first few missions Gaz does more than haul his weight. He demonstrates his aim, shows his clean, practiced maneuvers, obeys orders with little question, drags a marine from the line of fire and compresses down on his wound, and tosses a frag grenade right back to its sender.

Yet it’s after the successful mission that Ghost sees Gaz bump against Price with that big, pleased grin that Ghost gets it. While Price was the one to drag him back, to help Simon put himself together again into something mildly resembling human, it isn’t the same. There’s a warmth between Gaz and Price that he feels almost like he’s intruding upon, a bond that goes beyond mentor and mentee and easily passes into the realm of friendship. The more Ghost looks at it, the more he sees what Price sees in Gaz. Intelligence, drive, dedication, but above all loyalty.

It’s something Ghost wishes he had more experience receiving.

Ghost goes off on a number of solo missions, Gaz continues working with Price.

Then there’s the missiles. Hassan. Las Almas. Shepherd. Graves. The mask. Chicago.

When the dust settles, there’s Makarov.

I don’t know how all of the team recognizes Makarov, and honestly I think it’ll be more interesting to see how that happens. I do like to think the team starts working a little more closely in the months that follow in-game. Ghost and Gaz start getting used to each other, start learning each other’s habits.

Ghost knows that Gaz is an early riser, that he likes his coffee black. Gaz knows Ghost likes to have his meals in his room where he can not only eat in peace, but without others staring at the litany of scars that snake from his jaw up to his eyes. Ghost learns to take Gaz’s needling jokes, and Gaz gets easier at offering them. Gaz learns Ghost hates certain foods, and realizes it’s because they all have the same kind of grainy, sandy texture that brings back bad memories. Ghost helps patch things over with Price when he and Gaz have a disagreement, and Gaz recognizes when Ghost is slipping back into old, bad habits that drag him down into something rotted inside him.

They start leaning on each other more often. Ghost patches Gaz up after Gaz takes a bullet to the thigh on a mission, and easily tosses him over his shoulder to carry him to safety. Gaz gets better at seeing the fractures that belong less to Ghost and more to Simon, and begins to understand the man underneath the mask. He learns to recognize Ghost’s silent and dangerously subtle ups and downs, and knows better than to show his surprise when Ghost starts wearing his mask less often just around the team.

Gaz gets Ghost Kentucky bourbon for his birthday, giving him space on the anniversary of his family’s death. Ghost learns about Gaz’s family, his two nagging older sisters and his dad, retired from the military. He sees Gaz’s smile when he talks about the people waiting for him when he gets home, and Ghost silently vows to himself to make sure he gets Gaz back safely. The bond there never runs as deep as Gaz has with Price, or Ghost has with Soap, but there is trust there built on oaths, brotherhoods, bonds, and the same loyalty Ghost always craved from the people around him.

Gaz learns to recognize when Ghost smiles under the mask.

#simon ghost riley #simon 'ghost' riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle 'gaz' garrick #mw22 #cod mw22 #ghost/gaz #drabbles #headcanons #and scene #I could say more but honestly this is probably enough for now

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alargehunkofdebris · 10 months

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The Unseen Apology Dynamic (And Dancing)

The thing about TV and media (and life in general) is that it can often give a biased, unrealistic look of a relationship simply by showing only a few days of it. This happens with reality shows, but it also happens with fictional shows. In terms of Good Omens, from what we’ve seen in the two seasons, we’re given the impression that Crowley is always the one admitting he’s wrong, with Aziraphale always waiting for him to come back and apologize.

Now, as far as this story goes, that is the case. We, narratively, need Aziraphale to have this arc of admitting he’s wrong about this very big thing he’s always been wrong about because the show is set up that way and this is the story it's telling. However, in terms of their actual relationship over many, many years, this has (likely) not been the set dynamic; I think the two of them have a very balanced history of being right and wrong, and admitting it accordingly. We have evidence, with the receipts Aziraphale provides about his frequency doing the apology dance, that he's no stranger to being absolutely in the wrong. In fact, there’s a good chance this is the first time Crowley’s had to do the apology dance himself in a very long time. With the vehemence that Aziraphale gave those dates, it sounds as though he had given the last several of the dances—there wouldn’t be any need to list them off with such vigor if the dance has been performed equally in the last 400ish years.

Now, I also don’t think Aziraphale is the only one that made mistakes in the past 400 years, either. That doesn’t seem right. It could simply be because Aziraphale just never pulled the “apology dance” card, and has always settled for a simple spoken apology or (more likely) food offering. The dance seems like a very Crowley thing to ask, because food isn’t as big an interest and speech isn’t something Aziraphale has any trouble with (unlike Crowley, who uses one thousand syllables to say three words).

I’d also believe that their dynamic is more “one who makes a lot of small errors, and the other who makes rarer, but heftier errors.” Crowley would get away with a lot of small apologies for smaller mistakes, whereas Aziraphale’s screwups are fewer, but bigger, and Crowley uses the rare occasions to have fun with it. He knows angels don’t dance, so he uses it as a unique punishment.

And as a kind of side note, this gives all kinds of weight behind him saying “You don’t dance” to the person he routinely made dance over hundreds of years. It’s quite a funny hidden joke, but it also just shows how their relationship is growing. I’m imagining B99, and Jake and Amy’s relationship pre-dating. Lots of jokes, lots of messing with each other. The apology dance is like the bet in the first season, with Jake forcing Amy to wear that awful dress on their horrible date. Then, later on, they actually have a grown-up conversation on the roof, where they learn things about each other, and it’s where their relationship really starts.

Crowley made Aziraphale do funny dances over the years as an apology, but only just finds out Aziraphale is the only angel who ever loved dancing. They know each other so well in so many ways, but absolutely not at all in other ways. They know how to joke with each other, have good conversation and debates, bicker and apologize in equal measure, know each other’s every tone of voice and current habit, but they still have past lives they’ve not even begun to unpack. That’s what’s happening now. It’s the best part of a relationship, really. The “learning about” phase.

They just need to kinda get over this slightly large speedbump before they get back on track.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #gos2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #gos2 #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta

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morallyinept · 8 months

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Polynesian Kiss - A Max Phillips One Shot

Summary: It’s that time of the month, and your period cramps force you to call in sick at work, but Max is only too keen to help you feel better. Isn’t he such a nice boss? And vampires get a bad rep, tsk, tsk…

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/blood/menstration kink/sex whilst menstrating/oral F receiving/fingering/anal play/general vampire noms/Max is just a bloodsucking bastard and we love him for it.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: After rewatching Bloodsucking Bastards again, this abomination came to me. I make no apologies for it. If you’re currently suffering through your monthly woes, I feel you. Hold strong, besties.

MAIN MASTERLIST | MAX PHILLPS MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“Hey, hotshot. How’s my best PA?”

“Max. I’m your only PA. You ate the others.” You titter with a wry smirk to him with the phone pressed to your ear.

“Guilty, as charged.” He chuckles down the phone, and it’s like you can see that razor sharp gleam as it spreads across his lips reflecting at you here, like a dazzling mirror shard that blinds as deep as it lacerates.

“Are you in the office?” You query knowing he’s a stickler for early starts, seeing as he doesn't sleep himself, but there’s a foreign commotion you can hear around him in the background.

“En route. Getting my caffeine fix. You want me to pick you up a ‘chino? Extra cream, right? My treat.” He grins down the line and it leaves prickles flooding over your skin. “Ooh, they’ve got those cinnamon swirls I like. Scandalous.” He snorts deliciously around a moan and you feel it steam between your thighs.

“No. Uh, thank you. Listen. I’m not coming in today,” you begin intrepidly.

“Oh no. We’ve got the final audit to prepare for, was counting on ya slugger… Six shots please, and a cinnamon swirl. No, make it two swirls. Fuck it. I’ll go to Pilates this week.” He merges fluidly in between conversations with you and the drive-thru window.

“Although, I already know we’ve smashed it.” Max snickers with a husky breath to you. "The stats are off the fucking wall!" He sounds as excited as a little boy who has just discovered his penis for the first time.

“So modest.” You smirk.

“Hey, my management is style is highly effective. You’ve seen the results.”

You smile faintly. “Mmhm. Nothing like the constant threat of imminent death to drive success...”

“You better believe it, honey. No, you have a nice day, champ.” You hear the sound of his electric window winding up and can imagine those hands of his bound tightly in his black leather gloves, so the sun doesn't penetrate his skin, as he reaches out through the dark window just rolled down enough for him to take his coffee order.

Driving with Max is like driving in the pitch dark constantly. Blacked out windows and the air conditioning blasting ferociously in the summer heat making his Mustang feel like an unrelenting ice box.

“What’s up, beautiful? You’re sounding verklempt.” His tone is serious now, concerned even over the masculine power roar of his engine, and it makes you melt.

“I’m uh… Not feeling too great.” You sigh, wrapping your arm around your stomach as another cramp rips through your womb.

“Oh.” You can almost hear him pout. “You got the flu or something?”

“No.” You state toneless.

“Has it happened?” His voice is lower and it sends shivers down your spine alerting your nipples to wake up into stiff, aching peaks in subjugation.

You nod even though he can’t see. “Yeah.” You whisper.

“You’re early this month.” his voice is but a low din, a growl even.

“I am?” You question, perplexed.

“Yeah. By two days.” You hear him suck in a deep breath and then click his lips. He keeps track of it better than you do. “Okay then. Get prepared. Rest. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

"Max, your meetings-" You don't have time to finish your limp protest.

"I said, I'll be there as soon as I can." He snarls darkly before making a kissy noise down the line.

You hear the phone hang up before you can argue again at how his diary today is simply too full, but he’s gone and you put yours down on the table in front of you.

You sit back, folding your arms tightly over your abdomen and sigh out waiting, your heels thudding against the floor occasionally; some automatic anxious reaction that originated from somewhere in your childhood no doubt.

A bit like biting your nails down to the skin until they're sore and tight, or shaking your knee incessantly without realising until someone yells at you to stop fucking doing that!

The first few times it had happened, it had been unpredictable - he was unpredictable.

A volatile mess that scared you the first time he was alone with you in his office; his voice leaving gnarly claws to protrude through the walls to come and get you.

Max Phillips was unlike any other man - any other boss - you’d ever known, although he wasn’t a man, not really.

There was a haunting aura about him, a distinct eeriness that hung off of his Peter Pan-esque shadow that laughed on its own, and you scoffed at first when he’d suggested it. Like it was a joke of some kind; a disgusting, unhygienic joke.

Max didn't laugh, however. He was deadly serious. Emphasis on the deadly.

But then he’d tapped into your curiosity with those wandering brown eyes and hypnotic smirks around pearly canines that had a knack of making you feel like you could walk on cotton candy clouds.

He had mutated any trepidation you'd had until you’d agreed, nodding like a puppet, and you were certain at that point there probably wasn’t anything you wouldn’t agree to where Max was concerned.

He was fucking beautiful and yet under it all, somewhat inherently terrifying.

And it turned you on so much. God, it was fucking unrelenting the way the tops of your thights now constantly stuck themselves together with your slick.

You had sensed it about him, unsure exactly what it was - what he was entirely. That dominant, toxic swagger about him, amped up on fuckboi steroids, that would cause carnage in the office, and you could never put your finger on it. The unusually high turnover of staff, the lingering stench of copper on his breath. The fact the blinds were always drawn and the air conditioning was always on, to the point you could see your breath.

You never spoke about it, none of you. Until the time he tore up the office and replaced all the bone idle employees with the walking undead and then it made perfect sense; he was a vampire, d’uh.

He said you could trust him though. He said he wouldn’t turn you, unless you wanted it - you didn't - and you believed him. He had been true to his word; he hadn’t hurt you at all - not without your express consent for him to take a little nibble on your jugular now and again anyway.

He liked it when you repelled him, made him work harder for it. Fuck, it made him so hard in his tight suit pants when you did that. Strutting around the office in your short skirts and barely-there blouses just to make him see red and chew on his tie.

He’d promoted you, although it was more of a candid expectation seeing as he’d picked his teeth clean with your predecessors.

You did in fact trust him enough to invite him into your home and let him roam unbidden and free inside it and do all those things to you that made your toes curl in the deliciously right way.

Fuck buddies with your boss. Or was it blood brothers now?

You couldn’t help but become enthralled by his spooky enthrall somewhat more and more, and was now resorting to adding this monthly rendezvous to your clandestine proclivities with him as though you had completely lost your sanity, and perhaps you had.

Max was always sharp and concise, straight to the point and no funny nonsense, ma’am. Unless you count him fucking you, bent over his desk, whilst you attempt to type up the meeting minutes as anything but serious.

He could talk his way into anything, including your cunt on a regular turn.

Somewhere inside, it made you shiver. Like something wicked and disgusting was unfurling and leaving those sharp nails to rake down your spine that make you feel sick and giddy in wanton anticipation.

It had to be something that was shameful, immoral; taboo, and yet you willingly engaged in it. You wanted it, craved it as much as he did it seemed.

You just craved him.

You take in a deep breath, the cramping that was present since it had begun in the early hours is deep and twisting in your gut, seeming to increase in its ferocity - it’s like it knows and is getting itself into an excitable tizz.

You get up and make your way upstairs ready to prepare, clutching your stomach as you go.

You run the shower in the bathroom; he likes you to be clean. Or as clean as you can be at this time of the month anyway before he dirties you up again.

Day one is always the worst - the heaviest and most painful - but the absolute best time for Max; the most important day where the blood is fresh and plentiful - when you are incredibly ripe for the plucking sweetheart, as he once put it.

You climb into the shower, washing your hair and body with fruity scents that would make his mouth salivate, and the hot, inviting water starts to soothe the incessant pang pulling inside your uterus.

There was no pain killer; Max had said it made the blood taste weird so you refrained from taking any. It would barely scrape the sides anyhow. No, the only thing that could tame it completely was him.

But at this point, after the hot water subsides, the cramps increase in their veracity. A period is the equivalent of a heavy kick in the balls to a man.

No, make that several hundred kicks in the balls, then stamping on them relentlessly.

Or, imagine someone has taken a sledge hammer to them instead; just whacking the shit out of them tirelessly.

Yeah? Well, period pain is fucking worse, buddy.

Feels like someone is twisting your insides without a let up, and then pulling them apart slowly just to spite you. Some women would tell you that child labour hurts less than menstrual cramps.

They would be fucking right about that.

I think my vagina hates me. I’m not sure what I did to piss her off…

You groan out as another cramp thunders through your core. You look down to see red spots making marble spirals around your feet in the suds, like inkblots being diluted in the water as they swill down the drain. It’s kinda pretty in an abstract way, as you’re mesmerised by those budding tulips for a while.

You clench internally at what is to come and once out of the shower, dried and dressed in a robe and a clean pair of white cotton panties - without a tampon or towel as instructed by Max, thems the rules, baby - you brush through your hair after blow drying it and wait for him to come to you.

The waiting is the worst part.

You’re sure he’ll be there in the office frantically rearranging his diary, cancelling meetings for you as he gulps desperately at his strong coffee. It curbs the cravings, he'd said after you’d queried his collection of empty six-shot espresso cups collecting in a temple on his desk with a raised eyebrow.

You gear yourself up to the point your pussy is already sopping and you're desperate to appease yourself with some release. But you never can bring yourself to, knowing that if you save it - save it all for him to have - it would be so much more sweeter.

Thinking of Max makes your clit swell and throb, that tingle that teeters on the edge of pain and makes it uncomfortable and heavy inside your panties, but the moment he would touch you, it would be worth all the edging and gnawing pressure.

You can feel yourself getting wetter down there and knowing it isn’t just all the blood makes you smile sinisterly.

When he finally arrives, he lets himself in.

You could hear him pull up in his red Mustang and the creaky squeak of the door slamming shut after that deep roar of his engine was reduced to a dying purr.

Those quick scraping footsteps of his polished leather shoes against the gravel as he plays hopscotch with the shadows out of the direct sun.

The sound of him using the key you gave him to let himself into your apartment. Inviting the monster in to come and play with your guts and offals.

You had to invite him in the first time. Laughing as he physically couldn't cross the threshold of your door without verbal invitation. Like there was an actual barrier there. Now, he comes and goes as he pleases.

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, you would wake to find him pawing at you; fangs and cock bared. He takes from you whenever he wants, and you always let him.

Goose bumps flood all over your body and tingles run tightly across your scalp in suspense.

As he rounds the stairs up to your door, Max can smell you already and his gut rumbles as does his loins inside his tight, navy suit pants.

Once in your apartment, he pushes the door open to your bedroom to see you lying on the duvet with a towel spread underneath you, and you're wrapped up in a fluffy robe looking a little worn and tired despite flashing your effervescent smile for him.

“Hey,” you beam at him and he shuts the bedroom door behind him with a gentle click.

He’s holding a small posy of flowers and it makes you smile that the vampire is a little bit of a sentimental doof under it all.

He stands there watching you and keeps his distance for a few moments as you shuffle upright; a hot water bottle is revealed to him that's tucked inside the folds of your gown resting against your stomach to quell the pain.

“Are those for me?” You ask, as he puts them in the vase on your dresser, discarding the old ones that are slightly withered now into the trash can.

They are pink and bulbous and always a token of affection in thanks for what he is about to do to you. But you don’t see it as a quid pro quo at all. You want this just as much as he does. The peonies are just a pretty bonus.

Max nods at you and smiles thinly through his pink lips.

“How you feeling, baby?” He queries. He loosens his tie and then slides it out from under the shirt collar completely and tucks it into his back pants pocket.

“I’ve been better.” You say.

“I can smell it.” He sighs, smirking. "Pungent. Mmm."

You nod slowly. “I know.”

“Show me.” He instructs, removing his suit jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves to reveal tan arms. An unusual trait for a vampire, you think.

You remove the hot water bottle and plonk it on the floor by the bed and untie your gown, slipping it off over your shoulders. Puffy nipples that were embedded asleep inside your warm areolas greet him and he stares like a letch at them, licking his lips.

You rest back on your elbows with your knees drawn up and he zones in on the damp, bloody patch that has seeped through your cotton panties peeking back at him between your ankles.

Incredibly exposed before him - the most intimate you could ever be with him - you're spread vulnerable and showing him exactly what he's after as you part your legs. The red patch is soaking into your panties like a flower slowly blooming and opening up just for him.

You pull your panties up by the waist band, using them as reins as you rub them against yourself, smearing it in further. He watches with a thick smirk as you moan and pant at the feel of them grazing against your engorged clit.

It feels fucking delicious.

“Take them off,” Max directs with a hiss between his teeth, lying his jacket down on the chair by your dresser after folding it neatly.

You shimmy them down slowly and hold them out to him. His long, thick fingers snatch them from your hands and immediately they go to his nose.

He sniffs in deep and his eyes roll into the back of his head leaving just the whites, before he puts the crotch of them inside his mouth and sucks deeply against the damp, stained cotton.

A desperate catch in the back of his throat he can all but choke on, sounds out of him like a wolf howling at the moon as he growls out in satisfaction.

The taste of your syrupy fluids and blood dancing over his tongue in a delightfully salty-chrome tango, is firing his synapses and setting his whole body alight.

He’s barely holding it together as you notice him visibly shaking.

“O-open your legs,” he growls menacingly through his mouthful, peering down at you and fighting to stave off his other face from making an appearance - his true face that he knows unnerves you. You do as he instructs, desperate to please your marauding boss.

You watch as he shudders more and sucks greedily at your panties, arousing you further as he stares at your glistening, ruby soaked cunt with eyes turning more jet by the second.

Max clocks the sanguine vision of you spread before him on the bed, making his mouth salivate and his fangs ache to protrude fully. He blinks away the red mist descending upon him and swallows through a now tightly constricted throat.

He puts the panties inside his jacket pocket for safekeeping and kneels on the end of the bed, crawling up it like an ominous spider creeping towards you.

"All for me," he purrs with a devilish grin.

He runs his lips against your knee and up your thigh as he descends upon you. His teeth catch on your nipple making you gasp before his tongue soothes it with a wet pop out of his mouth.

He takes your wrists and pulls you down towards him, positioning you just right so you are lying fully supine now; the towel is still spread out underneath you, not that you’ll need it.

He’ll make sure to get every last drop of you.

“Come here, you.” He growls and cold mist is pouring out of his mouth onto your body. "Going to eat you the fuck up."

Max can smell it; see the glistening claret shine around your pussy lips sparkling at him, and that plumpy clit growing and swelling out of the hood of your skin desperate for a good lick.

Droplets of crimson fluid bead at your entrance and a couple had rolled down your skin towards your ass leaving a delicious track for him to devour.

It’s darker in colour around your sodden hole and the iron rich smell is driving him crazy, his jaw twitching and cracking. “There’s so much,” he says with keen appraisal. “Does it hurt?”

Max runs his hand up your leg and rests it on your abdomen; his palm splayed across it like a giant starfish swamping your navel, and feeling the coolness emanate from it as it's absorbed into your skin makes you whine with need.

His healing hand soothing you as he presses onto you a little with his weight and it's those small gestures like this from him that make it all better to endure through the pain somehow.

That make you believe you could mean something more to him than just being a walking, talking bloodbag.

You nod and bite your lip as his fingertips feel like they throb and burn on your skin’s surface despite their cold.

“I’ll make it all better, baby.” Max assures. And you know he will - he always does.

His dark, now almost fully black eyes, flick down to your sopping slit as he shifts, and he cranes his head forward a little, licking up the length of your seam slowly with a flat, pressed tongue.

The taste of you floods his taste buds and senses immediately like he’s just shot up.

You throw your head back taking in a deep, heavy hit of oxygen. The feel of his cool breath against you and the slither of his serpent tongue leave electric sparks flooding through your veins.

"Mmm, Max..." You shiver and grin.

His hand is still on your stomach, thumb stoking in little circles below your belly button; his other reaching towards your centre where his long fingers are sliding and probing against the edges of your sodden slit.

Max runs his index finger along the fleshy ribbons of your folds that are dyed a deep, entrancing scarlet. He would go to push it inside your tasty well and then pull away, teasing you.

“Mmm,” you moan, your body squirming and flinching under him.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Max simmers, smirking.

He knows what he's doing when he winds your body up like this. With that darned smile he can get away with anything and you both fucking know it as it slithers across his face like a snake about to attack its prey ferociously.

“Please,” you whine. "Don't tease me, not today."

“You’re so fucking cute when you’re needy.” He soothes and plants a little kiss just above your clit making you groan further in frustration. He pouts and makes his voice a little squeaky. "You like that, baby? Hmm? Like it when I tease your little, needy pussy like this?"

"Max, please!" You growl this time. "Just fucking eat me."

He snickers and pats onto your pussy before rubbing his fingers all in it, knocking against your hard clit through the squelches, and running the pads all over those fleshy, swollen lips. Finger painting inside the rich red that coats them making them shiny like latex, before putting them inside his gluttonous mouth.

Max groans out as he sucks and licks each of them clean, savouring the metallic taste and dipping in again and again before he presses his lips to your sex finally to feast.

"Oh shit!" You simper.

You feel his tongue dart in and out in quick succession and the flesh on your legs dissolve. He removes his hand from your stomach and spreads your lips with his thumbs, opening you up for him and running his tongue in your wet slick, flicking back and forth across the hard nub of your spongy clit.

“Fuck,” you whine seeing stars and feeling the heat simmering in your lower abdomen start to boil.

He sucks and gnaws on it; slurping loudly around it and pulling it between his pert lips before letting it go, sending your body erratic and writhing under his expert touch.

“Max...” You groan out utterly beside yourself.

“Say my name, baby. Let me hear you.” Max coerces with a mirthy chuckle and suckles on it again, pinching his teeth around it and watching you lose your shit every time.

“Oh fuck, Max!” You wail as your back arches and your pussy spasms. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Tastes so good,” he confirms. "Want to devour you," he grunts darkly at you. The skin on his face darken a little, his muscles and features changing shape; shadows becoming more prominent.

"Eat me all up?" You squeak, your fingers gripping tight around the duvet.

"Until there's nothing left of you." His voice changes; it's deeper, more throatier and you know the vampire within is awake and stirring now. "Gonna rip this cunt open!"

Your right thigh judders uncontrollably as he polishes that pearl with his tongue; flicking back and forth with acute speed and bringing your first come session of the day so easily.

Growling and grunting loudly as he feasts on you with unhurried abandon. His grip on your skin is harder and you can see the strain whitening his knuckles as he fights to hold back from fully vamping out.

"Oh fuck!" You keen, shaking and tensing.

He watches, his dark eyes flicking up as his mouth stays firmly clamped to your slit, as your breasts jiggle and your nipples are as hard as diamonds.

Your whole body jolts and jerks hard before you flatline under him when you can take no more.

You’re stunned, smashed around the head with gold stars, and panting as your focus shifts back to his creeping shadow between your legs after being blind and boneless.

Your face is all red; nipples swollen as you come wildly in his plundering mouth.

You watch him with blown out pupils mouthing all over your pussy; clit pulsing under his thrashing tongue and ready for more as you feel it start to tighten and cinch again.

"Mm-maax!" You groan. It's so senitive, so plump and swollen. So... delicious.

Smirking, Max curls his middle two fingers into your soaked, scarlet entrance and laps up his reward; your blood, your come, smearing around his lips messily, like trying to apply lipstick on a rollercoaster.

He fucking loves it.

"You wanna come again?" He taunts darkly through a raspy smirk.

He hums out in satisfaction as he drinks more from you greedily, sticking his tongue in further and further to get more from that sodden inkpot that feels like it’s gushing constantly for him now.

He pushes your legs up by the backs of your thighs, opening you up and licking down your gooch towards that puckered urchin of your ass hole, where a lusty mix of his saliva, the blood and your pussy slick had dripped down it creating a wonderful cocktail that he would get drunk on happily, all day.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m having a reeeally good time.” He slurps menacingly. “So glad I cancelled that meeting with the Bordstein Group. Mmm, fuck.”

Your neck cricks up at him. "Wait. You cancelled it? They were hard bastards to pin down..." You whine as he laps against your ass hole and pushes the tip through your rim. "Oh, that's so good, Max. Oh Jesus..."

"You can re-arrange it. It's cool." He shrugs, his mouth full of you.

"You make it sound easy. Pete is a - oh fuck, yeessss - a-a busy man."

"Look, if he wants a collaboration, he'll make time." Max snorts. "You can sweet talk him, baby. Now shut up and give me another one." He smooshes you further into his mouth with a quick yank of your hips upward.

You yelp and chortle waspily as he dives back in. He runs his tongue around the sticky rim of your ass and slathers around it before sliding his index finger in as he works his mouth back towards your bloodied snatch, clamping around it once more as he drinks you down.

He finger fucks your tight hole as he eats out your trembling cunt, and he can feel you clench around his finger as he invades your butt deeper.

“Relax,” Max soothes you, his teeth stained pink and clamps right back onto that messy muff.

He slips in another wet finger and fills up your ass to the knuckles, sucking on your clit again.

“Oh fuck!” You flop down onto the pillow, getting a neck ache from craning to look at him and just succumb to the blooming feeling inside your ass, completely distracting you now from the cramps altogether. A wonderful placebo to occupy you as Max fucks you up sideways with that dangerous hot mouth of his.

He smears his tongue around, mopping you up and getting as much of you as he can; sucking you dry and clean before he would dart into your pussy hole and tease out more that you had to offer.

All the while he keeps his fingers inside your ass, curling and pumping as he watches your thighs tremble and pulsate around the sides of his head.

He marvels at how your body reacts to him without him having to use his enthrall; you submit to him wholly and he loves it.

With a gooey, slick smile, Max laps at your pussy hungrily again and again like a rabid dog as you start to come apart at the seams once more.

“Oh God!” You call out, gripping hold of the duvet and pulling at it tightly as your body contorts and bucks against his face. You can feel another orgasm building and twisting your spine out of shape.

“God isn’t going to help you, sweetheart,” Max confirms before he chews on your clit once more and lets you explode again. "The Devil on the other hand..."

“Oh, I can’t, I can’t-” You’re quaking now, the pleasure doing an absolute number on you and he keeps his tongue on your sensitive clit. You can see flashes behind your eyelids; feel your body contort and pulse. “Maa-hax!”

“You can,” he encourages as he flicks across your nub hard with a fast, busy tongue. “Come in my mouth, baby. Give it all to me.”

And you do.

"AaaahhhohGodpleasepleaseMax!”

You arch your back, trying to get away from his mouth, the wonderful feeling becoming too much; you’re drowning, unable to breathe and so fucking dizzy, but he presses down on your stomach again holding you in place so you can’t scarper away.

"Oh fuuucck!"

He forces you to confront it, to accept it and drown in that tidal wave as it crashes over your head and pulls you under. Your ears are ringing and your toes are breaking.

“Fuck me, Max...” You plead, gasping and burning at him as you resurface. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you hard?” He replies, teasing you.

“Please, just cover your cock in me.” You gasp as he draws up and unzips his pants.

He pulls himself out, thick and hard and leaking pre-cum as he pumps a few times before lining himself up against you. He wastes no time in giving you what you crave.

You grip onto him, his shirt twisting in your vice-like grip as he sinks his cock inside you and begins thrusting, hard, just like you want it.

He feels you squeezing around him almost immediately as he rips through you, sending you erratic and spiralling and coming so forcefully around his dick quickly, that your body goes rigid and shakes as though possessed.

“Yeah, like that!” He coos at you, growling. He bears his teeth, grunting as he power fucks into you. "There you go, baby. Love it when I destroy this pretty cunt, don't you?"

“Maa-hax, fu-uu-ck!” You cry out; your voice being battered out of your throat, releasing uncontrollably and panting wildly.

It’s so wet between your legs that every thrust squelches obscenely.

“What huh, you want me to stop? I don’t think you want that.” He growls. Once more his face shifts, his fangs are out fully now.

You shake your head, gasping hard through a dry throat. You grip onto him as his face lwers closer to yours, the vampire breaking through.

You whimper and squeak through your pants.

“You want me to stop?” Max prompts again as he eases his grip, slows his pace with smooth, deep strokes; another tempo just as easily fucking you up again.

You can feel him so deeply inside you as he drives his hips forward; his body crushing yours like a hydraulic press into the mattress.

You can see he's fighting to stay fully in control as his human face reappears from under the dark lines and brow ridges.

“No, don’t stop,” you choke as your body fizzes like fireworks. “Please… More.” You whine, losing your breath as he fucks it right out of your lungs until you can no longer form coherent words around your tongue and you’re left babbling.

“That’s right; you don’t want it to stop, do you? Such a fucking slut for my cock. Letting me fuck you whilst you're bleeding all over it." Max croons into your neck and you can feel his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin there. "So fucking nasty, baby."

Fisting through his hair, you grip him tight as his hips snap into yours with vigour. “Not even breaking out into a sweat.” Max taunts inside your ear. “I can keep this up all day. In fact, I think I just might.”

“Oh God, fuck.” You mewl.

"Want to drink you again. Let me?" Max presses his tongue over that juicy vein in your neck.

"Yeah," you pant as he gathers your hair away from the side of your neck. "Not too much-"

"I know," he croons. "Just a drop or two. You can take it."

Sharp stings are felt on your throat as he tastes you there too, puncturing the skin and swallowing you down.

It’s a heady feeling as he drinks; the niggly pain soon dissipating and making you see bokeh stars behind your eyelids.

The pull is sumptuous, dreamy. Comforting as your eyes flutter shut and you sink into the serene peace his immortal kiss offers.

“Fucking delicious,” he smirks as he runs his mouth up the side of your cheek; his hot, blood stained breath left to condensate inside your ear canal.

Growling and rabid, Max pulls out and slides down your body and licks up your oozy slit again, tasting you and smearing the bloody and sticky pulp across his lips.

"You’re such a good little PA for me. You take it so well every time.” He praises, pushing his fingers into your pussy once more and rooting around inside of you. "Going to give you more, baby. I know you've got more for me. And I'm nowhere near full yet."

He strokes your cushiony insides that are sodden and plump and allow him to slide in and out with ease. You still feel tight and bound from your orgasms, but he's able to bring about another one that leaves you caterwauling for him again.

He’s the conductor and you his orchestra, making sweet music to his ears whilst he faps and eats you out and then some for hours, until the day is bleached away into the encroaching twilight outside.

His stamina destroys you, bruises your bones as he fucks you over and over until you think you’ll never be able to walk again.

And when he eventually comes, with a deep throaty howl that seems to vibrate through the whole building and cracks your neighbour's window panes, spilling himself wholly inside of you, he sucks it all out with the blood and swallows it down, remaining rock hard until he does it all over again. And again.

And a-fucking-gain.

“Hmm... love this pussy,” Max confirms, suckling gently at your over-sensitive bud and you’re beside yourself with the intense rapture of it all.

Boneless mush. A drooling mess. Crying and wailing for more, pumped full of sequinned delirium.

By the time he’s finished feasting on you, you’re utterly exhausted and barely able to keep your eyes open.

Max spends time cleaning you up. Licking around your inner thighs and filling up on all the spots he might’ve missed.

Fawning, delicate. The vampire is fully satiated for now.

He walks over to your dresser, running his thumb around his lips to get the crust of the dried blood over them, and his once crisp, white shirt is now a pink stained mess, like an artist who has gone berserk with his paint pots.

He pulls out a pair of clean underwear and slides them up your legs and taps your ass gently, rousing your sleepy focus back to him.

"B-12," he finger shoots at you and you nod over to the supplements on your dresser. He brings them, and a band-aid that he sticks over the bite marks on your neck, and gives it a gentle press in place.

"There, all better." He smirks darkly.

He then leans forward and kisses you on the lips. Max pushes those plumpy, blood stained lips of his onto your own and kisses you deeply, slowly.

He slides his tongue into your mouth and massages it delicately. You can taste the metallic remnants of yourself on him, taste your salty-sweet cunt all around his gums.

“See why I can’t get enough of your taste, hmm?” He murmurs around your lips as you sample yourself on him with mounting fervour.

He’s right, you do taste good.

Max groans into your mouth as you clutch at the back of his head hungrily and wanting more, despite your battered body yelling at you to rest. He falters again, sliding forward on the bed and gripping you tightly into his body.

You can feel the bulge of his still solid cock poking you in the gut, and you reach down to give him a rub and a gentle squeeze before he removes your hand and strokes your fingers inside of his stained ones.

God, he's like walking viagra. Constantly fucking hard. Well, he is dead. Technically the term is rigor-mortis...

“The things I still want to do to you..." he utters with a low grunt. "But you need sleep.” He purrs gently, smoothing down your frayed hair.

“Stay,” you whimper as he pulls away.

“Can’t tonight, baby. Got lots to catch up on. You’ve kept me busy all day. Going to have to pull an all-nighter.”

“Oops.” You smile dreamily at him.

“Oops.” Max remarks with a dangerous grin. “You think you’ll be in tomorrow? Could really use your support with the audit.”

You nod. “I’m feeling better already.”

“Good.” He smiles and kisses you once more. “Rest up. Tomorrow I’m going to fuck you in the supply closet from eleven til half-twelve. I'll send you a meeting invite.” He smirks as he pulls down and buttons his cuffs.

The noise that comes out of you in response makes him chuckle darkly.

Holy fuck…

Max pulls away from you, slipping out of your grip, leaving you to settle on the bed as he gathers his jacket. He pulls your bloodied panties out and gives them a sniff as he winks at you.

You can only imagine what he's going to do with them later.

He leaves the bedroom and you hear him let himself out.

You collapse back on the bed, somewhat bereft, hearing his car start up with that familiar deep roar.

It fades away down the street and takes any sense of conscious thought you have with him.

Rolling over and reaching for the B-12, you sigh out with a satiated smile and close your eyes thinking about the supply closest.

And the amount of times your freakishly insatiable boss, Max, has fucked you up in there already.

I really hope you enjoyed reading this Max Phillips story of mine. Just love a bit of hungry, gnarly Max, don't you? If you enjoyed what you just read, please consider re-blogging. Thank you so much! 🖤🩸

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