#I only knew max’s mother divorced him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goldsainz · 9 months

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SAFE HAVEN — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x verstappen!reader

2K CELEBRATION. MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803

summary: daniel is the one thing in your life that truly brightens your day.

request: “You're my family too with Danny Ric?”

warnings: childhood trauma (mentioned, nothing explicit), daddy issues, estranged siblings.

NOTE: not me making this a verstappen sister fic… honestly, if i can’t trauma dump in my fics then where will i? just kidding (or not), honestly it was not intento al to do this but i go too in the moment and then it was perfect to make this verstappen reader😭 please listen to matilda by harry styles while reading this, it’s too perfect no to!

[ word count: 2,2k ]

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, Danny.”

Summer break. A dreaded time of the year for you.

It’s the one time where there is genuinely no excuse for you to not see your family, to not interact with the one person who made your brother who he was and broke who you were.

Since you were little Max had always come first. From the endless trips around Europe to compete in the different Karting events, to the amount of time your father devoted to him, your brother had become number one since the moment your father could do so.

Money wasn’t necessarily tight, but with your parents divorced and your mother struggling with the absence of her son, there definitely wasn’t a lot of free realm to roam as you pleased.

You became devoted to school, devoted to distract yourself from the mess that your life progressively became. You had become obsessed with understating how racing had become the be-all end-all of your life. Education was the one thing no one batted an eye at when it became the one thing you spent your time on.

There were moments where you were allowed to go to races. If it was close to your home and the fees weren’t outrageous to the life you led, you could tag along. It came with stipulations though, your father always made it clear you were to never disturb Max from his pre-race shenanigans and that you were to watch but never interact, you weren’t allowed to talk any rival to Max much less befriend them. And for your younger self, these rules were absurd but not absurd enough to defy them.

As you grew older, and studying became more demanding, a gap formed between your brother and you. There was no more time to attend races, and so, when your brother joined F1 you had already finished engineering college. Connections were everything in the racing world, and you knew that the opportunity to be an engineer for Red Bull Racing wouldn’t have been so quick if your brother wasn’t connected with them. You couldn’t say you weren’t grateful in that moment of the path your brother had taken, because that opportunity would introduce you to the most important person in your life.

Daniel Ricciardo is sunshine personified. That was the one thing you knew about him before even meeting him. The day you met him was the day your life became brighter and funnier. Your job wasn’t necessarily boring, in fact it had become the one passion that was truly yours and no one criticised, but having Daniel be a constant part of it made the experience precious.

You think that’s how you got so involved with the Aussie, how you waited every day for him to smile at you and start a conversation. It made your day better when he gave you attention, even if it was just the littlest amount; it didn’t matter. Attention was attention, and you were getting it from the one person you wanted it from.

Watching the man you longed for become so close to your brother, someone who had become almost a stranger save for the name you shared, was heart-shattering. It made the reality of things stick out, the fact that there could be nothing between the two of you became more real. Not only was it inappropriate in a work sense, but now it felt wrong to go after a person your brother was friendly with. Even if you were older, even if you didn’t talk much with your brother, even then, you weren’t about to risk the repercussions your actions could have.

You saw how his career went on. Watched as he went to Renault, and by proxy, left you behind as he started a new chapter in his life. All the stolen glances you had shared became illicit, from the bond he shared with your brother to him being part of another team, there was no real way to connect with him without being suspicious. It wasn’t like you could go up to Max and ask him how he was doing.

From time to time, Daniel would ask you how you were doing. He passed by you in the paddock and couldn’t help but smile and wave at you. The action made your insides tingle and have a light blush creep on your cheeks.

You knew it wasn’t weird to watch his Instagram stories, to like his posts, he followed you too and you knew he watched your posts too. But you hoped it wasn’t something preoccupying to watch him have fun on the summer break with his family, sharing barbecues on his farm back in Perth. It gave you a sense of longing that you learned to despise with each passing year.

This year was no different, except this year Daniel was back with Red Bull.

You remember the exact moment the news broke that Daniel wouldn’t be a part of the 2023 season, and how devastating watching him announce the news in a video was. It made you feel for him, you knew it wasn’t a foreign situation in F1, it was more common than it should’ve been. Especially working in Red Bull, a team that was known for their cruelty with drivers. Hypocritical or not, having the one person who was always nice to everyone no matter what he treated in such a way, when everyone knew the results he was getting weren’t a show of his talent but rather the incompetence of a team, was undeserved.

This time, you were both older and had been through enough to understand your feelings. There was a shift in the dynamic you and Daniel shared. He was aware of the fact that you always held back from truly opening up to him because of your brother, because you cared too much about him and didn’t want to worsen your relationship with him. He didn’t know of the promises you made to your father when you were younger, but he knew you were holding back.

Maybe that’s why he went out of his way to talk to you. He approached you at any given moment he could, if he saw you sitting alone while working he would pause whatever he had going and sit next to you. At first you didn’t mention his increasing interest in you, but after a while you asked him if he needed anything from you; which he did, but not in the way you meant it.

You suppose it wasn’t totally unexpected when stolen glances turned into stolen kisses. After knowing him for over 7 years your mouths slotting against one another didn’t feel as foreign as it should’ve, it felt right, like you should’ve been doing that all along.

If there was one thing Daniel Ricciardo tried to not be was an eavesdropper. He didn’t want to hear something he didn’t want to or intrude in a private conversation. But, hearing you talk was a melody he felt he should never be deprived of. So when he heard you talking to a fellow engineer, he just couldn’t help himself.

“You’re not doing anything for summer break?” The engineer asked.

“Honestly, I’m probably gonna go home and read a couple of books alone.” By the tone of your words, he knew you were hiding your emotions in poor humour.

“Well, that’s one way to spend your summer.”

You just chuckled, “I guess so, yeah. Maybe I’ll see my family, too.”

“Don’t see them enough already?” Daniel knew the engineer was just poking fun at the fact that your family was actually very present in your day-to-day life.

“Probably more than enough, but nothing like being at home with your family, right?” Now the Aussie knew you were just lying to get out of an awkward conversation, there was no actual way you were being honest with your co-worker.

“Well, have fun!”

“You too!”

The moment the engineer left, your shoulders sagged and the fake smile you were wearing went away.

“So, you're seeing your family during the summer break?” Daniel broke the silence you were in, waking into the room so naturally you would’ve thought he was always there to begin with.

“You’re eavesdropping now, Ricciardo?”

“Wouldn’t call it eavesdropping if you’re in public,” You smiled at his words, something he could do so easily. Smiling was a no-brainer when Daniel was around.

“I think it’s still eavesdropping.”

“Agree to disagree.”

You felt like a high school girl talking to the guy she liked all over again. You hoped the blush that covered your cheeks wasn’t as noticeable as you thought it was, but by the way Daniel was looking at you, it definitely was.

“You’re going back to Perth for the summer break?” You deflect the question he asked, not ready to get into the mess that it is seeing your family.

“Yeah, gonna see my parents and take care of my little farm.”

“From what I’ve heard it’s anything but little.”

“Oh, how would you know?” He is amused at the knowledge you have of his life, slightly honoured to have your attention in that way.

“Um, Max mentioned it. Like once. But it was so long ago, maybe you have another farm by now, and what I’m saying is totally wrong.”

Daniel’s laugh is infectious, especially when it comes to you. He’s sure you could say a thing and he would be laughing.

“My farm is a normal size. I don’t know how many farm’s Max has been to, but mine is nothing special.”

“I hope you have fun then.” You tell him, and you’re being sincere about it. But he knows you’re trying your best not to show how much you long for a calm summer break. He knows that what awaits you back home is nothing short of a wreck, filled with berating from your father and the awkwardness of spending time with people who never really took the time to understand you, while you’ve spend your whole life trying to understand them.

“Come with me.”

You stop picking up your stuff, almost dropping your phone in the process. You look up to him, you watch the vulnerability in his eyes.”

“What?”

“Come with me. Back to Perth.” He repeats, this time clarifying where he means, though there is no need for it because you know exactly what he meant with those three words.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” If there is something you know about Daniel is that he doesn’t back down without a fight, you know he would respect your choice of not going if he knew you really didn’t want to. But after years of knowing you, he is sure you do want to go with him. And you do. You’d go anywhere with him.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, Danny.”

Those five words are probably the most absurd words he has heard you say since knowing you.

“You wouldn’t.” He watches you throw him a look, a look that tries to tell him he’s wrong, “I promise, Y/N, you wouldn’t be intruding. At all.”

“You’re gonna be with your family,” You say like that explains everything. But to Daniel, it doesn’t. “And I have to be with mine.”

There is a moment where he considers backing down, because yes, what you are saying is technically true. But his family knows so much about you just from pure hearsay, from all the times Daniel has gushed about how great of a person you are. He has the feeling they wouldn’t mind you being there and knows for certain you would fit right in with them.

“You’re my family too.”

“Daniel…” You trail off warily, like you’re scared of the implications his words have.

“You are. You’ve become family to me.” He steps forward and grasps your hands in his, “And I’m sorry that I never said it before, or that I never properly asked you because I was scared of what would happen. But you could be a part of my life, my family, if you want to.”

You’re rendered speechless at his words. It is too much just as it is enough. It is all you’ve wanted to hear for years from him, the confession that his actions are just in your head, that all those times he stared at you like you hung the moon after nights together, weren’t made up. It makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go, so you do.

Hugging him feels perfect. Like there is no place you should ever be but in his arms. You discover something new from Daniel Ricciardo, and it is that he is your family. Slowly but surely he became essential to your life, and loved you like no one else had before.

If there was ever a family you wanted to be a part of, it was his.

854 notes · View notes

abbyromanoff · 10 months

Note

Hey since father's day is coming can i request a daddy nat x reader fic? It's ok if you ignore this ^_^

Pinky-Promise

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x afab!reader

Word count: 7102 (still can’t believe this only took like 3 hours)

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, divorces, cheating (R to their boyfriend), daddy kink, degrading, praise kink, soft sex then rough sex lol, breeding kink, strap ons, squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering, cunnilingus, mutual pining, arguing, Nat being a dick beforehand, slapping, spit kink (very brief), filming, body worshipping, mentions of masturbation, marking, kinda beefy!Nat, lotssss of pet names, cum-filled straps, happy ending

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“Momma!!” Came the yells of your two children as they entered the large home of your ex-wife. She picked both of them up in her arms and hugged them tightly, giving a kiss to their foreheads before setting them down. It was Father’s Day weekend and before your divorce last year, your little family would always celebrate Nat while they celebrated you on Mother’s Day. And now, this was your first year being divorced during the holiday. And while you were planning to just drop the kids off for the weekend, they begged you to join them, to do it as a family again, as they had said. And their puppy eyes which were exaggerated to the max were impossible to resist. So, you had contacted Nat and told her the plans, that you and your kids would be spending the weekend at her house and would leave Sunday night.

“Oh, you guys are getting so big! I’m not gonna be able to pick you both up soon.” She pouted, receiving shared giggles from the twins standing at her feet. Alex, your 6-year-old son, had similar hair to you with light shades of red shining. His eyes were an exact copy of Nat’s, as were his sisters, Lena. Alexei often bragged that his grandson was named after him, even if it was just a coincidence. But Lena, she had been named after Nat’s sister, Yelena. She didn’t show it, but you knew she was beyond ecstatic to know her niece was named after her.

Your son looked back at you, trying to signal the card that had been put away in your purse. You knew what he was asking, he wanted you to give it to her, they were both too shy to see her reaction. You smiled at them and stepped forward, both children immediately clinging onto you and watching with filled nerves as Nat grasped the card, letting her fingers gently brush against yours for such a small moment that you almost didn’t notice, but you did. You retreated your hand back quickly and watched your kid's excitement grow as Nat let out a gasp, smiling with tears starting to pool in her eyes as she read their messy handwriting inside.

“You guys...Did you make this all by yourselves?” They nodded and you could’ve nearly wept watching the interaction your ex-wife had with them. You knew she loved you and your children more than anything in this world, but she wasn’t great at showing that.

“Are you sure? Because if you asked me I’d say a professional drew this masterpiece.” You could see the pride in their faces at her words.

When it was nearing the end of the day you were trying to figure out the bed situation. The kids had their own rooms, Nat made sure of it. But she didn’t have an extra room for you or any guest at that.

“Don’t worry about it, I can just take the couch.” It had been a while since you two had a conversation face to face and all alone.

“Oh, shut it. Here, you can have the bed and I’ll take the couch, you are my guest after all.” You sighed, knowing there was no way of fighting this argument but you still tried. You didn’t want her to sleep on the couch with those painful edges that you had bruised yourself on many times before.

“You’re not taking the couch, I am. There, it’s settled.” You both shared a look at the couch and back at one another, both being able to sense what was about to happen. You two ran as quickly as possible, trying to beat the other onto the furniture. You had landed first, but you both tackled over the spot.

“Stop, stop!” You yelled out as her long fingers tickled your skin and caused laughs to pour out of you.

“Accept your defeat and I’ll stop.” There were so many giggles from the both of you and, for a small minute, it was like everything in your past had disappeared, you were just in this moment.

“Okay, okay! You win!” Her legs that were around your waist loosened and her hands finally retreated back, she placed them right next to your head on the sofa. They were trapping you in from both sides, and you couldn’t deny the way it still left you as breathless as it did many years ago.

Time seemed to have stopped as you both stared into one another's eyes, her emerald ones looking identical to your children. You seemed to have realized the position you two were in and nervously chuckled, trying to stand but she wouldn’t let you.

“Nat, we should probably get to bed.” She licked her slightly dry lips and nodded, still refusing to move herself from you. She wasn’t looking at you but instead had her gaze lowered, it hurt to see how affected she was by you.

“Nat-”

“Please. Please don’t leave me tonight.” You looked at her with confusion, furrowing your brows and silently pleading her to continue.

“I haven’t been sleeping well, Y/N, I haven’t been for the past year. I miss having you by my side, no other girl could ever replace your warmth.” The mention of other girls lying in her bed, the same one you two had shared the most intimate and sweetest moments in, made your stomach drop.

“I-I get if you think it’s weird since we’re, you know.” You noticed the way she refused to admit what it truly was, that you two were divorced, separated. No longer a pair. “But, I think you know I’m secretly a better cuddler than your boyfriend.” Your eyes widened at her words, she seemed to have picked that up.

“The kids mentioned him. I promise I wasn’t, like, stalking you or anything.” You chuckled dryly and she joined you. You could sense the small tension that was still there, it never truly left you both. It would haunt you in the nights, as it did with her. There had been so many times where you had almost called your boyfriend Natty, your favorite nickname that only you were ever allowed to call her. The thought that someone else might take that spot, might be able to share those sweet moments like you two had shattered your heart completely. Neither of you ever fell out of love with one another, and you both knew that too. But it wasn’t working. She was barely home, and when she was she was working. During your family movie nights, she would have paperwork in one hand and a pen in the other. The work had putten stress on her, stress that she didn’t know how to handle. So, she had taken it out on you, something she would forever regret. The arguments were taking a toll on the kids, and that’s when you knew it was too much. After that, it took you less than a month to get the divorce papers. You tried just getting it over with and freeing your kids from the pain of seeing their mom’s like this, but you didn’t want to accept the fact that it would be over. And she didn’t either.

She hadn’t taken the news well when you told her. She cried, dropping to her knees in front of you and holding onto your legs to not let you get away. You had Alex and Lena stay at your parent's house, you didn’t want them to see you two like this.

It wasn’t the same since then. You’d often get the urge to text her throughout the day, only to remember she was no longer yours.

“It’s okay, I guess we can share the bed for the night then.” She smiled, quickly trying to hide it as not to scare you away. There was a hair strand covering her cheek, your hand instinctively reached out to pull it back, letting your hand linger on the side of her face. She leaned into your touch, wishing this moment could last forever. But it didn’t, and you removed your hand just like you did earlier in the day.

“Uh, let’s go then.” You said with a tight-lipped smile and she sighed, knowing the small moment was done for.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” It was awkward lying next to each other. You both wanted to hold one another like before, although neither of you made the move. You both lied there, staring at the ceiling before finally falling into a deep sleep.

That morning you were lucky to be greeted with the sight of the sun blaring through the curtains. You turned, stretching and being surprised to see Nat next to you, that was until memories of last night flooded your mind. Her arm was draped around your waist and you wished it could be this way again, and not just for the weekend.

“Mm, good morning, angel.” She hadn’t seemed to notice her slip up and you didn’t correct her on it either.

“Morning, Natty. How’d you sleep?” The refresher of the nickname felt so relieving to finally get out.

“Better than I have in so long.” She chuckled, trying her best to capture this moment before it would get ripped away from her once again.

Your faces were so close, you nearly could’ve kissed. But then there was a sudden burst of the door opening and your two kids running in quickly to jump on the bed. Lena cuddled in between the two of you while Alex immediately went into your arms.

“Happy Father’s Day, Momma!!” They both yelled at once. You’d never get sick of how they interacted, it was the sweetest thing.

“Thank you, kiddos! Now, how about we all go make some pancakes together, hm?” She was as much of a child as they were, picking one up to rest on her waist and the other receiving a piggyback ride.

You started getting ready in the bathroom and looked back at the bed where your ex had just rested. It reminded you of the years before when you’d wait for her to wake up since she slept in so late. When she’d never want to leave the comfort of her bed unless you left as well, or if you were about to get into the shower. When her smile was the first thing that greeted you in the morning. And that smile of hers always got you, it continued to make you melt every day.

Your sniffles were unheard by anyone, you were left all alone. You knew that you needed to hurry or your kids would come to get you and see you like this. Or maybe even Nat. You wondered what she’d do if you told her the truth, that you never wanted to leave her, that you would still love her no matter what. That you felt like a coward leaving her instead of trying to fix it. That you missed her, the old her. The one so deeply in love with you that nothing ever made you think otherwise. If she saw you, and you told her everything cascading through your mind, would she be mad? Sad? Would she feel guilt or remorse? You didn’t want to ruin her day, but you feared that if you didn't tell her, it would haunt you for the rest of the time.

“Y/N? Y/N, you in here-“ She stopped in her tracks when seeing your tinted cheeks and the sad look she knew all too well.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She walked closer, hesitating to take your face in her hands in case you were sensitive or frightened, she had learned over the years how to do that for you.

“Nothing. Nothings wrong. Now, why don’t we have some pancakes, I bet you and the kids made some delicious ones like always.” You tried to walk past her with a false grin on your face, but she stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me what’s bothering you.” She was persistent, she always was.

“I told you, it’s nothing-“

“Bullshit, Y/N, I know when something is bothering you, we were married for fuck sake.”

“That’s the point.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your statement, it was a silent urge for you to speak again.

“Do you think I wanted to come here? Do you think I wanted to sleep in the same bed with you after everything?” Your voice wavered while you tried to hide the depths of your emotions.

“What do you…what do you mean? I thought you were okay with this, I thought you agreed to sleeping in the same bed as me.” She backed up, hands being held at her sides defensively as she looked at the ground.

“You needed me to, you couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d help and maybe that was a fucking mistake! I-“ You cut yourself off, trying your best to hold back the tears already arising at the surface. “I can’t do this with you, I can’t.”

“No, no, no, you don’t get to just walk out on me again, not when the kids are right outside.”

“Walk out? I walked out on you? You walked out of this marriage way before I decided to end it.” She was near shouting, only to remember how small of a distance there was between you both and the children.

“Look, I never walked out of our marriage-“

“Oh, really?”

“Let me finish my fucking sentence, Y/N!” She started, anger looming in her voice. “I never left you, and I never wanted to lose you either. You left, not me. You signed the paper, I didn’t want to. You were the one who took the kids and left your wife, the love of your goddamn life.” You couldn’t believe her, even after all this time she didn’t realize what she had done. She didn’t realize the reason you were forced to leave her.

“You think I wanted to leave you? You really think I just, fell out of love with you or something?”

“Then what was it, Y/N? Truly, I want to know what I did so wrong.”

“You left me, maybe not physically but mentally you did. Work was your new love, not me, not your kids. The breakfasts that were spent with your arms around me while I cooked turned into the kids wondering why momma forgot to give them their kiss goodbye. Picking up the kids from school with you turned into them wondering where momma was. Even the teachers questioned where you were when you didn’t show up for parent-teacher conferences. Dinners were spent without you and if you were there you had your work in your hands. One mission led to several, and days turned into months. I was tired, Nat, so tired. I knew you loved me, and I know you still do. I will always know your love, but I’ll still always know that you’d choose your work life over me. Do you even understand how hard it is to explain to your children that momma wasn’t there? That you didn’t know if she’d even make it back? They looked up to you, but you weren’t there! And I guess being back on that bed, seeing you there, just brought back everything I’ve been fighting so hard to get over. I never stopped loving you, Nat, but I stopped loving what you did to me, to us. To our family.” Nat looked at you with something you’d never seen before. After more than ten years of being together and six and a half years of being married, you still have never seen her look at you the way she did now. It broke your heart knowing you had hurt her, but a part of you wanted her to feel the same pain she caused you.

“I’m sorry..” Before you could say anything else you felt yourself being pushed against a wall, lips being placed against yours. You melted into her, your hands holding onto her hair for dear life.

“I love you, baby, I love you so much.” She mumbled against your mouth, her tears landing on your cheeks as well as hers.

“I know you do-“

“No, my love, I love you, you hear me? I love you more than anyone, I’ve never felt this type of love before I had you, and I wanted to hate you for ruining that but- but I couldn’t. I could never hate you, and that’s the part that I hate. So, please, please just be with me right now.” It was more of a question than a statement. You didn’t want to say no, so you didn’t.

“I’ve got you, Natty. I’m right here, you feel this?” You grabbed her hand and placed it against your chest, your heartbeat being just noticeable by her. She nodded, her forehead gently hitting yours with every movement she made.

“That right there, that’s my heartbeat. My heart beats for you, sweetheart. It beats for you, and it beats for our family.” She grinned happily, rejoining your lips together in a hungry kiss. You were desperate to have each other, to just feel one another. Her hands wandered your body and landed on the back of your upper thighs, lifting you up into her hold and sitting you down on the counter. Some of the clutter fell to the ground when coming in contact with your body.

“You feel so good in my arms again, my darling girl.” Her lips slammed against your neck, her heart and soul wanting to leave marks, any symbol to show you were still hers, that all that grievance wasn’t real, that it was just a nightmare. But her mind knew she couldn’t. The kids could see, or better yet, your boyfriend could see. Your boyfriend. Alex and Lena’s stepfather. No. No, she was their mother, their father. Not him. You were her wife, not his. What if he was to take her place? What if he was to put a ring on your finger and replace the one that you still had a hard time taking off? She had never taken off the one you had given to her, she refused to.

“Mommy? Momma? The pancakes are all decorated, just like you said.” Alex said through the door, his little hands knocking so gently you almost didn’t hear it. You both retracted from one another unwillingly and you sighed, realizing that this moment was ruined and, as much as you loved your children to death, you really wish they had slept in this morning.

“Come on, the kids are waiting.” You tried to stand, but once again, she stopped you.

“Nat-“

“Wait. Just, wait.” She pressed her forehead against yours and fluttered her eyes shut. “Please don’t tell me this is over. Please don’t tell me I won’t get this with you again.” Her lip quivered and she bit it to hide her sadness from you.

“This isn’t over, baby, we’re not over, okay? Later tonight, once the kids have gone to bed, we’ll talk more. But for now, we need to be there for our children. You need to.” She nodded with a tight-lipped smile, kissing you once more before opening the door to a waiting Alex.

“What are you doing in here, Momma?” He could see you, and while he still didn’t understand most adult things at his young age, you could almost feel his judgemental gaze.

“Oh- well, me and mommy were just playing a game of hide and seek while you guys made our surprise. And, well, you know how bad of a hider momma is.” He gasped, looking at his mommies with a hint of betrayal.

“You played hide and seek without me? But, momma, I thought we always played hide and seek together.”

“Well,” You could see her struggling with an excuse to make, but she always knew what to say to him. “Me and Mommy wanted to let you guys finish before we invited you to play with us. We thought we’d get some good practice at hiding since you’re such a good seeker, aren’t you, little guy?” She booped his nose and he giggled, pulling her with him to the kitchen where the food awaited you both. You followed her after taking a quick moment to look at yourself in the mirror, a saddened grin breaking over your face when you took in the whole situation. You had a boyfriend, a lover, but Nat was still yours. While she may be your ex-wife, she was still your wife. She still was the only carrier of your heart. Your family, you and Nat’s family, was the only keeper of your broken little heart.

“Mommy, I wanna stay longer.” Your daughter pouted, the clock reading late into the evening and nearing the time you were planned to leave.

“Yeah, why can’t we stay one more night?” Her twin added on, giving you those puppy eyes you couldn’t ignore, and neither could Nat.

“Yeah, Mommy,” Nat teased, mocking her kids' words. “Why can’t my three babies stay a little longer, hm?” You didn’t miss the obvious gesture towards you and you didn’t complain about it either.

“Alright then, I guess since you kiddos don’t have school tomorrow we can stay another day. But just one more night.” They all cheered in excitement, nodding along to the compromise that you knew would be hard to keep. Your kids rushed to the living room, trying their best to figure out the remote for movie night. You and Nat were left in the kitchen alone. She stepped closer to you, brushing her fingertips against your arm and holding the sleeve of your sweater.

“So, one more night I get to spend with you, huh?” You grinned to yourself at her words, nodding and copying the move she had done to you by running your hand up and down her arm. You stopped at her hand, interlacing your fingers with hers and holding them up together. Her face was nearly touching yours with how close you became, you could practically feel her breath hitting your own.

“Kiss me, baby.” And she did. She moved her lips on yours like a starved woman, hungry for the attention of you. Neither of you cared to pay much attention to your kids bickering playfully in the other room, you were too engrossed with one another to notice anything else around you.

“Mm, what about them?”

“They’re stuck on the tv, they won’t notice us.” You giggled as her nose tickled against your neck while her mouth left marks of her love.

“No marks, Natty…Richard will see.” She paused in her steps, shocking you into a gasp when you felt her teeth sinking into your neck this time.

“N-Nat, let’s do this when the kids aren’t around.”

“You’ve already made me wait so long, I just want to feel you again.” You brushed the messy hair out of her face, cupping her cheeks and she leaned into it.

“Trust me, once we put those little ones to bed, I’ll let you touch me however you want.” You said. “Remember all those nights before we had the kids, and even after we had them, where it was all just so perfect? It was raw, meaningful, and so unbelievably hot. Our sweaty bodies just rocking against each other, desperate for anything we could get our hands on because we were just so deeply infatuated with one another. All those moments are what have kept me up at night for the past year, I’ve just been so needy to have you.” Shivers traveled down her spine as she pictured it with you. It was true, you two shared some of the best sex known to mankind. Even your friends were jealous of your love and intimacy with Nat when their partners barely acknowledged them.

“Fine, I’ll wait. But know this, the second I get you on my bed, sprawled out and ready just for me, I’m not gonna stop ‘till you’re begging me to. And I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t even remember your own damn name.” You bit your lip in excitement, your hips slightly grinding into nothing. She noticed with a sly smirk, departing from you and entering the living room while her eyes were stuck on where you had just been, she thanked all Gods that the wall was there to cover your moment from the kids.

The time had finally come when your kids were knocked out in their beds after your bedtime stories. They were tired after all of their running throughout the day and you both knew there was no waking them from their slumber.

The second you closed the door behind you, you were being dragged into Nat’s room, the one you used to share with her for many years, and being pushed onto the bed. Nat was moving faster than the speed of light as she removed her shirt along with yours, noticing with hungry eyes how you lacked a bra.

“Baby, baby, just relax, we have all the time in the world.” She took a deep breath and agreed with you, dragging her hands down to your breasts that had been calling her name. She grasped them in her hands as if there were stress balls and ran her thumbs over your hardened nipples. You hummed in delight as she continued, now straddling your lap while ducking her head to your chest. One hand continued her actions while the other was taken into her mouth. You ran your fingertips through her hair and pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from her cherry-red lips.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.” You didn’t know whether she was referring to you or to your breasts, but you smiled anyways.

“Show me how much you missed me then, Natty.” You pulled her face closer to yours, your eyes seemingly stuck in the endless loop of falling in line with her own. But her eyes were just so enchanting, so beautiful. You could stare at them for hours on end and never get bored.

She leaned in for a searing kiss and it felt as though the world stopped spinning. Everything came swarming back like a bee hive. All the memories, good and bad. All the kisses, sensual and sweet. And all the touches, hot and sweet.

Nat could feel the way you softened in her hold and sat back upright, examining your face and nearly copying your saddened expression.

“Oh, love, please don’t cry.” It only caused you to do so even more. You had been trying to hold back your emotions this whole stay, but just like Nat had said long ago during one of her fits that she took out on you, you were too emotional.

“I’m sorry, I-I just, I don’t even know.” You let out a fake chuckle to lighten the mood, but Nat didn’t return it.

“It’s okay, we can just lie here or talk, we don’t need to have sex.” You quickly tried to explain yourself before she got off of you, you really didn’t intend to ruin the moment.

“No, no, I want to. I do. I guess just being with you and kissing you again just makes me miss you even more.” She gave you a small grin full of pity and understanding. But you didn’t want her pity, you just wanted your Natty.

“You don’t need to miss me anymore, I’m right here. And I’m not going to risk losing you again.”

“You promise?” She stuck her pinky in the air, pointing it your way. It was a sweet memory you both shared. When you were children you had met under the circumstances of your parents being new friends after she moved into town. Anytime you asked her to promise you something she had held her pinky high and not once did she break her promise.

When she was taken away, she made a pinky promise to herself to find you again. And when she did, she promised you to never lose you again. But that was the only one she had broken, but she intended to fix it. She was going to make you hers again, and she’d do anything to achieve that.

“I promise.” You moved your mouths together once again, her tongue occasionally poking your lips until you gave her access. Her hands explored your body as if she’d never seen it before.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” While you loved her pet names more than anything, the compliment felt more sincere when being followed by your name.

Your hands copied hers but on her body, traveling to her stomach where you felt her abs nearly pulsing. She clenched the muscle and caused you to laugh into the kiss. She smiled against you and brought her mouth to your neck, continuing her earlier abuse of the skin, this time the hunger was replaced with care. She didn’t just want you, she needed you.

When you let out a small whimper as her teeth brushed over the bruised skin she smirked, “You like when I do that?” You nodded in response.

“No, no, tell me. I wanna hear that sweet voice I love so dearly.” You bit your lip as she did it once more, teasing you further.

“I love it so much, daddy.” She groaned at the title, bucking her hips into nothing.

“You’re so addicting, love.” Her face had traveled down to your chest, kissing the skin with adoration and affection that was only ever masked as love. She kissed her way down to your stomach, letting her lips linger for a second too long on your stretch marks. They were the marks of your children, her children.

She took notice of the way you tried to hide in embarrassment, thinking she didn’t like the way you looked anymore. After all, it had been a while since she’d seen you like this.

“Don’t shy away from me, my love, you’re breathtaking. And so, so gorgeous. These marks adorning your skin only makes me love you even more. It shows your bravery, and your pain. It’s a symbol of our love, and of our beautiful babies.” She kissed each one and you nearly broke at her softness. While you two often shared hot, steamy sex that left you both breathless, the soft nature of her made you crumble in the best ways possible.

She had made her way to your waist after climbing off on you and resting her body in between your legs that she got permission to spread. She stared at your wet cunt, licking her lips and smelling your sweet nectar.

“Oh, how I missed this pussy.” Her tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, letting out an enthusiastic moan as your juices entered her tastebuds.

You threw your head back as she sucked your clit for dear life, her eyes fluttering shut as she became engrossed in you.

“You like how that feels, hm? You like how daddy’s mouth feels?”

“Daddy, you eat me so well. God, I- I need it!” She leaned back, your whines filling the room from the loss of her warmth.

“You need to tell daddy what you want, how else will she know?” You tried pulling her head back in place, but she didn’t budge.

“Ah, ah, ah, you know what to do.”

“I need you, Natty. I need your mouth, I need your cock, I need your fingers, I just need you. I don’t want anyone but you, you’re all I think about.” She smiled at that, replacing her tongue with her fingers like you asked. Your clit was rubbed in small circles and your hips bucked up, only to be held back down by Nat’s strong hold.

“You think about me, baby?” You nodded and she leaned over your shaking body.

“What do you think about?…” It was an open question that she couldn’t help but mumble out. The big, Black Widow was shy above you.

“You. Whenever Richard would fuck me, fill me up, and have me bent over, all I thought about was you. I’d- I’d think about your cock, how he was nothing compared to you. He never- ah! He never made me cum the way you do. He’s never made me squirt. He’s never hit my g-spot. And he never pleased me the way you always did.” You paused, your nails scratching her back red as her fingers eased into your hole.

“When I touch myself, you immediately come to mind. When I’d- oh shit! Yes! Right there, daddy!” She fucked you deep with two fingers, curling them to hit your g-spot repeatedly.

“C'mon, be a good girl and tell me everything in that pretty little head of yours.”

“When I fucked myself, it would never be enough. I’d use my fingers, toys, the- the pillows, I did everything, but it wasn’t enough. I haven’t had an orgasm since we broke apart.” This made her stop in her tracks. The realization hit her, she really was the best you ever had.

“You didn’t- you didn’t have an orgasm until me?” You shook your head in embarrassment and fear. You didn’t know what you feared, but you worried she’d leave you after hearing the information.

“Please, I need to cum so badly. It’s been so long.” Her fingers continued after her sudden stop, immediately picking up a quick and sensual pace.

“I want you to cum all over me, Y/N. And then, I wanna fuck you hard with my cock.” Your orgasm came crashing over you, your nails still left on her back digging into her skin and causing small amounts of blood to leak from her.

“Yes! Don’t stop, daddy, don’t fucking stop!” Your moans and pleas only turned her on further and caused wetness to paint her cunt.

“God, you have no idea the effect you have on me.” She whimpered. She let you ride out your release, slowing down her rough speed and watching your blissed-out face. She moved her face down to your cunt, licking up the juices that coated your thighs before pulling out completely. You mewled, the noise soon being muted by her fingers in your mouth. She made you suck off the sweet taste of your cum.

“Where are you going?” You asked when she stood up, walking towards the closet and soon returning with the toy in her hand. Your question had been answered when seeing it. The strap-on she held was your favorite, it never failed to have you screaming by the time she was done. It was long, at least six inches, and had the perfect amount of girth to fill you to the brim and have you begging for more.

“Like what you see?” She teased, only receiving a nod from your end as you were still too spaced out to speak. She harnessed the toy around her waist and sat back on the bed in front of you.

“You gonna fuck me now, daddy?” She groaned in pleasure and held you down, both hands wrapping around your biceps to keep you still.

“You tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

“I will.” One of her hands went to wrap around her length, guiding herself in your tight hole before returning to its spot on your arm. She clenched her teeth together when the strap rubbed against her clit ever so gently. You tightened your fists together as she bottomed out inside of you, pausing to let you adjust before you gave her the okay to continue.

“You’re so fucking tight- fuck! You think your little boyfriend can fuck you like this? Can that pathetic bitch make you cum like I do?” She already knew the answer; no. You had already confessed the embarrassing truth, but she still wanted to use it against you.

“No one can make me feel as good as you do, Nat.” She moved her hips faster, the sound of skin hitting against each other filling the room. You followed her rhythm, sloppily trying to match her pace as to fuck yourself on her cock.

She grabbed your phone from the bedside table, already knowing the password that was her birthday. She opened the camera app and pressed record, showing off your fucked-out face, your mouth wide and your eyes shut. Moans and whimpers escaped you repeatedly, your body bouncing up and down on the bed as the headboard hit the wall over and over. You prayed it wouldn’t wake your kids.

“Look at the camera, baby.” You did as she said, taking the thumb she rested on your lower lip into your mouth and sucking like you had earlier.

“You wanna put on a little show, hm? Wanna show the camera just how much of a dirty slut you really are for me?” You nodded, unable to speak until she ripped her thumb from your lips.

“Answer me, whore.”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you want daddy.” You were cut off by a moan, feeling her tip poking at that spongey spot deep inside of you.

“Shit! I’m your little slut, daddy, only yours!” Your hands grasped the sheets tightly, nearly ripping the soft cotton material in half.

“Mhm, and how do you think your boyfriends gonna react when knowing you’re mine?”

“I don’t care- ah! I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum again, Natty?” She gripped your chin in her free hands, squeezing your mouth open and spitting on your tongue. You swallowed it without a complaint, the action making a smirk cover Nat’s face. She took her palm that had just been resting on your face and slapped your cheek, hard. You bit your lip to hide your moans, too ashamed to show how badly that turned you on.

“Oh? You like when daddy slaps you, little girl?” Both of you had forgotten about the camera filming your every move.

“Mhm, love it so much.” Your stomach was tightening with how badly you needed to finish, but she kept you on edge.

“Please, I’ve been so good for you. Please, please let me cum.” You weakly murmured, only to receive another slap on the same spot.

“Is that how you ask for things? Oh, love, you need to beg better than that.”

“God, please! Please, I’ll do anything, anything you ask of me. Just wan’ you to fill me up, turn me into your breeding bitch and make me a mommy again.” You lost all composure, only being focused on the orgasm waiting for you. You knew how much she loved to hear those words, so you used it to your advantage.

“Yeah? You wanna be daddy’s cum slut? I’ll fill you up with so much fucking cum, you’ll be dripping for me.” The strap was filled with artificial cum, making it possible to fulfill both of your fantasies.

“You want me to put another baby in this precious stomach? You’ll be so beautiful all round and full of me.” You felt like you were holding your breath with how long you were waiting for her permission, but that was her whole point.

“Cum with me, pretty girl. Make daddy proud and fucking cum.” You threw your head back in pleasure and succumbed to the feeling of release. It felt so good, so fucking good. You could feel her cum shooting deep inside of you, it only turned you on further. You could hear a small gasp but you were too far gone to care. You were seeing stars, it was all too euphoric to be able to take in.

“Holy fuck, baby.” You had begun to regain yourself at this point and looked up at Nat with worry.

“What? What’s wrong?” She was staring down at your conjoined bodies, completely mesmerized.

“I just made you squirt.” Even in the long ten years of being together, she had never done so. You don’t think you had ever even done so in your entire life, until now.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry-” You rushed out but she was quick to ease your worries away with a gentle hand leading you back down.

“Don’t you dare apologize for this. I’ve never been happier.” You chuckled and she tossed the phone somewhere on the bed, already ending the recording moments before. She was planning to send it to your boyfriend, Richard, but she knew she needed your permission first.

“Thank you for that, Natty.”

“No, thank you.”

Nearly half an hour later and you two were finally laying in bed after a soft moment of care was shared between you.

“So, are we going to talk about this or what?” Nat sighed, turning to sit on her side, her arm holding her head up.

“Yeah, let’s talk.” And while you hoped it was true at the time, that weekend saved your already-ended marriage. You left your boyfriend soon after with an apology that didn’t matter to him, you still cheated and would always be a cheater in his eyes, but you didn’t blame him for that one.

Your kids were more than happy when you told them the news. No longer would they have to spend weekends with one and weekdays with the other, you were a true family again. Nat finally retired with a promise to be a better mother and a better wife. She felt like she was able to come to you for anything just like you hoped she would. You both attended couples counseling every two weeks and while it wasn’t always easy, you would never make the mistake of letting go of each other again. But really, if you hadn’t divorced, and if you hadn’t spent the weekend with her, you don’t know if you’d be able to fix what was already broken. So, you had the break up to thank. Some thought you were crazy for saying so, but it really did bring you two closer than ever before.

But as pinky-promised, you two would love each other till the end of time. And as she had pinky-promised to herself many years ago, she would always find you in the end. But this time, she didn’t just find you, she found herself, her true self. And nearly four years later, you were able to remarry the woman you spent your entire life loving. And you weren’t going to stop loving her anytime soon.

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f1goat · 6 months

Text

his teammate + lando norris x part ten

In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a dick.

lando norris x fem!verstappen (sister) + cursewords + smut

“I want to take you out somewhere,” Lando sighs, “You deserve a proper date.”

“Patience Lan,” you reply.

“How do you think your brother will respond?” Lando asks you, “Maybe now that he likes me, it won’t be as bad anymore.”

“Uh, Max is really protective,” you explain, “He’s almost acting like he’s my dad sometimes, especially when it’s about boys.”

“We can tell your dad first?” Lando suggests, “if he’s okay with it, Max has no choice right?” When he notices your sad look he almost slaps himself. “Fuck sorry babe, I forgot,” he quickly apologizes, “I won’t start about your dad again.”

“Please call him Jos,” you ask Lando with a soft voice, “I don’t like it when people remind me that he’s my dad.”

“Of course,” Lando replies quickly.

There’s a bit of silence between the two of you. Without knowing it from each other, you’re both thinking about the same subject. Lando thinks about his own family problems and if he would feel relieved if he talked about them with you. You think about telling Lando what happened between Jos and you. You barely talk about it, only Max and Kelly really know everything that happened. Maybe it would help you to talk about it with someone who isn’t part of your family?

“I want to-“ “I think I want to-“

Both of you start almost the same sentence in the same time. Lando is quick to tell you that you can continue first.

“I want to tell you about him,” you tell Lando a lot more confident then you feel.

“I want to tell you about my family as well,” Lando replies, “but first tell me whatever you want about Jos.”

You stay silent for a bit. You think about where to start. There has happened so much between your father - Jos - and you. You want to talk about a lot of it with Lando, but you’re searching for the right words.

“You don’t have to tell me, you know that right?” Lando asks you, “Only tell me if your comfortable with it.”

It keeps surprising you how sweet Lando can be. He thinks about everything. He never forgets about you and your feelings.

“I’m thinking about where to start,” you explain to Lando, “There has happened so much, so I don’t really know where to start.”

Lando shows you a small nod. He will wait for you until you’re ready for it. In the mean time he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer. You feel a lot more comfortable after he did so. He draws figures onto your skin while waiting for you to speak.

“I think that I always knew that Jos was more a father to Max then to me,” you suddenly speak up, “maybe I didn’t realize it when I was younger, but it never surprised me if he wasn’t there for me. It was always about Max. Whenever Max had something with karting, Jos was there. If I had a school performance, Jos wasn’t there. Even when there wasn’t a competition, he always made up an excuse so he and Max were at the karting track.”

You take a couple breaths before continuing. “Jos wasn’t at my school musical when I said goodbye to elementary school, he wasn’t there for my middle school graduation and he also didn’t care which university I chose and which major. He didn’t show up when I graduated university, although Max did. Jos was busy with ‘formula one stuff’ according to himself.” You use your fingers to quote the so called formula one stuff that Jos was busy with.

“At first it hurt, you know,” you explain, “but then it became normal. It was nothing new that only my mother was around. Jos and Max were always gone. I blamed Max as well, but after the divorce mom helped me to see the bigger picture. So I fixed contact with Max, the only problem was that Jos was around as well.”

“That’s a lot,” Lando tells you when you stay silent for a bit, “a father shouldn’t treat his daughter like that, I get that you don’t want him to be called that. Did you and Max drift apart as well after the divorce?”

“Yeah, I saw him as a mini Jos,” you say, “while I found out later that Max is the opposite. Jos did a lot of bad things to him too. When Jos and mom divorced, I took her side and didn’t see Jos for a couple years. Max was around some days, but I made sure that I was away those days.”

“How did your mom fix that?”

“When I was old enough she told me about the things Jos did to Max,” you explain, “I then realized pretty quickly that I was lucky that Jos wasn’t interested in me as his child. After I understood everything, I reached out to Max again. Our contact was quickly pretty good again, something I’m still happy about.”

“But now you also see Jos again or?” Lando asks you. He hasn’t stopped with touching you in the mean time. He is still drawing small figures onto your skin.

“Sometimes,” you sigh, “at first I tried giving him a new chance as well. I though he might have changed, but that thought didn’t last long. He’s a dick and he has proven that quite some times.”

“You’re such a good person,” Lando tells you, “I can’t imagine being as nice as you are.”

“It bit me in the ass,” you reply bitterly.

“You got Max back,” Lando states.

“Thank god for that,” you sigh, “but I can’t wait till Max finally says goodbye to Jos.”

“What kind of things does he do?” Lando asks you.

“Do you know some of the rumors about him? The ones about Jos leaving Max behind when he lost a karting race?” You ask Lando. He is quick to nod. “All those rumors are true. It’s not only that, but I can’t really tell what he did to Max all those times. That’s Max his story.”

“Of course,” Lando quickly says, “but I care about what Jos did to you.”

“It wasn’t as bad as with Max,” you tell, “but when I started seeing him again nothing changed. Maybe it was stupid, but I kept waiting for some sort of apology or at least that he acknowledged what he did to me when I was young. He never said anything. Jos continued to act like I wasn’t important.”

“Fuck babygirl,” Lando sighs, “He should know what he has been missing all those years.”

You show Lando a small smile before continuing. “I told him about what I did for school, he didn’t care about one small thing of it. I don’t want to brag, but I completed university with perfect grades. He didn’t even congratulate me. That’s sick, right?”

“Yes!” Lando agrees with you.

“It’s just like I don’t exist for him,” you state, “so now I treat him the same way.”

Lando doesn’t reply at first. He pulls you closer at himself. You let your head lay against his chest. Lando slowly plays with your hair.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Lando tells you again, “You’re an amazing person and he is an idiot for missing all that.”

“Thank you Lan,” you reply with a small smile, “That means a lot.”

“I uh, I went through something similar,” Lando starts to tell you, “I don’t know if I can explain it as well as you just did but I’ll try.”

“The same is for you Lan, only tell me when you comfortable sharing,” you remind Lando of his earlier words. He shows you a small nod before looking away from you.

“I’m not in contact with anyone from my family anymore,” Lando tells you at first. You notice the way his own words pain him. He has a sad look on his face. “It’s not only my fault, but I blame a lot of it on myself,” Lando continues, “You will be honest with me right? After I explained it, please tell me what you think.”

“I’ll try Lan,” you reply, “but I might be a bit biased already.”

Lando shows you a small smile before continuing. “I guess it happened right after my formula one debut,” Lando explains, “I don’t know if you know anything about my first season?”

You shake your head as a response.

“I do mean to brag,” Lando says jokingly referring to your earlier words, “but my first season I was phenomenal. They called me the best rookie in years. I got onto the podium a couple times, got my first pole position and scored a lot of points. I was better then my teammate that year. Everyone around me was so proud and seemed to love me.”

“I can imagine, that sounds great Lan,” you reply.

“It all went to my head, I thought I was the best driver ever and became really arrogant,” Lando continues, “I had gotten used to being in the centre of attention and did a lot of things to keep it that way. I’m not proud of what happened, but I used an influencer for more popularity and I became a total dick.”

“My parents warned me a couple times for what I was turning into,” Lando says, “but after a while they were done with it. I get it, but at that moment maybe not. They uh decided that I was bad publicity for my family name, so they made sure there was no more contact between us. Nothing major happened before that. I didn’t fought with them or did something I shouldn’t have done to them. They were done with me and that was it.”

You don’t know what to say.

“And you’ve still no contact with them?” You ask Lando.

“They act like I don’t exist,” Lando answers, “I tried to get back with them, but they ignored me every time. I went by the house, but they didn’t open the door multiple times. They ignore my messages and phone calls, I even believe they have blocked me.”

“Fuck that’s sick,” you sigh.

“You think so? Don’t I deserve it in some way?” Lando asks you unsure.

“Lan, no one deserve that,” you tell him, “I mean, you were probably very young when you got into formula one. You didn’t know how to handle the sudden fame. They should have guided you and helped you if their image was that important for them. I’m not saying that what you did was allright, but you didn’t deserve this.”

Lando lets out a relieved sigh.

“Lately someone told me it was all my fault,” Lando tells you, “that I uh can’t change and that I don’t deserve people around me. People like you.”

“That’s bullshit,” you reply hastily, “Look how much you have changed since the beginning of this season! You deserve nice people around you as much as anyone else.”

Lando doesn’t reply to your words. He simply looks at you. How is it possible that he got a girl like you? What did he do to deserve you? It keeps amazing him that he actually pulled it off. He got you all for himself.

“Who told you that you didn’t deserve this?” You continue to ask Lando.

“Uh, it was Maisie,” Lando replies honestly.

“The girl that was in your drivers room?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah,” Lando sighs, “but there’s a bit more history with her to be honest. She’s also the influencer I just told you about. It’s a while back that all that happened, but after she found out she still sticked around for sex.”

“Ooh,” you quietly say.

“I never felt something for her,” Lando quickly says, “and I haven’t spoken with her since that incident in my drivers room. I also blocked her.”

“Lan relax,” you say with a small smile, “I trust you. You know that right?”

“Really?” Lando asks you, “Even after what I just told you? I’ve been a dick.”

“I trust you even more now,” you tell him.

Before Lando can reply with another question, you move yourself a bit. You take a seat onto his lap and lean forwards to press a kiss against his lips. Lando wraps his arms around you. When you remove your lips from his, he is quick to pull you back in. Kissing you again in no time.

“You’re the best thing that happened to me in a long time,” Lando confesses to you a bit later, “please believe me that I’m trying my hardest to keep earning you.”

You blush after hearing Lando his words. “You’ve already earned me,” you confess to Lando, “I really like you Lan.”

“And I’m fucking thankful for that.”

+++

“What are you doing lately?” Max asks you when you enter the living room. You’re ready to get out to Lando - once again. “I have the feeling that I barely see you,” Max adds, “You’re always gone.”

Max is right. You can’t say anything else. Fuck. You wonder which excuse you can use.

“Is there a boy?” Max asks you further.

“Yeah,” you confess, “but I’m not ready yet to introduce you.”

Max smiles. “I knew it!” He states, “I knew there was a boy.”

You laugh about his enthusiastic reaction. Hopefully he will still be like this when he finds out who it is. Max asks you a couple questions, some you answer and some you keep private. You tell him that it’s something new, that it’s only since a couple weeks but that it feels longer already. You don’t tell him anything about Lando himself. You don’t share things about his appearance or profession.

“Sorry Max,” you say, “I will really tell you first when I’m ready.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Max tells you, “as long as he treats you right, I’ll like him.”

“Promise?” You ask.

“Promise. Whoever it is, if you trust him then I trust him.”

After those words you leave the apartment once again to visit Lando. What you don’t know is that Max is already texting with Kelly about you and your secret boy.

Max: it’s a boy!! She finally confessed

Kelly: who??

Max: that’s the stupid part

Max: she won’t tell me yet

Kelly: it’s Lando.

Max: ????

Kelly: Max we already concluded that he’s in love with her

Kelly: I know for sure it’s him

Max: for fucks sake

Max: what now?

Kelly: wait till they tell you

Kelly: or catch them :)

Max: I might have a plan

Max: but I might need Pierre for that

part eleven

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines

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dreamauri · 4 months

Text

┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part seven, finale <3 ┇ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen x wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( fluff ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( 1, 074 ) ╰ 🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous )

Max tapped his finger in the back of his other hand, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The gentle breeze swept into the apartment, prompting the two bengal cats to jump up and cuddle into max’s body. The blond didn’t hesitate to pet the cats gently, scratching behind their ears and rubbing their belly.

It was too empty, He sighed. The whole place was too empty, the spot you’d occupy was now an empty piece of space. And Max couldn’t help but think, he’s his father’s son, isn’t he? Was your mother right? That he didn’t really like you and it was a stupid crush?

No! It wasn’t a stupid crush. Max reminded himself. He loved you. He wanted to have kids with you and grow old with you. You were simply the smartest, most amazing, caring, kindest, and loveliest person he’s ever met. And he’d do anything to keep you happy. Even if it was letting you. He didn’t even have a say because he had brought you here without giving you a choice.

But what truly broke Max’s heart was, he truly thought you loved him as much as you do.

And he’ll hurt over it. 6 months until the divorce papers are fully processed and the rest of his life without you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was all dull for sure. People were starting to get suspicious of your absence, starting to make rumours about you or just plain out ridiculing you for not supporting your husband. Max believed the peak of such media bitting was here at the finale. 5 months and he’s never had to laugh off ‘where’s y/n?’ as much. He gave them the same answer. ‘She’s babysitting the cats. I don't want them scratching into our couch’.

Only Daniel actually knew where you were, and now that they were at the season finale filming the secret santa videos. Max wasn’t really optimistic about the gift receiving because what he wanted surely wasn’t going to fit in this little envelope or this little hand sized box.

“I have no idea what this is.” He blew out a breath, shaking the box. It was light and small, rattling easy. Max opted for the box first since the envelope said open in private. Opening it, max frowned upon seeing a box of deck cards. With the words ‘you didn’t teach me how to play solitaire like you promised, yet’.

“Ita deck of cards. With the words . . .” He took them out reading, furrowing his eyebrows to see.

“Who on the grid doesn’t know- holy shit.” As soon as Max saw Daniel watching him from afar, he knew right away. “It’s from daniel.” the dutch laughed, looking down at your handwriting. You were the only person in his orbit who didn’t know how to play any sort of card games.

“Do you know?” Daniel asked once he approached his former teammate. “You see the envelope yet?” “It says open-” “just turn around, i’ll make sure no one sees it.” And the blond did just that, facing away from the camera and pulling the envelope open. His eyes meet shreds of paper. “You’re crazy!” Max looked back back at Daniel with his jaw on the floor.

“It’s a private matter.” Daniel explained to the interviewer whilst the camera looking at daniel shocked and taken aback, disbelief but a neutral face still. “It’s not ripped all the way so you can do the rest if you want.” the woman behind the mic chuckled. Max got shredded paper and a deck of cards? How funny.

But to Max, these meant the world. Because he was literally having the most fun in his entire life continuing to rip apart the divorce papers in his hotel room that night.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The curtains were drawn and the windows were open. You’d been here. Max quickly entered the apartment looking around. Your canvases and painting equipment were out on the balcony and your clothes were back in the closet. Max had never been so happy to hug one of your hoodies. You weren’t here, the only thing reassuring max of your safety was the note you left on the fridge.

‘No eggs, brb’ He smiled to himself, taking it off the fridge. He can wait a few more minutes till you’re back– . . . or you could actually return right now, while he’s all sleep deprived in need of a shower and dishevelled . . .

Max felt himself panic hearing the door click, a pang in his heart as he heard you push the door open and step in. With your carton of eggs, and a box on top. Once you caught his eye from across the room, you both froze. You stood in silence for a few moments before you finally cleared your throat and walked into the apartment.

You didn’t say a word. Setting the carton in the fridge and the box on the island. Max couldn’t help but look between you and the item curiously. “I—its an apology gift . . . It’s glass paint and brushes.” you pushed it towards him. “I’m . . . I’m For telling you through daniel . . . and for being so gullible.” Max welcomed you into his arms, hugging you back immediately.

“I shouldn’t have let her get through my head like that. I should’ve listened to you.” Max didn’t want to say anything, he just wanted to listen to you. He owed you that. “I–i just want to be with you. Whether it's going to every race or staying here in Monaco. You really make me happy.”

Max felt his heart skip a beat at your words. He set his chin on top of your head, squeezing you in his arms. “Our story didn’t have a happy beginning, but I’d very much like for it to have a happy ending.”

Max chuckled, smiling down at you. “You just quoted kung fu Panda?” You shrugged, giving him a tiny smile. “It's a good movie.” You said before cupping his cheeks, pulling him down for a kiss. A very long and much needed kiss because Max found his arms wrapped around you, unable to pull away. You guess your apology is accepted.

“You taste like car.” you giggled into the kiss. “You showered after the race?” Max shook his head. “I-i came to see you right away.” he said between kisses. “Let's go shower then.” You hummed as the two of you stumbled through the apartment, pulling each other's clothes off.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

maxerstappen1 posted on their story

liked by pieregasly charles_leclerc and 32.8k others

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robthegoodfellow · 15 days

Text

Step 9

pre-Harringrove, references to addiction/recovery, references to AIDS epidemic, 90s earworms

originally published in @strangerthingscharityzine | read on ao3

Steve didn’t know what he’d been expecting until the bells above the diner door let out a merry jingle—and there he was.

Apparently his subconscious had imagined someone gaunt, haggard. A shaky mess. Not that he’d sounded like that on the phone, despite the obvious nerves.

I’m looking for Steve Harrington? Dunno if he lives here anymore. The voice was gruff in a way that enticed, so he’d said this is Steve, and the ensuing silence was broken by a cough. Oh—uh, hi. This is… Billy Hargrove. From high school?

Sense memory knocked him flat—Hargrove taunting him at practice, pressed against him, tongue wagging; crouched above, pummeling; on his knees, clinging to consciousness, the Mind Flayer melted mush.

Hargrove stumbled through a semi-rehearsed spiel. How he was in recovery, had reached the step of compiling the people he’d done wrong. How he wanted to make amends—could do it over the phone or in person or not at all, which he’d understand.

I’m back in Hawkins, but I can drive—and Steve had interrupted that he was in Hawkins, too. Did not say he’d been back a couple months, ever since Nance said they needed to talk.

It was a little pathetic, how eager Steve had been to meet up with a guy he hadn’t thought of in over a decade, because the only friends nearby were his and Nancy’s friends in Indianapolis.

So they’d made plans, and here they were: Steve, a soon-to-be divorcé working a soulless job at the family business, who at least had his hair, health, a measure of wealth; and Billy, not even slightly a woebegone waste case—scanning the booths with piercing baby blues, hair shorn on the sides, tawny curls piled on top. His ears glittered with metal hoops and studs, and that skin was bronze as Steve remembered. New tattoos twined his arms, disappeared under the white tank hanging loose from his shoulders, tucked into tight jeans.

He’d gained some weight—stood solid. Thick. It suited him.

Spotted, Steve raised an awkward hand, pursed awkward lips, and when Billy scooted in opposite, the exchanged hellos were—yep—awkward.

Unsure of the protocol for amends, Steve tried small talk—learned Billy lived with Max, who was caring for her ailing mother. His dad was still in the wind, vanished post-flaying while Billy was comatose.

Far as Steve knew, Billy had likewise vanished after a spell in the ICU. Rumors he’d been abducted by the government, but most figured he’d run off. Done the reasonable thing and put Hawkins behind him.

Turned out it was both. In exchange for his silence plus months in a secret lab, they’d set him up in the city of his choosing—and he’d chosen home. San Diego.

“Got an apartment, started community college…” Billy shrugged. “Over-indulged in the club scene. Couldn’t keep a job, couldn’t sleep. Tipped some bad dominoes. Hurt some good people.”

He’d been sober about a year, fully committed to the whole body-is-my-temple mentality. Been using music and exercise as his outlet whenever he itched.

“Went from bar hopping to gym bunny?” Steve suggested, and Billy flicked an assessing glance, wondering if the pun was deliberate.

It was. Steve’s mouth twitched, and Billy huffed a laugh. “Least I’m not eating rabbit food,” he said, nodding at Steve’s very sad salad.

“Hey, it’s tough diving into singlehood at our age,” he protested. “Gotta whip myself into shape.”

Billy guessed it—divorce?—and winced, commiserating.

“How about you?” No ring, he noted. “Seeing anyone?”

“Ah—nope,” Billy replied, with a self-deprecating snort. “Not the marrying kind.”

And that… wasn’t quite what Steve asked. “Not the dating kind, either?”

Billy grimaced, conducted a short debate with the middle distance, and cleared his throat. “How about I say what I came to say and then we can… keep chatting. If you want.”

Steve pushed his plate aside, hands folded like it was a contract negotiation. “Okay.”

Deep inhale, and Billy mirrored him. “All right. So—I’ve been working backwards through people I’ve hurt, and you’re part of the last group. From when I was still a kid, technically, but old enough to do real damage. And… whether or not I need to… I want to. Like, it feels good to… purge, I guess.”

Beating Steve’s head in—that’s what he wanted to apologize for. He could have inflicted some lasting traumatic injury, hoped he hadn’t—you didn’t, Steve assured him, I’ve always been this confused—and had since developed other ways to cope with and express his anger.

“Like what?” he asked, curious. Billy blinked, lost track of his mental cue cards.

“Like—meditation,” he said, and Steve pictured him cross-legged on the beach at sunset, centering his chakra. “And journaling. And…” He scrunched his nose, flushed. “Uh—crochet.”

“Is that… when you hit balls through little hoops?”

“That’s croquet. Crochet is like—” Billy huffed, dragging hands down his cheeks. “It’s like knitting, okay? Will you let me just…?”

Steve waved for him to continue, mimed zipping his lips. Covered his mouth at the thought of Billy knitting blankets of rage. This was serious, he scolded himself. Knock it off.

But… teasing Billy was fun. Gave him a strange thrill. Like when they used to spar at school. Banter.

Taking a deep breath, Billy found where he’d left off. “Right. Anger management. But I’ve also been re-examining my—motivations. Because for awhile, I told myself you deserved it, that I was protecting Max from shady dudes who’d lured her to the woods—”

Well, that’s fair, Steve thought, his perspective on that night radically shifting. Optics not great.

“—But I didn’t give a shit about Max,” Billy confessed. “I was just mad she got me in trouble with my dad and ruined my date… mad you lied to me about her being there, and that she’d ignored me about Sinclair, and… mad I was in Bumfuck Nowhere. So—I’m grateful you grabbed me off the kid. I’ve already made amends with him. And with Max. And I’m sorry I beat you so bad. Sorry I took it out on you.”

Steve hadn’t even remembered some of those details until Billy blew off the dust—one of those weird moments where you realize a hazy event was crystalline for someone else. Vivid and weighted with meaning.

“It’s fine, man,” Steve said, simple and easy, and Billy nodded, a fine tremor up and down. “Water under the bridge. I’m glad you’re—”

“I’m a fag,” Billy said, blunt. The eyes that rose to meet him were flat. Slate blue. “S'why I’m not the marrying kind.” A short, fractured laugh, devoid of humor. “And don’t think you’d call it dating, what I was doing. Russian roulette, more like. I should be dead several times over by now. Dunno how I’m not.”

Steve swallowed hard, couldn’t wipe the dumb shock—and the blue slate buckled, about to crack. So he revised his sentence from before. “I’m glad you’re not.” Managed a weak smile, heartfelt. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Billy ducked, but Steve caught the flash of wet. Slate in the rain. “I don’t have it,” he muttered, single sniff. “In case you’re wondering.”

And Steve meant to say I’m glad, a broken record but a sincere one, only the thing gnawing at him since the separation hijacked his mouth. “Nancy thinks I’m in love with this guy at work. This guy who’s a man.”

Billy’s head swung up, thrown off course for maybe the fourth time since he’d entered the cafe, and Steve facepalmed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s not why we’re here. I keep dive bombing your… amending. Amendment?”

That might have broken Billy—the poor dude slumped forward, brow on the table.

“I really am sorry,” Steve repeated, earnest. “And I’m glad you’re okay. That’s what I meant to say—that I’m glad you’re okay.”

A long sigh, and Billy propped his chin on folded wrists. “Are you in love with this guy who’s a man?”

“No,” Steve said, heating as it dawned on him that Guy Who’s a Man bore a striking resemblance to Man Sitting Opposite. “It’s more—crippling lust.”

“Did you cheat?”

“No!” Then, dialing his tone from offended to firm: “I don’t do that.”

“Okay.” Billy straightened, thinking. “I’m not the best person to be anyone’s gay sensei, but I’m gonna give you my number in case you need to talk about this shit. And you better be careful. Be safe if you decide to… dip your toes in the water.”

Through the wall-mounted speakers, Jewel wondered one last time who would save their souls if they wouldn't save their own, the track winding to a close, and Steve had opened his mouth to ask Do you think we could have done that, way back then? Dipped our toes in the water? when Billy scrambled upright, nope, nope, nope under the faint strains of the next tune.

“Gotta go—this song’s gonna wreck my sobriety.” Finger guns, backpedaling. “You pay up. I’ll wait outside.”

Steve cocked an ear, bemused, listening hard all the way to the register. Plucky melody, a crooning boyish falsetto, incomprehensible—then finally, impassioned: Can you tell me who will still care?

The chorus kicked in as he walked out, and Steve caught on—laughed at the sky.

Mmm bop, ba duba dop Ba du bop, ba duba dop Ba du bop, ba duba dop Ba du—

He sang along, full chested: “Yea-ee-yea-ah!”

Billy groaned, slipping him seven scribbled digits with the air of already regretting his decisions.

“Thanks,” Steve said, genuine, running his thumb across the numbers. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” Billy swiped his curls. Unwilling smile. “Maybe.”

💛.🎶.💛

#harringrove #this started as an experimental subversion of the *billy must atone for his SINS* trope #and then turned into more of a what if billy and steve met up as adults #when both of them are starting a new chapter in their lives kinda thing #and here we are #sorry about the hanson

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billthedrake · 1 year

Text

This is another story I started yet didn't get very far with.

THE HARRIS MEN

I felt close to both of my brothers, and somehow that bond had grown as we each had our families. Marriage, kids, and, in the case of my youngest brother Tim, divorce.

Through my late 20s and early 30s, I felt guilty still fooling around with them. It wasn't often, but we'd see each other maybe twice a year, at the holidays and for a big Harris family gathering in the summer. Given the size of the extended family - spouses and 11 kids between us Harris brothers - it was hard to sneak in some bro-on-bro time. But we'd gotten pretty good at it.

My younger brother Tim was outright enthusiastic and had a number of gay experiences in college and med school. My older brother Max was a college football coach and seemed about as heterosexual as they come, only he was laid back when it came to sex and made it clear this was a Harris bond.

I was in between. Definitely bi but wanting to do right with my marriage and for the mother of my children. But eventually my brothers won me over - Tim's enthusiasm and Max's nonchalance - and I made peace with this one exception to my marriage vows.

"Fuck, bro, you feel nice," Max said as his naked body writhed on top of mine on the hotel bed. I'd flown out to see one of his home games and now my big bro was taking advantage of our one-on-one time for a nice slow session. I'd sucked him some in his coach khakis, which was hotter than I expected, before he stripped me and worshipped my boner. Lovingly, expertly. Somehow my mostly heterosexual big bro had learned some new tricks.

"You been getting some practice, bro?" I gasped as he finally pulled off, just as I was about to cum. My dick twitched excitedly as I still felt his breath on it.

"Long story, but yeah," he said with a smirk as he climbed up on top of me and met me with a hot kiss.

I made out with him. His own dick jerked and I wondered if he was as close as I was. But we enjoyed riding the edge, seeing how long we could make it last. We'd discovered that last time by accident. As much as I enjoyed fooling around with Tim, Max knew how to push my buttons. No other way to put it, he was an expert top. So skilled at making me feel good that even when he started fucking for his own pleasure, not mine, it was a turn on, too.

"Who you doing, bro?" I looked up into his gruff-handsome face. He was starting to get gray hairs, already at 44, and damnit it suited him. A lot. I imagined one of his players pinned beneath him in this very position. Or maybe some young guy on the team's training staff. "Come on, you can tell me."

He leaned up, looking down on me with an intense look. Brotherly love. Lust. Trust. "This stays between us... right?"

"Oh yeah," I said. I knew that even beyond Max's marriage, which he valued as much as I did mine, he had a job that made him vulnerable. "Promise."

He still seemed hesitant. "You remember how Tim always had the hots for Dad?"

None of us ever did anything with our father, at least not to my knowledge, but our younger brother had a daddy kink and was vocal about it. Besides, Dad was a strong, masculine man, a city cop who'd inspired me to go into law enforcement myself.

"Yeah," I said, not sure where this was going.

Max gave me a sly look. "Let's just say JR and John might be wired the same way. Maybe Steve, too, but nothing's happened there yet."

My eyes widened for sure. Max had a lot of kids. He'd always joked that his wife had made a good Catholic of him. Of seven children, six were boys, and that always made my older brother seem especially virile to me.

Max Jr and John were the oldest, currently playing college ball and doing their best to follow in their dad's footsteps, JR at the very program Max coached. The idea was incredible and admittedly a little hot. "Bro are you saying...?"

He nodded, a little vulnerability seeping into his horndog married-dad face. I could read the look of a man who felt he was in a little over his head. "I didn't initiate anything, but decided to just go with it a couple years ago, you know? Apparently my boys are all about this," he said, gesturing to his thick hairy middle-aged body.

"Can't blame them," I said, excitedly, running my hands along his furry muscle and imagining JR or... fuck... 18-year-old lineman John doing the same.

He looked at me nervously. "So you're not disgusted with me, bro?"

I shook my head. "No. I mean, are you disgusted that I find the idea kind of hot?"

He smirked. "Never knew what you thought when Tim went off on his Daddy talk."

"Well, you got to be the daddy most of the time," I joked. Tim loved getting fucked and while both Max and I got to do the honors, as we grew older, I increasingly enjoyed being penetrated as a change from straight sex. When Max and I had a chance to be together that's how it always went down. Older bro fucking younger bro.

"Still am," he winked, his hips running his hardon along my perineum.

"Fuck," I growled, finding myself getting very turned on. "Don't take this the wrong way, bro, but JR's one hot stud. John, too."

"You don't have to tell me," he said. His dick was angry twitching now. Pressing against the bottom of my balls with each thrust. "OK if I fuck you now?" His voice had a certain urgency to it.

"Oh yeah," I agreed, pulling apart my legs and giving him access to lube my hole.

Our sex wasn't loving. It was rushed, heated, primal. Max needed to get off. I needed to get fucked. I grunted as he bottomed out on entry but sucked it up. By the third thrust it felt good. Soon it felt great.

"Have you fucked them, bro?" I asked excitedly pulled on my hard dick, almost a carbon copy match for the Harris cock pumping in me.

He nodded. "I've been fucking JR for a little while now." If I thought it was an incredibly hot surprise to hear those words from my big brother's mouth, I could tell it was turning him the fuck on just to speak them. He thrust in firmly, wildly, and added, "I took John's cherry a couple of weeks ago." I watched as my butch coach of a big brother twisted his face in sudden orgasm and let out a deep-voiced cry. "Goddaman!"

Like that, I knew I was getting sauced and good. I imagined my big bro losing control like that in my football-jock nephew's virgin ass and that did it for me, too. Heavy jets of cum pumped out, and I felt like I nearly blacked out.

Max had a big shit-eating grin as we uncoupled and recovered from our orgasm. "And here I was nervous to tell ya, man," he smiled.

I stretched out my legs. I hadn't had a lot of dude-on-dude sex, but I was convinced Max was the best top out there, period. He always made feel alive, and deeply satisfied. "You tell Tim yet?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. I guess I haven't had the one-on-one time since he's started seeing Scott."

Our little bro's divorce was messy, but it was clear he was gay more than bi. I was happy to see him able to be himself more, even if I knew he had a hard time renegotiating his life. Divorced, with a son who he saw only every other weekend, and now dating an older man.

We made out for a while, and talked some more. Then made out again. I almost thought Max would go for seconds. He sometimes did. But as he looked as he watch he got a wistful look on his face. "All right big guy, I'm afraid I gotta get home."

I nodded. I could use the rest. Last time I'd gone home with just a few hours sleep and was like a hungover wreck. My wife didn't say anything, but I could tell she wasn't happy.

I watched him get dressed. As he tucked back into his khakis he winked at me. "Thanks for coming out, bro. Seriously, it means the world to me. The kids, too."

I felt bad. Now I was Uncle Dave, not hot brother-lover Dave. "Holidays aren't far away," I said. "Maybe we can pick somewhere fucking warm this year." Max laughed. We'd met Tim in New York last year and had to deal with an arctic blast the whole week.

Max gathered up his phone and wallet and gave me one last look, appraising my naked and well-fucked body. I loved the way he looked at me. It was like we were teenagers in his room at home, fooling around after one of his games.

"You're looking great, by the way," he said. And like that he opened the hotel room door and left.

Max's confession had me thinking. About my nephews, of course. JR and John Harris were both typical jocks. Good kids, but a little single-focused on being athletes and impressing their dad. I'd like to say that my brother would have been proud of them whatever they did, but who am I kidding? Max wanted his boys to be incredible football players and have that pro career that was out of his grasp. Or, barring that, his boys would become the best goddamn football coaches in the country. A real Harris dynasty.

That's how Max was, with high expectations for my nephews. Even 13-year-old Daniel was hitting the weights and drinking protein gainer shakes. And the only thing keeping freshman Grayson back from varsity was the fact that his older brother Steve was clearly the star quarterback and team captain. Gray was eating up being the star of the JV team but itched to prove himself like his older brothers.

It was wild that Max was having sex with his two eldest. Mindblowingly hot. He'd always talked about the Harris tradition when it was him and me and Tim having our bro-bonding time. But this was a whole new level.

The problem was, it had me thinking about my own eldest. Matt was growing and growing fast. He'd had his growth spurt a late, a year ago, but was making up for lost time, gaining both height and an athletic frame quickly. My wife and I sent the kids to private school, and Matt took to lacrosse from middle school on. He had my height and the those Harris genes. Now a senior, he was spending time lifting and packing on some muscle on his fit teenage frame.

I'd inherited my dad's looks and my mom's blonde hair. For Matt, it was the opposite. He was blond, just a shade dirtier than my own paler hair, but he had a lot of facial features from his mother's side. Still definitely my kid, still a Harris, but somehow more beautiful. Ruddy cheeks, perfectly proportioned nose, great smile.

Even as I watched him now on the lacrosse practice field I had to remark how incredibly attractive my son was. My Matt. Somehow angelic and typical jocky masculine at the same time.

I had an earlier shift than Kate so I picked up the kids from school. My daughter Kelly and my youngest son Logan were in elementary school and got out earlier. I dropped them at home and an hour went to pick up Matt. He had his license now, but my wife's car was in the shop and we were short a vehicle. So Kate took Matt's car and played chauffeur. Still I let Matt drive home, he always seemed to like when I let him take the wheel.

"Hey Dad," he greeted as he walked up to the SUV in his lacrosse shorts and a fresh T-shirt. His hair was still wet from the post-practice shower. He was a weeks past his eighteenth birthday but already he seemed older, like a college kid. Even his distinctive teen-deep voice was getting more of a tenor quality.

"Hiya buddy," I greeted, leaning against the driver's side. "Good practice? Looks like you were killing it out there," I winked. Matt was an attacker and had the right amount of aggression and strategy on the field. He was eyeing college programs and was pretty sure to get some good scholarship offers.

Matt gave a proud grin. "Yeah, pretty good. Am I driving today?"

I smiled and tossed him the keys, walking around to the passenger side.

My son was becoming a better driver, more confident but also careful. It was like he was anticipating my lecturing comments.

Something seemed on his mind, but I chalked it up to being a moody teenager. But as we pulled up to a red light, Matt looked over at me. "Can I talk to you about something, Dad?"

"Of course," I said automatically. At that age, you never know what issues are going to arise but you have to be prepared for anything, big or small. It was part of being a parent.

"It's kind of about sex," my son added.

"You know my policy," I said. I'd always told Matt I had an open-door policy and that he could come to me with any questions about sex or dating or anything really. It was a conversation I'd have to have in a few years with Logan.

He gave me a quick smile and looked back in time to see the light turn green. He started driving again, eyes on the road, but continued his conversation.

"I think I'm bisexual," he stated plainly. I could see he was nervous telling me. I was proud he'd had the guts to be honest.

"You know that makes no difference to me, or your mother," I said, repeating part of the birds and the bees talk about sexual orientation. I looked over at him. God he was such an attractive young man, and now he had two genders that would be after him. "You're being careful, like we talked about?"

Matt nodded, letting me know my lectures were understood. "Actually, I haven't done anything. But I want to, Dad. Real bad." His voice had a real vulnerability to it that melted my heart. I remember being Matt's age and feeling those hormones and wanting sex so bad and not being able to do a damn thing about it. It's probably why Max and I started fooling around to be honest.

"Anything you want to talk about?" I asked. I never pried in my son's life but he seemed like he needed to talk.

Matt nodded, his face reddening. "I think a lot about guys. Sometimes it's all I think about. I feel messed up."

"You're not messed up, buddy," I assured him. It pained me to see my son wrestling with this. "Can I share something? This does not go back to your mother, but I have some experiences with men."

That shocked Matt for sure, and he had to check himself before taking his eyes off the road. Fortunately we came to another stoplight. "For real Dad?" he asked excitedly. I knew then I'd made the right decision in telling him.

I nodded. "Again, this stays between us."

Matt looked at me with an open, sincere expression and nodded. "Any chance we can go some place and talk?"

I knew we shouldn't take too long getting home. But I nodded. "Make a right up there."

Matt pulled into a parking lot in front of a deserted closed strip mall, one that was slated to be redeveloped. It was the parking lot where I first gave him his driving lessons.

"Park right there," I instructed. He pulled in and put the SUV in park, then turned off the engine.

"Having a hard time?" I asked, undoing my seat belt to face him.

He nodded. "You ever want somebody so bad and feel you can't do anything about it?" he asked.

"Look Matt," I started. "It's been a long time since I was in your shoes, but I know some of what you're feeling." I paused. "Is it one of your teammates?"

He grinned and shook his head. "No, they're attractive, I guess, but you know my buddy Kyle?"

I nodded. Kyle was his best friend since 5th grade and a baseball jock at the public school.

"Well," Matt said, unsure if he should say it. "I have the hots for Kyle's dad."

I was not expecting that. "Oh," I said. "Matt, buddy...."

"I know Dad," Matt objected. "I know that stuff's forbidden and in any case I'm pretty sure Mr. Carter wouldn't be interested. I mean he's older and smoking hot, and I'm just an awkward teenager."

I breathed out a sigh. How to broach this? I knew I was walking a fine line but I also felt I had to reassure Matt while also cautioning him.

"You go for older men?" I asked in as reassuring of a Dad voice as I could muster.

Matt nodded, blushing. "Yeah, fraid so Dad. Sometimes I think about one of the teachers or Coach Patterson... sometimes it's... other guys."

"You know any of those men could get in trouble with a young man your age."

Matt nodded, sheepishly. "I know, Dad. And I don't want that, but fuck..." he paused as he realized he'd cursed but continued. "Do I gotta wait till college to have sex?"

"Buddy, I don't know what to tell you," I said. "I guess there's my official answer and my unofficial answer."

"I already know your official answer," he laughed, and I laughed too.

"Unofficially?" he finally asked, his blue eyes peering into mine with a kind of challenge. For a second I thought my son was hitting on me and the idea went straight to my dick. I guess with the sex talk I was low-key primed for it, but now I felt a boner stiffen in my suit trousers.

"Unofficially," I replied, not taking my eyes off his. "Just be very careful son. You're a very... attractive young man... and some older men might take advantage of your age."

Matt smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

"For what?" I asked, an involuntary smile matching his. Our eye contact was still heavy. I was sure it was just Matt enjoying the freedom to talk openly. But in the back of my mind it was something more.

"For not lecturing me. For understanding what it's like."

I shrugged. "I remember how it felt to be a horny high schooler" I answered.

Matt nodded thoughtfully. "Does that go away?" he laughed nervously.

"The horny part?" I said. "No."

Matt chuckled. "Fuck!" Then "Sorry, Dad."

"It's OK. We're talking man to man here."

Those blue eyes were looking deeply into me once again. "In that case... you still get horny, Dad?"

Oh fuck, I wanted to be strong. I wanted to know how to steer this ship from crashing on the rocks. Instead, I felt rock hard. "I do, son."

It was like my son was the one reading my emotions now, reassuring me. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell Mom anything. I'm not going to tell any one."

Then casually he leaned back in the driver's seat and I could see it. A nice piece of teen erection pushing up his lacrosse shorts. "If you um," he said, getting up the courage. "you know... want me to take care of you, I'll do it, Dad."

I nodded. This was going to happen. I was going to let it happen. I reached down and undid my belt. My cock ached and begged to be free. "Only if you let me return the favor," I said. Those were the hardest words I'd ever said in my life, and somehow also the easiest.

"Oh yes," he said. He undid his seat belt, clearly excited. I had to be out of my mind but I wanted this. Wanted my Matt. I'd barely pulled out my cock from my trousers when Matt leaned over and started taking me into his mouth.

"Easy buddy," I urged him. His technique was impatient, and I had to instruct him in how to give head. He was a quick study and pretty quickly was bobbing up and down on my stiff prick.

"God yes," I grunted, doing my best to keep from cumming immediately - and to keep an eye out in the parking lot. I was a detective for the state police and the last thing I needed was for someone to discover me with my own son sucking me off.

The idea had me shooting, hard. I came in heavy pulses right into Matt's hungry throat.

"Sorry I didn't warn you, buddy," I said as my son rose off, face reddened. "Kind of lost control."

"'s OK Dad," he said with a half-dreamy expression, the thickness of my cum still evident in his voice. "I liked it." He leaned back up in the driver's seat and pushed his shorts and underwear down. God, my son had a dick on him. Like he inherited the Harris cock and a little more. And it looked even bigger with nutsac mostly smooth, a contrast to the blond pubes that had already filled out. "You gonna suck me?" he asked, horny beyond belief.

I nodded and started to lean over. "Just keep a lookout to make sure no one's around. Hear?"

"Yessir," Matt hissed and then I started licking him. "Oh fuck that's nice."

I wetted his cock, my son's cock, and then took him into my mouth. Nothing could have told me how crazy and exciting it would be to feel my own son's dick pushing along my tongue and to the back of my mouth. Even if I just shot, my dick was hard and I was almost hyperventilating I was so excited.

I knew my way around a dick and wanted to give Matt an amazing BJ his first time out. At his age, it shouldn't have surprised me that it took no more than a dozen mouth strokes to feel that teen tool stiffen and pulse in my mouth before firing a heavy wad of jock seed. I even choked a little bit on it. This was bigger than one of Max's heavy loads, even. Matt was really worked up.

The smile he had on his face made it all worth it. "That was amazing, Dad," he sighed.

I tucked my spent but still mostly firm dick back into my trousers. "We should be getting home," I said. Maybe too bluntly. I was clearly feeling a major pang of guilt.

Matt pulled up his shorts and refastened his seat belt. Checking the mirror, he started the car and put it in drive.

It was wild to see my jock son casually spreading his legs in the driver's seat and with a major look of contentment on his face. "That was a million times better than I dreamed," he said.

"Sex gets better," I told him.

His eyes lit up. "For real? I can't imagine."

"Well, you won't have the sheer anticipation of the first time, or that intense emotional impact," I said, blushing to think I'd been Matty's first. "But the sex itself gets a lot better."

"I can't wait," Matt grinned.

"Listen, Matt," I objected. "I don't think we can...."

"It's just between us, Dad," he assured me. "Look, I'm not gonna hound you or anything. But that was the most amazing thing ever. I'm glad you were the one to show that to me."

"Well, we'll see," I said, and I could see Matt's lip curl up into a smirk. At base he was a cocky jock, just like his teammates. Only instead of head from a cheerleader, it was from his father.

It was the look of a young man fairly confident he was going to be getting his way.

#drakestories

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123pixieaod · 8 months

Text

'This Church is a Quiet Place'

A thousand thanks to Lily, for cheerleading and proofreading this💖 TW at the bottom 🩷🩵🤍

The church is quiet. In Max's memory, there were always sounds. Footsteps and bells and whispers, a cacophony of worship compounded in one place.

Maybe the church her mother brought her to is different from this church. Maybe her memories as a child were simply elaborated on, made big and bright and alive by the passing of time.

This church is not softened by the sounds of the living. This church is silent, still. A breath held, a heartbeat not yet formed.

Light shines through the stained glass windows, and Max walks through the tinted air. Green, blue, red, orange.

The colours are as vibrant of God's love for you, her mother used to whisper, an arm wrapped tight around her slim shoulders.

God the Father, she'd say. In the name of the Father and the Son.

Promise me you'll keep your faith Max, she also said, voice a soft murmur as they sat side by side in the pews. Max nodded. It's important to pray. God listens to our prayers Max, he's our Father.

And Max had tried, to begin with. The first weekend, she asked Jos if they could visit a local church to light a candle. Jos' nose wrinkled.

What for?

Max felt her mother's promise whisper away. She shook her head.

I don't know.

Her dad gave her a look, lips thin. Your mother's after making you too soft. You're an adult now, not some child in need of fairytales.

Max nodded. She never asked again.

Her mother knew. She must've figured it out, that she stopped asking her opinion on the weekly sermon, stopped answering her questions on her faith.

It seems strange, to think she once believed in it all. She walks softly up the aisle, her footsteps a gentle cadence reverberating through the church. There's an elderly woman at the front, head bowed as her fingers worry a Rosary. A man behind, reading the Bible. And Max. The imposter.

She doesn't have the faith anymore. It disappeared somewhere on the never- ending motorways, the Sundays spent racing instead of praying, nights spent reciting strategies in the darkness instead of the blessings her mother used to whisper. Her fingertips grew blackened, dipped in oil rather than blessed water.

Max thinks faith is like youth. Once it's gone, it's impossible to get it back.

Daniel still believes. He pretends not to, but Max knows he does. She found a rosary once in the back of his bedside drawers. The beads worn smooth, colour long flaked away. She had sat and ran her fingers over the string of knots and wooden pills, imagining the countless times he must've done the same. In secret, hidden away. Counting each prayer off, voice nothing more than a whisper.

Daniel crosses himself before each race. Daniel bows his head whenever a funeral parade passes on the streets. Daniel has a tiny, inked cross on his ribs. Max found it, nestled amongst the other loud and brilliant decorations he's designed into his skin. She traced it, and Daniel had started as if Max had slapped him.

This is new, Max had said. He'd laughed, roughly tugging his shirt on.

No Max, it's always been there. You just haven't been paying attention. He tossed a smile at Max, easy and in love.

She finds the candles nestled in the corner, just beneath the altar. Three rows of darkened tealights, only one offering a feeble, dying flame.

'Donations only!!!' is scribbled over a money box, and Max digs in her pockets, fishing out all her loose change.

She feels wrong being here. A fake. Like a woman who's been caught having an affair, and is now returning, head bowed and feet dragging. Kneeling, fingers clasped, repenting.

Has she no shame? Her mother would ask. The summer before the divorce, her mother's side warm against Max's as they watched TV together. These women, they always take men like that back, she tutted, reaching for the popcorn Max was holding. You won't be like that, will you Max? You'll be better than us all. You'll stand your ground if someone wrongs you.

She shook her head. I won't ever get married, she replied. It's lame.

Her mother huffed a laugh, even though Max hadn't been joking. Just wait till you fall in love Maxy, then -

I won't ever fall in love either, Max declared, watching the woman on screen embrace the man. She wrinkled her nose. She had seen what love did; she wanted no part of it. Max's mother simply laughed again, running her fingers lightly through her tawny locks.

She should phone her, it's been nearly a month since they last spoke. Sophie is always happy to hear from her, but she's preoccupied now with other things. Managing her new boyfriend's fledgling company, helping Victoria with the kids. Her life is full and Max is not really a part of it anymore. Hasn't been for decades, since she turned twelve and barely lived in the same time zone as her, let alone the same house.

Daniel's close with his parents. He calls them every second day, time zones carefully navigated around. Up early, doing yoga on the terrace as he chats to his dad about the latest news. Evening, Max already in bed, listening to him laugh softly through the walls as his mother tells him the local gossip.

What can you even have to talk about? Surely you've spoken about every possible conversation point at this stage, Max said, only half in jest. Daniel laughed, wrinkles creasing around his eyes in a way she knows he hates but she loves.

They're my parents Maxy, he replied with ease, as if that's the only answer she needs.

He's over there now. With Grace and Joe and Michelle. Max feels distant from him, from the life he must be living. On the ranch, dust gathered in the creases of his skin as he worked under the sun. Going out with childhood friends to pubs where everyone speaks how he does. His nephew and niece, adoring their overseas uncle, returned.

She lights the first candle. The flame is strong, and she feels stupid for taking such stock in the image, as if the strength of the flame is akin to the sureness of her future.

She doesn't know how to do this. Whisper? In her head? Address it all to God, like a formal letter?

She suddenly feels very young. Her mother beside her, handing her the childhood book of Bible verses she received for Christmas. Pray, Maxy, she murmured, bowing her head.

Max looks up. The light is tinted blue and white, shining in through a maritime scene created in the windows. There's a framed painting hung on the wall. The Virgin Mary with Baby Jesus. A pale woman with dark hair. Arms wrapped around a bundle of dark blankets. A baby, pale and young and smiling, looking out at the viewer. Looking at Max.

She closes her eyes and prays.

Maybe some people aren't meant to be parents Maxy, Daniel had said after the twelfth negative test. 12. A year of trying and failing. Max isn't used to failing at anything; she doesn't know how to do it.

What? She twisted on the bed, staring at him. He just continued staring at the ceiling.

Maybe some people aren't meant to be parents, he finally repeated, tone soft.

She scoffed, turning back around. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and the stinging somehow grew, like when she was a kid and she had accidentally gotten some chemicals on her hands. Corrosive. Her dad had grabbed her, dragging her to the garage's sink and scrubbed at her red hands until the burning finally abated.

She sat up and then stood quickly. Sports bra, an old Nike shirt and her leggings. Burning, burning, burning.

Max, Daniel sat up too. Wait.

I'm going for a run, she told him without looking at him.

Maxy, he tried again. I just mean maybe we should -

She slammed the bedroom door on her way out. She thought he might follow her, but he didn't, and she tugged her shoes on roughly. The burn in her chest was spreading. It's corrosive, her father had told her. She had never learned that word before, and he had had to explain the meaning as he wrapped her palms with gauze.

Outside the church, the sun is beginning to weaken. Shadows length in the carpark, and Max stands against the church's wall, taking out her phone.

She asked him to leave. She needed a break, time to figure herself out. She thought he would fight her on it, and was irrationally hurt when he had just nodded, lips thin and brow pinched.

Alright, he said. If that's what you want.

She didn't want any of it. She didn't want a body seemingly incapable of life, didn't want the 12 pregnancy tests lined neatly in her memory, didn't want the empty study room next to their own bedroom that they both refused to ever address.

"Maxy," he picks up the first ring. He sounds happy. She doesn't know if it's because it's her he's speaking to, or if he's always happy, now he's home again.

"Hey," she says. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he says, and she can tell he's meaning it. "How are - are you outside?"

She looks at the birds above in the trees, singing sweetly. Their songs are getting picked up, listened to halfway across the world. "Yes," she says softly.

"Going for a walk?" He asks, sounding like he's walking somewhere too. She can hear his slightly laboured breathing, the vague crunch of his footsteps on the dried grass.

"I went to a church, " she tells him.

"A church, " he repeats, as if she's named some alien planet. "You went to mass?" Disbelief clear.

They're not broken up. She doesn't really know what they are now. Other than in love, of course, but that was never in question. She had asked him to leave and he had left. They still text every day, call a few times each week. She doesn't know what he told his family, and she's too scared to ask him.

"No, not mass. Church. As in, I went inside a church."

"Why, a horde of vampires were chasing you?" He asks. She can hear the smile in his voice. Longing fills her chest, the ache almost visceral.

"No, this is Monaco, not Transylvania. You are the one out of the two of us who needs to be worried about that," she tells him.

"It's too hot Maxy, all potentially murderous vampires would be burnt to dust before they'd get close to tasting this sweet, sweet blood. You know, today it was almost 40 degrees? Climate change is fucking us all up, but at least it means i can take a few hours off from the ranch because it's too dangerous to work outside in this heat."

Max hums softly. There's a nest in one of the branches - that's why the two birds were singing so loudly.

"You are having a good time then?" She asks.

"Yeah. It's always good to be back here." he pauses then, as if to weigh up his words. "I'm looking forward to being home, though."

She frowns. One of the birds slips into the brown mess of twigs, and sheep's wool balanced on the branch while the other is left outside; a guardian. "Why, are you not at the ranch right now? Where are you then?"

"What? I mean," he interrupts himself with a quiet laugh. "Maxy. I meant home. Home home."

"Home home," she repeats dubiously.

"With you," he adds, voice suddenly soft and vulnerable.

She looks away from the birds. She swallows. He's quiet, waiting for her to speak. The air is cooling down, dusk creeping closer.

"I miss talking with you," she finally says.

"We still talk. We talk nearly everyday. We're talking right now " he says softly, and she supposes she deserves this, him making her say it aloud.

"I miss you," she amends. "I miss... I miss you a lot Daniel."

He laughs. Not because it's funny, but because his happiness needs an outlet, needs to be vocalised and released in some form. Laugh or cry, Maxy, he used to tell her. Gotta be one of them.

"I miss you too," he says.

"You should come home," she tells him.

"I should."

"Home home."

"Yeah, home home."

They're quiet for a bit. She looks up, her gaze caught by a flutter of movement. One of the birds darts away, the other staying by the nest. She wonders if she concentrated very hard, would she be able to hear the chirping.

"I'm sorry," Daniel blurts out. Max frowns.

"For what?"

"I..." He pauses. He's definitely walking somewhere, she can hear his footfall over the terrain.

"I was wrong," he finally says. "About us... About... About what I said. About how some people aren't meant to be parents. I was thinking and... I mean, sure I wasn't wrong about that because some people definitely shouldn't have kids, but us, me and you, we should, I mean if you still want to, because we're, we would... we would be good, or I don't know, maybe we just are good, like good people and good partners and I shouldn't have said what I said, because it's not true, we'd be the best and coolest parents and -"

"Daniel," she interrupts him. He instantly goes quiet.

"I think so too," she says. He laughs, relieved and happy and excited, all melded into one.

"Because I've been doing some research," he begins again, words rushing into each other in their hurry to be spoken. "And there's a clinic we could try, or maybe -"

Max nods, letting Daniel's chatter wash over her like water, pure and clear and blessed. The lone bird sits above, and continues to sing.

(((TW: infertility)))

#its actually my birthday today #and i have covid lol #so please enjoy this double upload #girl!max forever🩷#will i ever rid my writing of religious imagery??? never #daniel walking because he's on his own little journey of realisation too :(((#his acceptance being the Holy Water she replaced for the oil of races as a child #therefore her inner child being healed by Daniel’s love and the knowledge she will be a better parent then her parents were to her #the lone bird singing signifying her and Daniel's future baby #all pale and round and chubby with dark curls and blue eyes :)))#my fic

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ragaatz · 3 months

Text

Graves is such a fun piece of shit to think about. Just his fucking thoroughly and insurmountably American sense of infallibility crossbred into a notion of immortality that is purpose built into white straight American men—he can’t die or be sick or become prey, that shit happens to other people.

Like this dude has the stench of legacy on him. Could’ve been an officer, but, nah, has something to prove. Feels like a perpetual second place finishes with a grudge. Maybe had an older brother he was always only just trailing, but could never meet neck and neck, let alone surpass. Dad probably kept the oldest on his hip, a big fucking iron to fire at Phillip. Bet Phillip had to fight for every scrap of attention that man ever showed him, and still Dad only called for the oldest on his deathbed, reaching out to the oldest while life support could not save his dying body.

Did it matter that the oldest was dead, and that death is what put the old man in the ground? Did it matter that he reached for the oldest, but he found Phillip instead? Did it matter that at the very last breath, Dad—the Major, the Man, the Master of the Fucking Universe—couldn’t tell the godDAMNED DIFFERENCE between the two of them?

And, haha, what the fuck would that matter anyway? C’mon now. Phillip always knew the bitter old fuck put his money on the wrong horse. And, besides that, he was dumb. Stupid as a motherfucker, even, for putting all of his eggs in one basket. They all splattered when the basket wrapped itself around a tree doing 90 on those back roads. Got dark at night around Fort Hood, where the oldest was stationed, where the oldest started drinking and stopped talking after something bad happened.

The baby of the family ran off long before that, though, like a fuckin’ traitor. Of course, he’s a middle child, and of course he’s the only one that stuck around. Someone had to, for Chrissake. The oldest was too busy playing daddy’s golden goose, and the fuckin’ baby ran away to Smith College, dyed her hair purple, started fuckin’ women, and stopped shaving her fucking armpits. SOMEONE had to fucking STAY.

Phillip was the right choice for it.

I mean, c’mon, haha.

He was the only choice.

We all know that.

I mean, he’s a good country boy. A real red-blooded American male. And what good ol’ boy working stick around to make sure his mom was all set and taken care of? After all, she’s lost so much. A good woman like that shouldn’t have to go through so much grieving in one life. And any southern son worth his salt would say they love their mama.

And Phillip does. He loves his mom. Does the whole shebang. When he made made it through Ranger school, he bought her yellow roses. When he left the Rangers to start Shadow Company, with his dad’s dear old friend General Shepherd playing mentor and high roller, he bought her a house. When Shadow Company started rolling in that fuckin’ mad money, he bought her a goddamned Yorkie that pisses on EVERYTHING in the GODDAMNED FUCKING HOUSE.

But that’s what you do for mom. Tiffany silver on Mother’s Day, a Ford Expedition on her birthday. What’s the point of having credit cards if they aren’t constantly maxed the fuck out and bleeding your credit score down to nothing like a pig with a slit throat?

Haha, I mean, c’mon.

He loves his mom. Even if she can be a nagging bitch a lot of the time, and the most demanding, selfish, ungrateful, cold-ass woman he’s ever met in his life. And she just looks at him in a weird way that makes him want to snap her wrist, and he could do it, and she probably doesn’t even know he can. Doesn’t even know how close he’s come to executing it.

But, you know. That’s how moms are. Just women in general. They tend to get their panties in a twist and shutdown. It’s what his mom did at his wedding. It’s what his wife did right before the divorce. But, wow, helluva ceremony. His girl was a smoke show, a real fuckin’ rodeo queen. But a guy makes one mistake and fucks a little slip of a thing while he was overseas for months on end, and that’s not forgivable. Would’ve never even come up, if the stupid bitch didn’t show up on his goddamned doorstep wanting to surprise him.

#draft

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phantomenby · 2 years

Text

Who framed Miss Emerson?

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I have a request for the lost boys pol please. I was rewatching who framed roger rabbit, and Jessica rabbits iconic scene popped up and all I could think about was what if the lost boys met reader that way. like reader is michaels sister and he had to pick her up from her performance so they just decide to watch. Thank you.

Loud music thrummed around the club, making the walls shake and disorientating the occupants even more than the substances they were abusing had.

On a small stage at the front was a rather fabulous bank, full of scantily dressed figures, adorned in black clothing and golden jewelry.

In the middle stood a woman, wearing a dress made entirely of gold and bronze thread, with long lines of squeins draped off of it that shone in the blinding light above. From afar it was like watching a star. Miss Emerson, she was know as, someone who had only been in town a year but had become quite popular with the locals who crossed the door of The Snake Pit.

Her hair was long and soft, straightened out of it natural curls and now draped down in a gentle wave. In the soft glow of the lights shining down above it looked like a river made from chocolate. But it was her smile that drew people in, always adorned with a lustrous lipstick and drawn tight into a seductive grin.

She was a siren in an ocean of fools.

You knew you were attractive, but the constant passage of people coming to see you affirmed your ego.

It had been almost a year since you had started working here, having decided to take a break from beginning college when your parent's divorce was finalised and trying to make enough money to actually be able to afford clothes let alone a three-year course and biodiversity studies.

When you had applied for a job as a bartender the last thing you had expected was to become a performer, even bartending was a stretch for your once introverted self. But Santa Carla had brought something in all of you Emersons when you moved from Phoenix to the sunny oceanside town.

For your younger brother Sam, he had become quite nerdish, still prancing around like a peacock in his extravagant fashion while befriending the local comic book geeks.

The Frogs.

They were odd but supposedly harmless, your mother doted on them once she found out how neglectful their own parents were, and in some sense, they were akin to younger brothers to you and Michael.

Michael. He was a bit different.

For the first two months, he had been such a grumpy bastard, even going so far as to upset your mother once or twice a week, which was when you all put your foot down and staged a much-needed intervention into his behavior.

Turns out he was just struggling with the move, which was understandable. And the friends he had met were kind of hazing him which was, less understandable.

But soon enough they toned it down, though at the same time moms new boyfriend Max vanished and was never heard from again.

Which was great because he was really fucking creepy.

Finally finishing your set you bowed slowly at the waist, looking up and fluttering your lashes teasingly as a sweet smile dawned on your face. The sound of cheering and clapping grew, only fading as you trotted off the stage with a bouquet of white roses in your arms.

It was a relief when you finally sat down, feet finally free from your dark velvet stilettos they would never truly get used to.

"Well," you slipped them off, curling your toes and groaning as you felt your ankles click, "two-twenty-nine that's a good night."

Sometimes people would tip you while you were still on stage, but you were always guaranteed around a hundred each night.

The summer was making the crowds larger and in the flowers and notes of misplaced affection you received was often a couple of bills that the club owner, a rockin' old lady called Cheri, would let you keep almost all of.

"Knock knock," you turned to meet the eyes of your brother, who was slipping through the door and coming to throw his arms over your shoulder, hugging you tight, "you sleepy bubs?"

You nodded, leaning back into your elder brother's embrace, watching as he helped you gather your things and offered you the leather jacket you always wore.

It was a Saturday, and tomorrow you would have the day off, so you didn't bother changing out of your dress knowing it would be cleaned and pressed by the time your next shift came round.

"You have a good night Mikey?" Your arm was around his waist, your head pressing into his shoulder as he walked you out the back, keeping you close in your sleepy state.

He nodded, "you could say that."

Michael had an ok night, he had spent it with Star, of course.

But her "brothers", the four idiots who never had enough to do, had soon enough tracked the two of them down and forced them to hang out with them under the guise of Laddie missing his big sister despite the fact that Laddie now lived at the Emerson house.

When he had tried slipping away to pick you up they had pestered him, wondering what kind of delicious secrets he was keeping from them, when usually his mind was an open book to their abilities.

Little did he know the four delinquents had followed him as he picked up his mother's station wagon, all the way home and back to the end of the boardwalk, where he had gone into a rather scandalous club known for its fanciful events and gorgeous acts.

They had sparsely been since the forties when the owner realised his acts would last half as long when pretty boys took them out for the evening. But that old fart had died quite some time ago.

Watching from above they stared down at you hungrily, chests purring with an unknown emotion as they memorised your scent and every feature.

The four shared a look, eyes glowing as they leaped into the night. This would be one of their best games yet.

"Come onnnn-"

"No Sam."

"But you hardly go, and there's gonna be some cool clothing stalls, you know how much you said you wanted to upgrade your wardrobe."

"You did say that honey," you sent your mother an exasperated look from where you sat atop the kitchen counter, watching her fuss with some meat grandpa had brought home from hunting, "and you hardly go out beside work, all that money doesn't need to go to school, my love."

Lucy's warm hands met your cheeks, gentle blue hues meeting your own in a loving gaze, "you gotta have fun little dove, you're still young."

Sam's own eyes burned into the side of your head, they were both right of course, you had wanted to buy some new outfits since you had arrived in Santa Carla. But you had become so worried about money during the divorce that the idea of spending things on what you wanted, rather than what you needed, was far from your mind.

And you did miss going out. Phoenix was so much different than your time here, you never missed the opportunity to spend an evening out on the town with your close friends, something you missed dearly.

"Fine."

They both cheered, your mother kissing your nose and Sam yanking you off and spinning you, before dragging you up the stairs so he could help you find something to wear.

"What about this?" You held up a flower-patterned shirt to Sam, watching as he inspected it before nodding, then showing you his own find that you chewed your lip at.

Crunchy velvet was rather distasteful, and the texture was awful, "don't you hate how that stuff feels on your skin?"

Sam looked at it, before sighing and putting it back, "there's almost nothing good, Marko hyped this up so much."

Marko

You had heard that name before, along with a few others. For some reason Michael was less than eager to let you meet his friends, even his girlfriend Star was off-limits for the time being. Which sucked because he described her as being fun and dreamy, honestly it felt like he was trying to prove something to you most of the time.

Like she was good enough.

But you couldn't care less, as long as she wasn't some awful wench like the girls he used to hand around with back in Phoenix.

"It's only the first day Sam, I'm sure there will be more over the next week," you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, squeezing comfortably and letting him lean into your touch, "besides I've barely seen any of the boardwalk, you gotta give me a tour little man!"

He huffed at the nickname, but chose not to whine about it too long.

"Fine, I know just the place," his hand wrapped around yours, pulling you away from the stalls and towards the more structured shops, ones that were actual buildings rather than little tables shrouded in cloth.

When he finally stopped you looked around, taking in the shop you recalled him obsessing over. The Frog comic book shop, painted a soft blue and full of laughing youngens.

"This where your friends live huh?"

Your brother grinned, nodding and walking ahead as you fingered through the bins of dollar comics by the front, laughing at the dumb titles and ridiculous drawings of big-breasted superheroines with outfits smaller than your own bathing suit.

"Are kids really reading this trash these days?-"

"Trash?!" You froze as a gravelly voice exclaimed beside you, turning to meet the eyes of a boy dressed like Rambo.

Sam sent you a look behind the boy, warning you not to embarrass him, but it was really hard trying not to laugh at Edgar's fit.

"Oh hi Eddie-"

"It's Mr Frog to you, civilian," you gaped at him, scoffing at his cheek, "and I'll have you know we're the best comic book store in Santa Carla."

You smiled sweetly, pinching his cheek, "oh sweetie, you're the only comic book store in Santa Carla."

He batted your hand away, growling like an irritated puppy.

Your brother sent you a deadpan stare, to which you blew a kiss.

"I'm gonna head off Sam, go look around somewhere else, m'kay?"

He nodded, dismissing you to hand out with his two friends, Alan being the only one to say by to you as you walked outside.

It was busy, as expected, but you could see some cool stalls just across from you.

You began walking ahead, pushing through the tourists with great difficulty. You had almost reached the other side when a large figure slammed into you, throwing you to the ground with little care and running off towards the rides.

"What the hell-"

A hand was placed in front of you, covered in thick rings, you accepted, eager to get off the gross wooden floor.

"You okay beautiful?"

You flushed at the smooth voice addressing you, shifting away from it slightly to look up at where it was coming from.

He was tall, taller than you, and surrounded with wild blonde hair that had been teased two inches above his hairline.

"Y-yeah, sorry I'm not usually this clumsy," your hands ached and you looked down at where they were scuffed, pouting at the small drops of blood you could see seeping from the scratches on your palms, "shit-"

"You hurt?" cold hands encased your own, pulling on your wrists gently.

Nodding you watched as his thumbs smoothed over your cuts, shushing you softly when you hissed and pulled away.

"Come on, I've got something to clean you up."

He began pulling you towards the exit, and your mind didn't think to stop before letting a stranger pull you away.

When he stopped walking the two of you had reached a row of bikes, three other boys watching you walk towards them with odd looks in their eyes.

"Whatcha got there Paulie," a voice purred at you, coming from a curly-haired blonde, who was leaning towards you as Paul brought you to, "you lost sugar?"

Christ. These men would be the death of you.

You turned to meet his eye, preparing to respond before you saw a glimpse of curly brown hair you were all too familiar with.

"Wait, Michael?"

Your brother spun round, eyes wide and mouth open, he had been facing a girl who you thought must be Star.

She spoke before your brother could.

"Oh my god!" faster than you could blink she was rushing around the bikes to embrace you, arms squeezing your waist and she pulled you close.

"Is this the sister you've been hiding from us Michael, hmm?" the next one to speak was who you realised was David, recognizing his spiky white hair and pale eyes burning into you, "you didn't say she was so pretty."

Your brother growled, moving to stand and sending David a warning look.

"I didn't say much for a reason David."

Star had pulled away from you now, watching your brother and his friend glare at each other, "sheesh guys what a way to make a first impression."

They finally broke their stare down, both of their eyes softening as they took in your form.

Michael walked towards you and checked you over, he could smell the blood coming from your hands, not that you knew that.

"You okay?" he brought you closer to him, pulling you away from the crowd of vampires surrounding you, lifting your hands to inspect them, "who-"

"Nobody," you cut him off before he could get too riled up, "just a bit clumsy, you know me."

He frowned but didn't push, pulling you into a side hug and turning you a little to face his friends.

"Well sis, these are my friends, my friends this is my-"

"Sister, we know," David cut him off, walking towards you and holding out a gloved hand, "I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other now, Mikey can't keep you from us anymore."

A week later and you were performing again, a tight red dress dragging down your body and flaring out at the bottom.

It was new, a gift from an admirer, and worth everything to you.

From the embroidered hem to the way it slipped off your shoulders, showing off your soft skin and emphasizing your dark hair.

The crowd was packed and people cheered after every song, sending you tips and flowers. One man even sent you a bottle of wine.

But it was the four men in the back you were most excited about. Star and Michael had come to the club for a date night a few days ago, but now David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul were sitting in one of the booths.

Their eyes were shining, and you could just catch glimpses of them throughout the night.

When your set ended you took a deep bow, making eye contact with them as you rose back up.

And as you returned to your dressing room you squealed in delight at the large bouquet of pink and peach toned flowers on your dresser, a cluster of bills pinned behind a note.

"You like them, princess?"

Cold hands encased your waist as a figure came up behind you, catching you off guard as another hand reached for your face, curling around your jaw.

#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys imagines #marko the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #poly lost boys x reader #marko tlb #david tlb #dwayne tlb #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys david

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queenshelby · 2 years

Text

Oppenheimer (Part 34)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Pregnancy

Words: 1,134

CILLIAN’S POV

On the evening he stormed off, Cillian immediately made his way to the nearest pub before calling his friend Enda who didn’t arrive at the Donoghue Tavern until Cillian was well and truly drunk.

When Enda walked through the door of the small and, thankfully, empty pub he found Cillian nursing his beer.

He knew that he had only been there for a short bit, but his mind was clearly working overtime and so was his liver. Something was wrong and that is why he was there, on his own, filling himself up on Guinness.

Intrusive voices raged in his head and more and more unreasonable thoughts were building up to near uncontrollable levels.

The bartender kept feeding him drinks, and he drank them quickly.

“Jesus Christ Cills, how many pints of Guinness did you have?” Enda asked somewhat concerned as he sat down next to his friend. His eyes were glassy and he sighed deeply.

“Not enough” Cillian responded before ordering another round but Enda was quick to cut him off.

“No more for you mate. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked and Cillian sighed again before his eyes teared up.

“Y/N is pregnant” Cillian told his friend whose chin dropped pretty much instantly.

“And, going by your reaction, the pregnancy wasn’t planned I assume…” Enda observed after having digested the news.

“Of course it wasn’t planned” Cillian hissed before breaking down emotionally. “I can’t go through this again Enda. Fuck. I just can’t” he told him and Enda rested a hand on Cillian’s shoulder.

“Do you love her?” Enda asked carefully.

“Of course I fucking love her. I was going to propose to her in France. But, this changes everything” Cillian pointed out but Enda wouldn’t accept this kind of excuse from him.

“It changes nothing mate. You need to get over what happened with your ex. She was a fucking lunatic and what she did has nothing to do with Y/N. If you love her, marry her. If you don’t love her, leave her but be there for her and your child. It is that simple” Enda pointed out but Cillian was tearing up inside, reliving the nightmares he had been put through by his sons’ mother. The constant lies, the heartache and the fact that their lives revolved around their children and one pregnancy lie after another.

He couldn’t deal with it nor could he address what was happening to you. It was overwhelming and he didn’t know what he to do. He needed to think, hard and fast and there was no better place to do that than Enda’s house.

Enda had always been there for him. He was the voice of reason for Cillian, especially when he filed for divorce from his ex-wife. He knew what happened between them and he knew that his friend was still hurt by it. It was something he needed to let go and he had to do so pretty fast now that you were pregnant.

YOUR POV

Just as you were packing your clothes on the following day after Cillian hadn’t come home for the night and after you had told Max that you were leaving, Max tried to convince you to stay. He didn’t want you to break up with his father, nor did he want you to return to LA and give up your life in London.

‘This is my mother’s fault’ Max blurted out, not thinking straight and, just as he said that, you looked up at him from where you were sitting.

‘What?’ you asked somewhat confused.

‘That’s why dad reacted the way he did, I think’ Max said and you realised that his mind was clearly working way too hard right now.

‘Max, I don’t know what this is about but I don’t think that your mother has anything to do with your dad storming out on me’ you pointed out, thinking that he was being sweet but also unreasonable.

‘Actually, she does. She did something terrible to him’ Max began to stammer and your eyes widened.

You couldn’t help but query what he was saying but Max became rather reluctant to talk about it now. He had second thoughts.

‘I wasn’t meant to know about it but I read the court documents for their settlement and the custody arrangements for Charlie. If I tell you, you cannot tell Charlie’ Max hesitated.

‘Max, these documents would have been sealed and for your father’s eyes only. There is a reason he didn’t involve you guys in the proceedings’ you pointed out, even though you didn’t know what the documents were saying. You never involved yourself in Cillian’s business with his ex.

‘Did you never wonder why mum allowed Charlie to live with dad?’ Max asked you while sitting down next to you.

‘She had a change of heart?’ you guessed.

‘No, the court made her give up custody’ Max began before telling you what she did.

According to Max, his mother fell pregnant again after she had Charlie. He was about seven years old at the time and both of his parents worked hard to keep their marriage floating along for the sake of their children. They were constantly fighting but, with the pregnancy, things had changed again for the better. It was leverage for his mother and she used that leverage well because Cillian adored his children over everything. After all, he had married her after a non-serious on and off relationship for two years when he found out that she was pregnant with Max and, with that, she knew that, a third child would make him stay with her. It was going to strengthen the relationship they had.

Unfortunately though, she lost the baby and things slowly returned how they were, namely miserable. This was, at least, until she was pregnant again even though they both agreed not to have children.

This time, however, the pregnancy wasn’t real, nor was the miscarriage that followed. She faked it all, simply to make Cillian stay and then, she did it again for a second time which is when, finally, Cillian found out.

Hearing Max tell you these stories made you feel ill, but they didn’t make you change your mind.

“I am terribly sorry that this happened but I am really hurt Max. Your father really hurt me with what he said to me and I am not going to change my mind” you said with a heavy heart before packing up the last of your things.

“Y/N, please! Give him one last chance to make this right. I know he loves you and he will be a good father” Max said but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive Cillian.

At the very least, you needed to hear it from him. He needed to give you a reason to stay and to forgive you. It was your time to leave now and you were determined to do it.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

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misslavenderlady · 2 years

Text

Lucy the Ex-Hippie - Ch. 5: 1987

Summary: Twenty years have gone by, and old friends have crossed paths once again. What will happen when David gets the chance to reconnect with the friend he thought he lost so long ago?

This is where the original plot of the movie takes place, so everything that happens during this is part of the canon! I also included the deleted scene where the boys are circling Lucy. It was actually one of the things that inspired this story!

WARNINGS: Sad ending, Max being a creep

Previous Chapter

Santa Carla, 1987

So much for a happy life together. Things had started off so well for Lucy and Lance at the beginning of their marriage. Their journey to Phoenix was exciting, and they worked together to create the home they both wanted. He worked hard at his job and she was a happy housewife. It worked so well for the two of them.

About a year and a half after their wedding Lucy gave birth to their first son, and she couldn’t have been happier to be a mother. True to her wish, she named him Michael after her departed brother. He was absolutely perfect to her, and she put so much love and care into raising him.

She wished she could have said the same for Lance.

Despite how deep they had once been in the hippie scene, Lance completely changed once he found his calling in the office environment. He was so caught up in the work and the atmosphere and the money that he became more devoted to it than to his family. Sure, he put food in their fridge and kept their bills paid, but whenever Michael wanted his attention, Lance only seemed to push him away in favor of the work he did.

It only got worse when Sam came into the picture a few years later. Lucy fell in love all over again, so happy to give Michael a little brother. Seeing the two of them grow up together gave her happiness she never knew she needed. But while motherhood was getting better, marriage was getting worse.

Lance kept the promise he made all those years ago to control his temper and not lash out at Lucy in rather tense moments. However, that anger and frustration transformed from hot-headedness to cold shoulders. If they had fights, he’d shut down and throw himself into his work. He even spent a few nights sleeping on the couch of his office just so he wouldn’t have to deal with the needs of his sons.

At some point, Lucy just stopped trying to make it work. She no longer felt warmth or joy being with him. He was a roommate, not a lover. She desperately tried to be the parent Michael and Sam needed while their father continued to choose his job over them. Whenever he got home all she felt was dread and exhaustion. Even cooking, the thing that she had a passion for, became bothersome. She would pour love and soul into meals, yet Lance barely acknowledged her presence.

By the time Michael was eighteen and Sam was fourteen she just couldn’t fight any longer. She hated feeling unappreciated, but she hated seeing her boys be denied their father’s love even more. Lucy served Lance divorce papers, telling him she’d rather raise her boys alone than fight in a custody battle that he didn’t even care about. She hated Lance for not even pretending to put up a fight for the right to see his children.

Then again, it only made it easier to move forward with her decision.

Lucy didn’t have much to her name, but she managed to scrape enough money to help move Michael and Sam from Phoenix back to her hometown of Santa Carla. Her father was more than happy to have her back home and away from the man he never really liked in the first place. She figured he was also feeling a bit lonely since her mother died a few years prior. This could not only be an opportunity for a fresh start for the boys but also be a good bonding experience for her and her father.

Everyone got settled into their new home fairly quickly. After a few long days of driving and quite a bit of unpacking, she was ready to relax for the night. One of the things that often cheered her up when she was struggling with Lance was reading a good book with a cup of tea. It helped her escape from her troubles and get lost in an exciting story. She had a few boxes of books packed that would go onto the bookshelf the next day, but she figured she could grab a random one and read it before turning in for the night.

She skimmed through a few titles in the box she had opened up. There were quite a bit of romance novels, something she made into a collection as the result of her marriage losing the spark it once had. However, she found a different genre tucked away towards the bottom of the box. A horror novel she hadn’t seen in almost twenty years.

Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the cover, remembering this as the book she had read during a good chunk of the drive she and Lance had taken when they moved to Phoenix after their wedding. She wasn’t really a fan of scary stuff, but for some reason, she couldn’t put it down. The dramatic words of the Count drew her in, and she found herself finishing it before they even arrived.

Lucy quickly flipped through the pages, now yellowed from the two decades gone by. It was still in fairly good condition after all this time, but that wasn’t what intrigued her the most. When she got back to the first page after the cover, she found a note on the inside. One she had forgotten was even in there.

Lucy,

Have fun, enjoy life, and don’t be scared of vampires. They’re your friends.

- D

She remembered where she had gotten this book! It was a wedding gift just for her to enjoy as she started her new life with Lance.

Unfortunately, that was all she remembered about it. While Lucy still kept in touch with a few friends from college, many friendships had faded with the passage of time, and everyone’s lives were occupied with weddings, careers, moves, and babies. Sometimes you just lost touch with someone you once called a dear friend.

For the life of her, she couldn’t recall who “D” was. She didn’t even remember what it stood for. As hard as she tried to rack her brain for the answer, nothing came up. She had a few fuzzy memories of being with friends before her wedding, but with all the different factors messing with her recollection, she just couldn’t place a name or a face.

She felt guilty for not remembering “D”, but at the very least she could give the book another read as a way to show her appreciation. Whoever they were, she hoped they were doing well.

David had seen quite an interesting chain of events in the past twenty years. He and the other Lost Boys watched the people around them struggle with Vietnam, oil shortages, serial killers, The Cold War, the Aids Crisis, and so much more. While they were no strangers to tragedy and hardship in humanity, it still definitely had an impact on their home in Santa Carla.

The people got meaner, the streets dirtier and soon the town was nicknamed “The Murder Capital of the World”. While they certainly contributed to the high body count from their numerous hunts, there were plenty of kills committed by other hands.

The Lost Boys embraced this new world, fully leaning into how wild and violent it had gotten. They loved the 80s the most out of any decade they had lived through, finding pure joy in the loud music, punk clothing, and overall carefree feeling to it all. David and his boys loved the style they got into during this time. Their hair flowed in long mullets, their beautiful eyes were marked with dark makeup, and the leather they already loved was decorated with a variety of pins, patches, and trinkets.

It was truly an amazing time to be a vampire.

However, while David had changed over the years, it wasn’t entirely a good thing. He had always been a bit of a jerk, but as the world grew more violent and cruel, so did he. It didn’t help that after letting his first possible Lost Girl go he put up a wall between himself and humanity. They were either toys to play with or food for him and the others to feast on. None of them would ever be his friend.

It took the span of two decades before he finally opened his heart to a new member of their family. He and the others met Star when she was homeless and sleeping on the beach in the early spring of 1987. While the hippie culture had died down in favor of punk and rock, Star still fully embraced the older style. She was free-spirited, kind, and fun to be around.

Paul, Marko, and Dwayne all begged David to keep her. To give her a taste of his blood so that she could join them. It was a difficult decision to make, but he ultimately agreed to turn her. This time, he wouldn’t let any lingering humanity or guilt hold him back. He was all too happy when she consumed the tainted wine.

Things quickly soured when she realized what they had turned her into. It wasn’t easy getting Star to give in to her thirst. She fought so hard, threatening to leave because she didn’t want to take a life and finish her transformation. David didn’t take too kindly to that. He wouldn’t let the first person he let into the family after twenty years go and abandon his gang.

It was messed up of him, but when he spotted Laddie wandering alone on the boardwalk, he took the opportunity to use him as an incentive for Star to stay. Even the others couldn’t believe David would use a child to keep her from leaving. Still, they were happy she agreed to stay and even more excited to have an adorable little brother to hang out with. As far as David was concerned, he did what was best for his family.

Star would learn to love it in time.

The Lost Boys only came by Max’s video store for two reasons; to flirt with Maria, the cute cashier, and to get on Max’s nerves. Their sire didn’t like being seen with them in public, as their edgy appearance clashed with his dapper, put-together persona. For a man who wanted them to be like sons to him, the man certainly didn’t treat them like family.

While Star was with Laddie at a concert the boys decided to spend some time in the shop, just killing time before they picked the two up. They each filed inside, one by one with David leading them. Of course, Max was not happy to see them, and neither was his hellhound, Thorn. They didn’t care in the slightest, least of all David. It wasn’t like they were going to stay long anyway. At least, that was the plan.

David had just been browsing some shelves when a familiar voice caught his ear.

“Excuse me! I wonder if you could help us”

It wasn’t directed at him, but he still perked up at the sound of it. There was no mistaking it.

Red hair. Fair skin. A soft smile.

Lucy.

Twenty years had gone by, and that sweet voice still rang clear in his memories. David was frozen in his tracks as he watched from behind the opposite side of the counter. His boys hadn’t noticed her yet, but he certainly did. She was older now, her physical age matching Max’s more than David’s. Her long, flowing hair was now chopped short but still framed her face well. Her tight-fitted, bright wardrobe had been replaced with loose, flowing layers in soft colors.

David’s ears were buzzing loudly as he tried to comprehend what was happening. She was back. After all this time, she had come home to Santa Carla. It took all of his focus to pick up on what she was saying to his sire.

“This little boy is lost and we were wondering if his mother might be in here,” she explained to Max. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest that she was trying to help a stranger in need. Too bad she was going to the person that was least likely to do something out of kindness. Thankfully, a woman ran into the store, claiming the child.

The others still hadn’t noticed Lucy in the store. They were all fawning over Maria again, no doubt lovestruck by her pretty smile and cute laugh. On a normal night, David would let his boys have their fun. But he couldn’t have that right now. They needed to see this for themselves.

“Boys,” David said through their mental connection, his voice firm and serious. “Look who it is”

All three of his friends followed his gaze, their playful feelings fading away when they too realized who he was looking at. They all froze, stuck in disbelief that their honorary Lost Girl was back after all these years. Memories of smoking, dancing, and warm hugs were coming back to each of them as they tried to comprehend how much Lucy had “grown up”.

“Holy fucking shit, it’s Lucy!” Marko said first, biting back a smile.

“Little miss stranger herself! Twenty years and she’s still looking really cute,” Paul added.

“Yeah, and it looks like Max certainly likes her too,” Dwayne noted, a frown stuck on his face.

David hadn’t noticed it before, but sure enough, Max had taken quite an interest in her. As he and his boys walked closer, he looked at his creator with daggers in his eyes, daring the older man to try something with her. Max could put on his act of “friendly gentleman shop owner” all he wanted, but David knew who he truly was. He didn’t like how he stared at his old friend, offering her a treat to sweeten her up a bit more with false charms.

All the defensiveness he had for the girl he met in the 60s was flooding back. He remembered how much he didn’t like her husband back then, and he certainly didn’t like what Max was doing now.

“I told you not to come in here anymore,” Max said to David, his voice cold and sharp. That tone lingered as he spoke to the four boys in his head as well. “Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to this nice woman? You boys know better than to interrupt my work”

David glanced at Lucy and then back at his sire, realization hitting him. Max was smitten with her. The girl who almost became their pack member. What were the goddamn odds? He bit back a smirk, wanting nothing more than to laugh hysterically at this situation. Little did Max know that twenty years ago when David was complaining about how terrible he was, this woman had not only agreed with him but thought he deserved to be without a partner.

How ironic this whole predicament was turning out.

The boys each had their own reaction too. Dwayne hadn’t stopped glaring at Max, sending silent threats of what would happen if Lucy was hurt in any way. Marko was smiling at Lucy, just so happy to see her again. Paul was incredibly amused, both from seeing their old friend and how quickly Max was trying to claim her.

They all wanted to stay. To see if she remembered them in some way. However, their sire wouldn’t let that happen.

“All of you leave now. I will talk to you after I close up,” Max ordered.

All four of them knew better than to fight his orders. They each slipped out of the store exit one by one, silently looking back at Lucy one last time before getting to their bikes. David had left first, but he couldn’t help but overhear a piece of their conversation.

“Wild kids”

“Oh, they’re just young! We were that age too once!”

While they gunned their engines and sped off into the night, David couldn’t fight back the smug grin on his face.

You have no idea, Lucy.

“I can’t believe it! What the hell are the odds of us seeing her?” Dwayne exclaimed, balancing on top of the ledge by their bikes.

After running into Lucy at Max’s store, the Lost Boys had huddled up by a corner of the boardwalk where people often went to take a smoke break. When they were far out of reach from the store, they all were bursting from the various emotions they were going through.

“Yeah, no kidding! I almost didn’t recognize her! She’s changed so much,” Marko added. He hadn’t stopped chewing on his nail since they had seen her.

“I miss that pretty, long hair she used to have!” Paul said, somewhat pouty. “But she does still look great! Twenty years has been pretty good to her, hasn’t it?”

David was focused on the cigarette in his hand. He had been chain-smoking for the past several minutes, still trying to wrap his head around what had happened. The first few years after she left he had kept an eye out for her during holidays and summer months just in case she had decided to pay a visit to her hometown for a vacation. After several unsuccessful tries, he had given up, coming to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t see her again.

“Not entirely good,” Dwayne spoke up. “Didn’t you guys notice? She didn’t have the ring she got during her wedding ceremony”

It took every ounce of self-control that David had to stop himself from choking on the smoke of his cigarette. He had been so focused on Lucy herself that he hadn’t thought to check if she still had a ring on her finger after all this time.

“So that’s why she’s back. Things didn’t work out with that jerk after all,” he simply said. “All of the dedication she put into her relationship was for nothing. Can’t say I’m surprised. I tried to warn her and offer her an alternative”

The others looked at their leader with a bit of concern. David had grown so bitter over the past several years, guarding his heart so nobody could hurt him again. He would have sooner hurt the feelings of others before letting his pride be wounded. Even if they still remained loyal to their friend, they all had their concerns about David.

Before they could continue their conversation, Star came down the path and up to their parking spot with Laddie by her side. They would talk it over later. Right now all David wanted to do was get the two of them home, go out for a much-needed hunt and quickly get through the talk with Max later before calling it a night.

They all silenced themselves so neither Star nor Laddie would pick up on what they were talking about. David simply guided her onto the back of his bike while Dwayne helped Laddie onto his own. Paul and Marko got on their own rides, loudly gunning their engines in preparation to take off.

David glanced at Star, waiting for her to say something about Laddie or the concert they went to earlier. To his surprise, she wasn’t focused on him at all. Her gaze lingered on the boardwalk, and David couldn’t help but follow it.

A few feet away stood a boy around their age. A very handsome boy, at that. He was tall, had thick, brown curls for hair, and striking blue eyes. It was almost exactly like looking at the Jim Morrison mural the boys had back in their hideout. David didn’t blame her for staring. Something about that boy was drawing him in as well. A familiar feeling that made David curious about who he was.

As the boy stared at him and Star on the bike, David felt a smile spreading across his face. Amused and flattered by the attention. It was so painfully familiar, enjoying that kind of look. Especially with those blue eyes. It was like he’d seen that very shade before, but he just couldn’t figure out where.

It was the last thing going through David’s mind as he and the Lost Boys rode off down the boardwalk.

Fate wasn’t something David had believed in until tonight. Things like becoming a vampire and meeting his friends were just pure luck in his mind. He had a shitty life as a human, and things had just simply gone in his favor once he turned. That was all it was.

At least until now.

“You’re going to do what to her?”

“Just as I said, David. I’m going to make her my wife. She’ll be your mother!”

The boys were fighting for their lives not to burst out in laughter at the irony of this situation. Out of all the women in the world, it had to be their long-lost friend that Max finally chose to be his vampire bride. The ex-hippie who liked to smoke weed and party with strangers.

“We don’t need a mother. We’ve been fine on our own for decades without one,” David insisted.

The idea of Lucy of all people being their “mother” made his stomach churn. Forget the fact that it was awkward enough given their history, it was worse that Max was going to turn her after David made the decision that she wasn’t built for that kind of life. That would mean that the pain he went through of letting her go and living as a human was for nothing. It felt like a cruel joke.

“Do you even know anything about her?” David snapped at his sire. Normally he wouldn’t push his luck like this, but the protective feelings he had over Lucy were starting to resurface. Marko, Dwayne, and Paul took notice, carefully watching their leader so he wouldn’t say the wrong thing.

“I know she’s friendly, she’s lovely, and she cares about children,” Max said, unphased by David’s sour mood. “In fact, she has children of her own!”

Max pulled out a small picture from his jacket pocket, smiling at it before turning his attention back to the boys.

“Lucy showed me this when we were chatting earlier, and I managed to get this from her wallet before she left,” he explained.

You’re such a creep, Max, David thought to himself. His sire didn’t seem to have any issues with taking her stuff, especially something that included her kids.

“Take a look! This is Sam and Michael”

David would have felt his heart stop if it was still beating.

Michael.

“I always thought that was such a nice name for a boy,” Lucy had told him years ago.

She had gotten what she wanted. A family to love and cherish. Children that got to live and grow and enjoy the ups and downs of life. Suddenly things didn’t look so bad for the situation with her ex. Even if their relationship hadn’t worked out, the real reason he let her go had gone the way she wanted.

And when he got a better look at Michael himself, he truly realized fate might have been something at play in this whole situation.

It was him. The boy on the boardwalk. The one whose eyes looked so familiar. It was because they were something he got from Lucy.

It was all connecting together like one, giant puzzle.

David must have had one hell of a poker face because while he was losing his ever-loving mind on the inside, he remained calm and collected on the outside. Max was none the wiser, as he just had that stupid grin on his face.

“I need you to get these two to drink from the bottle. Once her boys are one of us, then Lucy will certainly join our family,” Max smiled, quite proud of his rather manipulative plan. He really had no shame or conscience after centuries of vampirism. It made David wonder if he’d be that way too if he lived that long.

Lucy would have been really disappointed in him. She had been so kind to him. To all of them. And now he was going to do Max’s dirty work in order to get her involved in their family of vampires. If she recognized them, she was going to be even more hurt.

But on the other hand, this could be their second chance. The boys had been so happy having Lucy as a friend. She brought out the best in them when they were together. All smiles and joy, leaving behind the darker parts of their personalities. She had her heart in the right place, and maybe Max was onto something about her being with them.

David agreed to Max’s orders, but with one condition that he withheld. If he truly was going to do this, he had to test something first.

It was the next night, and David had his plan ready. Or rather, both his plans ready.

He still intended on following Max’s orders for drinking the wine, as there was no way he could possibly go back on such an order. But before that would happen, David wanted to see if there was a chance that Lucy still recognized her vampire friends after being gone for so long.

There were two possible ways this could go. On the one hand, he could convince his old friend that something was wrong since he and the others hadn’t aged in twenty years, giving her a warning to stay away from Max and keep her humanity. On the other hand, she could have zero memories of the boys and just be mildly annoyed by their antics.

Either way, this would hurt David’s feelings. He would never admit it, but he had missed their honorary Lost Girl, and the only thing worse than saying goodbye to her again was being forgotten by her the first time.

Even so, he needed to see for himself where this would all go before moving forward.

Max had hired Lucy as an employee for his store, no doubt as a way to keep her under his eye while he put his plan into motion. Her shift was coming to an end for the night and David and his boys were keeping an eye out for her in the shadows. When he saw her step out into the parking lot, he quickly revved his bike, swooping in on her before Max inevitably showed up.

He and the others wrapped around her in a circle, trapping her in the center while they all spun their motorcycles around. Max had forbade them from speaking to her, but he never said anything about them just driving around her. It was the only thing David and the boys could do to really interact with her.

To his utter shock, she was smiling at them. That warm, sweet grin they had missed for so long. It brought back all the memories they had when they hung out with her. The bubbly, fun-loving hippie chick they adored so much.

They all smiled back, albeit a bit more deviously. All of them wanted her to recognize them. The four biker friends who were still the same age in appearance as the last time she saw them. The boys who drank to her happy future and gave her gifts at her wedding. But that wasn’t what she saw. All Lucy saw were four strangers trapping her in her spot.

“Yeah, Mama!” Paul hollered, adding to the whooping and cheering that Marko and Dwayne had been calling to her.

“Real subtle, Paulie. Don’t call her that,” David shot back to him through their connection.

The more they circled her, the more her smile faded away. Soon she had a panicked expression on her face when she realized they weren’t letting her out. It hurt David so much more than he anticipated, seeing his friend be so scared of them now. But he just couldn’t let her leave after losing her the first time.

Come on, Lucy. You rode on the back of my bike. You kissed my cheek before saying goodnight. You gotta remember us. Please!

A pair of bright lights hit David’s eyes, distracting him from his little moment with Lucy. It was Max’s car shining its high beams as a warning to the boys. The game was up and he had lost. She really had forgotten them, and now there was no way he’d be allowed to get her attention again.

Worried about what Max would say, David sped off, breaking the circle and signaling for the others to follow him. Each of them looked back at Lucy for a moment, wanting one last glance before heading to the boardwalk. It wasn’t easy, but they had no other choice.

“Well, that was a bust. Guess she really forgot about us,” Marko said, disappointed by what had happened.

“I don’t know what we expected. There’s no way she would have thought we were the same guys she met just a few times all those years ago. She doesn’t even know vampires are real yet,” Dwayne pointed out.

“Still hurts though. I would have loved to have one more smoke with her,” Paul pouted.

David didn’t have anything to say. He simply kept his attention on the road ahead of him, fuming about the whole thing. Lucy was going to be Max’s bride and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He had let her down, even if she didn’t realize it yet.

Maybe in time, he’d have the chance to explain himself to her. If she was even willing to hear him out, of course. But for now, it was all up to their sire.

As David sped down the road, his mind wandered back to Michael. He wondered how close he and his little brother were to Lucy. She must have been a good mother to them if Max wanted her in their family so badly. Michael had that same pull on David that he once had long ago with her. The desire to make him one of them. Unlike his mother, David saw potential in Michael to be one of them. To be a killer. He couldn’t really explain how he knew. He just did.

Perhaps this was a second chance. A sign to open his heart again and have Michael become one of them. It had been so long and given he was related to Lucy wasn’t a coincidence in his mind. Perhaps fate was in fact real. Any sympathy or humanity he had the first time around was gone, and all that remained was greed to keep the blue-eyed boy for himself. Nobody would slip away like before.

You’ll be one of us soon, Michael, David thought to just himself. I made the mistake of letting Lucy go, but I won’t make that with you. Once I have you, I won’t ever let you go.

#Surprise! You thought Michael was like Wendy but he was actually like Jane all along!#I hope you guys enjoy my stupid reference to the direct to video Peter Pan sequel lol #sorry for any emotional damage #the lost boys #my fic #lucy emerson #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #michael emerson #ao3 #star the lost boys #tlb 1987 #tlb

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astragreenwoode · 1 year

Text

The Spitfire Curse - Chapter Two

Previous: Chapter One • Next: Chapter Three • Masterlist • AO3 Version

Rating: Explicit(18+ ONLY)

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Non-specified Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Drug Use, Hypersexuality, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Genre: Adventure, Thriller, Horror, Slow-Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Smut, Fluff, Slight Canon-Divergence, Fix-it fic

And a special thanks to my beta-reader @take-everything-you-can! Thank you so much for all your feedback and ideas, love!

Chapter Two: Aren't You Supposed To Burn If You're A Star?

Word Count: 8275

Chapter Warnings: Disembodied Voices, Self-Deprecating Talk, Anxiety, Implied Trauma, Language, Slight Smut, Confusion, Gaslighting, Blackouts, Hypersexual Behaviors and Thoughts

Chapter Summary: Maeven remembers the first time she realized she and Billy could become 'family' as Neil sneaks his way into her mother's heart. The morning of the school tour, she wakes up and discovers she doesn't remember all that happened the night before.

April 1984

The first time I met Neil was last November. It was the first time my mom invited him over for dinner. It was more of a ‘date night’ thing, so Max and I stayed out of the way after Mom forced us to shake his hand. We spent the rest of the night in my room, gossiping about how we thought Neil would run away in one of our famous blanket forts with Nutmeg.

At this point, Billy and I had been sneaking around for six months. All I knew about his dad was that his name was Neil and he was a piece of shit. It crossed my mind that his Neil and my mom’s Neil were one and the same, but it would be a big and unlikely coincidence. When he said he had a son, I wasn’t picturing Billy. Max and I envisioned him as a preppy football kid, a carbon copy of his father. As soon as I found out his last name was ‘Hargrove,’ I freaked out and friend-zoned Billy the next day. He wasn’t very happy about it but understood. We started things up again between us after he saved me on New Year's.

My parents divorced pretty much immediately after I yelled at them that fateful day in February. Shortly after that, Dad took Lucy and Bullet and high-tailed it to San Francisco. Max and I only saw him once a month, on second-rate holidays, and for a few extended trips during the summer. He would come to see us whenever he was back in San Diego for work. Those were the times Mom couldn’t come up with a reason for us not to go see him.

Mom was still around, of course, but it was different now that dad was out of the picture. She’d always been blurry around the edges, but it was worse after they separated. She was there for us in a sort of thin, floaty way, like she was drifting away from us and we couldn’t hold onto her. My mom barely spent any time in her craft room, anymore; something she used to do every day. It felt kind of tragically magical, the way her personality got swept up in whatever new guy she was dating.

First, there was Donnie, who was on disability for his back and need my mom to be his mother for a while. Then there was Vic from St. Louis. That was really the only interesting thing about him. Gus had heterochromia; one green eye and one blue one. Ivan picked his teeth with a switchblade on our couch. They all came and went in a flash. Max and I never really minded them. They were friendly or goofy towards us. After the honeymoon phase, their true colors came out; they were either in debt, had major codependency issues, living in their cars, or constantly winding up drunk in a county jail cell. They always left, and if they didn’t, Mom kicked them out. We never got attached to them. We knew better than that; none of them could hold a candle to our dad.

Neil was different. Neil was the only one of Mom’s recent boyfriends who had brought flowers to their date. He complimented her cooking, saying it was the best meatloaf he had ever tasted. They spent the rest of the night drinking wine while listening to records in the living room.

He and Mom met at the bank, where she was a teller and he was a security guard, slowly moving up to management since he was friends with the boss. He told Mom she looked like an old-timey framed painting or Sleeping Beauty as she stood behind the glass, handing out lollipops to the kids and deposit slips to their parents. It seemed romantic, but Max found it gross; “Sleeping Beauty’s in a coma, and a painting doesn’t do any interesting shit. They both just sit there and look pretty.”

At the time, I just praised her for her keen sense of observation, and for how smart she was. I know now that I should’ve taken that comment more seriously. It didn’t occur to me that Neil saw my mom as something he could own.

The night Neil finally introduced us to Billy was a chilly April evening. He took us to Fort Fun; known for its go-kart track, arcade, mini golf course, and jungle gym. It was the kind of place guys like Neil wouldn’t be caught dead in. Dad used to take us there to celebrate the last day of school. Later, Max found out he took us there because he wanted to impress us, to make us think he was fun.

To be fair, Max and I ended up having a good time that evening. I needed a way to loosen up; a way to escape the mess my life spiraled into the last three months and a way to distract me from where I would be in a week's time.

That night, Billy ended up being late to the party. Neil said nothing, but Max and I could tell that he was seething inside. He tried to act like everything was normal, but I noticed how his hands left dents in his foam coke cup. Mom fidgeted with a paper napkin while we awaited Billy’s arrival, folding it up into little squares. Max bounced her leg and I scratched at the scars on my arms as we looked over the menu.

Max passed me a note underneath the table. We used little notebooks that we passed back and forth to send each other silent messages. We had been doing it ever since we were little; ever since she moved into the room adjacent to mine. We would slide the notebooks against the carpet, across to the other’s room, and talk in a way so we wouldn’t wake Mom and Dad. She wrote in her signature red ink; “I bet this is all a big scam. He probably doesn’t even have a son. He probably lives in a basement and eats stray cats.”

I giggled as I wrote back; “This isn’t a horror movie, Max.”

“Either way, let's keep him away from Nutmeg.”

Even though it wasn’t true, I imagined what it would be like if this was a horror movie. Mom would definitely be the first to die. But at least I could sit through this dinner without worrying whether or not the adults knew about my and Billy’s little love affair. Anything was better than watching Neil glare out at the parking lot every two minutes and then smile tightly at my mom.

The four of us were working our way through a game of mini-golf when Billy finally decided to show his face. The engine of his Camaro was so loud that everyone on the course turned to look. He slammed the door shut behind him and walked over to us, cutting straight through the mini-golf course, stepping over a big plastic tortoise and onto the fake green turf.

Neil gave him the sour look he always gave whenever something didn't live up to his unrealistically high standards. "You're late."

Billy just shrugged, not even giving his father a glance.

"Say hello to Maxine and Margaret."

Billy gave Max a slow, cool nod like she was me and we passed each other in the halls. Max smiled, holding her putter by its sweaty rubber handle.

As much as Max and I hated this whole situation, the only silver lining she saw was getting a big brother. And as awkward as that made things with Billy and me, I wanted that for her. He had been my lifeline, my savior from everything going wrong in my life, especially in these past three months. If he could take care of her while I was blacking out and going insane, I'd gladly welcome him and Neil into the family.

"You go to Newport High, right?"

"Umm, yeah. Hi."

I couldn't deny that it hurt a little when he pretended not to know me, as if he had forgotten that beautiful thing we started last summer.

"You have nothing to be upset about, bitch. You were the one who ended things with him. And he hasn't even touched you since everyone found out what a slut you really are."

I said nothing back to it this time. Anything I would've said wouldn't have made a difference, anyway. It never did.

Later that night, Billy, Max, and I hung out by the skeeball stalls while Neil and Mom walked down the boardwalk together. The very sight of them being gooey at each other was starting to get annoying, and it made me wanna throw up. But she seemed really happy, so I just kept on taking turns with Max as we played skeeball, trying my best to ignore it.

Billy leaned his elbows on the railing of the boardwalk, looking out over the go-kart track from where we were above it. He casually balanced a cigarette between his fingers and turned to us as he breathed out the smoke. "So. . .Susan seems like a real buzzkill."

"Ha! You have no idea!" Max practically howled

I shrugged. Mom could be fussy, nervous, and absolutely no fun at all, sometimes. But she was still our mom.

"So, Margaret. . .Maxine. . ."

Unlike me, Max had better coping skills. She tucked her hair behind her ear and tossed the skeeball into the corner cup for a hundred points. The machine under the coin slot whirred and spit out a paper chain of prize tickets."Don't call us that. It's Maeven and Max,” she said, not breaking her eye contact from the game.

Billy glanced back at us with his signature sleepy smile.

"Well then, you've got quite the mouth on you,” he chuckled.

"Yeah, only when people piss us off,” I shot back. It definitely wasn’t the first time we heard it.

"Which seems to happen often with you, Iron Maeven," Billy’s laugh was low and gravelly. Max turned to me, confusion and awe written on her face.

"Iron Maeven?"

"It's. . .what everyone called me back at school."

I didn’t understand the reference until I listened to Iron Maiden for the first time. It was my first introduction to the metal scene; a sub-culture very prominent in California. I quickly became enamored with the genre. The unlikely harmony of music and screaming was probably the only healthy coping mechanism I had to deal with my parent’s divorce. It somehow expressed how the whole ordeal made me feel better than I could ever verbalize.

"You have a badass criminal nickname and you didn't tell me?! That’s so bitchin’, Sis! High-five!" Max exclaimed, holding her hand up. I slapped her hand as I laughed. She had gotten much more fun ever since I taught her how to swear effectively.

"Mad Max and Iron Maeven. All right, then. I can work with that."

Billy’s Camaro sat underneath a streetlamp. Its jet-blue paint job made it look almost like a scaled creature from another world; a monster. I could tell how much Max wanted to reach out and touch it. It was the same look she gave to Dad’s Impala.

As Billy turned away again, he watched the go-karts that zoomed along the tire-lined tracks. Max sent her last skeeball into the one-hundred cup and took the last of her tickets.

"You guys wanna race?" She asked.

Billy snorted and took a drag from his cigarette.

"Why would I wanna screw around with some little go-kart when I know how to drive?"

"Cause it's fun?" I challenged.

"I know how to drive, too,” Max said.

"Sure you do,” Billy rolled his eyes, not even blinking. He tipped his head back and blew out a plume of smoke. He seemed bored underneath the flashing neon lights on the boardwalk, but almost sounded friendly.

Dad taught me how to drive while Max sat in the backseat. He once taught her how to use a clutch in a parking lot of a Jack in the Box. In her eyes, that qualified her as a driver just from observing us. If she drove any way like she drove a go-kart, I’d never allow her behind the wheel.

"I do. As soon as I'm sixteen, I'm gonna get a Barracuda and drive all the way up the coast."

"A 'Cuda, huh? That's a lot of horsepower for a little kid."

"So? I can handle it. I bet I could even drive your car."

Billy stepped closer to Max, leaning down so that he was staring right into her face. He was still smiling.

"Max," he taunted in a sly, singsong voice. "If you think you're getting anywhere near my car, you are extremely mistaken." His smile never faded. He laughed at her again, putting out his cigarette with the toe of her boot.

"What about me?” I counter-offered as I leaned against one of the wooden light posts on the boardwalk. “Do I get driving privileges?"

Billy stepped close to me and leaned himself on his forearm above my head, towering over me. His baby blue orbs were bright, staring back into my ocean-colored ones. I inhaled a whiff of his scent; he smelled both delicious and dangerous like cigarettes and hair products mixed with engine oil. For a moment, I panicked. It seemed like he was about to kiss me right then and there, right in front of my sister.

But I composed myself as he just said "I'll think about it,” and left me on the edge. I fought the heat between my legs and the urge to go rub one out in the bathroom. Maybe I’d even drag him along with me.

“No fair!”Max whined.

“It's about as fair as it gets, actually,” I laughed, tousling her hair. Billy loomed over us, studying our faces.

“You’re just a kid,” he said again. “But I guess even kids can tell a bitchin’ ride when you see one, right?”

“Sure,” Max replied.

I figured that Billy was just kidding around with us that night. It was just the way guys talked. All the slackers, lowlifes - poor excuses for men our dad hung around at the Black Door Longue down the road from his new place in San Francisco. When they teased Norman Mayfield about his daredevil daughters and teased us about boys and school, they were only playing.

But there was something new in Billy’s demeanor and the way he talked that I didn’t recognize. He looked at me and my sister like we were something to eat. I should’ve bookmarked that moment as a red flag for later, but I was dumb. I was in love with the idea of having him around more often; in love with the idea of love. And Max and I had been dumb enough to believe this was the start of something good. That the Hargroves were here to make our family whole again. Or, at the very least, okay again.

. . .

Maeven was always a heavy sleeper, often too deep in her dreams and unbothered by the world outside her mind. Her parents and sister often had to give her the extra nudge to wake up after becoming too annoyed by the blaring alarm clock that looped one too many times. Even if she had trouble getting to sleep, especially within the past 9 months, she slept like the dead.

This morning was one of those rare occasions where Maeven woke up before her alarm. The last thing she remembered was leaning into Billy's massage before passing out. However, she found her body ached more intensely than the night before; most likely due to the twisted positions she often found herself in while she slept.

It was nothing that a few stretches and a hot shower couldn't take care of. But her hair was mysteriously damp like she already showered the night before. She brushed her nape, not thinking anything of it; it was probably just sweat.

As she roused from her sleep, she felt one of her pillows in between her legs that wasn't there before. It was scrunched up like it was hugged tightly. soaked with her arousal that seeped through her panties. Maeven recalled having a couple of easy orgasms in the midst of her dreamless, dark rest. She also remembered being very scared, filled with dread, but couldn’t pinpoint why, either.

Ever since hitting puberty, she had a tendency to writhe and hump in her sleep, chasing her high in dreamland. It became more uncontrollable after what happened nine months prior. Billy must've put the pillow between her legs before going back to his own room. He was thoughtful like that, in the little ways that made a big difference.

It was a Sunday morning, the birds still singing as the cool wind blew through the open windows of Maeven's room. Maeven and Max used to wake up early every Sunday for their mother. As soon as they both completed their first communion, Susan stopped requiring her daughters’ attendance. Their Mom continued going on her own, but the two sisters got their well-deserved lazy Sunday.

Hawkins High School and Middle School started their classes three weeks ago. It was inconvenient for both Billy and the Mayfield sisters. Billy was forced to move right before his Senior Year of High-School. Max had to leave behind everything she ever knew. Maeven felt like she left half her heart in California, carrying what remained with her to Hawkins. But as long as no one found out she was an 18-year-old Junior, she’d be fine.

Coming to the party late was going to suck. The students were still getting a feel for the new school year but settled into their regular routines of classes and clubs. The blended siblings would have to go through weeks of cramming what they missed at the start of the year; enduring pressuring questions about being the ‘new kid’ and being forced to introduce themselves in each class like they were giving an oral presentation about who they were.

The next couple of days were really going to blow. Neil and Susan had already enrolled their kids the first day they arrived. Today, Billy, Max, and Maeven were going on a tour of the campus before they started classes the following morning. Maeven was the only one interested in the tour, even if she wasn't looking forward to their first day, either. It would be good to get a feel of the campus; have a way to navigate without feeling totally lost on the first day.

As Maeven’s body finally caught up with her brain, she shamelessly contorted her body with her stretches, only satisfied when her back arched and her head hang upside down. Her mind wandered to how she once made fun of her mother for how ridiculous she thought she looked striking her yoga poses. When she collapsed back onto her mattress onto her side, wincing as she felt a sharp pain on her upper-right arm. Maeven lifted the short sleeve of her sleep shirt to inspect, confused by the bandage that she didn’t remember putting on. Taking a look over herself, she saw a few more bandages along both her arms, as well as a couple on her chest.

Maeven slapped herself hard across her cheek, punishing her body and mind for acting without her permission again. She must’ve blacked out last night, or sleepwalked again. There really wasn’t a difference between the two anymore, they both ended up in the same way; with her doing things she later regretted. Whenever she was kicked out of the driver's seat, any number of bad things could happen. Last night, she must’ve cut herself amidst her blacked-out mania. Uncomfortably familiar with this scenario now, Maeven knew what must’ve happened; Billy was forced to patch her up yet again.

“Mae-Mae?”

At the sound of a knock on the door accompanied by her mother’s voice, Maeven instinctively buried herself back under her quilt and pretended to be asleep. Mom didn’t need to know about this. She thought she was getting better.

“Maevey?” Susan asked again, knocking before cracking the door open a smidge and poking her head through.

Maeven put her sleepy mask back on, moving the quilt off her face and letting out a soft moan as if she had just woken up.

“Hey, mom. . .” she mumbled, burying her face into her sheets.

“Hi, sweetie,” Susan smiled, coming over to sit on the foot of her daughter’s bed. “I thought I heard you. You’re up early.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Maeven breathed out, relieved now that her mom seemed to have bought her performance.

Susan Mayfield’s smile was contagious, annoyingly so. It had become more frequent once she married Neil. Maeven could do without her constant positivity since it wasn’t always appropriate, and sometimes even toxic. But seeing her mom happy was better than seeing her in constant misery the way she used to be.

“That’s good. You must be excited, huh?”

“That’s a word for it,” Maeven yawned out, rolling her eyes before closing them. The sun seemed especially bright this morning. Her mom stood up from the bed and asked her daughter before leaving; “Pancakes or waffles?”

Still pretty out of it, Maeven’s brain processed her mom’s words slowly as she looked back up at her.

“Huh?”

“Breakfast, Maevey,” Susan clarified, visibly puzzled at her daughter’s confusion.

“Oh, ummm. . .waffles, please,” she replied, putting on a small smile again.

“Good thing I found which box the waffle iron is in.”

. . .

While showering, Maeven always did her best not to look down at her body as she washed herself. She barely even saw her own naked figure in the mirror anymore. The closest she had ever gotten was looking at herself in her bra and underwear. Even then, she teared up looking at the many small scars that littered her flesh. The only time she felt remotely good about her body is when she was being touched by someone else. When she was touched, when Billy touched her, she no longer felt like a stranger in her own body. The way he simultaneously worshiped and used her made all the scars momentarily disappear, replacing them with tender bites and bruises no one else could see. Just the thought of it made her hand wander down between her legs. . .

Maeven slapped her cheek a couple of times at her impulses as someone barged into the bathroom. She hates herself for even feeling a little bit excited at the thought of being caught like this. The whole concept was so hot to her, but simultaneously sent a violently revolting shiver of shame down her spine.

“Max! What did we say about privacy!?” she shouted as she peeked her head out from behind the curtain. Max rolled her eyes and dramatically groaned, shamelessly pulling down her sleep pants so she could pee.

“There's a curtain separating us, Maevey! Besides, we’re both girls. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Maeven chuckled, closing the curtain as she washed the last of the hair products from her head.

“I’m not wearing panties, Squirt. I’m showering.”

“Okay, fine, don’t get your pubes tangled then.”

In an instant, both sisters burst out laughing. Crude jokes had become their preferred pass time once Max finally became a teenager.

“No! Nope! That is so much worse!”

“Girls?” Susan Mayfield probably waited half a second after knocking before opening the door, too curious about the commotion to consider the very concept of privacy.

“Mom! Get out!” Her daughters yelled in unison. She retreated quickly, keeping the door open enough to get her message across.

“Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.”

“Okay, fine! Just close the door!” Max groaned.

At the sound of the door locking shut, they relaxed. But just as Maeven lathered up her poof with body wash, Max stood up to flush the toilet as she pulled up her pants.

“Ow! Fuck!” Maeven winced and cowered away at the now boiling water shooting down at her from the showerhead.

“Shit! Sorry!” Max exclaimed. Maeven chuckled as the water now only hit her feet.

“No, no, it’s fine, you didn’t know. Neither did I.”

It really was fine. It hurt, but Maeven didn’t like hearing her baby sister sound so pathetically scared of the potential backlash.

“Won’t happen again.”

“I know, Squirt, but if I have third-degree burns on my ass by the time I’m out of here, you’re dead!”

“Yeah, sure.”

There was quiet for the next couple minutes or so as Max brushed her teeth and Maeven washed her body, her eyes still closed.

“Okay, there, it’s all yours.”

“Bye Max.”

As she stood underneath the showerhead, finally alone, Maeven let the hot water wash away all the pain. Outside, everything felt chaos, out of her control. Being closed off in a shower like this was one of the only times she felt at peace, as if she was safe and warm in the womb again. But it wasn’t perfect. She had no control over the sound in this environment; no way to block out the silence with the mixtapes from her dad on her walkman. This bathroom was too small to fit her boombox anywhere without it being in danger of being tripped on or having water splashed on it. The sound of running water wasn’t enough for Maeven to work with, leaving her brain to run wild without her permission.

“Stupid, fucking insane bitch. You’re a stupid fucking insane bitch, Maeven.”

Even though the voice came from inside her, it wasn’t her own. Whatever or whoever came to invade her head with poison possessed a tone deeper than hers. It was smooth and oddly familiar, but often scratchy and distorted. If she had heard this voice before, Maeven couldn’t for the life of her identify it correctly.

“Yeah. . .well at least I know I’m insane,” she scoffed back as she ran her soaped-up poof around her body, eyes still shut tight. “That makes me better than all the crazy people in denial of their craziness.”

“Really? It sounds worse. Like you’re on a whole new level of crazy.”

Maeven rolled her eyes back into her skull so hard it hurt. There was no winning with this voice. It always had something else to say.

“Shut up.” It was redundant at this point, trying to quiet the voice. It never shut up. It always came back, eventually.

Maeven subconsciously brought one hand to the nape of her neck to feel the bottom of her hair. It was still choppy from when she impulsively cut off her long fiery curls back in February. She never even bothered to have it evened out, even though she cut it every month to keep it from growing. She had been growing it out since she was ten, but it just didn’t feel like her any longer.

Her other hand ghosted over her pelvis, tracing the large scar above her left ovary in the shape of a heart. It didn’t hurt when she touched it anymore, but it hurt if it was pressed on too hard. That was an improvement. Her periods were still extremely painful, no matter how well her body adjusted to the months of healing from surgery.

Maeven could still remember the exact way it felt when it was carved into her flesh.

“You know you can never wash it away, right?”

“I know. . .”

. . .

A shiver shot down Maeven’s spine as she took her meds at the breakfast table; the combination of eight different kinds of pills left a bitter taste and a horrible feeling. But she needed them to stay together, and she hated that. She was mad that her body and brain couldn’t function like everyone else’s, and that she needed pills to feel normal. It didn’t feel as bad when she took them with food or any drink other than water; the taste distracted her from the grossness of it all. Her mom’s waffles seemed to be the best of those distractions.

Billy slipped his hand under the table and gave Maeven’s hand a comforting and reassuring squeeze at her sign of discomfort.

Meals between the newly-blended family were always awkward, the silence seemingly screaming at them. Max and Maeven both practically inhaled their food, relieved to finally have a familiarly wholesome meal. They had been doing takeout for the past week while waiting for the moving truck and figuring out what goes where. Billy and his dad ate at an acceptable pace. Susan always ate fairly slowly, but would sometimes eat so slowly as if she didn’t deserve what was being served, even if she made it herself; it had been more present since the wedding.

“So. . .you kids excited for tomorrow?”

At the sound of Neil’s voice, Maeven jumped and Billy pulled his hand away from her leg.

“Not really,” Max replied after swallowing her food.

“Nope,” Billy said, bluntly.

“I’m still deciding,” Maven mumbled.

Neil said nothing to them, just laughing as he gave them that same icy stare.

“Ah, I never liked school either. But either way, I expect you kids to be on your best behavior,” he said in between bites of sausage and eggs. “This is a chance for a brand-new start for all of us and we don’t need you making things tougher than it needs to be; especially you, Margaret.”

Maeven wanted to tell him off, to tell him for the umpteenth time that that wasn’t her name. She hated it when people called her that; she said it made her sound like an old lady, which her aunt Margaret on her Dad’s side took playful offense to, It wasn’t like she was wrong. But she didn’t. And it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. So instead, she just put on the smile she knew Neil wanted from her and said; “Trust me, I’m not looking to start anything. Just gonna try and blend in this year.”

“Oh, please, Maeven. You’ve never blended in,” Billy scoffed, leaning over to playfully shove her arm. He did it a little harder than Maeven would’ve preferred, but she said nothing.

“Yeah,” Max said with a mouthful of waffles, “especially not with that hair."

She leaned over to lightly pulled at her sister’s identical red locks.

“Ow!” Maeven laughed, slapping her hand away before giving Billy a slap on the shoulder. “Okay, I did not come here to be abused while trying to enjoy a delicious meal. You know what they say; no time like the present, guys.”

The kids turned back to their plates, but not before Maeven could return her sister’s tug.

“And it's your hair, too, Squirt."

“Maevey, Max,” Susan spoke up, giving her daughters the eyes she only gave them when she was about to lecture them or ask them to do something for her. “I picked out some outfits for you and laid them on your bed for tomorrow.”

Max dropped her fork and rolled her eyes.

“What?” Maeven looked at her mother

“Yeah, I can dress myself,” Max whined.

“It’ll be your first day in a new school, a new town. I thought you might wanna wear something special.”

“Why?”

Maeven and Max knew they should want to make their mom happy, but they sure as hell weren’t about to show up to their first day at new schools dressed like someone they weren’t.

“Oh, you know. It just seems like such a waste. You girls are gorgeous, but I never see you dress up or try to look nice. And I want you to make a good impression on those kids.”

The idea that they needed to look nice for Hawkins was laughable to Maeven and Max. But they stayed silent. Susan always did this; tried to mold her daughters into something they weren’t, especially since their dad left. Both Mayfield girls hated it. It hurt them to think that their mother didn’t like them the way they already were. Dad would never make them feel like that. But since their mother married Neil, they felt like they had to tolerate it more.

“Promise me you’ll at least take a look, okay?”

The sisters said nothing, finding their half-finished plates suddenly very interesting. They both seethed, Maeven tapping her fingers against the tabletop as Max shook her leg under the table in frustration.

“Girls, answer your mother,” Neil said, not looking up from his breakfast. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. They knew that by now.

“Alright, Mom.”

“Okay.”

Susan gave the girls and Neil a smile before going back to her meal. But Neil had one more piece of news to report.

“Margaret, before your classes tomorrow, you’ll have to check in with the sheriff’s office this afternoon. You’ll also need to check in with the school counselor before you leave campus tomorrow.”

The words ‘sheriff’ and ‘counselor’ made Maeven’s heart-rate spike. She always had problems with the authorities. It may be surprising since her Dad was in the military, but she was scared of cops; she had a reason to be ever since she was tackled by them in the ninth grade. And she had spent more than enough time with counselors in inpatient treatment for three months. She was tired of being forced to relive her trauma, justifying her behavior, defending herself, and trying to convince people she wasn’t crazy.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Have you really already forgotten? We talked about this last week.”

She didn’t remember that conversation but nodded to her stepdad as if she did.

“Sorry. . .”

“Don’t be sorry. If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t do it.”

Maeven felt Billy rub her knee again under the table. She didn’t say anything after that. She just finished her meal as she snapped her rubberband against her wrist, trying not to think about how hard she’d fuck up her meeting with the cops this afternoon. She just wanted this part of her life over and done with. But she’d push through this; she had help. All she had to do was put up with these weekly meetings with cops and counselors for the next year, and she’d be home-free.

“You always fuck up everything, no matter what. Why would this time be any different?”

Maeven didn’t feel like eating, anymore. Even if she had those on her side who wanted to help her, it was hard to stay positive when you feel like you were a hostage in your own body, a prisoner in your own mind.

“Everyone finished?” Susan asked, standing up from the table. Maeven nearly jumped at the offer to clear the table; anything to escape Neil’s harsh gaze.

“It’s okay, Mom. I got it,” she said, taking her mother’s plate before going for the rest. As everyone left the table, she cringed as Neil passed her with his final words of the morning.

“Good girl.”

“He totally knows about you and Billy. He knows how you let him fuck you in his Camaro like the filthy little whore you are. Once mom goes downhill, he’s coming for you, next.”

“Now everyone get your things together or we’ll be late for the tour,” Susan called out from the living room.

. . .

As Maeven laced on her doc martens, she tightened the lace, one, two, three times on each foot. The bags underneath her eyes were showing no sign of disappearing. No matter how much sleep she had gotten, she always looked exhausted. Eyeliner helped, but she didn’t wanna give boys the wrong idea. She kept her aunt’s evil eye necklace hidden underneath her muted striped sweater. Neil would throw a fit about her being a ‘devil-worshipping-hippe’ otherwise.

The outfits her mother laid out on her bed for her made her want to throw up; too many bright colors and ruffles. They were shallow Christmas gifts with the best intentions. Susan thought her daughter would look nice in them, but never considered that she wouldn’t like them. Maeven would only wear them at formal events, or mother-daughter date nights to make her happy. But she didn’t feel like she needed to do that, anymore; her mom seemed ignorantly happy, floating.

It was a lot colder today as if someone flipped the switch from ‘summer’ to ‘fall’ with a snap of their fingers. Maeven opted for her long black skirt but still slipped on her fishnet stockings and armlets. She liked the way they made her feel, and how they gripped her skin like a hug. She used to shamelessly wear the stockings underneath skirts and shorts that she got in trouble for at school. The armlets provided her with a distraction; the oddly soothing feeling she got from running her fingers against the netted fabric was a better way to cope than scratching her arms. The idea of ruining them with her bad habits was enough to dissuade her, too.

As Maeven gave herself a look over in the full-length mirror in the corner across her bed, she didn’t notice herself. She felt alright; that was all she felt when she looked in the mirror now. What she was more focused on was the night light that should’ve been plugged in next to the mirror. It had been there since the first night they moved in. Where did it go?

“Are you gonna bring him?”

“What?”

Maeven blinked, forgetting where she was for a moment and what she was supposed to be doing. The disembodied voice seemed to echo throughout her blank bedroom.

“Woodsy’s looking right at you. You gonna bring him with?”

She looked in the mirror again, finally grasping what it was alluding to. Her Woodsy Owl plush laying on her unmade bed, seemingly looking up at Maeven through his reflection in the mirror.

“Today or tomorrow?”

“At all.”

Her dad gave that plush to Maeven on her birthday ten years ago, along with a ‘give a hoot, don’t pollute’ bumper sticker she ended up sticking to the doors of her wardrobe. She had Smokey Bear and Ranger Rick to complete her set of U.S. Forest Service pals. But Woodsy was always her favorite. She had been especially reliant on him these past nine months, bringing him with her to cling to in case a panic attack suddenly came. But she wasn’t going to school then.

“I’m not gonna walk into a new high school with an old toy stuffed into the bottom of my backpack.”

“No. Don’t do that. Not to Woodsy. He’s your friend. You should walk in with him tucked under your arm.”

Maeven was almost eighteen. She graduated from inpatient therapy, she could drive, and she had a bright future ahead of her as long as she kept her shit together. Walking into Hawkins High with a childhood toy would make her the laughingstock of the student body.

As she held the love-worn owl plush in her hands, she couldn’t shake the internal need to bring him with her. But instead, she spoke back, “Why would I do that?”

“So they’d all leave you alone?”

But Maeven didn’t want to be left alone. Well, she did, but this was different. She wanted people to mind their own business and just let her be in peace. But she didn’t want to be alone at Hawkins’ High. As much as she loved Billy, she longed for her own life again.

“I want everyone out and in the cars in two minutes! Come on, let’s go! Chop chop!”

Maeven shot up from her bed at Neil’s voice, stuffing the plush into the bottom of her bag, giving herself a mental slap in shame.

It was ironic that even though her dad was the one in the military, her stepdad was the one with the drill sergeant-like attitude.

. . .

Susan, Neil, and Max piled into the family station wagon with the wooden belt, while Maeven rode along with Billy in his Camaro; the way the family always drove. For some reason, neither of their parents was suspicious or had a problem with it. Out in the open, Billy and Maeven were playful, as if they had actually been brother and sister forever.

No one knew when their attention was pointed elsewhere how much they set each other aflame with desperate kisses and electric touches. They didn’t know how much Maeven loved it when Billy showed her absolutely no mercy, how he dug his thumbs into her hips so hard they would leave bruises as he used all his strength to pound against her cervix. They’d be shocked to discover just how many times he fucked so possessively that she couldn’t remember anything the next day. But Maeven and Billy stopped caring enough to keep count.

Maeven wondered if that was how things went down the night before. It definitely wouldn’t be the first time.

“Go on. Ask him. You know he’s waiting for you to.”

She said nothing back, continuing to bounce her leg as she fiddled with her hands in her lap. But her heart stopped and time seemed to stand still as Billy pinched her skirt, hiking the fabric up her leg until he slipped his fingers under the hem to grip the flesh of her thigh. Maeven’s breath hitched in her throat, as the hum of the Camaro's engine sent a warm purr, mimicking the electricity that suddenly pulsed deep in her tummy. The memories of the time he revved the engine of his car to coax an orgasm from her made her crave another just like it. It was hard to keep her cool when her brain twisted anything and everything to appear sexy.

This is how most of their car trips alone together were spent. They weren’t always sexual, but Billy’s right hand was almost always on a part of Maeven’s body. It was his way of telling her “I’m right here. You’re safe. I promise.”

Maeven had the strong urge to close her thighs shut and wiggle her hips but mustered all the self-control she had within her to stay on task. She moved her hand over Billy’s and asked him: “What happened last night?”

Billy shifted his focus from the road, blinking away the rush of the high he always got from the feeling of speeding on an open road.

“What?”

“Last night? When you came into my room?”

His expression didn’t change, as if she said nothing and he was still waiting to listen to her. But he did, glancing at her like she was on display.

“You don’t remember?”

“No. I woke up with new cuts, wet hair, and a wet pillow between my legs.”

Billy chuckled out a cloud of smoke as the cigarette hung from his sly smile. When he saw that she wasn’t joking or flirting, he laughed again

“Damn, Dollface, you seriously have no idea?”

Why did he have to play these games with her at the most inconvenient times?

“Tolerating him is the least you could do to thank him for taking care of you,” her internal voice reminded her. Maeven felt that she wasn’t in any position to criticize his quirks. He’d given her the same courtesy in the past.

"I don't remember cutting myself up or showering. I sure as hell don't remember fucking my pillow,” she recounted, the missing time and context from her blackouts taunting and haunting her. She despised this. She wanted it gone, for it to be over.

“Woah, woah, calm down there, Iron Maeven,” Billy cooed at her, bringing his hand underneath Maeven’s arm to lace their fingers together, rubbing the top of her hand as he rested them atop the clutch. “I was giving you a massage, and you started humping my hand when I got down to your thighs.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you changed your mind and then climbed on top of me and we messed around for a bit. You really don’t remember that?”

That didn’t sound like Maeven. She could get caught up in the heat of the moment, sure. Then again, she apparently did a lot of things that were considered ‘out of character’ during her blackouts. Billy wasn’t the only witness to it. Her parents, sister, and friends saw it happen, too. Maeven would never forgive herself now that Max saw her so unhinged.

“You disgusting little whore. Do you really have that poor self-control?”

“No. . .I don’t.”

“I went to go and use the bathroom and get some water, and when I came back, you were cutting. I gave you one of your chill pills and helped you clean up in the shower. You’re the one who asked me to put the pillow there.”

Everything fit together perfectly. Again, she couldn’t understand why she would do these things. But if she was told a year prior that she’d eventually become a drug, self-harm, and sex addict, Maeven would’ve laughed it off. If there was one thing she learned after her parent’s divorce, it was that nothing ever really went a hundred percent according to plan.

“All you do is take. You take his love for granted and then you mutilate your body to take more of his attention.”

At the feeling over her cheeks wettening with tears, Maeven gave herself another slap across the face. She didn’t deserve to be crying. She did this to herself. As she moved her hand to slap herself again, Billy gripped her wrist to stop her. When he noticed her breathing getting heavier, he let go to lovingly stroke her fiery red locks, cradling her head in his palm.

“Hey, it’s okay. It's okay, Doll. It’s not your fault,” he cooed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve noticed something was wrong.”

Maeven still couldn’t decide if his understanding made her feel better or worse. He was so good to her, and he didn’t deserve for her to drag him down with her.

“No, no. It’s not your fault, either,” she said, wiping her eyes. “You were helping me. I’m sorry you had to do that again.”

Billy tenderly gripped her chin and turned her head to face him.

“I’ll never get tired of taking care of you, Maevey. Y’know that right?”

“He’s lying to you.”

She wanted to agree with it, to protest out loud. But his baby blues almost never failed to put her at ease. So, instead, she just nodded.

“Good. I love you,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. Maeven blinked away the remaining tears in her eyes, slipping her skirt back down as she fidgeted with her gloves

“I love you, too,” she muttered back, but she said it more as a courtesy to herself as if she could convince herself to believe Billy’s words.

“He hates you, you stupid insane bitch. You know he does. He fucking hates you.”

The ride was silent until Hawkins came into view. They figured they’d get used to the long-ish drive, and the fact that their new ‘home’ had more hills and trees than buildings. Today was not that day. But maybe it would come soon. Maeven clutched her backpack in her lap, poking at the softness of her beloved plush toy shoved to the bottom temporarily soothed her nerves.

“By the way, do you know what happened to my night light?”

Maeven wanted to mention it before she forgot again. Billy choked out a smoke-filled laugh before throwing the butt of his cigarette out the window. She wished he’d stop doing that.

“Your what?”

“The light behind my mirror? It was there last night, and now it’s gone,” she said, immediately regretting overexplaining. Billy didn’t like it when she talked to him like that; like he was stupid. He pushed his foot a little harder on the gas, causing Maeven to be pushed back in her seat by the sudden increase in speed.

“You really shouldn’t have that shit, anymore, Maevey, you’re almost eighteen. I didn’t do anything with it. Why would you think that? You’d really think I’d steal from you?”

Maeven’s heart sped up as her leg bounced instinctively.

“No, no, no. It’s not that.”

“Keep your fucking mouth shut, bitch. Don’t push your luck.”

“You probably just got tired of it, finally. If you were that out of it that you can’t remember anything, who knows what else you could’ve done?”

Sure, it was kind of silly and childish, but the night light helped her feel comfortable and safe. She never got tired of that light. It had been in her room since she was an infant. She wanted to say ‘no;’ to tell him that didn’t sound like her. But she couldn’t say that about herself. Maeven couldn’t say anything about herself with confidence, anymore.

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry,” she said. Billy forgave and forgot her little rude outbursts. Maeven didn’t. She never forgot or forgave herself. Her heart continued to beat and her leg continued to bounce as she squeezed the bottom of her backpack. Even though she shouldn’t, she felt the need to punish herself. It all depended on if the day got better or worse. And maybe Billy would get to it before she did.

“You shouldn’t have asked him about it. You pissed him off. You’re gonna have to make it up to him now, y’know? The only reason he’s stayed this long is that he feels sorry for you. And besides, you only really have one thing to give him.”

. . .

A/N: This was more of a filler chapter than anything. I'm still getting a feel for how Maeven's brain is wired and how her trauma affects her everyday life. Don't worry. Next chapter, we'll be diving into meeting all the other characters. As always, I love hearing your thoughts down below!

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