#bed thief to the max | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wardenparker · 10 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 9

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Family drama (past), revelations, family estrangement, the truth will always come out. Summary: The revelation of your grandfather's identity is not the only secret that will unfurl itself into your life. Notes: This week has just been another shitshow of utter chaos, but it is LOVELY chaos, so I hope you enjoy the chapter my darlings! As always, sorry for any errors I miss. I’m just an exhausted little nerd doing my best 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

"How are you here?" And, more over, how are you real? But one thing at a time. The fuzzy edges of the memory that washed up on the shores of your dreams are still nudging at your waking mind.

He sighs sadly, his eyes shuttering slightly as he reflects on what has brought him back to you. “It was only because of your abuela’s sacrifice, muñequita. It was the only way to lift the spell. She loved you more than anything else on this earth.”

"I don't understand." Whether it's the fog of waking up so suddenly or the confusion of memories and dreams and daydreams all slamming together in your mind, you can't quite tell.

“I am your grandfather.” He tells you with a charming grin. “Some call me ‘The Thief’, since it has been years since anyone but the people in this house have known my name. But you always called me ‘Yayo’.” He bows slightly as he tells you his real name.

“Holy shit.” Max hisses, his eyes wide as he stares at his sire. The pieces are clicking into place, but even he is shocked at how close you really are to the man who had created him, who had saved him when he had been destroyed. How was it possible? A vampire cannot have children, at least that’s what he’s been told.

"But...I made you up." That's the rational half of your brain. The part of you that knows dreams aren't real, that fantasies can't come true through manifestation alone, and that love is a feeling rather than a universal force. But the other half of you? The witch who was born of witches who once conjured fire with nothing more than a thought and bare hands? That part of you knows he's telling the truth. "Didn't I?"

Again, another sigh. A habit he had picked up from his late soulmate. The human-ifcation as she liked to call it. “No. When your mother took you away, banned us from seeing you, the only way I could visit was through your dreams. Apparently the spell she cast had also made you forget about myself and your grandmother.”

Max is tense beside you and you cover his hand with one of yours, squeezing it as if it might reassure him that everything is okay. You can feel that intrinsically even if the logic for how you know that escapes you. "I think..." Like a rapid-fire collage on the inside of your mind, flashing of visits with your grandparents burn to life as very real memories instead of gauzy wisps of dreams. "I—um—" Looking between the two men, realizing that you're in bed and in your pajamas, you look back to Yayo with wide eyes. "You're not a witch, are you?" You ask, needing confirmation more than you actually need to be told. The memories are there in your mind, but they aren't clear.

Chuckling quietly, he shakes his head. “No witch.” He promises, letting his razor-sharp fangs descend from his gums to show off his true nature. “A vampire who was soulmates with a witch, just as my protégé.” His eyes shift to Max. “Now you understand why you were brought back.”

The next puzzle piece clicks into place in your mind and you gasp, looking over to Max with wide eyes. "Are you— I mean— did he?—" You sputter inelegantly, running out of breath all at once as you try to stutter out a coherent question. " Your sire is my...grandfather?"

“I didn’t know.” Max shakes his head in awe, apparently nearly speechless considering he knows that this vampire is older than any other that he knows.

"There is much to say." Yayo's eyes move between you on the bed, coming back to you after a few seconds and holding your gaze. Not in an entrancing way, but with the soft eyes of a doting grandfather. "We can talk anywhere you like, muñequita. But when you were a little girl you were very grouchy before breakfast."

"I should at least get dressed, I guess." For the second morning in a row, you are starting out disoriented and with an unexpected visitor. But this time you're not afraid. Curious? Oh yes. But there is none of that deep, intrinsic fear that there was yesterday.

“Then I shall meet you in the dining room.” Yayo bows and turns to disappear through the door like a ghost, completely silent as he moves.

It's icy cold around you when he sweeps out of the room without a sound, and you turn to Max in wide-eyed confusion. "Um..." you huff, shaking your head. You want to ask how he had possibly gotten in the house, but that seems like a moot point by now. "Good morning?"

“It seems like there is a lot going on.” He snorts slightly, reaching out to you to stroke your arms lightly. “How are you feeling?”

"Weird." The sense of safety that you have with Max is absolute, and you nearly collapse into his side to beg silently for more of his comforting touch. "I dreamt about him again last night. And it was a dream. But it felt so real..."

“I don’t think it was a dream, Queenie.” Max murmurs softly. “I think your grandfather made you relive a memory. He was here, all night.”

"He was here?" When your head pops up again you want to harrumph about having two vampires sit around watching you sleep, but as soon as you think it you think again about how safe that is. And how no one else in the world would probably feel as safe around creatures who drink blood to survive as you do. "Max?" Your head tilts slightly and you find his eyes. "Have you ever known your sire to lie?"

“Never lie.” Max tells you. “Sometimes he doesn’t tell you everything. He’s…enigmatic, but not a liar.”

"I remember my parents fighting," you tell him quietly, pressing a kiss to the tip of Max's shoulder before you push back the blankets to crawl out of bed and find some clean clothes. You're doubly glad that you took a bath last night. It had helped you relax and be sleepy for bed, but now it takes away the need to wash this morning. "That's what I dreamt about. My parents fighting with my grandparents." Right before you disappear around the corner into your dressing room, you turn to look at him with sadness in your eyes. "About me."

“Families sometimes don’t agree.” Max can understand that you are hurt by that. Zipping over to you to wrap his arms around you. “But you can find out why now. And….” He bites his lip. “You have family still.”

"One person." Though you nod against his chest, knowing that he's right as you hug him back. "It was too much to let me know both of them, I guess."

“He said something about a sacrifice.” Max doesn’t want to cloud your opinion before you talk to his sire. “I know that it was Cookie’s choice to stop taking his blood. He did not agree, but he could not stop her.”

"Allison said Cookie...abuela was trying to break some kind of spell. They were working together trying to combine their magic to make it happen but they couldn't." Realizing that you were technically brought here under false pretenses is odd, but you can't find it in yourself to be upset about it. Apparently, this situation is far more complicated than you knew.

“Then we should hear the unfiltered story from his mouth.” Max encourages, giving you a small smile as he reels from the developments of the morning.

"I guess that is what breakfast will be for." Looking at your closet, you look back to Max with determination. "You said your sire was a big deal in the vampire world, right? I should...try to dress up? Dress respectfully?"

“Dress in whatever makes you feel good.” He arches a brow. “This is your grandfather, important vampire or not. Your imaginary friend isn’t so imaginary anymore.”

"What's your favourite color?" It seems like a silly question, but in the face of so much chaos you're looking for an anchor. Something solid to hold onto in the storm. And if that thing is as simple as wearing your soulmate's favorite color, then that's what you're going to do.

Max smirks slightly as he leans against the door frame. “Blood red.” He teases for a second before he shakes his head. “No— actually, yellow is my favorite color.”

"Okay." Yellow...you have a few yellow things somewhere...you can definitely find something, at least. For now you reach up to hug Max as tightly as you can and exhale an unsteady breath. "I'm just going to get dressed and then I'll meet you downstairs?

“Of course, sweetheart.” Max understands that you might need a few moments to yourself. He nods and then disappears out of the doorway to dress himself and go down to the dining room.

The photograph of you and your mother that stares back from your vanity mirror is a tantalizing route back to those memories that still escape you. You find yourself staring at it for longer than you should, tracing the curve of your mother's face and seeing the way that Yayo's curls somehow had ended up on her head. How had you never noticed? Or were those curls just something you found so comforting that it simply hadn't occurred to you not to give them to your imaginary friend? But he isn't imaginary at all. He's so very real. And he is your family.

Sighing, you dig into your dresser until you come out with an amber colored cable knit sweater and a pair of dark brown corduroy pants. The comfortable ones that Derek hated because he said they weren't putting your best foot forward. Fuck that. You've always loved these pants. If comfort is a way to take back power, you are absolutely here for it.

Max is dressed in a flash, downstairs and waiting for you. His eyes fixed on the stairs as he tries not to ask his sire any questions that you might wish to know the answer to while he waits.

As quickly as you can, you head downstairs, only to find both men standing at the bottom of the grand staircase instead of sitting in the dining room as you expected them. "Waiting for me?" You ask, knowing the answer but feeling unduly self-conscious about it all of a sudden.

"I would wait to eternity for you muñequita." He promises, soft affection glowing as he steps forward and offers you his arm. While he understands the modern customs and traditions, he still prefers his way of being. Set in his ways about some things, and the opportunity to touch you is still a delightful experience. "Your breakfast is nearly ready, and I believe the tea service is already on the table."

“Mrs. Taylor is wonderful.” And you’ll never downplay that, especially not now that you realize your housekeeper has been his housekeeper for a very long time. Taking his arm instead of Max’s feels strange only in that you aren’t used to Yayo being solid. In all the thoughts you have of him, he is a figment of your imagination and not much more. Realizing that there is more at stake here is a lot to process.

“She is.” He won’t deny that in the least. “She took care of your mother when she was a child as well.” Since she had been with them for so long, Mrs. Taylor had known the entire history of the family.

“Mom…grew up here?” It’s only a few steps into the dining room, and Yayo pulls out your chair for you before sitting down on your right. Max takes the seat on your left and you note quietly that there are only three places set. Allison and Eddie must have gone back to Allison’s house last night after their date.

Settling beside you, his eyes are focused on you. “This house was built in 1852.” He explains. “When I found out that your grandmother was pregnant with your mother. She gave birth to her in this house.”

“What?” The math doesn’t add up. Not at all. The woman you remember — the woman you have photos of — was maybe in her mid-30s at the oldest. “Mom was…over a hundred and fifty years old?”

“Yes.” He knows it’s nearly impossible to imagine, but it’s true. “Your mother was half vampire, half witch and like me, nearly did not age.”

“Will you…” you sigh softly, and pour yourself a cup of tea with shaky hands. “Will you start at the beginning, Yayo? Please?”

Again, there is a carafe of blood, and he pours himself and Max a cup before he pick up the elegant tea cup and smiles slightly, remembering how he had bought this set for his Cookie. “When I was a young man, I was a thief.” He tells you, wanting you to understand the background of your family line. “The best. I was never caught save for one time.” He flashes a grin. “When I stole from the Devil.”

The Devil. For the moment — and for as unbelievable as the rest of the story seems to already be — you suspend your disbelief and nod. “How long ago was this?” You ask, trying politely to get a handle on exactly how old Yayo is.

"201 B.C." He answers with a small smirk. "I am quite a bit older than most would guess." Even Max's eyes widen dramatically, unaware that his sire was such an ancient vampire. "As punishment for my sin, the Devil decided to make an example of me." He takes a sip of his blood and pauses dramatically. "I was the first of our kind. The undead. The first vampire to walk the earth."

When you glance at Max it’s very clear that your soulmate fully believes the story that is being told, and you would never take Max for easily misled. More over, he knows a hell of a lot more about vampires than you do. So you sip your tea in contemplative silence for a long moment before sitting back in your chair again. “And you met Ms. Brown—Cookie—that is…abuela…in the 18th century?” The timeline here is mind boggling, but you’re trying your best here. To understand it all. To believe it.

“Part of my punishment was that I would walk without my soulmate for over a thousand years.” He snorts elegantly. “Apparently a few hundred extra years is no matter to the Devil.”

“And abuela was born a witch?” The genetic differences between witches and humans had dwindled over time to become very subtle. The powers they manifested were less powerful, too, and you regret now that you never listened more deeply to your father when he tried to tell you about your ancestors. Your mother’s intense desire to live a human life had overruled that sort of talk as you got older.

“Yes.” The proud gleam to the ancient vampire’s eyes reappears and he caresses the edge of the teacup. “Cookie was formidable. A powerful witch. When we met, she had come to the colonies because her own coven had cast her out. Scared of the power she possessed.”

“She was remarkable.” Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway from the pantry with a plate of fixed breakfast for you, as the only warm blooded person at the table, and a bowl each of fruit and raw nuts for the vampires to pick at with their blood. “Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you have decided to leave the tower.”

“So that’s where you’ve been camped out.” Max snorts, smirking at his sire. “Dramatic as always.”

“Is that why Renee looked like she’d seen a ghost when I asked her about the locked room?” You thank Mrs. Taylor softly, as always, and inhale the beautiful scent of the last pieces of quiche from yesterday — one of your favourite leftovers that you had begged her to save — alongside a fresh salad, a few slices of bacon, and a warm croissant. She has outdone herself, as always.

Your grandfather clicks his tongue at Max, slightly annoyed at making it sound dramatic, even though it is. "I had a room next to Cookie's spell room. It was so that I would not bother her, but I could rest easier closer to her." He frowns slightly, still getting used to talking about his beloved in the past tense.

“Max is going to help me turn the teahouse into a little spell cottage.” The urge to be excited and proud for something you’re sharing with your soulmate is overwhelming, simply because after yesterday morning — and so many years before — there was not much to be excited about. And certainly no family to share anything with.

He smiles, a flash of fang and white teeth. No longer hiding them now that he's not just in your subconscious. "That is wonderful, muñequita." He agrees. "Every witch would have her own space. Your mother preferred her room, no other would do, when she would work on her magic."

“Her room was the one with the silver wallpaper, wasn’t it?” Somehow there is no doubt of that in your mind. The powerful feeling of belonging and comfort you had gotten from it when you first walked through the house now makes perfect sense, and you’re glad that you didn’t choose it for yourself. From now on you can go and sit in your mother’s room when you miss her, and that almost brings happy tears to your eyes. Because gods above, you have missed her so much.

"It was." He smiles as he realizes you must have felt a connection to the room. A presence. Since his daughter had passed, he had hoped that the feeling of her spirit - her early spirit - would remain. It and you were all he had left of his beloved child. "The portait hanging above the bed is your mother, nieta. She was twenty when it was painted."

“Abuela kept it close.” It isn’t even a question. You understand completely that that is how it ended up in the bedroom that once belonged to your grandmother and is now yours. “Was it for when she came out? Or…did Mom ever have anyone? Before Dad, I mean?” It’s a delicate topic but an important one, and something pulling at the back of your mind pushes you to ask it now instead of waiting.

“Your mother had a soulmate that she was with.” The memory makes him frown, his brow furrowing slightly.

“She did?” That is startling news, considering she always told you that she didn’t have one. But apparently there are a great many things your mother didn’t tell you.

"It is probably my greatest regret." There is a dramatic sigh for show from the vampire and he sets his tea cup down. "I, like any parent, made mistakes, muñequita." He admits. "Like Cookie and I, we believed that your mother was destined to be mated with a vampire. By the time she had come - which was a miracle - there was a large coven of witches and vampires. Despite my best efforts, there had been tensions between the two groups." He bites his lip. "Our nature, our bloodlust, craves the blood of a witch more than anything else." He reveals. "It's nearly ambrosia to a vampire and because of that, there had been some hard feelings among the covens because of our...less than responsible vampires."

"You believed she was meant to be mated with a vampire even though there were objections to vampire and witches interacting?" It isn't a judgement call, you're just trying to understand. Apparently your little suburban family with typical holiday dinners (and atypical holidays) was far less typical than you thought. "And Mom...didn't want that?"

"Vampire and witches are stronger together." He tells you quietly. "Especially for us. My line. We were the only ones capable of having children. Of creating a lineage." He sighs again. "She was in love with him. Emanuel was a smart, talented young man. Her mother and I were proud when we discovered they had matching marks."

"So what happened, then? Did something happen to him?" It must have, otherwise your father would have been a very different man. And Yayo wouldn't look so terribly sad.

“I made the mistake of changing him.” He murmurs quietly. “I didn’t do it without his permission. He wanted to become a vampire.” It’s almost as if he was imploring you to believe him.

"But you didn't talk to Mom first?" Though it is only a guess, it is a solid one, and you put your fork down for a moment. "It was a long time ago, Yayo. A very long time ago. I'm not judging you. I just want to understand what happened to my family."

“No, I did not talk to your mother.” He had hoped it would be seen as a gesture on Emanuel’s part. His acceptance of the family he had joined. “Unfortunately, your mother’s blood called to him. He tried to drink from her and she—” he winces. “She destroyed her soulmate.”

“Gods.” If you had been holding anything you would have dropped it instantly. Your mother killed her soulmate over bloodlust. That makes you stammer for a moment before all you can do is reach for Max’s hand and try not to shudder at the idea. You know Max would never hurt you. He’s proved that. He’s your port in the storm. “I’m so sorry, Yayo.”

"She blamed me. As she should have." He watches as you reach for Max and it soothes him in a way that he would never be able to explain. Your soulmate is a vampire and yet you are still drawn to him, comforted by him. "I had not yet learned how to bring one of my protégé back, so he was lost to us."

“Thank you for learning.” Your hand tightens around Max’s subtly, fingers flexing and keeping his grip. “For…making sure Max was here for me when I needed him.”

"Of course, muñequita." He nods his head seriously. "You should have met him years before and I cannot fix the past, but I could make sure you would meet him."

“And you have no idea how much that means to me.” He has no idea of what you’ve been through. What has gone on in your life between childhood and now. But at least you can say to his face that you’re grateful.

“I spent many years trying to find the way to fix my mistakes.” He murmurs quietly. “I am afforded the luxury of time, so I decided to put it to good use.”

“They did raise me a witch.” It’s the most reassurance you can give him, since your parents did not give you even a hint of the reality of vampires in the world. They had taught you magic, yes, but you had never had a real talent for spell work. “I’m sorry to ask you all of these things all at once. I just…I guess I don’t understand why we haven’t been in contact since the accident?” Allison had told you something about helping Cookie break a powerful spell, and that that was why she chose to stop drinking Yayo’s blood. But you still don’t quite understand.

“Your mother, while she wished to be human,” he sighs again. “Was a powerful witch. Some of her own talents far surpassing even her mother’s.” He picks up a few of the nuts and rolls them around in his hand. “There is a spell, a protective barrier, that would keep anyone away until the blood price has been paid.” He stares at you solemnly. “Death.”

“She really didn’t want me involved in all of this…” Something which is both stunning and rather appalling to you, considering coming to Newport might truly have saved your life. Who knows what might have happened to you if you had had to live in your car in Tennessee. Knowing that your sweet, steadfast mother was angry enough with her parents to separate you for life is daunting.

“Your mother…” he doesn’t wish to speak ill of the dead, and especially of the daughter that he had loved for centuries and will continue to love until he is destroyed. “Was very much human in the fact that she was not infallible, none of us are.” He doesn’t wish for you to hold a grudge against her, even as he tries to explain things. “I pushed too hard and tried to see you again after that last memory I showed you. That was when she cast the spell.”

“A spell that kept you and abuela away…and made me think that I made you up?” That is a remarkably impressive spell, you will admit it freely. Your mother’s abilities must have been far greater than you could ever have dreamed.

“Yes.” He bites his lip. “It was one that took us a long time to even figure out what she had used and even longer to discover the key to breaking it.” He reaches out and touches your hand. “Your abuela left you a letter, in case these truths ever came to light.”

“I would like to read it. If it’s not too much trouble.” A few of Cookie’s own words might be wonderful, if you’re honest. Though you do already feel the fullness in your mind off memories beginning to resettle now that you realize they are memories and not only your imagination. “It…doesn’t have to do this moment. It will take some time to process all of this.”

“Whenever you feel like it.” He promises, smiling indulgently at you. “I will have them placed in your room for when you are ready.”

“I’m…” There isn’t technically any reason to feel this way, but you still squeeze his cold hand gently. “I’m sorry we were apart so long.”

“Muñequita, do not feel guilty.” He chides softly, aware of that expression on your face. “It is I who am the guilty one. You have suffered for so long because I could not find you. I could not reach you.”

“It isn’t your fault that I was in a bad situation. Or Max’s either.” Acutely aware that Max views himself as responsible for that entire situation because he had been expelled that night, you won’t hear of it for even a second. “It seems like this is a new beginning for all of us.” New, aside from the specter of your ex-boyfriend that now hangs over Newport.

“Though I hear you had a visitor yesterday.” Your grandfather’s youthfully middle aged face drops unhappily and his eyes darken fiercely.

“I—” Mistaking his displeasure for anger directed at you, your eyes stop to the table instantly. “He was not invited,” you defend immediately, not wanting anyone to get in trouble on your account.

He pauses when he realizes that you think he is upset at you. “Yes, this…Derek will be dealt with.” He promises you. “Although I do not understand why you will not let your soulmate kill him.”

“Because I don’t believe that murder is ever the answer. Regardless of the question.” Suffering, pain, death — none of it. You’ve lived several lifetimes of all that hurt and you would be happy to never have another second of it near you.

“Kind and empathetic.” He hums, not displeased with the idea at all. “I will promise you this—” he taps your hand gently. “If he harms you again, nothing on this earth or in hell will protect him from me.” It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. A pact to repay every hurt he has ever bestowed upon you tenfold.

“I will say if I am hurt or not.” That is the bargain you will make. To make your grandfather feel as though the door is open, though you need intend to go through it.

His eyes narrow for a moment in contemplation and he nods. “Agreeable.” He decides.

******

For the rest of your meal, he answers your questions, never shying away from the answers and it surprises Max. His sire has always been elusive at times, and yet, he is very succinct with you. Perhaps it is because of the want to keep you close.

After he leaves you, your grandfather goes back to the tower. The locked room beyond Cookie’s potion room now opened. The mahogany box retrieved from a shelf and his fingers brush over the inlaid gold. The letters are inside. Lovingly preserved for you. His soulmate had taken to writing you at least once a week since deciding that she would sacrifice herself to break what she viewed as a curse. Her thoughts, hopes, memories all immortalized in ink, her familiar script beautiful as he opens the box and lifts a letter to his nose, inhaling the scent of her perfume. “You would have loved her, Cookie.” He murmurs sadly. “She’s stronger than all of us.”

******

The cadence of his footsteps is unfamiliar, and nearly nonexistent, but you know it’s him coming into the library a few minutes after breakfast has ended without ever having to look up. Mrs. Taylor has left menus for you to approve and Max is outside at the teahouse with Mr. Taylor — and Renee is altogether too bright and sunshiny for such a quiet entrance. But when Yayo appears holding a beautifully and intricately carved box in his hands, the arrival is near-silent and solemn.

“I had considered leaving these in your rooms.” He admits quietly, his voice low and soothing like it always is. “But then, I did not know if you would want that.”

“Would you…” you push the tray of menus aside, knowing that Mrs. Taylor won’t object to getting them later today. Not when these letters are so important. “Want to sit with me? While I read some?”

“I would be delighted.” Silently and much faster than Max, he moves over to you with the box.

The letter box is lacquered mahogany, trimmed in gilded dragons done after the Chinese style in what you now know intimately as chinoiserie — a Gilded Age specialty. It’s yet one more thing in this house that someone else would sell for a fortune at auction and instead you cling to it desperately as a connection to your family’s past. The key that he has left resting on top fits neatly into the lock and you open the box with a small smile as you bite your lip in concentration. The box is very old, after all, and delicate. What’s inside, though? Dozens of letters. Some thick and some thin. All stamped with blood red wax and addressed to you. “There’s…so many of them…”

“My late soulmate was a woman who loved to write letters.” He admits, his smile wistful. “There is a trunk of letters she had written to your mother while we were…estranged.” He reveals. “At one point after learning of her death, she had thought to burn them all, but could not.”

“The accident wasn’t easy for anyone,” you admit, glad to see him pull up a chair beside the large library desk with you instead of pacing anxiously or giving you distance. There has been so much distance for so long — all you want now is to keep him close. “I almost withdrew my place in college and just stayed closed up in the house. But I knew they wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“No, they wouldn’t have.” As much as he regrets not being there for you, he admires your courage. You might not think so, but you have been extremely strong-willed through the last ten years.

“And these are…all for me?” It seems incredible to you, that anyone would have spent so much time and effort just thinking of you, but the reality of things has been so different than what you thought they were for your entire life that it bears a sort of…reinspection.

“Yes.” He smiles at the box. “She would sit at her writing desk and talk to me about you. Wondering what you were like, how you were doing.”

“What was your favorite thing to imagine?” There is no way they could have guessed the truth, and that is your comfort. That you hope they never feared for you.

“You used to love to dance.” Your grandfather hums. “We spent hours dancing in your living room when you were small. We used to imagine you dancing. Laughing as you were guided along the dance floor.”

“I stopped for a long time.” You admit, not ashamed of the fact although you’re ashamed of the reason. It’s just what happened. It was your life for many years. “But I’ve started again…because of Max.”

“That’s brilliant.” His eyes sparkle in delight and his lips quirk up in a pleased smile. “You were so happy to learn when you were just a baby.”

“I loved ballet.” The slipper blanket still in your room is proof enough of that, and you smile. “But I do love ballroom more. And Max did danced competitively in college. It’s…honestly so nice to be able to share that with him.”

“It was my rule for the school that all students must take an elective that was creative.” He tells you with a dramatic flip of his hand. “I think it appealed to him because I was teaching the class and your soulmate is a bit of a suck up.”

“So you teach, then?” Ignoring the comment about Max — because you used to be a little bit of a suck up in dance class, too — you leave the letter chest closed and focus on Yayo. “In Romania?”

“That is how I discovered your soulmate, Muñequita.” He hums. “When I saw the birthmark, a mark I would know anywhere, I knew. I knew I had to take him under my wing.”

“I’m so grateful that you did.” If not for Yayo, who knows who Max’s sire would have been? Who knows how you ever would have found him again?

“I made mistakes with him as well.” He can admit that, flashing a fangy smile. “I let him get too arrogant. But he has learned his lesson.”

“According to him, he was already arrogant,” you tell your grandfather. “But he says that his attitude has changed enormously since you brought him back.”

“It has.” He agrees with Max’s assessment of himself completely. “This house, his stay here has been good for him.”

“This house has been good for me, too.” Yesterday morning notwithstanding, of course.

“Of course it has.” To imagine anything else would be unbelievable. “Despite your mother’s ill feelings, I had this house built to be a refuge, a haven, if you will.”

“Mom didn’t like having her hand forced. I didn’t understand it then, but I do as I get older.” It makes you shrug, though, not wanting to start an argument with your grandfather. “But this house has certainly been a haven for me. So thank you.”

“If I could have done things differently, I would have.” He admits quietly. “I would have bitten my tongue and realized my daughter’s dreams for life weren’t mine for her.”

“Regretting and wishing can’t bring them back,” you murmur, voice finding the same tenor as his. “If it could, we would have had my parents back immediately.”

“You are right.” He reaches out and pats your hand. “You are as wise as you are beautiful.”

“I have had a lot of time to think it over. Not as much as you, of course, but…” A slight shrug of your shoulders comes as your hand runs over the box in front of you again. “There is so much I would say to my mother if I could see her again.”

His smile turned mysterious and he hums. “Think of what you would say to her, Muñequita. Never forget it.”

“I wish she could meet Max.” The thought had already occurred to you more than once, and as much as it hurts you also have to believe that she’s watching over you with your father beside her. “I think they would enjoy teasing each other.”

“She had a robust sense of humor.” He chuckles. “Perhaps one day you will know what she thinks.”

“It would be too wonderful for words, I think.” Dwelling on it for too long threatens to drown you in a wave of sadness, and your expression flickers — faltering slightly. “But I can dream.”

Sensing that you might want some space, he pats your hand again and stands. “I think I will go have Mrs. Taylor bring you up a pot of tea while you go through your abuela’s letters.” He decides.

“Thank you, Yayo.” Your hand catches his, squeezing his fingers tight for a moment before letting it go again. “For everything.”

“It is my pleasure and my duty.” He nods and bows slightly before disappearing from sight.

The box in front of you is full to bursting, and when you open the lid it is clear that some letters consist of a single page while some are self-contained novelas. They seem to be stacked in order of writing, but not with any semblance of order in the time between each letter. Selecting the first — a single sheet neatly folded, waxed, and dated — you carefully slip the seal and open the paper.

My Darling Girl— It has been a month and a week since we visited you last, making today your ninth birthday. I hope it is joyful, sweetheart, and that you know how very dearly your grandfather and I love you. When we see you again we will bring your gift and heaps of books, and your grandfather will dance with you until you are too exhausted even to laugh. And it will do my heart so much good to see you both reunited. You are the magic of our hearts, darling, and always will be. But in case this letter is only the first of many you will not see until you are a grown woman, know that we are thinking of you and missing you every day. And that we are so proud of you, no matter what path you choose each day. Happy birthday, darling girl. We love you. Granny Cookie

The heavy vellum paper is quite old, the scrawling, looping handwriting a work of art. Cookie had whimsically decided that your letters would be written with a quill, like she would have before. Making it a labor of love.

There are so many that it seems daunting, and something tells you not to read them in order but that might just be a response to how many there are. You’re still toying with the box, though, when Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway with a tea tray.

“Your grandfather said you might enjoy some tea while you read.” She smiles as she walks inside. “I took the liberty of making Cookie’s favorite tea for you.”

“You’ve known the entire time.” Far from being angry or accusatory, there is awe in your voice. Her loyalty and steadfastness to your grandparents is astonishing.

“I have.” She doesn’t apologize, her smile softening slightly. “It has been hard not to mention your mother, since you look so like her.”

The tea tray she sets down on the desk beside you is sparse, but Mrs. Taylor never brings * only* tea. There is a plate of scones today, with jam and butter. “Did you ever meet me before?” You ask cautiously, unsure if you had ever even been to this house as a child or if the housekeeper had ever traveled with your grandparents. “When I was young?”

“We have met before.” She answers vaguely, a curious twist to her lips. “There was a time we spend quite a bit of time together.”

“I wish I could remember.” It must have been when you were just a baby, considering that first letter from your abuela was at your ninth birthday. “I wish I could remember this house. Or visiting here.”

“A side effect of the spell.” She murmurs quietly. “It’s as if this house never existed to you before now.”

“I knew my mother was powerful, but I guess I never really knew how much.” There were always signs of it growing up, and of course your father has considerable magic as well, but this is a level far beyond what you knew was possible. “But…I never knew she was half-vampire, either. I suppose there was quite a lot they kept from me.”

“Your mother…” she sighs softly, a sound just for you. It had been amazing learning how to do those things again when you don’t need to breathe. It conveys so much. “Always looked at the other side of the field and admired the grass there. Even though her side was perfectly lush.”

“She wanted to explore.” Even as young as you were when she died, you know that. “Explore new experiences and meet new people. The more and the more different, the better.”

“She had been that way for her entire life.” Mrs. Taylor hums, happy that she had never lost her spark. “She was the first of her social circle to wear pants when it was so terribly taboo.”

“I can see her doing that. Being a rabble rouser.” In fact, from alternative choices at bake sales to extra adventures on field trips, your mother was always ready for anything. For a long time, you had wanted to grow up to be just like her. Fearless.

“Despite that, she broke many hearts when her soulmate was found.” She tells you. “She had quite the number of gentleman callers before.”

“Dad always joked that he had to treat Mom like a princess because there would always be another guy who would if he didn’t.” Mostly those jokes had been to encourage you to look for someone who would treat you the same, but you hadn’t really understood that at the time. Now, you think it might be a big part of why your father might have approved of Max. “So I can see that.”

“That is true.” She agrees. “I did not get to know your father well, but he seemed like he was a good man. He loved your mother, that was obvious.”

“He did.” You nod, agreeing with that statement easily. “He loved her more than anything else in the world.”

“Then that is all that matters.” While she’s sure that her soulmate would have been amazing, she’s not lived for as long as she had without knowing that you don’t have to be a soulmate to love someone completely.

“They were wonderful together.” It warns a small, almost wistful sigh from you and you smile. “Completely wonderful.”

******

Max had not meant to leave you alone all day. After breakfast with his sire, he had gone off with Mr. Taylor to look at the Tea House. Looking had turned into doing and half the afternoon was gone before he realized. Strolling into the morning room, he grins when he finds you still reading letters, happy to see you enjoying yourself. Carefully handling the folded and wax sealed paper as if it were precious, because it is to you. “How many secrets did the old bird spill?”

“You’re never going to believe some of the stuff she wrote out for me.” Having moved from the library after tea to the window seat in the morning room, you’ve been basking in the near-sunset while you read uninterrupted. But now that Max is back inside? You shift to one side of the seat and sit up, making room for him to join you. “She wrote down as much as she could stand to, I think. Sometimes just little notes and sometimes pages upon pages.”

Max plops down next to you in a graceless flop that would have looks undignified by anyone else. He makes it look almost elegant in its casualness. “So it’s like a journal….in letters?” He asks curiously, peeking at the script of the one you are holding.

“Kind of.” You nod and shift closer to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne when he puts one arm around you. Since vampires don’t sweat, the only underlying scent is the intensely powerful sunscreen he wears everyday to keep from being affected by the sun. Enchanted, according to him. “Some of these are stories about my mom. Others are talking about powers she suspects I might have had, or would be able to develop. Others are just memories. Sometimes she even wrote down stories about her and Yayo.”

“Really?” His eyes widen and he playfully waggles his brows. “Don’t know if you should be reading those.” He teases.

“They’re not intimate stories.” You pinch Max with two fingers and laugh, feeling lighter this afternoon than you thought you would be able to. “They’re my grandparents.”

“Uhhhh, hate to tell you, babe…” Max grins even wider, happy you are laughing and smiling. “Grandparents fuck.” He snorts. “Otherwise there would be no parents to have the grandkids and make them grandparents.”

“Yes, they do.” The way you roll your eyes is just for show, playing along with his teasing. “But they don’t typically tell those stories to their twelve-year-old granddaughters.” The letter you happen open to be holding is on the thicker side, dated the summer you were twelve. “Usually.”

He snickers and shrugs. “It would be a lot cooler if they did.” He jokes. “Let the g-kids know how hip they were at one time.”

“I think I would have been horrified to hear that when I was twelve,” you tell him honestly. “I was a very innocent kid.”

“Very innocent, huh?” He leans in and kisses your cheek. “We’ll change that, Queenie.”

“I was an innocent kid.” The last word gets emphasis, and you tilt your head to kiss his lips as of that proves some sort of point. “I don’t think what we did the other night counts as innocent in the least.”

“Just a little harmless grinding.” His grin turns positively wicked. “It’ll be less innocent when my ‘no need to breathe’ face is planted in your pussy for hours on end until you can’t take another orgasm.”

It should be abundantly obvious from the shock on your face that you hadn’t yet put that puzzle together, and the heat in your cheeks radiates off you in waves. “Yep…” you manage to swallow finally and half-nod. “That will be…not innocent at all.”

The chuckle he gives is filthy, accompanied by a wink. “So I was thinking about another date tonight.”

"You were?" the suggestion lights you up immediately, although it is tinged with that unfortunate but real paranoia. "Did you have something in mind?"

“I know you love to dance, but I don’t want to be a one trick pony.” Max hums, leaning in against you. “So I thought we could be disgustingly cliché. There’s a pumpkin patch, with a corn maze and a ‘haunted hayride’.” He puts air quotes around the last portion. “They do all the cutesy shit and sell hot chocolate. I thought you would love it.”

“Are you going to protect me from all the jump scares and fake vampires?” It’s your own small brand of teasing, because even though you love horror movies as an adult there is something about jump scares in real life that is less fun and more anxiety-inducing. The one thing you do know, though, deep in your heart? Is that Max will protect you no matter what.

“Absolutely.” Max practically giggles. “Gotta show off so your little pussy throbs at what a strong, manly vamp I am.” He winks to show that he’s teasing, but he would protect you from anything.

“And you can smell it, so I can’t even pretend like it doesn’t affect me.” Which, admittedly, could be slightly embarrassing. But for some reason Max being so in tune with your emotions is a wicked turn on.

“You can pretend it doesn’t affect you at any time.” He hums. “Just because you’re turned on, doesn’t mean you are in the mood, sweetheart.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Although he does have a point, and you appreciate him acknowledging it out loud. “I was thinking more like…it’s harder to play innocent. Since I kind of have an inkling that you might enjoy that sort of thing.”

“Hmmmmm but I like when someone plays hard to get.” He admits with a grin. “Knowing they want me but making me chase is just as thrilling.”

“So this works for you perfectly then, I guess?” It’s one less thing to have on your mind, if he’s telling the truth. And Max has never given you any reason to think he would lie. “You probably love those great big doe eyes some girl have. The innocence and purity of it all.”

“I like your eyes.” He flirts shamelessly. “They are the prettiest I’ve ever gotten lost in.”

“I’m already yours, ya know.” Despite the protest, you absolutely melt in his arms and become a puddle against his chest. “You don’t have to flirt.”

“I want to flirt.” He promises. “Flirting is good for the body, mind and soul.” He announces. “It makes you feel good, makes you feel wanted and it makes you easier to kiss.” He teases, turning his head and kissing your nose.

“In that case?” You could not be more putty-like in his arms if he had been literally kneading your shoulders. “What time do you want to go out tonight? Because hay rides and pumpkins and chilly fall things with you sounds like a dream.”

“Six? Six-thirty?” He asks. “That way we still have plenty of daylight to pick out pumpkins? I know you will want one or two.”

“That’s perfect.” You would probably put a pumpkin or two in every room of the house if you could, but that sounds like a mess waiting to happen. “Do you want to sit with me for a little bit or do you have something you want to do before then?” It’s about a hour and a half away, and there are so many more letters from your grandmother to read. The box seems never ending. It might even be enchanted to hold extra, you can’t tell.

“I’m right here until we change,” he promises. “I’m thinking this will be our casual date. Leggings, boots, for you of course.”

“Maybe we can alternate?” It’s just a small idea, but knowing that he loves to dress up and make a splash and you aren’t typically as well dressed as he is lets you both have moments of fun and moments of relaxation. “Something fancy and something casual?”

“That sounds good to me, Queenie.” He flashes you a grin. “Can’t hurt and it’ll keep you from getting bored.”

“I have a feeling I’ll never be bored with you.” It’s just a feeling, but it’s right in the back of your mind and hovering over your heart, so it’s undeniable.

“It’s because I’m incredible.” He boasts, but it’s all just an act. His thigh is pressed against yours and he looks over at the letters. “Want to read me one? Or is it something you’d rather keep to yourself for now?”

“I think it’s safe to say that my family is your family…since my grandfather is literally your sire and all.” It does sort of call the structure of vampire families into question in your mind, but that is a detail you will ask Yayo about later on. “You can read the next one. That sounds nice.”

“You want me to read it to you?” He asks, brow raised at the thought. “I will.”

“I like your voice,” you admit sheepishly, sinking down in his arms a little in a rush of embarrassment. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Oh no, you aren’t getting out of it now.” He teases, reaching into the box and selecting a letter. “Hmmmm, how does this one look?”

“Perfect.” Every time he shows such amusement or happiness at little compliments from you, you feel that same skip in your heart that you’re starting to think might become a permanent fixture in your life. Max never ceases to surprise you with his affection and it really is wonderful.

“Puuuuurrrrrfect.” He rolls his ‘r’ playfully as he slides a neatly manicured nail under the wax seal and breaks it. Stopping and shuddering before he looks over at you. “Did you feel that?”

“It’s just a little chilly in here.” You explain it away instinctively, not even realizing that a breeze would have no effect on Max whatsoever.

“Sppppooooooky.” He’s playing it up, but there had been a current to the air when he broke the seal on this letter. Clearing his through is purely perfunctory as he opens the stiff paper. “My darling Muñequita,” he begins and says the date.

This is a later letter, something from you were a teenager. Max must have gone deep into the box. You hum happily at that and snuggle into his side like a cat.

“You really are the cleverest witch I have seen in my time. And considering how old I truly am, that is saying something.” He tilts his head and glances up at you before looking back at the letter. “To think that the answer was right in front of us, just a few words difference is simply magical, pardon the pun.”

“Are you sure this one is addressed to me and not my mom?” Though the question is rhetorical, there is also a nugget of truth to it. You haven’t done any sort of remarkable magic in years.

“It says it’s to you.” He huffs, flipping it back over so you can see the way it’s addressed. “Hush.” He blows you a raspberry. “Take the compliments. Now where was I?” He scans the page again. “For centuries, we had just believed that it was a myth, as fanciful as that sounds. Time travel. Who would have believed H.G.Wells was a witch?”

“I’m sorry.” Sitting up ramrod straight in an instant, your eyes go wide. “Did you just say time travel?”

“Are you always this disruptive?” Max teases as he waves the letter at you. “It’s right here. Do you want to read it for yourself?”

“But time travel is impossible!” Managing to snatch the letter from his hand, you settle back in his arms with a furrowed brow and your two front teeth firmly biting down on your lower lip as you reread what he had just read out loud. “Who would have believed H.G. Wells was a witch? Of course, everyone know that magic, alchemy, and science are all the same thing. But not everyone knows how to harness it to emotion. But you are such a clever thing, we ought to have suspected that you would find a way.”

“Sounds like someone did something.” Max intones, his voice playful, but he’s impressed.

“I can’t imagine what. By the time this was written, they hadn’t been allowed to see me in more than six years.” Still, the pull of this particular letter is far too strong, and you turn back to it with curiosity. “It took us an embarrassingly long time to understand it fully, Muñequita, but once we did you cannot imagine how foolish we felt for not seeing it years before.”

“Wow...incredibly intriguing.” Max snorts, impatient as always. “Like- what did you do? I wanna know.”

"I'm disruptive and you're impatient," you tease, but you keep reading. "To know that you managed to visit us from your time is remarkable beyond words. And how clever you were not to let us know, to never have even given us a whiff. You have your Yayo's talent for keeping secrets, darling girl, and we are so proud of the power you have finally come to. We will keep the portrait you so graciously left with us in the house and I will display it proudly for all of my days, telling anyone who asks that my granddaughter has a warm and loving heart and a doting, charming husband."

“Husband?” His own eyes widen slightly and his lips curve into a slow grin. “Something I should know, Queenie?”

“At the moment you know exactly as much as I do.” Your hand is practically shaking with the letter in it, but the slightly smug, pleased grin on his face makes you huff out a laugh. “I have no idea!”

“Wellllllll, now we have a mystery to talk about.” Max chuckles. He knows that you don’t know, but it’s intriguing.

“If I had to guess?” Being the kind of little kid — and sometimes adult — that had dreamt yourself into every possible and impossible kind of situation, you avoid his eyes slightly when you shrug. “If this is true, then you must have been there, too. I wouldn’t call anybody else that, and depending on when we went to, dating doesn’t exist. It’s married or unmarried, and an unmarried woman has a hell of a lot more restrictions on how she can act than a married one.”

“That would be interesting.” He snorts and shrugs. “I promise I won’t demand my husbandly rights if you’re correct.”

“Maybe we’ll actually be married by the time it happens, who knows?” It’s such a ludicrous ides that you can’t really take it seriously in the first place, and you shrug. “Besides, it’s time travel, honey. It’s not true. It can’t be.”

“And vampires don’t exist.” Max reminds you with a grin. “It’s so unbelievable that you would go back in time to visit with your granny when your soulmate doesn’t have a pulse and drinks blood?”

He has, frustratingly, a very good point. So much so that it makes you pause with your mouth already half-open to a pithy reply and shut it again with a furrowed brow. “I guess…” you swallow a deep breath. “If I wear every going to visit anyone…”

“She would be the one to visit.” Max finishes for you. “I wonder when you visit her. Obviously you haven’t yet.”

“After Mom was born.” You can answer that easily, even if your voice is quiet. “Any time when Mom was young. I always wondered what she was like as a young woman…and she never liked to tell stories. I get why, now. How could she rephrase a story about the 1870s to make it sound like modern life?” The idea of seeing your mother again is painful it’s so sweet, and you sniffle quietly, burying your face in your free hand. “I miss her so much.”

“I know you do.” Max hums thoughtfully after a moment. “You can’t have gone to the past when she would remember it, would you? Otherwise, she might have done things differently in life, right?”

“I guess…it would have to have been long enough ago that she wouldn’t have a strong memory of me. Or at least that she would never make the connection.” It feels like such a weird thing to contemplate, but Max is looking down at you so intently that you find yourself just spinning in the idea. Trying to follow the thought all the way through. “And I certainly wouldn’t use my real name. It would be Dolly. Or Queenie.”

“When we time travel, don’t use your real name, got it.” He gives you a thumbs up and snorts playfully. “Can I have a code name too?”

“Sure.” If you do roll your eyes at him it’s all in good fun and teasing. “What do you want your code name to be? James Bond?”

“Bond.” He imitates with an English accent. “James Bond.” He laughs and shakes his head.

He is laughing, which has you giggling, and you shake your head at him in pure amusement. “I genuinely can’t tell if that’s a yes or no,” you tease.

“I would need something way cooler.” He huffs and smirks at you. “Something that is subtly acknowledging my sexual magmatism.”

“Bruno?” Just about anything would be silly, and you can’t resist his smirk anyway. “Should we call you Jean-Claude van Damme?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Romania, not Austria, babe.”

“What would you like to be called?” What he wants is more important than anything, after all. At least, it is to you.

“I was just teasing, sweetheart.” He promises. “Call me Max, I promise it’ll be alright with me.”

"We won't ever need to worry about it." You're certain of that, somehow. Even with the evidence sitting right there in your hand.

“With this discovery, do you still want to go out?” He asks quietly. If you’d rather read more letters, he wouldn’t blame you.

“I think I need some time to adjust to the idea,” you admit, putting the letter down without finishing it. It’s taking up so much space in your mind that you feel as if you might explode. “Maybe I’ll shower before we go out? I know we said tonight is going to be casual but I still want to look nice for you.”

“Go shower, sweetheart.” He encourages you. “Or better yet, go soak in that claw foot tub.”

“Yeah?” It’s a very soothing idea, and you have to agree that it might do you a world of good. All the same, though, you don’t want to be too far from Max. “Are you going to go back out to the tea house?”

“No.” He can sense your unease, and he quickly decides that he will stay nearby. “I’m going to go see if my jeans still fit.” He jokes with a grin. “Haven’t worn them in a long time. No need to, until now.”

“I know you’ll be very handsome in whatever you choose.” It is touching, though, that he is dressing down for you. Because you know that his suits are his suits of armor.

“I know the leather jacket is what you’ll focus on.” He jokes, winking at you.

If you could stop yourself from blurting it out you would have, but your immediate reaction is an unapologetic: “You have a leather jacket?”

His eyes light up when you give yourself away and he nods. “Yep.” He hums, leaning in to you, crowding you slightly. “Black leather.”

“That…” When you swallow it’s slightly embarrassed but interested all the same. “That sounds nice.”

“Does it?” He rubs his hand down your arm. “That’s good. Maybe we’ll see how you look in it tonight when you get cold.”

The thought of being marked as his in any way makes you burn in the most unexpectedly lustful way, and you clear your throat before standing up. “I going to go take a cold bath.”

“You do that, sweetheart.” Max reaches out and pats your hip. “I’ll be here when you get out.” He pauses. “Better yet, I’ll be at your door when you’re ready.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound @nastiasnow @vabeachazn @oberynslady @grogusmum @kittenlittle24 @8-900 @survivingandenduring @ktmadden86 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sweetnsaltyclussy

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance #The Thief #Casillero del Diablo #magic #witch reader

157 notes · View notes

lost-in-fandoms · 13 days

Note

¹⁷⁾ a carabiner heavy with keys❤️

hello friend, I want you to know that this prompt stumped me for quite a while, I just didn't know how to spin it? I started thinking about keys -> doors -> many doors, and I had a zookeeper AU in my brain, but also a college student x security guard AU kind of thing, but in the end I went for this. I did take some liberties on the carabiner part.

Max is being guided towards the last row of cells when they bring him in.

He's being held up by two guards, one more behind them carrying an extra torch, head hanging low like he's not fully aware, curls drooping in front of his face in a disheveled mess.

"Ah, yes," the warden says with a smirk, stepping over to open one of the closed doors, "our little thief!"

The cell is dark and damp, with a hole in the middle of the floor and a wooden slab against the wall as a bed, and even from where he's standing in the corridor, Max can feel how oppressive the small space is, air heavy and stale.

The guards throw the man in without much care, ignoring the way he slumps on the floor, unmoving, but the warden chuckles, coming closer to poke him with the tip of his boot.

"Not so smug now, are you?" he taunts.

Max forces himself not to react as he pokes the thief again, trying to keep his face as impassible as the other guards, watching as the guy tries to twist away, moaning pathetically.

"Who is he?" he asks, voice flat and uninterested. His fingers are tightly closed around the ring of keys the warden had passed him earlier, a copy of the one hanging from his belt.

"Just a rat, sneaking around the castle's treasury for far too long." The warden crouches down, grabbing the man's hair and pulling it back, revealing his bruised face. "The guys had a bit of fun, it seems."

The thief opens one swollen eye to look up at him, and for a second Max thinks his face is twisting in pain, but then realises he's smiling, all blood-stained teeth.

"Touching is 5 gold pieces, sweetheart," he rasps out, before spitting at the warden.

Max can't help but flinch when the guy's head hits the floor, but he steels himself for the kick he sees coming, forcing himself to not look away, even as the poor man coughs and gasps on the floor.

"Vermin," the warden grunts, hitting him again for good measure, before finally stepping away. "Hope you've had your taste of fresh air, because this is the last you're going to get."

The thief doesn't answer, curling up more tightly on the floor, his gasps the last thing Max hears before the door closes with a heavy thud.

Max walks down the corridor, trying to remind himself that he has every right to be here, and it would be more suspicious if he sneaked around, The keys jingle at his waist, and the sound itself is enough to make him feel vaguely nauseous, especially as he hears the sounds from inside the cells die down as he walks by, replaced by terrified silence.

Despite his intentions, his steps grow quieter as he walks deeper into the prison, approaching the last rows, and by the time he's in front of the thief's cell his breathing is almost inaudible too, the clinking of his keys the only sound announcing his presence.

He takes a breath before opening the door, checking the end of the corridor just in case someone decided to take a stroll down this way before the actual guards change. It's not illegal what he's doing, not yet at least, but technically he's not supposed to open this door, the meager food they've been throwing being passed through the hatch at the bottom.

The first click of the lock sounds too loud in the quiet corridor, but Max ignores the nerves twisting his stomach and keeps turning the key, pulling the door open as quietly as possible.

The first thing that hits him is the smell. The stale, damp air, now smells even worse, after days of a human being living in it, and he almost has to take a step back, feeling it like a punch in his chest. After that, he sees the thief, a shadow tucked away in one corner.

The sight is enough to make him forget about the smell as he rushes forward, tucking his keys in his pocket to make them less noisy, crouching down in front of him, relieved by the movement of his shoulders.

"Daniel," he whispers, reaching out to touch but worried he'll accidentally scare him, or worse, hurt him. "Daniel, come on, look at me."

"You're late."

Max feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest hearing Daniel's voice, even if dry and raspy, and he almost laughs with it, finally leaning all the way in to touch his shoulders, helping him sit up.

"I'm sorry," he says, even if he had no real way of getting their work done more quickly. "I have water for you, and a piggyback ride out."

Max is glad he prepared himself before walking in, because it takes all his self-control to not gasp when Daniel finally looks up. The bruises he had seen a few days earlier are now purple and green, the dried blood still caking his cheekbone now a flaky brown, his cheeks sunken and pale.

"Don't look at me like that, I haven't had my beauty sleep," Daniel jokes, voice cracking into a cough by the end of the sentence.

"I hate you," Max says, because saying I love you so much it felt like I was dying when I was watching them throw you in here feels a bit too much at the moment. What he does instead is take out the small flask of water from his pocket, helping Daniel drink, fingers almost tingling where he's touching his skin.

"You got them right?" Daniel asks as soon as he's done, looking slightly better than before.

Max nods, patting the pocket on his chest, under his cloak, where he had hidden the documents he had retrieved from where Daniel had stashed them away. Daniel getting beat up hadn't been in the plans though, and Max is eager to get him out of there as soon as possible.

"Come on, it's not long until the watch changes."

He helps Daniel stand up, then climb on his back, leaving his hands free, just in case.

"I'm going to give you so much food," he tells him, feeling how much lighter Daniel has become in just a few days.

"You better."

Max closes the door of the cell behind them, taking a moment to wrap the keys up in an handkerchief before putting them back in his pocket. He knows that there's no way to make it seem like he's not smuggling Daniel out, so he's not taking any chances of the damned keys betraying them when he's trying to be quiet. Then he takes a deep breath, makes sure Daniel is secure on his back, and starts making his way to safety.

#maxiel #my writing #i am not happy with this but oh well #i turned all three concepts around too much in my head and ended up not satisfied with nothing #i hope this is at least decent i can't read it back or i know i will delete it all #so if there are typos just scroll on #the last like 200 words took longer than all the rest i just couldn't figure out an ending #whatever!!! it's whatever!!!!!! i'm letting it go!!!!#thank you to everyone who sent in prompts!#i wrote a lot in the past two days and it was nice to make my brain work in many different universes <3

48 notes · View notes

toomanytookas · 4 months

Text

Pedro Scouts Badge Roundup

My boring fact for the Summer Camp Sharing Circle was that I really like drinking water (and I've finally made it over the 10 badge threshold), so I feel like it's a good time to actually post how I've been collecting my @pedroscouts badges, which is on a virtual version of my ever-trusty water bottle!

We're visiting the beach because it was one of my favourite field trips when I would go to camp as a kid. 🌊

How have I earned my badges? Some of the reasons have a bit of a spoiler to them, so I'm hiding them under a cut (and have noted where the spoiler is so you can look away if desired)!

Current badges: 32

Badge of Highest Merit

😭🥹💕JDF is peeking in on my badge post because he’s very proud he got me this badge! I’m delighted to have earned it doodling him for Cabin 1: The Pedge Patrol!

Character Badges

Dieter - I'm finally caught up on replying to comments on The Gift, so I'm celebrating that by claiming the badge. Not only is it a Dieter fic, but it borrows the lovely world of @schnarfer's Dieter series, If Wishes Came True 🛁

Frankie - Sometimes you gotta explore the origins of a character and @chronically-ghosted's most recent Frankie definitely devastatingly does the trick 👻

Joel - I am obsessed with @janaispunk's ongoing series, safe and sound ✨

Max Phillips - brandyllyn's Frat Lestat series

Jack Daniels - something-tofightfor's On Deck

Din Djarin - djarins-cyare's Never Look Down

Genre & Trope Badges

Fluff & Smut - This badge is dedicated to my reblogs of @burntheedges's Maintenance Request. 🧡

Slow burn - My claim of this badge is for my comments on @secretelephanttattoo's Afterword. 💜

Only one bed - SPOILER ALERT - I was tickled to realise @freelancearsonist's Heart of the Cards meant that I earned this badge without expressly planning to! 💙

Songfic - katareyoudrilling's Javi G + Mahler

Hurt/Comfort - schnarfer's Nicest Things - Almost

Friends to Lovers - luxurychristmaspudding's On Call

Summer Camp Badges

Art is My Passion - art for Al's Go Your Own Way

Rainbow Tie Dye - luxurychristmaspudding's Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl

Zipline - Adira's Eddie the Vampire Fluffbruary Ficlet

Saddle Up - schnarfer's The Cowboy & The Thief

Summer Camp Activities Sharing Circle | Teamwork | Scavenger Hunt + We Go Hard | Survival Kit |

Extras

Asknado! - I still have a few replies to respond back to, but I did successfully ask 10 questions.

FriendSHIP - I sent a bracelet to Cece and received the lovely one adorning my water bottle from @maggiemayhemnj 💚

Took the Pledge

#pedro scouts

34 notes · View notes

fuckyeahpedropascal · 1 year

Note

Your Pedro Boys matrix things are fantastic and spot on! If you haven’t already done it, may I suggest the underpants (or lack there of!!) matrix?

Pedro boys underwear matrix

Sweet anon! I'm sorry this request took so long. I actually made the matrix super quickly, but didn't have time to write the commentary. I had an absolute blast making this one, thank you so much for sending it in! If you're not familiar with each underwear type (I definitely was not), here's a cheatsheet.

Debate and discussion encouraged as always!

• Masterlist •

Pedro boys fashion matrix

Pedro boys colour matrix

Pedro boys smoker matrix

Commando

Javier, Oberyn, Ezra, Pero

The only canonical proof we have regarding underwear for Pedro boys is that Javier goes commando, and we thank the writers of Narcos for that. For Oberyn, it's all about easy access, whereas the space/medieval gremlins obviously forgo undergarments because it means more laundry. And they never do laundry.

Briefs

Javi G, Max P, Silva, Nico

We saw how cute Javi G is in his little Speedo's, you can't tell me he doesn't wear briefs. For Max P and Nico, I could just imagine these extra bitches to strut around their home in their briefs. For Silva, he's in the saddle all day, he doesn't want anything longer rolling up as he rides.

Boxer briefs

Frankie, young Joel, Jack, Marcus P

I'm biased here because I prefer boxer briefs on men, and all these boys give me major boxer briefs vibes. Young Joel in particular, just imagine him wearing them with the inside out tshirt when he stumbles out of bed on a morning Sarah's away to visit her grandparents 🫠

Boxers

Dieter, Max L, The Thief, Dave

Dieter is our comfort king, and you know he wears loose boxers under his bathrobe. @imaswellkid made the very valid point that Max L wears pinstripes boxers, so does Dave probably - very dad of them. The Thief definitely wears boxers under a pure silk kimono when he prowls about his mansion.

Midway briefs

Din, older Joel, Marcus M, Tim

Our modest tin can man would probably wear long johns under his flight suit if he could, but since it's not an option, let's say he wears midway briefs. Older Joel is probably (misguidedly) a bit insecure about his dad bod and probably wants some extra support with the extra length on the midway briefs. Whereas for Marcus M and Tim, I don't know why, but I'm imagining them walking around in midway briefs with their respective tac vest and shoulder holsters and I'm feeling pretty good about myself right about now 🫠

333 notes · View notes

rydoggsworld · 1 year

Text

Formula One

2nd list.

MAX VERSTAPPEN 01:

Daddy Issues by @uchi5s summary - more than often, everyone has daddy issues. Two Sides of The Same Coin by @monzabee summary - the one where you try to convince yourself that you're not falling for your teammate, but can't help it when you realise that he is not that different from you after all. Little Verstappen by @lxclerc summary - you think max dislikes you but as it turns out, it's the complete opposite. Daddy Duties by @carpediemm-18 summary - day in the life of max as a girl dad. Daddy Max by @starkwlkr summary - max having a secret child until he didn't. Nsfw Profiling by @ricrodeo summary - title says it all Missed F(l)ight by @inkfablesandstories summary - in which max and his partner fall into an argument about commitment to their relationship before max's flight to bake and there is nothing more than the two of them wanting to be with each other. Long Time Lovers by @libraryofloveletters summary - horner reader loving max through the years.

CHARLES LECLERC 16:

Red Flags by @holllandtrash summary - toxic ex charles, where the reader and carlos are together and charles just couldn't stand that his teammates is with his ex. Reward by @yungbludz summary - in which he gets the reward he deserves... Like Real People Do by @monzabee summary - the one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you. Deal by @golden-cherry (in progress) series summary - your whole life has gone to shit. your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it's his apartment. Why Not Me by @starkwlkr summary - dad charles. So Pretty On Your Knees by @whorekneecentral summary - inexperienced reader doing some frisky things with lover boy. This Is A Relationship, That I Don't Think Anyone Saw Coming by @monzabee summary - the one where you and charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled. La Route Vers Toi by @pitlanepages summary - moments where charles leclerc found himself having questionable feelings for his best friend, you, since he was seventeen. It's never over by @leclsrc summary - you must have lost the plot along the way, because pretending to date your childhood best friend was not on your 2023 bingo card. (neither was the fact that things are looking a lot more real as time passes.) What Could've Been @norrisleclercf1 summary - dad charles realises something. Good For Her by @starkwlkr (social media au) summary - verstappen reader and charles are in love. Monaco Does That To You by @starkwlkr summary - schumacher reader hits charles car after moving there and well, he doesn't realise who she is. Breaking the Bed by @sainz-leclerc summary - charles and you breaking the bed. Ferrari or Redbull by @londonharrington (social media au) summary - reader verstappen and charles have a baby together.

LANDO NORRIS 04:

The Buzzy Little Friend by @paddockbunny summary - a certain mr norris sets panic coursing through you as he asks to stay over the first time. you agree but when he finds something in your drawer that makes you all kinds of embarrassed. he is suddenly wide awake again... and horny, very horny. The Strawberry Lollipop by @spicyclover summary - the lollipop, then your lips. Take It all by @landologs warnings - 18+ Thief - @norrisleclercf1 summary - look at the request. Mistake(s) by @f1goat (9 parts) series summary - in which you keep making the same mistake over and over again by fucking the boy you hate most. Into It by @f1goat (11 parts) series summary - in which you really, really dislike your brothers new found best friend - lando norris - but you keep finding your way back to him. FWB by @f1goat (11 parts) series summary - in which you decide to become friends with benefits with lando norris, that can't be a bad idea right? 6 to 1 by @holllandtrash (12 parts) series summary - being charles' little sister has its perks, such as traveling to the races, meeting a variety of people and becoming friends with the drivers. but when one driver is offended by your personal ranking, he makes it his mission to change your mind. Through The Phone by @landhoesnorris summary - fuckin through the phone. Fantasy by @charlosnorris (social media au) summary - biggest simp on the lando norris simp train, just an ordinary girl living her normal life until she gets noticed by Mclaren's golden boy. Flirty Friends by @landhoesnorris summary - friends don't do that. Keep Quiet by @landhoesnorris summary - lando's best friend, max, is chilling at your place and streaming while you and lando get frisky after a date night. Lost In Japan by @monzamash summary - a convincing late night call and a flight to japan.

LANCE STROLL 18:

Sure, Just Friends by @holllandtrash summary - friends to lovers.

DANIEL RICCIADO 03:

Arguments by @pizza-portal summary - she is upset that he won't give her attention. Nsfw Alphabet by @vividwritinglove summary - title says it all Down Under - @monzamash summary - daniel receives a gift from a friend on the morning of the aus gp. My Yellow by @charlosnorris (social media au) summary - you're not the only two who love your marriage. Girl Crush by @monzabee summary - the one where both you and daniel meet your celebrity crushes in the course of a weekend, and decide to give it a go.

PIERRE GASLY 10:

4th Place by @norrisleclercf1 summary - fluffy story. The Other Side Of The Door by @paddockgirly summary - pierre not being the most faithful boyfriend. To Be With Him by @violetszone summary - you and pierre were very close friends for years, but you liked him and you didn't have the courage to tell him. when he finally broke up with his girlfriend, you decided that you didn't want to hide it anymore. but just when you were going to tell him, he was quick to say what he was going to say. Riding Shotgun by @dilemmaontwolegs (ft. charles) summary - a trip away with your boyfriend takes a turn when your ex comes along. Change of Heart by @fleetwooods summary - pierre the player becomes pierre the lover.

CARLOS SANIZ JR 55:

Tiny Kinks by @vamossainz55 summary - you and carlos feel the few kicks together. Tolerate It by @mastermind123 summary - my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it.

MICK SCHUMACHER 47:

Baby Vettel by @ferrarimounts (social media au) summary - in which mick schumacher and sebastian vettel's daughter soft launch their relationship.

GEORGE RUSSELL 63:

Some Guy by @f1version summary - you and george decide to start soft launching your relationship after your birthday.

#max verstappen x reader #george russel x reader #mick schumacher x reader #lando norris x reader #lance stroll x reader #carlos sainz x reader #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader

346 notes · View notes

qwerty019283ytrewq · 15 days

Text

I came up with it yesterday, well, the details, I came up with it yesterday, the plot itself has been with me for a long time.

It's going to be so sweet now that your teeth will rot in a second, and the plush will tickle your nose for three days. The unicorn is in fear. He knows that he will flood three cities and six villages with shining tears.

✨️Imagine✨️

The story should be about their long for each other. Max and Daniel are still drivers. They are very close friends, but nothing more. heh.

It was a great day off, a break between two races, Max was sleeping the best he could when Daniel decided to ruin his day at 7 a.m. Somehow, magically, Max manages to get out of bed, get to the door, and not kill this jerk. He even notices that Daniel looks pretty at 7 a.m. 7 o'clock in the morning!!! What the hell?!

"Daniel, what are you doing here? Why is it so early? If it's because of the fabric samples for your merch or you went out for a run and decided to take me, then there will be 19 pilots on the starting grid."

"I'm totally fucked." Dan answers, and only now does the Dutch notice that besides looking great, he also looks like he's desperate.

"Isabella wants a princess-style party, and I'm so upset that I'm going to miss everything again...It was such a stupid thought, but I miss them so much, and now she, they're all going to hate me."

"Red Bull"

"What? What the... "

"Give me a drink of Red Bull, and I'll listen to the whole story, not just your lamentations."

That's what it turned out to be. During another call, Isabella said she wanted a birthday party in the style of a Disney princess. Daniel, being gentle and loving, feeling a great sense of guilt that he spends too little time with his family, didn't hesitate to announce that he would bring everyone to Monaco, they would watch the race and after that, Isabella would get her best birthday party.

Only now, Dan doesn't know how to arrange a birthday for a little girl, he doesn't know what kind of princess she is talking about, and if he arranges tickets from Australia to Monaco, passes to the Paddock, then happy holidays...He's so fucked up.

Max sighs and rolls his eyes. Daniel is so soft when it comes to family.

"We'll have to save this, you idiot"

First of all, they decide to find out which princess they are talking about. Rapunzel. Dan says that you can't just figure out the name of the character. You need to understand the essence. So they end up on Max's couch watching a cartoon for little girls. Not even Cars. Or The monster corporation. Rapunzel. He is a Formula 1 racer. He has already won 3 titles and has more than 50 Grand Prix victories. He watches as the chamelion on the screen puts his tongue in the guy's ear, and the girl is afraid to leave the house, although she dreamed about it yesterday. Somewhere on the edge of Max's brain, a question appears. Did seventeen-year-old Dan feel something like that when he left for Europe? And the rest of the mind laughs at one of the portraits of the thief in the cartoon because "Look, Daniel, his nose is very similar to yours!" For the last thought, Max gets a pillow in his face.

A week passes. During this time, Dan managed to book tickets, not without the help of Max, he came up with and organized the whole holiday. Of the guests, however, only the family will be there, but Isabella isn't too upset by this thought. She was promised a chameleon. Michelle, Daniel's sister, really doesn't know about it yet.

During the race weekend, Max arrives at the Red Bull hospitality and realizes from the giggling whispers that the Ricciardo family is already here. Why the giggling whispers, you ask. And you saw Dan with a baby in each hand? That's it. Max, as always (CANON), goes to say hello. Grace hugs and kisses him on both cheeks, Joe shakes his hand tightly and pats him on the shoulder, Michelle and her husband greet, Isaac gives Max a high five, and sweet Izzy stands next to Daniel, looks confused and worried, holds her uncle's hand and looks at Max.

"Hello, Isabella."

"Hi Max."

"Come on, princess, what did you want to say to give to Max?" Dan speaks softly to his niece.

The girl takes a postcard out of her small purse and hands it to Max. For some reason, Daniel also looks worried, as if this is his postcard, and if Max opens it now, it will be written there...Hush, Max... This is just your nonsense...

The postcard is pink and purple, with a yellow sun. Max swallows. He knows this picture. He helped hang a garland with flags with a similar pattern on a yacht rented by Dan for a children's party. He glances at Daniel, who is holding Isabella's hand with one hand and nibbling on the other...More precisely, the cuticle on the thumb. Max opens the postcard, and there are neat but too big children's letters.

The inscription reads: "Sir Max Emilian Verstappen, Princess of the Australian continent from the house of Riccardo (yes, yes, I know that the surname should be different, just skip this), the first of her name, invites you to her birthday." The place on the postcard has run out, so at the very bottom, in small letters (clearly in an adult handwriting, Max kind of recognizes this handwriting), it says "Uncle Daniel will tell you the details."

Max has to clear his throat and blink hard a couple of times.

"This is... this...Thank you, Isabella...Or Your Highness. I...Of course I will come."

Isabella jumps with delight and claps her hands.

"Cool!!! Uncle Daniel will tell you where it will be and when, because I don't know myself yet."

As Dan's family later finds out. And as Max knew from the very beginning. It's a yacht. To Max's taste, it's big and ridiculous, but Isabella squeals with joy.

"Are we going to ride her?!" Her princess dress rustles with expensive fabrics, and flowers made of precious stones sparkle in the light of the lights of the still huge and wonderful yacht.

Daniel also seems childishly excited, grabs his niece's hand, and they finally climb onto the deck. The Australian did his best. He did everything to make Izzy's appearance as similar as possible to the appearance of the princess from the cartoon, and the holiday program was just crazy. Daniel himself put on cream suit trousers and an aquamarine waistcoat to look like Eugene. His curls and nose certainly distinguished him from the cartoon character, but no one objected, especially Max. The Dutch is more surprised how two pieces of clothing from completely different costumes can look so good on Dan. Maybe it's not the clothes. Take it easy, Max, take it easy. He undid one button on his shirt and held out his hand to Grace to help her on board.

The holiday program began with the words, "Do you have a dream, Isabella?" Then it was up to the animators, some group that agreed to play songs from a Disney cartoon, and Daniel's enthusiasm. Grace, Joe, Isaac, Michelle, Tom (let's say that's the name of Michelle's husband in this story), and of course Max also took part in separate programs. Take fencing on pans, for example. Max got so into the taste, and Dan cheated and tickled him so much that Max almost hit him like in a cartoon. Absolutely by accident, honestly.

Max had been to royal receptions before... He likes this one the most. Especially because of how Daniel is beaming with pride and joy that he organized all this. From the yacht to the last apple on the table. Well, it's not like Blake's help wasn't needed at all. And, of course, Dan didn't pull the yacht out of the hat with a magic wand. There's another wizard there. He has a magic snowboard... And the magical wife, who is the sister of Max and Dan's colleague. (Well, you get it)

And here is the most important point. The cake should be served. It should be big and ridiculous, like a yacht. Daniel looks lost, Max knows that he needs to distract Isabella so that the cake can be taken out, but it seems Dan forgot to entrust it to someone.

"I saw a dolphin!" Max speaks and everyone looks at him.

"It can't be! Where?!" Isabelle screams, grabs his hand (because she can't go out on the open deck alone), and pulls him with her onto the open deck. They run out and approach the handrails.

"Where were the dolphins?"

"Somewhere in the water." Well done, buddy, keep it up.

Izzy calms down a little and looks at the water surface.

"It's beautiful here"

"Did you enjoy your holiday?"

"It was so great!!! Do you think Uncle Danny can do something like this for Christmas?"

Before Max can answer, he notices a light behind the girl. It's a paper flashlight... And then another one... And then the music appeared, which was playing faintly in the background, and now it sounds loud and clear.

All those days watching from the windows,

All those years outside looking in All that time never even knowing...

Daniel appears like a dream on deck and... He takes Izzy away to dance. The rest of Riccardo appear on the deck, dancing, in pairs, not in pairs, everything is beautiful, cute and magical, Max stands there and takes his breath away and something gets in his eye. He rubs his eye, and when he looks up again, Dan is standing in front of him, smiling his little, special smile and holding out his hand. And to hell with everything! Max smiles back and accepts his invitation.

They're dancing, the atmosphere is like that... magical... they don't want to say. They just dance, look into each other's eyes, and smile. Max has angels singing in his head. He wants to stay in this moment so much...

All those years living in a blur

All that time never truly seeing

Things, the way they were

Now he’s here shining in the starlight

Now he’s here, suddenly I know

If he’s here it’s crystal clear

I’m where I’m meant to go

Daniel sang

KISS!!!

Max wraps his arms around Daniel's face and KISSES him!!!

When they finally broke away from each other, when they leaned their foreheads against each other...

"You used your niece's birthday to admit that...Well..."

Daniel laughs softly and kisses him on the lips. Someone is tugging at Dan's waistcoat.

"Can we finally call him Uncle?"

This title is more expensive for Max than an officer's.

A month later

"What do you mean it was Isabella's plan?!?!"

#I do not know how it happened #there should have been 10 lines #I just wanted someone to write a nice story for me #I don't even have pictures for that #why do I feel strangely empty?#I'm a little ashamed and scared and confused #* whisper * this is my favorite cartoon #maxiel #max/daniel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #dr3 #mv1 #mv33 #Someone rewrite this please #rookie on tumblr

16 notes · View notes

fariadraws · 2 months

Text

Placebo Effect!

(Inspired by the terrible headache I had this morning. July 24, 2024 — Wednesday.)

Read the story under the cut.

"Uhh, I can't take this anymore...", Eugene's voice was intertwined with pain.

"It will be okay, Eugene", Rapunzel condolenced him. He has been sick from yesterday night. Fever, and headache had confined him to bed. Besides, throwing up all night soaked the last bit of his energy. He seemed fine even in the afternoon yesterday; only thing he complained about was a little headache and then...no, he didn't tell Rapunzel. Maximus sensed first that something was wrong as he was night guarding the corridor and heard groaning from the bedroom of the former thief. In the morning, Max basically pulled Rapunzel toward his room to only discover he was lying on the bed helplessly groaning out of pain and uncomfortableness. Then he threw up in front of her, after giving a soulless smile to his sunshine.

"I'm here, everything's gonna be alright." She assured him again.

"Oh", Eugene could only utter pinching the bridge of his nose.

Rapunzel pulled his hair gently to relieve the headache after kissing his forehead. "Cassandra went to Xavier to bring medicine for you. Only about 10 minutes, and you will be fine." She told him.

"I can't, I can't, I'm dying." Eugene said, groaning, moving restlessly on the bed. Tears started gathering at the corner of his eyes.

"No, you're not, nothing will happen to you, Eugene. Look, I'm taking all your pains", Rapunzel said after touching her head to his.

She looked at the door as she heard the footsteps of the lady in waiting.

"Here, feed him two spoons three times a day after meal." Cassandra spoke.

"Thank you, Cass. But he hasn't eaten anything yet." Rapunzel said.

"Ugh... okay, sit here. I'm bringing something for him." Cassandra left to the kitchen.

"I can't believe she's doing all these things for me!" Eugene said with his soulless voice.

"What do you think she is? Heartless?" Rapunzel asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Yes!", Eugene replied immediately.

"Eugene!", Rapunzel scolded him.

*****

"Are you feeling better now, Fitzherbert?" Cassandra asked as it's been a while he took the medicine.

"No.. not really...", Eugene threw up again, thus couldn't finish his sentence. "It's hurting like hell", he tried speaking again.

"He's burning up, Cass", Rapunzel expressed her worry to Cassandra.

"It will take a while to recover", Cassandra said, "he only has a single dose as of now." She explained further. "Raps, I have chores to do, I'm going. If you need anything, call me via Faith. Don't worry, Xavier said he will be okay after taking three doses." She rushed to outside of the room after assuring the princess.

Meanwhile, Eugene became almost senseless due to the weakness and pain.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright." Rapunzel caressed his forehead.

"Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine. Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt, change the fates' design. Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine." She whispered the healing incantation to his ear, although there's no healing magic left inside her body anymore.

"Rapunzel, please, never leave me!" Eugene murmured.

"Why would I leave you?", Rapunzel was surprised at his sudden solicitation.

"Rapunzel, I've never been taken care of like this before. I'd rather been scolded if I got ill as if I committed a sin. I couldn't spare a rest even if I was badly inneeded of one. I can't express in words, how it feels to be taken care of with so much love. Rapunzel, please, never leave me, or I'll be alone, again. There won't be anyone to take care of me when I am sick."

"Aww... I'll never leave you Eugene. I promise." She kissed him on the forehead.

"I love you with my everything." He said.

"I love you too!" She said in response.

"Rapunzel, I think you still have the magic, I'm feeling better now." Eugene said weakly.

*****

"I think it's some sort of placebo effect." Cassandra said thoughtfully. It didn't take till the third dose, Eugene recovered just after taking his very first dose of the medicine.

"Plasi...what?" Rapunzel asked.

"Placebo effect... your song doesn't possess any healing quality but still it worked because he believes it works! And Xavier's medication accelerated the healing process." Cassandra explained.

"Oh, I really thought I had my power back! Anyway, don't tell it to him. I think he'll get sick again if he hear this!" Rapunzel said biting her lower lip.

#Rapunzel #Eugene Fitzherbert #Cassandra TTS #New Dream #Tangled #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled the series #comic art #art #artists on tumblr #digital art #ibispaint x #my art #illustration #fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

fewwawifwiends · 2 years

Text

and they were roommates!!! part 2

this is part two of what has been my favourite thing to write to date

for those that followed this from part one, thank you for your patience, i hope this doesn't let you down.

for those reading this for the first time, getting to part one first might be a good idea, this is a heavily plot based smut fic (words i thought i'd never say)

warnings: s m u t , (probably) mentions of oueed and alcohol, unprotected sex, another author's note in the end.

oh and in true theo fashion, this has not been proofread, or beta'd

word count: 16,722

“i am going to kill you with my own bare hands.” great start to a family conversation. max heard his sister sigh on the other side of the line.

“whatever did i ever do this time, dear brother?”

“you know damn well what you did, you ruined my summer break!”

“oh get off it, you still have almost three weeks-”

“whose idea was rowan? yours. and a bad one at that.”

“what did she do this time?” max could hear victoria giving up, but if he knew his sister at all, she’d defend the girl to her dying breath. this was a losing battle already.

“she just up and left!”

“wouldn’t you be happy about that? having your place all to your own, the rest of your break-”

“no vic, you don’t understand.”

“oh you had sex and then she left. okay, so what’s the problem with that? don’t you do that with like, every other girl?”

“it’s not like that, it-”

“it’s exactly like that, emilian.” the use of his middle name made him cringe. “a girl left you before you could leave her. big deal. get over it.” and she hung up on him.

the sheer nerve this woman possessed was enough to drive him wild sometimes. he’d kill for his sister, but sometimes he swore he could kill her.

it wasn’t about rowan leaving after he shared his bed with her -which was pretty sacred, but for the moment a bit beside the point. it was about how she left, like a thief in the night, leaving no trace, no way of contacting her again behind. and sure, that sounds exactly like what he might have done a couple times in the past. but he hadn’t spent a week playing house with those girls, he barely even knew their name. so yes, rowan leaving like that was quite rude. and he took it personally.

defeated, he took his morning coffee to the living room and sat on the couch. it was a comfortable couch and he’d forgotten how it felt; it had been rowan’s for a bit more than a week. yet another reminder. max cursed and took out his phone, determined to find her. at least know where she went after ditching him. that would only be fair, right?

he went through his sister’s followers on instagram, a painstaking and headache inducing process, but came up empty; there was no mention of any rowan on all the handles he checked. how could a girl like that not have instagram? unless she didn’t have her name on the handle, but who does that? still, it was somewhat of a lead, so he searched again. and again. and again, he found nothing. it was like the woman was a ghost.

perhaps it was for the best to think of this as a unique, one time experience, remember it fondly and get on with his life. max really tried to ponder on that thought, internalise it, make it happen. remember rowan as a pleasurable memory. even though pleasurable wasn’t doing justice to the feeling of her soft lips around his cock. fuck, he was getting hard just thinking about it. absentmindedly he gave his cock a couple familiar tugs before shaking his head. remembering her wouldn’t work. he needed to forget.

he took a cold shower and went for a run, realising after the fact that the order of those tasks should’ve been in reverse. still, he was home alone. he could sit in his filth for a few minutes before taking yet another shower. and despite that annoyance, his headache of where rowan was was still lingering, without any signs of subsiding.

she probably went home, but where was even that? her accent didn’t give anything away, and all their conversations were in english, so she wasn’t dutch. but she wasn’t british either, she didn’t speak in an accent he recognised. but rowan is an english name.

and how did she get enough money to afford a last minute plane ticket to literally anywhere? oh god, what if she hitchhiked her way out of the country? it was a dangerous idea, as dangerous as it was free and rowan was more than capable of thinking it would work out just fine. if she wanted out so bad, at the very least she could’ve asked for a ride. stubborn woman.

she was a mystery, a ghost and a constant migraine, from the moment she walked into his life. she’d turned everything upside down and now he couldn’t even find her to… why would he need to find her anyway? give her a piece of his mind, give her front row seats to how irresponsibly she’d acted, how worried he was? as cathartic as that sounded, it wasn’t excuse enough. part of him wanted to fuck her again, he wasn’t nearly done doing everything he wanted to do to her. but it wasn’t a good idea to focus on that for the time being.

what was a better idea would be to ask victoria for help, at least rowan’s number or if she knew where she was. maybe he’d even settle with assurance that she was okay. was he really prepared to have his sister mock him for the rest of their lives over that? was that itch in his chest, the need to know worth it? the thought didn’t ponder in his head for long, as his fingers were already finding his sister’s contact in his phone and tapped on the call button.

“can you give me her number?” pleasantries were something he just couldn’t be bothered with at the moment.

“hi yourself. and wait. rowan didn’t give you her number? not even once?”

“slim chance i’d need it twice, wouldn’t it be?”

“fine be an asshole about it. and the answer is no. and before you get ahead of yourself, it’s not because i’m holding a grudge, which i should. it’s because if she didn’t give you her number, she didn’t want you to have it.”

“maybe the thought didn’t occur to her and now she can’t reach me if she wants to.”

“can’t see why she’d want to.” he could see vic just staring at her nails, indifferent, pretending to be oblivious in an attempt to bruise his ego. it would have worked if matters weren’t so pressing, so a tired sigh was the only response he gave. “okay, fine, you know what? if she calls asking for your number, i’ll give it to her. sound good?”

“but what if she doesn’t?”

“then you’ll just have to live with that.”

“vic, come on. i need to hear she’s okay. i don’t know what you think you know, but it’s more complicated than that.”

“is it now?” she chuckled. let the mocking begin.

“just… please.”

“no. getting the two of you together was a mistake, i thought i was doing an old friend a favour and hoped you’d get a kick out of it as well. but i can’t take your whining -which apparently hasn’t stopped even now that she’s gone- and god knows i won’t be able to take rowan’s as well if i give you her number. i’m sorry max, i’m not budging on that one.”

“now who’s being an asshole? and i’ll forgive you for letting her into my house without my consent if you give me her number. consider your sins absolved.”

“are you seriously blackmailing me?”

“pretty much, yeah.”

“and i’m the asshole?!”

“pretty much, yeah.”

at this point max was running out of options and he was almost certain his pacing would leave a mark on the hardwood floor. besides, a little blackmail among siblings never hurt anyone. once again though, vic hung up on him. exasperated, he tossed his phone on the couch, relived to hear it hit against the pillows and not the floor by accident.

he hopped in the shower for the second and probably not final time that day and his mind was racing through so many things at once that not even the cold water could bring to a halt. flashing memories of the last night the spent together blended with laughs shared over meals, rowan flashing him a smile as she cooked, or when he got home and found her on the couch reading a book with sassy curled next to her.

and all that was mixed with questions answered by theories that bore even more questions, mental images of where rowan might have grown up, how she ended up stranded in monaco of all places, who her friends were, how she stayed in touch with vic without max ever hearing her name mentioned once, and that was only the tip of the iceberg. regrettably for him, his sister was the only person that could even begin to answer any of those questions.

“if you’ve called to beg again, i’m hanging up right now.”

seems that it was victoria’s turn to skip the pleasantries and max chuckled as he ran a towel through his hair, trying to get most of the moisture out.

“no dear sister. even though you do love to hear me beg.”

“true. continue.” her gracious highness granted him permission.

“if i can’t talk to rowan about it, i figured i’d ask you.” he started but was quickly cut off.

“please spare me the details.”

“it’s not about that, you idiot. i just want to know more about her.”

“suppose that can’t hurt.”

finally, a win, no matter how small.

“she mentioned we went karting together when we were kids. how did you stay friends without my knowing?”

“social media is a wonderful thing. we grew apart but then i found her on social and we started talking again.”

“how well would you say you know her?”

“well enough to let her into your home, max.” patience was running thin on victoria’s end and it was max’s cue to start with the more important questions.

“how did she end up in monaco with no place to go and no way out?”

“that’s not my story to tell, max. but i assure you there’s a very good reason behind it, and you did more good than you could possibly imagine.”

“so you know she’s fine?”

“jesus, of course i know she’s okay, what kind of person do you take me for?”

“okay, good. that’s good.”

“are we going to continue playing twenty questions?”

“one last question. how are your little devils?”

“growing and a pain in the ass. they miss their uncle.” her voice softened at max’s concern. not that it was a rare occurrence, but given the circumstances, she didn’t think that there would be much room for anything else than what seemed to be his current obsession.

“i’ll be home to see them as soon as i can. i miss them too. i miss you. how are you holding up?”

“by a thread.” she chuckled. “not but really, mom and tom have been my lifesavers, i couldn’t do it all without them.”

“ouch.”

“you know what i mean, max. you can’t watch the kids while i’m having back to back meetings or when i just need a glass of wine.”

“yeah, yeah, i get it. it’s nice to feel useful though.”

“you’re loved, smart and important. but i have to go, lukas is trying to climb my leg like a tree.”

“mildly concerning. off you go, remind your son he’s a boy, not a monkey.”

“love ya.” the words were rushed and max barely had any time to say them back before he heard the sound to indicate that the call was over.

so she was okay, so the important bit was out of the way. and she was on social media, and his sister’s social media at that. perhaps he hadn’t looked hard enough. maybe going through the likes on vic’s posts would do it? a shot in the dark, but again, better than nothing.

cross-referencing handles on the likes with the ones that stood out on victoria’s followers list turned out to be more fruitful than aimlessly scrolling and trying to determine if what he was seeing seemed like rowan. or at least the version of rowan he’d come to know, and he was so consumed by his moderate success and the feeling of getting closer and closer that once again, he didn’t stop to think anything other than his goal, repercussions be damned.

had he taken a minute or two to think this over, there was a chance he could have realised that maybe rowan didn’t want to be found, especially by him and the reasons were hers and hers alone. maybe he could have seen that at the end of the day, there was nothing to really bind them except for a… unique week. like that kid you meet while on vacation, have fun with them and then never see them again, but in a moderately more adult version. and there would be nothing wrong with that. except he didn’t take a minute, there was no way for any of those thoughts to cross his mind, when finding her took up all the space in his brain. maybe it was a bruise to his ego, being left like that before even the morning after, that he needed to correct. maybe it was that raw connection drawing him back to her, pulling him like a magnet to wherever she may be. it could be so many things, and he didn’t care about any of them. the reason why didn’t matter; only the result.

finally having found an account that might have been rowan’s, max tapped on the blue request to follow button and hoped for the best. the account was private and there was no mention of her name nor was a face visible in the small avatar. It was an educated guess at best, and it could go both ways. maybe he’d have spent all that time on the wrong person. worse yet, he’d found her and she wouldn’t grant him access to the profile, deleting his request. it wasn’t a risk he was comfortable with, but it was one he had to take anyway. from where he stood, he saw no other option.

mental exhaustion was creeping in, as was a migraine that he’d somehow been holding back all this time. max locked the phone and with a flick of his wrist threw it to the side, deciding that he’d had enough screen time for the day. he thought of calling a friend, go out for a drink -or five- but ultimately, did nothing. a quiet night in would be best, to enjoy the silence and serenity his home used to offer up until the week before. he’d crack a beer, watch the sunset, annoy his cats; all things he used to do to unwind.

max did just that, and mechanically walked over to the fridge, grabbed a can and went outside, pausing only to pick up jimmy so he could annoy him with a view. and for a while, everything was back to normal, it felt like there was a way back after all. until he started to really relax though and let his mind wander as the sun sank into the ocean, coating it a warm orange and pink. the first stars were barely just twinkling when max noticed the rails on his balcony and his mind rushed to remind him how he would have loved the opportunity to take rowan right there. the light would look amazing on her skin, and now that he knew exactly how she felt, underneath his fingertips and around his cock, it was much harder to snap out of it, so he didn’t; he allowed the fantasy to play out in a hazy daydream as his hand automatically reached under his pants. as that daydream came to a climax, so did max, and the only thing he could make up his mind about was that he probably wouldn’t bother with washing those pants but throw them away entirely.

the aftermath of his orgasm had him in a trance and found himself naked in his bed, certain that he could still smell a bit of her on the pillowcase before drifting off to a dreamless sleep. but even so, he knew that there was no escaping her.

the next morning, morning number two without rowan, max fumbled on his nightstand to find his phone, with sleep still in his eyes and no luck on the first task of the day. as the gears turned in his brain, he realised that not only he’d left his phone in the living room, but he also probably slept through his alarms and without getting up there was no way of telling the time, completely forgetting about the watch he always wore on his right wrist.

heavy movement got him to the living room and as the brightness on his phone made him squint, he made out that among his usual gazillion notifications, there was one that stood out: the account he played sherlock holmes for the day before had approved of his follow request. suddenly wide awake without a single drop of caffeine in his bloodstream, max opened the notification and the person’s profile, eager to see rowan’s face again. except he didn’t. the profile was one of a perfect stranger, so the whole endeavour had proven a complete bust.

defeated and tired he started going about his usual morning routine, topped with a giant homemade iced coffee as a treat. just as he was about to settle down, his phone rang and max’s initial excitement wore off when he saw the caller id. it was just his trainer, calling to remind him that they’d see each other again toward the end of the summer break, wishing him to enjoy the rest of his vacation and making some god awful small talk. to his own surprise, max survived the call without jumping off his balcony, and tried his best to finally relax.

and that was a plan that worked for him for roughly two minutes, until his phone rang again and he answered using the reflexes bradley had worked hard to help him achieve, not bothering to hide his annoyance at the first ‘hello’.

“is that how you greet an old friend?” he heard rowan’s voice from the other end of the call. it would suffice to say he was left speechless, not really knowing how to respond. “heard you were looking for me.” she stated after the silence got a bit too awkward.

“yeah…” he stammered a reply.

“what for?”

“i was worried, you just left like that and i-”

“i’m fine, max.” she’d never called him by his first name. not when they were just talking, anyway.

“you don’t sound fine.”

“well, i am. would that be all?”

why was she so eager to hang up on him? she was the one who called him to begin with. if she wanted nothing to do with him, all she had to do was ignore him, and victoria, who without a doubt was the one that gave her his number.

“i wanted to talk. are you still in monaco?”

“no, i left yesterday.”

“great, i’ll book you a flight. where are you?”

“i don’t see how that’s necessary.”

“or i could come to you, i am on my break after all.”

“oh so nothing better to do, let’s booty call rowan via proxy?”

“you know that that’s not what this is about.”

“do i?” she raised her voice, shocked by his audacity. she only existed for him when he wanted an easy fuck. and that was okay for the first time around, but going to such lengths for a second time was excessive if not weird.

“well, you would if you knew the first thing about me. i wanted to see if you’re okay and talk about how we left things.”

“i’m fine and there’s nothing to talk about. we said it was a one time thing and i got out of your way as soon as i could, as planned. now if i’ve answered all your questions-”

“don’t you dare hang up on me, rowan.” voice was stern, words conveyed an order, not a request nor urgency.

“or what, you’ll lock me in my room?”

“i haven’t forgotten about your breaking and entering and i have a very good lawyer.”

“oh shiver me timbers!” she tried to be sarcastic, she really did. and she might have succeeded, if it wasn’t for the smile max could hear in her words. rowan wasn’t keen on testing whether max was being serious or not; she knew he wasn’t, and now he knew she knew. this entire thing was giving her a headache, one she hadn’t missed from her days staying with him.

“look, i’m really grateful for letting me stay with you. i know it wasn’t ideal for you…” she tried to tiptoe around… everything. especially the last night she was there. “and like i said, i never wanted to be a bother. so as soon as i got the chance, i left you be. doesn’t mean i don’t appreciate all you did for me.” and by god, he’d done so much more than he could ever understand. he probably didn’t even mean to, or even want to, but he’d done so much and while it was all good, unbeknownst to him, what he did or didn’t do carried so many repercussions.

“you could’ve at least said goodbye, stayed over for coffee.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” and she genuinely was. for so many things she couldn’t even begin to talk about.

max believed her. she was sorry. but that’s not what he wanted to talk to her about, an apology barely even made the list.

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“jesus verstappen, yes, i’m fine!” she chuckled, taken aback by his persistent concern.

“and you do know that you’re welcome here whenever you want, right? of course, you know where the spare key is and everything.”

“that’s very kind of you.” that was all she had to say. that was all she could say. there was no way to talk about how her mind was flooded with memories of how she got into his house in the first place, finding the spare key and letting herself in, exploring the house, getting to know max’s cats and making herself at home. only this time, along with a tang of nostalgia, those memories were altered; she could see herself letting herself in again, but this time around max would be there to greet her with a warm hug, jimmy and sassy would instantly tangle themselves between her legs, and maybe she’d fall, but max would catch her. she’d played house for too long. but though she tried, there was no shaking those thoughts away.

“so you still won’t come?” only when he spoke did rowan realise how long the silence was.

“don’t you have better friends to spend your vacation with?”

“of course i do. but i want to spend it with you.” there was a a deliberate pause between his sentences. it was a sweet sentiment. such a shame rowan didn’t buy it. all she heard was that he wanted easy access to a good fuck for the rest of the month.

“i thought you couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.” she tried to remain civil.

“oh just get your ass over here. even for just two hours. one coffee. or drink. or dinner. anything.”

“verstappen, are you asking me out?”

“you wish.” he scoffed, a little too quick to dismiss her. “can i be completely honest?”

“no. lie to me.”

“i don’t want you to come, i don’t ever want to talk to you again, i’m not even in the tiniest bit worried about how the fuck you got out of monaco. and of course i haven’t spent the past two days trying not to think about you.” those would have been the hardest lies max would have ever told, save for the smile lacing his words. “so no, i don’t want to see you. i dread the thought of having this conversation in person.”

rowan wasn’t quite sure how to respond. it was obvious he didn’t mean any of that. so why did a part of her wish he did? why would she think it would be easier if it were true? there was resentment in her heart, for fluttering even just a little when she heard him speak.

“okay, i’m hanging up now, good talking to you verstappen.”

“what did i tell you about hanging up on me?” there he was again, using his serious voice, leaving rowan just holding the phone, motionless and staring at the wall. how did he manage to have such a hold on her? wasn’t she better than that already? apparently not. or at least not as much as she’d like to think. “still there, aren’t you?” she could hear his smirk and it was infuriating.

“yes.” she replied through gritted teeth.

“good. if you’re not coming to me, let me come to you. where are you?”

“home.”

“and where would that be, princess?” god, she could kill him for that condescending tone in a heartbeat.

“you are not coming here.”

“try me. text me the address.” and he hung up on her. fuck max verstappen.

but in a twisted turn of her brain wirings, rowan did text him the address, curious to see if he’d keep his word; conflicted on whether she wanted him to keep it or not.

the next few of hours had been a blur for max, from packing a small suitcase -just in case- to making arrangements for his jet to be wheels up asap, everything had felt a little like a fever dream, not quite there but still hanging tight on reality.

rowan on the other hand was enjoying a glass of chilled white wine at the comfort of her home, devouring a random -and probably not so good- book she picked at the airport. she couldn’t care less about the plot. getting even tipsy while also actively trying not to think about max was an achievable goal for the evening. it’s not like he’d be knocking on her front door, why would he do that? it was an exchange, he have her his couch and she gave him home-cooked meals, she let him have some of her pot and he gave her three orgasms. tit for tat, end of exchange and conversation.

sure, she left in a rush, but she did apologise for that. and that’s the reason she got his number from victoria in the first place. and when vic texted her to let her know that max was looking for her, she put on a brave face and went about it as maturely as she possibly could. she did wonder for a minute or two if it was enough, but dismissed the thought entirely. she did get the apology out of the way and it was sincere. that was all that mattered, and it gave her closure. it felt good, to actually get some of that, closure. it was a new feeling, but damn it was finally right. a chapter closed. said and done. so why did the protagonist in her book look like him when she pictured him?

rowan did try to rationalise it, she really did. he’s the last man you actually saw, it’s only natural he’s the first person to pop in your head when reading about a blonde guy with blue eyes. he was practically the only person she saw for a week, that’s how she’d made any sense out of it, entirely forgetting his friends at the club and having the stranger she’d been dancing with that night completely erased from her memory.

if she had to be honest with herself, her attempt at actively not thinking about max was not going so well. but she didn’t have to be honest with herself, so only a small effort was wasted on silencing that voice in her head and trying to focus back on her book. her concentration did not break, even with the distinct sound of the intercom in her apartment buzzing.

mechanically, she walked over to the device on the wall next to her door and pushed on the small button, eyes still glued on the page she was on. it was probably the ubereats she forgot she ordered. except it wasn’t, and as she stood by the open door, leaning on the frame with the book in her hands, she looked up to greet the delivery guy. instead of a cholesterol induced heart attack in a bag however, what stood before her was max, in the flesh.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” she managed to say after staring at him for a couple of seconds at a complete loss.

“you did text me your address.”

“and here you are.”

“obviously.”

“why.” not a question, a statement.

“jesus christ, i told you! i wanted to see you, talk to you. in person.”

rowan let him in and took her seat on the stool of the kitchen island, leaving the book and taking a hold and a brave swing of her wine. max was following suit, albeit a little confused at the girl’s reaction. for him it was so straightforward and obvious that he’d be there, like they’d made plans for coffee.

“okay, talk.”

“how did you leave?”

“booked a flight.”

“thought you were broke.”

“someone in my family finally came through.”

“why didn’t you say goodbye?”

“is this a conversation or twenty questions?”

“it is whatever you want it to be. so, why didn’t you say goodbye?”

“i want this to be over.”

max’s face fell. rowan was serious; her tone had not changed from the moment he stepped through the door, emotionless. maybe she meant the conversation. maybe she meant whatever they had. either way, max was not prepared for such an answer. against all evidence, he was sure that rowan wouldn’t be that person, she wouldn’t be the one to be so harsh and borderline rude. but here they were, staring at each other without saying a word.

“if you didn’t want me here why did you tell me where you were? hell, why did you call?”

both perfectly valid questions that the girl did not have the answer to. impulsive decisions she thought herself wiser than to make. there was no plan to backfire, but that was exactly what it felt like. max put her on the spot and she couldn’t do anything but keep staring back at him.

the man could go on a rant on how fucked up this was, but it would be pointless. it was evident that he was not wanted there and he started questioning why he went through all that trouble. with a sigh, he gave up after a few moments of trying to find a reason to stay, to excuse this whole charade and convince himself that he was welcome.

“nevermind, forget i was ever here. or that any of this happened. whatever. have a good one.” he muttered while looking down and turning on his heels to leave.

in another impulsive decision she was sure to regret, it was rowan’s turn to grab him by the wrist and prevent him from leaving.

“i’m sorry. i’m going through some stuff.” she had no intention of opening up that can of worms, especially not to max verstappen. he had better things to do than waste his time on her issues and she should be better than to drag him in them. perhaps it might have been for the best to let things end like that, plain badly, two people with enough resentment for each other to help them move on faster than the speed of light. but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. she was not this person and he deserved better.

“hope it gets better for you soon.” he freed himself from her grip and continued to make his way to the door, not bothering to look at her. his patience was running thin and from nothing, this had become something and that something was no laughing matter. his temper was getting the best of him, casting a shadow over rowan’s poor attempt at an excuse.

with a loud thud the door closed behind him and max was out of the door and her life, exactly like she walked out of his.

a couple days went by with radio silence. max was almost content with the idea that his life would continue to be exactly as he expected it before it got turned upside down and inside out by a virtual stranger. in this endeavour, in the midst of his summer break when he didn’t have intense training and strategy sessions to drain all his energy, or the adrenaline of a grand prix weekend, but instead he had all the free time in the world, he took up a new hobby to fill his time. sat in his balcony, overseeing the sea as the sun painted everything in pink and orange hues, he had a thick and well recommended fantasy book in one hand and a tall glass of iced tea in the other to combat the heat.

all seemed well for him, a good 80 pages into the story that had him immersed enough to almost not notice the unexpected buzz of his phone. the screen lit up with a notification, a text from rowan and all his peace and quiet fell apart in nanoseconds.

puzzled and curious, he opened it only to find himself even more puzzled and curious. it was a selfie, and she was in an uncharacteristically seductive pose; it was a mirror selfie, in what max could only presume was her bedroom, and there would be nothing weird about that. in the background he could see some minimalistic decorations on the wall and a plant that was close to dying hanging from the ceiling.

so, nothing out of the ordinary, save of course for the black satin nightdress that hung just below her hips, with thin lace straps and lining on the bust to bring just enough attention to her neck, shoulders and chest without revealing too much. and again, that may have been okay, but it wasn’t just that. she was staring at her reflection on the phone with an intense gaze and she had a nail in between her teeth, lips parted just enough. it wasn’t her bare legs, the thought of the satin fabric in between their bodies or even the tasteful hints at her body that made his cock twitch; it was her face and her eyes. it was those lips that he now knew damn well what they felt like.

he thought of replying with words -the debate of whether he would reply or not never even took place in his head-, but it felt strangely inadequate. he needed to pay back with the same coin, it was a matter of principle. in autopilot, his body dragged him to his own bedroom, where he took a similar photo. there was a small debate however, on whether it would be a serious one, him trying to do his thing, or if he’d full on imitate rowan’s pose. he thought of the latter to be the safest option, so there he was, in front of the very same mirror he was intent of having her see their reflection of their bodies colliding, fucking hard and fast, standing with only his grey athletic shorts, one finger hanging from his mouth, eyes fixed on the image on his screen. and send.

‘you’re not not malena.’ came her reply as fast as her fingers could type.

‘how perceptive of you’

‘this was not intended for you’

‘oh yeah? and who’s it for?’ obviously it was not for him. it would be stupid of him to think that after everything, she’d reach out again. perhaps it was even more stupid of him to engage. but he couldn’t resist. and the thought that she’d be sending those kind of photos to anyone else made his blood boil. he didn’t have any right to feel that way but that changed nothing. another stupid thing of him.

‘none of your business’

and she could’ve left it there. she sent the message and there were no more dots on the screen on either end. max was still staring at his phone though, and even though he didn’t know it, so was rowan. she fucked up. so damn much, it was almost incomprehensible. she’d left max with no explanation once before, he didn’t deserve for this to happen again.

‘it was for my best friend. her contact is usually the only one staring from m on my phone’ it was the truth. but would it be enough? would he leave it be? how much of an even bigger mess could she create?

‘and you send those kind of pics to all your best friends?’ a fair question, which demanded more explanation. rowan didn’t know whether to bite on her nails even harder to ease the anxiety or feel entirely exasperated. max was not just any man who would be satisfied with breadcrumbs. she knew better than that, appreciated and respected that. but at that point, it was not working to her advantage.

‘she needed some inspiration, spice things up with her boyfriend’ she yielded and told the truth again, no evasiveness.

‘you’re a good friend’ rowan chuckled bitterly at his response.

‘i try my best’

‘am i your friend?’ he couldn’t resist. apparently his self control had gone out the window for anything that concerned rowan and this was a new and wild feeling in his chest, like a fire that he didn’t have the means to put out, and it never really went away; it just felt a little bit more at home sometimes.

‘no. we’re not friends, max.

and i think it would be better if you lost my number.’

‘we both know i’m not going to do that’

‘and what do you intend to do?’

‘come over again and remind you why that would be a bad idea.’ which was a colossally bad idea in its own accord. the only justification max could give to why it sounded like a sound solution to the problem building inside of him was how hard she made him. he was thinking with his dick and there wasn’t much he could do to help it.

‘you’re talking big, verstappen’

‘don’t make me show you big’

‘go ahead, see if i’m phased’

max was not the person to send dick pics. he’d never done it and he could never see himself do something like that. that said, just a a close up of his crotch, the outline of his hardness clearly visible with his thumb tucked underneath and pushing the hem of his pants down ever so slightly was not a dick pic. one might even consider it tasteful.

rowan’s eyes were glued to the screen, unable to look away. he had some nerve, pushing boundaries like that. she did bring this on herself, although the blame game was not something she could focus on when her mouth was hanging agape and borderline salivating. so yeah, she was phased, and that much was evident from the radio silence that lasted a minute or two, which rowan spent looking at the photo.

‘not phased, huh?’

cocky son of a bitch.

‘so what you mean to tell me is that this didn’t remind you how it felt inside you

how it felt when i was fucking you

while you were touching yourself

cumming all over me’

rowan fell back on the bed, trying to find some soothing and cooling comfort in her white sheets with little success. even if her eyes weren’t running over the screen again and again, the words were etched in her mind, along with the memories they brought up to the surface. she remembered damn well how it felt, have him keep her eyes on them as he was pounding into her and her own hand was shamelessly rubbing her wet folds.

as if in a trance, the memory started blending with the present as her hand started reaching downwards, ready to recreate at least some of the sensations. before she could get below her belly, a ding from her phone brought her back to reality and she physically shook her head to try and get rid of the urges that had overcome her, thankful for the distraction. until she opened the notification.

‘still want me to lose your number, baby?’ fuck, the hold he had on her was out of this world. did he know what that word did to her? but this was not a good time to give in. so she decided to give up.

‘you’re a big boy, verstappen

do whatever you want’

‘what i want

requires consent’ he was not letting go, making this so much harder for rowan.

‘why can’t you let go?’

‘because you won’t let me’ he thought of whether he should elaborate on that or not. maybe it would feel better, that raging feeling, if he did.

‘because you just walked into my life

gave me an amazing week

and just fucking left, rowan.

without a single explanation or a god damn goodbye

and as much as i hate this, you have me hooked.’

‘because i left and bruised your precious ego?

you’re such a man.’ this was actually doing her so much good, it was slowly letting her get out of his hold, tearing down all the pedestals her little mind was too busy putting him on.

‘because you made me feel something and then you left.’

‘yeah, made you feel how good it is to have your cock sucked.’

‘phenomenal’ he had to admit. ‘but beside the point

the point is that i thought we made a good team

label that however you want.’

it was surreal, how they were having that conversation over texts. max had never had a serious discussion over text, he’d barely had one over the phone. the timing was as bad as any other moment. he may have let rowan push him out twice, but he wouldn’t let her get away from it this time; not without telling how he saw things.

rowan on the other hand was speechless yet again. the nerve, the audacity, the way he just went out and bared himself- it almost made her jealous.

‘you don’t want me on your team, verstappen’

‘it’s fine, i can fuck anything that’s bothering you out of your system ‘

‘is this all about sex to you?’

‘with you, it’s an added bonus

so is that a yes?’

he’d made up his mind. she didn’t want him involved in her drama and that was more than fine with him; there was not a single cell in his body that wanted to be involved anyway. what he did want was to be close to her, and to his own surprise, he’d been honest: it was not all about sex, but it was a great bonus. what it was mainly about was to get that feeling back, when they could be in the same room without talking and still feeling comfortable, when their endless banter was equally infuriating and entertaining, when he was with someone he didn’t have to explain himself to because they just get him. when his house felt like home, even for just a few days.

rowan had never felt more confused about such a straightforward statement. actually, confusion wasn’t the primary emotion; first, she was conflicted. whatever max could mean exactly, it wouldn’t matter one bit if it was the worst idea in any plane of existence. she tried to imagine how having anyone new in her life at the moment would play out and it all ended in blood, sweat and tears. she was not in any place to bring someone else into her shit, it would be selfish and irresponsible of her. but what if max didn’t have to be involved? not directly, anyway. suddenly, it felt like his proposal made sense.

‘even if i were to say yes

which im not

what would i be saying yes to?’

‘you clearly need a distraction

so do i

i don’t know what’s going on with you

you have no idea what’s going on with me

we just enjoy each other’s company whenever we feel like it.’

‘and that involves sex.’

‘would you get your mind out of the fucking gutter?’

‘maybe you can fuck that out of me as well ’

‘can’t believe i’m saying this

rowan please focus.

are we a team?’

she didn’t reply straight away. she wanted to get this over with, rip the bandaid. tell him that this would never work, that it was inevitable things would get complicated, one way or the other. but she couldn’t bring herself to say, or even type the words. so she waited until it would feel easier to do.

hours passed and day gave in to night, and rowan had still not touched her phone, entirely out of fear that she’d say the wrong thing, whatever that was. she got ready for bed early for her standards, but the heat along with the emotional toll she bore was getting too much. once her head hit the pillow, her mind started drifting and scrambled thoughts came down to one: max. she decided that visualising their texts like a face to face conversation would help her make up her mind, see how that would never work and finally put things to rest with a simple no. one word, two letters.

at first, she imagined him alone in his room, in his bed, like she’d been, and as the conversation progressed, her mind inserted more details. she could see first hand every eye roll, every exasperated sigh, every grimace at her replies, every single time he held his breath as she typed. before long, her physical presence was inserted to the scene, and it was as if max couldn’t see her at first, still hooked on his phone. he was typing away furiously, and rowan wandered at which part. he was typing a lot… and then it was as if she could hear his thoughts that got transcribed without much alteration.

“how it felt when i was fucking you, while you were touching yourself, cumming all over me”

rowan heard herself audibly sigh as she heard those words fall from his lips. it was one thing to read them, and entirely different to hear him say them, even in her mind. that was what seemed to get max to realise that rowan was sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, one knee bent on the mattress, body turned to face him. and that seemed to help him notice that she was there, in the actual room with him.

“still want me to lose your number, baby?” a cocky smirk laced his lips as he looked at her with eyes that were way too sure of the answer for rowan’s comfort. in her mind at least, max knew exactly how weak that word made her and she hated him for it. in fact, she hated him enough to attack him in the only way she knew how: by kissing him feverishly, quickly straddling him and breaking contact only to remove her nightgown.

what followed was an exact replica of their last night together, every touch, word, sound replayed in her mind and all she could do was ride along, try to satiate the hunger with her fingers. soon -sooner than usual- it was over and instead of a clearer head, as she expected, she was left with an empty feeling in her core and one word tumbling out of her mouth.

‘yes’ she typed out and tapped on send, turning her phone off right after, ensuring a very sleepless night ahead.

max received the text hours later from his last message to rowan. specifically, it was almost 4 am and he hadn't slept a wink. it's not like he didn't try to sleep, get his mind off things, but it was as futile an attempt as the ones that came before that.

he tried to avoid thinking about what rowan might be doing or thinking to take this long to respond, if she was going to reply at all. and even in his wildest fantasies, he would have never guessed that the girl spent the better part of those hours fantasising about him, edging herself in denial time and time again before finally giving in and texting him back. after all that had happened, rowan thinking about sex, with him especially, wouldn't cross his mind. perhaps because that was exactly what he'd done, and the chances of her doing the same seemed slim to none. either way, her text had found him sleepless and frustrated in more ways than he cared to count. finally, as his screen lit up in the middle of the night, he was able to close his eyes and rest, curious and excited about the days to come.

‘does that mean you're coming back?'

'in your dreams, verstappen'

'in my dreams you're already here'

'good, you can savour the feeling then'

'are you ever going to stop acting like a brat?'

'am not.'

'are too'

'im not playing this game'

'okay, what do you want to play?'

'youre unbelievable and im an adult with responsibilities.

surely your spoiled ass wouldn't know how that feels like'

'youre impossible'

and that was it. the bubbles vanished and suddenly his phone lost all the excitement it ever held, feeling just like another tiny and slim brick in his hand.

max decided to go for a run, and in the midst of sweat and trying to control his breathing, his mind wandered. unsurprisingly, to rowan. what was a surprise however was the fact that his thoughts were not occupied with her in a similar situation, skimpily dressed, skin glistening with sweat and shaky breathing. no, this time all he could do was wonder how he ended up in that situation, entangled so deeply and so fast that he'd defied all defence mechanisms he'd worked so hard on building up all those years.

he'd become a master of keeping everyone at bay, showing them only parts of him that made them feel okay and him safe. his friends were few and unknowingly tested over the years, and that's how he liked it. and then came she, barging into his life and having him express his... ugh.. feelings in what, two weeks? that was a level of vulnerability no one had achieved, not even his sister.

what was so special about rowan? or what had broken in him to have them end up like that? it was so fucked up he couldn’t even tell what they ended up like. like friends? lovers? were they in a relationship? that was the only thing that was surely off the table. sure, they’d spent a week together, but he didn’t know anything about her at the end of the day. and he wasn’t one to risk himself and his career with a relationship. what he did know was that he wanted her in his life and the only logic that kicked in was to ensure that it would be in the most no-strings-attached way possible.

he’d never been this impulsive, always calculated and focused. now he could barely keep his head in taking the route he did every day for his runs and that was a problem in more ways than simply ending up someplace else entirely and winding up a bit lost for half an hour. and that was all on her. even if he didn’t really know who she was or what she was to him, it was her.

he’d given up on trying to convince himself that it wasn’t about rowan, that it was just about a good fuck and having someone else in the house rather than being alone. but he liked being on his own, he’d never questioned it before. and he could throw a pebble and it would land on a girl who could give him a good fuck. well, admittedly, perhaps not as good. he was ways away from getting her out of his system. he hated to think that, but rowan was… special. he lacked a better word, he hated the word ‘special’. but any other adjective would just not be enough; anything else would only scratch the surface and he was itching to scratch and scratch and scratch until he felt satiated. if one thing made sense in his entire uncharacteristic behaviour was that bottom line, it was all for selfish reasons. it made him feel good and if rowan got something out of it -which he’d make sure she did, because funnily enough, he enjoyed that as well- even better. maybe it wasn’t about her, after all. maybe it was about him. and that bit of rationalisation made sense, enough to make his mid grow a little quieter, even for a while.

as he headed home and turned the key into the lock of his apartment, the silence was deafening once more, even more so now that his brain wasn’t blasting at full volume thoughts and images trying to make two and two equal five.

jimmy and sassy were quick to rub on his legs as soon as he took off his shoes, making sure to follow him around as we went to the bathroom to wash his hands and face before gathering up enough strength for a full shower. cats still magically not tripping over his feet, he took a short video and sent it to rowan, as if it were totally normal. ‘they miss you’ his text read.

‘i miss them too ‘

‘are you going to do something about it?’

‘are we still talking about the cats?’ she spent a minute or two thinking over the text before sending it. as much as she loved the furry little bastards and did miss them, they were not exactly what she wanted to talk about.

‘of course we are. kittens love the attention

i think they feel a bit neglected ever since you left

a few seconds passed before his next text, words that begged to be let out.

do you have anything else in mind that might need my attention?’

‘hm… i’d have to think about it’ she tried to buy a bit more time, keep herself from making mistake after mistake.

‘i’ll hop in the shower. when i come back, i expect to look at my phone and see a response’

and true to his word, he put his phone down and jumped in the shower, leaving rowan speechless. she had about ten minutes to decide her course of action. she could just give him a list of all the quirks of jimmy and sassy she’d come to know, point out that that’s what he needed to pay attention to. that would be the sensible thing to do, kill the vibe and get out. fast.

her mind however raced towards other alternatives, swinging between sending him another photo of her, this time on purpose, or just fucking with him to get a reaction. the clock was ticking and she was running out of time. quickly, she typed in: ‘a response’ and tapped on send. now all she had to do was wait -not so patiently- for a text back.

max opened the text and sighed. he should’ve seen that one coming, of course rowan would be annoying about it.

‘when you’re done playing games, i’d like to have a conversation

like adults’

in a not so weird word association game, hair brain hot wired and she went to work, standing in front of the mirror. she was on her knees, legs spread and ass touching her heels, her oversized tshirt riding up on her hips. she tried to tug the shirt downward, in what could be perceived as an attempt to keep her modesty -but in reality, it was outlining her breasts perfectly as the fabric stretched over her shirt. satisfied, she snapped the photo and then tried something even more straightforward, dragging a her index finger over her stomach and upwards, taking her shirt along, leaving her panties exposed, her stomach and just a bit of her cleavage. snapping another photo, she couldn’t decide which one she liked best, so it was only wise to send both.

the first one was followed by a text:

‘adult enough for you?’

and without wasting any more time, she sent the second one.

‘how about now?’

he was going to kill her. or she was going to kill him, whichever came first. all annoyance -and everything else- forgotten, his reply was a simple statement.

‘looks like there is something else that needs my attention’

‘i can manage perfectly fine on my own, thank you’

‘show me’ he got bold and he knew it, but damn that woman knew exactly which buttons to press.

‘looks like you can’t manage on your own’

‘don’t test me.’

‘or?’

‘or i’ll be knocking on your front door again’

‘and i won’t let you in’

‘we both know you will’

she would. as much as she hated it, one way or another she was at his beck and call, wrapped around his finger with no means of escape. rowan though didn’t want an escape. what she wanted was more of that quiet in her mind when he was with her, how everything went away but that moment, how easily it all flowed and how she could be true to herself without feeling judged, because max was just as bad.

if max were knocking on her door, she’d be letting him in without a second thought, or wasting a single precious moment before closing any and all space between them. while her mind being so completely and utterly calm in his presence, her body was on fire, one he could ignite with just one simple text. by god, she hated him for it. he had her focused, only for him. max held too much power and he could never find that out.

what she couldn’t nor wanted to hide was all this back and forth had her frustrated beyond anything she could have ever imagined. as much as she liked bragging earlier, she could not manage on her own, no matter how hard she tried. all she could do was try again and again and again, as she already had. no matter how many times her body convulsed or how sore her fingers were, it wasn’t enough.

‘and even if did, then what?’

‘then i’d be more than happy to show you that i can make you cum better than those pretty little fingers of yours’

‘go ahead then

show me, if you’re so good.’

he didn’t reply. max was very close to complying, keeping true to his word and spending the next three hours getting back to her door. deciding that he’d have enough though, he booked rowan tickets for the next flight to monaco and scheduled an uber to be at her place three hours before the departure. if his math was correct, she was a bit more than twelve hours from being back at his place. his resolve had been tested enough. it was time hers was too.

‘go to sleep baby

i’ll have a surprise waiting for you in the morning’

rowan woke up the exact same way she fell asleep: abruptly and with very little sense of the time. her phone was blowing up, someone kept calling her and interrupting her restless sleep.

“what?” she picked up the phone with sleep still in her voice, angry for the rude wakeup call.

“wake up, your uber is waiting for you downstairs.” she heard max’s voice and then the distinct sound of the call dropping, not giving her any time to ask the questions that were popping up one by one. what uber? where was she going? what time even was it? was he serious?

she got up at lightning speed and looked out her window. it sure looked like an uber was waiting, but she still wasn’t convinced it was for her. curiosity winning the battle against her soft bed, she got hastily dressed and made her way to the car.

“you rowan?” spoke the driver from his rolled down window, finger gliding his sunglasses down his nose to look at her.

“yeah…” pieces were clicking together. max did not bullshit her. which made things even weirder. “can you give me like, 10 minutes? keep the meter running, or whatever ubers have.” and with that she turned around and ran back inside her apartment.

she’d never gotten ready so fast in her life, brushing her teeth while peeing and thinking of what she needed to pack -just in case. in a record time of 7 and a half minutes, she was already on her way back down, small bag with the essentials packed.

thanking the driver for waiting, she got in the backseat of the car, debating on whether it would be too rude to ask him to stop for a coffee to go. after a while that seemed too long, her chance was gone and she was being driven around, abruptly woken up from a restless sleep without a single shot of espresso to make things easier. hell, at that point, she’d go for an instant coffee from the supermarket if that meant her eyes would stop watering and closing, and her jaw would keep its place as the relentless yawning would stop.

she must have dozed off for a part of the drive, as her eyes opened up wide when the car was decelerating, assuming they’d reached their destination, leaving rowan confused. why was she at the airport? she was broke, looking at the taxi meter on the driver’s app, she was about to be even more broke. someone needed to pay that man 45 euros as if she wasn’t strapped in for cash already. still, reluctantly she got her wallet out, hoping and praying that she’d have enough.

“oh no, it’s already paid for.” she heard the man say and a weight was lifted off her chest. it was in that exact moment she realised that she and her 50 euros would need to last more than some of her past relationships if she was going to survive.

either way, she felt an obligation to leave the man a tip for having put up with her, parting reluctantly with a 5 euro bill, a wide and fake smile plastered on her face and a thank you so much leaving through gritted teeth.

thankful to be out of the car and near anywhere she could get herself a coffee, rowan made her way inside, in search of a coffee shop more than anything else. her search was quickly derailed however, from a buzz coming from her phone. another text from max.

‘hope you enjoyed the ride’

‘maybe it would’ve been better if you were driving’

‘maybe

but now you have a plane to catch, get your ass to your gate!!!’

‘i never booked a flight??”

‘i did

sending you over the information now’

and sure enough, within a few seconds time, her phone buzzed with another notification, an email forwarded to her in screenshots with all information necessary for her to board the next flight to monaco, which left in a bit more than an hour. just enough time to go through security and maybe enjoy a coffee at the gate, if she turned her steps to strides that would match a marathon runner. god she needed a smoke. anything to fill up her lungs sounded so damn good. but she quit ‘conventional’ smoking a few months ago -curtesy of her ex- and she wasn’t about to pick it up again now.

instead, she put on her big girl shoes, strapped them up and determined to yell at max to his face for ruining her day, she started going through all the airport motions she hated with a passion. a couple kilometeres of walking through the unending hallways of the airport, rowan found herself in front of her gate which was oh so conveniently house also to a starbucks. without thinking of her bleeding wallet she got herself a venti iced salted caramel macchiato and sipped it as she waited to board.

her mind was surprisingly quiet considering the circumstances, but she could barely register what had happened, much less overthink it as the caffeine was still slowly working its magic in her system. there was not a memorable thing about the airport, but she absentmindedly made a point of noting the blue on the seats, the yellow-ish beige of the curtains, even how many outlets were around here and how strategically and practically they were placed. to her surprise and amusement, it looked like there were enough outlets for a busy day. rowan also really wanted to people watch, but her plans fell short when she realised that in her near vicinity the only people were herself and the nice lady at the gate who was waiting patiently to get the order and board rowan into the plane.

the call finally came and rowan had her ticket checked and escorted into the plane, past where she thought she’d be seated and straight into business class. max hadn’t cheaped out on the expenses, and probably unbeknownst to him, didn’t make anything too extravagant that would leave her in an awkward situation. business class was not first class and it certainly wasn’t his private jet. an uberx or whatever they were called was more than a simple uber, but it still wasn’t a rented limousine or anything like that. and now that rowan was caffeinated -still not quite ready to face the weird day ahead, but at least caffeinated- she could appreciate how he didn’t go all out. it didn’t seem like a desperate cry for help or attention. it seemed like what it probably was: getting her there and having her arrive in comfort, which was greatly appreciated. it didn’t make up for the fact that he dragged her out of the comfort of her own bed and house on a fucking whim, though.

when she finally planted her feet in monaco soil, rowan was looking around like a lost puppy, trying to see if max had rented out yet another car to drive her around, or if she could take her own cab this time around, feel a bit more like a person and herself. god forbid anything that involved max would ever feel normal.

a black aston martin vantage caught her eye -just because she got out of racing what felt like a lifetime ago didn’t mean her love for anything on wheels faltered- and its driver was none other than today’s nemesis, the man responsible for all her trouble the past two weeks and jesus christ he looked good with his hands nonchalantly on the steering wheel. she could make out his sandy blond locks and the structure of his face through the tinted glass and that was enough to purposely walk towards the supercar.

seeing her walk towards him like that was almost menacing and max’s excitement only grew. the uncertainty rowan brought was now something expected, something he’d come to cherish, knowing that she wouldn’t just vanish again. deciding to help her out as much as he could, he stepped out of the car, opened the passenger side door for her and met her halfway, taking her bags.

“i can do that myself” she protested, but max was too quick, already a few steps ahead with her luggage in hand.

“hi yourself. yes, it is a nice morning” he mocked at her lack of curtesy, not because he was bothered by it, more because he could. “can’t you let me be a gentleman for once?”

“i thought you were never gentle.”

“i do have a reputation to uphold, trouble.” he turned around and gave her a knowing wink. he felt a warmth in his chest after seeing how well she remembered their first real conversation.

the car ride was silent, but in true them fashion, it was not an awkward one and max was thriving, convinced that this mistake was the biggest right he’d ever done. the rules were simple and not constrictive, he felt free. in the midst of a season that put immense pressure on him, as the reigning world champion with criticism that regardless of his hard earned lead in the current championship, this would be the second win ‘handed’ to him, this was how he’d truly relax, get away from it all. it was hard to keep the smile forming on his lips, or it would be if he tried even a little bit.

“why am i here, verstappen?” rowan broke the silence and he couldn’t actually decipher her tone. was she being simply inquisitive? was this a question meant to put him in the spot, give her a way out? either way, he wouldn’t reply with anything else but the facts he saw.

“because you want to. you could’ve told me to fuck off about a dozen times.” it was a reminder she needed, but didn’t really appreciate. she opened her mouth to protest, but max cut her off. “and because we need a distraction. wasn’t that the deal?”

“yes…” came her begrudged reply after a few moments of trying to think of a comeback, a reason to tell him to turn the car around and let her go home.

in all honestly, her home didn’t feel like home anymore. although she wasn’t very familiar with the streets of monte carlo, it felt more like home than her own neighbourhood. max being there didn’t hurt either. in fact, he was the reason this place felt so nice instead of a need to burn to the ground. so many things had happened there and their time together, no matter how weird or short, helped her feel like it wasn’t the end, like there was a way to move forward. unorthodox, selfish, maybe even a little bit toxic -only time would tell. but a way nonetheless.

the rules were that max was not to get dragged into her shit, and she was not get dragged into his. fair, simple and important enough. so if she wasn’t to break those rules, she needed to get out of her head; she needed him to get her out of her head.

“will you make good on your promise?”

“i always do. but what promise?” he turned to look at her, confusion clear on his face.

“that you’d make me cum better than my fingers.” desperate times called for desperate measures and rowan was starting to be a master at that. she could never remember herself being so vulgar in the past, and that in itself was making her blush and look straight ahead into the open road, even though her words did not falter.

“all in good time, trouble. let’s get you settled in first.” his voice was warm, sweet and surprisingly, his words didn’t make her want to open the door and throw herself into the traffic. instead, she felt her priorities shift as she remembered how good it felt to just be in his company, forcing herself to take in the moment and things one step at a time. there was no rush and despite of what she’d like to convince herself of, this wasn’t a plainly physical transaction. max had made that clear; it wasn’t just about sex. it was about a distraction, sex being part of it. maybe she could finally let go and be. even for once in her life.

silence laced the atmosphere once again and neither of them cared to break it, not even when they were out of the car and into the elevator, on their way up to max’s apartment. what did change was that max was holding her luggage on one hand while the other travelled along her back, in an aimless back and forth motion. he didn’t even realise he did it until he needed the hand to get his keys. rowan hadn’t said anything, she just enjoyed the relaxing sensation, until it stopped, bringing her back to reality, eyes opening to see the elevator doors doing the same.

“home sweet home. i trust you know the way around the house.” max said as soon as he unlocked the door, going straight to his bedroom, with her bags still in hand…?

“what are you- my bags!”

she rushed behind him, trying to stop max from kidnapping her belongings.

“what?” he said with a chuckle, hearing her footsteps behind him on the marble floor. “oh did you really think you’d be spending your days on the couch with your clothes messed up in your little bag?” max turned to face rowan, amusement clear on his face.

he was giving way too much, but he didn’t know it yet. under any other circumstances he’d notice that this was a limit he might consider twice before crossing. rowan sleeping in his bed, taking up space in his closet, no one he’d known for that little had ever had those ‘privileges’. but this was an overthinking free zone, no second thoughts while she was there. that was his own rule in their… whatever that was.

“but the couch is sooo comfortable!”

“stop whining and settle in”

and she did, without bothering to weigh out the pros and cons, the significance behind his words and actions. rowan had to know by now that with max, what he said was what he meant. it was a strange thing to get used to, for sure. it was also liberating, having to focus less on subtext like she was analysing salinger in school all over again. it had been a while since nothing had been complicated, and while it would take a few shakes of her head to keep her from drifting away and creating her own scenarios and meanings, it was a good thing.

a couple hours later found them in the couch she used to call her bed, comfortably sitting next to each other while a scifi movie played on the tv that neither of them paid any real attention to. the coffee table was full of empty take out boxes, to which rowan protested, thinking of max’s diet. her concerns were quickly dismissed by a gesture of his hand and a scoff, followed by him opening the ubereats app on his phone and asking her what she was in the mood for, to which rowan simply said ‘surprise me’.

the buildup to the movie’s climax found them next to each other. rowan had both her feet on the soft grey cushions, both knees bent. one leg was resting against the cushion, while the other, her right one and the one right next to max, was propped up. max on the other hand was not exactly sitting, his body spilled on the couch, taking up much more space than he normally would, still leaving the girl with enough to do the same.

so when his left hand reached and touched her skin, she should’ve seen it coming. her jean shorts were not doing much to cover her up -not that she needed to; he’d seen all of her before- and still left a lot of her legs exposed. it would be a blatant lie if she said she hadn’t thought of using it to get his gears turning, even as an afterthought when she hastily got dressed that morning. rowan had never been one to dress or do anything for male approval, and she wasn’t about to start now. but the past week had her head filled with thoughts of him, and when a small voice in her head told her when she was so unexpectedly woken up by his call, that she might get to see him, the thought of holding even the slightest bit of power over him, provoking as subtly as possible, shot a thrilling sensation up her spine.

that power trip did not end with just a pair of loose jean shorts that were just tight enough around her waist and short enough to not be skimpy, and a simple, black, skin tight tank top. it continued with pretending to ignore how his hand felt on her thigh, how close he was to her core which had never really gone to sleep to be woken up all this time. she kept ignoring him even when he squeezed, and from the side of her eye she caught how his fingers tensed up and his knuckles turned white while she was taking the pain it caused in small surges of pleasure. she even managed to ignore him when his grip loosened and his fingers got busy tracing patterns on the reddened skin. but she couldn’t ignore him enough, a triumphant smile appeared on her lips that max was too quick to catch on.

“are you that happy to have the protagonist die and never see his family again?”

“oh yeah, dude’s a complete asshole.”

“nice try, rowan.” her smile was matched with a smirk from max who had been anything but oblivious to her reactions, eager to get something out of her and finally, he did.

they remained silent and max kept his gentle caress, slowly teasing the girl next to him. rowan had a plan of her own. she’d been made, yes, but he gave himself away: he was watching. and if he was watching, she was going to give him a show. bringing her right index finger against her lips, the tip of her nail found her teeth. if he wasn’t going to look her way again, it would seem like she was just biting her nail. if he paid attention though, he would see how the pad of her finger slid across her bottom lip, how her cheeks hollowed just a bit and maybe even notice her tongue darting against it. if max could tease her with a promise of what could be, so could she.

as her lips pursed against her finger, she stole a side glance to her right, and saw max’s chest puff with a breath he’d hold for a good couple seconds before reminding himself to exhale again and another triumphant smile made its way to her face.

“what are you doing?”

like hell she’d give him a straight answer.

“waiting to see if you’ll ever make good on your promise.”

now there was no mistaking which promise she was referring to, or her desire. all that was left was for max to finally make a move. she could be the one to make the move, gods knew how much she wanted to straddle him, feel him against her while their lips clashed. but she also liked the chase, the tease and seeing him break, perhaps she liked that even more.

“be patient, baby.” he saw right through her and paid her back with the same coin. “we do have a movie to finish, anyway.”

in the meantime, ever so subtly, max kept moving millimetres closer to rowan bit by painful bit, until she could feel his hot breath against her neck and her hair standing in response. slow, calculated fingers brushed her hair from her neck, as he took in her scent and continued to caress lightly all her sensitive spots; the one behind her ear and her collarbone received special attention. he would mutter any comments he had on the movie, lips brushing against her earlobe or her jaw. rowan never bothered to actually listened to a word that came out of his mouth, only how they felt when they hit her skin.

the end credits rolled and neither of them moved. max’s hand was still on rowan’s thigh, fingers tightening on the soft flesh when he felt her relax, just to remind her that this wasn’t over; it hadn’t even begun. he was still whispering nothings her way, talking about the movie or something else that the girl never paid any attention to.

soon, the look in her eyes when she turned to face him turned from playful to wanton. the way she looked at him, impatient but keeping still and true to her own game, almost ready to break her perfectly innocent composure and oh so close to falling apart. until she did.

tired of waiting, rowan let max have the win and with a swift move came on top of him, legs now on either side of his, trapping him in place. she was hesitant, careful of giving away too much too quickly. she already got carried away once, after all. as it turned out, there was no need for her inhibitions; besides, max was the only one who could tear them down so quickly. his hands found her neck and drew her close, finally kissing her again. he sighed at the feel of her lips against his into the kiss and he felt rowan do the same. some sweet, well deserved relief.

his hands quickly travelled down to the familiar road from her neck to her chest, stopping only when his palms were full with her tits, fingers ready to knead the skin, even over her shirt, find, tease and tweak on her nipples. he wasted no time doing just that, getting reacquainted with her soft spots, remembering instinctively what made her tick.

rowan was busying herself with stretching the collar of his shirt, fingers reaching underneath, scratching his skin with a dire urgency, desperate to get him moving hard and fast, like she knew he could. max would indulge her, just not yet. she was making him lose his mind, that had not changed nor faltered from the moment they met. but without any substances also messing with his head, he found he could take his time, mess with her a bit more instead.

he could have more control over himself, take his time, look past the feeling of her nails against his skin, the small sounds when he applied just the right pressure on her breast, and tease her a little more. or so he thought, until his mind raced to how her mouth felt elsewhere, besides his lips, until he remembered how soft the skin on her belly felt beneath his fingers as he travelled down lower, to her equally soft pussy. relinquishing all control of his mind over his body in favour to feeling her now he grabbed her by the waist and turned her over on the couch, getting on top of her.

he fumbled against the button and zipper of her shorts, erratically trying to get them off her. the jean fabric was too thick for his liking at the moment and in perfect sync, rowan did the same to his pants, sharing his feelings in more ways than he realised.

she needed to get him out of those clothes, positive that they were hiding all treasures she could ever want beneath them. quickly, they gave up on trying to get the other rid of their clothes; it was too difficult and time consuming for the state they were in, each focusing on their own. not soon enough, they were in their underwear, lost in each other’s form.

rowan thought that perhaps she’d gotten used to his bare torso, from all the days he spent parading around without bothering to put on a shirt, even for modesty’s sake. she still found herself admiring his collar bones, his broad shoulders and chest, his toned abdomen and when her eyes reached his legs she was gone. the soft skin on bulky thighs that was just begging for her attention, just slightly less than his boxer-covered crotch was enough to leave her frozen in place.

for max, seeing rowan like that, only in a pair of lacy panties, sprawled on his couch, was nothing short of a sight to behold. the afternoon light was not allowing for a single detail to be left to the imagination and he was taking everything in, as if it was the first time. in a way, it was, making everything even more exhilarating.

senses were heightened; taste was not altered by the foul taste of weed and that alone opened up a whole new realm of possibilities to explore that neither of them had the patience to list out but knew were there. smell was dominant, the room already filling up with the scent of sex, while most of all, there was nothing making their limbs numb, the other’s skin underneath their palms felt more real, and there was an urgency that could be finally converted into action.

within a matter of nanoseconds, rowan had gotten up while max was bending forward, meeting her halfway when their bodies collided, arms wrapping tightly around the other, lips clashing in a not so tender kiss. rowan heard herself moan into max’s mouth, a sound of pure relief that didn’t fail to grind his gears, fingers quickly finding her neck and pulling her even closer, not giving her much chance of escaping until he was done, setting the tone for the rest of their afternoon. as long as she kept moaning for him, he’d have more to take and more to give.

with eyes still closed and lips still attached, lost in her, max lead them slowly and carefully -more to not break contact than for the sake of being careful and not tripping on the way- to the bedroom. a familiar enough setting, and there was a thought that switching things up might be preferable, which was quickly dismissed in the name of comfort, spaciousness and some relevant privacy. backtracking to the bedroom, max allowed himself to fall on the mattress and finally broke the kiss.

“sit on my face, baby.” leaving rowan dumbfounded. “did i stutter, love?” he played on her surprise, to which rowan didn’t bother with a verbal response.

‘ask and you shall receive’ was the only thought through her mind as she took off her underwear and positioned herself above his head, slowly lowering her core until she felt the contact, making her legs shake just a little but managed to come to a halt in her descent.

his hands quickly and expertly wrapped around her thighs, immediately applying his strength to bring her even further down, until he could feel her thighs mushing his face. once he was content with the positioning, he got to work. only this time, it wasn’t going to be slow or an exposition of his technique.

this time around, it was about needing his face covered with her juices until it was the only thing he’d be able to smell and taste for a week. it was about devouring the sensitive flesh, taking in as much of her as he could. a selfish endeavour that included hard sucking of her folds, teeth scraping those very same, tender spots and tongue working to quench this newfound and unique thirst.

it almost wasn’t about rowan’s pleasure at all. but she didn’t care, it didn’t matter. all that mattered is that it felt too damn good. not only how it felt like eating her pussy was keeping him alive, but how his hands didn’t allow her to move, highlighting that this was not about her; it would not be over until he was satiated, whether that meant she came five times or none at all. and for some reason, that exact feeling was what was driving rowan to the brink of madness only when combined with how his tongue brushed her clit and lapped against it. he was a rabid dog and she was heading to the same direction.

no matter how good it felt, it wasn’t enough. her hands reached for her nipples, trying to bring in some extra stimulation. it worked, as her fingers found max’s rhythm and got in sync, but yet again, it just wasn’t enough. wave after wave of pleasure, something was missing; she was empty. she needed him inside her mouth, her cunt, somewhere.

“max… please…” darkened blue eyes shot open and glared at her, with no stop in his motions. “let me… let me turn around.” words came out between sharp breaths and moans, vowels mixing together. when max didn’t comply with her request, she knew she needed to try harder. “please… i need to feel… you… please.” he didn’t understand, and he wasn’t done, but those pleas made his knees weak. with the first chance he got, he raised his hands from her thighs to her hips, lifting her up and prompting her to turn around, helping as much as he could while never letting her forget that she was not the one in charge.

as soon as her knees touched the mattress again, max’s mouth was again working on her pussy, almost distracting her from her mission. the empty feeling returned soon though, reminding her that she needed to get to work if she wanted to be able to get the most out of her body and what he was doing, how he was making her feel. bending down, her mouth found his cock almost by instinct and she wrapped her lips around it as tightly as she could, as if it held her life inside, determined to get it back inside her.

she couldn’t know if she forgot to swallow or she was just salivating that much at the feeling, the taste of the sensitive skin on her tongue. regardless, rowan was soon testing the limits of her gag reflex time and time again, pushing his cock further down her throat even just a little with each bob of her head. it was all becoming too much, the sensations on her pussy, his feeling in her mouth, her need and striving for more with each passing second, it was making her dizzy. that and the fact that she was too preoccupied to remind herself to come up for air more frequently, letting her body reach its limit at choking on max’s dick.

rowan was still trying to grind herself against his face, get more friction, find a way to let him know that she needed something inside her to accompany his tongue even for just a few seconds, it would be enough to finally get her over the edge. all her efforts were in vain though, and they would continue to be, even as his load hit the back of her throat, hips bucking to get himself further inside her and rowan gagged but tried her best to keep in place and suck even harder.

with max not nearly satiated but with a bit more clear head and rowan still out of her mind, he guided her gently off him and turned her around to bring her up. he needed her to taste herself on his tongue, know exactly what it was that made her feel like that. and tasting himself on hers didn’t hurt as a small, triumphant smile shone through their kiss.

rowan was still lucid enough to assert herself, although her body worked on autopilot. max’s hands travelled to her back and sides, grabbing firmly and hungrily at anything he could find. not letting that stop her, the girl was quick to straddle him. her legs locked tightly around his hips, and with very little effort she finally felt him almost slip inside her, filling her up in an instant. the shock of the sensation, of the newfound kind of pleasure mixed with the slightest bit of pain of stretching around him made her stop in her tracks, movements frozen in time as her eyes shot wide open and turned to the ceiling.

max on the other hand was more quick to adjust, ready to feel more and his hands locked on her hipbones as his pelvis moved, creating much needed friction. this helped rowan adjust, realise what was going on and for a few minutes, she allowed herself to enjoy it. she was coming back to her senses, in a way, as if her brain was finally allowed to work again to let everything sink in. alas, that didn’t last. turns out, max was not a fan of repetition and was quick to change the rhythm and pace, almost violently moving his body against hers, as the sound of skin against skin was almost drowned out by her cries and his grunts. it felt as if with each thrust he was reaching even deeper into her and rowan could only think of one word: how. but she wasn’t going to complain. even if she wanted to, words would fail her.

when he slowed down, presumably to take a breath, rowan took matters into her own hands, still not satiated. she balanced herself on her hands which she placed on his chest, and let her body take over once more. there was no telling if there was any rhythm in the frantic movements of her hips, her only indicator being her own pleasure. her eyes had been closed, too focused on the sensation of his hard cock inside her to ruin it with any other sense. touch was the only one that mattered. how his skin felt beneath her fingertips, how his fingers were bound to leave bruises on her hips, how she could never explain the ecstasy inside her, but she knew it was still touch.

despite feeling her thighs burning, rowan was unyielding; still moving against him, riding the man beneath her as if her life depended on it, her muscles were starting to give up. in trying to find a more comfortable position, she removed her hands from his chest and replaced them with her entire torso, almost falling on him, all while trying not to miss a single beat. max caught her in the very last moment, just before her head was millimetres away from collapsing on his neck, by grabbing her by the hair, pulling her up.

rowan’s mouth hung agape, hair unruly and all over her face, eyes barely open and darker than he’d ever saw them and max had never wanted to fuck the everloving shit out of somebody else as much. the same hand that was holding her up by the hair twisted the fingers around the strands and rowan winced in pain, which max was quick to wash down with a kiss, bringing her face close enough to clash their lips together. all while rowan was practically shaking against him. he almost took pity on her. almost.

“is my baby close?” the fist coherent sounds in a long time, rowan took a while to process but was quick to respond with a shake of her head and another loud moan. if only he knew how much closer calling her that brought her.

his free hand gently touched her back, signalling that she could relax, take a break, he could take over. and he did take over, as his fistful of hair raised her body just enough so he could slide his hand from her back between them and reach her cunt. fingers teased, taking a few seconds to find her clit. and once he was sure he had it, he could keep it up, max resumed his thrusts. hard and fast, not caring about going deep this time around; he just followed his body and kept doing what felt right. and apparently what felt right for him also felt right for her. he could feel her tightening around him -as if that were possible- and her breaths became quick and shallow. now it was only a matter of a few seconds and keep doing exactly what he’d been doing.

the pieces of his plan came together as rowan came apart, writhing on his cock, as her body contorted and her mouth was busying itself with words he couldn’t comprehend in the midst of his own haze. she felt so fucking good, she looked so fucking good and all that was his. only his. all this was because of and for him. he’d made her feel like this, he’d made her look like that.

it seemed like rowan was slowly coming down from her high, regaining her composure. but max wasn’t about to have that, not when he was so close himself. he removed his hand from her pussy and reached for her tit instead, feeling how perfectly it filled up his palm while her nipple had been begging for attention even after everything. and who was he to deny her? fingers got busy fondling the soft skin of her breast, while tweaking the nipple, and rowan sucked in her breath and almost protested.

she’d had enough. all that teasing and edging only to lead to her feeling filled to the brim as his cock caressed the perfect spots with every thrust and his fingers just knew how to move against her clit had her seeing stars. and yes, it was enough. but her hips were still bucking against his, and her pussy was still dripping, a direct manifestation of how she just needed more. and more he gave her. sure, she was sensitive. but for the first time in her life, that didn’t mean stop; it meant that a second orgasm was closer than ever.

and as max reached even closer his own climax, he traded any finesse for even harder thrusts, inevitably getting deeper. and as that happened, rowan felt like she was a backseat driver in her own body, which had grown limp. hoarse sounds escaped her scratched throat and as max’s cock twitched inside her, and that was the final straw. not only feeling it along with the pain from her hair still in his grip and her sensitive nipple being borderline abused, but knowing that he was coming inside her, that she’d made that happen all on her own, brought rowan past the edge again.

max may or may not have been totally oblivious to rowan’s second orgasm, being too focused on the unique sensation that it was to come inside her when she was like that. had he the mind, perhaps he would have realised that what made this time so special was the girl’s own climax. but in the end, it made little to no difference for either of them. they both got what they wanted; everything that had been promised and more.

they shared another breathless yet soft kiss, before he helped her off him, and she did need the help. her legs were almost too sore to close, something she’d definitely feel the next morning among other things that she couldn’t even begin to list.

“so that was… something.” max broke the silence and rowan laughed.

“yeah, you can call it that.” she tried to roll over and get up, take a shower, get dressed, her usual routine, but her legs weren’t cooperating.

“stay here.” it was something between a command and a plea, as he extended his arm, making room her her to lie on his chest. rowan complied, but she was still running her mouth, the adrenaline still had not quite worn off.

“is that what we’re doing now?”

“it’s what we’ve done before.” except you went and left like a thief, max wanted to add but bit his tongue. there was no reason for this, not now.

the sun was beginning to set and when he woke up, the moon was gently shining through his window, providing little light. but he didn’t need to see to feel her weight against him, her soft breath on his skin. he wrapped one arm around her waist, bringing her even closer and closed his eyes again with a dreamy hope that when he opened them again, she’d still be there.

----------------------------------------

if you've made it this far, thank you. i understand that this took three months to be delivered and i do have excuses, but you probably don't care for them. it still took three months less to be completed than part one, so i'll give me that much heh!

so if this has an abrupt ending, i'm sorry. but there are too many things going on at the moment to have the anxiety of another wip in my mind. maybe someday i'll get back to patching any holes. perhaps it will be "and they were rommates!!! the dlc" or some shit.

rowan has a backstory (in contrast to any other female main characters i've ever written for smut fics) that would be fun to explore someday, because i do like her. and i'm sure you'd like her too.

as always, your feedback is welcome and appreciated! i love you all for sticking with this story, taking the time to read it!

take care, have fun and BE SAFE THOSE FUCKERS HAVE NEVER HEARD OF A CONDOM JFC

taglist (sorry if i forgot someone!!):

@whathesaids @sriusun @punkladymoes @atlanticowe @shyartisanvoidwagon

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 smut #f1 #theo rambles #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #original named female character

297 notes · View notes

galaxyedging · 11 months

Text

A little Halloween visit to my Pedro Boy motel.

Agent Ortega x f!reader, The Thief x f!reader

(My Ortega and Reader from Trust and my Thief from New Year's Eve.)

WC:3.9k

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Cum eating. Blow job. Literal magical sex. Blood and gore.

Summary: The motel usually makes dreams come true. On Halloween, things get even more magical.

Part of And It Just Keeps Getting Better

Halloween Weekend

Mrs Lord pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Her eyes were beginning to ache from going over paperwork. It just so happened that Halloween fell on one of their Fantasy Weekends and she was determined to make it memorable. Everything had to be perfect from the themed mocktails to the costumes, oh boy, would there be costumes. The thought of the guys all dressed up was almost too much. The clients would go nuts. Almost entirely lost in her vision she didn't realise that she was being watched. Something was stalked through the house towards her. It took its time, keeping its footsteps slow and gentle so as to not make a sound. It was only when it was right by her paperwork covered bed that she saw it

"I vant to suck your blood. Blah!" The creature announced as it pounced on her.

"Maxwell!" She playfully admonished. "You'll crumple my paperwork!"

"Sorry, Mi Vida. I just can't help it. You look good enough to eat." He managed to get out around his fake fangs.

"To eat, huh?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

That's how Max in his leather posing pouch and little black cape came to be face down between her legs for the next half an hour, thankfully minus the plastic glow in the dark fangs, while she deliberated over the food menu. Once she was satisfied in more ways than one, it was her turn to suck.

"Pathetic fallacy." Ezra mumbled as he looked out of his window.

Gregor lifted his head from the book he was reading. "Huh?"

"Oh nothing. It just seems like the weather has decided to join us in the festive mood. There's a storm coming in."

"I'm going to check the storm shutters just in case those clouds don't blow over. We've got enough food and water if we get cut off. Can you check the radios are all charged and handed out?" Joel asked Dave as he checked his tool box.

"Were you a survivalist in a past life?" Dave ribbed his friend.

"Something like that." Joel muttered heading out.

"Mrs Lord, I took down some of your decorations outside. If the wind picks up it'll rip through them like a tornado in a trailer park." Jack deposited the gathered decorations on the desk.

"Thank you, Jack." Mrs Lord gave him a half smile. It was all she could give him with the stress this weekend on her head.

Everything had been fine, all but one guest had checked in. All the preparations were complete. Then the sky started to darken. The weatherman had called for clear skies, it was unnerving to see anything but. With their location they had prepared for situations like this. They had a backup generator, emergency supplies, they were in a good position should the worst happen.

Mrs Lord let out a steadying breath. "It'll be fine."

Lightning flashed across the sky, it was almost lost against the lights of the reception room. The accompanying thunder was definitely lost against the sounds of the party in full swing. Almost all of the guests were happily paired with a partner for the night. Din, in his Knight costume, had a woman on each arm. Ezra in his best Pirate Captain threads had accepted a client. Oberyn was dressed as a god in golden robes, much to Dieter's delight, who was dressed, fittingly, as a housecat. His 'costume' consisted of a black jumper, black sweats and cat ears. It was almost as half hearted as Jack's Cowboy costume, which consisted of his normal clothing. Even Joel had put in a bit more effort with his pale face paint and neck bolts. He figured Frankenstein's Monster was fitting for him.

As the pairings filed out, ducking under the awning to hide from the driving rain, Maxwell noticed a guest, dressed in old wild west clothing, standing with both the Marcuses.

"Gentlemen." Maxwell greeted them. "What seems to be the problem?"

Pike spoke up "It seems that Mr Ortega here was booked in with Max Phillips but he's nowhere to be found. My client is missing and Moreno's was a no show."

Max thought for a moment. "I know we have one no show. So where is your client? And Phillips?" Max Phillips may be a brash jerk but clients liked him well enough. He always left them in a euphoric daze as they checked out. He didn't mix much with the other employees but he was a busy man. He worked in the city by day and spent his evenings working at the motel. Beyond that no one really knew much about him.

Maxwell did know that Max was very professional and had never missed an appointment. "Let's go look for him."

The short leather skirt creeping up her thighs was definitely out of her comfort zone.

"Come as you aren't night." She reminds herself as she hurries along to the party that she is late for.

Stopping once again to pull down her skirt, a voice from behind you makes her jump. "I think it looks great."

Spinning around, she found the voice's owner leaning in a doorway. His long legs crossed at the ankle as he leans against the frame. Taking in how strikingly handsome he is, she hopes that he's that man she's here to meet.

"Marcus?" She tries.

"And you would be…?" He holds out his hand.

For a second she wondered why he wouldn't already have her name, since the host assured her that he had discussed her desires with Marcus and set everything up for her. Maybe he didn't give him her name to protect her in case she backed out, she reasons. Giving him her name she shakes his hand.

"Come on in." Giving her an easy smile he leads her into his room.

Once inside, Marcus is a little more forward than she expected. His thick fingers dig into her thigh and scalp as he pins her to the wall. His lips don't leave hers until she's breathless. All her insistence on taking things slow was rapidly flying out of the window and into the storm beyond. There was no hesitation left in her when his fingers hooked under her panties to move them to the side. With the first swipe of his fingers across her now throbbing clit, she decides that she wants him now.

Taking a breath to gather her courage she manages to say the word that's been hidden in her fantasies. "Daddy, please make me come."

Marcus lets out a deep chuckle as his fingers breach her, stretching her in the most delicious way. "Don't worry, Sweetness. Daddy will make you come hard."

Marcus made good on his promise, his fingers pumped in and out of her relentlessly until that spot inside her couldn't take anymore. Her walls clenched around him, pulling his fingers in as he pulled her in to kiss her neck. He kisses and suckes on her pulse point so hard that she knows she's going to have marks later. He only stops to lick his fingers clean of her cum before returning to her neck and sucking harder than before. No, not just sucking, biting.

A scream cut through the air. It wasn't unusual to hear screams echoing around the courtyard. It was unusual to hear one so clearly blood curling.

"That came from upstairs!" Pike called before taking the stairs two at a time with Ortega hot on his heels.

The two men had been in the courtyard trying to sort out alternative arrangements if Max Phillips wasn't found. Pike was sure Oberyn wouldn't mind some more company for the evening. Ortega politely entertained the idea but Pike could see he seemed pretty set on Phillips. He thought this odd for a first timer but maybe Mr Ortega was just a man who knew what he wanted.

Pike ran down the narrow balcony zeroing in on the sounds of a struggle.

"You bastard!" A woman screamed before the door to the next room flew open. Out sprinted Max Phillips, the lower half of his face covered with blood. Pike was about to chase him when he saw the woman holding her neck, the red of her tank top darkened.

Ortega ran past "I've got him."

Pike had no other choice than to let the other man handle it as he administered first aid while waiting for Kyle. Joel had given the paramedic a call after hearing the commotion.

Once the woman was safely taken down to the small medical room, Pike tried to make sense of what he'd seen.

"He bit her?!" Moreno was stunned even with the evidence in front of him.

"It looks like." Pike sighed, still in disbelief.

"Was that some sort of kink he had? Did he take it too far?" Moreno mused out loud.

Pero had joined them when he heard the fuss. He muttered something under his breath in Spanish that only Moreno caught.

"You can't be serious." Moreno huffed a laugh. "A vampire?"

"We never saw him in the daytime. Or saw him eat or drink. His clients always checked out acting rather peculiarly. I have travelled to many places with such myths and seen things that I cannot explain."

Before either Marcus could react to Pero, a man approached them from the shadows. "Your well travelled friend is right. You have a vampire in your midst."

The man was very well dressed. He had on a white dress shirt, fastened with an expensive looking pair of cufflinks complimenting the even finer watch on his wrist. He wore a black bow tie that matched his vest in colour. Black dress pants and designer shoes adorned his lower half and the outfit was completed by a leaf pattern embroidered overcoat.

"Forgive me. I am Señor Ladrón. I have been searching for your vampire for a while. He had left quite the trail of victims." The man informed them as casually as if he had just told them to expect rain.

"Well, you found him. What do we do now?" Joel stepped out of the first aid room, closing the door behind him to give the recovering victim some privacy.

"We kill him." Señor Ladrón stated simply.

This seemed to be a good enough answer for Joel who simply nodded. Pero seemed satisfied too. Both Marcus's had seen some weird things during their time in law enforcement but a vampire would be pushing it. Nevertheless there was a bad guy on the loose and it was their job to stop him. The men paired off. Joel with Pero, Pike with Moreno. Señor Ladrón excused himself to gather some equipment from his car.

"Do you think we should be letting him walk around here by himself? The guy thinks vampires are real." Moreno asks Pike as they make their way through the motel.

"Max is my biggest concern. I'll have Din go check on our visitor." Pike edged his way around to the part of the motel that was under development.

The only light was the glow from the well lit side of the motel, the full moon and the occasional flash of lightning. Even Pike had to admit with all the vampire talk and it being Halloween night, the whole setup had him a little rattled. A little. That must be why he could have sworn for a second that he saw a light on in the last room on the block, even when they found it completely empty.

The cloaking spell worked perfectly as you watched the Chef and Superhero take a look around the room before walking off the way they came.

It didn't take much to lure the vampire into a trap. It was thirsty in more ways than one, so with your blood pumping and all that flesh on display, how could he refuse to follow you into one of the rooms that were closed for refurbishment. The spell you had cast on the room took effect almost immediately. The well-dressed vampire swayed on his feet. With a little support from you, he made it to the bed.

"What the fuc…?" Was all he managed before he was out like a light.

Studying his profile in the light of the full moon you thought it was a shame to kill someone so handsome. "Sorry, Gorgeous. I promise it's for a good cause."

Straddling him, you pressed the tip of the cedar stake to his chest lining up it before preparing to raise it. A flash of lightning was followed by the boom of the door being kicked open.

Ortega ran into the room, grabbing the stake in your hand. "Carrying out the ritual without me?"

"Just like you tried the last one without me." You snatch the stake back.

"I was going to include you but you seemed a little preoccupied."

"For the last time. That was a business dinner!"

"He didn't seem to think that. Even when I made it clear to him."

"What? That's why he reneged on the deal!"

"If he couldn't handle a six shooter aimed at his balls, he had no place in business."

A scream of frustration left you. "Aren't you bored of this?! A hundred and fifty years we've been at this. You betray me. I betray you. One hundred and fifty years and we're still both so stubborn that we can't trust each other. We can't love each other." You feel the weight of your words slip from your shoulders.

Ignacio Oretga usually presented an intimidating front unless he needed to turn on the charm. There was exactly one person and one person only who could bring out the soft demeanour he took on now. "Darlin', there hasn't been one second of the last a hundred and fifty years that I haven't loved you. Now trust is another thing entirely…" he grinned.

"Don't laugh at me." You pout.

Ignacio leans in to kiss your bottom lip poking out. "I'm not laughing at you. I would never!"

"Yes, you would!" You grin back at him, your fingers fiddling with his lapels. "I love you, too."

The first kiss between you in a decade sparks the old fire between you. The reason for you being in this motel is nearly forgotten as Ignacio lifts you as close to his body as he can. He's eager to refresh his memory of your body against his.

"Wait, My Love. We need to finish the ritual or our hundred and fifty years end here."

Ignacio's fingers lace between yours around the stake. "Allow me." He slips the wood from your hand.

Ignacio lines the stake up just as you did and prepares to raise to deliver the killing blow. Just as it had with you, the door bursts open. A familiar figure is back lit by the lighting outside from the worsening storm.

"Thief." You spit in its direction.

"Oh, I'm so much more than that." He laughs. "For example, tonight I'm a trader."

"What is it you want to trade?" Ignacio's eyes narrow on him.

"The vampire and the secret to securing a few more years of life for you both, in exchange for allowing me to feast on the energy from the ritual."

"But we have the…" You trail off as you see that the vampire is gone and all that remains on the bed is a faint mist. The potent tang of magic settles on your tongue.

"When you say 'feast on the energy'...?"

Ignacio presses, keen to get rid of your uninvited guest.

"It's simple. To increase the longevity of the ritual you must make love in the blood of the creature rather than just bathe in it. I simply wish to watch and feed off your passion." The Thief sat himself in a chair at the end of the bed as if the whole thing was a done deal.

"You're an Incubus?" You wonder aloud.

"Among other things." His brown eyes glint red with amusement.

Turning to Ignacio, you could see him weighing up the deal.

"We've done more exotic things in bed." Your lips quirk up at the memory. "Prague."

"Hmm. California in the 70's." Ignacio smiled, stepping closer his hands finding your hips as if he was engaging you in a dance.

"Amsterdam." You swayed to the old melody supplied by your memories.

"So we are in agreement?" The Thief snapped his fingers and the vampire reappeared.

"Yes." You say in unison with Ignacio.

Neither of you so much as glance at The Thief as you let muscle memory take over until the two of you are naked. A wispy tendril of red mist winds its way to you from the hand of The Thief. It licks up your bare skin increasing the sensitivity of every nerve it touches. When it pushes between your legs it almost brings you to orgasm in an instant. Ignacio seems similarly affected as his cock flushes red and weeps.

"Just a little gift from me. For being so gracious in accepting my offer." The Thief undoes his belt as he speaks before cupping the large bulge below it.

Ignacio presses a single kiss to your bare shoulder, it's enough to make your knees weak. With shaking hands the two of you manage to wield the stake. The weight of the two of you tumbling into bed pushes the stake into the vampire's heart. An explosion of thick, crimson blood covers you as you sink down into the bed. Ignacio is inside you before you know it, filling you with his cum as your convulsing body milks it from him.

The Thief moans in contentment as he strokes himself through his clothing. "Again."

The tang of copper rolls over your tongue as Ignacio kisses you. It takes only a fraction longer for the two of you to come this time. Your heels dig into the meat of his pert ass as you draw him deeper. His warm release drips out on the bloodied sheets below. He seems to have even more for you than usual.

"Again." The Thief groans as he starts to stroke his now bare length.

Ignacio fights through the fog of his mystical arousal to position you where he wants you. He now has you on all fours. After all these years there is still something primal about spearing you on his cock from this angle. He manages to last a little longer this time. Enough that he gets to enjoy the arch of your back as he pulls on your hair and the jiggle of your ass as he smacks into it. His cum gushes into you as he stutters out a groan. Each climax feels electric. He wants to fuck you over and over. Not just because of the spell but to make up for lost time. How had he been so stubborn as to miss so much as a day with you?

Gripping the bed frame you try to compose yourself as the last orgasm fades. Each one hits like plunging into the ocean. It hits hard before consuming you in its depths. Making the mistake of looking up you see The Thief with his head thrown back in pleasure. His hips chase his hand as his fucks into his fist. The sight of him so freely chasing his pleasure has you coming again.

Ignacio's hand lands firmly on your ass cheek. "I forgot my naughty girl likes to watch. Thief!"

The Thief still carries on jerking his cock as he acknowledges Ignacio.

"Why don't you join us? My wife has a very talented mouth." Turned on by his own words, Ignacio Jackrabbits into you hard until he comes again.

The Thief moves with inhuman speed pressing the tip of his cock to your lips before you realise he even left his chair. "Would you like a taste?" He strokes your cheek gently until you open up for him.

The precum gathered on his slit is like nothing you've ever tasted before. You find yourself sucking and bobbing your head in earnest just to get more. When Ignacio starts snapping his hips into you from behind, the force causes you to gag on The Thief's swollen head. The sound makes Ignacio throb inside of you. His wife choking on a cock while he fucks her from behind prompts another load of his seed to fill up your warm cunt. The warmth of him triggers another orgasm from you. Whatever this magic is, you want more of it. Not just for the sex but for how your husband feels inside and against you. Ever touch is heightened. You couldn't get any closer to him than you are right now. It soothes the ache in your heart from spending years without him.

The Thief utters something in an unrecognisable language as you swallow around him. He then pulls out with a slick pop. "I will still let you have a taste but I'm afraid I might be too rough while I chase my end."

The Thief proceeds to wrap his hand around his thick girth.The noise of his balls slapping against his fist while he groans deeply is enough to even affect Ignacio. Flipping you over, he mouths at your blood soaked tits. Sucking on each nipple until it aches. Each suck and bit builds another climax it only takes his fingers pressing to your clit for you to achieve it. You watch in fascination as Ignacio's cock spurts another load across your thigh without even being touched. Running your fingers through it, you greedily stuff them in your mouth.

"I've missed you so much." You pull your husband in for a kiss that evolves into a slower pace of love making. Slower, but no less satisfying as you both come twice in each other's arms.

The laguid, comfortable satisfaction that The Thief drinks down reminds him of his own love at home waiting for him. He's almost full and his cock aches for release. He starts to withdraw his magic from them. It's harder than he anticipated as they were already so much in love and lust. He finally does so as Ignacio has his wife's legs spread wide in the air to thrust impossibly deep inside her. Reaching out, he grips her ankle to steady himself as he prepares to finish himself off. He's so close, he can feel the heat in his spine. Looking down, he watches Ignacio's thick cock splitting his wife's tight pussy open. Her folds glisten with both their releases. Her puffy, pink cunt looks throughly fucked still it pulls her husband's cock deeper. He can feel their love and passion fueling the spell. The magic in the air ripples over his skin, his nipples tighten just before his balls do. His fist works incredibly fast to pump his overdue spend over the face of the beautiful woman underneath him. As he covers his face, her husband paints her insides. The scream that rips from her leaves her mouth open to catch The Thief's seed. She rides out her climax on his husband's cock while licking The Thief's cum from around her mouth. The Thief thinks that he got the better end of the deal. As the heavy energy in the room lifts, The Thief prepares to leave.

All the years you'd seen the man as nothing more than an annoyance. Someone who turns up now and again when your agenda's crossed. Now you were seeing just how powerful he was.

"Wait. That was…" All coherent thought leaves your brain as you look up at your husband practically glowing. Your eyes trace a bead of sweat from his forehead down the curve of his beautiful nose before dripping onto your bare chest.

The Thief chuckles. "If you think I know how to celebrate Halloween, wait until you see how I celebrate New Years."

Author's Note: I had a completely different vibe planned for this one but I'm just so happy to have finished something after going through a dry spell.

Tags: @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance @its-nebuleuse @sherala007

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #agent ortega #agent ortega x f!reader #the thief #the thief x f!reader #max phillips #maxwell lord #marcus pike #marcus moreno #joel miller #kyle hartley #mojo dojo casa sex house #the motel

36 notes · View notes