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Chapter Text

October is crisp even though the jean jacket buttoned shut around Max. Joyce couldn’t drive them to the pumpkin patch. So Jonathan volunteers, Nancy comfortable up front with him, over for the weekend just like Max. So it’s just the three of them stuffed snuggly in the backseats: Max and Will at the windows with El between them. Will chatters to the whole of the car, excited about Joyce finally letting him carve a pumpkin himself. Like he can’t handle a knife. Max and El share glances, El not aware of the custom and Max finding it a bit beneath them. But she knows the moment they touchdown in the dirt parking lot of whatever farm they’re going to, Will is going to take off like a shot. Jonathan and Nancy will probably leave them alone. It’ll just be the two of them.

Hands in their pockets as they wander away from the car, Will leaving them in the dust, El asks, “What is the point of this?”

Max shrugs.

“I guess we can just? Wander around and look at the pumpkins? I’m pretty sure Will’s mom gave Jonathan enough money for all of us to get one.”

El frowns, thick eyebrows coming together.

“But why?”

“So we can carve them and decorate them.” Max pauses beside hay bales and points to grinning gourds. “Like that. You carve out a face or whatever, put a candle inside, and that’s it. It’s called a jack-o’-lantern.”

El’s hand brushes Max’s dangling by her side, whether by accident or seeking closeness. Max holds her head high while grabbing El’s hand and lacing their fingers together. She leads them into rows of pumpkins, some already bashed open and attracting bugs. Scowling, Max tugs El deeper into the field, away from screaming kids and people clustering right at the front of the pumpkin patch. Morons.

“This is actually my first time at a pumpkin patch,” Max confesses when they’re finally alone. That time in the tunnels in Hawkins doesn’t count. “There’s not a lot of farms in San Diego. Sometimes a carnival would have pumpkins you can buy and carve, but nothing like this.”

They come to a stop in the middle of the field below a wooden pole and a slumped figure. Something in Max’s stomach lurches even though she knows it’s just a scarecrow. She can’t help the lurch or how the little hairs on her stand straight up. Shadowy things always tease the corners of her vision, and the scarecrow is barely better than that. Human but broken. Wrong. Starcourt is more like a nightmare than a memory, still too fresh to rationalize. So Max grimaces at her reaction, stupid, but just as quickly fights the tightness in her throat. She hates that someone had thought to put hay on the scarecrow’s head to give it hair. It’s curly at the ends from the wind whipping it about. Pale. Why must she see him everywhere?


When Max blinks hard and turns her head, El already waits for her. Deep, dark eyes glance to the scarecrow too but just as quickly flash back to Max. A smile wiggles on El’s lips. Even though the happiness it means to spread only brushes Max’s surface, she smiles back. At their sides, they’ve yet to let go of each other. Max’s everything is so tightly wound she thinks she’d cry if El weren’t holding her hand. She’s still so fragile months later, but there’s nothing she can do about it. El is the same. At least there’s that. 

“Come on,” El murmurs with her raspy voice cracking. She clears her throat, tries again, “What are you gonna carve on your pumpkin?”

El leads them away by their clasped hands, warm and alive against Max’s palm. She tosses one last glance to the scarecrow and its weak neck, head cocked down menacingly. Max can just picture the glare on the burlap face.

“Probably a scary face,” she finally says, almost tripping over a rut in the row. “If I can figure out how to give it angry eyebrows.”

Chapter Text

Two blankets from the Camaro provide some cushion between Max and the ground. Billy’s jacket draped around her shoulders helps shield her from the cool wind blowing in as the sun sets. The flickering fire a safe distance away helps even more. Oranges and yellows dance on her smiling face as she watches Billy across the way. He squats down beside another guy to help roll joints and block the wind from scattering their work. That leaves her and another girl waiting on them to finish, Max not entirely interested in conversation but humming on cue. They don’t know these people, have only just met them today while driving around, looking for a cool place to chill out. When Billy glances up briefly, tongue in his teeth as he concentrates, he winks. Max still flusters when he does that in public. They’ve not been free of Neil and Susan long enough for her to be so open with him.

Billy stumbles when he first pops up, blood rushing back into his bent legs. The guy they’ve met with the weed, Skyler, jolts with his hands out as if to catch Billy on the way back down. He’s a stringbean compared to Billy, and Max snorts thinking about Billy flattening this guy on accident. His girl, Summer, giggles behind the pinched end of the roach she keeps sucking on. She keeps offering it to Max, forgetting every time Max shakes her head. It’s too hot on her lips. She’d rather wait for Billy to swagger over here with a fresh joint and hog it a little since he can handle the heat. He’ll even let her so long as she lets him love on her. Now that they’re free, he can’t keep his hands off. Years and years of hiding just out of sight of prying eyes have built up so much affection in Billy. Even though he would sneer if Max said it to his face: that he’s sweet on her and that he’s almost cute when he’s not being a pervert.

The ground under Max gives a shudder when Billy drops back beside her like a sack of bricks. Big hands immediately scoop her up and drag Max against him, curling around her with his legs and body. Max is alive with nerves, throwing anxious glances to Skyler and Summer getting comfortable too as Billy mouths kisses to her throat. Nobody knows about them. No one knows about Neil and Susan back in Indiana or the relationship between them. It’s not branded on their skin or flashing in neon above their heads. To people like Skyler and Summer, they’re just a couple looking for a good time. Max swallows her trepidations and leans her weight into Billy, drops her shoulder to let him have more room. It’s just a few kisses until he lifts the lighter and the joint to her lips. He pinches the end in his fingers for her, holds it to her lips for her as Max fills her lungs with smoke. Through the white wisp curling off the cherry, she meets Skyler and Summer’s eyes as well as their chilled-out smiles. They’re practically melting into each other.

“Max,” Summer sighs like a warm breeze, “how long have you and Billy been together? You two seem so…” She flicks her hand in the air, the other caught in Skyler’s hair where his chin hooks over her shoulder. He’s all over Summer like Billy is with her. And yet Max wants to snort at the display. “I don’t know, like you two seem so… chill together and…”

A puff of smoke billows out of Skyler’s mouth when he drawls, “Like you’re soulmates.”

Max feels Billy’s sarcastic snort more than she hears it. When he takes a drag, the crackling of the paper and flower burning tickles her ear. He’s nice enough to exhale down wind rather than in Max’s face.

“If you believe in that kind of stuff,” Billy murmurs, actually trying to be nice instead of a jackass. Max smirks against Billy’s fingers holding the joint to her lips again. She feels along his sharp edges, knows if he weren’t pleasantly baked and a little horny that he’d tell these two off. They’re sharing their weed, though, so… “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

Skyler and Summer coo as one, holding on to each other tighter. Max tilts her head just so to meet Billy’s eyes. They share a look, a whole conversation, before she settles against him again, rubbing herself on him. 

“That’s so awesome, man. It was meant to be.”

“Our parents would not approve,” Max offers with a smirk.

“Definitely not,” Billy adds through his teeth and he sips air. When he exhales, his grin is oily and sleazy when he says, “Our parents would lose their minds if they knew.”

Skyler and Summer sigh together again, completely ignorant to the running joke. Max thinks the names Romeo and Juliet pass through the air, but she rebukes them with a twist of her head, seeking Billy’s lips. He grumbles against her at first, smoke still slipping out of his mouth. No objection comes when she dips through that gap, leaning harder into him to lap deeper in his mouth. Somehow Billy keeps his cigarette hand aloft while grabbing the back of Max’s head, taking control of what she’s started.

Who knows who’d started this thing between them, though. She won’t dwell on it and the murky history. Max just shuffles around in Billy’s embrace and sits in his lap, trading kisses while the fire roars behind them. If they fall down and fuck in front of these two, it won’t matter. Hell, Skyler and Summer would probably join them if the burning gazes on her back mean anything. To wrap her arms around Billy’s neck and moan with him is more freeing than them climbing into the Camaro and driving away last year. Max smiles against Billy’s eager lips when he tips their balance and splays her out on her back, blanket scrunched beneath them. She’ll take pawing at Billy openly and wanting him just as much as he wants her over anything she left in Hawkins, Indiana.

Chapter Text

Hands in his pockets, bored despite the screams around him and flashing lights, Billy barks yet again, “I said don’t run! What part of ‘don’t run’ do you not understand?”

Max whips her head around, still clinging to Lucas and El, and snaps, “We’re not, okay?”

Her mouth is still open to continue her sass, but a scream comes out instead. Another actor in the haunted house jumps out from an obvious alcove and roars at the teenagers. And just like every time before, Lucas’s shrill squeal fills the narrow area and the three of them take off with him leading the charge. They’re barely halfway through the damn house, haven’t even reached the outside portions yet where surely one of these brats is going to trip and eat shit in the gravel. The actors aren’t even that scary Billy thinks as he walks by the same person, scowling at them. Billy will grind his teeth to dust by the end of the night, burdened with babysitter for a bunch of sixteen year olds. Or chaperone, as Susan had put it nicely when he left with ticket money and a stern look from Neil. 

Billy grumbles all manner of curses under his breath just to blow some steam off. There are some older girls here, more his style and age. They all group up and cling and scream together just like Max and her friends, though. It’s not the best place to cruise around and pick a chick up. Actors popping out everywhere and trying to match their menace to their costumes really kills the vibe. Billy and the kids have seen worse, lived through worse. Maybe they’re still young enough to enjoy this kind of shit. Less jaded. Billy itches for a cigarette, knows he has to wait until he’s wandering the corn maze outside, the next part, to light one up. A beer and a quick handjob would suit him better, but that’s definitely not happening.

He almost breathes a sigh of relief when chilled, October air hits him in the face. He’s finally followed the dark, narrow passages through the haunted house and found the outside. A wisp of Max’s red hair teases his sharp eyes just before she darts into the corn maze. There’s only one path through the attraction. So Billy digs his soft pack out of his pocket and lights up, kicking up dust as he marches into the field.

He’s ready for bullshit. He’s been ready since Max slipped into his room two days ago, attitude calm for once, and begged him to drive her to this place. It’s the only thing teens in Hawkins are talking about, she explained. She offered him gas money, told him it would just be her, Lucas, and El. They just needed a ride. Sue caught wind of it all, nosy mother, and roped him into it. So he’s known for days what to expect: fog machines, cramped passageways, jumpscares, screaming. The actors rustling in the corn don’t surprise him, and he stares blankly at them whenever they reset and jump out at him. It’s probably only encouraging them to try and get a reaction out of him, tough guy and all, but he won’t budge. This is nothing compared to being dragged into a factory basement by his ankles and having his world turned upside down. These people are wasting their time.

“Yea, real scary, I’m shakin in my boots,” he murmurs around the filter of his cigarette. “You got me.”

The deeper he wanders in the corn maze, the more muffled the screams and music from the attraction become. He can hear himself think when he finds a rotting, ‘spooky’ scarecrow hanging on a pole somewhere in the field. Snorting, Billy turns his back to it after eyeing the burlap sack face to make sure it’s not some asshole in a costume. No sooner does Billy flick his Zippo open does the field around him shiver. Actors tiptoeing through the maze, searching for people to scare. Billy makes no point of keeping quiet or announcing himself. The cherry on his cigarette will give him away if his cloudy exhales don’t. Quiet falls over the field again, Billy’s eyes and ears now fully adjusted to the dark outdoors. It’s not unlike the quiet and thick air of Hawkins on cold nights. Even though they’re two towns over, far from the reach of anything that haunts Billy’s nightmares. It’s done, gate sealed. He’s fine.

Unbidden, lips dry from his cigarette, Billy blurts out, “You’re wasting your time trying to scare me. Plenty of kids wandering around, go bother them.”

A stalk or two around him rustles from time to time. Probably just an animal or the wind. The longer he stands here, cigarette burning through white paper and tobacco without him puffing on it, the more Billy can’t ignore that persistent rustling. Under the collar of his jacket, all the little hairs on his nape stand on end. It stings, and he slaps a hand under his curls to rub at the skin. Louder rustling, something bigger behind him. Blue eyes catch on the shadow of the scarecrow slumped above and behind him, turning the inky spot into something monstrous. Although he doesn’t mean to, he hears and smells the basement of the steel mill. Fertilizer spread around in pellets. Bleach and the gore of blood and tissue smeared on the floor, crawling towards each other.

Breaths steaming out like an engine, Billy whips around to face the rustling behind him. He jumps back a step or two from the pole supporting the scarecrow, the slim shape of it startling him in the dark. Panicked eyes throw a wild glance back up to the scarecrow, seeking out the face, wetness of eyes, a grin, something. It’s just a burlap sack with holes for eyes and a mouth. A husk. Not alive like him with cold air sucking the adrenaline and heat from him. Billy’s teeth ache when he clenches his jaw shut and sucks in an irritated breath.

“Come out,” he yells, hating how familiar this is. “You did your job, now get lost. Go scare somebody else.”

Silence. Not a single leaf on the corn stalks flutters. A dull ring drones in Billy’s ears.


“Jesus kid!”

He knows the voice long before he leaps like a cat and spins back around in the dirt. How Eleven has gotten separated from Max and Lucas, he’s not sure. Unlike him, she truly has nothing to fear here, could level the whole place with a swipe of her hand. She’s sixteen just like the rest of them but looks so small as she stares up at him. She glances around, looking for something too, but her eyes are still soft when they meet blue again. Billy’s gut reaction is to reject that softness, brush her off, and find his way through the maze to the other side. El shuffling forward and offering him a flash of a smile quells that instinct. 

“You fell behind, so I came looking for you… Max and Lucas are wandering around the maze. Do you wanna find them and scare them?”

Carefully no mention of his panic just now. She must have felt it somehow. When they’d first arrived, she shot Billy a look when he scowled at the haunted house. He knew even then, jamming his hands into his pockets, that this was going to be an uncomfortable night. Billy should be thankful it’s El who’s noticed. She’ll be the least likely to make a big deal out of it or try to coddle him—like Max does. Like he’s fragile or something even years after the fact.

Snuffing his cigarette out under his boot, Billy leaves El at the scarecrow when he grunts, “Be quiet or you’ll give us away.”

It’s the first fun he’s had all night when Max, afraid and separated from Lucas, walks backwards into him. And then almost falls on her ass when she jumps and shrieks. At least the night isn’t a total loss.

Chapter Text

“Aww that’s cute… Max, come in here.”

Instead of popping up from the couch she’s stretched out on, Max stabs the mute button on the remote and calls, “What? It’s your turn to fuck him, I did it this morning.”

Lounging in one of Billy’s t-shirts and clean panties, she’s freshly showered. And not interested in getting Steve’s slick all over her hands again, damn it. Despite the dead air between the living room and the kitchen, Max’s sharp ears pick up on Steve’s panting and the needy whine curling in the back of his throat. Billy hasn’t started yet. It’s too quiet. Steve will be plenty squirmy and needy and wet for the rest of the day, pawing at them to fill him up. It’s why they take turns wringing the heat out of him.

“You’ll get a kick out of this, seriously, come here.”

She’s never heard Billy giggle before. Cackle maniacally, sure, but never giggle. The elation in his voice right now is probably the closest he’ll ever get. Hum tickling her throat, Max leaves the TV muted as she rolls off the couch. Pale hands slap out to catch her momentum on the hardwood floor, throwing her body upright as she bounds for the bedroom. It must be good if Billy wants her to intrude on his turn with Steve. Max doesn’t even make it to the open doorway—left like that so she can hear them—when the omega’s sweetness stampedes into her nose. He’s even more ripe than when she’d woken up to him grinding on her thigh, Billy too deeply asleep to play with him.

So it’s no surprise to her, leaning against the doorjamb with her arms crossed, to find Steve kneeling naked on the floor. At the foot of the bed, Billy sits above him in only sweatpants. Big hands grab their needy lover by his hair and rub Steve’s face between his legs. Rubbing his nose in the exact thing he wants. Steve gives no struggle, just sits there on his bent legs splaying wide as he lets Billy use him. Blue eyes meet through the empty air, and Billy wrenches Steve’s head up. Maybe too roughly if not for Steve’s loopy state. Billy could slap him in the mouth, probably will at some point, and Steve will just want more. Even now with his head bent back in Billy’s grip, he whines so pitiful like a dog begging for scraps.

“He’s adorable,” Max drawls, jerking her head to flick hair back over her shoulder. “Is this what you wanted me to see?”

Billy hums to acknowledge her but doesn’t look away from Steve. Ruddy pink splashes across Steve’s cheeks and straight nose, bleeds into his throat. Even his ears blush. Watery eyes flash as he glances to Max. She almost coos at him when Steve’s shoulders hunch up and he shies away, trying to hide his face in Billy’s thigh even though Billy has him by his hair. Billy jerks Steve’s head once to bring the omega back up, forcing Steve to sit up straight. When he lets go in the next second, a whine immediately sings from Steve’s throat. He even dares to gently paw at Billy’s knees, but a quick smack to the back of one of those hands deters him.

Billy nods to Max when Steve hunkers down, flinching from the pain, and purrs, “Show Max what you want.”

Big, brown eyes glance between the alphas before Steve shoots Billy a pitiful look. Somehow, the flush spread across his face deepens—please don’t make me do this. But Billy towers above Steve, is the one who will give him what he needs, so there’s not much room for argument. Not if Steve wants Billy’s knot. So with a stern look burning into him from on high, Steve slumps, defeated, and shuffles away. Max perks up where she still leans on the doorjamb as she watches Steve. He pouts one last time, seeking commiseration from his alphas and not finding it, before he huffs and does as he’s told. Max’s belly flips and the peach fuzz on her stands up straight when Steve gives his back to her, bends over, and then slumps his chest on the bedroom floor. Presenting himself and his wet backside.

Leaning back on his arms, Billy brags, “I was teasing him before, asking what he wants, and he did this.” His grin spreads wider as he reaches out with a foot to nudge Steve’s prostrated form, enjoying how the omega arches his back more. “Just turned around and showed me his needy hole. Thought you’d wanna see, too.”

The hardwood under Steve amplifies his next whine. Billy cranes forward, hand striking Steve’s pert ass lightning quick. Steve jolts on the floor but only manages a moan and a wobble on his knees. Before Billy has to bark at him to get his ass back up, Steve arches all pretty for Max again. Even across the room her sharp eyes pick up how he drips down the crack of his ass and inner thighs.

Max rocks herself off the doorjamb and doesn’t speak until she walks around to find Steve’s face. His cheek remains flush to the floor even as watery eyes flick up and find her. Steve gives an eager wiggle, another noise, but otherwise maintains his begging form. Max sucks her teeth as she kneels down beside him and pets a hand through his hair. Gently for now. She knows how much Steve can take, knows he likes a little roughness. So a smirk blooms across her face when she takes her turn yanking Steve’s head up by his hair. In her peripheral vision, she watches Billy stuff a hand down his sweatpants to pull his dick out and start stroking. It’s all the invitation she needs to stay and help quell the charged heat under Steve’s skin.

“Aww, poor puppy,” she simpers, holding Steve by his hair while tapping her other hand on his cheek. A breath as their eyes meet. And then her hand rears back to slap the pout on Steve’s plush lips. “You need it bad huh?” Max cocks her head, pouting back at him. “Dumb, needy puppy wants his hole filled, huh?”

Steve whines louder in her hands, please, and Max slaps him twice more for his trouble. Hard enough to sting and make Steve’s chin tremble and his eyes fill up.

“Can’t even say what you want,” Max scoffs, throwing Steve’s head away only to catch him begging with big eyes through his fringe. She shoves his head again before standing. “Get off the floor before you make a mess, you dumb mutt.”

Billy sucks a breath through his teeth, head rolled back, and hisses, “Love it when you’re mean to him, babe.”

“Stop playing with yourself and pay attention,” she snaps just as hotly at him, only for Billy to hum and stroke himself faster. “Or I can just go get my strap if you wanna be a lazy asshole, that’s fine.”

Now Billy stops, scoffs at her, “Talk to him like that, not me.”

Max ignores that, slaps at Billy’s shoulders to hurry him along. She needs Billy and Steve to almost trade places to get what she wants out of this. With the bed clear after another grumble from Billy, another twitch of his upper lip as they vie for control, Max turns a sweet smile down on Steve. She crooks a finger at him before she climbs up on the bed.

“Come here, puppy, we’ll give you what you need.”

Steve almost smacks his face into the floor as he scrambles to obey. He’ll fight Billy sometimes, just to be a pain. Just to be obstinate. Not with Max. With Max, he’s ready to jump before she even opens her mouth. So Max flicks hair over her shoulder again as she settles on their bed, propped up on her arms with the rest of her spread out. Steve doesn’t need any commands to crawl up the bed and rub his cheek on her inner thigh. He’s not shy and mouths kisses up hairless skin, higher and higher until he drags the whole of his face between Max’s legs. Only the cotton of her panties separate them, not that Steve would come away messy. It’s enough to get her skin shivering and her fingers sinking into Steve’s hair to rip his head up. He pouts at her but suck his lip right back in with another slap across his mouth.

“Bad dog,” she growls down at him, relishes the shudder Steve gives her. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

Steve nuzzles her thigh in apology just as Billy steps up behind him. Steve’s feet probably hang off the bed, the edge of the mattress so near. They definitely do when Billy scoops up Steve’s hips and drags him closer. The needy omega will have to bend his legs and spread them wide under him to accommodate Billy behind him, dick already rubbing between his cheeks. Max cranes her head up to get a better look, almost smashing Steve’s face back to her mound. Her panties will have to go. She doesn’t fancy pulling them to the side for Steve’s mouth or making a mess of them.

Max pinches Steve’s cheek, says sternly, “Stay,” and then shifts her body to tug her panties off.

The t-shirt flies to the floor with them as an afterthought. Max’s hands linger between her legs to frame pink folds, thumbs stroking just beside her clit. Steve pants harder while flicking glances between it and Max, licks his lips before he whines. He knows exactly what she has in store for him, whines a little louder from how badly he wants her. But she’d told him to stay. So he will.

“Good boy,” Max coos all nice and sweet to Steve while grabbing him by the hair again. It’s a tug of war with his alphas at either end. Despite that jostling though, Billy carries on rubbing himself against Steve while Max pets his fluffy hair. Max breaks her intense focus on Steve to share a look with Billy down his lean, trembling body. “Don’t make him come too fast.”

Billy snorts, “Like you need to say that.” He releases one of Steve’s hips to smack his ass, and they smirk over Steve’s whimper. “I won’t let him come until he gets you off first.”

“Did my dumb puppy hear that?”

Max flicks one of Steve’s ears until his big eyes meet hers. He nods. She grabs him by the back of his neck and hauls his face between her legs, heat and the clean smell of her rising up. Steve’s hands flinch on the bed when Max traps him to her, but he makes no movement of protest. Lips and tongue already mouthing at her, Steve’s moan is muffled when Billy joins in. Max stays sitting on her tailbone just so she can drive her body hard into Steve’s face but also see Billy. It won’t be until she comes that she’ll get wet, but already the lewd, awful sounds from Steve’s body excite her. Billy flashes her a grin before returning his heady gaze to his fingers diving and twisting into Steve. Like he needs it, gaping for a knot since this morning.

Max hauls Steve’s face up to find him flushed, spit shining on his chin. She coos at him before pinching his nose, slapping him immediately after. He pouts at her once more like earlier only to receive more harsh smacks until he stops. A tear squeezes out of an eye, and Max’s gaze flicks up to see what Billy is doing. Something that needs both hands, Billy’s fingers prying Steve open. Just to see how much he can take, muscles in Billy’s arms not quite trembling from the strain. When Billy relaxes, Steve lets out a breath and almost melts into the bed. Max allows him a second to suck down some air before she wrenches him up by his hair again. Eager to see more tears spill out while they taunt him together.

Billy from behind, “He always gets so wet when he’s in heat.”

“Like a pussy?” Max asks with a smirk. She digs her nails into Steve’s scalp when he shivers.

“Yea,” Billy laughs, hand smacking Steve’s ass before he goes back to stroking himself. Both are plenty ready. They just like to keep Steve waiting until he’s nearly sobbing. Billy’s free hand scratches nails over Steve’s beaten ass and the small of his back when he sneers, “That’s what you need, isn’t it, mutt? You need a knot to breed your little pussy, don’t you?”

Steve’s face is on fire against Max’s thigh, but he goes right on lapping at her. Long strokes up and down like the dog he is. Messy when he changes to whimpering kitten licks at her clit. Billy leans forward, nudging the head of his dick to Steve’s wet hole. He could slip in on accident, really. Max clings tighter to Steve’s head and hair when the omega whimpers, tries to rock back on his knees to impale himself. Another smack to his ass stops him. Steve is just a trembling, panting mess between them. He remembers to keep his tongue squirming over warm folds, remembers to swirl and flick against Max’s clit. He knows this game well, and Max shivers a little against his plush lips. This time when Max rips Steve’s head up, her other hand snatches Steve’s chin to force him to look at her. His chin is wet, lips dark from pleasuring her.

“Use your words, puppy, tell him. Tell Billy you need him.”

When Steve’s bottom lip just gives a little tremble, Max releases his chin to hit him again.

“Dumb dog,” she laughs. “Too stupid to talk.”

“It’s so sad,” Billy agrees. He’s still doing nothing more than rubbing the head of his dick against Steve’s hole. Around and around just to make the omega squirm. “I always forget what a dumb slut he turns into when he’s in heat. Isn’t that right, Steve?”

Max laughs down at Steve, eating up the rise of color in his cheek and the haze in his eyes. He gasps and moans in her hands when Billy teases him, pressing forward.

“Silly, stupid dog,” she coos to him with a smile. “Billy’s gonna fuck you like the bitch you are.”

Down Steve’s body, Billy groans and gives his own shudder. Max meets his eyes when he works it out, teeth in his bottom lip as he stares down where he’s sunk into Steve.

“Fuck, he tightened up when you said that.”

Max hums through the ache that blossoms inside her. She takes Steve by his hair and the back of his neck once more as she shoves him down. Her thighs box his ears, maybe jarring him, but she doesn’t care. He whines against her when she starts to rock into him, holding Steve completely still. Steve gives a louder moan, tongue twitching against her entrance, when his body sucks Billy the rest of the way down. Steve only pants for a few breaths before Billy holds his waist and starts an even pace. His pelvis sometimes bucks into Steve’s ass, popping out loud whimpers. They tingle between Max’s legs. She doesn’t hold back, writhes as she snaps her hips into Steve’s mouth. Harsher than Billy, using Steve fast and dirty without any build up. Steve pants when he can, groans whenever Max pulls him away just to see the mess on his face.

“Filthy mutt,” she spits at him.

Steve just moans, lips parted and eyes fluttering. His body jolts ever so slightly back and forth as Billy fucks him from behind. Harder, a little faster. Max throbs again and sends Steve’s wanton mouth back down where it belongs. As his tongue and lips wind up the tension inside her, building her up, Max hisses more mean things down to Steve. How needy he is, how he’s a loud whore when he’s being used. Anything to keep that pretty blush flaring hotly under his beauty marks. Max snarls and spits at him as long as her mouth can form words. Eventually, Steve’s cherry lips tease her clit before sealing around it to suck. It’s big enough for him to get his lips around it, and Max howls when she bucks into his face. Billy has to hold Steve down, knuckles going bone-white at his waist, as Steve starts to rock himself between them. He makes for a pretty sight when Max’s stomach gives a lurch and then drops out from under her.

Chest caving in as she starts to come, Max moans, “Just like that, puppy, mmm fuck don’t stop!”

They’ll need a towel to soak up the wet spot when Max comes against Steve’s face, hips bucking as she drenches him. He startles in her hands at the first gush, his hands flinching up as if to grab Max’s thighs. They’re tight to his ears. Hopefully he won’t drown, she thinks with her whole body throbbing and a slick grin on her face. Vision slow and head buzzing, she throws a lazy glance to Billy thundering away behind Steve. He knows just by watching them, the way Max’s body folds up and her hips snap that she’s come. It’s his turn. And then finally Steve’s. She’ll let the boys take care of that and clean up. With a last sigh, Max pets Steve’s hair, good boy, and then flops on her back. She rests her eyes to the whimpers Billy fucks out of Steve and then the loud bellow he gives when he pops his knot. Music to her ears.

Chapter Text

It’s really Max’s fault why El climbs between her legs in the middle of the night, redhead dead asleep. Max had been the one just this morning to wake her up with kisses to her neck and hands wandering. Fingertips teasing just beyond peachy nipples or the elastic of El’s panties. Max was the one to hum in her ear when El startled awake and purr that she couldn’t wait any more, had to touch El right then. So even though El’s heart is in her throat as she blankets Max’s lower body, excitement keeps her caresses light. She wants to see how far she can get before Max shudders awake.

Max’s sleep shirt is already rucked up, breasts bare and soft. Just enough moonlight slips past the curtains to let El see, although she must recall the pink of the nipple she pets a finger past. In shades of grey she bows her head to Max’s skin and kisses gently everywhere within reach. El keeps a hand flat in Max’s bed to steady herself while the other plays. Max’s next breath stutters, and she shifts ever so slightly under El. El freezes in kind, lips grazing the flat space between small breasts. She waits. Holds her breath until Max sighs and relaxes back into sleep. Close. 

Hopefully enough body heat will roll off El to keep Max warm. Surely it will with her practically lying on top of the redhead, lips smiling a little as they explore the swell of a breast. El remembers, sigh on milky skin, the first time they hugged and it felt different. When they paused smiling in each other’s faces and shivered, electrified in their embrace. She knew what she wanted in that moment, craned into Max’s space, past neutrality, and kissed her. El bottles a whine behind her lips when they brush over a nipple. Their skin tingles together, and Max gives another hum under her. El pauses with her heart full, not wanting Max to wake up just yet.

Max writhes a bit under her, grinding into El. It won’t be long until clear eyes flutter open in the dark. But once Max is awake, she’ll want to continue this. El is sure, skin buzzing at her neck even now from Max’s earlier kisses. They haven’t gone all the way yet. El wants to, and maybe Max will want that in the middle of the night. The dark makes her bold, coaxes her tongue out to tease Max. Lying on top of her like this, El knows the exact moment Max trips from slumber into the waking world. Her chest arches into El’s mouth and hands tangle in her hair, holding her there. Max’s vague rocking of her hips slows and evens into purposeful thrusts. When she whimpers just before speaking, everything in El’s belly gives a tumble.

Oh well. She’ll have to try again sometime.

Chapter Text

Billie could do without the noise of Max’s video game or how she pays more attention to it than her. But Max’s weight is pleasant in her lap and the view isn’t so bad. Nothing to sneeze at as Billie’s mannish hands roam over her sister’s pert ass, prying her open to see thick, black silicone sunk into her pretty pussy. Max jars in her lap again, cursing with her headset on, and tosses a pinched look over her shoulder. Billie ignores that, shifts under Max’s weight to see if she can press the root of the dildo into her. They’ll need to give the leather of Billie’s harness a brief wipe when they’re done. Already Max leaves a sticky smear as she squirms.

“Stop moving, brat,” Billie says with a smirk, a pinch to a cheek. “If you come, I’m not fucking you for a week.”

Max’s head whips around, cheeks as bright red as her hair tied back, and hisses, “Billie, shut up! My friends can hear you!”

Billie just grins up at her, holds Max’s slim waist in her hands, and then grinds the smaller girl down on her. She knows the blunt, fat head of the dildo is a little uncomfortable inside Max. Even now, all grown up, Max is a little too small for such a girthy toy. It’s the whole reason she’s perched in Billie’s lap, spun around playing video games while she warms up to Billie’s cock. 

“Not my problem.” Billie’s heady gaze is right back on the action, although she grins when Max shivers and turns back around. Resigned to her fate. Because she’s the one who’d asked Billie for this. Billie sinks her fingers into plush cheeks and gives them a shake, grin spreading wider when Max gasps all pretty and twinkling. Where she’s speared open, her body gives a feeble twitch. Squeezing around the heavy girth inside her. “Damn, we shoulda been doing this a long time ago.”

Billie’s left hand flashes up, rings catching the light, and she licks her thumb. Her hand makes a swift return to Max’s ass only for Billie to rub her thumb where they’re connected. She imagines, if this dick were real, that Max would be a silky soft around her, twitching with every shift and trying not to move. Trying not to break the rules that she’s not allowed to come or fuck herself. That’s Billie’s job. Biting back a deep, rolling noise in her throat, Billie goes right on making a mess of Max’s body. She’s not shy about dragging sticky slick up to play with Max’s ass, either. Nothing soap can’t wash away. Max twitches against Billie’s thumb as she rubs circles around and around her asshole, pressing down just to see what the feisty girl will do.

Shoulders hunched and voice bleeding into her panting, Max hisses, “Knock it off, Billie!”

“Make me,” she fires right back, threatening to squeeze her thumb past tight muscles. “You’re lucky I don’t grab another dick and fill this hole, too.”

Max has to slap a hand over her mouth, messing up her game, to cover the high whine she gives. She twitches again against Billie’s thumb and actually relaxes. Like she wants that.

“Awww, baby sister,” Billie simpers as she starts to rub Max back and forth, coaxing her into a rhythm. “If you wanna get fucked in both holes, all you gotta do is ask! Make it real pretty for me and maybe I’ll do it.”

The black controller in Max’s hands bounces when she drops it, needing both hands over her mouth to stop her noises. If Billie holds her breath, she just barely picks out the squeaky voices of her friends yelling in her ears. Good. Let them hear. Max would rather fuck her sister than play their stupid game. Billie’s teeth scrape over her filthy grin when she manages to wedge the tip of her thumb just inside Max, relishing how the poor girl squirms around her.

“Billie,” Max whimpers through her fingers. Her eyes are wet when she glances over her shoulder. 

Gaze heady once more, Billie rears her clean hand back and smacks Max’s ass. Her own stomach gives a tumble when Max jolts on her knees and tightens around the tip of her thumb. If she presses much deeper, she’ll feel along the dildo already filling Max up. When Billie gets up to wash her hands before she fucks Max for real, she ought to rummage in their toy box for a butt plug. A small one so Max can enjoy it. All sorts of ideas spring into Billie’s head, the options vast and limitless, before she pops her thumb free. She smacks Max’s ass again for good measure, enjoys the way her pink body tightens up on reflex.

“Turn that shit off and get on your knees,” Billie snaps while smacking Max again, hurrying her along. “Unless you want your friends to hear how much you love your big sister’s cock.”


Chapter Text

These brats are going to be the death of him. Not in an inter-dimensional monster, mind-possession sort of way. No, Max and El will be the death of him because they know exactly what they’re doing to him. Halloween. After all the porch lights have gone dark and the little gremlins have been corralled back into their homes. Max and El sit on the living room floor just beyond Billy’s bedroom door. Why they can’t sort their candy in Max’s room, he has no idea. He’d get up and say something, growl them back into Max’s room. Only they keep giggling while cramming candy in their mouths, hyper despite it being a school night. They’re too old for trick-or-treating anyway. Max probably swiped the candy off some poor idiot. Oh well. At least Billy gets to sit here, scowl heavy on his face despite the tightness in his jeans. Because Max won’t stop sucking the sugar off a Fun Dip stick like a whore.

Fingers curled and digging into his palms, Billy forces out a long breath through his nose. She’s doing it on purpose. The tiny glances Max sneaks his way with her tongue roaming over the white stick give her away. She’s not even trying to be subtle. It’s normal for teenage girls to be close, physically and emotionally. Chick stuff. That doesn’t explain how Max shoots another glance to Billy—are you watching?—before she holds El’s jaw in her hand and pours blue powder in her mouth from the Fun Dip packet. El jolts in Max’s hand but steadies herself with a hand almost slapped to Max’s chest. They giggle when El swallows and makes a face, blue candy going green on her tongue. Max unwraps a fucking sucker for her next, shoves it in El’s hand, and tells her to lick it all over. If Billy holds his breath any longer, he’ll pop a gasket somewhere.

“Do you have to do this shit right here?”

Max twirls her tongue around the shortened end of the dip stick, seals her lips around it only to pop off it as she stares directly at Billy. No shame. Just the suggestion of lust when she licks the tip one more time. El watches them carefully, mouth ringed pink from sucking on hard candies and licking sugar off them over and over. Sat on his bed, Billy shifts his thighs ever so slightly farther apart. To relieve pressure.

“You can close your door,” Max points out, snapping off the end of the dip stick with her teeth. She sucks on it, pauses to add, “Nobody’s stopping you.”

She knows full goddamn well he wouldn’t shut this door if his life depended on it. Gritting his teeth, Billy already forms plans of revenge. Will he fuck Max first in front of her little friend? Or maybe give El a test drive? El’s surely a virgin, although he’s caught her intense, bottomless stare angled his way more than once. Especially if she’s here when he’s working out. Max hasn’t been a virgin for a long time, knows exactly what she’s doing with that hooded stare of hers as she starts to suck on the dip stick again. It’ll be his cock before Halloween succumbs to November 1st. Max can enjoy her little trick right now. Billy will have his treat later.

Chapter Text

“Umm… You look good on your knees like that.”

“That’s good. Now call him a slut.”

El’s hands startle in Billy’s curls, barely touching him. She’d sat here and watched him do the same to Max: kneel on the floor and let her control him, Max hissing filth to him like he does to them. And he just took it, licked and sucked until she came shuddering against his smug face. Although who is in control with those wicked eyes on them, devilish tongue teasing them, El isn’t so sure. Calling Billy names isn’t something that settles right in her stomach. Even as Billy muffles a snort against her inner thigh, nipping pale skin, El shoots uncertain glances to her left. Max watches, sometimes reaches down to draw Billy’s hair out of the way so she can see or shove her fingers against El’s clit with Billy’s tongue already at work.


Max knocks shoulders with her, says with a grin, “He calls us names all the time when he’s fucking us. So do it back.”

When El’s shoulders hunch up, Billy humming against her clit is the perfect distraction. She jolts on the bed, thighs almost clamping around his head. He is gentler with her, always has been. Billy and Max hiss and spit at each other like alley cats, although they will settle down together and be sweet sometimes. They get flustered when El catches such tender moments. But with her? They show her a softer, slower side. Even now, Billy is all gentle, even laps up and down her pussy. He keeps his eyes turned up like she’s something radiant to behold rather than skin and bones and nerves. He soothes those nerves with rough palms petting up and down the outsides of her thighs. It’d taken calm caresses like those to get her to stop squirming when he shuffled over and offered himself for her to do whatever she wants. Copying Max is easy, comes as naturally as breathing. She’d still rather Billy fuck her like he usually does: hot, heavy body on top of her, holding her down while he pistons into her and calls her baby doll and pretty. 

Billy mouths one last kiss to her, a little rough to draw a whimper out of her, and grumbles, “Knock it off, Max. If she’s not into it, she’s not into it.” Blue eyes flashing to El next, he winks up at her and drawls, “Keep doing what feels good, baby. You wanna call me names? Do it. You wanna pull on my hair? Go for it.”

Ah but she doesn’t want to be mean to him. To anyone, really. Max had seemed to enjoy it. But then again the siblings are always vying for power, always giving and taking until neither of them are truly in control. Max huffs beside her, rolling her eyes even though she’ll listen to Billy, and tucks her face to El’s neck. That’s better, more normal, and El closes her eyes to the sights and sensations around her. She maybe grips Billy’s head harder than she would, maybe twists some curls around her fingers to pull on his scalp. He hums against her once more and flicks the tip of his tongue fast over her clit. A shiver runs up her spine every time until she’s almost shaking apart. Max joins too despite her attitude, sucking a fresh mark while her fingers drum over a nipple. El squirms between them and bucks into Billy’s face when he wiggles his tongue down to lap stickiness welling out of her. 

“M-more,” she whimpers, finding the will to tell Billy what to do with her blood roaring in her ears, thundering wherever his tongue touches. Little fingers rip in his hair until a grunt vibrates against her, and El whines, “Y-you don’t get to fuck us if you don’t make me come!”

Another deep hum, Billy murmuring, “Fuck yea, that’s hot,” before he yanks El closer and rubs his face between her legs.

Her cheeks are on fire, but it’s worth it when Billy seals his wicked lips around her clit and sucks. El clutches his face to her body as he laps the tension out of her. She jolts between her lovers with every wave, every snap of her orgasm. It’s over too soon with nothing inside her, with Billy pulling away and brushing her hands out of his hair. The siblings guide her loose body back to the bed and descend upon her like wolves. It’s plenty of kisses and gentle petting all over her as the last shivers find release from El’s skin. She coos so pretty for them when a few fingers reach down and play in the mess Billy has made of her. El has to hold on to their arms as both wiggle fingers into her, ready to wind her up again. This is better, El thinks with a fresh moan. She clenches around the fingers in her. Max and Billy can play with power all they want. So long as El ends up teased and squashed and fucked between them, she’s happy.

Chapter Text

Nancy rises from the bedroom and seeks Steve out first. She always does, leaving Jonathan to groan amongst the covers and eventually drag himself out of bed. Which is fine, because them feeding at the same time can get… intense. Sat on the couch with the TV glowing in his face, Steve barely startles when chilly, thin arms wrap around him from behind. He blurts a tiny noise like a disturbed cat but otherwise relaxes into Nancy’s embrace. He tries to murmur something to her—how’d you sleep? Did your headache go away? I got more milk—but her sway over him is too strong at first rising. Already nimble fingers pluck at the collar of his sweater to pull it aside to reveal pale skin. Oh how it used to send his heart racing and the whole of him sweating, nervous for the prick of fangs at his shoulder and the subtle pressure of blood drawing out of him. Steve sucks a breath through his teeth when said fangs sink into him. Dainty hands flatten on his chest, one over his heart, to soothe that initial resistance. He doesn’t mean it, of course. Nancy knows that, doesn’t have to force Steve into this. He gives willingly. He’s the perfect partner in that regard.

Steve gives another curl of a whine in his throat when Jonathan stumbles out of the bedroom, walking almost sideways as he rubs hands over his face and hair. He won’t approach without permission even now, always subservient to the one who’d created him. Some wordless message echoes through the room to bid Jonathan forward. He yawns, scratches his stomach through his sleep shirt, and eventually slowly collapses to his knees in front of Steve. He has to nudge the coffee table back to make room for himself. Steve’s head swims, too out of it already to lift a leg and scoot the table back for him. Warm and pliant under Nancy’s hands, he gives no objection to Jonathan picking up a pale arm, nudging Steve’s long sleeve up, and kissing his inner wrist. If Steve could, he’d pet through Jonathan’s dishwater hair with the other hand when the second set of fangs pierces him. Steve jolts between them, whine a little louder, but all the hands on him petting him so carefully soothe him into relaxing once more. They won’t hurt him, would rather hurt themselves first.   

Head rolling to his other shoulder, Steve slurs something unintelligible. Maybe one of their names, maybe only a hum. The dull aches in his shoulder and wrist vanish although the odd pressure of them feeding remains. Sometimes it’s pleasurable. Especially if either of them is feeling frisky and wants to feed from his inner thigh. More likely Jonathan than Nancy. No, Steve’s shoulder or neck is her favorite spot. The sweater covering him and keeping him warm as his blood seeps out is a little stretched out at the neckline. Nothing a wash in hot water can’t fix. He’d peel his shirts off for Nancy if she ever gave him a warning. The element of surprise, his animal heart beating hard in the presence of danger, makes him taste better. Or so they say. Steve wouldn’t know, just melts into the couch and barely twitches his fingers along Jonathan’s jaw. Thin lips smile against his delicate wrist, and Jonathan reaches up to cover Nancy’s hand over Steve’s heart. It beats for them, and they sigh as one with his gift of sustenance bright on their tongues. They’ll make sure to linger when they’re done to kiss and pet and murmur sweet nothings to him. It’s the least they can do to keep such a faithful, loving partner in their lives.

Chapter Text

Narrowly missing the mailbox, Billy’s clunker of a car rolls to a stop and then dies before he even gets a chance to kill the engine himself. Normally he’d swear up a storm, smack his hands on the steering wheel, and complain about the piece of shit. The Camaro had only been marginally better, no thanks to his neglect. Gone forever now. Instead Billy slumps into the uncomfortable seat and rests a hand over his chest. Beneath the striped work shirt with his name on a patch, the spidery scars on his chest ache. He rubs ugly fingers over the dull throb, worst at the center of his chest, and just sits in silence for a few breaths. He doesn’t remember the drive back to the house on Cherry Lane. The windows are open. It’s a nice day. Music pours out of Max’s window. Numb like this, he can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. If he should coax the engine to turn back over and drive away for a little while.

The front door shuts smoothly without pressure thanks to the open windows. He’d shut his when he left this morning, shuffles into his room to find it open once more. Through the thin wall, some awful pop music comes out tinny and cheap from Max’s radio. Her off-key singing mixes in. A smirk wants to wiggle onto Billy’s face, but he doesn’t have it in him. The springs in his old, sagging mattress whine when he drops his weight onto it, bends over immediately to tug his work boots off. A numb shower is due after this to rid the bitter tang of engine grease and fumes from him. Much like the drive home, his mind chases its tail around the same images. And when he slaps the water off, skin pink all over from the heat, the autopilot clicks back off and Max’s music slips back into his ears. The volume remains abrasive even when Max nudges the bathroom door open to his naked body, not quite done toweling off. Through the mess of his towel rubbing over his hair, he catches glimpses of her: tank top with a sliver of skin showing above the waist of her shorts, squishy thighs bare and plump at the legholes.

Smirk heavy on her face as her eyes rake him up and down, Max drawls, “Didn’t hear you come in.” She leans on the doorjamb of the bathroom, thin frame blocking his eventual exit. She’s not shy about looking him all over, cheeks pink a little, when she adds, “If I knew you were home, I woulda climbed in with you.”

Billy drags his towel down from his hair and knows he could not handle that right now. It’s stupid. He shouldn’t even be upset. Max standing here, giving him bedroom eyes and sort of squirming on her feet, does nothing for him. That just deepens the pit of uncomfortable emotions swirling in his stomach all day. He’s not subtle about it, Max’s ardour slowly cooling into confusion when Billy just flashes her the briefest of smiles. No holding power, not even a real smile. Just something to beg her off and keep the conversation going. Max isn’t stupid and unfolds herself, wipes all the lust off her face when she looks at him in a new light.

“What’s up with you? Did something happen?”

Pausing right in front of Max, looking down to meet her confused gaze, Billy strains to hear if they’re alone. If Neil and Susan are downstairs. He hadn’t parked around back of course, isn’t sure if their cars are here.

“Neil and Sue?”

Max blinks, eyebrows pinching more.

“Neil’s at the VFW and mom is grocery shopping. Should be back soon, but Billy—”

He hums, nudges her out of the way, and wanders back to his room naked. Max trails behind, little feet silent except for the floorboards that give her away. 

“Billy, what happened?”

She lingers in his doorway as he pulls a clean t-shirt on, searches for a pair of shorts he would have worn in high school. It’s too warm for much else.

Sighing, Billy drops back to his bed and rubs his hands over his face. It’s stupid. Again, he shouldn’t be upset. It’s what he’d told himself while it was happening, that he was being a little wuss. When Billy drops his hands between his knees with another sigh, he picks his head up to find Max still at the open door. A jerk of Billy’s head, come here, invites her forward. It won’t kill him to tell her what happened. Even if he’s upset over nothing.

Like a static charge blankets his skin, Max keeps her hands to herself but sits close. Her leg bent up on the bed between them almost touches him. Billy glances at it, takes it upon himself to touch her first. His hand blankets the side of her knee, and his thumb strokes over smooth skin and bone. She has some fresh bruises on her legs from skating. A snort rips through him at the thought of her falling even now, even though she’s basically a pro. She’s not 13 anymore. 13-year-old Max wouldn’t cover his hand and sort of squeeze him. She probably would have teased him, giving back as good as she gets.

“We have a mice problem at the shop,” he begins, staring at their hands on Max’s pale knee. “So we have a bunch of traps everywhere. Whoever gets there first checks the traps, throws the dead mice away, and then resets them.”

“… Okay?”

Shrugging, Billy adds, “I found a mouse stuck in a trap. It didn’t die, but it was pretty crushed. So I had to kill it.”

It had struggled so hard despite the bar of the trap digging into its belly. It would have died anyway, Billy knew that, which is why he put the poor thing out of its misery. Cold, hard facts don’t lessen the sting of it. Don’t make it any easier to stomach. Sitting in his bright bedroom with Max warm next to him, he can’t help but sniffle and wiggle his nose at the phantom stink of blood and tissue. It’s not often anymore that he gets stuck in his head and thinks about the basement of the steel mill. Thanks to El, the building is no more, completely destroyed and buried under earth. She made him drive her to the spot despite knowing just how much he didn’t want to go. She did it for him, a final nail in the coffin. Another sigh tears out of Billy, and he rubs his hands over his face. His fingers are cold, would shake if not for his iron-like will. He’s not weak. It’s stupid and doesn’t mean anything.

Max shifts beside him and rests her head on the ball of his shoulder. Her cheek is warm over his tattoo. She nuzzles him, leans into him when he relaxes under her weight. 

“I’m hungry,” she says softly. “Wanna go to that 50s diner near Gary? I’ll buy.” She nuzzles him some more, teases the spaces between his fingers like she wants to hold his hand. “We could get a room since we’re off tomorrow…”

Just the two of them. No Hawkins, no mice struggling for their lives, no memories of something he’d rather forget. Max knows just how to tread lightly around the topic, knows exactly why he’s upset despite his brief explanation. He doesn’t like to see things suffer like that. Especially not mice thanks to that fucking monster. He also doesn’t want to dwell on it and would rather people not walk on eggshells around him. Making a big deal out of it. Huffing like this is funny, Billy turns his head to bury his nose in Max’s hair. She smells like his shampoo, strands silky soft under his lips. For the first time all day, Billy smiles.

“Make sure you leave a note for Sue that you’re staying with one of your girl friends.”

Chapter Text

Smoke streaming out between her lips, Billie pinches her cigarette in her fingers when she barks, “Stop pussyfooting around and get out here. Now.”

Behind Max’s bedroom door, a muffled whine.

“It looks stupid.”

“I haven’t even put make-up on you yet,” Billie whines back, stabbing her cigarette out. She adjusts the splay of her legs before relaxing into the couch. Her dumbbells and aerobics matts are tucked against the wall, their parents out for the night. They have plenty of time. Max is just stalling. “I’ll come in there, Maximillian, don’t think I won’t.”

“Okay!” he snaps, a sigh barely whispering through the door on its heels. “If you have the Polaroid out there…”

“Didn’t think about it until just now,” she lies. The Polaroid is in the kitchen where it belongs. But she’d thought about it, tucking away precious, horribly embarrassing photos of her step-brother. For her eyes only. Billie licks her teeth and sing-songs, “Max.”

The doorknob jiggles, Max’s last shred of resistance. When he opens the door, standing with his posture slumped like a crumbling pile of rocks, Billie snorts.

“Girls don’t slouch,” she points out. Sharp eyes roam all over Max from his hair pulled back in a scrunchie to his painted nails, the thin blouse he wears and then finally… “You do look adorable in that skirt, though.”

“I hate you,” he grumbles.

“I know,” Billie says with a smile, a slight cock of her head. Her stare roams all over him for a second more before she curls a finger at him. “Come here so I can finish.”

A scowl twists Max’s lips, but he does as he’s told. That doesn’t stop him from stomping across the room and dropping his weight hard next to Billie. Her hands snatch his slim shoulders in a second and wrestle him around where she wants him. Max gives her no struggle, just keeps up his heavy frown that wrinkles his eyebrows and screws up his mouth. Billie lingers long enough to grab his chin, wrench his head up, and take a kiss. Max’s little hands jump up as he squeals behind his tight lips. Before he can do something foolish like try to push her away, Billie lets him go with a last flick of her tongue. Snorting, she shoves his head away and then twists around to pick up her tools.

Make-up brushes and color palettes. Lipgloss tubes. Max is pasty with acne on his jaw that he can’t keep his grubby hands off of. She knows he picks at it, disgusting little boy. She grabs his chin once more, gives him a shake for good measure, and begins wiping moisturizer on his face. He twitches and grumbles through it all but remains still. She rewards his compliance with a gentler kiss this time. He accepts it with a roll of his eyes, cheeks going a little pink. He likes being kissed and she knows it. Billie hums something mindless under her breath just for the sake of noise. Max will squirm too much if they sit here in silence, and Billie might mess up wiping foundation on his cheeks. He needs eyeliner too, and she has to hiss multiple times for him to stop twitching. She threatens with a growl that she’ll poke him in the eye with the pencil if he keeps it up.

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it,” he mumbles with his lips tight, almost pouting. His eyes keep watering from Billie pulling his eyelids this way and that, scratching at them to apply black eyeliner. “Why do girls even do this, it’s stupid.”

“We don’t do it for other people, shitbird. We do it because we want to. Beauty is pain.”

She says as much while pinching a tiny chin hair between her nails and ripping it out. Max gives her the jolt she wants, and she chuckles at his pain. 

“I oughta wax your legs, see how you like that.” She leers at him and leans into Max’s space when she purrs, “Or those tiny balls of yours.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Billie lingers in Max’s face like she’ll kiss him, even fakes him out a few times. Despite the fear widening his eyes, he tries to meet her anyway, scowls when she denies him.

“Be a good girl and maybe I’ll forget.”

Max’s face twists further, cheeks really heating up now, when he huffs, “Don’t call me that.”

“What?” Billie slides a lipgloss applicator in and out of the tube to make sure it’s covered. She holds Max’s chin again when she asks, “Call you a girl?”

“Yea, it’s weird.”

“If the boot fits,” she snorts. “You look like a pretty little girl right now, so that’s what I’m calling you.”


“You wanted this,” she reminds him with an eyebrow flicking up. “If I remember correctly, you were the one sneaking into my room to try on my clothes. So shut up, Maxine , and let me finish.”

“I was just curious!”

“Curious enough to put my panties on? Yea sure.”

Max’s ears flush pink with the rest of him, but he zips his lips. They’re tense under the little pad shiny with lipgloss that Billie drags over them. For a boy, he’s got a cute mouth, she won’t deny that. She’ll have to wipe his mouth off later when she holds Max’s head down and gives him another lesson on how to eat pussy. He’s not good at it yet, complains about the hair and smell. Like he’d expected her to smell like flowers and fresh rain. That was his first lesson learned hard and fast while she ground herself against his face, coming with a deep groan and a little gush that had Max sputtering and spitting. She doesn’t have to be mean if he would just stop fighting her. Always fighting even now as she screws the lipgloss shut and admires her handiwork.

“You’re lucky you have me, little sister,” she teases while turning Max’s head to make sure his foundation and eyeliner are even. “I had to teach myself all this. You should make it up to me.”

Max squirms beside her, reads the atmosphere and Billie’s hooded stare plain as day. They’re alone, after all. It’s such a rare opportunity to not fool around in the Camaro or the middle of the night when Billie has to clamp a hand over Max’s mouth while she plays with him. Max flicks little glances up at her and away, nervous like prey. Exactly how she likes him.

“What… what do you want?”

Acting like he doesn’t know. Like he doesn’t want this. He’s so cute when he’s embarrassed. Billie holds the slick smirk on her face as her hands grapple with Max’s boyish hips. He’s got a bit of a waist to him, a little bit of ass. He may grow up to be a real beauty. Either way, he belongs to her, and Billie will do whatever she wants with him. Max only struggles a little when she drags him across her lap and forces his legs wide around one of her thighs. The springs in the couch protest their jostling, especially when Max flinches in her hands. Always twitchy, always ready to dodge out of range of her. She always catches him, though. Just like now as she leans into the couch and gets comfortable. The thigh pinned between Max’s gives a little jerk, rubbing against him. Billie’s big hands on his waist catch the flinch she knows is coming, and Max doesn’t disappoint.

Smirk still heavy on her wicked lips, Billie murmurs lowly, “Are you wearing the panties I bought you, Maxine?”

When Max just chews on his bottom lip and shivers, Billie helps herself. Max’s hands flinch up but just as quickly retreat as he tangles his fingers together on his chest. He knows his place, knows better than to refuse her. Billie eats up the tiny whine that curls in Max’s throat when she lifts the front of his skirt and finds white cotton. He’s small enough to fit without much spilling out. Small enough to fit comfortably in her hand when Billie cups Max between his legs and squeezes. 

“Awww, you’re hard,” she’s laughs at him while squeezing again and again. “You like wearing girl clothes, huh? You like it when I call you Maxine?”

“S-shut up!” Max scowls through another shudder and turns his head away. The foundation on his cheeks prevents his blush from shining through. It’s almost a shame, but his ears and throat flush a pretty pink. So it’s not a total loss. “You’re touching me, of course I’m hard!”

Billie sucks her teeth, hums, “I don’t know...” Her hand tightens around his cock, and she rubs her heel almost cruelly where she knows his head is. “Kinda seems like you’re a lot more eager than normal. Can’t have my little girl turning into a whore.”

Max’s hips give a feeble twitch, helping to rub himself into Billie’s hand.

“Billie,” he whines.

Billie’s other hand shoots up from Max’s hips to grab him by his ponytail. She drags him forward until they’re chest-to-chest and then wrenches his head back. Max jolts once more on her thigh, hands twitching between them. But he keeps still where he’s perched on his knees. Obedient, just the way Billie likes him.

From the bottom of her bassy voice, Billie warns, “If I find out you’re fooling around with anybody else…”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he pleads. A wince tears across his pretty face when Billie yanks on his hair. “I’m not, I promise.”

Billie softens her severe expression and says, “Nobody gets you excited like your big sister.” Her hand between his legs gives another squeeze, her heel another swirl over his head. There’s a wet spot, and Billie picks up a rhythm pressing on it over and over again until Max’s body rocks with her. Billie coaxes Max closer, teases in his blushing ear, “Nobody fucks your little pussy like your big sister, isn’t that right?”

Max’s hips roll hard into Billie’s hand as he whimpers, “Shut up.”

Chuckle rolling in her throat, Billie slips her hand from Max’s hair and his hardon, takes him by his hips instead. Like this, she continues the rhythm they’d started with her hand fondling him. 

“I know you like it, Maxine, don’t lie. You have a wet spot in your panties, what a messy girl you are.”

Max shudders hard in her laps with his little fingers tangled in the front of Billie’s shirt. He lifts his head almost shyly from Billie’s jaw and whines as he grinds himself into her thigh. Another whimper curls in his throat when he seeks a kiss. He probably thinks she’ll deny him or make him beg for it. She’ll give him a modicum of mercy, meets trembling lips with her own and immediately shoves her tongue into Max’s mouth. They smear Billie’s red lipstick against his mouth as Billie devours him, forces his body to rock harder, faster. When they part, Max’s tongue not even in his mouth, Billie bites back a groan when she sees his mouth smeared with red. He blinks at her in a daze, shoulders hunched as he chases the pleasure she gives him. His hands find her shoulders to hold on, nearly hopping on her thigh for relief.

“Billie please,” Max whines, snapping his hips like the needy thing he is. “I wanna come.”

Billie forces Max’s hips to slow despite the petulant hop he gives.

“Such a brat,” she laughs, pecking him on the lips once more. “You’re gonna make a mess in your panties, Maxine.”

Max pants, “Don’t care,” as he tries to fight her grip on him. When Billie slows him down even more, almost anchoring him to her thigh, he wiggles again and begs with wet eyes, “Please! I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You say that like you have a choice.” Billie loosens her grip and lets Max build up slowly. He’s painfully hard on her thigh where he rubs himself like an animal. Nasty little boy. Billie rolls her thigh against him, getting into it, and growls, “If you come now, you don’t get to later. I’m not done with you yet.”

Max knows the rules. He knows exactly what she has in store for him: holding him down by the scruff of his neck, tongue and lips busy until he makes her come. It’ll take a while, and she’ll be sure to make a mess of his face. Once he’s wiped the make-up off, of course. She ought to make him sit on a dildo stuck to the floor, fucking himself while he gets her off. He at least needs a buttplug for his greedy, little hole. Billie still recalls so fresh the first time she’d wiggled a finger in him and made him see stars, the first person to touch him inside. The first to show him what his body can do, training him to come just from that. He gets better the older he gets, lasts longer and doesn’t bust at the sight of her naked. It’s fun to watch him get hard without anybody touching him, though. Billie’s voice does something to him, and she knows it.

Max shakes where he tucks his face to Billie’s neck, rocking his hips fast again. Billie can’t help her grin, her mean coo of, “Bad girl, humping my leg like a dog. Horny little bitch.” Max whines and rocks harder. His cock is almost a brand on her thigh. He’s close, pants with his voice leaking out. It goes high and fluttery when he feels good, when he’s about to come. “You gonna come riding my thigh, Maxine?”

Red hair brushes Billie’s cheek when Max nods, moaning so softly in her ear. Like they have to be quiet. It’s cute when he’s shy. Max’s arms around her neck tighten as his hips falter, seeking the relief Billie dangles just out of reach. She’ll definitely have to put something in him later while she takes her turn. Maybe she can prop the mirror in her room against the wall so she can watch him squirm with his ass full. She shivers, feels herself throb at the image, and tangles a hand in his hair while popping her thigh into him. He yelps at the added pressure but doesn’t try to squirm away. Max meets her rhythm, and a constant stream of moans tumbles over his messy lips. Billie thinks she hears ‘please’ and ‘so close.’ 

They writhe together as Billie purrs in Max’s ear, “That’s it, baby girl, make a mess on your big sister’s thigh. I want you to soak my jeans with your little cunt.”

Max whimpers, “Fuck,” as his hips snap. Closer.

“You can do it,” she simpers. She pets Max’s hair instead of pulling on it, hugs her brother around his trembling torso to squeeze him to her. He can only swirl his hips into her thigh, now. Little jerks of his pelvis, smearing his poor cock on the inside of his panties. Billie shushes his next noise, nearly a sob, and purrs, “Come for me, Maxine.”

Max’s hips give a jerky snap and his voice breaks a little when he cries, “Billie I-I’m coming, oh god!”

He whimpers all through it, voice shredded as he pants. Each snap of Max’s hips is slower than the last after the initial burst of passion. Billie hums in his ear as he winds down, is nice enough to rub a hand up and down his back. When Max’s hips still, his arms remain tight around Billie’s neck. He sags against her, a puddle of satisfied boy in her lap. Billie’s petting hand slips down to fondle his ass, and she grins at the whine he gives. No more, leave me alone. If she takes him by the hips again and grinds his used prick into her thigh, Billie knows Max will get hard again. She can make him come a few more times, until he’s dry. The idea is too delicious to ignore, and she squeezes Max’s hips before rocking him again. When he flinches, another whimper tearing out of him, Billie kisses his cheek.

“Remember what I said, Maxine. I’m not done with you yet.”

Chapter Text

Pouting, El smacks her head into her pillow once more. It fluffs up around her but does little to quell the upset storm raging in her eyes. She won’t act up. She won’t let her anger get the better of her and break anything. Joyce had said no to driving her to Hawkins to stay the weekend with Max. Joyce doesn’t like Billy’s dad, doesn’t trust him. And Jonathan isn’t home to drive her either, not that he would go against the matriarch’s decision. Gavel pounded on the issue, she lies there hungry for her friend, the blossoming affection between them. She’d wanted to stay the weekend with Max to explore this new thing between them. To maybe replicate things she’s seen on TV and stories Max has told her about Billy. But no, instead she’s alone. Not truly of course. Headphones a little tight as they sit on her head, El lies on her back and tunes her radio to static. Closing her eyes, she finds the house on Cherry Lane in inky, wet darkness.

Through the front door, she pauses at the green mantel outside Billy’s room. The door is shut. But the light is on, leaks across El’s bare feet in the darkness of the void. Perhaps he speaks in a hushed tone in the real world. Here, his voice curls around her ears so loud and makes her shiver.

“Be quiet or you can go back to your room.”

El tilts her head as the words echo. It isn’t long before a sassy reply follows.

“Says the guy panting in my ear like a dog.”

Max. Her voice is bassy, breathy. She yelps after that, and El throws herself through the bedroom door to see what’s happening. The lamp by Billy’s mirror is on, casting them in soft shadows where they lie on his bed. El’s heart and throat give a lurch as she watches his big hand pet Max’s naked chest and stomach up and down. He’s equally bare behind her, face flushed and sweat at his hairline. The window just above the bed, behind the nightstand, is cracked to let the night in. Billy’s next inhale is loud and long through his nose. The exhale rushes over Max’s throat as he bows his head to mouth kisses to her shoulder. It’s a tight squeeze, because his hips rock back and forth behind her to thrust his cock between her thighs. El’s eyes are huge as she stands there and watches the angry, red tip of it bump against Max’s privates. The soft, pink bits between their legs. El gives a shudder and wonders what that feels like.

Billy hums in Max’s hair next, grins around his words when he says, “You’re the one who crawled into bed with me like a bitch in heat.”

Max scratches the back of his hand, thick fingers currently fondling her breast. He’s mean too, though, and twists her nipple until Max hisses.

“You’re such an asshole,” she snaps, craning her head around to try and glare at him. “This isn’t even doing anything for me.”

Billy grunts, grabs her waist, and holds her still. His hips speed up. The bedframe groans under them, but it’s the only sound that gives away what they’re doing. Their panting rustles just under that slight noise. El is sure she’s the only person who hears them, knows she’s the only one to witness them pawing at each other. At her sides, El’s hands ball into fists. Her anger from being denied earlier rushes back into her as she watches them. She could be here with them. Or at least making Max feel better than Billy is right now. She can do it better, do whatever Max wants if Max would show her. El can’t decide if she wants to smack Billy’s hand off Max’s pale belly or if she wants to wedge herself between them. He’s bigger than her, could crush her if he rolled on top of her. El shivers again when Max’s hips start to shift with Billy’s movements. She grinds herself on him every time he thrusts all the way between her legs. They’re still panting quietly when the slick, filthy noises start.

“Can’t believe how wet you are,” Billy growls in her ear. His fingers dent her belly as he holds on, unaware of Max’s fingers plucking at her own nipples. “Just from this. Fuck I wish I had a condom.”

Max shivers and murmurs back, “Sucks to suck. Maybe don’t run out next time.”

El is feverishly hot despite the natural chill of the void. To think if Billy had a condom she’d be watching him fuck Max right now. Does Max like that? She’s making muffled happy screams right now as she clamps a hand over her mouth and whimpers into her palm. Her body jolts now and she flushes all over like El does standing in the shadows. El groans to herself as she watches Max shake apart, watches the object of her affection come with one last whimper and then a sigh. Her thighs tighten around Billy’s cock, and he has to bite his bottom lip just behind Max when his hips jerk, too. Something in El throbs, something she only feels with Max, when she watches come shoot out of Billy’s cock in two, violent spurts. The rest dribbles out of him and makes a mess on Max’s thigh. She’s quick to roll away from him lest he spread that mess around and cause problems.

“Jeez you’re so gross,” Max sighs when she sits up. Her hand trembles when she goes to scoop hair behind her ear. Despite her complaint, a soft smile tugs at her lips as she looks down at Billy rolled on his back, blissed out with his cock softening on his thigh. “Are you gonna pass out now?”


Max glances to the sheet stained with come and nudges it off the bed. Billy’s mattress isn’t exactly wide enough for them to lie down together. El and Max fit comfortably in Max’s bed, but they’re small. Max has to poke and prod Billy to get him to roll onto his side and make room for her. He does so with a scowl on his face, but it has no staying power. His thick arm snatches Max up the moment she lies down, and he tucks her under his chin. They don’t care about the cool breeze petting over them or the lamp on by the closet. Max nuzzles her cheek over Billy’s scars and says nothing more, follows him into dreams. 

El loosens her hold on the vision, blinks back to her ceiling, her bed. The static is still loud in her ears thanks to her headphones. When she shifts to sit up, rubbing her thighs together, it feels like she’s wet herself. So she rolls on her belly, shoves a hand down her panties, and pretends it’s Max’s fingers inside her instead. Or Billy’s.

Chapter Text

Max’s ass is already bright red when Billie smacks him again, tearing a moan out of him. Her other hand pries him open so she can watch him twitch around the dildo sunk into him. All the way up to the beginning swell of the knot he keeps whimpering for.

“Billie,” he whines again, wiggling on his knees and chest. When no strike from her hand comes, he sighs and whispers, “Need you.”

Max had tried to stay up on his hands at first. He stumbled to his elbows when Billie grabbed him by his waist and hauled him hard and fast onto her strap-on. Max holds on to the bed for dear life as Billie rolls her hips in such a way that puts pressure on his sweet spot. The bedsheet under him is messy, spattered from him coming already and then dripping as he sways to her thrusts. They’ll need to wipe Billie off and her leather harness: the slick welling out of Max makes a mess of both of them.

Her hand is gentle when it finally comes down. It pets Max up and down the length of his curved back, nails scratching through his sweaty hair. Max tries to tip his head into the caress, but the moment he sits up some, Billie shoves him back down. Her hand holds the scruff of his neck for a second, testing his obedience. When he does nothing as she rocks into him nice and slow, she goes back to petting him.

It’s maddening, her chasing the heat and desire under his skin. She’d wrung some of it out of him earlier: having him kneel in front of her and eat her out while he squirmed with a plug in his ass. Getting him ready. And then holding his legs to his chest while he fingered himself, those vicious eyes watching him and seeing every jolt of his body as he came on his own fingers. It took all that for Billie to roll his shivering body over, yank him onto his hands and knees, and then finally push into him like he’s wanted her to all day. He came immediately when he was full and blushed up a storm under Billie’s scathing comments. About how he’s a whore and just needed some dick, that he’d let anybody fuck him if she weren’t here, he’d get knocked up if she weren’t here. None of that’s true, and he cried as much. She just grabbed him and pounded away at him hard enough to make the headboard crack against the wall. Just what he needed.

“You’re such a messy little boy when you’re in heat, baby,” she laughs at Max from on high.

Billie pops her hips forward and knocks a groan from Max’s raw throat. His voice leaks into every breath he takes, but he still cries out for her. He knows she’ll stop, maybe even deny him, if he holds back. This slow, rolling pace of hers barely nudges the heavy dildo in and out of him. When Max whines and tries to rock back to fuck himself, Billie sinks all the way to the knot and holds him there. Like a threat.

“You want this knot?”

Max nods with his head turned to the side so he can breathe. If he stares in the corner of his vision like a panicked animal, he can see Billie above him. She grins down at him with a curl stuck to her forehead. Eyes on each other, she pushes forward to rub the bulge of the knot against his hole. He’s loose and needy enough to start opening for it, but Billie relaxes her advance. Denying him. Max would normally glare at her, spit at her to hurry up. Right now all he can manage is a sob while throwing an arm behind him, pawing at whatever part of her he can reach. His short fingers scramble over Billie’s thigh, and Max foolishly tries to pull her closer. Billie smacks the back of his hand with an eyebrow cocked like he’s stupid for trying. Max huddles on his chest pressed flat to the bed and pinches his eyes shut, grinds his teeth over what he’s about to say. He knows the rules.

“Please alpha,” he begs, arching his back more to present himself despite already being stuffed. Max relaxes everything in him, completely boneless under Billie, and adds, “I need your knot right now, alpha.”

“You need to be bred that badly, huh?” Billie chuckles to herself like that’s funny. Like Max’s face isn’t bright red like his ass from blushing so hard. One of her hands comes down hard on that sting, adding to it, and Max hisses as he jumps on her dick. “Not gonna be able to sit later.”

Sweat in his eyes, Max rubs his face on the sheet under him in pure frustration. At least Billie goes back to rocking slowly in and out of him, pushing the knot harder and harder to his entrance each time. Max’s panting picks up again, pretty moans fighting their way through his teeth. Max wants so badly to lean his weight against Billie and just pop the damn knot into him. They both know he’ll calm down after that. He’s older now; it only takes one knot to quell the awful ache inside him. She doesn’t even like omegas, tolerates him because of the twisted red thread of fate wound around them. To think she used to reject him entirely at first, but he would come crawling to her anyway, begging for anything she would give him. Against his pride, Max would beg for her to touch him. Now Billie sees red at an alpha being casually affectionate around him. She may call him a knot slut and a whore, but she’s not exactly letting anyone else fuck him. 

Drooling a little as Billie starts to rock him on his knees again, Max begs, “Billie please, please fuck me, I-I wanna come on your knot, I need it!” His eyes burn, but he won’t cry. Not yet, not until he’s full and shaking apart under her. “Please knot me, alpha, I’m yours!”

Max thinks he hears Billie purr, “That’s what I like to hear,” but he can’t be sure. His blood roars in his ears when Billie finally presses forward, harder than his body can resist, and pops into him. Max seizes tightly around the base of the dildo, squeezing the knot and rubbing it into his sweet spot. So much pressure all at once, and Billie doesn’t even stop moving, has him choking on his next breath. When Max finds enough air to breathe, he screams as everything inside him throbs.

He comes again, barely a dribble leaking out of him to add to the mess he’s already made. His orgasm echoes in waves ebbing and flowing from the heavy weight inside him pressing hard on all the right spots. It almost hurts when Billie grinds the root of the dildo into him, but Max wouldn’t ask her to stop even if he could speak. His mouth is too busy hung open and drooling as his screams wind down to broken moans and then just panting as the afterglow begins. He can think straight again when Billie’s hands pet up and down his back again, actually mindful of the sting in his ass from her beating him. A whole-body shudder shakes him, has him scowling through tears building up behind his eyelids. Still Billie is gentle as she shifts a hand to his hair and cards silky strands away from his neck and face.

“You okay?”

She doesn’t sound as bored as she could. The fact that she checks on him at all sends Max’s stomach flipping in him. He sniffles and tries to hide his face, but Bille just tugs on his hair to stop him. He glares up at her even with tears wetting his cheeks and dripping off his little nose. The glare has no holding power, though, because Billie just cranes forward to wipe her thumb under the one eye she can see. The sheet under them soaks up the tears from the other eye. Max will be on laundry duty when he can stand again. Hopefully all the stains will come out. It’s not the first piece of bedding they’ve ruined.

“I’m fine,” he croaks. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“There he is,” Billie laughs, claps Max’s cheek before pulling away. “You always cry when you get knotted. So sue me for checking in, you little brat.”

He’ll cry a little again when she pops out of him. Empty and alone, the last dregs of Max’s heat will make a sniveling baby out of him yet. In spite of that? Billie will linger on the bed with him—not in his wet spot, though, that’s all for him—and brush his tears away or let him cling to her until it’s all over. He needs space after that. A hot bath will do. Maybe Billie will be nice and start the water for him. It’s usually what she does in the brief moment just after she pulls out before the loneliness descends upon him. It’s the most shameful part of his heats, the part they both would rather turn their heads and ignore. They handle it as best they can like cats with shoes on their feet: stumbling and desperate to escape the discomfort. 

Billie is up and back before Max knows it, hauls him up to the pillows so she can hold him. He hides his face in a pillow as she pets him, so ashamed that a little affection undoes him. Billie sighs almost in his ear and kisses his head, rests some weight on him so he knows she’s right here.

“You’re fine,” she grumbles. Max can just hear her roll her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, you know that.”

“Jerk,” he whimpers.

Billie flicks his ear and huffs, “Brat.”

When Max eventually dares to pick up his head, waterworks over for now, Billie holds his blushing cheek to kiss him. Not the possessive, devouring sort of kisses she usually gives him where he knows he belongs to her. They’re just gentle pecks, the soft plush and pull of their lips without going any deeper. Max sighs when they separate, committed to not crying anymore, and then pushes himself away. He flicks Billie off when she barks out a laugh as he staggers, just like they knew he would. Sure enough, though, when Max hobbles into the bathroom, the tub is full of steaming water. He’ll lie here until it goes cold, might turn the taps on to refresh the water. Billie will leave him alone until he seeks her out. The distance is only temporary. The red thread of fate wound tightly around them won’t let them stray for too long.

Chapter Text

Calm muffles every shift of fabric on the bed as Billy shuffles to get comfortable, teasing sleep. It’s Sunday, his last day of reprieve before going back to work. Max is somewhere, deep in the closet by the front door of their one-bedroom apartment. Cleaning or looking for something, she is so set to her task she’d waved away his offer of a nap. A nap together which would surely turn into something else, so Billy is almost grateful she declined. This way he can splay out as much as he wants, hog both pillows if the urge strikes. It doesn’t in the petty sort of way. He just snatches Max’s pillow and loops an arm around it. Good enough.

He’s not sure how long that calm lasts. A nap lasting longer than an hour is treading dangerous ground, and Billy knows that. He won’t sleep well tonight if he naps past the one-hour mark. Max will surely get bored or come in asking about dinner. Or he’ll blink awake, some part of his brain trying to stick to that one-hour rule. Weight denting the mattress beside him startles Billy out of a true sleep, maybe even the beginnings of some dream. He jolts with a grimace on his face, an irritated noise ready behind his lips. Max’s hand settles in his hair, playing with a curl, and Billy settles back down with a huff. Max’s slight weight shifts around beyond his eyelids. An intent to stay? Surely when Max wiggles her pillow out from under Billy’s arm only to replace it with herself. A fine replacement, and Billy scoops her up, rolls them, and leaves her lying mostly on top of him. The day is just mild enough for this.

Kisses trace the shadow on his jaw up to his ear before Max murmurs, “Guess what.”

“Chicken butt,” comes out of him with all the letters smashed together.

Max hums and kisses his cheek next. With each one, she draws closer to his lips. He waits until the next one that leaves a wet spot at the corner of his mouth before darting up to kiss her first. She smiles and laughs against his mouth but goes on trading chaste kisses with him. Some part of Billy gives an interested twitch, but he’s too tired to pursue it. The day is too nice, just the right amount of partly cloudy to make the bedroom perfect for sleeping and not much else. Billy still slings an arm around Max, low on her back. Possessive, you’re mine, you’re not going anywhere now, hope you’re ready to stay here. No fight from her disturbs their slow back and forth, and eventually Max pulls back with a sigh. She wiggles back down Billy’s firm body to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“I just unpacked the last box from when we moved.” She gives a little wiggle of a shrug. “So I guess that means we’re officially moved in.”

Billy snorts, mumbles, “Our lease is almost up. We’ve been ‘officially’ moved in for a long time, dork.”

“But we actually like it here, you know? We have a reason to totally unpack. You can’t tell me you unpacked everything when we moved to Hawkins.”

“Fuck no,” Billy grunts. “Why would I waste my time? I just woulda had to repack it all.”

“Exactly.” Max sits up to smack a kiss to him but retreats to Billy’s shoulder just as quickly. “We lived there for years but didn’t empty all the boxes. We like it here enough to unpack everything. To stay.”

It means something, he knows that. It’s their first apartment striking out on their own. It’s not great with the neighbors with a dog upstairs and the highway constantly roaring a few blocks over. The sink in the kitchen always drips. It could be Cherry Lane, though. So Billy lets the sentimentality wash over him. He rolls with it, rolls them until Max is the one squashed under him. Max giggles, paws at him and maybe says he’s crushing her. He pays that no mind while holding her jaw and kissing her for real this time. He’s happy they’ve made it this far. That they’re never going to have to crawl back to Neil and Susan, will never have to hide this thing between them again. He’d just rather kiss Max until she’s breathless than get mushy about it. So he does, hands teasing the hem of her shirt like he’ll get frisky. Max makes that decision for him when her thighs clamp around his sides and she hooks her ankles behind him. If they’re ‘officially’ moved in, then they ought to christen the bedroom again. When Max gives him no objections, snaps her body into his to hurry him along, Billy helps himself. Happy to be free from their past and home.

Chapter Text

El’s boots pound over dirt as she races through shadowy trees. Her every step excites a glow out of the soil, trailing her in an eerie, blue glow as she searches the darkness in vain.

Her communicator whines in her ear before Dustin’s voice breaks through the static.

“Did you find her?!”

El winces despite her legs flying over a felled tree. Or whatever counts for trees here. She almost doesn’t see it, just barely makes out the hunk of inky black against the slightly lighter horizon. No matter where she looks, running out of time, she cannot find Max.

“No,” she pants into the thin mouthpiece sticking down from her ear. “I’ve found the spot where we were separated, but she’s not here.”

Mike’s voice chimes in next, pleading, “Please be careful. We need to go back soon. If the Commander finds out Max wandered off— ”

The comms explode in bitter activity as Lucas and Dustin rally against Mike’s accusation. It’s not unusual for Max to go missing. She’s their scout after all. El blames herself, had distracted Max by tagging along, wanting to see what her duties truly entail. Max is always the first boots on a new planet, hunting to see if it’s safe for their little research vessel to make a landing. This place seems harmless enough. Max had disappeared out of thin air, walking beside El and talking one second and spirited away the next. Of course El lingered here an hour before in the fading daylight, thinking maybe Max had turned off the path and fallen or just needed a break. El knows she asks a lot of questions, is bothering the newest and most experienced member of their crew. She just hopes Max is okay. She could never forgive herself if Max got hurt because of her.

Stumbling on her feet in circles, around and around El pierces the dark with a flashlight to continue the search. The whole of the clearing sparkles blue at her feet as she kicks up the bioluminescent dust. When the glow from her last steps fades, her flashlight flickers. The battery may run out. El hadn’t checked to see if she grabbed a fresh one, too frantic to get back out here and begin the search. She refuses to return to the ship unless she has Max at her side. She won’t lose another one. Not like Will, still caught up in sick bay on the mothership. Not her fault, but she blames herself for the delay of his rescue. The flashlight is mutinous, flickers again and then dies. No matter how El beats her palm against the housing, it just rattles in her hand. Darkness surrounding her now, the faintest glow from a distance catches her eye. It’s blue like the dust at her feet, only brighter the closer she wanders. Foliage blocks her path when a voice whispers through the air.

“Okay… okay I’m ready. Be gentle this time, I’m sore.”

Max. With her uniform and blaster in a puddle just at the edge of the clearing, naked as day in the clutches of some beast. The blue glow emanates from the rubbery, jelly-like tendrils that make up the creature. El blinks as a shiver races up her body and sticks in the nape of her neck. Her first instinct is to reach for her own blaster and kill this thing, rescue Max. Max gives no struggle, no cry for help when a blue, translucent tentacles wraps around her waist. From this distance, El picks up the tired sigh Max gives, how she lies in repose amongst the creature’s many limbs. El must tear her eyes away from the lewd sight to search for the creature’s central mass. An attack there will distract it long enough for El to pull Max free, may even buy them some time while they run back to the ship. She takes a deep breath, steels herself, but stops when a fluttery moan rips through the clearing.

Max’s whole body shudders in the monster’s grip. Her shoulders crowd her ears, teeth in her lip, before she moans, “Oh fuck.”

All thoughts of rescue steam from El’s brain. Mostly because her face heats up to the boiling point as she watches the creature’s tentacles reach for Max’s limbs. They take her so gently by wrists and ankles, hoisting her up, splaying her limbs wide to expose her. Her skin is wet from every caress of the creature, glows from whatever mucous must cover it. Its jelly-like tendrils trace glowing paths up and down her body, aren’t shy when they draw over sensitive areas. El struggles to swallow as her eyes betray her and roam all over creamy skin and freckles, flat belly, all the way to the tuft of hair between Max’s legs. This is where Max squirms as the creature slides a tentacle into her. It’s bigger than any man El has seen, looks like it should hurt, but Max just tips her head back and moans louder as it thrusts into her. Gently, like she’d asked, just a slight nudge in and out. Messy enough to make filthy noises. El’s head swims, too much, and she stumbles back a step. 

A twig snaps under her boot.

Head whipping down to stare at the blue glow at her feet, El’s world spins as she glances up in time to watch a flurry of tendrils rush towards her. Max catches sight of her just as El reaches for the blaster at her hip. She tries not to fumble with it, tries to find the calm she normally has during target practice. She’s never fired at a living creature before, finds that her resolve melts the moment a tentacle wraps around her wrists, trapping them, and drags her forward. Her boots leave a blue trail behind her until the creature lifts her clear of her feet. Her blaster clatters to the ground beside the pile of Max’s uniform. El gets a short scream out, eyes wide and terrified, before a tendril slapped over her mouth blocks it.

“El, stop! It’s not hurting me, and it won’t hurt you.” Max shakes off the tentacles at her wrists and ankles, shoos away the one between her legs like a naughty dog. Her face is flushed to her hairline when she meets El’s frightened stare. “I can explain.” 

She pets a hand over the mass of tentacles under her. Up close like this, El can pick them out too despite how they seem to congeal in one mass when they settle under Max. That must be its central mass, where whatever serves as a brain must be. El’s brown eyes flash to their blasters, but she knows they’re too far out of reach. She whimpers behind the tendril over her mouth when the creature lifts her and draws her closer. Max’s hand shakes a little when she shoos this tendril away too and then wipes blue mucous off El’s face.

“I’m okay,” she says softly, embarrassment piping hot on her face as she avoids meeting El’s eyes for too long. Max next reaches to El’s communicator plugged into her ear, asks, “You trust me to scout new planets and make sure it’s safe for you and the crew. You know I’d never let anything happen to you. Do you trust me right now?”

El doesn’t hesitate to nod. When she licks her lips, it tastes like nothing.


Max plucks the communicator from El’s ear and tosses it away. It lands somewhere soft, probably in Max’s clothes.

Sucking in an uneven breath, El says, “Explain.”

“I was walking with you earlier, showing you trails I thought were game paths.” She snorts, rolls her eyes at herself, and then pats a nearby tentacle. “I was wrong, though. This whole area is a nest for this… whatever this is.”

A tentacle wanders up Max’s thigh, playing as if it will sink inside her again. She pokes it away, and it turns its inspection on El instead. She can’t help her wild flinch and spooked whimper.

“It won’t touch you if you don’t want it to. It understands us somehow, but you’d have to ask Dustin about it.”

“What is it doing to you?”

Max squirms where she rests on the creature, has to poke yet another tentacle away from her thigh. It’s eager, and El cannot blink away the image of Max writhing a little when it had pushed inside her. It must feel good for Max to allow this, if the creature is intelligent enough to understand consent. 

“As far as I can tell? It just…” Max chews over her words, face so pretty as she scowls through her blush, embarrassed. “It just needs a warm body to… lay its eggs in?” Her eyes flick up to meet El’s but then dart away again. “It’s a two step process um… It seems like it lays them first, but they’re not fertile yet. And too soft to survive outside of uh… a body.”

El nods where she’s held aloft. Her hands start to tingle, but before she can whine, the creature adjusts its hold on her. Its gentleness surprises her when a tendril wraps around her hips so her hands can be free. El squeezes the joints as blood rushes back in. Swallowing hard once more and wishing she could squirm like Max right now, El peeks at her crewmate through bangs that fall in her eyes. Max has no regard for her nudity, pays no mind to the tentacles that massage her thighs or wrap around her waist to squeeze her. She just keeps poking a tentacle or two away from between her legs. It's eager to get back to business, and El is torn between leaving Max here and…

“You’ve been with it all this time,” El points out with her voice a little rough.

Max winces, admits, “Yea, it… it takes some time. It fertilizes its own eggs, that’s the second step. And then they… well they sort of…” Max slaps both hands to her face, overcome, and blurts out, “Well the eggs have to come out, and they can be… big.”

El needs no further explanation, although her traitorous gaze once more falls between Max’s legs. No wonder she’s sore. She looks it, puffy between her legs and dripping despite being empty.

“Do you think it’s close to being done?”

“I hope so,” Max sighs as her hands slip from her face. She pets the next tentacle that tries to wiggle into her lap. “It’s not unpleasant or anything, feels amazing even though it’s a little gross. Just so fucking embarrassing.” She barks a laugh to the sky and then shoots El a sheepish grin. “It was nice of you to come looking for me, still wish you didn’t see this.”

“I don’t mind.”

Max perks up at that.

“You don’t think it’s weird that I’m letting an alien fuck me?”

El has suspected for some time that Max’s… persuasion stretches far and wide. Max flirts casually with the human members of their crew, will sometimes disappear when they stop at a colony. El is usually the only one to notice, spies Max slipping away with all manner of non-humans. The fact that she keeps it a secret, assumes El would think less of her, hurts El’s heart. They’re crewmates. They’re in this together.

“It’s not weird. I want to help.”

She says as much with a brave face but a quiver between her legs. She’s not exactly sure what Max had meant when she said the eggs can be big…

Max blinks at her, eyes huge, and says, “Seriously?”

The tentacle around El’s waist gives a rolling squeeze like it means to massage her. It hears her loud and clear. She rests a hand on it, finds that it’s the same temperature as her skin. Slippery as mucous builds under her touch, but not the worst thing she’s ever felt. That would be Mike fumbling with her in the dark and trying to shove his prick in the wrong hole.

“Yes,” she says softly. It’s El’s turn to avoid Max’s gaze as she blushes, too. “You must be tired. And if you say it doesn’t hurt, then I trust you.”

“It can be intense,” Max warns. 

El stares down at the blue glow. She pokes it like Max does and almost giggles when a shiver runs through the tendril. It tickles, but she swallows the urge to laugh.

“I can handle it. It will let us go if we want to leave.”

It’s not a question, but Max nods anyway. A smile breaks across her face, and she sits up as if to help El out of her clothes. The creature is way ahead of them, slips under any hem it can find until El’s clothes practically melt off her. Her uniform will be a pain to clean, even more of a pain to walk back in. If she can walk when this is over. She’s not worn out like Max is after hours of servicing this creature. And Mike can never fuck her like she wants.

Finally naked to match Max, the creature draws El into the mass of its tentacles. No tremor lingers in Max’s hands as she pulls El close and tilts her head in a familiar way. Nothing has ever happened between them. Nothing more than Max wrapping a casual arm around her sometimes or a passing comment that El looks nice today. But El recognizes the hooded stare Max gives her, shivers to be on the receiving end of it. She gives Max a small noise when their lips meet, opens her mouth with barely a flick of Max’s tongue. Her next noise is a startled yelp and has nothing to do with Max.

“Oh yea,” Max drawls with a grin when they separate, nearly leering at El shivering at the first touch. “It’s not shy. Here, lemme…”

She slithers a hand down, cupping El between her legs. A fine eyebrow arches on Max’s face when she turns intense eyes back on her.

“Oh. See I thought you needed a little warm up, but damn…”

She draws her fingers through pink folds and comes away with them already sticky and shiny. The creature is eager to take her place, nestles a tentacle against El’s entrance and pushes. It’s too much girth all at once, but it picks up her flinch and reads her like a book. It rocks gently back and forth like the tip of a finger, in out in out.

“Damn,” Max swears under her breath, rubbing her fingers together. “How long were you standing there watching me?”

El’s body already starts to give, wants nothing more than to suck the tentacle deep down inside her when she breathes, “N-not long, I… I’m sorry.”

“Awww, don’t be, baby,” Max laughs, draws El back in kissing range with her messy hand. She holds El still while taking a long kiss, stays in her personal space when she purrs, “I like how hot you are for me. Wish I’da known sooner.”

Max eats up whatever El wants to say, curls her fingers in El’s hair and tugs on the strands while they trade messy kisses. El’s hands flinch to hold onto Max’s shoulders, but they slip easily over her skin. Max’s hands take that as an invitation to touch her, and they roam from her neck, past her smaller breasts, down to her hips before running the gauntlet again. El whines against Max’s smirk when the tentacle inside her finds a good rhythm and shoves into her. She’s wet enough for it, stupid horny after watching Max first and now submitting to the redhead’s hungry kisses. Mean pinches to both her nipples jolt El again, and she moans with her mouth hung open when Max leans back. Blue eyes flash when they glance down to the action, and Max gives her own groan.

She reaches down to scramble at a tentacle, panting, “Me too, damn it, fuck me too. I’m not done with you yet.”

Still, when a tentacle slides into her with full permission, Max shudders and moans. Her hips don’t jerk like El’s, don’t seek to match the creature’s rhythm. El distracts Max from any soreness or discomfort, cradles her jaw when El starts up their kisses again. The mass of tendrils under them writhes as it fucks them at the same time. It’s easier if they lie down on their sides. El cracks an eye open to watch Max hook an arm under her own leg and hoist it high, giving access. It must change the angle, too, because Max’s moans turn sweet in El’s mouth. The creature sets an even, intense pace. It’s somehow more gentle than a human fucking her, but the speed and girth make up for that. El wills the creature to use her harder, to take the burden off Max. The tentacle in her obliges, rams into her until she sees stars and gives a warning throb around it. It responds in kind, swelling inside her until she’s stuffed.

“Max,” she whimpers, clings to Max’s hands between them. “I-I think I’m gonna come.”

“Fuck yes,” Max hisses right back, finally rocks her body into the creature’s thrusts. She shakes a hand free from El’s clutches to cup her cheek. “Fuck that’s hot, El. I wanna see.”

El manages to keep her eyes open until the end. She has no choice but to squeeze them shut when she throbs in waves around the tendril pounding her. It doesn’t give up, doesn’t stumble in its thrusts like a human would. It swells to the point of pain against her writhing walls. El’s head tipped back, her cries echo in the clearing as something bursts in her. The pressure is intense, damn near chokes her despite being nowhere near her throat. Short nails dig into the back of Max’s hand as she holds on for dear life. El blinks back moisture in her eyes and looks down quickly enough to watch the tentacle slide out of her, sopping wet and leaving her dripping. She’s still full despite it leaving her, and confusion ripples across her face. She’s not empty for long as another tentacle reaches for her.


Brown eyes blink and then find Max’s face through the blur. El winces when the next tentacle pushes in. This one is thinner by a long shot, serves a different purpose than the last.

“Keep looking at me,” Max breathes as the thrusting begins again. They’re both red in the face from all this, from the sloppy noises below. But El obeys, shudders when Max adds, “It’s gonna feel so good when the eggs are ready. Don’t be afraid, I’m right here, it’ll feel good, I promise.”

She trusts Max, cranes forward for some comfort and kisses. Max hums against her, and their bodies shift as one as the creature fills them one last time. More pressure, although not nearly as intense as last time. El flushes all over when she realizes what’s happened, squirms on the length pumping them full a second time. When they separate to pant and catch their breaths, El glances down once more, unable to help herself. Something blue leaks out of them and glows just like the dust and the creature itself. It’s warm like she’s wet herself but knows that’s not the case. Her hands clinging to Max twitch as something starts to move amongst all the nerves fucked and rubbed raw in her.

Shivering, El sighs, “Max,” against bitten lips and pecks little kisses to them. “It feels…”

More shifting, the tentacle retreats again only to carefully loop around one of El’s thighs and spread her open. Max takes her fill, isn’t shy at all about reaching down to feel through the mess and find El’s entrance. Max bites her lower lip and shivers, retreats to grab El’s free hand and drag it down between her legs.

“Here, can you feel it? They’re soft like the tentacles.”

Max guides El’s short fingers past red hair and folds that are sore, a little swollen after all this. But sure enough, El curls her fingers inside Max and bumps into something that shouldn’t be there. It’s about the side of a clementine and slides into El’s fingers with only that slight caress. It follows El’s retreat and glides right out of Max, disappearing amongst the writhing mass under them.

“Fuck,” Max gasps with a shiver. “Fuck, that feels good.”

El isn’t so sure until she shifts her body, disturbing the clutch in her. She yelps and tightens around something sliding down and out. El’s yelp breaks into a moan as a few more take the plunge. They’re much softer than she’d thought, feel more like a tongue flicking in and out of her than anything else. She squirms so pretty when Max sits up more and pulls her open, obscene and pink in the low light so she can watch. El slaps her hands to her face but makes no move to cover herself. Max watching every egg pop out turns up the heat in her that had dropped down to a simmer. She could come again, will if each egg drags past her sweet spot as it slides out.

“Just like that, baby, you’re doing great. Feels good, huh?”

El nods behind her hands, bends her leg higher to change the angle like Max before. She tightens around the next egg that tries to slide free, groans through it slipping against that tightness and working itself loose. It pops out of her just like the rest, and El’s hips give a jerk. When something wet wiggles against her clit, El peeks between her fingers and nearly comes at the sight. Max pets the shiver in El’s bent thigh as she laps so gently, her free hand tucked between her own legs. Max trembles against her and pants softly when she needs to catch her breath. It must be good for her too even after hours of this. El can’t fathom that, welcoming clutch after clutch and coming so much, overstimulated. Blue eyes glimmer when they glance up at her, Max never stopping the gentle flick of her tongue. El nearly bites her knuckles when her whole body throbs again, the last eggs working themselves loose, and she comes under Max’s tongue.

She thinks she squeals Max’s name when she comes. She definitely throws a hand down to Max’s hair and holds on, maybe presses Max’s mouth harder on her clit. Max’s moan shivers around the sensitive bundle of nerves, and El’s thighs almost box Max’s ears. If not for the tendril still hoisting El’s leg out of the way, she’d squeeze her crewmate’s head while gushing. Max’s moans turn high and fluttery, her body following El’s lead, and El pets Max’s hair all through her orgasm. Strange that this has been the most gentle and yet also most intense orgasm of El’s life. She’s not sure if anything Mike can do can compare. In hindsight, watching Max wander away with so many non-humans, she sees the appeal now. 


No more tentacles reach for them as El gathers Max up and draws her close. Max’s head ends up on El’s shoulder as they hold each other. Thankfully for them, the creature lingers and covers them, keeping them warm. Gratitude perhaps for giving it the warm places it needs for its eggs. El is just thankful it leaves them alone, that it’s done with them. According to Max, it has been agreeable all this time. El would hate for things to take a turn during the afterglow. She would regret having to kill it after so much bliss and pleasure.

Groaning, Max bites at El’s collarbones and whines, “Walking back is gonna suck!” She lifts her head only to thump it back down, missing anything delicate. “Carry me.”

El hides a little smile in Max’s hair. A kiss too, although Max lifts her head to take a real one. They sigh as they part, Max bumping the tips of their noses together. The blue glow all around them softens the mischievous smirk that splits across Max’s face.

“Next time we stop at a colony… You wanna go with me instead of sticking with the boys? I can show you where all the real fun is.”

If Max is involved, it will be fun. That’s all El needs.

“Yes, I… I’d like that. Please.”

Max coos at her and kisses her again, sighs, “Damn you’re so cute. I really shoulda been fucking you sooner.”

El hesitates to agree, murmurs, “But Mike…”

Max scoffs, sits up, and starts making her way out of the pile. She offers El a hand like a gentleman to help the smaller girl back to her feet.

“Dump his ass,” Max says with a grin, still naked as El tries to draw her soaked clothes back on. “Go back to him if you want, but live a little why don’t you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

El worries very much that she could fall in love with this wild woman. That’s probably the worst that could happen: loving a woman who won’t be kept. Max is too free for such shackles, too wild for the bars of love. Still… what could it hurt?

El returns Max’s grin, announces to the clearing, “I will. I’ll break up with Mike.”

“Fuck yea.” Max loops an arm around El as they stagger away, her more so than El. She chants to the forest, “Dump his ass! Dump his ass!”

Their twin giggles echo off the trees around them as they leave a trail of glowing, blue dust in their wake. It will take a few showers to be clean, but they’ll do it together. Wherever Max goes, El wants to be by her side.

Chapter Text

With Max entertaining tonight—Jane, Eleven, it’s the girl who’d sort of saved him, that one—Billy has no hopes of getting off with anything but his left hand. Max playing her music on the other side of the wall, giggling and bad singing breaking through, isn’t exactly mood music. Billy’s Walkman will do the trick, drowns the teenage sleepover antics he’s not interested in. They’ll probably end up going to bed soon anyway—it’s damn near two in the morning, Susan and Neil at some couples shit through the church Neil drags her too. So of course Max would pick this blessed weekend to have company and deny him. Whatever, it’s her loss.

Flopping back on his bed hard enough to shake the frame, Billy grumbles as the cord for his headphones immediately tries to tangle. He refuses to get worked up over that or Max’s betrayal, focuses instead on the excited rush of blood starting to kick up. The rest of him knows exactly what he has in store. A mix-tape of his own making screams in his ears as he shucks his jeans and kicks them over the side of the bed. Bare except for the thin wifebeater stretched across his chest, Billy lies down with a grin. His right arm loops up, hand cupped behind his head. He can watch if he wants; it’s part of the fantasy and excitement, even if his hand is bigger than Max’s. Or Eleven’s.

She’s not exactly new material in his spank bank. The first time Max had marched up to him and demanded a ride to the pool with El in tow, bathing suits already on, he gave it a shot. She’s skinny like a bird with big eyes to match. But she’s cute when she’s with Max. They’re teenage girls and hang all over each other. So it’s easy to twist that affection in his head and play out the budget, homemade smut in his fantasy. Max has an edge to her, is bossy until someone knocks her back down a peg or two. Billy glances down his body with a hissed breath, wonders if Max would shove El down, taking charge. Or if she’d be sweet and sour about it like he has to be with skittish girls like El. Talk sweet-nothings to them, promise the moon on a string, and they all spread their legs. What would it take to get little Jane on her back?

The first graze of Billy’s rough palm over his length is like heat on a sore muscle. He groans and hisses through his teeth, makes all manner of ridiculous faces as he watches himself. Billy’s body is the main source of his pride, and his dick is no exception to that. Thumb swirling and teasing the head peeking out of his foreskin, Billy laughs to himself and leans his head back into the pillow under him. He’s not shy with himself, left hand a familiar grip around his length. It would be better with the girls here. He and Max could teach El everything. She follows Max around like a puppy, eager for any morsel of knowledge Max hands down like she’s a gift from god. Her pussy certainly is, and Billy's imagination flips back and forth between Max bouncing on his cock and coming in El’s mouth. He’s got a rhythm going, hips rocking into his fist, when he opens his eyes and finds El staring at him.

“Jesus kid!”

Billy flinches hard and nearly rockets off his bed. In his mad scramble, Billy’s headphones rip off his head and are lost to the sheet twisted under him. Heart hammering away for a different reason now, he makes no move to cover himself. She’s been standing there for long enough to get an eyeful, isn’t subtle when she stares between his legs. Telling a girl to get the fuck out of his room with a boner isn’t the most graceful move here. At least he hadn’t been talking to himself. Tapping his temper down, Billy swings his legs over the side of his bed, dick still out. Still hard, too, and it bobs when he settles down. He snorts through a smirk as he watches El watch him back. He snaps at her a few times until she stops staring at his dick. Not that he minds the attention.

“My eyes are up here,” he drawls. “Don’t you understand what a closed door means?”

She leans against said door with her hands behind her back. It would look coy on anyone else. El is determined, rocks herself off his shut door and takes a step closer. Her bare feet are silent on the hardwood floor. Billy’s ears strain for any sound in the room next to his. But there’s nothing. Max must be asleep.

Hands still behind her back, El takes another step forward, says, “It means you want to be alone.” Her dark eyes flash down, Billy still hard, and she adds, “But you don’t want to be alone.”

Humming, patronizing her, Billy leans back on his hands braced against the bed. His feet slide farther apart on the floor, welcoming El’s gaze wherever she wants to look.

“Oh yea? What makes you say that?”

Now she looks him dead in the eye, says, “Because if I weren’t here, you’d be having sex with Max.”

She’s weird. He knows that, knew that before she’d reached inside his mind and set him free. So Billy’s stomach doesn’t give a lurch like it would if anyone else told him this. That they know about his illicit relationship with his dear sister. Step-sister. Max would never speak a word of their secret to anyone. Too much at stake. 

“And how exactly do you know that?”

Blue eyes narrowing at her, El is not immune to Billy’s growl or glare. She could kill him on accident but still startles a little on her feet and turns her eyes away from him. The fact that he scares her a little even now, years after Starcourt, soothes some of Billy’s ruffled feathers. He has the upper hand, his favorite way to play this game. He can be nice. She’s clearly here for him, although it tickles Billy that El has struck out on her own without Max. Thinking on her own. That sort of boldness deserves encouragement. Sitting up as his amusement and curiosity grow, Billy crooks a finger at her. 

“Come here.” When El rolls her pale lips flat, looks like she’ll bolt instead, Billy snaps, “I’m not gonna hurt you. Now get over here.”

El doesn’t flush and get huffy like Max. Or any girl for that matter. She nods and then takes that last step to his bed, sits to his right. When Billy reaches for her stern chin, El flinches in his fingers. But she makes no move to stop him or defend herself. So Billy tips her head up, chuckles a little when her eyes don’t follow. She can’t seem to stop staring at his dick, like she’s never seen one before. Billy doubts that, gives El’s jaw a gentle shake to draw her attention up to him. She’s pretty like this, blinking up at him with her lips slightly parted. The longer he stares at her, body heat rolling off him, the more El’s sternness breaks down. Billy thumbs the corner of her mouth and earns a shudder from her, a dusting of pink on her cheeks.

“Now,” he purrs, “tell me how you know about me and Max. And don’t lie.”

Her little throat works hard over a swallow and she holds Billy’s stare when she admits, “I was spying.”


El nods in his fingers, admits through a mumble, “I’m not supposed to. But Joyce wouldn’t bring me to see Max, and I wanted to see her. So I spied.”

The hairs on the nape of Billy’s neck stand up. Spy. She means her little mind trick. Like when she’d poked around the steel mill, here in his bedroom. He was sitting just like this when he grabbed her. Forcing the memories down to their murky depths, Billy taps his thumb at the corner of El’s mouth. When she licks her lips, she almost touches him.

“Who would have thought you’re a little pervert,” he wonders aloud. When Billy takes his hand back, considering what to do with this, El leans closer. Like she doesn’t want him to stop. So he runs his fingers through the thick hair above her ear, nice and gentle like, and then holds the side of her head. “So what did you see?”

Her cheek is hot against his palm, pink building. He can’t help but stroke his thumb over peach fuzz and warmth, back and forth to get her used to it. He’ll do a lot more if El keeps up her boldness and doesn’t wilt under his intimidation. She’s strong like Max, though. She wants something from him, and she’s determined to get it.

El leans her head into Billy’s hand, unafraid, and murmurs, “You were here with her, having sex with her thighs.”

Ah, last weekend, then. Billy snorts again, bites back an actual laugh. The words are awkward on El’s tongue, unpractised, but her desire screams to him. She had a taste and immediately moved forward to try him on for size. If El were a normal girl, he’d call her a whore. The word doesn’t quite fit her. She’s eager, hungry as she keeps looking him all over. Billy doubts it would take much to encourage her to touch, to explore on her own. She’s forward in a blunt way he can appreciate. No games. No pussyfooting around. 

“Yea, I didn’t have any condoms. Shame, ain’t it? You coulda watched me fuck Max into this bed.”

She gives him a shiver, and Billy’s fingers tighten in her hair. He tips her head up, relishes the way El can’t meet his eyes for long. She’s the only one of Max’s annoying friends who can meet him stare for stare. Not right now as her little hands flinch in her lap. She’s almost there, almost ready to give him whatever he wants. Billy always was good at wrapping girls around his finger.

Voice like butter and sugar, Billy asks, “You want that? You wanna know what that feels like? I’ll be gentle, pinky promise.”

El shakes her head, pushes Billy’s hand away. Billy’s honey sours some, and he frowns like a crinkle in a sheet of paper. Before Billy’s irritation gets going, though, El is bold once more. 

Her hand wraps around him without hesitation, squeezes and strokes like she’s not sure what to do. Billy’s hand twitches where it cups around her shoulder, about to grab her for denying him. Maybe not the smartest thing to do, but Billy’s not really big on smarts. What smarts he has short out as he covers El’s hand around his cock and helps her find the right grip and tightness. He lets go once she’s got it, confident that whatever she wants will end up with him coming. Which is all that matters. Billy still manages a low grumble when El lets him go. She sits up on her knees and faces him, breathing calmly while he huffs. It’s not warm tonight by any means, and El gives him a show with her little nipples pebbling under her sleep shirt. It’s one of his t-shirts that Max has stolen, how cute. 

“I want you to do what you did with Max.”

Billy speaks up before El can say anything weird and ruin the mood, “I’ve got condoms now, baby, we can do more.”

“No,” she insists, face stern once more. A misstep.

Billy takes El by her waist and twists to face her for real. He urges her forward to knee-walk between his legs. 

“Okay, chill out.” He pets her up and down, careful over ribs just below skin and cotton. She’s thinner than Max, tiny. He probably wouldn’t fit in her anyway, and he’s not interested in having his dick ripped off with her mind. He turns sweet again, looks up at her with his crooked smile. “We can do that. You gotta do what I say, though.”

With a nod, Billy has her.

“Groovy.” His crooked smile takes on an oily sheen to it. Billy plucks at the elastic of El’s panties, purrs, “Take these off and lie down. I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

Maybe no one has ever talked to El like that. She just nods and does as she’s told. It’s simple to scoot back on his bed, roll onto his side, and then pat the space in front of him. It’s awkward to lie on his left arm like this and hold her with his right. But El is smooth, pale skin and warm against him, alive, so the extra effort is worth it. A big hand cradles her hip at first while Billy makes nice, nuzzling her neck and kissing her like he would Max. El wiggles under his hand, tosses an impatient look at him. Billy flicks an eyebrow up at her while dragging his hand down and scratching bitten nails through the wisp of hair between her legs. That melts some of El’s sternness, more and more until it drips off her as he tucks his fingers against her clit and rubs. Gently at first since she’s dry. Once El starts shaking and grinding her body into his fingers, though, he knows she’s not afraid.

She whines a little with her hair messy on Billy’s pillow when he pulls away. Little hands tug at his wrist to bring him back, but he shakes her off. If he’s going to do this and not rub his dick raw, then he needs lube. He would have come already without El interrupting, isn’t interested in playing the long game. Maybe when she asks him to fuck her, but not for this. She doesn’t need any prep other than some lube on her thighs. Billy cranes up on his elbow, reaches over El, and fishes around inside his nightstand. When El huffs and reaches for his arm, he rolls a little on top of her, flattening her under him. He has to resist grinding his hardon into her bottom.

“Quit, I’m just grabbing something.”

El remains still under him, breathing a little too fast. Frantic like a trapped animal, fingers digging into the bare mattress under her nails. Billy rolls back off El with a frown, sets the lube down to shake her upper arm.

“Don’t freak out on me, now.” He pinches El’s upper arm, and she gasps like bursting to the surface of a pool. “Take a breath, kid, Jesus.”

What a boner killer. It’s not fun when they’re actually scared. He didn’t even do anything.

“I’m fine,” El insists, shaking her head hard like a dog to work the shiver out. “I don’t like small spaces.”

Cautiously, Billy says, “All right… You good?”

Another nod. El picks up the plastic tube of lube and looks over it.

“What is this?”

Billy plucks it back out of her fingers and flicks the cap open. He nudges her thigh with his elbow, needing El to open her legs so he can do this one-handed.

“Lube. It’ll make this feel good, so open your legs.”

It’s nice to just get right to it and not screw around with foreplay. Sometimes Max is onboard with that, comes to him horny and in high gear. El may not be that horny yet, but he’ll lean into her eagerness. Billy bows his head to kiss under her ear when El does as she’s told, hikes a leg high. The lube is cold on her thigh, and she shivers, presses herself harder to Billy’s warmth. Billy murmurs in her blushing ear to keep her leg up while he positions himself. He’ll spread the lube around when he finally guides her leg down, cock nestled between them. He hums at the initial pressure, and a smirk tugs at his wicked mouth when El sighs. Her skin is chilly against his. Not for long.

Squeezing El’s thigh, Billy holds her top leg down when he rolls his hips. It’s not as good as actual fucking, of course. But if she likes this, maybe she’ll warm up to the idea. Billy keeps his weight off El, holds her down only with his right hand on her thigh. El lies there motionless and quiet, holding tension in her shoulders while he picks up a rhythm. It takes a few drags of velvety hardness against her pussy to work that tension out. El’s breathing picks up with each snap of Billy’s hips until she rocks a little with him. When she squeezes him between her thighs, his hand finally wanders away. Trusting that El will keep that pressure up.

Billy angles his thrusts up and against El to nudge her clit. If Billy hooks his chin over her trembling shoulder, he can watch the lewd display—lube shiny on the head of his dick, spreading it around with each brush between her folds. El’s warmed up now, needs something to make this good for her. El startles under his arm, hides her face as she moans a little.

“Just like that,” he grunts, picking up speed. “You like me fucking you, baby?”

El’s voice breaks when she moans. Billy takes that as a yes, grins and he swirls his hips to rub them together more. She bites her lip the longer he keeps it up, shaking as she squirms and rubs herself on him. Billy wouldn’t mind El shouting, maybe waking up Max and adding her to the mix. But if El wants to do this under Max’s nose, he won’t rock the boat. Not with El squeezing him harder and harder, lube slick, filthy, loud between them. Billy pants in the nape of El’s neck until her hair curls from the humidity. She’s salt and sweat under his lips when he bites her. El jolts again, tiny ass bucking into him.

“More,” she gasps.

Rather than grumble about it, Billy grabs a thin wrist and guides El’s hand to her own clit. She takes the hint, touches herself so he can keep a firm hand on her. Billy can’t roll on top of her unless he wants to ruin this. The friction burn of his left side rubbing against the bare mattress isn’t great either. He ignores all that and the sweat itching at his hairline to focus on El. How little she is against him, her light panting, the smoothness of her thighs. The lube will go tacky if this lasts much longer. So Billy clamps his teeth in El’s neck to hold her down and pistons between her thighs. He eats up the moan that tingles on his lips, imagines he has El folded to the bed while he pounds into her, slamming balls deep every time. El jerks under his hand, squealing a little. She doesn’t make a mess as she comes. But Billy will.

Shivering all over and groaning in El’s neck, Billy’s hips buck with the first spurt that shoots out of him. Distantly, he thinks he hears El gasp. He’s too far gone to care, everything below his navel twitching hard as he comes. Like he’s inside her, Billy grinds the root of his cock against El’s ass. He probably shouldn’t come on her, probably shouldn’t fuck through the sticky mess of his come. He chases the waves of his orgasm anyway and only slows the rocking of his hips when he goes soft. A careful shuffle of El’s thighs around him has him grunting, stop. When El reaches with curious fingers to touch his head and play with the come smeared on them, Billy snatches her wrist again.

“Stop,” he grumbles. 

“Does it hurt when you do that?”

Her voice is a little rough after all this, cracking. 

“Do what?”


Billy’s snort is ugly in El’s neck. No chick has ever asked him that, and he’s never thought about it.

“No,” he laughs. “Why would it hurt? Does it hurt when you come?”

“I guess not.” El tugs on her wrist, and Billy lets her go. Still, she eyes the mess of lube and his come going clear between her thighs. 

Humming, Billy nudges her towards the edge of the bed, drawls, “Cool. Now get outta my room. Unless you want Max to wake up and find out what we were doing.”

Max will find out eventually. El’s too naive to lie, seems to share everything with Max. Billy regards her narrow back when El stands, wondering what Max will think about all this. If she’ll get jealous that El had sought him on her own. It’s not like he dangled the forbidden fruit in front of her and seduced her away from Max. El is curious. Who is he to deny that curiosity? Wiping himself off with the sheet pushed to the floor, Billy avoids the damp spot under him as best he can. He loops both arms behind his head, sighs, and gets comfortable to enjoy the afterglow.


“What?” He cracks open an eye. “I said beat it.”

El stands at his bedroom door, open just enough to let her slip out. She lingers though, panties balled up in her hand while she chews over her lip.

“Next time, I want Max here. You can fuck me if Max is here.”

‘Next time’ loops in his head, and he hums, “Ask and ye shall receive. Maybe we’ll fuck you together, how’s that sound?”

Now El flushes like earlier, nods even as she wiggles through the gap in the door. The pink dusted across her cheeks is the image Billy holds in his head as drifts, plans set into motion. He only needs to wait and see what becomes of El’s boldness, her curiosity. Hopefully it will lead her right back to him. Next time.

Chapter Text

Befriending Max and setting her white-hot jealousy aside has been a good thing. Not because it settles the tension amongst their friends. Not because Max is the only normal girl she’s ever known. Normal compared to El and teaches her normal-girl things. No, it’s been a good idea because of Max’s step-brother Billy.

Max scoffs and huffs and complains about him constantly. She has a particular scowl just for Billy conversations like she’s licked a lemon. Billy is older than them. Bigger, louder, angrier. Max says to steer clear of him at all costs. Not like El needs protecting, could flip Billy on his head with a twitch of hers. He’s scary when he’s loud, red seeping into the center of his face and turning him ugly. Jim doing the same and yelling at her always drops her into a pit of despair. Like he’ll abandon her and she’ll be alone again. Billy’s anger comes from the outside. Something about his dad is like a distant appliance humming. El could find out if she did a little snooping. She’s not supposed to, even if Billy doesn’t know about the rule.

El’s curiosity will not be denied. So she takes to casually observing him whenever Jim lets her visit Max. He’d rather Max always come to the cabin so he can control who comes and goes. El knows that, squirms under that tight leash. So they don’t often end up in Max’s room on Cherry Lane. When they do though? El hopes every time that Billy is home. His music is always at a high volume, sounds harsh and strange. When he’s not trying to blow out everyone’s ear drums with his boombox, he’s steady at work with his weights. That’s what El likes the most: peeking just outside Max’s bedroom to the clink of metal weights on the bar, sweat in the air, Billy grunting with a cigarette hanging off his lip. His allure frustrates and confuses her. She likes Mike, likes kissing him and being near him. So why does Billy’s presence pull her out of orbit and send her sparking and flaming as she burns up? 

It’s not something she can discuss with Max. Even if she confides everything in her new best friend. Max is smart. And when she’s not smart, she’s clever. So El approaches her boundless frustration and confusion how she thinks Max would. She picks it apart like lifting a log to find the squirming things that live under it. What about Billy draws her in? He’s pretty for a man. El has certainly never seen a man she would call pretty. Steve is pretty too, just in a different way. Steve is pretty like a painting hanging on a wall while Billy is pretty like fireworks. El is more interested in fireworks. Billy is strong, too. He’s always working out when he’s home. His strength means nothing to El with her powers always humming just under her skin. But he is… a sight to behold with skin shining, muscles bulging beneath the tan expanse of him. His power ripples under his surface just like her…

The thick bar of Billy’s weights clangs when he slams it down. El startles just inside Max’s door when Billy’s head whips around, glare already heavy on his face.

“Take a picture, you little weirdo, it’ll last longer.”

Max’s family has a Polaroid camera in the kitchen. They’ve played with it a few times with a gentle warning from Max’s mom to be careful. So El slips from Max’s room on silent feet once Billy hefts the bar back in his rough hands. The camera zips to El’s hand from the top shelf of the bookcase near the kitchen table. She wanders back into the living room, finds the camera’s on switch, and then lifts the plastic thing to her eye. Billy’s form is slightly foggy in the viewfinder. He startles after the flash, curses as he drops his cigarette to the floor while fighting with his weights.

“What the hell?” He sneers when he spies her standing there, camera churning out a fresh print. “Did you seriously just take a picture of me?”

El shrugs, thumbs the bottom of the photo where the white plastic borders the film. It’s already starting to discolor, shapes fading in as they develop.

“You said to take a picture, so I did.”

Billy blinks hard at her and slowly shakes his head as she walks away. El’s back is to him as she returns the Polaroid, and those intense eyes of him burn into her. 

When El returns to Max’s room, Billy scoffs, “Whatever,” under his breath. 

Max looks up from her comic book with a frown as El shuts the door. El spins around on the tips of her toes to secret the photo away. Her jacket hangs from a hook in the back of Max’s door. Cheeky photo safe, El bounds back to Max’s bed and climbs up to reclaim her spot. Music plays through Max’s radio, another normal thing she’s introduced to El. It’s different from Billy’s intense, loud music that sounds like metal crashing into other metal. El hasn’t decided if she likes either, although music is fun with Max when they sing together.

“What was that about? Was Billy yelling at you?”

Friends don’t lie. So El chews her bottom lip before she admits, “I was watching him lift weights.”

Max’s mouth screws up into her Billy scowl when she laughs, “Why would you watch him? He’s disgusting.”

Maybe. Maybe she should be disgusted at the sweat, the grunting, the smell. But already El’s eyes drift traitorously to her jacket. She wants to look at the photo. To see if Billy’s body is actually on display. If she can see the sweat beading on him, how his skin is tight over his muscles. If maybe she’d caught him looking into the camera in that intense, burrowing way of his. It will have to wait until she’s alone in her room. Max wouldn’t understand her fascination with Billy. 

So El shrugs and forces her eyes away from her jacket. She can be patient.

“I’ve never seen anyone do that,” she explains while picking up one of Max’s comic books. This doesn’t really interest her either, but if Max likes it, it must be good. “I was wondering why he does it.”

Max scoffs like it’s obvious, “Because he’s a musclehead idiot.” She levels a look at El like El is being silly. Max does that a lot, and El looks forward to the day when it stops. When she’s more normal. “Guys do stupid things all the time. Just ignore him and he’ll leave us alone.”

If only it were that easy. Already El knows she’ll have to try twice as hard not to spy on Billy. It would be so easy to lie down on her bed, blindfold comfortable across her eyes, and slip into his room unseen. What does he do when he’s alone, she wonders. Billy is so much unknown, so much mystery, she can’t stand it! Even now El wants to sneak away and snoop on Billy again. Even though she knows he’s still just lifting weights. Still grunting, smoking a new cigarette if the tang of smoke means anything. El’s resolve is weak in the face of that curiosity. She’ll be spying on him to learn his truths tonight. She’s eager for whatever she’ll witness, new pieces of information falling into place. At least until she grows bored and moves on to the next marvel that attracts her attention.

Chapter Text

Lying on her back, ginger fur ruffled from their playful wrestling, Max stills Billy’s paw between her legs. The lion has hovered above her for ages now, biting at her neck and breasts while sliding his finger slowly in and out. Max squirms on said thick finger, claw held back so courteously. She meets Billy’s confused frown through hazy eyes. She’s been thinking about this all day. Her ears flopped to the pillow around her head tremble, but oh she wants.


Max wiggles away from Billy, finger slipping out so easily, and she murmurs, “I’m ready. Fuck me.”

She expects the nasty grin Billy usually gives her. Instead, his frown persists.

“Not even close. Did you suddenly forget how tiny you are?”

To drive the point home, Billy slides his paw up Max’s thigh and splays his fingers wide over her belly. He could almost wrap a paw around her and pick her up, bat her around like a toy. A shiver starts in the nape of Max’s neck and races down. Even her tail twitches where it’s trapped against the bed.

“Did you forget how much you love that and like watching your dick split me open?” 

Blinking a few times, the dam of Billy’s concern breaks when he snorts.

“Oh, you want it like that.” His paw on her stomach stays there, presses down more to truly pin Max beneath him. Not that they need it. She’s not going anywhere. “Damn, bunny, why didn’t you just tell me you wanted it rough like that?”

“I’m telling you now,” she almost whines, stuck in a trance as she stares at Billy’s heavy cock between his legs. He’s been hard for a while now, tip messy as he oozes. She wants it now, not later when he’s stretched her out and crammed as many fingers in her as she can take. Not that it doesn’t feel good, just… Max shudders, admits, “I like it when you hold me down and make me take it.”

She likes being his prey. But no one else’s. To tell him the full truth would send Billy’s ego skyrocketing. So she stares him down, eyes fluttering as she watches him grit his teeth over a groan. Max gets a paw under her, tries to sit up and reach for Billy’s mane with the other. Her whole world spins on its head before little fingers come anywhere close to their goal. Billy’s paw on her stomach grapples with Max’s side, flips her over and then slams down between her shoulders. Max cannot help the panicked lurch in her stomach, the tiny squeak in her throat. Billy’s shadow swallows her whole. The roaring heat of him blankets her. Max shudders through a moan, lets it go loud when Billy rubs himself on her ass.

“On your knees, bunny,” he growls into a trembling ear. “Hope you’re wet enough for me.”

She’s nearly drunk with it, has to try a few times to get her knees under her. A mean swipe to her ass hurries her along, and the sting throbs as Max slumps onto her chest. She has no hope of staying up on her paws or even her elbows. She wants it just like this, and Billy shuffling behind her winds Max’s lust higher, hotter. Ginger fur helps her slide her knees wider apart where they’re sunk into the bed. Max cants her ass up, knows her tail won’t stop twitching. Billy’s gaze burns hot between her legs, making her squirm more. His right paw is flush between her shoulders, hasn’t moved. Billy’s other paw snatches her thigh to keep her open. So he can watch.

“You’re gonna be so tight,” he hisses. They moan together when he leans closer, dick rubbing messily against her. “Ready?”

All Max manages is a nod. She can’t trust her voice anymore, may say something stupid or embarrassing. Billy always teases her about being a horny bunny, constantly climbing up him and needing to be fucked. She denies, denies, denies, but knows right now that’s exactly what she needs. Max’s fingers claw into the sheet under them when Billy shifts forward. Their skin catches, stings a little, and he needs to use a paw to steady himself. Back and forth the blood-hot tip rubs, seeking that soft spot that will open for him and swallow him down. He finds it, exhales loud through his teeth as he pushes harder and harder. Max resists him even though it hurts. Like he actually needs to force her to take him. The thought, the fantasy of it brings fresh heat to her face, and Max’s body cannot deny Billy any longer. 

Max shrieks Billy’s name when her body gives. Then she pants and moans through every grueling inch of him. He burns where he’s buried inside her, panting almost just as heavily. Neither moves. Or rather neither tries to move, but Max shifts under Billy’s weight to get comfortable. There’s no getting comfortable with his dick stuffed inside her, with only a modicum of prep. If Max’s knees give out—they shake like they want to—she’ll hang off him. Billy’s paw on her back twitches to life like he knows she needs a little bit of comfort. He holds her still by her thigh while petting soft, red fur. Of course Billy can’t help himself, chuckles richly when he sweeps down to fondle Max’s ass for a moment. Normally she’d roll her eyes at him pulling her cheeks apart to look at his dick spearing her open. Instead she groans and wiggles on him despite the pain.

“Don’t move yet,” he purrs. Billy adjusts his paw on Max’s ass to keep her open. His thumb twitches so close to her asshole, will probably tease her later when he’s fucking her. “Fuck you’re so tight… Think I could get a finger in you, too?”

Max gasps, “No, don’t,” but melts at the prospect. It’s embarrassing how much she needs him right now. Horny, sloppy bunny like he’s always claiming she is. A slight shift on him spreads her passion around, helps their skin stop sticking. Billy allows her that gentle rocking, barely moving on him at all. Nearly crying, Max pleads, “Move, Billy, fuck I need you.”

He draws back and slams forward just as the first tear rolls down Max’s cheek. She can’t think anymore after that, is just a tight body for Billy to use. Each ram of his blunt head jars Max on her knees, but with his paw holding her down, she just has to take it. Billy snarls all manner of filth behind her. Not loud enough to cover up the slick noises between them. It all passes through Max’s limp ears without any impact. All she knows is the sharp burn slowly melting into pleasure the longer Billy fucks her. She thinks she comes squeezing and writhing on his cock. He doesn’t stop when her screams wind down to whimpers, carries on pounding into her. He’ll make a mess of her just like she wants—just never admits how much she likes it. Stuffed to the brim like this, Max just rides the waves of pleasure Billy always gives her, knowing her lion will take care of her when he’s done.

Chapter Text

Billy’s thighs are firm under El, hand gentle in her hair when he asks for the hundredth time, “You’re still sure about this?”

Billy and Max don’t play these sorts of games with her. Never a harsh hand on her. Never more than a tight grip on her hair holding her down to let one of them fuck her mouth. They’re always quick to let her go, to pet her and tell her how pretty she looks, how good she is. But never this. She’s sat by, or heard through the walls, Billy hauling Max over his knee and beating her ass red. And even though sometimes they tussle, sometimes Max shrieking for him to stop, he never does. Max likes it, doesn’t actually mean for Billy to stop. They have a special word that actually means stop. El has only heard it a few times. Always silence after. Always a bubble of emotion lodged in her throat choking her when she catches hard sobs from Max. Max needs space after that. And it hurts to be kept away from her.

A pinch to her ass, striped panties helping to dull it some, and Billy says a little louder, “You’re already being real quiet. You need to talk to me if we’re gonna do this.”

El nods, trips over her own tongue to blurt, “Yes, yes I’m still sure.” She wiggles under Billy’s hand as he gropes her next. “I want this.”

It’s taken all day to convince him. She had to do it without Max around. Because this has been brought up in the past. Billy will try anything—nearly anything—once. However, Max frowned at the idea and gently turned El away from it. Or rather tried to. Max isn’t here, though. And although Billy had agreed to drop the idea at the time, El knows him well. He may not spank her like he does Max, but his hands are hungry anyway. He likes to walk by casually and squeeze her bottom. Or give it pinches to make her jump. She knows like a neon sign flashes above his head that he wants to spank her, too. With the voice of restraint gone for the day, they should try it. El always enjoys whatever the siblings do to her. This will be no different. 

“All right.” A harsher squeeze to a cheek. This time it stings. “I’m gonna go to ten, and you’re gonna count them out. If you don’t, I stop. Understand?”

A nod and quiet, “Yes.”

The hand in her hair pets her for her response, and El bumps her head into that caress.

Billy’s pleased, “Good girl,” pets down the nape of her neck and makes her shiver. The hand that gropes her wanders from cheek to cheek, raking nails over cotton or pinching her. The attention warms her skin, gets her used to the pain. Billy had suggested she leave her sleep shorts on, but El wanted herself bare to him. Max can do it. She can do it too. They’ve compromised, have left El’s panties as the only barrier between Billy’s palm and her skin. She swallows hard when Billy pats her a few times, just friendly taps for now. She can do this.

He pauses with one last question, murmuring, “What do you say to get me to stop?”


Billy’s hand in her hair slides away, plants itself firmly between her shoulder blades. El tries not to tense, tries with everything in her to stay pliant in Billy’s lap. Tensing will make her reactionary flinch that much more painful. It helps that she has no idea when Billy will finally bring his hand down for the first smack. El’s hands ball under her chin as she waits, pulse rabbiting away in her throat. There’s not much more than skin and bones on her. Billy will have to reign in some of his brutality while hitting her. She doesn’t have Max’s plush— 

The pain and sound seem to come at the same time. Surely that isn’t the case. El yelps after the clap reaches her ears, tenses up like a bow across Billy’s thighs. She needs a breath and a lick of her lips to say, “One.”

Two and three aren’t any easier. Billy peppers them evenly across her cheeks, across pale skin. It’s not enough to numb her yet, but the number four drags slowly out of her mouth. Billy brings down five faster than before. El’s head would drop to the bed if it weren’t already down. One hand remains fisted under her chin, nails catching on the sheet. Her other arm dangles down by Billy’s leg where she grips him. His sweatpants are thick enough to avoid the bite of her nails. She just needs something to hold on to. The whole of her body spins and lurches like she’s stepped off a cheap carnival ride. She isn’t sure which way is up, forces her eyes open so she’s not in the dark. Billy’s hand is a brand on her ass, skin humming under his touch. She hasn’t managed to say the next number. He’s waiting.

“S-sorry, um, five.”

He hums at that, but the sixth blow rains down on her. Wherever Billy has struck her hums like he does, numby like spicy food, vague like static on a screen. El thinks six slurs from her lips, but it feels like someone else’s mouth says it. Every time she closes her eyes, it’s too dark, head spinning too much from the pain. She may whisper seven, at least mouths it. But if she opens her mouth, water will flow in. From the tank, the dark place where she first learned how to spy. Billy is distantly warm under him. But the water had been warm, too. He fades away with everything else until El huddles on her belly, desperate to curl up and be safe.

A hand in her hair, shaking her a little.

“El? Baby, talk to me.”

El chokes on the first gasp that rushes past her lips. She’s back here, in their bedroom. Billy is here, one hand on her thigh to steady her with the other in her hair. He’s real, and she’s not back in the lab.

“Sunflower!” she shrieks.

El’s voice leaks through her terrified panting even as Billy drags her off her belly. She doesn’t go far, clings with thin arms around Billy’s neck as she hides against his chest. Wrapping her legs around him isn’t an option. Not with her bottom sore like this and the pain actually getting through in her head. It’s not terrible. Billy hadn’t even made it to ten. El’s stomach sours to think she’d barely made it past five. This was a mistake. She gets it, now, Max’s warning that it can be intense, that El may not like how her mind can drift. It takes Billy squeezing her to his chest to get her to calm down. Air starts to reach her lungs, her brain, and then she can hear again. El huddles tighter to Billy’s chest to muffle the whimpers she doesn’t want him to hear. She was always a loud, ugly crier when she was frightened.

Chapter Text

Steve is blind to the two pairs of hands that roam over him. He squashes a smile between his lips, though, because Billy and Max give themselves away. The rough hands kneading his ass and thighs are Billy’s. Max is perfectly capable of matching that roughness. She just doesn’t have an affinity for his ass like Billy does. Max’s hands are more interested in petting him all over, teasing his nipples just to switch things up. He startles and hums between them with every surprise lick of pain they give him. How he’ll manage to stop his knees from buckling in a moment…

His lovers’ caresses follow pale skin and beauty marks down, down, down until they’re the ones on their knees. Steve’s hands flinch at his sides to reach for them, but each denies him. Big hands grip his thighs from behind to steady him when Billy dots kisses all over his rear. In front, Max teases Steve’s inner thighs while she sucks marks below his navel. Although he cannot see the rest of the lovebites that already pepper all over him, each thrums to the beat of his heart. Faster and faster as the hands on him seek out sensitive places, ready to dive in.

A cool stream of air rushes over his hole when Billy thumbs his cheeks apart. Steve startles, groans a little behind his teeth. That groan blooms into a gasp and whine when plush lips mouth at the head of his dick. He’s hard just from them teasing him and murmuring filth in his ears. Max teases him even now, won’t fully wrap her lips around him. Her tongue flicks over his head, laps at the underside before she pulls away, blows cool air over the spit she leaves behind. They need to hold his weak, newborn legs when Billy takes his turn. Billy’s moustache scratches him, but Steve accepts it along with the tongue that wiggles against his hole. Freshly showered and prepped for them. He’ll accept whatever they give him, trust that they’ll make him see stars. 

Steve makes the mistake of reaching for Max beyond his blindfold. His fingers briefly brush her wavy hair, but she’s quick to smack his hands like a naughty child.

“No touching,” she scolds. “Let us take care of you.”

Billy hums in agreement but doesn’t bother to stop the long laps to Steve’s ass. He adjusts his grip to spread Steve wider, shoves his face deeper without a shred of shame. So Steve tangles his fingers against his chest and tries not to stumble between their kneeling forms. His gasps and moans—needy, cracking his voice—are embarrassing to his ears. They heat up beneath the cloth tied around his head. He’ll only get louder as they coax him with their devilish mouths closer to an orgasm. Who will be the one to ultimately push him over the edge? He’s not sure, is ready to bust the first time Max swallows him down. Even this is a tease, though, because she bows her head right back up just to suckle at his head again. She’ll be the one to keep up this torturous pace. Billy is plenty content with tracing circles around and around Steve’s hole before wiggling against that resistance. Steve’s belly tumbles in him when they attack him at once, dick buried in Max’s throat and the rest of him tingling thanks to stabs of Billy’s tongue. He’ll come trembling on his feet and panting their names. They always take care of him.

Chapter Text

Tongue in her teeth, Max knows Billy doesn’t stand a chance on the water guns. Sure, Billy has her beat on all the ‘test of strength’ games. He preened when he won the bell and mallet game by a mile, Max lucky to get the lightbulb above ‘wimp’ to come on. His victory has been short lived ever since. She has him on these games of chance not because luck is on her side but intelligence. Billy will force a square peg through a round hole rather than figure out the trick. Max knows all these games are rigged just like ticket games at the arcade. You’re not meant to land the baseball through the golden jug at the last game, because the mouth of the golden jug is the same size as the ball. All of Billy’s throws had bounced off the rim much to his annoyance. His basketball and baseball skills didn’t save him. She’s going to win this one, too, just because she stood here and watched to see which guns were actually firing at full force. Billy looks about two seconds from ripping the damn thing off the wooden plank it’s bolted too. All for the amusement of their audience, arms burdened with stuffed animals behind them.

“You guys…”

Max ignores Steve’s little whine, hisses to Billy, “You’re going down, asshole. You thought you could win carnival games against me?” She scoffs at the bell for the game rings. The clown head she’s been firing at is much higher than Billy’s. She wins. “In your dreams maybe.”

Billy turns to her with a scowl on his face. He takes the step between them and comes chest-to-chest with his sister, pokes her in a thin shoulder when he speaks.

“This is all kid stuff and you know it. If we were actually competing, I’d wipe the floor with you.”


Max arches onto her toes, ignores the sneer on Billy’s lips, and snaps, “Sounds like something a sore loser says.”

He growls, “I’ll show you something sore.”


The siblings turn their heads as one to Steve, barking out, “What?”

He offers them a mock pout and points to something with his foot. If Steve moves either of his arms, the whole pile will come tumbling down.

“I dropped the froggy…”

Sure enough, one of the few frog plushies on the boardwalk that doesn’t look creepy and drugged lies on its back just out of Steve’s reach. Max’s gaze snaps back to Billy. She has surprise on her side, shoves both hands to his broad shoulders. He sputters and actually stumbles back a step. It’s enough for Max to dart forward, swoop the frog up, and then nestle it amongst Steve’s other prizes. To think it’d started with a goofy dog she’d won, handed off to him when he cooed over it being cute. She should have known it would set off her and Billy’s competitive nature. Even now, if Max hadn’t been the first to shove Billy, he would have done something to get to the toy first. His glare is hot on the back of her head as Max returns Steve’s sweet smile.

“What do you wanna do next, Stevie?”

Billy appears beside her, shoves a tie-dye cow plushie against her chest, and then takes off with Steve. His hand is low and possessive on Steve’s lower back.

“Steve said he wanted to go on the Ferris Wheel,” Billy calls over his shoulder. “Only seats two though. You can wait with the toys.”

Max grits her teeth, murmurs under her breath, “Sneaky prick,” and gives chase.

“That’s fine,” she says sweetly while accepting Steve’s burden one plush at a time. When Steve steps in line, Max blocks Billy’s path and smirks up at him. “After you’re done with your little kiddy ride, I’m taking him through the Tunnel of Love.” Max cocks her head just so, smug smile on her face even as Steve calls Billy’s name. “Hope you have fun. I know I will.”

Max arches onto her toes, mindful of the balance of plushies in her arms, and pecks an obnoxious kiss to Billy’s cheek.

“Bitch,” he grumbles as he walks away, rubbing the back of his hand over his cheek.

“Asshole,” Max calls at his broad back with all the affection she feels. “Remember Steve is afraid of heights.”

Max cackles from the queue when Steve’s yelp echoes through the air when they stop at the wheel’s apex.

Chapter Text

“We would have won if hay face’s costume didn’t make such a mess.”

Steve’s pacing screeches to a halt. Whirling around, he jabs a finger in Billy’s chest. It disappears amongst the honey, faux fur of his costume. With every shift of Steve’s body, as Billy points out, some straw detaches itself from him. It’s not like it’s been a comfortable night trailing straw behind him and poking himself when he sits!

Steve pokes Billy a few times when he taunts, “Says the furry!”

“It’s a onesie!”

“Baby’s first fursuit!”

Max shakes her head a short distance away, nursing a cigarette and clutching a stuffed dog toy to her chest. Maybe Billy is right. Maybe they would have won best group costume if not for Steve’s straw. The judges had seemed to like Billy’s flare as the Cowardly Lion. And maybe Max’s rendition of Dorothy is more of the sexy-Dorothy kind… As the boys bicker, Max sighs on her exhale and twists her head around to find Jane. Her Tin-Man has wandered away, not quite into the darkness. Smile twitching on her lips, Max snuffs out her cigarette under her shoe before joining Jane’s wandering, aimless shuffling. When Max joins her and looks down, she finds Jane trying to nudge some sort of bug into the grass beside them, out of the way of cars and people.

“Sorry we didn’t win,” Max laments, shivering as the October chill blankets her. Her costume is the only one without long sleeves. Waiting for this Uber is a bitch. “Your body paint still looks great even though it was so hot in there.”

Jane looks up in the dark, silvery face almost glowing. She turns shy like she does when they’re alone, looks away after flashing Max a smile. Jane isn’t really upset; she knows that. She’d glued herself to Max’s side the moment they left home and watched Steve and Billy squabble like a married couple the whole night. Maybe they lost because of something else. Star Wars is still stupid popular. Max isn’t surprised The Force Awakens group won. Still, she thinks their cobbled-together costumes are more in the spirit of the competition. Whatever. She won’t get bitter about it, steps beside Jane and holds her hand. The silver body paint is almost tacky between them when Max laces their fingers together. 

“You want any help getting all this off when we get home?” Max asks with a grin in her voice, her shoulder nudging Jane’s.

Quiet falls behind them, and Max glances to the boys ogling them. With no one around to see it, Max reaches behind her and flips up the back of her dress. She’s wearing panties, but they leave little to the imagination.

Just as Jane murmurs, “Yes,” in Max’s ear, Billy curses with his phone held high in the air, “Where the fuck is this Uber?!”

Max snorts, fire set under the boys with that little peek, and wraps both arms around one of Jane’s.

“Help keep me warm, Tin-Man? It’s cold out here.”

It’s safe to bow her head and peck a kiss to Jane’s smile. Her grey lipstick smudges red a little under Max’s kiss. It looks good, will look better when they scrub Jane down. Then Max can smear red-stained kisses anywhere she wants over Jane’s pale body. Before Steve or Billy breaks down the bathroom door to join the fun.

Chapter Text

The tractor towing them along isn’t meant to go fast. Billy grumbles about how stupid this is, how this is a waste of time. How the hay he’s sitting on won’t stop poking him in the ass. Max snorts where she and El are tucked into each other, recalling all the times Billy has gotten stuck behind a tractor in Hawkins and couldn’t get past. It could be worse. The wind could blow the diesel exhaust back onto them. Instead, it blows with them and carries the exhaust away. That doesn’t help El shivering hard as she tries to burrow into Max’s side. When Max curls an arm around the smaller girl, she finds just a sweater covering her.

“El! Where’s your jacket?”

El maybe manages a shrug. It blends in with her shivering. So she lifts an arm and points back the way they’d come—Billy’s clunker car parked in a dirt lot.

“You left it in the car? Why?”

Max wiggles out of her jacket even as she says this. They won’t fit in it together. But at least draped across their backs, maybe El won’t shiver so hard. Max quickly casts her jacket like a net over them and then scoops El close with her hand cupping the girls’ waist. El cuddles right up and holds Max with both arms.  

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “It was hot in the car, so I took it off. I didn’t get cold until now…”

They’d bought pumpkins near sundown and then poked around a goofy haunted house once night fell. Of course El has been fine until now, tugged along at like five miles an hour behind the tractor. It’s the wind, Max knows. She would almost think El has done this on purpose to get away with cuddling in public. No one will suspect two girls shivering for warmth as anything but friendly. Max won’t reject such a treat, hums as she nuzzles El’s hair, frigid silk on her lips. Without her jacket zipped up around her, though, the cold creeps in. El’s shivers are contagious.

Across the way, arms braced behind him, Billy scoffs. Max glances at him quickly enough to watch him shake his head, stand up despite them moving, and then whip his jacket off. 

“Scoot over,” he grumbles with a nudge to Max’s shoulder.

He copies Max when covering himself and her with his jacket. Heavier than hers, stinking of cigarettes and the garage he works at. Max makes a face at the smell even though it’s very much her lover. Still, cigarette smoke stinks. She almost rejects Billy’s offer until he sits down heavy beside her and warms her up immediately. He’s a furnace even with the front of his shirt open like always. El cuddles harder into Max’s side, sweet noise curling in her throat as she sighs. She ought to be the one squished between them, skin and bone bird girl. Max will switch with El if she can pry Billy’s hand off her waist before the hayride is over. He leans on her too, although not like El. No one knows them; no one turns a curious eye on them. So Max relaxes in the warm grips of her lovers and relishes the cold night not quite stinging on her cheeks.

Chapter Text

It’s almost too hot to sit anywhere but under the pavilion, soaking up the shade. Who picks to have a fucking family reunion in August? Billy tags along under the threat of violence, plays nice with wrinkled aunts and uncles. He should be lucky Neil is too busy to keep a bead on him. It makes sitting here look natural. Like he’s just enjoying the weather and the day. Max is the only person who makes this familial obligation worth it.

Sat a table away from him, Max hums and nods to one of the Hargrove women complaining about some bullshit. Billy isn’t tuned into that. No, he’s more interested in the quick glances Max flashes him. Are you watching? Below the table, her free hand bunches up the bottom of the skirt she wears. Normally she wouldn’t be caught dead in one. Maybe a dress if Susan pleads with her. Even Neil had remarked on Max walking out of the house in that getup. He’ll never know she’s wearing it for Billy, that under the knee-length pleats she’s not wearing underwear. She even shaved a little as a treat, leaving only a dusting of hair on her mound. Billy knew about the skirt and underwear. He didn’t know about the shaved part, perks up slightly at the peek of smooth skin.

Max holds up the front of her skirt for a breath longer before letting it drop. Just a teaser. Just enough to get Billy interested instead of trying to melt into the picnic table. His intense eyes are all on Max when she shuffles her feet wider apart under the table. When Billy cocks an eyebrow up at her, show me something good, she props a foot up on a support bar. Boyish and crude in her posture, Max’s raised leg lifts her skirt high enough to give Billy a decent show. She squirms sitting on her tailbone like this, glancing around to see if anyone else notices. Lucky for them the Hargrove family isn’t blessed—cursed—with small children running around. No one short enough to run by and catch them in the act. So Billy leans forward to rest his elbows on the table and supports his head in his hands. He jerks his head in a quick nod, go on, and then waits for whatever Max will do next.

It’s the risk that thrills them. They already fool around under Neil’s nose. It would only take one accident, one time being too loud, one time not checking to make sure Neil is gone to have it all come crashing down. Someone could catch Max slipping her free hand back beneath the table to stroke her inner thigh. Someone could catch her dainty fingers petting bare skin, pulling herself open to let Billy see everything. That thrill is what drives Max to squirm a little, shiny wetness surely building up. Billy isn’t close enough to see it despite how he cranes forward on his elbows. Max bites the corner of her mouth as she stares at Billy, shivers despite the heat when her middle finger swipes her clit a few times. It takes everything in Billy to not lick his lips.

Max’s next shiver draws her shoulders up, and she wiggles on her ass to adjust her position. To get more comfortable? To expose herself more? Billy can’t be sure, has to resist the urge to shuffle around just like her. She’s not the only one feeling the need. Billy is thankful for the picnic table covering his lap so the tent in his jeans doesn’t give him away. He still finds himself shuffling his feet wider apart just like Max had at the start. To relieve pressure. It will be a sticky, uncomfortable ride home if he comes in his shorts like a teenager. Max doesn’t make it easy for him, eyes fluttering a little when she dares to slide her finger back down and play in the mess she makes of herself. Soft and slow so no one will pick up the wet sound of her slipping the tip of her finger in and out of herself. When Max meets Billy’s stare and has to bite herself to not make a noise, he can’t take it anymore.

“Can I borrow her?”

Their aunts startle at Billy’s presence, stuttering over themselves mid-conversation as Billy loops a hand around Max’s upper arm. He jerks her from the picnic table with a tight smile for his aunts. No matter their comments on his rudeness, Billy drags Max away without another word. Walking with an erection isn’t easy. Searching frantically for some place to sneak off too is even harder when Max whimpers his name.

“I’m working on it,” he growls. 

This can’t wait until tonight when one of them sneaks into the other’s bed. No, he wants her hard and fast right now, won’t want to screw around tonight and worry about keeping quiet. Fucking in a public restroom isn’t glamorous or romantic. The cinderblock wall isn’t too dirty, though, so Billy shoves Max into the stall, slaps the lock closed, and then is upon her in barely a breath. Max squeals against his mouth when Billy grabs her by the jaw. She has no choice but to shuffle back on the concrete floor until Billy’s bulk squashes her. Not for long. His hands dent Max’s thighs when he hauls her up the wall and then guides her legs to wrap around him. If someone walks in, they’ll see his shoes. Hopefully Neil won’t. He may recognize Billy’s shoes under the wall, hopefully wouldn’t recognize who moans against his mouth while Max snaps her hips into him. Billy can explain it all away, can’t care about it right now as his fingers nearly tangle to undo his belt and zip. Just enough to get his dick out and stroke it a few times.

Arms looped around his neck and their kisses messy, Max slurs, “Hurry,” before she dives into him again.

Pinned between him and the wall, Max can only jolt and squeak when Billy pushes into her. Maybe he’s too rough, too quick to start when his hips piston away. But no objection or fight comes his way. Max’s hands only fist tighter in his hair as she holds on, Billy’s hips shifting her body up and down the wall in tiny jerks. When they break apart to pant in each other’s faces, Max’s teeth sink into her lip to bottle her nosies. Each fluttering whimper that escapes bounces off the walls in here, turning her loud despite her restraint. Billy is no help, grinds himself into Max instead of wiggling a hand down to get her off. Max’s legs hooked around him squeeze as she rubs back, chasing her pleasure with him.

“Close,” Billy pants. Hands on Max’s waist, he lifts her from the wall only to slam her right back down. Her moan twinkles in his ear as he picks up speed. “So hot watching you play with yourself.”

Distantly, Billy laments he won’t be able to come in her. Too messy, too much clean up. Plus Max would probably get on his case about it. He should be happy she doesn’t make him wear a condom, according to her. So Billy cannot lose himself to the velvety rush of her like he usually does. Max gives little twitches around him, grinding herself harder into him, before she lets out a fluttery gasp and wail as she starts to come. Billy slams home, holds himself there groaning and about to bust too with Max clenching around him. Scowl twisting the pleasure on his face, Billy leans all his weight on Max to keep her up as he slips out. He barely gets a hand around himself, barely squeezes, before he spatters the wall under Max. Now it’s plenty dirty, and Billy hums where he tucks his face to the sweat and loose hair of Max’s neck.

A tug on a curl is what coaxes Billy up. He sighs as he backs away from the wall with Max still clinging to him. His back almost hits the stall door when he finally squeezes her waist, get down. He still has to stand there and hold Max for a moment or two while her legs shake. The bathroom is stuffy without a breeze, damp despite the heat in here. They’ll need to grab some paper towels—hopefully there’s some here—to pat themselves dry in a few places. Billy snorts when Max leans back and sits on the toilet. She sticks her tongue out at him while getting to the clean up, cheeks choosing now of all times to turn pink, embarrassed. It’s a tight squeeze with them in here. Max scoffs and makes a face as Billy wipes himself off in front of her with a wad of toilet paper.

“You’re such an animal,” she huffs.

“Says the girl who just got fucked in a public bathroom.”

She flushes, fires back over the rush of water, “Says the guy who dragged me into the bathroom and couldn’t wait until later.”

Billy snatches Max by her shoulders and hauls her against his chest. She startles like he wants, attitude curdling a little, but he sweetens her right back up with hungry kisses. When they separate, Max’s lips look sore and she breathes hard like they’re fucking again.

Looking down his nose at her, Billy purrs, “You say that like you’re gonna sleep in your bed tonight. When we both know where you’ll end up.”

Max rolls her eyes next, but doesn’t rebuke him. She only shoves half-heartedly at Billy’s shoulder and mumbles, “Move, it’s hot in here. Someone’s gonna notice we left.”

Chapter Text

The first time she’d caught Max and James digging through her drawers, trying on silky panties, Billie teased them about it. Bored, horny twinks looking for the next thing to spice up their lives. After Billie’s ruthless teasing, their curiosity lingered. Doing laundry, the only way to tell who owned which lacy pair of panties was to check the size. Most of the time when her boys feel adventurous, Billie humors them. They’re young, dumb, always ready to come. Why not indulge them a little? This thing with panties—and now stockings and garters—isn’t some flight of fancy. When Billie corners either of them in the kitchen or in the bedrooms, her groping hands always find panties. Never briefs or even boxers. It’s become a normal thing instead of just a sex thing. Not that she minds. They’re her eye candy, and they know it.

The front door of the apartment opens and closes with quiet giggles from the boys. They have to pass her spread out on the couch in a tank top and sweatpants. Her bored stare follows Max and James as they skitter like animals for the bedroom, trying to hide dainty shopping bags. Flirty glances bounce right off Billie until the last moment when James shuts their bedroom door behind him. Billie mutes the TV to strain her ears, snooping on whatever they’re getting up to. She hums, amused, when one of the boys yelps. Maybe James. Muffled whining from Max next—his voice always gets nasally when he’s being a brat. A dull ringing fills Billie’s ears when the apartment goes quiet, still behind the boys’ bedroom door. The lock in the knob pops when it twists, door opening to reveal them… also in t-shirts and sweatpants.

Shapely eyebrow cocked high, Billie hums as she watches their approach. Max leads the charge, meets Billie’s curious stare with his eyes already hooded. Billie rises from her sprawl to sit properly just as Max comes to a stop at her knees. She tosses a look up at him—well? Get on with it—before Max helps himself to her lap. He’s a comfortable weight so long as he minds those sharp knees of his. Billie’s hands find his little waist under his shirt and squeeze, tugging him closer like she’ll kiss him. James squirming at their open bedroom door catches Billie’s heated stare just over Max’s shoulder. James startles on his feet, squirms some more, and then tries to hobble across the room. Billie’s snort tears out of her before she can stop it.

“Still not used to walking around with a plug, huh?”

Max whips his head around, shoulder-length hair almost brushing Billie’s jaw. Now with all the focus on him, James’ pretty face lights up pink and hot. Dainty hands flinch up like they’ll cover his face, but he knows Billie’s ribbing will just continue if he does that. Instead, James’ fingers tangle with the hem of his t-shirt—one of Billie’s actually, same as Max, the little thieves—and he chews on his bottom lip. No matter the pleading look on James’ face, Max is no help to him. Max shakes his head a little as he watches from Billie’s lap. The redhead sighs, shifts back around, and then gets comfortable with his head on Billie’s shoulder.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he grumbles.

Billie’s left hand slips from Max’s waist, curls behind his back, and gropes between his cheeks over his clothes. Sure enough, despite Max gasping and wiggling in her lap, Billie’s fingers nudge the flared base of a plug. One of the bigger ones, if Max’s fluttery moan as she presses again and again on the flat base means anything. Billie keeps it up, lets Max hide his face in her neck and rut against her stomach. Like the needy, nasty boy he is. Billie smirks at James still trembling just outside the bedroom door. He may be shy and watch them through brown curls falling in his eyes, but his sweatpants hide nothing. He’s probably been hard since Max shoved him on their bed to fit whatever plug sits snugly in him. Deep, brown eyes focus on the gentle rocking of Billie’s fingers teasing Max. He wants that too, screams it with the way his whole body shivers and how he can’t look away. Billie gives up nudging the plug in Max to curl a finger towards them.

“C’mere, baby doll, lemme look at you.”

James nearly spills himself to the floor when he leaps to obey. He still has to hobble across the room to join them on the couch. Billie tugs Max from his throne, forcing him to straddle just her left thigh instead. The other is for James, and Billie curls her arm around his even thinner frame to pull him close. He’s chilly despite his clothes, and she spends a moment nuzzling him and kissing his face until he warms up. Little hands paw at her on the left, Max, so she pinches his hip. Wait your turn. Max huffs and goes back to resting his head on her shoulder, rubs himself on her thigh occasionally. Out the corner of her eye, Billie watches a grin wiggle on Max’s lips. James is too engrossed in returning Billie’s chaste kisses to pay any attention to the hand Max slips behind him. Billie leans her head away to soak up the confused pout James gives her just before he jolts on her thigh and moans.

“Max,” James whimpers, reaching out a hand for his thin shoulder. “No don’t, I’ll…”

“Don’t come,” Max huffs. He takes his hand back, clearly toying with the plug in James like Billie had done to him. “You’ll ruin the other surprise.”

Before James can wilt under the subtle guilt in Max’s voice, Billie asks, “What ‘other’ surprise?”

James shuffles on her thigh, explains while watching her through his fringe, “We went to the mall today.”


Arm still curled around James, Billie takes her turn while reaching down and fondling his ass. She often teases him about how tiny he is all around, ass included. He startles in her hand and gives her a pretty whine. Brown curls make the perfect shield when James turns shy and huddles against Billie’s shoulder. He won’t ask her to stop like he had with Max. If Billie wants him to come, then he will. It’s not time for that yet. The boys still haven’t explained what the ‘other’ surprise is.

“Did you find something good? Don’t think I didn’t see you two sneak something in here, trying to be cute about it.”

James shudders hard when Billie stops toying with him. Max reaches between them to pet hair out of his pretty face. So they can see the pink stained across his cheeks.

“We saw something in one of the stores and thought of you,” Max confesses vaguely, gives a wiggle when Billie hums. “Wanna see?”

They have to climb back off the couch once Billie gives them permission. Billie does them the favor of scooting the coffee table back to give them room. The boys’ sweatpants drop almost in perfect sync to pool around their ankles. By now, Billie is used to seeing them spill out of panties too small for them, not designed with their hardware in mind. The delicate, red lace adorning them doesn’t have that problem. She’s used to seeing them in more modest offerings like cotton, everyday sort of panties she wears. This is something special. With a tilt of her head and a pleased noise, Billie takes in the silhouette of their cocks, hair trimmed short and almost invisible through the material. Especially on Max. A slick grin cracks Billie’s face as she reaches for them at the same time, cupping between their legs and squeezing. They whimper at the same time, too, leaning into her caress.

Billie’s hands continue fondling them when she purrs, “My favorite color doesn’t look half bad on my pretty boys.”

James is the first to stumble, slaps his hands out to catch himself against Billie’s shoulder. He makes no move to push her hand away or stop the mean flicks of her thumb over his head. He’s already made a wet spot in the material, and James only oozes more as Billie plays with him.

Little snaps of James’ hips accompany his whimpered, “Billie…”

“Didn’t wanna make a mess before you showed me,” she teases. Max is holding it together better, is used to her leading them on like this. Her pleasure comes first. “You know what happens if you come without permission.”

They get her hairbrush or one of her belts. Not that it’s much of a punishment when just mentioning the act has them groaning and twitching in her hands. She releases them only so that the boys can shed their shirts, step out of their pants, and then climb back into her lap. Ugly fingers twist in their hair as Billie hauls the boys to her, a warning thundercloud on her brow.

“You two didn’t get up to anything in another dressing room, did you?” She eyes each boy, starting with Max, to James, and then back to Max. She knows which one of them is the ringleader. The mastermind of their schemes. So she shakes Max by his hair a little. “Answer me.”

“We didn’t do anything,” Max grumbles with a roll of his eyes. A harder yank on his hair works out that sass, and he trembles in her lap like he should. “We didn’t, Billie, I promise.”

“You better not be lying.”

“We’re not,” James breathes, eyes fluttering as he tries to meet Billie’s skeptical stare. “We wanted to show you, so we came home right away.”

James never lies. Not after the first time. So Billie leans his way to sweep him up in a kiss first, rewarding his honesty. Max is a jealous creature, though, and hops on Billie’s thigh when their kiss goes on too long for his liking. He wants a turn, too. James is breathless and loopy when Billie lets him go. Her hand in his hair turns gentle, cradling him, while all that meanness diverts to Max instead. She wrestles Max’s head down to make it harder for him to rub himself on her while she ravishes him. When James’ little hands stir to life and drift low across her stomach, asking to touch her, Billie rips Max away from her to watch him pant. His lips are red and bitten, already swollen. She thinks maybe the boys had gotten a little frisky together, but she won’t punish them. They can’t help being horny and hot for each other. For her. They’re just dumb boys.

“I think we need a change of scenery, some space to spread out,” she murmurs to them. She only offers a grin and wink, a rumbling, “Hold on,” before she does just that.

Max and James are nothing in her arms when Billie lifts them off the couch. Still, despite knowing her strength, they squeal and cling to her with pale limbs. TV still muted, Billie’s cackle echoes through the apartment as she marches them into her bedroom. Her bed is bigger, meant for all three of them when they want to sleep together. It makes for a decent landing spot when she shoves the boys out of her arms. They blink up at her, bodies huddled together as they watch, waiting for whatever she’ll do to them. Billie conjures some ideas as she reaches for the bedroom door and smacks it shut. Max and James startling on her bed and melting under her stare are just appetizers. She’ll give it to them good, make messes out of them and have them crawling back for more.

Chapter Text

Max’s freckled face is almost the same color as his hair while Billie watches him. The hardwood floor must be murder on his knees as he bounces up and down. He makes no complaint, or at least not one Billie acknowledges from her kingly sprawl at the foot of their bed. She only approaches him when Max slows his careful rhythm on the dildo stuck to the floor. Each breath comes heavier and heavier as time goes on. He’s stopped pleading with words, just angles his face up when Billie pets the flush in his cheeks. They’d be red even without her here—lube makes a mess out of Max, every shift on the thick silicone torture to his ears. When Billie bends to a knee in front of him, Max’s tired body gives feeble, bratty hops. A tiny whine, please, squeaks out of him.

Right hand cradling Max’s steaming face, Billie hums as she draws the other down his body. Nipples swollen and sore, Billie drums her fingers over them rather than twisting them. Max arches into her touch as best he can, groans with his eyes fluttering as he sinks all the way down on the dildo. He can be still while she teases him. Until Billie snaps at him to keep going, that is. He needs a moment to breathe and stop his head from spinning around. She knows that and so wraps her left hand around his pitiful cock and starts to stroke. It’s soft after no attention, hardens so eagerly with just a few squeezes. Max’s hips jerk under her touch. Either to crane overly sensitive flesh away or maybe to drive his cock faster through the lazy grip fondling him. When he’s too greedy, too rambunctious and about to bust in Billie’s hand, she lets him go.

“No!” Max wails, pawing at Billie immediately. 

She smacks his hands like a naughty child, chides, “It’s not your turn yet, baby.”

Max’s shoulders slump. Chin in his chest, he whimpers something that sounds like her name. On his trembling thighs, Max’s hands ball up so tightly that his knuckles bleach. Billie keeps perfectly still as she watches him, waiting for what Max will do next. His frustration shivers over his skin like static electricity on an old TV. He cries out for release, for her touch, anything. She bites back a grin as one of Max’s hands relaxes and dares to reach for his cock. Billie waits to snatch his hair in her fingers and wrench his head up just as he’s about to touch himself. Hauling Max forward, almost sliding him right off the dildo, Billie sucks her teeth in his face. She makes a face at him, puckering her lips with a mock pout. Disappointed.

“I know you didn’t just try to touch what’s mine.”

Max jolts in her grip when Billie wraps her hand around him again. He melts and whimpers, tries to rock his hips into her hand. She allows it while guiding him back down until he’s full again. The moment her hand slides away, hazy eyes flutter open, about to overflow.

“Wanna come?”

Max nods despite Billie’s hand in his hair. Like he no longer feels the pain, just understands her words and nods obediently. He’s almost there, still fighting her a little too much for her liking.

Billie throws Max’s head away from her, rises slowly back to her full height, and then reclaims her spot on their bed. When their eyes meet through a lock of Max’s hair in his face, Billie grins in the heat of his glare. No, not yet. He hasn’t earned it yet.

“Keep going,” she purrs. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Chapter Text

Startling awake, breath fogging in front of her face, Jane isn’t sure what’s awoken her. The house on Cherry Lane is dark, delicate in its silence. A shiver spears through her, bare skin tightening over bones. Ah, Max is hogging the blanket. Jane sits up for a moment, one arm hugging herself as the other pries the edge of the blanket out from under Max. Her shivers continue with every pale inch of her exposed to the night air. It had been plenty warm earlier when Max crawled up from her altar between Jane’s legs and flopped on top of her. Tugging the edge of the blanket free at last, Jane casts a glance out the window behind her. The side yard of Max’s house is crisp with frost. It’s still fall, but the temperature drops at night. Her shivers and teeth chattering still for a moment as she remembers a cold deeper than this. Inescapable during her lonely months outside so long ago.

Rolling over, Max makes a noise in her throat and then mumbles, “El? You okay?”

Already one of Max’s hands wiggles from beneath the blanket to reach for her. Jane turns from the window, slips back down to her side, and then holds Max’s palm to her cheek. Max grumbles under her breath and casts the blanket over Jane, swallowing her in warmth.

“Sorry, baby,” Max sighs in her hair. Jane makes no objection where she cuddles under the safety of Max’s jaw, tucked to her bare chest. “I didn’t mean to steal the blanket.”

“It’s fine,” she whispers back. She has Max warm and alive by her side. She’ll never be alone amongst the snow again. Jane peppers Max’s collarbones with kisses before adding, “Go back to sleep.”

She thinks she hears Max slur a sweet nothing, maybe ‘love’ squirming out of her mouth. It will take some time for Jane to fall back asleep. She needs Max’s slow, heavy breathing to spirit her away. In the dark with Max slumbering beside her, Jane presses one last kiss to her throat, love smeared across her skin, and waits for sleep to come again.

Chapter Text

Back sore from stooping over so long at the shop today, Billy takes deep satisfaction in slamming his front door shut. A year ago, he couldn’t work out some of this frustration like that living with Neil. It’s his front door, so he can do whatever he wants with it. Two pairs of shoes much too small to be his clutter the entryway. Grinding his teeth for the hundredth time today, Billy forces himself to suck a breath through his grimace. Max and Jane are here. He curses himself for giving Max a key, telling her to come over whenever she needed to. His sympathetic heart at the time comes back to bite him now. He doesn’t want company. Certainly not Max and her little girlfriend. Billy rubs a greasy hand over his face, remembering the last conversation between him and his sister that exploded in this very living room.

‘Billy, what the fuck? What are you doing?!’

‘You said I could!’

‘I’m drunk, I thought you were joking. Why the hell would I kiss my brother?!’

Can’t put the genie back in the bottle, damage already done. Billy waves away spitting, angry words and focuses on getting his shoes off, getting ready for a shower. Sighing, Billy wanders over to the couch and drops his weight into it. The springs groan, sympathizing with his sore body. He has free access to the garage and equipment for personal projects so long as he pays for parts. The Camaro will never be what it was, but he refuses to give up on it. It will drive again one day. Tugging at the laces on his work boots, Billy is thankful his apartment is quiet even with the girls here. They must be asleep in his bedroom. He needs a shower, will either shake them awake when he’s done or just crash on the couch. He isn’t keen on speaking to Max after their last encounter. Shame from her disgust and rejection rises like a plume of lava under his cheeks even now. Billy scrubs his face hard once, he can do this, and then rises to sneak into his own bedroom for clean clothes. 

Sure enough, the girls are a tangled pile of naked limbs amongst his sheets. Their clothes hastily tossed away join the mess on the floor. A plastic ring from a six pack lies amongst their clothes, discarded. Billy counts at least four empties on his nightstand. The faint stink of beer and greasy fast food linger. Growl threatening to turn into a scream, Billy snatches clean clothes from his dresser. Fists tight at his sides, he stands there in the near-darkness to ogle them for a moment. Pale bodies and soft hair, Max spooned up behind Jane with a hand low on her belly. The back of Billy’s neck flushes hot. Not even out of pleasure but to hold back some ugly, twisted thing in him that wants to scream and punch and kick. To hurt someone, but that anger hasn’t picked a victim. Eventually, nostrils flared and resilience razor thin, Billy trudges from the room and locks the bathroom door behind him.

Hands and body on autopilot, Billy stares into the middleground of the shower while he washes. It’s either wash robotically with his mind blank or ruminate on the charged energy left over from his confrontation with Max. He’s avoided his couch and living room, if he’s being honest. Sighing with drenched hair in his face, he tries not to recall Max startling against him, shoving him back as she crawled away from him. She hit the arm of the couch, nowhere to go, before she screamed at him. The flush of pink in her cheeks from the whiskey drained to white like she’d seen a ghost. Lying under her shock and horror was genuine fear. He hadn’t seen that on her face since she was in middle school and he was her tormentor. In that moment, did she really think he would hurt her? Would do something unspeakable to her?

Billy’s throat winds up tight like a vice just as it had that night. He molds the hurt into a familiar shape: anger. It’s easier to cut himself on its jagged edges than palm the scalding heat of his heartache. It was foolish of him to kiss Max, something that should have stayed a secret like everything else in his life. She sees him as her brother, grew up with him, has a girlfriend. To her, there are zero reasons to indulge him. He just wishes that weren’t the case, that he didn’t have to see Max around Hawkins with Jane in tow, holding hands and engrossed in their love. He hates it, would pluck its gossamer wings like a mean, little boy with a butterfly if he could. But he doesn’t want to hurt Max.

Steam rolling out of the bathroom and his skin when he emerges, Billy makes a beeline for the kitchen. His sweatpants stick to him a little, and the skin of his chest tightens in the cooler air. It irritates the scars on his chest, and he rubs a hand over them while opening the fridge. Max knows better than to drink anything but the beers in his fridge. So she’s left the cursed bottle of whiskey he hasn’t touched since that night. Although the sight of the bottle churns his stomach, Billy swipes it anyway and shuffles to the couch. Like an afterimage of that terrible night, Billy swallows mouthfuls straight from the bottle while the TV glows in his face. Only Max isn’t on the couch with him, pawing at him and practically crawling into his lap when he stopped sharing. It’s when he’d made the foolish decision to taunt Max, teasing that she could have another sip for a kiss. When she snorted and drawled something sassy, he took it as permission. The rest is a rotten, horrid memory he can’t forget. 

Paid infomercials for snake oil play by the time Billy stops drinking. All thoughts of kicking the girls out at this late hour have no hope of connecting in his murky brain. Billy hardly convinces himself to leave the nearly-empty bottle on the coffee table, let alone that. He doesn’t want that confrontation, knows he’d explode and make a scene. Relaxing into the couch once more, TV murmuring lowly, Billy throws an arm over his eyes. He’ll fall asleep out here, will hopefully blink awake to sunshine, a hangover, and the girls long gone, enjoying their Saturday off school. Prom is coming up. Max will probably bother him to drive her and Jane to the nearest mall so they can buy dresses. If Max asks her mother to drive them, Susan will just want to take the opportunity to turn it into a mother-daughter thing. If there’s one thing Max hates it’s clinginess. Billy huffs under the comforting weight of his arm and understands that scorn perhaps better than anyone. When Billy’s arm plops back to his lap, pity party over, he finds Jane standing naked just outside his bedroom door.

Billy’s heart lurches from the shock of her appearing there. Otherwise, his sluggish body doesn’t even twitch. Who knows how long Jane has been standing here, watching him. They stare at each other, wild animals in human disguises going bump in the night. Jane sways on her feet, probably still drunk, and then takes a stumbling step forward.

“Hi,” she says with her raspy, reed-thin voice. 

The glow from the TV splashes her pale body in flickering shadows. Billy has always known she’s weird, something not quite right with her. He never got the whole story. Jane stands there without shame or awareness of her nudity like it’s natural, Eve timeless in the Garden of Eden. He’s never borne her innocence any malice but now cannot stand the sight of her. Lovebites stain her collarbones and little breasts like oil dripped on pristine concrete. They’ve come from one mouth, one slumbering temptation tucked away in his bedsheets. Why Jane has chosen now to leave Max and appear to him, Billy has no clue. He’d rather she vanish just as quickly, though.

“Go back to bed,” he grumbles. 

Instead, something bids her to step forward. Jane totters on thin legs and has to catch herself when she tips forward towards the couch. Brown locks not nearly as curly as his fall in Jane’s eyes when she bows her head. Billy leans away, wondering if he’s about to see the beer she’d drunk make a comeback. Jane just hums as she sways, sacrifices a hand from the back of the couch to shove hair out of her face. When she picks her head up to look at him, Billy finds her more loopy than he feels. At least he has that. She blinks almost out of sync, turns her head like it takes effort, and then spies the empty whisky bottle on the coffee table.

“Max wouldn’t let us drink that. She said you would be mad.”

“She was right. Now go back to bed.”

By morning, Billy’s jaw will ache from grinding his teeth. Ignoring his order once more, Jane’s loose body curves around the couch. Heat rises in his face and eyes as Billy watches her dainty hand paw at the neck of the bottle, lifting it. It has a sip in it. Enough for Jane to cradle the glass bottle in both hands, tip it back, and pour the amber drops in her mouth. She coughs immediately, hands spasming around the bottle and almost dropping it. Thin arms hug the thing to her chest as Jane shivers, every inch of her fighting the buck of her diaphragm. With Max, he’d just yank the bottle out of her hands and shove her back to bed. Despite Billy’s tipsy haze, the animal side of his brain warns him not to try that with this one. Jane could break his neck with a twitch of hers. So instead he glares at deep, brown eyes that blink at him when Jane catches her breath.

Licking her lips, Janes admits quietly, “Max told me what happened.”

Stomach sinking like a stone, Billy’s fingertips go cold with adrenaline. Of course Max told her little girlfriend what happened. They’d probably talked about it while downing cheap beers and pawing at each other in his bed. Billy doesn’t think for one second they didn’t fuck while he was at work. They won’t get caught here. Max always gets her way, always gets what she wants. Billy can’t help the red that creeps into his vision as Jane sways on her feet like she’s dancing, still holding the now-empty whiskey bottle.

“Oh yea?” he grinds out, voice deathly low.

Jane nods, adds, “She didn’t understand why you wanted to kiss her.” A blink, brown eyes still murky from booze. “She didn’t want you to kiss her.”

“Anybody ever tell you to mind your own fucking business?”

Jane startles with Billy’s harsh hiss, hands flailing to not drop the glass bottle. Billy finally cranes forward on the couch and rips it out of her hands. Jane wobbles with him so close only to catch herself on his shoulders. Her hands are ice on that broad shelf, burn him worse than a fire ever could. The bottle thunks on the floor when Billy sets it down, carpet muffling it. If Max wakes up and stumbles out here, sees Jane’s hands on him, he knows she’ll take it the wrong way. Even if he wouldn’t mind grabbing the little fawn by her hair and hurting her. Just a little. That thing years ago had wanted the same, only more and worse. Even now Billy flinches away when Jane’s arms slip around his neck. Their bare chests brush against each other, and Billy’s warmth bleeds into her.

“Warm,” Jane mumbles against his temples, lips brushing clean skin.

Billy’s hands find her narrow waist without meaning to. Again, he knows he shouldn’t touch Jane at all. He is rooted to his spot on the couch, fighting the violence in his memories as Jane huddles closer. Standing between his spread knees isn’t enough. The living room is too cool on her bare skin, he too warm to ignore. Billy flinches only once as Jane helps herself to his lap, straddling his thighs and tucking her face to his neck. The residual hatred, the fresh anger, and jealousy combine into a poisonous brew that sloshes in his stomach when Jane rubs on him a little. Squirms a little in his lap like she means it.

Calm like he’s not himself, Billy asks, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles, shivering under his hands. “You’re warm.”

Billy doesn’t take in the flashing images on the TV. It takes everything not to sink into the couch and end up somewhere else. Somewhere that smells like earth and blood and rotting things. Metallic. It takes everything to not hear a voice that’s his and yet not encouraging him to act on the violence shivering just between their skin. Jane hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s not the reason Max rejects him, recoiled from him that night. He can’t help but hate her just a little. Why her? Why not him? Why does the paper-thin relation between them weigh Max down like concrete galoshes, dragging her away from him and into the depths? 

Jane rubbing herself harder against his stomach, practically humping him, rips Billy out of such murky thoughts. He finally tunes into her light panting, the soft grunts she makes. It must be what she sounds like when Max fucks her. It’s another arrow to his heart, more gasoline on the fire. Sucking his next breath through his teeth, Billy’s hands turn harsh at Jane’s waist. He can’t stop himself, feels like a puppet all over again. Only this time he doesn’t mind if he hurts someone. If Jane wants to totter out here naked and rub on him with Max in the next room, that’s fine. He’ll give her a ride.

Jane’s tiny gasp when Billy hauls her out of his lap only to slam her into the couch tickles his ears. He eats her next whine, bites her lip when nails scratch down his chest. His scars ache even more, so Billy smashes all his weight on top of Jane to stop her struggling. If she really wants to get away, she’ll throw him across the room like she did at the pool. Or in that rinky cabin in the woods. She’ll throw him through another brick wall, and maybe this time it’ll kill him. Under his biting kisses, Jane wiggles and whines against his mouth. Now, she’ll do it now, she’ll gather that fantastic power under her skin and shove him away without ever touching him.

When Billy rips his mouth away, ready to collide with a wall, Jane asks, “Are you going to fuck me?”

The question is like a slap in the face, and Billy can only blurt out, “What?”

Jane arches under him as best she can with all that bulk crushing her. But she knows just how to move, rocks her body against his and finds him half hard after their brief struggle. Billy bears more weight down on her to make her stop.

“You can if you want,” Jane says without looking at him, staring straight up at the popcorn ceiling. “It’s okay.” Brown eyes shut after a breath, and Jane relaxes completely under him. No resistance, hands slipping away from him. “You can pretend.”


Billy’s stomach drops again when Jane nods, explains, “Pretend I’m Max.”

He should leave. He should climb off the couch, maybe throw a shirt on, and then drive away. Sleep in his shitty car for the night, let the girls have free reign over his apartment. This is dangerous. Not that Jane looks anything like Max. Not even close, is too skinny and bird-boned to be Max. Jane’s eyes are peacefully shut as she lies there while Billy fights with himself. He’d been eager to tear her apart a second ago. Thinking about doing the same to Max twists him up inside until he wants to sob. Hurting someone else was always easier than swallowing that bitter medicine.

Acidic tang creeping up the back of his throat, Billy grabs at Jane’s hips and grunts, “Roll over.”

He doesn’t back off to give her room to do it. There’s just enough clearance for her knobby knees to not jab him in the dick. As Jane settles on her belly on the couch, Billy shoves his sweatpants down far enough to expose himself. There’s plenty of light from the TV still playing infomercials if she wants to look at him. She doesn’t, loops her arms around her head like a halo and stays face down. That leaves Billy to be the one to grab her thighs and hike Jane onto her knees. Her back bows gracefully like she’s done this before—face down, ass up. Billy ignores that implication, gropes her ass with his right hand while his left gets busy working up an erection. He’s just awake enough, just sober enough to not push rope.

She’s probably too dry for this. Jane winces with her whole body when Billy leans into her, shoves his fingers between pink folds to guide them together. Jealousy bursts acidic in the back of Billy’s throat when Jane warms up quickly, wiggles on his fingers despite how they spear into her, uncaring if he’s hurting her. Uncaring if their skin sticks together and makes her flinch when he doesn’t stop. A terrible shudder shakes Jane when Billy’s fingers pull away shiny in the cool glow of the TV. He wipes the excess on himself, leans forward once more, and shoves himself through velvet heat.

Jane goes taut under him, trembles and squeezes around him. Grimacing to himself, his big hands just snatch Jane’s waist and haul her back onto him. She almost gets a wail out when he slams all the way in. A messy hand grabbing her jaw, slapping the pained yelp back into her mouth stops that. Jane reaches up to hold on to Billy’s wrist, almost sits up entirely. This isn’t what he wants or how he wants it. Too late to stop now, though. Lightning quick, Billy’s ugly fingers tangle in Jane’s hair to force her face into the couch. With a foot firmly planted in the carpet, he has the leverage he needs to thunder into her. If he were fucking Max, is this how he’d want it—every pale, soft inch of her trembling, body jolting forward with every smack of his hips, tiny squeaks buried in the couch.

He won’t speak, can’t find it in himself to call Jane a whore so eager to bend over for him and let him play fucked up make-believe with her. At this rate, couch springs whining rhythmically and Jane panting hard under him, he may not be able to come at all. It’s too much. She’s too much, lying here almost boneless and letting him fuck her. This isn’t how Max would do it. She’d moan and hiss at him to go faster, harder, deeper. She’d claw him into ribbons, bite him back as he curls over Jane’s tiny body and sinks his teeth into her shoulder. The couch under them just barely soaks up the sob she lets out. Through the haze and red in his eyes, Billy spies Jane’s little fingers holding on to the arm of the couch for dear life. Her knuckles are yellow under her skin.

‘This is what you wanted,’ Billy snarls in his own head. He lifts Jane higher, legs almost off the couch, to slam into her harder. It probably hurts, doesn’t exactly feel pleasant to him either. He could close his eyes, imagine Max moaning and writhing under him, grabbing onto him as leverage to fuck him back. Because she would. If he’s getting his, then so is she. Next breath hissing through his teeth, Billy shoves Jane back to the couch. He stays up on high and slips out of her. Jane flinches like she’s been shocked, but he doesn’t leave her empty for long. It takes nothing for him to scoop a hand under her, flip her over, and then bully his way between her legs. Jane’s eyes are wet and bright under her fringe when he picks up the same rhythm as before. Only now Billy’s intense stare pins Jane as well as his hands.

Billy entertains the brief thought of wrapping his hands around her throat. He’s done it before, remembers the jackrabbit pulse flicking under his fingers like someone recounted the tale to him instead of living it. He can’t trust himself, though. He might hurt her for real, might act on the ugly jealousy in him that howls for vengeance. Why her? Why not him? Billy’s hands will leave bruises on Jane’s shoulders as he snarls in her face, picking up speed. What does Max see in her that she can’t see in him? Isn’t he just as much of a broken toy, an exotic curiosity? Doesn’t he have depth and pages she could flick through and never get bored? Billy turns his head away from Jane’s gaze, hates that he’s done this. Hates that he can’t stop. Hates that when Jane’s trembling hands hold him by the jaw that he allows it, even allows her to kiss him.

Jane’s thin limbs help themselves when they wrap around him. It doesn’t leave much room to plow into her like an animal. Maybe this is better for her. She’s no longer quiet, hums and moans a little as her body bounces along to his thrusts. Jane’s fingers twist in his curls like he’d done to her, and she pants something in his ear. Maybe his name, maybe a sweet nothing. It’s okay. He recalls her comfort in a spray of fireworks and awakening dread of what he’d done, what he’d allowed to happen. Much like then, Jane somehow slips through all the cracks in him and brushes away the jealousy, finds the lonely, aching core inside him and rips it clean out. He doesn’t mean to come in her, finds that it happens without his permission as his hips give tiny jerks when he spills. They make soft noises together like they’re crying. Billy will deny it to his last day, will cloak himself in his jealousy the moment Jane staggers back into his bedroom. Because she has someone to go back to. Someone waiting for her. Not him. Never him. Playing pretend is all he has.

Chapter Text

Shivering perched in Billy’s lap, all three of them bare to the afternoon sun, Jane thinks it’s a good thing she and Max are almost the same height. The other way around, Billy flush to her back with Max under her, wouldn’t work out well. He’d have to stoop down to line them up. This is better, lets her have access to the honey of his skin, nevermind the scars. Two pairs of hands on Jane steady her as Max steps up behind her. The siblings play fight for control of her waist, both being unable to resist holding her here. Max is the one to give up. She needs at least one hand to join in the fun—Billy is already inside her, and Jane can’t wait to feel fuller than ever before.

She gives an impatient hop even as the dildo in Max’s harness rubs against her ass. Billy snorts under her, and Jane is sure the siblings share a look.

“Ready?” Max sighs in her ear, lips nuzzling the shell. “You have to say something if it hurts.”

Jane’s hands tighten where they splay on Billy’s chest. Despite all the hands on her, she wiggles between them.

“I’m ready, do it.”

“Love that enthusiasm,” Billy drawls, although Max shushes him.

“I mean it, El,” Max insists. The tip of the dildo nudges her harder, and Jane lets out a wild shiver. “I’ll go slow, okay?”

Jane has only ever seen this in porn. Billy had caught her watching it, teased while groping her that if she wanted to get stuffed, she only had to ask. They’re doing it this way the first time because the dildo currently nudging her ass and pushing forward is much smaller than Billy. She’s used to the stretch and weight of him in her pussy. Even that had taken time to work up to. So Max is the one warm and alive along her back and slowly sinking deeper into her slick ass. Courtesy of Billy’s enthusiasm and bigger fingers, she’s stretched enough for the silicone spearing her open. Any flinch or coo from Jane has Max pausing, like she needs all the time in the world to get used to it. Like Billy hasn’t been nearly rabid with the notion of fucking her ass. He’ll have his chance eventually.

The three of them breathe as one when Max is flush along her back, fully inside her. Their hands pet Jane all over to comfort her, sweet nothings encouraging her. Jane closes her eyes to so much attention, cheeks flushing from it all. Her lovers let her sit still, let her just take in the sensation. Jane wonders briefly, rough hands squeezing her breasts while dainty ones fondle her mound, if Billy feels the toy in her. What that must be like. She gives a curious shift to test the waters. Just a gentle lift on her knees spread around Billy’s hips. A loud gasp rips out of Jane, and her hands spasm where they hold on to Billy for dear life.

“Hey, hey,” he laughs softly under her. His fingers bump her jaw, and Jane bows her head to let Billy pet her cheek. She can’t look at him, though. It’s too much, and the darkness behind her eyelids is comforting. “Take your time, baby doll, there’s no rush.”

Jane shakes her head, short curls bouncing on her forehead, and then she hops again.

“I’m fine, just…” Another shiver tears through her. It’s so much at once, so much pressure on her walls. It almost hurts, but the longer she’s stuffed, the more that ache dulls into pleasure. Head tipped back with a sigh, Jane whispers, “Fuck me.”

Chapter Text

“Feel good?”

“Sort of…”

Max’s laugh is airy and playful as she brushes Jane’s hand away from between her legs.

“Like this, don’t do it so hard.”

Wrist crooked, Max tucks chilly fingers against Jane’s clit and rubs lighter than she had. Gentle strokes up and down, in circles, changing it up. Still, Jane jolts on Max’s bed, thighs trying to flinch shut.

“Sorry,” Max laughs. “I like it when my fingers are cold. Feels like someone else is touching me.”

Max’s fingers warm up anyway. It’s almost chilly in Max’s bedroom, them piled on her bed with just t-shirts on. When Jane sits up to watch, Max’s free hand catches her shoulder and guides her right back to the pillows. Max does not follow her down. That’s not what this is. Max is just showing her another normal-girl thing unknown to Jane until this moment.

“Close your eyes. Think about something nice or someone who’s hot.”

A frown wrinkles Jane’s face even as she does what she’s told.

“Like who?”

“Rob Lowe. That’s who I think about. Or Madonna, depends on what I want.”

Jane makes a tiny noise when Max pulls her hand away. It’s better when Max touches her. Jane’s own fingers do nothing for her. Still, Max takes Jane’s dainty hand and mirrors her motions using Jane’s fingers instead. Max’s hand lingers on top of hers while she helps Jane find the right rhythm and pressure. Another pretty whine coils in Jane’s throat when Max reaches farther down, gathers up slick, and then spreads it around. That’s better, and Jane relaxes into the pillows under her with a sigh.

“That’s it, I know that feels good.”

Jane nods without thinking about it. She’s still not thinking about anyone, mind carefully blank. Max’s weight beside her, soft breaths and clean smell are enough. When Max takes her hand away for good this time, leaving Jane in control, Jane gives her no protest. Heat pools under her cheeks as Max’s breaths pick up. She must be touching herself, too. Must be imagining the people she’d mentioned. Jane would wonder about the significance of that, why Max picks that man or woman to think about. Max lying down beside her and moaning steals Jane’s thoughts. The bed trembles under them with shifts of Max’s hips, so Jane copies her, rocking into her fingers. Something winds a spring tighter and tighter behind her navel. Vague pressure somewhere inside her like she has to use the bathroom very badly.

“Max,” she whimpers.

“It’s okay,” Max pants, groaning through her teeth. “You’re fine, just let it happen. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

Free hand clutching at her own thigh, Jane tips her head back in Max’s pillows to pant in the empty air. She’s plenty warm now, fingers slippery against her body, nerves vague and numb from how long she’s rubbed at herself. It’s definitely better when Max does it. It’s good enough because Max is here, voice going high and breaking as she moans. The same anticipation building to the breaking-point in Jane must burst in Max. She shakes the bed with a wild buck, and her moans rise and fall like a wave. Jane understands why when her hips lurch off the bed, everything between her legs spasming. Jane’s gasp and subsequent whimpers are quieter than Max. Shy almost. No shame, because Jane is innocent to such things. Her hand eventually falls away when it becomes too much. She lies twitching on Max’s bed, drifting until Max pets hair off her forehead.

“Wow,” Max breathes. Jane doesn’t dare open her eyes, too afraid of what she might see as Max’s shadow falls over her. “Damn El, that was hot. We shoulda been doing this a lot sooner.”

Jane nods again, melting into Max’s bed long before the redhead cuddles up to her. Max hesitates for only a second when her arms slide around Jane—is this okay? Jane returns that embrace, accepts the nuzzle of lips across her forehead and the gentle hand in her hair. Yes, she likes this much better. She’s thankful for the wealth of knowledge Max opens her eyes to. Maybe Max will see that it’s better when they touch each other instead. Maybe Jane can show her it’s better. She’ll figure it out somehow.

Chapter Text

Water striking the shower wall is static in Max’s ears. No matter how she scrubs her face, pinches herself, she cannot clear her head. The last dregs of filth—mud, blood, something else—slip down the drain. More creatures stalking the woods. Billy and Steve are hopefully sharing the other bathroom. Max isn’t sure how long she’s been in here, doesn’t exactly want to keep them waiting. Her skin is alive in a strange way like ants crawling under the top, thin layer. It would frighten her if not for every brush of her hands over said skin exciting her. Like Billy and Steve are here, hands all over her and eager.

The thought, the images rising hungrily in her head have her shivering despite the steam. When she blinks next, she stands truly shivering in the hallway down from Steve’s room. The Harrington house is quiet, Steve’s parents at their condo in Chicago. Downstairs, laughter from her lovers tickles her ears. Somehow, she manages the steps on wobbly legs. When Max finds her boys lounging on the couch, rubbing water out of their hair, all she can do is whine.

“What’s up with you?” Billy asks with a grin. 

Max’s tongue is too thick in her mouth to speak. She can only stumble towards him, Steve watching with an eyebrow cocked, as she falls on Billy and paws anywhere she can reach.

“Max? Are you okay?”

Steve had been the only one to see the monster they’d set on fire spray her in the face with some sort of dust. It’d taken scrubbing herself twice in the shower to wash away the glimmering stuff. Distantly, Max thinks Steve rests a hand on her naked back even as she ruts hard against Billy’s stomach and bites his neck.

“Shit!” Billy’s hands zip to her ass, instantly picking up on what she’s putting down and groping her. “Killing things makes you horny now, huh?”

Steve murmurs, “No, she got hit with something…”

Max just moans in Billy’s ear, tightens her grip around her neck, and snaps her hips harder into him like she’s fucking him already. That’s what she wants, she realizes, before frantically ripping at his sweatpants. No underwear, typical, and Max grinds herself on her brother’s soft cock. Not soft for long.

“Need you,” she whines into his neck. The imprints from her teeth are pink, and she bites him in the same spot to darken the marks. Billy jolts under her, rubbing hard against her clit. She’s already wet. She can hear the slick sound of them together. “Billy…”

More hands appear on her. They cup her waist while Billy rocks her ass to keep up their rhythm. Max twists around and shakes an arm free from her tight embrace around Billy’s neck. Steve is there, looking concerned but also biting his lip as he looks her up and down. He likes to watch them together, likes even more to be included. Max grabs his short jaw and hauls him close, biting at his lips until he opens for her tongue. She laps up the sweet noise Steve makes for her, thinks about climbing out of Billy’s lap to paw at Steve, too. Billy has other plans.

“Let’s fuck her in your dad’s bed,” Billy says with glee, nearly giggling.

Lips barely unlocked, Max almost smacks her head into Steve’s when Billy lifts them from the couch. His sweatpants slide down his legs, and he kicks them off with Max wrapped around him. He almost sprints out of the living room, hands possessive on her ass. Steve gives chase close behind, Max watching over Billy’s firm shoulder. A dusting of pink stains Steve’s face. His pupils are huge, just like hers. Maybe whatever the monster had sprayed her with is contagious. It doesn’t matter as Billy drops her on the bed. The boys climb up, Steve’s underwear shed too, and they descend upon her like rabid wolves. Hopefully tongues and fingers and cocks will quell the itch tingling all through Max’s skin.