#Scorpion Drive Jacket

[radmule]

Been really really busy lately, my finals are in few weeks and thus I don't have much time to do anything I enjoy. Still didn't finish the Fallout series, though I really want to get into it as soon as I'l have some free time to binge it and share my thoughts <3

...But! On Thursday I was out with my friend on double-feature of Drive and Fall Guy to clear my head a bit, and since yesterday, my mind has been rotting and I cannot focus on any studies. Thus this little scribblo was born. I remember not particularly liking Drive when I've seen it the first time, but for some reason it really struck me this time :') and ahhh the soundtrack, hearing it in cinema was pure heaven.

-Fall Guy on the other hand was *solid* flick if you think about it just as love letter to Stuntmen and ignore bunch of plotholes. It had some cool nods to popular movie stunts and even referenced Miami Vice (hearing its theme almost gave me heart attack haha). The nicest thing were the behind the scenes at the end, where they shown off the practical effects and put a focus on the stunt work, which was really sweet. I feel bad that it has not earned that much in box office, even if it isn't particularly a great film.

Realized how much I miss watching Goose films, so I hope to watch Beyond the Pines or BR2049 after finishing my studies :)

[hujimran]

🛠D R I V Е

9/10

Ryan's character is so deep, it would have been fascinating to know his past and background, but that air of mystery with a longing to belong to something made this film even better.

sort of my art with gosling’s scorpion satin jacket lmao

[thatsmylog]

coat por-n favor-n series, part 4/∞

[toskarin]

guy came into the club with a drive jacket so everyone walked over and now we're all lookin at the scorpion together

[bettyfrommars]

On Your Knees

mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

18+only, jealous!eddie, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, mutual pining

The year is 1991. You work across the street from Eddie's garage, and the two of you have been flirting for months. Neither one of you make a move, though, but when Eddie sees you out on a date at The Hideout with someone else, he realizes he doesn't want to share you.

Word count: 3.8k

Song Inspo: No One Like You/Scorpions and On Your Knees/W.A.S.P.

You’re finishing up dinner on a date with a guy you don’t even like, and you’re bored as hell, when you realize that the restaurant he took you to is only two blocks away from The Hideout. Your heart grows arms and legs and does a cartwheel as you think about Eddie. Eddie Munson, the one who turns wrenches at the gas station/mechanic shop across from the cafe where you’ve been working to pay off your student loans. Eddie, the one who calls you Princess, and you hate it, but he calls you that anyway. Eddie, the one who sat with you and made you laugh when you found out your parents were getting divorced. Eddie, the one who has a secret crush on you, but keeps his distance because he thinks you’re too good for him.

Eddie, the guy who hasn't dated anyone all summer because he compares everyone to you, and they all fall short.

Tonight, you’re with Troy: he just graduated with a business degree and his dad owns half of Hawkins. He has an Andrew McCarthy look about him, but he spent almost the entire evening bragging about all of the hot women he’s dated, and reminding you what a catch he his. Before Troy drives you home, you tell him you want to see some live music at The Hideout, that a friend of yours has a band that plays there once in a while.

“Have you ever been to that place?” Troy asks, a disgusted look on his face. “It’s a dump. We’ll probably get hepatitis just from sitting on the seats.”

There is a guy at the door on a stool with long blonde hair and a handlebar mustache wearing sunglasses at night taking the $1 cover. He doesn’t check your ID’s but he does look you both up and down with a grunt as Troy passes him the cash. A waft of cigarette smoke billows out as you enter, the old wood plank floors squeaking under your feet. On stage at the end of the room is a band covering No One Like You by Scorpions, and you notice right away that none of them are Eddie. It’s not until you realize how disappointed you are that you finally come to terms with the fact that you do, in deed, have a thing for Eddie. It was always a possibility in the back of your mind, but now you’re not sure why you didn’t realize it sooner.

It would be too obvious to turn around and leave now, so you ask Troy to get you each a beer. Eddie told you that there are never many people at The Hideout, and he was right, but the crowd that chose to be there was plenty enthusiastic. You were able to find two stools at a small, round table against the wall that was sticky to the touch. You watch Troy wipe the top of his beer bottle of with the inside of his polo shirt. You’re facing the stage, sipping your beer, enjoying the crowd, pretending to hear whatever college glory story Troy is telling you. You were putting your beer down to clap at the end of the song, but then…

There he is, in the flesh: Eddie Munson.

You see him sitting three tables away, near the middle of the room, and just as you realize it’s him—his eyes connect with yours. You have a sharp intake of breath at how good he looks sitting there in his leather jacket with his long hair all around him. Normally, you see him during work hours and he wears his coveralls and his hair back in a ponytail, which you also find sexy as hell.

Suddenly, you don’t want him to see you here with Troy. You don’t want him to think that this date means anything to you. You put your head down as if the beer bottle can hide you. But when you lift your eyes to sneak a glance at him again, you see he’s still looking at you; his eyes shifting from you to the back of Troy. He lifts his beer bottle in greeting, his eyebrow up, his face unreadable. You’d always known Eddie to be quick to smile—always joking with you and teasing you; trying to find any reason to touch you or talk to you when he came around before work, on his lunch break, and sometimes after work if he saw you closing up. But, in that moment, his face was anything but pleased.

You curse under your breath.

“What was that?” Troy asks, his face cringing at the next song (On Your Knees – W.A.S.P.)

You smile because you have no idea what he just said.

Troy chuckles, picks up your hand, and puts the back of your fingers to his lips to kiss them. You don’t even need to check and see if Eddie saw that, because you know he did. You force yourself to count to ten before you look in his direction again.

But he’s not looking at you this time, he’s talking to one of the two other guys at his table. A sexy waitress wearing daisy duke shorts to show off her long legs and a low cut shirt to show off her goods, was at his table, probably taking their drink order. To your chagrin, the hot waitress moves behind Eddie’s chair and bends over to wrap her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his head. Eddie sat there and let it happen; he looked like he was enjoying himself, one side of his mouth kicking up in one of those playfully devilish grins. In a follow up bold move, the waitress slides around to sit in his lap, her arm around his shoulders, her mouth only inches from his.

You jerk your head away so fast, it’s almost like you got slapped. You pretend to watch the band over Troy’s shoulder, not sure if you could handle it if you had to watch Eddie kiss someone else. Just as you are internally screaming at yourself not to look over again—you do it anyway.

The waitress is on her feet now, but Eddie has his arm hooked around her legs, her ass close to his face. With an adoring smile, she runs her hand down Eddie’s hair, and then gives him a wink before she walks away.

Eddie’s eyes snap to you.

You look down at your beer and choke, but turn it into a cough, and cover your mouth with your hand. The thought occurs to you that he was egging that waitress on to get back at you for being there with Troy. What did Eddie have to be jealous about? He never asked you out on a date or let you know he had any romantic interest in you. Sure, you suspected that the feelings between the two of you were growing, but for all you knew, you were misinterpreting things. You both graduated from different high schools, and Eddie liked to joke that you never would’ve given him the time of day back then. You were the prom queen, and he was The Freak.

“You okay?” Troy asks, putting his hand on your arm. “You ready to get out of this shithole?” But he only mouths the word shithole, as if anyone could hear him over the music.

You swallow hard and give an enthusiastic, albeit fake, “yes! Absolutely,” but first you needed to use the restroom; you’re not sure what is going on in your gut, but it feels like a swarm of butterflies wielding knives.

You stumble a bit getting off your stool, but then collect yourself, faking a confident smile. Troy lets you know that he would meet you outside in the car. Feeling somehow justified to do so after Eddie’s handsy nature with the waitress, you kiss Troy on the cheek as you head to the bathroom with your head down.

Ducking into the narrow hallway that was off to the back of the stage, you exhale a long-held breath, steadying yourself against the wall. The hallway is painted black brick, plastered in stickers, hand-drawn band posters, and graffiti. There is a payphone separating the two bathrooms, and when you pull open the door with the outline of a stick figure in a dress on it, you’re relieved to find that it was a one-person bathroom; gas station style. The bathroom itself is filled with graffiti tags and stickers as well, and there are peoples names etched into the mirror, along with phone numbers and curse words.

You make sure the door is locked, and then start pacing back and forth. “Damn you, Eddie,” you whisper to the emptiness around you.

You brace your hands on the edge of the white porcelain sink, meeting the eyes of your reflection in the mirror; they are positioned right under a very crudely carved broken heart outline. “Get a hold of yourself,” you’re still talking to yourself---Eddie Munson is slowly but surely making you certifiable. Everything is cool, everything is great. You’ll make a beeline for the exit, and you won’t have to see which girl he has on his lap now.

You shake your hands out, sigh heavily, and then unlock the door on an exhale.

As you come out, another woman who had been waiting gives you a dirty look and then goes in behind you. Once she shuts the door, you realize that you’re standing out in the dark hallway with Eddie.

He’s leaning casually against the opposite wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and then he lifts his chin at you once you realize that it’s him, a bored look on his face. “What are you doing here, Princess?”

“Hi Eddie. I have to go now,” you say in a rush as you move to walk by him. In response, he stretches his arm out, takes a big step, and plants his hand flat on the wall next to you, using his body to block your path, his wallet chain hitting the brick with a clack.

There is a dramatic pause as it takes you a few seconds to find the strength to look up at him, and meanwhile you stare at the tattered metal t-shirt under his leather. There is a tightening in your chest: part confusion, part fear, and part deep, primal need that makes your core throb.

When your eyes slowly climb to his, you see that the pupils in his chocolate brown eyes are blown, and his lips are parted.

“What do you want, Eddie?” You ask, trying to read the hard set of his jaw.

He moves closer and lowers his head so that your eyes are now on the muscles of his neck, his heart beat visible.

“Is that your boyfriend?” His voice is a low murmur.

In a strange burst of frustration, you cock your head at him, pulling back to meet his eyes again. “What do you care?”

The woman comes out of the bathroom and give you both a side-eye as she walks by.

You follow suit and duck to the side to move around Eddie, but he is quick to switch positions---stretching his arm out so that the flat of his palm meets the opposite wall with a smack, his metal rings clinking together. The smell of his cologne mixed with leather and tobacco intoxicating you like a drug about to send you on a high to outer space.

Fuck, I can’t let her leave, Eddie thinks to himself, his mind racing, his heart about to explode out of his chest with the massive crush he has on you. For the past couple weeks, he’s been trying to build up the courage to ask you out, but then he would look down at his dirty hands and drive back to his messy trailer and push the thought out of his mind. But, seeing you on a date with someone else, someone other than him, flipped a switch that turned him into a bit of possessive, jealous asshole, and he didn’t like that side of him. It also set off an alarm deep in his gut letting him know that he was already in deep with you, and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

“Why was he touching you?” He glances up at his hand on the wall, but then flicks his gaze back down to you, lingering on your mouth, expecting an answer.

“Are you in charge of who gets to touch me now?” You rest your shoulder on the wall, returning his eye contact with a defiance that makes him the first to look away.

Eddie’s jaw muscles tighten, his back teeth grinding—he felt like he was losing control. The need for you to be his—to belong to him—tightened like thorns around his heart more and more every day.

“Listen, Eddie,” you soften, remembering that this is the guy who makes you mix tapes and leaves his tip money in the shape of origami animals. “I went on a date with him because he asked me. And I’ve been really...lonely,” you were a bit ashamed to say that last part, but it was true.

Eddie softens too, hearing your voice tremble.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “Being with him only made me realize how much I’d rather be with you.”

The look you give him moves him in a way he could not have predicted. In the time it takes for him to exhale the breath held tight in his chest, Eddie cups your face in his hands, and backs you against the far wall, his mouth covering yours, moaning as you slip your tongue between his lips, meeting his desire with equal force.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispers against your mouth.

You grab him by the belt loop and yank him closer. “You can have it, all of it,” you say, breathlessly. You can tell his hands are hovering, not sure if you want him to touch you in other places, and so you reach down and cup between his legs, a bit taken aback at the size of the cock growing in his jeans.

“Holy shit,” you say as you glance down.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says in regards to his size.

“Don’t be sorry,” you assure him. “I want it inside of me.”

Eddie pauses to make eye contact with you, swallowing hard, the need for you tightening in his balls. You both glance at the empty bathroom and simultaneously start to move, shutting and locking the door as soon as you can. The romantic in Eddie can’t help but think that this isn’t the ideal place for a first time with you, but you’re both too horny—too ready. He can feel how ready you are soaking through your panties as he reaches under your dress to stroke you.

Eddie has you against the door of the bathroom, his tongue searching your mouth, moaning, while his fingers rub you on top of your underwear before slipping them aside to stick one finger in.

Your breath catches, and Eddie groans at your resistance, at how tight you are.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your mouth. “I want to taste you.”

He drops to his knees, taking your underwear with him as you hold your dress up at your waist. He takes one more look up at you, still not believing this is really happening. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he gushes, just as his mouth buries into your folds, his tongue dipping down to fuck your hole. You put your hand to his hair and cling to it. He brings one finger up inside of you again, finding a little less resistance, as he sucks and flicks his tongue on your nub.

“Oh my god...Eddie...just like that…”

You hear people out in the hallway, but one uses the payphone and another one goes into the men’s restroom. You can feel Eddie’s hand with the chunky rings resting on your thigh, and you reach your hand down to intertwine fingers with his as he ventures to sink a second finger inside of you. You cry out a little, and his eyes snap up to look at you, but then he realizes it was a cry of pleasure as your opening spreads open for him, swelling to meet his needs.

Your leg starts to tremble; you release his hand to pull down the front of your dress and cup your breast, plucking at your nipple.

“Baby..I think I’m about to….oh fuck…”

Eddie takes your core into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue at a rapid speed, filling you with two fingers as your arousal drips down your inner thighs.

“Wait...wait….” you stop him, and reluctantly he tilts his face back to look at you; his mouth and chin glistening with your juices. You grab his chin. “I want to cum with you inside me.”

Eddie’s cock jerks in his jeans at that suggestion, even though he intended to make this all about you.

“Please, baby,” you plead with him, still holding him by the chin, and then he rises to his full height and prepares to wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand before he kisses you, but you stop him.

“I want to taste me on you,” you tell him, as your mouths collide again, murmuring about your mutual need for each other. Eddie feels like the tip of his cock is about to blow off with how turned on he is by you.

Eddie turns you around, reaching around to play with your clit as he does so, your head tilting back to kiss him. You press your cheek against the door and pull your skirt up, your underwear still around your knees, arching your lower back so that your ass lifts up to him.

He spanks you with the flat of his hand, and then rubs it; he opens you up with his thumbs to look at your perfect asshole. He runs a finger from your swollen lips to your backdoor, watching you shiver at the sensation.

He undoes his belt and drops his black jeans and boxers just enough, clutching his throbbing hard cock. You look behind you at the weapon in his hand and start to rock your hips back, begging for it.

Eddie squeezes some precum to the tip and then rubs it along your soft, soaking hole, feeling it grip him and suck him in. Your tight entrance makes him shiver as he clutches your ass with a grunt, his rings slightly pinching your skin. He thrusts it in half way and you toss your head back.

“Oh my god, fuck fuck, oh my goddddd….” you can feel the orgasm mounting again, unfurling like a band of firecrackers at the base of your spine.

Someone knocks on the bathroom door.

“Out of Order!” Eddie growls back at them.

His hips are rocking now, sending his cock deeper and deeper inside of you, “holy fuck, you feel so good,” he groans with a curse, moving faster now, watching your juices soak his cock.

A few more thrusts and you are bracing yourself against the door, muttering about how good it feels, pushing your ass back into him so that he can bottom out inside of you, cursing and groaning as he does so.

“That’s it,” he tells you, your skin meeting with a satisfying slapping sound. “That’s my good girl.”

You reach down and rub your clit as you reach the brink, your body vibrating, the heavy beat of the music thudding in your chest.

“Eddie...Eddie baby...I’m...I’m…” And then you go momentarily limp and he holds your hips as you stupify for a moment, seeing white behind your eyelids, soaking his cock with your cum, mumbling, as a whip inside of you snaps.

Eddie’s orgasm isn’t far behind, he hisses at the way your walls grip him as you cum, hearing your whimpers of pleasure.

His hips start to pump at twice the pace, pouring into you, his wallet chain slapping his jeans. “Fuck, I’m about to...where do you want me to…”

“Inside of me, oh god, inside of me….”

A few more thrusts and he starts to explode, sending his seed deep inside of you, kneading the skin on your ass as his pelvis curves against you. He trembles as he gushes, his hand traveling up to cup the back of your neck.

Heaving deep breaths, he pulls you back against him, kissing your neck, fondling your breast, his cock not ready to leave the tight grip you have on him. “My cum is so deep inside of you, you belong to me now.”

You turn your head to look up into his eyes and he kisses your mouth and then your nose, holding you there.

Someone bangs on the door again, and this time they rattle the handle.

You both share muffled laughs as you quickly pull yourselves together.

“Sorry, toilet was broken,” you yell, checking your face in the mirror.

When you’re both ready, Eddie reaches back to take your hand in his before he unlocks the door.

On the other side of the door is Troy. He’s frowning, and then his face drops, his mouth going agape as he sees the state of you two and his brain scrambles to register what he is looking at.

“What the hell is going on?” He barks at you, incredulous. You find it amusing that Troy was worried about catching germs from merely sitting on the seats, and here you are getting raw-dogged in one of the bathrooms.

Eddie keeps a firm grip on your hand, pulling you closer to him, as he checks Troy in the shoulder on his way out. “She’s with me now,” Eddie tells him. “Don’t ever touch her again.”

You shrug your shoulders at Troy, and give him an ‘oops’ face as you follow Eddie’s lead back to his van, back to more debauchery.

[ken-dom]

can you make a ryan smut to this link??

https://x.com/daddyyrough/status/1809004178221478197?s=46

I don’t have twitter so my trusty pal @heresthestorymorningglory took one for the team and described the content to me (WARNING if you follow the link it is NSFW and may require headphones!). It reminded us of the first Driver fic she wrote which is delicious (you can find it here). And in answer to your ask dear anon,

Imagine wearing only Driver’s jacket in the passenger seat ∘₊✧

Driver x afab!reader

∘₊✧ NSFW, semi-nudity, fingering, glove kink, horny Driver, semi-public

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

Driver never takes long to rest a hand at your thigh when you reach the deserted bit of road you’ve made a habit of frequenting.

His breath hitches. Even through the conditioned leather he can feel the silky warmth of bare skin. You’re wearing nothing below the waist. He smirks.

You’d snuck so quickly into his car in the pitch dark, his eyes distracted by your upper body clad in his beloved scorpion jacket, shining in the dim glow of the courtesy light, that he hadn’t thought to check the rest of you out.

He wonders if you’re wearing anything under the jacket, whether your soft flesh is rubbing up against the lining each time you take a breath, silk dragging deliciously over your hardened nipples and sending shivers running through your sensitive body.

He wonders if it will still smell like you tonight when he’s alone again.

He knows you like his gloves, like it even better when he fucks you on them, rocking his fingers in and out with calculating precision. Your reactions drive him wild, your scent on his gloves makes him dizzy. He never imagined how much he would like his own jacket on you, though. His cock twitches.

Foot pressed firmly to the accelerator, the hand at your thigh doesn’t grip you, digging fingers deep into flesh to tease as he normally would. Instead it darts between your closed legs, dipping immediately into your slick folds and curling up inside your entrance. God, you’re so wet already. He feels his cock leak against the denim.

He shudders as your legs drop apart for him, spread out, dripping onto the passenger seat, breath heavy and laced with quiet moans. He nestles the heel of his palm against your heat, each thrust of his fingers inside you dragging leather over your clit in turn. It’s a rhythm that feels fucking incredible, but isn’t enough to tip you over the edge yet, and he knows it.

You grab at his wrist, rolling your hips to meet his movements.

His blood is boiling, pounding in his ears, mingling with your moans. He needs to bury himself inside you or he might lose control. He needs to stay inside you forever, in fact. Warm and wet and safe.

He finds somewhere to park.

[vriskaserketdaily]

Vriska considering a purchase of jacket with a scorpion on the back, as seen in the film Drive.

please remember that john is in the habit of gifting authentic hollywood props and costume pieces to friends

it's the real deal. and it's a bit roomy.

[melodymunson]

older! Rockstar Eddie Munson x fem! reader x eventual older Steve x fem!reader.

(Eddie is 38 and the reader is 25.) The year is 2008. All 21 chapters are on ao3. Only chapter 1 will be on tumblr.

series title: Love Buzz

chapters 1 and preview of chapter 2 (5K words)

chapter 1: like a dream come true

series summary: Corroded Coffin have a reunion tour with none other than doom/gothic metal legends Type O' Negative. Reader recently finished college with a bachelor's degree in the music business. After being interviewed by none other than Eddie Munson himself, you get the job as their touring band manager. What starts as a business relationship grows into friendship and eventually an epic romance. Steve Harrington is CC's bodyguard. Eventual Steddie x fem! reader. Multi-series.

Ao3 link

The sound of your alarm clock blared in your ears as you removed your eye mask and stretched. You turned it off, then got up and put on your house slippers, then made your way to your shower to get ready for the day. Gone were the days of doing pole dancing and burlesque for money to pay for college. Your college debt was all paid for and you had a temporary, yet steady job working at your best friend's family-owned restaurant. Pay and tips were good, but today you were interviewing for your dream job. You couldn't wait to meet the frontman and lead guitarist of the legendary 80s metal band Corroded Coffin- Eddie Munson. They toured with so many amazing bands back in the day before they reunited, such as Carnivore, Cinderella, Whitesnake, The Scorpions, Bon Jovi, W.A.S.P., and even the Prince of Darkness himself- Ozzy Osbourne. The 80s were a bit of an obsession to you, even though you only grew up late in the decade and were just a kid when the 80s were about to end. The 90s were just fine, but you had the fondest memories of your childhood in the 80s. Once you washed your hair and used your favorite body wash, you shave your legs and blow dry your hair before applying your favorite scent of perfume and lotion. The interview flyer said to dress casually, so you dressed in your favorite pair of black leather pants and a Black Sabbath tour shirt. You paired it with your most worn and metal pin-decorated black leather jacket. Although you were a bit apprehensive about anything that could go wrong, you instead decided to focus on all the good. After getting some breakfast, you headed out to go to the drive-thru and pick up your favorite coffee order then go to Eddie's studio for the interview. Corroded Coffin was recording a brand new EP and it was the first music they would release in over 10 years, since their last show and album was back in 1995. The original lineup was back together, though and they needed a new manager- someone reliable. With your degree and experience working a little in the music industry throughout college and in your 2-year internship.

When you arrived at their studio, Eddie's uncle Wayne led you into the recording studio and told you to make yourself comfortable. You had a short phone interview with Eddie but this second interview would be the last one to see if you would get the position. That summer Corroded Coffin had a 30-date North American tour that was sold out, including 4 dates in Canada. Traveling was something you wanted to do much more of and this would be the perfect opportunity for that. Your last relationship ended only two months ago and you couldn't wait to find more things to do to keep yourself busy. This dream job would hopefully be the best distraction. As you walked into the studio, Eddie saw smiled at you as he looked you up and down. He was quite impressed with what he was seeing. When you sat down in the room opposite the recording booth, Eddie put his guitar down and made his way over to the room you were in. You stood up as soon as he entered and Wayne left. Eddie looked even more attractive in person. He had the most stunning tattoos and his curly locks of hair were something else. When you were younger, you had a big crush on him, but now you felt like you were smitten. Seeing him in magazines, on posters, in interviews, and even in music videos didn't do him enough justice. He was not just hot and sexy he was a very handsome man and his stubble only added to the allure. His ripped Ozzy shirt complimented his pair of spandex jeans quite well.

"Sit down, please. I'd like to get this interview started and after you can stay if you'd like and hear us record a new song. How does that sound?" He asked as he sits down in a chair opposite from yours.

"Yes, sir. I mean Mr. Munson. I would like that very much."

"No, no, don't call me sir, or Mr. Munson. That's my father and sir just makes me feel like an old man," he admitted, trying to hold back a slight chuckle.

You sat back down and nodded your agreement, waiting pensively for the interview to start. Even though no one else was around or super close by, you couldn't help but feel your nerves get the better of you. Here this beautiful rockstar and guitar Adonis was sitting right in front of you, and it was making you nervous. It was a good thing you had some time before the studio to do your makeup- some black eyeshadow, lipstick, and foundation.

"Well, to be quite honest with you, judging from your resume, you are one of the two most qualified so this interview will be the last one before I make my final decision. I will call you with the news by tonight after talking it over with the rest of the guys. Now my first question is, are you completely dedicated to being on a full-length all-summer tour across North America with Canada included?" He asked with a raise of his brows.

His brown button eyes were so gorgeous. You couldn't fall for him though. He was your potential boss after all. If you didn't end up getting the job, then you probably wouldn't hear from him again unless you went to one of their shows.

"I know I am qualified for this job and I am very dedicated to my job. At the moment, I work at a restaurant, but I can give my week's notice and be there for you at the start of the tour and throughout the summer, Eddie. I also have my passport renewed and ready at my disposal now if you'd like to check it out."

"That won't be necessary." He clears his throat, then eyes you up and down again with a small smirk on his lips. "I need to have you sign an NDA otherwise known as a nondisclosure agreement. What happens and what is said on tour and in the studio stays on tour and in the studio. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Eddie. I understand that fully. I am familiar with NDA and I could sign one."

"Good, because we wouldn't want my band's new songs to be leaked, now would we? The album isn't being released until the very end of the summer after all. Not even the song track titles," he explains to you as he gestures with his hands for emphasis. His metal and sterling silver rings were a sight to see and you liked his style.

"I completely understand. I can keep it a secret."

"Now there's no set uniform for this job, but just to let you know I like your style and would like to see you wear similar outfits on the tour. Just throwing that out there. I've seen your references, resume, as well as your degree in music and your GPA, and I am highly impressed. I just have one last question for you. Are you prepared for long days and some grueling nights? Can you keep up with that sort of lifestyle with little sleep some nights, well most nights actually, and being around as well as managing 4 crazy old dude rockers?"

He didn't want to scare you off or make you nervous. Those things were far from his true intentions, but he wanted to know that he had someone reliable for him. Someone who truly was a person he could count on, because there were so many people he couldn't even trust.

"Yes, Eddie. I can be the manager that you and Corroded Coffin need."

He got up and put out his hand for you to shake. You took it and shook his hand.

"I'll be in touch. We are about to record our guitar and drum solos for the new track and I think you should stay."

"I will. Thank you."

He nodded and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. As they recorded, you watched in amazement and fascination, as you banged your head along to the music. His eyes met yours as he played his solo, and a wicked grin was on his face whenever he made eye contact with you. Later on, he talked to his bandmates and they decided on the new band touring manager.

Eddie's POV:

I like her already. She has a good personality, likes great music, she seems reliable and trustworthy, and even better she certainly has the look to be my band manager. I just wonder if she will have what it takes to survive out on the road with the 4 of us crazy rockers. The relationship is going to be professional and I won't let myself stray from my music and my job but God if I said I didn't want to take her out I would be lying. She is drop-dead gorgeous and I feel like she is the perfect fit for our band. Once I call Miranda and let her know the job position has been filled, I will call her to let her know she has the gig.

Your phone rang almost right after you had finished up your dinner and watched one of your favorite movies on DVD. You picked it up almost instantly once Eddie's name showed up on the caller ID.

"Hello?" You asked.

"It's me, Eddie. I just got off the phone with the other interviewee and I had to let her down easily. You got the job."

You muted your mic for a few seconds to do a happy dance and scream before unmuting him.

"Great. When do I start?"

"I'm glad you still want the job. Two weeks from tomorrow, we start tour prep, and two days after that we are off on the road. Are you sure you're ready for this and fully committed to it?"

"I am. I swear."

"Good now get some rest and I will call you in about a few with some more details."

"Thanks, Eddie."

"Good night. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Eddie."

You hung up and danced all around your house before you called your best friend to celebrate. She came over for celebratory drinks and hugged you before she left. She more than understood you calling it quits with your job at her family's restaurant and things were great between the two of you. You slept well that night.

Your best friend couldn't help but gush about it with you when you revealed you had gotten the job, and that you were now officially the touring band manager of Corroded Coffin. She was so happy for you and it was going to be the best thing ever to go out on tour with one of your favorite bands. The summer tour started in Los Angeles, California, and ended in Brooklyn, New York, with some other dates. Of course, there would be a stop in Hawkins, Indiana, the band's hometown. Your friend couldn't help but talk about just how hot she thought Eddie was, especially in recent interviews and magazine print photos. She was so jealous of you and you promised her a backstage pass in New York. Eddie and his fellow bandmates had moved to Brooklyn in the early 2000s because of the great music scene there. The tour with Type O' Negative was a co-headliner with the bands switching stage times each night of the tour. Of course, you thought Eddie was great looking and getting to know him better throughout the tour, which you imagined would happen, was going to be pretty great. According to the tabloids, he was recently single but of course, your relationship with him was going to be professional. You didn't dare ask an almost stranger about his relationship status. Eddie was formerly married with no children. His ex-wife, Hailey, supposedly could be a real bitch, and you hoped you would never have to cross paths with her. It was going to be the summer of a lifetime guaranteed and as you packed for your trip, you listened to Corroded Coffin as your bestie and roommate helped you get ready for the tour. The way he smelled at the interview was a mixture of nicotine and a nice spicy cologne and aftershave. His hands were calloused from playing the guitar, but it seemed like he had the tried and true hands of a real guitarist. What you wouldn't give to have his hands in yours. You fantasized about him at night and thought about his big and strong arms wrapped around you, but of course, that couldn't be possible, right? He was your boss and good-looking, but still, you didn't want to jeopardize your dream job. You would keep your hands to yourself. For all you knew, he probably had a girlfriend, and in a low-key relationship, he hid from the public's view. Either way, there would probably still be groupies on tour.

A few nights later, just days before the tour, Eddie called you post-band rehearsal.

"Hi, Eddie. I hope you are doing well."

"Thank you, and I am. I just wanted to get in touch to talk to you about a few things. The plane and itinerary that you have received in the mail are all paid for up-front and included in your salary. Is now a good time to talk?"

"Definitely. I wasn't busy doing anything."

"Good. I assume you also got the checklist for what you need to bring on tour and what's suggested, what you should probably leave behind?"

"I did. I received it in the mail today," you told him sounding eager in your tone as you lay on your bed.

You took another sip of your glass of red wine, as Eddie took another puff of his joint.

"Well, great then. Now on this tour, family and friends can be invited backstage, and on the tour bus, but we have a strict schedule, with a limited number of days off. I was just making sure it's understood that you run it by me first before any family or friends come backstage?"

Secretly, you wondered if Eddie liked younger women but quickly dismissed this thought.

"That's perfectly understandable and I will let you know in advance. My best friend wants to come to the New York show. Is that alright?"

"In Brooklyn? Definitely. I just have one more question for you." He paused for a few brief moments, and took another drag, before placing the joint down on his ashtray and continuing. The suspense was killing you. It sounded like he was smoking, and his voice was smoky, but in a good way. "Well, since all the technicalities are already taken care of, and the traveling logistics, as well as the food budget, I was just wondering if you would be interested in directing and being in our next music video?"

At that moment, you wanted so badly to jump up and down in excitement- and to scream, but contained yourself, and calmed down before you responded to him.

"That sounds pretty amazing. I'd love to direct and star in your new music video," you told him, sounding very intrigued.

"Great and finally, I just wanted to make sure you don't have any further questions for me."

"Not at the moment. My best friend will take care of my dog and I will be there for the full duration of the job. No one will come in between my job or be in the way."

"Well, you are still pretty young. You'll be pretty great for the job then. I have one more thing to say. You'll be one of the very first people to hear the new album in its entirety, including bonus tracks and all. Also, I wanted to tell you about one of my good friends. Steve. Steve Harrington. He's going to be our merch guy. Just letting you know."

"Great. I can't wait to meet him."

"Me too. Take care and I'll see you at the airport on Saturday?"

"Definitely. See you then. Good night Eddie."

"Good night, Y/N."

As you counted down the days on your calendar until the next time you would see Eddie again, you made the most of it. You spent each day with your best friend, until the day of the flight. After a nice shopping trip together and buying some new clothes, as well as shoes for your trip, you had a sleepover and reminisced about old times. When the day finally came to see Corroded Coffin and meet up with the band at the airport, you put on your best perfume after your shower. You changed into your favorite band tee, along with ripped jeans, your best black leather jacket, and platform boots. You took a taxi to the airport, and when you arrived at JFK international airport, you checked in through security and met Eddie, Jeff their guitarist, Gareth their drummer, and their bassist, Grant, by the gates.

Everyone ended up being nice in the band, and as a late arrival, Steve showed up.

"Hi, I'm Steve. You must be the new band manager, Y/N."

He extended his hand for you to shake, which you accepted.

"Eddie mentioned you. Nice to meet you."

As everyone sat around waiting for the plane to board, Eddie went to the nearest snack machine and brought bag packs of chips and bottles of water for everyone. You thanked him, glad to have a snack. Soon the plane was called to board and you got on soon finding your seat in first class. It was amazing to be sitting next to Eddie, and you felt like rock royalty, as you were in that section with the band. You didn't quite feel worthy, but you felt so at ease around him and near him. The faint smells of both tobacco and a nice cologne were coming off of Eddie. It was so comforting to you and as the plane took off and emerged into the air, you felt more calm than ever before. Soon you had champagne, and after your first big swig of it, you could feel the alcohol hit you. It was a nice feeling to have. The movie Playing on the flight was a horror film called The Devil's Rejects, and it was pretty enjoyable so far. You wanted to pace yourself and had just one glass as opposed to the other guys having between 1-3. Soon it was lunchtime, and after you ate you fell asleep and napped for the next few hours. The total flight time was about 6 hours. When you woke up close to the time of the plane landing, you were resting against Eddie's shoulder. Startled a little bit by your position, you looked up into his chocolate-brown eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"I slept well," you replied, trying your best to not make anything seem awkward as you smiled back at him.

Eddie said nothing about the way you were sleeping and instead looked out of the window. Soon the plane made its descent, and you felt a mixture of emotions, including apprehension and happiness, but also a feeling of euphoria. After all, you were in the city of Angels and you felt like anything was possible. The following night was the first day of the tour at The Mayan. It was a sold-out show and would have close to 2000 attendees. The night after was Vegas, and you were looking forward to seeing some of the West Coast.

"So, are you ready to hit up the hotel and then maybe go out after for some drinks?" Eddie asked you.

"Oh, that would be great."

"Good. You have your room at the hotel, of course, and with the best view."

"Thanks, Eddie." You wondered if the bar meet-up would be with just Eddie or some of the other guys as well.

As you got off the plane and went to collect your luggage at the airport, Eddie stayed close to your side. He couldn't wait to take a smoke break, but right now, his priority was getting everyone safely to the hotel. He hailed a cab for you and him, along with Jeff. Gareth and Grant would take the next one though. L.A. was so busy and crowded, but as the traffic lightened up a little bit, you soon found yourself at the entrance to the Sheraton Hotel. The place was very nice, and after checking in with the hotel staff at the front desk, you took the elevator with Eddie to your rooms on the fourth floor. Once you parted ways with him, you explored your room and unpacked, before freshening up just a little bit. He texted you he would be at the local bar at the Virgil in downtown L.A. around 630 p.m. You texted back you would be there. Soon you left for the club and when you arrived, you found Eddie outside smoking. As you walked up to him you noticed the song playing in the bar was a Corroded Coffin song.

"Sounds like they are playing your song."

"Yep, they sure are. Shall we go in?"

You nodded your approval and walk with him into the bar. Soon you sat down, and the bartender came over to ask for your drink orders and ids. You showed her your ID, and she took your order of a mojito and Eddie's order of a triple shot of bourbon.

"So, what do you like to do for fun?"

"I'm very into art, cinema, photography, makeup, concerts, and shopping. That sort of stuff."

"Nice. Pretty much the same for me except makeup and shopping aren't all that bad. It just depends on what you are shopping for I guess. I love record stores."

"Me too. Swap meets, garage sales, and vinyl record shows can be pretty fun too."

"I agree. Great minds think alike."

With drinks in hand now, he gave you a toast.

"To us."

"To us," you repeated after him right before clinking your glasses together, then taking a big sip of your mojito. It was delicious, and most importantly, refreshing.

He loved how his bourbon tasted on his tongue, and he loved the feeling of the liquor in his system. A good drink after a nice smoke was just what he needed.

After a long silent pause, the song Master of Puppets began playing in the club. Eddie's head banged along to it and you smiled at him warmly, feeling a slight buzz from the liquor as you took another big sip of it and so did Eddie.

"This is my favorite to cover live especially," he mentioned with a slight hum, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I love this song and I'm sure the cover live is great. Hopefully, I will hear it on this tour."

He nodded in agreement as a big smirk formed on his face.

"Definitely. You sure will," he told you as he lifted his glass again to clink against yours.

He drank and leaned his head against his hand as he looked at you with his beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

"What's on your mind?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious as he stared at you.

You took a big gulp of your drink, practically finishing it now, then set it down on the counter.

"I'm thinking about dancing. Head banging. I mean Metallica is awesome and makes me want to move. Know what I mean?"

"Sure. Why not?"

He got up and offered his hand for you to take. As soon as your hand met his and you made contact, you let him escort you to the dance floor.

As you moved in time to the music and danced close to him, you spun around, then bravely bumped and ground against him, with your back facing towards his chest. You boldly moved against him and leaned your head back. He enjoyed the close contact as the song's second verse wrapped up and the chorus kicked in again. He sang along to the music, and his head banged as you continued to move against him, but almost lost your balance. Catching you instantly, Eddie whispered in your ear.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine."

"I think we should dance a bit more, then head back to the hotel," he suggested.

You nodded in agreement, then continued dancing as he held onto your hips so you wouldn't fall. Eddie was all smiles as you danced for him. He was just so happy. You felt so excited and felt that at that moment, anything was possible. It was getting late and the tour was starting tomorrow. Right now you were going to live it up.

More songs came on, and with each one, you danced close to him, getting so close that your lips almost brushed against his. The way he smiled at you made you smile. He made you feel so safe with him. It was getting late, and soon you said goodbye and parted ways. The next day would be the first day of the tour and it would hopefully be amazing.

You slept well that night. Morning light soon came into your window and without hesitation, you turned off your alarm clock, eager to start the day. You checked your phone- finding a text from Eddie.

It was great to spend time with you last night. Eager for tonight. Let's rock!

His text made you smile, and you texted him back.

Can't wait for tonight. It's going to be the most metal show ever! :)

Eddie soon read your text, eager to see you again. Getting a good morning text from you was the best way to start his day, and you felt the same way about him.

After the concert, there would be a meet and greet. As the manager, you had to run that, but hopefully, it would go by well without a hitch. Beautiful women who were around were sure to be throwing themselves at Eddie. At least those that would give him their numbers. He was your coworker though. You had no right to get worked up about this. You wanted to look out for Eddie. You didn't want him to get used by any woman. Spending more time with him was all you wanted, and if anything more happened between the two of you, then so be it. Everything was going to work out and your dream job was starting today. You needed to be focused, but hopefully, later there would be time for some fun and getting to know Ed's better. As for Eddie, he was glad to have a dedicated person to be Corroded Coffin's tour manager. With you, he had just that.

chapter 2 title and preview: rock n roll all nite

Summary- Corroded Coffin put on their first concert of the tour. After Eddie has a fun night at the show he seeks comfort in someone else but realizes he needs you.

The club was one of the nicest you had ever seen. Everything about being there felt like home to Eddie. Playing gigs and living it up every night as a rockstar was his calling. His life revolved around Corroded Coffin, and his band meant everything to him. Without his bandmates, he wouldn't be where he was after so many years of putting both his heart and soul into his music. The hard work paid off, and he could launch a successful musical project even with all the turmoil of his past and being the town freak. Saving Hawkins from the likes of Vecna, and all the destruction that came from Hawkins' lab- he still had received no acknowledgment for any of it. Left for dead in the upside down, he eventually made his way out of the other side alive by some miracle. After extensive healing, he made a full recovery and healed. Music kept him going. Tonight was special. Type O Negative was one of the most respected bands from the east coast and Brooklyn. Being around the band and finally meeting them was one of Eddie's best experiences. Peter Steele was an influence of his. Doom Metal meant a lot to Eddie, with his favorite band being Black Sabbath. They were also the biggest influence on Peter and Type O Negative. The day had finally come that they would play a show- a co-headliner no less with these doom metal legends. The soundcheck went by without a hitch and everyone had a good time. You had the best view and once they had played through a few of their big hits; they took a short break before the VIP guests would arrive. Most of the tour had been a sell-out already, with the meet and greets sold out.

The meet and greets were very exclusive, but Eddie was going to meet every fan individually, along with Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. Everyone arrived in a timely fashion. To no one's surprise, at least half of the guests were women. All of them were so pretty. No doubt Eddie would have a groupie or two, maybe even more tonight. As a manager of the band, you had to be professional. Some girls had him sign their boobs, which was nothing new for him as to be expected. Many had magazines and posters to sign and when you took their group pictures, some women hugged him. The women were at least classy enough to not flash anyone.

One woman had fan art for Eddie and she got a backstage pass from him. Everything about Eddie was charming, so it was no surprise this was happening. Once the meet and greet ended, you accommodated all the guests back outside and assured them they would have an early entry. Eddie was too old for all the groupie stuff, but he wanted to meet every fan that wanted to meet him.

the rest of this chapter and the full 21 chapter series can all be found on ao3

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[hard-times-paramore]

Drive (2011) - An Autistic Reading

Have you guys ever watched this movie with Ryan Gosling? Did you know he's literally me. Hello, fellas, today I am going to talk about why I think Guy From Drive, the Protagonist of Drive, has this thang called autism.

Everything you see here is headcanon. It wasn't intentional on the movie's part. In fact, I know it and find it hilarious. Every writing choice in this movie that led it to be critically acclaimed as a sigma male film bro has only pushed this guy further into The Spectrum. Let's take a look at them.

The Jacket

You can't talk about Drive without bringing up Ryan Gosling's silvery embroidered scorpion jacket. This iconic costume design has him standing out in the crowd as the baddass that he is, a part of his personality and of the movie's visual design. He wears that scorpion jacket so often that it becomes his image in the movie's posters.

OR... It's his comfort clothing. This jacket gets progressively dirtier with blood as the movie goes forward and he does not take it out even when he has the chance to change. Because it's the right texture, it's comfortable and familiar. When everything is falling apart around him in the second half of the movie, that scorpion quite literally has his back.

The Gloves

We love a sexy pair of gloves. I like to think they have the same function, another comfort, since he's never caught driving without them on. Might be a sensory thing too, keeping things from touching his hands.

Which reminds me of this scene

This scene is very WOW. The SYMBOLISM. His hands are DIRTY because he is a CRIMINAL.

But he was also talking his way out of physical contact here.

The Brooding Attitude

Another thing you can't talk about this movie without bringing up is the fact the protagonist is Very Mysterious and Brooding and Quiet. Everyone wants to be as cool as he is with how Quiet and Mysterious he acts. I even saw people making fun at the fact that it takes him a good 30 seconds to answer anything addressed to him.

But to me, that was just screaming nonverbality. It's not even that he's an introvert, or awkward at socializing, since he happily seeks out Irene and her son Benício to chat with them. It's just that it's hard for him - the actual talking.

In this context, his monologue at the start of the film, which he repeats later on when he decides to help Standard, might be something he scripted, and rolls more easily off his tongue now.

People also point out his facial expression stays the same for the entire movie. He also often stares at everything in a very intense manner. It might be him being all baddass and calm and collected, or it might be that he just can't emote properly, something that happens a lot with autistic people. It's not like Ryan Gosling was being a lazy / bad actor, because he hinted microexpressions and acted with his entire body during the movie. A scene that definitely caught my eye was the one he was about to hammer a bullet into his enemy's face.

Sure, his face doesn't change even as he talks with the big baddy guy on the phone, but he's clearly angry to the point of twitching a little.

The Toothpick

I like that he had this little toothpick in his mouth all the time. He even asks Benício if he wants one, and the kid, thinking he's cool as hell, accepts so he can be like him. It's a nice little trait that adds extra personality to him.

It's also most definitely a stim.

The Cars

Last thing I have to add is the theme of the entire movie. This guy lives and breathes cars. He has three separate jobs and all of them involve cars. Every hobby and leisure activity he was portrayed partaking in the movie was in a car. He drives.

Cars are his special interest. We'll never know the choices that led him to his life of crimes, but we know he managed to include his favorite thing, the thing he loves and specialized on, into it. And he does a damn good job at it, his baddass movie protagonist-grade talent at being Mr. Drive.

Bonus: the theme song

Just cause "A Real Hero" by College is such an autistic song to me. Those lyrics about being "emotionally complex, in a grain of dystopic claims", all while the chorus repeats itself ad-infinitum, reassuring you that you've proven yourself to be a real human being (and a real hero). It's a common experience to autism, and I can confirm it, to feel alienated, like you're some sort of alien in a sea of normal people. The fact this song reassures me I'm human is very comforting.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[aliendeity]

had a dream that i owned this amazing scorpion jacket from the movie drive. i was wearing it out and elon musk came up to me and asked if he could take a picture of it because “drive was his favorite movie” and “he worked out to that movie every day” and i was like. um no, so he sued me

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 10: That's My Girl

If you need to catch up, here's the masterlist

Summary: Chrissy being a major wing-woman. Steve, not so much.

Small playlist for this chapter:

Love It If We Made It - The 1975

No One Like You - Scorpions

That Way - Tate McRae

Your Love - The Outfield

Warnings: Underage drinking, swearing, mention of a cut on Billy's lip again. I think that's it for this chapter honestly. Let me know if I missed anything. It is also currently 4:40 in the morning, so keep that in mind while reading as I just finished it. It is proofread, but by a sleep-deprived author.

Word count: 4.9k

Author's Note: So. I thought Your Love was released a year before it actually was. So there's that. We're just gonna pretend for the sake of this chapter that it was in fact released in time for this party because I made the outline before realizing but the song just fit so well I couldn't leave it out.

Jess looked into her mirror, scrutinizing every last detail of her reflection. She looked at her black turtleneck, then followed down to the black leather skirt and tights, which she threw on after realizing how cold it would be tonight. Her eyes then left the mirror and stared down at her black Docs, wondering if it was too much black. She looked at her jean jacket thrown messily on the bed, along with the other abundance of clothes she had tried on earlier, and figured that would be enough color, and then looked at her hair again, hoping the curls from earlier today would still hold. She leaned over her dresser and picked apart her makeup, wondering whether her light application of mascara and eyeliner was enough, beating herself for not learning how to properly apply eyeshadow before tonight. She looked down at her dresser and found her pink gloss and began to apply it as she heard a knock on her bedroom before it abruptly swung open. 

“You almost done? I just barely escaped your dad asking about every last after high school plan I have.” Steve was now closing her door, whispering so her father couldn’t hear him. 

“Does this look okay? Is it too little or too much or…” She looked at herself in the mirror again, lifting her leg slightly to check whether the skirt would ride up due to the lack of friction her tights gave. 

Steve barely looked over at her before he shrugged, “Yeah, Jess, it’s fine.”

“Just fine?” She then started turning around, looking at herself from over her shoulder. 

“You look great. Amazing. Fantastic. You’re gonna be the cutest girl there.” Jess stopped looking at herself and back at Steve, flashing him a stern look. 

“I’m being serious, Steve.” 

“Jess. It’s cute. Can we please go now? I’m trying to get some food before we get there.”

Jess sighed, realizing that she has spent far too long in her room at this point, and picked up her jacket, looking at her bed and deciding to deal with the mess later. “Alright, let’s go.” 

Steve and Jess hurriedly ran down the stairs and toward the front door, beginning to open it before her mother chimed in, “Be safe, both of you! No drinking!” This earns a snort from Stan, who was messing with the TV. 

“Sure Bev, keep telling them that.” He then turned to Jess and gave her a knowing look before turning back to the TV. “You two be safe. And just no drinking and driving, Steve.” Mrs. Logan rolled the newspaper in her hand before smacking the back of Mr. Logan’s neck with it. 

“You got it, Mr. Logan,” Steve chuckled, now opening the door. 

“Bye!” But Mrs. Logan was now scolding Mr. Logan, who was only laughing at her annoyed tone, still hunched over the television set, both too occupied to hear her, allowing both teenagers to slip out. Jess locked the door with her key and hurried to Steve’s car, not wanting to be outside longer than she needed to. As they began to leave her street, Jess looked past Steve at the Hargrove/Mayfield driveway, noticing that Billy’s Camaro was already gone.  

“So, what we getting?” 

The two settled on Wendy’s as it was the closest to Carol’s, and one of the only fast-food chains in Hawkins, and sat in the parking lot as they ate. Jess remembered the $5 in her wallet that she kept zipped in the inside pocket of her jacket, attempting to hand it to Steve, who looked at the bill and then up at her before refusing it. “Yours wasn’t even that much.” He then turned back to his double burger, and continued to eat it, shaking his head as she tried once more to give him the $5. 

“Gas too.” 

“No,” he said with his mouth full, and, sighing, she put the bill back in her wallet, again. 

When they were done eating, Steve began to drive to Carol’s, popping a breath mint when they pulled up. There were about a dozen cars on her street, teenagers littering her front yard, which surprised Jess, considering how cold it was outside. But the beer bottles and red cups in each of their hands and along with enough cigarettes lit to catch the Perkins’ house on fire explained the desire to be outside. “Need one?” 

Jess took a mint as well, eyeing the blue Camaro as she did so. Seeing it made her stomach flip, causing her to look down at her outfit one last time before finally exiting the BMW. Once they began to walk closer to the house, they could clearly hear the blaring music, which Jess was sure was obnoxious to the rest of the neighbors. And she was equally as sure that Carol didn’t give a single shit. 

As she and Steve entered the house, Jess’s eyes began to wander the room. She had yet to see Billy but immediately saw Chrissy with Alicia, both in the kitchen. Once Jess got closer, they both waved them over. 

“Hey girls, looking gorgeous as ever.” 

Jess shot her head to Steve, hair whipping over her shoulder. “Oh, and I just looked fine?” 

“I said the word gorgeous at least once.” 

“Okay.”

“Your skirt is so cute!” Chrissy ran her finger over Jess’s leather skirt before looking back up at her, sipping from her cup as she did. 

“Is Chrissy Cunningham actually drinking tonight?” Jess looked at her friend amusingly before Chrissy gave her a look into her cup, which ended up just being filled with pop. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” She smiled at Jess before turning back to Steve, “Have you seen Heather?” 

“No. I. Have. Not.” Steve then slowly turns away from the kitchen and towards the living room, where he finds her, sporting a perm and a color block jacket, which catches Steve’s attention, smirk now evident on his face. “And now I have.”

Jess rolls her eyes at him. It took Steve the whole month of November to get over Nancy, constantly saying that Jonathan was good for her and that he was happy for her, which never fooled Jess. And then he began to pointedly take an interest in Heather. She wasn’t sure whether it was an actual crush or distraction, but it was much better than hearing him going on and on about how Nancy’s interest in becoming a writer matched with Jonathan’s love for photography, making them perfect for each other, or how, at the end of the day their breakup was entirely mutual, so she never brought attention to the fact that he occasionally compared her to Nancy and let him take solace in the belief that he was finally over his heartbreak.  

He continues looking over at her before turning back to Jess, “Need a drink?” He then takes her by the hand and leads her to the punch bowl, looking back at Alicia and Chrissy, “Be right back.” He dips two cups in the bowl before handing one to Jess, shaking punch off his hand as she grabs the one handed to her. Jess looks toward the back door to then find Billy, who was standing with Katie, Jane, and Tina, all three of them hanging to every word that came out of Billy’s mouth. He was leaning closer to Katie, seemingly more interested in chatting her up that night, to Jane’s dismay. The realization that she may run into him tonight made her nervous again, downing her first drink of the night, making her shudder as it tasted like straight vodka, then dunking her cup in the bowl again for another. 

“Woah, settle down there, kid.”

“Okay, mom.”

“Just don’t want you to go all Wheeler on me.” Jess furrows her eyebrows at him, not taking a sip from her second drink before he explained himself. “Don’t know what I’d do if I found out we were bullshit too.” He begins to laugh this off as a joke, but he looks uncomfortable as the last words left his lips, looking as though he was replaying what happened at the last party he attended, causing Jess to pull him in a one-armed hug, keeping her drink up and steady to not spill it. 

“You know you’re way too cool to ever get me to say that.” Jess lets go of the hug before looking Steve in the eye, “I mean it.” 

Steve hits her shoulder in response, breaking eye contact as he does. “Ah don’t get all weird on me now.” He then looks back up, a grateful expression replacing his troubled one, “I need a drink.” He began to lift his cup to his lips. 

“I’ll drink to that.” Jess smiled, sticking her tongue out slightly, her teeth biting down on it so it didn’t go too far, and clanked her plastic cup with his before they both drank. He took another swig from his cup before looking back over at Heather dancing wildly with her friends. He then looked back over to Jess, who had already read the question from his look before he was able to ask. “Go on, I got Chris and Alicia.”

“You sure?”

“Go. But you better tell me if I need to get another ride.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“I’m sure Chrissy would take me home,” She then looked back over at her friend, who was still nursing her soda, “I mean, it’s not like she’ll be too drunk to.” 

Steve gave her cup one last cheers before he began strutting toward his current interest. Jess then walked back to her friends. As they continued to stay in the kitchen chatting, Chrissy began looking around. “Hey will you guys help me find Jas-“

“Ladies.” Jess felt someone standing behind her as Chrissy’s and Alicia’s eyes looked over her shoulders.

“What do you want, Hargrove,” Alicia snorted, already annoyed with his presence. She looked up above her glasses rim, waiting for an answer. Chrissy, however, didn’t need an answer, as she delicately sipped from her cup, which covered everything but her eyes as she began to eye Jess and then Billy, raising her eyebrows when her gaze would meet Jess’s. 

“Good to see you too, Spin.” Alicia rolled her eyes at the nickname. “By the way, that blonde in our History class is looking for you. You know, cute, glasses like yours, kinda short.” Alicia noticeably blushed at this, which made Chrissy shoot her hand to grab for her arm. 

“I’ll go help you find her.” She offered, winking back at Jess as she pulled Alicia away.

“Okay, then bye!” Jess shouted over her shoulder. She then looked back over at Billy, who was now in front of her, leaning against the kitchen counter with his left arm, his beer can in his right hand. 

“So, where’s Harrington hmm?” He asks this, acting like he didn’t just stand at the opposite side of the house, occasionally glancing up at her from his conversation, waiting for him to leave. Jess just nods over in Steve’s direction, him now making Heather giggle uncontrollably, flipping his hair for effect as he told whatever ridiculous story he was telling. Billy smirks at the sight of him flirting, slightly relieved. 

“I’m actually surprised you’re associating with me outside of school, Hargrove.”

“I see you almost every day after school.”

“Yeah, to do homework.” 

“What. I thought we were friends now?” His smirk crooked to his right, still avoiding the healing spot on his lip, tightening his grip on his can while leaning in. 

Jess shoots a glance at Steve again before looking back at Billy, but he notices and looks over at Steve as well, much longer than Jess did. His smile shifted, now downturned. “He looks a little too busy trying to get his dick wet to notice.” 

“No that’s not-“ Jess abruptly stops when Billy looks back over at her with his head now cocked to the other side, beginning to raise his eyebrow in anticipation of her lie. “Steve’s just skeptical of you. And I have to say, so am I…” 

“About what?” His voice changed from his usual teasing tone to one of annoyed confusion.

“It’s just, I’m surprised that you actually want to hang out with me here is all. I get wanting to be friendly as far as our project goes, but, this party, you could easily ignore me like you’ve normally done.” 

He laughed out once, a little harsher than intended. The number of times he’s watched her at parties, at school, at games, he forgot that no one else noticed. “You overthink shit, Jess.”

“Oh do I? I’m Steve’s best friend. You hate Steve. The end. Beside’s I’m-“

“You’re a lot more fun than you give yourself credit for.” 

“In a week, you’ve determined I’m ‘fun’.” Jess now sipped from her cup apprehensively. 

“I’ve known you longer than a week.” This made Jess quickly gulp down her sip before shaking her head in response.

“No. Not really.” 

“Eh.” He shrugs at her response, not willing to elaborate. “Well, I’ve liked this week.”

“Sure you have, Hargrove.” But Jess smiled at his confession, using her cup to hide the way the color in her cheeks changed, hoping that it could have been blamed on the alcohol if he noticed. 

Billy stared at her for a bit before pushing her cup down with his left index finger and looking into it. “Looks like you need a refill, Logan.” His smirk came back as he led her further into the kitchen, finding a beer can and cracking it open for her. Jess scrunched her nose at it. 

“I’m not really a beer kind of girl.” 

“Yeah well, based on how fast you downed your last two drinks, you may wanna slow down on the jungle juice.” 

Jess squinted her eyes at his statement, “Wait, how did you know-“ 

Billy quickly interrupted her, clenching his jaw, now annoyed at himself. “It’s either this or water, Logan.” Not willing to lose her buzz, she accepted the beer, sipping it, her mouth morphing with distaste. “Thatta girl.” They began to walk away from the kitchen and into the living room, talking about nothing, circling the room until they were back where Billy was standing previously, the back door open now, letting in much-needed cool air, Jess beginning to feel suffocated in the jean jacket she had on. It wasn’t an ideal spot for talking, as they were much too close to the stereo and were also met with the constant chanting of “Chug. Chug. Chug” coming from outside. As they continued their conversation, they began migrating closer together in order to hear better, occasionally having to repeat their sentences, practically screaming in the other’s ear. They continued this way until Tommy interrupted them. 

“Aye, B!” He hollered from outside, standing by a makeshift beer pong table. “Me and Carol versus you and Logan.” 

Billy licked his teeth in thought, “What do you say, Logan?”

The amount of alcohol in her made her slightly braver than she normally was, “What the hell.” 

“Alright,” He then turned to Tommy, “Get ready to get fucked up, Hagen.” 

“In your dreams,” Carol shot back. “We get first toss.”

“Why’s that?” 

“It’s my house,” Carol said simply and aimed for a red cup, all of which were already set up and filled most of the way with beer. When she missed Tommy shook his head.

“No babe, remember, the arch-“ 

“I swear to god, Tommy, if you talk about the arch one more time…” 

“Alright watch this.” Tommy then aimed and let go, watching it bounce with anticipation before making it into a cup as well. “Wooooo! That’s what I’m talking about!” He and Carol high-five as Billy takes the cup, and chugs it, winking at Jess when he was done. Billy then took the ball and effortlessly sunk it in one of the middle cups, making Tommy tsk in disappointment, taking the first cup for himself and downing it. 

“Alright, gorgeous, you’re up.”

Jess placed the ping pong ball in between her right index finger and thumb, carefully positioning her forearm up with the rest, and aimed for the middle, the ball bouncing off the rim of a cup once before landing in her targeted cup. “That’s my girl!” Billy exclaimed behind Jess, wrapping his arm over her left shoulder and squeezing her right shoulder with his hand, now holding his almost empty beer can with his right hand, pulling her back into his chest slightly. He then let go, gesturing for the balls to be returned to them. “Roll it back, Hagen.” 

“See that’s what I’m talking about, you see…” Carol shot Tommy a look of warning. Billy shot the ball and missed, Jess doing the same as Tommy grinned in satisfaction, you’re losing it, B.” Carol then took the ball and made it into the back corner cup after it bounced over many rims. When it was Tommy’s turn, his bounced over the rims as well, but eventually bounced too far left. 

“The arch, Tommy, the arch.” 

“Shut up, Carol.” 

They continued until Carol and Tommy had only two cups left, a significant amount less than Jess and Billy. As their remaining cups weren’t touching, Tommy looked down at them, ready to rearrange them for Jess as she prepared to shoot the ball. 

“Leave it.” Jess said then pointed at the one more to the left. “Hawaii.” She then began aiming at the cup she pointed at, which earned a stunned look from Billy, unaware that she knew of any other rules of beer pong besides ‘make it in a cup’. 

Tommy began drumming rapidly on the table, adding to the suspense, Carol joining in. Jess sat there for a moment longer as she lined up her shot carefully, remembering the exact way Steve would, and let go at the top of her toss, watching it swish into the cup she called. Billy then banged on the table “HELL YEAH, LOGAN.” 

“Fuck. Fuck.” Tommy handed one of the cups to Carol, them both downing their drinks around the same time. “Aye, Tina’s having a New Year’s thing, I wanna rematch then.” He then pulled Carol closer by the shoulder, making her cuddle into him before she realized he was beginning to coach her on her toss again. 

“Oh my god, Tommy.” She rolled her eyes, her smile still displayed on her face.

As they continued to walk away, Billy turned his attention to Jess, “Where the hell did you learn to play like that?”

Jess simply shrugged her shoulders, “Steve.” Billy shook his head, looking back into the house as he found Steve still chatting with the same girl from earlier. 

“Well, I guess there’s one thing pretty boy is good for.” Jess shoved his shoulder softly. She was now feeling the effects of their game, her head beginning to feel slightly lighter while her feet were a bit more of an effort to move. Billy noticed this as well, watching her before asking, “You need some water or something?” 

“Nope,” she responded, popping the p. 

“Yeah, okay.” He began to look inside again, thinking grabbing her a snack would be a good idea. “Let’s head back.” She did as she was told, making her way to the kitchen with Billy, coming across the bowl of punch again and beginning to take another solo cup from the stack next to the bowl. “Woah there-“

“You said I could have more when I was done with my beer.” 

“I did not say that.”

“Well, anyway.” She dunked her cup in, disregarding the look of disapproval from Billy. He then led her over to the dining room, where he sat her down at the table. There were only a few people there, and once he looked around the room, he looked back down at Jess. 

“Stay right here, I’ll be back.” He then beelined for Carol’s pantry, settling on an unopened bag of cool-ranch Doritos before heading back to Jess, who was still sitting in the chair he left her. He sat next to her and plopped the bag down on the table before setting his beer can down and opening the bag for her. 

“Oh my gosh I looove Doritos.” She was now slurring her words slightly, causing Billy to glance in her cup, noticing it was already halfway gone. He pulled the cup away slightly and pushed the bag closer, Jess now fully focused on the chips. He occasionally took a couple from the bag as they talked, Jess laughing at random points in their conversation, making Billy smile and shake his head, entertained by watching her in this state. He was constantly aware of the fact that school made her uptight at times. She always held her shoulders higher, stiffer, than most. And though he chalked it up to her nearly perfect posture, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was due to stress. But here she was, now slouched over the table, her hair no longer in perfect curls, gorging her way through a bag of chips and smiling at his every word, without a care in the world who watched.  Billy opened his mouth to speak until he was interrupted by the song switching, causing Jess to gasp. 

“Billy! I love this song!” Billy turned his head to the direction of the music, unable to recognize it at first. 

…On a vacation far away. Come around and talk it over.

“This song? You like this song?” When Jess nodded excitedly, Billy laughed out, “Do you know what this song’s about?” 

“Ugh, don’t ruin it! Come on!” She folded the Doritos bag and wiped her hand on her skirt before pulling Billy up, grabbing her drink in the process. Billy wasn’t much of a dancer at parties. He normally stood back, people watching, or got incredibly hammered to the point where he would knock out in his car for hours before driving home in questionable condition, but the way Jess pulled Billy up, still keeping the same elation from when the song first started, there was no way he would be able to say no. Not to her. He left his now empty can on the table as he followed her back to the living room, but instead of going toward the back, they were now heading toward the middle, where everyone seemed to share the same excitement for this song.

You know I’d do anything for you.

Jess began swaying to the beat of the song, mouthing the words as she looked back at Billy. “Oh come on, don’t be a party pooper.” She then sloppily grabbed his hand as he smiled at her with amusement, watching her sway his arm back and forth as she began to dance again. He continued to watch her, unable to find anything more enamoring as his hand moved with her own. 

Try to stop my hands from shakin’ ‘Cause somethin’ in my mind’s not makin’ sense.

His body began to sway slightly with her, though not too much to lose sight of her. She then faced him again, beaming at him before taking another sip of her drink. She began to lean forward slightly, causing Billy to wrap his hand around her waist, catching her from falling. He then took the cup from her and began drinking from it himself. 

“Hey! I’m not done with that!”

“Yeah,” he looked down at her, “Yeah you are.” He continued to drink from it until it was empty before she had the chance to complain any further. When he was done, he crushed the cup, smirking at her as he did so, but as he continued to look down at her, with her looking back up at him, he felt his chest tighten, his smirk slowly dropping as his eyes darted from her eyes, down to her lips and back up. But she was drunk, he knew this. And unfortunately, he knew they probably wouldn’t be here, dancing like no one was watching, if she wasn’t. He looked into her eyes again as he began to open his mouth when he saw a hand grab for Jess’s shoulder. 

X X X X

Steve kept his attention on Heather, sipping on his water as he would be driving shortly. She was currently telling him about the new dog her family got when another song flipped on. 

Josie’s on a vacation far away

“You wanna dance?” 

Of course Steve wanted to dance. He began to lead her to the center of the room effortlessly twirling her around as she giggled. He gulped the rest of his water down, making sure he wouldn’t accidentally spill some on her, and then pulled her close, speaking in her ear so she could hear him. 

“Hey, so I was thinking…” However, he didn’t get to finish his sentence as he glanced up and saw Jess, stumbling into Billy as he grabbed her waist. 

Nope nope nope nope, absolutely not. Jess was obviously drunk, and of course, there was Billy. 

“Uh, hey, uh it’s getting kinda late. Would it be okay if I call you? Tomorrow? Cool?” He tried his best to look at her, but his attention kept gravitating toward Jess, now inches away from Hargrove.

“Uh, I, I guess…”

“Cool, I’ll see ya later,” Is all Steve said as he began to take off, leaving a very confused Heather to look around the room, unsure of what to do next. He quickly squeezed through the crowd and finally reached Jess, tugging at her shoulder lightly before shooting a look of disapproval to Billy. The song was nearing its end as Jess looked over her shoulder to see Steve. 

“Oh, hey Steve!” 

“It’s time to go, Jess.” He was now looking down at her, his tone urgent.

“Wait, no! I’m having fun-“ 

“Nah, he’s right, Logan.” Both of them now shot their attention back at Billy, Jess’s look holding disappointment while Steve’s held skepticism, fully expecting some kind of fight or pushback from Hargrove. “I was about to head out anyways.” He then took a Red out from his pack and put it between his lips before looking at the front door. He took in Jess’s face one last time before glancing at Steve, mumbling, “Get her home safe,” as he brushed passed him and exited the house. 

Steve squinted his eyes at his statement, annoyed he would say this. As if he wouldn’t have gotten her home safe. As if he cared that she got home safe. He shook his head in irritation as he lead them out of the house as well, waiting for Billy to leave first, not wanting the awkwardness of walking together. 

---

The drive back to Jess’s home was mostly silent until Steve decided he could no longer bury his questions. “So how the hell did you end up with Hargrove of all people? What happened to Chrissy?” He was still vexed at what he witnessed, more with Hargrove’s audacity than with Jess’s stupidity.  She just shrugged, slumping in the now leaned-back passenger seat. He kept glancing over at Jess, trying to keep an eye out on the road, but more interested in her response. “Am I gonna have to keep a better eye on you now?”

“He’s not that bad you know.” 

Steve sharply exhaled from his nose. “My face would say otherwise.” 

“Steve.” She was now looking at him, eyes seemingly sobering up as she confided in him, “I promise, it’s not all bad in there.” He kept his eyes on hers as much as he could while driving, trying to decipher what she meant. He saw the glimmer she held in her eyes when she knew something he didn’t, the glimmer begging him to trust her. It was the same look she held when she talked him through the upside-down for the first time. He continued to hold the stare, waiting for the glimmer to waiver, and when it didn’t, he simply nodded his head in resentful acceptance. 

“Whatever you say.” 

“Do you hate me?” Her eyes were losing their sobriety again as she asked this, her head slightly swaying in the seat as the car continued to move. 

“Never.” 

When they pulled into Jess’s driveway, he parked his car and helped her to her door. “You know the drill, waive to me from the window when you get to your room. And then go to sleep.”

“Yup.” She unlocked the door, then locked it again. He then made his way back into his still-running car, looking up at her bedroom through his passenger window when he saw her open her windowpane. “Bye, Steve!” she shouted while waving down at him, causing him to rapidly gesture at her to shut the hell up. He shook his head in disbelief as he watched her smile brightly and closed her window, pulling the blinds closed. He waited till he saw her light turn off before pulling out of her driveway and driving back him. He kept replaying Jess’s words. It’s not all bad in there. But before he could dissect her statement further, he looked to his left to find Billy leaning against his own car, staring in the direction of Jess’s house, causing Steve to slow down slightly. Billy seemed to notice, nodding his head at Steve before flicking his cigarette to the pavement and stomping it out, walking along the side of his house afterward. Whatever you say, kid. 

@nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @hml-main

[preciadosbass]

26/8/24 [skipped yesterday as there wasn’t much info, draft from monday — key + significant photo at end]

woke up at 9 and got ready as soon as possible to meet my extended family early at breakfast as today was their last day. i said goodmorning to boris, got dressed into my skinless outfit [skinless shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, wooden bracelet, panic! at the disco bracelet, mcr bracelet, two spiked cuffs [one with three rows and shorter spikes, the other with two rows and much longer spikes], my diy can tab bracelet, a leather skull-lined adjustable bracelet, taxidermy scorpion necklace, thrifted necklace with all/matching colours of my skinless shirt [the beads look like mushrooms], knee high converse, my mcr danger days zip up, and my pin decorated jacket.] and then packed my bag.

me, my parents and my sister met the rest of our family at our restaurant at around 9:30/40. i sat next to H, the other people on our table were RY, E, and R. i had a couple bowls of cereal for breakfast, and then had to move tables as RY had pancakes [ew] - after my food, while i was just sitting waiting for everyone else, i was sent a picture of boris by my hairdresser who is looking after him. it was an image of him and the hairdressers daughter that came along to meet him. its really nice that even though we’re away, boris still has company. i just hope that it isn’t stressing him out. we left breakfast at approximately 10:40 and headed to the fair.

once arriving at the fair, we established that most of us were having a go on the go karts and organised who was going with who. i decided to go with R as he drives fast normally, and my sister chose to go with RY; the rest went as singles. we spent about 30 minutes queuing and while doing so, i spoke to my dad & R about boris and the rollercoasters at thorpe park. i’m so excited to go with my cousins in september. anyway, me and R got on a green double kart and everyone else loaded themselves into their own. the doubles are allowed to go onto the track first, and as RY + my sister were infront of us in the queue, they were sat in the kart infront of us. they rolled onto the track and the lap started with our karts being neck and neck.

R’s legs didn’t even fit in the car and were getting stuck on the pedals but we ended up overtaking before the second lap started. my grandad and his fiancé were behind of us most of the time, and R’s girlfriend [E] was to our front. now, with this subject, i cant really get anything accurate from this point as the videos of us gokarting don’t show who we overtook next/i cant remember. so i’m going to skip to the end of the ride. right before it ended, we ended up overtaking E somehow, and had RY and my sister right on our tail. we both thought that we were going to be overtaken, but the staff cut the engines as the ride was over so they weren’t able to go past us.

there were a few other people unknown to us on the track, and they were getting mad at R for being at the front the whole time XD, at least we won! now we both just have to deal with my sister going on about it for years /hj - R in particular has a 10 year streak of winning go karting at this resort which i only was informed of after we won, so i’m glad i picked him. however this was the first time he’s been back at the resort since he was my age. he’s also really funny with things like this. the way he narrates things is just hilarious and he dosent even intend it to be half the time. after taking some family photos we all split up. my aunt and uncle said goodbye and walked back to their car, D [cousin #3] said goodbye and went off to the swimming pool to hopefully watch L and W [his partner and her son], and me, my parents, my sister, RY/H and R/E made our way to the beach at 12.

to get out of the fair, you can go through the arcade so my sister made my parents give in to letting her have another go of that minecraft game. [photo at end, ignore the blur my hair looked bad] afterwards, i went up to the beach a separate way from everyone else in order to not get my knee high’s sandy, but i ended up taking ages. once i’d finally gotten onto the path around the beach, we all started walking down it. everyone was just speaking about how our break has been and how much the resort has changed vs when my cousins were my age. i unfortunately didn’t get to change into my knock off converse’s before going to the beach, otherwise i would’ve been able to get some pretty shells.

the walk across it is very long, so i’d say we got about a quarter way down. we walked until we saw the two story accommodations and then headed back. once we did, RY, H, E, and R split off to go home, my mum and sister went off somewhere or another, and me and my dad went back to our chalet. on the way back, there’s an example of what the chalet’s would’ve looked like 80/90 years ago. so i went over to that and had a look inside. they for some reason look [design wise] better than the ones currently. however there’s not much to the interior/uncomfy looking beds/no bathrooms.

i attempted to write a little bit of my journal upon getting into the room, but i ended up falling asleep almost immediately. i slept up until 3 and while doing so my dad went back over to darts and my mum & sister carried on doing their own thing. once i woke up, i got my swimming things ready and all of us [my immediate family, now that everyone else has left] walked over to the swimming complex. there wasn’t any queue today as most people were leaving and the people arrived were still on their way so i was able to get undressed and just hop it within a small matter of time. i once again put on my swimming costume plus shorts and a t shirt.

the first thing we did was queue for the family flume. we queued up until we could pick up a ring and then my mum spoke to the lifeguard about the access thingy. it turns out that i was wrong and they do have an access organisation, they just don’t really talk about it. the way it works is they radio the person up top where you actually get into the slide, and you just make your way to the front of the queue. since the last time we’ve come to this resort, they’ve changed how many people you can have inside a ring at a time. it used to be four so all of us could ride together, but it’s now three. my mum offered to take a blue ring by herself so me, my sister and my dad could go together.

none of us officially agreed because we felt bad that she had to be alone, but we got to the front of the queue regardless. my mum went first, and we followed after she’d come out of the end. i resulted in getting absolutely soaked as the ring tuned right before you get off right where the largest body of water is. its been ages since we’ve been on a flume as a family [sort of, as my mum couldn’t be with us] so it was nice. i think i found it even fun-er as i genuinely couldn’t see where on earth i was going. afterwards, we queued up for the outside rapids. i say queued, but everyone just went in straight away.

i was freezing, mostly likely because my shorts & t shirt hold whatever temperature it is a lot more than just a swimming costume. i wanted to enjoy it but i couldn’t focus on anything other than how cold i was and how weird my throat felt from the stuffiness inside. my sister and dad tried doing our little game where you aim to be the last one out and everyone else tries pushing you/dragging you down the last drop, but i just slid down with my mum. hopefully another time it’ll be better weather and i’ll be able to play properly. i followed on with jumping into the adult pool while waiting for my sister and dad to come out of the rapids.

we barely stayed in there until we went over to the wave pool to see if it was working. it wasn’t the last time we came and it unfortunately wasn’t this time either. but there is still a small cascade of water that feels like what you’d imagine chocolate coming off of a chocolate fountain to feel. afterwards, we went round to the indoor river rapids. we went round two of three times, we’ll at least i did, until we went into the changing rooms. my dad found the locker and got everything out and i got dressed again. when id finished and came out of my stall, my mum and sister were gone. my sister went off somewhere so we had to wait until we could go to dinner.

when she finally reappeared we quickly walked back to the chalet so i could get my bag and brush my hair. once id finished and my sister finally let us leave the room [she wanted me to go to arcade with her], we went over to dinner. i had the stereotypical autism dinner [iykyk] checked on boris via my dad’s camera. i went back from dinner early and i stayed in my parents room for a while while scrolling on various platforms. once my parents arrived back, we set off to a show. we got into the correct venue and managed to get a seat right at the front to the left of the stage.

the show was a comedic ventriloquist performance. the guy had been on britain’s got talent before and got to the finals. i thought that the personality concepts for each puppet was good, but i don’t think that his jokes came across in a way that made them as funny as they could’ve been. the crowd was a little dead and my parents said they agreed but i still feel guilty for not being keen lmaoo but i don’t think it helped that i was really tired. i could barely process anything he was saying. during the show, i got a text from my aunt. it was a picture on boris outside, which obviously made me so happy. but near the end of the show, i realised that he’s outside - on the driveway; alone. so i started getting really worried.

conveniently, my aunt was on her way back to our house to get him inside as he wasn’t having it earlier. i got a text right before we started walking back to room saying that he’s inside and having his dinner followed with a picture of him eating. which was such a relief. i stayed in the chalet until 9:15 when i came along with my parents to see the light show that i also saw last night. i decided to go for half an hour so i’d have enough time to write this journal before having to do my questions about boris. the sound was better this time round as we were slightly further back and more towards the middle. and for some reason there was more cool lights, but i’m not complaining. the actual show started at 9:30 and i left to go back to the room at 10.

when i got back, i scrolled some more on tiktok and looked through some more jackass pictures on pinterest. when my parents got back, i scrolled through all of the pictures of boris on my phone which took at least half an hour. after, i wrote this journal, got undressed into my onesie at 12:20 and eventually finished asking my parents questions about boris at 1. i said goodnight to boris through a picture of him and went to sleep at 1:40.

🗝️ — boris/my cat, questions about boris/i ask my parents questions about my cat to verify he's okay + will be okay in the morning. its a compulsive thing and i'm hopefully going to be tested for OCD in the future.

have a good day/night O_o

[drivinmeinsane]

The Way You Stare

※ Driver (Drive) x Ken (Barbie) ※

{ masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: Ken has never learned the importance of being patient. His efforts to be the sole recipient of Driver's steady focus earn him a hard and frustrating lesson from a man who is not very composed himself.

※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Edgeplay, Cum Eating, Light Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Face-Fucking, Ken has glittery cum (glizz), Glove Kink, Blow Jobs

※ Word count: 4,817

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

※ Author's Notes: Back again on my bullshit. I can't seem to stop thinking about Ken and Driver.

The television casts a flickering glow over the intimately small room. Dazzling shades of colors from the screen paint every reachable surface with watercolor hues. A lighthouse beacon in all the muted chaos is Driver. The man sits at the folding table in the apartment’s single chair. The small table is crowded with his current project. He is curled thoughtfully over the carburetor he’s working on, peering through the magnifier of his lamp. While he thinks, he flips his socket tool between his fingers. The rhythmic motion is soothing to watch. It makes Ken think of something else that the other man’s hand could be doing instead.

Ken really is not sure what the other man is doing exactly despite it being explained to him earlier in the evening, but regardless, he can’t tear his eyes away from him. He scrutinizes every detail, every movement of his hands, every shift of the muscles under his blue shirt. The harsh, white gleam of the LED light illuminates the mechanic’s face in a way that has Ken shifting uncomfortably in his seat on the worn couch. The television has become a secondary thought, something that was supposed to keep him distracted. Driver had gestured to the couch some hours ago, while the sun was still setting, and Ken is finally tired of entertaining himself. He knows the quietly working man doesn’t have a job tonight. There have been no phone calls to be answered on a burner phone, no monologues given in that deceptively lazy voice. He’s wholly unoccupied by anything more important than a hobby that he has already spent ages on. Ken personally thinks that Driver is past due to divert his attention to something more… pressing. 

He lets himself sigh loudly over the low murmur of the television, hoping to garner attention. Driver doesn’t so much as twitch at the intrusive sound. Ken seals and tosses the bag of pecans that he’s been steadily working through onto the couch cushion beside him. The nuts rattle aggressively in their pouch. He’s not hungry anymore, not when he’s been driven to distraction. He lets his head lull against the leather couch. His hands find their way to the front of his pants. His fingers deftly pop the button and unzip the fly. He drags them off his legs with little huffs and moans, fabric rustling noisily. He’s stripped down to his thong and his unbuttoned, collared shirt. The apartment’s air is cool on his newly bare legs and he shivers. 

Driver’s jacket is folded haphazardly over the arm of the couch. The fabric shines like a star in the night sky, twinkling with the parade of lights from the television across the way. He brushes curious fingers over the scorpion embroidered on the back. It’s bumpy under his exploratory touch. He has half a mind to press his face into the silky material and find his release with his own hand. It would only be a pale substitute for the real thing, for the man seated mere feet away. The weight of the other man’s body, the calloused hands, the perpetual smell of oil and cheap soap clinging to his flesh; Ken wants it all. He probably wants too much. He always has. It’s his fatal flaw, the one that made him unsuited to Barbieland. 

He must make a noise that cuts through the stunt driver’s focus because he shifts to look over his shoulder at him. Driver squints into the relative darkness outside the influence of his table light. He takes in the way that Ken’s hand is lingering on the golden arachnid, and he traces the lines of his exposed legs before pulling away to meet Ken’s pleading stare. There’s a questioning flicker in those blue depths before he turns back to fine-tuning the air and fuel ratio. Ken feels a twist in his stomach. He’s trying to be patient, he really is. Driver’s unwavering dedication is something that he both loves and hates. Loves it when he’s the object of all that attentiveness, hates it when he’s not. 

The television drones on by the bed, Ken weakly tries making commentary about it. The other man doesn't so much as look at him again. There’s no hum of acknowledgement either. Ken decides that maybe he can start to entertain himself with the hopes that Driver will take over. He gropes at himself with an inexperienced hand. His touch doesn’t feel nearly as good as the other man’s would. Rocking up against his flattened palm does little but frustrate him enough to let out a whine that also gets no response. He’s utterly and thoroughly blocked out. The feeling it gives him is enough to finally urge him off the couch. He approaches the mechanic, hovers a hand over his shoulder. He wants to touch him, but this way won’t be enough. His tongue passes over his lips, tasting the fruity flavor of the product he’d glossed them with hours ago in the hopes that Driver would notice and be driven to distraction. It hadn’t worked, but he had an inkling of what might. 

With a confidence he doesn’t feel, he gets to his knees on the carpet. He fits himself under the folding table, careful to not hit his head on the underside of it. The last thing he wants to do is make a mess and destroy the other man’s concentration with a clumsy mistake. No, he wants to break that concentration in a way that results in him getting those meticulously steady hands on his body. He puts his hands on Driver’s thighs, right above the hinge of his knees. A little applied pressure gets those long legs to spread wider, enough to make room for Ken to shuffle forward between them. There’s no resistance. Either Driver is too wrapped up in his work to notice, or he’s willing to accommodate Ken’s desires. He hopes it’s the latter. It makes him feel special. His heart is hammering in his ears as he leans in to start mouthing at the seam of Driver’s jeans, right over the zipper. The lipgloss he’s wearing leaves tacky, shimmery impressions of his wandering lips, smearing it right into the coarse fabric. Everything that the other man owns has slowly been marked and tainted by errant flecks of shine. The possessive streak in Ken always preens at the sight of his iridescent glitter adorning Driver’s clothing, his hair, his skin . Ken has staked his claim over and over in a way that’s not able to be easily erased. It’s a neon sign blinking “ownership” in garish letters like the ones on Hollywood Boulevard where Driver had taken him one night when he didn't have a job. It feels good . 

Teasing the mechanic through the fabric of his pants is not enough. The faint twitches of the wheelman’s cock responding to his careful attention is too muted, too impersonal. Ken needs more. It’s an easy thing to undo the man’s belt, leaving it hanging from its loops, to slip the button free of the hole, to tug at the zipper until it glides down, to be granted with the sight of Driver’s sensitive skin. He appreciates that he doesn’t wear anything underneath his jeans, it makes these moments so much more satisfying. He slips his mouth over Driver’s cock, running his tongue along the soft flesh, savoring the moment. Driver jerks, hits his knee on the underside of the table with a clatter when he’s suddenly enveloped in the wet heat of Ken’s mouth. He doesn’t stop him, merely sinks lower in his seat to provide better access, and Ken grunts, pleased, around the gradually hardening dick he’s tending to. He hears a ragged breath, but also the noises of Driver resuming his work. Stung, he doubles his efforts; swirls his tongue over the slit, hollows his cheeks, and sucks like his life depends on it. In a way, it does. Who is he if he’s not wanted?

He’s midway through taking the now hard length down his throat, swallowing around the shaft when Driver weaves a hand into the blond strands of his hair and pulls him off. Strings of saliva and precome connect Ken’s puffy, pink lips to the flushed tip of Driver’s leaking cock before tension snaps the delicate threads. He sits back on his heels, panting. The grip the other man has on him is bordering on painful but it causes Ken to press his own hand against his crotch needily. The thong he’s wearing is doing little in the way of modesty. He’s already soaked through it. Arousal over this situation shoots through him like a succession of lightning strikes. 

“You gotta learn to be patient.” Driver’s voice is low, predatory. There’s a hungry edge to it that serves to remind Ken that the man holding onto his hair isn't nearly as mild as he seems.

His pulse kicks up a notch and he feels a boldness that is unlike him. Tonight has been about experimental bravado and the desperation to be desired. "Teach me then."

Driver stands up and kicks the chair he was just sitting on out of the way. It collides with the storage tub against the wall in a manner that is sure to get a complaint relayed to them by the building’s superintendent. His cock is jutting obscenely from his body, framed by his open jeans. Ken is not sure where to look. Any option is too overwhelming. He's not given any time to agonize over it because Driver hauls him out from under the table by his hair, forceful enough to nearly send him face first against the standing man's hip. The fingers knotted against his scalp coax his head back, bearing his throat in a submissive arc. His lips are parted, wet and inviting. He can't quite catch his breath. His knees feel raw from the friction against the carpet. He shudders at the sparks of pain. They're igniting something new in him. Something dark and unexplored.

He gets to his feet, prompted by a sharp tug upwards. The attempt to steady himself by placing stabilizing hands on the man holding him is thwarted when the man he’s trying to brace himself against takes a step back. The message is clear. No touching. 

The grip Driver has on him leaves him with no other desirable choice than to allow himself to be steered the few, meager feet to the apartment’s only bed. The air is knocked out of him when he gets unceremoniously bent over it, face to the burgundy bedspread, arms awkwardly out to catch himself. Driver lets go of his hair and Ken thinks the rough handling is over, but a thrill races through him when he realizes that it’s not. There’s the warning sound of the other man’s belt sliding through his belt loops before Ken’s arms are grabbed one after the other and firmly manipulated to be crossed over the small of his back. The leather that pins them into place and bites into the skin of his forearms is warm, heated from being nestled against Driver’s body all day, where Ken should have been if he’d had his way hours ago.

“Wait.” Driver says it as though Ken is a spoiled pet.

Ken sneaks a glance at him. He’s tucked himself back in his jeans, erection be damned, and is moving away from him to draw the cast aside chair back to the table and take a seat. Ken is stunned. A petulant whine builds in his throat until he’s nearly wailing. Driver gives him a flat look that promptly cuts it off. He’s left draped over the broken down, old bed that came with the place. It doesn’t help matters that the blanket and sheets were some untasteful castoffs that Driver had brought back from the thrift store. They were something that Ken would have never chosen because he likes to surround himself with pretty things, but Driver? Driver doesn’t care about the bedding. As he’d told him weeks prior, he wasn’t going to be seeing it or sleeping on it that much anyway; not when there was work and Ken himself to attend to. 

All the same, Ken has an admiration for things that he believes are beautiful, and nothing has captivated him the way that Driver does. Even now, the other man is all that he can focus on. He’s lit by bright light that matches the intensity of the heat pooling inside of Ken. Unconsciously, he grinds his hips into the edge of the bed. He falls into a rhythm, seeking relief while he watches the minute shifts in Driver’s expression as he works, the flex of his muscles when he flips the part he’s working on over, the way his fingers delicately make adjustments or pick up a tool. It’s too much and Ken has to close his eyes against the vision imprinting itself into his memories. The bed is creaking a noisy protest against his snapping hips, his mouth is open and he’s pushing out heaving breaths like he’s running a marathon. He’s so close, so, so, so close. If only he wasn’t bound and had a free hand to slip down past his waistband. 

His impending orgasm is ruined. Calloused hands are on him in a vicious motion. One is on the back of his neck, the other digging into the meat of his bicep. He’s forced to the floor, too stunned to protest. His face is pushed against the carpet, rubbed in like a dog being unfairly punished for messing on the floor.

“Told you to wait.” 

“ I couldn’t. It was too much.” Ken’s breathless and petulant. He’s so hard that he thinks any motion will be enough to send him over the edge. 

He gets rolled over onto his back, removing the chance of grinding his pelvis against the floor. His shoulders scream in protest at the treatment. His head is by the foot of the bed. He’s got a good view of the underside of the box spring, the ceiling, the patterned wallpaper, and most importantly; Driver’s face. His eyes look nearly black in the lighting, stark against the planes of his face. He looks one thread away from snapping and devouring Ken whole. Good. He wants to be on the receiving end of that all-consuming desire. He wants to be treated like one of those women in the old black and white dramas that play on the television sometimes; a pretty little thing, teased and manhandled until there’s only smears of mascara and delicate, pleading sobs.

Driver lowers himself to the floor alongside Ken and straddles him, his knees digging into his hips. Ken watches with hooded eyes as he inadvertently shifts against his crotch while reaching behind himself to tug the gloves free from his back pocket. He observes while Driver works those broad hands into the tight confines of the leather. The gloves are such a snug fit that they’re practically a second skin. He must be anticipating needing to have a firm grip on him. He drops back into a fully seated position, heavy against his dick. Ken’s sure that he’s on the verge of soaking through the fabric of Driver’s jeans. The front row visual of seeing the other man’s cock straining hard against his pants zipper has Ken groaning. His fingers clench into fists behind his back. If only he was allowed to touch.

He’s pulled away by thoughts of touching the other man when smooth leather covers and boldly caresses his chest. He arches into the touch, chasing the warm pressure when Driver threatens to remove his hand. He whines brokenly when his nipple gets rolled between the mechanic’s glove-clad fingers. He works him over even after both nipples are swollen and painfully hard. It’s enough stimulation to get tears trickling from the corners of his eyes. Each brush against his sensitive skin sends a stabbing need to his groin.

Every time he attempts to relieve the pressure in the lower half of his body, to rut up against the man astride him, Driver rises onto his knees to take away the maddening contact of his body. He doesn’t even leave his hands on Ken’s chest. It’s exquisite torture and Ken can’t stop the flood of incoherent pleas falling from his mouth.

Finally, Driver has enough of his begging. He grabs Ken’s chin, clamping down hard enough that his jaw aches. It’s a suffocatingly tight grip, but Ken is so desperate for something that he sighs right into it. He nearly goes cross-eyed when Driver points at him warningly.

“You're gonna be quiet. Gonna wait until I say so.”

Ken pushes his luck by defiantly rolling his hips against Driver’s and to his utter shock, receives a stinging slap across the face. The skin over his cheekbone feels hot and tight, faintly throbbing from delayed pain. He can’t help himself and sobs against the ironclad hold still on his jaw. His dick twitches and spurts. He’s sure the man on top of him notices. 

“Understand now?” Driver looks vaguely flushed in the low light. He’s unable to sit still, shifting uncomfortably in Ken’s lap with short, jerky movements of his pelvis. Despite telling Ken that he needs to learn to be patient, the other man isn’t very composed himself. 

Despite the hold Driver has on him, Ken manages a sincere nod. He’s eager for an overdue reward and the other man doesn’t disappoint. He releases his jaw, pausing to rub his fingers over the bruising skin to ease the ache. Ken’s eyes flutter closed at the pleasant touch and he gives a contented whine when Driver’s hands meet around Ken’s neck. Gloved thumbs overlap in the hollow of his throat. His pulse hammers against those steady palms. He’s dizzyingly breathless despite not being choked when the mechanic leans down to press a kiss against his pliant mouth. The brush of his tongue against Ken’s bottom lip is electrifying and he opens his mouth in a soft gasp. Driver chases the opportunity and Ken gets lost in the sensation of a warm tongue against his, teeth hungrily nipping and worrying his lips into swollen, used things. He mourns the loss of the man’s mouth against his when Driver pulls away as though it’s him that needs to be reminded of his place, taught the lesson of punishment and reward. Ken instinctively leans up to chase after the contact, but the gloved hands around his neck hold him steadily in place. He’ll only receive what Driver gives him. 

While he and the other man catch their breath, locked in a holding pattern. Ken is reminded of a less pleasurable sensation plaguing his body. His arms are filled with static and flashes of discomfort. The carpet is failing to provide significant padding and with the additional weight of another body astride him; it hurts. He can’t help but roll his shoulders in the effort to seek relief. His movements do not escape Driver’s attention, and for the first time tonight, an uneasy expression paints his face. His jaw is tense and he looks on the cusp of calling this whole game of theirs off. This evening has been nothing but uncharted territory. Just as Ken has been learning, so has Driver. Despite the quiet confidence he exudes, Ken knows that the wheelman is inexperienced. He’d been wanted by other people in the past, but he’d been too distant to engage with anyone beyond observation and mild (but not insignificant) touches. 

“I’ll stop if you tell me to stop,” he says, concern lacing his words despite his clear arousal. The pressure on Ken’s throat is a whisper. 

Ken doesn’t want him to stop. He wants to push and push and push until the man snaps. He’s dripping glittery precum and soaking through his thong at the anticipation. It’s exhilarating in a brand new way. 

"I can't learn if you stop,” Ken tells him. 

Driver nods and takes a deep breath. He shifts slightly, getting comfortable and pulls his intent stare away from Ken. His blue eyes latch onto the television, feigning interest. Ken can’t see it from his position on the floor, but regardless of whatever might be on it, he burns with frustration that Driver is back to ignoring him. If he lays still and doesn’t get impatient, Driver grinds down against him in a way that is too intentional to be absent minded. If he doesn’t remain relaxed, Driver trails a hand, almost tantalizingly, down his neck, over his collarbone, and down to the yielding tissue of his pectoral. The first time it happens, Ken thinks he’s getting a reward but instead, Driver takes his already overstimulated nipple between his fingers and twists hard enough to make him yelp before letting go to roll his toothpick idly between his lips. 

Ken can only take so much of this before he whines. “I’ve been good.”

Much to his frustration. Driver doesn’t respond. He’s been edged for so long he’s almost sick with the need to find release. 

“Haven’t I been good?” He tries again, a little more desperate. He’s almost hysterical. This earns him a glance and a thoughtful pause before the man speaks. 

“Have you?”

Ken nods frantically, chin colliding with Driver’s right wrist where his hand still lays casually resting on his neck. Driver doesn’t respond. Ken’s mind is blown. He’s never been made to wait this long. Driver gives him what he needs when he wants it or shortly after when the moment is more opportune. The other man’s patience lasts for about five minutes before he’s spurred into action. It is how he operates both behind the wheel and in the other areas of his life. Ken can’t help but wonder if Driver feels as tortured as he does in this moment. 

“Wanna finish what you started?” The question comes out of nowhere, said casually like the answer is of no real importance. 

“Yes. Yes. ” Ken does. He really does. 

Driver pops the button of his jeans and lowers the zipper. Ken already feels his mouth watering. They’re right back where they started in what feels like a lifetime ago. Driver’s cock is engorged and ruddy even in the scant light. There’s a drop of precum beading on the tip, threatening to fall onto Ken’s bare abdomen. It trembles precariously as the other blond all but crawls his way up Ken’s body until his thighs are spread wide to bracket his shoulders. Ken swallows thickly. The hands Driver places on either side of his face are almost tender. He presses his thumbs against the corners of his mouth and slips them inside. Ken opens his mouth to welcome the intrusion. The rich, earthy flavor of tanned leather bursts across his tongue when the other man slides his digits in deeper, spreading his jaws wide. He swallows again, his throat clicking. 

Driver rocks up slightly. The space between his eyebrows is furrowed slightly in concentration as he aligns the tip of his leaking cock with Ken’s waiting mouth. They share a moment of eye contact. Driver silently checks to make sure he has consent before he presses steadily into the wet heat. The musky taste of the other man consumes all his senses to the point that he hardly notices when Driver removes his hands from his face and puts his forearms on the bed to steady himself and relieve some of the weight on Ken’s body. The bound man closes his eyes and hums encouragingly around the cock resting in his mouth. He relaxes his throat. He wants him to move, to use him. He did use to be a doll, he still wants to be played with. 

He gets his desire when Driver plunges deeper and begins fucking into his mouth with steady thrusts of his hips. The sounds they make together are wet and obscene. Driver is breathing hard, teeth gritted. Ken, for his part, is moaning as loudly as he can despite his throat being otherwise occupied. The length brushing over his tongue and diving into his throat makes him wish he could wrap a hand around his own pressing need. He feels pressure building in his gut that only needs a little more encouragement.

A pat against his cheek informs him that the man using him is close. Driver comes with a shudder of his body. He lets out a loud growl as he does. The force of his release nearly chokes Ken and he struggles to swallow. He manages to get the salty load down regardless, he doesn’t want to disappoint. He sucks the slowly softening cock in his mouth, making sure to wring out every last drop the man produces. Driver catches his jaw and eases himself out. Ken’s lungs burn as he greedily sucks in mouthfuls of air. 

Driver dismounts, swinging his leg up and over Ken’s body. He’s tucked himself back in his pants, a much easier process now that he’s spent. Ken watches him with hazy eyes when he grabs hold of his waistband and pulls his thong down and off. Relief floods Ken’s body as his straining erection is finally freed from its tight, soaked confines. He forces himself to sit up and to wiggle backwards until he’s propped up against the foot of the bed. He watches Driver pass his tongue over his lips in anticipation of his next few actions. The other man lowers himself to the floor, stomach pressed against the carpet. Ken can’t hold back his whine when he feels Driver’s hot breath on his leaking dick. He nearly thrashes when he feels that leather clad grip encircle the base of his hard cock. The material is immediately coated in traces of glittery liquid. 

He’s incapable of muffling the noise he lets out when Driver makes direct eye contact with him and licks his cockhead. He’s almost hyperventilating by the time the other man fully takes him into his mouth and starts working at him with easy flicks of his wrist. The leather catches on the dry swaths of his skin. It’s just on the edge of being painful. He finds that he doesn’t mind the sensation, not when it’s accompanied by Driver’s blue eyes looking up at him in a way that says he needs reassurance that he’s doing a good job. 

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you .” The praises fall from his lips with each breathless exhale. His thighs are trembling with the effort to not thrust up into the other man’s mouth. The forearm pressing into his hip is a reminder to stay still and let himself be taken care of. Ken doesn’t want to spoil the lesson now. He would probably die if Driver pulled away as a punishment for any perceived impatience.

He gives himself over to the rhythm of Driver’s actions. He gasps out a warning before he comes. The other man pulls away, locking eyes with him as he lets Ken cover his face with his cum. Thick, glittery ropes spray over him. It’s all over his cheekbones and his swollen lips. The fluid is like molten silver, picking up colors from the flickering light of the television. 

“Come here. Please, come here.”

Driver obliges him, not pausing to wipe the shining mess from his skin. He guides Ken’s legs further apart to accommodate his mass as he heaves himself off the floor in order to kneel between his spread legs. The restrained man whimpers at the brush of Driver’s shirt covered abdomen against his spent cock as the other man presses in close. They’re nearly nose to nose, Driver’s breath is hot against his lips. Ken bypasses kissing him and swipes his tongue over the other man’s cheek instead. The salty taste of himself mingling with Driver’s sweat sparks a desperation to taste more. He licks Driver’s face clean, laps away every trace of his release but a few stray specks of glitter that will stay with the mechanic for days to come. Driver is still, carefully still, like a surprised predator. There’s a wet, uncertain look in his eyes. He looks as overwhelmed as Ken feels.

He reaches around Ken and undoes the belt holding his arms locked together behind his back. The flood of blood rushing back into his asleep limbs is painful. Static rolls under his skin as his arms come back to life. As soon as the belt is off and tossed to the side, Driver kisses Ken. Hard. He puts his right hand on the side of his face while he devours him, smearing Ken’s own cum on his face from where it still slicks down his gloved hand. Ken is panting and shaking. It’s all he can do to put his hands on Driver’s waist and hold on.

[mrcy-wrld]

random things I associate with beomgyu! (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡

it's nearing midnight, most of the city's attractions are closed, but you're nowhere near tired yet. exploring alleyways and streets, finding solace in the absence of urban city bustling. eventually settling on a small patch of grass under the bridge, the skyscrapers are about the size of your fingernail from this distance.

late night drives, music blasting through your car's speakers

honey rice cakes, pickled radish

the roses that grow from underneath sidewalk cracks

heaven and back - chase atlantic, blue jeans - lana del rey

embarrassed - bts, let me know - bts

serenading your partner with a guitar

matching scorpion bracelets

borrowing your partner's oversized clothes when sleeping over

firewood and the smoke that comes from a campfire

camping trips where you giggle under the covers of your bed rolls

endless teasing about the smallest things

funny lip-syncs of tiktok audios

cutting each other's hair as a result of one's impulsive decision

laying on the grass at night, identifying every constellation you can see at that moment, and the moon's current cycle

retro bikes with a basket in front of them, those chunky colorful ones

class clown

puffer jackets, leather jackets

blowing on dandelions

cuddling in the backseat of the car

messy morning hair, bareface

scrapbooks full of fond memories

i'll try and make some for the other members when i remember (lol) σ(≧ε≦σ) ♡

[beesmygod]

posts about boys pretending to be Ryan Gosling from Drive are on my dash and theyre so funny but they remind me of the day i took off to go enjoy myself in downtown Portland. i got in my car and drove to the trimet station and rode for 30 mins to a new cafe i wanted to try and got my order and sat down in front of the big window just to see a rose city taxi cab pull up and a 20 something year old man with the scorpion jacket and the gosling haircut got out of the drivers seat and came into the cafe. so i just went home after realizing i was at the boy LARP cafe and needed to leave before the tylers and travises showed up

[ken-dom]

Just a little spicy Driver concept I can’t get out of my head (nsfw)

Driver in only his scorpion jacket and driving gloves. Nothing else. Just… laid back on the bed waiting for you. Maybe he still has his sunglasses on, drags them down his nose slowly to check you out without saying a word