#do you think i signed up for every single fucking boy in high school to know my name so they could flirt with me?

[dimonds456]

Shoutout to the conventionally attractive people who are so fucking tired. To the attractive people who wish they weren't. To the attractive people who wish they were ugly to get people to stop being creepy around them.

To those who can never be confident in their own skin for more than a few minutes at a time because they know someone's looking.

Shoutout to the people who don't have anxiety, but still would rather live in a completely different body because it meant people would stop staring.

Shoutout to the attractive people who don't want to be.

[sserpente]

By Chance

Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.

The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.

The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.

The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…

A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!

Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving

A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.

The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.

You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.

“Cool bracelet.”

You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.

“Thank you.”

“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”

And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.

“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”

“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”

You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.

“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”

And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.

Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.

So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.

You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.

“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”

It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”

“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.

Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.

You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.

“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”

“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.

The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.

Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”

“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”

Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.

You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.

That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”

It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.

“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”

“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.

You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.

Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.

“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.

The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.

“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”

“I don’t think she will.”

“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.

“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.

“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.

“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.

It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.

Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.

“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”

“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.

As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?

Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”

“Sure. Bring it on.”

Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”

“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”

The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.

Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.

His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.

His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.

Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.

He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.

He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.

Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.

It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.

“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”

You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”

“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”

You hummed.

But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.

“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”

You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.

“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

“C’me here and prove it then.”

He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.

Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.

“I am craving ice cream right now.”

“You are?”

“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”

“At the mall?”

“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.

“We can always stop, you know that, right?”

“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.

You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.

“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.

You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.

It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.

Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”

The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.

Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.

After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.

And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.

When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.

You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.

“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”

He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.

“What? You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay but I need to get home.”

“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”

You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.

“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”

“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I’ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.

You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.

“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”

“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.

At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.

You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.

“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.

“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.

“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”

“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”

Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”

“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.

“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”

“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.

Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.

“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.

Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”

“Both.”

In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.

[starlightazriel]

bad boy az part 5

warnings: 18+ , 16/18 age gap, angst, death, overdose, heartbreak, self loathing/sabotage, childhood trauma/abuse, drug addiction/abuse, dark rough az, degradation, smut

masterlist

wc: 4.4k

Visiting my grandparents with a broken heart was like torture. Forced smiles and laughs at dinner, which they insisted had to be an outing every single night, since it wasnt often that we came to visit. Christmas dinner had been the only exception. I checked my cellphone relentlessly but there was absolutely no sign of him, not on social media, no texts... No calls... As if none of it had ever even happened, my only reminder that it was all in fact very real were the text conversations which I was now re reading over and over.

There was one particular day that I had been sick, and he sent me a photo of himself a bored solemn expression on his face, I had saved that one, not even believing how incredibly sexy he was. That someone that sexy was even talking to me, let alone fucking me.

you could have told me you were ditching today butterfingers. horrible without you.

im sick, im not ditching. it can't be that bad, you haven't even spoke to me at school all week azriel

i know im not good at saying how i feel but everything is better with you

I remembered the way my heart had nearly jumped out of my chest reading that. How could he say things like that but not want anything to do with a relationship with me? How could we have sex like that and him not feel anything for me?

Maybe it wasn't that, maybe he was just afraid of what he felt. I knew that he had been different around me, I knew that I had gotten a version of him that no one else did. Maybe he had just created that for me, maybe he just really needed help with his classes.

It didnt matter the reason. He was gone anyway, he had offered to be friends but ignored me, granted I had only sent one text, using every ounce of self control that I had not to call him our keep texting him until he gave me something, even if it was just to let me know that he was okay.

-

Azriel was out of his mind. He was spiraling. Nothing helped, nothing worked to get her out of his head. Sure, he could dull his senses enough not to feel anything, but whenever the substance of choice wore off it was always just her there. Her crying and puffy face, her eyes that showed him pure heartbreak, her first heart break, and he knew all too well how that felt.

Though for him it hadn't been a girl, it had been his mom, leaving him alone with his monster of a father. Saving herself but not taking him with her, for all she knew she could have been leaving her little boy to die. He remembered how his first heart break had felt like darkness consuming him, like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs, like no matter how hard he tried to swim up there was something holding him under water. And he did that to y/n. It was haunting almost every one of his thoughts, it made him feel sick to his stomach with guilt. And there was the fact that he missed her, more than anything or anyone that he had ever missed, more than he had missed his mother even in those first few years after she left.

The first night, he had gone to a rave with Rhys and Cass. They raved until 4 am, rolling on Molly, a sea of bodies and heat. He had fucked someone that night, figuring that if anything got his mind off of her it would be some new pussy. Of course that hadn't worked, and really it only made things worse since he had woken up to a text from her. im sorry for anything i said when i was drunk. maybe we can talk when i get back. He hadn't responded, feeling too guilty that he had fucked someone the very night after he broke her heart. While she had been thinking about him, thinking that she had done something wrong, he had been high out of his mind fucking some random in a dirty bathroom. But this was the very reason that he knew breaking it off was the right choice in the first place. He was and always would be a shit bag.

He had been at Rhys and Cass' place every day, they knew something was wrong with him but they didnt pry. They let him cope how he always did, skated with him at the indoor skate park til they were all battered and sore, drunk with him, partied with him, got stoned and high with him.

"You sure you don't want to talk about it? You've been dipping into your stash a lot, starting to get a little concerning," Rhys raises a brow, scaling out some weed into eighth bags. He hadn't realized how quiet he had been. He also hadn't necessarily realized that they'd noticed he was dabbling in substance just a little bit more than usual.

"Yeah, no Im good," he shrugs, rising to his feet, dusting off ashes that had collected on his clothing from smoking. "I should go," he bid them both goodbye before exiting the apartment.

He didnt miss the look of concern they exchanged between each other.

-

Azriel stood in the door way to his living room, almost frozen in shock. The tv was distant background noise even though the volume was almost all the way up. If he didnt know any better he thought the days of rolling were getting to his head and that he was hallucinating it.

His father was face down in vomit and broken glass, he must have fallen into the coffee table and shattered it when he passed out. He didnt have to check, the silence, the white noise buzzing in his ears to the point he almost couldn't hear anything else at all told him that his father was dead. He had probably been dead for hours based on the dryness at the edges of the pool of vomit underneath him.

He didnt feel an ounce of sadness, he didnt know how to feel really, right now, he thought it had to be pure shock. Azriel reached down and picked up a cigarette from a pack that head been on the floor, he lit it, staring down at his fathers body, thinking about every horrible thing he had put him through. The scene before him reminded him about a night when he was fourteen years old, he had stolen his dad's bottle of Jameson and drank the entire thing out of boredom. Rhys and Cass had been away that summer, so he remembered how horribly bored and how much trouble he had gotten into that year. He remembered being so sick never having drank that much before, he remembered throwing up on his hands and knees, his dad kicking him down into his own pile of vomit beneath him. He had watched him struggle to get up, time and time again, he would just laugh kick him down again until Azriel was so weak and dehydrated and physically exhausted, with nothing left in his system to vomit he had just dry heaved, laying there in his own throw up. "Lay there and think about what you did," his dad had growled while tying a thin piece of plastic around his upper arm in preparation to shoot up.

"Goodnight dad," Azriel smirked, letting out a small chuckle at the irony of the situation. He threw the cigarette butt into the center of the pool of vomit, watching it sizzle out. "Lay there and think about what you did," he says and turns before retreating upstairs to his room. His fathers body would be a tomorrow issue.

-

Before the police had come, Azriel gathered every bit of paraphanelia and all of his drug money that was hidden under the floor boards and stuffed everything into a bag that went into his trunk. He knew he wasnt a suspect or anything, the town cops were well acquainted with his father and it was an easy open and shut overdose case. Still, he didnt want to risk getting bagged for something else when they were collecting evidence.

Azriel sat on the porch now, smoking a cigarette while he watched the paramedics haul his dad's black plastic wrapped body into the ambulance to be taken to the morgue, a bored expression on his face. He felt more empty than he had in a long time, he didnt know if it was the fact that he had been doing ecstasy for almost the entire week, the fact that he had found his father dead and overdosed the night before, or if it was the fact that he couldn't just pick up his phone and call y/n anymore.

He had been asked to do a news piece. Of course they were covering his deadbeat, nothing father's death on the local news. In a small town like this they had to cover everything for there to be anything to talk about. He had obviously declined, though he knew they would still use his fathers name, probably show his house... "Chief, I gotta get outta here," Azriel had tossed the cigarette off of his porch and was standing now, his hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie.

"Youre good Azriel, just leave the door open for evidence and the hazmat team," the place chief nods and Azriel retreats to his room, packing his things to stay at Rhys and Cass' place for a few nights. Death was like a blanket that now covered his entire house, and he couldn't handle it.

-

Returning to school was just as miserable as being at my grandparents house. There was a buzz in the air about something, I didnt bother to try and figure out what it was. Nothing besides grades and Azriel really mattered anymore, even though the latter was only an empty hole in my chest at this point. I didnt expect to see him at school, I knew he would probably skip the first few days, and even if he didnt I knew I was the last person he wanted to see.

"Y/n," Maggie says a little breathlessly, jogging up to my locker at the end of the day. "Ive literally been looking for you all day, did you hear about Azriel?" she asks, my head snaps to the side, my eyes landing on hers. She knew about everything that happened with Azriel and her stance was that all boys are the same and he was just afraid to commit. No matter how many times I tried to tell her that Azriel wasn't like anyone else, she didn't listen.

"What happened?" I asked quickly, immediately assuming the worst, jail, car accident. I should have paid more attention to the gossip earlier.

"He found his dad... Like dead, in his house, drug overdose, you didnt hear?" she says, her brows furrowing slightly. "Literally like two or three days ago. It's so fucked, have you talked to him?" she asks, I just blink a few times, staring back at her. The thought of Azriel finding his dad like that made my gut twist, I wanted to cry.

"Um, no," I said quietly, hugging my text book to my chest. "He's still not speaking to me," I tack on quietly, now feeling guilty for not trying to reach out again. "I gotta go Maggie, thanks for letting me know," I close my locker, turning toward the door.

"Are you okay?" she asks, I could feel her watching after me, I turn my head back to give her a reassuring nod.

"I'm fine."

-

I knocked on Azriels door after school every day for three days straight. He didnt come to school, he didnt call, he didnt text, despite the number of texts I had now sent him. It was a new day now, Thursday and still he wasnt at school, so I took the familiar route to his house and knocked on his door three times. My heart leapt when the door swung open only a few moments later, my lips parted in surprise when it wasnt Azriel there, but a woman.

"Can I help you sweetie?" She was middle aged, wrinkles forming around her eyes and corners of her mouth. Tan skin and black hair like Azriels, and that wasnt the only thing they shared. She had Azriels eyes. Those beautiful, pooling, mysterious hazel eyes.

His mother?

"I-" I stuttered softly, staring up at her. "I was just looking for Azriel," I finally manage to get out.

"Well that makes two of us," she says and clicks her tongue. "Ive contacted the school, and he hasn't been there, police say I can't file a missing persons yet because he's eighteen-" she rambled before stopping herself. "Come in, it's freezing," she adds but I shake my head.

"Oh, no that's okay thank you. Ive got to get home," I swallow hard, turning away from her, I hear her bidding me goodbye and I only wave in response, not turning back around.

-

Azriels brows furrow in confusion at the silver, new looking car in his drive way when he returns later that night to grab fresh clothes and take a good shower. He planned to stay home that night, needing a bed instead of a couch, his back was aching. Not that he had been sleeping much, he was doing too much molly, he hadn't gotten a good nights sleep since the last night he had slept with y/n which had been weeks ago now, since he stupidly hadnt taken his chance to sleep next to her one last time after she declared her love. He had been too afraid.

He was sure though, that she didn't really love him, she loved the way that he fucked her, the way he ate her pussy, maybe even the way he looked. But he wasn't lovable, someone like her couldn't just love someone like him.

He pushes the door to his house open and cautiously walks in, stopping in his tracks when he sees his mother sitting at the counter. He turns around, looks back again, rubs his eyes once. Surely this was a hallucination. She was quiet, surveying him, after eleven years he had changed a lot, he wasn't the little boy that she had left. He was tall now, built, covered in tattoos.

"What are you doing here? What do you want? Cuz' there's sure as fuck no inheritance or will if that's what you're after," he practically spits, coldly, as he surveyed her as well. This was real, it was very real. He noted the wedding bands on her finger, and nearly laughed out loud. She winces at his tone and aggression, rising to her feet as she continues to stare at her son that she hadn't seen in so long.

"Ive been waiting for you all day. I came to see if you needed any help with the funeral or if you wanted to come stay with me and your sisters-"

"Just stop there, because they are not my sisters. You are not my family. I don't want to see you, I don't want you here," eleven years of anger was coursing through him. How dare she come here. How dare she show her face here like everything was just normal. Guilt flashes across her face and her throat bobs as she clutches her bag in her hand.

"I am sorry Azriel. I was young... I made a mistake-"

"It's too late for any of that. Im grown now," he scoffs, watching as tears threaten to fall from her eyes. He didnt feel the least bit guilty, he hoped that she suffered from her choices. "You left me here to die, you only cared about yourself. You promised a seven year old boy that you would come back for him and you never did. Do you know how many times he almost killed me?" the words were flowing from him and he wasnt sure if it was the lack of serotonin from too much x or if it was simply all the pent up anger and aggression that he had. She just stood in stunned silence, silent tears running down her face. "You come back now? Like that makes anything better? Thinking what? That I would run into your arms and away into the sunset with you and your new family?" He walked to the door, opening it for her and jerking his head toward it. "I don't know why you would come here, you're sick for even thinking that it was a good idea. And Im sick looking at you, get the fuck out of my house," he growls quietly, and she stares back at him opening her mouth to say something else but realizes there was nothing she could say that would ever make him forgive her.

He slammed the door shut behind him, his lungs felt like they were caving, his chest physically ached from the emotional turmoil. Seeing his mother was far more painful than his dads dead body days ago. He noticed though, that with the pain, there was some sort of closure he felt from screaming all those things at her.

He knew that he should go back to Rhys and Cass' place, he knew he shouldn't stay here, especially after that. He shouldn't be alone right now, but being alone was what he did best. It was easier than anything else.

-

The next day after school, I had been much more hesitant when I walked toward Azriels door. I noted his car in front though, which made my heart leap, my stomach churned with nerves.

Something had unsettled me about Azriels mother being there. Something felt wrong about seeing her there yesterday. There wasnt exactly much I knew about Azriels childhood. I knew it was abusive, I knew she left, I knew that he didnt deserve any of what he went through. I knew it tortured him more deeply than he let on, no one in the world was that strong. I hoped she wasnt there again today. I needed to talk to him, I needed to get him to myself, there was so much I wanted to say to him, though, I didnt know if I would really have the courage once we were face to face.

I knocked three times, just like I had yesterday, I waited a few minutes, knocked two more times. "Im fuckin coming, damn," his voice sends my heart soaring and my gut reeling. He swings open the door, and my eyes instantly meet his, he's surprised, I can tell that much. But his eyes are distant, besides the slight surprise he's not wearing any emotion besides maybe exhaustion, his normally tan skin is slightly pale, dark circles ringing the bottom of his eyes. "Y/n, I didnt realize it was you. Im- Im sorry," I wonder if he's as much at a loss for words as I am.

Worry gnawed at me as I stared up at him. I couldn't see any light there, he didnt look okay. He clears his throat expectantly and I realize that I haven't said a single word. "Im sorry you found your dad," I blurt out before swallowing the lump that was growing in my throat. I didnt exactly think that Im sorry for your loss was the right thing to say in this scenario, I knew Azriel better than that. I had seen the hatred burn behind his eyes when talking about his father.

Azriel softens only the tiniest bit, he lets out a small sigh, "did you want to come in?" He asks, stepping aside so that I could walk in. I found myself wondering where Azriel had found him, less than a week ago someone died in here. I tried not to think about it too much. "Sorry about the mess," he mutters, shutting the door before nodding toward the stairs, I walk the familiar path toward his room and the sight of his room makes my stomach turn as I recalled how clean it had been the first time I saw it.

Definitely not okay. There were clothes everywhere, random pills on random surfaces, some crushed up and some still whole, if it hadn't of been for the few random pizza boxes I would have thought he wasnt eating at all, there were empty liquor bottles, some paperwork strewn about that probably had to do with the funeral... It was bad, I felt sick. I swallowed a lump in my throat and turned, he seemed so distant, so unfazed. Was he on something?

"Azriel..." I whispered, he stared back at me, reading my expression before shaking his head.

"Don't say anything butterfingers," I take a step toward him, he visibly tenses which makes me hesitate. I just wanted to run to him. I wanted to take all of his pain away, I almost didnt even recognize myself anymore... When had I even started caring about things other than school? Of course I was still at the very top of my class, but I was so damn distracted these days... His eyes drift to my lips and my cheeks flush slightly, I was so damn nervous, the last time I saw him he had ripped my heart out of my chest. "Come here," his voice is husky, almost a whisper, his eyes are still jaded and dark. It almost scares me, the way he's looking at me. I advance slowly toward him my fingers shaking, breaths ragged.

"You want me to fuck you don't you?" he turns his chin up, looking down his nose at me, his words are rough now, a little louder and more forceful as he looks me up and down, my lips part in surprise, at a loss for words. "You just can't stay away can you?" he chuckles softly, and he grabs my face roughly, forcing me to look up and fully meet his gaze, I gasp in surprise, making him huff out another amused breath. Adrenaline courses through me and I can't tell if Im more afraid or more turned on, my heart pounds wildly against my chest as I stare up at him. "You just want my cock, stuffing you all night making you scream," he moves his fingers down, gripping my throat now, his long fingers lightly squeezing. I moaned quietly, gasping for breath.

"They do say it's always the quiet ones, the shy ones," he snickered softly, I felt so small underneath him. He squeezed a little tighter, the way he was looking at me. He was so cold, angry even. Did he really believe that's all I wanted from him? Did he really think I didnt mean it when I told him I loved him? "You like the way I fuck you don't you? You like the way I eat your pussy while you cum over and over again? My greedy little slut," his voice rattled through me, I couldn't speak, I only whimpered in response as he pushed me down roughly onto the couch. My body buzzed, my pussy aching with need for him, I didnt care how he was treating me. I didnt care about anything except the fact that I could have him again.

"Is this what you want?" he asks, shoving my face into the arm of the couch, I moaned softly as he ripped my shirt down, my nipples rubbing against the rough fabric of the sofa. My pants are next, and he rips them down with such force I have to hang on tightly to the couch to brace myself. He grips my hips tightly, not even bothering to get me fully undressed. I cry out as he slams his cock into me, filling me all the way up without so much as a warning. Yes, this was exactly what I wanted... What I had been needing. Him. Filling me, close to me, panting over me. "I fucking missed you," he admits, his fingers digging into my hip bones as he fucks me harder than he ever had. I cried out in pleasure, the feelings of pain and pleasure mixing in the best of ways.

"Azriel," I moaned, feeling closer and closer as he pounded into me so deliciously deep. Hes rough, hands needy and gripping me hard, I knew I would be covered in bruises. It felt too damn good to worry about anything. "Oh yes," I moaned again, my body going limp as I came all over him. He lets out a long low groan, continuing to fuck me with everything he had before he collapses on top of me. We lay like that in silence for a few long minutes as we catch our breath, my heart is still racing, nerves churning as I didnt even know how to feel or what to say.

"Are you okay?" I finally break the silence, I instantly regret it as the second I do he's off of me, pulling his pants back up and tucking himself away.

"Im fine, I'll give you a ride," he says coolly and a lump rises in my throat as I scramble to get dressed. It felt like the room was spinning.

"I thought maybe we could hang out or-"

"I told you y/n I can't have a relationship with you, you want to have sex with me, I gave you what you wanted. Im sorting shit out right now. I can't give you anything else," he shrugs, looking down at me now, I could see his mask. I could see he was putting on a face, no matter how well he could fool everyone else.. I could see the cracks.

I didnt hold back when I screamed at him.

"You're fucking scared Azriel!" I wanted to throw something at him, I wanted to hurt him, embarrass him like he had just done to me. No matter how much I had enjoyed it he had just degraded me and fucked me and was now trying to kick me out. "You do this to yourself! You're so fucking afraid of feeling something besides hate or anger that you just push it all away and look at you now I mean what the fuck are you doing? You're doing all kinds of pills and shit every day now? Now you're acting like your father. You are your own worst fucking enemy Azriel," I cry out watching him wince at my words, visibly flinch like they had dealt him a blow.

I knew I was cruel, I knew the things I said were horrible and hateful but I hadn't been able to help myself. Not after he treated me like that.

-

a/n ooooops lol thoughts????

[billys-pretty-babe]

I'm Having His Baby

Pairing : Dad!Billy Hargrove x Mom!Fem!Reader

Summary : All of Billy's reactions to finding about the Hargrove family expanding.

Warnings : Swearing, teen pregnancy (once), lots of pregnancy (it's billy that we're talking about)

Word count : 780

A/N : Decided to expand on my Hargrove Family and add new babies that you guys haven't read about... yet

June 9, 1985

Billy sat with you on the floor of his bathroom. Three months, that's how long you two have been together officially, hell, he's only been in Hawkins for a little over six. He rubbed your thigh as the two of you waited for Susan's kitchen timer to go off.

"I'm scared." He nodded, "Me too." You knew he was; you didn't know how his dad would react and that's what scared you the most. It wasn't long before the kitchen timer went off and Billy picked up the stick carefully. He looked at it first, "I don't know how to read this."

You huffed and took it from him and everything in you sank as you saw the positive lines. The two of you were only eighteen, there was no way you could take care of a baby. "What is it," he asked, his voice soft. "Positive," you replied. He nodded, his face blank.

Internally he was freaking out but he remained calm for you, just in case you needed to cry. "What're we gonna do?" You shrugged, "I don't know, hell I don't even know when I could've gotten pregnant." It clicked for you, his birthday. "Your fucking birthday, B." His eyes widened a little. He had gone raw that night, but he had pulled out in time, or at least he thought he did.

In December, the two of you welcomed Hannah Willow Hargrove.

August 15, 1988

Billy and you waited with bated breath as the test loaded. The two of you wanted Hannah to have a younger sibling and the two of you had been trying and trying and trying. You knew you were fertile, and Billy wasn't one to be a quitter. The timer rang and the lines greeted you once again. Billy smiled as he kissed you, "Knew my swimmers still worked." You groaned, "Way to ruin the moment." He laughed and kissed the top of your head, patting your ass gently.

"If it's a boy I want a junior." You scoffed, "No." He nodded and you shook your head, "No, we don't need two Billys in this household, one is enough." He rolled his eyes and held onto your waist, gently patting your stomach. "Hargrove baby number two," he said, pumping his fist into the air making you laugh as his wedding band glimmered in the light of the bathroom.

In March 1989, the two of you welcomed baby boy William Austin Hargrove, three days before Billy's 22nd birthday.

February 19, 1992

Neither of you even needed a test to confirm that you were pregnant. Billy knew and so did you. Having been pregnant twice, you two knew the signs to look for. You took a test anyway so neither of you would have false hope and of course, it came out positive. William toddled in your guys' bedroom as Hannah walked behind him, helping him walk as she picked him up a few times so he wouldn't trip.

He looked at the test, smile on his face as he rubbed your stomach. "We're gonna have a fucking football team by the time we hit thirty." You laughed as you held onto him. You were happy, you never imagined yourself being a mother so early in life but you couldn't imagine your life without your high school sweetheart and your babies.

In October 1992, three days before Halloween, you guys welcomed Jaxon Hargrove.

November 20, 1994

Another positive test and you two agreed this would be your last baby. The two of you loved your kids and as of right now, they all needed to grow up a little before you two had more kids, if you decided to have more kids. Billy was a great father to all of the babies and it was a blessing being able to see him with them every single day and be present in their lives.

"Last Hargrove baby." You nodded and Billy swayed you two from side to side. "What do you think it'll be?" You shrugged, "Maybe a girl, but I'm happy with either." He nodded, "I want another girl." You smiled. Billy loved his baby girl, Hannah, he loved all of his babies but she was the biggest daddy's girl anyone had ever met.

"Four babies, damn. We started eighteen and ending at twenty-eight. Ten years of making Hargrove babies." You laughed at your husband as you held onto him before you held his face and kissed him. "Tons and tons of babies, our house is a breeding ground." He laughed as he pecked your lips over and over.

In May 1995, you welcomed your second baby girl, Adeline Grace Hargrove.

Tagging @missingbillyhargrove because I know you like dad!Billy 💙

[dyslexicsquirrel]

This is a super rough draft and I'm working to polish it up for AO3 but have some childhood friends who kissed (no homo) second chance romance(?) Harringrove

I haven't posted anything in forever and this idea took over my body so uh I hope you like it? If you don't? Don't tell me lmao

Now I'm thinking about childhood friends Steve and Billy who practice kissing and whatever it's totally not gay. But Steve is like imagining their life after high school together, how they're gonna go to the same college and be roommates. Maybe if they get to kiss sometimes still that would be fine.

He tells Billy about it cause they're best friends and they tell each other everything. He thought Billy was on board. He helped Steve study, made sure he graduated.

So he's a little surprised when he gets to the school and Billy's Camaro isn't there cause he was running late but Billy always did like to make an entrance. Except Steve keeps checking down their row in the stadium and Billy never shows up. Doesn't come running onto the field when they call his name.

When he goes to return the cap and gown and pick up his diploma after the ceremony, the lady at the table check's her list and tells Steve "Looks like Billy picked his up the last day of class."

There's a big hole in the middle of Steve's chest that never really quite goes away. Not through college and parties or meeting his wife and getting married. Having his kids helps a bit but it's always there, sharp and jagged just like the boy who made it.

Steve focuses on work and raising his kids and maybe that's why his marriage falls apart. His wife handed him a big Manila envelope with sadness in her eyes. "You're a great dad and there's a part of me that will always love you, but I don't think you ever loved me, Steve, and I deserve better than that. We both do."

He agreed to everything, got split custody, and moved into an apartment in the city. It was beige and empty, but he covered it with pictures of his kids and ignored the way the hole in his chest started crumbling inward, growing every morning he woke up to silence until he felt hollow.

Steve got the kids for the summer and rented an RV. They were driving to California cause the kids had never seen the Pacific, he told his ex. She shrugged and sent them all off with hugs and kisses on the forehead. If a tiny voice in the back of his head called him a liar, he ignored it.

They ate at hole in the wall diners off the highway, but Steve splurged on hotels with pools cause sue him he was too high maintenance to live without soft sheets and good shower pressure.

Somewhere in Kansas or Colorado, Steve couldn't remember where they were right then, he saw the gas gauge getting low and pulling off at the next exit to find a place to get gas.

Steve almost ran a red light when he saw the sign at the convenience store on the corner. It had his brain lighting up like fireworks, memories of a past he didn't normally let himself think about crashing against the inside of his skull like waves.

There was no way. It was just a coincidence. He made sure the kids were fine and swung into the parking lot after the light turned green. "Dad's just a little tired. We'll find a place to check in after I fill up the tank."

The gas pump was old fashioned, not a single card reader in sight, and Steve shook his head with a chuckle, before rounding up the kids and heading inside. They dumped way too many snacks on the counter when they got to the front of the line. "Can I also get $40 on pump 3?" here told the guy behind the counter who was restocking cigarettes.

Short blonde hair, wide shoulders under a worn t-shirt, jeans so tight they molded to his ass and had Steve biting the inside of his cheek because he was in public, for fuck's sake.

He had to be really hard up if he was on the verge of making a spectacle of himself over some rando in a gas station. A grunt and the guy turned, pinning Steve with the brightest blue eyes Steve had ever seen.

Ones that haunted his dreams. "Billy?" he whispered, wallet slipping out of his numb fingers.

The guy who couldn't be Billy blinked at him, except he said, "Steve."

Robbie tugged on the hem of his shirt. "Who's that, dad?"

"Dad?" Billy repeated, sounding confused and a little accusatory. And seriously, fuck him.

"Just someone I used to know." He needed to get out of there before he made a scene of a different kind by jumping over the counter and punching Billy in his stupid, perfect face. "How much do I owe you?"

Billy's frown deepened. He bagged up all of the snacks, no longer meeting Steve's eyes and said, "Don't worry about it" when he handed them over.

Nope. He was not making it that easy. *You left. You left me. Why did you leave me?* clamored to get passed his lips, but Steve refused to be that pathetic when Billy obviously hadn't cared as much as Steve. He got his wallet off the floor and slapped his credit card on the counter, handing the kids the bags to hold.

Billy rolled his eyes, the way he had whenever they were kids and Steve did something Billy thought was stupid. They stood on silence except for the chatter of his kids and the bell chiming over the door when someone else came in. Steve took his receipt without a word.

"Come on, you two, let's go." He herded the kids toward the door, determined to walk out on Billy the way the other man had walked out on him, but Steve never did have much self control.

Billy was still watching him and their eyes met when Steve looked over his shoulder. "You know a good hotel around here?"

"There's a Best Western a few blocks down. Nicest place in town."

Was he imagining the question in Billy's eyes? Steve didn't know. Grace whined, "Come on, dad," the way only teenagers could and Steve let the door swing closed behind him.

Part of Steve was anticipating the knock at the door after the sun had set and the kids were both curled up in their beds. The other part called him an idiot for still holding a torch for the guy who broke his heart.

The rap on the door was soft, but Steve still jumped, tripping over his feet when he got off the couch.

There was Billy on the other side of the door, a cigarette dangling from his lips, hands shoved into his pockets.

Mindful of his kids, Steve stepped outside, leaving the door cracked behind him, while they stared at each other, the weight of all the years between them.

Billy broke the silence first, pulling the cigarette from his mouth, ash flicked from the tip in a cascade of sparks. "Where's Mrs. Harrington?"

That was about all Steve could take. He shoved at Billy's chest, still as solid as it had been back in high school, the prick. Billy didn't budge an inch. "I got divorced last year."

Billy took a long drag, a quiet "Shit" exhaled on a cloud of smoke.

"Yeah." Steve took the cigarette from Billy like they used to. He hadn't had a drag in years and almost choked.

There was no laughter, no jibe at Steve forgetting how to smoke. Instead, one of Billy's hands rubbed circles against Steve's back. Just that one touch unlocked something in Steve, all the years of longing, of loneliness, of regret. He wrapped his free hand around Billy's waist and tucked his face into the other man's chest.

"Why?" It came out garbled and wet from his tears but Billy understood all the same.

His answer made his tears run faster. But it was okay because size Billy's arms wrapped around him, holding Steve together. "Because I loved you too much."

"You're a fucking asshole."

"I know."

"I loved you too."

"I know." Of course he had.

They stayed like that until Steve got himself back together, the cigarette left to snuff itself out on the concrete. His eyes red and puffy and Billy wiped the moisture off his cheeks with his thumbs.

Steve leaned into Billy’s calloused palms, pulling the scent of Marlboroughs and warm skin into his lungs. He sniffed loud, echoed by the crickets and the distant traffic. He needed to say something or else he’d start crying again because Billy was looking at him the way Steve always secretly dreamed Billy would look at him one day.

He wanted to know what the hell he ‘loved him too much’ to stay meant, but this thing—could he call it a thing? Robin would probably call him a dingus right about now—was too shaky, like a house built on a cliff during an earthquake.

So instead, he said, “You know I meant why’d you pick that name when I asked why, but thanks for the declaration, I guess.”

Steve felt Billy’s chuckle where their chests still touched. “Now who’s the asshole?”

And, okay, Steve really was curious because Billy had to be the one who owned that place and had the balls to slap Pretty Boy on the front of a building.

Which meant he thought about Steve and the nickname he bestowed upon him enough to name his business after him. To have to see it every day and think about Steve.

So he was curious, but not enough to stop and ask when Billy was angling Steve’s head with the hand still holding his cheek to press their lips together.

It had been decades since the last time Steve and Billy kissed and it was still the best feeling in the world. The feeling of a full beard was new, but Billy’s hands felt the same, cradling the back of Steve’s head, the other pressed low on his back.

He still tasted like cigarettes and the mint gum he liked to chew.

Steve didn’t pull away until he heard the bathroom door close inside the room and even then he didn’t go far, pressing their foreheads together so they were still sharing the same air for as long as possible.

“How long are you here for?” Billy whispered, like he was afraid if he spoke too loudly, he would shatter the moment like spun glass.

“Just until tomorrow. The kids and I are going to California for the summer.” Saying it out loud, in front of Billy, made it feel like a dirty little secret. Billy knew why Steve was going there of all places if they way one side of his mouth kicked up. Steve had missed that smirk. He’d missed a lot of things if her were being honest.

“Maybe you can swing back through on your way back.”

The hopeful note Steve heard made him feel bold, reckless. “You should come with us.”

“What?”

“To California. You should come with us. I got an RV so there’s plenty of room. We could take turns driving. Grace and Robbie are cool kids, I swear. I’m realizing now that I said that that it’s kind of weird. Forget it—” His nervous rambling was cut off by Billy’s lips.

“Shut up, pretty boy. I’ve been wanting to go to California with you my whole life.” And, oh. Well, Steve was done for. His hands curled into the fabric of Billy’s shirt, holding on for dear life, scared if he let go Billy would disappear. “Besides, I should probably get to know your rugrats before I ask their dad to marry me.”

Steve's eye went comically wide and his heart stopped and that hole in his chest felt like Billy had slapped a patch over it. He wheezed. “Huh?”

“You think I’m letting you go again, Harrington?”

That was fine with Steve.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Chapter 9 - Please read chapter 1 first!

Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

Shin Saimdang is apparently a notable historical figure for something or another. 

Fact of the matter is, Goo doesn’t care. He couldn’t give a shit about her achievements and who she is. But he just wants to keep seeing her face all day, every day. The more of her the better.

Goo holds the 50,000 won note up to the sunlight, admiring the way it halos this Saimdang woman. Bringing it up to his lips, he presses a loud smooch to the 50,000 unmissable in the bottom left corner and then to her face printed in all its black and white glory. 

Maybe he’ll do the same to the wad of bills sitting in his pocket later.

“This could be you and I’d still kiss it,” Goo grins, wiggling his eyebrows and nudging Gun Park with his elbow.

“Shut up.” 

.

.

It is oft repeated for good reason, but here it comes again: Goo Kim fucking loves money.

Lives and breathes it. There’s very little he would not do to get his grubby little mitts on some.

That’s not to say Goo is not loyal. Of course he is, his loyalty just goes to the highest bidder.

And boy has Charles Choi gone all in with Goo, almost guaranteeing him a lifetime of luxuries and finer things in exchange for him getting some blood on his hands. That's fine with Goo, he is absolutely rolling in it with the Four Crews and his position in HNH.

Even having a partner like Gun Park is worth it for the bed of cash he sleeps on, his penthouse he lives in.

What can he say, he’s not a complicated guy. All his dreams have come true.  So what if he needs to sacrifice his morals and ethics?

How does he sleep at night? On a handmade imported mattress and 2000 thread count sheets, thanks for asking.

He can picture his younger self, a little Goo Kim with his head full of natural black hair overgrown and ungroomed, wearing threadbare brandless scraps. Squinting and clumsily bumping in life until he saved and scraped enough for his first pair of glasses.

Goo wishes he could give this version of him a little assuring pat on the head to say there’s a lot of good things to come. And then probably kick his ass for getting dirt on his designer suit.

Later that evening, when Goo sinks into the obscenely oversized bathtub of the presidential suite, listening to Gun Park mutter to himself as he recounts the bags of cash, he thinks:

‘This is it. This is everything I need.’

.

.

But every now and then, a memory, clear as day, causes him to stop in his tracks.

Someone’s hair, who is just the right tone, catches his eyes.

A laugh, that is almost but not quite, turns his head.

Goo is still as two faced as ever. Happy to utter flatteries to someone’s face then stab them in the back.

Sweetheart, cupcake, handsome, beautiful, cutie flows from his lips like it’s nothing. Because it means nothing.

Yet he can’t bring himself to call anyone else Princess.

.

.

“What’s wrong with you?” Gun’s voice cuts through the blonde’s pensiveness.

Playing the role of bodyguards and with a little time to kill as they wait for Crystal (which in all honesty is a waste of Goo’s amazing talents but he doesn’t mind, he gets paid all the same), they both sit outside a cafe. Gun, occupied with his phone and Goo, occupied with his thoughts.

Goo snaps his mask back on, pasting on a smile that is pulled too wide, “Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

“If it’s about that girl,” Gun returns his attention to his screen, “Get over it.”

The directness of Gun’s words catch him off guard. It cuts him straight to the core. Has he been that obvious? 

Goo swallows down any misgivings, instead stretching his grin impossibly wider and looking unhinged. A clear warning sign as any. “There’s no girl.”

Gun peers over to his partner, arching a single eyebrow and not saying anything more.

.

.

Another day, another dollar. Or another boring-ass corporate event.

Charles seems to be having the time of his life, mingling and schmoozing with some old corporate fuddy-duddies.

Goo thought it was surprising getting the CEO of HNH to some shitty little ribbon-cutting ceremony at a shopping mall, but apparently it’s something of a big deal; celebrating a new store opening of a very prestigious partner of HNH.

(Gun was sorely tempted to beat this fact into his thick skull. Clearly the four other times he had explained this to the blonde didn’t sink in.)

Alas, they are finally here. And it’s every bit as boring as Goo had thought it would be. He lets out a yawn, not bothering to cover his gaping mouth, which earns a glare from Gun and Crystal.

Goo nods his head towards the bathroom, signalling to his partner that he’s off for a comfort break.

Gun frowns, as if to say 'Don’t you dare leave. We’re on duty.'

Goo volleys with a smirk that communicates his response loud and clear. 'What? So you want me to piss all over the floor?'

Gun grunts in displeasure, giving a little shake off his head. 'Go. You’ve won this one.'

.

.

At the disappearance of Goo, your other friends start to reappear. 

Really, you couldn’t blame them for holding you at arm’s length. You probably would have done the same looking in from the outside, if they had chosen to spend all their time with a delinquent too.

And they really have been sweet since they’ve been back, noticing your heartache and the constant cloud hanging over your head.

In an attempt to get you out of your funk, they’ve dragged you, kicking and screaming, on a day out. It should cheer you up as you wander store to store, hearing their laughter and banter again, offering to buy you little gifts as a pick-me-up.

It doesn’t work.

It actually does the opposite as you start to shrink in on yourself, guilty that you’re ruining what should be a very pleasant trip.

“What’s going on there?” One of your friends point out, and you don’t have the energy to care.

“That’s the big boss of HNH!” Another one chimes in, and they ooh and aah wondering if they should approach and ask for an internship.

You continue wandering on, leaving your friend group to debate the merits of that approach. Whether they’ll get tackled by security or lauded for their initiative.

As you move further and further away, you can’t help but feel eyes burning into the back of your head. 

.

.

Gun watches you leave. He stays quiet when Goo returns.

.

.

In time, you begin to feel more like yourself.

The worry turns to anger and finally fizzles out to acceptance.

You try to move on but don’t forget Goo Kim. How can anyone truly forget Goo Kim, that whirlwind of a human being?

He entered your life, left behind a shine, and now has disappeared as mysteriously as he appeared.

You miss him in ways you didn’t know possible.

He haunts your days and nights. 

You dream of bleached hair, sharp eyes behind glasses, and a sardonic smile.

.

.

You’re back at the top of the class again with your grades, though inside you miss being second best.

Exams come and go. 

You do well.

With your results, your first choice university accepts you with a full scholarship.

You look forward to the future yet everything feels hollow without that presence in your life.

It pains you to even say his name.

[maithefluffychicken]

Happy Bottom Steve event everyone!

Porn without plot and without angst. Just fluff and smut. 6k words.

Paradise by the dasboard light.

Steve is good at pretending.

He always has been good at that: pretending to follow his father’s steps into a very profitable business career. Pretending to like Tommy H and Carol. Pretending to be popular, the most popular, the King.

Pretending to like girls.

It’s not- He likes girls, her soft bodies, her curves, her silky skin and soft moans. But it took him years and one Robin Buckley - and being tortured by Russians somehow related to the hellish nightmare that was the Upside Down, because what’s life without a little bit of trauma, right? - to stop pretending that Steve Harrington exclusively likes girls.

Not like Steve could do much about this new truth about himself, once he said it out loud to Robin when he was ready. Not with their lives hanging from a thread, and Vecna murdering their schoolmates, and the local freak, Eddie Munson, being wanted dead or alive for the townsfolk and joining the party.

No, Steve hadn’t had time to really think about what his sexuality implies or if he ever wanted to do something about it.

But now Vecna is defeated, the Upside Down is closed, Hawkins is being fixed north to south and side to side. Now life is returning to something close to normal.

Just, close to it.

“Haaaarrington!” Eddie storms inside the renewed Family Video, singsonging his name, and fuck, it shouldn’t make Steve’s belly tingle in interest. “Are you free this evening, big boy? Please, please, Harrington, tell me that you’re free.”

Maybe one day Steve will get used to Eddie’s flirtatious nature, but today is not that day. Flustered and feeling high, like Steve feels always that he has Eddie’s attention, turns to look at him, schooling his face into an annoying expression, before answering him.

“What do you want?” Steve asks dryly. It only makes Eddie’s grin wider, and Steve has to accept the fact that he wants to kiss him stupid.

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, are you in a mood? A cute girl rejected you today? Not that something like that could happen, you’re the cutest boy in the whole Indiana-”

Eddie always says shit like this, not noticing the inner turmoil he provokes in Steve every single time. The handsome bastard.

“Munson,” Steve warns him. Whatever Eddie is going to propose, Steve knows he’s going to say yes to him. Usually it’s something Henderson-related.

“I’m bored,” Eddie shrugs, hands on the counter in front of Steve, long, toned arms on display, all ink and scars. “It’s summer, I finally graduated, I have nothing to do and. You know, I thought maybe you’d want to go to Indy with me? There’s a new record store, Divinyl Records, want to check it out.”

The only sign that shows that Eddie is nervous is his rambling, it makes Steve feel a bit better.

“And I know you don’t like it, but I want to buy a new set of dice, Henderson asked me to buy another for him, too.”

There it is, the Henderson-related excuse they both seem to need to hang out together. Steve is happy to have Dustin in common with Eddie, but he wishes they didn’t need any other excuse to spend time togther.

Steve feigns to think about it for a second, glaring at Eddie and sighing exaggeratedly before agreeing.

“I’ll pick you up when I finish here, around noon,” Steve says, trying to hold his own silly smile when Eddie beams at him, dimples included, and fists his right hand in victory. Steve eyes the way his forearm flexes and how his ridiculous rings shine under the artificial light of the store.

“Yes, Stevie! I knew I could count on you!” He exclaims, and a few customers turn to look at them, but Steve couldn’t care less, not when Eddie is reaching to pat Steve’s hand on the counter, leaving Steve’s skin prickling with need wherever Eddie’s long, warm fingers caresses his own. “See you at noon, then.”

Eddie turns and leaves Steve alone, flustered and with butterflies flying in his stomach, battering their wings furiously inside him.

-

Steve calls Robin to cover him, because if it’s true that he’s free in the evening, he very much wants to take a shower and to brush his teeth compulsively before picking Eddie.

It’s not a date, and Steve knows that, but that doesn’t mean Steve has to meet Eddie with his armpits stinking after eight working in a store with a barely working AC, and if he uses his favorite cologne and styles his hair with even more care than usual… Fuck it, ok? Steve puts it on his best polo, the one that makes his shoulders look broader, and the tightest Levi’s he owns.

He really doubts Eddie is, well, like him. He has seen Eddie around girls, he’s a flirt, just as he is with Steve. But that’s - just because he’s a tease. Eddie doesn’t flirt with Gareth or Jeff, his best friends. And he doesn’t flirt with Jonathan nor Argyle, either. This thing Eddie has with Steve, this flirting, is just their trauma-related shared bond or whatever.

And yet, Steve can’t help but smile when he picks up Eddie from the new house he shares with Wayne, a little gift from Uncle Sam’s government after the whole Upside Down fiasco.

“Ah, to be in the infamous Beemer with the king in person, what a high honor!” Eddie banters the moment he sits in the passenger’s seat. “And it smells good, wait.”

Eddie leans into him and Steve feels himself blushing fiercely, tries half heartedly to push him away before turning on the car.

“Man, you smell good,” Eddie sniffs the air. “No way!”

“What?” Steve can’t help but smile. Eddie is gorgeous and is grinning at him and he likes how Steve’s smells.

“Did you take a shower for me?” Eddie is beaming at him, and Steve wants- He just wants. He laughs, feeling caught red handed.

“I took a shower because it’s fucking summer and it was disgusting, I was disgusting,” Steve says.

“I doubt that,” Eddie answers him, leaning in his seat and looking through the open window. “I bet even your sweat smells fucking good.”

Steve dares to glance at him, sure that his face is showing how flustered and aroused he is just because, well, Eddie. Thankfully, the reason for his half hard cock is now resting with his eyes closed, enjoying the wind and the sun bathing his skin, being beautiful and relaxed. It’s good to see him like this, Steve wishes he could watch Eddie like this more often.

-

Their evening together is. Fuck, it’s perfect. It’s probably the best date Steve has ever had, even if it’s not a date.

They spend their good time at Divinyl Records, bantering and bickering about everything. Eddie’s tastes, Steve’s taste, what they both like, what they both hate. Eddie is delighted to learn that Steve actually loves Queen, his eyes bright when they talk about it. Steve doesn’t want to read into it, but hope is free, right?

Eddie squeaks when he finds something he wants, one of Meatloaf’s vinyl, Bat Out of Hell, saying that it’s very on point, that he feels exactly like that, and he traces the ink of his arm, the bats he has tattooed there. The record’s cover is red and orange. It shows a man on a hellish motorbike, flying high after storming, well, out of hell, a giant demonic bat left behind. Steve wonders if Eddie feels like the man in the cover, avoiding Death and escaping Hell, or, in their own experience, the Upside Down.

“Man, I wish I had a record player at my home,” Eddie says wistfully, admiring the cover. “Have you ever listened to him? It’s- It’s not metal but it’s like, rock, and potent, and-” Eddie sighs, leaving the record in its place. “Anyway, I have it on tape already.”

Eddie smiles at Steve, shrugging, and leaves to search in the other boxes. Steve takes the record, Bat Out of Hell, already decided to buy it for Eddie, a plan forming in his mind. He has an absurdly big, fancy record player at his home, and it’d be a great excuse to have Eddie around more often.

They both end up buying some tapes, and Steve puts the record to buy it, too, under Eddie’s confused glare.

“Steve, what-?” Eddie asks when Steve puts Meatloaf’s record in Eddie’s plastic bag.

“I have a record player, you can come whenever you want to hear this or whatever other record,” Steve says, ignoring the way his cheeks - and his whole body - are burning. This silly thing seems to be too revealing, somehow, as if Steve were admitting out loud how much he wants Eddie.

But the metalhead is simply gawking at him, pink lips half parted, his doe eyes so big and bright that Steve doesn’t really know what to do when Eddie is looking at him.

“Stevie- I,” Eddie’s voice quivers softly. “Are you sure? I’ll be there like, all the time, just- camp in your living room and listen to music non-stop, like, forever. You won’t get rid of me.”

Do it, Steve thinks, chest heaving. Do it, come live with me, sleep in my bed, never leave my life. Take all of me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure,” Steve laughs a bit too loud. “Whatever you say, man, just, accept it? As a gift?”

“Fuck, yeah, Harrington, thank you!” Eddie is buzzing with pent up energy, holding the bag against his chest, smiling openly and closing the distance with Steve, as if he was thinking about hugging him or-

“Of course,” Steve smiles, swallowing his deception when Eddie stops suddenly, taking a step back. He needs to get a grip on reality, and soon, or Eddie’s antics are going to kill him. “Let’s go.”

It’s still the best date Steve has ever had, after that. It’s easy to laugh with Eddie, to forget everything else when Eddie is retelling some incredible story, talking with his hands as much as with his deep, baritone voice, and Steve is transfixed by his whole persona.

Eddie buys a few things for his next campaign, excited because Baby Byers are joining them at last.

“You should try, Steve, just give it a chance!” Eddie says excitedly, and winking an eye to Steve, he shoves a small box against Steve’s chest. “Those are what you need to start, if you ever want to give me- give us a chance. To play DnD! That’s it!”

Steve opens the box to see a brand new set of dice, shiny yellow, all for him. Just for Steve, because Eddie wants him to play DnD with them all.

“I will,” Steve breathes, deeply touched.

“I know we’re a bunch of freaks and that you’re far too cool for us, you know, biting the head off a demobat and all that-,” Eddie keeps rambling, nervously hiding his face behind a strand of dark hair. Steve shouldn’t find him this charming, but here he is, once again holding himself back to not kiss Eddie senseless.

“Eddie, I will!” Steve laughs, interrupting him, resting his hand in Eddie’s warm, heaving chest to calm him. Through the well worn fabric of his shirt, Steve can feel the rabbit-like beating of Eddie’s heart. “I’ll join you all, but it’ll be my first time, be gentle with me, ok?”

Eddie makes a throaty sound at that, something like a strangled ngk!, and his eyes widen impossibly, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ll be, fuck, baby, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” Eddie whispers back, taking a step forward, hands hovering over Steve’s hips.

It’d be so easy for any of them to simply lean in and press their lips together in a kiss. Steve has no doubts, this is not just Eddie’s flirtatious character, it can’t be. They’re so close, their mouths mere inches apart, just-

Someone clears their throat nearby, and just like that, the spell is broken and the moment, gone. Steve retires his hand from Eddie’s chest as if it burnt him, and Eddie jumps backwards, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“It’s still soon,” Steve says, not looking at Eddie’s eyes. “Want to eat something before heading back to Hawkins?”

-

Clouds of a summer storm curl in the sky the moment Steve and Eddie find a greasy joint that smells good enough to entice them, and they order two burgers with fries and cherry coke for Steve and vanilla milkshake for Eddie.

It’s- so much, in the best sense of the word.

They’re laughing and talking loud to be heard over the blasting music, their mouths full and it should be disgusting. It is. Steve would never dare to be like this in front of anyone else - not another guy and definitely not in front of a girl -, it’s like being a kid again, that kind of freedom.

Except that Steve doesn’t remember feeling this hunger, this raw, visceral need for any of his friends before. Steve wants to jump on Eddie’s lap and swallow him whole and be swallowed by him.

There’s this invisible energy between them, buzzing restless and igniting every one of Steve’s nerves, a low thrum nestled deep in his belly. Eddie seems to not be able to stop looking at Steve, not since they almost kissed before. Now it’s like a physical force pulling at them, tugging at them together. Strong as gravity. Inevitable.

In a dazed moment of craziness, where everything could go terribly wrong or wonderfully right, Steve decides to test the waters. He takes off one of his Adidas with the other foot, and while Eddie is talking about god knows why, Steve reaches to caress his calf with his bare feet under the table.

Eddie goes silent, his eyes bulging, completely flabbergasted. For a terrifying second, Steve is sure that Eddie is going to stop him, to spit at him a cruel what the fuck are you doing?!. Steve bites his lower lip in fear, and starts to lower his feet, when Eddie finally speaks up.

“Harrington,” he mumbles weakly. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Steve smirks at him,euphoric. This is not a fucking hopeless fantasy, this is happening, and it’s absurd. He copied this move from a girl he dated once, she was wearing lovely low heels with a strap around his ankle, and it was very exciting. They were in a fancy restaurant with actual tablecloth to hide what was happening undeer the table.

Instead, he’s wearing socks, and he’s far from being a pretty girl, but Eddie is looking at him in awe, his cheeks beet red and his breath uneven. Because of Steve. Fuck, this is how a girl feels when flirting with Steve like this?

Steve gets bolder, and traces with his feet Eddie’s long leg, caresses his thigh. He wants to whine when Eddie spreads his legs wider in a silent invitation. The metalhead is looking at him with a wild expression on his face, one hand holding the edge of the table for dear life. The other hand, Eddie sneaks it under the table, wraps his long fingers around Steve’s ankle.

“We should talk,” Steve says, feeling deliriously high, his cock more than half hard now, straining his cotton boxers.

I“What?” Eddie asks, distracted, drawing circles with his thumb in Steve’s ankle. “Harrington, are you sending me mixed signals? Because I can’t focus right now-”

Steve has to laugh, shaking his head, and taking the chance to prod with his toes at Eddie’s crotch, pride swelling his chest when he feels Eddie’s cock throb at the attention received. Steve’s own dick twitches in empathy. Fuck, this is the most exciting thing Steve has ever done.

“No, dipshit,” Steve snorts. “Just talk, make it like nothing is happening.”

“Stevie, baby, nothing is actually happening here,” Eddie grits between his teeth, his knuckles gripping the table so hard they turned white. “And that’s how I’m going to die. Here lies Eddie Munson, Steve the Tease Harrington killed him.”

“Shut up, I’m not a tease,” Steve smirks, even if he’s now stroking the clothed length of Eddie with his toes, wishing there were nothing between them. Not a fucking table, not clothes.

“You’re not?” Eddie asks, dead serious now. His eyes pleading at Steve, brows pinched. “You’re not just teasing me for some twisted joke?”

His voice. Steve knows he’ll remember his pained, vulnerable voice forever. For the first time in months, Steve thinks that maybe, just maybe, Eddie has been feeling just the same way about him.

That thought makes his head spin and his mouth dry.

“I would never joke about something like this, Eds,” Steve says. “We should… pay, maybe? You can spend the night at my home?”

A myriad of microexpressions take over Eddie’s face then, Steve can’t barely read them all, but then Eddie smiles at him, nodding sharply and squeezing Steve’s ankle just once before taking it off his twitching cock.

“I’ll need a dew minutes before, you know,” he smiles shyly, and Steve grins at him.

“Yeah, me too.”

-

Silently, because it’s the summer of ‘86 and neither of them want to start a riot in the middle of Nowhere, Indiana, they manage to keep their hands to themselves, jumping into the Beemer in silence.

Eddie’s leg is now bouncing up and down restlessly, trying to decide what of their new tapes to put in to listen to some music. Steve couldn’t care less, turning the engine on and revving up, wanting nothing more than to reach home and get inside with Eddie.

Fuck.

A guitar riff starts playing and Eddie plays the air as if he were playing the guitar. Long fingers caressing the invisible neck of his imaginary guitar, rings clinking softly, his head moving along, his curls bouncing. Steve always admired how freely and unabashed Eddie is, even if the boy admitted to him that most of it is just a facade he used to put on to mask how much of a coward he was.

“So,” Eddie says at last, looking at the big, dark clouds that cover the dusky sky.

“So,” Steve repeats.

“You weren’t just teasing, back at the diner?” Eddie asks, and tugs at his curls playfully.

That tension between them is still there, crackling in the space between them like electricity.

“Not teasing,” Steve promises, and shoots a smile at Eddie. “I meant it there and I mean it now, Eddie.”

“You want this,” Eddie’s index finger points at them both vaguely. “You want this to happen, then.”

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat.

“Y-yes, Eddie, I-,” Steve has to take a deep breath, to focus on the driving and on his confession. “I’m tired of not having enough excuses to hang out with you more often. Fuck that, I’m tired of needing excuses, Eddie. Do you want this? Do you want this too?”

Eddie answers by putting his hand on top of Steve’s thigh, nails scratching the denim softly before squeezing the soft flesh.

“Ah, fuck,” Steve whimpers at the sudden sensation, the wave of aroussal rippling through his whole body.

“I don’t remember not wanting this with you, baby,” Eddie says, voice so soft and vulnerable that it feels like a punch in Steve’s guts. “I’ve been obsessed with you since I saw you in the boat house, making that soft ah for me.”

“Fuck you,” Steve snaps without heat. “You were threatening me with a fucking broken bottle.”

“Yeah, and it was the weirdest boner of my life, Steve-o,” Eddie grins. “So hard and fat and leaking because of your little moan.”

Eddie leans into Steve again, invading his personal space completely as he does often, but now his hand is so close to Steve’s groin that it makes him feel dizzy. Steve knows Eddie is teasing him now, he knows Eddie was far too terrified that awful night to even pop a boner then, but fuck if the image of Eddie’s cock, hard and leaking beacuse of Steve doesn’t make his toes curl.

“Shut up, Munson,” Steve laughs, but spreads his legs wider so Eddie can grab his bulge through his jeans. Eddie doesn’t do that, the bastard. He sits back on his seat like a normal person and grins. His hot palm is still on Steve’s thigh, though, driving him crazy.

“Or what?” Eddie snaps at him playfully,

“Or I won’t let you fuck me when we come home,” Steve threats him. Eddie gasps, feigns being offended, but Steve can see his smile from the corner of his eye. It’s the weakest threat Steve could do, knowing that they’re both stupidly horny.

“That’s cruel of you,” Eddie pouts. His fingers start drawing circles on Steve’s thigh, and it’s an interesting sensation, lust and need mixed with the tender fondness Eddie inspires him.

It feels like every step they’re doing is, in fact, a leap of faith. As if the smallest detail could break this bubble they’re in, now. Steve lets go of the wheel with one hand so he can tangle his fingers with Eddie’s. The metalhead doesn’t look at him, he’s once again hiding his face behind his curtain of dark curls, but squeezes Steve’s hand and thumbs over his knuckles.

It’s not a kiss. Fuck, they haven’t kissed yet and Steve is thirsty for him. But it’s good, it’s somehow better, because this means something. This means that it matters, that is not only their horniness.

Steve lets himself hope for once.

They drive in silence, big fat drops falling from the darkening sky, and it’s peaceful for a while. Steve loves to drive, and driving under the rain it’s kind of romantic. Eddie seems to relax by his side, he’s quiet for once and his hand is still intertwined with Steve’s.

“Thanks for today,” Steve blurts. “For asking me to come with you, it’s been- I had fun.”

Eddie grins lazily at him. “My, my, King Steve, is this one of your moves?”

“What? No, fuck, I just wanted to be honest,” Steve frowns at Eddie, rain falling more heavily every passing ssecond.

Eddie sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he shrugs. “I don’t know how to do any of this, actually.”

“What?”

“You know. This felt like a date from the start, and I wanted it to be a date, I just-,” Eddie laughs awkwardly. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess, you’re right, I’m tired of needing a silly excuse to be with you, and yet you bought me the record-”

“Yeah, and you gave me a dice set,” Steve interrupts him.

“Hm,” Eddie hums. “I’m just nervous. Never had a date. Was this a date?”

“It can be a date if you want it to be,” Steve says. “I want it to be a date, that’s why I’m driving us home now, like-”

“To seal the deal?” Eddie snorts.

“No. Yes. I don’t know! Maybe.”

“King Steve is nervous?” The metalhead teases him.

“I think I’m always nervous when you’re around,” Steve confesses.

“Fuck, me too, sweetheart,” Eddie laughs openly now. “I think I’m gonna fuck it up somehow, I’m terrified, that’s why I’m being a dick.”

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse for being a dick every day, Munson?”

They both laugh freely, the banter flowing easily, and Steve breathes out relieved that their friendship is not going to be ruined by this. He lifts their joined hands so he can kiss Eddie’s knuckles, and the metalhead groans softly, surprised and pleased.

Their joy lasts just a few more minutes. The sky is completely black now and it’s pouring with rage, Steve can barely see shit on the road.

“Fuck this rain,” Steve complains. “I think we should find a spot to stop and wait for a while.”

“There’s a dead end nearby, I used it a lot before for… Well, you know. We can wait there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

It takes them a while to find the dead end Eddie knows, with Steve’s slow driving and the non-stop rain. Thankfully there are no cars, and when they find the place where Eddie used to sell, Steve stops the car and turns off the lights, leaving the music on. The rain clatters around them.

They’re finally alone. Well, they’ve been alone since they got into the car, but Steve was busy driving. Now they’re alone and nothing is distracting them. When Steve looks at Eddie, he knows that they both are thinking the same thing.

They’re alone, in the car, no one is crazy enough to be driving under this rain, and there’s only the dashboard light illuminating them.

And then, it happens. Both of them launching to each other and meeting in the middle in a searing kiss, teeth clacking and noses bumping, but who cares. They readjust a bit and then they’re properly kissing, and it’s fucking good. Not what Steve is accustomed to, Eddie’s stubble rasps Steve’s chin, but his lips are plush and soft and warm. His long fingers are on Steve’s jaw, tracing it blindly, while Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shirt, tugging at him desperately.

“Fuck, Stevie, I was dying to do that.”

“Please, stop saying things like you’re dying, I can’t stand that, Eds-”

Eddie kisses him softly now, as an apology.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Eddie says, and starts trailing kisses down Steve’s neck. “I’ve been dreaming with this for so long, fuck, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Hng, Eddie,” Steve whimpers, closing his eyes and letting himself feel. Eddie's hot breath on his neck, his hands roaming down his spine. Steve’s fingers tangling in Eddie’s curls.

“Can’t believe you want this, too, holy fuck, Stevie,” Eddie’s hands find the hem of his polo and sneak underneath, Steve’s abs shiver at the contact.

“I want you so badly, Eddie,” Steve mumbles. “I thought you were just playing or whatever, fuck, if I knew I’d have taken you on a date sooner.”

“Shit, Steve, really?” Eddie lifts his head to look at Steve, caresses his lips with his thumb, and Steve opens his mouth instinctively. “Fuck, Steve, I don’t think I can wait until we got home, baby, I need you.”

Steve moans wantonly at that, his own cock twitching needily.

“How do you want me?” Eddie asks, cradling Steve’s face softly in his hands and peppering it with kisses. It’s thrilling, knowing that someone, Eddie, wants him. and wants this to be good for Steve. It’s good to be the receiving part of all this attention.

“Would you-,” Steve has to take a deep breath to ask for what he wants. Something he has been thinking about for a long time now. But this is Eddie. Eddie, who wants him too. Eddie, his friend, maybe so much more than that from now on. “Would you fuck me?”

“Jesus Chr-, fuck, yes Stevie, whatever you want, baby,” Eddie says, his voice muffled with Steve’s lips as he leans in to kiss him again. “Everything.”

They shift and move around until they’re sprawled more or less comfortably on the Beemer’s backseat. Steve underneath Eddie’s lean body, their legs tangled together and their fully clothed cocks rubbing against each other. Panting and moaning wantonly until the windows start to fog with their shared heat.

“You’re so hot, Harrington, what the fuck,” Eddie complains, pressing their foreheads together and rolling his hips.

“Harrington? Really? When you’re about to fuck me?”

“Do you prefer if I call you sweetheart?” Eddie asks, and bites Steve’s pulse. Steve moans, baring his neck. “Or baby?” Another bite, a little bit lower. “Mi amor?”

“Ah, fuck, Eddie,” Steve arches his back, needing more. Needing everything Eddie would want to give him.

“Stevie, Stevie, darling, we’re wearing too many clothes, can we like, get rid of all our clothes right now?”

“Yes, yes, fuck!”

They undress quickly, caressing and nipping at every new inch of skin they can reach, until they’re finally bare. It’s kind of a shame that Steve can’t really enjoy the sight of Eddie with no shirt and unzipped jeans, but he’s hopeful, maybe he can ask Eddie later, when they’re at home. But they’re naked at last, and Eddie is, in fact, enjoying Steve’s body.

“Fuck, Stevie, why are you so hot?” Eddie says, and buries his face in Steve’s chest, pushing at his pecs and sniffing deeply. “Man, I wanna live here now, in your muscled tits, look at all that haaair.”

Steve laughs, his hands on Eddie’s hair again. “You’re so silly.”

“I just,” Eddie snorts. “You know, I’ve never been a boobs guy until I saw yours. I’m so happy this is happening.”

Eddie braces on his arms again so they can kiss again, and again, while their hands explore freely down their bodies. Steve palms Eddie’s scars tenderly, worshiping them, incredibly grateful that Eddie left the Upside down with just these scars. The proof that he’s alive.

Steve feels his heart clenching at that thought, and while that well known lump forms again in his throat, he realizes that he doesn’t have a silly crush on Eddie Munson. No, not at all. Steve is in love with him.

“I’m happy too, Eds, please,” Steve pleads, voice trembling and wet.

“Stevie,” Eddie whispers, settling between Steve’s legs, stroking his thighs soothingly, fingers tracing the shape of his cock, following his vein until he reaches the gland, pressing the underside with his thumb. It’s dry and gentle and Steve can’t hold back the whine that escapes his mouth. “Fuck, baby, so responsive, are you always like this?”

Steve shakes his head sharply, trying to find the words.

“N-no,” and fuck, he’s not lying. He feels like he has cheated on every girl he has made out with, every girl he took to bed, because it never felt this good, it never felt like this raw need. This is all Eddie. “Not like this.”

“Fuck.”

Steve wants to do so much more, he wants to worship Eddie, but the metalhead is determined to ruin him for everyone else, it seems.

“Have you ever been with another dude?”

“You’re the first,” Steve says, honesty making him blush, feeling like a virgin. To some extent, he is a virgin, he’s about to do something he never allowed himself to think about until - Eddie.

“Steve,” Eddie sighs. “Steve, look at me, please.”

Steve obeys, vulnerable and helpless. Eddie’s big eyes are searching in his face for some ineffable answer, Steve hopes he finds it.

“Baby, do you want it to be like this? With me?” Eddie’s own vulnerability actually helps, it makes Steve braver, for them both. Steve drags Eddie down for a deep kiss before answering him.

“I want you, right here, right now,” Steve reassures him. “And I’ll probably want you again when we get home, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow.”

“Stevie-”

“If you’ll have me, Eds, I want you everyday.”

Eddie groans at his words, his face red and his whole body trembling atop Steve while they kiss.

“Every fucking day, baby, ever fucking day.”

Eddie kisses one last time before spitting in his fingers, and Steve holds his breath when he sees Eddie’s hand disappearing between his legs, his own cock leaking like a fountain, aching.

The first drag of Eddie’s index finger against his rim is slick and soft, it surprises him even if he was expecting it. Eddie prods at it, slicking it, until the tip catches on it and he pushes forward, making Steve grunt.

“Relax, baby,” Eddie says, caressing Steve’s soft, inner thigh with his free hand. “If I knew, I'd have brought lube.”

“It’s ok, just keep going, Eddie, please,” Steve begs, looking at Eddie, taking in his lean body, the ink that decorates it, his long cock hanging proud between his legs, hard and fat and leaking for him as he promised earlier.

Eddie takes its time, and a lot of saliva, opening Steve, fucking him with his fingers as if his life depends on it. Steve braces himself wherever he can, panting wantonly and wondering why he never put his fingers up his hole. It feels fucking incredible, with Eddie’s chunky rings prodding at his entrance. His arms flexing, his abs shivering. Fucking hot, Steve thinks, half hystericall. So hot and he’s going to fuck me.

“Stevie, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, kissing Steve’s knee. “Baby, do you have condoms?”

Steve fumbles blindly, he knows he has condoms in his car, he just doesn’t remember where, and hopes they’re ok. After a few seconds, Steve finally grabs the box, opens it and gives one to Eddie, who is grinning wolfishly at him.

He watches as Eddie rolls the condom down his cock, stroking himself a few times to full hardness. It’s a pretty cock, longer than he expected and thick, uncut, and he can’t wait to have it inside of him.

“You ready, love?” Eddie asks him, his voice deep and rough with arousal. Steve can only nod. “Tell me if it doesn’t feel good, ok?”

“Have you done this?” Steve asks, a pang of jealousy hitting him out of the blue.

“Not too much, if I’m honest with you,” Eddie laughs awkwardly. “It’s been almost a year since the last time. “Is that- You ok with that? I’m not like, experienced or-”

“Shut up and fuck me, fucknut,” Steve begs roughly, lifting his hips, and Eddie laughs,

“Bossy, bossy, sweetheart.”

Steve wants to retort, but then Eddie’s cockhead is pushing against his rim and breaching him and it’s-

It’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s everything Steve can think about now because Eddie’s cock is opening him deliciously, the stretch burns a little but Eddie is going so tenderly slow that Steve wants to scream.

“Fu-uck, Steve, you’re so tight,” Eddie moans, arms trembling at either side of Steve’s head. “I bet you’ve never played with your little hole before, huh?”

Eddie’s words go directly to Steve’s cock, dripping precum and forming a puddle on his belly. He shakes his head, whimpering.

“Holy fuck, Stevie, baby, you’re so hot and wet, you’re swallowing me, so fucking good, does it feel good for you too?”

“So good, Eddie, please, please.”

Eddie bottoms out and stays still for a moment, kisses Steve sloppily and lets him adjust to this new, intrusive sensation.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

“I’m so full, Eddie,” Steve manages to moan, arms wrapping around Eddie’s neck. “So fucking full, like, I can feel you in my throat full.”

Eddie laughs at that, his cock twitches inside Steve, and they both pant at it. Eddie’s hips roll backwards just as slowly, and the slick slide of his cock is enough to drive Steve insane, until he pushes forward again in a long. fluid and quicker thrust, and Steve wails.

“More, more, Eddie, more!” He demands, already addicted to this.

“Fuck, yes, Stevie my love,” Eddie mumbles, thrusting in a little bit harder, a little deeper, while Steve scratches his back desperately.

Eddie fucks him a little sloppily, but he does roll his hips artfully and aims for something, changing the angle from time to time. It’s good, it’s so good and Steve feels so good, he feels floaty and safe. He loves the slide in and out, the drag of Eddie’s cock, how it presses against his inner walls.

And then Eddie changes the angle again, pushing Steve’s legs further against his chest, and bucks his hips in. His cock presses inside Steve against some fucking magnificent spot that makes him scream his pleasure, fingers curling around Eddie’s curls and tugging at them, trying to groudn himself and failing but never wanting Eddie to stop.

“Fuck, Eddie, fuck me there, there, holy fucking- don’t stop, Eds, right there!” He yells nonsensically, and Eddie grins at him.

“There?” He asks, aiming for the same spot as before, and Steve can feel tears stinging his eyes, maybe rolling down his cheeks, he doesn’t know.

“Eddie, Eds, more, more, mo- ah, shit!”

The metalhead has a great aiming, once he has found that little spot, because now he’s hitting on it with every single thrust, and he obeys and fucks Steve as he requested, abusing of Steve’s sweet spot and making him wail every time.

“Stevie, Steve baby, I’m not- Fuck, I’m not gonna last, you’re so fucking loud and you feel so good, fuck me, Steve, you’re perfect, I want to come like this, please, let me come, Steve, please baby, tell me you’re close because I need to come insdie you-”

Eddie’s desperate pleas and thrusts push Steve towards the edge. He tries to sneak a hand between their bodies to touch himself, but Eddie buries himself deep inside him and grinds, stroking Steve’s sweet spot and that’s it.

His whole body shivers and trembles when his orgasm hits him, so different from the one he’s used to, so much more intense and earth-shattering. He thinks he wails, but he can’t be sure because he blacks out for a second. He comes back to a cursing Eddie, thrusting inside him unevenly and wildy, babbling non-sense and praise to Steve.

“Oh my fucking- God, Steve, you just came untouched, holy fuck, Stevie, that’s so hot, I can’t believe how hot you are. Holy shit, you’re so tight, I can feel you clenching all around me, fuck fuck fuck, Steve, I want to fuck you again and again, oh my- Oh fuck, yes, I’m gonna-”

Steve moans when Eddie thrusts in one last time and starts grinding, flushing their hips together and groaning, eyes shutted down and face contorted in pleasure, lips bitten red and skin shining with sweat.

He lets himself plop over Steve’s body, smearing the already cooling come between them. Not like Steve cares at all, he simply hugs Eddie and caresses his back soothingly until Eddie comes back down from his orgasm.

“Holy- Jesus Christ, Steve, so hot,” Eddie says with a weak thread of voice. “Steve, baby, please tell me it was good for you too, because I’m a fucking changed man, dude, I saw the light I swear.”

“Dude,” Steve snorts, and that makes Eddie’s softening cock twitch inside him still.

Eddie kisses him lazily, messily, and it’s perfect, they both are smiling, feeling sated and sticky and Steve needs a shower, but he’s happy. Oh, so fucking happy.

“Stevie.”

“Hm?”

“It was good for you too?” Again that need or reassurance. Steve holds Eddie tight against him.

“Eddie, it was fucking amazing, I didn’t know I could come just like, without touching my fucking cock,” Steve reassures him, Eddie lets out a satisfied hum. “I can’t wait for you to do this to me again.”

Eddie looks at him, eyes hopeful and wonderfully alive.

“You still want me to stay at your place tonight?”

“Eds,” Steve kisses the tip of his nose. “I don’t want you to leave my side at all, baby.”

Eddie’s wide grin is everything, bathed by the dim bulb of the dashboard light, and Steve thinks that he has seen paradise tonight, just here in his beemer, under the rain.

[cryptiqish]

some quick thoughts on nerdy prudes must die

first off - this is 100% a return to form for starkid for me. tgwdlm was like. lighting in a bottle but i really, really am not a fan of black friday - so i dipped after that, and never really looked into nightmare time etc. as i'm not super into the hatchetfield eldritch lore stuff - honestly, i figured i was aging out of it. THAT SAID. holy shit. npmd is brilliant

every single goddamn song is a banger. every one. it's so rare for me to like everything at least to a little bit, but when i can interchange my entire top 5 you know it's brilliant. high school is killing me, nerdy prudes must die, dirty girl, hatchet town...all top tier starkid in general. up there w tgwdlm

angela giarratana and will branner steal this entire show. absolutely insane stuff from both of them. will in particular...oh man. it's his show and you just KNOW it

oh shit!!! oh fuck!!!! i didnt think thered be a skele'uhn here... im so fucking scared of skele'uhnz!!!

it's FUNNY

i <3 the weird anime nerd kid. rip king

jon's vocals and just. general range in this is amazing to see from tgwdlm

 i will say i wish this maintained the more straight slasher vibe of the first act all the way through but that’s just personal preference since i'm less into the overarching eldritch lore stuff as mentioned. with that in mind though, i didn't find the lords in black stuff as jarring as i thought i would (and the summoning's a banger) - so it works narratively. i think at the end of the day i prefer my standalone shows - not everything needs to be an extended universe - so i was pleasantly surprised at how relatively well this could function as its own thing.

following that - i think this is the closest starkid's gotten to like, off-broadway quality - with plot modifications i could 100% see it making the jump. the production quality - of both the musical itself and the proshot, is amazing - everything pops, it's incredibly polished and just looks brilliant (again, such a step up from BF.)

shoutout to the costume design in particular. top tier work again. ghost max looked crazy good.

for something that in actuality didn't get a lot of focus...can’t stop thinking about how the whole max jagerman grace chastity dynamic is like the absolute HARDEST thing to randomly come out of starkid. the implicit themes had absolutely no right to go that hard!!!! it’s a silly horror comedy!

devout repressed christian and a boy that thinks he’s god. and then she deals with the first sign of sexual attraction to him by killing him??

and then his ghost comes back for vengeance, viewing it as divine justice - and then she ends the musical enacting her own vengeful divine justice?? straight up with modified reprise of his song?? they’re one and the same?? the prayer motif???

“will you pray for me / when i’m gone / or is this the eternal dark without a dawn” and “who will pray for you / when your body’s gone” is like the rawest motif of all time and it’s in the same musical that has an ten minute long barbecue joke sequence unrelated to the plot

nothing sexier than the motif of killing god and god killing you, in general. i do think i loved this one because it played with a lot of my fave tropes and themes of horror - high school slasher, archetypes, coming back wrong, religion, all that

"the big game" kept cracking me up it's so dumb and yet

anyway this whole thing just felt like we've unlocked...i dunno, a new level of starkid?? i was blown away and i'm sure for those more invested in hatchetfield beyond tgwdlm it hit even more, but it's left me so excited to see what's next from them for the first time in years.

[joonslfttiddie]

The Underclassman

💜Fic Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

💜AU/Genre: College AU | Smut | Potential Relationship

💜Warnings: Smut, femdom, male sub, climax denial, unprotected sex, ejaculation, virgin's first time

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 4781

Senior year of undergrad has had its challenges but you know it's downhill from here. Having gotten a jump on your assignments, you're pretty much skating through until graduation. Your only obligations are your teaching assistant tasks for Dr. Yun's psychology class, your job at the bookstore, and a few organizations on campus.

While things have been chill regarding course work, this year has also shown you who has your best interest at heart and who is just a waste of space in your life. Depending on how you look at things, fortunately or unfortunately, that meant that your ex-boyfriend was one of the people to exit your world. The two of you had been together since freshman year, and it has not been easy adjusting to the single life.

You haven't been on a date since, and just looking at other men still feels wrong. Your ex was always the jealous, controlling type who made it hard to breathe, as you walked on eggshells around him, which made you feel powerless.

"Honestly, I never liked your ex. It felt like all of your time was owed to him... like he owned you. You deserve so much better than him."

Your friend, René, opens up to you during a night of chilling at your apartment, sitting in a circle, cross legged in the middle of your living room floor. Your other friends, Michelle and Ticole, just shake their heads in agreement before taking a sip of their beers.

"I know, I know. You're right. I can see now how devoted I was to him. I was willing to give him everything I had. Of course, we now know he was giving his time, amongst other things, to someone else...but it's whatever."

Michelle chimes in, "It is whatever. This is our senior year. I just want you to take your time to find yourself again. Get out! Date! Enjoy your hoe phase. Plus, my boyfriend's mentee asks me about you every time I see him. That boy is in love."

"Girl, who? Seokjin?! I catch him eyeing me every other day in Dr. Yun's class but he has yet to say anything to me sooooo....."

"Don't do him like that...He is so sweet but so shy. He's one of those guys that's hot but doesn't know he's hot."

You all erupt into laughter and as the excitement subsides you agree.

"You're right, he is so cute but I never really looked at him like that. He has been such a sweetheart every time I've interacted with him but I dunno if he's my type, you know? Hell, he still refers to me as 'ma'am', like, I literally only have a couple of years on him, if that."

"He mentioned to Chance that he was not the best looking guy in high school. He was bullied because he was so skinny, had bad acne, braces, and glasses.. the usual "nerd" package. I, legit, don't think he realizes that puberty has come and gone. I wonder if he just doesn't have the confidence to approach you."

"Hmm... that would make sense. I hate that he went through all that. He seems so sweet despite being mistreated. I'll think about it, ok? But as far as 'enjoying my hoe phase' goes, guys fuck around all the time and no one bats an eye. I hate the double standard. I'm going to have the time of my life for the rest of the year. I deserve it, plus I've been horny as fuck, lately."

"Girl, go for it! I support this. Live your best life, friend. You've missed out on a lot being tied down like a married woman. Go get you some. And you never know, having that underclassman screaming 'yes, ma'am' may be just what you need!" Ticole says, co-signing with Michelle.

You all erupt into a fit of laughter at that and you take notice of the way your body feels from just imagining it. As heat burns up your spine and your pussy tingles, you swallow spit as you're basically salivating with excitement. Knowing what will make for some good material when you're alone later, you reply with a nervous chuckle, "Maybe, huh?"

Your girls were right! You're going to start putting yourself out there and try to be more open minded. After a restful night and having used mental images of Seokjin to gain a little post nut clarity, you begin to think that you may even explore people outside of your typical type. Internalizing all the encouragement your girls provided last night, you walk to Dr. Yun's class feeling like the baddest bitch on campus.

After taking attendance, you make a mental note that Seokjin isn't here yet. He never misses class but you shrug it off for the moment to continue your duties. You remind the students of upcoming assignments, schedule a few tutoring sessions, and answer any questions to the best of your knowledge until the professor arrives moments later. He hands you a stack of handouts and asks you to make copies since he hadn't gotten a chance to while the class takes a quiz. You grab your phone from the desk and slide it in the pocket of your cardigan before swiftly proceeding down the hall to the printer.

You turn the corner, finding yourself colliding with a student who is frantically rushing to class, landing you on your ass surrounded by the papers you were carrying, you quickly adjust your clothes as your skirt has flipped up, putting your lace undies on full display.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I woke up late and can't be late for class. I have a quiz today."

You recognize that voice immediately and look up to see Seokjin. He quickly tries to collect the paperwork as he chatters, taking a moment to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

'He couldn't have seen that, right?'

"Hey! No worries, Seokjin, I can get this. Go ahead... they're just about to begin."

After hearing his name cross your lips, he finally looks up to see your face. With a gasp, you notice his ears flush red before he responds.

"Miss y/n! I'm so sorry! Are you sure you're okay?" He pulls you up to your feet with one hand, allowing you to further adjust your clothing before handing you the papers he'd collected.

"Yes, I'm fine. Hurry up and go. Good luck!"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry."

Seokjin smiles nervously before he rushes past you towards the classroom.

You make the copies and begin heading back to class, unable to stop replaying the incident with Seokjin. Has he always been so cute? So tall? Shoulders that broad? Biting your bottom lip, you recall the way his hair hung just above his eyes and his full pink lips slightly parted when he gasped from the shock of your accident. He looked so nerdy behind those glasses, but his brown eyes were breathtaking.

'Why am I just seeing him now... like really SEEING him?!'

You're thinking about all of this as you make the copies, sure that you hadn't noticed Seokjin's beauty for being so committed to you ex. You were blind for so long but now your eyes are wide open.

Back in the classroom, you quietly place the stack of papers on the desk, glancing up to see the student's working busily. Once you take your designated spot next to Dr. Yun's desk, you cross your legs and begin looking through the rows of seats until you spot him. Hunching over his desk and bouncing his foot restlessly, the poor guy looks so anxious. The sight leaves him looking so small and helpless, though he is definitely a deliciously full grown adult.

You glance away for a second but can't help the smirk that creeps across your face when you catch him suddenly still, sitting erect in his seat as his eyes trace your up legs all the way up to your thighs peeking from under your skirt. After making sure everyone else was focused on their work, you put your leg down and part your knees, now purposely exposing yourself to him. He licks his lips, then his eyes meet yours. Snapping your legs shut, you look down, covering your smile as you snicker to yourself. His nervous behavior commences as his gaze quickly snaps back down to his quiz, but not before you notice his face and ears turn a pretty shade of pink. What is this new feeling? You are not certain but you are 100% sure that you love it. You want more.

A couple of days have passed since literally running into Seokjin when you find yourself at work refolding the campus tees on one of the display tables, you glance at your watch to see it's almost time for you to clock out. It's been beautiful weather all day, despite what the weather channel said, but you can see the sky getting darker and you can hear thunder in the distance.

"It looks like the rain has finally made it," you warn your coworker. "Get home safely!"

Thankfully you check the weather every morning before leaving your campus apartment and was wise enough to bring your umbrella.

You grab your things from your locker in the employee lounge after clocking out. Once outside, you make it halfway across the yard to the fountain in the middle of the quad before you feel the first few sprinkles of rainfall. You stop to arm yourself with your umbrella before continuing your trek across campus as the bottom falls out of the sky. It is pouring now as you cross the street nearing your place, and you notice a familiar figure walking ahead of you.

He's soaking! He doesn't have an umbrella or even a jacket to keep him warm. You can tell that he's cold by the way he burrows into himself. The ripples of his back muscles are accentuated through his wet, white tee shirt as he hugs himself.

"SEOKJIN!"

He stops and turns towards you after hearing his name.

"Miss y/n? What are you doing out in this storm?"

You hold up the umbrella to cover you both.

"I'm just leaving work and on my way home. What are you doing out? And why don't you have a jacket on or an umbrella?"

He smiles shyly.

"Ummm...I didn't know it was going to rain today so I'm unprepared. I was going to the cafe to grab a bite before studying but it started to storm so I turned back."

"You poor thing. Why don't you come up to my place until the rain stops? I haven't eaten yet, either, so I can whip something up for us to eat."

"Uhhh...are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude. Plus, I only live a ways down from here."

Linking your arm in his, you continue to shield you both from getting wet while pulling him alongside you.

"It's no intrusion, I promise. Since it's Friday, my roommate has gone to her boyfriend's place, so I could use the company."

You smile at each other as he takes the umbrella to hold above you and continue to chat as you make your way up the stairs leading to your door. When you step inside, you ask that he stay at the door where there's tile as he's still dripping wet.

"Just stay there for a second. You're soaked. I know there's a towel in here somewhere."

After a moment of searching through the hamper of fresh laundry you hadn't gotten a chance to put away before work, you finally find a towel and hand it to him after he's secured the umbrella strap and placed it in the corner.

"Thanks, Miss y/n. I really appreciate your kindness."

"Of course! We've known each other for years now. You're not exactly a stranger at this point, so it's no problem at all. While you're drying your hair, I'll go see if my roommate's boyfriend may have left some clothes here. You guys are about the same size. Go ahead and get out of those clothes before you catch a cold."

This wouldn't be the first time you've seen a man undress so you're not thinking much about what you just said and rush off to your roommates bedroom to find a large tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. You stay frozen for a second as the situation suddenly catches up to you. You and Seokjin are alone in your apartment and he's undressing in the other room. Ticole's words echo in your mind. 'Get you some!' Michelle's voice lingers closely behind. 'Enjoy your hoe phase!'

'Am I really thinking about this now?! Does he even think of me in THAT way? He seems so innocent, I don't want to be a bad influence or take advantage of him.

You continue to stand there, contemplating your next move. Sure, he is extra dorky at first glance, but when you really look at him, you see now that he is fine as fuck. He, also, doesn't talk to a lot of people so you know he's not sleeping around and he will be discreet about what happens. This could be a good thing, if he's willing, of course. You take a deep breath before you leave the room, only to walk out and see Seokjin wearing nothing but his jeans and sneakers. You gasp at the sight, hoping he didn't hear you. Sure, you knew he would be undressing but you didn't expect that body to be under those clothes. God definitely took his time sculpting him to perfection.

When he looks up to see you've returned, he shyly covers himself with the wet shirt and towel leaving his free hand grasping his spectacles across his chest. There's that feeling again...the one you experienced during class the other day. You clear your throat and walk over to him to give him the clothes, trying your best not to stare.

"M-miss y/n. I-"

"Oh... sorry! I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. Here are the clothes. I can step out for a second."

Reluctantly, he drops the shirt and towel to the floor by his side but his other hand holding on to his glasses remains across his chest as he reaches for the outfit.

Just above a whisper, he asks, "I've been meaning to talk to you. Are you ok? You know from the other day? I was hoping you weren't hurt and I wanted to apologize again. And no, I'm not uncomfortable, you know? I just...I."

"No, I'm completely fine, I promise. And it's no problem at all. I'll step out to give you some privacy."

"Miss y/n."

"Hmm?" You pause to look up to him, awaiting his response.

"You don't have to leave. I don't want you to leave, I just..."

The look on his face teeters on the cusp of pain and embarrassment.

"What's up? You look like there's something else you want to tell me."

"Miss y/n."

"Stop calling me that, though. I'm only a couple years older than you."

"Y-y/n?" He pauses for a moment to see if he's overstepped. When you continue to look into his chocolate colored pupils, he continues speaking. "I've never done this before."

"Done what?"

He leans over to place the clothes on the end table putting his glasses on top. He stands back to face you, taking your wrist in his hand. His eyes bounce from your eyes to your lips, then back. You can see he's nervous as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"What do you want to do, Sweet Boy? Do you want to kiss me?"

The nickname and the question causes his eyes to widen, the reddish hue of his ears and cheeks deepen.

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, ma'am. I want to kiss you so bad."

"Good boy. Go ahead, kiss me."

He hesitates, standing straight and still, your small wrist still gripped in his hand. He's looking into your eyes as if searching to see if you're serious. After what feels like forever, he tilts his head to the side and leans in, only to pull back. Shifting his head in the opposite direction, he leans in again only to pull away. He continues this for a moment, unsure of how to approach you. This would usually be a huge turn off for you but with him it's different. His uncertainty and timidness seems to just stir you on.

"Kiss me."

Your sudden command startles him slightly and he quickly leans in, placing his mouth against yours, bumping your lip with his teeth. He pulls back quickly as if he were burned. Patiently, you take his hands, placing one on the small of your back and the other at your nape. Taking a step forward, your body now flush to his, you can hear his breath shuttering. His very prominent bulge presses against your stomach as you place one hand on his exposed chest and snake your arm around his neck.

"Don't rush. I'm not going anywhere. Take your time and try again."

Slowly this time, he moves in to softly press his lips to yours before he pulls away, the smooch audible. You gently pull him back, slowly beginning to move your mouth against his, licking and sucking at his lips. When your tongue brushes against his, he whimpers aloud, grasping your shirt into his fist. Pulling back, you look up to check in on him. The dorky Seokjin is barely visible under the haze of lust now surrounding him. He bends down, taking your lips again. Mimicking your actions from before, he licks and sucks at your bottom lip before grazing your tongue with his own. Slightly taken aback by the feeling, you pull back to regain control of this situation. When he releases you, you step back and can feel the coldness of your shirt against your skin, now wet from being pressed against him.

"That was so good, Baby. You did good. Would you like to take the rest of those wet clothes off?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You smile at how quickly he's catching on. Still standing at the entrance of your place, Seokjin begins to toe off his shoes which squish with every movement. Sliding them to the side with his foot, he begins to unbutton his jeans, hands noticeably trembling. You're unsure if he's still cold or if he's nervous so you decide to check in again.

"Are you ok? Do you want to stop?"

"Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am... I'm ok. I don't want to stop, I'm just c-cold."

"Take those off and follow me...let's get you warmed up."

Removing your now moist shirt, you begin walking down the hallway to your bedroom. Seokjin watches as your hips sashay and your ass jiggles with every step you take. He continues to peel the wet jeans from his body. Now, wearing only his boxer briefs, he follows the route he just watched you take. Inside of your bedroom, he finds you already in bed, clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor. He bashfully makes his way to the edge of the bed, awaiting further instruction.

"Aren't those wet, too? Don't you think you should take them off?"

"Are you sure you're ok with this? With me?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be? Take them off, Sweet Boy, and come here."

When he pulls them down, you have to hide the shock that overcomes you. His dick looks so thick and heavy. Your heart begins to race in anticipation. Once he's completely naked, you pull the covers back as an invitation for him to climb in. He seems reluctant, trying and failing to cover his manhood behind his hands.

"Seokjin, baby...we don't have to do anything you aren't ready for. I won't be upset and I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do."

"NO! It's not that. I want this, I want this with you. But, like I mentioned, I've never done this before...I'm a virgin. Shit, you just gave me my first kiss. I'm sorry...I should have told you sooner. I'll just leave. I don't want to embarrass myself and waste your time."

"Awww, Baby. It's ok! I don't care that you're a virgin. I want you to stay but only if you want to stay."

"Yes, ma'am, I do."

"I promise to be patient. I'm not here to judge you. I won't rush you so just take your time. Would you like for me to teach you?"

He nods his head in agreement.

"Have you ever heard of a 'safeword'?"

"Is it a word we would use to indicate that we are uncomfortable with something?"

"That's exactly what it is. If either of us say or do anything that the other doesn't like, we'll use that word. The other has to stop immediately."

"Ok...what should it be? Could we use Adler?"

You laugh out loud at his cuteness. "Ok... that's fine with me, but why did you choose that?"

"I don't know. His theory was the last thing I looked at when I was studying for Professor Yun's test earlier. It's the first thing that popped into my head," he laughs bashfully while still trying to cover his manhood.

"Adler it is. You can lay with me whenever you feel ready."

With that reassurance, he places his trust in you, removes his hands, and climbs into the sheets. Covering your bodies under the plush blanket, you pull him closer to share your body heat. Resting your head on one hand, you caress his smooth skin with the other. His body continues to tremble but not from the cold this time. Your touch is sending electricity through his core leaving his skin slightly clammy and his breathing shallow and quick.

"I've seen the way you stare at me in class. Do you like me, baby?"

His expression looks as if he'd been caught red handed.

"Y-yes, ma'am. Yes, I do."

"Have you thought about being close with me like this? In bed with me? Touching my naked body?"

His breath hitches in his throat before he answers the same as before.

"Y-y...Yes, ma'am."

"Do you ever touch yourself when you think of me? Does the thought of me make you cum, baby?"

You're practically whispering at this point, inches from his ear. Your hand travels down his abs then along his thigh, skipping the tented area where he needs and wants your touch the most. His erection jerks from the excitement, his body spasms, and his shallow breaths now deepen as he whimpers and moans under your touch. You know he's fighting for his life at this moment but you decide to press him for an answer.

"Did you hear my question? Answer me, Seokjin."

Still inaudible minus his tiny whimpers, he nods his head frantically in agreement.

"I can't hear you. Are you not going to answer me? Do you know what happens to bad boys who don't follow directions? They get punished."

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly in anticipation of what you'll do next. As he clenches his teeth, you can see the muscles along his jawline flex.

"Bad boy," you say softly, pulling the blanket off of him to reveal his hardness. His dick is so firm making his skin look extra smooth but painfully red. The precum leaking from his slit indicates he's enjoying this torture. "Show me. Show me how you jerk yourself off when you're in your room thinking about me."

You sit up briefly to grab the almond oil you'd left on your nightstand this morning after moisturizing your legs. Opening the cap, you pour a bit on the head of his dick and watch as it drizzles down his shaft along the contours of his veins.

"Show me, bad boy. Let me see."

His hand tremors as he brings it up to fist himself. Using his thumb, he distributes the oil and precum over his tip before slowly gliding down his rod. He grunts and gasps as his abs contract, lifting his head from the pillow slightly. He moves his fist back up to the top, barely touching himself.

"Look at me, Seokjin."

He opens his eyes, though they are hooded and lazy. Your heart flutters at the sight. He holds eye contact and his plush lips part as his pants, ready to receive his punishment.

"Squeeze tighter. Imagine my tight pussy slowly sliding down your dick. I'm so wet and juicy."

Following your instruction, he applies more pressure. Still looking into your eyes, his brows furrow as if begging for more. He begins to pick up speed as he's almost there.

"Slowly. Rub your thumb over the tip."

And he does, slowly smearing more precum over the head of his penis. You can tell that he's close to the edge. You allow him to stroke himself a few more times before you grab his wrist, stopping him.

"I want you inside of me. I want you begging me to let you cum."

You grab your phone before moving back towards him. Straddling his hips as he looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. You lift up onto your knees and guide him into you.

"Oh, oh, oh, y/n! Oh! OH!"

He is a mess as you slowly lower your soaking wet pussy to sit flush onto his lap.

"What a nice seat. I think I'll sit here for a while. Don't move."

You unlock your device and start to scroll through your Instagram feed as you're perched motionless with his dick buried deep inside of you. He feels so good and it's a challenge for you to remain still, sitting in this dominant role. You look up to see him looking up to you. The slight chuckle that leaves your lips causes your walls to tighten briefly around him. His whimpers cause you clench even more. He hisses and grabs your hips, sinking his nails into your skin. Simultaneously, he pulls you down as he grinds up to burrow deeper into you. You swallow your moan, unwilling to relinquish your newfound power. You lean forward to firmly grab his chin, bringing his eyes up to yours.

"I said...Be. Still," you whisper. You leave him heaving as you continue to scroll on your phone, putting on as if you're not ready to ride him off the cliff of ecstasy. His little pleas making it harder to act.

"Hmmm...Pleeeease! I c-can't. Y-y/n, please. I can't... can't hold it anymore."

"You can't hold it? Do you need to use the word, baby."

His brows are winkling tighter, sweat pecking at his forehead and chest. You adjust yourself, purposely lifting your body only to follow the trail of moisture you've left smeared on his dick to sit back down.

"N-no... I can't. I can't hold it, y/n! A-ADLER!"

"Go ahead, baby. Let it go."

With your permission, he grips you tighter and pounds into you. Seokjin bares and grinds his teeth, his grunts becoming louder with every stroke. He controls himself for as long as he can, lasting for approximately ten seconds before he explodes, painting your walls with his cum. He feels so amazing, you to want to continue to move. His whining grows louder as his sensitivity increases. Stopping for a moment to allow him to catch his breath, you push the hairs stuck to his forehead away and caress his cheek.

"Are you ok, babe?" Your voice sounds so loving, laced with tenderness.

Seokjin opens his eyes to look at you before he replies, "Yes, ma'am. I'm ok...more than ok. That was better than any of my daydreams, better than I could have ever imagined. You feel so good, so warm, so wet. You look so beautiful sitting on me like this. Thank you so much for this experience."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. You're doing so well."

"But you are too sexy, I couldn't restrain myself. The nickname you called me... the way you spoke to me... your dominance. Whew! But, I came way too fast, I'm so sorry. I wasn't able to pleasure you."

Looking at him, you can see that he's oozing with confidence. Confidence you're sure he's unaware that he carries. You both continue conversing as he softly traces tiny circles on your calves with his fingertips.

"Stop that...you're being too hard on yourself. You did great and this was your first time! You'll get better the more you do it. And you feel amazing, by the way. You just have to learn what to do and gain more experience."

"Ummm... could you help me with that, y/n?"

"Of course, Sweet Boy, I would love to help you with that."

He blushes and chuckles a little with a voice that sounds deeper than you remember. "Really?! Thank you so much, y/n. I never would have imagined I'd be able to be here with you, like this. I'm, literally, the luckiest man alive. Also... I am still inside of you but the way you're looking at me, well, I'm getting hard again. What should I do?"

You can't contain your laugher at his innocence.

"Well, baby, you just came. Now it's my turn."

"Yes ma'am... just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it. Anything you want. I want to learn how to please you."

[sammysstolenbirks]

hello! im so excited to bring you...

silver storm

thank you to @cooperalert for the mood board and @alljsonn @cooperalert (again) and @period-stain69 for the playlist. this is my first time writing anything of this sort so have mercy but please send me any criticisms you have so i can continue to grow and maybe do more of this in the future :)

i have no idea how many parts it'll be, im just letting it flow out. it could be 10 or 100 but im so excited to write more.

WARNINGS

angst, sexual themes, swearing, mentions of mental health issues, use of substances

-

Y/N POV

The same comforting feeling floods my body as I knock on the door of my closest friends house, Joshua. We'd been attached at the hip ever since that one fateful day i joined a theater summer camp in my hometown of Frankenmuth, Michigan. I was 9 years old, scared shitless, and looking for a corner to hide in, a empty table to sit at, or a vacant wall to lean on. I'd been home schooled since I was old enough for school and never really had any interaction with any kids my age. My parents noticed i had been suffering with anxiety, so they did everything they could to get me out of the house. homeschool clubs, youth groups, you name it and I was there. They finally felt hopeless enough and signed me up for the summer camp where I would spend 2 weeks "getting out of my comfort zone" they said. Right. The first day everyone sat on the field and i tried my best to create the biggest gap I could between me and the other kids. I was humming a song when i heard a sound that made my head turn. A small mini van did a hard turn onto the road next to the field and stoped abruptly. i could hear muffled arguing before a small curly headed boy of about 9 or 10 was shoved out of the van by a kid the same age, I would later learn was his twin brother, Jake. The small boy tripped over his feet slightly before composing himself and flashing the huggest smile that made me feel immediately at ease. It was like strange, i had no idea who this boy was, but I felt as though he had erased every nervous thought I had in my brain.

He made his way to the middle of the field where everyone was congregating, looking around for somewhere to sit. I caught myself looking at him far too long before i returned my gaze to the trees surrounding the area, trying my best to distract myself from the overlapping conversations happening. after a little while of getting lost in my thoughts, i heard a voice to the left of me. I turned my head to find the same curly headed boy i saw earlier. "Hey, I'm Josh, can I sit next to you?" I stared at him before nodding my head and watched him as he sat next to me, crossing his legs together. I tried to think of something to say but became frustrated with myself, as i didnt have any idea what to do. It's like he read my mind as he started again "what's your name?"

"Y/n."

He smiled at me and nods "it's nice to meet you. Wanna be friends?" He extended his hand out for me to shake it, which I thought was weird as I saw only grown ups doing it. Still, I smiled and gave him my hand, and from that first touch grew the first, and strongest friendship I would have with anyone else. We grew up doing everything together and even after he graduated and i was still in high school we hung out every single day. He's still living in Frankenmuth, working on his band and film. Josh and his twin turned 21 last month and I turned 18 a few days after him.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking and opening wide. "Hey kid, come in I have everything set up." Josh says as he flashes me that same smile that made me tied to him all those years ago. I walk in, making sure to bump his shoulder as I walk by and laugh "I told you already stop calling me that"

"I'll stop calling you that when you grow three years older, how about that"

"Fuck off" I laughed at his ridiculous offer and plop myself on the couch. I see the popcorn on the table and our favorite movie, Labyrinth, paused and ready on the TV. We watch a movie every Friday night and haven't missed a night since we were young. Even when Josh broke his leg and was in the hospital, he made me come over and watch Madagascar, because it was the only thing on.

"Where's everyone else? It's strangly quiet." I ask him as he grabs drinks from the fridge

"Dads at business meeting which mom decided to tag along on, Ronnie's at her friends house, Sams upstairs, and Jake is with 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦 again" Josh says as he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Ah, I should've known. Why don't they just get married already? They've been together for what, 4 years now?"

"You're asking the wrong person, kid"

Josh chuckles as he puts the drinks on the table and takes his seat next to me and presses play on the remote. About 10 minutes in, I see him starting to doze off which makes me laugh as he has never made it through an entire movie in his life. he notices me laughing and punches me in the arm which makes me laugh even more.

I turn my focus back to the screen and watch for a good amount of time before I jump at the sound of a door swinging open upstairs. This makes Josh stir from his sleep as i see his brother come down the stairs.

Sam.

The youngest in the Kiszka family circus.

The most aggravating

My sworn enemy

And

My first kiss

I came to Josh's house for a party when i was a freshman and he was a junior. It had a decent amount of people, as far as high school parties go. I stuck with Josh and watched as Jake hung with his crowd, the band kids, and Sam hung with his, the asshole stoners. Fitting. The night went on pretty smoothly and we all found ourselves in the basement playing the most adolescent game known to man.

7 minutes in heaven

Everyone took their turns spinning the bottle and disappearing into the "love shack" as Josh called it. When it was my turn, I spun begrudgingly and my heart stopped as it landed on Sam. Long story short, we went to the closet, kissed once and ONLY once, and returned to the circle. Later on in the night, i was sitting on the couch as I heard Sam talking to his friends, trying to be quiet but failing miserably.

"So what happened in there man? Did she, you know" one friend says as he brings his mouth to his hand, mimicking what looked like he was shaking a salt shaker into his mouth.

Sams breath caught in his throat as he responded simply with a shurg and a smug grin. His friends began whooping and hollering, patting him on the back and laughing.

My jaw dropped to the floor as I saw the scene play out. I felt a deep wave of anxiety fall over me. Why didn't he correct them? What are they going to think of me? What is Josh going to think of me? My mind spiraled and spiraled untill only one emotion consumed me wholly.

Pure. Fucking. Rage.

Grabbing my drink, I got up from the couch, nearly knocking myself over with the amount of force used, made my way across the room to Sam and tapped on his shoulder, making him turn and throw on that same smug grin he had used just moments before. It quickly faded as I threw the contents of my cup directly into his face. He was livid.

And I was satisfied.

I tried my best to avoid interaction with him after that point, but we're in the same grade which makes it hard. Not to mention I'm over at their house basically daily with Josh.

I groan as I see the raven haired boy descend down the stairs which gets me a glare from him as he continues to the kitchen getting a glass of water. i ignore his presence as I check my phone. 11:07, shit. "Josh it's getting kinda late I have to get going"

He looks at me with his biggest puppy dog eyes "not yet y/n please we haven't finished the movie"

"You act as if we haven't seen it a million times" i say, letting out a chuckle.

He sees I'm not going to budge before nodding and getting up to walk me out. As I collect my things, i become aware of Sam's presence again, hearing him quietly laugh. I whip my head around to look at him, leaning against the fridge, his water in hand. "What's so funny?"

he returns my glare, his dark eyes piercing into mine, "oh nothing, you guys are just so pathetic. Watching the same movies over and over every single Friday. It's insane"

"Well lucky for you, you're not invited so you don't have to be 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦 with us" I say as I send him a fake smile.

"Thank god" He rolls his eyes.

Josh scoffs as he opens the door for me and on my way out I make sure to flip Sam off, an action which I'm sure he reciprocated, but I couldn't find myself to care enough to turn around and look.

Josh follows me to my car and stops me before I get in

"You know life would be so much easier of you both could get along. Maybe not even that, just acting... Civil?"

"He started it with that fucking comment. Who does he think he is?"

"He is kind of right, I mean you said it yourself, we have seen some of these a million times"

"Yeah but it's Sam, we can say that stuff, he can't"

Josh shakes his head and smiles softly "look, all I'm saying is maybe try to ignore him at least? Maybe if he sees you stop reacting, he'll stop, and we can all sing kumbaya and hold hands and all that shit" he laughs again and starts singing kumbaya.

I laugh at him and shove his shoulder. I accept his idea, I could never say no to him "yeah okay I'll try, but no way in hell I'm singing that"

"Worth a shot" he puts his hands in his pockets before gasping "oh I forgot to ask, is there a chance of you auditioning for the play this year" he says with a mischievous smirk.

"Aha. That's hilarious. Might actually be the funniest thing you've ever said" I say as I get in my car laughing dryly.

"Aw come on kid. It could be fun? Besides, guess who they asked to be assistant director" He says with a proud smile

"Jake?"

He laughs and playfully shoves me "Yeah basically. Seriously though I'm really excited. I was really upset i wouldn't have any more stressful opening nights, bittersweet closing nights, dress rehearsals that go until 10pm, last minute freak outs before you go on stage." he pauses for a moment smiling to himself "but now it's like I'm not leaving at all"

I smile at him and find myself admiring the way he's so passionate about theater. Some people were just born for it, and that's exactly what Josh was. Born for the spotlight. He always got the lead role, partially because no other guys auditioned, but mostly because he was the best actor that school had. And they knew it too. If Josh wasn't more passionate about his music, I could see him going on to Broadway and shining even brighter there. This town didn't deserve him. Hell, I don't deserve him. But somehow I got him, and he has me.

"Im really happy for you Josh, but I don't know if I even can audition. I don't even know what the play is to begin with"

He smiles at me and grabs my hand "Romeo and Juliet. It's one of my favorites so you have to audition for me, please? i would die from heartbreak if you didn't." he says fake crying.

I shake my head laughing at him "fine fine I'll give it a shot, but you have to help me out."

"But of course madam. You will have the best teacher," motioning to himself and bowing, "and you will take my place as star of the school"

"No one can outshine you Josh and you know it" I say as I laugh

He smiles warmly at me "thank you y/n but you know what? I think you can. It's just prevented by this" he says poking his finger on my temple. "Thats why I'm here. To support you and make sure you know you can do anything you put your mind to."

I can't help but look at him lovingly before getting out of my car to wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly, almost as if he was being pulled away. He rests his chin on my head and copies my action. We stay like this for a minute before i finally let go, realizing im really late. "I love you Josh thank you."

"I love you too kid" he says as he smiles

"So I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow then? Or are you helping from home?"

"No, yeah I'll be there tomorrow." He smiles "get home safe and save me a seat at lunch, it'll be just like old times"

"Always Josh" i say, flashing him smile before getting in my car and begin driving home. My mind races between the new stress of auditioning, and the old stress of Sam as I finally pull into my driveway. I open the door to my house to find it completely silent. my parents must've gone to bed. I take off my shoes and climb the stairs before closing myself in my room for the night. And as I doze off, i remember Josh's words which give me comfort and more admiration for the curly headed boy, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰.

JOSH POV

I watch as y/n drives away before walking back inside to see sam in the same position as before. I take my shoes off as I start to speak "you know-"

"I really don't have the energy for a lecture from you josh" sam says rolling his eyes.

I finish taking off my shoes and walk to the stairs, giving up on the conversation before i even try to start it "yeah apparently you don't have manners either. I would suggest trying to get some before you go too far one day and make me lose her."

"Yeah right, like you guys would ever spend a moment apart" Sam says scoffing.

"You sound jealous Sammy" I chuckle

"Shut the fuck up" sam says as he slams his glass in the sink and pushes passed me, speeding to his room and slamming the door. I can't help but laugh at his childish display. I make my way to my room and have no energy to change, so I just climb into bed. I scroll through Instagram for a bit before deciding it's time for bed, but quickly shoot a text to y/n

𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐡

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ���𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰, 𝐢𝐭'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧 :) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 🙃😚

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟏𝟏:𝟒𝟑

I close my phone and set it on my table before closing my eyes and drifting off.

part two sometime soon :)

sorry it's a little short but like i said this is my first fic so i think it's a good start

don't worry it'll get spicier 🤭

[rsedits9420]

Ok so this is like my first time writing, so don’t mind the grammar lol, but…. I just wanted to try it out because it honestly looks fun. So here’s my first fic ig? 🤷🏼‍♀️

Feelings.

Mark Estapa x reader

Btw y/n/n =your nick name and y/c = your color!

Theme- Mark and y/n have been best friends since they were kids. She moved with him to u-mich. Mark and y/n start to have difficulty finding their feelings for each other. That causes them to drift. Until one of them finally makes a move.

Word count: 2.0k

Y/n

I hate frat partys. It’s all so stupid. Who wants to go hang out with a bunch of drunk people who can’t control themselves? I guess Mark does. He drug me here, so he wouldn’t be “lonely”. This kid. He acts as if he has no game. He could easily get a girl on his hip. That for sure wasn’t the problem. Mark and I have been besties for almost 15 years. We meet in my backyard after he accidentally shot a puck into it. He climbed the fence just to meet with little ol’ me. He asked if I wanted to join him, and me being me I took the invite. Ever since that day on we have been inseparable. I went to every single one of his hockey games. Home or away. He never missed a Sunday night movie with me. We did everything together. He was even my date to all 4 homecomings and 2 proms. Our families have always said we will end up with each other one day. Oh god, I hope so. I’ve always thought mark was cute, but it really got terrible as soon as we got to college. How couldn’t I have known how attractive this guy was? I feel like a fool, because in no way will he ever feel the same. I stare across the room to see mark up against some sorority girl. She practically eating his face. I can’t help to feel a sense of jealousy. Then reality hit. He's a D1 hockey player and future NHL player and I’m just me. A girl is now sitting alone at a party staring at her best friend with another girl.

“Y/n come on I need you for pong!” Eddy yells. Ethan is the only one who knows about my true feelings. After Mark and him became roommates I spent a bunch of time in their dorm. Ethan is one of the most genuine people I have ever met. “I'm on my way Eddy!” I replied. Maybe this will help me take my mind off Mark.

As I walk up to Ethan, I'm met with the sight of Nolan doing a keg stand. These hockey boys have no shame. Moyle’s overall strap is currently falling down, starting to fall onto his face. That’s when he face plants right on the hardwood. I can’t help but laugh. “ Yo Moyle dude you okay?” Dylan ask. Nolan sits up looks at me and eddy and says,” Can I play y’all in pong now?” Never a dull moment with this crowd that’s for sure.

After Eddy and Dylan set up the game, I can’t help but wonder where Mark is. I turn to look to where I saw him last and notice he is nowhere in sight. All of a sudden Nolan yells,” Hey y/n are you ready or what?” I snap back into reality and grab the ball.

I’ve just downed my second cup, when I feel two hands grab a hold of my shoulders. “Y’all winning?” A familiar voice says. I turn around to be met with Mark’s gorgeous dark brown eyes. Ethan gasp offendedly. “Stop Sign you know me and her kick serious ass every time we play. How could you even ask if we are losing” he says sarcastically. Mark and I turn toward each other and chuckle. Eddy’s right. We are currently 7/7 and are beating Nolan and Dylan by a shit ton right now. I bounce the ball and it falls into the final cup. Ethan jumps up and grabs me while saying,” How the hell did you get so fucking good at this game? Seriously I need answers.” Truth be told it was Mark. At our first high school party he taught me how to play. Granted he taught me, but I’m still better. He hates that I’m better than him at something he taught me but I just think it’s ironic.

After the game, me, Eddy, and Mark all head to the living room. The three of us sit next to eachother on the couch, while talking about next semester. Its our last semester before sophomore year. Mark, Eddy, Dylan, Mackie, and Luke are all planning to get a house close to campus to stay at, while I am just trying to find an apartment away from people. I'm not a people person that's for sure. It took me a while to get closes to Mark’s friends and his team. Luckily all of them love me. I’m like the team's little sister. Or at least that's what Mark tells me that's what they say. Mackie walks into the room with Luke by his side and says,” Y/n come on! We got somebody who wants to meet you!” Mackie’s hand sticks out inviting me to go with him. I grab his hand a let him lead me down the hall and out that back door to reach the backyard. I’m met with a man about 5’11 with brown hair and he’s wearing a Michigan basketball jersey. “Okay so y/n this is Will, Will this is y/n!” The brown-haired man sticks out his hand and I capture it. “ Me, Hughsey, and Mack are in the same Sports Management class. I saw how bad yall beat the absolute crap out of Duker and Nolan. I'm going to be completely transparent here. It was hot.” A blush crept onto my cheeks. “Um, thanks,” I respond. Damn an attractive guy just flirted with me and all I could say was “Um thanks”. I want to shake myself. “ Well I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go get coffee sometime?” Will asked me. “Sure I would love to!” I say back. He quickly grabs a pen out of his back pocket and grabs a napkin and starts to write something on it. Soon after he hands me the napkin with his number on it. A cute guy just gave me his number. Is this a dream? I sure hope not because I've never felt this good.”

Then Mark’s tall frame appears right next to me and says,” Hey y/n/n we should probably leave if we want to make it to town by 10 tomorrow.” I look at Mark and then at Will. Mark was right we were going back home for the weekend to see our families. “Oh yeah. We probably should.” I turn back towards Will and say,” It was nice meeting you! See you soon!” And grab Mark's hand and head out of the frat house.

Mark

What the hell. Are Mackie and Luke trying to piss me off?

That’s all I can think of, as I’m walking out of the frat party hand in hand with y/n. Mack and Luke tried setting her up with Will Martin. Fucking Will. Everyone knows his games. He will act like a great guy on the outside, but on the inside he’s a huge womanizer. So why the hell are they trying to set him up with y/n. They know what she means to me. How much I care for her. And yet they still did it. I make a mental note to get them back at practice.

As me and y/n make it to my car, she looks up at me and says,”Hey Stops you okay bud?” Stops. The nickname she gave me the first time we met. And somehow it stuck. I look at her soft relaxed face and sigh. “ Yeah I’m okay. Just tired you know.” Hopefully she buys my lame reply. She just nods and gets into the car. I follow, and crank the engine. “So who was that guy you were talking to?” I say acting like I didn’t care. “I don’t really know. Mack and Hughsey said he was in one of their classes. His name is Will, but that’s pretty much all I know. Oh and he plays basketball.” She says pretty nonchalantly. “Oh and he asked me out for coffee.” She says shyly. “Isn’t that a good thing?” I responded. She looks at me with glossy eyes and says,”Well I don’t really think it will work. I mean look at him and then look at me? I’m nowhere near his league.” What?!?! Is that what she thinks? Because I think a hell of a lot more than that. If anything she’s out of HIS league. I try to calm down before saying,” Y/n, no. I know you might not think it, but you're beautiful. Don’t let anyone make you feel differently. And also if anything you're out of his league. Not the other way around.” She looks at me and smiles,”Mark, I don't know what I’d do without you.” I’m pretty sure I’m blushing after her comment but I’m not going to look. I can’t have her knowing my feelings. She wouldn’t ever feel the same. I will be just the boy next door who was like a brother to her.

And it was painstakingly obvious. Basically our whole highschool knew. And just after two times of meeting y/n, all the guys here knew too. I’ll get chirped about it for probably the rest of my life. Mark Estapa, the guy with some of the most penalties in the big 10, is too scared to tell the girl he’s been in love with for 8 years that he loves her. And I do love her. Not like a friend, but more. But I know that she can’t say the same.

I think about her and Will, all the way back to my dorm room. Her small frame slowly follows from behind me, as we’re going down the dorm hallway. I open the door and she stalks her way in. She goes straight to my dresser and picks out an old storm shirt and a pair of sweats. “Can I wear these tonight?” She asked. “Of course. But be careful with the sweats, the drawstring is broken, might have to roll it a couple of times, shorty!” She gives me a glare before throwing a sock of the floor at me. “I’m not short, you're just huge!” She says. I give her a skeptical look. “Uh huh. Sure.” I say as I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I walk out she’s on my bed scrolling through her phone, not paying any attention at all, so I decide to jump right onto the bed. My actions cause her to almost fling off of the bed and right onto the floor. Lucky for her she doesn’t. She playfully slaps my chest and says,”So you think your funny Stops?” Uh yeah I do. I’m hilarious. I take off my sweat shirt and shoes and climb right next to her on the tiny ass twin bed. I grab her to pull her close. I take in her sweet smell and it reminds me of the hood she has on me. We’ve been snuggle buddies since we were 5. She and I kinda just did everything together for the first 3 years. We wouldn’t be able to sleep unless the other was next to us. It causes our parents some trouble, but who really cares? Not us, that's for sure. Over the years, after her Sunday movie nights we would either stay at her house or go to mine to sleep. It’s just been our thing. And once we got to college it happened more. Her roommate is definitely an interesting cat. She’s super sweet,but definitely not someone I would be able to hang out with for 8 hours a day. That’s why y/n comes to hang out with me and the guys. Eddy loves her like a little sister and the others treat her as one of us, so she’s always hanging with us. Nobody minds, we actually love the company. Me a little too much but I won’t tell her that. I get one good look at her beautiful y/c hair and y/c skin and drift off to sleep with the image of her in my mind.

Let me know how it was!!!!

Pt 2 ⬇️

[hippiegoth97]

Diary of a Hawkins Hussy: A Stranger Things x Reader Anthology

Banner by me :)

Master List

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, drug references, age gap, groping, fingering, unprotected sex, praise, dom/sub dynamic, use of a shock collar (do not try this at home), use of restraints, edging, orgasm denial, light crying, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, light squirting, problematic characters

Word Count: 12.5k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Diary Entry #1: Martin Brenner

May 28th, 1983

Dear diary,

Today marks the day I officially join the adult world. I just got back from graduation. I'm still dressed in my cap and gown, with my diploma sitting in front of me on the desk. I did it, those four years of hell we all call high school are finally over. I'm free. And now, I can focus my attention on my true ambitions in life. No more Chem flashcards or asshole teachers telling me what to do. No more Mom and Dad policing my every move. Nope. I fully intend on doing the one thing I've been itching for from the moment I saw that 'Help Wanted' sign in the shop window. I'm going to work at Waxed Out Records downtown, as an assistant manager.

Waxed Out is the coolest store Hawkins has to offer, though it doesn't have much by way of competition. I've always loved going there, ever since I was a kid when Mom would bring me along on her trips to pick up the new ABBA or BeeGees. Music is my lifeblood, I can't go a single day without listening to some form of it. I've dedicated almost my entire (though limited) existence to curating my collection of vinyl and cassettes, expanding my tastes as far as the eye can see. I love it all, rock, hip-hop, pop, country, blues, jazz, disco, metal, the list goes on. I'm the perfect candidate to work at Waxed Out. I only hope the lame owner, Mr. Harris, will see that at my interview tomorrow. But until then, it's a relaxing night of Stevie Wonder and weed to calm my nerves. I'll let you know how it goes.

May 29th, 1983

Dear diary,

I got the fucking job! Mr. Harris was totally impressed by my extensive knowledge of all things music! I knew I had this in the bag, but I'm so excited, I could just scream! My hand is absolutely shaking as I write this, you have no idea. I start next week, and my first shift can't come soon enough. I need to get the hell out of this house, and into my own place. It shouldn't take long, I've saved up all of my graduation money in a very special hiding place. Just a couple hundred bucks more, and I'm finally on my own. I won't have to listen to Dad tearing apart the house, searching for things to pawn off to buy more booze. It's a good thing I have multiple self-installed locks on my door, or else my collection would be toast. I also won't have to listen to Mom telling me how much of a drain on her I am, or her lectures about 'ambition' and 'wanting more for myself'.

I like to think I am very ambitious. I got this job all on my own, and I'm saving up my pennies like my life depends on it. I know exactly what I want out of life. Simple pleasures, like music and sex. More on that particular subject, I highly intend to expand my current hook-up pool. High school boys (and girls) were all well and good while I was still under the legal definition of a child. But I'm a woman now, and I have every intention of bagging any man or woman that catches my eye. From freshly graduated young women, to strong men in their fifties, and everything in between. As long as they're hot, nothing else really matters. And in that department, Hawkins sure knows how to deliver. Chief Hopper, Mayor Kline, Joyce Byers, this one white-haired guy in neatly pressed suits that comes to town every so often...I'm getting a little turned on just thinking about it. More to come later, probably about my first day of work.

June 1st, 1983

Dear diary,

You'll never guess who came into the shop on my first day of work today! It was none other than that guy with the white hair I mentioned before. I didn't learn much about him, except that he really likes classical music. He picked out some Bach and Mozart, which isn't usually my strong suit. It sounds pretty and all, but it comes off a little hoity-toity, if you know what I mean. But it makes sense for a guy like him, he seems very intellectual. Oh, you should've seen him. It took everything in me not to stare as he browsed the classical section. But his hair was styled neatly as it always is, though a little longer than what's typical for a man his age. And he had on this grey suit that fit him extremely well...I managed to get a couple good glances at his ass. And shit, he must have a Soloflex at home, or something because...it was as tight as a twenty-year-old's, I swear.

He didn't say much. He smiled at me when he came up to the register, and I could totally feel my cheeks burning bright red. It was embarrassing, at first. But if my mind wasn't tricking me, his smile got wider at my reaction. I didn't bother to say much to him, I know I would've made a complete and utter ass out of myself if I tried. But I managed to get out a 'thank you' once I'd rung him up and he paid. He said he'd be back in a couple weeks, almost like it's a routine for him. I'm not sure why, there's only so much Beethoven and Chopin in the world, ya know? But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't counting down the days until that gorgeous, yet mysterious, man with blinding white hair comes walking through the shop door again. Safe to say I won't be able to get that smile of his out of my mind either...fuck me.

June 15th, 1983

Dear diary,

It happened. He finally came back, and this time, we actually had a bit of a real conversation! I (mostly) managed to keep myself together this time, and I'm beginning to think that he likes me. At least, I hope he does...

You hear the little bell hanging above the front door to the shop tinkle, signaling for you to repeat the phrase Mr. Harris has trained into you. "Welcome to Waxed Out. Let me know if I can help you find anything." You say flatly, not looking up from the romance novel you picked up from Melvald's earlier this afternoon. You hear purposeful steps clicking on the linoleum, taps and drags of men's dress shoes on a path to you.

"Yes, miss..." A voice you recognize speaks just across the counter from you. You look up from your book, realizing it's the exact man you've been hoping would return. He's wearing a charcoal suit this time, but that seems to be the only thing that's changed about him. He smiles at you, eyes flicking to your chest to read your name tag. "...Y/N. I was wondering if you could help me find something in particular." He speaks in a calmly commanding, slightly gravelly voice. You hadn't heard much of it upon your first meeting, but it certainly sounds very pleasant to your ears. He carries an odd air of authority, which just as bizarrely makes you want to follow any orders he might give you.

"Sure thing, sir. What did you have in mind?" You reply kindly, coming out from behind the register in preparation to locate whatever it is he's looking for.

His eyes follow your form as you come over to him, and you realize just how tall he is in comparison to you. He's well over six feet, which only adds to his intimidating nature. He seems a bit distracted by you, though, as it takes him a moment to answer you. "Oh, yes. Well, I was hoping to find something for my...daughter." He says with a strange pause put before that final word. Your heart sinks at this revelation, and you suppose he's probably married, too.

"Oh, I see." You reply, and you're sure he can see your face falling slightly at this bit of information. You force yourself to perk up, to make the sale, even if your hopes to potentially sleep with this man have been dashed. "How old is she?" You ask, clasping your hands behind your back.

"She's about to turn twelve, so this would be a birthday gift." He replies, still smiling at you. You take a peek down at his hands, looking for a ring. But they're nestled in his pockets at the moment, leaving you without that small piece of evidence to confirm your suspicions.

"Oh, that's nice." You say awkwardly. "Do you know what she likes? Or did your wife give you a list?" You ask, trying to crack a small joke. But his face hardens, which makes you immediately regret asking.

"No wife, I'm afraid. She died when Ele— Jane was very young." He says, bringing the smile back slightly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—" You try to apologize, but he puts a hand up to stop you.

"That's quite alright, you couldn't have known. But I raise Jane all by myself, and it's hard to know what girls her age like. So, I was hoping your female perspective could help me with that." He gestures at you, his smile widening again.

"Yeah, sure. Um, let me see what we have here..." You trail off, going around to the other side of the store towards the soundtrack section. Musicals are usually a pretty safe bet. Wholesome enough for parents to approve of, while also entertaining enough for kids of all ages to get something out of it. You flip through the records, digging out Grease, The Wizard of Oz, and The Music Man. "I think these are pretty good options. What do you think?" You're about to turn around to bring the albums over to the man, but you find that he's been standing right behind you this whole time. You bump into him in the process, and his close proximity startles you. "Jesus!" You gasp when your record-full hands meet his chest.

"Pardon me, I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that." He says with a laugh, putting his hands on your shoulders to calm you. "Are you alright?" He asks, gazing down at you with concern.

You try to speak, but all words have escaped you in this moment. You're too busy getting lost in his eyes and taking in how strong and firm his hands feel as he touches you. You find yourself wondering how they'd feel while touching you in other places, which you realize is wildly inappropriate. A harsh blush creeps up your cheeks, and you force a thick swallow down your throat before answering him. "Yeah, I'm good. But, uh...here." You hold the records out for him to look at. He takes them from your hands, and you're finally able to breathe easy again. "Do any of these look alright? If not, I can keep looking." You add, wanting him to leave as a satisfied customer. If you do well here, maybe he'll come back again...and again...and maybe for more than just music.

"These look great, Y/N. She's going to love them. You mind ringing me up?" He says, drawing your eyes to his again.

"Oh, you're going to buy them all?" You ask curiously. Parents are usually pretty stingy when it comes to getting albums for their kids. Perhaps it's a fear of the discs getting scratched or broken.

"Why, yes. Should I not?" He questions, raising an eyebrow at you.

"No, no. I just meant...I wasn't sure you'd do that, I guess." You fumble over your words, walking the both of you over to the register now. Perhaps some distance from him will help you calm the fuck down. If you come off too doe-eyed and naïve, he may not have much interest in you.

"Well, let's just say you're a very good saleswoman." He chuckles, the sound of which stirs something inside you. You punch in the prices on the stickers Mr. Harris put on said albums, which comes to a total of sixteen dollars.

"Thanks, I appreciate that." You giggle, biting your lip slightly before taking his payment. He pays with a credit card, from which you nosily read the name of its owner. Martin Brenner. He doesn't look like a Martin. Although, you suppose you don't know what he does look like, either. You bag up the records for him, handing them and his card back to him, as well as a receipt. "Here you go, sir. I hope Jane enjoys the albums." You say sweetly.

"I'm sure she will, thanks again for the help. And please, call me Martin. I'm sure I'll be back here again soon. You've got good taste, Y/N." Martin winks at you, before heading towards the door to leave.

"See you 'round, Martin." You say cutely as he leaves, earning another pleased glance in your direction. Once he's walking down the street and towards his car, you double over onto the counter to take some deep breaths. "God, that man is sexy as hell." You say aloud to yourself, overwhelmed with the entire interaction that's just transpired. You know he's a bit advanced in age, but Martin sure knows how to flirt. You're a little weary of the fact that he has a kid and everything, but it's not like you're looking for anything long-term. You just know you want to fuck him, even if it's only once. You can tell there's something secretive about that man, and you're dying to have a peek behind that proverbial curtain to see exactly what it is.

June 26th, 1983

Dear diary,

Martin hasn't come back the the shop in a while. It seemed like things went pretty well the last time he came in, but who knows. Maybe he was just being polite. I haven't even seen him very much around town like I used to. I suppose he could be busy with his kid, or something. Being a single father can't be easy. But I can't help it, I think about him all the time. He's so handsome, and the way his hands felt when they touched my shoulders... They were so warm, and felt firm and strong. I replay that moment over and over in my mind. I even dream about him now, about everything I think he might want to do to me.

The dream is almost always the same. I'm at the shop, and Martin comes in. There's no one else around, and he's not there for records this time. He's there for me. He comes right up to the counter with purpose, beckoning me out from behind it to put myself in front of him. He caresses my cheek, before leaning down to kiss me. He's gentle and tender, and his hands lift me up to sit on the edge of the counter. We kiss for a while, enjoying the moment. 

Now, this is where things really heat up...he undoes my jeans, pulling them and my panties down to my ankles. He reaches between my legs, and he puts his fingers inside me. They're thick and long, and they feel so damn good. While he does that, I unbuckle his belt, and open up his slacks to pull out his dick. He's fucking huge, at least, he is in the dream. I pump him in my hand a few times, and he lets out a quiet groan while staring down at me. He's so damn hot, I can barely stand it. He pulls his fingers away, and takes hold of his cock himself. He gets closer, and shoves himself into me. Once he starts, he doesn't slow down. He fucks me fast and hard, and I like it. He holds me down while I squeal and squirm for him. He grunts and growls with every thrust, railing me against the counter until I'm screaming his name.

I always wake up right after I cum, having to change my panties because I've soaked through them from my orgasm. It's clear that I want Martin to an embarrassing degree, I only hope he will want me just as much. Time will tell, diary. Time will tell.

June 30th, 1983

Dear diary,

Martin came in again today. He seemed...off. He still talked to me, nice as ever. But it was like he was stressed out about something. Our transaction was very short this time around. Every passing second where he didn't look at me, or touch me, or talk to me felt excruciating. All I could think of was the insane desire I felt to just go up to him and make my intentions perfectly clear. I was shocked to find I hadn't actually done it, the fantasy became extremely vivid. But when Martin came up to register with a couple new picks, and his cock still in his pants, the daydream quickly dissolved into shame.

I realized that I probably shouldn't think and feel so strongly about a perfect stranger like this. All it does as make me feel like a silly child, not to mention I basically gave myself away by blushing so damn much. I mean, I'm only eighteen years old. What could an experienced, well-established man like him possibly find desirable in me? Who knows, maybe I'll hold out hope a little longer. Maybe if I wait for him to make a move, this might work out. Ugh, I need some weed to think this over.

July 8th, 1983

Dear diary,

You're never going to believe this, I can hardly believe it. Martin came in today, for much longer than all the other times. He really chatted me up, and I was happy to talk to him for as long as I could. It felt like he was waiting to ask me something, but he couldn't quite find the words, or courage. To think, he was the one who was nervous. But once I got the ball rolling on a much-anticipated conversation, it became very clear as to why...

"Oh, hey, Martin. What would you like today?" You chirp as the man walks into the shop. You perked up immediately once you saw him crossing the street, waiting for him to come inside and give you the time of day.

"Afternoon, Y/N. I'm not too sure what I want, honestly." He says oddly, not quite looking your way. He seems anxious, or nervous. Could it be because of you? "But I know I can always trust your recommendations." He turns his head to meet you with a smile, putting his hands in his pockets as he comes toward the counter.

"You got it. You lookin' for more classical? Or, perhaps you'd like to branch out into something...younger?" You hint, standing before him in a meek pose. You clasp your hands behind your back, and look up at him from under your eyelashes.

"I-I suppose I could try something new." He stutters slightly, looking you up and down. Shit, maybe it's working.

"Sure thing! Follow me." You spin around, your short skirt flouncing upwards at the motion. You lead Martin towards the Lionel Richie and Phil Collins. You figure he doesn't want to waste time on teeny-boppers. He clears his throat before following you, and you smirk to yourself at him losing his cool. You pull out the albums you have in mind, and fully expect him to be standing right behind you again. You guess correctly, but this time, you purposefully put your hands on him when you turn back around. "Oh, didn't see you there. Not a lot of space in these aisles." You speak somewhat suggestively, running the back of your hand along the lapel of his navy blue suit jacket.

"Quite right. What do you have for me?" His eyes flick down to where you're touching him, then to the sultry smile on your face. You give him the albums, and he chuckles while looking them over. "I don't know, Y/N...these might be a little too hip for me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Martin. You seem pretty 'with it' to me. Besides, Lionel and Phil are perfect for when you bring a woman home. If that's your thing, anyway." You continue to run your hand along his jacket, gauging his response to it. He hasn't told you to stop yet. If anything, he seems to enjoy it.

"It's been a while since I've done that, actually. Much longer than I'd like to admit." He says, somewhat embarrassed.

"I don't believe that for a second, you're way too handsome." You compliment him, still testing the waters.

"Oh, you don't mean that. A young lady like yourself surely has no interest in someone like me." He shakes his head, laughing at your suggestion. He probably thinks you're really trying to sell him on the vinyl, but you honestly don't give a shit about that.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Martin. I personally find you...very attractive." You speak lowly, turning your hand over to actually touch his chest now. Your palms creep up along his clean white shirt, and you gently take hold of his necktie. "And I'm not just saying that to sell you more records." You give him as sincere a look of desire as you possibly can, batting your lashes to make it clear to him what you're looking for.

Martin thinks it over for a moment, contemplating that you could potentially be a really good time. But he shakes his head, sighing deeply. He can't possibly take such a young woman home. It wouldn't be right...would it? "I-I'm flattered, Y/N, really." He sets the records down, taking hold of your hands. "But I don't think I could give you what you're after." He says sadly, already kicking himself for denying his desire to have you. He's been thinking about it for weeks, but he's sure you couldn't handle what he truly has in mind.

"Why do you say that?" Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. You were sure this would work. Doesn't he like you? Doesn't he think you're pretty?

"Forgive me for coming off a bit crude, here. But I'm just not sure that you're mature enough to handle the kinds of things I'm into, intimately speaking." You're confused by his words, you don't understand what he means by that.

"And how would you know?" You ask, becoming irritated with him for thinking you're some immature girl. He scoffs, surprised by you.

"I guess I don't, Y/N. But I wouldn't want to hurt you. I really like you. I think you're very pretty, and sweet. I'm just not sure it's a good idea." He shakes his head again, putting your hands down before pulling his own away.

"Well...maybe I'm not afraid to get hurt, Martin." You smile again, his attempts to deter your interest have only piqued it further. "It's very simple, really. I want to sleep with you. I don't care what you're into, I got up to some pretty crazy shit in high school. But if you really don't want me, that's fine. I can find someone else if I really want to." You figure there's no use for formalities at this point, so you lay it all out for him. The ball is in his court now, it's only a matter of if he wants to play.

He sighs again, still unsure of what to do here. "You make it very difficult to say no to you..." He says, pausing as he reads your expression. He supposes it can't be all bad, you're the one coming on to him. If you really want this, then who is he to deny you? "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want, Y/N?" He asks, cupping your cheek like he does in your dreams.

"Yes, I want this more than anything." You reply breathlessly, unable to believe this may actually happen. There's a tense moment of silence between you, and he finally nods in agreement.

"Alright. What time are you finished here?" Martin asks.

"Nine o'clock." You answer, biting your lip in excitement.

"Perfect, I'll pick you up. In the meantime, would you mind ringing me up for these?" He smiles, picking up the records you've chosen for him.

"Okay." You practically skip over to the register, though you don't really want him to leave. You bag up his purchase, and he makes his way out onto the street. You'd been hoping for a goodbye kiss, though perhaps that would've been too weird. You glance over at the clock, finding that you have two whole hours left before closing time. You pick up your novel, but you find it hard to focus on the words. All you can think about is what Martin could possibly like in bed that he thinks would be 'too much' for you. Handcuffs? Been there. Whips? Done that. Spanking? Roleplay? Anal? Check, check, and check. High schoolers are way kinkier than anyone gives them credit for. You can't come up with anything else, so if anything, you'll show Martin just how well you can keep up. You hope that'll impress him, for some reason.

The time passes excruciatingly slow, but thankfully a few more customers come along to distract you for a while. You make four more sales before the shift is over, not too bad for a record store in a less-than-booming small-town downtown area. You gather your things at 9pm on the dot, and head for the door with keys in hand. You step out into the muggy night air, turning your back to the street while you lock the door to the shop. You suddenly feel a figure behind you, who extends a hand to grab hold of your waist. You jump and let out a small scream, whipping around to see who it is.

"Shit, Martin! You scared me!" You say once you see that it's just your new conquest who's been waiting for you.

"I'm sorry. Are you ready to go?" Martin asks, slowly pulling you into him by the hip. He takes a second to get a good look at you, as if he hadn't already done so while you were helping him in the shop. He finds you to be very alluring, in your Cyndi Lauper t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, and the short skirt that barely covers your behind. Not to mention your beautiful face, without a single blemish or sign of age to be found.

"Ready when you are, Martin." You reply suggestively, running your hands up and down along his shirt again. Your touch seems to break him out of his trance, and he turns the two of you to head towards his car. It's slick, and black, with a driver and everything. "Nice wheels." You comment, sliding into the seat while the driver holds the door open for you.

"Thank you." Martin replies smoothly, getting in after you. He sits very close to you, and the driver closes the door behind him.

"So, where does a man like you live around here, hm?" You ask coyly, putting your hand on his thigh. He peers down at you, watching your every move. You've noticed he's pretty restrained overall, very methodical with his movements and reactions.

"Oh, it's a humble house, really. Not far from here." Martin replies, and you nod.

"'Humble', huh? Does your job not pay you enough to have a large house and a driver?" You giggle, bringing your hand a little further up his leg. "I guess I never asked, what do you do for work, exactly?" You question curiously.

"I work in government, at the Lab." He replies shortly, too focused on your hand growing closer to his crotch. You're so forward with him, it's kind of throwing him off.

"Oh, I see. I bet that's pretty interesting." You continue on your teasing journey towards his cock. You want to feel him, and play around a bit before you reach his home. You've always had a problem with patience.

"You could say that." He says, just as your fingertips brush against his length. You smirk in satisfaction at finding it, and boldly take hold of it. His throat catches at you groping him, and you find his eyes to see how he's doing. His mouth sits slightly agape, but he doesn't say or do much else. You think he's enjoying this, since he's growing in your hand. But you'd be hard pressed to know for sure.

"Does this feel good, Martin?" You ask quietly, not wanting the driver to hear.

"Y-Yes." He stutters. You continue to touch him over his clothes, becoming very wet yourself as you watch him hold back his noises. He lets out muted sighs as opposed to moans and grunts, but the sound is still more than enough to turn you on further. "We should be there soon, Y/N." He says, taking your hand away from his cock, holding it in his instead.

"Sorry." You apologize, realizing that you've possibly made him uncomfortable.

"Don't be. It's alright. Just be patient for me. Can you do that, Y/N?" He says lowly in your ear, sending a chill up your spine. You nod silently, but he needs to hear you answer. "Use your words." He commands in a husky tone, sending a flare of pleasure between your legs. Now I see what he was talking about. Lucky for him, I've played this game many times before.

"Yes, I'll be patient." You answer breathlessly.

"Good girl." He answers simply, smirking at your quick obedience. Maybe you can handle him after all.

...and there we were, off to his house to have sex. I swear, I kept having to pinch myself to make sure it was actually happening, and not some extremely elaborate dream. But every time I felt that little sting of my nails digging into my flesh, all I was doing was driving myself even more crazy. That little confirmation of reality repeated again and again, made me feel all tingly inside. We couldn't get to his home soon enough, I wanted to touch every inch of his body in the back of that car. But I had to be patient, because that's what he told me to do. I could feel it in my soul that disobeying him would have been a very unwise decision...

"Here we are. Home sweet home." Martin says as the car pulls up to a house on the end of a dimly lit street. It's unassuming, the basic 'white-picket-fence' home of the typical middle class worker. It's not unlike your own house, perhaps slightly smaller. But you suppose a single man with a young kid doesn't need very much space. Your mind turns to his daughter, Jane. You wonder if she's home, and if she'll be upset that daddy brought home some random girl.

"Is your daughter home?" You ask nervously.

"No, no. She's at a friend's house tonight. Don't worry, we'll be all alone." He chuckles at your concern, he finds it very sweet.

"Oh, okay. Good, I'd hate to have upset her." You reply, waiting for the driver to open the door to let you both out.

"I appreciate that, Y/N. But please, I'd hate for the evening to focus on Jane. Especially when I've brought such a beautiful young woman home with me." He says warmly, gently pulling you along as he steps out of the vehicle. He leads you to stand upright, and you both walk to the front door. He unlocks it, letting you inside. The interior is exactly as you expect, a warm little house for two little people. Children's drawings on the refrigerator, kitschy trinkets on shelves and cabinets, probably left over from his deceased wife. That thought makes you a little sad, though it quickly disappears when Martin wraps his arms around you from behind once he's closed the door.

"Hey there, handsome." You giggle, leaning back into him for a moment. "I love your home, it's very cozy."

"I'm glad you think so, Y/N. It does get a little lonely sometimes." He speaks softly, lowering his head to press a kiss to your neck. You sigh blissfully at finally having his lips on you, they're very warm and soft.

"Well, hopefully I can help with that. At least for tonight." You reply, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. He responds well to this offer, planting more blazing kisses to your throat. He doesn't nip or suck your flesh, which would usually disappoint you. But the way he's holding you close like this makes it feel just as passionate. His hands wander up your body, palms brushing over your shirt. He stops just below your breasts, apprehensive to venture further. "Go ahead, Martin. I want this." You murmur, turning your head to look back at him. He seems different now, the air between you has changed. The atmosphere has become charged with expectation and anxiousness, and you can feel his erection prodding against your ass. He resumes his journey upwards, carefully cupping your tits over your shirt. You let out a quiet moan, gazing at him as you do so. He smiles at the sound, pressing a little harder with his hands to earn another one.

"Shall we take this upstairs?" He asks lowly, and you nod. He lets you out of his grip, stepping ahead of you. He takes your hand, leading you up the steps to his bedroom. You pass a quaint bathroom, and what looks like a kid's room along the way. You don't bother to take more than a small peek inside, you'd hate to come off nosey. Martin takes you to a room at the end of the hallway, pushing the door open to reveal the master bedroom. It's still as warm and cozy as the rest of the house, dressed in those signature hues of yellow, orange, and brown left over from the 1970s. He gestures for you to sit on the bed, and you take a seat on the edge of it. You take your shoes off, and he removes his suit jacket.

"So, what's this strange 'thing' you're into, Martin?" You ask curiously, setting your bag down on the night table beside you.

"You'll see soon enough. But I'd like to...get to know you a little bit first." Martin answers, giving you a look while undoing his tie. He loosens the knot around his collar, before slipping the loop over his head and untying it entirely. "Have you ever been tied up before?" He asks, holding the ends of the tie in his hands with purpose.

"Yes." You reply simply. He nods, bringing the tie over to the bed. He lays it out neatly beside you, presumably to be used later. "Should I...take my clothes off?" You ask, becoming a little unsure of yourself.

"Not yet. I'll tell you when and how to do everything. Is that alright?" He speaks firmly, expecting you to agree.

"Yeah, that's fine." You say casually. You watch as he hangs up his jacket, and methodically takes off his shoes before placing them neatly in his closet. He comes over to you, sitting beside you on the bed now.

"You're very beautiful, Y/N." Martin says, brushing a loose hair behind your ear.

"Thanks." You blush, looking down at your feet. He puts a finger under your chin, bringing your head up to face him again.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes. Please." You reply, you've been waiting for him to do this for a very long time. He brings his face closer to yours, and your eyes flutter closed in preparation. His lips meet yours, and you immediately melt against him. "Mmm." You hum into the kiss, following his small movements. He doesn't use tongue, you suppose he's a bit old-fashioned that way. But you don't mind, he's still a very good kisser. He pulls away, taking your breath with him.

"Take off your shirt, please." He orders politely, clearing his throat. You do as he asks, pulling the garment over your head and tossing it to the floor. You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to make his next move. "Pick it up and fold it." He says, a serious look on his face.

"Oh. Sorry." You laugh nervously, bending down to pick up the shirt. You follow his instructions, holding in neatly in your lap now.

"Now, put it on the table." He says. You do, and he smiles again. "Good girl." You face him again, wondering what he's going to ask you to do now. He doesn't say anything else, but he reaches his hands forward toward your chest. His eyes flick to yours, asking for permission. You nod, and he grabs hold of your breasts through your bra. You moan at his touch, quickly becoming hungry for so much more. He massages your tits, almost as if he's inspecting them. You oddly feel a bit like an expirement, and he's taking mental notes of your behaviors and reactions. "Does this feel good, Y/N?" He asks in a neutral tone.

"Yes." You breathe. You decide to try and strip him down a little bit too, reaching over for the buttons on his shirt. His eyes follow you, almost waiting for you to break an unspoken rule. You stop in your tracks. "Can I?" You ask, biting your lip anxiously. You want to see him, but you don't want to make him angry.

"Can you what?" Martin smirks, and you see now that you need to use your words again.

"Can I unbutton your shirt, Martin?" You ask, clearer this time.

"Yes, you may. But from now on, call me 'sir'. Okay?" He says.

"Yes, sir." You giggle at how it sounds at first, but if he likes it, then so do you. You resume your desired task, starting with the button at his collar. You push it through the stitched hole, exposing the rest of his neck. You notice Martin's grip tightening a little, which makes you moan again. You wonder if he'll do it every time you undo another button, testing the theory. You open the next one down, and he does the same thing, squeezing harder for a moment, before resuming his gentle massage. You undo the next button, and the next, moaning louder with every squeeze he gives you.

"You make very nice noises, Y/N. Are you enjoying yourself?" He questions, still coming off painfully formal. If it were anyone else, you'd probably be put off by it. But his overall sense of confidence whenever he speaks makes everything he says sound attractive to you.

"Yes. It feels really good." You answer, still opening up his shirt. There's just three more buttons left, and what you've revealed so far is exactly what you were hoping for. This man clearly works out, he's very fit. His muscles aren't anything crazy, but he has not let turning gray slow him down one bit. His chest and stomach are toned, with a small amount of salt and pepper hair in all the right places. You tug the tails of his shirt out of his slacks, undoing the final button. "Your body is amazing, sir." You say breathlessly, meeting his gaze again.

"Thanks. I try my best to stay in shape." He smirks at you finding him so attractive. He massages your chest more roughly now, drawing more noises from you. He leads you to lie down, with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He presses his lips to yours again, one hand leaving your breast to slip under your back. He unclasps your bra, and slides the straps down your shoulders. He folds it up nicely while still kissing you, setting it off to the side for a moment. Martin grabs hold of your bare breasts now, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and fingers.

"Mmm." You moan against him, enjoying every second of this. You feel up his own chest, marveling at his firm muscles. After a little while, you want to feel more. You lower a hand down his stomach, over his belt until you reach his erection again. You ghost over it, earning a low groan from Martin's lungs. It's the first one you've heard from him, and it's sexy as hell. You start groping him again, your heart pounding in your chest as you expect him to stop all this and punish you. But he doesn't, he lets you continue to touch him, still letting out those same breathy groans. "Please, sir. I want you so bad." You whimper when his lips leave yours to go to your neck again. You squeeze him a little harder in your hand, wanting him to move things along.

"Patience, Y/N. Be a good girl for me." He pants between kisses on your throat. He loves how needy you are, how badly you want him to touch you and be inside of you. He's never seen a girl so desperate, but he's only getting started. A few minutes later, Martin pulls away. He sits up, taking off his shirt entirely. He stands to go hang it up, and then turns to look at you again. "Take off your skirt." He orders.

"Yes, sir." You answer, standing off the bed to remove it. You fold it nicely, putting it and your bra on top of your shirt on the table. You sit back down, and he smiles at the sight of your pink lace underwear. "What should I do now?" You ask, feeling oddly self-conscious while sitting in nothing but your panties and socks.

"Lie down, Y/N." He says, before digging deeper into the closet for something. You do as he says, putting your head on the pillows. You try to position yourself casually, posing your arms and legs in various ways. But nothing feels right. You decide to stop trying so hard and just lie still, though you're curious as to what he's looking for. He comes back over to you, holding a silver metal box. He puts it on the bed, and silently opens the clasps. He pulls the top open, revealing what looks like a collar. It's a large, tan ring with white, squared nodules around the inner circumference. There's an electronic lock on the side, and a small remote next to it. It appears to be a shock collar, which makes you swallow hard.

"What's that?" You ask, though you feel a bit stupid asking. What else could it possibly be?

"Oh, just something to ensure that you'll follow my every order." Martin answers simply, looking at you with an odd smile. He raises a brow at your widened eyes, closing the lid of the case for a moment. "Do you still want to do this, Y/N? I completely understand if you don't." He offers you one final way out. But you want this, a little shock can't be that bad. It could be a lot of fun...right?

"I want this, sir. I'll do anything you ask." You reply, and he nods. He opens the box again, and takes the collar out of the foam lining inside. He clicks a button on the remote to open the ring, and comes over to you to put it on.

"Sit up for a second." He says, and you do. He puts the collar around your neck, the nodules digging into your throat with light pressure once he clicks it in place. You lay back down once he's finished, and he presses another button to power it on. A low buzz kicks on around your neck, the sound startling you. You gasp slightly, drawing his eyes to you again. "Is everything alright?" He asks, checking in on you.

"Yes, sir." You nod, breathing heavily. He puts the remote down on the table for a moment, and picks up his necktie.

"Put your hands above you head." He commands. He ties your hands together at the wrists with the silk fabric, leaving a small amount of slack so you don't lose circulation. "Good girl." He praises, taking in the image of you in your newly bound state. Your eyes have blown wide with desire as well as fear, your chest rises and falls with heavy, rapid breaths, and the cherry on top is the small wet spot of arousal on your panties. "Are you ready to play, Y/N?" He asks with a grin, very eager to set things into motion.

"Yes." You reply, hoping he'll touch you soon. He's been quite stingy with his touches thus far, drawing everything out for the sake of driving you crazy.

"Good. I only have one rule. If you misbehave, you get a shock. But I'm sure a smart girl like you has already figured that out." He chuckles darkly, almost looming over you from the side of the bed. You nod in understanding. "Perfect." He brings a hand to your chest, carefully caressing the side of your breast. You gasp at his touch, the softness of it sending tingles along your spine. He travels downwards very slowly, going down to your stomach and waist. He meets the hem of your panties, looping a finger around the fabric. He reaches over to do the same on the other side, and gingerly pulls your underwear down your thighs, knees, and ankles. He doesn't fold them up this time, nor does he put them with the rest of your clothes. Instead, he puts them in his pocket to keep as a souvenir of your night together. You don't mind, many guys have done that before. You take it as a compliment, if anything.

You instinctively spread your legs apart a little, expecting him to start touching your pussy soon. But it appears you've guessed wrong, because Martin quickly picks up the remote and presses it. You feel a strong, paralyzing current running through you, making you cry out as your body convulses outside your control. "Fuck!" You huff when he finally stops, your muscles relaxing against the bed.

"I didn't say to move, did I?" He asks angrily, and you shake your head. "Use your words!" He almost shouts at you, holding up the remote as a threat to shock you again if you don't speak up.

"No, sir! You didn't! I'm sorry!" You apologize frantically, fumbling over your syllables. That shock scared you, there's no doubt about it. But you're surprised to find that it also felt...kinda good.

"That's right. Now, have you learned your lesson?" He asks, eyes burning into you as he waits for your answer.

"Yes." You nod. He doesn't say anything else. Instead, he drags his hand lazily along your ankle, creeping up toward your knee and thigh. He draws closer to your cunt, watching your breath hitch and heart skip a beat while you wait patiently for him to touch you. You observe silently as he continues to torture you with waiting so long. You need to feel his fingers on your clit, or sinking deep inside your pussy. You feel compelled to cry and scream for him to give you what you want at this point. But you hold it all back, you have to obey him if you're going to get what you so deeply desire.

Martin's hand reaches your inner thigh, and he presses on further to touch the very outside of your silk. You moan at the sensation, as unsatisfying as it is. "Hmm, so soft." He observes aloud, wondering how often you shave or wax your most intimate areas. He travels deeper, finally making contact with your clit with the very tips of his middle and ring fingers.

"Fuck." You whine, using every ounce of willpower to keep your hips from bucking off the bed. You don't imagine he'd take very kindly to such lack of self-control.

"More?" He questions.

"Yes, sir. Please, touch me." You whimper, begging him with your eyes. He does as you ask, dragging his fingertips along your slick folds. You're quickly heating up as he continues to stroke you, sweat forming inside your pores. He's still very slow and methodical, noting your every sound and expression like before. "More, please." You beg, still resisting the urge to buck and thrash around on the bed. You'd love nothing more than to grind your hips to get yourself off against his fingers.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He smirks, moving further down to press a finger inside your soaked hole.

"Oh, god." You gasp. He pumps the digit in and out of your pussy, brushing against your g spot ever so slightly. Without you needing to ask, he adds another. "Fuck...yes..." You moan breathlessly, your eyes rolling back into your skull. His fingers are the perfect size, as long and thick as you dreamt they would be. He keeps his snail's pace, but you don't even care. He's inside you, and it feels so damn good.

"That's a good girl...do you like having my fingers inside you?" He asks curiously, though the answer reads plainly on your face.

"Yes, sir. You feel so good, I'm so wet for you." You shake your head in the affirmative as you speak, letting him know how amazing he's making you feel. Normally, Martin would have a mind to shock you again for responding in such a vulgar way. But he likes hearing these dirty words falling from your lips. You're different than the others, you're special. You make every single salacious statement sound like lines of poetry to him. This may only ever be a one-time thing, but you'll certainly be one that he'll never forget.

"I'm glad to hear it, Y/N." He says softly, continuing to work you over like it's his day job. He continues to go slow, but your insides are boiling all the same. You can sense your release nearing, and you're sure Martin can as well. "Are you getting close?" He asks, noticing your walls have started to flutter around his fingers. He'd love to see how beautiful you look when you climax.

"Yes, sir. Please, don't stop." You plead as the waves of your oncoming orgasm begin to roll over you.

"I won't, Y/N." He says softly, almost like a promise. It's uncharacteristically sweet, considering he's got your hands tied up while a shock collar sits tightly around your neck. Just a little longer, and you'll be calling out his name. He hopes so, anyway. He certainly likes how it sounds coming from you.

"I'm almost there...can I cum, sir?" You ask, meeting his eyes.

"Not yet, Y/N. Hold it for me, just a bit longer." Martin replies firmly.

"O-okay..." You stutter, gasping slightly when you feel your orgasm about to sneak up on you. You try your best to hold it back, to obey Martin's orders. It's becoming increasingly difficult, however. Your thighs keep twitching, and a constant whine floods from your lips from keeping it all inside.

"Just a little more, I know you can do it. Be a good girl for me." He insists, increasing his pace ever so slightly to up the stakes.

"Fuck...sir, please...I want to be good for you. But I nee—" You beg, which is quickly interrupted by another intense shock. His fingers left you at the last second before he flicked the switch, but the painful waves seem to only extend your pleasure. You continue to moan until he presses the button to stop the electric current.

"I told you to wait, Y/N. Don't make excuses, and don't disobey me." He shoves his fingers back into you, and rapidly curls and thrusts them this time.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out, tears pricking your eyes now. He's purposefully trying to make you break the rules, but you refuse to earn another shock anytime soon. You keep your orgasm tangled up in a quickly dissolving chain, waiting for him to give you the go ahead.

"Do you want to release, Y/N?" He asks flatly, peering down at you. He marvels at your resolve to follow his orders, he knows it's taking everything in you to hold on for him. What a strong little thing she is... he muses to himself.

"Yes! Please, sir! I want to cum so bad..." You exclaim, your bound hands helplessly clawing at the pillow beneath your head.

"Go ahead." He nods, giving you a small smile again.

"Fuck...Martin!" You moan loudly as your release takes over. Your thighs quake, and your insides clamp around Martin's fingers. The pleasure is so intense, like nothing you've ever experienced before. Holding off for so long has made your orgasm ridiculously powerful. You're blinded by bright white light that consumes your entire being, and you can't stop trembling and moaning for a good fifteen seconds. He watches this event unfold, his gaze drawn downwards when your arousal spills warmly into his hand. He takes his fingers out of you, grabbing a washcloth to wipe his hand with as you come down. You're left panting wildly, slathered in sweat that's dampened your hair and the bed beneath you.

"Was that enjoyable for you?" Martin asks, as if he didn't just witness you having the best orgasm of your entire life.

"Yes, sir. It was amazing." You gush, smiling uncontrollably at the utter bliss you feel inside.

"Good. I liked it quite a lot, too." He replies, and you hear the jingling of his belt opening. You open your eyes to see Martin undoing his pants. You watch hungrily as he exposes his clean white briefs, and the stiff cock sheathed inside them. He puts the slacks away, and comes back over to the bed. He makes sure you're paying attention, before slipping his underwear down his legs. His dick slaps against his stomach, the head red and swollen with need. You want to take him in your mouth, or to ride him, it doesn't really matter. You just want him inside you again, to make your fantasies a completed reality.

"Can I suck your cock, sir?" You ask cautiously, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"No, thank you. I've never liked that very much. But I think you want something else a bit more, don't you?" He questions you again, taking hold of his length and stroking it a couple of times.

"Yes, sir. I want you to fuck me." You say boldly, biting your lip.

"I ought to shock you again for that filthy mouth of yours." He threatens, but he's not really all that serious about it.

"Do you not like the things I say, sir?" You ask with a bratty pout, toying with him a little bit.

"I-I do. Much as I shouldn't, I really do." His tone falters, which clues you in to how much he immensely enjoys you saying dirty things.

"Do you want to fuck me, sir?" You continue with your own inquiries, hoping to drive him to slam his cock into you, or even shock you again for acting out of line. You're enjoying this far more than you'd truly expected, and it appears he is as well.

"Yes." He almost whispers.

"Do you want to make me scream your name?" You press on, testing the limits.

"Yes." Martin continues to rub himself as you speak. Slow and languid, not nearly enough to make him lose control. Just revving himself up for when he's deep inside you.

"How do you want me?" You ask again.

"What do you mean?" He replies, confused as to what you're referring to.

"Laying down? Hands and knees? On your lap? How do you want me?" You repeat yourself, your words dripping with lust.

"Oh, I see." Martin blushes slightly at his misunderstanding. He thinks it over a moment, before answering. "This way is fine...for now." He says, climbing onto the bed to join you now. He spreads your legs apart with his hands, tenting your knees and placing himself between them. He gives you another kiss, warming you up before the main event. His hands grab at your tits, massaging them roughly.

"Mmm." You moan against his mouth, wishing you could bury your hands in his hair and tug on it. His lips move lower down to your neck, and he brings a hand to rub against your clit for a moment. "Oh..." You whimper quietly.

"Are you ready?" He asks in your ear, ceasing his touch on your bundle of nerves. He takes hold of his cock, running his tip along your silk.

"Yes, sir. So ready...you have no idea." You reply, waiting for him to penetrate you. Without another word, he puts his head above yours to watch you as his dick slips inside you. "Oh, fuck." You exhale while he fills you up. He's the perfect size, reaching every inch of your soaked pussy flawlessly. "You're so big, sir." You compliment him once he bottoms out.

"Thank you. You're very...warm." He says, somewhat awkwardly. You're guessing that's his best attempt at talking dirty.

"Do I feel nice and tight inside? Am I wet enough for you?" You try to help him out, saying all the vulgar things on his behalf.

"Yes. You're perfect, Y/N." Martin rasps, slowly pulling out before slipping back in. He lets out a low groan at the slickness of your insides. He continues to thrust in and out at a very slow pace, similar to how his fingers were working inside you earlier. But you want more, you want him to rail you like he does in your dreams. You know he has it in him, but you're unsure how to say it without him shocking you again.

"Can you go faster, sir?" You ask politely.

"Not yet, Y/N. Patience." He says in warning, still moving so very slow. You swear he's just trying to make you squirm. You can't help your neediness, so you grind your hips to meet his thrusts. He pulls his cock out of you as a result, and takes hold of the remote to give you another shock.

"Shit!" You shout at the painful current going through your body once more. Your muscles seize up, and Martin just watches the helpless look on your face. He lets it go a little longer this time, making you afraid that you might pass out. But just before you're about to possibly lose consciousness, he turns it off.

"It appears you have a problem with listening." Martin growls, which only turns you on more.

"I'm sorry, sir. I only want you so bad, you feel so good inside me." You explain, the pitchy whine in your voice making his cock twitch. How can he resist you when you sound like that?

"You promise to be good for me? To listen to what I say?" He questions, his expression stone still despite his ever-growing hunger for you.

"Yes, sir. Please...I need you." You beg tearfully.

"Very well." He responds, before slamming his cock inside you.

"Fuck!" You squeal. He proceeds to hammer himself into you now, gripping your thighs with frustrated strength.

"Is this what you want, Y/N?" He asks while panting as he fucks you good and hard.

"Yes, sir. This is exactly what I want. You feel so good." You continue to moan with every thrust, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close. He allows you to do this, using you as leverage to keep pounding your pussy like his life depends on it.

"Should I go harder? Faster? Tell me what you want, Y/N." Martin offers, spellbound by your helpless noises.

"Fuck me harder, sir. I know you can...you're so strong...I can take it." You plead to him, bringing your bound hands down to rest around his neck. You have to hold him, to feel him in any way you possibly can.

"I'm sure you can. You're such a good girl for me." He chuckles, snapping his hips to drive into you with more force.

"Shit, I'm getting close again, sir..." You warn him, though you're not sure how well you can hold it this time. He's hitting your sweet spot with every motion of in and out, and you're sure he isn't far behind.

"You know the rules, Y/N." He burns, picking up the remote again. You watch him with frightened eyes, though your lips curl into a mischievous smile.

"Do it." You blurt the words out.

"What?" He asks, dumbfounded that you're actually asking him to shock you.

"Shock me. It feels really good, sir." You reply seductively.

"If that's what you really want..." He trails off, still thrusting roughly into you as he presses the button. It appears the collar works like a taser, sending an intense shock to you, without affecting him at all. You moan at the sensation, savoring the pain and pleasure mixing together inside your clenching belly. Your walls spasm around his dick, making him groan. That's another reason why you asked him to do it, you knew he'd like it, too. He lets the current go on for longer again, watching your face twist in ecstasy. "You really are something special, Y/N." He says, in awe of you. He flicks the switch to turn it off, and your body relaxes underneath his.

"I try my best." You quip, breathing far more heavily than you were before.

"Here, let's try hands and knees for the end, hm?" Martin suggests, quickly pulling out and rolling you onto your stomach. He pants erratically behind you, waiting for you to get on your knees.

"Mmm, yes, please." You hum, kneeling before him while arching your back. You lean on your elbows, your hands resting just below your head.

Martin takes a moment to look at you in this position, noting your readiness to take him once more. He can deduce that this is your favorite position, and as a man of science, he can understand the anatomical reason as to why. He takes hold of his cock, running his leaking tip along your folds to tease you again. He grunts at his sensitivity, needing to hold back himself so he can fully please you. He'd hate to leave a woman unsatisfied. "Ready?" He asks, barely pressing the head of his dick against your entrance.

"Yes, sir. Please, fuck me." You plead, fighting the reflex to back yourself into him.

"Well, I am partial to begging." He says with a light laugh, before shoving his length into you.

"Fuck, yes." You moan as he hits even better angles inside you from behind.

"More?" He asks, needing you to tell him exactly what you want. He loves how verbal you are, how unafraid you are of sounding so pathetic.

"Yes, sir. Fuck me hard and fast...I wanna cum on your huge cock." You're whimpering and teary-eyed again, but you can't possibly be bothered to care.

"Sure thing." He answers simply, grabbing either side of your waist. He pulls out, making your skin slap together loudly as he thrusts back in with force. You cry out, gripping what you can of the covers below you. It's hard to manage with your hands stuck together, but you try your damndest. Martin grunts very loudly as he continues to fuck you at the pace you asked for. You're almost there again, and he can feel it. He's right behind you, his stomach preparing to tense as his balls tighten.

"Can I cum, sir?" You ask through a moan. You can feel your arousal lubing him up with each stroke, some of it rolling down your inner thigh in warm drips.

"Not yet. Soon." He mumbles, driving himself as deep into you as humanly possible. Your insides are so snug around him now, threatening to strangle him altogether. He's looking forward to feeling you let go around him.

"Please, sir...please, please...please..." You repeat the words incoherently, they're the only things you can think to say. You're an absolute mess, holding your orgasm in so hard that it almost hurts. Your brain has turned to mush, and you know you can't keep it in forever.

"You've been a very good girl tonight, Y/N. Let it all go for me." He growls, sensing his own end taking him over.

"P-push the bu..." You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

"What?" Martin asks, trying to figure out what you're saying.

"The button. Push...the...button." You force the words out, every syllable of which threatening to open the floodgates. But you want to feel that delicious shock as you cum, you just know it'll all be worth it.

"Of course, Y/N." He says breathlessly. He does as you ask, forcing his own climax back for the sake of you violently losing control around him. He presses the button, and you finally feel it wash over you.

"Martin!" You choke out his name as your body seizes up one last time. Your pussy clenches around his dick, yanking a loud groan from his throat.

"God—" He thrusts into you uncontrollably, his cum coating your insides messily. If you could flex your vocal chords right now, you'd scream at how good his sloppy bucking feels. You continue to tremble and convulse, releasing a small mess of juices from your pussy. The warm liquid soaks his cock, making him groan again. "Y/N, I—" He gasps, unable to believe how otherworldly you feel inside. He keeps thrusting through the pleasure, forcing your cum to mix and spill out onto your thighs and the bed.

You're on cloud nine in this moment, savoring every second of electric current pulsing through you, and every needy stroke Martin continues to make inside you. He finally turns off the collar, powering it off entirely. You slump against the bed, taking him with you as he still won't stop fucking your pussy. "Martin..." You moan, trying to warn him that he's gonna make you cum again if he doesn't let up.

"You feel so good, Y/N. I've never felt anyone like you..." He praises.

"G-gonna cum again..." You make a second attempt, but he doesn't seem to hear you. You've broken him, in a way, making him the desperate one now. You let him keep going, regardless of the fact that you're getting a little sore. His thrusts feel so good, and he seems to want to experience you clamping down on him one last time.

"One more, just one more...can you do that for me, Y/N?" He asks with desperation in his voice. His breath lands hotly on the back of your neck, his body sliding around on top of yours as you're both covered in sweat.

"Y-yes...I'll be so good for you, Martin. Make me cum." Your words are all the motivation he needs. He picks up his pace again, pounding you into the bed as he tries to give you another orgasm. You cry out over and over, waiting to feel ecstasy rush through you for the third time.

"That's it...just like that, Y/N. Good girl." He pants, feeling your walls fluttering again.

"Oh, shit...I'm gonna cum, sir. Can I cum, please?" You whimper.

"Y-Yes, you can..." He stutters, and you sense your high taking over once the words pass his lips.

"FUCK!" You scream, thighs quaking as you're rocked to the core again.

"Mmm, ah—" His breath catches in his throat as you soak his cock again, even more than last time. You spill down your thighs and his, every spasm pushing more fluid out of you. You almost start sobbing as your final high subsides, and he stills himself within you. He carefully pulls out, gazing at the sticky mess left between your legs. You lie still, trying to catch your breath. As you do so, Martin gets off the bed and unlocks the collar. He takes it away, putting it and the remote back in its case. He also unties your hands, checking for any bruises left on your wrists. Finding none, he retrieves a damp towel from the bathroom to clean you up with. "How are you feeling?" He asks as he wipes away the mess from your sore flesh.

"I'm great, Martin. That was so fucking good." You say softly, feeling completely exhausted now. Once he's done cleaning you up, he helps you sit up and redress, sans your panties. "Thank you." You say, standing to meet him once you're fully clothed.

"For what?" He asks curiously.

"For giving me what I've been dreaming about for weeks." You reply cheekily, giving him a short kiss. You suppose it's time for you to leave now, to go back home to your parents.

"You dreamt about me?" He questions, as if it's impossible for you to have done such a thing.

"Mmhmm, every night since the first day you came into the store. Shit, I've had to change my panties in the middle of the night so many times because of you." You giggle, playfully poking his chest.

"Right." He gives you a soft smile, unsure how to respond to that. "Well, I can have my driver drop you at home, if you like. Or the store, if your car is still there." He offers.

"The store is fine. Thanks." You reply, and he goes to a phone on the dresser, presumably to speak to the driver. He retrieves a robe to put on to escort you to the door after the brief call, tying a firm knot around his waist. 

"Come along, then." He gestures at the bedroom door, and you open it and head for the stairs. You go all the way down and to the front door, stopping for a moment. "What is it? Did you forget something?"

"No." You shake your head, lifting up your bag to show that you've got everything. "I just...if you ever wanted to do this again, I wouldn't say no." You end with a shrug, unsure he'll even consider it.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that." He answers, smiling a bit bigger for your benefit. Unfortunately, for your own safety, he can't do this again. If only you knew the kinds of things he's gotten himself caught up in these last few years, the awful things he's done in the name of 'science'. He can't put a sweet young thing like you at risk, no matter how amazing the sex is. But for now, he can let you think there's a chance, he can't bear to break your heart. You'll just need some time to forget about him, to move on to someone your own age. That's all. At least, he hopes so. He'd hate to have you come back here looking for him, when this isn't even his real home at all. It's all staged, sitting empty and waiting for him, or anyone else working in the lab, who needs a cover to blend in. It's a shame you fell for it so willingly, though he supposes that's kind of the point.

"Cool. Well, hopefully I'll see you in the shop again. Or around town." You say, going to him for one last kiss goodbye.

"Of course. I'll be around." But no, he really won't. He'll have to avoid your store like the plague now. What a shame, you've got such a wonderful selection of Chopin. He puts a hand on the small of your back, giving you the final kiss you're waiting for. He kisses you hard, wanting to sweep you off your feet one last time. You hum against him, wishing you didn't have to let go. But he makes the decision for you, and the regretful look on his face tells you he won't be coming to you again.

You're not stupid, you know this was probably a one-time thing anyway. It hurts to know he's lying to your face, but you're sure he has a good reason. You figured his vague answer of 'government' as his job meant something top secret, maybe even dangerous. You get it, truly, you do. And he doesn't need to know that you see right through him. Let him have his illusion, it'll only hurt more to shatter it.

"Bye, Martin." You give him a small wave, and go outside to the car that's waiting for you. It's a dead silent ride back to the record store, with the driver glancing back at you suspiciously a couple of times. He drops you off outside Waxed Out, and you walk down the street to the lot where you've parked your car. You get inside, turn the key, and drive home while replaying the exquisite moments you and Martin shared together. It'll be a while before you get over that man, and you don't mind that one bit. He was something special tonight, and you're sure he feels the same about you. At least he has your panties to remember you by.

August 10th, 1983

Dear diary,

I was right. Martin hasn't returned to the store, and I don't think he's ever going to. I get it, his work is probably too much to balance with hooking up with me and taking care of his kid, if he even has one. I still dream about him every so often, and we do all the things we did that night over and over again. I still wake up with soaked panties every time, but all it does is remind me that I'm never going to see him in that way again. I hardly see him around town, either. And the few times I have, he ignores me when I wave at him. It's like I don't exist, or at least, he turns away before I can see him look sad. I'd like to think that's what he's doing, anyway. I know, I know, this was only sex. Wild, crazy, kinky-as-fuck sex. But still, that's all it was. And that's all it needs to be.

As they say, onwards and upwards. Speaking of that, I've finally got my own place! No roommates or anything! It's totally cheap and doesn't look like a complete dump. And it's all mine. No more nosey parents, not after I move in there in a couple days. I've got my shit all packed up and ready to go. My freedom can't come soon enough, diary. Until then, I'm gonna get high and masturbate while thinking about Martin again. What can I say? That dick was something else...

[skunkjagkh0e]

I am going to analyze and describe to you guys every All Time Low’s records because I love ranting about the aesthetics and stuff.

I’m just gonna put TTWtRiDwtE and The Party Scene together because I don’t listen to them THAT much, I still love them though. I’m gonna say that they have massive high school vibes and idk I just love the vibes AND THE LYRICS. I fucking love the lyrics of every single song on these records. words cannot explain.

My favs are probably Break Out! Break Out! and the hustler one

Fav lyrics: “The memories of broken dreams We were so tired yet so alive”

It’s So Wrong It’s Right turn. On this record I have to say that even though I don’t like every every song on it, I love the instrumental parts SO much; I think that the guitars, the bass and the drum parts are legitimately amazing. Nothing more to say.

I really love let it roll and stay awake.

Fav lyric: all six feet under the ground.

Nothing Personal. My fucking record. I love every song on this record with every single body cells that I have. The lyrics are really teenager-ish but I think that goes along well with the whole concept and vibe of the record

HELLO BROKLYN NUMBER 1 STAN HERE. Also Lost In Stereo is my fav atl song so.

Fav lyric: “I’m a walking travesty but I’m smiling at everything”

We have been waiting for this one. Dirty Work. At first I didn’t like this album because the songs just didn’t catch my attention but when I listened to it again carefully…this one goes hard. it really does. the lyrics are amazing and I like all the sassy-ness in this record SO much.

I can’t pick a fav one, I legitimately love them all

Fav lyric: “We're throwing stones though we live in glass houses”

Don’t Panic is my brother, my pal, my mate, my friend and my lover. I love this record from head to toes. I really love everything about this album, from the amazing lyrics to the instrumental parts to just the vibes in general.

I CANT PICK A FAV ONE FUUUUCK

AGAIN I love every every song. Every lyric is just.

THE RECORD. Future Hearts. This one is number one on the top for the lyrics. Heartwarming, comforting yet harsh and raw in some way. I link this album with the feeling of wanting to let go of the things that make you feel bad. with the feeling of searching for a safe place to be where you can rest for a while. I used to listen to this record biblically everyday because I was in so much pain and just listening to it made me feel better.

Satellite, old scars/future hearts and the kids in the dark stan here!

Fav lyric: all the kids in the dark

I am so fond of Last Young Renegade. The whole concept behind the record is amazing, the lyrics are incredible and deep and the movies are just *chef’s kiss* the peaks of the vibes. I fucking love the whole aesthetic: jeans jackets, late night car rides, neon signs and lights, rock and loud music… man I really based my personality on this freakin record and I do not regret it. At all. This is my fav record and probably this thing will never change. It bring me so much comfort I can’t explain it.

Can’t pick a fav one here.

Love every lyric equally

MY BABY Wake Up, Sunshine. I discovered the boys through WUS so it has a very special place in my heart. This record is the definition of comfort, safety, summer and love. In a bad mood? Listen to WUS. In a good mood? Listen to WUS. It’s a REMEDY. This record saved me so many times. The vibes are immaculate and the whole aesthetic brings joy and happiness.

Glitter and Crimson and Pretty Venom stan in the house tonight.

Fav lyric: “It’s gonna be alright if you just stop thinking it over”

Tell Me I’m Alive. It’s the first record that I see the release of so it holds just for this a special place in my heart. Like I said previously, It’s the child of LYR and WUS and that. +1000 points to the gryffindor. The whole aesthetic of drugs and love and fucking and being heartbroken yet in love it’s SO addicting

I still have to pick my fav but kill my vibe and are you there? are amazing

Idk again the lyrics have all really good meaning I just can’t pick one.

[textual-deviant-blog]

Skeet snaps and brutally, horrifically, roasts Jimmy Neutron - A Fic

Jimmy began sweeping up the salt. "Just a little Sodium Chloride."

Skeet, who earned an A in Chemistry, bristled at this. "Actually, dude, it's table salt." Rather than let his anger show, he tried to gently push Jimmy towards the correct answer. After all, he knew that Jimmy was smart, surely the-

"Just what I said, Sodium Chloride!"

Jimmy-- currently flashing the most unbearable, shit-eating grin-- was not prepared for the tongue lashing that Skeet had built up to for his entire character arc. Every time he made a mistake or got something wrong, he committed himself to learning from his mistakes- to bettering himself so he might just get out of this dead end job and get something that would actually pay off his future college tuition. Be it his cowardly nature at McSpanky's resurrection (which would happen later on in the episode) or in less fantastical circumstances.

Jimmy did not.

The stubborn, gifted, born-into-wealth brat wasted all of his money on science projects that inevitably broke or were forgotten about. The only reason he was here was the deviant had wanted more. He had done amazing things with his genius, but the one thing that talent couldn't solve, was the hubris deep within their heart.

Hubris that Skeet struck upon with all the gusto of a man who had gone parched for weeks on end in the hopes of cleaner water.

A better angle? A more thoughtful counterpoint? A more polite way of describing the sheer consequences of his actions? Skeet was done waiting for a better time. Now was the time to put the selfish bastard in his place.

"This." He draws out deliberately, picking up the packet, "Is iodized table salt. Which, in addition to Sodium fucking Chloride, contains anti-caking agents and Potassium motherfucking Iodate, which is added to prevent something you see a BRIGHTLY COLORED WARNING LABEL for on every single goddamn table salt container that isn't from 1924, the year Iodized salt was first put on shelves, which, to emphasize, was the same fucking month they signed the Asian Exclusion Act into writing."

At this point, Jimmy was visibly shaking, his eyes wide in surprise, incomprehension, and more than a little fear.

And Skeet was still piling fuel onto the fire.

Water pooled on the floor as the moment passed and Skeet continued speaking with a clap of his hands. "Let's just recap. So, not only are you being a pretentious dickweed touting scientific terminology for everyday items just to make your coworker and senior think you've actually done a single fucking google search of research in your entire pitiful life instead of coasting on intuition and , you are factually, objectively wrong. And, not, just wrong, but the sheer ease at which you could've found out the correct answer suggests that you couldn't even bother with the thought that you could've, just maybe been incorrect, and instead jumped to a thought that was pitifully underdressed, pretending to be a fucking gold-inlaid fitted suit, when in reality it can barely be called a shitstain on the graveyard of unadulterated and irredeemable bullshit you have spewed out of your mouth without a single filter to speak of."

Shaking and sobbing, Jimmy pleadingly looked up at Skeet, who ignored his pleas and pressed his finger to their chest in a declarative motion. "I have watched you cause just as many life-threating crises for this town as you have solved, cause just as much suffering as you have deprived. How is a 5-9 high school employee with aspirations at becoming a sound engineer but not a fraction of the money needed for their dream school supposed to accomplish anything when the town they live in is constantly destroyed and rebuilt by a god with all the empathy and forward thinking of a PETULANT CHILD?"

Skeet's voice hitched, and he stopped to catch his breath. Turning away from Jimmy, face hot, he tempered himself. He knew hitting the boy would do no good. Not for either of them. "...exactly how many more years of this will it take for you to grow past that preschool ideology that you tout as though it's gospel, Jimmy? Eventually, the people in your life are just going to move on; from you, from this town, from the petty squabbling that youth engage in. And if you stay as you are now, you will be rooted to the fucking spot. All your friends, family, classmates... coworkers? Gone."

Jimmy broke his gaze, and saw his best friend, Carl Wheezer, simply staring on in solemn silence from behind the counter. Carl knew. He knew this whole time. And, not once could he get a word in. He... hadn't let him. Hadn't stopped for a moment between his erratic projects and ideas. Hadn't slowed down to actually think things through. Not once.

"Jimmy. I am going to do you a singular, final favor, as your superior, as your senior, and as a fellow classmate. I'll be taking over your shift for today. All I ask, is that... from one dude to another? Think about what I said." With all of the words he wished to let out having already been spoken, skeeter stepped away briskly to let Jimmy gather his wits after that verbal beating.

Jimmy would have preferred a beating to... this.

This sickening feeling welling up in his stomach.

This terrible, horrible perspective that believed he had been doing everything wrong this whole time.

For the first time in his entire, thinking, life, Jimmy couldn't help but feel like he didn't have all the answers.

So, for the first time in his entire life, Jimmy finally let himself feel stupid.

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

3.

I slammed the apartment door shut and threw my bag onto the ground. My keys landed with a loud clatter on the counter. My boots clunked against the wall after kicking them off as hard as possible. 

"Jesus, Han, what's your damage?" Lily groaned, emerging from her room. She was nursing a mighty hangover. Pi Phi took "Thirsty Thursdays" seriously.

"That fucking class makes me sick," I spat, throwing myself onto the couch. I looked over at Lily who had shuffled further into the living room. It was only the second week of classes and she had already skipped three lectures.

"What class?" she asked, dragging her feet as she traveled to the kitchen. She turned the tap on and poured herself a glass of water.

I chewed my cheek, pulling my legs up to sit criss-cross-applesauce on the sofa. "Calculus," I sighed, throwing my head back. "Another quiz today."

"Why the fuck did you sign up for calculus, Hannah?" Lily scoffed, throwing a few pills into her mouth before using her water to swallow them. "You know you suck at math. Why such a hard class?" she continued after a large gulp.

"Man, I was late for registration, remember? It was the only math available."

"I just don't understand why you didn't hold off until next semester, or even next year, then," she shrugged. She walked to join me on the sofa. She sat and swung her legs up to the side and rested her head on my shoulder. 

"I wanna take fun classes my senior year," I whined. "I can't hold it off forever." Lily nestled into the crook of my neck.

"What upset you today anyways?" she asked.

"Pretty sure I failed another quiz. I am going to ruin my GPA for a stupid math credit," I muttered. "Plus, I humiliated the fuck out of myself."

"How so?"

"I was desperate. Like, my mind was fucking blank. So I decided to try to cheat," I replied sheepishly. Lily popped her head up and looked at me, baffled. 

For some helpful context, I was practically a perfect student. High school Hannah graduated with a 4.0 GPA. I was involved in student government, theater, and the French club. I was on the honor roll and was in the running for valedictorian. I excelled so much that I got into every college I applied to. I received decent scholarships, if not full rides, from each university as well.

I never got in trouble, either. Along with my good grades, I was also a model student. I never skipped school, I never cheated on tests, and I sure as hell never got yelled at by my teachers. I was so scared of being reprimanded that I worked extra hard to be flawless. The only time I could remember being told off by a teacher was during fourth grade. She didn't even yell at me, per se. She questioned the integrity of my reading log, thinking I may have forged my mother's signature, and I lost it.

My need for perfection didn't stop when I started college. Lily would always make fun of me for how hard I tried to get perfect grades in every single class. I wanted to keep my options open in terms of grad school, so I had to continue to excel. She swore I would develop a stomach ulcer one day because of the stress I put on myself. The Hannah she knew would never cheat.

"I know, Lily," I groaned. "But I couldn't not. I can't fail this shitty class."

"So you tried to cheat. Tried. What happened?" she asked. "Did you get caught or something?"

"Yes, but not by the professor. The kid I was cheating off of caught me," I laughed, shaking my head at myself. "Kyle fucking Spencer. The frat guy."

"Hannah," Lily gasped.

"I know."

"That's so bad. Humiliating almost. What the fuck made you decide to do that? Like, Kyle Spencer. Kyle Spencer of Kappa Lambda Gamma," she cried.

"He's like, scary good in the class. He's a math god or something. I couldn't help but notice so I leaned over to see his answers," I explained. "He saw me and covered his paper, then made fun of me outside as I was leaving."

"That's so bad," Lily audibly whispered. 

"I fuckin' know," I uttered. Lily returned her head to my shoulder. I relaxed into her and pulled my cell phone out of my pants pocket. I mindlessly scrolled Twitter, trying to forget everything that had transpired in the day. I was so embarrassed and likely failing calculus. Lily shifted next to me and sniffed.

"I don't feel good," she groaned. I rubbed her arm knowingly.

"You know what would make you feel better?" 

"What?"

"Alcohol," I replied deviously. Lily sat up quickly to look me in the eyes. She feigned a gag before mustering a response.

"You're kidding." She flopped back onto the other side of the couch demonstratively. "Hannah, I can't even think about drinking right now."

"Did you ever hear of 'Hair of the Dog'?" I scoffed.

"No, Han, I'm not a bastard Bostonian," she moaned. "I don't know any stupid northern sayings like that."

I reached over and smacked her leg lightly. "Excuse me, miss," I gasped. "I'll have you know that that is NOT just a northern-exclusive saying. And, I am not from Boston." I folded my arms over my chest, feigning shock. "Hair of the Dog is drinking more when you're hungover, bitch. It's supposed to help."

"I think you're an alcoholic," Lily murmured. 

I stood from the sofa and padded over to the kitchen, electing to make myself something to eat before drowning in liquor. We needed to go grocery shopping. There wasn't much left in the pantry besides bread and various cans of vegetables and soup. I decided some toast would be fine.

"On second thought, Hannah," Lily called from the other room, "I think I need a fuckin' drink."

"That's my girl," I smiled, satisfied with my job of convincing my friend to engage in bad behavior with me. 

+

I knew from the second I met Lily Davies that I'd have my hands full. She garnered everyone's attention. She was a bright light that no one could take their eyes off of. Lily was beautiful. And I'm not saying that lightly. There was a light in her eyes that let others know she wasn't some run-of-the-mill pretty girl. No. She was witty. Funny. She could draw a crowd.

I consider myself so lucky to have her. When we met, I half expected her to laugh in my face. In my eyes, we existed on two very different planes. Nonetheless, we clicked, and for that, I was forever grateful. At parties like this, she commanded the room, while I became a wallflower. Our relationship was simple. She would drag me to parties, I would be her de-facto bodyguard, she would have fun, and I would make sure we got home in one piece.

I watched her as she danced in her itty-bitty black dress. Her shiny blonde hair bounced as she moved and the light hit her skin perfectly. I kept my eyes fixated on her. I was more than happy with being the sidekick in Lily's story. More than happy to be the bad guy that pulled her away from unsavory men. She was a sunflower and I was her stem, supporting her through anything.

She had the power to say things to men that would steal their breath and make them delirious. It was dizzying. I made it my personal job to rescue her from situations she didn't want to find herself in. When she got drunk, she got flirty, and college boys have an easy time taking things the wrong way.

We landed on heading to Tau Kappa Epsilon's beginning-of-semester party after much debate. When I begged Lily to drink with me, I meant in our apartment, watching movies and eating disgusting quantities of junk food. All fraternities and sororities on campus were invited, though. So there I went, supporting my best friend in her social endeavors. 

The crowd was suffocating. TKE's house wasn't big enough to hold an event like that. But Lily still found a way to dance. She was like that. With good music and a little something to drink, she was the life of the party. 

I left her to go get us some more drinks. We pre-gamed the party in the apartment. The plan was to arrive drunk and get home relatively sober. But once we got there, she decided she needed something more. I didn't trust the knuckleheads serving the alcohol to not give her something extra in her drink if she went to get it herself. Instead of joining her, though, I delivered her a red solo cup full of cheap beer and returned to my spot against the wall. It wasn't a pleasant night for a party of this caliber. I sweat bullets through my dress.

Party attire was important. I didn't care much for dresses, but the situation I found myself in warranted it. Out of sheer avoidance of great guy bullies making fun of me, I settled on a loose-fitting floral print dress I found at a thrift store. Regardless of how cooling it should have been, the humidity in the air was unbearable. Maybe I shouldn't have worn the Doc Martens.

I looked back over at Lily and found that the wolves had descended on her. Two guys, the identities of which I couldn't make out, stood uncomfortably close to her. They were stooped down, I assume in an attempt to hear her better.

I could tell by the way he was holding himself, that one of the dudes thought he was the shit. He stood with his shoulders wide and his chin tilted upward.  I grew sick watching him speak closely to her ear. She replied with a smile to whatever he said, looking up at him with her sparkly doe eyes. I could see this ending horribly. I began meandering through the throngs of people, trying to get to her before it was too late.

As I was steps away from Lily and the two frat guys, I watched one place a hand on her hip, pulling her closer to him. Her eyes widened and her stance stiffened up. She was clearly uncomfortable.

"Hey, asshole!" I shouted. "Get your fucking hands off her!"

"Hey, hey," The guy shouted protectively, throwing his hands up. He turned to face me, and to my dismay, it was Kyle. "What's good?"

"Do you mind letting go of her, please?" I spat, standing with my arms folded. Lily looked at me with pleading eyes. I could see by the way she was swaying that she was very drunk. The poor girl had problems standing up for herself, but that's what I was there for.

"She doesn't have a problem with me, right Lily?" Kyle replied, hugging my best friend tighter, playfully mussing up her hair.

"Bro, let go of her," I persisted, stepping forward slightly. 

"I'm not doing anythi-"

"I will fucking scream," I yelled, interrupting him.

"Fine, fine," Kyle laughed, releasing Lily from his grasp and shoving her gently in my direction. He looked at his frat brother, Ethan with wide eyes and chuckled again. "What, are you like, in love with her?" He was trying to tease me, but I was too angry to care.

"Shut the fuck up, Spencer," I gritted back, grabbing Lily by the hand, and beginning to walk away.

"Hey, you didn't think so bad of me when you were looking at my quiz earlier," he called after me, punctuating the barb with a laugh. I didn't turn around, though. Instead, I continued to weave through the crowd, trying to get to the door.

I muttered a softly spoken magic spell willing the universe to have Kyle get hit by a bus on his way home.

Previous Part | Next Part

[not-my-circuss]

Hope you're doing okay. -C

Why do you care? What are you still doing here?? Why are you still hiding in the safety of online "anonymity," yet you sign the message so I know it was you. So if I chose to respond, it would have to be here in the open, rather than finding whatever blog you're using to message you directly. Just to callback to what we pulled in high school? I could still block you by the way, tumblr allows users to block blogs even if they say something anonymously. But, I've turned off anons now, which I suppose I should have done a long time ago.

I'm genuinely curious, what is the goal here? I'm assuming you've perused through my recent posts, so you know I've been through a breakup. So, what, you thought you'd extend your sympathies, and maybe we'd start talking again since I'm single and it wouldn't offend any partners? And then what? And then maybe we'd get coffee, and you'd tell me all about "traveling abroad" (you went on a cruise, get over yourself) and then you'd start showing me YouTube videos and your latest video game fixation, just like old times, right?

Is it for the drama? Are you clinging onto that star-crossed narrative we spun when we were children? Popping up every few months just to see if I'm still as miserable as you made me?

I'm too tired for all those games now. If you're gonna say something to me, say it with your chest.

Allow me to make it plain for you: I have long since forgiven you for all that happened between us. The cheating, the lies, the berating, etc. I've forgiven myself for going back to you time and time again when all of your actions showed me that all you cared about was yourself. I've forgiven myself for treating you poorly when I did. We were two messed up kids that only had messed up examples of how to love and be loved.

But here's the thing about the passage of time: it gives one perspective, and hopefully, wisdom. So I'm a little bit wiser now, and I know better than to let you near me again. You are both the careless boy that leaves a lantern out in the barn, and the stupid cow that kicks it over. You are the moth that rushes into the flames to feel its divine warmth- if only for a moment- before destruction.

I hope you are well. I hope you have people in your life that make the bad days easier. I hope you've grown. But everything I've seen from you in the last year, little though it may be, tells me that you are still somebody that I don't want to know.

When I think about the girl that crawled through the window to lay with the same person that ripped her apart... I feel devastated for her. The girl that cried in a tiny bathroom in a strange city. The girl that writhed in agony waiting for her body to purge the foreign entity. The girl that begged a boy for attention backstage. What she did just to feel loved, when she didn't know all the unconditional, uncomplicated love in store for her. I carry all the versions of her with me everywhere I go. She deserved so much better. Not just from you, but from herself. So, this is me taking care of her now.

Grow up, and move on.

And stay out of my fucking bar.