#mr barbel

[laulo821]

him... it's been so long...

[laulo821]

in this house we love and cherish hugs & cuddles <3

We really like it when characters hug or perhaps even cuddle

[billthedrake]

CAMP DADDY

"You got this, Carter," I heard from behind me. It was Dave, the guy at the camp I'd bonded with the most.

I wasn't sure I had it. Over the last week we'd done a lot of challenging stuff... long hikes, swimming races, rock climbing, you name it. But the spelunking was freaking me out a little, between the darkness and the tight spaces. I didn't realize I had claustrophobia, but I guess I did. I was hyperventilating.

"Come on, relax, bro," my buddy said. "One inch at a time. I'm right behind ya, man."

I pushed through. And once I cleared into a bigger part of the cave, I saw more headlamps ahead. I unclenched my held breath.

***

I'd been a real fuck up of a teenager. That's why I was here at this Outward Bound camp. Strike one was shoplifting and getting caught for it. Strike two was yelling at my dad and calling him a piece of shit, on his birthday no less. Strike three was the ketamine use. The next weekend Dad was shipping me off to this godforsaken place in the woods upstate. He wasn't going to pay for baseball, college, or my car if I didn't go. So I did.

The first couple of days I gave a bunch of lip to the counselors. I couldn't stand their fake-cheery demeanor or their 12-step BS. "Stay strong," we had to say at the end of each "huddle" meeting. Like it was fucking church.

But I was smart, smart enough how to play this. I knew I should just lay low, go along with it enough. It was just three weeks.

It helped that I bonded with Dave the first day. He was another baseball jock and cynical too. We made fun of the Sunday School teacher vibe of the lead counselor Mr. Connell. Only at Outward bound we were supposed to call the counselors by first name.

Dave had been there a week. "At least all the physical stuff is good exercise," he said. "I'm actually getting in really great shape for next season."

It was true. There was a gym, too, in the common room of the main cabin basement. Kind of a basic barbells and benches kind of gym but a lot of us jocks would work out together, until I got annoyed by them too. Other than Dave, they all bought into the 12 step crap.

I started talking to Pete, a punk guy with a shaved head and a permanent snarl on his face. He was cool. He wasn't just cynical, he'd talk back to the counselors. But one day he was just gone. No Pete.

***

Maybe unconsciously I was trying to get Pete's fate. Get out of this fucking place. I thought three weeks would go fast, but a week and a half had drained me. I mouthed off to Mr. Connell. Sorry, to "Mike." He smiled in that fakey way and tried to be zen about it. But I was getting to him. After dinner I sulked on my own. I'd started to realize Dave was in on it. Playing normal to get my confidence and win me over to the Program.

I was wallowing in self-pity sure, because I knew I was crushed out on Dave. I'd hidden the gay thing pretty well my last few years, but now I didn't have booze or pot or drugs to push my feelings down. Maybe that's why I was acting out, I don't know. My body was just a mess of hormones and my brain a bunch of conflicted thoughts.

***

I woke up in a room that was identical to the two-bed cabin I'd been sleeping in with another guy Zach. Only it wasn't the same room and there was no Zach. On the other full bed a man sat reading a book, kind of a big beefy-but trim older man, dressed in joggers and a zip-up athletic top that clung to his thick muscle. I thought it was a sex dream, but the second I realized it was real I jolted awake, sitting up straight in my small bed.

"Wait, who are you?" I blurted out. This man wasn't one of the counselors. He was older, with salt-and-pepper hair trimmed short. Probably in his early 50s.

Patiently the man set down his book. He didn't have that fakey-nice look but was on the sterner side of normal. "You can call me Daddy," he said. He had a smooth tenor voice.

This was weirder than a dream. "What the fuck?!" I yelled. "I'm not fucking calling you Daddy. Where's Zach? Where are the other guys?"

He shrugged. "You didn't like the other guys," Daddy explained. "We had to change plans."

I was freaking out now. More than in that dark cave. I jolted up and ran to the door. This cabin wasn't in a big compound but was attached to a single small room with a window overlooking the mountains. I looked back on the bed. The man was surprisingly calm, like he expected my reaction, or worse. That was one thing that made me try to check my emotion, to use my head. I knew how these fuckers worked.

"This is kidnapping," I said. I was realizing I must have been drugged to be moved entirely to this new place.

Daddy shook his head. "Fraid not. And we suggested to your father that we extend your stay here to two months. He agreed it's needed. We'll add more if takes all summer.

I broke down. Tears welled up in my eyes. I wasn't going to let this asshole see me cry, and yet I already was. Defeated, I sat on the bed facing away from him.

"It's OK," he said, with terse reassurance. "It's tough here. I'll make breakfast for when you're ready."

***

I gave him the silent treatment. Unlike the Outward Bound counselors he didn't try to make me talk. Maybe he was giving me the silent treatment too, maybe he realized a one-way conversation was useless.

I got dressed and while Daddy was showering up, I stepped out of the small cabin. There was a trail, and it had to lead somewhere. I took one look back into the cabin, then took off.

Fortunately the trail split a few times so if Daddy followed me he'd have a hard time catching up. I don't know why I hadn't thought of escaping before.

I got lost. Real fucking lost. The deeper into the woods I got, the less sense I had of where to go. The day went on. I got hungry. I kept walking. I expected to hear a highway or cars or people or some sign of civilization. Nothing.

I was freaking out. I stopped and sat on a tree trunk. Crying. There was no Dave urging me on. No "stay strong" mantra. No other guys. It was just me, fucking up again. My stomach rumbled, and I felt thirsty. It was getting dusk. I couldn't believe I'd have to sleep out here, but my big fear was wondering if I'd ever get back.

I heard rustling on the trail. Then saw a flashlight and the dark imposing figure of a 6'4" man coming my way. It was Daddy.

"Here," he said, offering me a sandwich and water. "Have this, then we'll head back."

I was too grateful and relieved to mouth off. But on our walk back I had a realization. "You knew I was here," I said.

"Yes," Daddy replied. They probably had a tracking chip in my clothes somehow.

"And you made me wait here alone."

"Yes," he admitted. "You had to learn the hard way, Carter." There was an undercurrent of empathy to his voice.

***

It took me a couple of days, but I opened up. And once I started talking, you couldn't shut me up, it felt like. I talked about my problems, and Daddy listened. It was like a therapy session and a buddy conversation, from breakfast till night.

Daddy was the first man I told I was gay. We were sitting on the Adirondack chairs outside, enjoying the view of the mountains and the sunset and I just went there. I confessed my problems dating girls and the times I got erection problems during sex.

"I told them I was drunk, but I wasn't," I said.

"I'd have done the same," Daddy said in his mellow voice.

That caught me off guard. I tried to read him, but he was still an enigma to me. A flash of me wondered if he was into men. The dude was jacked for his age, and I got a flash of excitement imagining him having sex.

Daddy was counselor, captor, friend, and father figure rolled into one. "What's your deal, man?" I asked. Not hostile like before, but probing. "Here I am spilling my guts out and I don't even know your name."

He smiled but just kept his even manner. "You don't need to know name, just Da..."

"I know," I interrupted. "You're 'Daddy.'"

Something about my exasperated tone made him smile. And maybe relent. "I did Outward Bound when I was your age. I acted out, got into trouble," he explained. "The Program set me straight."

"Was the program as unconventional when you did it?" I gestured around to the isolated cabin where I was more or less hostage.

That got a grin. "More so."

I was curious. "Did you have a Daddy?"

He nodded. "I did." He took a sip from the can of soda. "Later he taught me how to be a Daddy."

I still didn't get whatever psychoanalytic babble the Program was tapping into, but Daddy's words did make me think.

"You know what makes me, mad?" I asked.

"What?"

"This shit's probably working."

That got a chuckle. "You'll be glad when it's over Carter."

It was dark now and it felt darker out here in the middle of nowhere. "You ready for bed, kiddo?"

It was the first time Daddy used that nickname. But I replied I was.

We'd talked so much we were pretty quiet now as we went inside and got ready for bed. Normally Daddy slept in a T-shirt and shorts but that evening he peeled off his shirt. In the lamplight I could admire the powerful chest muscle and ripped abs. Best of all that DILF body was covered in a trimmed coat of salt-and-pepper fur. Before Daddy I didn't realize I was into older men. Now, I had to check my gaze.

"It's ok to look, buddy," the man said. His voice was as soft and encouraging as I'd ever heard it.

"What?" I replied in a checked grunt.

He tossed the shirt aside and turned to face me directly. He was a masculine god, even more alluring for his quiet nature. "It's OK to look," he repeated. "That's what Daddies are for."

The words were fucked up but they gave me a boner, instantly. I couldn't help it.

Daddy saw and was unfazed, peeling down his joggers to show off his soft genitals. That cock was meaty and matched the low-hanging full nuts in their shaved-smooth sac. It wasn't the first cock I'd seen of course, but it was the first live one I'd seen in a sort of sexual situation.

He walked over and pulled down the bed sheets. Daddy's backside was just as magnificent as his front. Strong back and a meaty round ass, the kind I didn't know 50-something men had. But Daddy had one.

My body was shaking, nervously, but the man was acting normal, getting into bed and pulling up the sheet to his abdomen. He gave one more look over.

"If you want to join me Carter, that's your move."

I didn't know if this was some Outward Bound trap or mindgame. A part of me didn't care, I was so horny. It's as if my brain couldn't stop my body from slipping out of my bed and crossing over. The one thing that gave me courage was seeing Daddy scoot his bed to the side to give me room to get in as he lifted the sheet a little. I could see a flash of his erection, even, thick and meaty like him.

"Stay strong, kiddo," he said softly and I nodded, getting into the bed to join him, my body shaking.

"There," he grinned as I finally settled into a lying position next to him. I could feel the heat of his body even if I was afraid to touch him still.

"You're first time with a man?" Daddy asked.

"Yes, Daddy." It was the first time I called him that. It made him smile, which made me glad.

His fingers touched my flank. I was still wearing my shorts but was shirtless and the skin contact felt incredible. This wasn't faking it with a girl.

"You're a very handsome young man, Carter," Daddy said in that soft tenor voice of his. "I'm honored to be your Daddy."

With that the mean leaned in and placed his lips against mine. It was my first kiss with a man, and nothing prepared me for it. A tingle went up my body and my prick surged even harder in my shorts. Particularly when Daddy's tongue pressed forward between my lips and into my mouth.

I was following his lead. Daddy was my coach at that moment. Coach in life and Coach in sex. I couldn't have dreamed of a better one. It was intense and sexual and passionate, but we also took our time.

As we got into it, I got the courage to feel him. His hairy, muscular, warm body. I reached down and touched his cock, hard and alive in my grip. My first dick, and one I'd never forget.

The way I moaned made Daddy pull back from the kiss.

"You like that, buddy?" he grinned.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

"You like dick," he said with assured ease. "Don't let anyone make you think you're a lesser man because of it."

"No, Daddy," I replied, gripping his boner one last time before relinquishing it. I had to feel up the rest of him, too. More.

He slipped my shorts down, at least from one side till I decided to help him out. My dick was sap-wet and as rigid as I had ever remembered it being.

"You're not the only one," he said. "Not the only young man into dick. Your buddy Dave..." he started.

That jolted me in surprise. "For real?"

Daddy nodded. His hand now circled around my crotch before his fingers grazed my boner. "For real."

I don't know if it was jealousy or something else I was feeling. "You do stuff with him?" I asked.

The man shook his head. "No. He has a different Daddy," he explained, pausing before deciding his could share the information. "Connell."

Well, fuck me, I thought. The last thing I would expect.

Now Daddy's lips were on my neck, kissing me as his hand alternated between massaging my smoother body and stroking my cock. "You up for the full ride tonight, Carter?" he asked.

If he'd asked me that even an hour before, I would have chickened out. But the body contact and the sexual intimacy made me want it all.

"Yeah, Daddy, I do," I answered. "Stay strong, right?"

That got a laugh. He leaned up. I'd never seen him look so hot, so handsome. "Yeah, kiddo... that's right. Stay strong." He leaned in for another kiss, softer this time. It felt right. Righter than right.

Then he started working his way down, kissing my chest and abs, feeling me up some, telling me he was going to take his time.

I got my dick sucked for the first time. I got my balls licked. Then Daddy urged me to pull back my legs and proceeded to give me my first rim job.

I decided then and there that two months here wasn't going to be enough. I hoped my Dad would keep me here the whole damn summer.

"Oh fuck!" I hissed. It was stimulating and naughty and tickling at the same time. I loved getting eaten out. I didn't have anyone to compare it to, but Daddy was a pro. Eager, intense yet also working in some finesse to keep it intersting.

I slowly relaxed my hole. My whole body was relaxed, in fact, lying back into the bed, looking up at the ceiling as I kept my legs pulled back for Daddy.

The first finger entry caught me by surprise. I looked down to see Daddy's brown eyes fixed on me, as he worked his finger in and out.

"Stay strong, buddy," he urged softly.

"Fuck yeah, Daddy," I replied. Trying to be his good soldier. Daddy was gonna make me a man that night, and I wanted to be all man for him.

He finally pulled back and reached over. I didn't even notice the little jar there before, but Daddy unscrewed the lid and dug in. There was some liquidy grease that coated his fingers.

And now my asshole. Damn, it made his two fingers feel incredible going in. And out. And in again.

"Yeah, you're hungry, kiddo."

I grunted. Those fingers were feeling intense in a great way, but short circuiting my thought. I flashed to think of Dave, imagining Mike Connell doing this to him.

A third finger now breached my relaxed ring. It gave a few gentle prods then pulled out.

"You're ready."

The man scooted in place, his hard dick standing straight up from his hairy crotch that was still darker brown than his chest hair. I had felt but not gotten a real good look at his cock, but Daddy was real thick and maybe 6.5 inches in length. The guy was horned up, too, judging by how rigid his meat was. He slathered some of that grease on his boner and pushed it down to line himself up.

"The entry might be tough," he warned. "Or not."

"You better not say, 'Stay strong,'" I joked.

That got a laugh out of the man. "You're all man, Carter," he said.

And like that his cock was breaching my hole.

"Unnfg!" I let out, before I caught myself. The sting surprised me. It didn't hurt too bad, but the unfamiliarity of it freaked me out some.

Daddy's hands rand along my abs, gently, coaxing me silently to relax. I tried, until I was successful. More dick slid into me. The man was patient, but I could tell he was really turned on.

I was getting my cherry taken away, and I was thrilled, particularly when Daddy's cock bored deeper. Weirdly, the deeper the man went the better it felt. Daddy felt bigger than 6.5 inches. Maybe I'd underestimated his size, maybe it was just the psychological effect of having him buried inside me.

"Fuck yeah, kiddo," Daddy growled. "Take it."

I looked up at him. The man was a stud who knew what he was doing. "You done this before?" I asked. "Taken a guy's virginity?"

The question caught him off guard. It was almost like he didn't want to answer me. But he looked down with those soulful brown eyes and replied, "I have, Carter. Many times." He pulled his hips back and thrust in. THAT felt fricking amazing and I held onto his meaty arms. Then again. "But I care about each and every one," he added. His thrusts got faster, as Daddy intuited I was receptive. "I care about you, kiddo."

Daddy was taking me there. Physically and psychologically, he was showing me how amazing getting fucked could be. The man wasn't rough, but he pumped faster and harder. He was teaching me I loved it that way. I held on and looked up at him and felt my prick quiver.

"Fuck me, Daddy!" I hissed.

"Yeah, kiddo. Daddy's got ya." His body seemed in control but his breath was ragged and heavy. The man was turned on like hell.

That thick cock seemed a blur inside me now, its way in my tunnel greased up and the heavy hard rod punching some spot inside me.

I dind't realize I was so close to cumming until Daddy's greased fist wrapped around my bone. Not even needing to stroke it, just touching me made me fire off. I saw white, and my body felt hot and tense, then it all got released with a series of cum shots firing out of my young jock body.

I tried to keep my vision, to look up at Daddy in gratitude. To watch his own O face take over form the calm, collected surety of his experience. That got tossed out the window when Daddy came. He was as lost in pleasure as me. That made me happy.

We crashed together. Holding onto one another's hot sweaty bodies, them our lips meeting to kiss again.

"Oh buddy," he hissed finally. Like I was the one who'd done him a favor. Maybe I had.

We didn't talk after, we didn't need to. Instead, Daddy held me in a spoon position and we drifted off to sleep. At least for a few hours before we had sex again.

***

The next week, Daddy had me pack my backpack, and he led me back to main compound. I would have been sad our alone time was over, but I knew it wasn't going to be our last. Daddy didn't have to tell me. I just knew he'd be in my life from now on and me in his.

Punk dude Pete was back. His hair had grown out and was in a military buzz and his snarl was gone. Dave though was the one who welcomed me first with a bro hug. The other guys followed suit.

I wondered how many of them had a Daddy.

***

I was part of the Program now. Welcoming the newcomers. Bonding with the cynical ones. I'd been where they were and knew what they were going through. I'd been a fuck up, too.

Two months went by quickly. My Dad was there to pick me up. He had an apprehensive look on his face. Connell told me that Dad had been updated on my progress, but after what my father had been through maybe he was nervous I'd not been truly changed.

I had my mobile phone back, and I'd already looked at the last messages multiple times. "Stay strong, kiddo - Daddy." Then "You better stay in touch. Love ya, Carter."

I took one last look and tucked my phone into my pocket before running over to give my Dad a big hug.

"Damn, Sport."

Dad hadn't called me Sport in ages.

"Thank you, Dad," I said. There would be more to say later. But the look on his face was a huge reward. His fingers grazed behind my ear as he held my head steady and looked into my eyes. Like he was reunited with a son he'd lost for real.

"OK if we break up the journey home?" he asked, snapping out of his spell and grabbing my bag from me. "It's a long drive."

"Of course," I said.

We got settled into the front seat and Dad started the car. We made some small talk, and Dad caught me up on life back home. Though I didn't miss much, other than maybe Dad re-treating the wood on the back deck.

We were winding down the mountain and re-entering civilization. At least if these small, one-traffic-light towns counted as civilization.

Dad shifted from the small talk. "So... you survived OK, Son?"

I nodded. "More than survived, Dad. Thrived." I had bought into the whole Program now.

He seemed pleased. "I, um... heard from an old Army buddy of mine," he said. Something in his tone seemed laden with meaning. "He said he got to know you real well."

I blushed. I knew damn well my father was talking about Daddy.

"Yes, sir. We got real tight."

Dad had a good idea of what I meant. He gave a gentle nod and glanced over at me. "I'm glad to hear."

I was chubbing up in my jeans now thinking about Daddy. "OK if I go visit him sometime, Dad?" I asked.

Dad's voice got quiet. "That can probably be arranged."

I thought maybe I freaked my dad out. But we were quiet for a lot of that drive. It had been around 3PM when I'd checked out of the Compound, and it was getting dinner time.

I loved diner food and after two months of Outward Bound meals, I was ready for a real restaurant meal. I scarfed down my food, which amused Dad. "Looks like they haven't been feeding you, Sport," he said.

"They definitely don't believe in creature comforts," I said. I pulled out my phone. "This might have been the hardest thing to live without." I mostly was checking to see if Daddy sent me another message.

Dad laughed. Then he got serious. "So... no hard feelings, Carter?"

I sighed. "God, Dad. After what I did to you? What I put your through? I don't know how to make it up to you."

"You don't have to make anything up to me, Son. Just stay on the straight and narrow. At least till you find yourself."

I took that in. "I'm finding myself, Dad. For real."

"That's all a father can ask," he said.

Dad was normally not great at expressing emotion, and already he was itching to get the check and pay for the meal.

We drove a little bit more. Dad had me find an available hotel that wasn't too expensive. I don't think I realized until we checked in how long of a day it had been. Emotionally as much as anything.

I decided not to check my phone again. Daddy and I would find a groove to correspond and to meet again. I trusted him.

After I brushed my teeth, Dad was in one of the beds, watching TV on low volume. He wasn't build quite as strong as Daddy but his upper body was solid, and he had the same soft furry chest. As I stripped down to my briefs, Dad's eyes watched me furtively. Probing me with soft expectation.

I took the initiative this time. Just feeling Dad's eyes on my half-naked body was all the signal I needed. Pausing at my own bed, I turned back to him. "Ok if I join you instead?" I asked.

Dad was too scared to reply. But he nodded and slid over.

Only when I got into bed with him did I realize that Dad's bod was more solid than I initially thought. His clothes always hid the hard tone of his muscle and he had some love handles that stopped shy of a beer belly.

Our kiss was soft and taboo as fuck. Dad's hands clung to my body, like eagle talons. I pushed my tongue into my father's mouth and felt him plunge his back. Dad didn't kiss like Daddy did. It was hard and needy.

Just as impetuously he and I stripped down our underwear. Our dicks were a lot alike. Longer, regular thickness, with a gentle curve to the right, heaving leaking. Like twins. Dad looked down at mine, like I did at his.

"You're all grown up, Carter."

"Yeah, Dad." I reached down and touched his cock. My dad's cock. He wasn't Daddy, he wasn't my first man, but the forbidden aspect made it off the charts. "I gotta learn to be your son again, though."

Dad gulped. His eyes grew misty wet. "You never stopped, sport. Not even this last year."

We kissed. Dad was responding to my soft approach, like I'd responded to Daddy's. My hand ran along his strong chest and his softer middle as we made out. I felt every bit of guilt for how I'd treated Dad and it was coming out in the only way I knew. Like Dad, I wasn't good at expressing emotion.

But I was good at this.

I broke off the kiss with a playful smile. Dad seemed to be trying to read what I was thinking. I let him wonder a minute longer.

I scooted down, kind of kneeling on the bed, till I was face to face with the dick that made me. I touched it again, feeling its poker hot heat and its steel rigidity. I could smell his masculine scent.

"Sport..." he urged, as if telling me something.

His next words caught in his throat as I took his dick into my mouth. I paused a second. Daddy had instructed me in this, but my father's cock felt particularly dry until I summoned up some extra saliva. Then I went down on him, slowly, teasingly.

I was going to make things up to Dad in the way I knew how.

He placed his hand on my head, softly cradling it as I lovingly blew him to completion.

***

The next morning when Dad was in the shower I sent a text.

"Daddy, you didn't tell me you knew my father."

He was up and the reply was quick. "You had to find out for yourself." Then, "I hope you can be a junior counselor next summer."

I thought of what next year would mean. Being off at college, enjoying some independence. Making new friends.

But I knew that meant nothing. "You know I will," I wrote.

"Stay strong," Daddy replied.

"Stay strong," I wrote back, then set down my phone.

[coryosbaby]

2. 𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓴 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓼

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼��𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: Anakin sneaks into your room when everyone is asleep, finds your diary, fucks you, and then his wife asks your mother if she can stay the night.

𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties), Anakin with nipple piercings— nsfw . daddy kink, pillow humping, doggy | | 𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓭: baby, little girl, kid, honey, kitten

𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is part 2 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)

With honeyed eyes and a smile, you can’t stop thinking about your next door neighbor.

You can’t help it! He’s so dreamy, with his big muscled arms, dark hair, and pretty face. And he wants you.

It’s ridiculous; you’re swooning, writing in your glittery pink journal with brushy strokes — Mrs. Skywalker , Mrs. Skywalker, Mrs. Skywalker.

And although it isn’t true— although another woman is taking that name instead of you— you know that this is who you’re meant to be, who you’re meant to love.

Not her.

It’s a hot summer night, a good three days since your last Anakin encounter, and you’ve opened your windows. Warm air streams in through your pink curtains, giving way to a breath of fresh air on your cheeks. Your tank top strap has fallen down, showing some of your collarbone and a bit of your cleavage. Your nipples poke through the fabric, pebbled and— if you’re being honest— you’re incredibly horny.

You can smell the scent of your favorite vanilla candle burning on your desk, but you wish you were smelling Ani instead.

And like clockwork, as if the gods themselves intend it, there he is.

You don’t see him at first— your hand is about to slip down the front of your pajama shorts instead of writing. But when you hear a clatter and a small murmur of “fuck,” from outside of your window you immediately know who it is.

He’s dressed in a black button up and jeans with a cross necklace. Clearly he hasn’t been sleeping even though it’s three in the morning, though you suspect it’s because he’s waited up for you. He grins at you as you take sight of him. His shirt is unbuttoned, leaving little to the imagination. You’ve never noticed it before, given you hadn’t taken his shirt off that first time he fucked you, but his nipples are pierced. Metal barbels sit through them and his chest glistens with a hint of sweat.

Oh, Jesus, you’re swooning.

“Doing that without me?” He teases, grinning. His arms lean against the top of your window.

Excitedly, you get up and run to him as he slips into your room. Your arms wrap around him, and you press your face into his chest. He smells like sweat, cologne, and a hint of alcohol— that must be why he’s become so brave, sneaking into your room like this. You don’t mind. He pulls you to him, and without warning he picks you up and swings you around. You squeal, holding onto his neck as he brings you to your bed and lays you down on it.

“What’s got you so happy?” You ask him. One of his hands grabs your hip while the other comes up to your neck. Your fingers stroke his messy tendrils of hair out of his face. He grins.

“Gettin’ to see you..” he teasingly brings one of your fingers into his mouth, nibbling lightly on your knuckles. “Also, I got a raise.”

You know working as a contractor is no easy job, especially with today’s day and age where money is hard to come by. So the announcement of that has you extremely excited for him.

“That’s fantastic, Ani!” You praise him. You kiss the tip of his nose, and biting your lip as you remember the wetness seeping through your panties, your eyes come down to his chest.

“Didn’t know you had those,” you murmur. Your fingers come down to flick at one of the nipple rings. Anakin sucks in a breath of air, his eyes following your hands on him. “Did they hurt?”

“Like a bitch…” he lets out a tiny sound in the back his throat when you move the barbells side to side and play with them, the stimulation making his cock kick. “Worth it, though. Got em’ a few years ago.”

“Oh yeah? Trying to fit in with the cool kids, old man?”

He snorts, a small smile playing on his lips. “Old man. I’m only fifteen years older than you, little girl.”

“A whole teenager when I was born.” You sigh.

Anakin’s face drops for a moment, curiosity and hint of worry etching across his features.

“Does that bother you?” He questions.

“If it did, I wouldn’t fuck you.” You reply nonchalantly. There’s a playful glint in your eye as you look down at his bulging crotch. “Speaking of…”

You palm him, and he groans lowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Speaking of..”

His knee falls in between your legs, grinding up against the spot that you want him most. “Came to see you, but also came to see this little pussy.”

You whine, rolling your hips up against his touch. His fingers reach between your legs, pulling another mewl out of you as he flicks your clit with his thumb. Anakin coos, mockingly pouting.

“Does it hurt when daddy isn’t touching you, baby?“ You nod your head, and it has Anakin grinning ear to ear. “Thought so. Missed this, honey… missed you purrin’ like a little kitten for me.”

He lifts himself up onto his knees, pulling your legs towards him so your thighs are wrapped around his waist. He lifts your shirt up to your ribs, beginning to leave small kisses as he slips his shirt off of his shoulders. He bites down into your belly, leaving a hint of teeth marks there. All while you’re mewling the whole time— your hands are in his hair, pussy clenching. His arm hits something, mid kiss— what could it be? Pulling away, he takes sight of your journal. Closed, with sparkly pink glitter all over it and your name written in jumbled letters on the front. His curiosity peaks, and he picks it up with raised eyebrows.

“Is this your diary?” He asks, amused. You blush, trying to reach up and grab the book away from him. But he just tsks, and holds your arm down with his much stronger one.

“Wonder what you’ve written in here, baby.”

“No! Don’t do that!” You struggle against him, but to no avail. “Ani, c’mon…”

He flips through the pages with one hand, opening it mid air. And there, in between the pages, falls out a small square photo. Anakin’s Facebook profile picture— him, with his wife. Except his wife isn’t in the photo because you had cut her face out of it.

Anakin should be a little freaked out. Especially since when he continues to flip through the pages, he sees the entry where you had wrote Mrs Skywalker— and Anakin’s name. Just his name, over and over. But he isn’t. Quite the contrary, he gives you another one of his toothy grins and lets out a laugh.

“Jesus, kid. You’re a little stalker, aren’t you?”

“I-I’m not!” You squirm, and he loosens his grip on you. You scramble to put the photo back in between the pages and shut the book abruptly. You hastily move away from Anakin and off the bed to put it into the pink safe in your closet where it belongs. Anakin trails behind you. Quick to forget the pain in your knees as you sit on them and close the lid, you begin to lock up the safe.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mutter. You lean forward and nervously fumble through your hair as your hands rest on the lid. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I think it’s cute,” Anakin replies wholeheartedly. But then, his voice has a dangerous lilt to it, as his fingers make their way to the locks of your hair. He grips it tightly, pulling it back so your head lifts to look up at him. He bends down, just enough so he can graze his lips against your ear. “Sweet, even.. you like me a lot. Don’t you, kitten?”

Flushed, you nod your head. He lets go of your hair, and your head drops back to its regular position. You let out a tiny whimper. As you stand up, Anakin watches your tits bounce through your tank top with a hungry stare. His mouth is on yours, then. Hot and heavy, licking into your mouth and shooting white hot heat up the expanse of your spine. It’s so sudden— your knees practically buckle. You love the way he kisses you. Hungry, aching, hot. His arms envelope your body into his much wider one, and he begins to guide you back towards your ruffled pink sheets. Your knees hit the edge of the bed and you tumble down onto them with Anakin’s fit body straddling your legs. His big hands fist the hem of your tank top and pull it up over your chest so he can get a taste of your sweet, plump tits. He grab your wrists and pins them above your head as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Ani..” you moan, watching the way his lashes flutter and he desperately laps at your pebbled bud. He hums, but when you let out a particularly loud whine, he’s putting his hand over your mouth and pulling away.

“Be quiet,” he says. “Don’t wake them up, or you’re in big trouble.”

You nod, obedient, but instead of diving back into your chest, Anakin’s eyes fixate on your pillow wrapped in silky pink satin. He grabs it, positions it on the bed, and lifts your body up. He slides your shorts down your legs, exposing your wet, clenching cunt. He positions the pillow underneath you.

“Hump it, baby. If you’re good, I’ll fuck you nice and hard. How’s that sound?”

You nod, heat creeping up your neck at the thought of Anakin watching you in such a way. Your pussy lips hit the pillow, and you lean onto your hands to gather friction. You move your hips back and forth, and oh, the silk on your sweet cunt makes you drenched. The way it catches just right on your puffy little clit, your pussy beginning to quiver as it gets the stimulation it so desperately needed. Anakin watches, on his knees, and you look back behind you to see him stroking himself. He’s standing in front of the bed, your ass facing him on the edge. He’s got his thick cock out in his hand, his eyes fixated on the fat of your ass and your pussy peeking out from between your legs. The sight only makes you fuck yourself harder.

It isn’t long, with Ani’s depraved little phrases, watching his precum drip down his fist, that you can feel yourself getting close. You desperately hump the pillow with everything you have, little whimpers of, “daddy, daddy, I want it” spilling from your angelic lips. Anakin grunts as he watches you fall apart, your cum coating the pillow in white, gooey strands. Your body relaxes lazily against it, and you can feel Anakin’s cock prodding at your entrance. Your legs shake, the overstimulation making your head spin.

“Ani..” you say, and that’s all it takes for him to slide himself inside of your tight heat. He groans, low and heavy, as he feels your cunt for a second time. Your body still rests on the pillow, and he looks down to watch the little wet patch under it growing evermore prominent. Your cunt is practically dripping on his cock.

“Oh, baby,” he breathes out, his hands grabbing the flesh of your ass. He lands a teasing little smack to one cheek, making you clench and bury your face into the sheets below you. “Aww, look at you. Daddy’s perfect little cocksleeve..”

“All for you,” you moan out, as he begins to thrust inside of you. “This pussy is all yours, daddy.”

And he wants to reply to you. He wants to agree, say that he’s all yours, too. But the both of you know that it isn’t true, that he will never fully be yours. Not if he’s married to her.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head. Not now. Not when he has you all spread out on his aching dick, not when your plump ass is bouncing back against his hips. No, he’s going to savor this. He’s going to spread open all of your holes by the time the night is done.

—

And when he’s done that, after hours of fucking (love making, is what the both of you secretly whisper to each other. Not fucking, not screwing. Just making love), he lays there with you. There is no sense in leaving. Padme has definitely noticed by now, that he’s out and he’s not coming back for the rest of the night. He holds you to him with his big arms and he whispers little stories to you about his life. You tell him about school, about your passions and your dreams. Things you’ve told him a million times before, but things that Anakin doesn’t mind hearing more than once. His fingers draw teasing circles into your naked back, and your eyes almost flutter shut.

Almost.

The sound of loud knocking on the door makes them shoot open. You hear your mother padding downstairs, and you and Anakin look at each other completely frozen.

Padme.

It’s her voice, ringing out through the house, talking to your mother with a cry in her voice.

“He’s doing it again! He’s cheating on me, cheating on me with some skank, he hasn’t come home…”

Your eyes widen, heat creeping up your neck. She’s talking about you. She doesn’t know that, but still. She knows what Anakin is up to, she knows that he’s seeing another woman. Even as hypocritical as she is, being a cheater herself, you fear getting caught.

You want to cry.

Your bottom lip wobbles, crystalline tears threatening to spill, but right before they can you hear footsteps coming up to your room. Your eyes widen, and without even thinking twice you direct Anakin towards the bathroom interconnected into your room. You close the door on him, and gather up the courage to answer whoever is on the other side as you hastily throw your clothes back on and hide your cum stained pillow.

You look at yourself in the mirror, fucked out and hair messy, but you can just say you were asleep.

Your hand on the doorknob, you let out a breath of air as you open it.

It’s her. She’s covered in rain, and she’s crying.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” she says to you. You try not to gape like a fish. “Your mom said you had an extra blanket in here. I’m sleeping in the guest bedroom, and the comforter isn’t washed yet.”

You gulp, your heart beating out of your chest, but you manage a smile.

“Yeah. Sure, Padme. Wait there.”

You leave the door open merely a crack, and you move to grab the extra blanket sitting in a basket in the farthest corner of the room. You open the door back up and lend it to her. She says thank you, and wanders down the hall.

You close the door with an ache plaguing your chest.

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Sips with Stardom

Jenn Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N's morning is stirred when Jenna arrives before opening hours. She finds herself sipping coffee and sharing stories with the star again. Between bodyguards, family, and an unexpected promise, Y/N's day becomes more than just her regular routine—a start to a little more, one sip at a time.

Word Count: 2.9k

As I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar smell of Chinese takeout filled the air. The sounds of laughter and clatter of utensils echoed from the kitchen. Kicking off my shoes and slipping into my slippers, I sighed in relief. Home. Before I could take another step, Mr. Noodles—my black-and-white tuxedo cat, complete with his signature black bowtie—greeted me by weaving between my legs, purring loudly. "Hey, Noodles," I chuckled, bending down to scratch his chin. He meowed once, flicking his tail, and followed me into the kitchen. Marcus and Caleb sat at the table, surrounded by various takeout containers. Marcus dug into his lo mein while Caleb balanced his fork in one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. "Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!" Marcus called out, waving his fork in the air dramatically. "Yeah, too high on your horse to join your big brothers for dinner? Caleb chimed in without even glancing up from his phone. I rolled my eyes and dropped my bag onto the floor, giving Mr. Noodles a final pat before sitting down at the table. "Whatever you say, peasants, you wouldn't believe the day I had." Marcus raised an eyebrow, grinning. "What happened? Did Tom Cruise stop by to argue with his reflection again?" Caleb snicker. "Or did Chris Hemsworth come in to try and order his post-workout protein shake?" 'Ok. So maybe I don't only keep celebrity conversations with just Wilma.' "No, I still don't know what kind of gym rat demands a coffee shop to make a protein shake," I said, grabbing some fried rice. "But actually, it was Meryl Streep. She and her manager walked in, supposedly for a meeting. And they broke into a feud over whether or not she should be having hot chocolate and a donut." Both of them looked at each other, chuckling. Marcus leaned back in his chair to scratch Mr. Noodles under him. "Meryl Streep, defending her sugar right? You go, girl!" I grinned, stuffing a dumpling in my mouth. "Yeah, his face when she chewed him out was priceless." Caleb's full attention is on me now. "What about Will Ferrell? Did he drop by and give any hints about his upcoming movie?" I shook my head. "No Will Ferrell today. But Liam Neeson came in, ordered tea and a jelly donut, and then tripped on his way out. Spilled tea all over the place." Marcus and Caleb both froze mid-bite before bursting into laughter. Marcus set his fork down, "Let me guess, he threatened the floor after that one, right?" Caleb swallowed his food, "I can just imagine him giving his famous death stare. What did you do?" "I gave him another one, free of charge," I shrugged. "The man looked so heartbroken. I couldn't let him walk out like that." They laughed again, shaking their heads in disbelief. Marcus wiped his mouth, "Man, only in your line of work do we find out Meryl Streep and Liam Neeson are out here having bad days like the rest of us."

We kept eating, trading stories about our day. Marcus talked about a guy at the gym who almost dropped a barbell trying to impress some girl. At the same time, Caleb vented about the latest office drama. While leaning over to offer the piece of chicken on my fork to Mr.Noodles, without even thinking, I casually mentioned, "Oh yeah, Jenna Ortega came in today." Marcus froze, his fork nearly dropping, while Caleb slowly lowered his phone. Both of them stared at me in studded silence. "Wait...what?" Caleb asked, voice rising. "The Jenna Ortega?" It took me a second to realize what I had just said, and I immediately felt my face heat up. Damn. "Uhh...yeah. She was just, you know, having coffee." Marcus leaned over the table, grin growing wider. "Are you seriously telling me you met Jenna Ortega and didn't freak out? Come on, you've been obsessed since she made it big on Wednesday." "I wasn't obsessed!" I protested, feeling my cheeks grow even hotter. "And it wasn't a big deal. She's just a regular person." Caleb raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Did you...like talk to her?" I groaned, running a hand through my hair and throwing my head back. "Yeah, we talked a little. She was reading a book I loved, so we ended up geeking out about the author. She already read it, too, just revisiting it." Marcus' grin grew, looking smug. "You geeked out about a book...with her? And you're sitting here acting like it's no big deal?" I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "She's just another customer like anyone else, guys," Caleb smirked. "Uh-huh, sure. Except you're blushing right now." I could feel the heat creeping back into my face. "Am not." Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "Our lil sis rubbing elbows with big stars. Be careful if she wants to meet us, we're totally gonna embarrass you." I groaned, covering my face. "Shut Up, Please!"

After dinner, I headed upstairs. Changing into a pair of comfy sweats and a loose T-shirt. Noodles, ever my loyal shadow, hopped onto the bed and curled into a little ball beside me as soon as I laid down. He purred, vibrating through the blankets. I grabbed my phone and, doomed scrolled through Instagram and TikTok. But no matter what I did, my mind drifted back to Jenna. The way she was there—from anxious to completely calm in the café. It was hard to match that with the version of her I'd seen on the screen. And the fact that we actually talked? That was still sinking in. Then there was the blush. That small, subtle blush when she realized she was the last one left in the café caught me off guard. Jenna Ortega, the same Jenna who played the confident, intense character on screen, blushing because she'd lost track of time in a quiet little coffee shop? It made her seem so much more...cute. I immediately slapped my face. 'No, no, not what I meant. I meant human.'" When I looked over, Noodles' eyes were wide, and his tail flickering. I must have startled him with that slap. After a moment of us watching each other, Clearly unimpressed, he huffed and circled a few times, kneading the blankets before settling back down. "Sorry Noodles...What do you think? I murmured, my fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes behind his ears. "Do you think I made a fool of myself?" He responded with a soft purr, utterly unbothered by my internal crisis. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, my mind replaying every detail of the evening: the way Jenna smiled when I brought her the donut, her casual posture as we talked about horror novels, and, of course, the way she blushed. It was as if, for a moment, she wasn't Jenna Ortega, the actress. She was just...Jenna. A regular person who got lost in a book, just like me. I sighed, rolled onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. "I'll probably never see her again, right?" I muttered to myself. Noodles meowed softly in response, unbothered by my troubles. But a small part of me couldn't help but hope that maybe she'd come back. Noodles stretched, yawned, and moved closer, curling up beside me. I smiled at his contentment, but my mind was still swirling with thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder if this was it or if I'd get the chance to talk to her again. Maybe she'd come back. With her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep, contemplating the unexpected conversation that had turned my usual day at work into something unforgettable.

The next morning came far too quickly. My alarm blared, and I groaned, rolling over to smack the snooze button. Mr Noodles, the early riser, pounced on my chest and meowed directly in my face until I finally gave in. "Alright, I'm up," I muttered, pushing him off and dragging myself out of bed. After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes and grabbed my bag, ready to head back to The Daily Grind. As I patted Mr. Noodle's head one more time before slipping out the door. I headed out the door, keys in hand, and my phone buzzed as I locked up. I answered. "Hey, Y/N! You're going to have to open up today," she said, practically out of breath like she was jogging. "The twins are dragging their feet and won't put their shoes on! She yelled that last part as I pulled out of my parking spot. "Mama couldn't take them, so I got stuck on babysitter duty again. I'll be in later." I chuckled, imagining the chaos on her end. "No worries, Captain, I can hold down the fort until you come." "Thanks! Oh, and by the way..." Wilma's tone shifted to something more playful. "How did things go with Primera last night?" I paused for a moment, feeling my face heat up. Of course, Wilma was going to ask. I couldn't avoid it, but...did I really have to tell her everything? I could already picture the girl tackling me if she had to find out on her own fruition. "Y/N? You still there?" Wilma prompted, clearly sensing my hesitation. I sighed, knowing there was no way out. "It was fine. We just talked a bit more," I started, trying to keep my voice casual. "Mhm, sure," Wilma replied, egging me on. "And?" I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth creep up my neck. "Jenna...actually walked me to my car," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "And then she teased me, said I had somehow 'charmed' her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She flashed that smile—half playful, half serious—like she knew she was messing with me. Honestly, it was impossible not to blush." "Wait, hold up, She walked you to your car?" Wilma interrupted, her voice dripping with amusement. I could practically see her grinning on the other side of the phone. "And what smile? You've already memorized her smile, huh?" I groaned, blushing. "It wasn't like that, Wilma. She was just being...friendly." Wilma laughed. "Friendly? Please. You're a natural-born flirt, and you don't even realize it. And with "that" smile? She was totally into i—" "I wasn't flirting!" I protested; the thought of Jenna's smirk made me doubt my words. "She was just messing with me." "Oh sure, because it's so easy to charm someone with those smooth barista skills," Wilma teased. "You better brace yourself when she comes back. You're in trouble, Y/N." "Yeah," I admitted, resting my head on the steering wheel. "And then her bodyguards showed up out of nowhere and scared the life out of me." Wilma's laughter echoed through the phone. "Bodyguards? Of course. This keeps getting better by the second! What else? I know there's more." I sighed, already resigned to the teasing. "She made me promise that the next time she comes by, I'd share some of the stories about some bodyguards at the café." There was a beat of silence, and then, as expected, her laughter doubled. "Y/N, you've got her hooked! Wild café stories? She's definitely coming back now. Congrats—you've got yourself a celebrity lover. You're basically famous." "Wilma, seriously," I groaned. "Please don't blow this out of proportion." "Oh, honey, it's already out of proportion," her voice full of playful mischief. "You've charmed Jenna Ortega, and now she's coming back for more. I can already see it—this is how it all starts." I rolled my eyes, fully aware of how this conversation would go. "You're impossible." Wilma snickered. "Well, look at you—handling business like a pro. Don't let the fame go to your head, mascot. Remember to stay humble when you're hanging out with Hollywood Royalty." "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, though I couldn't suppress the small laugh. "I'll try not to let it change me."

"Alright, gotta get these monsters buckled and shipped off to school. Don't have too much fun without me!" "Sure, I'll try not to, and hopefully, I'll survive the first horde," I said, grinning as I hung up the phone. As I pocketed my phone, I shook my head, a smile lingering on my lips. I was starting to get used to the teasing. I grabbed my bag and headed inside. The sun crept up, casting soft light through the windows as I unlocked the door. Stepping inside, I could still feel the leftover warmth from yesterday. The café was quiet and still, just how I liked it before the rush. I went to the back, checked in, and threw my stuff into my locker before heading to the employee area. I slipped into my all-black barista uniform—simple black pants and a fitted black shirt before getting my apron from the hook by the door. The apron was the only pop of color, a warm brown that stood out against the dark. As I tied it around my waist, I fell into work mode. First things first: the plants. I grabbed the watering can we kept under the counter, filled it up halfway, and made my way around, giving each hanging plant a good drink. The soft trickle of water and the rustle of leaves was strangely calming, making the café feel like it was waking up, too. I always made sure to take extra care of the plants; Wilma was obsessed with them. Her grandmother had a green thumb, and she followed suit. So she'd notice if even one leaf looked droopy. Next up, I headed to the kitchen to bake the day's pastries. The scent of flour and sugar greeted me as I pulled out the ingredients. I started with the croissants, carefully rolling the dough before placing them on the baking tray.

While they baked, I started on the rest of today's menu items. If a customer wanted anything else, we'd bake it fresh for them. Next, the muffins were mixed with batter and folded in fresh blueberries. The lemon scones were last—I zested the lemons, mixed the dough, and shaped them perfectly before sliding them into the oven. As they finished in the oven, the warm, sweet smells began to fill the café, and I could already imagine the regulars lining up for their favorites. Once they were done, I arranged the croissants, muffins, and scones, which were still hot, and I knew they'd be the first to go as soon as we opened the doors. I also double-checked the coffee machines, making sure they were clean and ready to brew all day long. Once the plants were watered and pastries set, I headed to the front window to hang up a new poster advertising an upcoming poetry night we were hosting. Wilma printed and designed it with bold artistic letters and a little sketch of a coffee cup next to it. I used a bit of tape to secure the edges, securing it to the front window and centered for everyone to see. As I finished up, I wiped down the tables and chairs, making sure everything was spotless. The last thing I needed was someone complaining about a sticky spot on a table or chair. I rearranged the cushions, giving the booths that extra welcoming touch. Everything was in place by the time I was done, and The Daily Grind was ready to go. The café had this lived-in feel that always made me smile. It was the kind of space that felt like a warm hug—for anyone who needed it. I poured the fresh streaming brew into a mug, fixing it up just how I liked it, feeling the warmth spreading through my hands. As I leaned against the counter, taking that first comforting sip, a familiar figure appeared outside, her bodyguards in tow. I wasn't even officially open yet, but when Jenna Ortega knocks, who am I to not answer? I walked over to unlock the door, letting her and the guards in. Jenna wasn't in her usual hoodie this time. Today, she wore a stylish see-through white tee paired with a pair of plaid pants with high heels. Looking casual but chic. "You look nice," I said, feeling the comment slip out naturally. Jenna smiled warmly. "Thanks. She added, "I have an early interview for an upcoming film...and then some other boring meetings," her tone was slightly sarcastic. I gave her a teasing look. "Boring? Sounds like you've got a rough life," I joked, rolling my eyes playfully. Jenna chuckles lightly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Yeah, it's tough being me," she shot back. I shrugged, "Well, technically, we're not open yet, but I've already got everything set up, so if you want, I can get you and your crew settled in." Jenna exchanged a quick look with her bodyguards, who nodded back at her. "Thanks, that would be great." I turned to the guards, who had positioned themselves quietly near the entrance. "So, what can I get you guys?" The taller two, who had a more serious demeanor, spoke first. "I'll take a hot coffee. Black, with two pumps of vanilla and a dash of cinnamon." The second guard, who seemed more talkative, said with a small smile, "Tea, please. With milk and one sugar. I'm more of a tea guy myself." I nodded and then looked back at Jenna, expecting her to give her order, but I beat her. "Iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream, right?" Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Not bad. I guess I'm predictable." Jenna leaned her back on the counter as I got to work preparing the drinks, glancing toward the front. "What's that about?" she asked, pointing to the poster I hung earlier. "Oh, that? We run an event for people to come to enjoy poetry or music with their coffee. It's pretty laid-back. Kind of a 'grab the mic if you feel like it' vibe." Jenna nodded, looking at it. "Noted," was all she said softly. "Here's your drinks," I called. Each drink lined up. I handed the bodyguards their drinks, and they settled into the bar area by the cash register while Jenna and I sat at one of the tables, far enough away to talk privately.

"Sorry to inconvenience you again." Jenna replied, smiling briefly before glancing out the window, her fingers tracing the rim of her drink, a little distracted. "You look like you're lost," I teased. "Something on your mind?" Jenna blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and giving me a small smile." Just thinking about the day ahead. Meetings, interviews...nothing too exciting." She glanced at me, smile falling slightly. "But I guess everyone has their own version of busy, right?" I nodded. "Yeah, but at least your 'busy' involves making movies. Not a bad gig." Jenna chuckled softly, "True, but you'd be surprised how much of it is just waiting around, talking about things you've already said a thousand times. It's not all glamorous." I tilted my head slightly, "I can imagine. It's like running a coffee shop. People think it's just pouring drinks and chatting with customers, but there is a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff no one sees." She looked up around me, a spark of intrigue in her eyes. "Yeah? Like what?" I shrugged. "You know, making sure machines are maintained, cleaned, and functional, keeping the inventory stocked, baking pastries fresh every day, And don't even get me started with dealing with the occasional difficult customer, celebrity or not." She laughed, her smile returning tenfold. "I guess we both deal with our fair share of drama, huh?" I grinned, nodding. "Exactly. but hey, at least you get to wear cool outfits. All I get is this apron." She glanced at my apron. "Well...it suits you. And besides, I'm sure you could pull off one or two if you tried." My blush crept up, but I sipped from my cup to cover it. Jenna gave me a playful smile, taking a sip of her own. "So," Jenna began, "Where's Wilma this morning? I feel like I'm missing the other half of this Daily Grind dynamic duo." "She had to drop off her siblings at school," I explained, getting comfortable. "We've been best friends since preschool. Never really been apart, even traveled across the country to open this place together." Jenna's curiosity grew. "That's amazing. No wonder you guys make a great team; you're like a hive mind." I nodded, laughing at the thought. "As terrifying as that is, we do make a great team. Wilma's practically family. We've seen each other through school and jobs. It's been an adventure." Jenna's gaze softened as she asked, "And your real family? Are they around?" I shifted slightly, setting my drink down. "My older brothers, Marcus and Caleb, live here in California with me. We share an apartment together. But the rest of my family, my parents and younger sister, are back in New York." Her eyes lit up. "Wait, you've got a younger sister too? Same here—she can be such a pain, always finding ways to bug me, but that's little sisters for, right?" Jenna chuckled softly, a mix of affection and exaggeration in her voice. "She keeps me on my toes." I chuckled, adding, "Tell me about it. Sometimes, it's a lot of deciding whether to ship her off or not, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. And then, of course, there's Mr. Noodles." Jenna's brow furrowed in confusion, gnawing at her straw. "Mr. Noodles?" I smiled, nodding. My tuxedo cat. He's the real boss of the house." Jenna gasped loudly, startling her guards. "I need to see pictures. Now." I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the dozens of photos I had of Mr. Noodles, and handed it over. Jenna's face lit up with a huge smile as she swiped through the photos. "He's adorable! Look at this gentleman; his tie is too cute! How can you ever leave him to go to work?" I shrugged, shaking my head. "It's tough, but he's got work too. He's a professional napper around the clock, so he manages without me." Jenna handed the phone back, shaking her head in return. But my brain froze; her fingers brushed against mine for a brief moment. It quite literally—shocked me. "Thanks," she said, her hand lingering just a second longer than I expected before she pulled away. "No problem," I replied, trying to calm my racing heart.

"I think I might be in love with Mr. Noodles more than anything else." she joked. I laughed as the door swung open, and Wilma burst in, a disheveled mess, panting like she had just run a marathon. "Sorry, sorry! I swear, herding those beasts into the car is like trying to wrangle lions." Jenna, her guards, and I all turned to look at Wilma, who attempted to play it cool, straightening up as she wiped her brow. "Don't mind me. I'll be in the back getting ready." But before disappearing, she shot me a cheeky smile and said, "Keep charming, mascot." I quickly drank from my empty mug, hoping the ground of the mug would swallow me whole. Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Mascot?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. I rubbed the back of my neck, "Yeah, it's just Wilma's nickname. She has called me since we opened the café, and she says I'm the face of the place." Jenna let out a laugh, "That's cute. It suits you," she teased, her smile growing. She added, "So, do I call you Mascot now, or is that just reserved by Wilma?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "More like trademarked; she's big on original nicknames but doesn't mind if they stick." "Alright, then, I'll have to go to the drawing board." She chuckled. Jenna's guards glanced at each other, then at the phone in front of them, before standing up. "Ma'am, we've got to head out. Your manager's been calling non-stop," one of them said, holding up Jenna's phone. It read 25 missed calls and 12 growing messages. She sighed, clearly not ready to leave, but she nodded. "Alright, guess I've got to go face the music." She stood up, and I offered to top off her coffee. "You've got a busy schedule. Want a refill to help get through it?" Jenna smiled gratefully. "That would be great, thanks." I quickly refilled her cup, handing it back to her as she pulled out some cash. I frowned, confused. "You don't have to—" She cut me off with a smirk. "I never paid for my drink the other day, and I'm covering today, too. Keep the change as a tip for the drink and for treating me like an actual person." She handed me the cash, along with a piece of paper. As Jenna and her guards left the café, the door softly closed behind them. I stare down at the money. Suddenly, I felt a pinch on my arm. "Ow!" I yelped, spinning around to see Wilma scolding me. "That was to snap you out of it. Also, for not charging your celebrity crush like a regular customer," she teased, hands on her hips. I shot her a look. "I was! I was just caught up in conversation. And besides, Jenna's a good tipper." Looking back at it, I realized the paper wasn't just her receipt—it had her Instagram handle scribbled at the bottom, along with a note that read, 'Thanks for the coffee and conversations again, Slick. You still owe me some more café stories.' I stood there, dumbfounded, as Wilma yelled back, "Come on, mascot, it's opening time before I take your tip!" Snapping back to reality, I shook my head and pocketed the receipt and money. "Alright, alright, I was just counting!"

[laulo821]

OH MY FUNKING GOD MY HUSBAND LOOKS SO GOOD LOOK AT THAT I'M CRYING... BABYGIRL

more doodle req. can you possibly draw my OC Klark my beloved please? he's a mad scientist/explosive expert, part raccoon and his best friend is his sentient shadow (called Mr. Barbel. Doesn't have to be included) <3

i would do anything for him

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ONE OF THE BEST AUTHORS ON THIS PLATFORM.

I have a request is there any way you could do the “I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you, and I can’t stop thinking about you" prompt but with Zoro. Having a female reader just recently joined the crew only for them to be enemies. Both of them have a history of being enemies and now the whole crew sees them fight so the other is 5ft feet under. Only for them to be confused as to why their heart beats like crazy around each other.

Would really appreciate it if you did my request! 🥰🙏

Thank you so much for your kind words @mars-mizuko and @beachaddict48 🥰🥰 I love reading your reactions to my little silly stories and I tried my hardest to make you happy with this request! It turned out a bit bigger than the others, but I don't want to limit myself with the story I want to tell and I've accepted that some requests will have bigger fics than others! I do sincerely hope you enjoy this! Thank you for participating in the event and for all of your support!

Source for Pic

Backstabber

Word Count: 3637

Tags: fem!reader; enemies to lovers; suggestive content; implied sex; cursing; sexual tension; idiots in love;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You never thought you'd meet the infamous bounty hunter Roronoa Zoro again after four years apart. Yet here you are, part of his crew, and all he wants is to get rid of you.

|Masterlist|

“No, Luffy.” 

Two words. Just two words and I already want to rip his head off his shoulders. This is gonna be great!

“Why?” Luffy cocks his head to the side, his pinky reaching inside his nose in search of the annoyance there.

“Shut up, Mosshead!” Sanji growls, his face close to Zoro’s closed-off expression. “Luffy, yes. She would be the most wonderful addition to our crew.”

Aw, see, the cook’s nice!

“She’s not trustworthy.” The swordsman has both his eyes closed but you can see the way his jaw ticks as he tries to keep his emotions at bay.

“Ditto, Roronoa, yet I just helped save your ass.” You bite back. Two can play the accusation game. It’s actually been four years since the last time you saw Roronoa Zoro. He was skinnier then, less… bulk. Still the same asshole, though.

His eye snaps open and you notice yet another difference. He’s more dangerous, ruthless, and predatory. “Measure your words, Backstabber. I’m not the same man I was four years ago.”

You inch forward, squaring your shoulders and measuring up to his height, even if you can’t reach it. “It’s too bad I am not the same woman I was four years ago, either.”

Nami and Robin watch the interaction with veiled smirks. Sanji is seething and being restrained by Franky to prevent him from attacking Zoro for speaking rudely to a lady. 

“Welcome her in, Luffy.” Robin says with a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I’d say she fits right in, Cap.” Nami says with a chuckle.

And just like that, you’re welcomed into the most dysfunctional pirate crew you’ve ever met.

-*-

You and Zoro don’t like each other. Period. There’s no truce, there isn’t even a semblance of a fake peace. It’s an all-out conflict between the two of you and the Sunny has become an active warzone. 

“I don’t want you anywhere near my space, Backstabber!”

“You don’t own the ship, Roronoa!” 

Nami accepts the refreshment Sanji brings her and sighs, tilting her head up to where the two of you are bickering. You just wanted to train and shake away inertia, and the crow’s nest is where the barbells are. 

But nooo, Mr. Salty claims that this is his space! As if he fucking owns the ship.

“LUFFY!” You both yell out the window trying to get your captain to resolve your issue this time. 

“It’s been a week.” Robin says weakly from her perch on the lawn chair.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Nami whispers back to her.

“Guys, make it stop, they’re so loud!” Chopper whines as he cuddles in Robin’s lap.

Luffy, bless him, doesn’t even move from his spot, so you sigh, pushing your index finger and thumb against the bridge of your nose trying to contain the massive migraine threatening to settle behind your eyes. 

“Look here, Roronoa, we have to make this work. Whether we like it or not, we are now Nakama and-...”

“I could never be your Nakama!” He hisses, dropping the barbell near his feet with the loudest thud imaginable. Sweat drips from his hair and runs down his temples, making the vein there glisten as it throbs menacingly. His (big, muscular, defined) chest heaves from barely contained rage and you force your eyes to settle back on his face because, somehow, the sight of his sweaty, glistening pecs turns you hot and bothered for reasons that have nothing to do with anger. 

“Well boo-freaking-hoo. Learn to deal with it, will you? You’re a big boy.” You say slowly, emphasising each word with a step in his direction. You’re taken aback by your closeness when his scent envelops you and dazes you in more ways than one. 

It’s familiar and comforting: steel, salt, sweat…

But it’s also intoxicating and dangerous and new…

Fuck.

-*-

It’s only been one week and Zoro is ready to throw you overboard. Too bad you don’t have a devil fruit or he could watch you sink without a hint of remorse. That being the case, it would just be funny as hell to watch you get pissed off at him while soaking wet.

Wet like you are now. 

He found you in the middle of your workout in his crow’s nest using his training equipment in his space. You’d been there long enough for sweat to make your hair cling to your forehead, for your top to turn a darker shade and cling sinfully to your curves, and for your sweet scent to mingle with his sanctuary, making his head spin. 

Zoro feels like growling, though he’s not sure if he’s growling for the right reasons. 

And now you’re approaching him with fearless steps, your finger pointing at him accusingly, while your lusciously plump lips form words: ‘boo-freaking-hoo’. And all he can think about is how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“Get the fuck out.” He growls for real this time and you stop pacing. He knows he’s giving off a dangerous aura and he means it. Because his heart is doing some freaking weird shit he doesn’t want to dissect right now and he needs you out of his sight.

Immediately.

It’s a good thing you obey and scurry out - still pissed and calling him all sorts of names, though - because the strain in his pants was about to force him to bend you over the nearest surface and have his way with you.

And he definitely can’t do that.

-*-

Eventually, with mediation from Robin and Franky, you and Zoro settle on a schedule for using the crow’s nest to train. It’s not so hard, since Zoro spends half the morning and afternoon napping, leaving you plenty of time for your daily workout.

“Why do you and Zoro hate each other?” Chopper asks innocently during lunch, and the table falls into an awkward silence. No one tries to change the subject since everyone’s curious.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as memories from the past come rushing back. You and Zoro used to bounty hunt together. You met randomly while tracking the same wanted pirate. After beating the pirate’s crew and helping each other out, you split the bounty and became friends. 

From then on, the friendship blossomed. Zoro had an easier laugh before, he wasn’t so guarded, so closed off. 

Did I cause him to be like that?

You bonded. Actually, so much more than that, you were head over heels for him. The whole works: stomach aflutter with butterflies, fireworks exploding behind closed eyelids, a drum instead of a heart. 

And then there was a misunderstanding. You got a tip about a small-time fry, barely 6k berries, hardly worth your time. But the asshole was harassing a town and you knew you could take him alone. Zoro was collecting a previous bounty so you didn’t even tell him where you were going. 

Turns out the fry wasn’t easy or small. It was huge. It was 16k, not 6k, and he was a tough nut to crack. You could’ve used Zoro’s strength, but you managed. Scraped, bruised but prideful. When you went to collect, intending to share the bounty with him, Zoro was beyond angry. He found out where you’d gone and assumed you’d gone behind his back to collect the bounty and the fame for yourself. 

Things escalated. You fell out with each other.

Over a freaking misunderstanding. 

You were stubborn as fuck. And you soon found out he was equally stubborn, if not more. So here you were. Still mad at each other over something that had happened more than four years ago.

“We just don’t get along, Chopper. We used to be friends, and then… we stopped.”

Zoro’s glass nearly shatters with the force he uses to set it down on the table. “Bullshit, Backstabber.”

“Stop calling me that, asshole.”

“Guys, guys, you’re at the table…” Franky starts.

“Backstabber? Why? You went behind my back and collected a huge bounty without telling me. That sounds like backstabbing to me!”

“You didn’t even let me explain!” You rise, palms slapping against the wood, causing your water glass to turn and spill. 

“What was there to explain? How you got greedy? How you abandoned me without a word? Because that shit stung more than the fucking bounty!”

You gasp and take a step back, grasping the underlying hurt in his words. Abandoned him…? Is that what he thinks happened?

“I… I never meant to abandon you…” Lowering your eyes, you sense the crew shifting uncomfortably under your words. 

Zoro is silent. 

Just as you raise your head to meet his eyes, a cannon blast shakes the ship, forcing the crew outside to battle an oncoming enemy. 

-*-

In the heat of the battle, all animosities are forgotten. You and Zoro move as one, even after four years apart, you can still fight back to back as you used to. It’s both exhilarating and overwhelming. 

Zoro still hasn’t calmed the frenzied rhythm of his heart. You had claimed you never meant to abandon him. Were you speaking the truth? Because, as far as he knew, you had chosen to leave him behind, collect the big bounty and disappear from his life without ever looking back. 

That had been the biggest disappointment he'd faced in a long while. After four years, he thought you were part of his past. No longer a constant presence in his mind, or worse,  in his dreams. 

You were gone, and good riddance.

What were the chances of him meeting you again in the Grand Line, anyway?

The Marines attacking the Straw Hats are predictably weak, but there are many of them and Zoro is distracted by the earlier conversation. Apparently, so are you, because there’s no way in hell four-years-ago-you would’ve let that attack slip through your defences, let alone now-you. 

Zoro grunts and slices through the three Marines in front of him to reach the bastard pinning you against the Sunny’s wall. His sword blade pressed to your throat, your arm laying limp and bloodied, rendered useless for the rest of the fight. 

“I’m gonna count to three and before I fucking reach two, you’d better have let go of her and be out of my fucking sight, or you’ll lose your limbs one by one to my blades. Starting with that hand.” He growls as he notices the Marine pressing his hand against your chest to keep you pinned to the wall. 

-*-

Fuck, that was hot. 

How can your heart be racing this fast when you’re facing possible death at the hands of a freaking weak Marine? You have no idea how you got into this position. You know how to fight better than any of these army fools! 

You were distracted, dumbass.

Yeah, you were distracted. You were thinking about the possibilities and the what-ifs of four years ago, if only you had spoken to Zoro before he thought you abandoned him. And all that thinking got you pinned to the wall with an injured arm and a blade to your throat.  

“One…” Zoro starts counting and you hold your breath. You’ve seen him fight, the Marine better run. “Two…”

His voice is eerily calm, but the intensity of his words leaves no room for argument. He’s dangerous, he’s lethal, and he’s not playing games.  

Even though the Marine drops you unceremoniously and starts to run, you know he isn't getting far. The manic grin on Zoro’s face just before he slashes the Marine makes the critters in your belly flutter and dance all at once.

Fuck.

Zoro did start with his hand.

-*-

“She’s fine!” Chopper exclaims as he steps out of the infirmary with a wide smile, his hoof clasping your uninjured hand as you join your Nakama by the galley. The crew receives you with cheers and you feel a bit ashamed. You wanted to prove your worth but the battle didn’t go the way you meant it to. Still, none of them make you feel unworthy.

Robin fusses over you, Luffy tries to hug you before Nami stops him with a punch, Usopp is already retelling the tale of the thousand Marines who attacked you and Sanji glides to your side with a refreshment and amiable words, worried, anxious and happy you’re safe.

And that’s where Zoro draws the line. “Can we talk?” His gruff voice rolls over you like a caress, and you bite the inside of your cheek trying to snap out of it. 

“Yeah.” You follow him to the crow’s nest unsure of what he wants to say. The entire walk is wrapped in piercing silence, tension hanging like a thick fog. Once you arrive, you’re too wound up to sit, so you start pacing. 

“Explain.” He says, apparently too wound up to sit as well.

The fuck?

“Explain what?”

“What you meant at lunch.”

You try to cross your arms over your chest, but the injured limb is still out of action so, instead, you place your good hand on your hip and stamp your foot. “Listen, honey,” you mock, “you better start using your big boy words because I’m not going to play riddles with you and-...”

Your sentence is cut short when he takes two strides forward, forcing you to step back until you collide with the training bars. Zoro’s face is inches from yours and the ticking in his jaw is back. 

His eye pins yours, and your legs wobble under the intensity of his stare. “I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you,” he drawls, slamming his hand against the bars beside your face. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The world spins as you suck in a breath, trying to understand his words. What does he mean?

“I can’t stop thinking about your lips…” His thumb presses against your lower lip, tracing it roughly. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing your neck.” His lips brush against the pulse on your neck, teeth nibbling and pinching. “I can’t stop thinking about you… squirming under me!”

Zoro’s hand gropes the flesh of your hip, his fingers sinking in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. “Tell me to stop.” He whispers, his tongue tracing your earlobe with sinful licks. “Fuck. Just say the words.”

Your head falls back against the bars in abandon as his hand drops from your hips, fingers inching under the waistband of your jeans. 

“Don’t stop.” You sigh.

And he doesn’t.

-*-

“I didn’t abandon you.” You’re still in bliss after the moment you just shared. You had thought about this, fantasied, dreamed, imagined… every possible variation of what just happened. But it was still better. “I didn’t know the pirate had a 16k berries bounty. I thought it was 6k. I was going to take care of him, call it a day and meet you to collect the bounty.”

Zoro’s still, his chest still heaving slightly, sweat clinging sinfully to where your mouth had been moments ago. 

“But then you left, thinking I betrayed you, without giving me a chance to explain before disappearing from my life.” Your legs are still shaking and aching. Zoro was brutal and intense. And you loved every second of it. 

“Well that makes sense…” He says as his expression softens.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your disbelief makes you face him with a scowl and bared teeth. 

“Look at how much fun we could’ve been having for four years instead of hating each other. My bad, I guess!” His cheeky grin only makes you seethe more and you scramble to your feet to collect your clothes and leave him there. 

“Unbelievable! You’re an ass, Zoro.” You state as you open the hatch to leave him and his smugness behind.

“Meet me later?”

The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and then to your ears as you face him. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. You show him the middle finger before closing the hatch. “After dinner in this spot. Be naked and don’t be late. Asshole.”

Roronoa Zoro used to be a friend, then an enemy, then a Nakama… now you can’t deny all the fluttering in your belly when he looks at you. But the fluttering’s fine. You can live with that, it’s actually exhilarating. 

It’s the frenzied beating of your heart that you have a problem with. That, and the clenching in your chest when you and Zoro gaze at each other. 

That’s what scares you.

-*-

Dinner that evening is the tensest meal you’ve had on the Sunny since joining the crew. On the outside everything looks normal. Luffy is eating from everybody’s plate, Sanji is fawning over Nami, Robin and you, and Usopp is entertaining the table with how he single-handedly defeated one hundred marines in the fight you had earlier. 

But every time you glance at Zoro, he’s pinning you under his gaze, an infuriating smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he downs an entire bottle of sake. You try your damn hardest to focus on the food in front of you instead of letting your mind revisit the most mind-shattering and intense moment of your life. 

Nami asks if you’re alright and you weakly respond with a yes, saying that you’re just tired from the fight, but you don’t miss her curious expression when she catches the way Zoro is staring at you. Fuck. If he doesn’t stop doing that, he might as well wear a sign on his forehead saying you just had sex. 

Bastard.

Zoro leaves first and after helping Sanji clear the plates - even if he vehemently refuses your help - you make your way up to the crow’s nest. You told Zoro to be waiting naked, but you’re actually having second thoughts. Has he forgiven you for what happened four years ago? Have you forgiven him for not even wanting to hear your explanations? 

You’re not even sure if you’re friends, acquaintances, enemies or something else entirely. And that needs to be settled. 

Taking a deep steadying breath before opening the hatch, you brace yourself for whatever is coming, but you can’t help a small squeak from escaping your lips as you see Zoro waiting for you, bare-chested, cross-legged and leaning up against the bars.

“You’re late, Backstabber.”

“Your pants are still on, Mr. Salty.”

He chuckles and the sound makes your heart skip a beat weirdly. Should you talk to Chopper about this? It seems like something you should worry about. 

Zoro moves away from the bars and takes a step your way, that smug grin tilting his lips in an endearing way. “You want them off that bad?”

You take another step back, though your legs feel like jelly. “Smug asshole.”

He doesn’t answer you with a cheeky reply and his lips turn into a thin line again. That same closed-off expression he had when you first joined and now it seems like the step back you took was a step back in… whatever this is.

“Look…” He says your name while scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry. About the way things ended between us all that time ago. It seems silly to still be upset about it, especially now that you’ve explained yourself.”

You nod, agreeing and there’s a lightness to your chest that wasn’t there before. A sort of closure to that chapter of your lives, something you’ve carried with you even if you were unaware of it. 

“Also,” he continues as he takes another step forward. This time you don’t back away. “About what I said the other day - about us not being Nakama - I didn’t mean it that way.” He sighs and reaches for your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle. “I was just angry.”

“Are you still angry?” You ask, your breath catching slightly in your throat. 

Zoro’s finger brushes the inside of your wrist, absentmindedly. “I don’t even know.” He lets out a sigh that resembles a grunt and tugs at your wrist, pulling you to him. “But I know I can’t go another day without you, let alone four years.”

Your heart skips another beat as his words sink in, and this time it continues to beat in this weird staccato rhythm. “Then don’t…” You finally murmur, pressing yourself against him, feeling the heat of his skin against your fingers. 

He grins again, that shit-eating grin he used to give you back when things were still fine. “Good.” He drawls out as he pinches your chin and crashes his lips against yours in a desperate claim. His touch electrifies you and tingles in places it shouldn’t, lighting you up from within and making you feel more alive than ever. 

-*-

Time passes and something shifts. The crew notices it since you bicker less. You’re pretty sure Nami and Robin know what is going on between the both of you, though they don’t say anything. But it should be a dead giveaway since you’re ‘training’ together now instead of sticking to your separate training schedule. 

You still argue on a daily basis, though now there’s an underlying understanding that wasn’t there before. You’re not arguing out of past sorrows, hurt, or unresolved conflict. You’re arguing because it’s just your nature. And you notice that there’s something deeper in your connection. Those skipped beats of your heart, that fluttering in your belly… Those are all part of something far more intense that you don’t want to name yet. But you realise that there’s no rush in naming whatever you have. You have time.

Because Zoro might still call you ‘Backstabber’ with an annoyingly smug smirk, and you might call him ‘Mr. Salty’ with equal fervour now and again, but at the end of the day, you’re both exactly where you want to be: right beside each other.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi

[muscletitanlover]

Derek Lunsford, USA IG: dereklunsford_

[mitsuyeaah]

late nights, heavy weights.

— rindou haitani

cw: gym bro!rindou, fluff, shy reader, rindou being a supportive & flirty gym bro, gym jargon. spotting: when a person assists the weightlifter to make sure they do the exercise in a safe manner without any injuries. <3

a/n: i was at the gym earlier and i got this idea. have not written for mr rindou haitani in a while sooo here he is!

it was one o’clock in the morning, the cool air of the early morning engulfed your body as you made your way to the entrance of the gym—the door beeping as you placed your key tag against the reader. walking in, you were met with the quiet gym music playing in the background. the gym was mostly empty; no staff in sight, and maybe one or two people working out and minding their business.

you liked working out around this time to avoid the after work rush hour, plus, you could go on at your own pace with no one waiting on you to use the equipment next. after stretching your body, you headed to the open squat rack, ready to hit legs for today.

your workout was going well so far, you were able to steadily squat heavier weights while maintaining a good form and a straight bar path. you wanted to opt for a lifting belt after placing another plate on the barbell but noticed that you must’ve forgotten it back at home. mentally cursing yourself, you looked around around the almost empty gym to see if anyone had a spare belt you could borrow.

one woman was on the treadmill—no luck with that—while a man was on a weightlifting platform, doing deadlifts. his two toned hair was tied in a low ponytail, hues of blonde and baby blue securely wrapped in a hair tie. the man sported a black muscle tee and shorts but what caught your eye was his unused lifting belt on the floor next to his belongings.

mustering up the courage, you waltzed your way over to the man and gently tapped his exposed arm. damn, he had muscles. he turned around and took an earbud out, “yeah?” his chest heaved up and down from the exercise he was doing, sweat dripping down his temples while stray hair stuck to his skin. you smiled at him, “um, if you don’t mind.. can i borrow your belt for a sec? i’m just on my last set of squats and i forgot mine at home.”

the man nodded, making a gesture to you that it was okay to use his belt. you quickly thanked him but before you decided to head back to the squat rack, he introduced himself as rindou, and you introduced yourself as well. warmth bloomed in your chest at a possible new found friend at the gym.

it was pretty hard to make friends at the gym since everyone was caught up in their own little world, you didn’t really mind it but you just wished you had some friends at the gym.

“oh, uh, i know this is probably asking for a lot.. but would you be okay spotting me? i totally get it if you’re busy!” you asked rindou, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the sudden question.

but, your embarrassment quickly faded away as he nodded, saying that he just finished his last set of deadlifts and could spare you a little time.

securely wrapping the belt around your waist, you positioned yourself against the bar, taking a deep inhale. “i’m going to place my hands here, okay?” rindou came close behind you, his muscled chest near your back. he was polite. usually when other people spotted you for squats, they wouldn’t even ask you if you were okay with their hands being so close to your chest.

you nodded, making eye contact with him through the mirror. rindou’s hands made its way just underneath your chest where your ribs ended. you felt warmth creeping up your cheeks and to your ears while he did that, internally panicking that someone as handsome as him was kind enough to spot you.

“ready when you are.” you felt his hot breath fan over your nape but you shrugged it away and nodded at him through the mirror again.

lifting the bar off the rack, rindou’s hands gripped your torso tighter to steady you from the weight of the bar and the plates. you sucked in a deep breath before lowering yourself into a squat and powering up into a standing position. rindou moved with you, squatting down as well to assist the whole motion of the exercise—throughout the whole set, he showered you with encouragement and praises which helped get you through the exercise.

“alright, last one. up!” you braced yourself for the final lift, feeling his hands tighten around you, trying to lift you back up.

after successfully executing the whole set, rindou casually reached his arm around to your front to snap the lifting belt off so you could breathe properly. the act surprised you but it also made your stomach practically do somersaults.

“wow, you did so good! feels like you didn’t even need me there. you did it like a champ!” you shied away from his constant praises, shaking your head and waving your hands to deny it.

“no, no! you definitely helped a lot, rindou. thank you kindly spotting me.. and for that belt release.” you bit your lip after saying the last few words. you swore your heart raced faster but you blamed it on the pre-workout, no way the man you just met was already making you melt. rindou raised a brow, the corner of his lip tugging up, “yeah? i can gladly do it again for you after your sets. just ask me.”

your jaw almost dropped at that. you felt your knees almost buckle at his response, not expecting the man to be so casual and brazen about it. rindou blamed it on his pre-workout for being this bold; he usually wouldn’t even go as far as to make conversation but with you, it just came out naturally.

“i mean.. as long as you don’t mind, i guess.” you let out a small chuckle, trying to hide the fact that you were absolutely losing your mind. rindou was definitely trying to woo you and you had no complaints about it whatsoever.

rindou mirrored your chuckle, “i’m very glad we’re on the same page here. it looks like there is something else to look forward to when i go to the gym, huh.”

you blinked at him, not knowing how to respond at his advances. rindou thought you were cute trying to wrack your brain for a response, the way your lips parted but no words came out.

“..i-i guess so.. um, thank you for letting me use your belt!” you awkwardly removed the lifting belt from around your waist and handed it over to him. he chuckled at your awkwardness but nonetheless, taking his belt back.

“guess i’ll see you around then? call me over if you need anymore help with any of your exercises.. or other things, doesn’t have to be gym related.” you smiled at him, shyly rubbing your nape. “i definitely will.. for both of those reasons.”

the two of you exchanged a few more words before going to your respective workout stations. a wide smile plastered on both your’s and rindou’s faces as you two resumed your workouts.

you had one more reason as to why you loved working out very early in the morning—it started with the letter ‘r’ and hopefully ended in something much more.

© mitsuyeaah

[laulo821]

17 - Demon

[microposting]

macro/micro, all m/m, nsft, noncon, ownership, objectification

A man meets someone at a punk show with some unique (and unwilling) piercing jewelry.

He was a little embarrassed about it. Whole basement full of people in t-shirts, hoodies, jeans, cargo shorts, understated glasses, natural-color hair, normal, ordinary, perfectly attractive people, and here he was stealing glances at Mr. Hot Topic. Like a time traveler from 2005. Like a kid’s show’s idea of a punk rocker. But fuck if the eye shadow wasn’t doing something for him.

Bo leaned over to Mickey. “Billie Joe Armstrong over there,” he shouted. Might as well be whispering, the band was so loud. This was why he didn’t go to punk shows.

Mickey laughed. “Gerard Way over there?”

“Yeah, yeah, Pete Wentz over there. You know these people. He into dudes?”

He shrugged. “Fucking look at him. If he’s not bi, I’ll eat my socks.”

While the bands switched over, Bo approached him with a beer. He was sweaty from moshing, his dye-fried hair tussled, and very glad for the beverage. The guy was a few inches shorter than Bo, chubbier. His tattoos were numerous and seemed mostly DIY, and Bo was pretty sure he caught a glance of nipple piercing when his shirt settled just right.

“You’re pretty hardcore, man,” he opened. “No way you don’t have a band, right?”

He laughed. “Aw, I’m kind of in-between right now. Why, you trying to start something?”

“Well, I wanna start something .” Bo rose his brows.

He looked him up and down and licked his lips. “Teddy,” he said.

“Bo.” 

They shook hands.

The shed in the backyard was unlocked. Bo slammed him against one decaying wood wall, between a scrap metal shelf and a lawnmower, and a shower of dust rained on them. Tongues in mouths immediately. Fuck yes, a tongue piercing. The next band was starting up, he could hear them muffled through the wall. Grimy, throbbing, loud. That would make a nice soundtrack.

Against his tongue, something… moved? Did Teddy’s tongue piercing just move?

Bo pulled back. It was way too dark in here to see anything but the outlines of his face. The slightest shadow betrayed his frown. “Um, I think your piercing, um-”

“Oh!” He laughed. “Fuck, sorry, I forgot. Hold on.” Teddy took his phone out and shone the flashlight into his mouth. 

“Oh, shit!”

There was a guy in there. In his tongue. Some sort of plate encircled his chest, keeping him in place. His arms were spread out over the tongue’s surface. Couldn’t have been taller than an inch. Teddy flipped his tongue up to show off his little legs, kicking frantically. He was nude, except for the hardware. 

Teddy flicked off his phone light and Bo stuttered weakly. He wanted a better look, he wanted to figure out that mechanics of that whole thing. Was it clamped on? Screwed? Who agreed to do that? Why was there a tiny guy? 

“Bandmate,” Teddy said, as if that explained anything. “That’s why we broke up. There was some weird electrical incident during practice while I was on a smoke break. I like to keep an eye on ‘em.”

“And they’re cool with that?”

He cackled. “Absolutely not!”

Bo slipped his hand up Teddy’s shirt. His “nipple piercings” were soft and warm and wiggled at his touch. It felt like these two were strapped lengthwise along barbells. Cuffed at the wrists and ankles, maybe?

“Here’s a fun game,” Teddy said. “See if you can make them all come.”

“And what’s the prize?”

“I’ll suck your fucking dick, Bo, obviously.”

He smiled. That was fair.

Kissing first, then. Bo lapped at the tiny man’s chest. He imagined him sputtering and shouting. Couldn’t actually hear anything over the music. Of course, it didn’t take much to drown out a voice that small.

He paused. “Who is he, anyways?”

“Rich. He was tryna get us to call him Dragon, though. Drummer.”

“He’s in your mouth, and he’s not the vocalist?”

Teddy laughed. “You’ll get there.”

His tongue returned and slipped down underneath. The man tried to kick his legs against him to keep his tongue away just a little bit longer, so Bo twisted it vertically and slid in between. He pressed up hard and dragged back slow, rocked his tongue back and forth, grinded against him. If he really focused he could taste it… the musk, the sweat. He must be sweating nonstop in there, far more humid than any sauna. Bo flicked his tongue against the tiny sack. With the smallest bit of pressure, his tongue could press in and envelope his entire package. He wiggled it until he felt the whole body stiffen, and then the littlest hint of salt.

Bo pulled back. Saliva dribbled down his chin. “That was hot,” he panted.

“Don’t stop now,” Teddy teased back.

He pushed his shirt up and slicked his inner lip against Teddy’s solid, wrinkled nipple. His piercing strained against the contact. 

Teddy gasped and sighed. “That’s Al. Bassist. But I just call him lefty now.”

Bo could slide him out to one side. He kissed his lower half and felt the nub of his straining cock poking between his lips. Could just barely hear him yell… Not sure if it was a scream of pleasure or resistance, but both ideas were getting him hard. He was so little, he couldn’t even penetrate halfway through Bo’s pursed lips. Bo half-sucked half-kissed on him. The tiny man awkwardly tried to hump back and he smiled. “I think lefty’s liking this,” he muttered.

Teddy laughed. “Oh, are you being a good toy, Al? You being a sweetie?”

Bo smiled and gave his nipple another kiss. He tasted cum.

He wondered if they’d all wind up obedient and eager one day, like this one seemed to be becoming. Maybe it was just too overwhelming. The smell, the taste, the feeling of his flesh encircling them. They were almost part of his body. It had to be maddening. 

“Good boy,” Bo whispered. He heard a squeak in response. 

He brought his hand to Teddy’s right nipple. Righty had a lot more fight in him. Bo leaned in and brought his ear up. God, he was screaming, but he couldn’t begin to make it out. It sounded a bit more like desperate begging than anger, he thought. Bo spat on him and brought his ear back, right up to him, then pinched the piercing longways and wiggled him back and forth so the saliva worked its way between him and the interior of the nipple keeping him captive. His shouting devolved into humiliating, uncontrolled noises, and finally a long moan and quiet panting.

“Your vocalist’s got lungs,” Bo muttered.

Teddy laughed. “Nah, Grant was lead guitar.”

He frowned. “You’re vocalist?”

“Nope. Keyboard. Still gotta make the vocalist cum.”

Bo’s fingers trailed down to his belly button. Empty.

“C’mon, dude, you being dense?”

His eyebrows twitched. Oh. Duh. 

Bo reached down and slowly, carefully unzipped Teddy’s jeans. He tugged down his underwear, that smooth-textured mesh kind, and felt up his cock. On the short side, with a nice thickness and shockingly soft skin. And there on the very tip, one last tiny body. Prince Albert style, ankles and wrists cuffed together by a strict straight piece of metal, coated completely in pre. 

“Fuck,” Bo whispered. “Lemme see.”

“Go ahead.”

He got down on his haunches and turned on his phone flash. God, the little guy was soaked . Long hair flattened against him, thick liquid coating his whole body. He looked right into Bo’s eyes and even at his tiny, tiny size his expression was clear. Contempt. And exhaustion.

Bo took his sweet time looking at him. The erection must have been constricting him even further, what did that feel like? To be so directly at the mercy of another man’s libido? When Teddy came… when he pissed …

He leaned in and slowly licked up his shaft, taking his sweet, sweet time dragging the very tip of his tongue up the man’s body. Teddy moaned, and even more pre bubbled up around the man. He sputtered and gagged. 

“Frontman gets front stage,” Bo muttered.

“Now you’re getting it.”

He turned off his phone and stood back up. Before Teddy could argue, Bo pulled out his dick. With a hand, he carefully pressed their heads together. Fuck. God, fuck, it was incredible feeling the little man against him. The prisoner. He was like an insect compared to a of couple dudes fucking in a stranger’s garden shed.

Bo jacked them both off, tip to tip, the little piece of jewelry smashed in the center of them. “Jesus,” he hissed. “It’s so fucking hot, Teddy, they live in you.”

“It’s all I think about,” he panted. “He feels every twitch in my cock. They-they feel everything.”

“They should worship you.”

Teddy moaned and spurted over his hand, his cock, and no doubt half-drowned his prisoner. “Oh, fuck. Shit. Sorry, I─ Jesus, you got me hot.”

“Please suck me off,” he muttered.

“Yeah, dude. Yeah, yeah.” Teddy got down on his knees and licked up Bo’s shaft and oh god, he nearly forgot about the tiny in there. His arms fruitlessly fought off the tide of his flesh, and when Teddy took him in and pumped in and out he flailed to find any stability at all. “Are you jealous?” Teddy asked.

“God, yes.”

“You’d like some too, wouldn’t you?” He brought his tongue up and expertly slid the upper half of the little body down Bo’s slit. Oh, god, all those tiny movements suddenly dancing around inside of his cock.

Bo gasped and grabbed at his hair. “Yes!”

“I could… set up another accident. Maybe some of your friends. Or a hookup.”

“Please, please. Let’s be gods, Teddy.”

“You’d really be willing to do that? To another human being?”

“Yes!!” he squealed.

Teddy chuckled. “Good to know. I actually was thinking about a navel piercing.”

Bo froze. “Wait─” he muttered, but Teddy had already gone back to sucking him off, even more vigorously. He tried shoving him off and his hands faltered, his collar slipped over his shoulder, his pants slipped down. “Wait, Teddy─” he whimpered, and his voice was already so much smaller. Teddy bent over further and further down until he had to scoop Bo up, letting his shirt fall to the ground. Sitting in his hands, he was handheld. And the tongue, it was just so overwhelming. Bo couldn’t manage to get any sort of grip to push it off, just a helpless victim to its pressure. He came into Teddy’s wide-open mouth, assaulting him with awful humid air, and he could feel it, he could tell it could easily fit him in by now. Bo scrambled desperately away, but to where? There was palm on every side of him, and an awful fall past that.

Light blinded him and the surface he laid on tipped around as his new owner inspected him. “But maybe a scrotal piercing would be better… How ‘bout a trial run?” The light flicked off. His world turned and tumbled Bo went into a rapid free-fall. He hit some tense fabric, trampoline-like, and that shifted too until he was pressed up against bumpy, musky skin, squashed directly underneath his sack. “See how you like it, hardware,” Teddy called down. “Not like you’ll have much choice.”

[roosterforme]

Can we hear about how Bob and Molly decided to add another flower to Molly’s bouquet tat? Does she ever talk Coach Cute Glasses in to getting one?

Of course we can, Maddie! I love Bob and Molly and all of her birth month tattoos! I don't think Bob gets one though. I feel like he's similar to me in that he's terrified of needles.

One night, after Molly kissed Charlie goodnight, she stood in his berdoom doorway and watched Bob read him a stack of bedtime stories. This, like pretty much anything else Bob does, really turned her on. So she went to their room, swapped out her barbells for her Mrs. Floyd rings (because she knows Bob can't resist her nips with those in) and sat on the bed naked. When Bob walked in, he froze with a little smile on his face as she started pointing to the bouquet of flowers tattooed on her side.

"So Coach Cute Glasses, I've been thinking about this little spot right here. You see it? Kind of bugs me that there's room for one more flower."

Bob nodded and took a step closer. "I do see that. Would look good with another rose or maybe another violet there."

He started smiling as Molly stretched back on the bed. "The type of flower isn't so important, Cowboy Bob. Just that it gets filled in. Don't you think?" Then she whispered, "I'm pretty sure I'm ovulating."

Bob was in bed immediately. Flora was born nine months later.

The Bradley Bunch

[bluebird722]

Attack on Titan: Junior High Story Ideas

Everyone in Year 1 cheers on Sasha at every eating contest, but only Mikasa is indifferent and ponders how Sasha is able to eat all of that food without getting a stomachache or gaining weight.

One student receives a Ninento Wii game as a birthday present, but the party turns into an endless competition between Mikasa and Annie at every available game. (Eren, on the other hand, doesn’t care; Wii did not have a simulation where the user could pretend to fight Titans.)

One time, Connie falls asleep in class and leaves a puddle of drool on his desk. Needless to say, Levi whacks and chases him all the way home (after the former rushes into the classroom, of course, and cleans it up).

With Marco’s help, Jean tries to film a documentary called “The Bachelor”, about his pursuit of and (attempts to) date girls in school. It does not go as planned.

At some point, Bertold accidentally kicks a student in the face because he is started out of his sleep and therefore his odd sleeping position. He ends up having to buy the student lunch to avoid being reported to Mr. Keith.

When Petra has a bad day, Eld and Gunther cheer her up by constructing a handmade pinata of Oluo’s face (with his tongue bleeding out) for them to whack until Oluo and the first years arrive. Sometimes the others ask what’s with the confetti and candy wrappers on the ground.

Sometimes Rico likes to improvise ODM gear as a swing on a tree branch when she wants to enjoy a warm day.

Partially to impress Christa, Reiner proves his strength by lifting classmates over his head like a barbell while standing, but Ymir sneaks heavy weights into the pockets of her uniform to humiliate him. Reiner almost pulls a muscle, and Ymir says to herself, “My work is done.”

Armin is almost kicked out of the school play because of his futon, which certainly does not fit into the storyline. Therefore, all the Year 1 students show up to the recital wearing their most childish blankets and futons as headwraps, like capes, or even improvised dresses.

Hange pays Annie to be the “translator” between the captive Titans and, as Eren and his friends joke, the “new definition to the term ‘mad scientist’” (who is already going further broke). Annie pretends that she is not as fluent as Hange would have liked, but she will sneak their favorite snacks and tries to plot a way for them to escape and chase Hange to the ends of the planet.

No student will ever forget that Mr. Hannes was once so intoxicated that he tried to kiss Erwin on the cheek. Fortunately, Ilse’s story claims that Hannes was teasing Erwin for being so serious.

Ymir blackmails Reiner to stay away from Christa by threatening to show a video she filmed of Reiner gushing over his newborn cousin, Gabi.

After Hitch complains about how Annie looks when she sleeps, Annie gets back at her by surprising Hitch with a room full of fluffy kittens, only to have Marco broadcast Hitch acting silly to the entire student body and Marlowe provide humiliating commentary.

For the school talent show, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Sasha, and Connie form a band called “Attack on Titan” to commemorate their victory over their gigantic peers. Only after the band No Name discontinues (due to graduation) do they become victorious.

As part of a fundraiser, Eren and the rest of Year 1 craft together two handmade manga series called “Attack on Titan” and “Attack on Titan: Junior High”, the latter based on their own experiences.

[enbymaxwellpuckett]

ed going to his friends/family about gender and how that goes

Isabel: isabel is so very much Content With Her Gender that the intent sort of flies over her head and they end up both having more questions than answers. she ends up dragging them into a play wrestling session in the yard and they both forget what they were even talking about.

Isaac: isaac actually gives some surprisingly sage advice and then immediately gets flustered and embarassed when ed points that out. ed proceeds to prod him about how much thought hes given this and he admits that hes been thinking about it on and off since he watched Ouran Highschool Host Club when he was ten.

Max: max seems like he'd give good advice but just makes a vague quip about it and shrugs. regardless of whether he'd continue whatever he was saying or not ed has already gotten distracted by all the weird stuff on the corner store's shelves so its a moot point.

Johnny: they figure johnny might have some good advice since he's one of the ones who initially sparked this whole debacle but when johnny learns about his accidental egg cracking he decides to make this a whole group activity and the jang gets involved and this ends with them tormenting mr. garcia somehow. mr. garcia doesnt have any advice about this either.

RJ: they are lowkey ecstatic to learn they have a sibling in arms on the gender front, but it's hard to communicate when theyve sworn a vow of silence. they end up using one of the chalkboards after class to talk about it and its going pretty well, but ed gets a little distracted drawing a weird spirit he just saw on the bored. soon both are distracted and start doodling and get in trouble for it because at some point rj decided it would be funny to draw a butt in permanent marker on there and also because ed snuck into detention to do this.

Grandpa Guerra: they try to bring it up but francisco just asks them if they remembered to do the dishes and ed says "no" and francisco rolls his eyes and scowls and tells ed to go do the dishes and eds like "okay" and nothing productive is gained from the conversation.

Mina: they try. they really try. because she really does seem like she has a good grasp on this. they stand there and watch her tend to the latest injuries in the dojo and wait their turn to talk but the minute she turns around and tries to ask what they want they panic and say something stupid and bolt because shes kind of intimidating quite frankly.

Mr. Spender: ed really considers it, but realizes they don't want gender advice from someone who wears driving gloves.

Muse: muse refuses to give any sort of gender advice until ed can lift a fifty pound barbell.

[lovebillyhargrove]

Wake me up when July is around

Chapter 17/? "Flammable"

***

"This fucking February is gonna stay for-fucking-ever and fucking everything's gonna be buried under this fucking snow," - Billy's muttering to himself, grunting with effort as he heaves another full shovel. He's done so much shoveling in the last few days, he thinks it can actually be his new life calling. If he ever gets tired of California's perpetual sunshine, he might move to Alaska and shovel snow there till the end of time.

Billy's made a couple of extra bucks this way, too - their neighbor to the right, old Mrs. Deville pays him to clean her walkway daily. Billy's kinda okay with her, she seems like a sweet old lady. He remembers, back in August, when their family first arrived in Hawkins, her garden was still full of blossoming rose bushes, and the smell they gave off was amazing.

What ?? He kinda liked the roses' scent, flooding the street. Is that a crime?

Hargrove has no idea who lives in the house to the left, it looks rundown and abandoned.

Winter and especially February in assfuck Indiana continue to constantly surprise him. Apart from usual snow, total absence of sunshine, sleet, slush, normal ice on the roads, hailstorms, freezing rains and horrible biting winds, resulting in black fucking ice - which still remains Billy's most vivid impression he'll keep in his memory for a loooong time -

Did he mention it getting dark at five fucking thirty?

Fucking icicles ?? - Billy never even knew words like that before, they weren't part of his fucking vocabulary!

It being slippery everywhere?

Frostbites? Irritating sniffles?

You name it. And what is more,

Snow starts falling every.

goddamn.

day now.

Billy was unaware of what snow shoveling even was before they moved here. He then was introduced to this exciting activity in December last year. Not that he minded it much, doing it only once in a while. But these days - when did he sign up for this shit - he has to shovel the driveway and other surfaces around the house much more often than he used to. He has to do it every day at home and during his shifts at Mr. Dailey's repair shop. Plus the nice Mrs. Deville's walkway. Billy has a feeling he's shoveling 24/fucking 7 now.

On the bright side, it can be considered as a workout, it's not that bad. Billy can swear, the muscles in his arms and torso, in fact, in his whole body, are becoming more and more defined with every passing day. Who needs barbells when nature's giving you the perfect exercise.

He looks fine as hell.

It's just that, apparently, he has also started talking to himself, like an old grumpy dude. Shoveling is monotonous as fuck.

He belongs in the loony bin.

Oh, one day Billy gets in a snow blizzard on the way home from the repair shop he works at. That's something else entirely.

There's a huge one raging in the north of the state, Hawkins is going to get only its faint echoes.

They turn out to be enough to disrupt the life of the entire town.

His boss insists that they close the shop early, before the snowstorm is supposed to hit, although Billy doesn't quite grasp what the big fucking deal is at first.

"Kid, go home. You and your car won't do shit in what's about to come."

Do I have to? I don't wanna

"Tomorrow you don't have a shift, right? I'm pretty sure we're gonna be closed."

When Billy's approaching Cherry Lane, the snowstorm overtakes him. It's only the beginning but

That's some truly devilish shit.

The wind is already very strong and is picking up its speed by the second. When Billy climbs out of the camaro, holding the door so it doesn't fly the fuck away, he can't even open his eyes properly because snow is getting blown into his face, not letting him see anything.

He has to literally fight his way to the entrance.

Later on the wind turns to be more severe, and the storm is even more intense. The whole house is shaking.

Fucking weather.

Max is excited, the shitbird. She peeks into Billy's room late in the evening with a frightened expression on her face, like she's in awe of what's happening outside.

"School's gonna be closed tomorrow."

"Says who?"

"It was in the news. They are expecting more than 6 inches of snow, and they won't be able to clean all the roads in time."

"Great. Now shut the damn door."

Max is lingering in the doorway

"Aren't you scared?"

"It's just snow and wind."

"Do you think it can blow our house away?"

Billy snorts

Would've been interesting

"No, Max. It's not that strong."

How old is she, for fuck's sake. What is this "Wizard of Oz" bullshit.

Max is still standing there.

"Go sleep. It's gonna be fine in the morning."

***

Max was right. Billy's munching on cornflakes and listening to the morning news. No school. There's at least eight inches of snow covering the roads.

Billy was right, too. The weather's good in the morning. The blizzard died down during the night, and Billy has three options now: to clean his room, do homework for next week or grab a fucking shovel.

Neil leaves him no options.

Chop chop, son. You know what to do.

When Billy steps out of the house

First, it's like his eyes get slashed.

It's too bright.

Second, when his eyesight more or less adjusts to all the light, Billy loses his breath for a second.

It's unbelievable.

Everything is covered with a white glistening blanket. The sky is the bluest blue, it's clear and cloudless and

The sun. After weeks of hiding behind the clouds

The sun is finally out.

The sharp pain in his eyes fades away, but he's squinting cause the sparkling snow, the radiant sun, the cerulean sky - it's too much, it still blurs his vision. There is no wind, it's quiet and peaceful. As if the nature has let all its rage out and has calmed itself down.

Wow.

It's .. magical.

Like, really.

The news people weren't kidding. It looks like all fucking eight inches. The temperature is around 29 F, and the snow hasn't started melting yet, but with this sunshine, it's gonna get warmer soon, which means the snow will get heavier.

There is no camaro standing in the driveway. There's a full-ass-size mockup model of his camaro made of snow. It looks cool. Means more work for Billy, but who cares. Neil parked his Buick in the garage yesterday. Of course.

Billy puts his face up to the sun. It feels warm, like he's seeing an old friend.

He gets a sudden idea - he can actually call his buddy in California right the fuck now, tell him about the snow. He tried calling him once a couple of weeks ago, but no-one answered. Billy has some change in the pockets, it won't buy him a long conversation, but he wants to hear his friend's voice, even if for a minute. He sticks the shovel in the snow heap and walks to the payphone. There is one a couple of blocks down.

Billy doesn't simply walk. He makes holes in the snow with his boots, every step it's like falling down a little, but the solid ground has got him, it doesn't let him fall any further.

Hargrove opens the phone booth door with difficulty cause of all the snow blocking it, picks the receiver up. He knows Nick's number by heart. The line beeps and his friend - Billy recognizes the voice in an instant - picks up

"Hello?"

"Hey, Nick."

"Hey .. oh my god. Holy shit, Billy ??"

"Yeah."

Billy has missed his past life so much, he's smiling and wants to cry and wants to be there, where his friend's voice is.

"Billy, it that you? You've disappeared off the face of the earth, why didn't you call?"

And before Hargrove can answer the question

"When are you coming back?"

"I was uh .. thinking, July?"

"But you wanted to hit the dust the moment you get your diploma?"

"Yeah I just .."

"Wait, did you find someone there?"

"No, fuck off! No, that's .."

That's an impossible notion

"Tell me the name!"

"Nick, it's not .. you know me, I'm not uh .. looking for anything like that. I just wanna save enough money before heading back, you know .. for my own place and shit."

"But you're crashing with me for the first couple of weeks, right? Till you're all settled?"

"That still on?"

"Of course."

Billy wants to cry even more.

"How are you and Kelly doing?"

"We've been great. Going to prom together."

Ah, yes. The prom. Being in a relationship means you get excited about stuff like that. Thank god it's not Billy's case.

"Good."

To be honest, he'd die to go to prom with his friends in San Diego. Get stinking drunk, get soaring high? Do something outrageously stupid?

"Kel's been asking about you, why you never call."

"Yeah it's like uhm .. new place and .. busy. You can't even imagine how much snow I've shoveled in the last few days. Like .. it's fucking everywhere. They cancelled school today because of it, can you believe it?"

Nick is laughing, bright and happy, and Billy wants to run, run, run there. Away from here.

"The fuck is this, man! Hey uh .." Nick's voice is getting more serious. "How are things with you and your dad?"

"It's fine. Yeah .. it's okay."

"Okay."

"Why are you at home? Aren't you supposed to be at school yourself?"

"Yeah .. Jack got sick, parents are at work, I'm babysitting. Fuck, I just need to make it till graduation, man."

Jack is Nick's little brother. He's three or something.

Nick isn't exactly doing good at school. Doesn't make him a lesser friend.

"Graduation is just around the corner. You'll make it, come on."

"Yeah."

"Hey I think we're gonna be disconnected. Was nice hearing your voice, man. I'll call again soon. Say hi to everyone from me."

"Just don't disappear completely, like maybe you can leave your phone number where I ca .."

Beep beep beep

Billy puts the receiver back and walks out of the phone booth. He's not in a hurry. He's walking slowly, eyes half closed from all the dazzle, the brilliance.

Billy's still keeping his face up, gentle winter sunrays caressing his skin.

He's smiling.

Summer's on the way.

***

Saturday night is Valentine's Day party at Andy's house. There's this special buzz in the air that's sending out a warning - it's gonna be wild and everyone is gonna get hammered tonight. Kids haven't had a party for ages, they've been staying at home with parents and siblings for two days straight cause of the blizzard, and tomorrow is still the weekend. It was a close call, with Andy's parents considering delaying their trip to visit friends due to the storm but thank heavens, gods have been merciful to the Hawkins youth. They let them have their fun, Andy's mom and dad leaving on Saturday early in the morning. Major roads have been cleaned by then, parents have a beast of a truck, and it's good that they are going south where there's less snow.

Billy arrives late.

After the shift he does some - yaay. - shoveling, he has shoveled the whole goddamn Cherry fucking Lane already, and then he takes his time in the shower and in front of the mirror. Billy decides on wearing dark grey jeans with a couple of rips on the thighs and a navy blue button down, just a teeny bit tight, it's a slim fit, hugging his biceps, waist and chest just right. Even though it's winter Hargrove leaves three buttons undone.

Fuck, does he look great. Like candy. As always, though. Billy's puffing his lips a bit, ogling his own reflection. He'd kiss himself on the sexy mouth if he could. He'd definitely totally fuck himself if he had an opportunity.

Billy is afraid Neil's gonna give him crap about something but, luckily, his dad's watching a baseball game and drinking beer, Susan is sitting close to him on the couch, flipping through cookery magazines - domestic fucking bliss - and Billy doesn't exactly notify anyone that he's leaving.

Maybe, once in a lifetime, Neil's pleased with all Billy's fucking shoveling. Maybe he just doesn't give a shit about his son tonight.

Either way, Billy gets dressed, goes out of his room, grabs the jacket, opens the front door quietly and is out of the house. He's walking towards his car that he has wisely parked down the street.

Like hell he is not going to that party.

He wants to see Harrington.

Remember?

A party means there's is a chance we are alone in a room, pretty boy. Just you and me.

When he gets to Andy's house, the night is already in full swing.

As soon as he opens the door,

Like a virgin

Comes blasting

Touched for the very first time

Like a virgin

When your heart beats next to mine

Billy also hears Roy's voice bellowing somewhere close "Pure fire! Whoo!"

He's drunkenly stumbling out of the kitchen in front of Billy

"Hey man, you got any vodka on you? I'm trying to carry out an experiment."

That guy is definitely a virgin.

"Nah." Billy moves past the funny dude. What has he got on his mind tonight.

It's Valentine's. Love is in the air. There are red heart shaped balloons floating around.

Everyone's drunk. Kissing couples are everywhere. Music's incredibly loud and setting the right mood.

You’re So Fine

And You’re Mine

Make Me Strong

Yeah You Make Me Bold

"Billyyy !! Finally, where have you beeeen?"

Jennifer's bright red lips are aiming for his mouth

but he turns his face away, getting kissed on the cheek instead.

God, she's plastered already.

For some reason Billy's not psyched about kissing her tonight.

He's got someone else on his mind. Billy's scanning the dancing crowd. There's a bubbling sensation in his belly and a weird feeling as if his lungs are drawn tight, not letting him take a breath with a full chest

His eyes

Searching searching searching

Where is he?

Harrington is in the living room, playing beer pong with the guys. He and Tommy are teamed up against Andy and Danny. The two teams are neck and neck, and whoever scores a victory, they're gonna win by a nose.

Steve's wearing dark blue jeans and a toffee brown light sweater. His hair is styled to perfection. He looks like expensive caramel that you wanna take in your mouth and suck on. Roll around with your tongue, listening to its gentle clickety-click on the teeth.

The pretty boy is busy. Alright.

There's a group of teens - mostly juniors and seniors whose hearts aren't taken by anyone in particular - playing "Cupid's Arrow" that's just like a Valentine's version of Spin the bottle. Billy's too old for that.

Besides, Jennifer is hanging on his arm.

"Babyyy, let's go dance!"

Hargrove grabs a can of beer, shotguns it cause he needs alcohol in his system, fast, and they get in the middle of the chaotically moving mish-mash.

***

After some dancing, drinking the second can of beer and getting handsy with his Valentine, Hargrove notices that King Steve has decided to join the rhythm-crazed crowd. He's not alone, of course, the red haired chick's following him everywhere. Are they like, official boyfriend and girlfriend now? Has Billy missed some gossip?

I don't know what you've got but it plays with my emotions

I want you so much

Darling I want to hold you near

Want to whisper sweet and tender in your ear

Well, it is Valentine's, so the music's all sentimental cheesy trash

Can't stand the thought of you with somebody else

Got to have your love got to have it all to myself

I say yeah yeah yeah yeah

Billy is smiling at Jennifer. It's not like he's already drunk, but the rush and the excitement are getting into his bloodstream. Also things got a bit more thrilling with Harrington dancing just a couple of feet away. Billy can't help it, it's like he's radio tuned onto him, his head starts whirring as soon as the asshole gets close

Want to be your lover lover

Want to be your lover lover lover boy

All of a sudden Billy feels someone's back fucking .. rubbing on his. It's like .. okay, the living room is packed and sometimes you touch a body, and a body touches you, but this .. this was done intentionally

Billy's turning his head slightly to see who's so cocky here, crossing the border, invading his space

He sees Harrington's caramel sweater right behind him. It looks like the dude's just dancing, all innocent and focused on his date.

It is crowded.

Too far gone it's hard to stop

Baby you're my dream in motion and I won't give up

Teasing me with your fire

The moment Hargrove thinks it's all in his mind, Steve's getting closer again and his shoulder blades are lined up with Billy's

He feels Harrington's heat

Which spreads all over Billy's body like wildfire

Fuck fuck FUCK

The fuck he's doing

Your're the one I desire

Got to have your tenderness all to myself

Hargrove remembers those couple of seconds when Steve was on the gym floor, and Billy was hovering over the guy, clutching his hand - that moment when he was twitching from head to toe as though he was being tasered

Is Harrington feeling it now too? Or is it only Billy?

The heat is gone, and then it's back again

Hargrove's between heaven and hell.

Want to be your lover lover lover boy

They keep dancing like that, backs touching occasionally. There's nothing weird about that, no-one's gonna pay any attention, the floor is a tight space.

I want to be your love

Gotta have your love

And I can't stand it

Who the fuck is responsible for the music tonight.

Oh no the dumb song's finishing, but the one that's coming up seems to be even worse

It's a ballad, so it means that they're gonna do a slow dance. Ugh, shit goddamnit. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to come to this party after all.

It's not fun, it's fucking torture. Billy is pulling Jennifer closer - guess it's walk the walk and talk the talk - and she's wrapping her arms around his neck, her tits pressed tight against his chest.

I gotta take a little time

A little time to think things over

Do they have to romantically look into each other's eyes for the whole damn dance? Bleh, Billy never liked the slow ones. Get drunk, let the energy out on the dance floor, suck face, get a release, done. Go home, sleep like a baby.

Through the clouds I see love shine

It keeps me warm as life grows colder

Thank god Jennifer is resting her head on Billy's shoulder now, he doesn't have to stare at her face anymore. He quickly looks around and

Sees Harrington and his new girl kissing.

Passionately.

There's another kind of fire whipping through Hargrove. It doesn't just burn, it turns everything black and toxic

Just like that, with a snap of the fingers, Billy's mood is ruined.

The song's getting worse.

I want to know what love is

I want you to show me

The crowd of wasted teenagers are chanting along

Christ al-fucking-mighty, when is it gonna finish

I wanna feel what love is

I know you can show me

Jennifer's hands are sliding over Billy's shoulders, down his back. All over his ass.

Okay, uh .. he needs a break. His dick is hard but it's not because he's getting felt up by the girl in his arms. He needs a breath of fresh air.

I've got nowhere left to hide

It looks like love has finally found me

"Honey, I'll be back in a second."

Bathroom break. Or something.

I wanna feel what love is, no, you just cannot hide

The words of the stupid song are chasing Billy as he's hurrying up the stairs.

***

He's in the bathroom, behind the closed door, looking at himself in the mirror.

What did you expect, huh? What exactly did you expect, fool? That you're gonna come to the party, and the moment you cross your eyes with his majesty, you're gonna go upstairs together and jump into bed?

Billy's scoffing at his naivety. He opens cold water, washes his face.

Life seldom gives you what you really want.

It's pointless. Him having any kind of expectations for this stupid party is ridiculous.

On his way out of the bathroom, Billy decides to sneak into a quiet room and have a smoke. Alone. A couple of rooms are locked, probably already occupied by horny couples, and there's one at the end of the hallway, that turns out to be open, dark, and empty. Perfect. It's Mr. Goldman's study, obviously. Billy's not gonna make a mess. He just wants to have some quiet time. He opens the window, finds an ashtray on the mahogany desk and lights up a cigarette.

He can still hear the music booming downstairs. The night is dark and the air, flowing through the open window, is nippy and sobering.

What does Billy want? To kiss King Steve again? What for? How many kissing sessions will be enough? Does he want to do something more with him? Is Harrington even up for it? He seems happy with his new girlfriend.

What more does Billy want? To touch Steve's dick? To suck his dick? How far is he willing to go? Billy's not even sure himself.

It all started with the itch, with the contempt, with the hostility. It transformed into this vague want, the want for what ?

It's not worth the trouble. Billy has nothing in this suburban town that he's having a remotely strong feeling about. No strings attached. Nothing to miss when he's gonna be driving away from here.

Let it stay this way.

Hargrove's finishing the cigarette. He needed this clarity.

He opens the door and bumps into Harrington who's loitering in the hallway. The hell he's doing here? Waiting in line for the bathroom? Waiting in line for a free room to get his hands up that girl's skirt?

Without any warning, Steve's grabbing Billy's hand, and dragging him back into the study, where it's still dark and empty and .. cold. Sobering. Harrington clicks the lock and Hargrove is suddenly pressed against the wall.

Lyrics of a song from downstairs are reverberating through the room. You can actually make out the words up here, Billy just zoned out completely when he was alone thinking

It wouldn’t hurt her if she didn’t know, cause

When it gets too much

I need to feel your touch

"Why didn't you call?"

The fuck Harrington wants?

Steve is looking at him like a lunatic

I'm gonna run to you

Billy's holding the frenzied gaze. One more second, and he's gonna push Harrington's away, put an end to whatever this is

"Didn't feel like it."

Steve's not saying anything anymore, he straight up tries kissing Billy's lips

He's wasted. The way he just goes for it, is unhinged

He smells like alcohol and lust

I’m gonna run to you

I’m gonna run to you

Cause when the feelin’s right I’m gonna run all night

Billy's dodging the kisses. Steve's hands are sliding up and down his abs

"Stop being a priss, Hargrove. Don't you wanna have a little fun?"

Harrington's voice is hoarse and so sexy

But you’re the one that always turns me on

You keep me comin' round

"Thanks, I don't want leftovers." Billy's standing like a rock, King Steve can't honeycomb or sweet talk him into anything tonight.

"What?" Harrington's whispering on an exhale

And a second later, almost mockingly, with a smirk

"Are you jealous ?"

Eyebrows raised high.

Billy's glaring at Harrington. He has just talked some sense into himself to keep all his unclear urges in check, why is this motherfucker making all his efforts go to waste?

What the fuck !??

Billy digs his fingers in that soft caramel sweater that wraps Harrington's slender figure so elegantly

Takes full fists of it

I’m gonna run to you

I’m gonna run to you

In a flash, it's Harrington whose back hits the wall, hard

He's wincing from the unexpected pain

"Listen, fuckhead. I don't know what your game is, but I don't like it. Stay the fuck away from me, I've had enough."

Hargrove articulates every word clearly, hoping that all of them will sink in King Steve's carefree brain.

Billy slams him against the wall again, just to get the message across, once and for all, then lets him go, unlocks the door and leaves Steve alone in the dark room

Run to you?

More like run from you.

***

The party is still raging but Billy's not in the mood for dancing anymore. He makes himself comfortable on the couch downstairs and lights another Marlboro. There are people around, and a minute later Jennifer finds him, sits close and asks for a cigarette.

Hargrove's throwing his head back and takes his time inhaling and exhaling the bitter smoke, watching it go up. It calms him down.

A couple of minutes later Harrington drops on the armchair standing near the couch, the red-haired girl sitting on his lap. They are making out, tongue and all, giggling stupid

Steve's kissing Nicole, hands gliding over her legs, but has his eyes fixed on Billy. The king is so drunk, he's not even subtle about it.

Billy's dick stirs in his jeans, and Jennifer's hand explicitly touches his thigh

"Let's go upstairs?"

Billy's suddenly tired. Physically. Of fucking everything. Maybe it's all the shoveling, taking its toll on him. He's exhausted and he wants out of here. It's time to go.

"I'll go get a beer."

Jennifer keeps Hargrove under surveillance as he's walking in the direction of the kitchen.

There, in the kitchen, a special kind of entertainment is about to unfold. A fire show, apparently. Roy is trying to ignite fucking punch. Like, literally. He's been calling it "fire" the whole evening, so at some point he decided it's okay to try to light it up. Tina is shouting

"Someone, get a fire extinguisher! He's gonna burn the house down!"

Some people are laughing, some are waiting for the whole bowl to go up in flames

Roy is sticking a torch lighter in the punch bowl, but nothing burns. He then opens a bottle of vodka and is pouring it into the mixture

"For the sake of science!"

"Stop freaking spiking it, Roy!" Someone's shouting and the guy stops, tries setting it on fire again.

The experiment fails. Of course. What a stupid ass.

Billy can't watch this clown.

"Dunston, you dumbass, it won't work. The drink will catch fire if it's minimum 40 per cent alcohol in volume. Pure vodka will burn, as will rum, absinthe or tequila. Or whiskey."

Billy grabs the half full bottle of vodka, finds two clean shot glasses and fills them up

"Hit the lights. Usually vodka burns a clear blue flame, but it's not too bright."

There's still enough light coming from the living room for everyone to see what's happening. Billy takes out his usual lighter, sets one shot on fire, then the second. He's right, the fire's not very strong, but there are two beautiful light blue rings on the kitchen table.

"Alright. On the count of three, cover the glass with your hand to extinguish the fire, and as soon as it's out, drink up, you got it?"

Roy's nodding.

"Won't it burn?"

"A little. I'm doing it with you, man."

"One, two, three, go!"

Hargrove puts his hand over the shot and then downs it in a flash. The vodka is hot, it goes down like molten glass

Roy's still standing there with his unsure hand over the second shot.

Fucking pussy.

"Seriously, Dunston?"

"I tried, dude, I almost did it, but it fucking burnt my palm!"

"Hold the glass."

Billy's putting his own hand over the flame

"Now drink!"

Roy's gulping it like a champ but then comes

"Owww !! I burnt my tongue! Fuck! It's hot! Or my throat! I don't know! It hurts !!"

Jesus fucking christ

What a town of pussies.

"Ow ow ow! Someone, call 911!"

"Are you out of your mind, Roy ?? We're all drunk here!" That's Tina again

No need to call 911.

Hargrove is taking Dunston by the shoulder

"Come one, man. I'm driving you to the hospital."

Roy's looking at him in disbelief.

"You would?"

Perfect excuse

For Billy to leave the party early.

They are passing Jennifer

"You know how you're getting home?"

"Yeah." She looks disappointed. Not Billy's problem.

They get outside, Roy's holding a hand over his mouth

"Oh my god, dude! Am I gonna get a third degree burn? Am I gonna get a tissue transplant?"

"Yeah, definitely. Shut up, Dunston. Get in the fucking car."

What a wuss, jesus. Hargrove starts the camaro and they get going.

"Where's the hospital?"

"Uh .. on Main Street? Like .. ten minutes from here. Ow."

Billy turns the cassette player on. "Seek and destroy" by Metallica starts playing.

He just wants to get home.

After about five minutes Roy looks at Billy like a puppy and says faint-heartedly

"Uhm .. Hargrove? I'm actually uh .. feeling much better, bro."

What the fuck?

"Don't fucking bro me."

"Huh?"

Billy's considering stopping the car and kicking Roy's ass out, leaving him on the side of the road

"Can we just drive back to Andy's?"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Dunston?"

Billy's taking a deep breath.

Sure. I'll drive you back. Only because it works out for me, buddy.

It's actually great. Much better than going all the way to the fucking hospital. He'll get home quicker and he'll still bail the party.

Billy's turning the camaro around, the back of the car drifts into a huge pile of snow. Roy's face turns sour

"Hey, asshat. Don't even think about puking in my car."

Roy is throwing a fearful glance at Billy

"Dude. I'm not an animal."

Billy drops Roy off and heads home. Jennifer must be pissed at him. Of course she is. He ditched the party, he didn't deliver, didn't bring her home.

Whatever.

***

Billy is stopping in Cherry Lane, but at a distance to their house. He's taking out a cigarette. The lighter clicks, and there's this distinct sound of tobacco crackling when the drag is especially deep and delicious. It's quiet, and he's not turning the music back on.

Is that disappointment? Hargrove was waiting for this party to get his hands on Harrington once again, and he had the chance, why the fuck did he say no?

He saw them kissing and, somehow, that was tonight's game changer.

Billy's fucking

Jealous ?

Steve asked him if he was. Mockingly. It was what, funny to him?

Is that what it is?

Billy's not jealous. It's not jealousy, it's just that .. it irks him, to see Harrington's arm coiled around some girl's waist, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth. It's ..

FUCK !! He hits the steering wheel, once, twice, three times, grabs it so tight, his knuckles hurt

What the fuck is happening? He doesn't want any of that. God, why .. the moment Billy thinks he's in control, something reminds him that's he is, in fact, not.

What a bunch of bullshit.

***

***

Looks like while all senior students of Hawkins high were having fun on Valentine's Day, Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers had something else going on.

It's Barb's funeral on Wednesday.

On Monday Steve gets up and gets down for breakfast to find his mom listening to the morning news.

" .. Ms. Holland's almost decomposed body was found in the woods more than half a year after her vanishing. The police haven't closed the case yet, but despite the major breakthrough, there is, unfortunately, no accurate information about what happened in June 1984.Theories have emerged among Hawkins citizens that this gruesome death could be connected with a leak of toxic substances from Hawkins laboratory, but the laboratory management and city authorities call such rumours unfounded and causing unreasonable panic. The police are leaning towards the version of a wild animal attack, however, the circumstances still remain unclear. Barbara Holland's funeral will take place on Wednesday, February 19th."

Thank god his mom is at home right now. Steve feels an unpleasant chill running down his back and fear beginning to stir inside him.

"Honey, are you going to go?"

"Yes, mom. I think I should."

At school Steve finds his ex-girlfriend who he hasn't talked to in ages.

"Hey uh .. Barb's funeral?"

"Are you going to come?"

"Yeah .. yeah of course."

He didn't know the girl well, just .. really, just her name. But he's connected to the whole story, he feels like he needs to do it.

Steve also has the right to know what went down. Since he's actually in on the supernatural stuff going on in Hawkins.

"Do you want to tell me more about it?"

"I can. But not right here. Meet me and Jonathan after school?"

"Yeah."

Tommy sees them talking and looks at him strange.

Hagan wants to catch up after classes, dish about the party and this and that, but Steve tells him he needs to take some notes from Nancy, so no. Steve suspects Tommy is feeling a lie in his words but there won't be any open confrontation this time.

"I'll drop by your place later, alright?"

Tommy's fine with that.

"Sure."

Nicole isn't talking to him cause, as far as Steve remembers, she's pissed at him for flirting with Tammy Thompson at the party. He may be guilty as charged. By the end of it, he got drunk to the point of unconsciousness and passed out on Andy's couch.

Bummer.

***

Steve later learns that Nancy and Jonathan - with Hopper's and Mrs. Byers' help, apparently, - found Barb's body in the Upside Down.

What's Upside Down?

Lucky you, if you don't know. Cause Steve does now, and the knowledge doesn't make him any happier.

Nancy seems more at peace. Like she's finally found closure.

"I've uh .. actually wanted to ask .. Who else knows about this thing? This whole thing? The other dimension and the monsters?"

"Just us and .. some kids, but that's it."

Us, okay.

"Wait, you said, kids ??"

"Yes, Steve."

It's a highly confidential matter, and some frigging kids know about it?

It all started with Will, Jonathan's brother because he was kept in the Upside Down for a week. Mike, Nancy's brother, knows it cause he's Will's best friend. A couple of more of their friends as well, because they are very tight, it's like their gang or something, and they all helped free Mike from the Demogorgon.

"Demogorgon, that monster ..? Are there others?"

No-one knows, they hope not, but they aren't sure. Can never be sure with supernatural stuff like that.

Steve gets it. Later during the day he visits Tommy, they stay in his room talking and Harrington feels a bit normal again.

On Wednesday, a quiet grey day, he attends the funeral. There aren't many people.

A couple of girls from school that used to be Barb's friends. Inconsolable parents. Chief Hopper and Joyce Byers. Nancy and Jonathan. Mrs. Wheeler and some Hawkins moms that are friends of family. The priest, Mr. Jones.

Steve's been at funerals before, when his grandparents passed away. He was little at that time, and didn't understand much.

He's never been at a funeral of a person his age.

It feels wrong.

Abnormal. Like something went very wrong in the way the world is supposed to work.

There are some unpleasant looking people Steve has never seen before. They are all dressed in black, and they all look like they don't have a heart. These ones are definitely from the government. Steve hopes he'll never see them again.

He's been doing so good lately, but of course, all of this is having its impact on him.

They are all prey.

Life and death, they walk hand in hand. You never know what's waiting for you around the corner. It's terrifying.

***

It's Friday evening. The week has been a lot. Having looked into death's ugly face, Steve wants to feel alive.

Steve could call Nicole, but she's angry at him. He doesn't want to apologize for nothing and listen to her mindless chatter.

He could meet up with Tommy but he can't share with his best friend the stuff he wants to. He can't talk with anyone about what happened, except for the people who are already in on the whole secret. Half of these people are, apparently, kids whose existence Steve has a very vague idea of, his ex-girlfriend, who has a new boyfriend, and Harrington doesn't have any desire to see either of them.

Hopper and Mrs. Byers are adults.

He knows who might make him feel good again, give him that special thrill. Like a jolt of electricity. Like a pull, to bring him back to the surface.

Seeing Hargrove doesn't require a conversation. They've only exchanged not more than a hundred phrases in total in what .. half a year? For the most part, they were insults and names. The closest the boys were to having a usual talk was at Christmas, and it was super brief anyway.

Steve doesn't need to talk with him.

What he wants is to be close to him, for a moment.

Some inexplicable strength and .. integrity emanate from Hargrove. When Steve's in his vicinity, it flows over him, like a tide. His broad shoulders, wide palms, the strong bull-like neck. Steve wants to bury his face in his neck and just breathe. Breathe in his scent. Feed on his energy.

They don’t need to talk for this and, if you come to think of it, there’s nothing for them to have a conversation about, really. Hargrove is not his friend. He's just a passerby, stopping in Steve's town for a year and then probably leaving in an unknown direction.

***

It's already late, and most likely, Mr. Dailey's garage is gonna be closing soon. Steve can ask about uhm .. Hargrove's shifts. Old man won't get suspicious or anything, Steve will just say that uh .. he was impressed with Billy's work and wanted to bring his friend's car for a check. Something like that.

Harrington goes to the repair shop. As he's driving closer, he spots Hargrove's Camaro, parked outside. Steve's not nervous, not at all. Just didn't expect Billy to actually be there. Maybe that's luck. Steve reaches for the glove compartment and takes something from there.

He gets out of his car, walks up to the open door. His heart is beating faster than usual.

"Hello? Mr. Dailey?"

Hargrove is crouching near the wheel of an old dodge pick-up. There's also a ford escort standing nearby. Steve leans on it.

Billy's standing up slowly.

"I'm closing up. Mr. Dailey went home."

"Oh. Hey. He trusts you that much?"

"You wanted to talk to him?"

"No. I mean, yes."

Billy's getting hot under Harrington's stare.

"What do you want?"

"I was thinking .. my car needs an oil change."

Harrington probably doesn't know anything about cars beyond having its oil changed regularly. However, it seems he has no idea how often if should be done.

He's such a dumbass, he's so pretty, it's infuriating.

Standing there in his unzipped jacket, hands in pockets, hair all slicked back in waves. Looking too clean, too neat, a fucking rich pampered baby. Billy's wearing his coveralls, he smells like machine oil, a grease monkey

"You don't need a change. I did it like two weeks ago."

"I know."

Billy looks Steve straight in the eye, and Harrington stops blinking.

"So what do you want, Harrington?"

Steve's gaze rakes over Billy's face and stops at his lips

"You know what I want."

Fucking hell. Billy's blood runs cold. And then, a second later, it runs fucking hot, like fiery lava.

Those lips drawing him in

Like a vortex

Harrington took him by surprise, Billy wasn't prepared to see him here

He's taken off guard. That's why

He fucking hopelessly wants to kiss the lips.

Why is he so weak for this bitch?

He's also absolutely not ready for this. Like this. Out in the open, he's not drunk, he's not initiating it. Harrington's taking the reigns, and Billy's knees wobble.

He came all the way down here for this.

Drove across town for this.

Billy turns around, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth, goes to his jacket, hanging on a peg, and takes out a joint.

"Wanna split?"

"Sure."

"Can't smoke in here."

"My car? I forgot to turn the engine off, it's uh .. warm in there?"

You forgot to turn the engine off, who does that.

They get in the backseat of Steve's beamer. It feels weird. Billy's fingers are shaking when he's lighting the joint.

Like a virgin

Touched for the very first time

He passes it to Harrington and their fingers brush lightly

His whole body jerks.

"I told you to stay away from me."

"When?" Steve throws his head back a little, taking a drag, holding the blunt with his long delicate fingers

Billy's watching his Adam's apple go up and down. He wants to know how it'll move under his lips, under his tongue

"Valentine's?"

"I uh .. I think I drank too much that night. Couldn't remember much in the morning."

That kinda explains his visit.

"Why should I stay away from you?"

There's a faint smile on Harrington's lips

Billy doesn't answer.

He's at a crossroads. He's inhaling the bittersweet smoke.

Hargrove can once again tell Steve to fuck off. Bust his nose if he's gonna be dense about it.

Or he can see how far he, Billy, is willing to go.

Their fingers keep grazing when they pass each other the joint, and Billy's heart keeps on pumping blood into his dick. His abdomen aches.

It's almost finished, Billy takes the last drag, and then one more, burning his finger pads, cracks the door open to throw what's left of it on the ground and the moment he's closing the door and turning to Harrington

Steve throws himself at Billy

Their teeth clash

And they don't kiss first

They bite.

It's becoming gentler, both of them close their eyes, the kisses are deeper, the hands are braver

How far is Billy willing to go?

Harrington's hands are all over his body

Feeling, squeezing

Steve lets out the most pathetic whine

And Billy's putting his palm on Harrington's crotch

He is so fucking hard.

He needs him under.

Hargrove grabs Steve by the shoulders and now it's Billy who's pressing him into the seat. Of course, it's cramped, of course, it's uncomfortable, but neither of them gives a fuck because both

Are burning.

Billy unbuckles the belt and unbuttons Steve's pants - just like in his dream, just like he's been imagining it. He slides the zipper down and Harrington is bucking his thighs up, trying to bring his pants down a bit

Hargrove's impatient. He gets his hand into Steve's underwear

Like he wanted to

Into the heat

Oh my god

Into the slightly sweaty hairy heat

Billy's feeling dizzy, he has no control whatsoever - what fucking control, he has none

He's spinning on ice

The last coherent thought that's flashing through his mind is

He's making a mistake. That's for sure.

Yet the chemical reaction has been set in motion and Billy's about to catch blaze.

He suddenly stops but Steve looks at him with those pools of darkness, whispers

"Come on .."

And Billy .. he gives in, completely.

He is slowly, gently, taking the other boy's hard dick in his hand, making the sensation register in his mind

Then grips it tight, and gentle caress yields to confident roughness

He's holding Steve's dick

Like his own when he's jerking off.

It's fucking cramped, but it's also so hot, in the backseat of King Steve's car

Billy's moving his hand up and down, relentless and quick, and his lips find Steve's again

They are kissing, kissing so wild, sucking on each other's tongues,

A mix of their smells. Perfumes, machine oil, cigarettes, weed, mint gum, sweat ..

Billy wants to crush him under his weight

And Harrington doesn't seem to mind, oh no, the guy is a needy bitch, because he's pulling, pulling him down, on top of himself, like he wants Hargrove to cover him whole

The warmth of Steve's dick, the wetness, the absolutely deranging tenderness of skin

It's all ..

Oh god

Billy's trying to give himself some friction with his right hand

And, really, they both don't need a lot of time

He could count the minutes by the fingers of one hand only. Or even seconds. He's not sure

He feels Harrington's body twitch and shudder, his moans getting stuck in his throat

He stops kissing Billy, throws his head back and Hargrove gets to stare at the dancing Adam's apple again

Billy's palm is covered in Harrington's hot cum, and that sensation pushes him down the cliff

His own body jerks uncontrollably

And it's .. it's quick and

It's over, and Hargrove's backing up, wiping his hand on the coveralls, opening the door because he needs air

He sees a pack of Parliament on the front passenger's seat and he's reaching for it, taking a cigarette out, he needs to give his fingers sometimes to do, they are back to shaking

And Billy fucking hates it,

Since when did he become such a trembling pile of jello?

"Give me one."

Billy's not sure how to look at Steve's face again.

Like a virgin

He does, look. He's not a coward. He gives him a cigarette and even clicks the lighter for him, regretting it immediately because Steve looks

Fucking royal. Like Billy's just serviced the King.

Reclining in the seat, so relaxed, so .. so fucking pretty, with the puffy bruised lips

With hair a mess and zipper still down, and black underwear on display

FUUUUCK

"Hey, do you still have my number?"

Billy's shrugging his wide shoulders like he can't really remember, like it's not important

"No, I don't think so."

They smoke in silence.

They get out of the car, first Billy, then Steve.

Harrington is zipping up and closing the belt. Billy slams the door of the beamer

"What did you do with the note?"

"I put it in my fucking secret journal where I write poems and keep wilted flowers and shit, Harrington. How the fuck should I know? I don't keep trash. Probably threw it away."

Harrington purses his lips. Looks a bit offended.

It's fucking awkward.

Billy heads inside the garage. He's not gonna say bye or any stupid shit like that. In the garage he gets down on one knee, the front of his underwear wet and sticky, starts putting the tools away. He hopes Steve's gonna go now, and he's relieved to hear the sound of the beamer taking off.

***

Billy needs to change his clothes, close the place up, check the lights and stuff. He's not gonna think of anything now. He's not gonna think of anything ever. He's still fucking blushing, cheeks running feverish

Like a virgin

He still thinks it was a mistake. A delicious, much wanted mistake.

Billy goes into the back room, undresses, takes off the underwear and wipes his belly and pubes with it. Puts his usual clothes on, jeans feeling cold on his naked ass and balls. Grabs the dirty boxer briefs, turns the lights in the room off.

Heads for the door, takes the jacket off the peg, stuffs the underwear in its pocket. Looks around to check if everything's okay, hits the light switch, locks the place up. Normally his boss is the last one to leave but tonight his wife called him home earlier, some family stuff, Billy didn't pry.

***

When Billy's back home, he takes the jacket to his room. He closes the door, digs into the jacket pocket, pulls out the underwear and together with it, a piece of paper falls out. Billy tosses the briefs on his bedside table and picks up

A note.

Déjà vu.

A phone number in black ink

And

FUCKING CALL ME

In capital letters now.

Billy's scoff is full of contempt

He's sitting down on his bed, holding the paper

Again? Steve has done the same move with the note, again ??

What a stupid dork. Lame game, amigo

When did he even find time to slide it into Billy's jacket?

Fucking sneaky asshole

If it's so lame, why is it working?

Cause look at Billy smiling.

The second time this week, no less.

Stupid Harrington. The motherfucker is even kinda .. cute. Sometimes.

Oh my fucking god.

A spoiled rich boy who's sexy, mean, pretty and .. fucking cute now. And never leaving Billy's mind. Despite all his attempts to keep a clear mind about it.

Harrington shows up and leaves a mess.

It's a problem.

What's worse, it looks like the problem isn't going away, isn't resolving itself. It's taking even deeper roots.

So many things in goddamnforsaken Hawkins that Billy's never had the experience of dealing with.

Like jerking off King Steve in the backseat of his beamer.

He's not gonna think about ramifications of his actions.

Shower and sleep.

Hargrove cums again in the shower recalling tonight's sensations. It wasn't enough, he doesn't feel satisfied. In fact, he's feeling hornier than ever.

[mrhaitch]

how much can you bench, mr. haitch

Before my injury - 70kg with a barbell is my record. I probably could've pushed it to 80 but it wouldn't have been safe. I've always had a knack for pushing myself physically, but that's how I wound up tearing my abs.

Since my injury I'm at around 50, and taking it slow.

With that said, I'm trying to avoid working with too high a weight for the next three months - focusing instead on building a strong base with good stability, using machines which limits how much the stress of the weight is distributed to other muscles (when using weights over 20kg) for strength training. I switch to free weights at a lower volume once a week to focus on developing stability, as well as longer rowing machine sessions.