#fucking tell me this until today my mom mentioned it. so now how am i supposed to get a job before school starts.

[a-b-riddle]

Not to make yall sad, but I was so stressed over paying the remaining balance on the wedding and I had a panic attack.

I’ve just been paying it on my own up until this point, never asking for help and my fiancé paid for half of the venue. But all the little details and stuff, I handled.

Today it reached a peak, looking at the remaining balance, knowing I’m going to have to live with the bare essentials and eat at work or put it on my credit card (which sent me into a panic attack)

So I called him (I wasn’t home) and told him that I’m just so overwhelmed and idk how I’m gonna do it.

And he just says “you tell me what need I need to pay”. When I argued it was too much he argued back that he has savings. He has a credit card.

I cried. Feeling like a failure for having to ask him for help. I hate asking for money. When my dad blocked my mom, I had to ask for child support anytime I saw him which ended up making me feel like such a burden.

Now I’m marrying a man who just says “tell me what you need, tell me what I need to do” and he just does it. When I went to explain the cost breakdown and why we needed what, he stopped me. Told me I don’t need to justify it. He doesn’t need to know what it’s for.

I have always had a hard time asking for help. Allowing myself to drown before asking for any help. And when at the mention of feeling overwhelmed, I have a partner who is all in.

I know it’s stupid not feeling able to ask my fiancé for financial contribution for our wedding but I have this mindset of “I picked out the DJ I pay for it” or “I wanted it so I gotta pay for it.” It’s silly but I had a dad who I felt so pressured by giving child support I would go over expenses for school supplies, clothes or other necessities.

I am so fucking blessed that my kids will never have that dad.

[gffa]

I saw your post defending the way Jedi adopt the children/accept them into their culture, and I absolutely loved it! It was so well-informed, and you are right: It is all there in the original content!

I find it very ironic that many people spew these lies about the Jedi when that’s exactly what the Empire did. Iirc, this argument of Jedi being “kidnappers” was actually fueled by Emperor Palpatine and the Empire in their campaign against the Jedi. They wanted to discredit them and make the people turn against them so that they could erase them all more easily. So I find it very ironic that these lies are now being upheld by some people as the truth. (Really, have people forgotten the Empire was created bases on the Nazi’s and their own racist strategies?)

You are not inmune to the Empire’s propaganda.

Please correct me if I’m wrong. I’m not as good at pulling examples and proof from all the SW content as you are.

Hi! Thank you for the very sweet ask! Navigating stuff in fandom like this can be difficult at times, because there has to be room for compassion and tolerance for disagreement, like it's fine if people disagree with my views, I'm not your mom, I'm not telling you want to do or say, especially since this is fiction, these are made up space stories. But there also has to be room to understand that sometimes our commentary on fictional stories are echoes of reflection of real world attitudes--we can't just go around spewing racist, sexist, homophobic commentary and be like, "It's just fiction, you can't get upset!" There's no easy line for any of this, no single hard set in stone rule for when it's truly just fiction and when it's an echo of a real world attitude, especially in Star Wars, which often draws influence from a lot of non-Western sources and traditional Western sources. (My general rule of thumb is: I think it's fair to criticize those things through the influences they have, but if your criticism is then ended with, "So that's why we shouldn't have or acknowledge any Buddhism/Black people/queer people/women in Star Wars!" then fuck right on off with that.) And I also understand a lot of the anti-Jedi attitudes (or at least what I've personally experienced of them) because I've talked a bunch of times about how I started out as pretty Jedi-critical myself! I did the whole, "They had grown stagnant and refused to evolve with the galaxy, so they needed to be wiped out." thing because nobody had framed it explicitly as what it was: a genocide. It wasn't until a friend and I were talking and they mentioned that lens of it that it just sort of crashed down on me, oh, that's literally what it was and genocide is never justifiable. I did the whole, "The Jedi failed Anakin and taught him to repress his emotions." thing as well, because I saw it all over the place in fandom and just automatically folded it into my view, until I went back and actually watched Lucas' movies and Lucas' animation (first six movies + first six seasons of TCW) and read his interviews, which blew me onto my ass when I saw Obi-Wan being supportive of Anakin, when I saw Anakin not listening to the advice he was given, when I saw that Jedi were expressing emotion all over the place, when I saw they were respecting other Force traditions in the galaxy. I can't speak to why so many people think badly of the Jedi, there's probably a thousand reasons and I'm only vaguely aware of like half of them, but I do think that it's often unpopular to promote the idea of emotional regulation already being achieved, instead of something to be struggled with. I think we're all primed by a lot of mainstream media saying that an explosion of anger is what will save the day. I think there's so much anger in the world today that we're all angry and being told to let go of it feels really insulting at times. (But, as someone who has lost years of my life when I was younger to anger, I gotta say, I am so much better off having let go of as much of that shit as I can. It was poison in my veins, carrying that anger around. I lost so many friendships and opportunities and just time to being miserably mad about stuff.)

I'm getting off topic of the kidnapping aspect about the Jedi, but a lot of it starts to swirl together in what I've experienced (especially people who try to put this stuff on my posts--thankfully, that's died down/I block the people who won't respect boundaries) and so I kind of bounce from one aspect of it to another.

I do think it's good to talk about these things--both from "it's fun to analyze the content of the story on a meta level" perspective and "here's how this echoes into and from the real world" perspective, like I enjoy saying, okay, here's what's actually said in the movies/TCW, but also I think talking about how the Jedi are Buddhist influenced is important because that means they're going to have values that are meant to be reflected in that and Western fandom has a really big problem of being derisive about non-Western influences or automatically saying they're wrong. (I come from anime/manga fandoms, let me tell you, it's a big problem.)

And, yeah, in a way where it's really awful, but I think one of the most well-done things Disney's Star Wars has done is that it's really focused on showing that the Empire was a fascist one and the propaganda they used about the Jedi are ones that are super relevant to the conversation.

[nihyunluvskookie]

His betrayal

Seungcheol one shot

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol × Fem reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Gun, breaking of glass, mention of betrayal, please let me know if I missed any warnings

Word count: 1.2K

Author’s Note: This was in draft and I don’t remember since when, but this was also impulsive. Hope you like this, mafia Seungcheol.

LIKE IMAGINE HIM SO HOT IN MAFIA AAHHHH

happy reading :)

Taglist (networks) : @kflixnet @caratwritersclub

I just had one aim right now and that was to kill him right now, with the gun he gave me which had my initials engraved. I wanted answers, I couldn’t care less about anything right now. I ignored everything and went to his office.

I slammed the door open, and he didn’t even look surprised, as if he was waiting for me to come; he still had that heartless cold face. “What are you doing here?” I ignored his question and held the gun tight. I pointed the gun at him, “WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO ME?”

“I told you to leave and never come back ever again.” I couldn’t take his words anymore, the way he hurt me a few hours ago, I was ready to leave in grief but then the moment everything became clear, his intentions, his dirty tricks, and the way he used me just to gain power and take down my family. I couldn’t care less how much I was broken right now but I needed answers and I wanted to end everything. I’m not going to take his orders anymore, the girl who was ready to take orders from him and leave was long gone.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME CHOI SEUNGCHEOL?” I never raised my voice at him.

“Put that gun down.” His orders weren’t going to work for me anymore.

“Tell me or else I’ll shoot you right now.” I wanted my tears to stop, but they weren’t. I wasn’t in my fucking right mind. How am I supposed to stay sane when he was my first for everything and he betrayed me just like that? How many times I told myself that I shouldn’t have trusted his words but I was the fool, who fell in love with him and trusted him with my everything.

“I’m telling you again, put that gun down.” His dominating voice was scaring me, making my body go through chills but I couldn’t back off. He could make me feel intimidated but not right now, I can’t let him make me feel that.

“Answer me or else I’ll shoot you!” I needed answers from him, why would he do this?

“Was none of these true?” tears threatening to fall again; I aimed at his window and pulled the trigger with all the force. The moment I heard the glasses break, I felt at peace.

“JESUS CHRIST, AZALEA PUT THAT GUN DOWN.”

“Not until you tell me everything, I will kill you and everyone today” I didn’t lie when I said that. I had my mind set, on shooting him first and not caring about any consequences, because I very well knew what his best friend would do to me if I hurt Seungcheol. Was everything a game to him? Was I a game to him?

As soon as I said, I heard footsteps approaching, “Are you okay?” I didn’t have to turn around to feel guns pointing at me and Jeonghan standing there as the head. One order from him and I’m done. “Don’t you dare to shoot. Leave, I’ve got her.”

The footsteps started disappearing and my grip got tighter around the gun; he was trying to take a step toward me, “Don’t take a step, or else I will shoot you Seungcheol. I’m not even scared of anything anymore. Not after you made a damn game out of me.”

“Azalea, calm down. Slowly, calm down.” No matter how much his voice tried to calm me down, but I wouldn’t; the rage flowing inside drove me insane. Everything turned upside down in a second.

The moment I found out his plotting, making me fall in love with him, manipulating me into telling him everything about my family and what is my dad up to, and he was going to destroy my whole family, take over the whole familia, and make our family go bankrupt, I’m not letting him hurt me and my family. I can’t see my mom and my sister crying because of this one asshole I fell in love with.

“It’s simple, tell me or else I kill you and kill myself right after that” I took a deep breath, “because you made a fool out of me” I closed my eyes to stop the tears remembering how I witnessed his conversation with my dad and then I felt a sudden force on my hands and the gun fell but before I could hold it, he caught the gun and twisted my hand. “I always told you never to be distracted when you set your mind on killing someone.” That’s when I knew I messed up. He pushed me towards a wall, still holding one of my hands, my back touching the cold wall of his office. He lifted my face using the gun, I was holding before; I wanted the tears to stop but the moment I felt him so close to me, it reminded me of the moments we spent together till today and everything turned out to be a lie, so that he could use me against my own family later.

He forced me to look at him, “Look at me”

“why would you do that!” I screamed in his face, I was hurt, I wasn’t okay, he had to know how much I hated myself for believing him and his lies, he had to know how much I regretted loving him and I wanted to hate him right now but the love I had for him could never compare. I didn’t want to break down infront of him but nothing was helping me out, not even the fully loaded gun forcing me to look at him. “I did this to save you princess” his voice was low; it was enough for me to listen.

“Shut up Choi Seungcheol. Shut the fuck up” my voice was the only thing I could hear right now, “WHY WOULD YOU MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE”

“Sweetheart, I told you not to fall in love with the demon” and he loosened the grip of his hand on my wrist, I wanted to hit him push him but I felt like I had no energy left after I was battling with myself

“Why would you do this Seungcheol….” I started hitting him with all the force I had “Why would you do this to me Cheol?!” he lowered his gun, and it fell on the floor. I broke down in his arms, gripping his shirt, where I was hitting him earlier. His arms wrapped around me, “It started as a lie but I thought I could let you go so that we could pretend none of this happened but this feels impossible. This was the only way to push you away, this world is not for you. There was a reason you were kept away from all of this princess.” My sobs were getting louder, I needed to cry and let it out.

“I started loving you so bad that it hurts so much why would you do this to me Seungcheol why” he was caressing my hair, “I love you Azalea”

“Why would you do this, why?! You know I can’t live without you and I won’t let you live today” I grabbed the gun before he had the chance. I pointed it towards his heart, “Shoot me. If you think I’m still lying.” I wasn’t going to believe him anymore.

“Stop it Seungcheol, I’m not believing you anymore, you lied to me, and you broke me to the extent that I can never trust anyone anymore.”

“Remember I love you and will love you but what you did to me was unforgivable.” And I pulled the trigger.

[rustboxstarr]

♥︎ This is 46 ♥︎

Being married and having kids isn't always as amazing as it sounds, making time for each together can prove to be quite fucking difficult but finally you get a chance.

Pairings: Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom! plus size reader

CW: Smut, P in V, Creampie, swearing, protected sex (contraseptives but not mentioned) be safe bro, smexy photos, illusions to masturbating at work, distance within relationship. R & Eddie have two daughters, mechanic! Eddie

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: Look who managed to get off their ass and write a fic (Only took fucking forever) hope ya'll like it. If you have any issues using my links the newer works will be under the tag #starrwrites and #starrthinks 🥰 would you like more adult, domestic, married and parents reader & Eddie? tell me :)

Love yas!

Check out my other works!

The morning sun mildly filtered through the curtains, shedding light in the room, it was harmonious, peaceful, calm.. until your husband's alarm rang out on the loudest volume signaling 7 am. You groaned as you awkwardly woke from your medicated sleep. Hair in a mess, residue of makeup from the day before and a drooping boob on full show from constantly turning in the middle of the night in your slip dress nightgown. You rubbed your eyes angrily and sloppily as you noticed the alarm was still ringing. Turning your head to the side you saw Eddie fast asleep, completely undisturbed. You lay a palm on his shoulder, nudging his body in an attempt to wake him. Unsuccessful. You nudged him harder this time. “Eddie” you spoke, trying to wake him. 

Eddie stirred in his sleep as his eyes slowly opened. “Hmm?” he hummed in question, he let out a loud groan as he turned and switched his alarm off. He rolled back around to face you as you were adjusting your nightgown. Eddie grinned “Sexy” he commented with a pump of his eyebrows. “Shut up” you joked as you once again rolled your eyes and took a sip of water from the glass on your bedside table. “C’mere” Eddie held his hand out signaling for you to snuggle up to him. You lay back down, adjusting yourself on your side as Eddie wrapped his arms around you, snuggling his head into the crook of your neck. “Good morning” you greeted with a yawn,  “Missed you last night” he hummed. “Yeah sorry, late night but atleast I get to go in at ten today” you said groggily. 

“Oh so you have some time then?” he smirked into your cheek. “Yeah.. why?” you asked, slightly suggestive, knowing where he was heading. In response, Eddie forced his hips along the mattress pressing up against you to make you aware of his stiff morning wood. “Oh well good morning to you too” you giggled. “Corny, really corny Y/L/N” he chuckled. “Hey, it's Munson remember” you grinned. 

“Well Mrs Munson, how would you feel about getting dicked down by Mr Munson before he heads off to work?” Eddie forced his hips against your ass again. “Corny, really corny Munson” you quoted back to him. A hand slunk back from its soft hold on Eddie's arm to pull at the hem of his boxers, signaling for him to take them off. 

“Exited are we?” he joked. “Hey you're the one with the hard on” you smirked as you could feel your husband rustling around behind you and then his bare cock pressing hard against the cheeks of your ass. Eddie's hand traveled down from your hips to hover by your mound. “Ooh no undies I see, naughty girl” he growled in your ear, earning a giggle from you. “Gross, don’t call me that this isnt some trashy porno you hide in your browser history” his head popped up beside you, as you craned your neck you saw his confused expression, eyebrows pulled together. “How do you know about those?”

“Well first of all I’m not an idiot, second” you whispered in a raspy dramatic voice “I know everything”

His hand slank to your thigh, tapping it for you to spread your legs, he then found his cock, leading it to your cunt, now on display from your parted legs. He forced his cock past your folds and straight to the goal, having no problem thanks to the slick that had gathered during the night. Your mouth may be dry from the propavan but your cunt surely wasn't. He groaned in your ear as he felt a powerful relief. Once he bottomed out his hand circled round your thigh and found your clit. As you let out a gasp from the sensation your leg dropped back down to a more comfortable position. 

“Fuck” Eddie breathed as he began slowly forcing his hips back and forth in a sensual pace. Matching his slow circles pressing into your clit. Your arm which previously waited patiently for Eddie wrapped around his neck and shoulders to slither into his bedhead of curls behind you. Eddie hummed at the sensation as he closed his eyes, focusing on forcing his hips back and forth. “God I missed this” you sighed as your own mess of hair rested against Eddie's forehead. “Me too” Eddie groaned as he quickened his pace. A slight moan escaped your lips as you arched your back, forcing your hips closer to his. 

“MOM!” a shout from downstairs made you jump in surprise. Eddie groaned in frustration. “MOM! Roxy ate the last poptart!” you could tell Ophelia, your eldest, was getting frustrated with her younger sister Roxette, she had a habit of screeching when her emotions were in overdrive and you were not about to handle a panic attack over poptarts at 7 in the morning. 

Eddie's hips stilled at the interruption, you groaned as you heard the 13 and 16 year old start to bicker in the kitchen. A shout of “MOM she's pulling my hair!!” from Ophelia had you groaning in annoyance and hurriedly get away from Eddie behind you. Stumbling as you got to the floor and pulled your nightgown up to hide your boobs. “I'm coming!” you shouted as you hurried out of the room to break up the fight. 

Eddie groaned in his spot on the bed and rolled over on his back. He adjusted himself to sit back in his boxers as he threw his head back against the pillows with a “FUCK!”

It had been a while since the two of you had been intimate, with two teenage kids who had their own issues and two full time jobs, finding time for each other was difficult, you had to treasure every moment you could spare. 

–

Your next opportunity to be close to Eddie came a few days later:

“Alright, better get up, I need a shower” you explained as you groggily lifted the bedsheets and padded across the floor to the bathroom. “Hey, maybe I can join you?” Eddie asked slightly hopeful, he had ten minutes before he had to rush and leave for work, you were dropping the kids off today but not for another 40 minutes. 

“Ooh” you hummed as you turned the doorknob. “That sounds nice” you smiled as you walked through the door. Once you made it past the threshold Eddie hurled himself out of the bed, stumbling over his work clothes on the floor and almost falling over. Stumbling into the bathroom he groaned as he saw your naked form in the bathroom littered with plants. 

“Fuck, you are so sexy” he hummed as he slid in behind you, pushing his hard cock against your ass, already awake with the excitement of a quickie in the shower. You hummed, pleased as you craned your neck to the side to let Eddie kiss at the soft skin. 

“Ok, come on I only have-” He checked the time on his watch “- 9 minutes before I have to leave” you giggled as he slapped your ass, gesturing you into the shower. You hurried in kicking your nightie along with your panties out of the direct firing range of splashing water, stepping into the shower and being quick to skip backwards away from the cold rush of water. You felt Eddie’s warm hands wrap around your waist as he walked you to the water. 

“Ok hurry big guy, you need to go soon” you reminded him. “Yes boss” he placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing on it slightly, guiding you to bend over and place your hands on the wall. “Get ready for the best fuck you’ve had in a while” Eddie joked, earning an eyeroll and a chuckle from you as you felt his tip push against your fold. “Fuuuuck” Eddie groaned as he slid in your wet cunt. A loud groan slipped from his lips as he bottomed out, “Eddie, shh the kids are downstairs”. He began thrusting slowly, hands gripping onto the fat of your hips as his head relaxed on his shoulders and rolled back. You hummed in pleasure at the slow pace as you loosened your body, letting go of a tense buildup in your muscles. 

“Wish we could do this more often” Eddie groaned as he began thrusting faster. You closed your eyes in pleasure at the feeling of him finally being inside you, sweet relief. With each thrust Eddie picked up the pace, rushing to find mostly his own release but also yours before the clock rang time to go loser. In a deep focus he hunched back over your frame, watching as you bobbed back and forth against the wall with the force of his hips. 

“Shit, 6 minutes” he complained as he began drilling faster. “Fuck fuck fuck I’m-” he began in a loud whisper, he jumped out of fright when he heard a knock at the door, he turned his head expectantly. “Dad! Your phones ringing!” Roxette shouted through the door. Eddie sighed annoyed as his head fell back on his shoulder, this time not out of pleasure. 

“I’m coming!” he pulled out of you as you straightened up and turned to face him. “I’m so sorry” he whispered as his hands found their rightful place on your hips. “It's ok” you whispered as your ringed hand caressed the side of his face, stubble coming in despite his shaving two days prior. Just as he was about to kiss you “Dad!” 

“I’m coming! I'm coming!” he shouted again, this time more annoyance laced his voice. A quick peck on the lips before he rushed out to wrap a towel around his waist. “Ah I’d love to hear that sentence under different circumstances” you teased as you returned back to your shower. Eddie grimaced annoyed and sheepish, because he too would like to be saying that sentence under different circumstances. 

You didn't bother getting out to lock the door when Eddie left but you heard Roxy on the other side of the door “Did you just shower with mom?” you could hear the grossed out expression in her face as she spoke. “No, shut up” Eddie said at the confrontation, you grinned to yourself. “Heyyy Zander! What can I do for you?” His voice faded as he spoke to his coworker and hurriedly dressed himself with the phone on speaker.

–

Days passed and you had hardly seen Eddie, both on different work schedules and you on the line for a promotion had been staying late at the office. Yet somehow the two of you had managed to drop the kids off and pick them up from school and have at least one parent cook and eat dinner with them. By the time you came home at night everybody would be tucked into their beds, well almost everyone, 11 pm Roxy was asleep when you checked on her but Ophelia was still wide awake scrolling her phone in bed. 

“Hi love” you smiled as you creeped into her room. Sleep Token playing on her google nest in a low volume while she read, she had told you she was reading independent amateur writing about fictional characters on some app you couldn't remember but you knew that scene slightly, pretty sure she wasn't reading wholesome stories about Hogwarts and Harry Potter. 

“Hi” she answered back as she sat up, putting her phone down. 

You talked to Ophi for a few minutes before heading to the bathroom with a “Goodnight, go to sleep soon” As you entered your bedroom you found that Eddie was in fact fast asleep, each time you came home the past week to find everyone asleep your heart broke a little at the fact that you couldn't be around them much, but soon that would be over and you would all be more comfortable with the flood of income. A promise of a trip somewhere had helped soothe Roxy when she wondered why you were never around much. 

Quietly you got changed and headed for the bathroom and got ready for bed. You slipped under the covers and relaxed on your side, back facing Eddie ready to sleep the day away and then suddenly a glimmer of hope. Eddie stirred in his sleep and rolled over to face your body. He groaned as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, but within a second he was fast asleep again. 

– 

By now enough was enough, you missed Eddie and he missed you. You couldn't be intimate other than kissing a little and hugging a little too long when no eyes were watching but you could at least have a little fun with him. 

Princess Y/N 💕: Don't open the picture around people

It was 1.30 in the afternoon and you'd finally gotten a second of peace to yourself, so you decided to spend it in the bathroom. 

Princess Y/N 💕: *Image*

A photo of you in your employee bathroom at work, multiple blouse buttons discarded as you stood against the mirror with your phone up, taking a picture of the reflection of you leaning forward, tits covered by a deep blood red bra, his favorite, prominent cleavage from your large figure which had blessed you with a large set of tits which Eddie adored. One hand cupping your breast, the other on your phone, half your face in the picture. 

As you button up your blouse again your phone dinged;

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: Holy fucking shit

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: You have time for a quick call???? im in the bathroom at work

Princess Y/N 💕: Sorry baby, i have a meeting in 5 and i have to get ready

Princess Y/N 💕: But enjoy the photo, love you, see you tonight

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: 😭😭😭

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: Love you too, so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Princess Y/N 💕: I’ll be home at 7 btw (yay), Ophi’s out but Roxy's home, we’ll have a nice dinner

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: 🍕🍔➡️🍆💦💦💦

Princess Y/N 💕: Ur 46 u shouldnt be using those emojis

Stupid guy 🎶♥︎🎤: U sayin im old???????

Princess Y/N 💕: Yup, byeee

Finally the clock struck 7 pm and you were home free. Eddie was already stood in the kitchen cooking dinner. “Ooh smells nice” you hummed as you entered the kitchen “Yup, mushroom risotto” he grinned and you, leaning down for a kiss, just as your lips met you backed off “Babe, Roxy doesn't like mushrooms” you told him with a sigh. 

“I know” he grinned again, a devious little display on his lips, only earning a frown from you “Is she not here?” you asked confused as you gave him a quick peck on the lips before bending down to slip your heels off “Nope, shipped her off to switzerland” you cocked your head with an unamused look on your face. Eddie chuckled “She is actually staying the night at Missys, told her she could since it's friday” he couldn't help the excitement on his face. “Wait so we're alone? Till the other one comes home?” your eyes went wide at the fact that you finally had the house all to yourselves, with both of you in it!

“Nope”

You frowned “Were alone aaaaaaall night. Little miss teenage rebel is staying with her boyfriend tonight” you backed off once again slightly “Ooh don't like that” you told him as you placed your hands behind your back stretching. “Yeah me neither, but I told her the rules, and even if she breaks them, which, she will, it won't be anything worse than what we did at her age. And if her staying the night at Matt’s is what gets her out of the house so we can have some time for ourselves is what it takes then so be it.”

“I love you” you smiled as you gave him a deep kiss “I'm just going to change into something more comfortable, I’ll be right back” you told him as you scurried off up the stairs. 

First time finally getting to be with your husband undisturbed in two months, this was a big deal. You estimated Eddie would be done in about a half hour which gave you plenty of time. You hopped into the shower first, tying your hair up so it wasn't wet when you went back down for dinner you began. You showered your whole body and scrubbed it clean with various heavily scented soaps. It was too short notice to shave your mound and expect it not to be red and irritated but you could at least trim it, you felt awkward using your hair scissors down there but at least when Eddie was around to see you you wouldn't be sporting a hairy jungle. You shaved your legs, your arms and even the small hairs gathering on your big toe, that felt extremely weird but you were excited and wanted to look and feel your best when you finally had sex with Eddie. Once you got out you smothered your body in lotion, strawberry scented just to ensure that your legs and arms were as smooth as possible. 

When you finally set foot at the top of the stairs you were clean, shaven, fresh wearing a matching black and dark purple set of sexy underwear from the really expensive part of Twilfit concealed under a pair of leggings and a baggy t-shirt. The second you stepped into the kitchen Eddie's arms were wrapped around you, a kiss landed on your forehead “mm you smell nice, did you shower?” “Yeah just quickly, wash the day off” you reasoned, getting a hum in response. “Well sit down, because you are getting the princess treatment tonight” he grinned as he guided you to the table. “I prefer queen thank you very much” you flicked your hair goofily earning a chuckle from Eddie. “Whatever you say baby” 

Dinner was heavenly, Eddie had outdone himself, and had clearly cooked to impress. By the time the last spoonful was gone you felt happy and content, sipping the last of your red wine in the crystal glass, a wedding present, part of a set of six. Just as Eddie was about to rise from his comfortable position across from you you halted him “I’ll clean up” you smiled. All Eddie could do was watch as you began loading the bottom rack of the dishwasher, sinking back into the dining chair and spreading his legs while you bent down. 

In Eddie's mind it was obvious you were finally going to have sex, just as soon as you loaded the dishwasher, it didn't cross his mind that foreplay was probably something that would be appreciated by you or any kind of affection beforehand so he just went for it. When you finished loading the dishwasher you straightened up to clean up the mess that was left from cooking, that's when Eddie decided to saunter over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nestling his cheek against your hair. “What do you say we move this to the bedroom?” you felt him force his hips against your ass, revealing his hard on that had worked up from watching you clean up. He grinned as you turned your head to peer up at him. “Oh I thought we could cuddle up and watch a movie on the couch, I'm kind of tired” you lied, nothing in your facial expression hinted towards you joking and Eddie's face fell. “Really?” he asked incredulously “What?” you turned in his arms to face him, his body cradling you against the kitchen counter. “We haven't had sex in like two months, we finally get the house to ourselves and you want to cuddle?” he raised his eyebrows, miffed but also slightly annoyed. “Is that all you think about? Sex?” you huffed at him, still playing your face neutral. 

“Well no” he averted his gaze from you as he delivered those words, in reality all he had thought about since he realized both girls were out for the night was finally getting you to himself, in bed, with no interruptions. His eyes met yours again “But we haven't, you know been with each other for like ages, and you sent me that photo today!” he realized as an argument. “So? Sexy photos doesnt mean you can just fuck me whenever you want” you couldn’t help the slight tug of your lips, cursing yourself for it. Eddie noticed it right away, wheels spinning in is head till he came to the conclusion that you were fucking with him. “Oh really?” he grinned. “Nope, takes two to tango” you grinned at the lame wording. “Oh so I can't just bend you over right here and have my way with you?” his hands retracted from their laced position behind your back to slither to your hips and grab a firm handful of the fat covering them. “Nope” you repeated. “Wanna bet?” “I hardly think you have the balls to actually do that, seeing as you're an old man and were not 20 anymore” you smiled. 

He smirked mischievously at you and was quick to indeed flip you around against the counter, force your hips against the edge and push your shoulders down to the cold marble. “I may be old as you call it” he slipped his hands under your shirt to find the hem of the black leggins and slip his fingers under the fabric, drawing his hands to your sides “But I would like to think I haven’t lost my spark yet” he ripped the fabric down your thighs harshly. Backing off slightly to allow him access to draw a finger against the purple fabric concealing your pussy. His touch was feather light as we guided his pointer finger along the slit of your chubby skin. You hummed at the feeling and retorted “I don't” adjusting yourself to support yourself on your forearms and arch your back slightly. At that he went through the same procedure with your underwear as he did your legging, he ripped them down to find your core. 

Knowing what was to come you spread your legs as wide as the fabric gathered around your mid thigh would allow you, revealing your cunt to him finally. A low groan from the back of his throat echoed through the walls of the kitchen. He once again brought his pointer finger up to you to slip it in only one knuckle deep. “Talk a lot to be so wet” he pushed his finger in further “How do you know its not discharge?” you grinned “Discharge doesn't stain your underwear baby” another knuckle, his finger now fully drawn in by your wet walls. His harsh demeanor of wording dropped as he breathed a simply “I've missed this”  

Your heart squeezed “Me too” you whispered. “Good” the harsh exterior was up again and on guard. You heard Eddie unbuckle his belt and zip the fly down. As much as you wanted to have slow passionate sex and reconnect to each other's touch starved bodies, doing it this way was best for the both of you. There was a requirement for an outlet, and if riling Eddie up was the way to it, you would happily oblige, loving sex would come later but for now rough and loaded sex was perfect. 

His hand wrapped around the base of his cock as he took a step closer to you, your round figure covering what he desired he went in blind, eyes fixed on the slope of your hips he grasped onto your left and nudged himself blindly against you. He found what he was looking for quickly and pushed himself inside. His tip rested around hot flesh as his head lolled back on his shoulders, “Fuuuuck” he groaned as he forced his hips slowly to be flush against the fat of your ass, you let out a low deep moan at the action and expected him to start thrusting almost instantly, when he didn't you opened your mouth and was about to tell him move goddammit when he finally forced himself to retract his hips only to slam them back against you. He did it so quickly and with such force that you couldn't help the loud almost pornographic moan that ripped itself from your chest.  

He let out a loud groan and within seconds was at a relatively fast pace drawing his hips from you and thrusting them back in. Both his hands grasped hard at your hips, pushing and pulling you against him, making you rock back and forth against the countertop. He held onto you so hard it was almost painful but you couldn't focus on that when the head of his cock began hitting you at the sweet spot that if he hit too hard or too long would eventually leave you crying and not from pleasure. It wasn't often Eddie could hit that spot, not when you were lying down, only with your back to him or sat on top of him and everytime it was a gamble, being on top of him would most definitely make it painful but when he was thrusting into you from behind you could properly feel that distinguished pleasure. 

Loud moans and groans were heard from the picture perfect cute little kitchen in an equally cute and little house, a great contrast from what was actually going on. Eddie was cursing as he worked his body as hard as he could while you breathed and moaned strings of fucking christ, feels so good fuck, and yeah right there, fuck right there. 

“Shit baby, I-I wont last long” Eddie heaved from behind you, willing himself to hold back but he couldnt when he hadnt touched you or fucked you like this for ages, it was all too much. “It's ok-” you broke off with a moan as Eddie hit one very harsh and angry thrust. With only Eddies cock you wouldn’t cum anyway, you needed some other form of stimulation or at least for a longer time in order to reach your high, and even then it was only a mild wave that you barely even noticed that came. Eddie knew this, and always made sure to make you cum in one way or another, on occasions he could hold out till that small wave hit but this time he was just sorry that he couldn't make it last even a little longer for it to actually be enjoyable for you.

As Eddie began thrusting faster, the previous pleasure of just being in the moment, having sex with Eddie turned to something else. You felt it, that tingle in your core, as if something other than your walls was squeezing at your pussy. You could only assume it was because of Eddie's rough pace and the fact that you hadn't had this pleasure in forever. “Shit” you breathed in suprise “Fuck, fuck, Eddie I’m gonna cum” you moaned . “Shit really?” he breathed “Yes, Yes! just- just keep going!” that second yes was nowhere near an answer to Eddie but a loud praise at the fact that you were about to cum and only within about a minute of Eddie slipping inside you. “Fuck, fuck ok” Eddie shut his eyes tightly, willing his body to hold out just a little while longer. 

That tingle gained power within seconds, spreading from your core to your hips, stomach and thigh which were forcing themselves to close. “Fuck” you let out an extremely loud moan which would no doubt be heard my Ms.Driscol had she been out in her garden at that moment. “Fuck Eddie I’m coming. Ahh I’m coming!” you practically screamed. Another scream and that tingle exploded within you, shards flowing throughout your body as if to say I'm done now, you can relax. The effects of the explosion lasted for a few seconds before the message had been received and your limbs gave up on you. As you breathed heavily Eddie released a mix of happy excited laughs at his accomplishment and groans of pleasure. He let out a particularly loud one when you felt his hips force as close to you as space would allow and his back arch in a strain as heavy loads of cum spilled within your walls. 

Finally you collapsed, had your upper body not been splayed on the counter you would have crumpled to the floor. Eddie breathed heavily as he bent over laying his head on your shoulder blade. 

After what felt like a long time Eddie huffed a laugh “fuck, that was good”, you chuckled “you think so? I felt it was mediocre at best” “Oh shut up” his weak hand squeezed once again at your hip making you giggle again. “Now can we watch a movie and cuddle?” you smiled. “Sorry baby I wish but I have plans on counting orgasms tonight”

“That, was a horrible joke”

[thecountesstribe]

HOTD 2X5 THOUGHTS.

I knew after coming off an action packed episode, the pace would've slowed down and I'm not mad at it.

BAELA AND JACE WERE THE MVP'S OF THIS EPISODE. THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!!! AFTER THE DROUGHT THAT THEY HAD IN SEASON 1 AND THE BEGINNING OF SEASON 2, WE'RE FINALLY BEING FED.

The Targtowers parading around Meleys head this episode has got to be one of the dumbest shit besides putting bbq Aegon on the throne they've ever done. Yes let's galavant the one thing that keeps us in power and the realm in order for a petty show of arrogance. That makes sense. The small folk immediately being “nah this ain't it” is so funny and a sign of all the things to come for them. They're idiots! Meleys wasn't no traitor you bums, you were. Get all the greens off my screen.

Aegon's suffering, I used to pray for times like this. It's highly unlikely Sunfyre is dead. Alicent and Crybaby Cole aren't together anymore..... Fuckin yes. I told you guys Alicent is delusional as hell, she really thought the same council that she helped usurped Rhaenyra's birthright because she's a WOMAN, would've let her, a woman rule them? Criston, Larys and Aemond not backing her had to taste like gravel going down. It's deserved. She had the opportunity to do the right thing and she forfeited it again and again and again. Fuck Almond today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, the next day after that and the day after forevermore. If I was him I would take Haelena's words as an ill omen.

I felt for Corlys man. Like he pisses me off don't get me wrong but that's still my guy and he's lost a lot. Rhaenys was Corlys practical to his idealistic delusional. That man never listened to his wife until it was too late. Him trying to name Baela his heir, when Rhaenys wanted Rhaena to be his heir at first, can't do that now anyway, Rhaena's not around right now and Baela absolutely refusing and gagging tf outta him in the same breath , I cheered. Baela is upholding her grandmother's last wishes. No more but “BaElA hAD MoRe ClaIm to Driftmark” discourse, she's “FIRE AND BLOOD!”, Driftmark should be passed to “SALT AND SEA”. She said it herself. Now a certain demographic could stop equating her being a poc to her Velaryon roots. She every bit a Targaryen. Don't start with the Rhaena discourse either because she's the same as well. The only reason Rhaenys wanted her to have Driftmark is because it would've gone to Rhaena either way had she married Lucerys and Corlys had no intention to claim those boys atp in time. Corlys is trying to honor Rhaenys wishes, I could respect that but do it in the way she wanted it in her final moments Corlys. He's still my guy though.

I am sick of this Harrenhal plot. That scene with Daemon and his mom....... Just why? He never even met his mother either. I am so sorry Mama Alyssa. Even for the incest in the Targaryen lineage, did the writers have to take it that far? That shit was egregious. The only good part was seeing Laena again. Answer the question though Daemon. “Are you taking care of her girls?!” Get Daemon out of there now. Alys has that man gone off his rockers. I'm over it. I love how Simon is sick of Daemon's shenanigans though, he's real asf for that 🤣😭. Caraxes sighting 🥺. I miss my chaos noodle boy.

Rhaenyra comforting Baela. We won. Look she mightn't have had the best relationship with the girls in the show and it's not developed on screen properly, thanks for that HBO, but she does love and care for them. Her telling Baela about her Grandma (I still refuse to believe Rhaenys is gone💔😭) and we got an explanation for why Rhaena didn't try to claim a dragon on Dragonstone (she almost died and Rhaenyra wouldn't allow her to do it again), that was for me. In the books those girls were close to her and Rhaena was her “Realm's delight” namesake, I'll never forgive them for taking that and the team black family dynamics away from me. We got a Luke mention 😭. Her and Jace working out their issues and she knowing he snuck away to be a diplomat, more of that please. She's finally acknowledging her strengths and weaknesses and starting to move and think like a leader. I love it here.

Jace finally got a chance to do more than just mew, tweak and brood. I understand why Rhaenyra wasn't sending him out, that boy is out for blood, as he should be and he's inherently going to be reckless if he did go out to scout instead of Baela. Just listen to him last episode and tell me if he sounded like he had a clear head on his shoulders. I wish we saw more than that shot of Vermax and him actually riding his dragon but a win is a win. Him subtly threatening the Freys with Vermax, he's a diplomat alright. His mother needs “bent knees” and that is exactly what he got her. Proud of him. Baela going about her duties and whacking the men that are being annoying as she goes. Proud of them. Diplomat husband and battle wife is just *chef's kiss*. I'll say it again I absolutely adore his relationship with Baela. It's so healthy and I don't get into fandoms to “ship” but I love them your honor. Their soft way of speaking to one another, even when they're disagreeing. Him confiding in her about how humiliating it is that he thinks he's being coddled because of his standing as prince and her getting to go out and scout and fight but her still understanding and trusting him on his secret mission (that's what it was, he snuck out to go treat with the Freys), him being considerate of her at all times, “Rhaenys is dead and Baela can't face the burden alone” yeah I love them. Plus she has him trained 😩🤣. One look, then she grabbed him and he stopped immediately in his tracks and he backed up and started paying attention. Whew. The greatest King and Queen that could've come out of the 7 realms.

We had a Rhaena sighting. Look I love Jeyne but I'll need her to watch her tone with Rhaena please and thank you. Rhaena you're not powerless love. She's been through enough, I just need everybody to get out of her way and give her everything that she wants, it's what she deserves. I didn't like how she found out about Rhaenys though💔. I think they're really scrapping Nettles though 🙃. Wtf Sara and Ryan. I'll not get into that, it's literally grinding my gears though.

Next week we'll see Silverwing and Vermithor!!! I'm excited. Until then guys.

[fluffansmut-old]

Like you haven’t done that

Summary: You’re the second Byers child and the middle sister in the Byers trio. Most of the time your brothers are great, but when you start to sneak around, dating Eddie Munson and planing r-rated activities with him, your big brother suddenly becomes more annoying than ever.

Even though you’re not doing anything that you know that he hasn’t already done himself.

Content warnings: Eddie x Byers!reader, protective & annoying Jonathan, the Byers kids (including reader) have daddy issues, mentions of sexual activity, mentions of birth control options, hickies, slightly awkward sex-talk.

A/N: realised I hadn’t posted this to tumblr, and since it’s all out on AO3 already I’ve decided to drop all three parts on tumblr right away.

Word count: 4227

AO3 | Masterlist

Part 2 - Part 3

It was friday morning in march-85.

You were sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast with your brothers this particular morning, when the phone rang.

Hoping it to be who you thought It were you sprung out of your chair to answer.

“Why is she so eager to answer the phone nowadays? Will asked Jonathan who shook his head in response.

“No idea, but something is definitely up.”

You answered the phone.

“Byers”

“Hello sweetheart” you heard on the other side.

“Hi babe”

“I was just calling to ask if everything is arranged for tonight or if I need to kick Wayne and his poker buddies out of the trailer for the night” Eddie said, you could hear in his voice how excited he was.

“It’s arranged, Will is playing DnD at wheeler’s, Jonathan is studying at the library with Nancy and mom is working late so she won’t be home until at least 11.30.” You confirmed.

You and Eddie had carefully planned out the whole thing. The two of you had been trying to find a moment to yourselves, a moment to have sex and not worry constantly about being quiet or interrupted. (Or caught for that matter, Joyce didn’t know that you were sexually active or with Eddie for that matter)

so now when all the people living in your house were otherwise occupied, you jumped on it.

“Great, then I’ll se you at school gorgeous.” Eddie said, you could clearly visualise the smirk on his face.

“See you, babe, I love you” you said.

“Love you too.” Eddie replied then the line when silent.

When you turned around to return to your breakfast you were met by your big brother, who was leaning up against the wall giving you a pointed look.

“Who is babe?” He asked.

“None of your concern” you replied, walking towards the table.

Jonathan was of course not ready to drop it there.

What do you have planned that mom doesn’t know about?” He asked. Sitting down across from you at the table again.

“It’s nothing Jonathan, nothing.” You said, trying to put an end to the conversation. You didn’t want Will to hear you argue.

“Okay well if it’s nothing, then why are you telling babe that you are home alone tonight? I thought you were gonna study with Stacy?” Jonathan said, calling your bluff.

“First and foremost, I am too, going to study with Stacy tonight. But stop eavesdropping on my phone calls! Is nothing fucking private in this house anymore?” You exclaimed as you rose from the table and put the bowl and spoon in the sink.

“Don’t swear infront of Will, and I’m not buying anything so tell me what you are up to.”

Will who still was stained since your parents divorce hated fights in general and tried to help.

“Hey Jonathan it’s okay, Dustin says shit all the time, I’m used too it?”

“There see, he’s used too it.” You said

“And besides, you aren’t my parent and you cannot tell me what to do!”

Jonathan huffed.

“I am still one and a half year older than you” he said.

“I’m riding my bike to school today” you said, refusing to have this conversation continuing on all the way to school.

You ruffled Will’s hair when you passed his chair and shot him a

“Have a good day kiddo” before you walked out the door.

The first time you saw Eddie that day was when he walked into the cafeteria as you were walking out. He grabbed your arm and spun you close to him.

At first you got a little frightened but when you realised that it was Eddie you smiled. He pressed his forehead against yours and you locked eyes with his soft, dreamy ones.

“Hello gorgeous” he said.

“Hello handsome” you replied and kissed him.

“I can’t wait for tonight” he said. ”the thought of what we are about to do later has been consuming my mind all day”

“What are these thought consuming ideas of yours ?” You asked.

His eyes grew impossibly wider with lust and he said,

“I don’t think those words are appropriate on school property” he said with a smirk, teasing you.

“Are you really one to talk about what’s appropriate, you know since you´re known for trampling all over the tables in the cafeteria when it suits you.”

His smirk grew even wider when you called him out on his bullshit and then he leaned in closer and whispered,

“Let’s just say; I want to ravish you” he said.

“Oh please do” you replied. Giving him a kiss.

“You want a preview?” He asked, and before you even thought it through you nodded and said;

“Yes!”

Right where your collarbone meets your neck he gave you a hickey.

When he pulled away you heard him gasp a little.

“Holy shit, sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make it so obvious.” He said and ran his fingers over it.

“Is it really big?” You asked, now slightly nervous about the questions that your brother would have for you.

“Bigger than I was going for” he said.

“I’m sorry sweetheart”

“It’s fine, I just gotta hide it from Jonathan” you said.

You gave Eddie a goodbye kiss for now and you parted ways, he went into the cafeteria and you and Stacy went towards to the bathroom to try and cover up the hickey.

On the way there you did a quick search of the surroundings, just to make sure Jonathan weren’t watching.

What you didn’t notice was the king of Hawkins high himself, that saw the whole thing play out.

And when Steve later met Nancy and Jonathan outside of science class things didn’t go as you planned.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” He said, smiling at the pair.

“Nothing much, just trying to get through this school year.” Nancy replied with a small sigh, gesturing towards the pile of paper she had in her arms. “How are you?”

“Same, just trying to survive until graduation. “ he said, and then he remembered what he witness earlier “Hey Byers, I saw your sister with that Munson kid before, when did they start dating?”

The question threw Jonathan a little... he wasn’t stupid, he knew that babe most likely were someone that you were in fact dating? But, that it was Eddie Munson made him feel uneasy.

“You aren’t fucking with me now, are you Harrington?” Jonathan asked.

“Wait you didn’t know?” Steve said, slightly surprised.

“Are you positive that it was Eddie Munson?” Nancy asked sensing the tension from Jonathan.

“I’m certain , that cult like t-shirt that he always wears, leather jacket, and jeans vest, cos apparently that’s something you can wear at the same time. “ Steve said, describing the eccentric kid they all had seen in the cafeteria countless of times before. “It was him.”

“And you are sure that it was my sister?” Jonathan then asked.

“Yes, I have seen your sister before, she wore this patterned blouse this morning right?” Steve said, starting to describe the blouse. “Light blue with geometric shapes on it in pastel colours?”

“Yeah” Jonathan said, remembering the blouse from breakfast.

“Then I’m sorry my friend, but it was her too.” Steve said, giving Jonathan a sympathetic look.

You had successfully avoided your big brother during the whole school day and was more than satisfied with that when you hopped on you bike again that afternoon.

Your mind was only focused on preparing for Eddie’s arrival later.

When you came home you dropped your bag by the door and took a deep breath, enjoying the silence.

You organised you room a bit, ie, shoving junk and old stuffed animals into the closet.

You straightened up your bed a bit, not that it still would look like that at the end of the night but still.

Right then and there you realised that you didn’t have any condoms…

Sure it was Eddies responsibility to bring some, but you didn’t want the night to be spoiled even if he forgot them.

You weren’t on any birth control, simply bc that required a signature from a parent, and taking that up with your mom was a no go at the moment. You thought about it for a moment, then an idea popped into your head. Jonathan might have some…

You walked into your brothers room and headed straight for his nightstand, but as you pulled out the draw you only found this old photography magazine. You cursed a little under your breath, couldn’t he just have some condoms you could steal without his knowledge?

You checked the pockets of some of his most worn clothes but only found nickels and gum wrappers.

His desk draw wasn’t any successful either.

”How can he not have any condoms?” you thought, and returned to the nightstand, you picked up the magazine to check underneath it. It was then you hit the jackpot, out from between the pages fell condoms, onto the floor.

”That sneaky little shit” you mumbled and picked up two condoms, putting them in your pant-pocket. As you bent down to pick up the rest you suddenly heard a very familiar voice.

”I knew that you were fucking lying” Jonathan said. You jerked at his words just dropping the remaining condoms and the magazine right back into his nightstand.

”He can’t even bring his own fucking condoms?”

”I have not clue what your on about?” You said, deciding that denial was the way to go with Jonathan. You began to walk out of the room but Jonathan grabbed your wrist making you stay.

”I´m not stupid if you think so, I know that its drug-dealer-cult-leader Eddie Munson who you are planning to sleep with.” Jonathan said, getting properly worked up about it all. ”And its obviously him that also already branded you like cattle.”

He pointed towards the hickey by your collarbone.

”You are such a fucking idiot, you don´t even know him! ” you spat, jerking your hand free from his grip. ”And its not like you haven’t done the exact same thing.”

”Don´t bring me into this” he responded. ”You are the one to make stupid mistakes”

Your blood was boiling and you wanted to slap your brother across the face.

”You are the stupid one, going around judging people on what other people say all the time.” You said, getting really defensive over Eddie. ”Weren’t we just the freaks,huh? When Will went missing? We were the zombie-boy-siblings for about a year Jonathan”

”That was totally different and you know it.” He said.

”How exactly is it different?” You said.

Jonathan stumbled over his words, not really sure of what to say.

”Its not worth explaining to you” he landed on.

”You are such a dick, do you know that “ you said, walking out of his room.

”I want my condoms back.” Jonathan then said.

”They are all in your nightstand.” You replied, walking towards the kitchen.

”I saw you putting some in your pocket, I’m not stupid, hand them over” he said.

”And what will the outcome be of that?” You asked him, ”do you think that you can stop me from having sex just because you take away the condoms?”

He huffed.

”You are really stupid, you really would have unprotected sex just cause the contraception just isn’t right the beside you?” He said.

” I´ve heard the pullout method is effective or what do you say picture-perfect-big-brother” you spat at him, knowing full well what he and Nancy did at Murray Baumans house about 3 months ago.

”What are you talking about now?” He said, playing innocent.

” Cut the bullshit, you know that I talk to Nancy right?” You responded.

“First and foremost that is none of your business, and it’s not what we are discussing here?” Jonathan said.

“I thought unprotected sex was exactly what we were discussing?” You shot back.

Before Jonathan could reply your fight got cut off by your mom coming home with a pounding migraine.

“Hey, hey,hey” she shouted and then held a hand to her head. “Who is having unprotected sex?”

You quickly pointed a finger towards Jonathan as he did the same towards you, just as when you were kids.

“Okay, you two sit down, and don’t speak a word until I’m back.” Joyce said and pointed towards the couch.

You and Jonathan started to bicker about calling each other out as you mom went towards the kitchen.

“I said not a word!” She snapped at you, as she grabbed a hairclip from the table, putting her hair up.

You and Jonathan shut up quickly after that.

Joyce had looked forward towards a quiet house with only you and Stacy home so she could rest, but now she had to give a improvised sex talk to her two teenagers.

“Let’s have them close in age Joyce, they’ll have so much FUN together” she muttered, imitating Lonnie, whilst she was rumaging around trying to find painkillers.

Of course there was some truth in what he had said, you and Jonathan could always depend on each other to look after one another, which sometimes was nice and sometimes ended up in situations like this.

It drove Joyce crazy, the way the two of you never could leave it, she was just happy that both of you took it out on each other and both considered Will to be your favourite sibling, since Will would take fights so much more to heart.

“So, one at the time please explain why the two of you are fighting?” She said as she sat down on the table opposite you.

“Well for starters, she’s lying to you” Jonathan blurted out pointing at you.

“Oh c’mon for fucks sake” you said.

“Mind your language a bit please, now is this true ?” Joyce said, searching your face with that concerned mom look that you hated.

“Jonathan is totally throwing me under the bus here and it’s so unfair” you replied, hoping to shift blame.

The problem with your brother was that he knew every curveball you had and had learned how to easily dodge them.

“You didn’t answer the question?” He taunted.

You gave him the finger when your mom looked away and then you said,

“I’m not lying more than Jonathan is?”

“I’m not lying, she is.”

“Okay okay, quit bickering” Joyce said, shutting you both up. “I do not care who is lying and by the looks of it you both are, now what brought on this whole unprotected sex discussion?”

It was like a lightbulb went off over your head, and then you turned towards your brother.

“You want to tell her of should I?” You said putting your hand in your pocket.

Jonathan who had enough of your bullshit didn’t think before blurting out

“She stole my condoms to go have sex with the school drug dealer”

“Well Jonathan had unprotected sex with Nancy at a strangers house” you shot back, if he could play dirty then so could you.

“You are freaking unbelievable, how is that relevant at all?” Jonathan said.

Joyce was overwhelmed to say the least, these were sides of her children (and Nancy Wheeler for that matter) that she never expected to see.

“Okay I’m gonna need so much more information to make this make sense.” She gave you and Jonathan this maternal look that you had seen a thousand times before. It was best for the two of you to tell the truth.

“If I’m gonna say anything I want him to shut the fuck up whilst I talk” you started, glaring towards Jonathan.

Jonathan was about to protest when Joyce cut him off.

“Dial down on the cursing and the tone please” she first scolded. “But you do make a valid point, now Jonathan, let your sister talk”

Jonathan thought about protesting again but decided against it, since it probably wouldn’t help.

“I’ve met this guy…his name is Eddie, and despite popular belief” you said, shooting a glare towards Jonathan, “he is actually the sweetest man I've ever met. He is kind, considerate and I feel very safe with him.”

Jonathan who at this point didn't believe the sincerity in your voice rolled his eyes at your statement, but kept quiet.

“Okay…” Joyce said choosing her next words wisely. “He sounds lovely… but what worries me is the talk about drugs, has he ever offered you drugs?”

“He never has” you said triumphantly, looking at Jonathan before returning your eyes towards your mom.

“Has he ever dealt drugs with someone else in your presence?” Joyce asked.

You shook your head, cause sure people pulled him aside in school whilst you were in earshot but he always dealt the actual drugs in the woods by the school, and you weren’t there.

“Is he even like.. uhm high in front of you?” Joyce asked, searching your face for any indication of insincerity.

You pondered the question for a moment… It wasn’t like Eddie was high most of the time, it was more of a business than a hobby to put it that way. But sure it had happened once or twice that you surprised him at the trailer park, to find him with a joint in between his fingers.

“No, he isn’t” you responded.

“Then there isn’t much more I can ask from him, in that department” Joyce settled on.

Jonathan wasn’t satisfied with the fact that your mom was willing to drop the drug dealing after that conversation, he cleared his throat to say something, but was only met by a held up finger in front of him, telling him to keep quiet.

“Now honey, I assume that you are planning on sleeping with this Edward? It was Edward right?” Joyce asked, calling you by the nickname she had for you since you were a kid.

You blushed at the question, wasn’t it obvious?

“You can call him Eddie, everybody does” you first corrected. “But yeah…”

It was strange to admit it to your mom. It was even strange to say it out loud.

“Can I ask if you’ve ever done anything of that nature before?” She asked. Blood drained from your face, you didn’t want to admit any details in front of your mom and brother.

“No details necessary, just yes or no” your mom added and put a hand on your knee.

You thought about you and Eddie, about hickies, handjobs and fingerings, about Eddie’s hands on your tits and that time you came from grinding on his jean-clad thigh.

“ uhm, yes, but nothing too intimate so to say” you settled.

You mom nodded, then she turned towards your brother for the first time in a while.

“And am I right to assume by the conversation that I walked in on that you and Nancy are sexually active?” She asked.

You snickered silently,because finally it wasn’t only about you.

Jonathan pushed you slightly in the side with his elbow to shut you up.

“Yes, you are” Jonathan said, searching the wall in front of him trying to avoid looking his mother in the face as he answered the question.

“Okay, the two of you, let’s talk about protection” she stated going into this educating version of herself that you both hated.

“Mom, c’mon, we know already” Jonathan muttered, you saw him turning red in the face.

“Um no, we are discussing this” Joyce stated. Just as she was about to continue the door opened and in came the youngest Byers sibling.

“Hi Im just gonna grab my Dn… are both of you in trouble at the same time again?” Will asked, looking at both his older siblings. Who both looked flustered and ashamed.

“Why do you assume that they are in trouble?” Joyce asked. Taken a bit by suprised at Will´s question, was it really that obvious?

“ mom, your sitting on the coffetable, plus you have your hair up, you only put you hair up when you´re annoyed.” Will stated.

“Kid is good.” you said, smiling slightly at how observant your little brother was.

“They are in fact in trouble, but it's nothing that you need to worry about” Joyce said smiling at her youngest. “Go get your things. “

He ran off towards his room and your mom turned back towards you and Jonathan.

“Now where were we?” She said, “oh, yeah, Birth control is mandatory. It’s not up for discussion, I don’t want grandchildren yet and I promise you guys, non of you wants an STI”

“I think she’s talking to you” you said to Jonathan.

“At least I have condoms in my room” he muttered, “it`s more than your shitty boyfriend has.”

“Jonathan Byers!” Joyce said sternly, shutting your brother up.

“I just wanna add for the record that i didn´t borrow condoms from Jonathans stash because Eddie wasn´t planning on bringing any.” you said, defending both yourself and Eddie. “ I did it because I didnt want to be left without, incase he forgot, or it broke or something.”

“That was a very mature decision honey and I think it shows that you´re mature and responsible.” she said. ”although please ask your brother before going through his drawers and stealing things from him”

“Mkay, then” you said and rolled your eyes. You were nowhere near apologising to Jonathan.

“We can also look into contraceptive pills if that is something you might want” she said looking at you, hand on your knee.

“And if it ever comes up for discussion between you and Nancy, I want you to tell her that I will help in anyway I can, I’ll talk to Karen with her if she wants to.”

Jonathan simply nodded, and considered telling her about it.

“Now want to talk about consent” Joyce continued on, looking like she was mentally checking things off the “sex-talk-check-list”

“Once again mom we know, okay?” Jonathan groaned.

“Well good, that’s good” Joyce said. “Because like birth control it’s mandatory, I don’t want you to feel any pressure to do something that you don’t want to, no matter how big or small it is, and I don’t want you to pressure anyone into anything”

“I just wanna say if I ever find out that Munson has pressured you into doing some freaky shit then I swear to god I’ll beat him with my own hands” Jonathan said and your first instinct was to slap him, but since that would only land you in more trouble with your mom you decided against it.

“I can’t believe you” you said, “how can you even say that? It’s so unlike you to judge someone so hard with even knowing them”

Neither Joyce nor Jonathan had any chance to say anything because right after your outburst, there came a crash from your room and a very familiar,

“Oh shit”

“Speaking of the devil” Jonathan said with an eye roll.

“Shut the fuck up.” You said.

“Jonathan, that is quite enough” Joyce said, giving Jonathan a stern look. “Honey, go tell Eddie to wait in your room whilst we finish up here” Joyce said and you rose from the couch.

In the doorway to your room you saw your little brother staring wide-eyed at the long haired man who was busy putting all the cds he knocked down back.

“Hey babe” you said which made him look up.

“Oh I’m sorry sweetheart, I tried to be discreet and ended up being the total opposite.” He said smiling at you, then he turned his attention to the younger boy who stood next to you clutching his campaign to his chest.

“And this must the younger-brother-Byers?”

“Uhm yes, I’m.. Will” he said, turning a little shy. He then turned to you and you spotted that curious hint in his eye. “What’s hellfire club?” He whispered trying discreetly to motion towards the shirt Eddie was wearing.

“Ask him.” You said, knowing full well that Eddie would enjoy both answering the question and your brothers reaction.

“Will this is Eddie” you said, taking a step into the room, coaxing Will to join you. “He is the absolute nicest. And you can ask absolutely ask him what you asked me”

“What’s hellfire club?” Will asked, blushing slightly.

“It’s only the coolest club at Hawkins high” Eddie said, looking very proud. “We play DnD, and I’m the dungeon master”

You immediately noticed that spark light up inside of Will.

“You play DnD?” He asked, voice high pitched and excited.

“Live for it kid” Eddie replied. “I take it as you do too?”

“Yeah, I actually planned the campaign we are playing tonight” he said, looking at the things he was holding.

“Oh no way, can you show me?” Eddie said and took a seat on your bed. Not two seconds later Will was sat next to him.

“I just came him here to tell you that we are totally busted and mom asked me to tell you to stay in here whilst she finished up the most embarrassing mom-talk I’ve ever received.” You said to Eddie.

“Yeah, yeah go be embarrassed, I don’t have time for you right now” he said and shifted his focus back to Will who already started talking about the campaign.

You smiled as you returned to the living room, at least one of your brothers liked Eddie.

[fierceawakening]

So, actual question about actual gaslighting:

Mom tells me that my birthday gift is a table from IKEA that she and dad are buying me. I'm happy about this, as I very much do need a table. The one I have is one they were getting rid of when they moved into an apartment more suited to them aging in place, and is a lovely table but is way the fuck too big for my small apartment so I'm happy about this.

We go to IKEA. Somehow they forget that this is an hour each way and everyone is frustrated and annoyed at the trip taking so long so we're all kind of snippy while we're there. Which is maybe not great but I'm just kinda, eh, shit happens, I'm finding a table. Whatever.

TO MY PERCEPTION, my mom has a thing about people getting snippy. She starts to get really nervous and uncomfortable and make a big deal out of it, where I personally would prefer we just all laugh it off. "Oh fuck, we're all tired and cranky and forgot how fucking HUGE an IKEA is. Ow, argh, welcome to the universe, we all want to commit murder now but are too tired, woe is us, ha ha ha." But, again, as I perceive it, this is Not Okay with my mom, who really wants everyone to act happy and grateful all the time. It's TO ME like she can't see grateful if you're not beaming, and it baffles me.

BUT I am not her, and I could be downplaying that I'm curt to the point of mean, so let's presume that I'm terrible and grouchy and should really be less of both given that this is a present for me. Okay. I suck. Let's go.

Well, things get worse. We go to have dinner after, and I say we should wait until we get back to town and know the restaurants, and that while I know she practices intermittent fasting religiously "it's never actually the end of the world to mess up your diet once due to extenuating circumstances, we can push dinnertime to 6:30."

Well she LOSES IT because I called her fasting a diet and we have an argument which culminates in us eating at a terrible Mexican place we all absolutely hate so it won't be 6:30 at which point she absolutely cannot eat.

We're all tired and grumpy and annoyed because that was exhausting They take the table home with them and tell me they'll come back tomorrow (today) to assemble it, and then, since this is about my birthday, we'll go out to lunch for my bday. (I could SWEAR I asked if it was OK that that would take attention away from Mother's Day and she said it's fine, but maybe I don't remember?)

Anyway, we're all still exhausted and kind of annoyed, and now we're assembling furniture. I'm tired and hungry and looking forward to lunch, and from MY PERSPECTIVE I'm still in a bit of a snippy mood but I don't THINK I'm doing anything terrible.

But she gets super upset. Why am I not happy? Why am I not excited? Why did I not immediately mention Mother's Day? And I'm just like oh man can I just focus on putting a table together? And she's like why am I talking in the way I'm talking? MY answer to which is that we're all tired and run down and it's normal, but she doesn't like this.

Finally she tells me that she's not going to go with me to lunch if "I can't behave decently."

I'm hurt about this, but I don't want to promise that I can "behave decently" because I know from experience that trying to mask in front of her makes things worse, not better.

So I say, "You need to make up your own mind. I am not sure I can mask my snippiness until I have eaten and calmed down. If this is a dealbreaker for you, please just drop us off and we'll catch back up with you. If it's not, I'll probably be fine once I've rested and have some food in me."

I feel like this makes sense, and actually even like maybe it would help! I can't vow to never be visibly tired or annoyed, but I can be aware she dislikes it and tell her I'll catch her later when it won't put her on edge.

But her reaction to that is basically that I want license to behave badly, and that I don't care about her enough to "be decent." She goes with us, but the whole time talks about how unfair it is that I be allowed to "not be decent."

I eat the food and enjoy the restaurant, and as I predicted, this helps me to feel calmer and present as less obviously irritated. I am hurt deeply by the "not decent" remark but able to hide those feelings as I'm calmer. Everything is fine. Ish.

...

AITA or is she? I mean, I think she is, but... if I am abusive or cruel and giving myself a pass, I feel like I should know that.

I just... Idk. I don't feel like anyone else does this. Like, friends and loved ones have seen me annoyed. And they don't necessarily like it, but there isn't the same sense that I'm incapable of being decent.

Dafuq do I do about this? I love my mom but I'm so tired of feeling like I can't just... be pissed off, lest it hurt her in some way, when it seems like me being pissed off in front of other people is treated like it's, maybe not perfect, but normal.

[fbfh]

rocks at your window pt. 12 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18+!! ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year. additionally, ricky begins to desplay more symptoms of mental illness and bpd but he does get therapy and has a good support system. Obviously I'm not a professional and this is for entertainment so while I have done my research pls take this with a grain of salt!! or several!! /lh

!! contains some spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts, and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 5k

genre: mild hurt/lotta comfort, smut, feels

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: post show depression, more backstory for reader, brief mentions of gifted kid burnout and rediscovering your love for theatre, more fake texts, ricky is down ba-a-a-a-ad, classic Hot Boy Climbing Through Your Window moment, heart to heart convos, smut, body worship, clit sucking n fingering, penetrative sex, emotional 'i love you' sex, ricky begging <3, possible cliff hanger?? (BUT NOT BAD I PROMISE)

summary: it's late at night and you're reflecting on your experience performing high school musical the musical with all your fellow wildcats when someone shows up, throwing rocks at your window, and thinking the exact same thing.

song recs: rocks - imagine dragons, end of all things - panic at the disco, I hear a symphony - cody fry, fuck it I love you - lana del rey, tell me that you love me - victorious cast, where do we go from here - amelie obc, I can't handle change - roar

a/n: this is the last chapter of rocks. I got so emotional writing this and I sincerely hope yall enjoy. also before anyone asks YES I'm planning a sequel about season 2 but it's curretnly tba. I hope you cry when you hear rocks by imagine dragons and get flustered as FUCK when you hear tell me that you love me by the victorious cast because Ricky Bowen needs to be told I love you to cum it's canon Tim Federle told me so. Fangz again to Cici for proof reading and fangz to you guys for reading <3 send in Ricky asks lol

tags @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @pikzel @demirunner @brinaslittlefreak @girlfriendwhoseawitch @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa @n-slayaaaaa @stormi-ames @rainforest-daisies @sunshineangel-reads

The show is over, midterms are over, now it’s Friday night and you can’t sleep. It’s one of a handful of Fridays over the past few months that you haven’t spent at rehearsal, and no matter how many times they roll around, it still feels weird. You chalk it up to routine, muscle memory, but part of you still worries you’ll be late when you see it’s past 6pm. You miss the El Rey, you miss the auditorium and rehearsal room at school, you miss circle time with Miss Jenn and all your friends. Post show depression always sucks, but after everything that happened during High School Musical, how intense things got, the letdown is worse than usual. 

Even all the fun things Miss Jenn had planned to keep everyone’s spirits up until the next show gets announced are all over. You’d spent a week with your friends learning a song about winter Ashlyn wrote and Gina and Carlos choreographed so everyone could do a flashmob for the new East High theatre department’s instagram page. Miss Jenn got everyone together to make some content in advance to post before the break, but you finished your last take of the flashmob after school today. New Year’s isn’t until later this week, so you’ve finally reached the wasteland between closing one show and starting another. 

“Hey,” your mom says softly from your doorway, and you look up from where you’re sitting on your bed. You greet her quietly, flipping through your playbill from the show, still wearing your cast shirt. You have a few open hat boxes in front of you, adorned in light florals and other delicate patterns and designs. Each one of them is full to the brim with playbills, confetti, and other mementos from past shows, except the one in front of you, which still has some room left in it. 

Your mom walks over to you, watching your expression closely as you flip through your playbill, not wanting to put it away just yet. She rests her hand on your back, rubbing her thumb affectionately before tucking the tag of your shirt back into the neck. You both know what’s coming. You think back to the deal you made with her after your dad left. You didn’t realize until months after how much you’d been struggling with everything. Your mom discussed dropping out of the show you were in, even though you were so close to opening night, and you’d refused. You’re not the type to drop out of a show you’ve spent months rehearsing for just because of some struggles in your personal life. 

Your mom could see clear as day how you weren’t having fun like you used to, how burnt out you were going to get if you kept up like that. What kind of mother would she be if she just let you do that to yourself? Once you’d found a new house and a new job out in Utah, you came to the agreement that you’d take a break for the summer. After that, if you wanted to do theatre again, you could do a show at your new school - nothing high pressure, or competitive and catty, or overly professional. After that, if you still want to, you can return back to professional theatre after you graduate. 

“So?” she says softly. Your chest squeezes, and you’re so grateful that you’ve been able to feel and see and do and experience every single thing you love about theatre so much. There had been no high stakes, nothing riding on you and your ability to perform. It was just fun. Passion. A passion you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to let go of. 

“I want to do the next show.” You say, without a trace of reservation. She smiles softly, looking down at you. She hasn’t seen you like this, so much like yourself, in years. You’re glowing and at peace, and she has never, ever been happier to see it. After everything the two of you have been through, the divorce - and the events leading up to it - she remembers this is what she’s been fighting for, the goal she’s been working toward; seeing you happy and thriving. She had a hunch that high school theatre was exactly what you needed, and now she thanks her lucky stars she was right.  

You don’t talk about what you’re going to do after the next show, it’s not quite time to worry about that yet. There’s no need to rush anything, especially when it comes to stuff like this. You’re sure that when it comes time to make a decision, you’ll know in your heart what the right one will be. But even just from looking at you, even if you don’t know yet, your mom has another hunch that you’ll be back in New York, lighting up every stage on Broadway at some point. She presses a kiss to your forehead, rubbing your back again as you finally, reluctantly place your playbill in the open hat box in front of you. 

“Try to get some rest, sweetie.” 

She goes off to bed, and now you really have nothing to do. You sigh as you organize your hat boxes back on the top shelf of your closet, in the order you usually keep them in. You look around, deciding to clean your room. You run down to the kitchen to get a trash bag, then return to your room. You dig through all the scented candles you’ve been hoarding and pick out a nice smelling one to light, then put something on Netflix for some background noise. You start by folding your laundry, then pick up any stray trash. Usually cleaning your room gives you time to think, but you’re not really thinking much of anything now. You’re grateful for the break. 

You move from task to task, losing track of time as Netflix continues to autoplay. You pause what you’re doing for a second, trying to figure out why two characters are arguing. You’ve barely been paying attention, but are still managing to follow the plot for the most part. During that moment of stillness, you hear your phone buzz with a text. You pick it up, shocked at how late it is, how quickly the time got away from you. It also makes you wonder who could be texting you so late. It’s Ricky. That makes sense, you think. You wonder what he’s doing up so late as you open the message. 

You set your phone on the windowsill, then head towards your closet to try and make some sense of it. You’re not sure how it got to be such a hot mess - in all fairness, it’s not really that messy. You just need a project to work on. You straighten up your hanging clothes, refold all your jeans and folded sweaters, then reorganize it by color. Or maybe cut. You’re not sure yet. You make a mental note to rewatch Tidying Up with Marie Kondo later for more ideas. 

You decide to revisit that in a few minutes, instead turning to all the pillows and blankets hidden on the floor of your closet. You adjust them, remembering the first time you’d shown your nap hole to Ricky. Your mind wanders idly, recounting all the things that have happened since then. You really hope that in spite of everything, Ricky had a good time performing. A part of you really hopes he’s going to do more shows. He’s so talented, and he has so much natural potential. After what he’s been through, it would make total sense if he never wanted to do theatre again, but a part of you silently hopes that he’s grown to love it the way you do. 

Thunk. 

You turn your head suddenly, wondering if you’d imagined the small noise. You glance back at the window, and see you left your phone there. You figure it was a notification or something. When you press the power button to check, you’re met with the words no new notifications on your lock screen. 

Thunk.

Something moves in the corner of your vision, followed by another noise, then another.

Thunk- crack! 

Your brow furrows as you stare at the hairline fracture left in the glass of your window. You try to peer down, but it’s so dark you can’t really see anything. You open your window up wide, lifting the latch and popping out the screen. You lean your head out just enough to look down, but it’s still too dark. You turn on your phone flashlight and hold tight to your popsocket, angling the beam down, only to be met with Ricky. 

He’s holding a small plastic bag and a handful of rocks to throw until he gets your attention. He waves up at you awkwardly, and you laugh, covering your mouth to not make too much noise. It sounds beautiful. Everything you do is always so beautiful, he’s not sure why he’s still surprised when you take his breath away effortlessly. His stomach twists for a moment, and he hopes he gives you butterflies like you give him all the time. He looks up at you, and leaning down from your window like this, he thinks you’d make a really good Juliet. He’s not sure if you’ve done any Shakespeare before, but he makes a mental note to ask. 

You watch from above as he holds the plastic bag in his mouth and starts climbing up the tree next to your house. You lose sight of him for a moment, until he reappears on the lattice on the side of your house. He’s careful not to disturb the ivy slowly growing its way up in spite of the cold weather. You laugh in disbelief, watching him climb through your window until he’s standing in front of you. It feels like something out of a movie, and your heart is pounding in your chest. 

“You could have used the door…” you laugh. 

“Well,” he shrugs, “I wanted to shake it up a little.” He smiles at you, pulling something out of the bag. 

“I brought you coffee.” He pulls a to go cup out of the bag, handing it to you. He’s hopeful it will make you happy, and the way your eyes light up when you accept the drink is worth the stranger looks he got from the barista for ordering espresso at 11 at night. He takes out his drink, throwing the empty plastic bag in your garbage. You look up at him with those pretty eyes and his stomach flips. You move closer, pressing a kiss to his lips, one he leans into. 

“Thanks,” you say after pulling away, sending him the most blinding, dazzling smile. He’s been inside you more times than he can count, and your kisses still make his head all fuzzy. He lets out a soft laugh, feeling a little high from your attention. He sits on your bed, watching you as you sit backwards on your desk chair. You both sip your drinks, and it’s quiet for a moment. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask. He lets out a breathy laugh, surprised at how well you can read him. 

“It… still feels weird not being at rehearsal.” he says, thinking out loud. You nod in silent understanding of everything left unsaid. You chuckle lightly.

“Yeah, post show depression will really kick your ass.” He laughs, feeling called out at your words. 

“Yeah…” he agrees. When Nini dumped him, he felt like there was a sinkhole in his chest. Then after that, when she left, when she just walked out on him and his dad, he felt like he was going to cave in. Then he met you. You didn’t make him stop missing her or Nini, but you gave him something to lean on. You helped him realize he had something else to think about - the show. Now he doesn’t think about Nini nearly as much as he used to; that wound is starting to heal. As for the other thing, long as he doesn’t let himself think about her or Todd, as long as he keeps moving, he’s sort of okay. 

But now he’s feeling a new kind of emptiness. He doesn’t like goodbyes, he never has, so even though he knew closing night would be hard, he didn’t expect it to hurt this much. He didn’t expect himself to grow so familiar with the soundtrack and the script, running lines and remembering blocking. He didn’t expect to miss being called Troy so much. 

“I didn’t ever expect to love theatre, or love you, as much as I do,” he muses. You glance down, face flushed from his words. He gives you butterflies so effortlessly, it’s really amazing. 

“I love you too,” you smile, taking another sip of your drink. He giggles - actually giggles - at your words. 

“So,” you continue, “you liked it? Doing the show, I mean. I know there were some ups and downs but-” 

“I loved it.”

He smiles, and you both laugh, light and bubbling over your shared adoration of each other and the experiences you just shared. 

"I really, really loved it." He breathes, distracted for a moment as he remembers it all. "I just… I didn't expect to be so sad after?" 

You spin a little in your seat, taking another sip as you listen. 

"Like, I spent so much time learning how to become Troy, learning all the lines and blocking and choreo and now I'm never going to get to do that again."

"Yeah," you agree, looking down. "I mean, that's the beauty of theatre; it's always fleeting, but there's always going to be another show."

You can see him soaking in your words, really letting them in. It doesn't mitigate his sadness, but you don't expect it to. You get up from where you’re spinning side to side on your desk chair and sit next to him on your bed, placing your coffee on the night table. You wrap your arm around him, resting your head on his shoulder. You don’t say anything, and you don’t need to. Your presence is more comforting than words could be. Maybe it’s the sweet smell of your peachy perfume, maybe it’s the way you’re so consistent in his life, but he’s reminded in a rush of the first night you spent together. Memories replay like flashbacks in his mind, and after a moment, he turns his head toward you. 

His face is so close to yours, and it’s obvious what he’s thinking from the bedroom eyes he’s giving you, flicking between yours and your lips. It happens so suddenly, your heart barely has time to pound before he’s pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. Ricky needs a distraction from the ache in his chest. He needs something else to do, something else to think about, something else that makes him happy. He can’t think of something better to focus on than you. He deepens the kiss as you hold on to him tight, loving the way you always melt under his touch. You sigh against him, giggling as he works your lips open, slipping his tongue into your mouth. 

He climbs on top of you as his hands move down. He takes his time, feeling you up, obsessing over every part of you until he gets to your thighs. He gropes your pretty thighs that he wants so badly to put his face between, not missing the way you were squirming a moment ago, already needy for some friction. He slots himself between your legs as he presses kisses into your neck, adoring the pretty sighs and noises you let out. He squeezes your thighs in his hands, before pulling you flat on your back with him hovering on top of you. The sudden change in position makes your heart race, and you can feel your cunt getting hot and puffy with arousal. The expression on your face makes it so worth it, he thinks, watching it grow even more flustered as he moves down. He pulls off your shirt and presses kisses between your tits. He plays with them, squeezing and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples in little circles. No matter how many times he sees them, it always feels like the first time, when all he could say was Wow. Oh my god. Wow. You let out a choked noise at the feeling, one he reciprocates, moaning into the soft flesh he has in his mouth.

“Fuck, Ricky…” you breathe, watching him closely as he moves down, trailing kisses along your stomach, squeezing your waist and hips, finally tugging off your bottoms. He trails his fingers over your panties for a moment, taking in how pretty they look on you, how much he loves to see that little wet spot growing bigger and bigger. He throbs as he takes them off, and you watch with wide eyes as he opens your legs a bit more. 

“There we go,” he says softly, and your pussy pulses in anticipation of his touch. He spreads you open, taking a moment to take in how pretty your pussy is, how nice you look all spread open for him like this. It’s a shorter moment than he would have liked, he just can’t resist you, he can’t wait to press soft kisses to your heat, to flick his tongue over your clit, to make you feel good. He won’t wait any longer, doing just that, listening to every noise that escapes your pretty lips like a breathtaking song. He traces a finger around your dripping hole, fluttering and desperate for contact. 

As he works his first finger in, he can't help but feel like he's home. You're so tight around just one finger, he wonders how you're always able to take all of him. The thought makes his stomach flutter with anticipation. He pumps his finger in and out gently, feeling you get wetter around him as you get used to the sensation. He continues licking and sucking on your clit, pulsing in his mouth, as he does. You taste amazing, and he wants more and more. 

"Fuck, Ricky…" you sigh, and it's like music to his ears. He pushes his second finger in, and moans against your clit as he feels your tight walls stretch and relax to accommodate him. You let out a sharp gasp, throbbing erratically against his tongue. He scissors his fingers, breath hitching as you stretch around him. 

“Oh my god,” you choke out in a breathy sigh, “Ricky…” 

He loses all his progress as you clamp around him, bucking into his mouth as you cum around his fingers. He pauses for a moment, dizzy from the sensation, that he did that to you, made you feel that good. You tug on his hair, and before you can even ask, he knows. You want more of him, want him inside you. He climbs up on top of you. You tear his clothes off, throwing them on the floor, not wanting to waste a moment. His cock throbs, almost painfully hard, and he can’t wait any longer. He needs to be inside you more than anything. He lets out a jagged sigh, pumping his cock in anticipation. He’s so ready, more ready than he’s ever been to be welcomed back into your wet, hot, tight embrace. 

He finally begins to nudge his cock inside you. He chokes at how easily it goes in, how you seem to pull him deeper and deeper inside you. You’re ready for him, even more so than usual from how hard he made you cum a few minutes before. He can feel you suck him up inside you, gripping and squeezing him just right. Each time you let him inside, each time you let him stretch out your perfect, dripping cunt, it always feels unimaginably better than the last. Every single time, he thinks that this, you, have to be the best he’ll ever have. And every single time, he’s right. You feel so good, so indescribably good, a part of him wants to cum right on the spot. 

“Fuck, I love you…” He chokes out, voice breathy. And he means it. God, does he mean it. He says it right as he pushes his cock inside you, filling you up in the most delicious way, knocking the breath out of your lungs in tandem. You try to say it back, you want to say it back, but his tongue is already shoved down your throat as he covers your mouth with deeper and deeper kisses. He’s insatiable, not ever getting as much of you as he needs to satisfy what he’s craving. 

He starts moving, unable to wait, unable to stop himself from pistoning his cock as deep inside you as he can get it. He drags his cock against your gummy walls, the friction already making you both dizzy. He keeps going, rutting his hips into yours, moaning into your mouth. He cages you in with his arms, resting his hands on your cheeks as he gazes into your eyes. He’s so in love with you, so fucking in love with you. You’re… his world. You’re his everything. Everything he does revolves around you; he’s not the main character in his story, you are. 

He would move mountains for you, overcome anything, travel any distance just for you, to be in your arms. He loves you so much it almost hurts, and he knows he’s never felt more relief than he did on opening night, when he finally, finally told you everything he feels for you. He was so sick of biting it back, of worrying about timing, if you would say it back, if he could even say it at all. He can’t remember ever being happier than he was when he finally said fuck it, and spilled his guts to you. Right here, right now, he can feel the little bulge he’s making in your tummy. He can feel where your bodies are touching and squishing together, and he can feel you wrap your legs around him to pull him even closer. He didn’t think he could be any more crazy over you than he already is, but all of this, all of you is driving him to even higher heights than he could imagine. 

It’s overwhelming, and he moans, long and low into your mouth. There’s no other way to express what you make him feel than through his beautiful moans, like music to your ears, or telling you that he loves you every chance he gets, with his last breath he’ll be telling you again and again. He presses kisses to your cheek, moving down to your neck, taking in your sweet scent. God, he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anyone this badly. He doesn’t think he’s wanted anyone or anything as much as he wants you. He’s so attracted to you, drawn to you in an almost primal way that leaves him rutting his hips into yours, grinding into your clit to get as close as possible, moaning shamelessly into your neck. It sends jolts of electricity through you, lighting you up like a powergrid. 

His breath hits your skin in steady, warm puffs. He lets out another moan as you scratch your nails down his back. Your hand tangles in his hair and tugs it just right, making him throb inside you. He knows in this moment that no one can ever make him feel this good, no one else can do what you do to him. He can feel himself getting closer and closer as he sucks bruises into your neck, leaving constellations of love bites across your perfect skin. Even though he’s holding you as tight as he can, drawing noises out of you that no one else has had the privilege of hearing, and it makes his head spin, he needs more. 

He finally pulls away from your neck, resting his forehead against yours. You lean up to kiss him, and even though he’s aching for you, he doesn't kiss you. Not quite yet. Instead, he looks into your eyes so deeply, so intensely, with such a burning hunger that you feel like you’re being fused together. He’s still panting, this time your warm breaths fan over each other’s faces as he really soaks in everything about you, how pretty you look in his arms like this - and fuck, you’re pretty. 

“I’m close, peach,” he pants, sending even more heat to your core, making you squeeze around him as he presses a burning kiss to your lips; one you accept eagerly.  

“‘M so close,” he says again between kisses, “Can- fuck- can you say it for me? Can you tell me? Please, peach, I need to hear it, need to hear you say it…” he rambles, drunk on you and p=-

You’re trying your best, but it would be a lot easier if everything he was saying and doing didn’t render you breathless and unable to do anything but moan and writhe beneath him. 

“I love you, Ricky,” you choke out, desperate and sincere. You finally connect your lips, only for him to moan into your mouth. It’s loud and shameless and has you teetering on the precipice. “Love you so much, so fucking much,” you continue to babble as he buries his face in your neck, moaning so much he almost can’t register what you’re saying. He’s glad you’re saying it anyway. 

He can barely register how close he is before he cums. It’s hard and sudden, and he’s barely able to hear your sweet words over the blood pounding in his ears. You let out a noise he thought only existed in porn, following closely behind him. Your legs shake around him as you grab him as tight as you can, desperate for something to hold onto. You squeeze him in a vice grip as you let out the most beautiful whines and moans, and it’s enough to make him dizzy. Just your noises alone are almost enough to make him hard again - which he probably would be, if you hadn’t just milked his cock completely dry. You stay like that for a moment, letting yourself be filled up with him, letting himself be squeezed tight by your throbbing walls. He can feel your heartbeat in your soft cunt, and he lets out a shuddering sigh at the feeling. He mutters sweet nothings into your ear, rambling about every good thing he feels for you. He doesn’t think he could shut up if he tried - he usually can’t when it comes to you. He presses more and more kisses to your skin as you mutter sweet nothings back, rubbing your hand over the red marks you’d left on his back, playing with his hair. You take your time coming down from this, letting yourselves be right here and now, in each other’s arms. 

Eventually, he pulls out more reluctantly than he’s done anything. You manage to clean up enough to fall back into bed, into each other’s arms. In those few moments, you glance around at the several unfinished cleaning tasks you’d started earlier. You shrug them off, telling yourself you’ll finish them later. As you’re welcomed into Ricky’s warm embrace, you think this is way more fun than cleaning anyway. 

You settle into each other, getting comfortable as he holds you tight against his chest. You can feel the steady rise and fall of each other’s breathing, your heartbeats gradually slowing back down, the warmth pooling between you. In the quiet air surrounding you, you can feel the calm turn into a sort of melancholy. You trace your fingers over his skin as he takes solace in you. Everything about you is so comforting, he can’t deny that you’re what’s kept him as centered as he’s been able to be. 

“Where do we go from here?” he asks.

His voice is quiet, breaking ripples into the glassy silence surrounding you, but you can hear the emotion wavering through it. You’re quiet for a moment, considering. You’re not quite sure if he means him and you, him and his dad, or the next audition. It doesn’t matter, you realize, because you’ll have his back through all of it. And he’ll have yours. 

“I dunno,” you start gently, and he holds onto your words, cherishing them like heirlooms, “but I do know one thing. Miss Jenn is announcing the next show in a few days, on New Year’s Eve. So, we should probably start thinking about audition music.” 

Just the briefest mention of auditions has him smiling at the memories from a few months ago, bursting in late with his guitar. At the time, he had only ever expected to remember that audition as the day he won Nini back. He never could have predicted what a different, more significant weight that would hold for him now. The mention of New Year’s Eve brings something else to mind as well. 

“Ashlyn’s having a New Year’s party, right?” 

“Yes!” you exclaim softly, “I totally forgot about that…” 

Ricky traces his thumb over your cheek as you discuss carpools and if you should bring drinks or cupcakes. He never knew he could feel this way, this warm, just from listening to someone talk. He doesn’t know what happens next. He doesn’t know what’s going to change, but he thinks he can handle it if he has you. He’s so wrapped up in you, so invested in the quiet little conversation you’re now having about sheet music and party outfits that he doesn’t notice his phone buzzing in the pocket of his jeans, strewn across your floor. After a moment it lights up with a new notification. 

1 missed call from Dr. Robert (therapist)

1 new voicemail from Dr. Robert (therapist) 

[mrsvalbaker]

Amberline

Disclaimer: This story is going to be dedicated to a very good friend of mine, why she thinks I'm good enough to let me write a character for her, I dunno.

This a Kyle Scheible x OC, there's definitely smut, adult situations, all high school characters are portrayed by adults. There's mention of eating disorder.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Part I

Sacramento High School was no longer a public school.

This year it was changed to a charter due to its very low performance.

To be honest, this town is now poor or rich, and I fall into the latter as my mother loves to remind me. It's why I've been babysitting since I was twelve, and why this past summer I was working at a doughnut stand at a fair, and this school year I'll be working at Blockbusters.

College doesn't pay for itself, and mom made it no secret that she wasn't going to donate one red cent, why should she even though my babysitting and doughnut money go toward the nice apartment we live in and toward her payments for her Lexus she can hardly afford.

I don't even have a car, and does she ever drive me to work or school? No, it's my bicycle or a bus.

She's one of those southern women that always drone on about earning things, telling me life ain't easy and I best get a grasp of that early, especially since I'll be joining the rich kids of Sacramento for my senior year.

Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic High School is so graciously funded by Charlene Sixkiller, my dearest mother. She said it'll help me get to a good school. I'm truly grateful, but I feel so pressured, I feel like school and me leaving at eighteen is all we talk about at home.

I don't even know what I want to do.

Like fuck.

I love writing but my mom says that it doesn't pay the bills. It's a big reason why she won't help me with college, because I'm choosing to be an English Major.

Okay so maybe I do know what I want to do with my life.

I write gothic novels, a cross between horror and romance. I'm not very good at it but I love writing, between that and my diary it's the only way I can actually express myself.

-

It's awkward going to Catholic school and you're not a catholic, mom was brought up southern Baptist, and I hardly know a damn thing about my dad. Although he's probably the same, being from the same area.

I've only been to my mom's hometown of Rocky Mountain, North Carolina five times in my life, and every single time I count the hours for when we return to California.

My dream school is UCLA. It's hard as hell to get into, but going to this school will help. L.A. is far enough from central California where I won't have to deal with my mom again, and besides my dad's there. Maybe I can find him, ask him why I wasn't worth sticking around for.

My alarm clock blared Good Charlotte throughout my room. With a long groan and a painful stretch, I literally threw myself out of bed.

Dragged myself to the bathroom and pulled myself into the shower. I know being goth at a catholic school is going to be a total nightmare, but I was still Gung ho on making a good first impression. I washed my hair twice with the fruity smell of my Garnier shampoo and conditioner. Then massaged my loreal color mask into my waist length black hair before combing it through and clipping it up on top of my head.

My acne is starting to clear up but there's still some stubborn blemishes on my cheek. I washed my face with a morning burst about four times before using the scrub, why did I have to have problematic skin? Between acne, my fat ass and my boobs, I felt like there were twenty signs to point out how much of an ugly freak I am. I still tried though, some days I didn't think I looked bad, but days like today…

I scrubbed my skin with my electric apple lathered loofah until it was red and raw, and then rinsed my hair mask. I turned on the radio and brushed my teeth to the new Red Hot Chilli Peppers song By the Way, my eyes gazed with judgment at my reflection. How shall I fix myself today? I was getting over an eating disorder from last year, this weight is new to me. My doctor said I looked great, but sometimes I see a dancing hippopotamus in fantasia.

I rubbed Ponds onto my face and Bath and body works toasted hazelnut lotion on my skin. I sprayed my Secret powdery deodorant on. Blowing drying my waist length, ebony hair took a half an hour and that was me rushing. I sealed it with my Garnier serum and then did my makeup, far too much black eyeliner just past the point of you have gone too far, and cherry chapstick.

I pulled on my black panties and bra before pulling on the gray pleated school skirt I was forced to wear, I felt like a soldier preparing for war. The white buttoned down shirt was tucked in and I threw on my black zipper hoodie leaving it unzipped. I pulled on black knee high socks and scrunched them down before tying on my doc martens oxfords. I shoved on my many bracelets from a Hot Topic haul and made sure my black, stretchy choker constricted my neck. I brushed my hair down one more time and sprayed on my Victoria's Secret love spell body spray I got for my last birthday. I looked at myself, the kohl making my green eyes pop like I was on something. I wouldn't call myself hideous, just not pretty, not enough.

I wasn't enough for my old friends, when I was found passed out in the girl's bathroom everything changed. Nobody wanted me around, Alyssa and Taylor stopped sitting with me at lunch, and Alyssa started dating my crush Zach. They all acted like we never met.

But I was always the one who brought the least to the group. If I couldn't make it to a Marilyn Manson concert, they still went, but when Alyssa had the flu and couldn't make it to Disneyland, everyone canceled.

I was the one who was everyone's shoulder to cry on, at twelve I taught Taylor how to use pads and take motrin when she got her period, I told Zach he was good at drums, and anytime Alyssa had guy troubles it was me who lost sleep talking to her until 3am on the phone, it was me who bought her Häagen-Dazs and watched her stupid guilty pleasure show with her, Sex and the city, it was me who washed her hair and ran her a bath.

But it was never enough. Who knows, maybe I'm not meant to be happy. It's not in the cards for me I think.

The main reason for starting fresh and going to a new school wasn't just about college. It was so I wouldn't have to see the faces of the people who were supposed to be my best friends in the whole world, and couldn't get off their asses to visit me in the hospital.

I put my headphones and placed my Simple Plan CD into my player and turned it on blast.

Mom already left for work, she wasn't the kind of mother to prepare me a big breakfast for my first day. I grabbed an apple and granola bar and left to go catch the bus, getting catcalled on the way by guys old enough to be my dad.

Getting on that school bus was what you expected, the kids caught a look at the girl with black hair and equally black eyeliner and snicker or get out my way faster than a bat out of hell.

I sat in the very back next to a girl with shoulder length, dirty blonde hair pushed back by a headband that matched her gray school skirt.

She started talking to me, I saw her mouth move but couldn't hear one word. What is wrong with her? Can't she see that I'm wearing headphones? I wanted to ignore her so badly but I could not be rude to save my life. So I tapped the pause button with a black nail and pushed my headphones down before looking at her. "Can I help you?"

She smiled and laughed. "I was just saying you're new, I've never seen you before."

She wanted to bother me for that? I smiled though. "Yes, you're right. How perceptive of you."

The girl just laughed. "I'm Gretchen, I go to Mary's too, what grade are you in?"

"I'm a senior."

"Me too! We're the only seniors on the bus, did you know that?"

Thank you Gretchen for making me feel like such a loser.

The bus ride consisted of Gretchen asking for my entire autobiography. Was she a news reporter or something? All she got out of me was that I went to Sacramento High, which she made a snobby face at, and that I didn't leave behind any friends.

Once we got off of the bus, she didn't leave me alone. She was telling me about everyone who went to our school. I nodded along without paying attention but couldn't find the heart to be mean. I mean she's taking the time to get to know me and be my own personal tour guide.

"Amberline is a really strange name." She said suddenly.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I'll change it when I get the chance."

She laughed and I held back the urge to roll my eyes. "I'll just call you Amber, come on Amber I'll take you to morning mass?"

"Morning mass?"

She nodded. "It's a catholic school of course."

I followed her to the chapel, it was all very beautiful and sacred looking. Pairs and pairs of eyes focused on me though, and I noticed boys filing in, which confused me since this was an all girls school. I asked Gretchen about it.

"The boys school shares certain things with us like the chapel for morning mass." Then Gretchen gasped and whispered loudly to me. "Oh there he is!"

"Who?" I asked with confusion, she was acting hysterical.

"Kyle Scheible!"

Walking in the line of boys to the priest was a boy far too handsome to be in high school, but you could clearly tell he is in fact in high school. Is he the usual ghostly pale and manic panic black haired with piercings type I go for? No, he was so much better than that. Something I thought I'd never say.

I can't believe that I can actually understand Gretchen's state of hysteria, but I do.

He has hooded, sleepy looking dark green eyes, with flecks of Hazel, I saw this as he walked by me. His lashes were poetically long and his nose pronounced beautifully. His lips were drawn in a pout that matched his careless posture of hands buried in the pockets of his khakis, which should have taken away how hot he is but it didn't.

His hair, God his hair needed the attention of my fingers combing through the dark chocolate curls. He wore it longish in a poetic way, his lean physique made him look taller, and he has the sort of neck you just know smells so good.

And because Gretchen isn't that great of a whisperer, he did look over. It was a lazy look over at first, like he was used to these whispers of him, which he probably was. But then his lazily droopy eyes popped open and bit when looking over at us. At me.

Oh no, oh God he was looking over at me? I immediately felt self conscious, what if he notices my breakouts? What if he finds my nose strange or finds me annoying looking? It's a catholic school. What if my look was too Crucible for him? Why did this guy who I don't know, opinion matter so much to me?

He looked at me, he really looked at me– Oh God, he stepped out of line to walk over straight to me. I could barely hear Gretchen's panicking, it was just me and him in this place of worship. Someone whispered how Kyle never approaches anyone.

He then stood over me, my eyes widened a bit and a hardly there smirk painted his pursed lips. His dead eyes swept over me, and in a lazy voice he asked, "Do you smoke?"

"Yes."

I don't know why I said it, I've never touched cigarettes in my life and I've only had one beer when I decided alcohol wasn't for me. But for this mystery boy, I thoughtlessly said yes.

"I mean no, I lied, I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." I said breathlessly. Why was I out of breath?"

Kyle just…smiled at me, it looked foreign on his lips like he wasn't used to it. "What's your name?" His voice was musically calm.

I opened my mouth to answer but I was up next to bite the wafer and sip the wine. I didn't hear from Kyle for the rest of the day.

@meetmyothersouls

[hippiegoth97]

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

Banner by me :)

Master List

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

Word Count: 12.5k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Diary Entry #1: Martin Brenner

May 28th, 1983

Dear diary,

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

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

May 29th, 1983

Dear diary,

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

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

June 1st, 1983

Dear diary,

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

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

June 15th, 1983

Dear diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

June 26th, 1983

Dear diary,

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

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

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

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

June 30th, 1983

Dear diary,

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

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

July 8th, 1983

Dear diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Martin thinks it over for a moment, contemplating that you could potentially be a really good time. But he shakes his head, sighing deeply. He can't possibly take such a young woman home. It wouldn't be right...would it? "I-I'm flattered, Y/N, really." He sets the records down, taking hold of your hands. "But I don't think I could give you what you're after." He says sadly, already kicking himself for denying his desire to have you. He's been thinking about it for weeks, but he's sure you couldn't handle what he truly has in mind.

"Why do you say that?" Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. You were sure this would work. Doesn't he like you? Doesn't he think you're pretty?

"Forgive me for coming off a bit crude, here. But I'm just not sure that you're mature enough to handle the kinds of things I'm into, intimately speaking." You're confused by his words, you don't understand what he means by that.

"And how would you know?" You ask, becoming irritated with him for thinking you're some immature girl. He scoffs, surprised by you.

"I guess I don't, Y/N. But I wouldn't want to hurt you. I really like you. I think you're very pretty, and sweet. I'm just not sure it's a good idea." He shakes his head again, putting your hands down before pulling his own away.

"Well...maybe I'm not afraid to get hurt, Martin." You smile again, his attempts to deter your interest have only piqued it further. "It's very simple, really. I want to sleep with you. I don't care what you're into, I got up to some pretty crazy shit in high school. But if you really don't want me, that's fine. I can find someone else if I really want to." You figure there's no use for formalities at this point, so you lay it all out for him. The ball is in his court now, it's only a matter of if he wants to play.

He sighs again, still unsure of what to do here. "You make it very difficult to say no to you..." He says, pausing as he reads your expression. He supposes it can't be all bad, you're the one coming on to him. If you really want this, then who is he to deny you? "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want, Y/N?" He asks, cupping your cheek like he does in your dreams.

"Yes, I want this more than anything." You reply breathlessly, unable to believe this may actually happen. There's a tense moment of silence between you, and he finally nods in agreement.

"Alright. What time are you finished here?" Martin asks.

"Nine o'clock." You answer, biting your lip in excitement.

"Perfect, I'll pick you up. In the meantime, would you mind ringing me up for these?" He smiles, picking up the records you've chosen for him.

"Okay." You practically skip over to the register, though you don't really want him to leave. You bag up his purchase, and he makes his way out onto the street. You'd been hoping for a goodbye kiss, though perhaps that would've been too weird. You glance over at the clock, finding that you have two whole hours left before closing time. You pick up your novel, but you find it hard to focus on the words. All you can think about is what Martin could possibly like in bed that he thinks would be 'too much' for you. Handcuffs? Been there. Whips? Done that. Spanking? Roleplay? Anal? Check, check, and check. High schoolers are way kinkier than anyone gives them credit for. You can't come up with anything else, so if anything, you'll show Martin just how well you can keep up. You hope that'll impress him, for some reason.

The time passes excruciatingly slow, but thankfully a few more customers come along to distract you for a while. You make four more sales before the shift is over, not too bad for a record store in a less-than-booming small-town downtown area. You gather your things at 9pm on the dot, and head for the door with keys in hand. You step out into the muggy night air, turning your back to the street while you lock the door to the shop. You suddenly feel a figure behind you, who extends a hand to grab hold of your waist. You jump and let out a small scream, whipping around to see who it is.

"Shit, Martin! You scared me!" You say once you see that it's just your new conquest who's been waiting for you.

"I'm sorry. Are you ready to go?" Martin asks, slowly pulling you into him by the hip. He takes a second to get a good look at you, as if he hadn't already done so while you were helping him in the shop. He finds you to be very alluring, in your Cyndi Lauper t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, and the short skirt that barely covers your behind. Not to mention your beautiful face, without a single blemish or sign of age to be found.

"Ready when you are, Martin." You reply suggestively, running your hands up and down along his shirt again. Your touch seems to break him out of his trance, and he turns the two of you to head towards his car. It's slick, and black, with a driver and everything. "Nice wheels." You comment, sliding into the seat while the driver holds the door open for you.

"Thank you." Martin replies smoothly, getting in after you. He sits very close to you, and the driver closes the door behind him.

"So, where does a man like you live around here, hm?" You ask coyly, putting your hand on his thigh. He peers down at you, watching your every move. You've noticed he's pretty restrained overall, very methodical with his movements and reactions.

"Oh, it's a humble house, really. Not far from here." Martin replies, and you nod.

"'Humble', huh? Does your job not pay you enough to have a large house and a driver?" You giggle, bringing your hand a little further up his leg. "I guess I never asked, what do you do for work, exactly?" You question curiously.

"I work in government, at the Lab." He replies shortly, too focused on your hand growing closer to his crotch. You're so forward with him, it's kind of throwing him off.

"Oh, I see. I bet that's pretty interesting." You continue on your teasing journey towards his cock. You want to feel him, and play around a bit before you reach his home. You've always had a problem with patience.

"You could say that." He says, just as your fingertips brush against his length. You smirk in satisfaction at finding it, and boldly take hold of it. His throat catches at you groping him, and you find his eyes to see how he's doing. His mouth sits slightly agape, but he doesn't say or do much else. You think he's enjoying this, since he's growing in your hand. But you'd be hard pressed to know for sure.

"Does this feel good, Martin?" You ask quietly, not wanting the driver to hear.

"Y-Yes." He stutters. You continue to touch him over his clothes, becoming very wet yourself as you watch him hold back his noises. He lets out muted sighs as opposed to moans and grunts, but the sound is still more than enough to turn you on further. "We should be there soon, Y/N." He says, taking your hand away from his cock, holding it in his instead.

"Sorry." You apologize, realizing that you've possibly made him uncomfortable.

"Don't be. It's alright. Just be patient for me. Can you do that, Y/N?" He says lowly in your ear, sending a chill up your spine. You nod silently, but he needs to hear you answer. "Use your words." He commands in a husky tone, sending a flare of pleasure between your legs. Now I see what he was talking about. Lucky for him, I've played this game many times before.

"Yes, I'll be patient." You answer breathlessly.

"Good girl." He answers simply, smirking at your quick obedience. Maybe you can handle him after all.

...and there we were, off to his house to have sex. I swear, I kept having to pinch myself to make sure it was actually happening, and not some extremely elaborate dream. But every time I felt that little sting of my nails digging into my flesh, all I was doing was driving myself even more crazy. That little confirmation of reality repeated again and again, made me feel all tingly inside. We couldn't get to his home soon enough, I wanted to touch every inch of his body in the back of that car. But I had to be patient, because that's what he told me to do. I could feel it in my soul that disobeying him would have been a very unwise decision...

"Here we are. Home sweet home." Martin says as the car pulls up to a house on the end of a dimly lit street. It's unassuming, the basic 'white-picket-fence' home of the typical middle class worker. It's not unlike your own house, perhaps slightly smaller. But you suppose a single man with a young kid doesn't need very much space. Your mind turns to his daughter, Jane. You wonder if she's home, and if she'll be upset that daddy brought home some random girl.

"Is your daughter home?" You ask nervously.

"No, no. She's at a friend's house tonight. Don't worry, we'll be all alone." He chuckles at your concern, he finds it very sweet.

"Oh, okay. Good, I'd hate to have upset her." You reply, waiting for the driver to open the door to let you both out.

"I appreciate that, Y/N. But please, I'd hate for the evening to focus on Jane. Especially when I've brought such a beautiful young woman home with me." He says warmly, gently pulling you along as he steps out of the vehicle. He leads you to stand upright, and you both walk to the front door. He unlocks it, letting you inside. The interior is exactly as you expect, a warm little house for two little people. Children's drawings on the refrigerator, kitschy trinkets on shelves and cabinets, probably left over from his deceased wife. That thought makes you a little sad, though it quickly disappears when Martin wraps his arms around you from behind once he's closed the door.

"Hey there, handsome." You giggle, leaning back into him for a moment. "I love your home, it's very cozy."

"I'm glad you think so, Y/N. It does get a little lonely sometimes." He speaks softly, lowering his head to press a kiss to your neck. You sigh blissfully at finally having his lips on you, they're very warm and soft.

"Well, hopefully I can help with that. At least for tonight." You reply, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. He responds well to this offer, planting more blazing kisses to your throat. He doesn't nip or suck your flesh, which would usually disappoint you. But the way he's holding you close like this makes it feel just as passionate. His hands wander up your body, palms brushing over your shirt. He stops just below your breasts, apprehensive to venture further. "Go ahead, Martin. I want this." You murmur, turning your head to look back at him. He seems different now, the air between you has changed. The atmosphere has become charged with expectation and anxiousness, and you can feel his erection prodding against your ass. He resumes his journey upwards, carefully cupping your tits over your shirt. You let out a quiet moan, gazing at him as you do so. He smiles at the sound, pressing a little harder with his hands to earn another one.

"Shall we take this upstairs?" He asks lowly, and you nod. He lets you out of his grip, stepping ahead of you. He takes your hand, leading you up the steps to his bedroom. You pass a quaint bathroom, and what looks like a kid's room along the way. You don't bother to take more than a small peek inside, you'd hate to come off nosey. Martin takes you to a room at the end of the hallway, pushing the door open to reveal the master bedroom. It's still as warm and cozy as the rest of the house, dressed in those signature hues of yellow, orange, and brown left over from the 1970s. He gestures for you to sit on the bed, and you take a seat on the edge of it. You take your shoes off, and he removes his suit jacket.

"So, what's this strange 'thing' you're into, Martin?" You ask curiously, setting your bag down on the night table beside you.

"You'll see soon enough. But I'd like to...get to know you a little bit first." Martin answers, giving you a look while undoing his tie. He loosens the knot around his collar, before slipping the loop over his head and untying it entirely. "Have you ever been tied up before?" He asks, holding the ends of the tie in his hands with purpose.

"Yes." You reply simply. He nods, bringing the tie over to the bed. He lays it out neatly beside you, presumably to be used later. "Should I...take my clothes off?" You ask, becoming a little unsure of yourself.

"Not yet. I'll tell you when and how to do everything. Is that alright?" He speaks firmly, expecting you to agree.

"Yeah, that's fine." You say casually. You watch as he hangs up his jacket, and methodically takes off his shoes before placing them neatly in his closet. He comes over to you, sitting beside you on the bed now.

"You're very beautiful, Y/N." Martin says, brushing a loose hair behind your ear.

"Thanks." You blush, looking down at your feet. He puts a finger under your chin, bringing your head up to face him again.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes. Please." You reply, you've been waiting for him to do this for a very long time. He brings his face closer to yours, and your eyes flutter closed in preparation. His lips meet yours, and you immediately melt against him. "Mmm." You hum into the kiss, following his small movements. He doesn't use tongue, you suppose he's a bit old-fashioned that way. But you don't mind, he's still a very good kisser. He pulls away, taking your breath with him.

"Take off your shirt, please." He orders politely, clearing his throat. You do as he asks, pulling the garment over your head and tossing it to the floor. You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to make his next move. "Pick it up and fold it." He says, a serious look on his face.

"Oh. Sorry." You laugh nervously, bending down to pick up the shirt. You follow his instructions, holding in neatly in your lap now.

"Now, put it on the table." He says. You do, and he smiles again. "Good girl." You face him again, wondering what he's going to ask you to do now. He doesn't say anything else, but he reaches his hands forward toward your chest. His eyes flick to yours, asking for permission. You nod, and he grabs hold of your breasts through your bra. You moan at his touch, quickly becoming hungry for so much more. He massages your tits, almost as if he's inspecting them. You oddly feel a bit like an expirement, and he's taking mental notes of your behaviors and reactions. "Does this feel good, Y/N?" He asks in a neutral tone.

"Yes." You breathe. You decide to try and strip him down a little bit too, reaching over for the buttons on his shirt. His eyes follow you, almost waiting for you to break an unspoken rule. You stop in your tracks. "Can I?" You ask, biting your lip anxiously. You want to see him, but you don't want to make him angry.

"Can you what?" Martin smirks, and you see now that you need to use your words again.

"Can I unbutton your shirt, Martin?" You ask, clearer this time.

"Yes, you may. But from now on, call me 'sir'. Okay?" He says.

"Yes, sir." You giggle at how it sounds at first, but if he likes it, then so do you. You resume your desired task, starting with the button at his collar. You push it through the stitched hole, exposing the rest of his neck. You notice Martin's grip tightening a little, which makes you moan again. You wonder if he'll do it every time you undo another button, testing the theory. You open the next one down, and he does the same thing, squeezing harder for a moment, before resuming his gentle massage. You undo the next button, and the next, moaning louder with every squeeze he gives you.

"You make very nice noises, Y/N. Are you enjoying yourself?" He questions, still coming off painfully formal. If it were anyone else, you'd probably be put off by it. But his overall sense of confidence whenever he speaks makes everything he says sound attractive to you.

"Yes. It feels really good." You answer, still opening up his shirt. There's just three more buttons left, and what you've revealed so far is exactly what you were hoping for. This man clearly works out, he's very fit. His muscles aren't anything crazy, but he has not let turning gray slow him down one bit. His chest and stomach are toned, with a small amount of salt and pepper hair in all the right places. You tug the tails of his shirt out of his slacks, undoing the final button. "Your body is amazing, sir." You say breathlessly, meeting his gaze again.

"Thanks. I try my best to stay in shape." He smirks at you finding him so attractive. He massages your chest more roughly now, drawing more noises from you. He leads you to lie down, with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He presses his lips to yours again, one hand leaving your breast to slip under your back. He unclasps your bra, and slides the straps down your shoulders. He folds it up nicely while still kissing you, setting it off to the side for a moment. Martin grabs hold of your bare breasts now, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and fingers.

"Mmm." You moan against him, enjoying every second of this. You feel up his own chest, marveling at his firm muscles. After a little while, you want to feel more. You lower a hand down his stomach, over his belt until you reach his erection again. You ghost over it, earning a low groan from Martin's lungs. It's the first one you've heard from him, and it's sexy as hell. You start groping him again, your heart pounding in your chest as you expect him to stop all this and punish you. But he doesn't, he lets you continue to touch him, still letting out those same breathy groans. "Please, sir. I want you so bad." You whimper when his lips leave yours to go to your neck again. You squeeze him a little harder in your hand, wanting him to move things along.

"Patience, Y/N. Be a good girl for me." He pants between kisses on your throat. He loves how needy you are, how badly you want him to touch you and be inside of you. He's never seen a girl so desperate, but he's only getting started. A few minutes later, Martin pulls away. He sits up, taking off his shirt entirely. He stands to go hang it up, and then turns to look at you again. "Take off your skirt." He orders.

"Yes, sir." You answer, standing off the bed to remove it. You fold it nicely, putting it and your bra on top of your shirt on the table. You sit back down, and he smiles at the sight of your pink lace underwear. "What should I do now?" You ask, feeling oddly self-conscious while sitting in nothing but your panties and socks.

"Lie down, Y/N." He says, before digging deeper into the closet for something. You do as he says, putting your head on the pillows. You try to position yourself casually, posing your arms and legs in various ways. But nothing feels right. You decide to stop trying so hard and just lie still, though you're curious as to what he's looking for. He comes back over to you, holding a silver metal box. He puts it on the bed, and silently opens the clasps. He pulls the top open, revealing what looks like a collar. It's a large, tan ring with white, squared nodules around the inner circumference. There's an electronic lock on the side, and a small remote next to it. It appears to be a shock collar, which makes you swallow hard.

"What's that?" You ask, though you feel a bit stupid asking. What else could it possibly be?

"Oh, just something to ensure that you'll follow my every order." Martin answers simply, looking at you with an odd smile. He raises a brow at your widened eyes, closing the lid of the case for a moment. "Do you still want to do this, Y/N? I completely understand if you don't." He offers you one final way out. But you want this, a little shock can't be that bad. It could be a lot of fun...right?

"I want this, sir. I'll do anything you ask." You reply, and he nods. He opens the box again, and takes the collar out of the foam lining inside. He clicks a button on the remote to open the ring, and comes over to you to put it on.

"Sit up for a second." He says, and you do. He puts the collar around your neck, the nodules digging into your throat with light pressure once he clicks it in place. You lay back down once he's finished, and he presses another button to power it on. A low buzz kicks on around your neck, the sound startling you. You gasp slightly, drawing his eyes to you again. "Is everything alright?" He asks, checking in on you.

"Yes, sir." You nod, breathing heavily. He puts the remote down on the table for a moment, and picks up his necktie.

"Put your hands above you head." He commands. He ties your hands together at the wrists with the silk fabric, leaving a small amount of slack so you don't lose circulation. "Good girl." He praises, taking in the image of you in your newly bound state. Your eyes have blown wide with desire as well as fear, your chest rises and falls with heavy, rapid breaths, and the cherry on top is the small wet spot of arousal on your panties. "Are you ready to play, Y/N?" He asks with a grin, very eager to set things into motion.

"Yes." You reply, hoping he'll touch you soon. He's been quite stingy with his touches thus far, drawing everything out for the sake of driving you crazy.

"Good. I only have one rule. If you misbehave, you get a shock. But I'm sure a smart girl like you has already figured that out." He chuckles darkly, almost looming over you from the side of the bed. You nod in understanding. "Perfect." He brings a hand to your chest, carefully caressing the side of your breast. You gasp at his touch, the softness of it sending tingles along your spine. He travels downwards very slowly, going down to your stomach and waist. He meets the hem of your panties, looping a finger around the fabric. He reaches over to do the same on the other side, and gingerly pulls your underwear down your thighs, knees, and ankles. He doesn't fold them up this time, nor does he put them with the rest of your clothes. Instead, he puts them in his pocket to keep as a souvenir of your night together. You don't mind, many guys have done that before. You take it as a compliment, if anything.

You instinctively spread your legs apart a little, expecting him to start touching your pussy soon. But it appears you've guessed wrong, because Martin quickly picks up the remote and presses it. You feel a strong, paralyzing current running through you, making you cry out as your body convulses outside your control. "Fuck!" You huff when he finally stops, your muscles relaxing against the bed.

"I didn't say to move, did I?" He asks angrily, and you shake your head. "Use your words!" He almost shouts at you, holding up the remote as a threat to shock you again if you don't speak up.

"No, sir! You didn't! I'm sorry!" You apologize frantically, fumbling over your syllables. That shock scared you, there's no doubt about it. But you're surprised to find that it also felt...kinda good.

"That's right. Now, have you learned your lesson?" He asks, eyes burning into you as he waits for your answer.

"Yes." You nod. He doesn't say anything else. Instead, he drags his hand lazily along your ankle, creeping up toward your knee and thigh. He draws closer to your cunt, watching your breath hitch and heart skip a beat while you wait patiently for him to touch you. You observe silently as he continues to torture you with waiting so long. You need to feel his fingers on your clit, or sinking deep inside your pussy. You feel compelled to cry and scream for him to give you what you want at this point. But you hold it all back, you have to obey him if you're going to get what you so deeply desire.

Martin's hand reaches your inner thigh, and he presses on further to touch the very outside of your silk. You moan at the sensation, as unsatisfying as it is. "Hmm, so soft." He observes aloud, wondering how often you shave or wax your most intimate areas. He travels deeper, finally making contact with your clit with the very tips of his middle and ring fingers.

"Fuck." You whine, using every ounce of willpower to keep your hips from bucking off the bed. You don't imagine he'd take very kindly to such lack of self-control.

"More?" He questions.

"Yes, sir. Please, touch me." You whimper, begging him with your eyes. He does as you ask, dragging his fingertips along your slick folds. You're quickly heating up as he continues to stroke you, sweat forming inside your pores. He's still very slow and methodical, noting your every sound and expression like before. "More, please." You beg, still resisting the urge to buck and thrash around on the bed. You'd love nothing more than to grind your hips to get yourself off against his fingers.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He smirks, moving further down to press a finger inside your soaked hole.

"Oh, god." You gasp. He pumps the digit in and out of your pussy, brushing against your g spot ever so slightly. Without you needing to ask, he adds another. "Fuck...yes..." You moan breathlessly, your eyes rolling back into your skull. His fingers are the perfect size, as long and thick as you dreamt they would be. He keeps his snail's pace, but you don't even care. He's inside you, and it feels so damn good.

"That's a good girl...do you like having my fingers inside you?" He asks curiously, though the answer reads plainly on your face.

"Yes, sir. You feel so good, I'm so wet for you." You shake your head in the affirmative as you speak, letting him know how amazing he's making you feel. Normally, Martin would have a mind to shock you again for responding in such a vulgar way. But he likes hearing these dirty words falling from your lips. You're different than the others, you're special. You make every single salacious statement sound like lines of poetry to him. This may only ever be a one-time thing, but you'll certainly be one that he'll never forget.

"I'm glad to hear it, Y/N." He says softly, continuing to work you over like it's his day job. He continues to go slow, but your insides are boiling all the same. You can sense your release nearing, and you're sure Martin can as well. "Are you getting close?" He asks, noticing your walls have started to flutter around his fingers. He'd love to see how beautiful you look when you climax.

"Yes, sir. Please, don't stop." You plead as the waves of your oncoming orgasm begin to roll over you.

"I won't, Y/N." He says softly, almost like a promise. It's uncharacteristically sweet, considering he's got your hands tied up while a shock collar sits tightly around your neck. Just a little longer, and you'll be calling out his name. He hopes so, anyway. He certainly likes how it sounds coming from you.

"I'm almost there...can I cum, sir?" You ask, meeting his eyes.

"Not yet, Y/N. Hold it for me, just a bit longer." Martin replies firmly.

"O-okay..." You stutter, gasping slightly when you feel your orgasm about to sneak up on you. You try your best to hold it back, to obey Martin's orders. It's becoming increasingly difficult, however. Your thighs keep twitching, and a constant whine floods from your lips from keeping it all inside.

"Just a little more, I know you can do it. Be a good girl for me." He insists, increasing his pace ever so slightly to up the stakes.

"Fuck...sir, please...I want to be good for you. But I nee—" You beg, which is quickly interrupted by another intense shock. His fingers left you at the last second before he flicked the switch, but the painful waves seem to only extend your pleasure. You continue to moan until he presses the button to stop the electric current.

"I told you to wait, Y/N. Don't make excuses, and don't disobey me." He shoves his fingers back into you, and rapidly curls and thrusts them this time.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out, tears pricking your eyes now. He's purposefully trying to make you break the rules, but you refuse to earn another shock anytime soon. You keep your orgasm tangled up in a quickly dissolving chain, waiting for him to give you the go ahead.

"Do you want to release, Y/N?" He asks flatly, peering down at you. He marvels at your resolve to follow his orders, he knows it's taking everything in you to hold on for him. What a strong little thing she is... he muses to himself.

"Yes! Please, sir! I want to cum so bad..." You exclaim, your bound hands helplessly clawing at the pillow beneath your head.

"Go ahead." He nods, giving you a small smile again.

"Fuck...Martin!" You moan loudly as your release takes over. Your thighs quake, and your insides clamp around Martin's fingers. The pleasure is so intense, like nothing you've ever experienced before. Holding off for so long has made your orgasm ridiculously powerful. You're blinded by bright white light that consumes your entire being, and you can't stop trembling and moaning for a good fifteen seconds. He watches this event unfold, his gaze drawn downwards when your arousal spills warmly into his hand. He takes his fingers out of you, grabbing a washcloth to wipe his hand with as you come down. You're left panting wildly, slathered in sweat that's dampened your hair and the bed beneath you.

"Was that enjoyable for you?" Martin asks, as if he didn't just witness you having the best orgasm of your entire life.

"Yes, sir. It was amazing." You gush, smiling uncontrollably at the utter bliss you feel inside.

"Good. I liked it quite a lot, too." He replies, and you hear the jingling of his belt opening. You open your eyes to see Martin undoing his pants. You watch hungrily as he exposes his clean white briefs, and the stiff cock sheathed inside them. He puts the slacks away, and comes back over to the bed. He makes sure you're paying attention, before slipping his underwear down his legs. His dick slaps against his stomach, the head red and swollen with need. You want to take him in your mouth, or to ride him, it doesn't really matter. You just want him inside you again, to make your fantasies a completed reality.

"Can I suck your cock, sir?" You ask cautiously, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"No, thank you. I've never liked that very much. But I think you want something else a bit more, don't you?" He questions you again, taking hold of his length and stroking it a couple of times.

"Yes, sir. I want you to fuck me." You say boldly, biting your lip.

"I ought to shock you again for that filthy mouth of yours." He threatens, but he's not really all that serious about it.

"Do you not like the things I say, sir?" You ask with a bratty pout, toying with him a little bit.

"I-I do. Much as I shouldn't, I really do." His tone falters, which clues you in to how much he immensely enjoys you saying dirty things.

"Do you want to fuck me, sir?" You continue with your own inquiries, hoping to drive him to slam his cock into you, or even shock you again for acting out of line. You're enjoying this far more than you'd truly expected, and it appears he is as well.

"Yes." He almost whispers.

"Do you want to make me scream your name?" You press on, testing the limits.

"Yes." Martin continues to rub himself as you speak. Slow and languid, not nearly enough to make him lose control. Just revving himself up for when he's deep inside you.

"How do you want me?" You ask again.

"What do you mean?" He replies, confused as to what you're referring to.

"Laying down? Hands and knees? On your lap? How do you want me?" You repeat yourself, your words dripping with lust.

"Oh, I see." Martin blushes slightly at his misunderstanding. He thinks it over a moment, before answering. "This way is fine...for now." He says, climbing onto the bed to join you now. He spreads your legs apart with his hands, tenting your knees and placing himself between them. He gives you another kiss, warming you up before the main event. His hands grab at your tits, massaging them roughly.

"Mmm." You moan against his mouth, wishing you could bury your hands in his hair and tug on it. His lips move lower down to your neck, and he brings a hand to rub against your clit for a moment. "Oh..." You whimper quietly.

"Are you ready?" He asks in your ear, ceasing his touch on your bundle of nerves. He takes hold of his cock, running his tip along your silk.

"Yes, sir. So ready...you have no idea." You reply, waiting for him to penetrate you. Without another word, he puts his head above yours to watch you as his dick slips inside you. "Oh, fuck." You exhale while he fills you up. He's the perfect size, reaching every inch of your soaked pussy flawlessly. "You're so big, sir." You compliment him once he bottoms out.

"Thank you. You're very...warm." He says, somewhat awkwardly. You're guessing that's his best attempt at talking dirty.

"Do I feel nice and tight inside? Am I wet enough for you?" You try to help him out, saying all the vulgar things on his behalf.

"Yes. You're perfect, Y/N." Martin rasps, slowly pulling out before slipping back in. He lets out a low groan at the slickness of your insides. He continues to thrust in and out at a very slow pace, similar to how his fingers were working inside you earlier. But you want more, you want him to rail you like he does in your dreams. You know he has it in him, but you're unsure how to say it without him shocking you again.

"Can you go faster, sir?" You ask politely.

"Not yet, Y/N. Patience." He says in warning, still moving so very slow. You swear he's just trying to make you squirm. You can't help your neediness, so you grind your hips to meet his thrusts. He pulls his cock out of you as a result, and takes hold of the remote to give you another shock.

"Shit!" You shout at the painful current going through your body once more. Your muscles seize up, and Martin just watches the helpless look on your face. He lets it go a little longer this time, making you afraid that you might pass out. But just before you're about to possibly lose consciousness, he turns it off.

"It appears you have a problem with listening." Martin growls, which only turns you on more.

"I'm sorry, sir. I only want you so bad, you feel so good inside me." You explain, the pitchy whine in your voice making his cock twitch. How can he resist you when you sound like that?

"You promise to be good for me? To listen to what I say?" He questions, his expression stone still despite his ever-growing hunger for you.

"Yes, sir. Please...I need you." You beg tearfully.

"Very well." He responds, before slamming his cock inside you.

"Fuck!" You squeal. He proceeds to hammer himself into you now, gripping your thighs with frustrated strength.

"Is this what you want, Y/N?" He asks while panting as he fucks you good and hard.

"Yes, sir. This is exactly what I want. You feel so good." You continue to moan with every thrust, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close. He allows you to do this, using you as leverage to keep pounding your pussy like his life depends on it.

"Should I go harder? Faster? Tell me what you want, Y/N." Martin offers, spellbound by your helpless noises.

"Fuck me harder, sir. I know you can...you're so strong...I can take it." You plead to him, bringing your bound hands down to rest around his neck. You have to hold him, to feel him in any way you possibly can.

"I'm sure you can. You're such a good girl for me." He chuckles, snapping his hips to drive into you with more force.

"Shit, I'm getting close again, sir..." You warn him, though you're not sure how well you can hold it this time. He's hitting your sweet spot with every motion of in and out, and you're sure he isn't far behind.

"You know the rules, Y/N." He burns, picking up the remote again. You watch him with frightened eyes, though your lips curl into a mischievous smile.

"Do it." You blurt the words out.

"What?" He asks, dumbfounded that you're actually asking him to shock you.

"Shock me. It feels really good, sir." You reply seductively.

"If that's what you really want..." He trails off, still thrusting roughly into you as he presses the button. It appears the collar works like a taser, sending an intense shock to you, without affecting him at all. You moan at the sensation, savoring the pain and pleasure mixing together inside your clenching belly. Your walls spasm around his dick, making him groan. That's another reason why you asked him to do it, you knew he'd like it, too. He lets the current go on for longer again, watching your face twist in ecstasy. "You really are something special, Y/N." He says, in awe of you. He flicks the switch to turn it off, and your body relaxes underneath his.

"I try my best." You quip, breathing far more heavily than you were before.

"Here, let's try hands and knees for the end, hm?" Martin suggests, quickly pulling out and rolling you onto your stomach. He pants erratically behind you, waiting for you to get on your knees.

"Mmm, yes, please." You hum, kneeling before him while arching your back. You lean on your elbows, your hands resting just below your head.

Martin takes a moment to look at you in this position, noting your readiness to take him once more. He can deduce that this is your favorite position, and as a man of science, he can understand the anatomical reason as to why. He takes hold of his cock, running his leaking tip along your folds to tease you again. He grunts at his sensitivity, needing to hold back himself so he can fully please you. He'd hate to leave a woman unsatisfied. "Ready?" He asks, barely pressing the head of his dick against your entrance.

"Yes, sir. Please, fuck me." You plead, fighting the reflex to back yourself into him.

"Well, I am partial to begging." He says with a light laugh, before shoving his length into you.

"Fuck, yes." You moan as he hits even better angles inside you from behind.

"More?" He asks, needing you to tell him exactly what you want. He loves how verbal you are, how unafraid you are of sounding so pathetic.

"Yes, sir. Fuck me hard and fast...I wanna cum on your huge cock." You're whimpering and teary-eyed again, but you can't possibly be bothered to care.

"Sure thing." He answers simply, grabbing either side of your waist. He pulls out, making your skin slap together loudly as he thrusts back in with force. You cry out, gripping what you can of the covers below you. It's hard to manage with your hands stuck together, but you try your damndest. Martin grunts very loudly as he continues to fuck you at the pace you asked for. You're almost there again, and he can feel it. He's right behind you, his stomach preparing to tense as his balls tighten.

"Can I cum, sir?" You ask through a moan. You can feel your arousal lubing him up with each stroke, some of it rolling down your inner thigh in warm drips.

"Not yet. Soon." He mumbles, driving himself as deep into you as humanly possible. Your insides are so snug around him now, threatening to strangle him altogether. He's looking forward to feeling you let go around him.

"Please, sir...please, please...please..." You repeat the words incoherently, they're the only things you can think to say. You're an absolute mess, holding your orgasm in so hard that it almost hurts. Your brain has turned to mush, and you know you can't keep it in forever.

"You've been a very good girl tonight, Y/N. Let it all go for me." He growls, sensing his own end taking him over.

"P-push the bu..." You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

"What?" Martin asks, trying to figure out what you're saying.

"The button. Push...the...button." You force the words out, every syllable of which threatening to open the floodgates. But you want to feel that delicious shock as you cum, you just know it'll all be worth it.

"Of course, Y/N." He says breathlessly. He does as you ask, forcing his own climax back for the sake of you violently losing control around him. He presses the button, and you finally feel it wash over you.

"Martin!" You choke out his name as your body seizes up one last time. Your pussy clenches around his dick, yanking a loud groan from his throat.

"God—" He thrusts into you uncontrollably, his cum coating your insides messily. If you could flex your vocal chords right now, you'd scream at how good his sloppy bucking feels. You continue to tremble and convulse, releasing a small mess of juices from your pussy. The warm liquid soaks his cock, making him groan again. "Y/N, I—" He gasps, unable to believe how otherworldly you feel inside. He keeps thrusting through the pleasure, forcing your cum to mix and spill out onto your thighs and the bed.

You're on cloud nine in this moment, savoring every second of electric current pulsing through you, and every needy stroke Martin continues to make inside you. He finally turns off the collar, powering it off entirely. You slump against the bed, taking him with you as he still won't stop fucking your pussy. "Martin..." You moan, trying to warn him that he's gonna make you cum again if he doesn't let up.

"You feel so good, Y/N. I've never felt anyone like you..." He praises.

"G-gonna cum again..." You make a second attempt, but he doesn't seem to hear you. You've broken him, in a way, making him the desperate one now. You let him keep going, regardless of the fact that you're getting a little sore. His thrusts feel so good, and he seems to want to experience you clamping down on him one last time.

"One more, just one more...can you do that for me, Y/N?" He asks with desperation in his voice. His breath lands hotly on the back of your neck, his body sliding around on top of yours as you're both covered in sweat.

"Y-yes...I'll be so good for you, Martin. Make me cum." Your words are all the motivation he needs. He picks up his pace again, pounding you into the bed as he tries to give you another orgasm. You cry out over and over, waiting to feel ecstasy rush through you for the third time.

"That's it...just like that, Y/N. Good girl." He pants, feeling your walls fluttering again.

"Oh, shit...I'm gonna cum, sir. Can I cum, please?" You whimper.

"Y-Yes, you can..." He stutters, and you sense your high taking over once the words pass his lips.

"FUCK!" You scream, thighs quaking as you're rocked to the core again.

"Mmm, ah—" His breath catches in his throat as you soak his cock again, even more than last time. You spill down your thighs and his, every spasm pushing more fluid out of you. You almost start sobbing as your final high subsides, and he stills himself within you. He carefully pulls out, gazing at the sticky mess left between your legs. You lie still, trying to catch your breath. As you do so, Martin gets off the bed and unlocks the collar. He takes it away, putting it and the remote back in its case. He also unties your hands, checking for any bruises left on your wrists. Finding none, he retrieves a damp towel from the bathroom to clean you up with. "How are you feeling?" He asks as he wipes away the mess from your sore flesh.

"I'm great, Martin. That was so fucking good." You say softly, feeling completely exhausted now. Once he's done cleaning you up, he helps you sit up and redress, sans your panties. "Thank you." You say, standing to meet him once you're fully clothed.

"For what?" He asks curiously.

"For giving me what I've been dreaming about for weeks." You reply cheekily, giving him a short kiss. You suppose it's time for you to leave now, to go back home to your parents.

"You dreamt about me?" He questions, as if it's impossible for you to have done such a thing.

"Mmhmm, every night since the first day you came into the store. Shit, I've had to change my panties in the middle of the night so many times because of you." You giggle, playfully poking his chest.

"Right." He gives you a soft smile, unsure how to respond to that. "Well, I can have my driver drop you at home, if you like. Or the store, if your car is still there." He offers.

"The store is fine. Thanks." You reply, and he goes to a phone on the dresser, presumably to speak to the driver. He retrieves a robe to put on to escort you to the door after the brief call, tying a firm knot around his waist. 

"Come along, then." He gestures at the bedroom door, and you open it and head for the stairs. You go all the way down and to the front door, stopping for a moment. "What is it? Did you forget something?"

"No." You shake your head, lifting up your bag to show that you've got everything. "I just...if you ever wanted to do this again, I wouldn't say no." You end with a shrug, unsure he'll even consider it.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that." He answers, smiling a bit bigger for your benefit. Unfortunately, for your own safety, he can't do this again. If only you knew the kinds of things he's gotten himself caught up in these last few years, the awful things he's done in the name of 'science'. He can't put a sweet young thing like you at risk, no matter how amazing the sex is. But for now, he can let you think there's a chance, he can't bear to break your heart. You'll just need some time to forget about him, to move on to someone your own age. That's all. At least, he hopes so. He'd hate to have you come back here looking for him, when this isn't even his real home at all. It's all staged, sitting empty and waiting for him, or anyone else working in the lab, who needs a cover to blend in. It's a shame you fell for it so willingly, though he supposes that's kind of the point.

"Cool. Well, hopefully I'll see you in the shop again. Or around town." You say, going to him for one last kiss goodbye.

"Of course. I'll be around." But no, he really won't. He'll have to avoid your store like the plague now. What a shame, you've got such a wonderful selection of Chopin. He puts a hand on the small of your back, giving you the final kiss you're waiting for. He kisses you hard, wanting to sweep you off your feet one last time. You hum against him, wishing you didn't have to let go. But he makes the decision for you, and the regretful look on his face tells you he won't be coming to you again.

You're not stupid, you know this was probably a one-time thing anyway. It hurts to know he's lying to your face, but you're sure he has a good reason. You figured his vague answer of 'government' as his job meant something top secret, maybe even dangerous. You get it, truly, you do. And he doesn't need to know that you see right through him. Let him have his illusion, it'll only hurt more to shatter it.

"Bye, Martin." You give him a small wave, and go outside to the car that's waiting for you. It's a dead silent ride back to the record store, with the driver glancing back at you suspiciously a couple of times. He drops you off outside Waxed Out, and you walk down the street to the lot where you've parked your car. You get inside, turn the key, and drive home while replaying the exquisite moments you and Martin shared together. It'll be a while before you get over that man, and you don't mind that one bit. He was something special tonight, and you're sure he feels the same about you. At least he has your panties to remember you by.

August 10th, 1983

Dear diary,

I was right. Martin hasn't returned to the store, and I don't think he's ever going to. I get it, his work is probably too much to balance with hooking up with me and taking care of his kid, if he even has one. I still dream about him every so often, and we do all the things we did that night over and over again. I still wake up with soaked panties every time, but all it does is remind me that I'm never going to see him in that way again. I hardly see him around town, either. And the few times I have, he ignores me when I wave at him. It's like I don't exist, or at least, he turns away before I can see him look sad. I'd like to think that's what he's doing, anyway. I know, I know, this was only sex. Wild, crazy, kinky-as-fuck sex. But still, that's all it was. And that's all it needs to be.

As they say, onwards and upwards. Speaking of that, I've finally got my own place! No roommates or anything! It's totally cheap and doesn't look like a complete dump. And it's all mine. No more nosey parents, not after I move in there in a couple days. I've got my shit all packed up and ready to go. My freedom can't come soon enough, diary. Until then, I'm gonna get high and masturbate while thinking about Martin again. What can I say? That dick was something else...

[barclaysangel]

A Siren's Embrace; Chapter 2: Mermaid of the Sea

Hey everyone! Here is chapter 2 of “A Siren’s Embrace”! I’m gonna be honest, motivation is extremely low right now and I’m struggling with one of the chapters. With my low motivation, I don’t know how much I’ll be updating since I’m still stuck on chapter 6. And with getting almost no interaction on this story, it’s made my motivation go so much lower, but I’ll still post the other 3 chapters that I do have completed within the next 3 weeks. Please leave comments because they do help fuel my motivation and make me happy.

Thank you and enjoy :)

Word count: 1.3K

Tags: @streets-in-paradise @king-of-wicked

Nika didn’t tell her parents about what happened at the beach. 

What was she supposed to say to them? Hi, mom and dad. I nearly died while surfing today but it’s okay! A fucking mermaid swooped in and saved my life, so here I am! Anyway, can I go back to the beach tomorrow?

Yeah, that would be a good way for her to either be locked in her room for the next year or worse, get institutionalized. 

So Nika had to keep everything to herself. Her parents couldn’t ever know what happened. They were overprotective enough and this would just make it much worse. 

Not to mention the psychoanalysis she’d have to go through if she happened to mention the mermaid bit. 

They would realize that their only child has fully lost her mind and is spiraling into madness. 

Well, maybe she was. There was no proof of the mermaid even being there. Not to mention that Nika was on the brink of death. She seriously could have hallucinated everything. Or there was some logical explanation going on. 

Like…there was a person there. Singing to me. And then…ran away before I could fully see them? Nika thought to herself but even she knew that she sounded possibly even more insane to try and rationalize what happened. 

So Nika might really be going crazy. 

She had gone back to the beach, to that same area where she was resting on the sand, the very next day to try and find her. She did this every single day after that, desperate to know that it wasn’t all in her head. But with each day passing by, staying in the water for hours, she realized that her attempts were growing futile. There was no sign of the woman that saved her life. 

Maybe…maybe I did imagine it all. It was my brain’s way of coping with nearly dying that I hallucinated a supernatural creature of the ocean that I always held an interest in. 

At this point, it was useless for Nika to keep doing this and risk looking insane to anyone that saw her. Her parents were already beginning to question her on what she was doing for hours, everyday after school. She could only come up with so many excuses before her parents finally put their foot down. 

Perhaps it would be better to just…stop and accept defeat. To walk away with some of her pride still intact and never speak a word of her hallucination to anyone. 

But on the day she decided she was going to give up, the tenth day since she almost died, she was at the beach, near the corner where no one else could see her. Nika was perched up on a large rock, crouching down while scanning the ocean before her. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, just waiting, but then, she felt a pair of eyes on her back. This didn’t feel like a passerby on the beach, wondering what she was doing. There was some kind of intensity that made Nika pause before slowly turning around. 

Just like when she woke up, she saw the same shade of sea green eyes looking at her. 

A small gasp escaped her lips and her own eyes widened, a brief feeling of vindication ensuring her that she wasn’t losing her mind–I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, holy shit!–before the woman’s head went underwater. 

“No, no, no, no…” Nika scrambled to where the woman disappeared up on her rock, seeing just a shimmer of scales that almost camouflaged in the water until it was gone. 

Her heart sank and she sat down, running both of her hands through her short black hair. She had seen her for just a few seconds, a little bit longer than the first time, but now the woman was gone just like before. 

After sitting there for a few minutes, feeling like her hopes were dashed away from her, Nika saw something in the water. Something pink and white until it rose to the surface. 

It was her missing surfboard. 

Along with the woman holding it out to her. 

Neither one of them moved, staring at one another until Nika slowly took the surfboard from the woman. “Th-thank you.” She said quietly after just managing to find her voice. 

The woman simply nodded once before they went back to staring at each other. There were light blue, almost silver scales on the sides of her neck and down her arms, so faint that she wouldn’t have noticed they were there if the sunlight didn’t hit the woman. She also noticed her caramel-colored skin and long dark hair, most of it hidden in the ocean. 

Nika couldn’t stop admiring the woman–no, the mermaid judging by her blue tail that continued to sway underneath the sea–and all her beauty. 

She was the loveliest being she had ever seen in her life. 

“You’re the woman who saved me from drowning…aren’t you?” Nika had to ask, just to make sure that she wasn’t imagining everything. 

Just like earlier, the mermaid nodded. “Well…thank you. I appreciate it.” She told her with a soft smile and the woman smiled as well, almost mimicking the same smile on Nika’s face. 

After a few seconds, she asked something else. “Can you speak? Oh…you probably don’t because, well…”

“Yes,” the mermaid answered much to Nika’s surprise, “I…speak some. I listen to Walkers here. I learn. I…understand most.” 

She spoke slowly, as if she was trying to get every word right. It reminded Nika of how she sounds when she tries to speak Spanish as fluently as she could around her mom’s side of the family. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Walkers?” 

The mermaid then reached out and her webbed hand touched Nika’s bare foot. It made her jump a little to suddenly feel a cold and wet hand on her skin but somehow, it was comforting as well. Besides, the grasp wasn’t meant with ill intention, but one that was of explanatory and curiosity. 

Then, the woman removed her hand from her foot and pointed a finger at her. “Walker.” She repeated, implying that Nika was a Walker. 

“Oh…that makes sense.” She said with a quiet chuckle under her breath, almost getting lost in the mermaid’s eyes. “Do…do you have a name?” 

This time, the woman shook her head. “We…do not…have names.” 

Nika supposed that made sense. If mermaids couldn’t speak and had to learn from Walkers, then of course they didn’t have names. 

“Well, my name is Nika. Nika Vincent. But you can just call me Nika, of course.” She said, almost shyly. 

The mermaid stared at her, tilting her head just slightly. “Nika.” She repeated her name. 

Somehow, hearing her own name from the woman’s voice brought a wonderful chill down her spine and Nika couldn’t help but to shiver. 

How was that so lovely to hear? 

Abruptly remembering that she had to go home soon, she checked her phone from her pocket and looked at the time before looking back at the mermaid. “I-I have to go home. But…I would love to know more about you. Will you be here tomorrow? Right at this rock?”

She smiled softly, just like before, and nodded in confirmation. “Tomorrow.” She agreed, staring so deeply into Nika’s chocolate brown eyes as if she was looking into her soul, and then submerged herself under the water. With a splash of her tail, she was gone, just like that. 

Nika sat there for a moment, processing what just happened and her mind spinning. A mermaid just gave back her surfboard and spoke to her. This had to be a fever dream, but it wasn’t. She even pinched herself to ensure that it wasn’t a fantasy. 

Shit, that hurt. She thought to herself and then giggled. 

This was all real. 

The mermaid was real. 

[rayof-damnsunshine]

ooc: This is a kinda continuation from my last lore drop. You could probably read this on it's own, but if you want a bit of context, try reading that

also, this one is definitely on the longer side

Tw: Mentions/alluding and actual child neglect (I think)

"Turn left in 2 miles." The gps' robotic voice played through the car speakers.

"Mum, are you sure about this? Sasha asked. "The map literally says we're going to a strawberry farm in the middle of nowhere."

"I'm positive, dear." Their mother reassured, looking in the at Brooklyn, before looking back at the road. "You alright, Lyn?"

"Yeah, you could say that..." Brooklyn said softly, staring out the window at the passing fields.

She was still in her school uniform, which was now covered in dirt and grim, looking hella dishevelled and she had torn her stockings climbing out the bathroom window.

Neither her mum of Sasha seemed convinced.

"You were attacked by that bit- I mean," Sasha glance to their mother. "not very nice lady, for what? The fifth time? She didn't even give up when we moved across the country."

"I didn't get hurt-"

"Not the point, Brook! Some insane shapeshifting monkey or whatever she was attacked my sister while I was in Spanish class!" Sasha's hands were moving around wildly as she got more worked up.

"Sasha, take a breath." Their mom told her. "Everything will be alright. Just a minor hiccup."

"A minor hiccup?! Brook got attacked for the fifth time! It couldn't be minor if you came to pick us up. You drove like three hours on short notice."

"Sasha, you need to calm down."

"Turn left in one mile." Even the gps couldn't handle this.

"Mum, where are we going?"

"Camp." She said simply.

"Camp? Like summer camp? Mum, its March-" Brook pointed out.

"Look, I know about as much as you."

"You clearly know where we're going." Sasha mumbled.

"Sasha, we've talked about this-" Their mother started.

"Oh, yeah? You both seemed awfully quiet when we were hiding in the closet to escape your and dad's yelling matches."

"You and I both know the divorce was the option for all of us."

Sasha stayed silent, and Brooklyn knew why.

This was the first time the divorce really got talked about, and it had been about a year now.

"Turn left in 500 feet."

"What were you being quiet about?" Brook piped up, after several minutes of the gps being the only sound in the car.

"You haven't told her?!" Sasha looked vivid.

"I was going to but-"

"Yeah, today happened." Sasha pinced the bridge of her nose. "Jesus Christ, Mum. You always do this. Just because she's not actually yours-" Her eyes widened, realising what she said.

Another silence filled the air as they finally turned left.

"Dad cheated?" Brook asked quietly. "Am I the reason-"

"No." Their mother sighed. "I didn't found out you were his until we started getting divorced."

Sasha sighed. "Way to let her down gently."

"Mum, not to be rude but please just spit it out. I'm sick of you all beating around the bush."

"You appeared on our doorstep. I thought you were just ditched entirely, so we adopted you. But, you were left there for a reason."

"So, basically, dad screwed around, someone committed child endangerment or however you'd word it and you all lied to me for 15 years." Her voice got angrier as she spoke. "Just what this family needed."

"Brook-"

"Look, I'm not mad at you that dad could not cheat, I'm mad at the fact that you lied to me about that I wasn't your kid."

"Come on, don't be like that-"

"No! I will be like that! Cause you didn’t even sit me down and tell me 'hey, kid, you're adopted but your still my kid anyways'. " Brook shot back. "I don't care that I'm adopted, or technically not your kid, that wouldn't have mattered. You went out of your way to not tell me that."

"Mum, that is pretty fucked up." Sasha said softly.

Their mother stayed silent for a moment. "Well, I guess I'm just the worse the mother eve-"

"Don't even start on that! I don't want to hear you go on about how you sacrificed for us, how you went through 18 hours of labour or whatever you're going to say. You're not perfect, no one is, but the least you could do is admit you made a mistake." Brook scoffed. "I can not believe I'm parenting you right now."

"Brooklyn Mackenzie, don't try me right now." Her mother told her lowly.

Brook fell silent.

How the hell do you switch up so fast?

Sasha looked back at Brook, silent saying 'What the fuck just happened?"

Brook shrugged.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, with only the gps being the only sound until they arrived.

"Go up that hill and head to the farmhouse." Their mother told them.

Brook looked to see the lights coming for the farmhouse.

"Mum, it's pitch black." Sasha pointed out.

"Don't trip." She shrugged.

"Oh for fucks sake." Brook grabbed her bag and climbed out the car. Sasha did the same thing.

Their mother looked at them once, before driving off.

"What the hell! She's going to just leave us here, in the middle of the fucking night and give us the vaguest directions?"

"You're surprised? She's either overprotected or down right neglecting us. No in between." She sighed, her tone becoming bitter. "I'd be happy to not be related to her."

Brook turned around. "That's a steep ass hill."

Sasha turned around. "Jesus, it's practically vertical."

"I think this day is cursed."

"Amen to that." And they starting walking.

@that-asian-child-of-aphrodite @that-one-daughter-of-apollo @childofthewargod @glee-of-ares-wrath-of-aphrodite @daonedaonlyskh

ooc: If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, let me know :)

[fragileizywriting]

"Oh, you're a straight dumbass," she cackles, holding her sides, squeezing so she doesn't laugh any harder. "Hold on, hold— hold on, I've got to get a picture."

"Fuck off," he moans.

"And miss out on sending something to Anarka? No way."

"Don't send this to my mom."

"She'll make it into this year's Christmas postcard," she muses. "Hold still for me?"

The flash is on, because Marinette has no sense of subtlety, snapping away what feels like quite literally a dozen or so photos of him wearing the neck brace. He doesn't bother stopping her as she flits around the little waiting room like a moth, taking videos, taking photos, putting AR filters on him to make it look like he has little bunny ears. Blearly, he makes the thought that Alix will get a kick out of that one, but any thought that follows it too hard for his already stuffy, cotton brain to think past. Not only has he hurt his neck, but his pride and ego ("What ego?" he can hear Marinette say as she cackles harder). This isn't worth picking a fight with.

"Kitty, you're giving me vertigo with how fast you're moving," he mumbles.

"Fine, I'll sit down. I've had my fun," she says, crossing her legs at her chair with a bright laugh. She's typing faster than anything he's ever seen, no doubt sending all of these photos to as many people as possible. How she has reception, he has no idea, but he'll just live with it for now. "I can't believe you fell for it."

It seemed "reachable" in theory. First mistake is trusting anything she says, though.

Marinette, with the powers of the cat Miraculous, has a few upsides: she's flexible, practically a contortionist, folding herself into the weirdest most uncomfortable pretzels he's ever seen. With the snake Miraculous, he's just as flexible, though he hadn't tested the limits of how far his pretzelness went until today.

Because of Marinette.

Marinette: did you know that at this point you could probably suck your own dick? Luka: What? Marinette: yeah. i mean, we're flexible enough. i can lick my own thigh. i think your dick would be easier to reach than your own thigh, though. Luka: Kitty, it's too early for this. Marinette: don't lie to me, i know you're stripping right now and you're going to try it Luka: Go away. I'll tell you how it goes, I guess?

Like an idiot, he'd tried.

Failed.

Oh, how he failed.

Marinette had come with him to the doctor's, slapping an untruthful yet very convincing "I'm his girlfriend!" when the nurse had mentioned that friends weren't allowed in; he'd grimaced, more of the pain in his neck that flared with every movement he made below the shoulders than anything else, but she didn't give up.

"And 'send'," she exclaims to herself, looking him over. "What a sight to behold!"

"You're a sadist."

"Sure am, Vai. This is just precious."

"You're the worst."

"Nawh. Well, yeah. Maybe."

"You owe me."

She barely blinks, leaning her chin into her palm she has propped up using the hand rests of the plastic, grey chair. "What's your neck worth to you?"

"A date," he punches out, completely out of thin air. The two of them freeze, unsure if that's what he meant— it's hard, he has a habit of blurting things out, and so does she because of the ADHD, and they're at a standstill.

"Wait," she says, mouth pulled into a weird line.

"You announced to everyone in the reception area that you're my girlfriend, and you know I hate liars."

"W-wait."

"Go on a date with me."

"I—"

"My neck is worth a single date with you."

"But—"

"No take-backs," he starts, but the rest of the sentence fizzles out of him when he sees her face. Heated, practically as red as Mister Bug's suit, her freckles all but disappear. A quiet Marinette is a dangerous one.

"Okay," she wheezes.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay," he parrots, doing his best not to nod. "Awesome. Cool. Uh. I didn't actually think you'd say yes, but—"

"I didn't imagine you'd ask me out here."

"Well. Today's just full of surprises," he puts lightly.

[lilsherlockian1975]

How to be brave in the face of bigotry. Be like my daughter!

Follow-up to the follow-up post about my trans daughter and my awful family... 

First off, I know I’ve been more than a little absent from Tumblr and famdom in general for a couple of years. My excuses are many and pointless, however, my family has been through a lot and that’s been my focus. I am sorry, to all my friends here. Very sorry.

So, as I mentioned on my last post, Laufey had moved in with my sister (the ally, not fundamental Christian who refuses to accept my daughter as trans). This sister, ‘G’, is NOT liberal or progressive by any means, but loves Laufey and has researched until she has a very good understanding of what’s required as an ally to a trans loved one, even going so far as to find Laufey the best gender reassignment surgeon in the city.

Until today, I thought Laufey was entirely unaware of the issues my nephew and his wife were causing but that’s not apparently true. Their daughter (who is 15 - we’ll call her ‘C’) has been telling Laufey everything. I AM NOT upset with C about this. I don’t think she was trying to cause trouble. She’s just being a kid, sharing things that upset her with her older cousin. Confiding in Laufey because, apparently, things are not good in her home (again, her mom is an alcoholic) and she doesn’t have anyone else to talk to about it.

This brings me to today: Laufey sent me a text and asked if I could bring her friend ‘K’ (Laufey’s friend who we took up last week for a visit) up for C’s birthday party (we had planned on coming ourselves before all this mess). In the text she said, “I understand if you can’t, considering how L & A (nephew and wife) are acting". I then called because I was surprised and worried about what Laufey knew. That’s when she told me everything and it’s much worse than I suspected - they’ve been saying all kinds of awful stuff to each other in front of and to their kids about Laufey. But here’s the thing, the reason she wanted ‘K’ to come up was because K and C got along really well last week and, apparently not many of C’s friends had come to her party. Laufey was worried that C would feel bad about that. When I asked Laufey how she was going to deal with L & A, she told me “I don’t care. They can say whatever they want about me, I can handle it. But I won’t let them keep me away from my cousin because she needs my love and support. I’m strong enough to deal with their bigotry”.

Can you imagine how proud I am right now? Laufey is so fucking brave and caring that even in the face of such ignorance and hate, she won’t let them change her or her behavior. I have literally never been that brave in all my 47 years. Never. And I’ve never been so proud to be a mother.

[winderlylandchime]

Hello! I’m here to tell you that my brother and Brian the cat are officially back home! I have to tell you some stuff tho! I was asked (nicely) to send you a message and i almost died when i got texts from my dad yesterday, so i knew i had to let you know. Anyway just a little thing for you to read because i thought you should see it as well.

I got a text from my dad that my brother befriended the old lady that sat next to him on the plane and they discussed Desperate Housewives because he is still watching it (he isnt at Gales season yet) and the lady really liked it back when it aired. He originally mentioned Gale and was about to tell her about qaf and my dad smacked him on the head and went ‘don’t even think about it. I’m not (my name)’ (he mentioned Gale and went ‘he was on this show Queer as OW’ according to my dad. You can take a guess when my dad smacked him) So he definitely has different ways of dealing with him than I do..I wouldve let it happen and then watch in amusement for 5 hours while he has an old lady trapped with him on a plane while he talks about two dudes in love.

ALSO! They had a surprise party planned for him. And i got a video sent to me of my brother’s girls (aka the queens) and his best friends that came to wait for him at the airport. They even made him a sign (the sign said ‘welcome back Mr Wannabe Kinney’) and he was so happy. And then they all surprised him at that bar they all go to! Turns out my mom, grandma, grandpa and the queens planned a surprise welcome home party. They decorated it all with signs that based on some photos had qaf topics written on them and balloons and when he sent me a photo this morning of all of them in a group, i swear it’s the cutest shit ever. I wish you could’ve seen it but just imagine a shit ton of people where 98% are queer, a few drag queens and then in the middle a dude with a Britin shirt on that looks like he doesn’t even belong there. It’s adorable how happy they all are to have him back and I can’t wait to find out how long that lasted until he unloaded all of his qaf/gale/randy/britin knowledge on them.

And secondly, I’m a little late with this but he did text me before he boarded the plane, asking me to relay a message to you: ‘yooo tell them that I just read that last chapter while we were waiting on our flight. What a fucking ending. I actually loved it, felt good, felt nice, felt like the right time. Wish that the real show ended in a similar way. For real (my name), you’re gonna love it when you read it.’

After that I texted him your replies to my message and he immediately texted me back ‘DRAG QUEEN STORY IS NEXT?! FUCK YEAH! I CANT FUCKING WAIT!’ And then in the middle of the night (so for him around 3 am) a very lovely text followed up: ‘can you nicely ask them to tell their Hannah Montana friend that I fucking love the new story. I have so many guesses and theories how it’s gonna go and I can’t wait to be wrong cause I know it’s gonna be better. And this shit is based on how the other person’s friends met?! I have so many questions, I feel like they’re right up my ally.’ After that he spammed my phone to ask me if I’ve read both of the fics yet (i have and they’re absolutely brilliant. You guys are talented as fuck)

Today he actually called me to talk to me about your epilogue and about your friends fic. This is really how we will bond from now on, isn’t it? I did send him your little teaser of the drag queen fic and he completely lost his shit. He’s so excited and if you were nervous about writing this fic, just so you know, you got a random straight dude in your corner because he is so excited for it, it’s kinda ridiculous (not really, its actually really sweet)

Btw, about the podcast Ron and Dan were on, I’ve also never listened to their podcasts even though I knew about it. But curiosity did get the best of me so I went and checked it out. It was a pretty decent interview. I don’t think it made me hate them more or less, kinda just the same. They didn’t say anything that I would clock as bad. I did see that they might do a part 2 where they’ll answer fan’s questions so i guess we’ll see then how i feel about them.

Dear sweet anon! Thank you so much for sending this update.

Queer as OW I'm dying! I would have let him trap that lady too. Maybe gotten another viewer of the show!

Welcome Back Mr. Wannabe Kinney! Oh I love that. I'm going to guess that since they're his friends, they're used to him info-dumping on them and they signed up for this. Otherwise, they wouldn't have encouraged it with their care packages. They know who he is.

I'm so glad he (and you!) enjoyed the final chapter of Fireflies. It was a short chapter given how long it took me to write it. I'm just terrible at ending fics.

This is my friend's story (as I texted it to the fic author):

"We were at a sex party and after fucking, I asked for his number and he actually gave me his real number instead of what he usually did which was give out the number of the last guy who had 'exchanged' numbers with him."

I'm excited that he's excited for the drag queen AU. It's going to be a long time coming though. I mapped it out yesterday and it's going to be about 20 chapters because I want a chapter devoted to each of the drag race all-stars challenges. And I'm going to include actual queens from the show. I want to have a good amount written before I start posting to make sure I'm up to the challenge. It's hard to capture everyone's voices and balance that many moving parts. My fics tend to focus on relationships and mental health, I don't write super plotty fics so this is new for me. I'm really excited for it though.

I'm going to check out the podcast! After I finish listening to my library book. WHILE WE WAIT FOR ANOTHER RANDY PODCAST EPISODE.

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 I had to write it okay?

I'm so sorry.

Warninsg: trauma mentions, abuse mentions, daddy issues, a mother and her daughter trapping the other family members outside on a hot day.

"Carol, I don't know what to do! I've been trying to hard to make a connection, but everytime we get close he pulls away!" Eathan ranted as he sat on the bed.

"Darling.... almost 29 years of abuse and neglect... he doesn't know what to do.... I can tell he likes you, but he's afraid you're gonna leave him," Carolyn explained.

"But if he would just let me be a father figure to him-"

"I must remind you, dear, that in this scenario he is still the child and you are the adult. Yes he needs to make an effort himself, but you can't give up on him. Thats not fair to our family," Carolyn spoke.

Eathan nodded. "I wish he didn't hate me so much," he stated.

"He doesn't. He's just scared," Carolyn replied.

. . .

The next day the entire family was taking a small walk throughout the castle.

Alison and Eathan walked ahead, talking and laughing while Alistar trailed behind.

Carolyn slowed her pace to walk alongside her son.

"He's trying, you know," Carolyn muttered.

"He shouldn't. I'm not his problem.... the only reason I'm in the same room as him is because Rosa, and the kids are with Ella and Eli," Alistar muttered.

"Alistar, I'm sorry about what John did to you. And I'm sorry I couldn't stop it.... but John was not your father. Not in the way that matters. And Eathan is trying so hard to be that for you, but you have to let him," Carolyn stated.

Alistar sighed and looked away stubbornly.

Carolyn sighed as well before wlaking up to her daughter and whispering so only she could hear.

"We need to stick them in a room together. Alone," Carolyn whispered.

Alison raised an eyebrow before glancing back at her melancholy brother.

"Agreed. I know just the place," Alison whispered in response.

The group made their way up to one of the towers until they were outside in the spotters section of the tower.

"Uhhhh Mom. What are we doing up he-"

The door below them closed and locked.

"Carolyn what in the world are you doing?" Eathan asked as he sped to the door, attempting to open it.

"You boys need to talk and this is the only way it's gonna happen!" Carolyn shouted.

"What- ALICE. open the door!" Alistar exclaimed.

"Sorry, big bro! You need to get past your differences!" Alison shouted.

"Oh my go- come on, really?!" Alistar exclaimed, annoyed.

No answer.

"Alison Brennan if you don't open the door right now I'm telling mom about the ferret!" Alistar yelled.

Still no answer.

Alistar sighed harshly and sat back against the bricks of the tower.

"Girls come on. It's supposed to be incredibly hot today!" Eathan yelled only to glance over and see lots of water. "Damn," he muttered.

The boys were quiet.

Eathan paced back and fourth nervously.

"Can you stop? I'm trying to focus on not looking down or realizing how high up I am," Alistar stated.

"I'm sorry, kid. I pace when I'm nervous," Eathan replied.

Alistar rolled his eyes.

Hours passed and the heat got bad.

Alistar sat there, sweating.

"Jesus christ. Hey it's on them. If Rosa finds out that I'm dead of heat stroke cause of this, she'll go after Mom and Alice. Either way I'm safe," Alistar muttered.

".... why don't you like me?" Eathan asked.

"What do you care, old man? It's not like I'm ending your relationship with my mom," Alistar stated.

"No.... but I want to marry your mother.. I want her son to at least like me... and from what I hear, your biological father wasnt..... a good person," Eathan explained.

Alistar stayed silent.

Another hour passed.

"Jesus. Fuck this," Alistar muttered before practically peeling his shirt off.

Eathan's eyes widened.

All of the scars on his body looked bad....

"Kid-"

"I'm not your kid," Alistar muttered.

"What did all that?" Eathan asked.

"..... My dad," Alistar answered.

All eathan could do was stare with worried eyes.

"Look its.. it was a long time ago okay? Its..... fine i guess," Alistar muttered.

"He did that? How?!" Eathan asked.

"What you've never been whipped before?" Alistar attempted to joke, earning a worried look. "Look it's not your business. Leave me alone," Alistar huffed.

"Why do you do that?" Eathan asked.

"What?"

"Why is it, everytime we get comfortable talking about anything at all, you immediately pull away. I'm trying so hard to be a father figure to you, but you just won't accept my sympathy!" Eathan explained.

"I don't want your stupid sympathy! I get enough of it from my family all because I was my dad's physical pushing bag target. You dont know me! you shouldn't have to know me! What do you even fucking care?! I'm only a few years away from 30 and you treat me like im 17!" Alistar yelled.

"Yeah because you never got to BE 17, Kid!"

"Call me 'kid' ONE more time I swear to god!" Alistar shouted.

"I do that because you never got to be a kid! You never got to play, or have a childhood!" Eathan yelled.

"Yeah well its not you problem, dad!" Alistar shouted.

It went silent, the only thing being heard would be the birds and the breeze.

Alistar's eyes were wide as his hands shook.

Eathan made his way toward Alistar and pulled him into a hug.

Alisyar broke down crying in his Dad's arms.

Moments passed before the door opened.

Alistar and Eathan jumped apart and immediately ran into the cold castle.

"Oh thank God for stone walls-" Alistar sighed as he leaned against the cold stone.

"How'd it go?" Carolyn asked.

".... from my perspective? It went well," Eathan stated with a smile smile.

"Duuuuude you're practically melting!!!!" Alison laughed as she patted her brother's back.

"You know what, Alice? At least I got a tan!" Alistar stated.

"And you're still too white," Alison smirked.

"We're literally the same skin color, you ass," Alistar glared.

"Oh stop insulting one another! For goodness sake!" Carolyn scolded before wlaking with her kids.

Eathan trailed behind, only to be met with Alistar right next to him.

"I'm sorry about how I've been acting.... I have a lot of suppressed trauma.. my friend has been trying to work on being more open to emotions with me," Alistar stated.

"Its okay kid. Are we good?" Eathan asked.

"We're good, dad," Alisyar smiled.