#mayor kline x reader
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Out of the frying pan, into the fire
Summary: Your lover (the asshole mayor of Hawkins) surprises you by granting your wishes (intimate time with the town's broody pill-popping drunk womanizer, the chief of police). <3
A/N: I was just trying to please myself and I hope it will please some fellow freaks out there XD This could be read as the start of a series, and I can't promise myself I won't write anymore. I just love them too much.
Written with reckless abandon and no proofreading
Pairing: Larry Kline x fem!Reader x Hopper
CW: everybody is an asshole in a playful way, oral, PIV (no condoms, but really, this is a fantasy. Be responsible etc), size kink (hopper is big), some degradation, me trying to write dirty talk should be a CW for itself.
You had to admit you didn’t make the best choices. This one was bad, but god, if it wasn’t fun.
Larry was adjusting his cuffs and tie right before going on the little stage for his speech. He looked at you over his sunglasses and smiled brightly, raising his eyebrows. You smiled back, and nodded. His smile turned into a smirk, and he licked his lips.
You could feel yourself getting wet. That was a promise.
He winked and marched to the center of the stage, leaving you to think.
Larry Kline, the mayor, was an asshole. You worked for him, and you were fucking him. There was no other word for what the two of you were doing.
You sighed. Here is the thing: he can be very seductive. And he is gorgeous. The first time you gave in to your desire (and curiosity), you didn’t have a lot of expectations. You thought he was too much of a peacock to be any good in bed, too arrogant.
Somehow into that selfish head of his, Larry understood that sexual power, being good in bed, meant focusing on giving pleasure. It was easy to get addicted. You did. Sometimes you thought of his wife and of any other women he was probably fucking around (and with the amount of time he spent with you, you were his favorite, or he didn’t need to sleep), but you always fell when he licked his lips at you, the intense, focused look. As if he was going to devour you right then and there. It was as if it was taking all of his control not to pounce on you.
You just gave in. Happily.
And as he took you to distant motels, restaurants, and even bars (he wanted to dance with you; that was a whole other story), Larry used his charm to pull your deepest, darkest desires from you. He listened to your dirty confessions, smiling attentively, making small playful comments.
He remembered them. All of them.
Larry was always delighted to fulfill your fantasies.
Sometimes you wondered if it was a kind of love.
You sighed as Larry spoke, wondering how it would be to have a real, normal relationship with someone good for you.
You had to admit your taste for men didn't help. The only other man you found attractive in the town was the broody pill-popping drunk womanizer, the chief of police.
You scanned the crowd, and there he was, towering over everybody, looking annoyed, as always. Hopper rarely smiled; even when he did, it didn’t look natural. He was the talk of the town. He had fucked half the community, and they did TALK.
Hopper was all big. And the word in the town was that he knew how to use his body.
You were always waiting for new stories in the gossip mill, more dirty details; with the way Larry occupied your time, it was all you could do.
Hopper moved slightly, and you realized you got caught staring. He smirked, looking surprised. Then he looked to your right. A bit up.
You followed his line of vision and found Larry looking at you with that damned smirk of his. He looked at Hopper, then back at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. He had just finished the speech and was walking back to your side.
“Really?” Larry chuckled amusedly as he stood before you, legs apart and hands on his hips. “Him?”
You blushed and looked down awkwardly.
“Okay, then.” Larry laughed, cocking his head, as he touched your arm and led you to a more private area, away from the crowd. “I’m just surprised, sweetheart. I have seen your wandering eyes, and I didn’t think that was your type.”
“C’mon, Larry,” You blushed. “You don’t need to make fun of me.”
“Aw, darling. I’m not making fun of you. I’m just surprised.” He licked his lips and grinned.
He did need to create a relationship with Hopper, at least get on good terms with the chief. Maybe you could help him. Larry saw his sneaky glances and he was sure Hopper would have already put his moves on you if you didn’t work for him. At least the man was respectful of boundaries.
You awkwardly looked up at Larry, and he smiled, almost sweetly.
“It’s ok, darling.” He held your hand discreetly, caressing your hand with his thumb. He had that impish smile of his, and you know he was already scheming something.
You couldn’t help but feel somewhat excited.
You had already forgotten the conversation when it finally happened…
You were on your knees, half tucked into Larry's desk, his cock sliding gently through your lips. Larry was leaning back, cupping your cheek with one of his hands, his thick fingers sliding against your cheek as he looked down at you, his expression almost loving.
“You know your safeword, don’t you, darling?” His fingertips slid gently over your skin, then buried themselves in your hair, as he sighed. Larry was leaning back, looking down at you with a gentle smile as he played with your hair. You nodded. “Darling… I want to hear you.”
“Red.” You mumbled around his cock and he laughed, tugging on your hair. You sighed and pulled back, sitting on your heels. “Red.”
“Good.” He shifted on the chair and leaned forward, smirking. “We are going to play today.” He caressed your cheek, his eyes softening, as he looked into yours. “I’m going to have a meeting now. And you’re going to keep sucking me. If you want to stop, you can pat my leg. Whatever happens, if you want to stop, just say your safeword, don’t worry about us getting caught. I can deal with it.”
“Don’t worry.” You nodded, smiling. “I know.”
”Good.” Larry said, still smirking, and he had the audacity to wink. You chuckled, shaking your head, his hand gently caressing your hair. He looked into your eyes for a moment, then tugged your hair, directing you back to his cock. “Be a good girl for me.”
You went back to sucking him, slowly, gently sliding your tongue over and around the head. Larry moaned, back to playing with your hair.
After a while, you heard a knock on the door, the sound of it opening, and then the secretary’s voice: “Chief is here”.
You whimpered, Larry covering your noise with his voice.
“Good, let him in. And you can take your lunch.” He said, smiling brightly.
The door closed, and after a while it opened again, heavy steps following. Larry combed your hair with his fingers; he leaned forward, legs apart, pulling your head, sliding his whole cock into your mouth, and keeping you in place. You exhaled a shaky breath, eyes fluttering close. His hand moved soothingly over the back of your head.
“What do you want?” Hopper gruffed, followed by a thump.
“I want to bury the hatchet, Jim.” Larry said, very matter of fact. “We both have our differences, but we can at least be civil in public.”
“You’re just worried about your image,” Hopper scoffed.
“Yes, I am! And you should be too, you’re the chief of police.” Larry tugged on your hair, letting you breathe. He let you pull away a bit, but kept your head still, his cock resting against your tongue. You breathed through your nose, slowly, calmly. “And to seal this I have a gift for you!”
“What the fuck, Larry.” Hopper chuckled low.
“I saw the way you look at my assistant,” Larry said, softly. Then he added, quickly, probably to placate the giant in front of him. “Hey, I understand. She’s adorable, funny, smart… But there is something even better about her.” His cock hardened even more in your mouth, oozing precome in pulses over your tongue. “She’s a dirty little thing, lovely. Such a delightful little slut… You turn her on and she’ll do practically anything… And happily.”
“Kline…” Hopper warned him, but Larry just didn’t care.
“You look at her face, you can’t tell it, but she is a dirty little thing. She just… never lets go. For as long as you wanna fuck her, she’ll take it. Anywhere. I just love having my cock inside her... Hell, I wish I could stake claim to her publicly, she makes me so happy.” You felt his hand on your hair, caressing gently, as he pulsed in your mouth, forcing you to swallow around him. “She begs, Hopper… So beautifully… Anyway, that is my gift for you; I’ll let you play with my favorite little whore.”
The soft scruffle of feet made you wonder what was happening in the room. Larry pulled you forward a bit, his cock still in your mouth; so you open your eyes, looking up. You were already wet, but the sight made you gasp.
Hopper was standing beside Larry, one hand on the back of his chair, towering over the both of you; he looked surprised, his eyebrows arching high, but you could see desire on his face. And his cock slowly hardening in his pants.
“Look at that! Such a good girl.” Larry softly said, before pulling the cock from your mouth and pushing the chair back. He offered you his hand; his other hand gently massaging his own cock. You took his hand and he pulled you from under his desk, making you stand up. “Perfect, look at her.”
You just stood there, with big wide eyes, looking from Hopper to Larry, a bit anxious. Larry winked at you, petting your hand gently. Hopper grabbed his belt with both hands and looked you over, slowly, a small smile on his face.
“I like the idea, but I need to hear it from her.” Hopper cocked his head, eyes focused on yours. “I can see you’re enjoying yourself, with the way you’re squirming, but I need to ask. Are you on board with this, young lady? Can I touch you?” He chuckled as you nodded eagerly. “Words.”
“Yes, please.” You whined, holding Larry’s hand, but leaning towards Hopper. You heard Larry chuckling beside you as if saying ‘I told you so’. “My safeword is red.”
Larry laughed at how eager you looked, squeezing your hand. You looked at him and he nodded to you, leaning to give you a gentle, but passionate kiss. With a wink, he moved away, to the other side of the desk.
You heard the sound of Hopper’s belt clinking as he pulled it open and dropped it on the chair. With a warm smile, he held your hand and placed it on the bulge on his pants.
“Your man made good points,” Hopper said, as you unbuttoned his pants. “And you looked so good with his cock in your mouth….”
You got on your knees so quickly it pulled a chuckle from Larry, and that made Hopper shoot an irritated look at the mayor. Larry just shrugged with a crooked smirk on his face, his hand lazily working his cock.
“So you’re gonna watch,” Hopper growled.
“Yeah, I’m gonna watch,” Larry said, amusedly. “I know for a fact you’re not always careful with the toys, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Fair enough.” Hopper chuckled darkly, playing with your hair. You opened his pants, tugging his underwear down; you couldn’t stop from gasping.
The gossip was accurate. Hopper was huge. it wasn't the length that scared you, but the girth; his cock was thick, and you were suddenly shocked by the realization that he wasn't completely hard.
“I know the women all talk. Is it like you imagined?” Hopper pushed his hips forward; his heavy cock bobbed toward you.
“I wish I…” You said, distractedly, your voice soft. “I mean… I don't have much time to think of these things.” You chuckled softly and sneaked a look at Kline, who just laughed.
Hopper grunted, annoyed, then pushed the head of his cock between your lips. You moaned, feeling him slide his length over your tongue. Your eyes fluttered close and he sighed, leaning and cupping the back of your head.
You felt his thick fingers caressing your hair gently, as he pushed your head to him, slowly. The moment the tip of his cock touched your throat, he grunted; after a gentle prod, he pulled back again, sighing.
You suckled on his cock, gently but eagerly. His hand kept playing with your hair guiding your head; he was fucking your face ever so gently and the realization made you whine.
Your eyes rolled back, and you heard some noise from Larry. He was standing up and moving in the room. It didn't take long for you to hear his voice, his lips close to your ear.
“Thank you, darling,” Larry whispered into your ear. “For being a good girl, for me.”
You whimpered, grabbing Hopper’s thighs. Your eyes closed, focused on Larry’s voice, Hopper’s taste on your tongue. Larry always praised you when you were doing something that felt dirty. He was absolutely shameless, but he knew you were not. So he always gave you what you wanted, and made sure you had to admit to yourself you enjoyed yourself thoroughly. You loved being his ‘little whore’ as he lovingly called you.
“I thought you were just going to watch,” Hopper grunted, but in too much pleasure to sound annoyed.
“I’m helping.” Larry stood up. “We don’t have much time, she needs to be prepared for that monster of yours.”
“Let me do it,” Hopper said, looking into your eyes and smiling, his hands around your face, gently. He pulled from your mouth, sighing. “I wish I had more time to play with you, sweetheart; and I really want to fuck you. Stand up.”
“This is just an introduction. If she likes you, we can set something up.”
“We? So you’re going to watch every time?” Hopper asked Larry, as you stood up. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around you, then his lips were over yours.
“She wants me to watch. She knows I like seeing her enjoying herself.” Larry said, very matter of fact. He was right, you wanted him to watch, to take care of you as you had your fun. “Besides, maybe you get used to me, and we can fuck her together. I’m pretty sure she would love to have you up her ass, while I fuck her lovely pussy.”
Larry knew dirty talk was a weakness of yours and he played the part to perfection. You looked at him, mouth half open, eyes wide, and nodded.
“She really likes dirty talk,” He shrugged, talking to Hopper. “You should try telling her what you want to do.”
Hopper growled, grabbed the hair on the back of your head, and kissed you again, one hand sliding over your back and squeezing your ass.
“Take your panties off and lay on the desk, face up.” He said, softly against your lips.
You did as you were told, as Hopper took his pants off and opened his shirt. You could see he wanted so much more of this encounter. Larry could see it too, and it made him feel proud of you. His beautiful little slut.
Larry fondly looked at you, squeezing his cock, his eyes soft and gentle.
“Look at that.” Hopper muttered to himself, rubbing his thumb up and down your pussy, “Pretty.” He leaned and licked you gently, his pleasure evident in his moans. “So wet.”
You moaned, his voice vibrating against your skin. Larry chuckled, which made Hopper grunt and stand up.
“I really hope you stay quiet next time, Larry.” Hopper almost growled, sneering.
“Next time?” You asked, softly, surprised.
“Of course, sweetheart.” You could feel Hopper’s cock, the head thick and hard, pressed against your hole. “If this hole feels half as good as your mouth, there will be several next times.”
He thrusted, pressing the tip of his cock lightly into your hole repeatedly. You relaxed, moaned and he inched forward, then pulled back, going back to his gentle thrusting. You whimpered at his size. There was no pain, just an exquisite burning as he kept moving, teasing.
“That’s just the tip, baby.” Hopper grabbed your hips, tense. You were so warm, so tight, his whole body screamed for him to just bully his cock into your cunt in one thrust. You grabbed his hands, as he kept moving, inching inside you every few thrusts. “Gonna make it fit, don’t worry, sweetheart.”
Larry watched, from the side, smiling. You were beautiful, wide eyed, your eyes blinking back tears, your mouth half open in sweet agony. Hopper growled, trying to control himself. Larry understood perfectly how Hopper felt that moment; he had been in that situation many times with you. He actually appreciated Hopper’s restraint.
“Fuck!” Hopper growled, frustrated, squeezing your hips.
“Right?” Larry moaned softly, Hopper’s growls and grunts making him think of how good you felt around him, how tight and warm you were. “She’s perfect.”
Larry’s smile was warm, his eyes kind. He was proud of you, as you bit back your moans and gave yourself into pleasure. The more debauched your behavior, the sweetest he became. His hand moved so slowly. Hopper pushed more of his cock inside you, and your eyes rolled back.
“Yeah.” Hopper pushed, and you felt his balls, resting against your ass. Your body went slack from the sensation; you felt deliciously full, and it was too much, but you felt so delighted that you could take it all. “You’re lucky he found you first. This way you can have both of us. I would never share. You should thank Larry.”
Hopper grabbed your face and turned you to the blonde man, as he started to thrust, now his whole length sliding into you. You were filled to the brim, stretched beyond belief, the feeling so powerful it overcame all your senses, short-circuiting your brain. He had just started and you were already too close, your body slack on his hands.
“Thank Larry.” Hopper growled, grabbing your throat and squeezing gently. “Be the good little slut I know you are and thank him.”
“Thank you, Lawrence.” You gasped, and your words came out almost as a moan. Larry watched you closely, his pleased smile even wider now.
“You know your pleasure is my pleasure, darling.” Larry said; his honeyed voice, so filled with awe and joy, sent you into your orgasm. You felt yourself tighten impossibly, Hopper’s thrusts got harder as you came around him, and he just lasted a few more thrusts.
You panted, eyes closed, your body still trembling in the aftershocks of your pleasure. Hopper slid from you, gently thumbing your clit.
“Thank you.” Hopper said, for no one in particular. He pulled his pants up, and Larry, king of self control and delayed gratification, tucked himself into his pants. He quickly buttoned his shirt and soon the only evidence of what happened was your body, sprawled on Larry’s desk, come trickling from your hole. You felt gloriously dirty and the whole situation just made you want it to start all over again.
Hopper moved to the door, but hesitated. He turned back, hands on his hips.
“Look…” He said, gently. “I’d love to have dinner sometime. Talk about turning this into a more permanent arrangement.”
“Are you trying to bully yourself into my relationship, Jim? That’s low.” Larry laughed, and you chuckled, sitting up, watching both men.
“Had to try, pussy’s that good.” Hopper winked at you and quickly left the office.
“The audacity, for fuck’s sake!” Larry laughed, turning to you and pushing you to cuddle in his sofa. He arranged your body over his, and just caressed you, moving his hands all over your body. “Did you have fun? Was it as good as your fantasy, darling?” He teased.
“He’s impressive. It’s way too much, but man… It’s impressive.” You chuckled, nuzzling his neck, kissing his chin.
“Ooooh, but you like when it’s too much, don’t you? My sweet slut…” Larry tilted your chin up and kissed your lips. You blushed, your pleasure evident.
“I keep thinking of you talking about him fucking my ass.” You confessed softly.
“Would you like that?” Larry asked, brushing his lips against your ear. “He would be overjoyed, I bet. I don’t think there are too many brave little sluts out there who would want that challenge.”
“Fuck, Larry.” You shivered. “I’m getting wet again.”
“Good.”
#mayor kline x reader#mayor kline smut#I think i am the first in this wild land#but damn#i love Cary Elwes and I can't help myself#come join me in the sewer#jim hopper#jim hopper smut#hopper smut#jim hopper x fem!reader#chief jim hopper#jim hopper x reader#jim hopper x you#stranger things smut#mayor Kline x Reader x Hopper
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𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥! ,
(OS Steve Harrington x fem!reader Kline x Robin Buckley)
summary: you, Steve’s ex-girlfriend, bounce out of town because of your dad’s passing. You decide to swing back during the holidays after your big transformation, only to stumble upon this chick who’s feeding into your sensual cravings.
word count: 11k +
warnings: infidelity, oral sex (receiving, female), homophobia, lesbianism, two-year age difference (both are older), kisses, inexperience, scissoring, no cuddling after sex, caught by a bystander.
a/n: i wrote this bored, so there’s a bit of filler. not recommended for folks craving instant action, there’s some backstory here. can’t promise it’s all good, wrote it while watching a movie lol
masterlist
━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━
Indeed, your life seemed like a modern fairy tale, but with a touch of irony. Being the daughter of Mayor Laurence ‘Larry’ Kline, your existence was wrapped in an aura of privilege and power. However, not everything that glitters is gold, and behind the facade of perfection, secrets and uncomfortable truths were hidden, but you ignored them.
Since childhood, you were the center of attention, not only for being the mayor’s descendant, but also for your innate charisma. Your room was a sanctuary of toys and luxuries: shelves filled with porcelain dolls with glassy eyes that seemed to follow you around, drawers overflowing with colorful ribbons that adorned your hair, and a vanity covered with imported makeup you hadn’t even fully learned how to use. Your clothes were never repeated. You had a wardrobe that rivaled the most exclusive shops, with designer dresses and shoes that squeaked when you wore them for the first time. The attention you received was constant and sometimes overwhelming. Boys and girls your age looked at you with a mix of admiration and envy, while adults treated you with a deference that bordered on servile. And then there was Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, the golden boy of Hawkins, your favorite plaything, whose attention seemed to be the most coveted prize. His charming smile and perfectly styled hair were the dream of many, but he only had eyes for you. However, even that perfect relationship had its cracks, its secrets that only you knew, since you had been fortunate enough to snatch his virginity.
With every step you took down the hallway, the murmur of conversations mingled with the sound of your little platforms. Your pastel yellow Chanel skirt was like a ray of sunshine amidst the monotony, drawing looks that oscillated between admiration and envy. You felt as if you were on an impromptu catwalk, with the school hallways transformed into your personal stage.
Your best friend, always by your side, shared your confident and elegant attitude. Although rumors said her financial situation wasn’t as comfortable, her demeanor and style left no doubt that she was up to the challenge. Together, you formed a dynamic duo, two fashion forces in a sea of sportswear and uniformity.
As you passed by Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, the couple of the moment, you felt a spark of satisfaction. Despite their smiles and the image of happiness they projected, there was an open secret that everyone in the school knew: Steve was with Nancy trying to fill the void you had left, just as he does with all the girls. His presence by her side was only a shadow compared to the memories he shared with you. It was a game of appearances and hidden emotions, a delicate dance of glances and whispers that intertwined in the everyday life of the school day. And in that dance, you held the baton, aware of every movement and the melody that only you could orchestrate.
Every time you approached Steve, your steps were confident and your presence unmistakable. You could see how his world paused for a moment, how his eyes left whatever had captured his attention to meet yours. Even in the most unexpected moments, like when his lips were about to touch Nancy’s, he would pull away, as if an invisible magnet was drawing him towards you.
“Hi, Stevie…” you would say with a warm voice and a tone that resonated with a mixture of respect and genuine affection. It wasn’t just a formality imposed by the long-standing friendship between your father and his, but a gesture you sincerely enjoyed.
His response never changed: a silly smile, one of those that appear without permission from the brain and speak more of feelings than words. It was a smile that didn’t need embellishments or explanations, that said “Glad to see you…” without needing to utter a single syllable. And although he would never admit it out loud, you knew that smile was just for you, a small secret shared in the midst of daily routine.
With a subtle yet meaningful gesture, you ran your tongue over your lower lip, a slow and deliberate movement that didn’t go unnoticed. Your eyebrows arched slightly, an unequivocal signal that only he could decipher. You looked him up and down, a quick but intense scan that confirmed the mutual attention. Then, with a grace that seemed as natural as breathing, you decided to continue on your way, letting the pastel yellow skirt sway gently with each step you took.
To any casual observer, your behavior was nothing more than a mundane greeting, one of those social exchanges that fade into the collective memory of everyday life. However, what they were unaware of was the espionage game hidden behind that facade of normalcy. That “Stevie” pronounced with a particular cadence and that raising of eyebrows were the secret code, the agreed signal that indicated it was time to act.
He, knowing its meaning, didn’t hesitate for a second. Anything he was doing was suspended, abandoned without remorse.
With the mental agility of an experienced spy, he turned to Nancy with an apologetic expression on his face. “Nancy, I’m sorry, but I need to check something on the sound system,” he said, his voice attempting to sound casual but unable to fully hide the underlying urgency. “I think I left something on and I don’t want it to overheat.”
Nancy, accustomed to his sudden technical disappearances, nodded with a understanding smile. “It’s okay, Steve. Go and fix whatever you need,” she replied, releasing him with a gentle pat on the arm.
His steps quickened, driven by the urgency of that silent call, heading towards the stairs hidden behind the locker rooms. It was a ritual they had perfected over time, a dance of glances and gestures that communicated much more than words ever could…
The muffled whisper faded into the dimness, a secret confessed only to the dancing shadows around. Each touch of his tongue was a promise, a silent oath igniting a cascade of sensations, a rushing river flowing through every fiber of your being, and especially through your thighs. You grasped his hair, those rebellious strands privileged only to be tousled by your fingers, while struggling to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to sweep you away. The coolness of the stone against your back was an anchor, the sole reminder that you still belonged to this world, intensifying the clandestine atmosphere of pleasure you both shared.
In the dimness of the old stairs, the world narrowed down to the haze around you and whispers. The flickers of light that seeped through played hide and seek among the forgotten corners, barely revealing Steve’s silhouette. His face, adorned with cute moles forming constellations, was hidden in the depths of your skirt, a mystery, an enigma defying reality with his presence. Despite the faint darkness surrounding you, your eyes had adapted enough to distinguish his, shining with a fierce passion, an uncontrollable flame consuming the air between you, making you tremble even more. Every stroke of his tongue, every suction, was a torment and a pleasure intertwined dragging you towards a forbidden ecstasy.
The echo of your moans intertwined with the gentle murmur of the wind, creating a symphony of desire in the air charged with anticipation. With each movement, each touch, the heat of your bodies intensified, merging into a whirlwind of burning sensations. One of your hands, trembling with excitement, clung firmly to the wrought iron railing, while your legs tensed involuntarily as Steve’s lips explored every nook of your intimacy. “Mhhm, right there, Stevie,” you whispered between gasping breaths, letting out a more intense moan as you felt the pressure of his mouth against your center of pleasure. The strength of your hands unconsciously squeezed his face between your thighs, plunging him even deeper into the vortex of your desire, while the essence of your excitement flooded his senses.
Steve’s grunts resonated in the space between your legs, causing his lips to vibrate slightly against your sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being. Every movement, every sigh, was a dance of shared ecstasy, leading you to the edge of the abyss of pleasure.
Moaning in response to every caress, every suction, you surrendered completely to the frenzy of the moment, feeling as if you were about to unleash heaven in an uncontrollable explosion of ecstasy.
A few seconds later, after a symphony of intense suctions and wet licks, you surrendered to the rush of pleasure and came in Steve’s mouth. He was kneeling in front of you as you leaned over him, your dripping pussy releasing your essence onto his eager lips. Steve welcomed your ecstasy with a smile radiating excitement, his eyes shining with shared passion, and his cock, of course, barely contained in his too-tight pants, scarcely visible but hinting at the unrestrained desire consuming him. Steve’s gaze, filled with satisfaction and lust, locked onto yours as he savored every drop of your essence as if it were the most exquisite nectar.
His lips, wet and eager, continued to explore your intimacy with a devotion that left you breathless, while his skilled tongue continued to provoke waves of pleasure that coursed through every fiber of your being.
You could feel the force of his desire pulsating against your skin, his eager hands seeking contact, craving more of you even in that moment of shared ecstasy. The sexual tension that had built up between you reached its peak, manifesting in the urgency of his movements and the desperate hunger of his lips against yours. But before you let him kiss you, still reeling, you gently pushed him away, looking him up and down with an expression of superiority, as you always did.
“Don’t think I’m gonna kiss you, screw you, or anything like that. I just wanted you to eat me out, nothing more. Don’t feel like doing anything else with you. Let your little girlfriend Nancy suck your dick. I’m out,” you said, adjusting your skirt, forgetting something but leaving as quickly as possible to avoid having to talk to him, as usual.
Little did you know, you had left your delicate lace thong there, forgotten alongside Steve, the masochist who was always lurking. Steve knew that you two no longer had the same connection as before, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get closer to you. This time, he decided to seize the opportunity, knowing he would never have the intimacy with you that he desired as in the old times.
Without wasting a moment, Steve picked up your thong soaked with your fluids and tucked it into the back pocket of his pants. With stealthy movements, he slinked towards the locker room bathrooms, with the sole intention of finding relief for his throbbing cock.
He sat cautiously on the toilet lid, closing the bathroom door with a firm twist of the key, thus ensuring his privacy. With a mix of palpable anxiety and desire, he prepared to indulge in solitary pleasure, with your image ever-present in his mind.
With trembling hands, he retrieved his wallet, a treasure he guarded jealously, and from it, he pulled out a photograph of you. In the image, you looked radiant, modeling one of his T-shirts, your delicate nipples barely outlined in the fabric. With a gaze fixed on your face, his fingers caressed the image with devotion, as if they could touch your skin through the paper.
In addition to the photo, he pulled out the thong you had previously forgotten, a garment that became a tangible symbol of your past encounters, as it had been a gift from you when you had been dating. Carefully, he wrapped his erection with the soft fabric, feeling the familiar texture and the echo of your presence in every fiber. The combination of the no longer so warm creamy fluid and the soft fabric triggered a wave of pleasure that immediately brought him to the brink of ecstasy. A slight moan escaped his lips as he surrendered to the frenzied rhythm of his own hand, immersing himself in a world of fantasies where only you occupied his mind.
“I’m sorry, Nancy…” he murmured with a choked voice, while his fingers explored the soft skin of his erection, sensitive and sore from the accumulated tension. His eyes were fixed on the photograph he held with reverence, your image shining before him.
Every detail of your face captivated him: your rosy, provocative lips; your pronounced eyelashes framing eyes full of mystery and seduction; your beautiful hair gracefully waving around your face. Everything about you delighted him, from the elegance of your gestures to the intensity of your gaze.
But despite his fascination, a feeling of resentment stirred within him. He hated how sometimes you could be so stubborn, so insensitive to his desires and needs. The tension between you grew with each encounter, fueled by your whims and his repressed frustration.
With a sigh laden with mixed emotions, he surrendered to solitary pleasure, each caress a blend of desire and desperation. Though he loved you madly, sometimes he wished you could understand what he felt, what he needed from you beyond appearances.
After reaching climax twice, his still labored breathing echoed in the silent locker room. A thin layer of sweat beaded his forehead, a testament to the intensity of his emotions released in those moments of solitary ecstasy. Small droplets of his essence escaped his body, lightly staining the locker room floor, marking the territory of his unrestrained passion.
With trembling hands, he adjusted his tight pants, still feeling the buzz of pleasure resonating through his body. The air was laden with the scent of desire, permeating the environment with the intensity of their intimate encounter.
With determination in each step, he headed towards his last class before lunch. Although his mind still buzzed with images of your face, his body was now infused with a sense of calm and satisfaction. He had released the accumulated tension, at least for a moment, and was ready to face the rest of the day with renewed energy.
━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━
The rain pounded the pavement with a fury that seemed personal, each drop an accusation against the city asphalt. Amidst this storm, the Family Video store stood like a beacon for movie lovers, its flickering sign battling the darkness imposed by the whims of the weather.
Robin held the umbrella with a steady hand, protecting not only her own hair from the rain but also that of her companion in discussions and confidences, Steve. With his gaze fixed on the trunk of his car, Steve rummaged through forgotten tools and objects, desperately searching for the small lamp that would allow them to continue their work in the video store.
“How could you be into Kline’s chick, dude? She’s just as gross as her daddy, I don’t get it,” he said, his voice barely audible over the constant drumming of the rain. The question was not only a questioning of shared tastes but an echo of a deeper rivalry, one that extended beyond romantic preferences and touched the fiber of their friendship. “I still don’t get why you’re into the same girls as me, man,” he continued, his frustration growing with each word, as if the same drops falling from the sky fueled his discontent.
Robin, with a patience found only in those who have weathered countless storms, both meteorological and emotional, responded with a calm that contrasted with the agitation of the night. “I just have good taste, Steve.”
Finally, Steve’s fingers stumbled upon the object of his search. With a sigh of relief mingling with the dampness of the air, he grabbed the lamp and closed the trunk with a thud that resonated in the stillness of the night. Both were splattered with the treacherous drops that had accumulated their weight on top of the car, a small victory of the storm over their efforts. The dimness of the Family Video store enveloped Steve and Robin like a blanket, darkness interrupted only by the erratic flashes of lightning seeping through the windows. “Good taste? She was straight-up trouble, Rob,” he murmured, his voice echoing in the emptiness of the store. The shelves, normally full of life and color from the movie covers, now seemed threatening shadows in the darkness. “I went out with her, and I can tell you, it wasn’t a great experience, apart from the sex, of course,” he continued, his tone a mix of regret and disdain. As he closed the soaked umbrella, drops of water detached and joined the chorus of rain pounding outside. He placed the umbrella by the door, like a forgotten guardian, and shook his hair, trying to rid himself of the invading moisture. He pulled out a mini mirror, the surface reflecting a face marked by the tumultuous night. He checked his hair. With a sigh, he continued to the counter, where he deposited the small lamp, its light a promise of warmth in the cold that engulfed the place.
“You went out with that hottie?! I might start believing that whole thing about ugly dudes scoring the hottest girls…,” Robin joked, her laughter a flicker of light in the darkness, as ephemeral and bright as the lightning outside. She stepped aside, leaving space for Harrington, in a gesture of camaraderie, unable to give him a friendly punch on the arm.
The tension between Steve and Robin was palpable in the charged air of the Family Video store. “She wouldn’t even look twice at you… she’s super straight. I even think she was homophobic…” Harrington said, his voice tinged with a jealousy that seemed to drag shadows from the past, shadows of a high school era that both had left behind, or so they thought.
“Well, I’ll just turn her from phobic to homo, easy,” Robin retorted, her eyebrows raised in a playful challenge, a joke meant to lighten the mood but only served to bring Steve a flood of memories, flashbacks he’d rather keep buried.
“Ugh, don’t do that!” Steve complained, his patience wearing thin like the tape of an old VHS movie. Robin, feeling the weight of her friend’s irritation, let out an exasperated sigh.
“Well, I won’t breathe either if that bothers you too, for god’s sake…” she said, rolling her eyes in a theatrical expression of frustration before walking towards the back room.
Leaving he alone at the counter, the echo of her footsteps mingled with the buzz of burnt fuses and the murmur of rain against the roof. Steve stood there, in the dimness, his mind navigating the turbulent waters of his adolescence. He remembered you, with your fiery temper and defiant smile, a presence that had marked his youth and, despite the years and distance, still stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within him. It had been approximately four years since you went to Spain on exchange, four years that had done little to cool the memories Steve held of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed your bad temper, and above all, that body of yours…
The days at the Family Video store passed with the slowness of a slow-motion movie, each moment stretching into infinity. Robin, increasingly immersed in Harrington’s past with that girl, couldn’t help but let the details surface in his mind. “Yes, I… did all that…” he confessed with a blush that didn’t need light to be perceived, speaking of secret encounters on the stairs, those moments stolen from time and curious eyes. “But please, I beg you not to tell Nancy! I’m trying to win her back but she doesn’t know anything about what happened when we were together…” he pleaded, his voice a whisper laden with urgency and fear. Robin’s expression, pale as the moon on a starless night, reflected the surprise and horror of realizing the presence looming behind them.
“Not know what?” asked a sweet voice, as familiar as the melody of a forgotten song. Nancy, with her friendly smile and a small wad of money in her hands, appeared like a figure from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. “What? No, nothing!” he stammered, anxiety building up in his chest like clouds before a storm, desperately seeking Robin’s complicity but finding only the void of a situation slipping out of control.
The door of the store burst open with a bang, like the prelude to a dramatic act in a play. A girl, dressed in clothes where red and black stood out. Her tight leather pants, a torn red top, accompanied by a dark jacket showing signs of being well worn, culminating with the icing on the cake: a flamboyant, teased hair, typical of glam metal enthusiasts. She made her triumphant entrance. In her hands, a movie magazine, her finger marking a page like one points to a destination. “Hey, I changed my mind, I think I’d rather watch Satan’s Mistress, it has…” you began, but your voice trailed off the moment your eyes met Steve’s.
It was a gaze that crossed years of distance, a bridge laid over an abyss of time and memories. Your former partner in sex, passion, and toxic courtship.
The reunion was a whirlwind of emotions, a vortex that swept up the fragments of a past everyone had thought overcome.
Your voice echoed in the confined space of the video store, a reminder of its former sweetness now tinged with the roughness of tobacco. “Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” The Viceroy hung on your lips, a stark contrast against the burgundy tone that adorned them. With a careless gesture, you dropped the magazine you held onto a shelf full of horror movie covers, a sanctuary for lovers of fear and tension. Your black heels struck the ground with determination, each step an announcement of your presence that filled the air with an almost musical cadence. You made your way to the counter, your imposing figure leaning against the collection of VHS and DVDs that decorated the place.
“Keith…” Steve’s voice was a murmur, his eyes scanning the woman standing before him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the change; the woman he knew had been replaced by someone new, someone who defied his understanding.
Robin, on the other hand, couldn’t hide her delight. The feminine arrogance that had characterized the girl in the past had pleased her, but this… this was something completely different. It was a transformation that invited both admiration and bewilderment. “Damn…” exclaimed Robin, not trying to conceal the surprise caused by your daring neckline.
The video store had become a stage for unexpected revelations. Steve, still recovering from the initial impact, found his voice to articulate a question that burned inside him. “W-When did you come back to town?!” His voice trembled, a reflection of the nerves that assaulted him as he evoked memories of a seemingly distant past.
“Not long ago,” you responded with a calmness that contrasted with Steve’s agitation. “My father was murdered two years ago, I don’t know if you remember. So now I’m here to spend the holidays at his house, here in Hawkins.” Each word was pronounced with a serenity that belied the tragedy of your story, while the cigarette smoke curled in the air, as if trying to escape the reality of your words. Your clothing, tight and revealing, seemed like a second skin, outlining every contour of your body with exaggerated precision. Robin, from her corner behind the counter, couldn’t look away. To her, you were like a celestial vision, a fallen rocker angel who had returned with stories of distant worlds.
Nancy had become a mere shadow in those moments. Her original intention had been simple: to rent a movie at Steve’s store, a perfect excuse to spend time with you, now that you had returned. But reality had twisted in a way she couldn’t comprehend. She understood nothing.
Harrington, with a nod of acknowledgment, found himself in a sea of uncertainty, the scene before him causing a growing discomfort. “I’m sorry…” he murmured, looking away towards the ground, a gesture revealing his unease.
“Don’t worry about it, these things happen,” you responded with a voice dripping with unwavering calmness, as you flicked the ash from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. The act led you to approach the blonde girl, whose beauty was as evident as her friendly smile. Returning the smile, you noticed a glint of something undefinable in her eyes, as if you had ignited a spark of emotion within her. “Well, I guess I’ll head back to the car,” you announced, turning with an elegance that defied the gravity of your heels. “Grab whatever movie you want, Nans,” you said with a carefree tone, exiting the store and leaving behind a trail of perfume and mystery. Your steps were confident and graceful, each movement a testament to your ability to walk on those pillars of style as easily as others would walk in sneakers.
Nancy, observing the scene, felt the tension that had taken hold of Steve, his body rigid as if on the verge of breaking. Determined to ease the atmosphere, she approached him with a timid question. “Uh… do you have the movie she mentioned?” Her voice was a whisper, almost drowned out by uncertainty.
He, trapped in his own confusion, couldn’t recall the mentioned title, but Robin, with her ever-sharp attention, jumped to the rescue. “Satan’s Mistress! Yes! A horror movie from a few years back, based on a book, pretty good actually.” Her enthusiasm was palpable, her hands tracing arcs in the air as she spoke and moved with a clear purpose. She found the movie quickly, placed it on the counter, and scanned it, announcing the price to Nancy, who paid with a handful of small bills she held firmly.
Nancy was ready to bid farewell, to leave behind the video store and its memories, but something stopped her. She turned abruptly, as if a sudden idea had crossed her mind, a missing piece in the afternoon’s puzzle that needed to be placed.
Nancy’s proposal resonated in the video store like an invitation to leave the past behind and dive into new adventures. “She’s having a welcome party at her place, so she’ll invite old classmates and all that. Do you want to come?” Her voice was a mixture of enthusiasm and nervousness, aware of the surprise her announcement could cause.
Harrington, still entangled in the threads of the past, was about to decline the offer, his mouth opening to formulate an excuse. But before he could articulate a single word, Robin intervened with an energy that seemed to overflow the confines of the store. “Yes!” she exclaimed, her affirmation so loud and clear it seemed to fill every corner, even suspending the constant buzz of the fluorescent lights.
Surprised by Robin’s vehemence, Nancy gave an awkward smile, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue reflecting her embarrassment. Quickly, she shared the address and time of the party, words that hung in the air before she turned around and walked out of the video store, leaving behind a silence that draped over the place like a blanket.
The silence that had fallen over the video store was so thick it could almost be cut with a knife. The shelves filled with movies seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the next act of this unexpected human comedy.
“Steve?” Robin’s voice pierced the silence, her casual tone breaking the stillness like a stone dropped into a calm pond.
He, still lost in his thoughts, barely uttered a sound resembling an assent. “Mhhm?”
“I think I’ve wet myself,” declared Robin, with a calmness that contrasted with the nature of her announcement.
Steve couldn’t help but react. “Damn, Robin, you’re gross,” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disgust and humor. It was an accusation spoken with the lightness of camaraderie, an acknowledgment of the peculiarity of their friendship that could withstand even the strangest of revelations.
…
The screech of Steve’s car brakes blended with the music emanating from the mayor’s old mansion, an echo of youth reverberating within the walls of a building now housing those who, just two years ago, were teenagers but were now venturing into adulthood. The mansion, with its flickering lights and aura of nostalgia, was a beacon for memories of a simpler time.
Robin, with the grace of someone who had shared countless adventures in that passenger seat, lowered the car mirror and examined her reflection. Her eyes lingered on every detail of her face, ensuring her makeup would withstand the night ahead. Her hair, tousled and free as always, framed her face with a naturalness that needed no adornment. The orange T-shirt she wore, snug and adorned with yellow stripes, seemed to capture the last light of dusk. The flared jeans, swaying with each movement, and the borrowed jacket, a temporary gift from her friend, completed her outfit with a harmony of colors that spoke of her carefree and vibrant personality.
Meanwhile, Steve remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the house looming before them. The mansion brought back memories of clandestine nights, shared laughter, and whispered secrets while climbing the ivy that reached to the window of their old room. Those memories enveloped him like a cool breeze, taking him back to a time when everything seemed possible. Dressed with the same nonchalance with which he faced life, he had made no effort to dress up. His clothes, casual yet stylish in their own way, reflected his attitude towards life: simple, straightforward, and uncomplicated.
The music from the mansion grew louder, as if calling the guests to immerse themselves in the celebration. Robin, giving one last glance at the mirror, smiled satisfied and closed the compartment with a click. Steve sighed, a sigh that contained years of stories and lived moments, and with a complicit smile towards Robin, stepped out of the car.
The song filling the air was a lesser-known classic, “Turn Up The Radio” by Autograph. With its energetic and catchy rhythm, the electric guitar resonated with chords that invited leaving troubles behind and plunging into the euphoria of the moment. The singer’s voice, with its raspy and passionate tone, sang about freedom and youthful rebellion, a perfect anthem for those seeking escape in music. In the front yard, the scene was a living collage of the era. Groups of friends gathered around an Ford Mustang, its doors wide open to share the music emanating from the stereo. Laughter and conversations mingled with the sound of beer cans being opened and the sizzle of a nearby grill where burgers and sausages were being cooked.
The blonde, with her eyes wide open, couldn’t take her eyes off those strangers who seemed to have stepped out of a metal music video. Her fascination with glam style had been born just hours before when she saw you enter the store with that star aura. Curiosity had seized her, and now, seeing you at the door of the house, that curiosity turned into admiration.
You and Nancy were immersed in a conversation, but your sixth sense for important arrivals made you look up just in time to see that duo approaching. An eyebrow raised in a gesture that mixed surprise and interest. Your hair, cut in layers with a precision that only the best stylists could achieve, cascaded around your face, each strand contributing to the impressive volume that seemed to defy gravity. Robin was speechless, her mouth slightly open in a mute expression of amazement. The moonlight reflected on your leopard-print pants, making the wild patterns come to life. The corset you wore, snug and enhancing your figure, was the centerpiece of an outfit that screamed confidence and rebellion. The girl was captivated, not only by your physical appearance but also by the energy you exuded, a mix of mystery and magnetism that irresistibly attracted her. Harrington, on the other hand, seemed overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. With a sudden decision, he chose to withdraw from the scene, seeking refuge among familiar faces. He headed towards a group of former basketball teammates, greeting them with back slaps and knowing smiles. Meanwhile, Robin remained paralyzed, watching you with a mixture of admiration and a new awakening of her own style.
You watched as Steve walked away, leaving the girl alone in the midst of the party bustle. With a carefree gesture, you took the Marlboro resting behind your ear, which sported metallic hoops as witnesses to past rebellions. You lit the cigarette with the flame of a Zippo that gleamed under the starlight and began walking along the stone path, a path that evoked childhood memories and that your father had ordered to be built years ago when the mansion was still a home and not a museum of memories.
“How’s it going, blondie? Do I know you?” you asked with a confidence that seemed to emanate from your very essence, a certainty that charged the air with electricity. Robin, with her golden hair reflecting the neon lights, stood paralyzed, feeling a shiver running down her spine and erasing any other thought from her mind. The orange-haired girl who had captured her attention throughout her time in the band vanished from her consciousness, and even her own name seemed like a mystery.
“Uh-uh, I…” Robin stammered, struggling to find the words as a playful smile played on your lips, noticing her nervousness. You raised an eyebrow, a perfect arch that added emphasis to your playful expression at her discomfiture.
“I think we’ve never met…” you interrupted her attempt to reply, cutting through the air with a certainty that left little room for doubt. “I’d never forget a face like yours,” you concluded, your words hanging in the space between the two of you like a promise or a premonition. You looked her up and down, a scan that was not so much an evaluation as it was a recognition of her presence, her uniqueness. You exhaled the cigarette smoke, and it wafted through the air before dissipating in front of her face, an ephemeral veil that seemed to separate and yet unite two worlds.
Buckley blinked, an instinctive reaction to the smoke wafting through the air, and coughed slightly, a momentary interruption that brought her back to the present. A blush spread across her cheeks, a rosy hue that highlighted the concealed freckles and her eyes, which maintained an innate sweetness. “No, we’ve never met, or at least I don’t think so…” she said with a trembling voice, avoiding your gaze because she knew that if her eyes met yours, the words would be lost in the abyss of her nervousness.
You, with a smile that revealed amusement at her discomfiture, furrowed your brow and took another drag of your Marlboro, keeping the conversation going with an ease that contrasted with her uncertainty. “Uh? How’s that?” you asked amidst laughter, scanning the girl with a gaze that seemed to see beyond the surface.
“Well, we went to high school together, but you’re older than me…” Robin explained, her voice gaining a bit more firmness as the words flowed. You raised an eyebrow, a gesture that denoted both surprise and genuine interest.
“You’re still in high school?” you inquired, exhaling a new cloud of smoke that spiraled into the night sky.
Robin nodded, her gesture accompanied by a shadow of embarrassment at the age difference, and a palpable frustration at not being able to hold a normal conversation, to be that normal girl she wished to be at that moment. “Well, you don’t seem like it… you look great,” you said with a sideways smile, an expression that carried a mixture of compliment and challenge. You looked her up and down, not with judgment, but with an appreciation that made her feel seen, truly seen. You crossed your arms, and the corset you wore emitted a soft creak, a sound that seemed to be in tune with the tension and expectation hanging in the air. Robin, still recovering from the effect of the smoke and the surprise of your approach, found herself in a crossroads of emotions, between shyness and the excitement of being in the spotlight of your attention. She responded to the compliment with a charming shyness, her cheeks taking on a rosier hue as she tilted her head, allowing her short hair to brush against her skin. With a gentle and considerate gesture, you lifted her chin, encouraging her to meet your gaze. “You seem down… want a drink, …?” The pause hung in the air, an invitation for her to introduce herself.
With a frantic nod, as if just understanding the hint, she hurried to respond. “Robin. Robin Buckley. And yes, I’d love a drink. I’d love to,” she said with a voice that almost stumbled over itself, clearing her throat slightly to maintain composure. Your smile widened, and with a conspiratorial gesture, you took hold of your ex-boyfriend’s jacket sleeve and led Robin towards the house. As you walked, you shared your name and asked questions about her life, showing genuine interest in her and her story.
You made two strong drinks and led her to your backyard, a quiet and empty space that would soon be filled with your laughter and conversation. As the night wore on, and after several short trips in search of more alcohol, you both found yourselves laughing and teasing with a familiarity of old friends, which had never existed between you. “I would never have thought of that! She really does look like a Muppet,” you exclaimed, unable to contain the emphasis that alcohol liberated, sharing a genuine laugh with Robin.
The blonde’s confession hung in the night air, a revelation as unexpected as it was sincere. “I still don’t understand how I ended up liking her,” she said, the words escaping her lips before she could catch them and return them to the refuge of her thoughts. It was a moment of vulnerability, a window to her soul that she rarely allowed herself to show. Uncertainty tinged her confession; concern about revealing too much, about crossing an invisible line that could change the dynamics of the night. She didn’t want to talk about her sexuality, not because she was ashamed, but because she didn’t know yours and feared the possibility of making you uncomfortable.
Your response to Robin’s revelation was a hearty laugh, followed by a joke that added lightness to the moment. “I get you, I hooked up with one who looked like Sloth from The Goonies,” you said amidst laughter, referring to the iconic character from the adventure movie, released a year earlier.
Robin, surprised by your comment and the revelation it implied, couldn’t help but burst into explosive laughter, causing her to expel alcohol through her nose. Surprise and hilarity mingled in her reaction; she didn’t expect you to share her inclination, didn’t expect to find someone who resonated with her own experience. Anxiety and nervousness invaded her, a mix of excitement and fear at the possibility of not being alone in her feelings. The night had brought an unexpected chill, and the incident with the drink had left Robin with a wet shirt, making her tremble slightly. Noticing her discomfort, you offered a practical and kind solution. “Come on, I’ll take you to my room to change,” you suggested, guiding her through the party and into the warmth of the house.
Robin entered the room, her gaze roaming over the personal space you now shared. She sits onto the leopard-print quilt, her fingers sliding over the synthetic fur, soft and welcoming to the touch. The music, a constant and rhythmic pulse, filtered through the door, marking the beat of the night.
Meanwhile, you were immersed in the search for the perfect garment in your closet, a collection that spoke of past stories and concerts. You hummed the melody that seeped into the room, the influence of alcohol dissipating enough to allow you to focus on the task. You were looking for something that captured the essence of your new friendship without being overly flashy. Upon returning to the room, you found Robin absorbed in the photographs adorning your walls, images capturing moments of a previous version of yourself, one that contrasted with the person you were now. “What? Surprised? I looked better before, I know,” you said with a playful and ironic tone, depositing a Metallica T-shirt on the quilt and placing a hairdryer next to it, a silent invitation for Robin to dry her wet shirt.
“What?! No!” exclaimed Robin, turning with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment at being caught in her contemplation. “No, not at all… before you were very pretty, but I think… now you are more,” she articulated with difficulty, the words stumbling over each other as she clung to the furniture, seeking physical support for her emotional turmoil. The sincerity of her comment caught you by surprise, raising your eyebrows in astonishment. A smile spread across your lips, and an unfamiliar sensation, akin to butterflies fluttering in your stomach, emerged. It was an emotion you hadn’t experienced in a long time, a recognition that resonated with a part of you that had remained silent.
“Then, do you think I’m pretty, or straight up hot?” you ask, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you take measured steps toward Robin. The distance between you closes with each deliberate move, and though the question hangs lightly in the air, there’s a hint of genuine curiosity in your eyes.
Robin nods slowly, her gaze drifting from your eyes to linger on your lips, as if trying to read every nuance of your expression. “Well, let me tell you, I feel the same about you…” you say, your voice caressing each word, now just inches away from her. The tension between you is palpable, like a spark on the verge of igniting a flame. The air is charged with an electricity only proximity can generate. You can feel the warmth emanating from Robin, and every breath you take is infused with her essence. There’s an unspoken promise hanging in the air, an invitation to cross the invisible line that still separates your worlds.
“The same?” Robin asks, her tone a whisper barely daring to break the silence. Her hand rises, trembling yet determined, and brushes against the fabric of your rough corset as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. “You’re much more than pretty,” she confesses, and there’s weight in her words, a depth that goes beyond mere attraction.
“And how can I be sure you’re not lying to me? What if you’re just saying it to make me feel good?” you tease, puffing your cheeks slightly in a feigned pout that fails to hide the playful sparkle in your eyes. Robin’s hand, which had found its place over the curve of your corset, pauses for a moment, as if your words had planted the seed of doubt. But the smile playing on her lips reveals she’s enjoying the game as much as you are. Through the thick fabric, Robin’s fingers feel the steady rhythm of your breathing, each inhalation and exhalation like a wave crashing against the shore. The closeness between you diminishes even more, and though neither of you mentions it, both can feel the electricity of the moment, as tangible as the fabric between your fingers.
“Lie to you?” Robin replies, her voice low and filled with a warmth that seems to envelop you. “There’s no need for lies when the truth is more enticing.” The confidence in her tone is enough to dispel any shadow of uncertainty, and the way her thumb gently caresses the pattern of the corset is a promise in itself.
Involuntarily, or perhaps not so much, you find yourselves even closer, the distance between you measured not in centimeters, but in heartbeats.
“Why don’t you show me then?” The question leaves your lips with a challenging tone, but your eyes shine with a mix of anticipation and amusement. She, trapped between your body and the furniture, seems to search your gaze for some sign to guide her. The proximity is inevitable, and the tension that had been building now seems on the verge of overflowing.
The space feels charged, each shared breath adding more intensity to the moment. You can feel the slight tremor in Robin’s hands, a vibration that speaks of nervousness and anticipation. The room has been reduced to this small stage where only the two of you exist, and the silence that surrounds you is a silent witness to the connection being forged.
Robin swallows, her gesture almost imperceptible, but you catch it clearly. “Show you, huh?” she says with a voice that tries to sound confident but betrays a trace of vulnerability. “I don’t need words for that.” And with a movement that breaks the last barrier of distance, her lips seek yours in a kiss that promises to be as revealing as the whispered confessions. The contact is soft at first, almost tentative, but soon gains confidence and depth.
Feeling her lips against yours, a spark of excitement ignites within you, and a victorious smile spreads across your face, illuminating the moment with a sense of silent triumph. Each brush of her lips against yours is like a perfectly tuned melody, a symphony of sensations that completely envelops you. With each kiss, you eagerly explore the softness of her lips, savoring the sweetness of the shared moment. As it continues, her hands leave the furniture and find a new refuge on your bare shoulders, conveying a sense of connection and complicity that fills you with joy. This gesture encourages you to deepen the kiss, to fully surrender to the torrent of emotions flowing between you. With instinctive impulse, your hands grip her waist firmly, feeling the firmness of her body beneath your fingers, gently caressing her, lightly scratching with your nails. Determined to explore further, you smoothly slide your hands inside her jacket, where the still damp shirt rests, like a tangible echo of the moments shared that night. The cool, damp texture of the fabric beneath your fingers reminds you of the play of contrasts of the evening, where the warmth of the encounters mingled with the freshness of the unexpected.
As the intensity of the kiss grew, your senses sharpened, capturing every detail of the experience. You could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with yours, creating a dance of sensations that enveloped you completely. When her tongue joined yours in a playful and fiery exchange, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving you only with the rapid pulse of shared passion. The grip on her waist tightened, as if you wanted to merge your bodies in an intimate, fiery embrace. As you pressed your pelvis against hers, you felt the electricity sparking between you, a current of desire flowing freely in the anticipation-filled air. With each touch, each contact, the tension between you reached new heights, leaving Robin trapped between your body and the furniture, with no escape possible. Her soft moans mixed with your own in a symphony of pleasure, every whisper, every sigh fueling the whirlwind of emotions consuming you both. Your hands eagerly explored every inch of her back, every curve, every contour, while their fingers clung to you with an urgency reflecting the unrestrained desire burning within them.
As Robin’s pleasure-filled moans echoed in the room, your own desire intensified, fueled by the sight of them writhing under your control. The need to feel her weight on the furniture consumed you, driving you to lift she and place her where you desired. With determination, you grasped one of her thighs firmly, letting your nails sink slightly into her skin as you lifted her body with one hand, making space on the furniture with the other.
With a swift gesture, you cleared the furniture of all figures and objects adorning its surface, leaving a clear space for Robin. When you finally seated her there, a sigh escaped her parted lips, momentarily interrupting the desire-laden silence enveloping you both. Breaking away from the fierce kiss, a strand of saliva stretched between your lips, a testament to the fervor with which you had surrendered to each other.
As your eyes settled just at the level of her breasts, obscured by the loose fabric of her shirt, your imagination soared, visualizing every curve and contour hidden beneath the cloth. Biting your lower lip eagerly, you seized their buttocks firmly, drawing her body towards yours with an irresistible force. A faint cry escaped Robin’s lips at the unexpected surge of passion, but her hands soon caressed your neck tenderly, desperately seeking your lips.
Playfully, you moved out of her reach, enjoying the seductive game unfolding between you both. Until, finally, you succumbed to the overwhelming desire and united your lips in a kiss even hotter and wetter than before. The taste of her mouth, the sensation of her breath mingling with yours, created a symphony of pleasure that enveloped you completely, making you forget everything but the warmth of the moment shared between you both.
Robin, determined to intensify the moment, decided to encircle you with her slender thighs, drawing your body closer to hers in a gesture filled with desire. You could feel the warmth emanating from her groin, colliding against your corset and eliciting a playful giggle that escaped between your lips, briefly separating you from the kiss. At that moment, Robin noticed the change in your expression and felt momentarily bewildered, thinking she might have done something wrong. She looked at you with a mixture of puzzlement and concern, but before she could articulate a word, you broke the tension with a daring joke.
“I think your shirt isn’t the only thing that got wet…” you said with a mischievous smile, quickly changing Robin’s expression. Without averting your gaze from hers, you slid two of your fingers down her lower thigh with a provocative gentleness, sending a shiver of anticipation through her body. The sexual tension between you intensified, turning the air around you into an electrifying blend of desire and playfulness. “See?” You decided to intensify the game and explore Robin’s groin more deeply, guided by the heat emanating from that area. With bold determination, you slid your fingers downward, finding the place where the heat was most intense. You plunged your fingers into the damp denim fabric, feeling the hot texture and the moisture seeping through it. You were mere millimeters away from her wet pussy, separated only by two thin layers of fabric that heightened the tension and anticipation between you.
For Robin, this experience was almost unfamiliar; she had experienced something similar only once before, so she felt like an inexperienced person in the middle of an ocean of unfamiliar sensations. She didn’t know how to react or what to do, but her breathing became more irregular, and her heart pounded with strength, reflecting the intensity of the moment and her own emerging desire. She opted to tightly close her eyes and squeeze your shoulder, which you found endearing.
Your eyes slid over every nuance of her expression, capturing each change in her features with surgical precision. Every time you increased the pressure of your caresses, you could feel Robin’s body responding with slight tremors, unmistakable signs of her excitement and craving for more. With each calculated touch, your fingers explored the unknown terrain of Robin’s groin, while your lips found refuge on the soft skin of her neck. The atmosphere was charged with palpable tension, as if every sigh were an echo of the passion growing between you.
Meanwhile, your other hand ventured over the smooth contour of her opposite thigh, tracing comforting circles on her sensitive skin. The combination of sensations immersed her in a whirlwind of pleasure and anticipation, caught between the desire to surrender completely and the caution of the unknown.
The slight spasms emanating from her body were like small navigation signals, indicators that you were touching the right places, the access points to her ecstasy. Each brush against that sensitive button was like striking a key on a piano, unleashing a symphony of moans and sighs that resonated in the room like a melody of shared pleasure.
As your lips explored every inch of her neck with devotion, your hands continued their captivating dance over the contours of her thighs, delicately caressing every curve and angle. Robin was completely tense, her body vibrating with anticipation and repressed desire, but her responses were a whispering echo of her longing for more. With a slightly husky voice, you ventured to ask her if she was enjoying it, letting the whisper of your words mingle with the whisper of silk in the air. Her nod was barely perceptible, drowned out by the tension consuming her completely. So, you decided to tempt her even more, offering her the promise of even greater pleasure if she allowed you. Between licks and kisses on her neck, you suggestively slid your words, letting each syllable resonate in the desire-filled air.
With a mischievous smile dancing on your lips, you relished the effect of your words on Robin, observing how her desperation was reflected in every gesture and tremor of her body. You tilted your head slightly, allowing your warm, moist breath to caress her ear, leaving a tantalizing trail of saliva with your hot, eager tongue.
Amidst warm giggles, you ventured to ask a question laden with anticipation and desire, whispering it into her ear with irresistible playfulness. “Have you ever been eaten out?” The tension in the air was palpable, and everything about Robin seemed to bristle at your words. It was evident that this was a new experience for her, an unknown territory that plunged her into a mixture of anxiety and excitement. With a barely perceptible nod of her head, she slowly shook her head, swallowing hard at the prospect of the unknown. In response to her answer, you raised an eyebrow, savoring the anticipation of what was to come. With a suggestive gesture, you licked your lips, fixing your gaze on hers with an intensity that was almost palpable. “Well, then I feel lucky to be the first…” you teased softly, letting out a playful giggle as you lowered your body. You found yourself on your knees in front of her, your face at the level of her crotch still covered by her flared pants. However, the moisture seeped through the denim fabric, revealing the intensity of the desire that consumed her. “Wow… I’ve never seen any girl get this wet for me…” you complimented with a smile, as you began to unbutton the buttons holding her pants, slowly lowering them with your gaze locked on hers.
She slowly raised her hips towards you, making the process easier with a trembling gesture of anticipation and effort.
You tossed Robin’s jeans somewhere in the room, leaving her standing before you in her underwear. She covered herself shyly, lightly squeezing her thighs as she avoided your direct gaze. A silly giggle escaped your lips when you noticed the Care Bears design on her panties, which didn’t go unnoticed by Robin. She felt embarrassed, and you could clearly perceive it in her expression. To reassure her, you emphasized that it was just a joke, trying to lighten the awkward moment and make her feel more comfortable with herself. With a determined yet gentle movement, you carefully parted Robin’s thighs, revealing her panties completely soaked. Every inch of fabric was saturated with moisture, from the waistband to the elastic on the legs. The transparency of the fabric exposed her intimacy, allowing you to see directly her pussy. The inner thighs were damp, and the core of the panties was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, creating an intimate scene charged with anticipation. Although Robin felt vulnerable in that moment, her trust in you was also evident, allowing you to access such a private place of her being. With a soft sigh, you moistened your lips before bringing them closer to her underwear, placing delicate and deep kisses on the soaked fabric. Each kiss elicited louder moans from Robin, whose breathing became irregular as her thighs lightly clenched against your face. You could feel the frantic beat of her heart resonating in the air, as if it were vibrating right down there. With a mischievous smile on your lips, you decided to give a playful lick through her panties, tasting the salty flavor of her excitement on your tongue. You looked up and met Robin’s eyes, whose expression mixed desperation and anticipation. One hand impatiently pushed her hair aside, while the other grasped her right thigh, unsure of what to do with it in that moment of intensity. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could see how her cheeks were slightly flushed with the embarrassment and excitement that engulfed her. With a determined movement, you pushed her panties aside, revealing her wet and eager pussy to your caresses. You began by softly licking her outer lips, enjoying the salty taste of her excitement as you prepared for the task ahead. You could feel the hand resting on her thigh inching closer to your hair, seeking something to hold onto to face the whirlwind of sensations that was about to come. You responded with a smile, ready to give Robin the pleasure she so eagerly craved. When you finally connected your mouth with her pussy, the deep moan that escaped the blonde’s lips resonated in the room. Your first lick was intense, exploring every corner of her sex with a fervor that left no doubt about your desire to satisfy her. Her hand, now gripping your hair, pressed you against her crotch, urging you to continue.
With closed eyes, you surrendered completely to the act, licking fiercely as if you were famished for her. Every encounter of your lips with her pleasure button caused a shiver through her body, accompanied by moans that echoed in the air and fueled your own excitement. You devoted yourself to playing with her, alternating between soft licks and delicate suctions, exploring every fold and crevice of her intimacy with a devotion that knew no bounds.
Robin moaned your name desperately as you devoted yourself to fulfilling each of her desires. With every skillful movement of your tongue, you took her beyond the limits of pleasure, bringing her closer to ecstasy with a mastery that only the deepest desire could bestow. You could feel her on the brink of orgasm, her body trembling with the anticipation of the impending release.
When she finally reached that climax, it was with a burst of pleasure that left her breathless, clinging tightly to your hair and pressing your face against her sex in a desperate embrace. Her confidence grew with each passing second, surrendering completely to pleasure and seeking to satisfy her own needs with a passion that left you breathless.
Your face was soaked with her fluids, every inch of your skin covered by the testimony of her pleasure. The sensation of her essence dripping down your skin added a new level of intensity to the experience, fueling the fire burning within you.
When you pulled away from her pussy after her orgasm, you looked at her with a passion that overflowed all known limits. You were more excited than ever, driven by the desire to satisfy your own needs and to push her to the limit once again.
You wiped your face with your arm and guided her to your bed with an impulse you couldn’t contain. With determination, you positioned yourself on top of her, ready to continue exploring the pleasures that only the encounter between two eager bodies could offer.
As you freed yourself from the garment covering your lower part, you revealed a leopard lace thong that immediately caught Robin’s attention. Her gaze lingered on the revelation of your lingerie, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and fascination. The lack of words from Robin was evident, and you could feel the tension in the air as she processed the situation.
For her, this territory was completely new. She had never experienced anything beyond kisses and hugs, and her sexual education was limited to what she had seen and heard through occasional conversations with friends or what she had heard on television. The lack of practical experience and exposure to explicit material, such as magazines or porn videos, left her without a clear frame of reference to understand what was happening in that moment.
Faced with her confusion, you decided to take the lead, gently guiding her with your actions and words, creating a safe space where she could explore and discover new sensations without fear or pressure. Your intention was to make her feel comfortable and secure in this new territory, and your understanding and affectionate attitude reflected that desire.
With a compassionate smile on your lips, you made an effort to explain the situation clearly and calmly, aware of Robin’s inexperience in this unknown area. The conversation flowed naturally, despite the nerves present in the atmosphere.
Upon hearing your proposal, Robin showed curiosity mixed with a hint of disbelief, which made you chuckle. Her innocent questions reflected her unfamiliarity with the intimate world and made you smile at her candor.
With patience, you assured her that what they were about to do was pleasurable for both, despite the lack of a traditional element. The absence of a “cock” was not an obstacle, but rather an advantage in this scenario, as you pointed out with a mischievous smile as you removed the thong, revealing your own intimacy, which, although not as soaked as Robin’s, throbbed with anticipation.
You guided Robin gently, indicating how to position herself to carry out this new experience. Although she was initially bewildered, she trusted you and followed your instructions, letting herself be carried away by curiosity and the excitement of the moment.
When your soaked sexes brushed against each other, sending a shiver through her entire body, Robin experienced a wave of new and exciting sensations. The friction between your bodies caused an involuntary spasm in her hips, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to move in search of more pleasure. With each movement, she satisfied your need for stimulation, creating a symphony of shared pleasure that enveloped both of you in mutual ecstasy.
With a palpable urgency, you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, rubbing your sex against Robin’s with unrestrained passion. The need for mutual satisfaction drove your movements as you firmly grasped her thigh to keep her in place, ensuring that she could delight in this experience as much as you. Each strategic brush hit precisely the spot that unleashed waves of pleasure in Robin, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy time and time again. Shared moans and lascivious sounds filled the room, mingling with the shared moisture that flooded the air. The intensity of the moment prompted you to change position, placing yourself on top of Robin with the skill of years of experience. With fluid and precise movements, you moved over her pussy with a mastery that only desire and mutual connection could bestow.
As you shifted, Robin’s shirt gradually rode up, revealing her left breast swaying to the rhythm of your synchronized movements. Every movement was a dance of unbridled passion, as her golden hair cascaded over her face and onto the bed, adding a touch of sensuality to the scene. Together, you created a symphony of ecstasy and shared pleasure that enveloped you both in a bubble of happiness and satisfaction.
With each hip movement, the accumulated tension reached its peak until finally, in an explosion of shared ecstasy, you reached climax together. You might have taken a few seconds longer to reach the peak, but the synchrony of your orgasms was perfect, causing spasms and tremors in your intertwined bodies.
“Mhhmm… yes…” A torrent of overwhelming sensations engulfed you, plunging you into an ocean of pleasure and mutual satisfaction. Every muscle tensed and relaxed in harmony with the other, while moans of pleasure filled the room. It was as if time stood still in that moment of shared ecstasy, leaving only the whisper of your ragged breaths and the frenetic beating of your hearts.
After reaching climax, your bodies slowly relaxed, enveloped in a feeling of peace and fulfillment. The intimate connection you had shared left you with a sense of deep satisfaction, strengthening the bond between you and creating unforgettable memories of that unique and exciting experience.
After the shared climax, a cry of excitement escaped your lips, breaking the ecstasy of the moment and separating you from the mess you had caused. “Fuck!” Turning away from Robin, you lit a cigarette with a careless gesture, while smoke curled in the passion-filled air. “You should go with Steve, I’m off for a beer,” you said with the cigarette between your lips, not bothering to search for your underwear, just covering yourself with a skirt you found lying around.
Robin, exhausted and confused, didn’t know what to do as you walked away. She collapsed onto the bed, her body still vibrating with the intensity of the encounter, but her mind flooded with unanswered questions. Nearly 40 minutes later, Steve’s knocks echoed in the hallway, searching for Robin. “Robin?” his voice echoed from afar, opening and closing doors in his frantic search. Steve feared the worst as he approached the last remaining door: yours. Although he had never entered through that door before, always preferring the window, this time he fervently hoped that Robin wouldn’t be there.
“Robin!” he called out loudly, rousing her from her stupor. Steve opened the door with determination, only to be met with the shocking scene of his friend hastily getting dressed, shouting and closing her eyes with a guilty expression.
“Damn it, Robin, seriously?!” his voice was filled with frustration and concern as he watched the chaos before him, not fully understanding what he had just witnessed.
#fanfic#stranger things#stranger things 1#stranger things 4#lesbians#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#smut#robin buckley#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x female reader#robin buckley x you#oneshot#steve harrington oneshot#robin buckley oneshot
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Prompt: "We both kinda escaped the same party and there's only one place to effectively hide from everyone else, I'm sorry but could I please hide in this stupidly claustrophobic spot for just one minute, my heels are killing me?" AU
Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader
Word Count: 3,600
Trigger warning: Partying, alcohol use, drug use.
Author's Note: Happy New Years! Are all of my fics holiday themed now? See ya on Valentine's Day, I guess. Also, I was torn between writing this for Eddie or writing this for Argyle, but I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to nail the dialogue with Argyle- I need to study his character more (aka watch vol. 4 again). I really hope that you enjoy this 100% self-indulgent, steaming pile of crap.
It was Robin's fault, truly.
Steve had originally asked her to go with him to Tina's party, but she wasn't able to get out of work. You already had plans with your mother, a few VHS tapes, and a giant bowl of popcorn, but Steve promised that he would make it up to you in some way, and having something to hold over him was enough to make you reconsider.
Still, you already felt out of place as you sat in Steve's passenger seat picking at the hem of your skirt while he fixed his hair in his rearview mirror. You weren't a huge fan of parties, never had been, especially parties where you didn't drive yourself and therefore could not leave on your own accord unless you wanted to walk a few miles in freezing temperatures.
Steve promised he'd have you home at a decent time, but it was New Year's Eve, and you knew that 'decent time' wouldn't be until at least after the ball dropped. His main objective was Kimberly Kline; a former varsity cheerleader who graduated at the top of her class and the mayor's daughter. According to your best friend, Kimberly had asked him if he was going to the party when she was checking out at the Family Video last week. Steve obviously took that as an invitation, despite not actually being invited.
You were just there as a buffer, in case things between him and Kimberly didn't work out. If they did, you were on your own.
"Your hair looks fine, Steve." You mentioned as he carded his fingers through his silky, brunette locks for what seemed like the thousandth time.
"Are you sure?" He asked. "My head doesn't look too square?"
You sighed and turned to face him. "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but your head has always been and will always be square."
His shoulders dropped as he flipped the visor up and pulled the keys from the ignition. "You know what? That's just great. Thank you, Y/N. Way to boost my confidence."
You pursed your lips to keep yourself from laughing. He rolled his eyes and began mumbling to himself as he climbed out of the burgundy vehicle and shut the door behind him. You let out a chuckle as he dramatically marched off toward Tina's house, leaving you to follow.
"Honestly, Y/N," Steve turned back to you sharply and put his hands on his hips. "I was hoping you'd, I don't know, hype me up and make me feel good about myself. I'm already nervous!"
"Clearly," you laughed as you joined him at his side. "Look, Steve," you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder. "Kimberly Kline would be totally bonkers to not want to hook up with you. So stop worrying about how you look! If that's all she cares about then you're better off honestly."
Steve looked at you sheepishly with a small blush growing on his cheeks. "Thanks, Y/N."
Before you could say anything, an old, white van sped around the corner past the two of you; tires screeching on the asphalt, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes in its wake. You could hear Iron Maiden blaring as the driver came to a hard stop in Tina's front yard, knocking over a large plastic snowman. You rolled your eyes as Eddie Munson slid out of the driver's seat and took a long drag off of the cigarette hanging from his mouth; a bright cloud of smoke hanging in the air as he exhaled.
"What a jerk," Steve mentioned, pulling you from your thoughts.
"Who? Eddie?" You asked.
"Yeah," he replied. "He thinks he's so cool."
"You know, people used to think that about you," You teased, giving Steve's shoulder a little shove as you began walking towards the party.
It didn't take long before you were standing in Tina's kitchen with a plastic cup in your hand. Your head absentmindedly bobbing to the loud pop music playing through the stereo in the living room. The New Year's Eve special was playing on the television but you wouldn't have been able to hear it. Steve had already spotted Kimberly and had downed two drinks before building up the courage to go over and talk to her.
You were leaning up against the counter, making small talk with a girl that had been in the drama club with you for a few years; catching up, talking about work and college, the usual. Steve was on the couch with his arm around Kimberly, talking animatedly with his hands, and she was smiling. He caught eyes with you for a moment and gave you a quick head nod to let you know that things were going well.
A guy you didn't recognize was aggressively making eye contact from his place in the dining room. You looked for a quick exit, knowing that at any moment he would shove himself off of the wall and stagger over to you. Excusing yourself, you tried to make your way towards Steve but were blocked off by a keg-stand in progress. You peered through the party-goers and noticed the guy was just stepping into the kitchen, ducking your head, you didn't have many options other than out the back door or a random door to your left. Wanting to avoid what would absolutely be the most awkward encounter of your life, you slipped through the closest door hoping the stranger didn't notice.
After a few moments, you considered yourself safe and turned to see that you were standing in Tina's pantry, and there, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bag of Doritos in his hand, was Eddie Munson; mouth slightly agape, eyes wide.
"Shit," you blurted. "I didn't mean to interrupt whatever it was you were doing in here." You went to turn and leave, your hand was hovering over the doorknob, but the thought of the creep on the other side made you hesitate. "Actually, do you mind if I hang out in here with you for a minute? I'm trying to avoid some weirdo who apparently was never taught that staring is rude."
Immediately, Eddie's eyes shifted to the floor. "Uh, sure." He replied. You sighed in relief. "Unless you just want me to go out there and kick his ass."
You laughed and sat with your back against the wall opposite him. "I appreciate the offer, but kicking off the new year with an assault charge is probably not a good idea." Eddie smiled in reply and the pantry fell silent. "So what is Eddie fucking Munson doing sitting in Tina Burton's pantry?"
He looked up at you through thick, curly bangs and shrugged. "Came here to do a deal," he motioned to his little black box that you had seen a few times before. "But not really feeling the atmosphere," he drew out. "Too many jocks."
"Isn't that your van parked out front?" You asked, he nodded. "You can always leave."
"Suppose I could," he replied. "But then you'd be stuck in this pantry by yourself with a creep on the loose."
"You'd rather stay here at this lame party, despite the fact that you are completely miserable, for me?" His dark chocolate eyes connected with yours for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was shy. "You flatter me, Mr. Munson."
"What about you?" He asked, turning the tables. "You never really struck me as a party girl. I'm sure you came here with someone."
"I did, yeah, I came with Steve." You replied reaching over and grabbing a handful of Doritos from the bag Eddie was holding.
"Steve?" Eddie asked, his brows raised. "Harrington?" You nodded as you shoved chips into your mouth. "Let me guess, you were supposed to be his date but it didn't work out?"
You almost choked. "No! God, no." Eddie's eyes were probing you for an explanation but you were also hurriedly trying to swallow what was in your mouth before you began talking. "He's trying to get laid, and for fuck's sake, I hope he does. He has been such a little brat lately." Eddie laughed. "I'm his shoulder to cry on in case things don't work out for him."
"Hard to imagine that something wouldn't work out for Steve "The Hair" Harrington," Eddie replied almost critically. He flipped open his little box and pulled out a small, metal tin before producing a pre-rolled joint. Your eyes widened as he stuck it between his lips and pulled a lighter our of his pocket. "What?"
"In here?" You asked.
"You afraid we're going to get in trouble, Y/L/N?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow in your direction before lighting the end of the homemade cigarette. Eddie took a long drag and inhaled the smoke into his lungs and held it for a few moments before exhaling with a loud cough.
"Well, yeah," you replied but still took the joint from Eddie's fingers when he offered it to you. The smoke burned your chest as you inhaled, you couldn't help but cough, choking on the skunky taste before passing the joint back to him.
"You're adorable," he laughed and you immediately pouted. "Yep, that look right there. Let me just-" Eddie placed the burning joint between his lips and held his fingers up in front of his face to mimic a camera, pressing the invisible button with a click sound. "Commit that to my memory." You shook your head and giggled at his antics. "That one, too." He added, clicking his invisible camera, once more.
Sitting here, in the floor of Tina's pantry, you wondered why you hadn't hung out with him more than just the occasional drug deal. You had started buying pot from Eddie in your junior year when his band started practicing in Gareth Emerson's garage, but you had never actually hung out with him outside of that. You'd stay and watch them practice a few songs, but that was about it.
"So do you have any new year's resolutions?" You asked him after taking another hit, not wanting the conversation to die.
"Yeah, graduating," he replied as he sunk back against the wall.
"Any plans on what you're going to do after that?"
"What like college?" He asked taking one last hit before disposing of the smoldering joint in an empty can of beer, you nodded. "I don't really think I'm the college type. Besides, there's no degree for what I want to do."
"So you're going to hit the road?" You asked, "take Corroded Coffin on tour and sell out stadiums?"
"That's the dream," He replied and immediately frowned. "More like a fantasy, really."
"It's not." You reassured him. "There'll be thousands in the crowd screaming your name one day, and I'll be one of them. If I had a permanent marker I'd ask for your autograph now before you get too famous and eventually sell out."
"Never!" He laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say." You teased.
"What about you?" He asked in return. "Any new years plans?"
You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head. You hadn't really given much thought to the new year and you weren't the type to make any resolutions. After all, you lived in Hawkins, Indiana, a place where people didn't really make plans or have any goals outside of settling down and moving up in whatever dead-end job they were working. Every year you'd hear the same shit; "I want to lose ten pounds", "I'm going to stop smoking", "I plan to be more active", or "I'd like to read more books". They'd start off strong, but before January was even over, they'll forget they even set a goal to begin with.
Eddie had lit another joint, waiting for your response but there wouldn't be one. A silence made itself comfortable between the two of you. You could see Eddie was about to say something else, but outside of the pantry, the countdown was beginning; the last few moments of 1985. If you were to make a resolution, now would be the time to do it.
"Ten, nine-"
"We should kiss," you mentioned with a shrug of your shoulders, deciding that your resolution would be to take risks. "Wouldn't want to ruin the tradition."
"Seven, six-"
"What?" He asked, almost choking on the smoke he inhaled from the joint wedged between his fingers. His brows merged together as he coughed.
"Four, three, two-"
"I mean we don't have to," you answered, knowing that he had heard you the first time.
"Happy New Year!"
Eddie paused for just a moment, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip before he moved his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you towards him for a firm kiss. Before you had the chance to fully reciprocate, he pulled away; his eyes searching your features for any sign that he should stop- or continue. Without any hesitation, you snaked your hands around his neck and pulled him back to you, the kiss deeper this time. His lips were hot against yours as his fingers curled into the roots of your hair. Your tongue tangled with his in an eloquent dance that felt so familiar yet brand new.
You pulled away to catch your breath and looked up into his deep brown eyes which were full-blown with lust as he grabbed for you to come closer. Every few moments you'd giggle and he'd smile as you tried to navigate the positioning of your bodies in the small pantry, but your lips still made their way back to each other. His hands pushed your jacket down your shoulders as his lips left a trail of kisses along your neck. You moved to straddle his lap, desperate to be closer to him, but in the move your head collided with the shelf above, sending a couple bags of chips into Eddie's lap instead.
He couldn't help but laugh; his full pink lips stretched into a smile as he took your face in his hands. "You okay, there?"
"Ow," you winced as you rubbed a hand over your head.
"Let me see," he cooed and you tilted your head down to him. He placed a soft kiss on your tender scalp. "All better?"
"Yeah," you sighed. "Just ruined the moment, is all."
Eddie, with your face still in his gentle but calloused hands, placed a lingering kiss on your pouted lips. "You didn't ruin anything," He said softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Besides, we should probably get out of here."
It was hard not to notice the dirty looks on the faces of your peers as you and Eddie emerged from the pantry; some of them even pointed as they whispered to each other.
"Do you see Steve?" You yelled at Eddie over the music. "I should probably let him know I'm leaving!"
He scoured the crowd and shook his head. "Maybe things worked out for him!"
"Maybe!" You shrugged and made your way towards the front door; weaving in and out of the sweaty, drunken bodies. Eddie's hand was in yours so as to not get separated from you as he followed behind.
The air was brisk as you stepped out onto Tina's front porch, clearing your foggy mind the second you took a deep breath. You shivered as Eddie stepped in front of you, leading you to his van.
"Your chariot awaits, madam." He said, offering to open the passenger side door for you.
"Wait, one second!" You quickly dashed over to where Eddie had knocked over Tina's decorative snowman and sat him upright. "What, you hit Frosty!" You exclaimed.
Eddie just laughed and shook his head before quickly scrambling around to the driver's side and hopping in. He shoved his keys into the ignition and turned the heat on full blast. "Don't worry, she heats up pretty fast."
As Eddie backed out of Tina's yard you noticed Steve's car was no longer where he had parked it when you first arrived. You hoped that Steve didn't leave alone, and also that he didn't leave without at least looking for you first. Given that you were hiding out in the pantry for most of the night, you gave him the benefit of the doubt that if he had known where you were, he would have given you the heads up.
The drive back to your place was mostly quiet, save for the music coming from Eddie's radio. He had the volume turned low and his window was cracked as he smoked a cigarette.
"May I?" You asked, motioning towards the cardboard box of cassette tapes that sat on the floorboard between the seats.
"Go for it," he replied as he slowed to a stop at a red light. "Find something to put on." He ejected his Iron Maiden cassette and placed it back in its plastic case, giving you free rein to choose whatever you wanted.
You rummaged through Eddie's music selection, marveling at his taste. He had everything from metal to punk, the classics, and- "Hall and Oates?" You asked, almost teasing him.
"What's wrong with Hall and Oates?" He asked, snatching the tape from your hands. "Kiss On My List? You Make My Dreams Come True? Can't help but love 'em, they're catchy."
"I completely agree," you replied, still shifting through the box. "I'm just surprised is all, would have thought that there wasn't enough guitar for you."
"It's not always about the guitar!"
You picked out Bruce Springsteen and gently pushed the tape into the cassette player. Eddie nodded in approval as he began humming along to the melody. The blue lights on the dashboard illuminated his soft features, making you realize how beautiful he really was. A small smile pulled at your lips as your eyes took in the sight of him, wondering how you never saw it before.
"You're staring," he taunted, stealing a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road.
"I'm sorry," you laughed but didn't take your eyes off of him. "I just- I never realized how beautiful you are."
"You think I'm beautiful?" He asked, placing a hand over his heart and batting his eyelashes at you.
"And silly," you giggled. "But, yes."
Eddie shook his head in response, unable to hold back his smile. "You know, I had the biggest crush on you in school."
"You did not!" You gasped.
"I totally did!" He replied. "It was bad. I would take the long way to class just so that I could walk past your locker. Man, those days after school when you'd come over to Gareth's to buy some weed and you'd hang out and listen to our band- fuck!" He was shaking his head; beautiful brunette curls bouncing on his shoulders.
"I had no idea," you replied. "You were always so quiet, I thought you didn't like me."
"You thought I- what? Didn't like you!?" He exclaimed. "Come on! How could any guy not like you? You're so fucking funny! Plus, you're like actually a good person. You're compassionate and kind and smart as Hell."
"Why tell me now?" You asked as your heart skipped beats.
"I don't know, it's New Years, why not?" He answered. "Why'd you ask me to kiss you back at Tina's?"
You shrugged, "because it's New Years, why not?" Eddie smiled at your response as he pulled up to the curb of your house. You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to face him, "I'd offer for you to come in, but I know my mom is waiting up for me."
"That's okay," he replied softly. "I really want to kiss you again."
"Yeah?" You bit your lip under his gaze.
"Mhm," he hummed.
Eddie leaned in to place his lips on yours one more time. It was slow and sweet; soft, like the glow of his headlights reflecting on the flurries of snow falling from the dark, midnight sky. You would have never thought that this night would have ended this way, but you were so thankful that it did. You weren't sure what 1986 had in store for you, but you were determined to make sure that Eddie was a part of it.
"I appreciate the ride home," you said barely above a whisper as you pulled away. "I should probably get inside, I bet-" you turned to look at your house and saw your mother's figure at the window. "Yep, she's watching."
Eddie chuckled and climbed out of the van. You smiled as he rounded the hood of the vehicle to open the passenger door for you. "Let's not keep her waiting." You slid out of his van and gave him a hug before heading up your driveway. "Maybe I'll see you are Gareth's or something?"
"Or," you turned back to him. "Maybe you'll see me at that new pizza place that just opened up? Maybe around 7:00 on Friday?"
"It's a date," he called to you as he brought his hands up to his face in the shape of a camera one last time, taking a mental photo of you before the night ended.
#fast forward you've been dating eddie for a year and you get him a polaroid for christmas so he can take real photos#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things fluff#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things 4#stranger things eddie#stranger things one shot#stranger things drabble#steve harrington#joseph quinn#joe quinn#joe keery#robin buckley#eddie x y/n#eddie x reader
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Defiant
Pairing: Phil Callahan x F!Reader
Warnings: Just some cute shit. Very boring. Obligatory warning for Callahan being a bastard cop (ACAB). Could possibly be triggering if you've ever been arrested.
Word Count: Idk like 1.5k?
Summary: Callahan breaks up a protest and brings you in.
A/N: I completely forgot how to write while I was absent. Enjoy this hot garbage.
--
Not everyone was happy about the mall.
In fact, the crowd outside the mayor's office was growing by the minute- filled with Hawkins residents holding signs and shouting vitriol.
Callahan knew a volatile situation when he saw it. The crowd was a ticking time bomb. Mayor Kline grinned like a hyena from behind his wooden desk, blithely dismissing the concern as the noise from outside grew ever louder.
"Mayor Kline-" Hopper's voice had an edge as he pinched the space between his eyebrows in frustration, "This is a powder keg-"
His words were cut short by a crash as a large rock shattered his window and fell to the carpet with a muted thud.
"Christ!" Hopper shielded his eyes as the din in the street became overwhelming, "Callahan, Powell, get out there!"
Phil sighed and plucked his hat from the desk, placing it on his head as he and Calvin headed to the street. The crowd roared so loudly it was nearly overwhelming.
"Starcourt is killing small business!"
"Fuck you Mayor Swine!"
"Alright folks-" Phil raised his voice to a shout and the crowd quieted, "Look I get it. You're mad. But whoever threw the rock-" he gestured toward the broken window, "Needs to come forward."
Phil waited as a few in the crowd shifted nervously.
"Why? So you pigs can arrest them?" a defiant voice snapped his attention as the group parted and you stepped forward.
Phil swallowed, hard, as his eyes landed on your face- he'd seen you around town before, working at the diner or pinning flyers for fundraisers on the cork board at the station.
He'd seen you, but he'd never really seen you.
Christ, you were pretty.
"Phil?" Calvin cocked his head as Callahan stood, dumbfounded, his mouth slightly agape, "You were saying?"
Phil snapped out of his trance and placed his hands on his hips, "That's the idea, yeah. That's technically assault on an officer-"
"Oh, give me a break!" You folded your arms and screwed up your face, "Assault on an officer? More like assault on some asshole's window."
A few in the crowd shouted their agreement and Phil sighed in exasperation, "I'm guessing it was you that threw it?" he took a step forward and you tilted your head to look up into his eyes, narrowing your own as you stood your ground.
"And if it was?"
Phil felt a jolt in his gut as he stared down into your eyes, glittering like gemstones in the setting Hawkins sun.
"Then I'm bringing you in."
--
You shifted uncomfortably in the back of the cruiser, pulling pointlessly at the handcuffs that bound your wrists.
Fucking Callahan. What a prick.
You glanced out the window as the crowd shouted in protest. Your eyes fell on Lucy Briggs and you grinned, which she returned with a mouthed "thank you".
She'd thrown the stone, of course.
But Callahan didn't need to know that.
The driver's side door of the cruiser opened and Phil climbed in with a loud sigh. He adjusted the rear view mirror until he could see your face; you rolled your eyes and he shook his head.
"Leaving your buddy behind to clean up the mess?" you jerked your head toward Powell, who was still shouting over the protestors as he attempted to diffuse the situation.
"Somebody's got to take you in," he replied simply and you laughed.
"Don't feel like you need backup for little ol' me?"
"Do I?" Callahan cocked an eyebrow and you shrugged.
"Maybe."
--
The sun was finally setting in earnest when Callahan pulled away from town hall and began the drive to the station. By the time the cruiser hit the parking lot, the station was empty, lit only by a desk lamp in the bull pen.
"Come on," Phil wrenched your door open and motioned for you to get out, "Don't make me carry you." His voice was almost playful, devoid of the cop attitude he had displayed earlier.
"Oh would you?" you asked with mock excitement, "Carry me over the threshold, Officer Callahan. Like a married couple!"
"You know, you're lucky it was me who brought you in and not Hopper," Phil stepped back as you slid across the seat and planted your feet on the pavement, "He'd put you in a cell for the night for talking to him like this."
You didn't dignify that with an answer.
Callahan led you into the station and pulled out a chair in the bullpen for you to sit on. You did so awkwardly, trying to maneuver your cuffed wrists to be comfortable.
"Here," Phil retrieved the keys from his belt and removed the handcuffs, "Sorry...you probably didn't need those."
"You think?" you rubbed your wrists indignantly as he took a seat across from you and pulled out a carbon paper pad, "So, if you're not throwing me in a cell, what's my punishment?"
"A fine," Phil began to scribble on the pad as he spoke, "And community service. You can repair that window and paint a few parking lots. Maybe even some walls at the mall."
You could tell he thought he was clever for that one. The corners of his mouth ticked up ever so slightly as he continued to write.
Maybe it was your exhaustion, or maybe the lighting was that bad-
Callahan was handsome.
Had he always had the mustache?
"See something you like?" he glanced up from his writing and cocked an eyebrow.
You felt your face grow warm and he chuckled as you snapped your eyes to the floor.
Phil finished writing and tore the top sheet off of the pad, "Fine's due by the 19th. You can report to the station on Tuesday for your community service."
"Wonderful," you snatched the paper from his hand and stood, "Can I at least get a ride home?"
"Sure. I'll even let you ride up front."
--
You lived on the North end of town, in a modest house on Dearborn that you rented from Greg Hannover. For years, it had been a quiet street- good neighbors and low rent.
Then, some utility company flipped a fucking van at the corner of Elm and Cherry and everything seemed to go to hell in a handbasket in Hawkins.
"This you?" Phil pulled the cruiser into the driveway and you nodded. He shifted into park and you hesitated for a moment before opening the door.
You were never very good at swallowing your pride. You'd held grudges against people who cut you in line at the store for longer than you liked.
"Look, Callahan-"
"Call me Phil," he smiled and his glasses caught the orange glow of the street lights overhead.
"Phil...I'm sorry about the rock. It was stupid-"
"I know you didn't throw it," he cut you off and you blinked in surprise, "Come on. Only one person in that crowd can throw a laser like that. I know it was Lucy. She hit Powell with an egg last Halloween."
"What? No- it was me!" You sputtered and he laughed, a genuine, kind laugh that you hadn't heard before, "Stop laughing! I threw it!"
"Keep it up and I'll double the fine for lying to an officer!" Phil pointed in mock anger before bursting into a fit of laughter.
"You are such a prick-" you swatted at him and he bit back another laugh, "Next time, I will throw a rock!"
Silence fell in the cruiser for a moment as Phil caught his breath and tried to stifle his laughter. You moved to open the door, but he reached a hand across the center console and grabbed your wrist.
"Wait-"
You glanced down at his hand and cocked an eyebrow before letting go of the handle.
"Look, when all this dies down- when you finish your community service-" Phil tamped down the grin that threatened to form at those words, "Would you maybe let me take you out to dinner?"
You blinked and stared at him in the dim light, waiting for him to laugh or tell you he was kidding.
He didn't.
"I..." you paused and he looked anxious for a moment before you spoke again, "Sure-"
"But you're buying."
--
Phil watched as you trekked up the steps to your front door and offered a small wave before ducking inside.
He waited for a moment until he was sure that you were inside safely before letting out the breath he'd been holding.
And then, for the first time in years, Phil Callahan punched the air and let out a boyish cheer of happiness.
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Directors cut of your favorite scene in “the video store frame-up…”!!!
Ooooh! My favorite scene in "the video store frame-up of '86" is when the reader goes to the Family Video to confront Keith about the Blockbuster vandalism, and then the reader, Steve, and Robin start trying to figure out who did it. I love a good turn, like this one with Steve:
Steve is surprised to see you march into Family Video only a couple minutes into his shift, but he beams at the sight of you. “Hey, you,” he says softly, hearts in his eyes. “Last night was really—”
“Where’s Keith?”
Steve’s face twists with disgust. “You came here to see Keith? And not me? Jesus, was the sex that bad?”
Keith is such a fun character to write because we barely see him in the show, so you can make him act however you want. This version of Keith is bossy and condescending, but as soon as the reader fights back, he immediately crumbles.
“I don’t know anything about any vandalism,” Keith says. “Unlike you Blockbuster people, us Family Video employees have a little decorum. I don’t need to resort to violence to take your store down when my store has better products and better service.”
You dive forward and grab Keith by the vest. He squeaks in fright.
“Tell. The. Truth! Did you do it?!”
“I didn’t!” Keith says. “I swear!”
You scan his face for any indication that he’s lying. When you find nothing except fear, you let him go. He slinks past you into the front of the store, muttering about “crazy people” the whole way.
Lastly, I also couldn't resist a Mayor Kline cameo. Kline's a swine! 🐷
“Well, technically, there is one other video store in town,” Steve says. Off your confused look, he clears his throat and crosses his arms. “…Are you seriously going to make me say it?”
“Are you talking about the place that rents pornos?” you say.
The Triple X Emporium was a small, windowless shack on the edge of town. You’d never gone inside, but while driving past had once caught a glimpse of Hawkins’ old mayor, Mayor Kline, leaving the store with a rather full bag of tapes.
-
Send an ask for specific commentary on a fic or a ⭐️ for dealer's choice! :)
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Stakeout ;
SUMMARY: steve harrington and dustin henderson go on a stakeout, searching for soviet spies.
PAIRING: steve harrington x fem!reader.
WARNING(S): mild cursing since dustin swears like a sailor sometimes.
NOTES: i hope you have a good day. ^—^
The Starcourt Mall was a shopping centre located in Hawkins, Indiana and a subsidiary of Starcourt Industries. The mall's opening in 1985 was inaugurated by Mayor Larry Kline. Both Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley worked at the Scoops Ahoy, an ice cream store, in the mall's food court. The place quickly became a popular hangout for teenagers and adolescents.
Although Starcourt appears to be a normal mall at first glance, it was actually built as a front for a secret Russian base, which houses the first Key built on American soil. This base was hidden far underground. Starcourt Industries is also controlled by the Soviet Union.
At the Starcourt Mall, Robin is translating the Russian message, rejecting Erica Sinclair’s request for more "samples". Her coworker Steve Harrington is not on duty, instead sneaking around the mall with Dustin Henderson using a pair of binoculars.
“You see anything?” Dustin questioned his partner in crime who is currently looking at shoppers through the pair of binoculars as the pair hid behind a planet display. “Uh, I guess I don't totally know what I'm looking for.” Steve sighed, longing for their search to end so he could return to the job that pays him minimum-wage.
“Evil Russians.”
“Yeah, exactly. I don't know what an evil Russian looks like.” Steve pointed out, mumbling.
“Tall, blond, not smiling,” Dustin presumed what the Soviets looked like, frowning as he looked around the perimeter of the mall as well. Steve, hummed since he was humoured by the teenager’s persistent demeanour. “Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing.”
“Right, okay, duffel bags,” Steve repeated the boy’s sentence in a groggy tone. After a few moments, something catches his attention. “Oh, you've gotta be kidding me.”
The tone in Steve Harrington’s voice intrigued Dustin Henderson beyond all recognition because he believed they found a lead in their investigation. “What?” The teenager asked in a hurried manner.
“Y/n L/n is talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky.” Steve groans, squinting his eyes to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
Dustin peels behind the plant they hid behind, searching for Y/n before catching a glance at her. “She works at JCPenney. She’s talking to customers since it’s her job, you Airhead. You aren’t focused, just give me the binoculars.” Dustin briefly explained the situation before ultimately wanting to reprimand his superior of his binocular privileges.
“Aw, whatever happened to standards?” Steve ignored the young boy beside him. He continued to eavesdrop on the people who used to attend Hawkins High School. “I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench.” He added.
“Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?” Dustin insulted the high school graduate before taking it upon himself to snatching the binoculars. “Stop, hey. Stop.” Steve swatted the teenager’s hand away as he continued to look at Y/n whilst Dustin was able to take the binoculars and use them to his advance to scout out the Soviets.
“I don't get why you're looking at girls. You literally have the perfect one in front of you — just go talk to her.” Dustin gestured towards the h/c haired girl who separated from Mark Lewinsky and started talking to other customers scattered around the mall.
“You know what? I don’t want to hear any more about N/n. Just…” He then transitioned to a hushed voice, regretting what he was going to say next. “Look for evil Russians?”
“Y/n,” Dustin said quickly to get on Steve’s nerves which seemed to work wonders.
“Seriously, if you say her name again...” Steve trailed off, looking over at Dustin before turning his attention back to the h/c haired girl.
“Y/n,” Dustin repeated himself as Steve Harrington fumed beside the teenager. “No, don't. No.” He waved his arms as a gesture to Dustin that he needed to stop whatever he was trying to achieve.
“N/n, N/n, N/n.”
“No, man, she's not my type,” Steve lied through his teeth and he came to the conclusion that he will go on with his fabrication. “She's not even... in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?”
“What's your type again? Not awesome?” Dustin poked fun at the adult’s taste in women. “Thank you,” Steve replies in a sarcastic tone as the young teenager hums.
“And, for your information, she's still in school. And she's... weird?” Steve’s tone was inquisitive, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to come up with more excuses. Yeah… she's a weirdo. And she's hyper — always happy when she came to school. I don't like that she's hyper. And I think she did drama. And you know that’s a bad look.”
“Now that you're out of high school, which means you're technically an adult, don't you think it's time you move on from primitive constructs such as popularity?” Dustin practically insulted Steve, lowering the binoculars from his eyes.
“Oh, primitive constructs?” He repeated his sentence. “That some stupid shit you learned at Camp...” he gestured towards Dustin’s hat. “Know... Nothing?”
“Camp Know Where, actually,” Dustin corrected Steve, giving him a strained smile because he took pride in going to the camp for the summer. “And no, it's shit I learned from life. Instead of dating somebody you think is gonna make you look cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around — although I don’t know N/n all that well. Just look at me and Suzie for an example.”
“Oh, Suzie. Yeah, you mean, ‘hotter than Phoebe Cates,’” He didn’t believe that Dustin actually managed to get a girlfriend over the course of the season. “And, uh, let's think about how exactly did you score that beautiful girlfriend?”
Before Dustin could respond to Steve’s questions, a voice interrupted their discussion, “Harrington!” It was a feminine voice that the graduate recognized almost immediately.
The boys looked in the general direction of the spokesperson to see none other than Y/n L/n approaching them. Steve was like a deer in headlights, stunned that he was spotted.
As she got closer, Steve nudged Dustin in the ribs and signalled towards the binoculars he had in hand and silently demanded him to hid them. Not wanting Y/n to get the wrong idea.
Knowing that Y/n was bound to embrace him, Steve wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm before pulling away for a few seconds.
“Have have you been?” She laughed, resting her hands on her hip. “Good.” Steve did not want to admit that he concluded not to go to college and was now working at a store that paid minimum wage.
“What are you doing here?” Y/n looks between the two, knowing that it would be rude not to include Dustin into their chat.
“Looking for evil Russians.” Dustin Henderson admitted, earning him a sigh from Steve who pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Okay?” Y/n giggles at the teenager’s peculiar response. “Well, my colleague, Vanessa, told me that you work at Scoops Ahoy. I didn’t know you worked there.” She looked at Steve’s brightly coloured sailor uniform that he donned.
“You didn’t?” Steve asks, checking the liability of her declaration.
“Yeah. I might have to come down there sometime when I’m on break to see what it’s like,” Y/n nods her head, looking around at the crowd just as a distance voice calls for her. She awkwardly laughs, facing the boys sheepishly, “That must be my manager. I should get going. See you around, Harrington.” She bids farewell as she left their side.
“Y-Yeah...” Steve Harrington stammered, watching as she disappeared among the shoppers. “Told you so.” Dustin Henderson laughed, pulling out the binoculars that he hid behind his back.
#stranger things#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#starcourt mall#the battle of starcourt#dustin henderson#robin buckley
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carnival
@snekintheeye asked: Kia ora! Hi! Could I request an Alexei x reader, where reader is a cop (thought to be a toxic manly man) that finds an injured Alexei at the Carnival and just fluff accepting vibes all around?? S3 killed me, my dude :'))
this took much longer than it should have oof, here you go:>
——
y/n could never seemed to catch a break. being a cop was a way to help people, and it hadn't been panning out like that so far, especially this summer. physical strength had always been one of y/n's advantages, he'd thought people would feel safe when they saw him. despite what his appearance gave off, y/n wasn't a tough guy. he cried at sappy movies, halloween was his least favourite time of the year, and he was still afraid of the dark. no one saw that when they looked at him, and y/n hated it. he hated the looks he would get when he was on patrol, he hated that no matter what he tried he always seemed to intimidate people. no matter what he tried, he could never shake the reputation of the intimidating cop that everyone seemed to be wary of.
he hadn't done anything to warrant this reputation either. he'd never never hurt a fly, anyone who knew him personally could vouch for that, people in hawkins just weren't used to seeing some tough looking big city cop in their small town. because of this unspoken reputation, he was mostly stuck with security, his presence was enough to ward off any would be delinquents easily, and today was no different. mayor kline's fourth of july fun fair. his task was simple enough, patrol around the ground and make sure no one was getting up to anything illegal, nothing out of the ordinary. he'd expected tonight to be like any normal night, and it seemed as if it would be, till he'd decided to take a quick look behind some of the stalls to make sure no one had decided to try and hide away from any prying eyes.
it was coming closer to the end of the night with every stall he checked, and y/n was getting ready to head back to his set round when he'd noticed someone propped against a food stall. "you can't be behind.." his voice trailed off as he got a better look at the person, a man, and he was clearly heavily injured, if the copious amount of blood staining his shirt was anything to go by. "shit- what happened to you?" y/n knelt down beside the man, pressing his hand against the source of the blood. how someone had gotten an injury like this at a carnival was beyond him, but that besides the point right now. "what on earth happened to you?" he asked, letting out a quiet sigh when all he got was intelligible mumbling from stranger. reaching for his radio, y/n went to call for backup a confused frown forming on his face when the injured man, who somehow hadn't passed out from the blood loss yet, grabbed his hand to stop him.
"i'm just calling for backup-" y/n didn't get to finish his sentence before he was being interrupted. "listening-" from his accent y/n could immediately tell this guy wasn't from around here, or anywhere remotely close to here for that matter, he probably didn't speak much english either. "who's listening?" y/n moved his hand away from the radio to place it on top of the already bloodstained one trying to stop the wound from bleeding, applying as much pressure as he could muster. the man pointed towards the wound, looking up at y/n, and he understood immediately. "the people who did this to you?" he asked, looking away for a moment when he got a nod in response. this was not how he'd expected tonight to go.
"okay.. i'm gonna get you help, alright? I'm not leaving you alone, and we can't use the radio, so.." they were fast running out of options, and y/b could see the stranger growing weaker with every passing minute. for a moment he hesitated, he'd never thought he'd have to deal with anything like this, but he knew he had to act quickly if there was any chance of this guy surviving. quickly he moved to pull off his uniform shirt, shivering a little at the abnormally cold summer night wind that hit him as he was left in just his singlet and pants. "you need to keep pressure on this, okay? i'll get you help, i promise" his words probably did nothing to calm the bleeding man since y/n was sure he couldn't understand him, but he was sure the other got the jist of it when he pressed the shirt against his wound and moved to press his hands against it before pulling away.
peaking his head out from behind the stall, y/n couldn't see any way that wouldn't draw attention to them, and he couldn't call for help either. if y/n couldn't find a way out soon, this man was going to die. y/n was starting to loose hope, until he spotted a jacket strewn across the back of a carnival stall. they might not have been able to get out without being seen, but they could get out without being noticed. reaching out to grab the item of clothing, y/n made a mental note to try and find the owner to replace the jacket, but there were more pressing matters to attend to.
slipping the jacket over the injured mans shoulders and pulling up the hood, he wrapped one arm around him, looking down at him. "think you can stand?" he asked, keeping his arm firmly wrapped around him so he could lean against him as he stood. "keep your head down and lean against me. the only way we're getting out of here is if no one spots you" the stranger let out more unintelligible murmurs and y/n took that as a cue to start walking, making sure to go slow enough to accomodate for the others injuries. despite being in such a huge crowd, the two were almost invisible, not a single person paid attention to them as they walked around, to ingested in the activities of the night. it was perfect for them, and after a painstaking five minuets of walking, y/n finally reached into his pocket to pull out the keys to his car.
with much effort, y/n was able to get the other into the car, and he'd never been so grateful for the sirens as he turned them on to excuse his extreme speed. who knew how much time they had left. "i'm guessing you have no idea what i'm saying, but could you at least tell me your name?" y/n asked, looking in the mirror to check back on the man slowly bleeding out in his back seat. when he spoke up, y/n almost couldn't hear him from how quiet his voice had gotten, but he was able to pick up "alexei" and y/n gave a small nod. they were less than two minuets from the hospital now, thanks to y/n's speeding. "alright then alexei, i'm y/n. mind telling me how you ended up in that situation?" there was silence, and y/n felt his entire body heat up with fear for a moment as he thought that they hadn't made it in time, but when he looked at the mirror again he realised that alexei merely hadn't understood him, and he let out a breath of relief. with that, they pulled up to the hospital, and y/n couldn't recall a time in his life where he'd run any faster, even during his academy days, but he'd burst through the doors of that hospital with such force it made his legs ache.
"we need help- he's been shot, he's lost a lot of blood" was all he could say, the adrenaline had really kicked in now, and it wasn't till he was left pacing around the waiting room that he realised he was covered in blood. there'd been an uncomfortable silence since the moment y/n had begun pacing, and he knew that all these people seeing him like this probably didn't do anything to help his reputation, but he really couldn't have cared less at that moment. it felt like hours had passed when someone had finally called out his name. he'd about paced a hole in the floor by that point. despite having known this man for less than twenty four hours, every passing minute without any word from him made him grow even more worried.
"how is he?" y/n asked, nails pressed firmly into his palms as he waited for any news, he was prepared for the worst, it had really seemed they'd gotten here with not a second to spare. "he's awake, very disoriented and, he can't tell us much but, he'll live" the doctor gave a soft smile as she spoke and y/n would have hugged her if he weren't covered in dried blood. "he's been asking for you though" those words made y/n look back at the doctor in front of him, eyebrows raised in confusion. "he has?"
she nodded, motioning for y/n to follow her as she lead him towards a room. "yes, you're all he's really talked about. i think he wants to thank you" y/n could feel a smile creep onto his face at that, and that smile stayed as he made his way into the room, taking a seat next to the bed. "told you i'd get you out" and it was clear that alexei still had no idea what he was saying, but he smiled none the less, and y/n thanked any higher power that was listening that he decided to look behind those stalls. "you're not from here, are you" y/n asked, leaning against the arm rest of the chair. there was silence again, and y/n took that as confirmation.
this was not how y/n had expected the night to go, and he almost couldn't believe that for the first time he'd actually /saved/ someone. y/n was startled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his arm, and he looked up to see alexei giving a small, tired smile. "thank you" he spoke, his thick accent making it much harder to understand. y/n gave a smile though, looking back at alexei. "no need to thank me, i couldn't just leave you there. just doing my job" of course y/n would have done the same thing regardless if it was his job or not, he hoped any person would. despite the language barrier, y/n could tell that alexei was truly thankful that y/n had stepped in when he had. both of them knew what very well could have happened if he hadn't decided to check behind those stalls, not that they wanted to think about it.
for the first time in his career, y/n felt like he'd actually helped someone, and for the first time y/n felt like his reputation didn't matter. he could only hope this was the start of something new.
#alexei x male reader#alexei smirnoff x reader#alexei smirnoff imagine#alexei smirnoff#alexei stranger things#alexei x reader#alexei st3#alexei imagine
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God can Larry Kline just-
Ughhhhhhh
I dunno how to describe how rough I want him to be with me.
Pouring gasoline on the fire
Summary: You teased Larry a bit too much and now have to deal with the consequences.
One shot, part of the Out of the frying pan, into the fire series. Just disconnected from the main story.
A/N: I don't even know, this ask just took me.
Pairing: Larry Kline x fem!Reader
CW: Oral (M receiving), degradation, dirty talk, Larry slaps you once <3
"You should not had teased me in a bad day, you little whore." Larry gritted through his teeth. His hand fisting your hair, he dragged you through the motel room; you whined, feeling yourself flooding your panties. "Now I'm gonna give you exact what you want."
You had your share of guilt, you had teased him, you just expected he would be in a better mood, he would receive it playfully. You didn't expect him to be so angry. But it wasn't a bad outcome... You didn't get to see this side of Larry enough.
He pulled you to your knees, besides the bed, and took his belt quickly, throwing it over the bed, then quickly opening his pants.
Larry held the base of his cock in front of your face, smiling down at you; he rubbed himself over your face. You looked at him wide eyed, your mouth half open, desperate for him to allow your touch.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Larry growled. "Showing your tits during that meeting, dropping everything on the floor and bending over... You weren't even wearing panties! Let's hope the representative didn't see how much of a needy slut you are."
You whined, licking your lips, and he smacked his cock, heavy and hard, against your cheek.
"You should start with my balls." He snarled, grabbing your hair and rubbing his face against him. You opened your mouth, eagerly licking between his balls. Larry sighs, pleased, pushing your face against him, his other hand moving on his shaft. "Don't worry, baby, I'd never share a treasure like you with that stuck-up old fart."
Larry pushed his cock into your mouth, holding your head. He started fucking your face, hard, just the way you like it. You looked up, your eyes filled with tears, and his expression changed. He had an intense expression, but a smile on his lips. He thrusted hard down your throat, but his fingertips slid ever so gently over your jaw, down your neck. He was doing it for your pleasure.
You moaned around him, gagging, and he pulled from you, leaving you breathless, on your knees. Larry tugged on your hair, making you stand up; he stopped and watched your breathing get more regular.
The slap was louder than it was painful, but the force of it made you turn and fall on the bed.
"Oh my god, baby, I'm sorry, I got carried on." He said softly, petting your hair, your face.
You turned to him, wide eyed, tears staining your cheeks, sweat, saliva and pre come drying on your chin.
"Green, Larry." Your voice sounded dreamy, almost unreal, as you invoked the code to inform him all was well, you wanted him to continue.
"Jesus Christ, woman." Larry grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed, with a wide smile. "Needy slut. My favorite."
#mayor kline x reader#mayor kline smut#I think i am the first in this wild land#but damn#i love Cary Elwes and I can't help myself#come join me in the sewer#mayor of slutville#maycore#mayb writes
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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...
#stranger things#1980s#hawkins#martin brenner#fanfic#writers on tumblr#smut#hippiegoth97#stranger things smut#hawkins hussy#martin brenner x reader#martin brenner smut
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(Almost) Every Idea Ever
Although I rarely ever finish writing a fic, that never stops me from getting new ideas for them. Terrible, horrible, dumpster fire ideas. Okay, some of them are wholesome on occasion, but mostly it’s just filth. I've excluded a couple of things because either they were just too awful to mention or I’m currently working on them and I want it to be a surprise.
The first story I started to write this year was original fiction but with the main male character heavily inspired by Jim Hopper. It was about a recently married young woman having an affair with her father-in-law. This really set a precedent for the rest of my ideas and should indicate to you the level of depravity on this list.
Hopper x Reader:
Hurts So Good series - In 1982, Reader is Mayor Kline’s daughter and has a crush on Chief Hopper. She decides to pursue him and things don’t go quite as planned but they still end up having steamy, rough sex. A secret affair begins between the two of them but it eventually leads to heartbreak. Heavy emphasis on Dom/sub and pain kink.
- Initial pursuit, fingering in the car, sex (60%)
- Phone sex the following day (70%)
- Rough sex, bordering on consensual nonconsent (partially written)
- Introduction to Daddy kink (notes)
- Body worship (notes)
- Bruise kink (notes)
- Facesitting (50%)
- hurt/comfort throatfucking, an argument, angst/fluff (75%)
- Orgasm denial/control (70%)
- Possible gunplay? (Unwritten)
- Disciplinary spanking (notes)
Dress You Up series - In 1985, Hopper meets plus-size!Reader at JCPenney when he comes in to pick out a shirt for his date. After Joyce stands him up, he decides to come back and ask Reader out instead. Probably the cutest idea I’ve ever had for smut. Inspired by flamehairedwritings and flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash.
- 1st meeting, 2nd meeting, date, sex (50%)
- 2nd date, a continuation of My First Drabble (partially written)
- Meeting El and she’s standoffish (notes)
Domestic Smut - Reader and husband!Hopper are at the cabin alone together one weekend. After breakfast, she tries to wash the dishes but the sink is broken, the water squirting everywhere. A water fight turns into a tickle fight which turns into kitchen table sex. (50%)
Hopper blindfolding Reader during sex at the cabin (Notes)
Hopper blindfolding Reader during a blowjob in his office at the police station (Minimal notes)
Hopper rubbing a popsicle on Reader’s body then licking it off (Minimal notes)
Hopper coming over to Reader’s house, unannounced, late at night, in the rain, for a quick rough fuck. Inspired by one of the pictures from the Playboy shoot. (Partially written)
Licking Hopper’s hand and arm veins to get his attention while he reads the Sunday newspaper. (Unwritten)
Sucking Hopper’s cock while he smokes a cigar on the porch and either ignores you or looks at you with disdain. Inspired by a compilation video of David smoking a cigar on Instagram Live. (Unwritten)
Consensual nonconsent fantasy where Hopper touches Reader and tells her to say no to him while he’s making her cum. Rough, forceful sex immediately follows. (Partially written)
Bootlicker - anti-cop Reader has a secret fetish for cops and Hopper is more than happy to oblige them and keep quiet about it. (Notes)
Working out my own personal issues via smut, bigender-questioning AFAB Reader puts on Hopper’s uniform shirt and hat. Much to their delight, he says they look like a boy. He also says “If you’re going to dress like a boy, I’m going to fuck you like one.��� Basically just incredible anal sex while Hopper calls Reader a good boy. Extremely niche subject but the fantasy of this is so affirming to me, I can’t not think about it. (Notes)
Hopper x Reader requests
A sequel to Little Magnum where the dog is a few years older. There is maybe also a cat? (Unwritten)
Fire & Ice - Reader is playing in the snow when it’s getting dark outside. Hopper tells them to come in but they don’t listen. Reader falls and hurts their ankle then Hopper gets angry at their disobedience. Not because he’s a jerk, but because he can’t imagine his life without Reader and doesn’t want to lose them. Angsty hurt/comfort. (~70%)
Replacement idea since Fire & Ice was much too angsty - Reader gets stung by a bee and Hopper freaks out. Reader is fine but he babies them nonetheless, because again, his greatest fear is losing them. Very cute and silly. (unwritten)
Freezeframe - Reader bought Hopper a Polaroid camera for his birthday and he hasn’t used it months later. Taking matters into her own hands, she uses the camera for some naughty selfies. Once Hopper finds the pictures, he decides to assume the role of photographer and gets some very intimate shots of Reader. (80-85%)
Morning Wood - Reader lets themself into the cabin early one Summer morning and sees Hopper in bed, fully nude, just a sheet covering the part they want to see most. Hop wakes up, invites Reader into bed with him, and a blowjob ensues. Very detailed description of his body. (Notes)
Hopper gets injured and needs Reader to patch him up. She gets pissed though for him being in yet another dangerous situation where he yet again gets hurt. Reader reprimanding him leads to confessions of feelings which leads to sex. (Unwritten)
Reader has been feeling ignored by Hopper lately and decides to make him jealous to get his attention. She flirts with another man at a bar while Hopper watches and seethes with rage. He punishes her by dragging her into the parking lot then spanking over the tailgate of his Chevy Blazer. Rough sex and more spanking goes down back at the cabin. Based on my jealous!Hopper headcanon post. (Partially written)
Principal Hopper - One of the worst ideas I’ve ever had, which is saying A LOT. High school principal Hopper catches one of his 18-year-old female students spying on him between classes and confronts her about it. Sexual tension bubbles up until neither of them can control themselves. Based on a fantasy told to me by a friend who I will not name. (Notes)
Hopper x Reader AUs
Messing Around With Jim series - A continuation of The Big Game, Afterschool Special, and Third Time’s A Charm. Modern!Hopper and Reader having all kinds of sex.
- Fingering, gentle sex, tender orgasm control (50%)
- Period sex, vibrator (Notes)
- First blowjob, a continuation of A Sampling (partially written)
- Hop eating Reader’s pussy for his birthday (minimal notes)
- Fingering in the car, truck bed sex (notes)
- Another blowjob, rough sex over the hood of a car (partially written)
- Pussy eating at the park (notes)
- Hop not understanding FaceTime, fluff, smut (unwritten)
- Roleplaying how they met, sex at Reader’s parents house (notes)
- July 4th fingering, rough sex, surprises (notes)
- Remote control vibrator (partially written)
- More pussy eating, this time in Hop’s cutting edge shirt (partially written)
- Yet another blowjob, this time in a movie theater (unwritten)
- Jealousy resulting in overstimulation/”forced” orgasms (notes)
- 4 part miniseries about butt plugs/anal sex (notes)
- Confronting her parents, angst (55-60%)
- Learning about Sara, ANGST! (notes)
Vacation series - modem!Hopper and Reader go on vacation together. That’s it, that’s the plot. Idea from David’s Croatian vacation pics and conversations with Tayler. All just notes at this point.
- Christening the hotel bed
- Bratty Reader getting semi-publicly punished
- Hopper taking care of drunk!Reader, humor, fluff
- Double date
carpenter!Hopper - Reader is recently divorced and hires Hop to make repairs on her house before she sells it. Graphic detail of him doing manly things like sawing and hammering. Porn with plot. Inspired by another friend, she knows who she is. (Notes in the form of a 500-word summary)
Detective Hopper - various bits and pieces of ideas inspired by David being digitally handcuffed to Darren Criss and Michael Stuhlbarg in Vanity Fair, plus a few pictures in 2016. (Unwritten)
Captain Hopper - a collaboration with @pkg4mumtown. She said she was thinking about fire captain!Hopper rescuing her from a burning building and I told her my pre-existing firefighter idea of being saved and then wanting to thank him in a variety of ways. Things snowballed from there and I decided we need to write it. Mostly just notes so far.
- Initial meeting, first date, sex
- Second date, making dinner together, sex
Hopper x Joyce:
There is a list of my Jopper ideas (Various degrees of notes)
Teenage Joyce and Hopper meeting in high school and their relationship that follows. Maybe a oneshot? Maybe a series? (Notes)
Hopper x Billy: (Over 18-years-old and no longer in high school!)
1940/50’s AU - Hopper meets expat Billy at a cigar club while on vacation in Havana. A familiar face, so to speak, in a foreign land. Hop pays Billy to take him back to his apartment and “keep him company”. Maybe two chapters? Inspired by a photo of Dacre Montgomery in GQ Germany. (Partially written.)
Hopper catches Billy “renting his time” at a truck stop outside of town and threatens to arrest him, but Billy bribes him with sex. (Unwritten.) I’m sorry but there’s just something about the idea of rent boy Billy that I absolutely love.
Hopper + Billy + Reader - completely implausible threeway (Unwritten)
David Harbour RPF:
AU where instead of being an actor, he’s a drama teacher at a high school in New York City and the kids from Stranger Things are his students. Pure fluff. (Please write this for me!)
Giving him a blow job before an important event. TWO different versions. Inspired by numerous photos of David wearing a robe. (Minimal notes)
Riding his thigh and everything that entails. Inspired by a picture of David from GQ Mexico. (Minimal notes)
touch-starved!David hires a sexworker during the pandemic because he’s lonely quarantining by himself. No sex. He literally just wants a hug and someone to be affectionate with him. Unconventional fluff. (Unwritten)
Other DKH-related shenanigans:
Let’s Ride sequel - Reader goes on a second date with Deacon from SoulCycle, they go out for sashimi and end up at his place. He has a cat that he inherited from a neighbor. Reader teaches him how to put her in a chokehold. (Unwritten)
Alexei Shostakov smut - some type of Bond Girl situation where Reader has to seduce him. Just an excuse for me to lovingly describe his large tattooed body in vivid detail. (Unwritten)
The Stranger - Reader has an ongoing affair with a mysterious man whose name is never mentioned. They meet at high society functions and hook up in fancy hotels. One night, he finds out that she’s married and punishes her for her dishonesty. Inspired by a photo of David looking annoyed in a tuxedo. (Notes)
Daddy Dom/little girl roleplay fantasy. Sweet, smutty, and slightly taboo. (Notes)
Daddy’s Little...Helper - Me, as submissive!Reader, watching Daddy jack off right in front of my face after he comes home from work. Based on a conversation with an Instagram friend and a picture of David in the play “Cal In Camo” where he’s holding a beer bottle between his legs. (65%)
Stranger Things x Twin Peaks crossover - Chief Jim Hopper comes to Twin Peaks to help Special Agent Dale Cooper solve some type of paranormal mystery. Perhaps a parallel between The Black Lodge and The Upside Down? I think this would work really really well, but I can’t write it myself. (Please write this for me!)
In conclusion: Yes, I know I need to have my head examined. Yes, I know I spend too much time thinking about Jim Hopper. Let me know if you LIKE these ideas. Please do not let me know if you hate these ideas.
Tagging: @manawhaat @strangest-hour @007swhore @kingphillipblake @david-harbour-arg @misshawkins1993 @oxforddrama
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The Fleed
[THIS MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS OF STRANGER THINGS 3]
Request: Nope, But you always can! :)
GUESS WHAT IM IGNORING THE FACT BILLY AND HOPPER DIED! CAUSE THAT’S NOT HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO!!
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader + Jim Hopper x Reader.
Word count: 1205 :)
Warning(s): Mentions of sex and swearing!
Summary: Billy may have survived the mind flayer but now he needs to fight another battle. The battle in his own mind.
[Not my Gif]
Locks of sand-coloured curly hair were scattered across Billy’s bedroom floor. He was staring at himself in the mirror. Billy wasn’t checking himself out like he usually would. He was getting used to the new him. The one he had become.
You still look fuckable,” you wrapped your arms around Billy’s neck. Oh Goddamn it. She was doing it again. She was trying to make him forget it all. But he couldn't. “I’m talking right now fuckable,” you kissed his cheek gently knowing how twitchy he has been lately. “Billy?” you pleaded. ‘Oh really,” he smiled. Just play along. “Against the wall or on the desk?” Good act.
She did it. At least for thirteen seconds, he forgot. When she was screaming his name and leaving scratches on his back. “That was something different,” You were rolled up in the covers. They smelled like him. Billy staring at the ceiling. Not sharing a word with you. It even took that away from him. His most favourite thing in the world. Sex with you.
Do you want to help me burn down the Camaro,” He hadn’t bothered fixing it up. He once loved driving around town in his cavy with the music blasting through the speakers. Now it was a dented tin can that had drove him to his worst nightmare.
You were at toxic kline field. That’s what everyone called it after it was sold to the mayor years ago. He was planning on building a new residential area on it. The citizens of Hawkings stopped him right in time. There were rumours that something was wrong with the place. Soil research showed that the soil was indeed toxic. “What’s a little more toxin here right,” Billy Joked as he poured the last bit of gasoline over his car. The truth was he felt toxic. Like he was a sweet poison you were happily sipping up.
Let’s burn it, baby,” you dropped his lighter doubtful, slightly concerned if you were doing good or bad here. As the flames warmed your face, you watched how Billy's old belongings became nothing more than ash.
That night in bed Billy realised what really happened there. You both not only started a fire but an entirely new life. He wanted to flee this shithole and give you the change to get your normal life back. You both had discussed running away together just after the events but you begged him for more a little time. Time to say goodbye to your family. Billy didn’t have time. He was slowly getting eaten up by his own thoughts. These toxic thoughts.
Hop, I hope we find him today,” you glared out of the car window. Hopper had parked his car at Hawkin’s cheapest Motel. You missed Billy this past nine days every heartbeat but you prayed he wasn’t staying here. "I’m tipped by the owner and he’s here Y/N," he sighed seeing the worried look on your face.
He’s in a battle with his own mind, kid. You need to understand this happens sometimes. Victims of trauma have hope, try to get rid of the bad until they have a relapse. They fall back in the spiral of thoughts that keep spinning till they go completely nuts,” Hopper lowered the radio volume. “He was looking alright Hop,” tears whelmed up in your eyes. “You’ve tried your best kid, you did.”
The smell of trash really welcomes you here,” Hopper coughed. A bold man, mid-fifties waved a keycard at you. “Good looking place huh?” you grabbed the card and shoved the man aside. “Sorry, She’s having mood swings,” Hopper briefly smiled before running after you.
That was nice,” Hopper stopped your tracks. “Y/N, calm down,” Hopper raised his voice. “I hope he was joking,” you groaned. “He wasn’t and neither am I,” he snapped the card from your hand. "We're not doing it this way.”
Billy?” you whispered. “Love,” you encountered the smell of alcohol. Billy was stretched out in bed, snoring once and then. The sheets were full of stains and had a yellow appearance. You felt an indescribable pain in your heart. “Thanks, Hop,” you hugged him and walked in.
You waited and waited. He was sleeping so peacefully and at that moment you understood. You were the last thing left of his old life. Every hour, every minute, every second spent with you was torture. Billy fled you to be finally free only for you to be selfish and chase after him.
No!” Billy screamed gasping for air. “I don’t understand,” he jumped up sweat dripping down his face and body. He wanted to grab the bottle of whiskey on his bedside table, but it was gone. You had cleaned up the room earlier. He groaned and slammed the wall before he noticed you. Rubbing his eyes still thinking he was having a nightmare he stumbled over to you. “You look so real,” he slurred. “Get out!” He grabbed the night light and swept it at you. He missed. He missed a few times.
Billy, stop! Please!” you begged, huddled up. “Oh shit, you are real,” he panicked as he snapped into reality. He fell down beside you holding back his tears. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” you cried out. He didn’t even try to stop you, He encouraged you. You had every right to hate him. If only he could explain to you how much he hated himself. “Yes! Hate me! It’s all I needed to hear.”
Both at the edge of bursting out in tears, you broke first. “Please, don’t cry Y/N,” Billy wrapped his arms around you. “Promise me one thing,” he rocked you slowly between his legs. “Promise me you’ll be happy.” A tear rolled down his cheek. And you were, finally at peace with what was going to be your future. Billy would leave in the morning and you would try to forget him. You promised him that as you fell asleep in his arms.
The tavern was filled with young couples and their little kids chasing each other around the tables. “I love you,” Billy mumbled swallowing his last bite of pancake down. “love you too,” you smiled. The two of you sat next to the children's corner. A little boy drawing his family. A woman picked up her daughter. “Your son is so lucky,” she locked eyes with you and Billy. “Oh, he’s not our kid,” Billy laughed it off but your smile sunk. The reality hitting you hard. You’d never have a family with Billy, in fact, after today you would never see him again. Never.
I need to use the restroom,” Billy stood up. He leaned over the table and rested his forehead against yours and kissed you longer than normal. And as you saw him walk away, you knew he wasn’t coming back. Big tears filled your eyes and when you heard the little boy say “He’s gross,” you laughed while tears rolled over your cheeks.
I’d like to pay,” you stopped the waitress and gave her the cash. “It’s already paid by the lovely man at the bar,” you looked over, to find Hopper standing there. He smiled warmly at you. “Come on kid, let me take you home.”
Let me know what you think!! Thanks to everyone who helped me out!! Special thanks to @intheendyouwillalwayskneel @lastdancewith-mj @gorgeourrific-nerd @hargreevesgrace and @midnight-quartz :) If you are interested in part two comment!! <3
#Billy Hargrove#jim hopper#jim hopper x reader#stranger things#stranger things fandom#stranger things 3#stranger things imagine#wowie#koala#stranger things spoilers#stranger things spoiler#billy hargrove imagine#My writing#i love him#hes not dead#send me asks#send me anons#im sad now#my bean#dacre montgomery#billy hargrove x reader
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Hello! I live for Hopper x Reader stories! If you're able to could you please write one?? I'm new and not very familiar with requests so I'm not entirely sure what to say lol 😂 maybe a jealous/protective Hopper? Anyways thank you so much! 💕
i wrote this one on mobile, so please excuse any major mistakes! thank you for the request! 💕
Hopper watched the interactions you had with Mayor Kline through furrowed brows. The subtle touches to his arm or his fingers that were resting on top of his desk. The occasional leaning in to make yourself seem more interested in what was being said.
He knew you were doing it to get information out of him, but it didn't stop his blood from boiling. He hated seeing you flirt with another man in front if him. Every smile, every cute giggle, felt like a stab to the gut. He regretted ever asking you to come along for this.
"Thank you so much for your help, Mayor Kline," you purred, delicately swirling your finger on the desk in front of him.
"Larry. You can call me Larry."
Hopper rolled his eyes at this and promptly pulled you out of the office. You got all the information you needed; you didn't need to rub it in anymore.
You looked over at Hopper, who was clearly pouting as he started up his truck, and chuckled. Men were always so predictable. And they acted like cave men most of the time. While Hopper was working on his jealousy, he still had his moments where you could tell he was ready to mark his territory.
"Hop, we got what we needed," you gave his thigh a light squeeze, "Don't be grumpy."
"I just hate the way he was lookin' at you. Like you were some piece of meat in a pencil skirt."
You shrugged. "Technically, that's how I needed to come across to get him to spill."
"Yeah, well, still. I hated it."
You leaned across your seat and lightly kissed his cheek. His tough exterior was slowly melting away with every peck you placed on his skin. He was good at a lot of things, but resisting you was not one of those things.
"I just don't want any Russians thinking you're involved with him is all," he mumbled. "I don't need you getting hurt because he's an idiot."
"I'm not too worried about those Russians," you replied coolly.
"Oh?"
"Nah. I have a really manly boyfriend to protect me."
You give him a warm smile, and something about your words makes his chest puff out with pride. He would do anything to protect you if it came down to it, and he was glad you knew that.
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🍷 tipsy sex headcanon for Kline
Kline knows he loses it when he gets tipsy, so he is more careful about your trysts. You have been dragged away from a party more than once, just because he was in the mood, after a lot of drinks.
He knows he has to drag you away, find a motel, and go somewhere else because he gets LOUD. Really loud.
He grunts, growls, and sighs, he whispers sweet praise in your ears, and he laughs every time you come.
When he's tipsy, he loves teasing you. He will keep you in bed for a long time, holding your legs up, watching you squirm and moan, his fingers inside you.
"Look at that! So needy for me..." He says, proudly, two fingers inside you, his thumb brushing your clit in circles. "You want my cock, don't you?" You sob, nodding. "Shhh, not yet. Just a little more... Would you like another finger, sweetheart?"
He asks, pushing a third finger inside and chuckling at your moan.
"I know you do."
#mayor kline x reader#mayor kline smut#I think i am the first in this wild land#but damn#i love Cary Elwes and I can't help myself#come join me in the sewer
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I just wanna call Larry on the phone and kick my feet happily and giggling like a girl gossiping.
You wanna know what I just imagined?
Larry takes you on a vacation (of course it's a work trip for him); he pampers you the best way and tells you what time he will be back in the hotel, then leaves for his day.
You shop around, visit places, have your fun, and you walk so much you come back to the hotel early.
You take a shower, put on shorts and a tiny t-shirt and decide to call your best friend. You two quickly get engrossed in the gossip and you lie on your belly on the bed, kicking your feet.
Your friend was telling you a horribly raunchy story about a coworker, when you felt a shiver. You turned to the door, just to see Larry, leaning on the wall, eyes absolutely focused on your ass.
You giggle, and he looks up at you, raising his index to his lips.
"Go on, honey, don't mind me." He mouths, his hand already rubbing over his cock.
He sits on the corner of the bedroom, sighs, tired, and leisurely opens his pants. With slow movements, his eyes on you, he opens his pants. Larry sighs, smiling, pulling his underwear behind his balls. He licks his lips, encouraging you to pay attention to the call, as his fingers move up and down his cock.
You almost didn't want to, but you see how his eyes shine when you thumb the curly cord of the telephone, absent mindedly. You see how he exhales, watching your feet move, his fingers tightening around his cock. He moans, incredibly low, every time you giggle.
So you give him his show.
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LARRY KLINE ANGST?! SIGN ME UP!
Reinventing the Wheel
Summary: You see Larry Kline in his lowest, and he still spins his web of self confidence and lies.
One shot, part of the Out of the frying pan, into the fire series, very far into the relationship. AU that deals with Larry's arrest at the end of S3, but Hopper didn't 'die'.
A/N: I don't know, it just came to me. It's something I wanted to write and came to me today. It's a bit angsty, it's lacking porn, but it has a happy ending. I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Larry Kline x fem!Reader (Mentions of Hopper)
CW: Angst, some heavy petting, but, surprisingly, no sex.
“Come in!” Kline chirped happily behind the door. He got rid of the secretary, so he could have plausible deniability if he couldn’t make her leave by the time you exited his office. He thought of everything.
You couldn’t contain your shock when you saw him. His clothes were pristine, except for the healing signs of a beating. He had a black eye and bruises. Surprisingly, it made him look even more handsome. Larry smirked, turning his chair to you.
“You had to see the other guy.” He snorted. You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie, Larry was a lover, not a fighter. He knew he was much better with his words, but it seemed they failed him this time. But he said it anyway, the eternal dance of keeping up appearances.
“What happened, baby?” You scurried to him, standing between his legs and cupping his cheeks, then combing his hair with your fingers.
He sighed and raised his eyebrows, his hands raising to pet your hips.
“How much truth do you want?”
“All of it.”
“It was a husband.” Kline smirked again, pleased with himself. He look smug, proud, as he licked his lips and raised his eyebrows. “He found out I fucked his wife and, boy, oh, boy, he did NOT like it. But it’s just a minor setback, don’t worry. I’ve fucked most of my wife’s friends by now, it’s just a small social scandal. The worse is that they may realize by now the number of them I fucked is much higher. That could trigger some gossip.”
You chuckled at how nonchalantly he talked about it. You didn’t mind, really, if you did, fucking Larry Kline would be an even worse idea. That man was just unstoppable. He raised his hands, blinking a few times.
“In my defense, those parties are so boring. But I much prefer fucking the staff.” His hands went back to your hips. “I think of you too much.” He cheekily continued.
You chuckled, sitting on his lap, letting him rub the healthy part of his face against your breasts, his arms around your waist. He found it soothing, and he was very vocal about it.
“I just wanted to see you today.” He said, patting your hip. “I had to spend a few days in radio silence, I don’t like doing that to you.”
“I wasn’t worried.” You lie, and you knew it was a lie. He knew it was a lie. The worse thing about having him was the fact that it could end at any moment. You just hoped, when was your time, you could talk to him, say good byes. “But I missed seeing you around.”
Maybe some day something would happen, his wife could leave by herself. You didn’t want to marry him, but you would love to be with him without fear or anxiety. You played with his hair, as his hands moved up your skirt.
“I missed your taste.” Larry grunted against your skin.
You would think of that moment much later, when the end finally came. Larry got arrested. His misdeeds caught up to him. He was a corrupt man, you both knew this day was coming, he just thought he was charismatic enough to avoid it.
The gossip mill imploded. The great Larry Kline, in utter disgrace. He still had his supporters, but he would have a hard time coming back to politics. You didn’t doubt he could do it, though. You didn’t doubt he would be out of prison soon.
You wanted to visit him. You could try and call, but it would be registered. He could call, but you doubted he had your number memorized.
Time passed, work continued, you just shifted places. The gossip mill calmed, changed subjects, until you picked up his name again. His wife had left him.
You waited. You had to wait for him, it was all about what he wanted and he always knew when it was safe. But mercifully, Larry didn’t take long.
The voice message surprised you one night.
“She left. I guess everybody did. It’s safe for you to visit, if you still want to see me.”
You did.
He didn’t change much. He just looked tired. It didn’t stop him from smiling as if nothing was happening, as if you two were in a motel, as he sat before you. He donned the uniform like one of his suits. You watched people sitting together, and it could be one of the restaurants he took you sometimes. You chuckled, covering your face with one hand.
“I’m glad to be here, don’t get me wrong… It just doesn’t feel like nothing really changed, and it all did.” You said softly.
“Nothing ever changes, no one ever changes.” Larry smiles, one arm over the table. “I’m going to be out soon. I’m thinking what to do next. I could sell cars, go back into politics… There’s still something to use.”
You nod. Larry would never change.
“I like you didn’t mention leaving.”
“Why would I?” Kline said, his hand moving. “We can spin this story.”
“We? …you want me to be the official.”
“For as long as you want, me, baby.” His crooked smile widened as he leaned his head. “You and me against the world.” He moved his fingers close to yours under the guard’s watchful gaze. Your fingers brush lightly, and the guard chooses to look aside. “I think me and you…? It will be fun. We’ll be happy. We know each other and you didn’t run.”
“You’ll get tired of me and I’ll be your bored trophy wife, getting word of all your indiscretions… I don’t want that for me.”
“I’ll never get tired of you. I still want you… This?” He points to himself, then to you. “Us? I can imagine us going on for a long time. I’ll still have my indiscretions and you will have yours, it can't be avoided. Doesn’t mean I want you any less.”
You smile. That’s Larry for you.
“From all the women I ever had outside the marriage, and god, there were many… You were the first one who looked anxious about ending things. I could see you wanted to be with me, freely, without a care. Now we can.”
“Can I have any time to think?” You chuckled, enjoying his insistence.
“As much as you want, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” His bright smile made you blush. “And I know you’ll say yes, Mrs. Kline.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Larry shrugged, proud of himself. His hand twitched, a micro caress against your fingers. He huffed and moved, uncomfortable.
“Can’t wait to leave here. I miss your taste.”
“I miss your tongue.”
“It wont be long now, baby.” Larry softly comforted you. “I have good lawyers, this is temporary. But there is something I need to ask about, I’m curious.”
“What?”
“Hopper. Did he call you when I got in here?” Larry asked, propping his chin on his hand.
“No, he didn’t.” You nodded. “He was very respectful, actually. He tips his hat whenever he sees me, and he looks at me fondly.”
“Call him, he’s too respectful to do it himself.”
“Larry!” You wanted to slap his arm but you caught yourself. You couldn’t touch him. He laughed at your blush, slapping his hand on the table.
“There’s absolutely no reason why you should not be having sex. He likes you, he’s respectful of your boyfriend, me…” He points at himself, chuckling. You laughed, pleased. “Keep him, baby, you two have fun together.”
“You’re incorrigible, Larry.”
“No, no. I just have my priorities straight. You know your pleasure is my pleasure. When I’m out of here, you can tell me all in details… And I can show you why I’m better.”
#mayor kline x reader#mayor kline smut#I think i am the first in this wild land#but damn#i love Cary Elwes and I can't help myself#come join me in the sewer#mayor Kline x Reader x Hopper#mayor of slutville#maycore#mayb writes
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more dirty headcanons for Kline? ❤️
Thank you, nonnie, for asking, I have so many! (I'm so so happy someone wants to read this!)
Here is the thing: Larry Kline is a pervert. He loves to tease you in public, hoping for a quickie in a dangerous place. Part of him wants to get caught, so everyone can see how he makes you scream (and that's why Hopper actually caught him with some other lover; he isn't really ashamed of the whole thing).
Whenever there is a public event, a party, or a speech, he makes you arrive early with him and he makes the rounds around the crowd, taking moments to whisper dirty things in your ear.
So you blush, squirm, and he plays the situation in a way it all looks like you (his assistant) have a crush on him, and that's it.
Fifteen minutes before the speech (or whatever he needs to publicly do), he makes you follow him somewhere slightly private, and once it's just you two... He gives you an impish grin and licks his lips.
You can hear people outside, chatting and just passing by, as he kisses your neck, and bites your collarbone; his fingers push your panties aside and into you before you can even think of saying anything.
He watches your face as he fingers you, Larry loves to see you fighting your moans, trying to control yourself, and keep some composure. The more you fight, the more intensely he pleasures you; he's good with his fingers and there is this thing with his thumb that drives you crazy.
You can see his cock, impossibly hard, straining his pants. But whenever you try to lower your hands, he presses himself against your side, one arm around your waist, supporting your body, blocking your movements.
His timing is perfect. He always manages to make you come before anyone can notice your absence. Stepping back, he licks his fingers clean, humming, and closes his jacket, hiding his erection.
Larry steps back into the crowd with a smile, always just in time to get to the stage, and he winks at you, smiling as he leaves.
#mayor kline x reader#mayor kline smut#I think i am the first in this wild land#but damn#i love Cary Elwes and I can't help myself#come join me in the sewer#thank you for indulging me
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