FicWad

As I step into my store, I immediately become overwhelmed by the aromas of people and rebellion. Yes rebellion has a smell contrary to popular belief. And the smell of rebellion quite frankly is faintly musky, with just a touch of natural scent. Rebellion is easy to distinguish but hard to imitate.

Scanning the room desparatly, I am disappointed to only see a disinterested looking manager guy and a few girls looking at fishnets. Ugh girls have no effect upon me whatsoever. It would be so much easier to just fit in and want to violate the women, it would be easier to want to fuck as many as you can in one night, like the rest of my kind does. I shudder at how thoughtlessly and carelessly they treat these gifts of god... Well the gifts of whatever controls us. I can't imagine wanting to force yourself on a young women and taking her only to leave her the next day. As much as I am disgusted by my own gender, I can't help but wish I was like them, instead of wanting a loving lasting relationship with a charming man that cares, that truely cares, about me. Oh I know I'm a sucker for all those romantic stories where it's so easy, Prince Charming just shows up on your doorstep with a shoe you just haPpened to drop.

Anyway back to shopping, I walked as usual over to the guys section. Well obviously, you sure as hell don't shop in the women's... Except that one time wh- Oooookkkkk brain you can shut the fuck up now please. The extremely sad part is that I'm sure I'm blushing, from my own motherfucking voices.

Well nobody else would ever talk to you

Ouch.

ANYWAY, I glance over the usual stuff; the skinny jeans, the tee shirts, the combat boots, etc. Since I don't have very much money on me, I just decide to get another studded belt. I already have a pink one, which is veryyy sexy by the way. I'm torn between a black one with the Misfits logo all around, or a purple one with gold and surprisingly sharp studs.
"Hmmm purple or black...?" I wonder out loud.

"Black, defiantly." says someone behind me.

I spin around and are greeted by a wonderful view. In front of me stands a beautifully pale, skinny boy wearing, to my delight very tight clothing. My mouth almost starts watering at his well defined muscles. I'm a creep, I cant help it. I blame the creepy people inside my head. Finally, I get to his head where short white-blonde hair is gleaming, even in the dim lights of the store.

"Really? Purples a cool color...?"

"Gerard, and I agree but I'm a sucker for the misfits man."

"SamE, my names Frank but you, you can call me Frankie."

"It's a pleasure, Frankie" And with that hey takes my calloused hands in his smooth, spidery ones and places a soft kiss on the top of my hand. I giggle, I can't help it.


"So, Frankie, you wanna go grab a coffee?"

I think my heart just died from melting.