#we are all kind lil nerds

[gaytobymeres]

i think the point of a university-level education is a bit lost on some of my course mates...

[writeouswriter]

Not enough “weird” or unique looking people in media nowadays, I’m tired of generic same face stars, give me someone I can actually pick out of a police lineup, give me someone who actually has distinguishable or unique features, give me someone whose appearance will sear into the inside of my eyelids, give me a little freak

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326  @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”  

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Cinnamon Girls

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC)

Summary: Eddie never thought his nightly routine would include sneaking into a catholic collage to see his two girlfriends, but never say never, right? Wk:4.5k

Warnings: Established poly relationship, M/F/F threesome, spanking, choking, Dom!Eddie, Sub!Reader, Switch!OC, Pet names(Eddie has nicknames for both R & OC that I’ll explain in a different part), spint kink, scissoring, gum sharing?, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex. I think that’s it? Lmk if I missed any. 18+MDNI

A/N: Okay this idea came to me the other night and I was like possessed by it. I’m kind of obsessed with these three now and I’ve actually come up with other lore about them. I might expand on this lil AU if anyone’s interested. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch🧸🤍 Moodboard.

Eddie’s ringed fingers reach for the volume knob on the radio, turning it almost all the way down as he rounds the corner to his destination. He turns off the headlights as he slowly pulls his van close to the curb before cutting the engine. He always makes sure to be as quiet as possible, even if he is parked half a block down the road from the school itself. He pulls down the drivers side mirror, fluffing his unruly hair. He pops a piece of cinnamon gum into his mouth and exits his van, making sure not to slam the door like he tends to have a habit of doing.

He looks both ways, checking for bystanders. He was pretty sure there wouldn’t be anyone out on the street at 2AM, especially with the students strict curfew, but he always liked to be sure. If he got caught, he would be so fucked. He shoves the chain on his jeans in his pocket before hiking his leg up on the fence, vaulting himself as quietly as possible up and over onto the other side. He lands with a quiet thud, again checking his surroundings to make sure he was alone.

He walks around the edges of the campus, making sure to keep to the shadows and not set off any automatic lights. Once he reaches the building he’s come to know well he grabs a few small pebbles from the gravel beneath his feet. He tosses one up at the window he’s found himself crawling into most nights lately, and waits.

It only took a few seconds before he saw two heads popping into view, bright smiles on their faces. His heart rate immediately picks up, his stomach erupts with butterflies, and his cock slightly stirs in his pants at the prospect of what the night was going to bring.

Eddie quickly climbs up the conveniently placed fire exit ladder and the window is already pushed open for him when he reaches it. His long ripped jean clad legs enter the room and his boot covered feet hit the ground with a gentle thud one by one.

“My girls.” He smiles wide, taking the sides of your faces in each of his hands. “I missed you.”

“Eddieee.” You nuzzle your face into his palm, practically purring like a kitten. Looking up at him through your lashes with those big sweet eyes that drive him insane. “I missed you.”

“Hey nerd boy.” Mina chuckles, turning her face to nip at his fingers. “We saw you less than 24 hours ago.”

“So you didn’t miss me, pretty girl?” Eddie mock pouts, his thumb running along your girlfriend’s plump bottom lip.

“I didn’t say that, did I?” She rolls her eyes, taking his digit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, pulling a groan from his chest.

“Don’t fall for her tough girl act Eds, you should’ve heard her when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier… ‘fuck baby, you’re so good, I wish I was watching Eddie fuck you from behind right now’ she totally missed you.”

“Hey!” She pulls off Eddie’s thumb with a pop, a string of spit still connected to her lips. “It’s not fair to use what I say when you’re eating me out like it’s the last chance you’ll ever get against me, brat!”

“That’s okay she pretty much lost me at ‘when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier’… you two are going to fucking kill me, I swear.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back while he runs his hands down his face. The image of you and your girlfriend sneaking off in your little catholic school uniforms to get each other off driving both him and his cock insane.

“Is that doing it for you, Eddie? Thinking about us fucking when you’re not here? Because we do… All. The. Time. Before class, between class, after… we were just messing around before you got here actually…” The look on your face is innocent while the words leaving your mouth are anything but and Eddie swears every single time he comes here his dick gets harder than he ever thought possible.

“We tried to wait for you, but we just got so worked up thinking about you coming over… we couldn’t help ourselves.” Mina reaches up to run her long pointed black nails down his cheek and he grabs onto her wrist, stopping her movements.

“So you admit it then, you missed me? You can deny it if you want, but I bet the minute I get my hands on that pussy it’ll be dripping for me…” He smirks at her, his ember orbs boring into her mossy ones as his lips trail open mouth kisses down her wrist. “Show me…”

“Huh? Show you what?” Her eyes are wide, her body language much more relaxed than it had been in the last few minutes.

“You already getting all dumb on me, baby? All I did was put my lips on you…” Eddie’s large ringed hand grips her jaw, shaking her head from side to side. “Get on the bed and show me what you were doing with our girl before I got here.”

A whimper leaves her lips and it makes you clench around nothing. You always love watching them together. Mina was the more dominant of the two of you, often taking control in and out of the bedroom. So watching the way she submits so easily to Eddie makes you melt. They were both so fucking hot.

He releases her wrist and steps back, leaning against the desk near the wall. He crosses his feet at the ankles and looks at you both expectantly. His eyes finally take the time to drink you both in. If he hadn’t been so distracted by your dirty words and flirty banter what you were doing before he got here probably would’ve been obvious.

You were in nothing but a little pink cami that had a bunny printed on the front, your little white lace panties were adorned with a pink bow and you even had on fucking ruffle socks. You were the epitome of a little religious girl gone bad. Mina on the other hand was very much your opposite. Her black cut off tank top had a little skull and crossbones printed on it, her red g-string sat high on her hips, her feet were bare and the moonlight reflected off her black polished toes. She was the perfect example of what happens when religious girls rebel. Your lips were kiss swollen and her long dark hair looked like you’d been pulling at it. God, Eddie was the luckiest bastard to ever walk the earth.

He watches with his bottom lip secured between his teeth as she approaches you, one hand resting on your hip while the other grabs onto the hair at the nape of your neck. She uses her grip to pull your face to hers, kissing you with fever. Your hands snake around her to grab handfuls of her ass and she moans into your mouth.

“Wanna give Eddie a show, baby girl?” She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck ya.” You pull back from her with a glint in your eyes and a smirk on your lips. Those mischievous eyes meet Eddie’s as you pull your girlfriend by the hand towards your bed. She sits against the headboard with her legs spread and you climb on top of her. You position your legs so your hips are tilted to the side, your barely clothed core sat directly on top of hers. You roll your hips causing both of you to moan at the feeling.

Her hands grip onto your ass to help you move against her while her hips grind up to meet your thrusts. You take her face in your hands and connect your lips again, your tongue darting out across her bottom lip, silently requesting access. She grants it to you immediately, intertwining her tongue with your own while she moans into your mouth.

Eddie licks his lips at the sight, the way your girlfriend’s long nails dig into the flesh of your ass, the way your tits are pressed up against each other while you grind together. His cock is so hard it feels like it’s going to pop the button on his jeans, he hastily reaches for his belt, clumsily undoing it. Then he moves onto his button and zipper, fumbling slightly, not wanting to take his eyes off the two of you. His cock finally springs free and hits his stomach, a drop of precum dripping onto his dark faded band tee. He spits in his palm before taking his cock in his hand, stroking it roughly. A moan rips through him at the feeling of finally being touched, even if it’s his own.

“Mmm look at Eddie baby…” Your head is turned towards him now as your eyes drink him in hungrily. Mina’s face leaves the crook of your neck to follow your gaze and the sight combined with just the right roll of your hips makes her whimper.

“Fuck, you like what you see, nerd boy?” She pushes your tank top up over your tits and takes them in her soft hands without breaking eye contact with him. Your hips pick up speed and you’re both so wet now that your combined juices are making the fabric of your panties stick together with each roll of your hips.

“You know I do, pretty girl.” He smirks right back, his hand still stroking his thick cock while his eyes travel over both your bodies. Her tongue licks around your areola before she takes your nipple in her mouth, causing you to gasp.

“I want more.” You whimper. She feels so good against you, but it’s not quite enough. You need to feel her. You lift your hips just enough to use your hands to push both of your panties to the side before lowering yourself back down onto her warm wet cunt. Her clit bumps against yours and you’re both so wet you practically glide against her. “Fuck, yes.”

Eddie approaches the side of the bed, taking both of your jaws in his hands, forcing you both to look up at him. “Goddamn, you guys are so fucking sexy, can you cum like that for me? If you’re good girls and make each other cum I’ll give you my cock.”

His words spur you on, your hands coming to rest on Mina’s shoulders for leverage as you grind your wet pussy against hers. She leans forward to take your nipple into her mouth, her free hand toying with your other one.

“Oh fuuuck, yes. You’re so wet baby, you feel so good. I’m gonna cum.” You press yourself down on her hard, moving your hips in a circular motion that has her clit gliding deliciously through your wet folds. Her teeth sink into the meat of your tit, sending you over the edge. Her hands grab onto your hips, guiding you against her as your high crashes over you.

“Mmm that’s it, good girl, cum for us.” She pulls off of you so she can watch your face as you fall apart on top of her.

“Your turn.” You’re still panting as you come down from your orgasm but you use one hand to shove her shirt up over her tits, your tongue immediately flicking out to lick across her perky peaked nipples. Your other hand slides between your bodies, finding her clit with ease. You grind your palm against her sensitive bud while your tongue and lips continue their assault on her nipples.

“Fuuuuuck.” You hear Eddie groan above you and your eyes snap his direction, immediately meeting his lust filled ones. His tongue darts out across his bottom lip and you can’t see from how you’re angled but the way he’s shaking you can tell he’s jerking himself off again. You can’t wait to get your hands and mouth on every inch of him too.

“Cum for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty sounds.” You insert your middle and pointer finger inside her while your palm continues its ministrations on her clit.

“Oh my fucking god, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me - I’m gonna fucking cum!” Her sharp nails dig into your ass and a pornographic moan rips through her as she cums around your fingers. You fuck her through it, leaving open mouth kisses all across her chest.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, shit.” Eddie’s voice breaks you from your Mina induced trance and you whip your head towards him. He’s shirtless now, his jeans still hanging low on his hips, his hard leaking cock on full display.

“Mmm does that mean we earned our reward? You look damn right edible, Mr. Munson.” You smirk up at him, practically salivating at the sight of the bead of precum dripping from his slit. Eddie groans, something about you calling him that makes his cock twitch.

“Yeah, I think you earned it, Bunny. Why don’t you get over here and suck it?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You climb off Mina, crawling towards him so you can sit in front of him on your knees. She follows suit, sitting close enough to you that your bare thighs touch. Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking cum just looking at you both on your knees for him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Take your shirts off and stick out your tongues.” You turn towards your girlfriend, grabbing the hem of her already hiked up tank top and pulling it over her head. She does the same for you and then you both turn back towards him, sticking your tongues out just like he asked. “God fucking damn, have I ever told you I’m the luckiest man to ever live? Look at my beautiful girls, waiting for me to use their little throats.”

He slaps his cock against your tongue, that bead of precum you’d been eyeing dripping into your mouth just like you wanted. He glides his tip along your tongue a few times before turning to do the same to Mina. His large ringed hands come around both your heads, gripping onto the hair at the nape of your necks.

“Keep your tongues out.” He leans over you to spit in your mouth before using the grip he has on your hair to pull your face to his cock. You take the hint, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. You bob your head up and down while he gives Mina the same treatment above you, pulling her head down next to yours once he's done. You feel her lips traveling up your shoulder to your jaw, she leaves wet kisses across your cheek until she reaches your mouth. Her tongue darts out to lick the part of Eddie’s shaft that isn’t down your throat, curling around it.

“Holy fuuuucking shit.” Eddie groans, he uses the grip on your hair to pull both of your heads back again, looking down at you with lust filled eyes. “Be good girls for me and make out on my cock.”

Mina smirks up at him before leaning forward to lick along the side of his length, you follow her lead, running your tongue up the opposite side. You both lick all around his cock like it’s a lollipop, your tongues occasionally touching and intertwining around it. She takes his tip in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before taking him fully down her throat with a gag. You lean down so you can kitten lick across his balls, tasting the musky saltiness that is Eddie. You suck one of them into your mouth, your tongue massaging around the soft skin before pulling off and giving the other one the same treatment.

“Shit shit shit!!!” He pulls you both off of him with a gasp. “You gotta stop or I’m gonna fucking blow my load I swear you two are little succubi.”

“Mmm… you just taste so good, we want your human essence.” You giggle up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “You know Eds… I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet.” You pout.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Bunny, I guess I got carried away, huh? Come here.” He grabs your face in his hands, leaning down to place a kiss that was much more gentle than you were expecting on your lips. He kisses you a few times before turning to Mina and attempting to give her the same treatment. But you watch as she grabs onto his hair and tugs, pulling his face hard against her own. Her tongue licks across his lips and his darts out to meet hers. She sucks his tongue into her mouth, bringing the cinnamon gum he was chewing with her.

“You’re sweet and all, nerd boy. But I’m still really fucking horny and I believe you promised us your cock? I’d like to cash in on that now.” She bites down on his bottom lip before pulling away with a smirk, popping his gum between her teeth.

“Yeah? You want my cock? Hands and knees, both of you. I wanna try something.”

Mina pulls her thong down her legs before flipping over on her hands and knees with her back arched, her ass in the air and on full display. You do the same, wiggling your ass back and forth as you look at Eddie over your shoulder. You watch with hungry eyes as he discards his jeans. His ring adorned hand comes down on your asscheek causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

“Look at these perfect fucking assess, and they’re all mine…”

He pumps his cock a few times before running it through your slick folds, dipping the tip inside of your entrance before slapping it against your clit.

“Eddieeee…” you whine and wiggle your ass again, pushing back against him.

“Aww is a little Bunny feeling greedy?” You can hear the dumb smirk in his voice but you don’t have time to talk back before he’s shoving himself balls deep inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs. The stretch is so good, every single time. No matter how many times he fucks you it’s like he’s filling you up just right.

He starts fucking into you rough and fast, his grip on your hip is so tight that you hope the ring indents that had started to fade from last time are even darker than before. His free hand comes down hard on Mina’s asscheeks in succession before he’s soothing it with his palm and running his thick fingers through her dripping slit. He inserts two fingers inside her and starts to fuck her with them in tandem with the thrusts of his cock inside you.

“Fuck bunny, you’re so wet, this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.” The hand on your hip finds your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure while he continues to bury himself deep inside you.

“Baby, gimme a kiss.” Mina’s voice almost sounds like it’s underwater with how close you are to cumming but you turn your face towards her. She grabs your jaw in one of her hands and smashes your lips together in a desperate moan filled kiss. Her tongue slips between your lips, exploring every inch, the gum she had just taken from Eddie’s mouth slips into your own and it still somehow tastes cinnamony sweet.

“I’m gonna c - cum, I’m gonna cum.” Your words are slurred against her lips, Eddie hits that perfect spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Yeah baby? You gonna cum? Mi, why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me too?” Eddie continues his assault on your g-spot while his skilled fingers curl just right inside your shared girlfriend's cunt. It only takes a few more pumps of his cock to send you over the edge, Mina tumbling over her own right after you.

Eddie fucks you both through your highs before pulling his fingers away, he uses his other hand to grip onto your hair and pull your back flush against his chest.

“Suck.” He brings the slick covered digits to your mouth and you greedily take them in, tasting your girlfriend’s sweet nectar. “Good girl.”

He releases his grip on your hair and you fall forward, catching yourself on your hands at the last minute. You go to turn around but he grips your hips, keeping you in place.

“Stay. I didn’t say you could move, did I?” He smacks your ass before turning to Mina, roughly gripping her hips. “You want my cock now, kitty? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Just fuck me already, Munson.” Normally Eddie would take the time to tease her for her attitude, make her beg a little, but he’s so fucking hard he needs to be inside of her, right now. He grabs onto his cock, lining it up with her puffy lips, he pushes himself all the way inside of her in one thrust, throwing his head back when she clenches around him.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He leans over her so his lips brush against the shell of her ear, trailing a few kisses down her throat. He stops at the juncture of her throat, sinking his teeth down onto it while he starts to fuck into her roughly.

“Yeah, but you fucking love it.” Her chuckle turns into a strangled moan when he wraps a hand around her throat, his cock pounding into her so deep she can feel him hitting her cervix.

You look over at them and you can’t help but moan at the sight. Eddie’s head is thrown back, revealing the expanse of his thick throat, a layer of sweat covers his inked chest and he’s growling almost animalistically. Mina’s face is slightly red from the way she’s being choked, a bit of drool is dripping from the corner of her mouth and her tits are bouncing deliciously. You want to lean down and suck them, and lick the drool off her chin but you also want to be a good girl and for Eddie so you decide to stay put.

And damn does it pay off, because one second he’s pounding into your girlfriend like his life depends on it and next thing you know he’s pulling out of her and thrusting deep inside you. He’s fucking you as hard as he was fucking her, picking up the pace he left off on. He thrusts into you a few more times before he’s pulling out and plunging back into Mina. He continues like this for a bit, fucking deeply into one of you before switching off and giving the other the same treatment. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and slapping skin, and in the back of your mind you’re thankful that the girl next door moved out last week.

“My good fucking girls, letting me use your little holes like this, you’re so fucking good for me. Fuck!” Eddie pumps his into your girlfriend deep and hard, before pulling out and plunging into your wet, waiting heat. “Mi, go get in front of Bunny so I can watch her eat that pretty little pussy from the back while I fill her up with my cum.”

She’s past the point of giving him shit, so fucked out that she will do anything he asks without question. She crawls so she’s positioned on her hands and knees in front of you and your grab onto her asscheeks, spreading them apart.

“Looks so tasty…” You spread her open a few more times, watching her clench around nothing, then you lean forward and plunge your tongue as far as it can go inside of her. You fuck into her with your tongue before licking down to her clit, sucking it into your mouth.

Eddie is about to lose it, your pussy is clenching him so tight and your ass is bouncing deliciously against his hips. The sounds and the sight of you devouring your girlfriend is enhancing his pleasure by tenfold. He reaches his hand around you to rub circles on your clit, angling his hips the way he knows you love it.“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last much longer… need you to cum for me.”

You bring two of your fingers to Mina’s entrance, pushing them inside her and curling them upwards. She pushes back against you, her pussy clenches around your fingers and you can tell she’s close too.

“Shit, I’mgonnafuckingcum.” She whimpers.

“Cum for us kitty, cum on our girl's face. I’m gonna cum too - fuckingshit.” Eddie’s thrusts get sloppy but he’s still fucking you so good, the speed of his fingers picks up on your clit and you feel his cum start to spill inside you. Mina’s pussy is like a vice grip on your fingers and the moans she’s letting out are like music to your ears. It’s all so hot and it has your own orgasm wracking through your body.

You’re all panting as you pull apart from each other, throwing yourselves down on the bed with Eddie in the middle. You both rest your heads on his shoulders, your legs thrown over each of his thighs. You and Mina absentmindedly play with each others fingers that rest on Eddie’s chest.

“I can’t fucking wait until you guys get out of here.” Eddie sighs.

“Soon baby, just one more month and this catholic collage nightmare will be over.” Your girlfriend places a gentle kiss on his peck, resting her chin there so she can look up at him.

“Then our dads will finally get off our asses and release our trust funds to us. And we can buy a nice house, and get you studio time.” You lean up to kiss his jaw, mimicking Mina’s position so you can look at his beautiful face too.

“Yeah? You guys are my certified sugar mama’s I swear.” Eddie chuckles, bringing his hands up so he can cup both of your jaws. He rubs his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks and looks into both of your eyes, placing a gentle kiss on each of your lips. He seriously was the luckiest bastard to ever live.

[allysunny]

Hi Ally!! (Can I call you that?)

First of all,

*ahem*

CONGRATS ON 200 FOLLOWERS WOOOOOO✨️🩷🎉

I know that every single one is deserved, and I'm proud to be one as well 😌

I saw that you were doing a lil event to celebrate, so don't mind if I do!! 👀

I'd love it if you could write some much needed luv with Brucey! I picked 25+1 + g!

Imagine that Bruce and reader are just watching the stars, maybe either in the gardens of Wayne Manor or on top of Wayne Enterprises, and all Bruce can think is how beautiful reader looks under the shinning stars 🥹

Basically, Bruce is infatuated and he's smiling like an idiot!

You can add, take away stuff as you please, of course!

I'll wait as long as you need, so no pressure!

I'm excited to see what you come up with!!!

Much love,~ Fi 🐝

"You look stunning" / "You don't look so bad yourself" + "I love you" + Stargazing x Bale!Bruce Wayne

Words: 4k words

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, friends-to-lovers, Bruce is a big sap and he's very much in love, stargazing and talks of stars (nothing too technical). This is extremely sweet, very corny and sappy and I live for it! Written with a female reader in mind, I'm sorry but I don't yet write for GN!Reader.

A/N: First of all, thank you very very much for the kind words!! YES, you can absolutely call me Ally! Everyone can! I agree that we need some love with Bruce because this man needs happiness pleasepleaseplease...

This was my first 200 Followers Celebration entry (which is still open and you can participate!), and I'm so happy that I got to write this scenario! We don't often get to see Bale!Batman being happy, so I hope I did him justice, and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Took me some time because I had to sort out some uni stuff, but it's done and I really had fun with it!

I hope it is to your liking!

⁽ᵃˡˢᵒ, ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᶠᵘⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ, ⁱ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵃᵍᵍⁱᵉ ᵍʸˡˡᵉⁿʰᵃᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ˢᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʳᵃᶜʰᵉˡ, ⁱ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵖⁱᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵏᵃᵗⁱᵉ ʰᵒˡᵐᵉˢ 😭⁾

Parties at Wayne Manor could be oh so dreadfully boring.

Bruce didn’t particularly enjoy them, nor did he even want to throw them, but he knew it was necessary to keep up appearances. Tonight, he celebrated his birthday.

The evening had been filled with fake smiles, polite nods, firm handshakes. “Happy birthday, Mr. Wayne”s here, “You’re looking more and more like your father each day”s there, “What a spendind party this is, Mr. Wayne!”s in the corner, and, if he was feeling particularly unlucky, a few “Ah, what a lovely Manor you have, Mr. Wayne. Such a shame you’ve been keeping its beauty from the world…”s somewhere.

He’d downed one or two glasses of champagne in a few gulps, finding it harder and harder to stand the people all around him, fake leeches who hung on his every word and command, enthralled by the promises of what his money and wealth might mean to him.

Well, all except for one.

You.

You’d been friends for a while. Bruce can’t pinpoint exactly what made him think of you as his best friend other than just a regular acquaintance, but he knew he would never give you up. You were the only person who saw him for he really was, who refused to kiss his ass and baby him, who told him things as they were instead of coddling him simply because his name implied he was to be so.

He felt disarmed when he was with you, able to say anything that went on his mind. He could be himself. Could crack terrible jokes that would have you throw pillows at his face, could drop the eccentric billionaire façade and be an annoying nerd (as you so often put it), just looking for some friendship. He could talk to you for hours on end about topics that weren’t his last name, his family, his money, or his status. He could ask you for book recommendations and be told he’d enjoy this one silly adventure book about spaceships and planes, as opposed to the boring non-fiction and autobiographies usually gifted to him, “a man of culture”.

He could ask you for good restaurants and you’d take him to small, barely noticeable cafes and places that served homemade food, instead of being offered reservations at Michelin worthy restaurants. He could be a regular person.

Every time he felt himself loose grasp of his identity when adorning the black suit, he was reminded by you of who he was. You didn’t know of his secret identity but could sense when he was particularly tired or trained and were always able to put a smile on his face and return his grip on reality.

He needed you by his side. You calmed him down. You cheered him up whenever he felt upset. You made him laugh whenever all he wanted to do was cry. You didn’t question him whenever he told you he needed space, instead providing him with just that. And as days went by, Bruce Wayne was not sure if he saw you as a mere friend anymore.

After all, friends don’t linger their gazes on each other’s lips for more time than deemed appropriate. Just friends don’t make up fake problems or fake dilemmas just to get the one to visit them (let’s be honest – “I don’t know where I put my remote” was a pretty pathetic excuse and Alfred mocked the hell out of him after you’d left).

In conclusion, he needed you. By his side, to cheer him up, to get him out of boring situations, close, smiling, laughing, happy, to hug him, to be with him, etc. He needed you.

Which was why he’d invited you to celebrate a date as important as his birthday.

Bruce never really minded his birthday. He usually spent it at work during the day, politely accepting the nice words people gave him, then got home, ate his favourite dish cooked by Alfred, and left right after to protect the city of Gotham.

But unfortunately, he just had to celebrate his birthday this year. He’d been cornered by a few Wayne Enterprises associates and tricked into throwing a hell of a party in his Manor. He just sighed and filled Alfred in on the conversation he’d had at work, instructing the older man to take care of the preparations.

And of course, he’d invited you. If there was anyone that could make this dreadful celebration just a bit more bearable, it’d be you. He invited his childhood friend Rachel Dawes as well, but she’s just announced her engagement to District Attorney Harvey Dent, and while they remained friends, he did not expect her to dedicate him all of her time (especially when everyone kept asking to see her ring and tell the wonderful story of how they met).

But the problem was, you were nowhere to be found.

He knew you had arrived, Alfred had told him so, but just as he was about to chase you down the huge area that served as a ballroom, he was interrupted by a few family friends. Seeing as these were some of the few families that were in genuine good terms with his parents, and not simply greedy leeches, he decided to chat with them, smiling genuinely at their compliments and quips.

But now it’d been a few hours, and he couldn’t find you. And the combination of all of the unwanted people, the general chatter, and the lack of the one person he wanted by his side were getting to his head. And perhaps the champagne as well, even though he hadn’t drunk nearly enough to be the slightest of tipsy. What if Gotham needed him?

“Ma’am, I’m sure your quest for the very much secret next Fabergé Egg is quite intriguing, but I have a few guests I need to tend to. Everyone wants a piece of the host, what can I say? Birthday boy privileges.” He charmed the woman with one of his most dazzling smiles and pried away from her gloved grip, looking around for his knight in black and white armour.

Quickly replying to every guest that throwed a comment his way, he reached Alfred, who was standing in the corner of the room, silently accessing the party.

“Another useless conversation with any of these bloodsucking idiots and I’m killing myself,” he muttered, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing maid, and chugging the whole thing in one go.

“And here I was thinking you’d probably die at the hands of some unruly criminal, wearing the cape and cowl. All that training and fighting in some remote location only for you to die at the hands of Gotham’s wealthiest?” Alfred said, his voice laced with sarcasm and brow quirked up.

“Well Alfred, get me out of this and I might just be able to die the way you envisioned me doing so.”

“By my hand, Master Wayne?”

“Exactly.”

The two men chuckled, and Bruce took another look around the room, before turning to his butler.

“Have you seen – “

“In the gardens.”

Bruce was halfway across the ballroom, shouting “Thank you!” before Alfred could say anything else.

It took a while for him to find you.

After all, the gardens were filled with people talking, catching up, and the occasional couple slobbering all over each other’s mouths, apologizing profusely once they saw the Manor’s owner stride past them.

“Bruce?”

He turned around and was met with Rachel’s smiling face.

“Running off so soon?” she asked, Harvey Dent’s unmistakable figure walking up next to her right after.

“Yes, well, one can only get so much attention before they start getting bored of it.”

Rachel gave him a sympathetic look, and shook her head, nudging it towards Harvey.

“You don’t have to pretend with us.”

With these words, a weight was lifted off Bruce’s shoulders. His posture wasn’t perfect anymore, and the charming, cocky smile left his lips.

“If I have to talk to one more person who wishes to know who the hell decorated the living room…” Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“I get it,” Harvey said, shaking his head. “If only people were interested in something other than how much I spent on Rachel’s ring, I’d feel more inclined to interact with them.”

Bruce nodded and smiled in understanding, before looking around. He thought he’d glanced at a very familiar face, but unfortunately, it wasn’t you.

“Looking for someone?” Rachel asked with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, actually, have you seen – “

“She was near the apple tree in the back.”

“Thank you.” Bruce nodded and all but sprinted towards the place, leaving Rachel to giggle with a rather confused Harvey.

“Who’s he talking about?” he asked.

“A “friend” of his,” Rachel replied nonchalantly.

“He seemed rather eager to see this friend of his. Surely that’s not all there is to her.” He chuckled; brow quirked up.

“And that, Harvey, is what everyone else but the two of them have figured out.”

Bruce did not hear what his friend had said, but if he did, he’d have gently corrected her.

Because he had, in fact, figured out whatever he felt about you.

Mostly.

He knew he liked you, that’s for sure.

He liked your smile. He liked your personality. He liked how your nose wrinkled up whenever you were cooking. He liked how your eyes sparkled whenever he gifted you a new volume of a book series you’d been collecting, or the way your laughter resonated across the Manor whenever you beat him at videogames. He liked how you always stopped to pet cats and dogs on the street, and how you made funny faces at babies in the supermarket.

He liked how his Manor, although big and empty, seemed full of life with you in it. Even if you were cuddled up on one of his couches, watching a movie, he always thought of it was warmer and more inviting just from your mere presence. He liked it when you massaged his head, thumbs circling his forehead so gently that he often found himself falling asleep in your lap. He liked your touch – found it addictive. Pulling you close to him on the street to protect you from traffic, hugging you every time he saw you, having you throw fake punches at him whenever he told a terrible joke.

He likes you. That much is clear.

But why was it so damn hard admitting that to you?

His steps slowed down as he approached a very familiar apple tree. Wayne Manor had plenty of beautiful plants and trees, much more so than this one. But there was something about it that always caught your eye. Not to mention, it was near a secluded area of the gardens, and you had always been fond of hiding in there. “It makes me feel at peace”, you told him.

Sure enough, that’s where he found you. Staring at the night sky, pretty locks of hair carefully styled with a few flower clips, hands resting one on top of the other behind your back.

You turned to him, shaken up by the sound of footsteps, and he took you in.

And, wow.

To say you looked beautiful would’ve been a crime - such a word couldn’t do you justice.

You wore a sparkly silver gown that pooled softly at your feet, your form modestly accentuated. Two silver straps held it at the front, coming together in a flattering cleavage. Your back was on display, and Bruce had to control himself not to touch it with his bare hands. You looked lovely, your silhouette shining beneath the stars. Their gentle glow was casting a perfect light on you, making you look even more like the celestial bodies you were admiring.

“Bruce?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

Bruce shook his head, grounding himself.

“Yes. Hey – hey.”

“Cat got your tongue? I said happy birthday,” you smiled and walked up to him, silver dress twinkling with each step you took.

It was as if all of you were made of pure, sheer, dazzling starlight.

“Won’t your guests miss you?”

Bruce approached you halfway and gave you a shrug.

“Probably. Doesn’t mean I’m going to miss them.” This earned a smile from you, and Bruce found himself smiling too. His gaze lingered on your face for a while, before descending once more and taking your lovely figure in again.

“You look stunning,” he said, and you seemed to blossom at his praise.

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” And he didn’t. With his black tux and matching bow, he was the picture of elegance and charm. And that disarmingly charismatic smile of his was helping him a long way. There was a reason of course, women fawned over his good looks.

“What are you doing out here?” Bruce asked nodding his head towards the night sky, the one you had been looking at.

“I couldn’t take it in there anymore. It was way too loud, and everyone was way too fake,” you rolled your eyes and sighed. “And the sky is looking far too beautiful tonight. At least here I won’t be disturbed.”

“Well, I did just disturb you, so I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“I wouldn’t call it disturbing. Your presence is always welcome.”

For a while, the two of you stood side by side, just watching as the sky glittered above. It was peaceful and quiet, and everything Bruce had wanted for his birthday. A nice, uneventful evening with you by his side.

“I can’t believe you can actually see the stars tonight,” Bruce mumbled, genuinely impressed. Usually, as the industrial and active city it was, one never got to see the stars thanks to smoke, lights, or other manmade obstacles. But tonight, the sky was clear and bright, and no clouds were in sight.

“Right?” you smiled, pointing at the sky above you. “Look over there – see that one?”

“Which?” Bruce squinted.

“That one – the kyte.”

“Ah. Yes. I do.”

“That’s the Big Dipper.”

“And the other one next to it?”

“That’s the Small Dipper. Can you see that bright star at the end of it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Polaris, the Polar Star. It’s supposedly the brightest star in the night sky.”

“I can think of something brighter,” he muttered stealing a glance at you.

You leaned against him and spoke of constellations and stars to him. Told him the myths that surrounded each one, how far they were from the Earth, how they’d come to be discovered. The party had been long forgotten by the two of you, and after a few minutes of discussing each constellation and their origin, you fell into a comfortable silence, just happy to listen to the happy sounds of crickets and the soft wind brushing against the trees.

“I got you something,” you said, breaking the silence after a while.

He turned to you as you opened your purse and pulled out a small, rectangular object carefully wrapped in golden wrapping paper.

“I know it’s not much – “

“[Y/N]”

“Shush! I know it’s not much, but I worked hard to find it.”

You handed him the small package and he was careful to not rip the whole thing open. Bruce carefully removed a book from inside, and his eyes widened.

“The Great Gatsby?”

“Open it.”

He did, and his eyebrows nearly rose to his hairline.

“Is this?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce carefully touched the inked paper, eyes going over F. Scott Fitzgerald’s words over and over again.

“Where’d you find this?” he asked with a smile.

“That’s a secret. But it’s been quality checked a few times, and I can guarantee it’s the real deal.”

“So, with “It’s not much”, you meant you were giving me a signed copy of The Great Gatsby?”

“You deserve more than that, Bruce.”

In a heartbeat, he had embraced you tightly. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around him. Overcome with joy, Bruce spun you around once your twice, and you laughed loudly, holding onto him for dear life.

“Be careful Bruce – shit, don’t drop me!” You protested in between giggles.

Bruce came to a stop, and looked right into your eyes, the world’s biggest grin playing on his lips. It’d been a while since you’ve seen him laugh so freely. Such occurrences were rare – Bruce wasn’t one to smile, not really. But when he did, it was a lovely thing. Not one of his fake smiles, the ones practiced in front of a mirror to impress rich folks and Gotham socialites – the real ones, the ones he gave you in special, true moments like these.

You’d do anything to see him smile like this more often.

“I’d never drop you,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he swore he could see one hundred stars in the spark of your eyes. In fact, the stars in the sky did not hold a candle to your beauty, no celestial body would ever be more fascinating than your eyes. He was sure astronauts had to be wrong – how did they want to explore the galaxy, when there was one right here, staring into him?

“I know,” you whispered back, hands still on his chest. “I trust you.”

He waited for a minute, eyeing the contours of your face, memorising the way your mouth parted and how soft strands of hair fell on top of your forehead. You stood still, still observing the smile that never left his lips.

“Do you?” He broke the silence.

“Hm?”

“Trust me.”

“Of course I do. I’ll always trust you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, Bruce. Always.”

“Please remember those words after I do what I’m about to do.” He chuckled and leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a silent request. Your breath hitched and you looked up at him, to find his eyes closed. You were inches away from him, and yet, he refused to move any further.

“Tell me it’s not just me,” he whispered. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, and it sent goosebumps all over your body. “Tell me the way I feel about you is not one-sided. But if it is – “ and you swore you felt him tense, “I’ll leave it alone. We’ll forget this ever happened; we’ll go back to being friends. But please, just tell me.”

You took shaky breaths, still feeling dazed from being so close to him.

Bruce remained with his eyes closed – he didn’t have it in himself to look at you, not right now. He was far too scared of what he might find in your eyes. Regret, disgust, hate. He couldn’t deal with it.

But the worst thing was the silence. Weren’t you going to say something? Were you going to taunt him forever? He could feel your body against his hands, soft skin sending shivers down his spine, so he knew you hadn’t left yet. Why weren’t you replying?

He got his answer when you pressed closer against him, and he felt your lips on his.

Bruce had fantasised about how his first kiss with you would be, but nothing prepared him for this moment. It was as if you were made for him, slotting perfectly against your body, hands on the small of your back, bringing you closer while your hands rested on his cheeks. Your lips moved in unison, as if speaking a language of their own, and Bruce felt slightly lightheaded.

You tasted sweet – probably from the chocolate covered strawberries you’d no doubt been stealing inside, and wanted to savour them, savour you, for as long as he could.

When you two parted for air, he pressed his forehead against yours, finally opening his eyes. The view was breathtaking; your lips were puffy and parted, your eyes were big and wide, pupils dilated and sparkling in the moonlight. Bruce swore you’d never been so beautiful.

And then he smiled, widely, and burst into chuckles like a lovesick teenager.

“You look beautiful. Have I told you this yet?”

“You have,” you replied, caressing the skin of his cheek. He leaned into your touch, pressing a tender kiss on your palm. “You do too. I love to see you smiling. You should smile more often.”

“Like this?” he asked, pointing at his grin.

“Yes – exactly like that. I could see you smiling more often. And I bet Alfred could too.”

Bruce grinned and kissed your forehead. After, he kissed each of your cheeks, and then the palm of your hand, and then the back.

“As long as you’re by my side, I’m sure I’ll smile much more often.” He confesses.

“Well,” you brought his body closer to you, and all Bruce could think of was how stunning you were, how beautiful you looked, how lucky he was to hold a star in his hands. “I don’t plan on leaving, Birthday Boy.”

It was so uncharacteristic of him. He never smiled this often, and certainly, never for this long, but Bruce couldn’t help it. He was happy. He had you, right there and then with him. Everything was well – more than well, everything was perfect. So why wouldn’t he smile?

His heart was getting fuller and fuller, and he blurted out the next words, without giving them much thought.

“I love you.”

You stared at him, eyes wide, surprise written all over your face.

And Bruce kept speaking, because for once, he was not at a loss for words, he knew exactly what to say.

“I think I’ve loved you ever since I first saw you. I love you and the way you brighten my days and make me feel like something when I can barely get out of bed. I love how you always manage to pick up the pieces whenever I’m shattered and never make me feel responsible for it. I love you. I love your beautiful face, your bright mind, your kind soul, your feisty spirit. I love you – I think I have for a long time, but I’ve never had the courage to tell you. But tonight – this party – you – it's made me realise something. This is Gotham. I could wake up tomorrow, and you’d be gone. I’d be gone. Anything could happen in this city. And I can’t let them happen without you knowing how I feel about you. I’m not expecting an answer back; I know this is a lot of information. And I know I come with a lot of baggage. There’s a lot about me you don’t know, and I haven’t told people to keep them away and keep them safe. But, if you’ll have me, I promise to spend the rest of my days making it all worth it. I will love you and take care of you forever, I promise. I love you, [Y/N].”

You looked at him, and Bruce saw your eyes sparkle with unshed tears. Had he scared you off? Were you upset? He reached out to hold your face, ready to wipe the tears away should they fall.

“I’m sorry. That was too much, wasn’t it?”

“I… I think I love you too.” You replied. The tears did not roll very far down your face, because Bruce was there to wipe them away. And in that moment, you knew he would always be there, be it to catch you, or wipe away your tears, or hold you close. “I really do.”

Bruce’s smile only widened, and he picked you up once again, spinning you around in the darkness of the garden. Your dress floated around you, like a shooting star’s trail, and he laughed loudly. He hadn’t felt this happy, truly happy in a big while. You joined him in laughter, and he put you down carefully.

“Thank you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“For what?”

“For the perfect birthday gift.” Bruce bent down to capture your lips once more, and stare into your eyes. “You look like starlight tonight. You look perfect. And I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He smiled and kissed you again, because the stars were shining, and you looked beautiful, and his heart was full.

Bruce Wayne didn’t smile very often. But how could he not, when you rivalled the stars up above, and were his, and made his heart burst with joy?

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys liked it! I'm afraid it was a tiny bit rushed - please do tell if it was. I hope it lived up to the expectations!

Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you have an amazing day ahead!

[bearotonin-international]

Hello fellow bear lovers! I have an oc who is a kermode bear centaur (human waist up, bear waist down)! I don’t get much practice drawing him though :/ could you give me some goofy kermode bear (or normal blackbear!) pictures i can use for practice?

so we know you didn't ask for this but the team's gonna nerd out for a couple minutes here and provide a couple fun facts about kermode bears (the team is procrastinating doing actual work). and then provide the requested photos as we always do :)

for anyone who doesn't know, kermode bears are a subspecies of black bears, and most kermode bears do not actually have white coats. kermode bears with white coats are called spirit bears (and only about 10-20% of kermode bears are spirit bears). the white of the spirit bear is a specific coat color morph that is much more genetically common in the kermode bear population. (there's a recessive mutant gene that must be present in both parents (bearants) for the cub to be a spirit bear).

(here's a funky lil graphic about spirit bear genetics)

so it's pretty common for kermode bear mixed families with cubs that are different colors from their mothers and/or each other

there is research suggesting two primary reasons the prominence of the white coat in kermode bears is because it gives the bears an advantage while fishing during the day time, because the fish are less likely to see their light coats from underwater (kermode bears are supremely skilled and successful slammers of salmon) (there's all kinds of fun facts about the dietary differences of spirit bears and kermode bears inhabiting the same reasons).

another reason for the prominence of spirit bears is because of positive assortative mating (aka white kermode bears breed more with other white kermode bears (and black kermode bears tend to breed more with other black kermode bears)) (one of the fun theories for why this occurs is that babies are more likely to imprint on their mother's coat color)

there's all kinds of other fun facts about spirit & kermode bears, but we've gone on long enough so

TLDR not all kermode bears are spirit bears but all spirit bears are kermode bears

okay now on to some silly kermode bears as actually requested

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #10 nerd heard?

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

masterlist ▸ 009 seeing red.  ▸ 011 coming soon

note/s: hiii my beautiful bbg’s!! i hope you’re all having a holly jolly holiday szn. i didn’t want you to have to wait for a lil update until after the holidays. hope you enjoy && thank you sm for being so cute and kind to me ily xo.

tag list:  @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, porridgesblog,,  jasssy051, @soonyoungblr, @saucegirlreads, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @young-adult-summer, @punkhazardlaw, @bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo @k-drama-adict @90s-belladonna @blaycke

[ryo-apologist]

Racer! Link

Racer! Link x Reader

CW: Smut, Minors DNI, I will block your ass, author knows nothing about racing and it shows

AN: Yes, this is about that Link. The one with the elf ears, says "Hyah!". Yeah I'm a Linked Universe Nerd. Sucks to be y'all. Keep ya guessing on which fandom has my balls this week.

~Darling XOXO

☾ So, I hesitated writing this for a number of reasons, but I decided I don't care. Hozier has a new song, April has me face down in the mattress with how hard it's fucked me and I just want to write about a Link near and and dear to my heart.

☾ Mario Kart Link.

☾ He's just a silly lil goober who's always having a good time. Especially when I play as him because what is second place? He'll never know.

☾ I know, canonically, both are Skyward Sword! Link and Breath of the Wild! Link. I do not care.

☾ Because come with me, sinner, as we explore a whole new world. A world where Mario Kart isn't a silly lil game. It's an empire.

☾ Like Fast and the Furious (I think, idk I never watched any of them). OR like sk8 the infinity at S. I do know that one.

☾ There are real things at stake here. It's intense, and it's heavy.

☾ Here, give me a break while I do some worldbuilding here. Mystery blocks are still a thing, they work by magic idk, except getting hit by one of those things is devastating. It's why the newcomers don't last long.

☾ All the main screen players (Mario, Luigi, Bowser, Inkling boy, etc.) are high level racers. They are A-listed and the ones you look out for if you see them in the lineup.

☾ Including Link himself. He drives a motorcycle he named Epona, which he built himself from scratch.

☾ I spent a lot of time (three minutes) trying to figure out a clever nickname for him, and then I saw some of the names other people gave their Linksona's and, while there's nothing wrong with them, I quickly realized I was overthinking things.

☾ It's mostly a stage name, his name is Link and outside of the raceway, he goes by it.

☾ But, for shits and giggles, and point of discerning him from the others, I don't care. Call him ratchet, greaser, racer, cypher, tank, axel, sparks. I'm giving you all the freedom! Me? Personally? I'm going to call him:

☾ Neo- a combining form meaning “new,” “recent,” “revived,” “modified,”

☾ Great I gave you some background, let's get into the fun parts.

☾ Neo, where do we begin with you.

☾ Have y'all read A Court of Mist and Fury? You know Rhysand?

☾ He's Cassian coded.

☾ LMAO You thought.

☾ He's a fun, kind-of guy but when shit gets real, he can shift from zero to a hundred like that.

☾ He'll be laughing with a newbie, patting them on the shoulder, but the second that visor comes down, he's unrecognizable. He's an A-lister for a reason.

☾ He's infamous for taking shortcuts that are insanely dangerous. He's almost always bandaged somewhere, but not his pretty boy, play bunny face.

☾ So Cassian and Lightning McQueen.

☾ He's totally the kind to shoot a wink and a flirty wave, spend the night and then be gone by morning. Or have them escorted out by his Zelda in the morning, Tony Stark style

☾ He's a slut.

☾ Can you tell I like my men slutty?

☾ And he's such a....character in bed.

☾ He's a selfish lover, but make no mistake about it. His partner gets their end. That's right. I said lover. He's fucked bowser.

☾ I'm kidding

☾ No I'm not.

☾ He doesn't care who's in his bed. Man, woman, the funky others who say FUCK YOU to the gender spectrum /pos

☾ He'll bottom, top, switch it up mid-way through. He just like me fr.

☾But he's not lazy. Selfish, yes, but lazy? No. He's the best rider both on and off Epona, yk yk.

☾ And he has such a pretty cock too. A pretty flushed pink, circumcised with such a lovely vein running up the bottom of it. And while pretty, sorry his balls aren't much to write home about.

☾ They are dangerously sensitive though. Suck on them and run your thumb along the head of his dick and he'll whimper.

☾ SPEAKING OF-

☾ He whimpers so nicely. God, when he's in the middle of bouncing up and down on you (artificial or organic both are good), and his own hands are running up his chest, plucking at his own pebbled nipples and playing with the piercings as his head is thrown back in pure bliss-

☾ He's probably sponsored by Monster Energy

☾ Has a sugar daddy FOR SURE. God wish I was HIM.

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - Part 20 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: SEXXXXXXXX. Dom/sub stuff. Angst (as always). Fluff (finally)? Medication/drug use/overdose mentions. Dub con mentions(sort of?). Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 15.2k (CUZ Y'ALL DESERVE IT)

A/N:  🎶And now, the end is near/And so I face the final curtain🎶

Babies, we are at the end. I don't know what to say other than thank you all so very much, thank you for you patience, and I'm gonna miss the hell out of Reader and Elvis and their stupid, mutual pining asses. (I'm not crying, you are!) 😭 Oh, and I highly recommend listening to Without Love (I Have Nothing) (1969) before reading the middle section here. I've included the first takes to the final master version because the first takes are stripped down & give more of the intimate feel I was getting at, but the final master is excellent, so I wanted to give you listening options! It'll really give you an idea of what the moment feels and sounds like! (I'm such a nerd, I know. Also, only Elvis could nail a song like this in a few takes, lord have mercy.)

I will write a short Epilogue sometime soon, so stay tuned! Also, I am very seriously thinking about publishing a physical book of Pink Scarf (and a Kindle version, too) BUT ONLY IF people are wanting and willing to buy it! It would likely include new bonus chapters/material. Please let me know in the comments, asks, or DMs if this is something you want! Like I said, I don't wanna do it if no one wants it, so let me know!

I sincerely hope y'all will stick around for my next projects as I try to get my writing career off the ground. Y'all are the OG's and the best fans a girl could ask for! 💗

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

Finally, I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY! I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

Stop her, stop her, stop her…

The words echo in his head, but Elvis is frozen to the spot, watching your back as you walk out the door and possibly out of his life, feeling so raw he fears his heart might liquify and pour out of his mouth. The way you look so angry, more angry than he’s ever seen you, and so disappointed in him—it breaks his goddamn heart. Your vitriol paralyzes him, drying up the words that he can’t seem to tell you.

But he’s done it all for you, every stupid decision he made, he did in the name of love—and of keeping you safe and keeping you sane (you fuckin’ liar, you know that ain’t true, he lambasts himself).

“You screwed with our lives because you could. You and your fucking egomaniacal, insane, manipulative bullshit…” Your words cut like daggers into his skin. He wants those words to be utterly untrue, outright lies, but he knows—he knows—that you are not entirely off base.

And perhaps that’s been the problem all along: he doesn’t truly believe he deserves you. For all the reasons you spit at him and for the fact that he has ruined you in more ways than one.

But the one crucial thing you are dead wrong about is that he didn’t care, that he’d just fucked you and wanted to pretend it never happened. He may be many of the things you said—egotistical, manipulative, stupid for lying to you—but he loves you, more than he has ever been able to express.

If anything, he’s cared too much.

But you are convinced of the opposite and, stupidly, he didn’t tell you any different.

This is the thing that finally gets him moving. His heart thrums in his chest as he races out the door, desperate to catch up to you. He looks around frantically for you, barely processing the confused and pitied looks of the men around him and flies out the main door of the penthouse suite.

“Y/n!” he shouts, hoping he can salvage this because he needs you more than he needs air to breathe.

I love you, I love you, I love you! screams in his mind but not out of his mouth, for reasons he can’t entirely explain. He arrives in the hallway just in time to see the elevator doors close behind you.

He’s too late.

“Fuck!!” he screams, and without thinking turns and plunges his fist into the wall. Plaster and paint flake around the new divot and burning pain radiates up his arm.

He nearly collapses from the way his heart tears in two, the gravity of the situation hitting him all at once. He’s barely slept in days, what with taking care of you in the hospital, being wracked with worry, and then having to come back and give high quality performances as if life was normal. His heart is beating too fast and his limbs feel weak.

Suddenly, everything feels much too heavy.

His legs threaten to give way and he leans against the wall, furious at you for making him feel these things. But he is more furious at himself.

You didn’t even say you were sorry, you stupid fucker, a little voice berates him.

I have nothing to be sorry for, the stubborn part of him, the one driven by his ego, replies.

The inner voice laughs sardonically. You have everything to be sorry for.

“EP!” he hears Jerry’s alarmed voice from far away. But he’s beyond caring.

I’ve lost her, is all he can think as his vision blurs and narrows, After all this, I’ve still lost her.

Jerry rushes to his side, but the despair and fury within Elvis drives him back into the penthouse, causing destruction along the way. He barely registers tearing the rest of his room apart, only knowing that he needs some outlet, some release of these horrible feelings trapped inside of him. To purge himself of the fact that even with all he tried to do to prevent it, his worst fears had still come to pass. Distantly, he’s aware of the breaking glass and the ripping of fabric and the roaring sound coming from his mouth, but everything is unfocused and red in his mind.

Elvis does this until finally his body gives out and he collapses on the bed. As he comes back into himself, his heart is beating so hard and so fast that he’s actually a little afraid he will give himself a heart attack. Trying to steady his breathing, he looks up, and seeing himself in the mirror above the bed, he hardly recognizes the man lying there.

Self-pity descends rapidly. There’s no way she’ll ever love me after this. How could she?

Early in his life, he’d thought June had been his last hope of ever having a woman love him for who he truly is, stripped of fame, warts and all, but he’s long since realized that you are that woman. You are his last chance at having that kind of true love in his life. And now those dreams are dying right in front of him because of his own stupidity.

I’ll always be alone.

And with that thought, he closes his eyes and wishes he were anyone else but Elvis Presley.

*

The commotion outside his bedroom door has Elvis lifting his chin expectantly yet not hopefully. He’s spent the last three hours faking his way through his midnight show trying to push the horrified and angry look on your face out of his mind. Trying to forget that he let you walk out his door.

Needless to say, it wasn’t his best show, though bellowing out his feelings through the music was cathartic in its own way.

He’s not sure why he had frozen like he did. It certainly wasn’t like him to cow-tow in the midst of a fight, but he had promised himself in the hospital that he’d be gentler with you. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing you so completely furious. Maybe it was that you’d finally remembered what happened after so many years, unearthing his deepest, darkest secrets and mirroring them back to him in the worst of ways. Or maybe it was that so many of your words rang with truth, even though you’d misunderstood the core reasons behind his actions.

Either way, he feels like his heart was ripped out of his chest. Part of him yearns to do more self-destructive things, but instead he sits still on the edge of his giant bed, the one you should be in right now, trying to understand just how completely he managed to screw this up.

“Fuck you, Elvis Presley. It would’ve changed everything.”

Your words ring through his head again and again, like a broken record. What did you mean by that exactly? Because the crushed look on your face when you said it made it seem like you had feelings for him back then that if realized would’ve changed your relationship, and that sends a wave of heartache through him so strong that he feels like he might vomit.

“Jerry, I swear to God, if you don’t let me in there, you’ll be sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future!” He hears Sandy’s voice through the door and closes his eyes, trying to prepare himself for what he thinks is coming.

The door bursts open and he opens his eyes to see Sandy storm in, Jerry looking incredibly apologetic and a bit mortified that he was unable (or unwilling) to stop his wife.

Elvis waves Jerry off. He knows he can’t stop the onslaught. Jerry raises his eyebrows in an, “Are you sure?” way, and Elvis sends him out with a look.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Presley,” Sandy seethes, pointing at him once the door is closed behind her.

“Nice to see you, too, Sandra,” he responds wearily.

“Oh, don’t you ‘Sandra’ me,” she spits, then looks him over carefully, as if really seeing him. She surveys the disaster of the room, which he had completely torn to shreds after you left, then looks back at him. “You look like shit,” she adds matter-of-factly, almost as if she’s glad of it.

He can’t help shooting her a withering glare, but Sandy’s blood is up and does not falter under his gaze like most would.

“How is she?” he finally asks, dreading the answer.

“Well, let’s see…in the last three days her husband beat her up, her life imploded, and she just found out that her lover has been hiding some pretty crucial shit from her for over a decade. She sobbed for two hours straight and has been near catatonic since, so she’s just peachy, Elvis,” Sandy says sarcastically.

“Watch your tone, Sandra,” he warns, feeling his temper threaten.

“No, I don’t think I will, Elvis. Not when y/n is absolutely miserable and you are sitting up here doing nothing about it,” Sandy shoots back.

“This ain’t none of your business,” he says, vexed, standing and pointing a ring-clad finger at her. He likes Sandy, but he sure as hell doesn’t like her calling him out like this, not when he’s already been beating himself up about it.

Sandy laughs wickedly, “You made it my business the moment you let her tell me and started using me as cover for your lies.”

He can’t argue with that. Deflated, he runs his hand over his face. He is utterly miserable.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Sandy says, and this time, her voice is quieter, gentler. “How could you keep something like that a secret for this long?”

He doesn’t want to say and certainly doesn’t want to appear vulnerable, but the ache in him is so bad, he can’t hide it. And he knows for a fact Sandy won’t let this go. Finally, he relents.

“I-I-I was trying to protect her, to protect our friendship… I w-was terrified I’d hurt her, that I’d…taken her against her will, and I-I-I could barely live with myself. I couldn’t burden her with the enormity of what we’d done” he says.

“And what about pushing her and Jack together, all the interfering? How exactly does that line up, E?” Sandy asks pointedly.

Elvis clears his throat and looks down. That is not something he is proud of. He wants to say he didn’t mean for it to go that way, but it would be a lie.

“It wasn’t like that, not at first. By the time I realized how I really felt about her, Jack had already swooped in and asked her out. I had nothin’ to do with it,” he says defensively.

Sandy crosses her arms, not accepting that and waits for him to continue.

“Well, then…then I-I realized she’d be better off with a man who could give her the stability and the family she wanted. I couldn’t be there for her, not the way she deserved. My career was just takin’ off and I—well, hell, it didn’t even matter until that day at Graceland, and I was ready to throw it all out the window when I’d thought she felt the same way about me that I felt for her, but-but then she…the overdose, she didn’t even remember…How was I supposed to explain that to her, Sandra? How? How was I gonna look her in the eyes and tell her she came on to me and we made love on the floor and that it completely changed everything? Who was gonna believe that? You know as well as I that it would’ve ruined her!” he says, his heart pounding, voice quavering, and his blood up.

Sandy looks at him carefully. “You were afraid she didn’t feel the same way. And that she doesn’t now,” she states, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

His head snaps up to look at her, eyes wide and caught like a deer in headlights.

“I had to protect her. And I had to set her up so she’d always be taken care of. And if she was with Jack, I could do that for her, for them. They could be happy. I wanted them to be happy, I-I swear. I thought they’d be happy!” he yells, back off the rails, pacing the room like a caged tiger.“I-I-I could…w-w-well, if she wasn’t with me, at least with him I would always know she was okay, and I could see her and it wouldn’t be some random-ass man that I didn’t know or trust takin’ her away from me forever!”

Sandy stays quiet, her gaze intense and knowing, and just waits for him to continue.

“I-I-I needed her to still be in my life, Sandra. I didn’t know Jack would fall so deep into the hole that he’d throw everything away. I didn’t think he would ever, ever hurt her!”

The words of his confession ring out and then die. Silence sits heavy for a moment.

“Wow. I have to say, that’s some masterful denial there,” Sandy finally says harshly. “Did you really think it was gonna be good for their marriage to take him away for months at a time? To feed him women and drugs and then be like, ‘Ooops! I didn’t know! It’s not my fault!’? Really?” she adds cuttingly, but steadily.

She’s right and he knows it. And she’s pushing him to admit the one thing he’s not sure he can.

He wants to get angry. He wants to scream and throw her out for her audacity. Instead, he just feels a rock in the pit of his stomach, realizing the truth of what she’s getting at:

That he’d knowingly sabotaged your marriage and then, when it was really bad, he’d taken advantage of the situation.

“You need to own up to what you did and apologize, and then you need to tell her what you’re so afraid of, Elvis. I can’t emphasize enough how much she needs to know that you love her,” Sandy continues with conviction.

His mouth pops open and then closes again, wordlessly, at hearing his feelings shared out loud so easily when he’s been harboring them alone for so many years. “You didn’t see how angry she was with me, how betrayed she looked…There’s no way she feels how I do, not after this,” he shakes his head.

Sandy rolls her eyes and mutters something unintelligible under her breath. “Listen, I have a pretty good idea how pissed and betrayed she’s feeling. And I’m not gonna speak for her, but…” she worries her lip a little, “you two of you really need to talk about how you truly feel about each other. Without all the other shit in the way.”

Something in the way she says it gives him hope.

“You need to fix this, Elvis.”

“I-I-I don’t think I can,” he states, defeated.

“Oh, please. We both know you can do anything when you want it bad enough,” she smiles slyly.

Once again, she’s right. “Why are you helping me?” he asks.

“Because I love her, too, and she deserves to be happy. She deserves the best,” she says knowingly, “That and this mess has everyone on pins and needles. We all just wanna fucking relax.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe he can salvage this. Just not right now. He is too exhausted and things feel too raw.

"Just...wait a little bit," Sandy adds carefully, as if reading his mind. “I think you both need a little breather.”

He nods.

“But don’t wait too long,” she says on her way out the door, her voice warning him of his worst fear: if he waits too long, he will lose her.

The door clicks shut behind her and silence falls once again. He glances at the bottles on the bedside table. As exhausted as he is, he’s still keyed up too much to sleep.

He doesn’t want to rely on the sleeping pills, in fact, he hadn’t needed them at all when you were in his bed, but his body craves them and he doesn’t have the wherewithal to resist at the moment. So, he pops a few down and waits for the drowsy effect to take hold of him.

When he closes his eyes, all he can see is you.

**

You are itching to play, yearning to feel the white and black ivories under your fingertips. It feels like it might be the only thing keeping you sane these past few days—this need to pour your entire heart into something beyond yourself.

Unfortunately for you, the only pianos you know of are in Elvis’ suite, on his stage, and in the rehearsal room. Two of those aren’t even options at this point. It’s bad enough that anywhere you go in the hotel, all you see is his visage, all you hear is his music feeding through the speakers. An ever-constant reminder of how stupid you are to have ever thought you’d be more to him than just a friend.

You can’t seem to escape him.

You are able, with little effort, to convince Sandy to talk Jerry into letting you into the rehearsal space. Both of them keep looking at you with kind yet sad eyes, as they’ve been witness to all your special humiliations these past few weeks. You suppose it’s good that you are not alone with this, but sometimes all you want is to scream bloody murder and get as far away as possible from Vegas, from Jack, from Elvis.

But you can’t go home, not right now. You learned that Elvis sent Jack back to Memphis to “get himself together” and that Red is his babysitter. But that means you can’t go back to Tennessee, not yet. You can’t face him with all this still up in the air.

So, you are stuck in the limbo that is Las Vegas. You have nothing of your own, no money, no way to get home even if you wanted to. You are exactly where you feared you would be: Alone and heartbroken and stuck.

You hadn’t counted on also being beat to hell, both physically and emotionally.

Which is why you are so desperate to get to a piano. It’s the only way you can get these awful feelings out of your system. You just need to lose yourself in music, in creating it.

But when Jerry lets you in to the large rehearsal space, you are not alone. Someone is already at the piano, their back to you, playing a mournful gospel-style ballad. Someone is already leaning into the keys and singing.

I awakened this morning, I was filled with despair All my dreams turned to ashes and gone, oh yeah

You frantically backpedal and look at Jerry in a panic, but he shakes his head only somewhat apologetically and will barely look you in the eyes as he closes the door, shutting you in with the very person you are trying to escape.

Damn him and Sandy both.

As I looked at my life it was barren and bare Without love I've had nothing at all

You lean your forehead against the door and close your eyes, not wanting to turn around and face him. Instead, you breathe shaking breaths and press your palms into the cool door in order

to not to let the intense waves of anger and sadness that are crashing over you drown you.

You’re not even sure that he knows you are here, his voice ricocheting and echoing throughout the large space. He sounds so consumed by the music that your presence may have gone unnoticed. You aren’t sure if you want him to know you are here or not, but either way, you are swept up into the music with him, your soul clamoring for any part of him despite your mind’s warnings.

Without love I've had nothing Without love I've had nothing at all I have conquered the world All but one thing did I have Without love I've had nothing at all

You don’t want to hear him, not at all (liar), but his melodic voice is hypnotizing, drawing you in with its rich baritone and crying tenor notes and possessed vibrato. And whatever headspace he is currently in has his voice sounding absolutely hauntingly beautiful. It makes you shiver. You are forced to listen, to hear the meaning behind the words.

Once I had a sweetheart who loved only me There was nothing, oh that she would not give, oh no

It's unfair, just how good his voice is at making you listen to it, more than just his words alone, making you hear his soul through the sound. You suppose that is his true talent: being able to pour emotion into a song in such a way that it transcends the music itself. With your eyes shut, it threads through your mind, simultaneously lulling you and making you want to weep. You know you are getting a window into his heart by listening, and it is telling you what you want to hear the most but are terrified to accept.

But I was blind to her goodness and I could not see That a heart without love cannot live

Oh god, oh god, oh god, your inner voice cries because you are suddenly and all at once bombarded with memories. His voice strips you bare, cutting through all the anger and fear and heartache, finally let yourself realize what your subconscious has been trying to tell you for a long time.

Echoes from both the near and distant past trigger inside your mind, your head aching with the residuals of the concussion. First, it’s your own voice, calling back to that moment on the lawn so many years ago, telling Elvis about how you knew Jack was the one: He’s there when I need him. He makes me feel special, like the only girl in the world. I know he’ll always take care of me. He is mine and I am his. Sometimes I almost feel like we were made for each other, ya’ know, like we were meant to be…

Without love I've had nothing Without love I've had nothing at all

Then, Elvis’ words flood your mind, flashing from one moment to the next:

“I just want you to be happy, baby. I wanna make you happy.”

“I take care of what’s mine.”

“You were made for me.”

“You belong here with me.”

“It’s meant to be…”

Your heart slams against your ribcage, making it hard to breathe. It’s like he’s been telling you all along, yet you’ve been too blinded by fear and guilt and the sheer impossibility of it all to truly see.

I have conquered the world All but one thing did I have Without love I've had nothing

 At all

The final phrase is nearly a wail in the most beautiful of ways, the last run falling away and leaving a hollow silence in the room.

The memories come quickly now, a barrage of feelings and images: A boy backstage nervous as hell and his smile as you made him laugh. His eyes searching yours oh-so-closely in a diner booth as you tried to get over Ted. His melancholy the night you got engaged. Dancing, no, clinging onto you at the wedding before his world changed completely, and then again that mournful Christmas he’d returned, when you swore that Elvis wanted you more than anything in the world.

It’s the same way he looked when you climbed into his lap and rode him that fateful, forgotten day at Graceland.

His words from the other day, the ones that felt so possessive and manipulative take on different meaning as the puzzle pieces finally click into place, one by one:

“You are all I’ve been able to concentrate on, ya know that? You’re all I fuckin’ think about. I want you. I want you to be with me. Be with me.”

“Baby, you have me, you’ll always have me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’ll take care of you, no matter what happens.”

“Let me take care of you. Let me be your everything.”

“I thought I told you, honey—I always get what I want, and I think I’ve made it quite fuckin’ clear who I want.”

“I need you.”

You are nearly brought to your knees with overwhelm, breathing too fast as you cling to the wall, anything, to ground you.

Then, like a freight train, it finally hits you, finally clicks, the thing he’s still hiding from you.

You suddenly remember the blanket of Elvis’ warmth surrounding you as you turned cold, bleeding out in his arms. The way his crystalline blues were terrified and beautiful and pleading. He rocked you in his arms, begging you not to leave him.

“No, no, no! Oh, God, don’t—please don’t go…”

Your heart stops. And you finally remember.

“…I-I love you, y/n, please, I love you.”

He’s loved you all along.

All of his cagey behavior, his deceit, the manipulations, it wasn’t to mess with you. It wasn’t because he didn’t care. It was because he loves you.

Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you turn around to face him. And as always, he’s right there, right where you need him.

“I…I…” is all you can manage to eek out.

He grabs your tear-stained cheeks in his big hands, his azure eyes deep and soulful, looking at you imploringly, and he whispers, “I love you. I’m in love with you. I love you more than anything in this life. I think I loved you the moment you steamrolled me in the hallway at school.”

Shock courses through you at hearing the words come out of his mouth, right here, in the present. You let out a choked, tearful laugh. It cuts through the anger you still feel and banishes your heartache, letting a swell of warmth overtake you. Despite all your feelings for him, you hadn’t even let yourself truly hope that he could feel the same way about you that you do about him. And to learn he’d felt this way for so long without your knowing…it feels inconceivable.

“I-I-I…and I’m so sorry, y/n.”

Elvis Presley doesn’t apologize. He buys obscenely lavish gifts. He skirts around the subject and gets really nice with those puppy dog eyes, but he doesn’t apologize, so this in itself floors you.

“I-I-I shoulda told you…but I thought…,” he steels himself against the emotions that are so obviously plaguing him before continuing, “that I’d taken advantage of you when you weren’t yourself, that I’d hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself, y/n. The guilt was eatin’ me alive and goddamn if I was gonna subject you to that pain. And I figured God wanted me to take on that burden for you, that there had to be a reason you didn’t remember. You wouldn’t have to face your betrayal of Jack or your regret for bein’ with me. I thought I was protectin’ you, protectin’ us.” He stops there, voice trembling, eyes open and honest, and you know then that while it had been wrong of him to hide this from you, he had truly believed that he was doing what was best for you. As mad as you are, part of you hurts for him because he’d gone through it all alone.

“I knew I couldn’t give you what you deserved, so I went meddlin’ in your life in the selfish need t’keep ya close to me, t’have some part of you as mine,” he rambles, racing through the words, utterly focused on getting out what he needs to say.

“I just needed you in my life. And I-I-I need you now. I needja more than anythin’,” he keeps going, his voice still shaking and the pads of his thumbs caressing your cheeks before trailing down your neck and your arms. You can feel them shaking, too, a sweaty heat emanating from them as he grabs your hands in his. His eyes are stormy and grey and deep with emotion, pulling you in, forcing you to accept his words.

He takes a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “It w-was wrong of me to-to sabotage what you had with Jack. And then to swoop in when you were vulnerable—it’s unforgivable. And if ya can’t forgive me…well, I-I’m gonna hafta understand. But I-I-I hope you do, that you can. I know I ain’t always a good man, y/n. I try to be, but bein’ with me—well, you already know it ain’t easy, the way my life is…” he trails off.

Part of you wants to interrupt him, to shout your love for him to the heavens, but frankly, his words have you speechless. And you know by his demeanor that he needs to get this out.

Tears pool in his eyes as he struggles to go on. “I know it’s been hard on you, all this. And if you can forgive me, if you wanna be with me, I promise I’ll do better t’make this work for ya. You make me a better man, y/n. You keep me on the ground, and God knows I need that more than anythin’,” he chuckles a little at that before his face drops into something much more serious.

“Come back to me, y/n. Please, come back to me. I love you,” he whispers, eyes imploring you. He is so used to demanding, but this he begs of you.

You are outwardly quiet, though your blood rushes in your ears. You want more than anything to concede to him with these revelations, to fall haplessly into his arms, and any other woman might. Honestly, you would have, just a few days ago, but Elvis cannot erase the harm he caused you with these welcome words or soulful singing or puppy dog eyes. You cannot escape the feelings of betrayal that have permeated through you these past few days.

“Elvis, I…I want to trust you again. I really do,” you finally get out, “because…because I love you, too. I think I have for a long, long time.”

Saying the words aloud lifts a weight from your shoulders, making you feel almost lightheaded.  You were so scared to say them, to reveal this hidden part of you, and the way his face lights up in such a hopeful way, it almost makes you start crying again. He squeezes your hands so hard that it hurts. But you have more to say and can’t let this distract you.

“But my mind it—it made me forget. I don’t know exactly why or how. I think I was so afraid that I could never have you, that there was no way you’d ever in a million years have those kinds of feelings for me…I think I had to protect myself,” you explain.

An inner strength you didn’t know you had until this very moment allows you to keep going. You take a deep breath. “Elvis, I want to forgive you, and I want to be with you, I do. But I am exhausted. I am weary. And I am still angry at you, and at Jack, and at myself. I need a little time to figure out what my world is now, without the oppressiveness of Vegas pushing in on me.”

You look up at him, hoping he understands, hoping he is willing to give you what you so desperately need.

He blinks as if coming out of a trance, surprise and confusion and dismay playing out on his features so quickly. You know he expected something different from you, and as much as you want to give it to him immediately, you know you cannot.

“I need to leave Vegas, E. I need space. I want to forgive you, but I need to heal,” you say firmly, looking into his eyes, holding back the sob that wants to break through. You can only hope that he sees and hears the truth in you. “I can’t start a life with you like this, bruised and broken.”

He shakes his head, small at first and then in outright protest. “No, no, baby, please, I need you here. I love you,” he says with a mixture of frustration and pleading and hurt, grabbing your cheeks again.

Tears pool and fall freely now, but you stay resolute, grabbing his wrists. “No, right now you need to be Elvis Presley and finish this engagement strong. You need to show the world that you are back and to spread that joy of music and performing as only you can.”

“None of that matters, baby. No, I need to be with you. I’ll cancel the rest of the performances,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting you every step of the way.

“The hell you will, Elvis Aron Presley. That’s not what I want, not for me or for you,” you say fervently, pulling away to look at him, bringing your hands to his face this time. “You need this. Seeing you up there…you are more alive now than you’ve been in years. I know how much you love this and your fans—”

“I love you more,” he interrupts, and it both makes your heart soar and breaks it at the same time. You close your eyes briefly to center yourself before looking back at him.

“And I love you. But I need space, and you have to finish this. Once it’s done, once I’ve had time to heal and forgive, then you come back to me, you hear?” you say, unable to keep the emotion from your voice but keeping it resolute all the same.

You watch him struggle. You can see how young he looks all of a sudden and you know he’s afraid you’re abandoning him. You’re afraid, too, but if the two of you have made it this long, you can stand it a while longer. Ultimately, you know if you fall back into him now, you’ll always hold resentment and that will poison you both over time, and you can’t have that.

Elvis closes his eyes and nods once. “Okay,” he whispers, so quietly you can barely hear it. A lone tear streaks down his cheek.

“Okay,” you whisper back.

He kisses you then, so softly, so gently, that you can’t help but lean into it. The chaste kiss is mournful and longing and hopeful all at once. It’s a kiss that is laced with the possibility that it could be the last one. You desperately hope that isn’t true, but only time will tell.

When you both pull away, you can feel the tether between you, the one that has always been there, tighten.

“Will you go to Hillcrest?” he asks, raising his eyes to yours hopefully, but it is more an offer than a question. The house in Beverly Hills is his home away from home.

You consider this and realize, other than going home to your parents (who you don’t quite feel ready to face yet, either), it’s your only option. It’s also a concession that will keep you connected to him, and you are comfortable giving him that. With its gorgeous views and serene setting, it will be a perfect solace.

“Yes,” you respond, and he seems sated by that. “Thank you,” you add quietly, then before you can second guess yourself, you tear yourself gently from his grasp and walk out the door.

Graciously and swiftly, he has Jerry take care of all the arrangements. Sandy is set to join you, and once you are both packed and ready, Jerry takes you to the airport and sees you both off.

Before he leaves, Jerry stops you. “He wanted me to give you this,” he says quietly, then opens your hand and places something soft in it.

Surprised, you look down, and see the familiar pink silk scarf folded there. You haven’t seen it since Jack ripped it from your neck that horrible night. Your fingers close around it. The message is clear: The ball is in your court.

“Send it when you’re ready for him,” Jerry adds with a knowing look.

You nod. You put the scarf in your purse.

Elvis Presley loves me, you think as you sit on the plane, but that feels trite, knowing other women have been able to say the same at some point or another.

Elvis has loved me since we were teenagers. He’s in love with me and has been all this time.

Now that is something that sends a thrill right through you.

You reach into your purse and run the silk between your fingers.

When it’s time, I’ll know.

**

Four Weeks Later

The hot California morning sun beats down on the umbrella that shades you. You had been reading and wanted to get some fresh air, the cold of the air conditioning giving you a bit of a chill in your white sundress but you cannot help but close your eyes drowsily as the heat swallows you like a blanket.

The last month was restorative, to say the least. It had been such a relief to get out of the stifling cacophony of Vegas, and it had allowed your brain to rest and recover from your concussion. Your bruises healed, and Sandy was there to both listen and have a good time when you needed it. You talked and thought through all your memories, working to understand both your reasons and Elvis’ for the way things had gone for your entire relationship.

You hadn’t heard from Elvis, as he was taking your need for space seriously, but Elvis’ lawyer had visited a few times, drawing up divorce papers that surprisingly took you a few days to sign. Not because you didn’t want to, of course, but because you had to fully process all that had happened and what it all meant to you. Sandy sat through your crying and guilt and shame like a champ, supporting you wholeheartedly once you finally picked up the pen and signed away your destructive marriage.

Once the lawyer had called back a week later saying that Jack had signed the papers, you felt like a new woman. Like you could finally start anew. Part of you had expected more of a fight out of Jack, but you did not dwell on the reasons he might have signed so willingly.

Sandy had headed home to Memphis to join Jerry once the Vegas engagement and resulting celebrations were over. You sent the pink scarf with her, with instructions to give it to Elvis only once you called her to do so, once you were finally ready. She’d smirked and rolled her eyes but was happy to do it all the same.

“Whatever I can do to finally get you two idiots on the same page,” she’d said lovingly.

You’d called her last night.

You can’t help but feel nervous. Even though a month was certainly not the longest you two had gone without speaking, this time it felt poignant and heavy in another way entirely. Your thoughts ran away from you at times: What if he’s changed his mind? What if he met someone else in Vegas?

It was possible and even probable that he’d been with other women since you left. You know how he is, and a man like him is not liable to change overnight. But you’ve spent most of your relationship with other people, and he still loved you after all this time, so even if he had been with someone else, you doubted it meant anything at all.

Of course, it still sends a red heat of jealously through you all the same. You push the thought as far away as you can, swinging your legs off the lounge chair, puttering back inside.

The cool air hits you like a wall of ice, and you close the sliding glass door quickly, goosebumps raising on your skin.

“Y/n.”

The familiar drawling baritone freezes you in your tracks. As your eyes adjust to the darkness inside the house, his tall frame becomes apparent across the living room and goosebumps rise over your skin for an entirely different reason than the cool air.

He looks incredible, magnificent even, wearing a silky white button up, the buttons undone at the top to reveal his tan chest, a pair of perfectly tailored black pants flattering him in all the right ways. But most significantly, the pink and black scarf is draped around his neck.

“Elvis,” you whisper, your heart fluttering in your chest.

That tether that you’ve learned has always been subconsciously tying you two together yanks you towards him. Your book drops to the floor and your bare feet run for him before your brain can catch up to you.

He meets you halfway and you throw yourself into his open, waiting arms. Your lips crash together with fervor, thirsty for each other after such a long drought. Soft, sweet, pillowy lips drink you in as your heart races and he pulls you in tighter. His familiar scent and warmth engulf you in such a comforting way that it brings tears to your eyes.

When your kiss finally slows and you both come up for air, you whisper, “You came.”

“Of course, I came.” As if there was ever any doubt.

Elvis pulls you to the couch, cradling you in his lap as he showers you with gentle but intense kisses. The heat between you builds but unlike in Vegas, it is more patient—openly full of love and admiration.

“I missed you,” he says into your mouth, his statuesquely perfect nose nuzzling into yours.

“I missed you, too,” you admit with a smile.

“Good,” he smiles, that lip of his curling up almost shyly.

His lips find your cheek, then placing soft kisses over your nose and eyelids and your forehead, as if committing your bone structure to memory with his mouth. It is unhurried because, for once, you have all the time and privacy in the world. You sigh underneath the reverence of his kisses as they trail down your jaw.

“Baby,” you say, stopping him, “as much as I want to continue this, I have things I need to say before that happens.”

He gives you one last kiss before bringing his attention to you. His gorgeous azure eyes fix in on you in such a way that you feel overwhelmed. It’s amazing to you how, even after all these years, he still has the ability to completely render you speechless with his magnetism and beauty.

“Yes?” he says, steeling himself for what may or may not be coming.

You tear your gaze from him enough to refocus. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I need you to know that I forgive you, for all of it. I forgive you, and more than anything, I love you. I want to be with you, though I know we need to figure out what that looks like. I mean, if that’s what you still want, of course,” you fumble, looking away, not wanting to make assumptions.

“Oh, it’s very much what I want, lil’ mama,” he purrs happily and seductively, using his pointer finger under your chin to turn your head, bringing his lips once more to yours. Fire blooms in your chest and radiates down into your belly as his tongue dips into your mouth. “I love you. I want you to be with me. Always have, baby.”

“I signed the divorce papers, and so did Jack,” you blurt out, needing to make sure he knows and understands.

Elvis chuckles, the low rumbling vibrating under your hand on his chest. “I know, Satnin,” he drawls, his bedroom eyes sharp underneath the haze of lust you see in them.

“Of course, you do,” you laugh, shaking your head, taking the moment to run your fingers through his coiffed dark hair.

He looks at you deeply, firmly but gently grabbing your chin in his hand. “Let me be your everything,” he whispers. It is somehow both a question and a command.

Your stomach drops, but not out of fear this time. No, it is a tingling anticipation that wafts over you and makes your breath catch. You run your finger over his lips, pulling down on that full bottom one.

“Yes,” you nod. You unfurl from his arms and stand, reaching for his hand.

Elvis looks up at you through those long, dark lashes with something between wonder and eagerness. You pull him off the couch wordlessly, his fingers intertwining with yours as you lead him through the house to the master bedroom.

When you finally arrive, you look up at him almost bashfully. “I was wondering if we could try something new?” you ask. You’d been thinking about this for weeks now, all the different ways you want him, but this one thing had stuck in your mind after all you’d been through.

His eyes sparkle almost gleefully with curiosity and lust. “What’re you thinkin’, baby?” he purrs.

You take a deep breath before speaking. You’re not sure if he’ll go for it, but you figure it won’t hurt to ask. “I want to be in charge,” you finally say, matter-of-factly.

His dazed look at your request quickly turns to interest as his brow furrows with consideration. He doesn’t mull long, however, much to your pleasure, before uttering, “Hmm, why not, baby? Let’s try it.” He smiles coyly before bringing you in for a long kiss.

Your heart begins to thump in your chest. You’ve never done this, and you bite your lip, knowing that you have to change your attitude for him to take you seriously. You draw on the strength you’ve gained over these past weeks and take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“On your knees,” you command.

Elvis looks at you with amused surprise at the order. “What?”

“Did I stutter?”

His left eyebrow shoots up so far you think it may try to escape his pretty face and his brilliant blues go wide.

“No, ma’am,” he says, his voice getting breathy and quiet. His eyes don’t leave yours as he slowly sinks, his knees finally touching the floor.

A thrill shoots through you seeing him like this, humbled before you. This man who commands and dominates every room he walks into, brought to his knees for you. You doubt anyone in his adult life has truly had him like this. You relish in the way it makes your heart race in your ribcage.

“Say it again,” you whisper. He seems to know what you mean.

“I love you,” he replies quietly, his eyes open and shining up at you. There is an innocent and boyish quality to them.

With everything that has happened, you have a renewed sense of purpose and confidence which makes you bold.

You lean down and grab his chin in your hand firmly, feeling the light scratch of dark stubble under your fingers.

“Show me,” you command.

He nods furiously in compliance, that look of innocence tempered by sparks of lust in the depths of his oceanic blues. He is more than willing and up for the challenge, and the look sends a shiver of anticipation through you so strong that you can already feel warmth gathering low in your belly. It’s been over a month now since you had him last and each day felt like torture.

Elvis runs his hands up the backs of your calves, caressing your bare legs and resting on the backs of your thighs, his eagerness and yearning evident in his speed. He wants you, too, and he is oh so used to getting what he wants that it gives you pleasure to stop him.

“Uh uh,” you tsk, grabbing his chin again, “you’re gonna take it nice and slow, baby boy, and then maybe, if you’re really good, then you’ll get what you want.” It comes out like a purr, dangerous but alluring, surprising even you. But the look on his face is worth it, the way he nearly crumbles when you call him baby boy, the way his pouty mouth falls open slightly, the way he squirms on his knees, itching to take you but following your lead instead.

“Now, are you gonna be a good boy and do what I tell you?” you coo with an edge of warning. You’ve never in your life have done anything like this before, and you hadn’t planned this, but the control, the power just comes naturally, his responses fueling you forward.

He nods again, unconsciously wetting his plump lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Use your words,” you order.

“Uh-um, y-yeah, yes, I-I-I promise…mama,” he stutters out, picking up your cues and nodding, eyes are wide and becoming more yielding as he begins to submit to you.

Something about the way he does it has that warmth surging in your belly yet again.

“Good,” you say, running your nails up and through his raven locks, scraping his scalp and making his eyes roll back at your touch. You pull back quickly, leaving him a little breathless.

“No hands. Use your mouth,” you order with a smirk.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob with a gulp. “Yes, ma’am,” he replies, faster this time. He’s adapting quickly to your game, and the way he bows down to your feet, kissing the bare skin so softly as he makes his way slowly up your ankle to your calf has a thrill shivering through you. His pillowy lips and the tip of his tongue brush and lick their way up your legs, as he alternates one to the other. The sensation, especially after being deprived of his touch for so long, has you sighing softly, and his eyes roll up to yours, framed deliciously by those impossibly long and dark lashes. The blue of them has darkened with lust, but they remain compliant and eager to please.

That alone has the coil in your belly rapidly tightening, and you feel wetness begin to seep into your panties the closer his mouth comes to the place you want him the most.

Your breathing speeds up with this teasing when he meanders under your dress, peppering kisses along your panty line until his hot breath ghosts over the thin cotton of your panties. It puffs over your clit, and you pull your dress up with one hand to watch. His hands fly up to your ass of their own accord, squeezing and clutching at your panties to bring them down.

Using your other hand, you fist it tightly in his hair, yanking his head back and forcing him to look at you. “What did I say about hands, baby boy? I thought you were gonna be good for mama,” you tsk, shaking your head.

It’s a test. You relish in watching him quell the dominant urges he’s having by biting back a smirk of insolence, his lip sandwiched between his teeth so hard he could break the skin. The fire in his eyes almost dares you until he sees the serious look in your own and you tighten your grip in his hair. He winces a little and you watch him consider his options. You don’t let up during this battle of wills, unyielding and unbreaking of the eye contact that might usually level you.

No, after the last six weeks, this time you are going to get what you want.

Finally, he gets it, letting his arms drop to his sides. His face smooths, that innocence returning, and he submits completely to you.

“Good boy,” you breathe, releasing the grip on his hair and running your thumb over his lush bottom lip. His mouth opens and you push your thumb in, scraping at his teeth, then pushing into the soft warmth of his pink tongue. A low moan escapes him as his eyelashes flutter, and you allow him to suck it in, rolling his tongue over your thumb. A pleasured hum escapes your lips at the sensual sensation, and you feel it tingle straight down into your pussy.

“Try again,” you say, looking down at him, pulling out your thumb. You pull up your dress once more.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers eagerly, and you see the wheels turning for a moment before he continues. This time, he sits on his hands before he kisses directly over your sensitive nub, wetting the fabric with his tongue before kissing upwards. Then, he snaps the elastic between his teeth and slowly but surely pulls your panties down your legs. Your slick is already evident in the fabric, leaving little trails down your thighs. Gravity takes hold once they reach your knees, and they drop to the floor.

“There’s my clever boy,” you praise him, stepping out of your underwear, running your thumb over his high cheekbone. This causes that signature crooked, boyish smile to spread across his features, reminding you just how incredibly beautiful he is.

And he’s all yours.

As he lathes his tongue back up your thighs, cleaning the slick from them on the way back up to your core, your body shudders with delight and you feel him smiling against your skin. Looking down you see it is not a smirk, but genuine pleasure at making you feel good, and that sends warmth through your chest in addition to the heat rapidly building in your core.

You cannot help the moan of pleasure that escapes you when he finally reaches the apex between your legs and flattens his tongue over your folds. He drags it slowly, deliberately, ending with little flicks on your clit. Heat rolls over you, setting every nerve aflame, and this time when you grab his hair, it is to pull him encouragingly closer into your wet curls.

“Yes, good boy, just like that,” you sigh breathlessly as he begins to shower your pussy with attention, going slowly as you requested. He is soft and persistent, swathing gently through your folds, parting your labia with his tongue before rolling back to your clit. Oh, lord, he is so very versed in this, you remember quickly, as he suckles and presses soft kisses to that most sensitive place.

Your eyes fall shut as you grip his head and shoulder for balance. You cannot help the keening and panting that begins to emanate through you as the coil in your pelvis tightens. Even after only a short amount of time together, he somehow knows exactly how to play you for the most pleasure.

In a daze, your eyes open and you look down at him, his dark hair messy from your hands. That’s when you notice it: he is not touching you with his hands, as promised, but you see how he’s somehow undone his trousers without your knowing. You watch silently for a moment as one of his ring clad hands fondles and tugs at his cock, and it sends a thrill of arousal through you to catch a glimpse of him pleasuring himself like this when he doesn’t know you’re watching. Battling the swell of ecstasy that rockets through you, you curiously watch how his hand slides up and down over his length, pulling at the foreskin that mostly envelops his red tip, how his long thumb glides effortlessly over it, swirling the slick of precum around and over and down. It’s a well-practiced motion and it almost seems unconscious considering the way he is utterly focused on your pussy.

You gasp with pleasure as he massages your clit deftly with his tongue, and coupled with watching him jack off, you feel a desperation for more friction, more of him, building until you realize that it is you who is in control of this moment, not him. With a swell of need you push him back abruptly, his eyes bewildered, and lips shining with your arousal, hand still on his cock, wondering what he did wrong.

“Oh, what a naughty little boy you are. I didn’t say you could touch yourself. I didn’t say you could get yourself off, did I?” you say in a chastising tone.

And, oh god, the bashful look he gives you, dropping his cock, and how his cheeks redden at being caught as he looks down, those lashes fanning out, has you biting back a smile and more heat swelling under your dress.

“No, ma’am,” he says mournfully, shaking his head slightly. And then he’s blinking up at you with those deep blues, waiting for what you are going to do next, what his “punishment” might be, you realize.

“I guess I’m gonna need to teach you a lesson then,” you sigh with exasperation. But his disobeying you only serves to make you more aroused. You put your foot on his chest and push him down and backwards with a low growl. It’s like something primal has come over you, not only your need to dominate him, but also this flaming heat consuming your body and needing his mouth on you more definitively.

“Get on your back,” you demand.

Elvis scrambles backwards quickly and you are grateful for his flexibility as he easily untangles his legs from underneath him and falls back onto the thick shag carpeting. You step over him, sliding your dress up and over your head as you do so, leaving you in only your bra. When you look down, you see his blissed-out eyes wandering over your body with something akin to awe.

You lower yourself down to your knees, straddling his chest, which is already heaving from his arousal. He’s wearing the pink silk scarf, the one from your first night together, and it feels fitting, you think, as you lord over him and unravel it from around his neck. He watches you so intently in any other circumstance you might falter under his gaze, but while blown with lust, you can see by that bashful look in his eyes that he is committed to following your lead here.

“Hands above your head, baby boy,” you coo, running your hands up the underside of his arms, guiding them over his head. “Since you can’t seem to keep from doing naughty things with them, I’ll have to make you stop,” you admonish.

You sit fully on his chest then, feeling as the wetness of your cunt stains the front of his lovely silky shirt, and then you lean over, fully aware that it puts your breasts temptingly over his face. You hear him whimper, knowing he can’t touch you, and you smile as you use the black and pink scarf to tie his wrists together above his head.

You intertwine your fingers with his as you slowly pull back over his body, scooting your hips back as you go until your face is hovering just above his. He’s panting now, little puffs of breath coming from his lips as you ghost your own over his face. Tipping his chin up to try and capture a kiss, you pull back a bit.

“Nuh uh, baby boy. You have work to do first,” you shake your head, kissing the tip of his nose. Then you tempt him by flicking the tip of your tongue over the beautifully perfect cupid’s bow of his upper lip, and he fully whines and squirms under you.

You laugh at that, the fact that you are able to put him in this position, to make him want you enough to be vulnerable and needy like this. Then you become more serious, looking him in the eyes.

“Now use that wicked little mouth of yours to make me come,” you say in a low, sultry, daring tone. “And no touching unless I say so!”

“Y-y-yes, ma’am,” Elvis moans as you maneuver your body up and over his head, bracketing it in with your thighs. Your need for him is quite evident as you lower your already-soaking pussy onto his face and as his pouty mouth kisses your most sensitive areas, you know you are so wound already from this little game of yours that you fear you might come undone too soon.

You’ve never done this before and while part of you is a little worried about the mechanics and fears smothering him, that primal, instinctual part of you starts rocking your hips over his mouth.

“Oh!” you gasp quietly, unable and unwilling to contain the soft moans that his lips and tongue begin drawing out of you as you begin to ride his mouth. When he fully groans against you, the vibrations send a shockwave through your core, nearly snapping that coil inside you already. You steady yourself, finding a comfortable rhythm, and experimentally run your hands up your torso, using them to grope your breasts. You feel him moan again and look down to see him carefully watching you, his eyes blown black.

Sensing how it’s driving him wild, you lift your hips a little to give him air and reach down under the lace of your bra, using the pads of your fingers to lightly drag against the sensitive areola, taunting him and pinching your nipples to attention with a moan of your own.

“Fuckkkk,” he breathes out, the air tickling your labia.

“Language!” you hush him and plant back down on his face. His arms fight to come down and grab you, but between being tied and the way your weight is, he cannot, and groans against you again instead. He works you tirelessly now as you writhe over him and you feel that telltale tightening begin in earnest. You are nearly desperate as his tongue lathes against your folds again and again, dipping in and out of your hole, circling your clit and back again. He eats you expertly, willingly, and you ache for him.

“Good boy, there’s my good baby,” you pant quietly as your heart flutters and your breathing starts to hitch.

But when his tongue slips daringly lower, perhaps accidentally, perhaps not, you careen forward with a shocked gasp as it grazes your other hole.

“Elvis!” you gulp, clasping his hands with your own to steady yourself, stilling your hips. You aren’t quite sure how you feel about that slip yet, only knowing that it’s a place that has been forbidden before now. Your heart pounds so hard you hear the blood in your ears, your body on high alert.

“Hmmm?” is his only response before he tests you again, gently, letting his tongue circle that illicit spot lightly.

“Elvissss…” The moan escapes you before you can stop it because the unfamiliar feeling of his tongue there has your already aroused body teeming with the new sensation and you know you shouldn’t like it, you’re not supposed to like it…

“Yes? You like that mama?” he replies surprisingly bashful, submissively, compared to the sensual dominance that you are used to from him.

“I-I-I’m not sure, baby boy,” you finally stammer out honestly.

You feel him nod underneath you, as if understanding, and he goes back to suckle your clit, making you jump a little and roll your hips. And when his tongue travels back through your swollen folds and he goes a little farther to include that little secret spot, you can’t help but cry out in pleasure this time.

He smiles against you, and you respond by rolling harder on his face, effectively shutting him up. The carnality that flows through you banishes your prudishness and you let him kiss and eat you fully now, from hole to clit, letting the sensations consume you completely.

You fuck his face wildly. You don’t try to stop the keening noises crying from your lips, you just grip his hands for dear life as the coil inside you constricts, your body flooded with fire, desperate for the blast of release his talented mouth promises you. Frantic now, chasing that high, your body tenses over him and he groans loudly into your cunt, his tongue deep inside you, as your thighs squeeze his head.

The peak hits you incredibly hard and you cry out as you shatter above him. White stars flash behind your eyes followed by inky blackness. You can barely breathe for the way it hits you. He continues to lick and suck you through your orgasm, coaxing you, moaning into you in order to continue your pleasure for as long as possible. He devours every drop of your arousal. Shaking and shuddering and oversensitive, you finally scoot your hips back, allowing him to come up for air with his own gasp.

“Did I do good, mama?” he puffs, looking pleased, his face covered in your slick.

“You did perfect, baby boy,” you breathe out, kissing his cheeks, then his swollen lips, tasting your tangy sweetness there. Your body shivers with aftershocks as you come back into yourself, your mind concocting all the ways you want him tonight, all the ways in which you can show him your love and vice versa.

You look down at him, enjoying the sight of pussy-drunk lust on his boyish features, the vulnerability of his hands restrained above his head, the way his bedroom blues dreamily follow your gaze and your lead.

Your need for him feels insatiable. You want to wreck him, ruin him, in the best way possible. Biting your lip you roll your hips into his waist, feeling the cold of his belt sear into your bare core and Elvis’ eyes roll back a little as you drag your nails down over the part of his chest that is exposed above his shirt.

“You gonna continue to be good for mama, baby boy?” you lean down to coo in his ear, scootching your hips back just enough to feel the tip of his rock-hard length through his pants, and you can feel the shudder that ripples through him.

He nods furiously. “Y-yes, mama, oh yes, I’ll be good.”

“I’m so glad, baby,” you whisper, “Mama’s got somethin’ special in store for you.”

Elvis whimpers at that, and you can tell it is taking every ounce of self-control he has to keep from taking you right there and then, but he stays good and still and relatively quiet for you. You kiss down the shell of his ear, nibbling on the perfect lobe, and then you focus your attention on the divot just behind it where his jaw meets his skull. Lapping there for a minute, you take your time as he hums and tenses beneath you, turning his head the opposite direction to give you the access you want. You make your way agonizingly slowly down his neck, using your lips and teeth and tongue in all the ways you’ve learned he likes. By the time you reach his collarbone, he is practically writhing under you.

His breath is beginning to heave and become labored when you start down his tanned chest, the course hair there tickling your lips as you go. One by one, you pop the remaining buttons open, and with each, a pretty little huff escapes his pouting lips. Oh, how beautiful he looks with his cheeks all flushed and his hair mussed, those eyes alternating between peering down at you and looking up to the heavens.

Once again you move your hips back, this time hovering just above the erection raging in his pants. It’s enough that he can feel your heat, but you give him no friction whatsoever, and this is what finally has him bucking his hips up desperately, but you are prepared, dodging well out of the way before he finds any sort of relief.

“Now, now, that’s not how good boys behave,” you tsk at him, earning a huff in response. You use your nails to scratch down his now-exposed treasure trail, your lips following close behind and he fully whines by the time you reach the belt line.

“Please, please, mama,” he mewls at you, raising his head to look at you with begging eyes.

“All in good time,” you muse quietly, shooting him a soft smile.

You take your time with his heavy belt and zipper, causing him to spring forth, his cock hard and veiny, precum already oozing a sticky string between his tip and his abdomen, but you leave him there, untouched. Moving lower, you slowly, deftly, remove one shoe, then the other, doing the same with his socks. Then you pull his pants down his long legs, letting your fingers ghost over his sensitive skin. It’s torture, based on the way he squirms and sighs, and you find yourself full of emotions.

A small part of you relishes in making him squirm after finding out what he’d kept from you all these years, for all the time you may have lost with him because of his self-righteous ego. But a much larger part of you wants this with him, for him, because you know he’s likely not given himself to anyone like this. Not the great Elvis Presley, the man who strives for excellence and control in all things. You cannot imagine him letting just any woman bring him to his knees, tying him up, letting her have her way with him. At least you hope not.

But perhaps that is your own ego talking.

But a sense of unease, jealously perhaps, wafts over you, diminishing your confidence slightly.

“Baby boy?” you hum pensively at him, running your finger softly up the sole of his foot, causing him to jump and giggle a little.

“Yes, mama?” he responds softly, tilting his chin down to look at you.

You frown, worrying your lip a little, wanting to approach this skillfully as not to ruin the mood, but you have to know. Now that the thought is there, you must know.

“Have you ever let anyone else do this? Touch and tease you like this?” you ask, trying to keep your voice sultry and light, running your fingers up the underside of his arm, dragging across the pink silk that binds his wrists.

His brow furrows for a moment as he tries to interpret what’s going on underneath the bravado you’re showing, trying to glean your true meaning, and then his face softens and smooths with realization, his eyes wide and open for you. “Not like this, mama. Just for you. Only you,” he says genuinely, and you know it’s true, that he’s not just giving you lip service within the game you are playing.

“Good,” you nod, more moved by this than you want to show right now, your heart swelling with this new knowledge. You kiss him gently and softly on the lips. 

“Do you trust me?” you add more mischievously, your confidence returning.

“Completely,” he nods back.

“Then it’s time to get on the bed, baby boy,” you purr.

He brings his arms down in front of his abdomen, the scarf still taut at his wrists and his shirt open and flowing behind him, and you help him to standing. His eyes sparkle a little with what you think is anticipation. Once to the bed, he snakes his long, beautiful body backwards until he is lying up against the dark pillows.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him lying there, vulnerable and all yours. Getting between his legs, you start at his feet, massaging the ropey muscles with your hands, and alternately kissing your way over the arches, his ankles, and up his calves, up every perfect part of him. You pay attention closely to these spots you’ve never really explored before, listening and watching him carefully. When his breath catches, or he hisses in through his teeth, you know it’s extra sensitive, and of course, when his mouth falls open and his eyes roll back you know you’ve hit the jackpot.

You take your sweet time working up his muscled legs, bringing up and opening his knees to give you more access to what you are finding is the highly sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. Warmth rolls through you when you nip there, very close to his balls and he nearly jumps off the bed.

“Stay still and be good, baby boy,” you purr at him with a sly smile against his leg, and he whines in protest but stills himself. You think it’s high time you give him some well garnered attention to his large, heavy testicles. His musky scent fills your nostrils, setting your biological need for him on fire. You wiggle a little on your knees with anticipation but since you aren’t sure exactly what he likes or what his boundaries are yet, you want to make sure he has an out.

“Baby,” you say seriously, looking into his eyes, “if you really want me to stop, like really, I need you to tell me, okay? Say…” You stop, looking around for inspiration, something he would never say in the heat of the moment, and then your eyes land. Perfect.

“Say ‘pink scarf’ if you really want me to stop baby, okay?” you urge.

Elvis nods, looking excited and also a little concerned at the prospect of what you might do to him to require him to use such a phrase. “Pink scarf, got it,” he breathes.

With that, you feel better, and return your attentions down in between his legs. His cock is hard and buoyant against his pelvis, precum glistening the angry red tip that is peeking out from his lighter foreskin, but that is not what you’re going to focus on, not yet.

Using your thumbs, you apply gentle pressure to the insides of his thighs, massaging slow circles up, up, up, closer to his most sensitive areas. Lying on your stomach between his open legs, you test the waters by running your nails softly over the darkened, wrinkly skin of his ball sac.

He hisses in at that, his lower half tensing as you gently continue, using your thumb, pointer, and middle fingers to explore the area. In his arousal, his balls are pulled up tight to him, but it doesn’t detract from the fact they are still rather large compared to what you’re used to. His breathing becomes more labored as you roll his testes between your fingers, cupping them, then pulling gently.

His hips roll and wiggle. You love the effect you are having on him, the way he responds so readily under your touch, and you wonder if this is what it’s like for him when he plays with you. It sends heat of a different kind rolling through your body each time he jolts or gasps.

Which is exactly what he does when you nuzzle his sac with your nose before flattening your tongue against the seam and licking a long stripe from back to front. His hips rise off the mattress and running your hands over the crease of where his legs meet his torso, you push those famous narrow hips back down to the bed.

“Oh mama, oh mama,” he whispers quietly, almost like a begging prayer, as you continue lathing your tongue back and forth and up and down over his balls. He begins to writhe in earnest, despite your hands holding him, his legs pulling up and boxing you in.

“Be still,” you command, lifting your head, pushing his bent legs back open.

He obeys instantly, looking down at you with wild, shining eyes, nodding almost unconsciously in reply, as if preparing himself for whatever you deem to do next.

You use your hands again, one to push his legs up, tilting him towards you, the other rolling him like dice, before lifting his sac enough to lick the underside completely. Taking inspiration from his playbook, you then flick down over his taint, applying pressure with your tongue, his musky scent consuming you.

He moans long and loud at that, unable to contain himself as you shower this newly found spot with all your attention. As you lick and press and roll, he mewls and begins to shudder. Your heart beats faster against your ribcage at his reactions, how he pants above you, and you wonder what will happen if you press your thumb to that softer spot right above his puckered hole.

So you do. You press that spot over and over and watch him tremble and writhe until he looks damn well possessed.

“Please, oh please, oh GOD!” he cries out and eventually his entire body tenses, hips lifting as though he were coming inside you, and he shudders wildly before falling hard back onto the bed. Heart pounding, you lift your head to see a milky white leak from his tip. It’s not cum in the sense you are used to, but some sort of release nevertheless.

You’re not one hundred percent sure what just happened, but you are pleased you made him feel so good. You watch him lying there, gasping from pleasure, his hands clenching and releasing against their bonds, trying to recover from whatever that was. His face is flushed red, making the blue of his arousal-darkened eyes look almost preternatural, and tears leak, dampening his dark lashes. He looks positively bewildered.

“Good job, baby boy,” you praise him, kissing the inside of his knee.

“Wh-wh-what w-was that, mama?” he gasps, asking.

“That ever happen before?” you respond, curious, instead of answering him.

He shakes his head, his hair flopping as it lolls from side to side.

“Hmm…well, did it feel good, baby?” you ask because you aren’t entirely sure what happened, but you don’t let him know that. You don’t let him know about your own fresh arousal that’s leaking down the sides of your thighs or how your heart is fluttering in your throat at the sight of him such a mess before you. Not yet.

He nods furiously, eyes unfocused.

You smile at the blissed-out look on his face. You crawl up him to give his open lips a little kiss. “Mama’s not done with you yet, baby boy,” you whisper against his lips before pulling back.

His dreamy eyes go wide, but you don’t dwell, instead making haste to kiss down his chest once more, stopping to tongue and scrape his nipples with your teeth, making him jump underneath you once again. You kiss down the flat planes of his belly, detouring to give a little attention to his bound hands, sucking a digit or two into your mouth on the way down.

He fully shivers at that, moaning, sending a thrill of your own down to your toes. His belly is already heaving again with anticipation as you arrive at your next destination. His length bounces as his stomach moves, the milky white having leaked onto his belly, but whatever release he’d had did not affect the hardness of his cock, much to your pleasure.

Your goal here is to worship and tease, rather than the ways you’d had him in your mouth before. The way he’d fucked down into your throat both gently and harshly prior to this was not going to be his experience this time. No, this time is all about giving him a night he’s unlikely to ever forget. It is about claiming him as your own while showering him with love and attention on your terms. You’ve never had that before, not truly, and oh how sweet you are finding it already…

First, all you do is hover over his cock, so closely that he can feel your hot breath against him as you run your open mouth up and down his shaft. He squirms his hips from left to right, his hands fisting, and you can sense how it is taking everything in him not to buck up into you.

“Mamaaaa…need y-you,” he begs.

This makes you smirk coyly.

“Hush, baby,” you admonish him with a furrowed brow, stilling his hips again with your hands. “Be a patient good boy and you’ll get what you need.” Eventually…you think smugly.

He can only manage a whimper in response.

Finally, you place soft, barely there kisses up his shaft, feeling his rapid pulse through the throbbing veins. His foreskin awaits and you kiss gently around it, and it must be very sensitive because he’s fully gasping now, quiet “uh, uh, uhs” escaping his lips. Using only your tongue, you dip it into and under the foreskin, swirling it around the head.

“Oh, oh, no, t-too much, too much, mama!” he half moans-half cries, nearly levitating off the bed, but you don’t stop, instead sucking the tip of him into your mouth and soothing the head with your tongue.

You look up at the man you are in love with, in all his messy ecstasy, as tears stream down the sides of his pretty face, but he does not say the words, only sighing at this little bit of relief you give him. So, you continue, after this moment of reprieve, sending your tongue up and down his shaft, then kissing and tonguing his sensitive tip as though it were a dripping ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

“Please, please, please,” Elvis pants out of that wonderous and full mouth of his. By the time you use your hand to fondle his balls again, he is so fully enraptured, staring up into the mirrors above you, that you’re not sure he’s even on the same plane as you anymore.

God, it has you nearly coming undone yourself to see him like this, bringing him closer and closer to the edge without letting him fall over. You find yourself pressing your thighs together, desperate for your own friction.

His gorgeous eyes flutter down to you as you once again tongue his tip. “B-bein’ good, m-mama, please, needju,” he whimpers, his words slurring together.

“Bein’ so good, baby boy,” you praise him, then you take him fully into your mouth, pumping once, twice, and then you feel his entire body tense and shake.

“F-f-fuuuuckkk,” he groans gutturally, his hips bucking into your throat, coming completely undone nearly instantly. His eyes roll back into his head, beads of sweat mixing with the tears down his face, and the prominent vein in his neck pulses in time with his salty, thick release. It coats your tongue, and you swallow him down readily before gently lathing your tongue over the tip of his sex. He squirms under you, rocked and hypersensitive as you pop off him.

“Thank you, mama,” he whispers, looking so relieved and sex drunk that you are beside yourself now. Every nerve ending inside you is on fire. Before he can soften, you climb onto his lap, lining him up with your entrance and sliding him through your soaking folds and into your heat.

Elvis’ eyes widen in shock and he wiggles his hips down into the mattress as if trying to escape. little “ah ah ah!” puffs come from his lips, like he’s handling a hot potato.

“M-mama, ah, ah! I-I-I can’t,” he shakes his head before slamming it back onto the bed.

“Oh, you can, baby boy, you can, I promise,” you say breathlessly, relishing the feel of him filling you, even though he’s beginning to soften slightly. You roll your hips in his lap. “You’re gonna keep being such a good boy and make me come, right, baby?” you encourage demurely, hooking enough into his ego and his need to please you to keep him going.

All you know is that you need him, need to keep him inside you, to have him fill you up, even if you have to wait.

The noise that comes from him is somewhere between a groan and a growl, his eyes screwing shut for a moment as he tries to compose himself enough to continue. You still, placing your hands on his chest, and wait for his response.

“How about this? You’ve been so good for mama. I’m gonna take this scarf off you and you use those hands to show me some love while we wait,” you say.

That has him opening those glassy, pretty eyes of his and nodding.

“Mama’s gonna keep makin’ you feel real good, don’t you worry now, baby,” you tut at him, untying the knots at his wrists. The silk yields easily. You lean forward on top of his chest and throw it around his neck.

Elvis rolls his wrists a few times then wraps his arms around your back, holding you fast to him while he continues to breathe heavily. The feeling of being draped on him and held in his long arms sends an almost wholesome warmth through your body. Oh, how you missed being close to him like this. It’s almost as if you didn’t know it until this very second, that string that has been pulling you two together for so long finally loosening as you fall unencumbered into each other’s arms.

After a long moment, he calms and his hands start roaming slowly over your back. You can feel the cool of his rings against your fiery skin and it sends shivers through you. You feel starved for him, hence your desperate need to have him inside you and to show him with every fiber of your being that you will be all he ever needs from here on out.

You hum softly, pleased, when his hands find your ass, your hips, and you swivel them. He is soft inside you for the moment, at least, and you feel the sharp intake of breath at your movements, his hands gripping you to keep you still.

Still sensitive, you think.

His hands flutter up and down your sides then, softly enough to make you want more. You can hear his heart pounding in his chest, the rhythm beginning to match yours the longer you stay intertwined. This is what you’ve been missing, needing, all along. Him vulnerable and sated under you. Knowing that you are the only one he truly wants. Knowing that it’s been that way for almost as long as you’ve known him.

“Say it again,” you whisper into his neck, kissing his pulse points.

It only takes him a moment to understand what you are asking.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“Mmmm,” you hum, kissing your way up his strong, angular jaw to his lips. “Again.”

“I love you.” It rumbles in his chest so you can feel it vibrate into yours.

Each time he says it, it dances through you, lighting up all the dark spaces that were so afraid and convinced he would never feel the same.

You kiss his lips, softly at first, then deepening as your own love pours out of you and into him.

His hands are everywhere now, one tangling in your hair, the other snapping the clasp of your bra undone. Your mouths separate just long enough for you to rip off the lace and fling it to the side. The feel of his bare chest against yours makes you feel like you are melting into him. Your mouths are unhurried but intense, tongues exploring, devouring each other whole.

“I love you,” you say into his mouth, voice hushed and reverent.

He pauses for a moment, pulling back just enough for you to get lost in the oceanic depths of his eyes as they gaze at you adoringly, as if memorizing your features. “I’m yours,” he says. Then he pulls you back down to him, his mouth consuming you once more.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, kissing, touching, exploring each other as if it were the first time, but it is long enough that you feel him begin to stiffen inside of you once more, just as you knew he would. Slowly, you begin to rock on top of him, your hands and lips tracing his Apollo-like features. Your fingers rake through his raven hair, damp with sweat from the exertion.

Elvis’ hands cup your face, your neck, tangling through your hair, caressing your breasts. He touches you reverently, though as your passions increase, his hands light streams of fire over your skin wherever they deem to touch. A heated coil tightens again in your belly, more gradually this time, but deep all the same.

The room is quiet, save for the heavy breathing that has synced between the two of you, a hushed feeling that matches the intensity of your lovemaking. His deep gaze threatens to consume you from below as you ride him, and every cell in your body is being called to his.

He fills you in ways no one ever has and as no one ever could. Perhaps he was made just for you, you think, with how perfectly you align. You realize that this is the first time you’ve had him with all your memories intact. Every moment the two of you have had since the beginning now swells between you, a now shared history that makes this moment all the more poignant.

You are lost in the depths of him just as much as he is lost in you. You can see it now, so obviously, and you wonder how you spend so very long without him. Beyond his talent, beyond his gorgeousness, lies that both human yet ethereal man, and he is wonderful and he is flawed, and he is finally yours.

He expertly touches your sensitive bud, sending you careening towards the edge of an abyss that once frightened you. Because of course this was never just about sex, though your brain tried to trick you, making you forget that your love for him started so very long ago. But what terrified you six weeks ago now feels ripe with possibility. What made you feel trapped has now been set free. And as that coil snaps and you fracture above him, it allows your true self to emerge for the first time in a very long time.

“I love you, Elvis,” you breathe, locking eyes with him as you fall, knowing he will be there to catch you.

Your moan of pleasure, his name a whispered prayer on your lips, coupled with the sight of you has him following right behind you, all his years of fear and guilt splintering into pieces along with the most intense orgasm he has ever had.   

“I love you, y/n,” he returns in equal measure.

You collapse into his arms, unaware of the tears on your face until you feel them wetting the pink scarf that somehow remains around his neck. Elvis holds you to him, his fingers twirling the ends of your hair, not just with possessiveness and control, but with unfettered love. There is aways to go between the two of you in your relationship, now that you remember everything that has happened, but you have no doubt that the two of you will figure it all out, together this time.

For the first time in forever, you feel truly at peace.

Finally, you are exactly where you need to be.

With the man you love eternally, who loves you just as much.

Here, with Elvis.

*

Please let me know in the comments/DMs/asks if you are interesting in buying a physical and/or ebook of Pink Scarf (with bonus chapters/material)! 💗🧣💗

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[rowiewritesstuff]

Hehe, here we go. Part 2 with the transformers multiverse where a good month passed (the base is fine and the Decepticons are so confused they don't even plan an attack or anything, they're just.. there and I think STARSCREAM from every damn universe is just hoping to not get a beat from Megan) they still didn't fix the groundbridge situation and William Lennox and Epps have been called in to assist (much to his utter amazement and he’s so done with life at this point and Epps totally fainted) and he meets T.F.P. Reader who is a lil younger than his own and well it just so happens that there is a reader in the Bayverse universe who works with the scientists at Sector 7 and Lennox decided to bring her to help! Sooo... my guy Bayverse O.P. has no clue what to do, can’t take his own damn advice to actually speak to the reader and she is almost the same as T.F.P. just a tad better at keeping her romantic feelings in and more waiting for the guy to speak to her ’cause she is amused. G1 totally made matters worse and T.F.P. Reader mainly helped the Ratchets and her counterpart. They actually start becoming friends and it was albeit awkward at first, but they definitely got comfortable quickly! I could imagine my Animated O.P. just low-key sulking wondering if he’ll get to meet his reader.

Ratchets when they see Bayverse O.P. trying and MISERABLY failing to interact with Bayverse Reader: “I’m too old for this shit.”

Bayverse transformers are just so confused and Jazz is totally loving this, seeing their Prime so... scared, worried, confused and the Bayverse reader could tell that their counterparts are dating and honestly is more curious and happy that they found love at least. Bayverse Reader is a total science and weapons nerd (Lennox and Epps are more worried than anything ’cause they are kind of protective of her) and 100% becomes Bayverse and G1 Ironhide’s pal. I would like to see how O.P. tries to talk to her or if he’ll avoid her in fear of hurting her and how their interactions just end up so nerd-like and a disaster. Bayverse Bumblebee is totally teasing tf outta the Primes at this point.

Bayverse Optimus X Bayverse! Reader TMV Pt. 2

It had been over a month since the huge multiverse events happened. The bots from all of the universes check in on one another every once in a while- even assisting with fighting the occasional decepticon. 

You were brought in by two soldiers who worked with the Autobots- Epps and Lennox. They escorted you from Sector 7 to the Autobot base, ensuring your safe arrival- your presence and knowledge of Cybertronian science often attracting Decepticons. 

When you arrived, you were shocked to see a large group of Ratchets standing around, trying to solve the problem of the odd malfunction of the spacebridges. Even more shocking- there was a double of you there. They didn’t have the same hairstyle or clothing- but they were clearly the same as you.

“Fascinating. I didn’t believe that there were dupes, but now that I’m seeing it, there’s little room to doubt.” You said as you walked around your double. 

“Uh… okay then.” (Y/N) two, as you dubbed them, spoke awkwardly as everyone watched in curiosity. There was a sudden thump, and everyone looked over to see Epps unconscious on the ground. Everyone facepalmed. 

Bayverse Optimus was shocked to see you- he had only met the Primeverse version of you. You were clearly a little older- and your general air exuded confidence. 

(Y/N) Two wasn’t too different- but it was clear that there were key differences. You were surprised to see how Bayverse Optimus gravitated towards your counterpart, almost as if he had feelings for her. You grinned a little but quickly covered it up. 

You became quick friends with (Y/N) Two, and eventually you teased them for Bayverse Optimus’ feelings towards them. They looked shocked and a little off. 

“I’m already dating my Optimus. Are you sure he has feelings for me? He seems really into you.” 

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that your universe’s Optimus did spend more time with you. He would often offer to take you out on drives, or lift heavy objects for you.

As soon as this came to your attention, you decided to tease him subtly. Making a flirty comment here, and a compliment there. You never went to him, though. He always came to you for any interactions. 

The Ratchets all looked on in irritation and stress as they saw Optimus’ failed attempts to flirt back. He was far too flustered, and yet they weren’t surprised by his actions. No matter how strong of a face he puts on, they have known him for millions of years. 

Jazz and Animated Optimus talked about it, trying to keep quiet. Jazz thought it was hilarious, how the boss bot struggled to find the words to woo his crush. 

Animated Optimus, on the other hand, sulked. He wondered if he would ever find a version of you. From the way it looked, there was one of you in every universe- and he had no clue how to find you in his. 

The Ironhides and Wheeljacks absolutely adore this version of you. You’re funny, playfully flirty, and- best of all to them- a weapons expert. You made some weapons (that you got in trouble for later) and went with them to fire them off in the training area. How were you supposed to know apparently all Ratchets carry wrenches? 

You eventually began having feelings for Bayverse Optimus. It was adorable to you how he got when he tried to flirt with you, and even more so when he tried to ask you out and failed miserably because he couldn’t get out of his own head. 

Bayverse Optimus was a little angry with himself because no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t bring himself to ask you out. He had helped Primeverse Optimus get out of his slump- why couldn’t he help himself?

One day, he overheard you talking with his Ratchet and Jazz. “You know, it’s not cool to keep teasin’ him all the time.” Jazz laughed a little. 

“I agree- you’re driving him up the fraggin’ wall. If he asks me for my opinion one more time, I may run out of wrenches.” Ratchet grumbled.

“Hm, maybe I’ll let him take me on a date… Maybe. If he could ever ask me.” 

That night, Optimus got a bundle of flowers. When he handed them to you, he realized he had crushed them by accident in his huge servos. He was swearing at himself in his mind. “I-uh. They weren’t meant to be-”

“I know.” You interrupted him with a teasing smile. 

Bayverse Prime had never felt so much anxiety- not even while fighting his oldest foe. “Will you,” he paused. “Would you… like to go somewhere with me?” 

You raised your eyebrow. “Ah, where would this ‘somewhere’ be?” Your eyes glinted mischievously. 

A swell of confidence filled his spark and he suddenly spoke with his usual confident voice. “You will have to find out.”

There was a hush that fell over the room. Everyone pretended that they were working, when in reality they were listening for your answer. You looked at him, wrapping your arms around the crushed flowers gently as you leaned forward on the desk you were sitting at.

“Well, now I’m curious. I suppose I’ll have to see what you have in store.” You got up and began walking towards the exit. You looked back to see Optimus standing there dumbly. “Are you just gonna stand there…? Unless you changed your mind…” You teased.

Within seconds, Optimus transformed and left the base with you. Everyone was hooting and hollering as the two of you left.

[equestriagirl16]

You reject Neige’s offer to transfer to RSA~🌹

“Please Y/N, you’d fit in so well at RSA!” Neige’s familair voice rang throughout the courtyard you were trotting through after another day of classes. Your friend from across the way once again, despite his best intentions, absolutely insisted that you transferred to RSA here and now. For what you figured to be the 100th time.

“Neige I already told you-”

“I know I know, but you don’t get it Y/N! NRC isn’t a place for someone like you. Your heart and soul are way too pure, you’d have so many friends and a warm welcome waiting for you at RSA. You just have to let me take you there!”

Unbeknownst to you both a few of your said NRC friends may or may not have been purposefully eavesdropping on your conversation ever since they caught wind that the little do-gooder stopped by. Secretly they feared your answer, they knew that they didn’t give you the easiest time here. Perhaps someone as kind as you would find a better place at RSA, and maybe they should try to accept that rather than fight it for your own benefit.

“No Neige! I’ve told you before and I’ll only tell you one more time. Night Raven College is my home! I don’t care how annoying or villainous anyone here may seem, they’re my friends and whether you recognize it or not they love me just as much as I love them. This is where I wound up, and I chose along time ago that this is where I belong. That’s the end of it!”

The dark haired boy was taken aback by your harshness, but stood still in an understanding silence.

“Look, you and everyone at RSA are my friends too but I already have a place right here. That doesn’t mean I can’t visit more of my favorite people in all the Wonderland from time to time though alright?”

“Ok Y/N you win no more pushing, but if you ever change your mind you know who to call.”

“Heh, don’t hold your breathe pretty boy.”

The two of you walked off and continued your random banter all the way to your dorm. How little did you know the impression you left on your friends hiding in plain sight after hearing your answer.

YELLING SCREAMING ROLLING ON THE GROUND KICKING THE AIR SWANGIN THEIR FEET GIGGLING LIKE A SCHOOL GIRL- Hell yeah that’s right!!!! Y/N isn’t going anywhere with that RSA nerd cause 🎶we are family~🎶 *cue celebratory breakdance*🕺🕺🕺. Very excited, very happy, goes and brags about it to everyone who wasn’t there and either revels in the shared joy or tries to rub in that “They stayed because of me obviously.”😎

- ACE & DUECE(they were totally spying on you together), Cater, KALIM, Ruggie, Floyd

Controlled chaos, like just vibrates in place and maybe does one fist bump in the air and a silent “YES” for good measure. Just very happy you want to stay with them by your own volition, they must be doing something right if you consider NRC your home! They would ensure you’ll continue to feel that way, and let the rest of their friends know too so hopefully they can keep up the great work as well. Mission accomplished.😌

- Trey, Jack, Ortho(the lil bestie), AZUL, RIDDLE, EPEL, Silver, Jade, Rook, Malleus, Lilia

*Casually throws aside large rock* Of course, he knew you’d choose them all along(was actually wildly insecure about your decision, and ready to MAIM-). It’s not like he was already mapping out an elaborate plan to send a search party after you and you drag you back to NRC cause he does not know how he’d live and/or function without your very presence hahaha that’s insane(*rapidly presses backspace in the group chat*). Just takes a much needed deep breath and relishes in your choice. If he felt like you still might be inclined to change your mind in the future he’d shape up his act, just a little, and only for you.

- LEONA, Jamil, VIL, JADE & FLOYD, Malleus, Lilia, Rook

WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHABA JSOSOSKAMKSLDOXOSIWGQUIAIAJAJA-oh, you’re staying? THANK THE SEVEN! Was so fucking upset we’re talking sad boi hours, depression mode on, preparing the emo music for the walk home. Had no confidence in the fact that you would deny the offer either because he knew he could do better, or you just DESERVED way better. But the fact that you were so adamant about staying literally just resurrected him from the sever cardiac arrest due to the sudden heart break. Such a drama queen, but only cause he cares about you so much!(maybe a lil too much, do I sniff a crutch?🤨)

IDIA, Sebek, MALLEUS, KALIM, Floyd

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 25 - Part-Time Lover

IN THIS CHAPTER: New routines, chilling at Lover's Lake, and Eddie and Dottie take a Big Step [17.4k]

WARNINGS: self-esteem issues (body shapes and stretch marks, both positive and negative), eddie being a simp for his girl (also maybe the author aka me being a lil gay over women's bodies), suggestive themes, jokes about male masturbation, discussions about past not so great sexual experiences (not explicit, focused on feelings and consent), allusions to sex (fluffy and poetic), NO EXPLICIT SMUT

A/N: dottie's experiences with her ex boyfriend in this chapter are heavily based on my own, please be kind. i'm not trying to infantilise her, i'm just being honest about what being unexperienced was like for some of us when we were teenagers. hope you enjoy it even if you can't relate (and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

We are undercover passion on the run Chasing love up against the sun

Friday, June 20th - 1986

“There! I see them, park here!”

“I have eyes, man, stop hitting me while I’m driving!”

The week following their graduation, the Hellfire Class of ‘86 had been presented with a daunting task: syncing their schedules to make time for each other while officially entering the workforce. After leaving high school, each of them knew that new routines had to be established, and so they quickly discovered that familiarity was key in navigating the strange grown-up world they had been thrown into so nonchalantly. When Eddie’s van parked outside of Giulia’s that first Monday and Jeff and Gareth spilled out from the inside with snacks and vending machine sandwiches like they were spoils of war, Dottie and Donny immediately clocked out and wordlessly agreed to this new tradition that was, in fact, a continuation of everything they held dear while in school - love and companionship in the form of sharing a meal.

A plan guided by convenience had been quickly laid out: Eddie finished his apprenticeship shift at 1 pm, and upon leaving he’d pick Jeff up at the last house in his route as a very in-demand dog walker over in the upper-middle class side of Hawkins. Together, they’d head to Big Buy where they’d wait in the parking lot for Gareth to clock out at 2, and finally, they’d meet up with Donny and Dottie at a small park nearby Giulia’s, always sitting under the very same tree Gareth had frantically been pointing at through the van’s dashboard.

“Alright, nerds, what’s on the menu?” Donny said on that particularly hot Friday as he saw their friends climb out of the van, ready to get out of the heat trapped inside its metallic body.

“We snagged two pizzas today! Donny’s been learning to throw the dough and we got to keep the ones that didn’t fall to the floor,” Dottie said, proudly presenting the boxes resting on their picnic blanket to the boys.

“I’ve got Mountain Dew, Dr. Pepper, and a huge bag of chips,” said Gareth, letting the plastic bag fall from his hand onto the middle of their circle.

“What kind?” asked Jeff, gathering the plastic cups and napkins he’d shoved in his backpack that morning before leaving home.

“Sour cream and onion.”

“Nice.”

“I’ve got grapes, pretzels, and two egg sandwiches from the vending machine,” said Eddie, opening his lunchbox and throwing the bag of green grapes towards Dottie who cooed happily.

“I’ve got apple slices, M&Ms, two PB&Js, and Mrs. Kendall gave me a bunch of jerky as a snack, not really sure why,” Jeff finished the roll call, getting a handful of gas station jerky out of his backpack’s front pocket.

“Do you think I’ll die if I put jerky on top of my pizza?” asked Gareth at large.

“Dunno, but go for it,” Donny encouraged him, filling cups with soda and distributing them around.

Dottie loved having lunch with her friends at the park. On Tuesday, it had rained all morning so they’d instead sought out refuge at one of the booths within Giulia’s, Donny’s family more than happy to play host to the teens while they prepped for the dinner shift. They’d had a pleasant lunch that day, but there was nothing that could compare to the sense of freedom she felt while sitting on their blanket, pooling all their lunches and snacks together and complaining about their new jobs.

After only a few days, it became clear to everyone that Donny was the privileged one within their friend group - his post was inside the kitchen learning all about his Dad’s craft, and he was taking to it with gusto and innate skills he had never known he’d had but seemed to have begun developing in his Home Ec classes. Gareth, on the other end of the scale, was seriously considering asking to be switched to the graveyard shift if he had to play nice to yet another presumptuous customer demanding to see a manager because he wasn’t allowed to accept their expired coupons.

Eddie felt like he was somewhere between the two. He loved getting his hands greasy and figuring out what was wrong with a car, the satisfaction of fixing something and seeing Thatcher’s proud smile was easily the best part of the job. However, he did not enjoy the fact that all the rich idiots in town came in with their expensive cars asking for repairs to be done quicker than it was humanly possible.

Carson Humphrey, Andy Humphrey’s father, had come into the shop on Wednesday for a simple oil change. Thatcher was more than happy to let Eddie take over, confident in his apprentice’s budding skills, but it soon became clear that wasn’t happening - Carson loudly proclaimed he didn’t want “that good for nothing Munson boy” touching his car and breaking something that would certainly cost more than Eddie’s salary to replace. Thatcher had sent a red faced Eddie to the break room, told him to get himself a soda from the vending machine, and did the oil change as fast as he could to get Humphrey Sr. out of his shop and onto his merry way.

“Don’t let that asshole get to you,” Thatcher had said when he found Eddie smoking behind the shop after Carson left. “Thinks he’s all high and mighty ‘cause he has money, well… that ain’t stopping his wife from askin’ for Dougie’s number when she was here last month.”

“No fuckin’ way,” Eddie scoffed, cigarette in his mouth while leaning over to see Doug’s shiny bald head through the window.

“You ain’t heard it from me, boy,” the older man laughed. “But women love a man willing to get his hands dirty. Ask that girl of yours, she’ll tell you.”

Eddie had simply nodded and kept his hair down to hide his ears that were surely becoming more red by the second, quickly dismissing any salacious thoughts as his wristwatch beeped loudly to announce the end of his shift. He distracted himself with yet another smoke and loud headbanging music as he drove down the street - he did not need to hear shit from either Jeff or Gareth as he picked them up, his jeans feeling uncomfortably tight under the Indiana sun.

“You guys will never guess who I saw today,” Gareth said back in the present, a slice of pizza in one hand and a handful of chips in the other.

“Wheeler?” Eddie ventured a guess.

“...You’re an asshole, you knew that?”

“I never said which Wheeler! It could have been Nancy,” he defended himself.

“Why would anyone care if I saw Nancy Wheeler?”

“Can’t believe we’ve got more updates on Henderson than we do on Mike,” Jeff commented, ignoring their bickering.

“I know, right? Did you talk to him?” Dottie asked, splitting an egg sandwich in two and giving the other half to her waiting boyfriend.

“Well, not exactly…,” Gareth grimaced.

The day after graduation, the Hellfire Club got together at the Henderson house to send Dustin on his merry way to Camp Know Where, even if it was at the expense of putting their D&D sessions on hold until he made his triumphant return a couple of weeks later. Still, his friends took it upon themselves to help him pack with no complaints, all while excitedly chattering about the kinds of activities he’d be participating in once he arrived at camp. They also, of course, teased him endlessly about the fact that he was about to be reunited with his “hotter-than-Phoebe-Cates-but-still-a-genius” girlfriend, pestering him to bring back pictures as proof of her existence.

In the midst of good-natured ribbing, the older boys helped him shove his heavy bags into Claudia Henderson’s trunk; the kind woman watched them with a gentle smile on her face, grateful for the little community his son had found himself a part of upon entering high school. While they were hugging Dustin goodbye and wishing him a fun time at camp, Dottie couldn’t help but notice that after interacting with both Mike and Erica, the previously relaxed boy grew strangely serious before pressing slips of paper into their hands.

“Radio in if you need me, okay?” he said, looking at Mike with intense eyes. “I’ll check in at this frequency every morning.”

“Dustin-” Mike began to protest, but he was cut short before he could say more.

“I’m serious,” Dustin turned to Erica. “You can use Cerebro, my Mom will let you in. I can be back in a day tops.”

“You worry too much,” Erica dismissed him, but there was something in her expression that said she was taking his words to heart. “Go to your nerd camp with your nerd girlfriend and we’ll see you in a few weeks. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay, just… y’know.”

“I know. We’ll keep you updated, dumbass.”

“Thanks,” he smiled at her genuinely before moving on like nothing had happened.

If the rest of the boys noticed the weird exchange, no one said anything, and thus Dustin left Hawkins in high spirits, grinning at the sight of his friends waving at him from his front lawn as his Mom’s car got smaller and smaller as it headed down the road.

It was a shame, however, that with Dustin away for a few weeks, Mike chose to essentially become a recluse in his own home instead of hanging out with everyone else. Unlike Erica who was spending all her free time roaming around town with her gang of middle school girl friends trailing behind her, the middle Wheeler sibling hadn’t poked his head out of his basement all week after seeing Dustin off. If, in fact, what Gareth was saying was true, this was the first Mike sighting they’d had since Saturday, and they knew from Dustin’s midweek phone call to Eddie that he hadn’t heard from him either.

Gareth had been counting the coins in his register for the third time that morning when he saw Karen Wheeler, baby Holly, and Mike approach, cart full of groceries. He’d exchanged pleasantries with his friend’s mother as he scanned their items but the younger boy seemed overall uninterested in joining the conversation, quickly pushing the cart (along with his baby sister) away towards their car while leaving behind his mom to pay.

Seeing the older boy weirded out by her son’s behavior, Karen took it upon herself to apologize on his behalf. Apparently Mike had been in a foul mood all week because his friends in California couldn’t make the big trip to Indiana like they had anticipated, and that meant that he wouldn’t see his best friend Will or his girlfriend Jane until further notice. It’s okay, I understand, Gareth had said in a dramatic tone. Young love will do that to you, and Karen had laughed earnestly before bidding him goodbye and following her son to the parking lot.

“You can’t be serious,” Donny deadpanned when Gareth finished retelling the encounter to his friends.

“100% true. He’s pissy because his girlfriend isn’t coming over anymore.”

“That’s bullshit,” Jeff laughed. “He saw her in March, he can’t be that whipped.”

“Right? That’s what I said!”

“I dunno, guys,” Eddie said, pensive. “I’d be pretty upset if I couldn’t see my girl for months.”

“Well, Ed, lucky for you no one is planning to cut your right hand off,” Gareth said sarcastically, and Eddie pushed him over with his foot.

“I’m being serious, jackass. Can’t a guy be a romantic and travel to see his girlfriend often?”

“Any guy? Yes, sure. You, King of the Cynics? Give us a break,” Jeff scoffed.

“You’d really go all the way to Cali every few months just for a girl?” Dottie asked, eyes stuck to her sandwich. Will you actually come visit me in Michigan when I’m gone like you said you would? was what she really wanted to ask. Will you still love me even if we don’t see each other every day? Will I still be your girl when I live in a different state than you?

“Darling, I’d travel to another dimension for my girl,” he replied, voice a little bit too earnest for the casual conversation they were having.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking corny,” Gareth threw his head back as he laid dramatically on the blanket. “You used to be cool, man, what happened to you?”

“I turned 20. Careful, it’ll happen to you too if you don’t watch out.”

The conversation quickly switched to different topics, like new music someone had recently discovered, a cool video game coming out soon, and most importantly, making plans for the upcoming weekend. Jeff was trying to convince everyone to go see a movie on Saturday, cleverly mentioning the air conditioning as a big selling point while they packed up the remnants of their lunch and headed to Eddie’s van.

“Is there even anything good playing right now?” Gareth asked, wishing the inflatable pool gathering dust in his garage didn’t have a hole in it.

“Don’t think so, Aliens isn’t coming out until next month,” Donny said. “Dot wanted to watch Labyrinth but that was next week, I think.”

“Hey, Dot!” Gareth yelled at her; she had stayed behind to fold their huge picnic blanket with Eddie. “When’s Labyrinth coming out?”

“Next Friday! Why?” she yelled back.

“Jeff wants to go to the movies tomorrow!”

“Unless it’s horror, I’m in. They have air conditioning!”

“See? What did I tell you?” Jeff said to Gareth and Donny, grinning. “We should go see Never Too Young to Die.”

“No! Nope, no, nuh-uh, I’m not watching any John Stamos willingly, my Nonna’s obsession with him is enough for me,” Donny groaned.

“She a General Hospital fan?” Gareth snickered.

“Yeah but they sent his character to jail a few years ago so he left the show and she followed him to his new sitcom. It’s shit, don’t watch it.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Jeff affirmed. “But. Gene Simmons is in the movie so I think we should go watch it anyway.”

“Okay, now hold up-”

As soon as the boys disappeared behind the van, Eddie deliberately slowed down his actions so he could steal away a few seconds to talk to Dottie in private without their friends eavesdropping. While pretending like he was still trying to fit the blanket into her backpack, he looked up at Dottie with one eye closed to keep the sun from blinding him, his dimples on display as he beamed at her. She smiled, savoring their first moment alone of the day.

“So I was thinking,” he began, as he casually threw her bag over his shoulder and began slowly walking towards his van.

“Go on.”

“D’you wanna do something different today?”

“Different like what?”

“We could go to the lake,” he said, like he hadn’t been planning on inviting her all day. “We have a blanket already, and it’s a nice day, we could swim a little. Dunno, it’s too hot to be inside. And I think your Dad might be getting suspicious that I’m always around when he comes home.”

“Oh,” Dottie exclaimed, turning shy. “I- I’d love that but I’m not… I didn’t bring my swimsuit so-”

“Whatchu need a swimsuit for?”

Three sets of eyes were staring at them from the rear of the van, having been hidden from their sight in search of a bit of shadow to stand in while they waited for their friends. Jeff looked curious but innocent enough; it was Gareth and Donny that Eddie was suddenly afraid of. They were both looking at them with equally intrigued expressions, but where Donny was encouraging, Gareth was dangerously mischievous.

“Are you guys going to the pool without us?” the curly haired boy asked, staring pointedly at his best friends; Dottie looked like they’d been caught with their hands inside the proverbial cookie jar.

“No, no, definitely not,” Eddie stuttered. “I mean, who wants to go to the pool, right? It’s full of fuckin’ toddlers and their mommies, that’s so lame-”

“We were just talking about going to the lake but we don’t have swimsuits on us so we can’t go,” Dottie said, hoping to put an end to the topic.

“We can go anyways and swim in our undies,” Donny proposed, raising his eyebrows in Eddie’s direction. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Uh, guys, I don’t think Dot’s comfortable with that,” Jeff looked at his friends.

“Yeah, yeah, totally, that’s why we said we weren’t going,” Eddie added, pushing everyone towards the van doors. “Why were you out here?”

“You didn’t give us your keys,” Gareth said, grinning at him.

“We can go.”

“Huh?” Eddie turned around to look at Dottie who was staring at the gravel.

“I, uh… It’s really hot today and we should- I mean, we don’t have to get in but we can- if you guys want to, we could still go. To the lake.”

“Yeah? You wanna go?” he asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled at him, cheeks red from the sun. “Why not?”

“Okay. Okay!” he said. “Everyone get in the van, we’re going to the lake!”

“Oooh, can we stop to buy beer on the way?”

“And more chips!”

Dottie and Eddie looked at each other sheepishly and shrugged before following their friends. Time alone for the lovebirds would have to wait until later, but who could say no to a new adventure presented in such an impromptu but lovely way? Summer had only just begun after all, and no one could see the storm brewing on the horizon yet. Might as well make the most out of their day if the sun was still shining, right?

Eddie had had it all planned out. As he tossed and turned in his bed the previous night, he decided that on Friday he was going to take his girlfriend to their spot at the lake, lay down on their blanket under the trees and kick their shoes off for a while. He had made sure his acoustic guitar was tuned to perfection, and had shoved it into the back of his van to serenade her until the sun went down, the Snoopy thermos bottle Wayne had gotten him for his birthday hidden away in his backpack and full of apple flavored Kool-Aid - her favorite. He was going to romance the shit out of his girl and kiss her until he felt they’d had enough without having to worry for a single second about her Dad coming home from work early and catching them sprawled out on the couch. Or her bed. Or worse, the kitchen counter.

The Hellfire Class of ‘86 was touchy, there was no denying it. None of them really knew what personal space meant, everyone was always on top of each other, and they’d shared enough meals together to still be disgusted about the notion of having to drink from the same cup. Eddie and Dottie were actually not the worst offenders of the group, at least not in public, but by the sheer nature of their secret relationship, the pair were on their toes about just how much physical familiarity they displayed in front of others. This was exactly the reason why during the past week, they’d reserved their soft touches and gentle caresses to when they were tucked away inside Dottie’s home, shielded from any straying eyes and the relentless gossip mill that haunted Hawkins at every step.

On Thursday, however, things had taken a turn. Maybe it had been the climbing heat of the summer, or the natural excitement that having a shared secret filled them with. Maybe it had been the fact that the cute domesticity they had enjoyed while they were still in high school had intensified by virtue of now having the house alone for entire afternoons while James was still at work. Maybe it was Eddie’s work coveralls like Thatcher had implied, lightly stained with grease and tied at his waist, or maybe it was Dottie’s flowy red sundress, his favorite color. The truth was that the waters between them had reached a boiling point, and Eddie had finally snapped and crowded his girlfriend against the counter while she was putting together a snack tray for them to enjoy, uncaring to the clock that ticked on above the kitchen door.

In an uncharacteristic move, Dottie had let herself take what she needed from her boyfriend, and in turn, he had let her explore this new side of their relationship in earnest. He’d helped her climb onto the counter where she sat prettily, lips attached to lips and hands roaming with the eagerness of an explorer. She’d kissed him before, but never like this. Never with this much urgency, like she couldn’t bear the thought of not kissing him. Mouths roamed to necks, fronts pressed against fronts, and Eddie ventured a burning hand under her skirt, tracing up, up, up on the outside of her left thigh when the sound of a car door being closed with force made them jump apart.

They’d looked at the entrance door with apprehension for a few seconds before they heard the neighbor’s dog barking loudly, clearly welcoming his owner who was unlatching his noisy sidegate and trying to control his furry friend before anyone in the neighborhood complained. Eddie and Dottie stared at each other for a few seconds, hearts racing and breathing ragged before he broke into a fit of nervous giggles. She’d tucked her head down and smiled shyly, getting off the counter and going back to the task she’d been working on before she’d let her innermost thoughts guide her actions.

Eddie had fooled around with people before, but this, he felt, was different. This wasn’t a one-and-done deal, some fun in the back of his van that he could feel good about while ignoring the fact that no one had really asked him for his name or his number before he saw them leave. No, this was different because Dottie was different. She was his girlfriend, not a random stranger at The Hideout, and yet Eddie couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the way she pretended nothing had happened for the rest of the day. There was no more flirty banter, no cheeky hands on knees, no sneaky kisses after her Dad walked into the house 15 minutes later. Eddie didn’t claim to be an expert in relationships, but he figured then he had to follow her lead.

If Dottie wanted to wait, he’d wait for as long as she wanted, and so he was going to take her to the lake and sing for her until his throat hurt. Nothing more, nothing less. For her, Eddie Munson could and would be the perfect boyfriend. That is, if their friends could stop getting in his way.

“Sweet, the dock is still here!” Gareth exclaimed, looking out of the window.

“Park over there, man,” Donny instructed from the co-pilot seat. “Sun’s gonna move soon, we’ll get more shadow under that tree.”

Quickly, all five teens jumped off the van before it came to a halt, desperate to feel the breeze on their skin. The afternoon heat had given way to an oppressive humidity that could be felt under every piece of clothing they were wearing, and no one wanted to sit on Eddie’s itchy fabric and leather seats for any longer than they absolutely had to. They spread their blanket near the van, sneakers piled up on every corner so the wind couldn’t steal it away while they were cooling off in the lake, a plastic milk crate in the middle serving as an impromptu table.

“Who the fuck bought Bud Light?” Jeff asked, hauling the cold case of beer cans out of the back of the van.

“It was the cheapest one they had,” Eddie said.

“No way PBR isn’t cheaper,” Gareth said.

“Yeah, but PBR tastes like corn,” Donny laughed, dropping two new bags of chips onto the blanket.

“Ed, what’s in here?” Dottie’s soft voice rang through the clearing.

She was holding his backpack on one hand, the heavy Snoopy thermos on the other. Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he hoisted his guitar higher on his shoulder, desperately trying to act nonchalant so the rest of the boys wouldn’t pick up on his now ruined plan.

“That’d be apple Kool-Aid,” he admitted, a shy smile gracing his face. “Forgot to tell you I had some earlier, sorry.”

“Ew,” Gareth scrunched his face. “That’s, like, the worst kind of Kool-Aid.”

“Hey, watch it,” Eddie said, pushing him off balance lightly. “That’s her favorite.”

“Your favorite Kool-Aid flavor is apple?” the younger boy turned to her. “That’s so gross, it tastes like piss.”

“Damn, G, whose piss have you been drinking to know that?” she retorted, making their friends snort.

“Okay, enough chit-chat! I’m overheating here, let’s get in the water,” Donny said, bending down to take his socks off.

“Last in buys the popcorn tomorrow!” Gareth yelled, pulling his shirt off and letting his shorts fall to the ground before running towards the wooden dock in his briefs.

Donny and Eddie looked at each other, shrugged once, and hurried to get their clothes off as well, both of them immediately cannonballing into the cold water. Dottie watched them shove each other under the surface, loud screaming and laughter echoing within the confines of their little hidden place in the woods. She hadn’t missed the meaning of the bottle in her hand - Eddie had thought of her that morning before he left for work. He’d packed it for her, along with the guitar resting on the checkered fabric on the grass. Her eyes searched for her boyfriend, his wild hair flattened with the weight of the droplets clinging to his curls. To her side, blue and white fabric rustled, startling her out of her thoughts.

“Are you getting in?” Jeff asked when she turned to look at him.

“Uh, I- I’m not sure,” Dottie admitted. “You?”

“Y-yeah. Same.”

She examined him with gentle eyes, noticing the beads of sweat gathering at his hairline. It was clear he was feeling hot, his thick jeans sticking to the skin of his legs, the fabric around his collar getting darker with perspiration. She felt the heat too, but she had had the foresight of wearing shorts and a cotton tank top that day; his three-quarter sleeved Black Sabbath shirt didn’t look like it allowed much air to reach his feverish skin under it.

Donny and Gareth have older sisters, she realized all of a sudden as Jeff looked forlornly at their friends. It was probably normal for siblings to see each other in various states of undress as they grew up, especially if they shared bedrooms or bathrooms. Donny had been Vittoria and Isabella’s baby doll before little Giulietta had been born, and while the age difference between Gareth and Gretchen was smaller than Donny’s and his older sisters’, the fact that their bedrooms were connected through a Jack-and-Jill meant that they’d seen each other in their underwear more often than either of them could count by the time they’d both entered elementary school.

Jeff only had an older brother, and he probably felt a bit shy taking his clothes in front of Dottie. If she was being honest with herself, had she not been worried about being semi-naked in front of Eddie for the first time ever, she would most likely have had the same concerns as him.

“You can go in with them if you want to,” she said, motioning towards the lake with her head and trying to be encouraging. “I don’t mind you guys being in your undies around me if that’s what’s stopping you.”

“No, it’s- it’s fine, I’m not hot,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Jeff, you’re sweating buckets. I can turn around until you’re in the water if that makes you feel better.”

“No, it’s- it’s not you,” he sighed, apprehension on his face. “It’s everyone, I guess? I- I’m not used to, like, showing my legs to people. It makes me feel weird.”

“Oh,” Dottie said, not really understanding the issue but still aiming to be supportive. “Are you like super hairy or something? Because Donny could knit a blanket with his leg hair and no one cares, I promise no one’s gonna make fun of you.”

“No, no, I’m not hairy,” he snorted. “I mean I have some hair, I’m a guy, but no, he’s definitely the hairiest out of all of us.”

“Dunno, man, you haven’t seen me in winter when I don’t shave,” she joked, and he smiled at her gratefully for making their conversation feel lighter.

“It’s not hair I’m worried about,” Jeff said, turning towards her and lowering his voice. “Swear you won’t laugh?”

“It’s just me, Jeff,” she put her hands in her back pockets and shrugged. “When have I ever laughed at you about anything?”

Jeff hadn’t known what to expect when Dottie first joined Hellfire. They’d had a couple of female members in the club as the years had gone by, but none of them were quite like her and he didn’t know what to make of it at that time. Dottie, for starters, did not look like she was into heavy metal or nerdy stuff, dressing like any other girl he could have seen on the street, complete with trendy pastels and dainty florals. She had, however, been incredibly kind and not judgemental, eager to learn how to play D&D and taking it way more seriously than he’d thought she would on their first session, and that - along with the snacks she’d brought with her that day - had helped make him less wary of her intentions.

It certainly surprised him when all three of his best friends immediately struck a friendship with her, particularly Gareth who had a reputation of not knowing how to talk to girls in the first place. Still, in just a few short weeks, Dottie’d become a permanent fixture within their friend group and Jeff had no reasons to contradict them when the girl who sat next to him during World History lessons often smiled at him like a timid puppy asking for her new owner to play with her. If she was willing to put in the work to call him a friend, he would oblige and do the same, and that was exactly what he had done all those months ago.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, nodding a couple of times while he gathered courage. “It’s just- I, uh, I have a lot of marks on my legs. And I don’t like when people stare at them. It feels like they’re judging me.”

“Marks like scars or…?”

“Like stretch marks. I have them on the backs of my knees and on my hips. They’re… they’re kinda a lot. My Mom used to rub this oil on me to make them smaller but I don’t think it did anything to be honest.”

“I get it,” Dottie smiled. “I have them too, y’know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I have them on my butt and my hips. Here, look-” she moved her leg to the side and pulled the cuff of her jean shorts higher, letting him see the web of silvery scars climbing on the side of her leg.

“Wow.”

“I used to hate undressing in the locker room because none of my friends had them and I thought they were ugly, and then my Auntie Rachel said I should think of them like a badge of honor. Like you survived puberty and now you have all these battle scars to show for it, right?” she said, and Jeff snorted. “I know. It sounds so stupid, but it did make me feel better about them so… Dunno. It hurt like hell to get them so maybe she’s got a point.”

“God, yes. Some nights it felt like someone was trying to shatter my fucking kneecaps from the inside,” he laughed, happy to commiserate with a friend.

“Dude, I was terrified! No one told me growth spurts felt like being tied to those goddamn medieval beds that stretch your limbs until they snap, I thought I was dying,” she said. “It was the worst, honestly. I’m happy I stayed kinda short because that shit was painful.”

“Do all of yours look white?” Jeff asked, curious.

“Now they do but they used to look pink and a bit swollen, like when a cat scratches you on the leg, y’know? But they turned white after a while, so I guess that means they’ve healed. Yours don’t look like that?”

“Not really, no. I could show you if you want.”

Dottie was aware that Jeff was trusting her with something very important with his offering. Not wanting to spook him off while he was being so vulnerable with her, she nodded eagerly and waited for him to push his jeans down until they touched the soft grass under his feet. He bent down to grab them and fold them carefully while she looked at his legs with an interested expression, but not a malicious one.

“I actually didn’t know stretch marks could look like that,” she said, embarrassed.

“I didn’t know either until I got them,” he said, hands twitching nervously at his sides. “It’s probably because my skin is darker than yours.”

Jeff stood in that clearing in the blue checkered boxers his Mom had bought for him, and felt the breeze calm his heated skin. The backs of his knees were damp with sweat, and Dottie could see them painted with both cream and very dark brown scars at the point where his calf joined the back of his thigh. The intricate webbing stopped after a few inches, and then resumed at his hips, hidden by the breathable fabric, but traces of it could be seen near the elastic at the top. Jeff’s lower body had stretched and stretched, making him as tall as his brother and as slender as his mother, and the signs were displayed for the world to see for what was probably the first time since he’d gotten them.

Wordlessly, Dottie’s hands went to the top of her shorts and undid her belt, zipper falling open afterwards as her legs kicked the jean fabric aside. Jeff’s eyes roamed the patches of skin she’d mentioned before, observing silvery threads in similar patterns to his own as they climbed the sides of her upper thighs, her high-cut cotton panties not helping to conceal them unlike his choice of underwear. They smiled at each other and it was suddenly very clear to both of them that there was nothing to fear here; there was not an ounce of shame or embarrassment to behold in that clearing.

“So… do you wanna get in now?” Jeff asked, pulling bravery out of thin air.

“I… Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it if you do it,” she grinned at him, conspiratorially.

“Okay, let’s- let’s just go for it!”

With the sort of giddiness that comes from overcoming a personal hurdle, the two teens finished undressing and walked side by side to the little dock where they sat down until they both felt comfortable enough in their own skin to jump into the water together. Jeff hadn’t known what to expect when he’d first met Dottie, but he was infinitely glad he took the chance to get to know her, thankful that his friends had had much better foresight about her than he did upon their first encounter.

Eddie wanted to drown himself. Was that a dramatic reaction to the situation at hand? Most likely, yes, but he’d never been known to be a level-headed guy in the first place so he couldn’t really be blamed for it. Not only had his plans to share a romantic afternoon with his girl been thwarted by their friends poking their noses where they didn’t belong, but also the first time Eddie was seeing Dottie in her underwear was at the same time everyone was seeing her in her underwear, and quite frankly, he didn’t care for it one bit.

It wasn’t that Eddie was jealous - that ship had sailed a long time ago and sunk to the bottom of the ocean more and more every time she told him she loved him - but he did feel like he had been cheated out of a very important First in their relationship. He’d imagined the moment very differently, and he was very much upset that he could only allow himself glimpses of her so as not to seem like a creep while she sat on the dock with Jeff, their calves shoved into the water as they chatted amicably. Still, while his friends were distracted, he felt like he could allow himself a few moments to take in the little things that he could observe about her and catalog them in his own brain under the Think About Later, Preferably While I’m Alone And In The Shower label.

If the magazines hidden underneath his bed were supposed to capture the hottest people on Earth, then Dottie was, in his eyes, a goddess living amongst common folk. Upon seeing her lounging by the water, he was reminded of that one time in Art class when their teacher had given them a presentation about statues in Ancient Greece - something about why so many of them didn’t have arms, and how beauty standards had changed throughout the years. Eddie hadn’t really cared for it at the time, but staring at the soft pudge protruding from her stomach and the thick thighs that molded themselves to the wood under them, he felt like if he were to carve Aphrodite herself in stone, she would have looked like one Dorothy Burke.

Every single detail about her was overwhelming to him. The myriad of moles that littered her body, the way the hairs on her arms stood to attention when she pulled her legs out of the cold water and the breeze hit them just right, the liquid silver that marred the skin on her hips. Her toes painted bright pink, her cute chuckles at whatever Jeff was saying, her hair moving in the wind as she stood at the dock gathering courage to jump in, the unassuming set of matching bra and panties she’d chosen to wear that day: cotton, little soft pink flowers dotting the fabric and two tiny non-functional baby pink bows, one sewn between her breasts and one underneath her belly button. He felt like a pervert ogling her and a worshiper at her altar at the same time, and he had to stop looking at her and chill the fuck out before anyone noticed that he would have gone to war, written poetry, and gladly died for her if she asked him to do so right that second.

“Eddie!” Gareth called, startling him out of his thoughts. Jeff and Dottie had already jumped into the lake and joined the fun. “You in for chicken? Dot’s gonna be the referee.”

“Hell yeah, man! Same teams as usual?” Eddie replied, doing what he did best when caught daydreaming: pretend he hadn’t been daydreaming.

“You’re going down, bitch!” Donny yelled before lowering himself underwater so Gareth could climb on his shoulders.

“Hey Ed, do you mind if I go on top this time?” Jeff asked, surprising Eddie.

A long time ago, the eldest Vitale sister, Isabella, had heard the boys gossip about Jeff and didn’t like what she’d eavesdropped on one bit. They’d been sitting in the living room at Donny’s house, putting away the pieces of the board game they had been playing on a rainy afternoon when the topic of Jeff and his pants had come up. The boy hadn’t been present for the conversation; his Mom had picked him up a few minutes earlier, and so his friends had felt like it was safe to speculate on why he was so hellbent on not wearing the mandatory shorts everyone else wore during gym class. Isabella heard them mention his newly acquired stretch marks and dismiss it as the issue at hand rather quickly, moving on to juicier theories like secret tattoos or acne in weird places. She’d shut them down in an instant.

From that day on and thanks to a long stream of yelling coming from Isabella, the boys understood that Jeff was sensitive about showing his bare legs to the world, and that if they really considered him a friend, they’d stop making a note of it every time he chose joggers over shorts and covered himself with a big towel after getting out of the pool. So in that moment, while Jeff seemed to not care that his scars were on display for everyone to scrutinize, Eddie resolved to immediately shove his head underwater and help him onto his shoulders, happy to prove to him that he’d been wrong all along when hiding himself around their friend group.

The little corner of Lover’s Lake that the Hellfire teens had chosen as their spot for the afternoon had never seen a battle the likes of The Great Chicken Fight of ‘86. Both teams fought fiercely, sometimes winning, sometimes choking on a bit of lake water, but after several rounds Donny and Eddie asked for a break to let their shoulders rest, and Team Donny and Gareth was officially crowned as the champion for the day.

At around five, every cloud in the sky was officially gone and the temperature had started to drop so everyone agreed it was time to get out of the lake and enjoy the sun before it went down behind the trees. Eddie offered Donny and Gareth to share a joint as their prize, and they gladly accepted it, all three of them grabbing a couple of beers each and sitting on the dock to smoke and get pleasantly buzzed. Not interested in partaking, Jeff and Dottie chose to go back to the blanket near the van where they sat down and drank their beers while he plucked some tunes out of his friend’s acoustic guitar.

“That sounds gorgeous,” Dottie told him sincerely, lying on her front on the blanket, head resting on her crossed arms and legs swinging behind her.

“My Mom loves this song,” Jeff said, playing the intro of Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers once more.

“I’ve never heard of it before,” she admitted. “Can you sing it for me?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he smiled, always happy to spread his love of music around.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, Jeff crooned, his tone raspier than usual and carrying over to where the guys were sitting at the dock. It’s not warm when she’s away, ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, and she’s always gone too long, anytime she goes away. Dottie stared at her friend in awe of his raw gift. All the Corroded Coffin members were talented, she knew that very well, but Jeff had always been the most shy in demonstrating it outside of Gareth’s garage and the relative anonymity of The Hideout, perhaps due to his father’s silent disapproval of his son’s artistic inclination.

And I know, I know, I know, I know… After observing countless practices and a couple of their weekly gigs, Dottie was fairly confident that while Eddie was the most talented guitar player out of the two, Jeff had the best voice in the band by far. As he sang about longing for someone who leaves often, she couldn’t help but think of themselves, about how summer was ticking by fast and one day, they’d all have to say goodbye to each other for a while like they had done with Dustin the previous weekend. And this house just ain’t no home, anytime she goes away.

“That was… wow,” she shook her head in disbelief once he had finished his rendition. “Bill Withers you said?”

“Mhm. He’s from West Virginia, you know? My Granddad is always talking about him,” Jeff said, going back to playing basic chord progressions while he explained.

“Maybe you’ll get to meet him while you’re there.”

“I doubt it, he’s probably like a gazillionaire by now. He totally lives in LA.”

“Never too late to ask for a transfer,” she joked, and he scoffed like he was offended at the suggestion.

“This sucks, man,” he sighed, putting the guitar aside and dropping onto the blanket next to her, elbows bumping. “All this time I’ve been looking for any excuses to leave this shithole and now that I have them, I don’t wanna go.”

“It’s just four years. We’ll blink and be back here before we know it. And there’s the holidays too, we have to come see family and stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess. Unless we get real jobs and then we won’t be able to come back.”

“Yeah, maybe. Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered.

“Of course.”

“I’m super scared that when we leave you guys will forget about me,” she said, turning around to lay on her back. “Like I’m gonna come back to Hawkins for Christmas break and it’ll be like I never existed.”

“You’re insane,” Jeff shook his head. “There’s no way we’d forget about you. Especially Eddie.”

“W-what do you mean?” Dottie said, hand draped over her eyes to hide her expression.

“Okay, so I know I’m not like an expert on this,” he began. “-but I think Eddie really likes you. As in, more than friends.”

“Oh,” she replied, trying very hard not to laugh. “That’s… I don’t know what to say. You really think so?”

“I’ve never seen him act like this before. It’s like someone brainwashed him, but in a good way? Dunno. He seems happier when you’re around. I think we all are, actually.”

“Aw, Jeffie,” she cooed, sitting up and pulling him into a one-armed hug, ignoring the fact that none of them had bothered to put their clothes back on after getting out of the water. “I’m really happy with you guys too, senior year would have completely sucked if I hadn’t met you. I think that’s what scares me the most, because I told you about my friends in New York and how they used to forget about me during summer and I just- I don’t want things to change, y’know? I’m happy like this!”

“Nothing’s going to change, Dot,” he said, sitting up too. “Well, I mean, everything is going to change when we go off to college, but that doesn’t mean we have to change. We’ll all still be friends… and maybe you and Eddie can be more than friends,” she shoved him and he laughed. “But we’ll keep in touch. We’ll send postcards, and letters, and we can call each other, you’ll see.”

“Promise me,” Dottie said, lifting her pinky finger. “Promise me we’ll still be best friends even when I’m in Michigan and you’re in West Virginia.”

“The better Virginia,” he said dramatically, linking his pinky with hers.

“The best Virginia, but only when you’re in it.”

“Why are you buttering me up so much? What terrible song do you want me to play next?” he narrowed his eyes, but they both knew he would always gladly play anything his friends asked for.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

Jeff picked up the guitar again before she could finish her sentence and launched into a sped up version of Back in the U.S.S.R by The Beatles, making Dottie dissolve into giggles as he faked a terrible British accent. Eddie watched from the dock, his bare back resting on old wood while Gareth and Donny talked next to him. He couldn’t even be mad at the fact that Jeff was fulfilling his fantasy; he was enjoying the tunes too and the view of his girlfriend lounging on the grass in her undies was enough to keep him content for the moment.

“Might wanna be less obvious with the staring, bud,” Donny said, bringing him back to the present instead of fixating on how she pushed her bra strap back onto her shoulder when it moved out of place.

“Fuck off,” Eddie scoffed. “I wasn’t staring. I was zoning out.”

“Sure you were,” Gareth said, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Donny. “That why you planned this cute little date? So you could zone out?”

“Cute little date? You mean the chill hangout you were both invited to?” Eddie said.

“You brought the dragon slayer guitar, man. This was not a casual hangout and you know it.”

“It was already in my van, I didn’t do shit.”

“Yeah, right. What about the Kool-Aid then? Her favorite flavor? Come on, Ed, we know you’re into her,” Donny said plainly. “Why are you so scared of asking her out?”

“I’m not!”

“Then why haven’t you already?!”

“I have!” he said, exasperation making him slip up.

“You have?!” Both Gareth and Donny stared at him, confused.

“I- I mean… No, I- I was gonna ask her today. And then you assholes ruined it,” Eddie deflected, making them feel bad about it to cover up his mistake. “I love you both, but you’re nosy as hell. I’m not telling you shit about anything anymore.”

“Okay, that’s so fuckin’ rude,” Gareth said, exaggerating being upset for drama. “We’re rooting for you two, jackass, you don’t gotta treat us like the enemy. We can help you if you want!”

“Nope, I don’t need any help, thank you. I’m doing pretty okay without you.”

“Really? Because from where we’re sitting, Jeff is the one having the date you planned with your girl. You might wanna hurry up and make your move before he swoops in.”

“First, don’t use Jeff of all people to try and make me jealous. That’s lame and you know that, we’re all friends here,” Eddie scolded Gareth, making him raise his hands to concede. “Second, I have nothing to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

Eddie was about to answer when a damp haired Dottie approached them, Eddie’s black sleeveless shirt that he had cut himself hanging from her fingers. She stopped right in front of them, beaming down at her boyfriend with cheeks tainted red from the sun.

“What’s up, princess?” he smirked, knowing that his friends were watching the interaction curiously.

“Can I pretty-please borrow your shirt for a bit? I’m cold but I don’t wanna put my shorts on, I don’t wanna get them wet,” she pouted at him, as if she thought he’d ever say no to her.

“Yeah, of course. There’s a flannel somewhere in the back of the van if you want that one.”

“No, this one’s okay!” Dottie said, lifting the shirt and putting her head through it. “Thank you!”

She hopped away and back towards Jeff while she pulled her arms through the big holes at the sides, the black fabric falling down her back until it covered the delicate flower pattern on her panties. Eddie took a sip of his beer can and turned to look at the boys; Donny was holding in a chuckle and Gareth was staring at him in disbelief.

“You were asking?” Eddie said, smug.

“I… Shut the fuck up,” Gareth shook his head.

“You two are gonna be so gross when you actually start dating,” Donny said, thoroughly entertained.

“Maybe. Or maybe we’re already dating and we just haven’t told you,” Eddie said, mysteriously.

“Yeah, right. You’re like the most transparent person on Earth, Ed,” Gareth said.

“And she’s the worst liar ever,” Donny added, making Eddie snort.

What they don’t know can’t hurt them, Eddie thought as they switched topics and he took another glance at his girlfriend in the distance. She was looking right back at him with a smitten smile on her face, so he winked at her once, watching how she turned bashful and looked away from him. He wasn’t trying to be mean to their friends but when he had said sneaking around could be fun, he didn’t know how absolutely right he would be, and Eddie was determined to make the most of it before they had to come clean when summer drew to a close.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Are you asking me out? Should I be worried about the guys tagging along again?”

“Ha, ha, you’re so funny. Answer the question.”

Eddie and Dottie were waiting for a red light to change back to green on the way to her home after having dropped everyone else off. When the sun started to disappear behind the treeline, the Hellfire Class of ‘86 very reluctantly decided it was time to return to society where wearing clothes was expected of them. Eddie had mourned in silence the fact that Dottie wasn’t wearing his shirt anymore, but considering it had been warm when she gave it back to him, he felt like a small mercy had been afforded to him in his time of suffering. The temperature was falling fast as the daylight said goodbye to Hawkins for the night, making Dottie burrow further into the co-pilot seat as she turned to the side to look at the metalhead.

“Well, I was thinking I really need a shower before I do anything else because I am covered in lake water and I feel sticky and gross. And- I don’t know, maybe watch a movie before bed? You? Got any plans?”

“Not yet,” Eddie said, changing gears before he let his hand find hers, interlacing their fingers. “Was kinda hoping you could help me out with that.”

“Oh, so you are asking me out,” Dottie smiled.

“Well, since our super romantic date turned into you having to see all our hairy asses, I thought it’d be nice to make it up to you,” he shot her a quick smile before turning his eyes back onto the road. “Wanna pick up a pizza and have dinner with me and Wayne? We can get a movie too, and you can stay over if you want. He won’t mind.”

“I don’t know, Ed,” she sighed, her thumb drawing patterns on the back of his hand. “I want to, I really do, but staying the night is… Don’t know if I can get away with that.”

“Don’t wanna keep lying to your Dad, huh?”

“No, well… I don’t actually mind the lying. He’d kinda freak out if he knew, I think. And he’d sit me down to have the most awkward talk in the world and like, I’m sorry, I know he’d mean well but he’s late on that by like four years. Mrs. Maybelle beat him to it and she did a damn good job.”

“Health teacher?”

“Mhm. She was so cool. I think she single-handedly lowered the teen pregnancy statistics in my school.”

“Wow. Go Mrs. Maybelle,” he chuckled. “It’s okay though, we’ll see each other tomorrow. Or you can still come over only for dinner, I know Wayne misses you.”

“He does?” she bit her lip as she smiled, warmth spreading inside her chest.

“Pfft, are you kidding? He likes you more than he likes me. Asks me about you all the time,” Eddie said, a tinge of pride in his voice, like he loved the fact that his Uncle and his girlfriend got along so well.

Dottie stared at their intertwined hands as she mulled over his words, only snapping out of it when he moved to switch gears again without letting her fingers go. The van slowly came to a stop on her driveway, the soft murmur of the engine filling the quiet of the summer night. He turned to look at her with curiosity when she made no moves to get out; she was burning a hole on her front door with nervous eyes, thumb on her free hand lodged between her lips as she bit down on her nail gently.

“I’m gonna take a shower first,” she muttered. “Then we can go. And we have to tell my Dad everyone is staying over at yours too.”

“Okay,” he said, the side of his mouth coming up in an amused smile. “Anything else?”

“For dinner, can we get something that isn’t pizza? I’ve been having Italian all week, Donny’s family keeps feeding me everything on the menu so I can recommend it to the customers. I think I’ll die if I eat any more dough this week.”

“Of course,” he chuckled at her dramatics. “KFC okay? Wayne loves a drumstick.”

“KFC sounds great actually.”

Finally turning off the van and heading inside, the pair put some distance between them to seem casual in front of James, who sat on the couch half asleep with a crossword puzzle in his hand and the TV tuned in to some random game show he wasn’t really watching. He took his glasses off and brushed a hand over his face tiredly, opening his arms so Dottie could beeline in his direction and give him a big hug.

“Hey honey, where have you been?” James said, voice gruff after a very long week.

“We went to the lake,” she said, perching on the armrest next to him, Eddie taking a seat in the armchair near them. “It was too hot to do anything else today. How was work?”

“Tiring. S’that why you smell like a swamp? Because you got in the lake?”

“Dad! You’re so mean, I do not smell like a swamp.”

“You kinda do,” Eddie said, giving her a toothy smile.

“You’re not supposed to gang up on me, you got into the lake too,” she stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed in response. “If it’s so bad I’m gonna go take a shower and you two can finally be free from my ogre smell.”

“Are you two hanging out here tonight?” James asked, hand holding onto his daughter’s wrist for a second before she could leave. “What do you want for dinner?”

“We’re going back to Eddie’s for movie night. Everyone went home to shower first,” Dottie lied.

“Oh, okay. You’re staying over or you need me to pick you up later?”

“I think we’re staying but if not, Donny can drive me back, don’t worry about it. We’re supposed to go to the theater tomorrow anyway, Jeff was saying something about Gene Simmons being in a movie? Dunno. I’m pretty excited about the aircon though.”

“Of course you are,” her Dad laughed, finally letting her arm go. “Go back to the Black Lagoon now, shoo.”

“Dad, stop it!”

Dottie had long ago stopped worrying about the kinds of conversation her Dad and Eddie got up to while she wasn’t around as they often revolved around three distinct subjects: nerd stuff, cars, and whatever interesting thing had happened recently. That day’s talk seemed to be about a high end car that had come into Thatcher’s shop in the morning, and as both men marveled at its engineering like they were kids at Christmas, Dottie headed upstairs to the bathroom to rid herself of her dirty clothes and the sticky lake residue on her skin.

The water coming out of the showerhead pinged off the tiles softly, the echoey nature of the room lulling her into a sense of peace and comfort as she slowly undressed and stepped into the empty tub. Dottie took her time relaxing after a long week of intense training at her new job, gentle fingertips working her ginger and mint scented shampoo on her scalp. Her sun-kissed skin felt like it was sizzling under the warm water, more cold than hot to ease the tightness under the red patches. She turned off the water after rinsing all the soap off, wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel and padded her way to her bedroom to finish getting ready for the night.

While she dried herself and applied moisturizer to her shoulders, cheeks and bridge of her nose to avoid her skin peeling off, Dottie stared at her wardrobe with a million questions on her tongue. It was easy enough to put together an outfit for the casual date night - any t-shirt and pair of shorts would suffice for dinner with Eddie and Wayne. It was, however, the rest of her clothes that worried her, from which set of pjs would be appropriate for the eldest Munson to see her in when they inevitably shared breakfast together the following morning yet still cute enough to wear while cuddling up under a blanket with Eddie while they watched a movie, down to, most importantly, her undergarments.

Dottie, while having very limited experience, was no stranger to what sort of things couples would get up to when they had an empty house to themselves. Standing next to her dresser with her underwear drawer open, she weighed all options in her mind. Would Eddie mind that she didn’t own anything like she’d seen on the girls in the magazines under his bed? Would he care about what she wore at all? Was he even interested in taking the next big step with her? It had certainly seemed so on Thursday, but he had backed off completely afterwards leaving Dottie to overthink their interactions until she had finally fallen asleep.

Truth be told, if she really had to consider it, was she ready? She felt comfortable with him, yes, she definitely felt safe, but did that mean anything had to happen that specific night? Eddie had seen her in a completely normal set of underwear all day and hadn’t said a thing. He hadn’t even kissed her. He’d held her hand in the van after everyone left, and he’d been as affectionate and friendly as ever, but aside from that… was he put off now that he knew what she looked like under her clothes?

No. Stop it, Dottie told herself before she could go down a dangerous spiral. He didn’t say anything good but also he didn’t say anything bad. He was probably just embarrassed to say something with everyone around, that’s all. He’ll totally mention it tonight, that’s why he wants you to come over. With a confidence that was more performative than real, she chose a simple white cotton set that felt cute but was also comfortable enough to sleep in, grabbed her favorite pajamas and quickly put an overnight bag together before climbing down the stairs before she could regret her choices. In the living room, Eddie and James were still talking about the fancy car.

“You ready?” Eddie got up when she approached them. “I’ll drop you off at Family Video while I pick up the chicken.”

“Okay. Any suggestions?”

“You pick,” he smiled at her. “But get the two movie deal with the popcorn, I’ll get you gummy bears at the station.”

“Got it,” Dottie turned to her Dad. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, is that okay?”

“Go have fun,” James enveloped her in a hug. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” he kissed her forehead and let her go to shake Eddie’s hand goodbye. “You two be safe, alright? Say hi to Wayne from me.”

“Will do, sir. Have a good night,” Eddie said, wondering not for the first time if James knew more than he let on.

Dottie walked into Family Video with a simple mission: she had to find two movies that both her and Eddie could enjoy together. They both liked fantasy and sci-fi, but a lore-heavy or emotionally compelling movie didn’t feel like the right choice for a night where everything was meant to change between them, and certainly horror was out of the picture if she wanted to get a wink of sleep for the following week. Something lighthearted and fun like Ghostbusters or Beverly Hills Cop seemed like the perfect choice in her mind, and she knew just the person to ask for help in her quest.

The smell of plastic and air freshener filled the air as she surveyed the store for that familiar head of hair she’d come to be really fond of, but when she finally found it, her plans were immediately thrown off the table. Robin Buckley stood in the children’s movie aisle looking very overwhelmed while being surrounded by three little kids and their sweet grandma, who was trying to pick a movie for them. The kids kept showing different tapes to her, and the old lady insisted Robin explain the gist of each of them so she could decide which one was more appropriate for her grandchildren to watch. By the looks of it, this had been going on for several minutes before Dottie’s arrival judging by how disheveled Robin’s vest was getting as the kids tugged on it trying to catch her attention and offer yet another tape as a new contender.

“Hi, welcome to Family Video! How can I help you?” a man’s voice beckoned Dottie further into the store, only to find herself face to face with one Steve Harrington.

“Oh hey, nice to see you again!” she said honestly, watching how the friendly looking boy lit up at her acknowledgement of him.

“Yeah, nice to see you too! Congrats on graduation, by the way,” Steve said, leaning onto the counter.

“Thank you!”

“So, what can I help you with? Unless you’re here for Robin.”

“Oh, no, it’s- well, actually I did want her help but I guess if you two are friends that means you must have good taste too, right?”

“That was kinda a backhanded compliment but I’ll take it anyway,” Steve joked. “What were you looking for? I’m not an expert like Rob, but I’ve seen some cool stuff since I got this job.”

“I was looking for something light? Like… I don’t know, something like Back to the Future maybe?” Dottie mused, following him to one of the aisles at the front of the store.

“You’re in luck because I did see that one. Instant classic. I don’t get why Alex P. Keaton was trying to bang his Mom though, what was up with that?” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, making her chuckle.

“He wasn’t, she was trying to bang him,” she said, and Steve’s eyebrows shot up. “She didn’t know he was her son. Are you sure you’ve seen it?”

“Of course I did,” he scoffed. “I saw it with Robin - hey, Rob!”

“Steve, I’m a little busy here,” Robin raised her voice from her side of the store, throwing daggers at him with her eyes.

“Just answer this for me please: did I see Back to the Future with you or not?”

“Yeah, why-”

“Thank you!” Steve triumphantly turned back to Dottie who was watching the entire interaction with an amused expression on her face. “What did I tell you? I saw it!”

“Okay, I believe you,” she laughed. “Can you help me find something similar to that since you’re Michael J. Fox’s biggest fan?”

“Who’s that?” he asked, back turned as he browsed the shelves in search of a VHS he knew he had stocked earlier in the week. “Aha! Here it is, Teen Wolf. I saw it on a date like a month ago, I think you’d like it.”

“Yeah? How did that date turn out for you?”

“Really bad, but the movie was great,” he tapped on the plastic cover. “Big recommend.”

“You’ve convinced me, I’ll take it. Oh, and this one too, please,” Dottie said, walking to the next aisle and picking up another VHS she’d had her eyes on for a while.

“Clue? Like the board game?”

“Exactly! I haven’t seen it yet, but Tim Curry is in it so it must be good.”

“Who’s Tim Curry again?”

“Did you ever end up seeing Rocky Horror?” he nodded so she continued. “He plays Dr. Frank-N-Furter, you know, the guy in the corset?”

“Ah, yes! Yeah, I remember him. It was, uhm, it was a really interesting movie! The music was very catchy,” Steve said, walking over to the counter to ring her up while he scratched his neck nervously. “You know, I’ve been talking with Robin about going to see some shows in Indy, she knows some cool spots and- and they might be showing stuff like Rocky Horror too! I mean, they seem like the kinda places that would show movies like that. You could come with us if you’d like, I know Rob would love that.”

Steve Harrington’s new self-appointed life purpose after striking out on so many dates for the past year, was to be Robin Buckley’s wingman. He was no longer interested in pursuing flings that always led to him on his own couch with his head on Robin’s lap and her hands on his hair while they watched some weird avant-garde movie she’d picked for the day. He was, quite frankly, tired of trying so hard for nothing, and he’d told her as much when he took her out for dinner on her graduation day.

In a so-sad-it’s-almost-comical turn of events, Steve’s big declaration had been forgotten rather quickly when Robin turned her head to call the waitress over and spotted Vickie, fellow band geek and current crush, making out with her college boyfriend, both of them tucked into one of the booths at the back of the restaurant. Steve tried to pick up the pieces of his best friend’s broken heart that night, her head on his lap on the floor of his bathroom for a change, but he simply hadn’t known how to make everything better at the time.

And so, it was during the next morning as he watched Robin snoozing in what was quickly becoming her side on his bed, her reddish-brown hair spilling over his fluffiest pillow, that he decided the only solution was to find Robin a new object of desire, one that would be emotionally available to reciprocate her feelings without fear of becoming the town pariah. In that scenario, who could be better than the short curly haired girl that already looked to be fond of his best friend, was seemingly unafraid of judgment since she already was friends with the freaks, and was about to move to a bigger city where small town sensibilities couldn’t reach either of them?

It was a flawless plan if you asked him. There was only one little problem in it, but Steve couldn’t be blamed for that - he didn’t have all relevant information yet.

“I’d love to go with you guys too!” Dottie said, excited at the prospect of new friends and fun adventures. “I’ve only been to Indy once so I don’t really know any cool places there or anything.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Steve laughed. “Rob’s been a few times with the school’s band though. They get around, did you know that?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she chuckled, grabbing a few bills from her front pocket. “I have two questions. One, can I get the two movies and popcorn deal? And two, would it be okay if I invited a friend to join us on our big city adventures?”

“One, sweet or salty? Two, that depends,” he said mysteriously, moving over to the snacks display next to the cash register.

“Sweet, please,” she instructed. “Depends on what?”

“I don’t know, is your friend cute?”

“I think so, but I don’t really know your type,” Dottie said, glancing to the side as the front door opened and Eddie walked in, a big grin on his face. “Speak of the devil.”

“Harrington,” Eddie said, sliding next to her and bumping her shoulder like he wasn’t dying to throw an arm around his girlfriend.

“Munson,” Steve greeted him. “Wait, did you- is he the friend you were talking about?”

“You were talking about me with King Steve, princess?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, amused.

“Steve was inviting me to join some cool plans he has with Robin and I thought you might want to come too,” Dottie explained. “I think Dustin would be really happy if you two hung out. He looks up to you both so much.”

“He, uh… Henderson talks about me?” Steve said, surprised.

“Yeah, man, kid worships you,” Eddie scoffed.

“I asked him about you when I saw you at our graduation,” Dottie said, making both boys turn towards her. “He said you were his babysitter, but he thought of you as his older brother.”

“He did? That little shit,” Steve muttered, biting back a self-satisfied smile.

“Gotta talk Claudia into giving him a sibling, that kid’s lonely as hell,” Eddie joked, but his girlfriend didn’t seem to like it very much.

“You’re an only child, if anyone understands what that’s like, it should be you.”

“You’re an only child too,” he noted.

“We should make a club,” Steve said, bringing Dottie’s attention back to him while he put the bag of microwave popcorn and the movies she’d picked in a bag. “I’m also an only child.”

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t say hi earlier!” Robin interrupted their talk, dumping a bunch of VHS cases onto the counter. “Ring all of these up before she changes her mind,” she whispered to Steve, making all three teens snort.

“No worries, you looked pretty busy,” Dottie said, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so nice to see you, we’re kinda neighbors now!”

“Yeah- wait, what?”

“I got a summer job over at Giulia’s! Wanted to come say hi earlier in the week but they keep me on a leash while I’m getting trained.”

“No way!” Robin smiled. “Steve and I love their meatball sandwich!”

“No, you love their meatball sandwich.”

“You always eat the other half, why don’t you get something else if you don’t like it?”

“Because you hate the mortadella sandwich I like so I always let you get the one you want,” he deadpanned, while he finished scanning the stack of movies in front of him.

“Isn’t mortadella horse meat?” Eddie asked.

“No, it’s pork,” Dottie replied, well acquainted with the sandwich menu by then.

“Whatever it is, it’s disgusting,” Robin said, grabbing the bag Steve was offering to her and heading to where the older lady waited while she read the back cover for Cocoon. “Duty calls, have a good night you two.”

“Thanks, Buckley!” Eddie called, but she had already slipped her customer service smile back on to answer more of the old grandma’s questions.

“Well, you guys are done,” Steve said, bracing himself on the counter. “Unless you need anything else?”

“Nope, we’re good, Harrington, thanks,” the metalhead said, arm finally curling around his girlfriend’s waist and pulling her towards the front doors.

“Bye, Steve, see you around!” she said, waving at him over her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I’ll drop by next week so we can make plans!” he replied, not letting her forget about his invite.

“Please do! Bye, Robin!” was the last thing Dottie could say before the door closed behind her.

Steve rested his head on his hand as he watched Robin wrap up with the older lady and her rambunctious grandchildren, herding all of them towards the exit lest they asked any more questions or shoved a new tape into her hands. As soon as they were gone, she walked back where he was standing and dropped her entire body weight onto the counter; Steve patted her hair as if to say “there, there”.

“So…,” he began.

“So?” Robin replied, voice muffled by her own arms.

“Am I a great wingman or what?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked Dorothy to come with us to Indianapolis. Thought she’d be into it. She said yes, by the way, you’re welcome.”

“You did what?! Steve, I’m not- if people knew-,” she began panicking.

No one in Hawkins could know about her best kept secret, which was exactly why Steve had offered to go with her to queer friendly spots in the big city of Indianapolis and act as her alibi should anyone ask. If anyone knew, if anyone found out, if Dottie wasn’t as cool with things like Robin was 99.9% sure she was… Well, it was safe to assume that Robin would be grabbing the bag hidden at the bottom of Steve’s closet and disappearing into the night, probably taking said boy with her.

“You said she was, y’know, like you! She likes Rocky Horror as much as you do, that has to mean something! And this is a perfect chance for you to get over stupid Vickie and her ugly boyfriend, come on, Rob.”

“You can’t just- ugh! You’re such a dingus!” Robin covered her face with her ringed fingers.

“What, what did I do? She seemed really excited about it when I asked!” Steve defended himself, hands on his hips. “She wanted to know if Munson could come too but he’s a freak, he’s probably into it anyway. I’ll distract him, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh my god, you’re just- she’s dating Munson, you idiot!” she said, exasperated.

“What? No, no way! She totally likes girls, you said so yourself.”

“People can like two things at the same time, Steve,” Robin explained in a deadpan tone.

“...They can?” Steve frowned, looking extremely confused as his friend loudly groaned and let her head drop back onto the counter, bracing herself for a long end of shift at Family Video.

Summer nights at the Munson trailer had never really been Eddie’s favorite (mainly due to the lack of air conditioning), but chilling on the couch after dinner with his pedestal fan turned on to its max speed, a funny movie playing on the TV, and his girlfriend tucked into his side, he had to admit he had reached a level of relaxation he didn’t entirely know was possible before that moment.

Wayne was sitting at the kitchen table while he laced his boots - the last step in his routine to get ready for work - and Eddie thought that the only thing that could make the night better was for his Uncle to not have to leave at all. Reluctantly, he contented himself with the knowledge that Wayne had decided to not attend his usual Friday-before-work union meeting to have dinner with them, the KFC bucket they’d all shared now crushed at the bottom of their trash can. The dishes were washed, Eddie had already showered, and Dottie had changed into her pajamas by the time Wayne finally said goodbye to the teens, warning them to behave and not piss off any neighbors with loud music like his nephew was known to do, especially on weekend nights.

Everything felt peaceful, perfectly cozy and comforting after a long week filled with new jobs and snappy customers. The sounds of Teen Wolf filled the air, the constant whirring of the fan and the cool breeze on his skin were lulling him into a dreamlike state. As the movie progressed and Dottie sank more and more into the couch cushions, his heavy arm draped around her shoulders, Eddie pulled her legs onto his lap where he drew patterns on her skin with his fingertips, brain completely turned off as he watched Michael J. Fox prance around a basketball court with fake fur all over his body. Had he been less comatose from the amount of fried chicken and mashed potatoes he’d consumed at dinnertime, maybe he’d have noticed sooner that his girlfriend was not enjoying the quiet moment as much as he was.

Dottie simply could not focus on the movie playing in front of them, head busy nervously anticipating the moment when Eddie would finally make a move on her. And yet, as the minutes ticked on and he looked exponentially engrossed in the story unfolding on his TV, it was looking very unlikely that he would try to do anything about the fact that they were going to be completely alone for the next ten hours. What’s happening? Did I scare him off? She felt like prey waiting for her predator to pounce, except he didn’t seem too concerned in chasing her in the first place. Eddie’s perfectly innocent behavior set all her alarms off - there was danger in the unknown, and Dottie didn’t like not knowing what to expect.

“You want another one?” Eddie’s voice startled her.

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna get another Coke, you want one too?” he shook the empty can in his hand to illustrate his point.

“Oh, no, thank you. Mine’s still pretty full,” she replied, pointing to her barely touched can on his coffee table next to her yet unopened bag of gummy bears.

“Be right back,” he muttered, pressing a noisy kiss to her hairline as he moved her legs from his lap back onto the couch and jogged towards his fridge.

They were more than half an hour into the movie and Dottie painfully realized that by this time, Tyler would have already had her topless on his bed. Back then, there had been many times where she had wanted to continue watching their chosen film instead of doing, well, that, but she had never mentioned it to him for fear of pissing him off. That’s what girlfriends and boyfriends did when they were alone after all, wasn’t it? Jeannie and Tracey had said it was normal when she asked them about it after the first time it had happened. Would Nancy agree with them? Would Chrissy, or Robin?

Eddie padded his way back to the couch, finally noticing that something was off. Dottie wasn’t watching the TV like he thought she had been all along - no, her head was turned towards the screen’s general area but her eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular, right hand restlessly playing with her Mom’s ring on her left middle finger. She jumped when he grabbed her ankle, sitting back down next to her and pulling her legs back onto his lap.

“Hey,” he whispered, lowering his head to look into her eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” she whispered back, settling against his side like she hadn’t recoiled when he’d touched her.

“You sure? I can see your brain working overtime.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just… thinking about next week, don’t worry about it. You’re missing the movie,” she lied quickly, hoping to throw his attention off her and back onto the screen.

“Fuck the movie. What’s next week?”

“Uh, your gig?” she chuckled. “We’re going to Indy on Friday, remember? You’re supposed to be driving us there.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “Yeah, no, of course I remember that but you… I mean, you looked like you wanted to throw up for a sec there. What’s wrong? You don’t wanna come?”

“What?! I got you that gig, of course I wanna go!” Dottie said, like he was insane for even suggesting she didn’t wanna be there.

“I’m just asking, darling, that’s all,” he squeezed her close. “You’re like, super tense right now, what’s going on?”

“I… I have nothing to wear,” she rolled her eyes, doubling down on her lie. “It’s silly, you don’t wanna hear about it.”

“Nope, no, none of that,” he shook his head. “If I’m asking, it’s because I wanna know. Hey, why don’t you ask Nancy to go shopping with you, huh?”

“I was kinda hoping I could borrow something from you, actually.”

“Yeah? You wanna raid my closet?” he smiled, smitten.

“Can I?”

“What’s mine is yours, princess,” Eddie said, nosing her hair. “You know I love it when you wear my clothes. How about I bring some stuff over for you on Friday when I pick you up and you can do my makeup like we talked about? Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, Ed,” she smiled back, burrowing into his chest and pressing a kiss to the soft cotton. “Thank you.”

Even after she settled back next to him like nothing was wrong, Eddie knew that she had been lying. He could tell instantly, not only because he prided himself in knowing her like the back of his hand, but because he’d always found Dorothy Burke pretty easy to read. With her sitting so close next to him, he could pick up on all the little things he knew by now were signs of nervousness: the racing heart, the shallow breaths, the twitching fingers. Enough was enough, and Eddie decided that he’d confront her and get it over with, or else he’d never forgive himself for pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

“Okay, Dot, come on, this-,” he sat up, pulling her up with him. “I can feel your fucking heartbeat. I know something’s up. Just tell me what it is so we can fix it, mhm?”

Dottie had never been one to ever shy away from Eddie’s affections; if anything, she had always given as good as she got. Hugs always lasted a little bit longer than they should, kisses were pressed to places that weren’t the apples of their cheeks, and wandering hands had never been stopped before, even before they’d begun dating. It was for that same reason that her reaction to him simply asking if anything was wrong scared him half to death, because he wasn’t used to her pulling away whenever he initiated physical contact. Eddie hadn’t even finished settling into his new sitting position when she moved further away from him, knees up in front of her like she was trying to put up a wall between them.

Eddie looked at her, really, truly looked at her for the first time all evening and immediately didn’t like what he saw. Her eyes were shifty and shiny, the lips he adored so much were turned into a sad looking pout, and her arms were wrapped around her legs like she was shielding herself from him. Had he read this entire situation wrong? She’d agreed to stay the night with him, even lied to her Dad about it. Had he come across as too eager? Too needy? Had he scared her off somehow?

“Baby, what- what happened? Did I do something wrong?” Eddie asked, searching her eyes with his as she moved her head down to avoid having to look at him. “D’you wanna go home? I- I can take you, you don’t have to stay-”

“Aren’t you gonna make a move on me?” she asked, voice timid but dejected.

“Huh?”

He swore she was fucking with him. She had to be. There was just no other way, because out of any combination of words that could have come out of her mouth at that moment, that exact sentence had never once crossed his mind. Dottie finally lifted her eyes to look at him upon hearing his confused reaction; he had never seen her so nervous and unsure of anything since the day met her. Suddenly, he was reminded of that shy girl that had padded her way into the props room all those months ago, terrified and vulnerable, yet brave in ways he hadn’t considered she could be at the time. Desperate for human connection, for someone to look at her and say hey, welcome, take a seat and don’t you dare leave. He had been trying so hard to go at her pace, to not rush her or make her feel pressured. Where had he failed?

“I’m sorry, could you- shit, say that again for me, please,” he said, dumbfounded.

“Are you going to make a move on me or not, Ed? It’s a simple question,” Dottie repeated, visibly upset.

“I- I wasn’t- Did you want me to or…?”

“No! I mean, yes, I- I don’t know,” she said, hunching over her knees, shoulders coming up in self-defense. “Isn’t that why I’m here? Because you wanna have sex?”

“Fuck, I’m-”, Eddie scrunched his face and moved closer, hands finding hers and tangling their fingers together. The tightness in his chest eased when she didn’t pull them back. “Baby, no. I invited you over because I wanted to spend time with you. Do you really think I would only ask you to come over so I can get laid?”

“Well, isn’t that what couples are supposed to do when they’re alone? Have sex?”

“When they want to, yeah, of course,” he moved his hand to her chin and lifted her face gently. “But that’s not why I asked you to spend the night, babe. Look, I know I’m selfish, okay? We had fun today with the guys, but I just wanted you all to myself for a while. Wanted to watch a movie and hold you like this, that’s all. No sex involved, I swear.”

“Oh,” she said with furrowed brows, and fell quiet for a moment. The movie kept playing in the background as she spoke up again. “I’ve never really done that before.”

“You’ve never watched a movie with your boyfriend before?” he pushed a curl behind her ear.

“No, I- I’ve done that, kinda. I’ve just never been to my boyfriend’s house when he’s alone and not had sex.”

“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to be surprised.

“It’s just that Tyler and I - we never hung out like that after we started dating. We always went out with other friends, and if I went to his house we’d, y’know, do it. I thought you wanted us to do that too.”

“Okay, wait, hold on,” he shook his head as if that could help him clear his mind. “You only went to his house to have sex? You never, like, chilled out with him? Watched a movie, played a board game, I don’t know, anything that wasn’t sex?”

“Jeannie said that’s, like, the only reason why guys invite you over-”

“Fuck Jeannie, she’s an idiot,” he argued. “Answer my question, darling. Did you ever go to his house and not have sex?”

“I… I don’t think so? It wasn’t a big deal, we just… he said we should take advantage of the empty house since we didn’t get to spend a lot of time alone.”

“Did you even want to take advantage of the empty house?”

“I dunno. Sometimes.”

“Dot.”

“It’s not like that!” she crossed her arms and looked away, feeling judged and embarrassed. “I didn’t enjoy it very much, okay? It was just a thing we did sometimes. He wasn’t, like, forcing me! I could always leave or not go if I didn’t want to.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said in disbelief.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Dottie declared, getting up from the couch and collecting their discarded snacks from the coffee table.

“No, I really think we should,” he followed her into the kitchen.

“Why? So you can keep mocking me because I thought you wanted to have sex with me? It’s fine, Eddie, I made a mistake, I get it.”

“I’m not mocking you! I’m just trying to understand- can you please- fuckin’ hell, Dot, stop fucking cleaning my kitchen!”

Teen Wolf was still playing in the background as they stared at each other, knowing full well neither of them was going to back down. The wet rag on Dottie’s hand dripped water onto the linoleum, silence stretching between them. Eddie waited, and waited, his expression worried and desperate at the same time. Her lower lip quivered the more she looked into his earnest eyes. She felt so dumb and small. All day she’d been stressing herself out at the possibility of Eddie wanting to take their relationship to the next level and he hadn’t even thought about it. Wanted to watch a movie and hold you, he’d said.

Dottie had never really known what it was to desire intimacy until Eddie had waltzed right into her life, and the more she pondered on it, the more ashamed she felt. Wasn’t he supposed to want it more than she did? He was the man after all, that’s what guys did, right? What did it mean then, if she was ready for more and he wasn’t? Did he not want her at all? Wasn’t he as attracted to her as she was to him?

“Can we please forget I said anything?” she mumbled, more droplets of water hitting the floor as she unconsciously squeezed the rag in her fist.

“No, baby, we can’t,” he said softly, reaching to remove the wet cloth from her hands and guiding her towards the couch again one step at a time. “We really have to talk about this.”

“It’s so humiliating, Eddie, please,” Dottie pleaded. “You don’t want to do it, I get it. It’s okay, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“Darling Dottie, baby, my love,” he put his hands on her shoulders dramatically. “You don’t want to know how much I actually want to have sex with you because I promise you it’s a lot, but we need to talk about this because I can’t have you thinking that the only reason I want to spend time with you is because there might be fucking involved.”

“I know that’s not the only thing, but-,” she began with burning cheeks, but he stopped her by pushing her onto the cushions again.

“No, no, no. No buts. We can finish the movie and go to sleep on opposite sides of the bed and I wouldn’t give a shit. Am I gonna jerk off in the bathroom when you’re out of here? Fuck yeah, you’re hot as shit, babe,” he said, pleased that even though she groaned and covered her face with her hands, she giggled at his crass words. “But I need you to understand that we don’t have to do anything we don’t feel like doing. Ever. I’m happy with this. I’m happy with you.”

“You really mean that?”

“Do you even know how much it means to me that you want to sleep in my bed with me?” Eddie said, his voice sounding constricted. “That no matter what happens, if we have sex or not, that you’re still gonna be there when I wake up?”

“Why wouldn’t I be there?” Dottie looked confused.

“Darling, come on,” he said, like it was obvious. “I’ve never been dating material. No one has ever been interested in doing that shit with me, at least not until you showed up. Look, if you want to do it, I’m all for it. I promise you, seeing you today at the lake in those cute little panties had me almost drowning myself. I’d be happy to do literally anything with you, but if you think we have to do it because I want it, then get that idea out of your head, okay? This is… this is new to me. No one has ever wanted me just for me and you say you do, so I’m going slow with you because I honestly don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and I don’t want to fuck this up,” he pulled her hands away from where they were tucked against her chest and kneaded her skin with his thumbs. “You mean too much to me to rush into things because I’m thinking with the wrong head.”

“Eddie,” she groaned, letting her head fall forward until it hit his collarbone.

“What?” he chuckled.

Dottie felt like shit. She couldn’t even pretend not to feel like shit, because that’s truly how she felt. Here was Eddie, sweet, loving, perfect Eddie battling his own demons and still putting her first, and all she could think about was how she’d basically cornered him and accused him of not making a move on her because he didn’t like her enough to have sex with her. He did like her, more than enough if he was to believed, and he yet he was still willing to wait because he didn’t want to fuck anything up.

Her heart broke for him as they sat on the couch, his head coming to rest on top of hers and his nails lightly scratching her back on top of her pjs. She put her arms around his waist and held him, horribly cognizant of how much love was stored in him, and how little he’d received from others throughout his entire life. The idea that anyone had taken Eddie to bed (or, most accurately, to the back of his van) and had made him feel disposable and unwanted was almost unthinkable to her. How could anyone leave him after seeing him at his most vulnerable? No, that was simply unacceptable, and Dottie knew she couldn’t let that notion fester in his brain anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she said, nuzzling his jaw. “I don’t really have a lot of experience on this and I thought you were just waiting until we were alone, and then when you didn’t even kiss me, I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“Wait, I haven’t kissed you since Wayne left?”

“You gave me a kiss on the cheek at lunch.”

“I haven’t kissed you all day?!” Eddie was appalled.

“It’s okay, we haven’t really been alone-”

“It’s not okay, we need to fix this,” he said, squishing her cheeks and planting a peck on her lips. “Can’t fucking believe-” he smooched her again. “-I haven’t-” Smooch. “-kissed this pretty face-”

“Eddie, stop!” she laughed, mirth in her face and in her voice.

“Prettiest- fucking- girl-,” he kept pressing wet kisses to every part of her face he could reach while she giggled and tried to squirm out of his reach. “Why are you running away from me, huh? Let me love you, come on!”

Time stopped when Dottie’s back hit the cushion she’d been sitting on, Eddie falling on top of her and barely managing to hold himself up in time so he wouldn’t hit her face with his big head. He let out a silly laugh, grateful for his quick reflexes or else they’d be dealing with a bloody nose, but he cut it short when he felt Dottie’s hand come up to push his unruly hair behind his ear. She was smiling, yes, but she was looking up at him with the kind of loving eyes he’d only ever seen in movies before he’d met her. Eyes he never thought one day could be looking at him.

The tension in the air was thick as she made herself comfortable between his arms, legs opening so he could hover over her like he’d done a few times by now whenever they kissed on her bed. Eddie was about to lean in to do just that when she moved her hand from his hair and brought it to the buttons at the front of her pajama set. As if transfixed, he saw her undo the first button, and then the second one, the dainty blue floral pattern giving way to skin covered by a pure white cotton bra with a thin lace trim. Her fingers were onto the third button when Eddie’s right hand covered hers, stopping her movements at once.

“W-what are you doing?” he said, searching her face for any signs of discomfort or unease. He found none.

“Can you help me take this off?” she said, with that characteristic tender determination he loved so much.

“We don’t have to. That’s not what I meant-”

“Just love me, Eddie. Please.”

“Darling, I-,” he was terrified. Completely and utterly terrified, his big doe eyes shining as he tried to find the words for what he was feeling.

“I’m gonna be here when you fall asleep, and I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise,” she whispered, knees rising until they bracketed his hips, her hands moving to cup his face again.

“I love you,” Eddie said, letting his weight pull him down and into her embrace as he burrowed his head into her neck. “Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

“I love you too, Ed.”

“Yeah? You do?”

“Mhm. So so much.”

“Okay,” he mumbled wetly.

He gave himself a few seconds to breathe in the moment and she let him, understanding that as much as this meant to her, it meant a whole lot to him too. After mentally patting himself on the back a couple of times, he rose back again onto his forearms and nodded once, like he was convincing himself that he wouldn’t ruin anything by charging forward. After all, it looked like she had been waiting for him at the next pit stop once more.

“Okay, we’re gonna do this, yeah? You ready?” he asked, mouth pulling into half a smile.

“Yeah. You might have to, like, have some patience with me. Because I want this, I swear I do, but I’m really nervous.”

“I’m nervous too,” he said, filled with easy excitement. “Let’s, uh, let’s get ready for bed first, okay? And we can see where it goes from there?”

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed.

There was palpable electricity around them as they collected themselves for the night. While Dottie was in the bathroom, Eddie took his time straightening the living room for when Wayne came home, not wanting a repeat from the awkward talk they’d had with him a few weeks back. He didn’t want to disappoint his old man; he really had taught him better than that. When she was done and it was his turn to brush his teeth, she waited for him right next to the light switch, and once he returned to her, they moved together hand in hand from the darkened area to his cozy bedroom, self-contained mess on every corner welcoming them further in.

“Do, uh,” Eddie said as he clicked his door closed. “Do you want the lights on or off?”

“Off, I think,” Dottie replied, chewing anxiously on her nail again. “But maybe we could open the curtain a little bit? I think that’d be good.”

Once the room was sufficiently shrouded in darkness and their eyes had adjusted to the pouring moonlight, Eddie suddenly remembered something of vital importance he had tucked away in one of his drawers. Dottie watched him from where she was sitting on the corner of his bed; he moved around old shirts and socks until he found what he had been looking for. Sheepishly, he turned to her and held a little blue box, almost identical to the one they’d thrown out when they’d cleaned his room all those months earlier.

“Figured this would come in handy one day,” he scratched his neck with a sorry grin on his face. “I promise I checked the expiry date on these before I got them.”

“Yeah, that’s, that’s kinda very important,” she laughed at how ridiculously bashful they were being. “Y-you wanna get in now?”

“Sure!”

Eddie threw the newly purchased box of condoms onto his bedside table to find later if he happened to need them and got under the covers, lifting them up for her to get in as well. They lay there for a few seconds, turned onto their sides so they could see each other but neither moved. Feeling very goofy because of how much they were tiptoeing around the whole thing, he reached out across the bed until his fingertips found her arm, gently pulling her closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered, tucking her into his side like he’d done so many times before and was sure he’d do many more times in the future.

“I love you,” she said, between soft kisses.

“I love you,” he replied.

Summer nights at the Munson trailer had never been Eddie’s favorite, at least not until now. He didn’t care anymore about the climbing temperatures and the fact that they didn’t have a functioning aircon, he couldn’t find it in himself to give two shits about the way the neighbor’s dog barked all fucking night, and how the cicadas never stopped singing their song until the sun was out in the sky again. How could he, when there was a literal miracle happening right inside his own bedroom?

As the two lost teens found themselves in each other, a dream grew underneath their shared bed: flowers fed with love blossomed in the humble garden of an imaginary fixer-upper in a quiet, yet pleasantly quirky neighborhood. There was a dog basking in the sun in the backyard, and a swing in the front porch with hand-sewn cushions on it. And in the imaginary foyer of the imaginary house, on the imaginary entrance table right below the imaginary frames that held pictures of moments that hadn’t happened yet, sat a shared bowl of rusty keys from long forgotten padlocks that neither owner knew where they were anymore, the keys not belonging to one or other, but to both of them at the same time.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3 @oneforthemunny @munsons-queen

[unabashednightmarepizza]

After reading every blurb, one shot etc. from @radiant-reid, I can't help but imagine Spencer and a bubbly and friendly s/o.

Like, maybe she and Hotchner knew each other from before, like they started off as partners in crime together( he probably surprise adopted her at ine point with Haley) and are best friends and one day he just comes like "We have new people coming. Come with me and greet them." like a very demanding father whose child is insisting to not talk to her. relatives when they visit.

But s/o is so glad she did because wow, all these gorgeous people will work with us?🤔🙃And I'm finally blessed with beauty, elegance in all forms? 🥰💞🤩

S/o just takes a hold of Aaron's shoulder dramatically, bending slightly which makes the others worry but he already knows what's coming.

"How did you find all these gorgeous people? Pretty... So pretty and handsome- oh look! She is wearing the pink tone I love and a parrot necklace!" *aggressively shows Penelope with heart eyes, makes the woman suddenly shy and bashful because she never got complimented*

"Stop flirting with people, Y/N."

"When I see someone pretty, I need to appreciate God's work, Aaron."

*Aaron being done with y/n but still watches with a soft smile as she hugs everyone and welcomes them warmly.*

*The team being surprised since they didn't expect it but soakes it all up since Y/N is being a cutie*

*Y/N almost crying, having a slight meltdown when she hugged JJ and Emily because "Wow, I'm hugging two pretty women... 😭"*

Y/N almost hugging Penelope so thight that she was about to combust because all she felt was warmth and softness

Derek hugging her and ruffling her hair because damn, she is like a sister to him already with her bubbly and kind self.

"I'm so glad there are other people Aaron can finally annoy apart from me! He and his wife is always nagging me-"

"It's because you don't eat, kid. And We don't 'nag' you."

"Says the man who almost made me run extra laps because I didn't eat what his wife-"

*Y/N seeing Reid who was looking around shyly, quite unsure but turning to her when he felt a stare on his face* Uhm... Hi... I'm Spencer Reid...

*Y/N looks at him with a dazed look, sweet smile and glistening eyes that Aaron knew too well* "Y/N, no..."

"Y/N, yes... I found my new bestie! Look at him! So cute! And finally someone close to my age!" *later hugging him thightly and him feeling both emotional and awkward because he never felt this and he is all like 🥺🥺*

*Everyone being confused because he is a lil nerd and you are loving every second of it, even more when Hotchner lets out a sigh* "There she goes, adopting a new one... Just watch her do her magic now. You will not let her get away ever again."

*the team being confused even more but laighs as you excitedly show their desks and insist Spencer sits next to you because unlike others, you think he is so cool since he knows so much and his little facts are always so interesting*

Spencer just flushing and blushing madly since you don't sound fake and are genuinely so kind and welcoming, accepting of him that the boi literally falls in love in less than an hour and being teased by others for it.

But then, all of them falls in love with you when you came in with heavy boxes and shopping bags a few weeks later. Obviously late for the meeting and they expected Hotch to be angry but... he was just smirking knowingly, watching as you bounced up and down excitedly and was about to steal their hearts.

"So, before any of you says how late I am, I'd like to say that I had to do my usual welcoming party but I wasn't expecting any of you that day so... Firstly, here is all of your favourite drinks, snacks and meals for later... And Derek, your choice is so picky that I had to drive to the other part of the city, which is the reason why I'm late!" *Everyone widens their eyes as they see the mouth-watering meals they love while you bring the bags inside and clear your throat*

"Okay, okay... Derek, you said you wanted go to that one boxing match but was unable to do so since all the tickets were sold. Coincidentally, I know someone that works there and I was able to get you one, oh! And here is your new holster for your gun!" *proceeds to give it to him with a tiny dragonfly for luck.*

"JJ, I saw that you love scrabble a lot and also wristlets too, so I made a little charm for you alongside with an one year worth coupon for a Chinese take-out restaurant at the corner since you always gush about how amazing they do it!"

"Emily, I seriously didn't know what to get you at first, because you seemed like you don't enjoy jewelries that much but then I saw you looking at charms and playing scrabbles all the time too so I also made one charm with your initials into a keychain for you to use and got you the Lord of The Rings triology you have been wanting to have!"

"Oh, oh Garcia! I heard you were complaining how all the women's clothing were so dull and not like your style at all, wanting to have your dream dress at one point in your life... And remember I asked you to draw it? Welp, here it is! There may be some mistakes since I hadn't honed my skills in sewing and my friend helped me but I hope you like it and remember me whenever you wear them! I also got you matching jewelries too, and they are all bright colors, just as you like it!"

*Tries to catch her breath after talking for 10 minutes straight without breathing*

*Hotchner looks up and down at them as the first wobble of their lips could be seen, smirks as Garcia and JJ are the first ones to jump on you with tears because damn, no one ever loved them too much to notice all these details about them yet alone buying and making them*

"Oh wow, look at the little profiler here~" *Derek ruffling your hair to hide his own emotional eyes as you giggle, parting from them* "I've been working for like 4 years now but yeah-"

"Hey, kid. Are you not gonna show what you got for Spencer too?" *Aaron points out as you flush, your eyes beaming happily while getting out towards your car as Spencer looks confused and a lil bit hurt*

"I don't think Agent Y/N got me anythi-"

"I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED HOTCH BECAUSE-" *slams a huge box on her desk while other let out an audible wow* "I LOVE ALL THE THINGS I GOT HIM! I might as well go to a shopping now..."

*mumbles cutely as Reid's heart starts to beat harder and faster since... the box is huge and is that double chocolate and honey muffins he smells?*

"Firstly, here is your favourite coffee with lots of sweets just as you like it! And what coffee is good without some muffins next to it! I made two of your favourites, at least I think so since you always eat them, and just a heads up... I ate one because damn, did I do them so good!" *pushes them to his desk as he looks down at them with teary eyes because you spent your time doing something for him and up at you as you go on talking*

" Also here is one of the books you once mentioned reading, I think the historical one! That one was so hard to get and I had to follow you into the library you always go but I got distracted with how amazing it was... OH OH, AND I MADE YOU SOME CARDIGANS TOO! I noticed how you like wearing them and made them in your favourite colors! There are bow ties too! I had to hug you a lot of times to understand your body measures tho, I hope it was okay..."

"Then you mentioned you love pens of all kinds and I also bought some of the best ones I found and a notebook too... And the last is the best one!" *jumping in excitement*

"Hey Aaron, remember our hunt back in the national museum? And how the owner was so glad that he gave us free entrance for a year? NOW IT'S SPENCER'S, ISN'T THAT AMAZING! I expect you to bring me too since Aaron here or his wife doesn't enjoy me drowning them with sacred knowledge about the Ancient civilizations."

"Someone has a favourite, I see~" -Derek Morgan who is smiling like an idiot

"Oh please, since I kinda claimed him as my new best friend I had to do so. Besides, you are all my new friends too! Do you know how long I watched you..."

*Spencer slowly taking all of the items one by one as he looks at them, the cardigans being soft and comfy, his favourite muffins are still steaming and the pens... the pens were amazing!*

*Spencer looking at you as you wait for his approval with a smile, tilted head at him cutely and he does something he never did before: hugged you.*

"Thank you, Agent Y/L/N... You didn't have to..."

"Nonsense! You are my friend now, and you will feel it! And please call me Y/N!*gasps dramatically while turning to look at Hotch while still hugging Spencer who had a lovesick smile* "Can he sit next to me? Pleeeease!"

"Okay, okay he can...But you are not gonna sabotage his work- Who am I kidding?" *exasperated dad sighs as you pull him towards his new desk right next to you, excitedly telling him something*

"I bet my ass they are gonna get together in less than two weeks..."

Baby-girl 1: So... Mom basically called dibs on dad?

Baby-girl 2: And he wore cardigans? I KNEW THAT LOVE CAME FROM HIM!

Baby-girl 3: I want to be like mom so much...

Baby-girl 1: You did almost the same with your boyfriend in highschool 🤔🤔

Baby-girl 3: Yeah, I know...

Baby-girl 4: *baby noises*

*all the girls giggling as they continue to look at the photo Auntie Penny took at the first day where their parents are already looking at each other with love*

P.S: God knows all of them need a soft moment and someone loving them unconditionally.

P.S: How cute it would be if they sticked together for 16 seasons tho-

P.S: Am I too invested? Yes. Am I gonna write this? Yes.

*slowly writes it down on the wip*

[scaredgirlsilly]

another short story about gay trans people except they are monsters or whagever ::3

Chelsea

You walk down the street, keenly aware of everyone staring at your monstrous features. Too many eyes, too sharp of teeth, ghoulish skin, you just wish you could dissapear. Everyones looking, surely. You can feel their glares as you hobble past, hear the whispers under their breath. You wonder what they are saying about you, wonder what they are thinking about you.

You dont have the heart to look at any of them, you just keep your eyes glued to the sidewalk, only glancing up to see that your path is clear. Just keep walking, just keep walking. You're almost there. It'll be over soon.

As you glance up, something catches your eye, though. Or... more like some*one*.

Through the huddled mass of people that are making sure to keep their distance, you see horns poke out, far above everyones heads. Looking down you see large red triangular ears, red fur across their 3 eyed face, and a long snout. Their arms resting at their side as they walk, you see a third arm poke out to scratch their knotted fur on top of their head as they yawn, revealing several rows of teeth within their enourmous maw.

They're the most beautiful creature you've ever seen.

And they turn to look at you, and they meet your eyes.

You immediately turn away, horrified that

you were caught gawking, and start walking in another direction, *any* direction, just to get away from your social fuck up. You know what its like to always have eyes on you, you know how awful it is to always be seen, to always be judged. You should have known better, should have just given them the privacy they deserve. Gods you really hope they don't think you were judging them. They were just so... so... pret-

A hand grabs your arm, scaring you out of your thoughts, before you whip your head around to see none other than the beautiful monster you saw earlier.

"Hey..." they say, trailing off. You just kind of stare at her, waiting for her to continue, for her to chastise you for staring earlier. Gods you're so stupid!! How could you be so-

"What's your name?" And just like that, their voice brings you back down from your spiraling thoughts.

"T- Thalia..." you say, barely able to squeak it out through your nervous, shaky voice.

"That is a really pretty name Thalia," their voice is so kind, that little compliment almost makes you feel like your high. "Mine's Chelsea. Do you live around here?"

"Uhh... Yeah I- I just live around the block that way. I was just walkin to the store for some snacks."

"Oooo!! Oh em gee what snacks?"

"Uhhhh..." They seem so genuinely interested, its almost throwing you off. Why you? "Probably just some chips or cereal or... Somethin'. Nothin' too special..."

"Oooo hell yeah thats awesome. One of my favorite snacks to get is these little like... You know the lil' nerd candies?" You nod. "Yeah its like lil gummies *covered* in those nerds, they are *so fucking good*!! If i see a bag of those I *literally* can't stop myself from eating them"

"Woah hehe," you chuckle. Theyre just talking about snacks but they're just so... Excitable. You almost can't help but smile. "Yeah I'll... I'll have to see if they have some."

"Hell yeah. You won't regret it. Here I work over at the lil coffee shop down there, I'm off work in about an hour cause I'm on break right now, how about you swing by and I can hook you up with a free drink and, you know, if you want to, maybe after we could hang out some more cause you seem cool!!" she says, before leaning closer and adding, "And us monsters gotta stick together, you know?"

You almost can't take it. This is all too much. You just sit there for a moment in stunned silence, blinking at them, before realizing you should probably say fucking *something* so you don't creep them out.

"Oh uhh... Yeah that- that sound amazing! I'd love that."

"Hell yeah awesome!! This is so cool oh em gee I made a new friend!!" They giggle, making your heart jump out of your chest. How the fuck can one person be this cute!! "Ok well you have fun getting your snacks and I will see you in just a little bit!!"

With that, they start walking away, still facing you, and start to wave.

"Bye Thalia!!!!"

"Bye Chelsea," you wave back, probably too quiet for them to hear since you are still recoiling from how bizzare that was. Luckily, all your normal self depricating thoughts are being drowned out by just how infectiously amazing they were.

You finish your walk to the store, head held higher than usual, and a dumb, gay smile plastered all over your face the whole way. You also make sure to pick up those gummy things they were talking about. Maybe you'll be able to share them later. You're sure they'll love that.

[foap-enjoyer]

Why Rudy decided to join the army:

Lil unfinished drabble I did because something tells me Rodolfo Parra is a true crime nerd

Also domestic kid Rudy???

I've been thinking about writing Rudy and Ale as kids based on some of my posted head-cannons on them, like a lil childhood story of them.

~

“Buenos días Rodolfo”

“¡Hola Señora Abrigo!” Rudy blinked his eyes to rid himself of the glare of the midday sun, the heat on his back dissipating almost immediately as he stepped into the library. He shook himself off like a dog, closing the door behind him, before looking up to acknowledge the elderly librarian sat behind her desk, book in hand, peering over the pages with gentle, kind eyes.

He grinned up at her, missing teeth and all, and she softly smiled in turn. “What’s on your mind today, chico?”  Rodolfo came here often- there wasn’t much to do in the city of Las Almas, at least, not to him. So he spent his time here, at the library. It kept him busy, and it kept his mama from worrying about where he was. She knew she could always find him here. Here, or, well, at Alejandro’s house. “I’m looking for…” He bit his lip, frowning, “I forgot.”

She laughed, moreso chortled, really. “Romance?”

He curled a brow at her, sticking his tongue out slightly in a pretend gag, “No”

“Thriller? Action?”

He shook his head. He’d read a lot of those recently, his friend, Mateo, was a big superhero fan. He’d read all of the hero books this old library had to offer, adored them all. He even had his own personal collection at home. Rudy had tried to get into them, for his friend, but it just wasn’t working. He needed something more realistic than some héroe mágico and their damsel in distress. 

Señora Abrigo could read him just as well as she could any book. She gestured to the shelves on her right. “Here,” She tapped the sign, “Historias de crímenes.”  “Real crimes?” He peered at some of the titles. A massacre in México, Talking with killers, Why they did it. “They’re real?”

She nodded, “Real as me and you, chico. If you’re looking for something challenging, these are the stories you will want to read.”

He walked over, face set, “Yes.”

She chuckled, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

~

Rudy, years later in the army: THAT FUCKING WOMAN GAVE ME PROPAGANDA

Alejandro, being woken violently from his nap: WHY ARE WE YELLING!??!?

Rudy, sprinting out the base: señORA ABRIGOOOOO-!

[theheromira]

Nimona appreciation post (Part 3 of idk even know how many)

Hi guys, I'm back with Part 3. Sorry about the delay, I tend to procrastinate even if something has to do with my newest hyperfixation lol (Pic for attention, like always lol)

at the beginning he says to Amb that he's not brooding and now he tells Nimona that "Knights don't mope, they brood."

"Murder him, murdder her, murder everyone!" aaand there is Amb standing int the door and Bals pose XD

Amb lil smile when he sees Bal. He probably thought that he killed Bal and seems glas that he's not

Also him just looking at Bals arm

Nimonas lil "Gesundheit" is way better in the english version ngl

Nemesis 😈

"Oh, look! It's Gloreth!" and the knights behind them actually look in the direction she pointed at

Amb acting like he was about to draw his sword and looking like they just caught him doing something forbidden like I don't even know

Bals almost defeated face at the beginning of the closet scene

Nimona just casually ripping that pipe out of the wall

Bals hamster cheeks when she grabs his face

that die-in-the-closet-dialogue felt very strange to me but I still don't completely understand how people can hate people who have a different orientation than them (sexual or not, I don't know how to say that exactly but I hope you kinda understand me?). There shouldn't be a problem about dying in a closet in real life and I really understand why people are so close-minded and this is still happening, I guess. Why does this "kids movie" motivate me to think about this kind of issue so much? But I guess it's a good thing, I'm probably/definitely not the only one who watched Nimona and really started to think about this (and the other themes of this movie)

also Nimona literally coming out of the closet (as a shape-shifter) is like really nice, I love little things like that in movies that you maybe not even register at first

I like to think that the axe opening the door is a little "Shining" reference

Nimona casually catching the arrow before her face

Bal being the competent idiot that he is grabbing the first thing his hand finds to use as a weapon without even looking

"Even if you see the horn?"

"I will not freak… Uhhh" with that face XD

I just looove her line "This is the part where you run.", how she looks at the knights and how they start to panic

Bals face while getting out of the closet is like: What the everloving hell did just happen/is just happening?

"Yeah" "Oh no! Stay away! Get back! No! This is not happening!" XD

Amb just being bamboozled and proving that he's at least a bit of a Nerd (who other then a Nerd or a Zoologist would call a Rhino by it's full name)

"Leave that guy alone!" "Take that" bonks him away with her horn lol, they are such a good duo

Stairs are either your best friend (Nimona seemingly) or your worst enemy (Kungfu Panda)

Bal just being completely like a fish out of water by what is happening during that chase is also kinda hilarious

Also him still having the brain to tell her she needs to go right in all of this mayhem is very competent of him, I stan him just a bit ngl

the whale

hey def needed a meeting table that round, they are a kingdom of knights

loving that Todd gets the tiny d*** joke, one of the best jokes in the movie and this movie has a lot of good ones

THE MUSIC <3

Now he wants the staircase, Bal really should make up his mind XD

I'm a bit sad that the original BlueSky-Scene where she changes into a dragon didn't make it in there but this is also fine, I guess

How did Bal survive that fall?

also loving how he just slides the last few metres face down lol

Nimona looking at Bal before she says her "Something, something, something, we win." was kinda cute

Explosions! "Metal" Also: stuff like this reminds me of a kind of old scetch from a comedian (I know the guy from some youtube vids of different poetry slams but he is a comedian now) I like pertaining bear catapults (I def will get myself some tickets if he ever does a show near me, the guy is hilarious)

Bal looking kinda chill (he prob has a concussion and isn't quite there, I guess) at the different things that fly towards them and then focusing on that little bit of debris that knocks him out (and the sound he makes when he gets hit) lol

Sooo, that was it for part 3. Short I know, but I think I will try to get these posts out and ngl my attention span is a bit short at the moment… with this kind of post thats more on the short site I believe I can stay on the topic and not procrastinate that much. Maybe there will also be some longer ones inbetween, we will see. Have a good one guys ^^