#well. cool librarian. if you're reading this

[secondbeatsongs]

may have said something identifying to the cool librarian and she made a face that makes me think she might know who I am on tumblr. terrifying thought. wish me luck

[lesbianrobin]

lesbianrobin fic scraps #5: you construct intricate rituals to be lifted by other men

"You do know that you have curly hair, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Eddie says, yanking a brush through his hair and wincing at the ripping sound.

"So you're destroying it on purpose? It's, like, a metal thing?"

"Huh?"

"Do you even use conditioner?"

"I didn't invite you here so you could heckle me in my own home."

Steve leans against the front door, all casual like he hangs out in Eddie's living room all the time. "You didn't invite me here, I came to pick you up and you weren't ready. Also, I'm not heckling," Steve says, "Just observing. You don't, do you?"

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Eddie says, “It’s called two-in-one shampoo and conditioner, asshole.”

Steve lets out a noise that's halfway between a groan and a gasp. "You're joking."

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

"Oh my God, you're not joking," Steve mumbles, eyes wide.

Eddie drops his hairbrush on the coffee table and grabs his keys. "Didn't realize I needed perfect hair to ride in Steve Harrington's fancy car."

"No, but you do need shoes."

Eddie looks down.

"Oh," he says. "Yeah, that would probably help."

-

"After this party, you and I are going to the store and getting you some real shampoo and conditioner."

Eddie's still tying his right shoe, seated in the passenger seat of Steve's BMW. "I shudder to think what overpriced garbage you consider the baseline for hair-care products."

“Whine any more and I'm buying you leave-in, too.”

“What's leave-in?”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says mournfully, looking up at the sky as if asking the man himself to lend some strength before starting his car.

Eddie observes as they pull out of the trailer park. “So, O Great Master of the haircare arts, how did you acquire such knowledge on the demands of curly hair?”

“Did you miss when people called me 'The Hair' for four years?”

“Your hair isn’t curly.”

“What, I’m not allowed to know things?” Steve sounds agitated, and he looks straight ahead at the road, not even glancing at Eddie a little bit as he speaks.

"...Oh, there's a story here!"

"No, there's not."

"The lady doth protest too much," Eddie sings, leaning close to Steve's face. Steve glances at him, though he looks back to the road quickly, shoving Eddie back toward his own seat without looking at him.

"Don't laugh."

"I won't, swear on my life," Eddie lies.

"Alright… so, you know Lucas."

"Yes."

Steve sighs. "Well, you've seen me fuck with Dustin's hair, right? I do it to Max and even Mike sometimes if he doesn't look like he'll bite me, and Lucas, he used to have, like, shorter hair, so you could kinda give him a noogie and it was, like, whatever, but now he's got the flat top and I didn't know if I could, like, touch it without messing it up, yknow? So I went to the library—"

Eddie bursts into laughter.

Steve slams his hands on the steering wheel. "I knew you were gonna laugh!"

"No," Eddie struggles to say between laughs, "No, oh my God, that's the cutest thing I've ever—"

"I fucking hate you," Steve sulks.

He can just see it, is the thing, Steve walking into the library and ringing the little bell and stumbling over his words as he asks the librarian for help finding books about hair. Squinting at the spines of books, checking out a few, carrying them back to his car and dumping them in the passenger seat with a satisfied grin.

"I had to help Dustin with his hair for the Snow Ball, too, and his is curly, so you know, I started with him back then, and then Lucas, and then I just kept reading, and it was…" Steve shrugs. "I don't know, it was cool."

Steve says it nonchalantly. As if that isn't the most precious thing on planet Earth.

"You're so cute," Eddie says, and Steve rolls his eyes, but there's something there, Eddie thinks, something soft and fond in the slight curve of his lips. There's something.

-

This isn't how Eddie had imagined getting Steve's hands on him, but he really can't be mad about it.

“Alright, alright,” Dustin chants, as Robin hoots and whistles her support.

Someone begins pounding on the table repeatedly.

“Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve!” Lucas begins the chant and Max joins in, followed shortly by Robin and Dustin. Mike looms over Eddie with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“No pressure, Harrington,” Eddie says.

“Man, shut up,” Steve replies, and starts to push.

Astoundingly, Eddie rises.

“Oh, shit,” he says, tensing his body as much as he can. Steve would never drop him, but Eddie might not have the abdominal muscles required to keep himself from toppling off to the side.

The Steve chant gets louder and faster, more hands pounding on tables and feet stomping on the floor. Mike is clearly trying so hard to look unimpressed, but his eyes just keep getting wider as Eddie rises higher and finally reaches the peak, Steve's arms extended as much as they can without locking out, and he holds Eddie aloft for a few seconds, and Eddie wishes more than anything that he could see Steve's face right now. Steve begins to lower him down, and god, this was all over too fast, and Eddie's heart is pounding like crazy, so loud in his ears that it almost drowns out all of their friends' raucous screaming.

“What in the hell is all this racket?”

Eddie startles, almost falling, but Steve digs his fingers in, and holy shit Eddie's going up again, and then he's coming down, and how is Steve this strong?

“Two,” Dustin calls out, “Holy shit!”

As Eddie goes up again, Nancy explains, “Steve said he can bench, like, two hundred pounds or something, and Eddie said he bet Steve couldn't even lift him and he's about one-seventy—”

“One-sixty, Wheeler,” Eddie calls out, and then he's coming back down again and Steve says, “I don't know, feels more like one-eighty.”

“Oh, screw you.”

“Three!”

"...Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve..!"

“Huh.” Mike's dad almost sounds impressed. “Well, keep it down, your sister's trying to do her homework.”

Mike snorts. “Holly's homework is coloring.”

“Hey, don’t knock coloring,” Eddie says. It’s hard to sound normal, with Steve’s hands pressing into his back and thighs, but he’s pretty sure he’s managing it. “It’s a noble and honored tradition, Wheeler, one of humanity’s oldest pursuits. Art is—”

“Four!”

"...Steve, Steve..!"

“—what makes life worth living, after all.”

Steve grunts with effort, making Eddie’s chest seize up, but he rises for the fifth time. Someone says, “Jesus Christ,” but Eddie’s not sure who.

“Mike, maybe you could ask Steve here to take you to the gym sometime.”

“Dad,” Mike groans.

“And five!” Dustin begins to clap as soon as Eddie’s back down. The hooligans abandon pounding on the table to cheer, hooting and hollering with all of the enthusiasm of an adventuring party confronted with a chest full of riches.

“Alright, get off of me,” Steve grunts, and Eddie acquiesces, rolling to the side and leaping to his feet. God, he could scale a mountain right now. Eddie turns to look at Steve, and holy shit, actually, he could not scale a mountain right now, because his heart would explode. Lying on his back, face slightly flushed, arms splayed out and hair messy, Steve looks utterly obscene. To be fair, Steve always looks obscene, but Eddie can still feel the phantoms of Steve's hands pressing against him, and he holds a hand out without thinking. Steve takes it, leveraging himself up in a way that nearly has Eddie toppling down onto the floor next to him, but they manage to both stay standing.

"What do I owe you, again?"

"You guys forgot to actually bet anything," Dustin says helpfully.

"Shit," Steve sighs, letting go of Eddie's hand to put his hands on his hips.

"Maybe you could get me that hair crap you were talking about earlier."

"I win, and my reward is that I get to buy you things?"

"Yep," Eddie says. He can feel himself smiling, so wide that it's almost embarrassing, but he can't help it. Steve is smiling, too.

Steve eyes his hair, and apparently he's distressed enough by what he sees to sigh and say, "Shit, alright. But you have to use it exactly how I show you, asshole."

Eddie puts one hand on his heart and the other in the air. "Scout's honor."

[mothdruid]

The Librarian

pairing: Rhett Abbott x Librarian fem!reader

summary: Rhett wasn't expecting to find you as the new librarian, let alone the one that was teaching Amy's summer reading program. Over the course of the summer program you two start casually dating, falling in love with one another.

wc: 10.3k

warnings: fluff, smut, 18+, mdni, pet names (mouse, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex, hand jobs, unprotected sex (p in v), alcohol use, swearing

a/n: finally! it's here! i hope you all enjoy it!

Rhett had been surprised when he heard that Cecilia signed Amy up for a summer reading program. Summer was meant for fun and helping out around the ranch, not having your nose stuffed in a book. Amy seemed happy about it though, so Rhett didn’t question it too much. What Rhett did question was why he had to go pick her up.

“It’s just for today, Rhett.” Rhett huffed and rolled his eyes for a moment. Rhett got to his feet, grabbing his ball cap and placing it on his head. Why couldn’t she just go pick her up? She was the one who enrolled Amy in the program anyways. Amy was a smart young girl, she made him proud to call her family. Sometimes he wondered how such a smart person had come out of their family. It wasn't that they weren't smart, just not necessarily book smart. Perry had been the only one who went to college, making Rhett hope Amy would eventually follow Perry's footsteps.

After Rhett muttered an agreement, he grabbed his keys and headed out to his truck. The ride into town wasn't too bad, hot like any other summer day. The heat like this reminded Rhett of his youth, days when he was much more concerned about looking cool than reading a book. A chuckle or two would come out when he thought about it by himself, remembering how much of a prick he used to be. He never spent much time in the library growing up, it was never something that interested him. It tended to just remind him of how much he had hated school.

Rhett pulled into the parking lot of the library, killing his engine with a twist of his keys. He waited for a moment before checking his phone.

pick up is inside the library - mom

Rhett rolled his eyes once more, exiting the vehicle and heading up to the doors. Sometimes he wondered how Wabang was able to have such a nice library. Afford one that wasn't falling apart. Rhett made his way in, finding his way up to the main desk. A middle aged woman greeted him, answering his question and pointing him in the right direction. Rhett walked past a few different areas before coming up on a slightly open space. Couches and tables with chairs littered the area with about fifteen kids sitting at them. Some kids were talking amongst themselves, while only a select few were actually reading.

"Can I help you?" A soft and oddly familiar voice interrupted his sight seeing. Rhett was surprised when he turned, seeing you looking at him. It had been years since he'd seen you, high school in all honesty. He hadn't even heard that you were back in town. He didn't remember you ever looking this cute.

"I.. I'm.." You smiled at him, watching as he tumbled over his words. He closed his mouth, jaw clenching as embarrassment plagued him.

"Well, hello to you too, Rhett. I'm assuming you're here for Amy?" Rhett nodded. Why couldn't he just fucking talk?

"When did you get here?" Rhett asked bluntly. One of your eyebrows raised, a little confused by the question.

"Do you mean when I showed up behind you? Or when did I come back to Wabang?"

"The second one." Finally, his words were working again. Rhett looked you up and down for a moment, taking in your brown overalls and white long sleeve shirt. You were holding onto a few children's books, a small silver necklace hanging around your neck.

"Earlier this year, got this job shortly after. I've been flying under the radar. Under your radar." It wasn't a secret that the two of you had a history. Throughout high school the two of you pined over one another, that was until Maria came along. It hurt a little at first, knowing that you weren't Rhett's first choice, but you also knew that his hormones were too high at the time. By junior year the two of you had moved on, only making small talk when needed during class or at school events.

Your family had always been singled out as the "weird" family in Wabang. It was mainly because your family didn't ranch. They didn't do anything relatively "normal" for the culture in Wabang, aside from taking you and your siblings to the rodeo every now and then. It had never bothered you, and sometimes Rhett wondered if that was why he had a crush. You were different, but not too far off. Always had your nose stuck in a book instead of trying to get fucked after the Friday night football game.

Rhett let out an amused noise at your confession.

"That so?" Rhett smiled at you, the curve gathering to one side of his mouth.

"No, it's not. Just pushing your buttons." There it was, that odd quirkiness that seemed to pull Rhett in so long ago. He watched you give him a wink before you walked over to Amy. She was sitting at a table alone, reading a book. His heart warmed as he watched you tap Amy's shoulder for her attention. You leaned over and whispered that Rhett was here to pick her up. Amy immediately lit up, excited that her uncle was the one retrieving her.

Amy quickly gathered up all of her things, shoving her book into her backpack before you walked her over to Rhett. "I didn't know you were getting me today." Amy said with a bit of excitement. Rhett smiled at her words.

"Neither did I." Amy giggled quietly as she started to head towards the front of the library. Rhett nodded his head at you, a soft smile still plastered on his lips.

"I'll see you around."

"Yeah, see you around cowboy."

-

-

Rhett couldn’t believe that he volunteered to pick Amy up. Again. Rhett was finding him picking her up from her reading program more often than he wanted to admit. It had been two full weeks into June, meaning the program was one third of the way done. Cecilia informed him after the first day that it was a six week program. Six lucky weeks that Amy got to spend with you.

Rhett didn’t want to admit that he was going to see you. But he knew deep down that was the main reason. Seeing you for not even a full five minutes was slowly becoming the highlight of his days. Amy and Cecilia also started to notice his happy demeanor after picking her up.

“What’s got you so uppity?” Cecilia asked when they walked through the door. A devilish smirk appeared on Amy’s face. She set her backpack down near the table. Rhett rolled his eyes at the both of them, setting his keys on the table.

“Uncle Rhett likes the librarian.” Rhett narrowed his eyes at her, a look of disbelief on his face. Amy giggled as she watched Rhett shake his head at her and held his finger up to his lips. It was supposed to be their secret, one they didn’t speak about. Cecilia turned around with a smirk on her face.

“It ain’t Mrs. Benson, is it?” Cecilia joked with Amy. Rhett gave her a simple ‘what the fuck’ face, listening to Amy giggle some more.

“No, Grandma! Mrs. Benson’s too old for Uncle Rhett. It’s Miss Y/LN.” Cecilia raised an eyebrow, acting surprised. It wasn’t like she had forgotten who you were, or who your family was. She remembered Rhett talking about you a little bit in high school, and how you would volunteer at the local old folks home. Cecilia had always known you were a kind soul, something she knew that might work out Rhett's rough edges. Amy trotted off to the stairs, running up the steps quickly to go search her room for something.

“Rhett..” He gave her a curious look, not exactly able to pinpoint the tone in her voice. Cecilia threw her dish towel up over her shoulder, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“What ‘ma?” Rhett didn’t like her silence. He slowly started to recognize the situation more than the tone of her voice.

“That’s Amy’s teacher right now. You can’t be messing anyth-”

“I ain’t messing anything up, ‘ma. Besides.. She’d be too smart for me anyways.” Rhett smiled while he thought about you. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like this. Feel more than just the urge to fuck. It was an urge to meet you, learn everything about you, the ins and outs of your very essence.

“Well someone has to be smart enough to look out for you. Lord knows me and Perry can’t do it forever.” Rhett’s gaze flicked up at her from that table, a glint in his look. He hated to admit it was the truth. He wasn’t rushing to settle down anytime soon, but he sure did yearn for it from time to time. And one of those times happened to be now.

Which is what led him to now. Sitting in the parking lot of the library, twenty minutes before he was supposed to arrive. His foot was tapping on the floor near the gas pedal, his nerves finally starting to get to him. After the conversation with Cecilia, he planned to ask you out. But now it was one week later, three full weeks into the summer program. He looked up at the ceiling of his truck, pulling the brim of his hat down to cover his eyes. “Fuck.”

Rhett moved out of his truck, finally deciding that this was it. It was now or never. He tipped his hat to Mrs. Benson who gave him a small smile. “You’re early, Rhett.” He nodded his head to her, walking up to the front desk.

“I know Mrs. Benson, I was hoping to talk with Miss Y/LN. I don’t want to interrupt the kids though.” Rhett whispered to her with a smile. It was a partial truth, he didn’t want to interrupt them. He also didn’t want them to see him ask out their summer learning teacher. Mrs. Benson gave him a knowing look. Was it actually that obvious?

“She’s in the back room. There will be a door all the way down the third aisle of the non-fiction area. Just over there.” Mrs. Benson pointed in a direction near where the kids would be, but not that exact spot. Rhett tipped his hat and gave her a nod with a thank you. He headed off to find you, making sure he didn’t get lost somewhere in the library. Perry would never let him live that down.

Rhett peaked around the corner of what he thought was the third aisle. He was rewarded by seeing an open door at the end of it. He made his way down the aisle, knocking on the wooden door frame when he got to the doorway. He poked his head in, looking around in the old store room. It wasn’t very big, but sizable. There were three aisles within the room, made by many bookshelves that housed old, unused, and extra copies of books.

“Come in!” He recognized your voice immediately. There was a small rustling noise that came from the third aisle, letting him know where to find you. After a few steps into the room he peered around, finding you on your tip-toes trying to grab a book from above.

“Need any help?” Rhett asked, hoping you would entertain his offer. He took in your outfit, a knee length maroon skirt with a neatly tucked in beige button down. A pair of slip-on black Toms covered your feet, which you rolled back onto after not reaching the book. You looked down the aisle at him, surprised to see him, a small smile covered your lips.

“Some help would be much appreciated. Normally,” he made his way down the aisle, “there is a stool. But it is MIA today apparently.” Rhett nodded with a smile, reaching for the book you pointed at. You checked your watch, seeing there was another fifteen minutes before pick up. “Pretty early today, Rhett.”

“Yeah,” he handed the book to you and watched you flip the pages, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, that so?” You looked at him, his warm oases staring down to meet your own eyes.

“Yeah, it is.” You moved back, leaning against the wall behind you. Rhett moved to stand in front of you, your hands clutching the book to your chest. Your heart fluttered, this exact situation being something you had dreamed about since meeting him. You could tell something was different, he was a little different. It wasn’t just the awkward small talk the two of you had while he picked Amy up.

“Well, go on.” Rhett bit his bottom lip for a moment, thinking about the right way to ask you. He had been over it multiple times prior, but now his mind was failing him.

“Would you like to go out? Like to dinner or something.” Rhett ran his tongue over his bottom lip, pulling your gaze away from his. You watched as the slick muscle glided over the dry skin, wetting it thoroughly. Rhett took notice and moved a little bit closer to you. Your cheeks filled with a warmth when you noticed how close he was, only a few inches away.

“I-I would like that, Rhett.” He never thought he would be able to get someone as articulate as you, to stumble over her words. You looked away for a brief moment, turning your head to look down the hallway. Rhett brought a finger up to your cheek, gently pulling your face back to face him. A soft smile matched his soft gaze. He tipped his hat up, leaning closer to you.

When his lips pressed against your it was like fireworks went off. It was gentle, a gentleness you were surprised Rhett had inside of him. One of his hands moved to your waist, just resting, while the other cupped your jaw and cheek. Three weeks of small talk and ruminating on memories had finally come to a precipice. The kiss wasn’t anything crazy, maybe the beginnings of what could have been an intense makeout. Rhett pulled back, the hand on your waist moved to adjust his hat a little bit. His thumb was rubbing your cheek, making your heart flutter.

“When do you want me to pick you up?”

-

-

“There ain’t no way.”

“No, I’m being serious!” The two of you had moved to the Handsome Gambler after diner, deciding to get a few drinks.

“How am I supposed to believe that little ol’ you stole a traffic cone?” Rhett could barely picture it in his brain. University years you drunkenly toting home a traffic cone. Not to mention the fact you were apparently living in the dorms at the time.

“I was different then, more wild.” You sipped at your cider while watching him. That dopey smile appeared again, making your heart flutter. It was true that your years at university were a bit more wild. Experiencing everything that wasn’t little ol’ Wabang was exciting at the time. You tried to experience as much as you could while at university. Partying, drinking, smoking, fucking, etc. It was all new and something you needed to try, at least once.

“I just,” Rhett leaned across the table a little bit as his voice lowered, “can’t really picture it.” You cocked your head to the side, giving him a questioning look.

“Picture what, Mr. Abbott?” Rhett felt a heat rise to his cheeks at your words. Mr. Abbott had always been a title reserved for his father, but he couldn't ignore what it stirred up in him. He leaned back into the booth seat, his hand holding his beer firmly on the table.

"Picture you out partying and what not. I'm just used to you being a little bookmouse." Rhett was mentally kicking himself in the ass. Bookmouse? What the hell was that?

"A bookmouse?" Rhett flushed even more, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Yeah," Rhett thumbed the rim of his glass bottle, "cause you liked books and were quiet." Another flutter. You couldn't help but smile at Rhett's cuteness. The way he was talking, both awkwardly and confidently, made you giggle.

"Well, this bookmouse did a lot more than just read books at university." You winked at him. Rhett's mind swirled with possibilities of what you meant. He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself in his pants. "Maybe I'll show you some day."

Rhett raised an eyebrow at your proposition. Fuck, he liked the sound of that. He leaned over the table one more time, "How's about we get out of here?" Eyes flicking towards the door.

"I'd love to but," Rhett's eyebrows knitted together, "I gotta get stuff ready for the kids tomorrow." Rhett had almost forgotten that it was the middle of the week. He actually had forgotten until you grounded him. Rhett nodded, jaw clenching in a casual way. He wasn’t annoyed at you, more or less annoyed with the situation. Rhett loved that you enjoyed helping the kids with reading, making sure they grew up smart. Just like you.

“How’s about,” you mocked with a glint in your eye, “you take me home, cowboy?” Rhett smirked at your request, watching you finish off your bottle of cider. He nodded and finished off his own drink. He climbed out of the booth and offered his hand out to you. You gladly took it, lacing your arm around his.

The walk to his truck was full of giggles, your feet not wanting to keep you balanced. It had been awhile since you decided to drink, mainly leaving it back in your university days. Rhett was there for every stumble though, a smile plastered on his face while he caught you. When the two of you got to his truck you leaned near the rear fender, staring at him. A soft giggle came out of you, earning you a cute questioning face from Rhett.

“Hmm?” Rhett crept closer to you, his hands grabbing the top of the truck's bed. Rhett had effectively caged you between him and his truck. “What’s got you gigglin’ like that?” Rhett leaned towards you, bringing a hand up to tip up the brim of his hat. Rhett was only a few inches away from your face. Rhett couldn’t get enough of this, seeing you nearly pinned underneath him.

“You’re cute.” Rhett could smell a hint of cider on your breath, lacing your words while you talked. “I want you to come home with me.”

“You’re pretty cute yourself.” Rhett tilted his head so his lips were near your ear, “And that could be arranged.” Rhett’s hand traveled down to your waist. You squinted at him, remembering your words from earlier.

“We can’t do anything tho-” The hand that was on the truck came to your cheek as his lips covered yours. It was another gentle kiss, just like the one earlier in the back room. Your hands rested against his chest while his lips worked over yours.

“We don’t have to.” Rhett didn’t want to pressure you into anything. He wanted this to work out. He yearned for it to work out. “I’ll help you get stuff ready for the kids, promise.” Rhett pressed a small kiss to your cheek before removing himself from you. He stepped towards the passenger side door, opening it and gesturing for you to climb in. “Hop on in.”

The ride back to your little house was quick, not too far out of town. You always deemed yourself lucky by getting somewhere this close in town, not out in the middle of nowhere. Rhett’s hand sat planted on your thigh, thumb rubbing small circles during the ride. Rhett made sure to get the door for you, offering his hand to stabilize you when you stepped out of his truck. A smile spread across his face when he saw the inside of your place. Art adorned the walls while the shelves of your bookcases were packed full. It was messy but neat, something Rhett always found captivating about you.

“Whatcha think?” You toed your shoes off while you looked at him, balancing yourself against the wall. Rhett took off his own boots then followed you into the kitchen.

“It’s you.” Rhett couldn’t think of any other way your house would be. It felt homey. It felt like you. You grabbed out two glasses from the cabinet, filling them up with water from the sink. You offered him one, which he reluctantly accepted. Water wasn’t his favorite type of drink, but it would do for now. Rhett placed his hat on your kitchen table, sitting down while you sat across from him.

For the rest of the night the two of you joked while getting around your items for the program. Rhett questioned your choices of coloring pages, while you pressured him to drink more water to sober up. A warmth had spread all over him, knowing this is the spot he wanted to be. He wanted to be here helping you get wax paper ready for sun catchers, and laughing about the embarrassing old things the two of you had done.

“Sleep is finally catching up with me.” You checked your phone briefly, seeing how late it was. Rhett hadn’t realized how late it actually was. A part of him was surprised that you were even up this late. He thought you might be the type that went to bed at 10pm almost every night.

“It’s about time I left then.” Rhett didn’t want to leave, he wished he could stay forever. He reached for his hat, fingers barely touching it when he spoke up.

“Or you could stay.” Your eyes met his, watching as his tongue wetted his bottom lip. Rhett tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. The proposition was too tempting.

“Would that be okay?” His cerulean eyes never left yours. After a moment you averted your eyes and nodded. The two of you placed your cups in the sink before making your way back to your bedroom. A nervousness was settling inside of you, a part of you worried that things would get out of hand. Rhett noticed this and placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling you in so his chest was pressed against your back. “It’ll be okay, we won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

Rhett wouldn’t admit it, but he was also nervous. Nervous to finally have you in this manner, something so domestic. It was scary, opening himself up to someone. It was more terrifying than riding a thousand pound bull. The thrill was much different though. “I don’t have any pants for you to sleep in.” Rhett nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’ll wear my underwear, if that’s fine.” You reassured him that that was okay before moving out of his grasp. You dug into your own dresser, finding your own sleep shorts and then an old t-shirt. You excused yourself to the bathroom, taking your clothes to change into. You hadn’t expected your nerves to ramp up.

After you brushed your teeth and changed you made your way back to your bedroom. Rhett sat on the edge of his bed, typing out something on his phone. He had shucked off his pants and flannel while you were gone, sitting in his grey boxer briefs and white t-shirt. A flutter stirred inside your chest, making your nerves jump up again. Rhett set his phone on the side table before noticing you were back.

“Oh, hey.” A small smile covered his lips when he saw you. God, you were so fucking beautiful. He took in your messy hair and old Wabang High t-shirt, one that he probably also had laying around somewhere.

“There is a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet.” Rhett nodded before standing up. He stopped next to you, bringing a hand up to your cheek. A small kiss was placed on your forehead. Rhett’s thumb rubbed softly against your cheek until he left for the bathroom. You climbed into bed, a loving smile on your face.

Many thoughts swirled around in your head but one specifically stood out. He is the one you would want to do this with every night. He is the one you wanted to be domestic with. The one you didn’t want to screw up with. Rhett was the one.

-

-

The sound of your alarm woke you up first. You quickly turned it off, not wanting the blaring noise to continue any longer. When you laid back down a firm arm wrapped around your midsection. It reminded you that there was someone else inside of your bed. Rhett Abbott. He was pulling you back into his toned chest.

Heat radiated from his chest to your back, igniting a flame inside of you. This is everything you ever wanted. The man you had always wanted curled up behind you, keeping you close to him. If it wasn’t for having to work you would lay here all day with him. Rolling around in the sheets, the both of you treating each other to all the pleasures you had to offer. But alas, the library was calling. You went to sit up, the firm arm not releasing you.

“Don’t.” His voice was gruff, soaked in sleep still. When you looked at him he kept his face pressed into your shoulder blade, rutting his hips into your ass lightly. The heat in your chest moved up to your cheeks, his erect cock pressing into the flesh of your ass. A small part of you loved that he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Hide the effect you had on him, especially so early in the morning.

“Rhett, I have to.” Rhett nuzzled into you, pressing his hips harder into your ass. Rhett was really trying to get you to stay, tempting you with something you both wanted. You didn’t have intentions of giving in fully, but what would be the harm and giving him something to remember?

Rhett’s hand gripped on your hip, you rolling your ass back onto his cock. A groan emanated out of him. “Fuck.” You pulled back from him and rolled over to face him. Rhett moved onto his back as you shifted to hover over him slightly. Your hand snaked under the blanket, palming his dick under the covers. Rhett let out a few more groans and profanities, eventually pushing the blanket down to his mid thigh.

Rhett’s breath was a touch shaky as you dipped your hand below the elastic band. His hips bucked slightly when you fully grasped his cock. Rhett groaned at the contact of your soft hand on his cock. “Fuck, darlin’.” His head fell back into the pillows as you watched him, feeling his cock pulse under your touch. Rhett’s hands drifted to push his boxer briefs down, letting you get a full view of everything. Rhett looked back up at you, oases warm and inviting as ever.

You connected your lips with his, consuming his groans while you continued to stroke his cock. His hips bucked every now and then, trying to get more friction. When you pulled back from the kiss, you moved your mouth down over his cock in your hand. After stopping your strokes you locked eyes with Rhett, letting a large glob of spit fall off your tongue to his cock in your hand. Rhett groaned as you resumed your strokes, a new slick feeling to your hand. You ran your thumb over his head every now and then, collecting his precum to mix with your spit.

“So dirty.” It was all Rhett could say as his hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you up to him. He smashed his lips into yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You never thought Rhett could get this needy, but god did you love it. Rhett’s cock started to twitch more often in your hand, signaling his orgasm was approaching. You pressed your forehead to his when you pulled back from the kiss. Then as faint as a whisper you heard him speak. “Please.”

“Give it to me Rhett, let go.” Rhett’s free hand moved to push up his t-shirt, showing off his flexing abdomen. Without another second Rhett was spilling his cum on your hand and his stomach. A ragged ‘fuck’ fell from his lips, with whimpers mixed with groans following. You stroked him through his orgasm, his hips stuttering and bucking with every stroke. Rhett couldn’t remember the last time a hand job made him feel this good.

Rhett laid there, blissed out on the bed. Rhett could barely focus on the world around him, only focusing on the amazing hand job he just had. He was pulled back from his thoughts when he felt a warm wet washcloth drag over his stomach, He groaned softly when you wiped off his cock, cleaning off all potential left over cum.

Rhett smiled as he watched you toss the washcloth into the hamper, moving back over to him on the bed. “That enough to hold you over?” Rhett pulled his boxer briefs back up around his waist. He leaned up and kissed you, one of his hands cupping your cheek.

“More than enough.”

-

-

For the next three weeks Rhett made it a point to show up for pick up early. He would seek you down in the library, not caring if you were with the kids or not. If you were with the kids he would patiently wait, scanning whatever bookshelves were closest. That’s where you caught him today.

“Gonna start reading anytime soon?” Rhett looked up from the shelf to see you. You were wearing a pair of mom jeans today, something you corrected him on a few weeks ago. The baggy sweater you wore complimented them. Rhett put on a little bit of an embarrassed smile as you crept a bit closer. He took his cowboy hat, leaning in a bit closer to you. He was only a few inches away from you now.

He couldn’t help but stare at you. How did he manage to actually capture your attention? Someone this ethereal giving him the time of day seemed like a dream. Your eyes flicked from his cerulean eyes to his lips. Rhett brought his hat up to the side of your faces, shielding anyone from seeing the two of you. It felt like the heat of the library had been turned up a few degrees.

Just as he was about to kiss you, you put your hand up to his chest. Rhett stopped immediately, not wanting to push too far. It wasn’t that he was worried about you not wanting him. You definitely wanted him, or at least that’s what he picked up on from late night texts and pictures you had sent him. “Hmm?”

“I don’t want any of the kids to see.” Rhett smiled. That was one thing he had learned to love about you within the few weeks. Even though they tended to be too much sometimes, you always thought of your summer program kids first.

“You’re right,” Rhett took a step back from you, “wouldn’t want them to get any ideas.” He placed his hat back on his head.

The two of you slowly made your way over to the work area for the kids. They were reading, as usual. You had told Rhett that this was the best way to get the kids to calm down before handing them back to their parents. Amy had always been a relatively calm kid, so he couldn’t imagine what she’d be like riled up.

“End of the week?” Rhett was counting down the days. Waiting for the end of the program to finally show up. Waiting for the night he could take you out, show you how much he cared about you. Rhett ashamedly couldn’t wait to bed you either. His own hand was starting to get boring, the only thing spicing it up was the half naked photos you sent him accompanied by texts about what you’d like to do with him. His brain clung to the memory of you jerking him off, something he couldn’t let go of. Which made the next day extra special.

Rhett barely got a lick of sleep that night, fisting his dick harshly until he came to the picture you sent him. It was as if you knew the effect you were having on him. Sending a picture in this old cowboy hat you had found somewhere, black lace bra and panties on display. It was a good thing that Rhett wasn’t a religious man, because he would definitely be condemned to hell after this month.

So, Rhett made sure to show up to the library an hour early that day, not just fifteen or twenty minutes. Mrs. Benson politely told him that you were in the back room again, a bit of a confused look on her face. He bee-lined for the back room, silently walking in and closing the door behind him. He made sure to switch the lock on the back room door before looking up and down the aisles for you. He found you in the third aisle, in just the outfit he needed you to wear for his plan. He had double checked in the morning, asking for an outfit picture which earned a small winky face with a picture.

The plaid skirt flared out from your hips, stopping at a little bit before your knees. A baggy cardigan covered your top, making Rhett wonder if you had a tank top or anything underneath it. God, he wished he could have done this sooner.

“Hey.” Rhett watched you jump slightly, spooked by his presence.

“Oh my god, Rhett. You scared me.” You held your hand over your chest, Rhett’s eyes trailing to look at your fingertips touching the bare skin of your clavicle. Nope, no tank top. It was the skin he craved to mark up, leave little trails that you could remember him by daily.

“Wasn’t my intention.” He flashed a crooked smile as he took a few steps closer. You could tell there was something different about him today, almost as if he was stalking you. When he reached you he pecked your cheek, making your heart flutter. You loved that he still had this effect on you. You checked your wristwatch, realizing he was much earlier than normal.

“What’s got you coming in so early? There ain’t another hour, well, forty-five-ish minutes before you have to be here.” You went to turn back to face the shelf but Rhett grabbed your wrist.

“Wanted to give you a surprise.” Rhett walked around you, guiding you so your back was almost against the bookshelf.

“A surprise? I don’t recall you saying you had one for me.” Rhett chuckled at your words, leaning in and kissing your jawline.

“Wouldn’ be much of a surprise then, now would it?” Rhett’s lips trailed down your neck, nipping every now and then. Your hands instinctively moved to his chest and shoulders, the material of his flannel soft under your fingertips. One of his hands settled on your waist while the other cradled the other side of your jaw and neck. A soft noise escaped you, urging Rhett to continue with his plan.

“Been waiting weeks,” he lips were soft on your neck in between words, “waiting patiently.” The hand on your waist found the bottom of your baggy cardigan. It was thrilling when he pushed it up slightly, his calloused fingertips grazing over the newly exposed skin.

“Rhett, I-”

“I locked the door.” He pulled back, pupils blown wide with lust as he stared at you. “Wanna make you feel good, the same way you did to me.” You checked your wrist watch again, seeing there was still forty minutes before you had to get the kids ready to leave.

“You better make it quickly then, Mr. Abbott.” Rhett groaned at the title you called him. You had picked up on it throughout the weeks, noticing how his breath would hitch after hearing it. Rhett smashed his lips into yours, a messy kiss pursuing.

The hand grazing your skin under your cardigan moved to the front of your skirt. Fingers dipped between the apex of your thighs, pressing tightly on your pussy. A moan was torn out of you, not expecting Rhett to do this. Was this the surprise he was talking about? It had to be. The hand on your pussy left your body, Rhett pulling back for a moment.

“I wanna taste you.” It felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, slightly worried about the situation. What if someone were to walk in? Rhett did say he locked the door though. Finally you spoke.

“Depends on how quick you can be, Mr. Abbott.” A smirk tugged at his lips. Without warning, Rhett started to drop to his knees. His hands moved to the hem of your skirt, barely brushing the skin of your thighs.

“Don’t worry ma’am, I can be quick.” The heat in your cheeks boiled as you nodded your head. He pushed the plaid skirt up your thighs, kissing newly exposed skin. “Hold this.” Rhett said as he offered the edge of your skirt to you. You grabbed the material, holding it in your hands tightly. Rhett let out a groan when he saw your soft pink lace panties.

Without warning Rhett pressed his fingers against your panties, rubbing softly at first. Rhett could feel a wetness soaking through the front of your panties. He watched as your hands tightened on your skirt, faltering slightly. His hand touched yours, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Keep your skirt up, sweetheart.” Your cheeks burned at the pet name he had started to call you through the weeks.

Rhett moved closer, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. He slowly guided them down your legs, taking them off and sneakily placing them in his back pocket. He pressed quick kisses to your thighs before reaching your bare cunt. Rhett pushed his tongue between your folds, licking at your clit. You used one hand to hold your skirt, stabilizing yourself with the bookshelf behind you.

Your mouth hung agape as Rhett flicked and licked at your pussy. One of his arms wrapped under your thigh, placing one of your legs over his shoulder. You gripped the shelf behind you tighter, pleasure mounting inside of you. Rhett brought a hand up, slipping a finger inside of your entrance. It was a stretch, but it wasn’t enough. The sensation made you yearn for more, yearn for more of Rhett to be inside of you.

“Rhett..” His name was barely a whisper on your lips, trying to stay quiet. You looked over at your wrist watch once more, noticing only ten minutes had passed. Rhett pushed another finger inside of you, earning a moan as your head lolled back. His two fingers thrusted into you as his mouth gave all its attention to your clit.

“You taste so good.” Rhett whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “Been thinking about this for weeks.” The hand on your skirt tightened a little bit more, your hips starting to cant forward. You started to roll your hips against Rhett’s mouth, the vibrations from one of his groans adding to your pleasure. Rhett’s fingers prodded at that sensitive spot inside of you, increasing the speed of his tongue flicking your clit.

With that combination you let go, coming all over Rhett's mouth. Rhett’s tongue switched from the quick flicks to slow languid strokes, helping not to overstimulate you too much. Soft moans poured out of you, riding out your climax on Rhett’s tongue. Rhett pulled away from you, his fingers leaving you empty inside. A strong desire within you wished he would fill you again, with his cock this time. But you knew that there wouldn’t be any time for that.

Rhett helped lower your leg down, standing up and making sure you were stable. You let your skirt fall, reaching out and grabbing his hand. You brought his hand up to his mouth, taking the two fingers covered in your cum into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around his digits, making him groan and adjust himself in his jeans.

“You’re so dirty.” Rhett whispered against your cheek, his forehead resting against your temple. “Told you you tasted good, don’t ya?” You nodded. You popped off of his fingers, licking your lips afterwards.

“Can I get my underwear back?” You asked playfully. Rhett smirked again, giving you your answer. “Really?”

“It’s my prize, sweetheart.”

The two of you left the back room, earning a questioning look from Mrs. Benson. It was only ten minutes before the other children's parents would start showing up. Rhett hung around and chatted with you, letting Amy keep reading her book. Which ended up with her still reading after all of the other kids had left. Rhett said she could use the time, but you knew the real reason why he was hanging around.

-

-

It was a Friday night, which meant the summer program was over. It had ended that morning, Rhett showing up early to pick Amy up for the last time. He hadn’t mentioned this ride all week, probably not wanting to pressure you into coming. But you wouldn’t have considered it pressuring, you wanted to see him.

Rhett was beyond happy to see you out at his competition tonight. Even more happy when you gave him a small kiss, telling him to break a leg. It was something you had picked up in college, your theater friends explaining that it was bad luck to wish someone good luck before a show. Which you had explained to Rhett briefly one night while the two of you were cuddled up watching a movie. Rhett couldn’t help but think that was what saved him during his ride, when his hand felt like it was gonna slip from the rope. It didn’t though, finishing his ride without anything bad happening.

Tonight was the first time he was allowed to show any type of overly affectionate PDA. Finding you after his ride couldn’t come soon enough. You were hanging out near the rider area, patient as always. Rhett just needed you, needed to thank you for everything. You let out a squeal when his arms snaked around you, picking you up and spinning you around. You quickly grabbed for your glasses, making sure they wouldn’t fall off your face. Hoots and howls could be heard from the other riders. Rhett tipped his hat after he set you down, hand caressing your jawline. His lips connected with yours, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

It was a gentle kiss, like a lot of the kisses you had shared so far. Kisses at the library, when he took you home after dinner, on the couch cuddled up. So many gentle kisses before, but this one was different. It was something unspoken in this one. An unspoken amount of love for one another.

“Let me take you home.” He whispered, adrenaline still pumping through his system. Rhett hunted down Perry, instructing him to drive his truck home. Perry gave him a knowing look before telling him he was proud of him.

Your heart raced as you sat in the passenger seat, Rhett driving the both of you back. His hand was glued to the inside of your thigh, thumb rubbing small circles. It wasn’t that you were nervous to be with Rhett, that was not it. It was the gravity of the day. The two of you had been keeping things as steady as possible, not wanting anything to get too convoluted while you were teaching Amy. But you weren’t teaching her anymore. The two of you were essentially free now, free to be together to the fullest extent.

“We don’t hav-”

“I want to.” You looked at Rhett, his eyes flicking over to you before focusing back on the road. You adjusted your glasses, “I’m not nervous about doing it or anything.”

“I mean you did promise to show me your wild side one day.” Rhett snickered, remembering the first night the two of you went out.

“I think your surprise at the library counted as that.” You shot him a playful glare as the two of you pulled into your driveway. “It’s just..” Your words trailed off, biting at your lower lip.

“Jus’ what?” There was a short silence. The look on your face was softer now, not as playful. But Rhett could tell you were struggling with something, there was clearly something on your mind. He reached out, rough fingertips gently guided your face to look at his. Rhett knew it had to be now that he told you the thing he had wanted to tell you for weeks.

“I love you.” The two of you said it at the same, confessing your love for one another. You let out a giggle as Rhett flashed you a big smile. He leaned in towards you, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His lips moved heatedly on yours, consuming everything you had to offer. His hand shifted to the curve of your jaw, fingers splaying out near your ear. The kiss continued for a moment longer before you both pulled back for air.

“Inside, now.” You demanded.

Rhett killed the engine while you got out. His hand snaked around your waist when you got to the door. While you pulled your keys out, Rhett’s hand sneaked into the back pocket of your jeans. A brief squeeze on your ass had you shooting him a look. He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss onto your neck. “Who locks their door out here?”

“It’s an old habit from the big city.” You explained while you slid the key inside the lock. “Plus, I don’t want any unwanted critters inside.” The two of you stumbled in the doorway, Rhett still close by your side.

“Is that what I am? Unwanted critter?” Rhett joked, hands pulling you flush against him after closing the door. You giggled as he started nipping at your neck.

“Don’t think I’d tell an unwanted critter I love him.” Rhett chuckled at your response. The two of you headed through the hallway, hands and lips traveling all over each other. Rhett’s flannel and hat had been lost in the living room, yours in the hallway.

Once to your bedroom, Rhett started to take a bit more control. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them tight to his. You could feel his cock getting hard in his jeans, his belt buckle digging into your hip. One hand moved to your face, cupping your cheek while kissing you roughly. He kept walking you back until the bed hit the back of your knees. The kiss broke as you went to lay down on the bed, Rhett following you immediately.

"You look so beautiful." Rhett said as he admired your beauty. He finally had you laid out underneath him, a dream come true. His hands ghosted over your sides, grabbing at your hips and pulling them tightly to his. Your arms snaked around his shoulders, fingers combing up through the hairs on the nape of his neck. Rhett’s mouth worked on your neck, groaning as he left a wet trail along your skin.

A small giggle came out of you as he nosed along up your neck. He kissed up your jaw before pulling up to look at you, “What’s got you gigglin’”?

“Oh nothing, Mr. Abbott.” Rhett rutted his hips into you harshly at the name.

“You better watch yourself with saying that.”

“What? Don’t like it, Mr. Abbott.” You teased. Rhett groaned, fingers grabbing your chin tightly.

“You know what that does to me.” You pulled him down and connected your lips with his. The both of you smiled into the kiss as your hips rocked together. His hands moved to the hem of your t-shirt, pushing up the shirt to get access to your skin. Fingers ghosted and trailed up the skin of your midsection. He pushed the shirt up over your chest, exposing the light pink lace of your bralette. Your back arched when he grabbed your breasts, kneading over the lace.

“Like what you see?” You only half joked.

“You have no idea.” Rhett tugged at your shirt more, signaling it was time to remove the article. After your shirt was gone Rhett kissed the valley between your breasts. His hands kneading at your flesh while kissing your chest. His fingers slipped underneath the band of your bralette, guiding it up over your head.

It was the first time he had seen your bare breasts. Yeah, you had sent pics of you in lingerie to him, but never anything completely bare. He pressed a few more kisses all over your chest before taking a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched slightly, his mouth consuming more of your breast. His thumb and forefinger started pinching and rolling your other nipple. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly.

“Rhett.” His name was barely a whisper on your lips. You could feel him groan around your nipple when your hand trailed down between the two of you. You palmed the front of his jeans, his cock pressing hard against your hand. Rhett sat up, pulling his own shirt off and undoing his belt buckle and jeans. After he shucked them off he moved to undo your jeans.

“A matching set?” Rhett questioned when he saw the light pink lace panties. You had planned it out all week, knowing that you would finally have a moment like this. A moment of being completely vulnerable to Rhett. His fingers ghosted up over your legs as he settled between your legs. You felt completely bare under his warm oasis of a gaze. A bit of nervousness flowed through you, nodding softly as a response to his question.

“Cat got your tongue, mouse?” You shot him a little look. The little name took you by surprise, a small call back to your first night at the bar. Fingertips trailed over the pink lace covering your core. Rhett started rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt, feeling the small wet patch that had started to form. His gaze locked with yours as you let moans and gasps fall from your lips. His hands moved to the edges of the lace, pulling them down slowly over your legs.

After tossing the panties somewhere behind him, he grabbed one of your ankles and lifted it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your ankle. Soft lips continued down the inside of your leg, Rhett slowly settling against the bed. His hot breath fanned over your cunt, your insides clenching at the sensation. Rhett wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping you locked in place before he even started.

Rhett’s tongue flattened on your clit, licking slowly. Both of your hands snaked down, one landing on the comforter while the other took its place in Rhett’s hair. Your back arched, pleasure flowing through you with each lick of his tongue. One of his arms left your thigh, reaching out to your hand on the comforter. He laced his fingers with yours as he continued his feast between your thighs.

Gasps and moans mixed in with calls of Rhett’s name, urging him to continue. Small vibrations could be felt from Rhett’s groans, pushing you closer to your climax. The tightening sensation in your abdomen was becoming more noticeable. Rhett flicked his tongue on your clit then dragged it slowly back and forth.

“Holy fuck…” You could almost feel the smirk on his lips. Rhett flicked his tongue more intensely on your clit, finally pushing you over the edge.

This was a similar sensation that Rhett got from riding bulls, pure ecstasy. All Rhett could think was how beautiful you looked, coming all over his mouth. The way your back arched off the bed, hand tightening against his own. Seeing you give yourself up to him, letting him push you over the edge in such an intimate way had him grinding against the bed. Rhett couldn’t help but think about how good you would feel wrapped around his cock. Being connected at your core.

When he pulled back you finally got a break, your chest falling heavily. A small trail of wet kisses was created as Rhett moved back up your body. He nuzzled your neck and jaw, pressing more kisses before capturing your lips with his. You could taste yourself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth.

“You taste so fucking good, mouse.” You rolled your eyes.

“My turn to taste you.” You pressed your hand on his chest, acting as if you were going to roll the two of you over.

“Nah,” Rhett grabbed your hand and laced his fingers between yours, “I can’t wait to be in you any longer. Been waitin' too many weeks for this.” You rolled your hips up, feeling Rhett’s clothed cock press against your cunt. A groan rumbled in Rhett's throat while he captured your lips with his. One of his hands snaked down between the two of you, pushing his boxers down.

A moan passed your lips when you felt his cock rest against your pussy. Rhett haphazardly pushed his boxers all the way off. You brought your hand down to wrap around his cock. He groaned at the few strokes you gave him before you guided the tip to your entrance. Rhett propped himself up, looking down at you as his hips pushed forward.

Rhett watched as your jaw went slack. The stretch of his cock was intoxicating, filling you up the more his hips pushed forward. Your eyes never left Rhett's, warm oases welcoming you. A small whimper left Rhett once he bottomed out. Your warmth encapsulated him, letting him know this was where he was meant to be. Rhett eventually broke the stare, nuzzling down into your clavicle. Small kisses were peppered all over your skin.

Rhett dragged his hips back a little, slowly pushing forward the small amount. The sensation already had your body shivering with pleasure. Rhett started slowly rolling his hips, wanting to savor the moment as much as possible. He knew that the chances of this activity happening again were high, but he just needed for this moment to last. You wrapped one arm around Rhett's left shoulder, threading your fingers into his hair once more. Your other hand rested on the front of his chest.

"God, you're perfect." Rhett groaned, placing kisses along your neck and jawline. He knew sex would be special with you, but life-changing wasn't what he was expecting. The way your body reacted to every small touch had Rhett teetering on the edge of climax already.

"Rhett, I-" You couldn't finish the sentence, to caught up in the waves of pleasure flowing through you.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Rhett pulled back to look down at you, cupping the side of your face. "Tell me."

"Harder."

Rhett pulled back, leaving just the tip inside of you. He kept his eyes on your face as he slammed back in hard. Your whole body reacted, back arching while your hands scrambled for purchase. Your mouth was agape as sinful sounds poured from it. Rhett kept this steady pace of hard thrusts, giving you exactly what you wanted.

"Oh fuck, Rhett!" The head of his cock pounded into the sensitive spot inside of you. Every time he hit it, a new jolt of pleasure ran through you. The coil in your lower abdomen was tight, about ready to snap and send you over the edge. You could tell Rhett was getting close too, harder breaths coming from him. Rhett didn't say a word, his hand moving between the two of you to rub your clit. That's when it was game over.

The combination of his fingers on your clit and powerful thrusts sent you tumbling over the edge. Pleasure washed over your nerves, Rhett’s finger still working your clit. Rhett groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. His thrusts started to stutter, focusing on the feeling of your walls working his cock. Crescent shapes formed in Rhett’s skin, your nails digging harshly as he kept your orgasm going.

“Fuck, sweetheart. The way you feel,” Rhett pressed his forehead to yours, “I ain’t gon’ last.” You nodded as you stared into his eyes. It was Rhett’s turn for his mouth to be agape, groans and heavy breaths coming from him. Your fingers threaded into Rhett’s hair once more, pulling him down to the nuzzle against your clavicle. Rhett felt safe with you, rutting into your warmth that he had craved for weeks. It was a sense of security, something he had never truly felt in his life.

“Fuck, I love you.” Rhett whispered against your skin.

“I love you too, Rhett.” With those four words and his name he was gone. His hips steadied as he thrusted into you one last time. Small kisses littered your collarbones as he kept his hips tight to yours, spilling his cum inside of you.

The two of you laid there for sometime, Rhett still slotted between your thighs as your fingers traced small circles on his shoulder blades. He traced a small pattern along your side, basking in the subsiding afterglow. That sense of security was blanketed over him. He never wanted it to end, wanting to feel this safe forever. A part of him wondered how he had never felt it before but he knew why. He hadn’t had you before. Not just in a sexual way, but he had never fully experienced this kind of love. The love that let him know he was always welcome. Always loved.

“Hmm?” You questioned, sensing a tiny shift in his demeanor. It wasn’t a bad shift, something much softer than what you thought Rhett might be capable of.

“Nothin’, I just..” Rhett propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. Your beauty was something Rhett could still marvel at. Like watching the early morning sun rise. “You make me feel something.” Small butterflies could be felt in your stomach.

“Feel what?” Rhett smiled, pushing some hair back from your face.

“Welcome.” A kiss. “Safe.” Another kiss. “Happy.” Another kiss. “Loved.” A final kiss. A warmth had raised into your cheeks. The smile on his face was one that was pure. The two of you stared at each other for a few more moments, just taking one another in. Rhett shifted, pulling himself out of you. Even though he was softened it still felt like you were losing something. Rhett moved to the spot on the bed next to you. You rolled on your side to look at him, letting out a soft noise as his cum started leaking out of you.

“We should clean up and talk.” The look he gave you was one full of sincerity.

“Talk about what?” You questioned. You used a playful tone to mask the tiny amount of anxiety you suddenly had. Rhett must have noticed because he cupped your cheek when he sat up.

“Don’t worry,” he pressed a kiss to your nose, “it’s nothin’ bad, mouse.”

The two of you made your way to the bathroom. Rhett used a warm washcloth to clean himself up, you sitting on the toilet watching him. It was domestic, something you could get used to. Might even let him clean you up the next time. Rhett kissed your forehead before heading back to the bedroom, letting you finish using the toilet and cleaning up.

Rhett had climbed under the comforter when you got back, his boxers being the only thing he wore. He was checking his phone briefly before looking at you, placing his phone on the side table. You moved to your dresser, grabbing a large t-shirt from the drawer. You didn’t bother with any underwear, climbing into bed and curling up next to Rhett. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close.

“So-”

“I th-” The both of you stopped and giggled. Rhett motioned for you to go first.

“I was just gonna ask what you wanted to talk about.” Rhett nodded, thumb rubbing softly on your skin.

“I want to talk about us.” Rhett was never great with conveying his emotions through words.

“What about us?” You teased. Rhett rolled his eyes.

“About how I want to,” Rhet paused for a moment, “want to be with you.”

“Rhett, you ju-”

“No,” Rhett bite his lower lip, “I want you more than physically. I want to be with you all the time.” You knew what he was asking of you. It was funny to watch him still beat around the bush after everything.

“Rhett, I’m not quite sure what you’re asking me.” You said with a smirk. He rolled his eyes once more, letting out a sigh.

“You really gon’ make m-” Rhett was cut off by you pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Rhett, I want to be with you too.” Rhett smiled as he kissed you again. His arms wrapped around you completely, rolling the two of you over. He peppered you with kisses, happiness spreading over the both of you. Rhett couldn’t be happier with you, happier with his little bookmouse.

[faeriekit]

PRIDE stuff I recommend incorporating into a library/school storytime if your community is mildly uncomfy confronting that sometimes two men kiss, go!

Find a book that has a tangible story to it! For this storytime, I used Subway Baby, which is explicitly about two men who have a child together, but is more about the discovery of the child at a subway station in NYC and the process it takes to becomes a family. Heartwarming, a real story that happened to real people, and takes place in a familiar setting (for a bunch of NJ kids.) Another book I might use in place of this would be a book like Julián and the Wedding, which is about attending a wedding with two brides, but is centered instead in a story about what to wear to a wedding (and all the silliness fancy clothes cause.)

You can also pick books that aren't explicitly queer, even when the topics are: Except When They Don't, Fred Gets Dressed, and Princess Kevin are all titles that toy around with gender presentation and clothing without explicitly making the story about gender, making it obvious that 1) clothing is silly and 2) you should do what makes you happy. A boy is a princess. A girl is a football star. Your friends are astronauts dinosaur cowboys who live on Mars! All is well, be happy being you.

USE THE FLAGS! Every stripe has a meaning! Teaching the kids what every stripe in a flag stands for, and how to relate it to their own life makes the sight less intimidating and something more familiar. Since I read for real real real little ones, it's also a great chance to practice color recognition with them lol. "What color is this? Wow, you're so smart! This color stands for THIS big word, which means (longer explanation.)" I use this in Pride-Specific storytimes so there's a break between books.

Make the storytime about pride! ...No, like the emotion. Unless the kids have out people active in their life from a young age, they're probably not going to immediately understand what Queer and Pride and Gay and Trans and LGBT+ are or how they relate to them or each other or the fact that they could discover stuff about themselves later on in life...dumb it down. At most storytime ages, they're still in the process of building their self image and sense of well-being. Being proud is about being happy with yourself and what you do. You're a cool kid, and you should get to celebrate all the things about your life that you love! I ended my Pride storytime with teaching kids a new big word: ✨affirmations✨. Say one nice thing about yourself! This is something nice I say about you! Parents, affirmations are a great way to build self confidence and practice big vocab words. Try them out at home, reciting them in the mirror or putting them on stickey notes around the house.

Decorate your reading space. Hehehehehe rainbows 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 No, seriously. The more fun the room is, the friendlier the topic feels.

And, of course, I end all storytimes with a hi five and good word to the kids' adults. Kid was energetic? They were so fun and excited today! Kid was zoned out? They were so well behaved! Two things can simultaneously be true.

Tips for non-librarians: for the coolest lgbt kids books, they're hiding in the nonfiction section. Seriously. Books about Gilbert Baker sewing the first flag and Marsha P Johnson and Stonewall and lgbt history around the world... In Nonfic. LAME. BOO. MOVE THEM TO MY COLLECTION INSTEAD HELLO. I WANT THEM. *grabby hands*

[rogueddie]

Sanctuary Prompt for strangerthings-a-side's aromantic visibility week, day 2: Library AU

Sat in Max's hospital room, listening to Lucas reading books aloud for her, felt like the only place that Erica could find any safety in the aftermath of Vecnas victory.

Even when Max woke, blind and confused, Lucas kept reading to her. The stories offered an escape, and Lucas' voice helped keep her grounded. Helped her keep positive.

Lucas is ok, and that was the thing Erica cared about most in those moments.

It wasn't until the next year that they would finally defeat Vecna, until they finally started the slow and arduous task of rebuilding Hawkins from the ground up.

Almost everything had been destroyed in the fighting.

Including the library.

Thinking of those days in the hospital, in those quiet moments when she was finally able to find peace through Lucas and his books...

She insisted on doing anything and everything she could to help rebuild the library. She was volunteering as soon as it opened.

The head librarian often joked about how she was going to take his job one day.

She didn't think he was serious. But, as soon as she turned twenty, he sat her down in his office and explained how the transfer will work.

"I'm old," he told her. "I've done all I can for this place. I can't think of anyone better for the job."

Erica thrived as the head librarian. Having the authority to finally make changes that she's been thinking about feels more like relief than a pressuring position.

None of the issues she assumes to occur ever come around either.

"You're such a pretty young woman," one of the women she works with comments, patting her arm. "Are you ever going to find yourself a man?"

"No," Erica says. She barely looks away from the bookshelf she's organising. "All I need are my books. No man will ever make me this happy."

"Good for you," the woman chuckles. "Never disappointed, huh?"

"I guess," Erica shrugs. "I just don't want that type of love."

"That type?"

"Yeah. I love my family, especially my brother. His fiance always comes over with him too and she's actually cool. I got friends. Tina. I can't imagine needing anyone else."

The woman hums, going quiet for a moment, considering.

Erica almost forgets about her and the conversation for the rest of the day, continuing on with her daily routine.

It's not until the end of the day, as they're preparing to close the library, that she comes up again.

"Sorry if this is crossing a line," the woman starts, before gently putting a little book on the desk. "But you fought hard to get this book in here..."

"I'm not gay."

"Oh. You're not?"

"No. I don't like either."

She frowns, looking down at the book. "Is that something in here?"

"Maybe. I don't know, and I don't care."

"Of course not," the woman huffs, smiling. "Well, as long as you're happy."

"Yes... yes, I really am."

[dearmantis]

Written Love

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Reader

Summary: As the librarian of the Grand Palace library, you're expected to take care of the books, maps, letters and other documents stored there. You don't expect the General of the Second Army to show up randomly and ask you for a book recommendation.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.4k

Authors' Note: Technically this isn't really fem!Reader but there's a part that kind of makes more sense with a fem!Reader which is why it's tagged that way, just fyi. I just want to be safe here and not disappoint anyone. The library is also inspired by the library in my home town which is huge but also very chaotic with shelves standing around everywhere, forming what's basically a big labrinth. It's really cool, honestly. This is also not edited and I'm not a native English speaker.

You smile when your eyes find him, quietly walking through the entrance of the big library, finger gliding along the spines of the many books resting in the shelves as he takes his first steps into the labyrinth of bookcases. He looks at peace here, you think.

On the few occasions where you have seen him outside of your little domain, his muscles had been tense, his jaw clenched and a cold, sharp look on his face, eyes as dark as the fold itself.

But now he looks kind. Kind and sweet and good, even in his dark, scary clothes, his big, heavy boots and bulletproof kefta. He doesn't carry himself as if his whole body is one big weapon anymore. He always takes time to speak with you when he visits, soft spoken and polite as he asks you about your day, the books you read and your work in general.

And other than the other Generals he respects the system after which the books are sorted. He puts everything back where he finds it, brings the materials he borrows back before the due date with no exceptions, and he is quiet, steps always immediately decreasing in volume as soon as he walks through the doors of your library.

Well, it's not your library, technically, but it's close enough. It's not like the king, queen or their children ever made a singular step on the dark wooden floors you sweep twice a day. No, it's just him and the other members of court who visit you.

You don't know why General Kirigan visits though. You've seen the library of the Little Palace on a few different occasions now and it's quite beautiful there. While it's definitely smaller than the library of the Grand Palace you don't think it's lacking in anything.

A part of you is tempted to compare the inventory list of the library in the Little Palace with the borrowing history of the Shadow Summoner, but you can never bring yourself to actually do it. It feels like a violation of his privacy, and what would you even do if you found out that he's borrowing books he could get in his own library here from you? It's not a crime to prefer the Grand Palace library after all, and you do have a much larger variety of books here.

And in the back of your mind there's a quiet voice, whispering that he may be coming here for you, and you fear that the voice will get louder if you choose to compare the lists and find out that he does in fact borrow books from here that he could get in the library of the Little Palace. It's a selfish, foolish thought you shouldn't entertain, but it's also the only explanation that really makes sense. The only clear differences between the Grand Palace library and the Little Palace library is the amount of books and you, and if he's not here for the books-

"Excuse me?" Your gaze finds the eyes of a young servant girl who hesitantly smiles at you. "Could you help me find a book? One of the guests has asked for a copy of Epitome Astronomiae Copernicanae. He says he has unfortunately forgotten his own copy at home and desperately needs it if he's supposed to present his own observations and research at court tomorrow."

Mirroring her smile you nod, opening the folder you use to keep track of all the books, maps and other materials currently outside of the library and placing it on the desk in front of you, before waving your hand to silently ask her to follow you.

Back when you were new here you had a small little map scribbled on a thin piece of paper that you carried everywhere with you, showing where exactly all the categories of books are positioned, but after several years here you know every shelf like the back of your hand. There's not a single book in this gigantic library that you can't locate in thirty seconds maximum, so the little scrap of paper got to retire.

Quickly moving between the many shelves you have to force yourself to slow down a bit to make sure the woman doesn't get lost on the way, waiting a few seconds every time you walk around a new shelf to make sure she can catch up, until the bookcase you're looking for is finally in sight.

You're so deeply focused on finding the book quickly that you don't even notice that someone else is standing two shelves next to this one, your eyes glued to the spines to find the fight title.

"It should be... ah! Here it is." It's a beautiful book, with carefully dyed dark blue leather binding, its title painted on in silver ink. It's so beautiful you could swear that a Fabrikator must've gotten their hands on it at some point in its creation. Slowly pulling it out of its designated place in the shelf you give it to the servant girl.

You're about to walk her back to your desk to fill out the required documents when a voice behind you stops you.

"I'm sorry, could you please help me find a book?"

Whirling around you almost freeze in place when you realise the person who asked for your help is none other than General Kirigan himself, the man himself standing a few metres away from you, spine straight and shoulders stiff in the way you've seen him act outside of the library.

How odd. I thought the library brings him comfort?

"Oh, of course! Uh..." Eyes darting between the General and the Servant for a few seconds, the young woman frees you from your predicament with another kind smile.

"I think I can find my way back to the desk on my own. If I have any trouble filling out the documents myself I will wait for you, alright?"

Nodding quickly you wave as she leaves, before turning back around to the Shadow Summoner, who's now patiently waiting a few steps away from you.

"Alright, General, what can I assist you with? Which book are you looking for?"

His gaze visibly softens, muscles slowly relaxing until he's no longer standing straight like a candle. He finally looks like the version of him you're used to again.

"I'm looking for a novel."

"A novel?" You echo, unable to stop yourself in time. "The novels are in a different corner of the library. What exactly are you looking for?"

He smiles slightly, hand moving to the back of his neck as if he's a bit embarrassed by the answer. "I would like a recommendation from you, actually."

It takes you a few seconds to register what he said. It's quite literally the last thing you expected to hear from the man.

"A recommendation?" you echo quietly, frowning, and watch as he nods.

"You spend all day around these books, and every time I'm here you're reading. I can't imagine anyone else being a better source for book recommendations than you."

To hide the bashful smile sneaking its way onto your lips you turn around, asking him to follow you as you lead him to the other side of the enormous library. This time you don't feel the need to slow down as you walk around the labyrinth of shelves, the General's long legs making sure that he's never far behind you, no matter how quick you are. You already know which book to give him, despite how sure you are that it's not going to agree with his own taste in literature.

When you finally stand in front of the right bookshelf you don't even have to look around to see where the book is, eyes automatically moving to the familiar leather bound object. "I don't think you're the type of person to be interested in this type of stuff, but it is my favorite book, so..." You whisper, more to yourself than to him, carefully pulling the book out of the shelf.

"Oh? Why is that?" the General asks, eyebrows lifting curiously.

You can feel how the apples of your cheeks heat up when you realise that he heard what you said. "Well... uhm. It's just...". It's hard to find the right words, the risk that he's going to take your comment as an insult a bit too big for your comfort. "I don't think you'd enjoy things like silly love stories."

"Silly love stories?" The General sounds scandalised, but there's an amused glimmer in his eyes that calms you down before you get a chance to start panicking.

Humming quietly you nod, holding the book out to the General. "Don't misunderstand me. I think everyone deserves to lose themselves in sweet stories, but you don't seem like the type of person to agree with my mindset. If I had to guess, I would say you're the type of man who thinks all of this soft stuff is just an unwanted distraction from the war."

He purses his lips, eyes focused on the book cover you're still holding out to him, before he carefully reaches out and removes the book from your grasp to open it and read the first page.

"What is it about? I mean, besides the love story. What is the conflict?"

When you take a few seconds to answer him his dark gaze moves to meet yours again, eyebrows slowly lifting as he waits for you to summarise the plot.

"It's, uhm..." Turns out simply recommending someone your favourite book is one thing, while actually having to summarise it to explain why they should read it is an entirely different issue. You're not sure if you can find the right words to explain the plot without sounding like a foolish, overly romantic idiot.

"It's about a servant, Sophie, and a member of the royal court who fall in love." You don't specify that the servant's love interest is technically a General. "So it's mainly about that and the taboo aspect of it, but there's also a whole war going on that is quite important in the majority of the book. It would probably be more accurate to say that it's a political drama with a romance subplot, but I loved the romance so much that it overshadowed everything else in the story for me."

When you finally finish your explanation he has that soft smile on his lips again and a warm feeling starts to become noticeable in your chest.

"Why would I not like a political drama with an outstanding love story subplot?" The shadow summoner asks.

"Well, like I said. I didn't think you would be someone who'd enjoy the love story aspect much, and I think that's what makes this book better than a lot of other political dramas."

The General looks at you for a few seconds, deep in thought, before he closes the book and starts to look through the shelves.

You want to ask him if you can help him find what he's looking for, but he holds his hand up to silence you before you even get the chance to open your mouth, as if he already knows what you were about to say.

"It should be here somewhere..." he murmurs, more to himself than to you, a deep frown on his face.

It takes a bit but after a few seconds the serious look on his face turns back into the smile you love, his hand moving to pull one of the books out of the shelf. When he holds it out for you to take there's a boyish glimmer in his eyes, a spark of excitement that you usually see in children, and you wish you could immortalise it somehow, keep it alive in this sad, tragic world. It feels special to see this type of expression on the usually cold and distant face of the Darkling. Like the Saints gave you a special gift, just for you to keep safe and cherish.

Carefully taking the book out of his hands you let your gaze glide over the ink-black leather cover for a few seconds, fingers tracing the silver drawing of a crescent moon on the front, before you open the book and begin to skim the first page.

"This is my favourite love story." he explains before you even get a chance to question why he has given you this book in particular. "This is the story of Andrei and Isolde. Andrei moves around the country, from town to town, to hide the fact that he is an immortal beast, cloaked in the skin of a human. In one of those towns he pretends to be a Prince from a foreign country and meets Isolde, a clever woman who works as a seamstress. He asks her to make him a cloak for the upcoming winter, and during the weeks she spends working on it, she begins to uncover what Andrei truly is."

Your eyes widen a bit, intrigued by the premise. "What is Andrei?"

He laughs lightly, a sound that reminds you of cold nights during the winter, drinking warm tea and reading a nice book. "You will have to read the story to figure that out."

Closing the book again you move to press it tightly against your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself in the process to stop yourself from nervously playing with your fingers, trying to force the words out before you end up wasting this glorious opportunity. Your mind is racing but this is a chance, an opening, the possible start of something new.

"How about we read each other's book recommendations and then meet up again to talk about it?" you propose, voice a bit too quiet and anxious for your liking. The General is silent for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowing slightly, and you're suddenly very sure that you have misread his softness towards you. That his kindness has just been simple politeness and he has absolutely no interest in spending time with a servant below his own social standing.

"Like a date?" he asks, and before you can get a chance to give into your fear and backtrack, he nods, the smile on his lips widening into a full grin. "I think I would enjoy that, yes. I will try to keep my schedule free for... let's say next week?"

You can't stop yourself from beaming up at him, the happiness you feel rushing through your body like a wave. "That sounds great. I can't wait to start reading. A love story recommended by you can only be fantastic."

"I hope the book brings you as much joy as it has brought me. I'm curious to hear your thoughts on Andrei."

"And I can't wait to hear what you think of Sophie."

[fictional-library-tournament]

Prelims round 1, poll 19

Propaganda

Scarlet Devil Mansion Library, Touhou:

It's said to have books of all kind, in thousands of different languages, and about countless different things. Some of the books were written by the librarian herself, Patchouli Knowledge. The was also probably one of the first recognizable set pieces in the windows touhou games, being the fourth stage in it's introductory game.

The Lines Between, Dimension 20: Neverafter:

Contains all versions of every story ever written, told, or imagined - free existential horror with every checkout!

"You're nothing more than scratches of ink on someone else's piece of paper."

The Lines Between is a massive place between stories, and staffed by diverse and deific librarians who are just doing their best, such as Glossary, Key, Legend and Index. The library is physically made of books, scrolls, and parchment. Its areas include the Hall of Stories, the Canonade, the Tower of Tales, and perhaps most remarkably: a brilliant view of the Auroratory. It is a beautiful aurora borealis of voices, preserving auratory stories that aren't necessarily written down. It is possible to swim up and into the Auroratory.

Fort Maria Library, Star Sable Online:

(All images come from ssoblr users)

So this is not necessarily a public library and it was abandoned for a long time (as far as we know) but the druids have it up again recently in game. It was built as part of Fort Maria centuries ago by the time of the game, and holds books from all those eras.

It is a gorgeous and expansive place with secret passageways, rare tomes, fluffy seats, old abandoned research, a lot of study areas, old relics, a moving bookcase to a portal cavern and even its very own library ghost!

It is, in my opinion, one of the most atmospheric places in the game. Even without sound on it is gorgeous and bring across its intention incredibly well, and with the sound on it is incredibly eerie. The music here is very limited and quiet, and the player’s footsteps echo through the library.

I feel like whatever you’re researching, you will find something on it in here. It feels like a place you could spend your whole life reading in, and still only have read a tiny fraction of the books there.

the citizens of jorvik (fictional star stable online island) keep all the witchcraft books in there and all their super secret and cool magic books, it was closed for years and it's very mysterious. one of the coolest characters (mrs. holdsworth) in the whole game hangs out there a lot, and it's home to a cute little capran named beatrix and she took her name from her favorite book. the only way you get in the library is by feeding her snacks and reading her books and she's also one of the coolest characters in the game (imo). also beatrix is friends with one of the horses in the game and she often is seen playing with the horse so :) OH and also there's a full heckin portal room in the lower floor!!! with a little pond and a portal that at some point the main characters (the "soul riders") get kicked in by the evil guys (the "dark riders") into this place called devil's gap (despite the name there's just one witch basically vibing in the gap potentially helping out the evil guys but we haven't figured that out yet). and it's gorgeous, if you're worrying about looks. the inside is all wooden and home-y and the portal room is also very pretty eye candy, it's very glow-y.

Bookholm, The City of Dreaming Books by Walter Moers

None

[literaticat]

I know no author HAS to be on social media. But it seems like the most tenacious ones are active online in some way. If I'm a painfully shy person who is socially awkward-- could that be a potential roadblock for an author career? 

First off: LOTS and LOTS of authors are "painfully shy and socially awkward." That's OK. Don't borrow trouble. Having a career as an author is already hard. There are LOTS of potential roadblocks out there. I'd suggest you not look for extra roadblocks to put in your own way. :-)

You don't need to worry about promoting your book if you don't even have a book. So if you want to get to a place where that's even a concern you MIGHT have, you start by doing the actually most important part: Write a great book. Then revise and polish it. Then look for an agent, or whatever your next step is. Etc. Just go step by step.

By the time you actually have a publisher and know that your book is really really coming out, a couple of things might have happened: The social media landscape might be totally different than it is today. And, more crucially, YOU might be different. I'm willing to bet that during this long process, where you wrote and then dug into this great book and got to craft and know everything about it, going step by step, you will have then had to talk to agents, then editors, then sales people, booksellers, other authors, etc about it. You will have interacted with increasing numbers of scary strangers lovely new people in a safe way, and realized that actually, book people are pretty much uniformly nice, they all LIKE you and your book, and you will at least feel pretty confident when you are talking about books, and your own work. You're probably never going to become an extrovert, or suddenly want to take on Open Mic nights at the Comedy Store -- but you'll be able to get through a normal business phone call or zoom, or quick back-and-forth email/text convo about book stuff, without really even thinking about it. You just WILL. I promise.

So then, at some stage, before your book comes out, whatever "social media" looks like at that time, you get a little account, and follow some of these folks. Follow your publisher and agent, as applicable, and authors you admire, and booksellers and librarians you meet along the way, and people who are interesting to you. Participate a little. If your friend is having a book launch, you can post about it. If you read a great book, post about it. If somebody says something funny or cool, like it. If somebody you like posts great news or an awesome review of their book, congratulate them. Take a cute picture of your pets. Then when YOUR book is coming out, you can add in talking about that as well, a little, and your buddies will like and post about that, too, because you are nice, and they are nice, and they like your book. And when YOU have good news or a book launch or a nice review, other people will congratulate YOU.

Aim for 15 minutes a day, just dip in and out. Think of it like the water cooler at work. When you work hard, it's NICE to take a break and catch up with your writerly colleagues for a few minutes here and there. You're not looking to be a Social Media Superstar or Influencer. The water cooler is NOT your job. But, just like when you work at an office, it's nice to be able to take a break, have a little corner of the internet where you can feel comfortable enough to wander over from time to time, share fun news or things that are interesting to you, briefly see what's up with your colleagues that day, share a laugh, or whatever, then go back to your desk to work. No stress.

If you can manage that (and I suspect you'll be able to!) -- well, you'll be in the top 50% of authors on social media without even trying too hard. And if you really can't manage it -- well, hey, you tried, it's not for you, at least make sure your website stays updated.

[cherryrainn]

Greedler x fem! reader (romantic) whose is a librarian who is reading children's books to children and wears contact lenses to hide that she wears glasses and is very insecure? (she is a redhead and shorter than him)

You can use "Enchanted-Taylor Swift" for inspiration :) thxxxx

https://youtu.be/igIfiqqVHtA

━━ ✧ 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; greedler (onceler) + you

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; absolutely! thanks for your request

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; none

─ ✩ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 ; here

the library was alive with the sound of children's laughter as you sat in a cozy corner, surrounded by a circle of wide-eyed kids. you held a colorful picture book in your hands, your voice gentle as you brought the story to life with animated expressions and playful tones. it was a scene that onceler couldn't help but find absolutely adorable.

he had been watching from a distance, his normally confident demeanor replaced with a softened expression as he witnessed you captivate the hearts of the young audience. your red hair caught the light in a way that made you seem like a character from one of the stories you were reading.

as the story came to an end, the children clapped excitedly, and you gave them a warm smile. onceler couldn't help but smile too, appreciating the genuine joy you brought to their faces.

after the kids had dispersed, he mustered up the courage to approach you, though his typically self-assured demeanor had a touch of awkwardness. leaning casually against a bookshelf, he remarked, "quite the storyteller you are."

you turned towards him, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "thank you," you said, your voice soft with a touch of shyness. "i love sharing stories with them."

onceler's gaze lingered on you, his usual cockiness giving way to a more genuine curiosity. "you know, i've never seen someone make a room full of kids so interested."

a small smile tugged at your lips, and you looked down at the ground for a moment before meeting his gaze. "well, i've always believed that stories have a special kind of magic. they can take you to different worlds and make you feel like anything is possible."

he nodded in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face. "you're right."

as your conversation continued, you found yourself opening up to onceler in a way you hadn't expected. he listened with genuine interest, asking questions that made you feel valued and heard. it was a stark contrast to the insecurities you often grappled with.

you shifted on your feet, a bit uncomfortable with the intensity of his attention. "i should get back to work," you said, attempting to break the spell his presence had cast on you.

but onceler's hand gently caught your arm, stopping you from leaving. "before you go, i have to say something." his tone was softer now, his eyes locked on yours.

your heart raced, unsure of what he was about to say. "what is it?"

he took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "your passion for stories, the way you light up when you talk to these kids—it's like you have your own kind of magic, it's super cool, just letting you know."

you felt a rush of warmth at his words, your insecurity momentarily forgotten. "thank you, onceler."

his fingers brushed against yours, a gentle and reassuring touch. "and i have another thing. so, i noticed the contact lenses." he smiled sheepishly. "but honestly, i think you're beautiful with or without them."

your cheeks flushed, but this time it was from a different kind of emotion. onceler's openness and sincerity had a way of melting away your doubts.

and as you stood there, lost in each other's eyes, you couldn't help but believe that maybe, just maybe, the most enchanting stories were the ones that unfolded in real life.

[helpwhatsthis]

the start (E.M.)

1982-1983

love divides pt.1 series masterlist

eddie munson x hopper! reader

“if we can’t go on, to survive the tide, love divides.” - separate way (worlds apart), journey (1983)

word count: 18k

this was a lot to edit, so there are probably mistakes! sorry!

warnings: ANGST!!! weed, alcohol, nicotine, language, vomit, attempted s.a., NO SMUT (obviously), bi eddie, hints at bi reader, litterally the sadest things i’ve ever written, both eddie and reader are underage in part one! let me know if there are any big ones i missed! this part does not have a happy ending! 

"can i please come in?" her voice is soft, so much so that he can barely hear her over the rain pounding on the trailer. 

1986:

she's drenched, makeup running messily down her puffy red face, and he wonders what's tears and what's raindrops. what the hell y/n? he knows he should be pissed, tell her to get fucked and just forget she was ever here. but he doesn't. he wraps his arm tightly around her and is astounded that after all this time she melts into him. 

"what the fuck happened to you sweetheart?" 

1982: 

it's your first day of freshman year, and while everyone else in your class is dying to get in the lunchroom and make friends with the upperclassmen, you are heading to the parking lot with a tattered copy of the scarlet letter that you had to practically beg the librarian for.

jonathan had left your side before first period had even started and you'd been running through the motions ever since. god you fucking hated the first day of school. but after three and a half hours of hell, you were finally getting some peace and quiet.

maybe.

"that other seat taken?" a voice rings through the formerly silent lot and you visibly flinch with annoyance. you look up and see a boy leaning on a van and looking at you with raised eyebrows. 

"uhm-" you start, not sure how to tell him to go fuck himself without being rude.

"i was only asking to be polite, it was my spot first, but I'll share." he states simply and you nod, looking back down at your book. 

you're looking at the pages for a minute at least, not really reading but too worried about looking back up at him. 

his hair isn't long, but definitely not trimmed or taken care of. he's wearing a t-shirt for a band you've never heard of and it leaves his long pale arms on display. 

"i'm eddie by the way." he breaks the tension and you sigh in relief, "eddie munson" he clarifies. when he hold his hand out, you shake it without hesitation. 

" y/n hopper." you reply and his eyes get wide. his hand stops moving and he grins.

"like, the chief hopper?" he asks and you nod in frustration. this was the same response you'd been getting all damn day. 

"that must be…" awesome, cool, interesting! were a few of the phrases you'd heard today before they inevitably started talking about him being a deadbeat drunk when they thought you weren't listening. 

"- a drag" he finishes and you're caught off guard at his bluntness. so much so that you can't suppress the small laugh that chokes its way up. 

"yeah, actually" you nod and give another small giggle. what the fuck was that sound? you scold yourself while he nods.

"I'm assuming you're a freshman?" he questions and you nod, to which he snorts. 

"Ah, well then, welcome to the shit show." he smiles and you break out into a fit of laughter that he matches. 

"I'm a junior, 16" he says, before you even have the chance to ask and you're quick to reply.

"I'm 14." you answer and he grimaced. you raise your brows for an explanation.

"shitty age for me" he shrugs and you respond with a silent 'oh'. 

you spend another twenty minutes talking to him before the bell rings, and even then he's showing you to your next class. it was the first one you haven't been late to all day. 

//

"what do you know about the munsons?" you ask your dad timidly. he'd insisted that you have dinner together to celebrate your first day of high school, much to your dismay. 

"which one? wayne or-" he starts and you quickly cut him off.

"eddie" you state simply and he looks up at you from his plate of spaghetti. 

"uh, got into some minor trouble in middle school for stealing and vandalism. but we kinda let it go after his dad ran out and left him with his uncle." 

you're nodding, trying not to seem too interested as you lazily move the noodles around your plate. 

"why?" he asks and you feel your chest tighten. 

"dunno" you shrug and hope it'll be the end of your conversation.

"you hear something?" hopper asks, continuing to eat.

"i met him, actually" you shrug and try to ignore the way he tenses.

 "is that a problem?" you ask after a few moments of silence. he starts to shake his head and your shoulders slump in relief. 

"no, of course not. just be careful y'know?" he looks at you, awaiting your answer but you continue to look at him confused. 

"he comes from a long line of violent weirdos, y/n. i'm not saying you have to hate him. just don't get too close." he explains and you're nodding quickly.

"you understand?" he prompts and you quickly agree. 

"i won't." you hum, continuing to eat.

but you do. 

\\

it's been three weeks since you first met eddie. you'd spent every lunch together either at the picnic table or in his van. 

you learned he's in a band, his dad left when he was fourteen, his mom when he was seven, he lived in the trailer park with his uncle wayne, and he smoked a fuck ton of weed. 

oh yeah, and his friends despise you.

it's a thursday, hopper is supposed to pick you up on thursdays because it's his day off. but it's been a little over twenty minutes since the last bell and you're huddled under the awning to hide from the rain. 

eddie is standing beside you, even though you told him he could go just about every five minutes since his friends had left. they'd been rolling their eyes at the way he insisted on staying with you until your dad arrived. 

he checks his watch and sighs. just as you're about to tell him to go again. that you'll wait a little longer or walk, he pulls your hood onto your head and trudges out into the rain holding your wrist. 

"what the shit!" you shriek when the rain starts thumping on your shoulders. 

"It's been half an hour, i'm taking you home." he explains as you both run up the hill to the parking lot, his hand still holding your arm. 

"you really don't have t-" a yelp escapes you as your feet give way to the mud under them. shit shit shit. you think, but eddie turns quickly and catches you by your elbows before you can hit the ground. 

he pulls you up and puts his arm around your shoulders, yours going around his back as he continues to trek up the hill. 

"shit, you're so helpless." he huffs in mild annoyance and your stomach drops. 

"am not" you protest as he unlocks the passenger side door and quickly ushers you in before running to the other side. 

"sure princess." he rolls his eyes and shuts his door. your stomach flips.

the first few minutes of the car ride are silent, not the comfortable relaxing kind you normally share with him. it's awkward, you've never been in the front seat, let alone while he's driving. 

"thank you for the ride." you finally whisper and he nods nonchalantly. you shut your eyes in frustration. shit please say something. 

he seems to pick up on your tension, like he always does, and reaches to turn up the radio. 

"oh hell yeah!" he shouts as the first cords of cherry bomb filter through the speakers. he turns the nob until the beats cause a small sting in your ears. 

when he starts dramatically drumming on the steering wheel you let out a small giggle. he turns his gaze to you questioningly. 

"you like the runaways?" you ask and he freezes, a small flush of embarrassment runs up his cheeks. 

"if you tell anyone, I'll kill you." he threatens and you start laughing. his own chuckled follow suite. "i'm serious!" he yells. 

when you don't answer, he reaches one hand over and starts to tickle your ribs. 

"i won't, i won't." you promise just as he swerves, you hold out your pinkie to him. he grins and he locks it with his own. 

the rest of the short car ride is spent singing and laughing, you almost wish you lived farther away. 

the rain has died down to a light mist, and just as eddie pulls up to your trailer your dad steps out of his bronco. shit.

you hadn't exactly told your dad you'd been spending so much time with eddie, opting to lie and say your weekends and lunches were spent with robin or johnathan. 

when eddie stops the van, hopper waits patiently for him to roll down the window. 

"heyy, chief hopper." eddies’ voice cracks as the words leave his mouth and you're digging your nails into your palm.

this is going to end so badly.

"thank you for bringing my daughter home, had some trouble at the station and couldn't be there on time." 

his words leave you in shock because holy shit why isn't he yelling at you? 

"of course, didn't wanna just leave her there." he laughs and hopper nods. 

"everything okay?" you ask and he huffs. 

"yeah, mrs driscoll just having another one of her fits." he says sadly, causing you and eddie to nod. 

"well uh, thanks again for the ride eddie." you smile awkwardly at him and he salutes you.

you're standing on the porch with your dad, watching eddie pull behind the trees down the long driveway when he finally speaks.

"well that's an interesting development." he scoffs and makes his way inside. shit.

//

he actually hadn't been mad once he found out you and eddie weren't dating. he knew wayne, knew he wasn't such a bad guy. he also thought eddie seemed nice enough to let you continue to hang around with him.

you were excited to tell eddie just how nerve wracking the whole experience had been as you march up to his van when the lunch bell rings. 

"of course you can come with, I just don't wanna watch you play babysitter all night." carter, one of eddies best friends, snaps crudely.

"what do you mean?" eddie asks defensively. you know it wrong to stand here and listen, but you were interested in where this was going. 

"he means don't bring that stupid freshie." donnie, a junior in your freshman math class, speaks up.

"yeah man, it's a drag. i don't even know why you hang out with her. she's a kid." says carter 

"and a cops’ daughter" donnie adds.

"she's chill, and fun to hang out with when i'm sick of you assholes." eddies explanation makes you stomach twist and your heart beat faster. 

"oh what the fuck ever, if you're gonna bone her then just do it already."  donnie exclaims.

"dude no, it's not fucking like that." he's quick to defend himself. "i don't see her like that… it's not like that at all." he sounds desperate for them to believe it. 

"sure man"

"fine, i'll tell her i have shit to do today." he promises them. 

"damn straight" carter replies, "we're gonna head out before she gets here" 

"why?" eddie asks softly.

"she's annoying as shit, man" donnie explains. you expect eddie to reply in your defense, to stick up for you. 

but he doesn't.

"i mean, i guess." his voice sounds guilty, but you don't even notice it over the way your blood begins to pound in your ears. 

you don't wait to hear anymore, turning around and hurrying back down towards the doors. 

you don't want to face any of your friends like this, moments away from tears. why do i care so much?  but you have no idea. no clue why it's so important what eddie and his friends think of you. 

you'd never had this feeling before. not when robins band friends called you weird, or when people called you a freak for hanging out with johnathan. not even when nancy told barb she should stop being friends with you. 

nancy fucking wheeler, who wasn't shit anyway. and you never gave a shit what she thought of you. 

so why did eddies opinion matter so much to you?

the tears start to fall just as you push open the doors of the empty gym. why does it feel like this? 

you hide under the bleachers and pull your knees to your chest. you try to breath, force yourself to be calm, but a sob rips from your throat. and when it does, the lights flicker. 

\\

it's been 2 days, a little over 48 hours since you last heard his voice. you'd sat with barb and nancy at lunch, and tonight you were going to robins’ after school. 

it was better than sulking in your room alone.

"so why are you coming to mine and not sitting outside eddies band practice." she seems genuinely curious, after spending the whole walk to the park complaining about her new marching band group. the "odd squad" made up of dash, kate, and milton.

"just wanted to hang out with you instead." your shrug is unconvincing and she tosses her bike down exasperatedly next to the swings. 

"that's bullshit." she states matter-of-factly. you know she’s right, but even worse, she knows she's right. she almost always is. "spill, now."

you plop down dramatically on a swing and groan. 

"his friends don't like me." is a simple statement, and coming from anyone else it would be completely reasonable. 

her eyes get wide as she sits in the swing next to you. she brought me here to interrogate me on purpose. the two of you always came to the park when you wanted to vent about your lives. 

"since when do you care about that?" she seems genuinely perplexed, me too. 

"no idea." you stare at the ground in front of you, lightly swaying your feet.

"wow, this is heartbreaking." she giggles, sarcasm laced into her tone. your eyes shoot up, glaring daggers at her. if looks could kill. 

"excuse me?" there's a bite in your voice, why are you being so defensive? 

"it's been like two weeks and you're in love with him." there's a bright smile on her face and humor behind her eyes. 

panic starts to build in your chest because, no, what the hell?

"no, absolutely not." your words come out in a rush and she smirks.

"first, no okay, just no. second, he's two years older than me. third, it's been three weeks. fourth, we're just friends." you can barely hear yourself speak, and you have no idea how robin catches any of it. 

"right, sure thing." she rolls he eyes and you let out a small 'hmph'. i don't like eddie.

right?

//

you didn't. you were adamant on the fact that you did not have any crush on eddie whatsoever. 

"where the shit have you been?" his voice rings out above the crowd fighting their way into the cafeteria. 

he grips your shoulder and spins you around, your heart already thumping harder in your chest. 

an excitement washes over you just by seeing him, just by a moment of his voice. 

nope, you're mad. remember?

"sorry, thought i'd give you a break from my annoying as shit-ness." there's more sarcasm in the single sentence than you think you've ever used in your life. and you were raised by jim hopper. 

his face morphs from confusion to guilt as he processes your words. 

it's been three days since he talked to you, two since he came to school excited to show you his first ever tattoo, and one since he realized there's probably something wrong.

after he had the realization on the drive home from carol's, which he'd never admit to anyone, it had consumed him. 

he hadn't heard of anything happening to your dad, so he'd crossed that out quickly. there also hadn't been any defieling news on the friends you'd told him about. 

he'd also never admit to anyone that he was fucking worried about you. 

“look it wasn’t like that princess.” he looks nerve wracked, something you’re not used to seeing on him. “i didn’t mean that, just wanted them to leave it alone.” he reasons, his eyes pleading. there’s a small pout to his features; he looks genuinely upset. 

goddamn him and his stupid face. 

“i’m still mad, but i don’t think i can stand another second of nancy staring at steve.” his eyes lighten up. “let’s go, i’m hungry.” 

you start walking to the doors that lead to the parking lot, not giving him a second look. he’s following behind you though, not missing a beat. 

you nearly puke on the blankets beneath you after taking a bite of your sandwich, spitting it out the door. 

“what’s wrong with it?” eddie asks across from you. 

“it’s supposed to be ham, but robins mom made it.” you explain, chucking it into the grass. he raises his eyebrows at you in question. “she’s a hippie.” you clarify. he starts laughing hysterically. 

“she must love you, being a cops’ daughter and all.” you laugh, recalling the way she’d gasped when you’d introduced yourself to her for the first time. 

“she feels bad for me.” you chuckle and eddie nods. it’s quiet for a moment; there's no sound except the breeze rustling the trees in the distance. 

“he likes you by the way.” you state offhandedly. “my dad.” 

“really?” the shock is evident on his face, a pretzel nearly falling from his mouth. 

“yeah, once he found out we weren’t dating.” you explain. “thinks you’re respectful or something.” you muse, causing his snort. 

“never thought the chief of police would find me respectful.” he says in disbelief and you agree. 

he shows you his new tattoo, playfully threatening to kick you out of the van when you tell him it looks like the bats from the intro to scooby-doo. within the thirty minute span, it’s as if the past three days hadn’t happened. 

you can barely remember what it feels like to be mad at him when he smiles at you like that. 

\\

it’s been almost four months since you met eddie. the two of you had spent nearly everyday with one another. 

it stopped being a shock to hopper to come home from a late night of work, seeing eddie sitting on the couch looking at the tv without really seeing it, you asleep on his lap. 

he’d started teaching you how to play guitar, taken you to your first party on halloween, and even had begun forcing his friends to include you. 

the last few months had been so good, you’d all but stopped hearing the droning thoughts of hawkins residents as you drifted to sleep. it’s was easier to keep others' thoughts out when he was playing with your hair. 

“i should probably go, it’s getting late.” he thinks out loud, patting your ankle that’s spayed across his thighs. 

“isn’t your heat out at home?” you ask, your voice groggy. he smiles at your concern and shrugs. 

“it’s not a big deal hun.” he shakes his head, trying to get you to lay back down and stop worrying. 

“just stay here for the night, kid.” your dad offers, finishing the can of beer in his hand. 

“oh no, i couldn’t impose.” he says quickly, but hopper shakes his head. 

“eddie it’s freezing.” you try to persuade, but he’s not having it. 

before he can act though, your dad is up. he grabs eddies keys off the counter and starts to walk toward his room. 

“pull the spare mattress from under your bed for him.” he instructs, and you're heading towards your room in seconds. 

you pull the mattress out just as he walks in; he’s rolling his eyes as you throw blankets and pillows onto it.

“thank you, brat.” he beams, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

oh yeah, one more thing. you had fallen inexplicably in love with him. something you had finally admitted to yourself on halloween night. 

you had been high, about to throw up, and he’d left to take you home. even though he was having a good time, even though his friends and the people he was dealing to were pissed, even though you know he probably didn’t want to. 

you’d been sitting in the passenger seat, head lulling against the window, when the song ‘eddie my love’ started playing on the radio. you’d gasped, which quickly turned into a fit of giggles when he rolled his eyes. 

but singing the lyrics made it feel all too real all of a sudden. you’d jerked your door open and threw up. 

“shit sweetheart, are you okay?” he’d panicked, while you sat hunched, trying to breathe. 

“you left me last september to return to me before long, but all i do is cry myself to sleep, eddie since you’ve been gone.” 

he’d carried you in the house to bed, giving you a mint and a glass of water. 

“just sleep it off, princess. you’ll feel better in the morning.” he promised. he’d stayed with you all night, rubbing your scalp and quieting the little cries you made in your sleep. 

1983:

it’s january now, the fuzzy lining of eddies’ big jean jacket protecting you from the bite of the wind. 

you’re walking around a mall in kentucky with eddie, donnie, carter, and carters’ girlfriend, olivia. she actually seemed to like you in the short amount of time you’d gotten to know her. 

“c’mon!” she gasps, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to a rack of prom dresses. you sit on a bench and watch her look through them, holding the ones she liked so she could try them on.  

“oh my god, this would look so pretty on you.” she gawks, pulling one out. 

“i can’t go to prom, i’m a freshman.” you remind her, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your voice as you speak to the senior. 

“you can go if you’re invited.” she explains and you laugh. 

“yeah but what are the odds of-”

“i’ll take you.” eddies’ voice cuts off your own from behind you. he comes up and hands you a slushy. 

he can’t be serious. you think; the look on the other boys' faces show that they’re thinking it too. you’d never voluntarily put on a dress in your life. but as you look at the dress, something in you wants it. you can’t help but think the dark green fabric would complement your pale features. 

“really?” you ask shyly, taking a sip of the liquid sugar to hide the hope on your face. 

“duh, who else would go to prom with me.” he shrugs nonchalantly, looking at the dress in olivias’ hands. 

“here, i’ll help you try it on.” she smiles, taking your hand and leading you to the dressing room. 

the dress fits you like a glove, and she spins you to look in the mirror. holy shit. you feel so fucking pretty. 

her chin rests on your shoulder, a cheshire grin on her face. 

“you’re getting it.” he decides, grabbing your elbow and pulling you out the door. “boys! come here!.” 

they all turn to look at you; your whole body heats up in embarrassment. when eddies’ eyes land on your figure, he smirks and starts clapping. 

“you like it?” he asks, looking at you softly. you nod shyly and the goofiest smile breaks out onto his face. “looks like you’re going to prom.” 

you’re going to prom with eddie munson. 

you spend all the money hopper gave you for the day, and another fifteen from eddie buying the dress and green converse to match. olivia had wanted you to get heels, but eddie had scolded her. 

“one step at a time.” he chided, sensing your worry. 

you're in the passenger seat on the way home, much to donnies’ annoyance. 

“and now, the new hit single by journey: separate ways.” the radio host announces and you reach to turn it up. 

“they’ve been playing this damn song nonstop for the past two weeks.” carter groans. you know it’s true, you’ve heard it nearly once everyday since it came out. but you never tire of it. 

“i like it.” you defend and eddie smiles lightly. 

“you would.” donnie says sarcastically, followed by a loud ‘ow’ as olivia kicks him. 

when you walk in the door of the trailer, your dad is rushing around to get dressed. 

“what’s wrong?” you ask, grip on the shoe box tightening. eddie’s standing behind you, holding your dress wrapped in plastic. 

“forgot i had a date tonight.” he explains, then freezes mid-step. “what the hell is that?” he asks, pointing at eddie. 

“a prom dress…” you trail meekly. the anxiety quickly fades though when a bright smile stretches across his face. “you’re going to prom?” he muses. you nod and he chuckles. “and you’re wearing a dress?” he asks in disbelief. 

“yeah.” you reply softly. he looks up at eddie, whos nodding with a smirk. 

“good job.” he laughs, patting eddie on the arm. 

“what?” you say, confusion lacing your voice. 

“just never thought that would be your thing.” he shrugs. “what was i doing?” 

“your date.” eddie reminds him and he jerks into action.

“i can go to robins for the night.” you offer and he shakes his head. 

“no, you don’t have to do that.” he insists. eddie interjects. 

“you can stay with me if you want.” eddie suggests, looking at hopper for approval. 

“i mean you can if you want.” he answers. “but you don’t have to.” 

“i’ll put these away and get a bag.” you tell eddie quickly.

you’d been to eddies’ before, but never really long enough to look around. now, you're standing in front of a small sliver of his wall he’d devoted to postcards. he’s laying on his bed, head hanging off the end with a cigarette between his lips. 

“they’re from my aunt, well ex-aunt.” he explains, blowing smoke from his nose. “after her and my uncle got a divorce she started traveling a lot, and when my dad left she started sending me them.” the tone of his voice makes your chest tight. 

“that’s so sweet.” you hum back, trying to keep the topic away from his dad. he’d only ever told you about him in depth one time, during which he’d started crying. 

“yeah, she’s so nice. if she comes up in the spring i’ll introduce you to her.” you turn and smile at him, nodding softly. when you reach for the cigarette in his hand he jerks it away quickly. 

“no ma’am, weed is one thing. i’m not getting you started on these too.” he protests. 

“but you do it.” you argue back and he rolls his eyes.

“that’s because i have no regard for my own personal well being.” he responds, and it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “i don’t give a shit about what happens to me.” he shrugs. 

“i do.” you state; he grins. 

“fine.” he breathes out more smoke before sitting up and putting it out in the ashtray on his nightstand. “happy?” 

“a little.” you giggle and he does too. 

he reaches for the guitar at the end of his bed and pats his thigh when he settles back in place. you make your way to him, sitting on his lap facing away from him. you place your fingers on the cords without needing his guidance. you start strumming the notes of a song he’d taught you; he chucks softly. you can feel the vibrations of his laugh against your back.

“you're getting better.” he praises; your face grows warm. he places his chin on your shoulder as you continue to play. you fumble a few times, cursing slightly under your breath. he’d mutter a soft ‘s’okay’ before urging you to continue. 

when the tips of your fingers are red from the rough cords, he pulls the instrument from your grip and leans to put it back in place. when he’s done, he flops down on the bed, pulling you with him. 

your legs are tangled together, his arms around your waist. when his nose brushes the back of your neck you release a shaky breath. you lay there with him in silence, hoping to god he can’t hear how loud your heart is beating. 

even through your inner panic, it’s nice. it’s so relaxing to be in his arms. he invades every part of your senses. the only grounding you have is the weight of his arm across your body. 

“should probably go to bed.” he hums into your hair. you nod softly in agreement, beginning to crawl to the head of his bed. 

//

the fluorescents burn your eyes as they focus on the paper in front of you. the scraping of metal on linoleum pulls your eyes up to the doctor sitting across from you. 

“you’re excelling, y/n” he states. it should make you feel better, but it doesn’t. “you’re smarter than the others.” you shrug.

something isn’t right, you have a strange sense of deja vu. ‘i’ve lived this before.’ your mind rings. you look down at your hands, so pale the skin is practically translucent. 

“hell, you’re smarter than most fully grown adults.” he explains further. you look back at the photo in front of you. “that’s why we want you to do this.” 

“do what?” you ask timidly, mind fuzzy. 

“this man, he’s trying to bring down everything we’ve worked to build. he won’t hurt a child though. if he breaks in, we need you to be the one to kill him.” 

you stare intensely at the photo, an i.d. photo of an nypd officer. 

“no.” the statement is simple; his face screws up in disappointment. 

“y/n-” he starts.

“no, i won’t do it.” you protest. the lights flicker and he shakes his head. 

there’s a harsh crackling behind you and you instinctively wince. 

“don’t make it harder than it has to be.” he threatens. you lean forward, glaring into his eyes. 

“no.” your small voice comes out as a growl. 

but now you're screaming, begging the hash electricity burning your back to just stop. it doesn’t it never does. 

you’re pulled from your sleep by your own scream. eddie is up in less than a second, pulling you up and examining your figure. 

your whole body is shaking, tears running down your face. 

“oh baby, come here it’s okay.” he tries to shush your sobs as he pulls you up into his chest. you can barely breath, your airway constricting with every attempt. “it’s okay, it was just a nightmare.” 

there’s fear in his voice, but you can’t even feel bad with the way your lower back is throbbing. you continue to gasp for breath in his chest, fingers gripping tightly to his shirt. your tears have created a large wet spot on his shirt, but he doesn’t care. 

“it’s okay princess, you’re here with me. you’re safe here with me.” he coos, hands running up and down your back. when his fingertips brush the spot that’s burning you give a sharp cry that has him jerking his hand back. you continue to cry and he lifts the hem of your shirt in confusion. 

he can see your skin is darkly flushed, little scars littering the area. he experimentally runs the tip of his pinky over one. it’s puffy and pushing away from the rest of your skin. you let out another loud whine, body jerking away from the contact. 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry honey.” he apologizes profusely, dropping the fabric in his hand and going back to comforting you. 

you sit in his arms for nearly half an hour. you’re still trembling and you’ve barely stopped crying when you pull your head back to look at him. his head tilts to the side, examining you with concern like a puppy. 

“i’m really sorry.” you croak out with embarrassment. 

“no, it’s okay princess.” he promises. he sees that you’re covered in sweat and still slightly shaking. “let me get you some water.” 

he begins to pull away, but you hold him tighter and cry out again. a jar full of weed on his nightstand shatters, causing you both to gasp and grip one another. you watch it, something distant in your eyes that fills him with worry. after a moment, both of his hands find the hem of your damp shirt again. 

“can i?” he whispers, eyes meeting your own briefly. you finally notice the wetness clinging to you uncomfortably. you nod solemnly, lifting your arms. 

he pulls the garment off slowly, trying not to hurt you. he tosses the shirt to the floor and looks back at you, sitting in his lap in only your bra and sleep shorts. an ache fills his chest. he wishes he could just make your shaking stop, even for a second. 

he pulls you back down into a lying position, one hand cradling your head in his chest while the other rubs small circles on your back below your bra strap. even with distance, he can feel an intense heat radiating from the red part below. 

“you’re always safe with me princess.” he breathes as your eyes flutter shut, falling into a peaceful sleep. 

when you wake again, there's streams of sunlight leaking in through the window. eddies’ arms are still tightly wrapped around you, your nose is pressed to his chest. you breathe in deeply, inhaling a scent that’s purely him.

you try to pull away, muscles protesting with an ache that’s begging you to stay in bed. his arms tighten, pulling you back in. his eyes open just enough to see what you’re doing. 

“gotta pee.” you whisper, not wanting to pull him out of his sleepy daze. he barely nods, arm lifting to allow your movement. you slowly exit the covers and try not to wake him any further. he’s already out again by the time you reach down to pick up one of his shirts from the floor. 

your shoulder blades pop, body screaming for the movement to stop as you pull the clothing over your head. there’s a painful pressure in the small of your back that makes your legs wobbly and hard to walk on. 

when you get done washing your hands you glance at yourself in the mirror. you’re taken back by how exhausted you look. there are dark bags under your eyes, the skin raw from crying. your eyes themselves are bloodshot. your skin seems washed out, hair greasy from dried sweat. 

there’s a burning in your side, causing you to pull the tee up to see your ribs. the barcode tattooed there is puffy and raw, looking almost fresh. you know rationally that it’s not, that it’s been there for as long as you can remember. 

your eyes must be playing tricks on you; because when you look back up you can only think that you look younger. sicker. weaker.  you squeeze your eyes shut and try to ward off the tears. 

after a moment you huff and begin your trek back to his room. you don’t want him to see you like this, but the idea of being by yourself- away from him- for a second longer threatens to drown you in panic. in false loneliness. because you know you’re never alone now. now that he’s with you everyday. 

when you enter his room, he’s sitting against his headboard with a cigarette between his lips. a warmth fills your chest; it shadows the sluggishness and exhaustion in your bones. 

“watch the glass.” he calls a moment too late. you hiss, more from shock than pain as the shards pierce your skin. he reaches and pulls you into the bed, tutting softly.

he shakes his head as he examines your foot. he’s got it in his lap as he pulls the glass from it. 

“what are we gonna do with you.” he laughs. you roll your eyes and look away. you can’t keep looking at your blood on his fingertips. 

after he’s assured that your foot is okay and the glass is cleaned up, he’s got you laying in his lap on the couch. ‘the texas chainsaw massacre’ plays on the tv; he’s got his chin propped on the top of your head as he watches. 

“you wanna talk about it?” he whispers, trying not to wake his uncle who’s asleep in the other room. 

yes. you want to curl up and cry and tell him how terrified you were to be back in that place. you want so badly to tell him everything. you know you owe him an explanation for scaring the shit out of him the night before. 

but you can’t. 

“not really.” you murmur. your heart clenches, begging you to be honest with him. his hand snakes out, reaching to squeeze your own. 

“okay.” he mumbles into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your head. 

you spend the rest of the day there with him. he never pushes you to talk, just comforting you in a way only he can. 

\\

“this is so stupid.” you laugh. he’s in the water below you, dopey smile splayed on his features. february 14th is far too early to be swimming, even in a heated pool. 

“that’s what makes it fun.” he insists. 

after carter and olivia got back from their valentines date they had called and insisted that you, eddie, and donnie come over and make use of carters’ big empty house. olivia is wrapped up in carters arms in the water, donnie behind you smoking a blunt while eddie tries to convince you to get in. 

“come on princess, it’ll be fun.” he promises; you can’t deny that the steam rolling off the water he’s submerged in looks much more inviting than the winter air prickling your face. 

“get in or i’ll push you.” donnie threatens. eddies’ persuasive smile turns into a glare. 

“don’t you fucking dare.” he defends. 

“fuck it.” you shrug, beginning to unbutton your jeans. you shuck them off your legs, wincing at the cold as you throw them onto a pool chair. eddie whoops and starts clapping. you bite your lip and muster the courage to pull your sweater over your head. 

before you can talk yourself out of it, you jump in. the heat immediately envelops your skin. when you come back up eddie is laughing, the hearty sound creating a warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with the water. 

you blink the chlorine out of your eyes, only for eddie to splash you. 

“asshole!” you squeal, beginning to fling water at him. you’re laughing and splashing each other for a few minutes before he swims up behind you and wraps his arms around you. 

“god, you’re freezing.” he whispers, nose brushing under your ear. you standing there in his arms for a few moments, basking in the heat of his skin. 

he sways you lightly. your eyes flutter shut, the now cold droplets run down your cheeks from your lashes. a ghost of his breath fans over your shoulder. it’s almost easy to forget that anyone but the two of you exist. 

“the two of you are so adorable.” olivia beams. you know it’s the alcohol in her system and carter sucking on her neck, but you love the way she says it. the two of  you. love what it implies. 

“isn’t she though?” eddie laughs, starting to tickle you. his fingers dancing across your ribs causing you to wriggle out of his grip. but he’s stronger than you, or you let him think he is, as he holds you in place. 

“what the hell is that?” you’re all pulled from your laughter by donnies’ question. your gaze follows his finger to your ribs, eddie moving your arm to do the same. his eyes find the dark splotch, face contorting in confusion. 

under any other circumstances you’d be panicking. eddies’ frame so close to your own keeps the feeling at bay. his fingers brush the inked skin, head tilting softly in examination. 

“dunno.” you lie “had it all my life.” 

“tattooed as a baby? that’s fuckin rad.” carter laughs, causing you and eddie to chuckle while oliva slaps his shoulder. 

“guy, it’s snowing.” donnie intejects again. 

once you’re inside, carter and olivia are fumbling up the stairs. donnie calls a quick goodbye as eddie tosses you your backpack. 

“go change.” he mumbles as the front door closes. when you exit the bathroom, he’s sitting in front of the fireplace. you make your way to him quickly, prying your way under the blanket wrapped around him. he’s shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. 

“shit, babydoll. your fucking lips are blue.” he cries out in concern, thumb trailing across the bottom one. 

“i’m okay, really.” you promise. he pulls you into his lap, heated skin warming you. 

you sit with him in silence; eyes fixed on the flames before you. it’s peaceful. you don’t know when you fell into this routine of ignoring the way he makes your heart beat faster every time he’s near. it was hellish to pretend you didn’t have feelings for him, but it was normal for you by now. the squeaking from the floor above you pulls you out of your daze. 

“oh god!” eddie groans. you start to laugh hysterically. 

“ew.” you choke out between giggles. 

“your poor baby ears.” he huffs. he clasps his hands over your ears, which only makes you laugh harder. “keep it down up there!” he shouts. 

when the sounds finally stop, he reaches for the pack of cigarettes from his bag. he takes a long drag once it’s lit. there’s a fluttering in your stomach as he lets the smoke pour from his nose. you try to ignore it by making a keening sound and reaching for his hand. he holds it out of your reach. 

“just this once.” he warns, slotting the stick between your fingers. you inhale ignoring the horrid tastes as the smoke burns your lungs. your whole body feels weightless when you exhale. you lay your head back on his shoulder, it seems too heavy for you to hold on your own. 

“light headed?” he quizzes. you know you’re nodding, but you can’t feel it. “i’m such a terrible influence.” he says amusedly. he leans forward to take a drag through the filter that you’re still holding. his lips brush your finger and your stomach gives another small jolt. 

“i can’t wait to get the hell out of here.” he hums, a distance in his eyes. 

“what do you mean?” you whisper back. 

“hawkins.” he clarifies. he looks out the window toward the snowy backyard. “go somewhere it’s warm. just me and my guitar and whoever the hell is lucky enough to come with me.” there’s a sadness in his tone. you don’t dwell on it, choosing to take another hit instead. “let’s run away.” 

“right now?” you playfully ask. he laughs, nose brushing the start of your cheekbone as he puffs out a cloud of smoke. 

“how about this?” he starts. “for your next birthday, i’ll take you anywhere you want to go. you’ll be sixteen and i’ll be almost eighteen. we can do anything you want.” you turn to look at him, nose bumping his own. 

“that sounds perfect.” you grin. you wonder what it would be like to close the minute distance between your mouths. 

“better than the skateboard i got you this year?” you recall the morning he’d showed up at your house with the shiny board in hand. school had been closed for snow and he’d spent the whole day in the empty parking lot with you while you taught yourself how to ride it. when the cold had finally been too much for the both of you, he’d brought you home and cleaned up your scraped knees. 

“definitely.” you reply. a lazy smile adorns his face as he nods. 

“guess now we have to.” nothing has ever sounded better to you. 

“i love you.” you whisper, chest tight. the three seconds of silence feel like three billion years. 

“i love you too, kiddo.” he laughs. kiddo, that fucking stings. but you smile, he loves you too. “i think you’re my best friend actually.” 

you don’t understand, you’re my everything eddie. you want to protest. 

“you’re mine, hands down.” you shrug back. 

“better fuckin be.” he chuckles, finishing the ciggarett and throwing the stub into the fire. 

// 

“it’s gonna hurt, sweetheart.” eddies’ voice pulls you from your thoughts. you’re splayed out of donnies’ uncles’ couch. your shirt is pulled up, pants pulled down just enough to expose your hip bone. eddie is trying to talk you down while donnies uncle, james, prepares the needle. he’s squatting on the floor at the end of the couch, face over yours while he speaks.  

“i know.” you breath. he smiles down at you with sympathy. 

“it’s not too late to opt out.” he reminds, hand reaching for yours. 

“alright, you ready?” james asks. you give a shaky nod. 

“you can’t fucking tell your dad about this.” donnie says angrily. eddie glares at him. 

“i know.” you repeat. james holds the small paper you’d given him up to the light. 

“you drew this?” he asks, turning the image towards yours and eddies line of vision. it’s a small sketch of an open switchblade. you give a small nod and a polite smile. 

“it’s gonna be so bitchin.” eddie grins. 

the buzz fills your ears as the tattoo gun comes to life. james glances up at you, to which you nod in confirmation. when the needle meets your skin your face screws up in a small wince. eddie presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“contact is made, people.” james calls out, beginning to move the instrument. olivia claps from carters’ lap.  

once it’s moving it’s not so bad. you’ve definitely had worse. the room is quiet, soft sounds from whatever was on tv and the buzzing filling the space. every so often your skin would snag on the needle and pull, eddie softly squeezing your hand for comfort. you have no idea how long you sit like that, watching the ink make home on your flesh. 

“okay, this next layer is going to hurt worse. after that it’ll be done though.” james warns. eddies soft brown eyes meet your own. 

“i got you.” he whispers, fingers lacing into yours. when the needle meets the raw flesh again, you let out a small whine. eddies’ face contorts in displeasure. olivia comes into your sight, leaning down to whisper something in eddies’ ear while pointing at the spot on your hip. he nods softly. 

“hold on tight, going over the bone bump.” james informs. you dig your teeth into your bottom lip in preparation. you give a small gasp when the needle hits the spot. you’re not given time to register the pain though; because eddies’ lips are pressing into your own. 

you’re in complete shock, body both tensing and relaxing at the same time. he tastes like beer and whatever candy he’d had been in his mouth. there’s also another thing, something you can’t quite place that’s so purely him. his knuckles lightly rub the underside of your jaw. 

“all done.” james says triumphantly. eddies’ mouth releases from your own, a small string of saliva on his lips. he licks it away as his eyes travel to your new tattoo. your head is spinning, breathing irregular. 

what the fuck just happened? 

\\

“we should go as rogue and gambit for halloween this year.” his voice pulls you from absentmindedly playing with the hem of your pajama bottoms. 

“aren’t they like… a thing?” you ask meekly. you know they are, and you want to scream ‘god yes!’ immediately. 

“well, yeah. but it could be fun.” he suggests. 

“yeah.” you nod, going back to playing with the hem of your pants. you hadn’t really spoken a lot since you left james’ today, and he was starting to worry. 

“if they’re bothering it, you should take them off.” he instructs. you nod and begin to pull the fabric down your legs. 

“it itches.” you mumble. 

“i think i have something for that.” he says, reaching to open the drawer of his nightstand. 

“should it be bruised?” you ask. he turns back to you, a small tin in hand. 

“ones on a bone usually do.” he informs, pulling the lid off. “lemme see.” 

he applies the gel-like substance to your skin softly, careful not to press too hard. 

“i hope it didn’t hurt you too bad.” he whispers, rubbing his fingers on his shirt and tossing the tin toward your backpack. 

“eh, kinda liked it.” you shrug. he chuckles

“little masochist.” he laughs, ruffling your hair. “i’m uh… sorry if i made you uncomfortable today.” he whispers. his voice is barely loud enough for you to hear. your heart starts to beat faster. you really don’t want to talk about it. 

“it’s okay. just startled me.” you state. his eyes meet yours, something guilty behind them. 

“was that your first kiss?” he asks somberly. embarrassment floods your being, tinting your cheeks pink. you nod shyly. “oh god, honey i’m so sorry.” he hides his face in his hands. 

“it’s okay, really.” you say, maybe a bit too quickly. “it could have been worse, i could have had it with some random asshole that i’d break up with one day.” you urge, attempting to pull his hands from his face. 

“i guess, but i just took it from you and i didn’t even ask and-” he begins to ramble. 

“eddie, it’s okayyy.” you practically whine. “at least i got it over with, and i don’t have to worry about being laughed at for being bad my first time.” 

“oh you’re definitely not bad at it.” he states, peering out from between his fingers. your jaw drops in shock, eyes widening. “that sounded so much worse!” he shouts, throwing himself face down on the bed dramatically. 

“no no no, eddieee” you laugh, attempting to roll him over. “it’s okay, eds. i swear.” it comes out as a pout. 

“really?” he asks, peeking at you. you nod, awkward smile on your face. he sits up, fully looking at you. “you promise you’re not mad?” an idea pops into your head. 

don’t you fucking do it! the logical part of your brain screams. you don’t listen to it as you lean forward and press your lips to his. he gives a small gasp as you slot your mouth against his. this time he tastes like weed and grape juice, but still completely eddie. just as you’re about to pull away, his hands come up and stroke your jaw. he leans into you gently, kissing back. nope, this can’t be happening, it's too much. you pull back, panting slightly. 

“see, i promise i’m not mad.” you choke out. a fake smile makes its way to your face, praying your nerves don’t show through. he laughs.

“was this your plan? get me stoned and get kissing lessons?” he continues to snicker. 

“don’t be a dick.” you groan, lightly kicking his knee. 

“y’know what scratch what i said. you could use some practice.” he says sarcastically. you groan again, throwing yourself back into his pillows. it’s silent for a moment. why in the fucking fuck did you just do that? you sigh, slinging your arm to cover your face. “what’s wrong?” he breathes, fingers rubbing your knee. 

“now i’m worried i made you mad.” the words sound strangled leaving your lips. he laughs, resentment seating itself in your limbs. 

“i’m not.” he says. you can feel the bed dipping as he crawls toward you. “it’s okay, friends kiss all the time.” his fingers wrap around your wrist, putting your face in view. 

“really?” you continue to pout. he nods, soft smile gracing his features. “i don’t think olivia would be happy to hear you’re kissing her boyfriend.” you tease, trying to ease your own tension. he breaks out into a fit of laughter. 

“carter? maybe. donnie?-” he trails off.

“definitely not.” you finish. you both look at each other, fighting (and failing) to keep from wheezing. “wait-” you freeze. his word finally set in your brain. he can see the realization cross your face. 

you can see him start to panic. the cute smile you love leaves his face and his hands start to shake. 

“i don’t- i mean i didn’t i-” he gasps, trying to find his words. 

“no eddie it’s okay.” you try to reach out for him, but he pulls away from you. tears prick at his water line. 

“y/n, please-” he sobs, biting the inside of his cheek. his eyes won’t meet yours; his trembling getting worse. 

“it’s okay, i swear i won’t tell anyone.” you plead, reaching for him again. he lets you embrace him, but he’s tense in your arms and you feel so fucking bad. “i just didn’t know that you-” he nods, his tears soaking your shoulder. you sit like that for a moment, rocking him softly and letting him cry. “so… is it just guys or like?” don’t be selfish! your mind screams. 

“n-no.” he stutters into the skin above your shirt collar. “god, you probably think i’m so disgusting.” another sob leaves his throat; his arms grip you tighter. 

“no eddie, of course not.” you whisper into his ear, hands going to run through his hair. “i get it, everyone is hot sometimes.” you shrug. “nothing like that could ever make me think less of you.” you can feel his body slump in relief. “now if you told me you liked donnie or steve harrington or some shit i’d probably think you’re gross.” he pulls back, a small gasp leaving his lips as he dramatically throws his hands against his chest.

“you don’t like steve harringtons’ magnificent hair?” he says if false bewilderment. his face is red, eyes puffy and still leaking tears. “how dare you? god are you even female?” he asks accusingly. you giggle. 

“nah, yours is far better since you decided to let it grow out.” you hum, reaching to run your fingers through the fluff behind his ear. he grins, a real smile that puts one on your face as well. 

“you think?” he asks, glancing at your hand as you continue to play with the soft tuft. 

“oh yeah.” you muse, softly thumbing the tears off his cheeks. he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “i’m sorry if i scared you.” he shakes his head. 

“i’ve never told anyone before.” he whispers. 

//

“stop worrying, you look perfect.” olivia chides, resting her chin on your shoulder. the green dress is hugging your frame, hair and makeup (done by olivia and her mom) done perfectly. “eddie is gonna think you look so pretty.” he smirks. 

since the night you’d slept over at her house, she’d been relentless in her comments about you and eddie. the boys were downstairs in the kitchen, arguing over pizza while the two of you arranged her floor to accommodate five people. her parents were away on a vacation, so the group had practically lived there the whole week of spring break. 

“you need to tell him that you like him before i leave for college and don’t get to see it!” she’d said, throwing a pillow at you. 

“he’s my best friend. it’s not like that.” you had argued. she’d simply rolled her eyes and huffed out a ‘sure’ in response. 

“come on, let’s get this over with.” you groan, beginning to exit the bathroom. when you step into the foyer of the living room, you immediately spot eddie, donnie, and carter standing with the dads while carters’ and olivias’ moms prepare the camera. donnies’ dad is nowhere to be found, even though he’d promised he’d be here. 

“we’re ready!” olivia calls, smiling brightly from beside you. everyones’ gaze perks up immediately. when eddies’ eyes land on you, his face softens and the slightest side smile plays on his lips. 

after nearly a half hour of being directed around for pictures, you’re finally given the okay to leave. as you’re getting ready to load in the van, donnie begins to argue with you. eddie is too lost in conversation with hopper to notice. 

“donnie, she’s his date so she’s going to sit in the passenger seat.” carter groans, obviously annoyed as he waits for his mother to stop fawning over his girlfriend. 

“why the shit do you always get the front seat?” he snaps, puffing his chest out. 

“because i’m eddies’ goddamn favorite!” you respond matter-of-factly. 

“language children!” carters’ dad shouts. eddie quickly comes to unlock the door, ushering you into the van. 

“this is fucking bullshit.” donnie whispers under his breath and truges to get in the back with carter and olivia. eddie turns back to you with a smile. 

“just because you know you’re my favorite doesn’t mean you should rub it in everyones’ face.” he playfully scolds. 

it’d been nearly two hours since then, two hours of laughing and giggling with eddie. you’d been making fun of peoples’ hair, dresses and makeup nearly non-stop. he’s dancing sillily with you to ‘don’t you want me’ by the human league and you feel like you’re on top of the world. for the past couple weeks you had been dreading prom; but you were actually having fun. the music suddenly cuts off’ turning to something slow. he grimaces. 

“do you have any idea how to slow dance?” he asks, putting his hands on your waist. his soft grip makes your skin tingle. 

“a little, my grandpa taught me the first time i met him.” you whisper back. you don’t think you could speak any louder without your voice faltering. 

“good.” he laughs, guiding your hands to his shoulders. “because i have no idea; so i need you to teach me.” nerves fill your stomach. you nod shyly, beginning to slowly sway his movements. 

without the loud and energetic music you suddenly feel much more on display. everything feels much more open and intense, especially with his gaze on you. there are people, couples, dancing together on every side of you. it suddenly feels wrong for you to be here. anxiety makes your limbs tingly and your body unbalanced. but eddie’s there with comforting words and soft touches, like he always is. his fingers grasp your chin and pull your face to look at his own. 

“don’t worry about them. they don’t matter.” he breathes. his deep brown eyes feel like they’re looking into your soul as the hushed words leave his mouth. “no one matters but us.” 

his words make you smile and bury your face into his chest. a light headed feeling washes over you, better than any high you’ve ever had. 

how did he get you this way? it seemed that in the nine months you’d know him, your whole world had changed. how long had it been since you’d talked to jonathan? or robin? how long had it been since you’d spent a full twenty-four hours without eddie by your side? how long had it been since the name ‘freak’ stopped burning your chest when it was yelled at you in the hallway?  and most importantly, how long had it been since you’d had a single coherent thought about a human being that wasn’t him? 

these questions rattle your thoughts to the point they almost become deafening. but when eddies’ lips place a small kiss to the top of your head, you realize you don’t care. 

you look up into his eyes again. the lights strung up around the ceiling reflected in his irises. 

you don’t care in the slightest. 

because it doesn’t matter as much as he does. you’d give up every single friend you’ve ever had, get called any awful name in existence, and lose any moment of alone time for the rest of your life if it means they all get to be spent with him. you would give anything to stay this way with him forever. but nothing lasts forever. 

“hey eddie!” olivias’ voice captures both of your attention. “do you have any weed in the van?” she asks quietly. 

“or your flask?” carter furthers hopefully. eddie looks down at you momentarily before nodding at them.

“i’ve got something better.” he smirks, leaning you all out of the gym. 

once in the van, he pulls up the hide-away seat to reveal the biggest bag of weed you’ve ever seen, a bottle of vodka, and two cases of beer. 

“god, you’re the fucking best!” carter shouts. his hand slaps eddies shoulder in approval before reaching for a beer. 

nearly three hours later, you’re laying on the top of the van staring at the stars. you’re parked in the hess’ field on the outskirts of town, the other three dropped off long ago. the glass bottle is nearly empty and the second blunt is almost burnt out. 

you can’t bring yourself to form a thought, the numbing lightness too much to complete the action. the chilly night air of spring pricks your arms, but you barely notice as you stare at the sky. the galaxy is so beautiful, but eddies’ eyes are still my favorite. 

“you wanna go swimming?” he asks suddenly, pulling you from your daze. 

“why is that your first suggestion every time you get stoned?” you giggle. 

“because it’s fun, duh!” he states obviously, rolling his eyes. “c’mon, we’re going.” he decides. he jumps off the roof, quickly pulling you down into the damp grass. 

“where the hell are we going to swim at?” you slur, following as he pulls you along. 

the dew wets your bare feet as you walk on shaky legs. you giggle at the way they shine in the moonlight. he shushes you, pointing down the hill. after a second of squinting, and nearly falling, you can see the small pond he’s gesturing to. 

on the trek there you slide nearly seven times, eddie barely being able to hold you up himself. once you reach the waters edge he quickly begins pulling off his clothes, you reach for your own zipper and whine. 

“wait! eddie i’m not wearing a bra under my dress!” the realization nearly brings tears to your eyes in your cross faded state. 

“it’s not a big deal, y/n. it’s just me.” he shrugs, finally down to his boxers. you shrug. 

“then help me with my zipper.” you whimper out. he clumsily makes his way behind you, knuckles running along the soft skin of your back as he pulls the zipper all the way down. you shudder at the touch, letting the dress slide off your body. the breeze hit the exposed skin of your chest, making you hiss and back into him. he wraps his arms around you and softly guides you into the water. 

you’re too far gone to feel self-conscious about being practically naked as he begins to splash you. it’s nearly twenty minutes of laughter and playing like children before you’re in his arms again. 

your arms are around his neck, chest pressed against his own while your head lays on his shoulder. 

“eddie?” you whisper, breaking the peaceful silence. he hums back, and you can see the way his neck flexes while producing the sound. “can i kiss you?” you ask, barely audible. 

“of course.” he slurs. in less than a second, your lips are molded to his. you don’t even think about what you’re doing as your fingers lace into his hair. the slight tug to his scalp has his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. you whine into his mouth at the contact of teeth to flesh. 

when you pull back, you’re both panting. you momentarily admire him before moving your lips to his neck and sucking softly. he moans, head falling back as his fingers dig into the skin of your waist. his sounds only spur you on as you nip at his pulse point. 

“jesus christ, princess.” he huffs. you kiss the small bruise you created lightly. 

“eddie, please.” you whimper, preening your whole body into him. his hand trails up slowly, pausing to look at you. 

“it’s okay?” he manages, fingers so close and yet too far from the skin of your breasts.

“please!” you cry out, and he doesn’t wait. he needs the flesh softly and you moan into the skin of his neck. 

he quickly slots his knee between your thighs and you squeal at the pressure it puts there. you move your hips softly. 

“oh god, eddie!” you whimper, biting at the skin of his jaw. he groans when your knee bumps his crotch. 

“shit, y/n!” he moans back. but suddenly his whole being freezes. his hands pull away from your chest and he stops bouncing his leg. “y/n…” his voice trails, as if he’s just realized who he’s actually with. “oh god y/n-” he breathes, hands coming up to cup your face. you’re staring back at him, confusion on your usually soft features. “no, no, no…” he gasps, a tear runs down his cheek as his thumbs stroke your own. 

“eddie? what’s wrong?” you ask desperately. more tears run down his face. 

“i’m so fucking sorry.” he cries. your mind is too foggy to understand why he’s apologizing. “i almost- oh god!” he sobs, wrapping you tightly in a hug. 

“why did we stop? was i bad?” you ask, anxiety starts creeping up your spine. 

“no honey.” he whispers in your ear. “it’s not like that at all.” his grip on you tightens, almost as if he’s trying to ground himself with his hold. “we just can’t do that.” 

“why?” you ask, almost innocently. you pull back to peer up at him. he’s crying heavily, face puffy and eyes red. 

“because you don’t want this, and it’s not right.” he states. 

“no, eddie i do want this! i swear!” you protest, tears of your own start to surface upon his rejection. 

“no. no, sweetheart you don’t. you’re drunk, and high. and if i let you do this then you’ll wake up in the morning and hate me.” he rambles. “you’ll resent me until we can’t even be friends anymore. i can’t take advantage of you like this!” he tries to reason, his own sobriety coming back to him faster and faster each second. 

“you don’t want me?” you cry, the tears finally breach your waterline and cascade down your face. he shakes his head. 

“it’s not like that-” he tries, but a loud cry cuts him off. for a moment, he can’t tell if the sound came from you or him. as your body goes limp in his hold, he realizes it’s you. “shit.” he huffs, lifting your body up to carry you. 

you continue to sob the whole way back to the van, his own tears dripping from his face and falling onto your back. when he lays you down in the back, you sob and reach for him again. he comes back with one of his shirts and a pair of boxers he kept for emergencies. once the shirt is covering your naked top, he reaches for your underwear. 

“i’m gonna change these, okay?” he manages to gasp out between his own sobs. he pulls the damp material away quickly, replacing it with his dry boxers, all while staring at the ceiling of the van. 

he looks back down at you to see that you’re still crying, body trembling as you lay limp on the floor. you notice his gaze and reach out for him, he leans over you and pushes the damp hair from your face. 

“i love you, eddie.” you choke out. he squeezes his eyes shut, resisting the urge to get sick. 

“i love you too, y/n.” he whispers back. once he pulls a light blanket over you, it doesn’t take you more than a few minutes to cry yourself to sleep. 

he’s still crying himself as he walks back to get your clothes. when he sees the fabric of your dress lying by the water, he can’t hold back anymore and finally throws up in the grass. 

“fucking god.” he chokes, pressing his hands agaisnt his aching chest. 

he has no idea how long he sits in the drivers’ seat, hugging his knees to his chest and crying. he even prays, he fucking prays, even though he doesn’t believe in god that you won’t remember any of it in the moring. he wishes that he could forget it too, but he knows he’s not that lucky. 

\\

it’s the last day of school, nearly a week after prom night when olivia finally musters up the courage to ask eddie what has been bothering him. 

he’d been pushing away from everyone. gone were the sarcastic quips and funny remarks, they’d been replaced with stony silence and panicked breathing anytime you got too close. to say that everyone was worried would be an understatement, well except donnie, who claimed there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him. 

the breaking point had been last night, when you’d suggested to eddie that you all have a big sleepover and go to school hungover today. and he’d told you no. 

no. a word that eddie close to never used with you. 

later, you’d called her crying. you’d been terrified than he was mad at you, and you had no idea what you could have even done wrong. 

the morning after prom he’d barely been able to look at you. after you’d hugged him goodbye and thanked him for a fun night; he’d driven until he physically couldn’t take it anymore and thrown up on the side of the road. he quickly lost count of how many times he did that within the next forty-eight hours. 

then, the most hellish school week of your life had started. your eyes had begun to look more sunken and face gaunt with the nightmare you’d had without him by your side. olivia was fucking tired of it. 

“what the fuck is your problem?” she snapped, plopping down in the seat in front of his. he glances up at her, then to the study hall teacher who’s nearly passed out. 

“what are you talking about?” there’s an edge of agitation in his voice, one that seemed to be becoming more and more familiar. he doesn’t even give her the courtesy of looking at her as he speaks, going back to doodling in his notebook. 

“you know damn-well what i’m talking about.” she rips the book from his reach. he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he sits back and pretends to be looking out the window. “what. happened. after. prom?” she growls, anger bubbling in her stomach. 

“nothing.” he whispers, rolling his eyes. her scoff makes him flinch. 

“then why are you acting like such a little bitch?” she bites, but when he glances back at her, she can see tears in his eyes. “eddie?” she tests, voice softening minutely. a shaky sigh leaves his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“do you have one of your makeup wipes?” he asks. her brows furrow. 

“why do you-” she trails, but he grabs her hand and begins to pull her from the classroom. 

when they finally reach the unused, dingey girls bathroom she can finally tell just how wrong something is. he’s trembling and blinking tears from his eyes. without hesitation, she hands him one of the small towelettes from her bag. as he runs it along his neck, she sees tiny, nearly faded bruises begin to appear. 

“so what? you got a girlfriend and didn’t want to tell us?” she assumes. he bites his lip and shakes his head. 

“y/n gave me these.” he chokes. she can feel her heart plummet from her chest to the pit of her stomach, and still manages to choke on the sensation. “we were both fucking drunk, and she-” his voice cracks as he rolls the wetness from his eyes. “and i almost fucking let her.” it doesn’t work, and tears begin to fall. he also can’t remember how many times he’s cried in the past six days. 

“but you didn’t, eddie even if you wanted to you didn’t and that’s-” she starts to ramble, but his shout cuts her off. 

“i don’t fucking want to!” his aggression makes her wince. “it’s not- we’re not-” he tries, and the words fail him. “it’s not like that.” he whimpers sadly, maybe because he’s starting to realize it’s not true. 

she can’t help it, it doesn’t matter how mad she was at him fifteen minutes ago; she wraps her arms tightly around him as he cries. 

“she doesn’t remember, if that helps.” she whispers, beginning to run her fingers through his hair. he nods, sniffing softly. “but right now… you’re scaring her eddie. she thinks she’s done something wrong- that you don’t want her anymore- that you’re embarrassed of her. which, let's face it, that’s ridiculous because i don’t think you’ve been embarrassed about anything since like the sixth grade.” 

so he’d agreed to go to the end of school party that night, albeit reluctantly. he’d been making an effort to talk to you, to touch you without feeling sick all night. he was so fucking greatful you didn’t ask what had been wrong; he didn’t think he could take that. by his third beer, things had started to feel easier, less forced. 

but all nerves, all reluctance, all anxiety goes away the moment tommy h thinks he has the right to fucking touch you. you’re dancing to some abba song with a thoroughly wasted carter when tommy comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. eddie is standing by donnie, watching you with a small smile while he holds olivias’ drink. he can see the way you gasp, attempting to pull away. he can also see that carter is too far gone to notice what’s happening. 

even years later, if someone had asked him what had come over him that night, he probably still wouldn’t be able to explain it. he slams the solo cup down and stomps his away toward you, just in time to hear you cry out from tommys’ tight grip. 

“tommy, stop!” you whimper, and it’s as if someone injected gasoline into his veins and dropped a match in his lungs. he rips you from tommys’ grip and into his own, he can feel more than hear the way you gasp as you make contact with his chest. the moment you realize it’s him though, you fingers fist his shirt and you snuggle closer. 

“aw, come on munson! there’s enough of her for both of us.” tommy chuckles. you squint your eyes shut and attempt to move impossibly closer to eddie. 

“if you ever fucking touch her again, i’ll knock your goddamn teeth out.” the growl in his voice surprises all three of you. he sounds scary. his tone makes tommys’ eyes get wide and you gasp again. 

it was that night that eddie realized things weren’t going to be easy anymore. you weren’t a little girl, and the threat of being the cheifs’ daughter didn’t scare people anymore. you were fifteen, and being around people like eddie made you susceptible to all kinds. he knew that realistically you weren’t helpless, that you could fight for yourself if you needed to, but you shouldn’t have to. you should never have to, and he’s going to make damn sure that you don’t. he promises himself that he’s never going to push you away, or leave you lonely again. 

there’s a lot of things for you to fear at the age of fifteen, but he swears he’ll never be one of them again. 

//

you’re lying against eddies chest watching ‘alien’ while he sips a beer, it’d kind of become your nightly routine in the past three weeks since school let out. you’d go out for the day, swimming, shopping, or even just driving around, then come home and eat dinner while watching whatever horror movie he’d rented. 

you’d barely been home, practically living at eddies’. neither wayne nor your dad seemed to mind. wayne was happy you got eddie out of the house, and hopper was happy you had someone to spend time with. wayne also liked that you made dinner some nights, home-cooked meals were not something he and eddie were used to, and he adored the way you attempted to teach eddie how to cook. 

the music is tense as the xenomorph watches bret from the rafters of the ship, and just as it’s about to pounce- the trailer door slams open. you and eddie both scream, grabbing each others hands. 

“what the fuck dude!” eddie yells at a teary eyed carter. 

“olivia broke up with me.” he sobs. you sit up, opening your arms for him and whispering a soft ‘oh honey’ that’s got eddies’ chest burning as carter cries into the crook of your neck. 

“i’m sorry man, what happened?” he asks, awkwardly rubbing his shoulder. 

“i don’t even know!” he cries, grip on your (eddies) shirt tight. “she said she has feelings for someone else of some shit!” 

it takes nearly two hours to convince carter to go to bed, but the moment you’re sure he’s out, you’re flying down the hall and toward the phone. eddie watches from behind you, lips pulled into an angry line as you dial the number of olivias’ house. 

“hello?” the tone of her voice has you glancing over at the clock, two in the morning?

“okay, what the actual hell?” you growl. eddies’ brows rise in shock at the tone of your voice. the line is silent for a long moment, only furthering your anger. “i mean you guys were fine like what? two days ago?” 

“yeah, i mean it’s crazy what you and eddie miss when you guys just disappear.” she snaps back. you’re livid by now, squeezing the phone so hard your knuckles turn white. eddies’ fingers softly run over your own, pulling the phone from your hand. his back is against your chest, and you’re leaning up so you can still hear her words. “look, i just wanted to tell him and get it over with. it’s better than lying to him and telling him i still love him!” she defends quickly. 

“i mean, i guess.” eddie shrugs. “it’s gonna make going to college together pretty awkward though.” she huffs. 

“i told him i still wanted to be friends.” she whispers, “it’s not like i want him out of my life completely, i just have feelings for someone else now.” you scoff, walking over and throwing yourself on the couch. they talk for a few more minutes before eddie places the phone back in its place, leaning his forehead against the wall. 

“what else did she say?” you ask, taking in his tired demeanor. 

“doesn’t matter.” he hums, but he’s tense as he sits down beside you. 

“god, we leave them alone for forty-eight hours and they fall apart.” you laugh, throwing your head back in exasperation. he chuckles along, hand squeezing your knee. 

“i think summer just got a lot less fun.” he says sadly. 

\\

“c’mon doll, it’s four days. i think you’ll live without me for four days.” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood; it doesn’t work. 

“maybe if i had someone else to talk to! carter and donnie are camping all week, eds!” you whine. you’re laid out on his bed while he finishes packing his bag, continuing your week long whining since he told you he was leaving. 

every summer, eddie and wayne went on a trip upstate to stay with one of waynes’ friend to see an annual car show. you’d been dreading it since he told you about it. four days when he would be miles away, having fun with one of his childhood friends while you stayed here, in shitty little hawkins. you’re dread had only increased when you found out donnie and carter were going to be gone all week on a camping trip. 

eddie was the only one who had spoken to olivia since her and carter broke up. he huffs, flopping down in the bed beside you and putting a tape on your chest. 

“what’s this?” you ask softly, seeing the words ‘your mix’ in eddies’ messy handwriting. 

“mixtape.” he states, speech muffled by his face being pressed into the bed. “for when you miss me.” he furthers, finally looking up at you. you swear your heart fucking melts at his words. you coo happily, wrapping your arms around him to hide your inevitable blush. 

but the longer you sit, the more your chest tugs, because he’s going to be gone. for four whole days. 

the longest amount of time you’ve spent apart since you met him. 

“i’m gonna miss you so much.” you whimper, before you can think better of it. 

“aww, baby.” he laughs, sitting up to look at you. baby. the word rings in your ears. he squeezes your cheeks together, contorting your pout. “here.” he whispers, beginning to tug his ring off his finger. he slots it onto your own and you let out a small gasp. 

“eddie i can’t take this! it’s your-” 

“my moms.” he finishes and you nod, looking up at him in confusion. “and it’s the only things of hers that i have, so i need you to take care of it for me while i’m gone. it’ll give you something to do.” 

“eds, i can’t” you try to argue, but he doesn’t let you. 

and that’s how you end up standing on your doorstep, playing softly with the ring on your finger as eddies’ van drives down the road, wayne dozing off in the passenger seat. after hopper had left for work, you’d laid in your bed for hours reading ‘the shining’ and constantly replaying the tape eddie had given you. 

it’s nearly three in the morning when the phone finally rings. you drop the cold potato wedges you were about to shove in your mouth and practically run to it, hoppers tired laugh sounding behind you. 

“hello?” you ask hopefully into the receiver. 

“hey loverboy! your girl picked up!” an unknown voice shouts. your heart beats faster. your girl? “he’s on his way, i’ve heard so much about you by the way. he literally will not shut the fuc-”

“give me that!” you hear eddie yell, followed by shuffling and laughing. “hi y/n.” he sighs happily into the phone. your grin, a small giggle leaving your lips.

“hi… loverboy.” you hum mockingly. he groans. “what’s all that about?” you ask slyly, trying to ignore the way the flutter in your chest makes your lungs tighten. 

“wayne told everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” he huffs, the air of annoyance in his voice makes your face drop a little. “i’ve been teased non-stop ever since.” 

“aw, i’m sorry.” you giggle. 

“no you’re not, shithead. you’re enjoying my pain.” 

“only a little.” you muse back. you hear a laugh somewhere on the other end of the phone. 

“i’m going to bed kiddo, don’t stay on the phone too late.” hopper informs, pressing a kiss to the back of your head and patting your shoulder. 

“night, hop!” eddie shouts, causing hopper to chuckle. 

“goodnight, munson!” he shouts back before padding down the hall. 

“so how was your day, sweet girl?” eddie asks, and you hear another snicker followed by a loud ‘ow!’.  

“pretty good.” you state, sitting on the floor with your back to the wall. “almost done with my book, and i listened to the tape.” 

“what? miss me already?” he asks teasingly. you roll your eyes. 

“always.” you whisper. 

it’s nearly three the next afternoon when you finally decide to get out of the house and stop feeling bad for yourself. it was actually pretty nice, skating down the road with the summer breeze against your face. your headphones are on your ears, blaring ‘edge of seventeen’ to block out all thought, because they all seem to be about eddie. or, the lack thereof, the constant reminder that he’s hours away. 

you’re pulling snacks off the shelf at the convenience store as the song changes to ‘jessies’ girl’ making you hum happily. but the happiness quickly turns to anxiety when you round the corner and see olivia arguing with the guy behind the counter. 

“c’mon dude! it’s three damn dollars” she exclaims, throwing her arms up as you pull the headphones from your ears. you pull the cash from your pocket, are you really going to do this? you haven’t talked to her in like a month. you shake your head, pulling three dollars out and slamming them on the counter. her eyes get wide, face softening when she sees you.

“y/n, honey, you don’t have to.” she protests. 

“ring her up.” you snap, glaring at the worker. 

“wait, no-” she gasps, but the register is already dinging and you smirk. 

“don’t sweat it, you can just drive me home.” you smile, laying your snacks on the counter. she rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. 

“you’re a brat.” she beams, ruffling your hair. 

surprisingly enough, it’s not awkward as you sit in the passenger seat of her car, singing your heart out to ‘bad reputation’. 

“god, you hang out with eddie too much.” she laughs, turning the music slightly. you scowl, but continue singing anyway. “you wanna come stay at my place tonight?” she asks shyly. “it’s just- i know he’s out of town and i don’t know, it could be fun. but you totally don’t have to-” she starts to ramble. is she nervous right now? 

“yeah, sure.” you agree and she nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. olivia is never nervous. 

you’re in your room shoving clothes in a bag when you hear her coo softly. you turn and see her looking at the assortment of things tacked to your walls. 

“aw, this is so cute!” she chuckles, running her fingers over a polaroid of you lying in eddies’ lap and flipping off the camera, or more so carter who was behind it. 

it feels good to be out, somewhere that’s not your house, eddies’, or bennys’ with your dad. she’s got a nearly empty wine bottle in her lap, giggling like an idiot. 

“okay, so let’s talk business.” she laughs, passing it to you. you tilt your head at her in confusion, cigarette dangling from your lips. “you and eddie-” she says slyly, biting her lip. 

“oh god!” you groan, falling back into her pillows as ‘the chain’ filters though her room. you get lost in the voice of stevie nicks and begin to shake your head. “there’s nothing to talk about.” you lie. 

“oh whatever y/n! you’re totally in love with him!” she shouts. you shut your eyes and huff out a cloud of smoke. 

“utterly.” you whisper. her jaw drops, a small gasp leaving her lips. you sit up on your elbows to look at her, and a grin breaks onto her face.

“holy shit!” she screams. “holy shit, oh my god!” she begins to bounce in her seat. “you have to tell him y/n!” you feel tears begin to well in your eyes. 

“just because i am doesn’t mean he is.” you whisper again, voice cracking at the mere thought. a pitiful frown pulls her cheeks down suddenly. 

“oh, sweetheart.” she reaches out to hug you. “he definitely is.” you scoff. “i can see it in the way he looks at you. you’re the only one who's allowed to touch the radio, that he shares food with, that gets to touch his guitar- i mean you have matching stick-and-pokes of gods’ sake!” 

“in not that simple!” you whine, “it’s just not like that with us.” a tear runs down your face. 

“wait-” she grabs you hand and begins to examine it. “is that?” her jaw falls slack again. 

“his moms’ ring.” you nod; she laughs in disbelief. 

“jesus christ, you’re practically married.” she beams, but you only shrug. 

hours later, you’re asleep in the floor while she talks on the phone.

“babe-” she interrupts eddie, glancing back at you. “i’m starting to feel bad.” she whispers. 

“why?” eddie asks softly. 

“we’re going to break this girls poor fucking heart if she finds out-” she looks sadly at the ring on your finger. 

“no one is going to find out. what are you even talking about? why would y/n care?” he asks and she clamps her eyes shut. 

“i just think she’ll be upset that we didn’t tell her.” she lies straight through her teeth, guilt swarming in her chest. 

\\

a pounding at your front door wakes you, causing you to groan. you fumble your way to the door, cursing pissily as you throw it open. all your anger diminishes when you see eddie rocking back and forth, hands behind his back. 

“eddie!” you scream, throwing your body toward his own. his arms don’t wrap around you, and you pull back, confused. 

“i have a surprise for you.” he smirks, hands still hidden from view. “well, a few. but the most important one comes first.” 

“the anticipation is killing me.” you say dramtically, but you’re not able to force the stupid grin off your face. 

he pulls his hands out to reveal what must be the tiniest kitten you’ve ever seen. you gasp, hands immediately reaching for it. he lays it gently into them, and your heart nearly shatters at the tiny cry it lets out. 

“oh my god.” you gasp again, “eddie it’s so tiny!” he laughs, finally wrapping his arms around you as you cradle the small animal to your chest. 

“promise not to love her more than me.” he laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. you melt into his touch, releasing a soft sigh. god, these past four days have been the longest of my fucking life. the kitten croaks from between you. 

“i’ll try.” you laugh, holding her up to look at her. her all black fur is fluffed out, tiny tuffs sticking up from her ears. 

“she has to be bottle fed, but i got the stuff for that on the way here.” he informs as you begin to tug him into the trailer. “just found her. on the fire escape of all places.” he laughs, flopping down onto your bed. 

“aw, poor baby.” you hum, laying her down on his stomach as you crawl in bed beside him. you sit in content silence, both of you petting the small creature.

“i missed you.” he whispers, pulling you from your daze. he looks so fucking tired. you lean forward, moving some hair from his forehead. 

“i missed you too.” you admit, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. his eyes flutter shut and he sighs, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“it’s good to be home.” he mumbles, thumb stroking your cheek bone. the kitten emits a small cry from the spot she crawled to on his chest, causing you both to giggle. “what are you gonna name her?” 

“how about ororo?” you ask, looking into her small cloudy gray eyes. 

“like munroe? like storm?” he laughs when you nod. “oh my god you have been reading them!” he beams, sitting up and nearly dropping ororo. 

“yeah, you were right. they’re pretty cool.” you hum, rolling your eyes as he shakes your shoulders in excitement. 

“now we have to go as rogue and gambit! and we can bring ororo!” he laughs, picking her up to talk to her. 

he doesn’t leave your house for the next two days, not that you mind. he’d slept a lot the first day, much to your insistence when he’d told you he’d drove all through the night and came over as soon as he’d gotten home. he’d helped you feed ororo, napped, told you about his trip, napped again, and then given you your other surprises: a fleetwood mac record, a coffee mug with wildflowers printed on it, and a sketchbook. you’re lying on the couch with him, watching some show your dad had told him about when the phone rings. 

“hey, you wanna hang out with me, donnie, and olivia tonight?” you hear carters’ voice through the line. since when were they talking again? you look back at eddie, who’s carrying on a one-sided conversation with ororo. 

“i don’t know if i can get eds off the couch for that long.” you laugh, causing his head to snap up and scowl at you. 

“stop hoarding him!” you hear donnie shout over the line. 

so that’s how you end up walking up to carters’ front door, eddies’ arms slung over your shoulder as you carry a mewing ororo in your arms. 

“she’s too little to leave by herself.” eddie had insisted, shoving the small bottle into his bag. 

“oh my god!” olivia yells, running off the porch to meet you when she sees the feline clutched to your chest. 

all of you are sat in a circle, passing around a joint while eddie attempts to feed ororo. olivia and carter are surprisingly civil with one another. 

“she doing okay?” you ask eddie, reaching over to pet the top of her head. he only nods, clearly concentrating, tongue poking out slightly. 

“aw, it’s like you two have a baby now.” olivia giggles. you blush slightly when carter hums in agreement. donnie only rolls his eyes and glances around the room. 

“closest thing i’ll ever have to one.” eddie states, pulling the empty bottle from her mouth and setting it on the floor. 

“you don’t want babies?” olivia gasps, hands flying to her chest dramatically. eddie shakes his head, mumbling a quick ‘nope’ while handing the sleepy kitten to you. “what if your wife wants them?” she asks, causing him to laugh.

“not getting married either.” he shrugs, taking a hit. olivia looks horrified. “i don’t need a certificate to tell me how much i love someone.” 

“that’s sweet.” you hum.

“that’s stupid.” olivia snaps at the same time. 

“anyway-” carter interrupts, not wanting it to turn into a debate. “are we going to kats’ end of the summer party?” 

“obviously.” donnie chirps. eddie groans and throws his head back. 

“do we have to?” he whines, looking over at you. 

“yes, you do.” olivia intejects before you can answer. “it’s the last high school party carter and i will have before we leave for college.” 

a somber mood takes over, like it’s suddenly dawning on everyone that in a few weeks they won't be here anymore. 

“that’s fucking depressing.” donnie states. 

// 

“holy fuck! you look so hot!” olivia screams. you’re in a tight black slip dress with a mesh red t-shirt underneath, all of which formerly belonged to her. she’d given you practically her whole wardrobe while packing up her childhood bedroom. an experience which had been full of tears, even eddie had almost cried while pulling photos from her wall. 

eddie’s in a tight red tee and black jeans to match you, and the thought makes your stomach flutter. 

“do you have it?” she whispers in your ear, carefully not to let the three boys in front of you hear. you nod, pulling the flooded up piece of paper from the pocket of your black jean jacket. she beams, “he’s gonna tell you he loves you too. and then i’ll have completed my goal of getting you two together and can leave happily.” you simply roll your eyes, too nervous to think about it any longer. 

it’s been two and a half hours since then and you’re well buzzed. your cup sloshes sound as you search for eddie in the sea of people. you can’t find him anywhere, and you’re starting to feel claustrophobic. 

“found him.” donnie says, coming up to you and grabbing your wrist. he leads you up the stairs and into a small bedroom. you glance around, noticing it’s empty. 

“he’s not in here-” you whimper, but when you turn around donnie is shutting the door. “what are you-” you start, but you’re interrupted by him smashing his lips onto yours. you gasp, shoving him back by his shoulders. “what the fuck was that?” you shout. 

“finally gonna have you all to myself while he’s off screwing that whore.” he growls, shoving you back onto the bed. you attempt to stand up, but he pushes down hard on your chest causing you to cough. he begins to climb over you and you panic. 

“no stop!” you all but scream, but he just laughs. you feel sick, mind fuzzy and moving too fast to comprehend. 

“what’s this?” he asks coyly, picking up the paper that’s fallen from your pocket. 

“wait!” you try to reach for it; he smacks your hand away and begins to read it. 

“oh my god-” he laughs, looking up at your terrified expression. “so you’ll fuck eddie but you won’t fuck me?” he asks annoyedly. 

“it’s not like th-” you attempt to speak, but he grabs your neck and holds you down. your brain runs on auto as you reach up and claw at his face. even though you draw blood, it doesn’t seem to phase him. “no!” you shriek as he reaches for your tights. 

“what the fuck is going on in here?” carter yells, throwing open the door. donnies hand comes off your throat and you begin to gasp for breath. 

“help me.” you cry out. carters’ face turns from one of confusion to complete rage. 

“get the fuck off of her!” he yells, running to help you off the bed. he stands you up on trembling legs, and you notice for the first time that you’re sobbing. “are you okay?” he asks softly, turning your face to look at him. all you can do is fall into him, letting the sobs fall freely. 

“fuck you, you’re gonna get what you fuckign deserve when eddie finds out.” carter screams at him.

“he’s too busy for that.” donnie laughs angrily as carter helps you walk out. 

even with him leading you, the walk outside feels like miles. when eddies’ van is in sight, you finally feel like you can breathe again. you don’t hesitate, immediately dropping carters hand and running to it. 

“oh eddie-” you cry, pulling open the back door. but you feel your heart stop as it opens. 

olivia is sucking on eddies neck, hands down the front of his jeans. when he sees you, his jaw drops. you can feel bile starting to rise in your throat. 

“fucking seriously, dude?” carter shouts, something broken in his voice. olivia throws herself off eddies’ lap. 

“why are you crying, babydoll?” eddie asks, and the name makes you finally throw up in the grass. 

the next few minutes happen in a blur, olivia holds your hair back as carters’ fist lands on eddies’ cheek. the harsh sound only makes you throw up again. you hardly notice them fighting over the sound of your own head throbbing. 

“shit, eddie stop! he’s had enough!” olivia screams, running up to them. you look up to see a few people are starting to come over. donnies grabs eddie and pulls him off carters’ limp frame on the grass. 

“i think you’re gonna want to see this.” he laughs, handing eddie something. you don’t realize it’s your note to eddie until he’s looking up at you, confusion and sadness on his face. fuck. 

“tell him how you got it.” carter croaks, coughing up blood as he tries to stand. eddies eyes trail to donnie, a stream of blood running from under his eye. donnie starts to back away from him. 

“how’d you fucking get this from her?” he growls, but donnie doesn’t answer. all eyes are on you, but you can’t bring yourself to answer. 

“he tried to fuck her.” carter snaps crudely, his words make you gag again. 

“oh baby-” eddie whispers. 

“he what?” a deep voice shouts. and there he is. chief jim hopper stands, full uniform. your whole body relaxes. 

“dad-” you whimper softly. 

“get you asses in these fucking cruisers now.” he yells, officers powell and callahan guide donnie, carter, and oliva toward their cars. 

“can you stand honey?” eddie asks, hands on your shoulders. you almost reach out for him to take you into his arms, but you spot the bruises on his neck. you don’t even think about it as you reach up and slap him hard across the face. hopper jerks you back quickly.

“get in the car.” hopper instructs. eddies’ lips tremble, tears filling his eyes as he begins to walk to the bronco. 

the car ride is silent, occasionally broken by a soft cry from you or eddie. you feel numb, nothing but a deep ache in your chest. how could it all go wrong so quickly? the car comes to a stop before the station. 

“can you do this?” hopper asks, hand resting on your knee. you exhale shakily. 

“no one’s gonna blame you if you can’t, y/n.” eddie whispers, reaching up to touch your shoulder. you nod, leaning into his touch. 

“i can do it.” you whisper softly. 

your sitting in the lobby, olivia in front of you. eddie’s cuffed to the other desk, holding an ice pack against his face, carter mirroring his actions on the opposite side. no one speaks as your dad come up to kneel beside you. 

“he admitted it.” he tells you, hand coming up to stroke your arm. “do you want to press charges for attempted rape?” he asks sadly, voice cracking. 

“oh god.” olivia cries, hiding her face in her hands. you can’t force your eyes away from the wood in front of you, much less speak. 

“y/n?” eddie asks. officer callahan shushes him. you look up and see tears in his eyes, and reality comes crashing down on you. hopper pulls you into his arms as you begin to sob again. 

“yeah, yeah i do.” you choke out. eddie squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head as tears roll down his cheeks again. 

as flo takes pictures of your bruising, olivia and carters are questioned. then finally eddie. you sit in the lobby, lonely even though flow is at her desk typing and officer callahan and powell sit with carter and olivia outside. 

“he needs to talk to you.” hopper whispers, sitting in the seat on the other side of the table. 

on trembling legs, you make your way to your dads office. eddie is cuffed to the chair, not looking at you. 

“eddie-” you whisper softly. 

“we’re done.” he states simply. your chest tightens. “after tonight, after you walk out that door… your not gonna talk to me anymore. we’re not going to hang out. not going to be friends. it’s done.” he finally looks at you, face bloody, eyes red. 

“please don’t say that.” you beg. he shakes his head. “eddie, i love you.” you whimper, but you can’t cry. it hurts too much to even cry. 

“i promised your dad that i wouldn’t hurt you anymore, and that means leaving.” 

“you can only hurt me by leaving. you’re the best thing i’ve ever had, eddie please don’t leave me.” you beg desperately. “eddie, i’m so in love with you.”

“i’m not.” he states, without missing a beat. 

there it is. 

the words you never wanted to hear. 

they make you feel like the world is falling from beneath your feet. 

“no-” you whisper. 

“i’m sorry.” he says back. “but i can’t do this to you. you and me just don’t work that way, and i can’t keep stringing you along like this.”

“eddie-” 

“i love you, but not the way you want. y/n, i really do. i need you to know that, but this has to end.” 

and with that, you storm out of the room, out of the station. you slam your fist into the pillar by the sentence. it splits your knuckles, but you don’t even feel it. you can’t feel anything but the deep emptiness in your chest. 

hopper exits the station, guiding you back to the car. he buckles your seat belt for you, because once you sit, you suddenly can’t move. all of your limbs feel too heavy. so heavy that you feel like you could just sink into the earth and never stop. 

and the scariest part- you can’t think. can’t make a single thought enter your mind.  

the dark woods surround the road, the car. you stare at them, wishing you could disappear into them and never come back out again. the radio plays softly, but you don’t even notice it. 

“i know what it’s like-” hopper finally says. you look over at him. “i know what it’s like to fall in love with someone… just for it all to be ripped away from you.” you blink at him, dumbfoundely. 

“i always thought i was cursed, and i guess i passed it on to you. i know that it feels like you’re dying, like you’re all alone, like your whole world is falling apart. but you’re not alone. you have to remember that, because i also know that you may not be my biological daughter but you’re so damn much like me, and i need you to not do something stupid about those feelings like i did.” 

“i love him so much.” you cry. 

“i know, i know baby. he wanted me to give you this.” he holds that stupid fucking paper out to you. you open it, and begin to read the word you wrote only a few days ago. words that you wrote with so much love, hope, happiness, lightness. 

hey eds, i know this is stupid. but i’m writing all the things i’m too scared to tell you, which is stupid because i know once you read this you’ll tell me i have no reason to ever be scared of you. anyway, here it goes:

i was so lost before i found you. i had no idea who i wanted to be, what i wanted to do with my life. then you walked into it, and now it’s like the ideas had been there the whole time. i can’t wait to see what adventures we make together eddie. you made me feel like a real person. i’ve learned so much about myself in the past year. 

but the most important thing i’ve learned is that it takes me approximately four days to fall in love, and about four months to realize it. 

i couldn’t see myself spending every day of the rest of my life with anyone, until i met you. i love you eds’, so fucking much. 

-your favorite shithead, y/n. 

the words bounce around in your skull, enough tears running down your face to fill an ocean. you hold the paper up to the open window, and let the wind rip it from your fingers. 

your eyes settle back in front of you, staring out at the dark road as the curse of loneliness that seems to consume hawkins sucks you in too. so you reach to turn up the radio- 

“feelin’ that it's gone, could change your mind. if we can’t go on, to survive the tide, love divides. someday, love will find you. break those chains that bind you. one night will remind you, how we touched and went our separate ways. if he ever hurts you, true love won’t desert you. you know i still love you, though we touched and went our separate ways-”

tags: @kik51199​  @lynnsthoughts​ @multifandom-loser​ @naughty-koala07​ @httpsunflowers​ @munson-burner​ @shinydixon​ @aereth​ @yoyoanaria​ @madhatterweasley​ 

[thedrarrylibrarian]

this doesnt need a response or anything, just wanted to say how cool your guys reference section is !! when i was first getting into fanfic years ago that wouldve been SO helpful, and its so cool u guys made that for new fans :)) awesome stuff!! <3

I DO need to respond because I'm absolutely thrilled that the Reference Section is getting some use! Thank you so much for reaching out and bringing attention to one of the lesser known parts of the library.

If you're new to the blog (hi! welcome!) or have somehow just missed the Reference Section (that Card Catalog got you first), then you are in for a treat!

Have you ever wondered about how to tag your fic? Or where you can find other rec blogs? Maybe you want to link your AO3 to your tumblr, or your tumblr to your AO3! Maybe you just love reading fanfic, but feel nervous about leaving comments. Information on all this and more can be found in the Reference Section!

Basically, if I come across something that I think would be helpful to the fanfic community, I add a link to it in the Reference Section. Some of the tips are written by me, and some of them are written by the @wolfstarlibrarian (who has their own awesome Reference Section as well!) and some are written by other blogs that I just happened across that had really good information. If you haven't used it before, I hope that you'll at least check it out in the future and see if it's something that might be useful going forward!

Truly, I'm so excited that you found it and found it helpful. I always love hearing from Library Patrons and appreciate that you took the time to send this.

❤️ Lots of Love and Happy Referencing! ❤️

-- The Drarry Librarian

[mirclealignr]

the little things | jonathan byers.

“you don’t care it’s just the library in town?” jonathan asked twiddling his thumbs.

“nope!” you assured him, tying the laces to your shoes.

“but you go all the time,” jonathan reminded you, worrying too much about the simplicity of your date.

“not with you i don’t,” you reminded him, “and there’s still a bunch of books i haven’t read in there.”

jonathan tapped his foot against the floor in worry as he waited for you to tie your other shoe and slip your coat on. playing with the keys in his hand until he reached the car, he stuck them in the ignition and sped out of his driveway a little carelessly, but his head was somewhere else. he wondered during the drive if you were really satisfied with such a minimal effort date, but then remembered how happy you seemed to be surrounded by books barely touched by the other inhabitants of hawkins.

“hurry up!” you squealed as he pulled into a parking space outside, “i want to get one of the good seats at the back.”

your excitement only encouraged him, reassured him that he was enough as he was. jonathan hurried after you, opening the door to the library for you and watched you skip past the front desk as if this was home. but it was, in a way—a second home. the librarian barely gave the two of you a second glance, only smiled to herself as she continued her paperwork. traipsing after your quick speed, jonathan found you with already two books in your hand, engrossed in the titles on the shelves in the fiction section, and he offered to hold them for you.

for a while, he was mesmerised by your concentration, by your quiet breathing and little gasps when you found a title that piqued your interest. he hadn't expected to wander off somewhere and leave you to carry your own books, not that you really noticed, but something managed to catch his eye just down the way—a sign that read 'photography'.

he let his curiosity take hold and tiptoed down the aisle where he found a small, tucked away section he had never noticed before. while it was only little, there was plenty there to keep him occupied and satisfied for weeks.

"thought i lost you."

jonathan looked up from page seventeen of his non-fiction book with a sheepish grin, "sorry, i didn't realise they had a photography section," he shook the book in his hand.

"neither did i," you examined the book, "well, bring it with us to our table—i’m all done!"

making a mental note of the paragraph he had left off at, jonathan followed you to your favourite table at the back of the library near the window they always left open for ventilation and sat down opposite you, reading the names of your pile of books.

"looks like you've got some good ones," jonathan smiled, knowing that you knew he had no idea what he was talking about.

you liked his approval nonetheless.

"yeah," you grinned, "i wanna hear all about your cool photography facts, though," you added sincerely.

"sure," he whispered, looking between you and his open book in front of him, trying to suppress the urge to leap over the table and sink his lips into yours—he loved you so much. "you're pretty," was all he could say.

"oh, stop," you giggled, holding out your hand across the table.

jonathan took it, and began to read after you put your head down, gliding the pad of his thumb over your inner wrist.

library account; @mirclesjournal

[abnerkrill]

re: the wrap, what's an industry site that's worth reading in ur opinion?

hahaha none of them, unless you go into it knowing what you're getting is mostly propaganda, making it more an anthropological study and less a quest for good journalism. (and i should say, they are generally good about straight-up factual breaking news like casting announcements, writing and directing announcements, and so forth, so it's a good resource if you're in the industry and want to stay up-to-date about what's going on with films/shows. but any opinion about the strikes or unions from the trades is gonna be dead wrong 80% of the time and confusingly mixed-up the other 20%.)

some common sites, summed up:

the wrap: sharon waxman is a hack and a propagandist for the studios FIRST and a journalist dead last. some of the most egregious anti-union spin these months has been from her.

matt belloni at puck: obnoxiously anti-union in the guise of just being a fair, balanced, nice guy! the other people at puck seem fairly cool but matt is the entertainment guy and he's so so so bad and annoying it kinda ruins the whole publication (and it's paid-only, so no real help to most people.)

deadline hollywood: nearly as malicious as sharon waxman at the wrap, but much more dumb and less coherent, so the propaganda just never works as well?? gotta get on that, folks!

the hollywood reporter: solid mix of good and bad stuff depending on the journalist you get. i would say it's slightly more reputable than the wrap/deadline but geez the bar is low.

variety.com: they fucking love AI and i see their editorial board jacking off about AI so much i've pretty much stopped going on the site. waste of time.

indiewire: more balanced & reputable than the others, but is also somewhat less focused on being a "trade" like the others and mostly wants to talk about indie films. i've liked some of what they did about the strikes, but they're also annoying at times like this snarky headline ("Well, There Goes Halloween: SAG-AFTRA Bans Most Movie and TV-Centric Costumes for Actors" and similar) so like... grain of salt. many grains of salt.

the best way to get SAG-AFTRA and WGA updates has always been their websites (SAG-AFTRA, WGA) or, deeply unfortunately, their Twitter accounts (SAG-AFTRA, WGA). also unfortunately the accounts of individual members on their respective negotiating committees or volunteering as strike captains are gold—many have said they're gonna retire their Twitters after the strikes end, lol, but it's an invaluable real-time resource right now.

members are often able to rebut false info from the trades super quickly, and they have up-to-date, informed perspectives because they're literally the boots on the ground of the strikes! i recommend dual wga-sag-aftra member adam conover (sure he's annoying but he's GOOD AT HIS JOB), wga president david a. goodman, the wire writer/creator david simon, leverage and librarians showrunner john rogers, wga's chief negotiator ellen stutzman, and beloved star trek actress and sag-aftra member jeri ryan to start with—and find more wga/sag-aftra members through following them!

[yaboyhoney]

Could you write if you want cyrus smut theirs not enough of that man and we need some ?

Cyrus x Reader Smut

Working in one of Sinnoh's most famous and historical libraries as the librarian is a comfortable government job. You work with relative ease and little discomfort and effort to get through the day. Doesn't take long to notice the man with the blue spiky hair sitting in one spot for hours at a time, extensively reading about something. Though your job is nice, there are times when you're left without any duties. So during those times, you help out the local staff put the books away. The man with the blue hair never checks out the books. He stays in one spot by the tables, taking meticulous notes in a notebook, before leaving before the day is over. But one day, you decided to take him back home.

You didn't plan this ahead of time, you observing him wasn't out of malicious intent to sleep with him, but one rainy night on a day he forgot to leave on time to take the bus led you to offer him a ride back to his apartment when the library doors closed. You made light conversation, making a few comments about the choice of books he was reading and instantly his demeanor seems to change a bit. He loosens up and starts to comment back. The two of you get engaged into a conversation of history, philosophy, and religion. The ride home was pleasant and you bid farewell to your passenger and drove home, realizing on the way back you never got his name or number. But pleasantly, he returns the next day to the library where he sees you. Though he's not very emotive, he does thank you for your generosity. He disappears for about five minutes before coming back with a coffee for you. You accept the beverage and finally exchange names.

Cyrus began to talk to you more often, since you were extremely knowledgeable about the research topics he was invested in. One day he asks if you could come over, to discuss history over dinner and wine. Things got heated really fast after dinner was finished, you found yourself sitting on his lap, kissing his pale lips as he grinded his pelvis against yours. He has two firm hands caressing your ass, heat and tension rising until he stopped the kisses, giving you a half lidded, heavy look. He takes you to the bedroom and stays his cool, collected, and analytical self. He watches as your clothes drop to the floor and you climb onto the bed. For once, he hesitates and asks if you wanted this, not wanting to hurt or endanger you due to the wine you both consumed. So what you do next, is pull him in by the tie, kissing his cheek, his neck, as you unbutton his clothes and marvel at how gorgeous he is. Cyrus is younger than your former partners, so you can see why he hesitates. Kissing him once more, you guide him into laying down as you undo his lower garments, letting out a light gasp and laugh of surprise of how long and slender his penis is. Turns out the curtains match the drapes as well. Seeing his cock harden made your mouth water, so you indulge yourself in tasting him by swirling your tongue on the head of his penis first. He lets out a struggled breath as he relaxes in the warmth of your wet mouth. Cyrus tries to maintain composure but that's what you like about younger men. You like "breaking" them but in the nicest way possible. You slide your tongue from the bottom of his base before sliding it back up before relaxing your jaw and taking as much as you could handle at once. Cyrus lets out a loud gasp, momentarily bucking his hips into your mouth. You can't help but to smile a bit at how cute he was as you sucked him off. Cyrus does his best to stay quiet but he can't help but to groan and whimper at how good you feel. He lets out a shuddering sigh of contentment. It ends far too soon then he's ready for, you stop with a loud wet pop as you suck as hard as you can before stopping, leaving him wanting more than he can express. You smother his cock with with some lube, the bed shifts with your weight as you line your hole to his cock before going in for the full plunge and taking him all at once. You bite your bottom lip as you feel deliciously full and Cyrus throws his head back against the pillow. You had your intentions of going at your own pace, but Cyrus had other plans, his big hands grabbing you by your hips and fucking at a pace you hadn't expected from the younger man. Not your way anymore but his, as he used you like a pocket pussy. His cock hit all the right places, reaching far and deep inside of you, abusing that tight little bundle of nerves at the end, over and over, repeatedly at a breakneck pace. You're surprised at his stamina and speed but are reduced to gasping moans and cries. You cum before he does, milking his long cock as your gummy walls clench around him. When this happens, he loses all composure, somehow hitting you even harder than he was before, as many times as he could before he finally could reach his own release. He grunts loudly before plowing one last time, as far and deep as he could go. For a brief moment, the two of you catch your breath, basking in the soft afterglow of sex before you grinded your hips against him. "Up for round 2?" you ask, watching his eyes widen , his face turning red.

[blackjackkent]

All right, we have been hearing about Sharess's Caress since Act 1, we've guessed it was a brothel that whole time. It's time to watch Hector be the awkward nerd that he is and desperately try to achieve plot objectives in this situation.

Karlach is absolutely grinning before they even go in the door and preparing an imaginary bowl of popcorn.

Our actual goal here is to find Voss, which probably means I should bring Lae'zel, but we'll take a look around first.

The lady at the front desk perks up at seeing a new visitor:

"A weary traveler, battered and bruised," she croons pleasantly, looking him over. "You come for sustenance - no, *decadence*." She taps a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "A mien cool as ice, yet eyes burning hot. Oh, yes, I know your bliss..."

She straightens, her smile growing to a lascivious smirk. "A sturdy dwarf. A leather whip. She gives. You receive." She pouts her lips out and bats her eyelashes at him. "Or have I misjudged you?"

Hector stares at her; his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and he flushes dark crimson. Behind him, Karlach staggers away in a fit of laughter to go lean against the wall behind him. Shadowheart has both hands pressed to her mouth and is making a sort of strangled snorting noise. Jaheira is grinning openly at Hector's discomfiture, enjoying the show tremendously.

(A/N: Bahahahahahahahaha. A) Were Karlach absent, I am not entirely sure this woman is wrong. Like many of my male OCs, Hector is not, I think, particularly dominant in this sphere despite being a badass in other regards. B) Does this appraisal change depending on the character you're playing? Because "a mien cool as ice, yet eyes burning hot" is actually a pretty accurate read on how I've been trying to play Hector specifically and it would be really cool if the game discerned that dynamically.)

"Can we not talk about this?" Hector squeaks awkwardly, sending Karlach into another fit of giggles.

She clicks her tongue playfully. "Sweeting, are you blushing?" she says teasingly. "There's no shame in pleasure. Even less when the pleasure is pain." She waves a hand. "It's Ffion you seek - our 'Stern Librarian.' She isn't here today, alas. Your penance must wait."

(A/N: Oh my god. I don't know if this is dynamic based on Hector's Sage background or something about how I've played him up to this point, but if it isn't, the game got an amazing read on Hector entirely by accident, and either way it is KILLING me.)

"Well," the woman says casually, "we've other ways to fill your void. A drink, for one. A pair of drow, for another. Choose your sin."

Hilariously, these are the only available response options:

So... Hector stares at her for another moment and then forgoes his usual politeness and just turns around and walks away. 😂

[brooklynislandgirl]

TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER! I. Favourite Colours: Any shade of green {forest and emerald in particular}, black, silver, garnet. II. Favourite Flavours: Good coffee, deeply brewed tea, dark chocolate, coconut, and a 'scent flavour'... it's gonna either be beef being cooked on a fire, or specific to New Mexico... a crisp/cool afternoon when the sun is bright but not hot and you smell it...smoke, something earthy and green with an almost acidic bite if you breath it in just right. It's chile season, and it's being open roasted in giant metal roasters. And lastly, pinon. III. Favourite Genres: Most fantasy though with a penchant for High Fantasy. True Noir/ Mystery, Horror, History/Alternative History. I do enjoy Romance and Sci-Fi {typically golden and silver age are most often forgotten but truly a guilty pleasure} but tend to prefer them blended with a different genre. Poetry is entirely different and for me it's more like music than narrative fiction, though I do have a soft spot for the Romantics, and the Beat Generation. {You can have my Kerouac and my Ginsberg whence you've pried them from my cold, dead, yaddah yaddah}. And because I am a bastard, I'm going to ruin it all for you: Literally almost any Emily Dickinson poem can be read/sung to the tune of the Yellow Rose of Texas, or the theme to Gilligan's Island. You're welcome. IV. Favourite Music: Classical, Tribal Trap, Country, Grunge, Classic Rock {stfu, G-N-R and them are not YET classic rock}, 80s Rock/Metal. Broadway Musicals, Rap/R&B, really just about anything. Probably my favourite singers are Eddie Vedder {yes, I know}, Geoff Tate who's is utterly incredible even after 40 years. And honestly? Garth Brooks. V. Favourite Movies: SW: The Empire Strikes Back, Tombstone, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Strange Days, Highlander, CA:TWS, Doctor Strange, ST: The Undiscovered Country and just so so so many more. VI. Favourite Series: Constantine, Doom Patrol, Legends of Tomorrow, Supernatural, Babylon 5, Farscape, Loki, ST: DS9/TNG/TOS/SNW {Really all of them except Voyager and Discovery}, Salem, Original Charmed, Witches of East End, Burn Notice, Fargo, Resident Alien, Res Dogs, Longmire, Justified, Dallas {Original and Revival} and Dark Shadows {Original AND Revival}. Family Guy, Bob's Burgers {and Archer}. Robot Chicken. Lastly I'm also going to say the Orville, which yes is a sort of parody of Star Trek, but also an homage, and a surprisingly well written one. VII. Last Song: Paint it Black ~ Ciara cover, Superhero ~ Johnny Hollow VIII. Last Series: Loki Episode 1-Season 2 or American Gigolo Episode 1. IX. Last Movie: The Noel Diary, The Dark Knight trilogy X. Currently Reading: Ten Little Indians anthology by Sherman Alexie, Digitisation and Digital Archiving: A Practical Guide for Librarians {second ed.} by Elizabeth R Leggett, ¡Sin resolver! Misterios de la historia by Dona Herwick Rice. XI. Currently Watching: The Fall of the House of Usher, Loki, Resident Alien XII. Currently Working On: The 500 or so posts I owe across my blogs. I am so sorry for being absolute fail.

~*~ Tagged by: @nightmarefuele my sweet and disturbing C. Tagging: @fasciinating, @respondedinkind, @chiefofstafftanner, @smolcuriouskitten, @rhodestoruin, @lalamoon, @mouthoftheocean, @ifyoucatchacriminal, @morgansmornings and anyone who would like to do this!