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agentmarcuspike · 8 days

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dave york x babysitter!f!reader

summary: the kids you babysit have a hot dad. you want him. but he's married... cws: unfaithfulness (dave is married to carol), power imbalance (employer and employee), fainting, thigh grinding, fingering, reader wears a skirt, dad!dave and his kids, nicknames (baby, honey), reader sits in dave's lap, mention of blood, frottage kinda, one (1) shoulder bite word count: 2.7k divider by @thecutestgrotto thank you and shoutout to my cheerleaders on this, liv @5oh5 and han @swiftispunk <3 and my love @joelsversion for helping with the header <3

"Without touching his skin, How can I be guilty as sin?"

You hate being alone with Dave York.

There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s a perfectly pleasant, well-mannered man. His daughters, Molly and Alice, are angels when you look after them (mostly), and nothing Dave has ever said or done has made you uncomfortable. Your interactions are innocent and professional. And that’s exactly the problem.

There’s nothing wrong with him.

Because when you’re left alone together, in the evenings when his kids are asleep and he offers to drive you home, or in the mornings on the days he doesn’t work from home and he pours you a cup of coffee in the kitchen while you make the girls breakfast… you can’t stop your mind from wandering.

You’re not entirely sure what Mr. York does for work, but you know he must look good doing it. Prancing around the house in his fitted dress pants that hug his front and back just right. His loose dress shirt hiding the body you suspect is strong and strapping, based on the sounds coming from the garage when he tells you he’ll be working out. And those are just the parts you don’t get to see.

His hands, however, are always on full display. When they curl around that mug he hands you. His palm brushing the small of your back as he opens the door for you when you leave. Fingers tapping, sometimes only one on the steering wheel, when he drives you home. When he’s typing away at the computer in his home office, or brushing the hair out of his girls’ faces before kissing their heads goodnight on the nights that he makes it home in time. Oh, those fingers… and that ring.

The ring he wears as a promise to Carol, his wife, that he’ll always be faithful to her. You should know how much a promise like that means. Someone once promised you the same. To always be there, to never stray. But stray they did. And the pain of that is something you don’t wish on anyone.

So yes, you hate being alone with Dave York. Because he’s so close. You spend more hours in his house than your own, basically raising his kids. And he’s right there… but he’s not for you.

It has been a very long day, and yet the clock on the kitchen stove shows only 11:27. The girls have run through the garden sprinklers all morning, worn out and down for a nap already, a combination of heat and exhaustion making you wish you could do the same. The heat wave has lasted for days now, only alleviated by a few minutes of clouds during the worst hours.

Your bare thighs cling to the chair as you get up to clean up your lunch. It’s quick work, so you do the rest of the dishes too, even though it’s not your job. Warm soapy water prunes your fingers quickly, the only parts of your body not already damp with sweat. The house is rarely this quiet during the day, only the distant sounds of traffic from the main road blocks away filling the room, joining the splashing of water and clangs from dishes as you put them back into their cabinets. Some mornings you can hear Dave talking in his office, the sound carrying through the house. You can never make out what it is he’s talking about, only the low rumble of his voice sometimes plaited with other voices through computer speakers. He’s quiet today.

This heat is unbearable, you think, as you wipe your forehead with wet hands. Leaning on the counter, you take a deep breath. For a second your eyesight falters, and lightheadedness washes over you. Have you even had a glass of water today? You can feel your legs start to wobble, vision turning static, and you’ve just started swaying when–

“Hey, hey!”

A strong hand grabs your arm as you topple over, and you lean into Dave’s solid chest, letting him support your weight as you focus on your breathing.

“There you go, honey,” he soothes. “Deep breaths.”

His shirt smells crisp and clean, the scent interrupted by whiffs of soap and cologne from his skin underneath it, as you inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

“You okay?” His big hand draws circles on your back, still holding you up with the other.

“Just hot…” you manage, lifting your head up to see a concerned Dave look down at you with furrowed brows.

“Come lie down in my office for a bit, the AC is better in there.”

He supports you on your unsteady legs with an arm firmly around your waist, guiding you to his work room at the other end of the house. You’ve never really been in there, only stuck your head through the door to let him know you’re leaving at the end of the day.

The room is huge, especially for a home office. Floor to ceiling windows cover the far wall, his desk in the middle of the room, facing the door. Bookcases line the other walls, filled with mostly folders and what looks like heavy encyclopedias. In front of one of them is, of all things, a chaise lounge. What is he, a shrink? You’ve never seen him have anyone else in there, but for all you know he might as well be. He’s got the calm and steady presence you imagine one would need to be any kind of doctor.

“Here,” he says as he guides you over to the chaise, one big hand engulfing yours, the other supporting your neck as you lower yourself down.

“Let me get you some water.”

As he leaves the office again, you hurriedly smooth your skirt down, suddenly very aware of how much skin you’re showing. If you lift your knees your entire ass would be on display for him when he returns, but you know keeping your feet up will be good for the dizziness. You settle for an in-between, only one leg raised, and the other straight out, just as Dave returns, bottle in hand. He twists the cap open before he hands it to you.

“Thanks,” you breathe as you accept it, gulping down half the contents in one go. You hand the bottle back to him and he chugs the rest. Your eyes are fixed on his plush lips around the bottle opening that was just between your own. You wonder what they would feel like on your warm skin.

As he drinks, a stray droplet escapes from the side of his mouth, trickling down to his chin. It runs down the length of his throat, Adam’s apple bouncing when he swallows, and then the drop disappears underneath his shirt collar. Your mouth waters, yet you feel even thirstier. You’d like to rip his shirt off and lick the droplet off his chest, as if only that could quench your thirst. And you can’t help but feel… No, you can help it. You should. It’s completely inappropriate. He’s your employer, your boss, and he’s… so Goddamn good looking. Shit.

He crumples the empty plastic before throwing it away in the bin next to his desk. Slumping down in his office chair he turns his attention to the computer screen.

Typing away at his keyboard, you watch him. Doctor York? Professor York? You try to imagine him; teaching a class, doing paperwork at an office, running a store, being someone’s strict and authoritarian boss. The latter thought makes your legs clench together involuntarily.

“What do you do?”

The question escapes you before you can help it, and you cringe slightly at your own sudden bluntness.

“Sorry?”

“I just realized I don’t know what you do for work.”

He doesn’t look up from the screen when he speaks, but a subtle smile plays on his lips.

“If I told you I’d have to kill you.” You laugh.

“That would suck. Who would look after your kids?”

“I’d be on the run, so not me.”

“Carol, then. All alone. Poor Carol.”

“Yeah. Poor Carol…” he agrees, voice suddenly grave.

A few minutes pass, comfortable yet somehow charged silence surrounding you. When he speaks again, his tone shifts—still dark, but less grave.

"Ever been to Europe?" he asks, breaking the stillness.

The unexpected question leaves you momentarily flustered.

“Uh, yeah, I, uhm… I went backpacking there a million years ago,” you stutter.

His eyes narrow slightly. "Really?"

“Why is that so hard to believe?" you challenge, squinting back at him.

“Just a little surprising, I suppose.”

He meets your gaze without flinching, a spark of something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes.

“I’m actually planning a trip to Belgium. Come have a look at this.”

He beckons you closer with two fingers, the gesture innocent and yet, paired with your clouded judgment and current state of mind, borderline obscene.

Carefully, you put your two feet down on the floor, taking a moment to test your balance. Once confident you won’t topple over again, you step over to his side of the workspace. You lean over his desk, one hand on the table and one on the armrest of the office chair he’s seated in, squinting at the screen. It’s probably very interesting, pictures and lists of things to do and see abroad, but the only thing you can focus on is the sliver of ass you know is revealed when you bend over in this particular skirt. You’d usually wear something more work appropriate, even just a pair of hot pants underneath. But this weather… This heat…

Dave’s gaze is just as scorching as he awaits your reaction, and you can tell he’s working hard not to let his eyes wander. Just like you do, when from the corner of your eye you spot his hand moving absentmindedly up and down his thigh, resting a little too long at the top, thumb grazing his groin.

“Want me to bring you something back?” he asks, voice low, close to a whisper, as if worried someone could hear him.

You shift your weight from one leg to the other, giving your feet a little more space between them, making room between your thighs. Suddenly, his fingers graze the insides of your thighs and his hand trails upwards, coming to rest over the wet patch of your underwear, damp from your excitement or from the temperature you’re not sure. An audible sigh escapes you at the contact. He responds with a groan of his own as he starts drawing circles over your clothed clit.

“I’ve heard they have great chocolate,” you stutter in response to his question.

“Yeah? You got a sweet tooth?”

You wish desperately he would touch your skin, and try to angle your hips so he can slip a finger under your panties, but he just follows your movements, touching you through the fabric. You only hum in response.

“God, this isn’t right…” you hear him whisper to himself. You don’t disagree, yet neither of you make a move to stop.

His hands move to rest on your hips, and he slowly turns you to face him. Soft fingers grip you tightly. The insides of his legs brush the bare skin of your own, making you shiver despite the heat. Your eyes flutter shut.

“Look at me,” he says, pleading. So you do. The darkness of his eyes pull you in, and you’re almost taken over by the urge to lean down and kiss him. As you start to bend down, one hand resting on his shoulder, his hands on your hips keep you in place. At a distance.

“Tell me we shouldn’t do this.” His eyes rake over your body, taking you in, short fingernails digging into your skin. “Tell me this is wrong.”

It wouldn’t be a lie. It really is, and you really shouldn’t. So you’re not sure why throw one leg over his and straddle his thigh. A buzz shoots through you as your swollen core meets the tight muscle of his leg. You’re so close to him like this. So close you can feel the warm puffs of his quickened breath fan your skin, with a faint scent of coffee, toothpaste, and something else, indistinct but distinctly Dave.

Details of his complexion you’ve never noticed before become clear. The worry lines between his brows. The sharp curve of his cupid’s bow. The few hairs he’d missed while shaving, probably in a hurry, that morning.

Almost unwillingly your hips start drawing small circles, chasing release. Dave’s hands haven’t moved an inch, still gripping your hips, following your movements. His eyes are fixed at where your legs clasp around his own, soft movements growing erratic as your pleasure pulls you further.

Under his clothes he’s fully hard now, the fabric of his dress pants stretching around his erection. You imagine the weight of him in your hand, how your fingers would barely meet around his shaft when you jerk him off. You shift forward, thrusting, wanting desperately to feel him, but he holds you in place, pulling his own hips away from you.

“Nuh-uh.” One of his hands releases its grip on you and rises to gently cup your face. The tips of his fingers barely brush your skin. “Not like that.”

“What?” you breathe.

“Just…” Dave’s face contorts slightly as he sighs. “Just take what you need. What you want.”

You continue to grind on his thick thigh, drenching his trousers with each movement. Back and forth, clenching around nothing. As your breath quickens, you hunch over more and more, forehead eventually landing on Dave’s shoulder. Your teeth come down on the soft flesh of your cheek, and you chew, molars slicing through the skin until you taste blood.

“Come on,” he purrs, his voice hoarse and vibrating in your ear. “Come on, baby, give it to me.”

“I’m gonna–

Your mouth falls open in silent moan, and you bite down on his shoulder to keep from making a sound, soaking his already damp cotton shirt in saliva and drops of blood from the inside of your mouth. His grip on your hips is relentless, and he groans through his gritted teeth as you fall over the edge.

“Fucking… come… on.”

And you do.

Your thighs clench around Dave’s, and you can feel him tense up as well, sending new waves of pleasure through your core. The buzzing vibration runs from your middle, through your spine, and sets off another spark at the very top of your skull. Your hairs stand up, goosebumps. The blood pumping in your ears deafens you momentarily.

With your nose buried in his neck, nuzzled behind his ear, you take a few breaths to restrain yourself. His hands are looser on you now, thumbs drawing small circles on your hip bones. His chest rises and falls underneath you, slowing in time with yours.

And just as you’re about to lift your head from his shoulder, not quite ready to face the reality of what has just happened, what you’ve done, someone else breaks the silence.

“Daddy!”

Molly’s sleepy voice is unmistakable from down the hall. Dave’s hands are off you in a second, and you barely have time to react before he’s on his feet.

“Dave, I’ll take her–”

But he’s already out the door.

Once you’ve flattened your skirt and straightened up in the hallway bathroom, you find them in the kitchen. Molly is blabbering, Alice yawning, while Dave is listening and laughing, arranging their lunch in funny shapes on their plates. Cucumbers for eyes, a slice of bell pepper for a pair of red lips, a piece of mushroom becomes the nose. The children giggle at their Dad’s shenanigans.

You stand in the doorway, observing. Domestic bliss. They’re not your kids and he’s not your husband, and this moment is not for you. As the kids’ laughter and the clang of kitchenware reverberates through the open kitchen, you catch yourself wondering how Dave will explain the stains you made on his clothes to Carol.

taglist:

@hellfire-state-of-mind @janaispunk @joelscruff @takochansugoi @paanchusblog

@pastelpinkflowerlife @mountainsandmayhem @inept-the-magnificent @bitccchmood @sullyselena

@akjnoris @teanbean521 @joelalorian @lucifurrr @theetherealbloom

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@sweetperfectioncloud @hannahkatharine @fandomoniumflurry @emisreadingstuff @knopes-waffles

@your-teeth-glow-in-the-dark @rsquared31 @r3dheadedwitch @alejaa-a @myhappyplaceofstuff

@yodasgreenthumb @dovedewdrop @saradika @clawdee @harrisonispunk

@lostfleurs @always-andromeda @amanitacowboy

#dave york #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york x female reader #equalizer 2 #my writing #ahhhhhhhHHHHHHH

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astermath · 1 year

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“So? Whatever.” pt.3

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: you and dave grow closer and you both share stories and secrets. one faithful night, when he’s got nowhere else to go, he reveals his biggest one.

word count: 1.7K

warnings: mentions of blood and injuries

♡ LANDING PAGE ♡

notes: this is probably the final one in this series, but I’ll definitely be writing some blurbs and whatnot using the popular!reader. any requests or things you want to see between these two, or just dave, are welcome in my asks!! thank you for the sweet comments and reblogs, they mean the world to me, hope you enjoy!! <3

Meeting Dave at your house had now become a weekly occurrence.

Every Saturday he’d stop by for a “tutoring session”, backpack filled with new comics and sometimes collectibles, usually bought with the money you gave him for his time. You’d started enjoying your time together so much that you started bailing on party plans or shopping trips, raising some suspicions from your friends as to what you were up to. You simply said you were focusing more on school to finish the year off properly. Which would be a decent excuse if your grades were actually improving, which they weren’t exactly.

Your Saturdays were usually spent on the carpeted floor of your room, pages spread as excited voices filled the space, talking about your favorite arcs and discussing who the best supervillain really was.

You had easily become one of Dave’s favorite people to spend time with outside of his vigilante duties, and the feeling was mutual. A crush had started brewing between you two, but neither of you wanted to admit to it. Not just because your worlds outside the safe space of your bedroom were so vastly different, but because you didn’t want to ruin this perfectly good thing you had going on with each other. Even if it meant suppressing the urge to ask him to stay the night, or him pushing away thoughts of kissing you before he’d leave, it was for the best.

Dave had grown so fond of you, you’d shared so much about yourself. You’d opened up about your insecurities, about how competitive cheerleading had affected your mental health, how you hated how your father was away so much for work, how you felt trapped by your reputation... All these things you could never talk about before, they were safe with him.

That’s why Dave felt so ridden with guilt any time you would share things like that with him. Because he was essentially just... Lying to you. You had no idea he was Kickass, at least that’s what he hoped, and the thought of you resenting him for it was eating away at him. If you knew what he was doing when you weren’t there, if you found out about this entire other persona, there was no way you’d still want to spend time with him. At best, you’d turn him in to the police, and he’d never see you again.

But something inside his head, something really stupid and naïve was telling him you’d accept him.

That really stupid part was also in love with you.

Dave’s text messages had been less frequent lately, further adding to your worries about what he’d been up to. He’d cancelled multiple times in the past few weeks, something he’d never done before, and when you asked what he was doing he got so nervous. He’d usually just give some strange excuse or said his dad needed him to be home with all the crime that’s been going on. But that wouldn’t explain the bruises you’d notice on his arms when he took his jacket off, which he’d quickly try to cover by pulling down his sleeves. You’d asked your brother if him or any of his friends had been messing with him, threatening to light his jerseys on fire if he lied about it.

“The fuck would I know about what your boyfriend’s been up to?” He spat, upset that you were bothering him with this at all.

“He’s not my boyfriend, shithead!” You yelled, throwing a pillow at his head.

But damn, did you wish he was.

You sat in your room, flipping through the pages of the collector’s edition Spider-man comic Dave had gifted you months ago. Your fingers traced across the lines of the damaged paper, wondering if he really bought it like this or some asshole at school did this to it. For someone so secretly strong he sure let a lot of people fuck with him.

You thought back at all your years in high school where you deliberately ignored him or even allowed your friends to make fun of him. You wished you could turn back time and give him a chance earlier on, maybe be able to spend more time with him now that he seemed too busy for you now.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock against your window. You didn’t respond at first, thinking you imagined it, but when the sound returned a bit louder you got up. You squinted, finding it a bit hard to see who or what was outside your window when it was so dark outside. You approached and realized it was Dave, looking a bit panicked. You didn’t even think much about it, sliding your window up so you could talk to him. “Dave! Where the fuck have you--”

“Can I please come in?” He interrupted, his breath ragged, looking like a mess. It was only now you noticed the bruises and the cut across his cheek. You nodded, moving aside so he could come in. He struggled, limping a little, and you turned back around to close the window, hearing him take off his jacket and drop his bag.

“What the hell were you even--” Your own sentence was cut short when you were met with a sight you had not expected. Your eyes widened and your expression changed into one of shock and worry.

There he was, full Kickass attire, no mask.

And everything clicked.

The random bruises, the comic book obsession, his secret strength, his sudden disappearances...

A heavy silence filled the room, the only sounds present his rough breathing as he put a hand against your bedpost to keep standing.

“Is... Is this why you’ve been so busy?” Your voice sounded hurt, betrayed even. “You’ve been fighting people?”

Dave struggled to get any words out. He’d hoped he’d never have to do this, but he had nowhere else to go, and you deserved to know the truth. He looked to the side in shame, sighing. “I’ve... Been meaning to tell you. For a while now, I promise, I just... It all escalated so much, I never meant for it to become such a big lie.”

You looked at each other, and Dave’s heart literally ached at the sight of your teary eyes. Or maybe it was the cracked rib that was doing that, who knows honestly.

“Sit down.” You said, pointing at your bed.

“W-What? I don’t--”

“Sit. Down.” Your voice demanded, eyes meeting his with a look he’d never experienced from anyone before, not even when he was getting his life threatened by criminals.

He gently sat down on your bed, groaning slightly at the movement straining his injuries. You silently walked to your bathroom and took out the first aid kit from below the sink. You sat down next to him on the bed as Dave kept his head down in shame. He was certain he’d cry if he saw the expression on your face right now.

“Take it off. The top part.”

He didn’t say anything, reaching behind him and unzipping the back, peeling the layer of clothing off his body and revealing a wide array of injuries. Normally you’d be excited to see him shirtless, his toned body surprising you, but right now all you felt was hurt. You put some rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad and gently patted the cut on his shoulder. Despite your anger, your grip on his arm was soft.

He winced slightly at the burning feeling, looking at you and seeing a few tears roll down your cheeks. “Hey, I’m... I’m really sorry.” He spoke softly as you prepared a bandage. He said your name so gently, so sweetly, that you almost wanted to kiss him, if you weren’t so upset. “Everything got so real, and I met other vigilantes, other people like me... It started taking up so much time, I felt bad, and I couldn’t just abandon it, so...”

“So you abandoned me instead?” You finally looked up to face him. You were still holding his arm, and even like this, crying and upset, he thought you looked so beautiful.

“I...” He felt his own eyes start watering. “I would never abandon you...” His hand reached out to rest over your back. “No matter what, I swear, I would never give up what we have...” He gently pulled you in, hugging you so softly, a bit hesitant.

You leaned in closer, head against his bare chest as you started calming down. He didn’t hate you, he didn’t leave, he was there, right there. You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat as he reached down to rest his face against the top of your head, the gentle scent of your shampoo calming him as well. You stayed just like that for a few minutes, holding each other. Nothing else in the world mattered, everything you wanted was right there in the room with you.

You gently pulled back, and Dave was certain he’d be met with either a slap or a finger pointing to the window to get out.

Both of those guesses were wrong.

You leaned in, lips meeting his in the softest, gentlest most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. No lust, no intentions other than to just feel closer to him. Your mouth opened slightly and Dave leaned in more, a hand reaching out to rest on your cheek as yours sneaked into his brown curls. A warmth had spread through your body, mind running blank, until you gently pulled away.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” You whispered against his lips.

“Yeah...” He whispered back. “Me too...” The both of you leaned back in, passion growing as your breathing became heavier and the kiss became more intense. His arms snaked around your waist and you moved onto his lap, straddling him. He didn’t care if it hurt, all he wanted was to be even closer to you, to never let you go.

You pulled away and looked into his eyes, before a soft smile appeared on your face. “You know I’d never hate you, Dave...” You reach out to gently touch his cheek, and he melts into your hand, tilting his head slightly to lean into it.

“I really thought you would...” He smiled. That adorable, nerdy, slightly nervous smile that you’d grown to love.

“Of course not...” You grin. “In fact...” You leaned in closer to his ear. “I always thought Kickass was kinda hot...”

Heat rises to his face, and his grip on your waist strengthens just a bit at your lustful tone.

He gained another ally that night. His most valuable one, for sure.

tag list <3

@nephilimsss @tangerinesgf @dynamitehacke @izzyisstuff @cinawoah @amoebagrl @ykyouluvme @stilloverthinking @erodastylinson @reneehillary69

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brawnie · 7 months

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The thing is Hal would ruin Rose’s life. He would throw her own psychobabble back in her face and rip apart and dissect every long winded thing she said and it would send her into a mental breakdown. But Hal would be Dave’s best friend and biggest cheerleader. They would write terrible raps together and Hal would justify Dave’s every move and hype him up constantly ESPECIALLY when he was being stupid and lame.

#Hal seeing a TT: god I fucking hate you. selfish terrible piece of shit. Hal seeing a TG: omg hiiiii *twirls hair*#homestuck #Hal strider #striders #rose lalonde #Dave strider #lil hal

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year

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Hey There Jealousy.

You're part of Hellfire with a big crush on Eddie, he doesn't feel the same and you deal with unrequited feelings until a date with someone else triggers unexpected reactions. ✨

Warnings; Angst, jealousy, fighting, fluffy goodness. Not S4 compliant.

Please like or reblog, etc if you enjoyed this ❤️🌸

I don't give anyone permission to copy my work.

❤️❤️

You had been in Hellfire for the last two years, it was your senior year and things were going pretty great.

When you first joined the group you didn't know what to expect, Gareth was the one who had found out that you were a huge dnd fan and always played with the kids you were babysitting at the time.

One of them happened to be his younger cousin Dave who raved about you to Gareth, it was then decided you would tag along to Hellfire.

None of your friends could understand why you wanted to join but you ignored their doom-filled predictions of it being a cult or whatever bullshit they heard from Jason.

Eddie was hesitant at first until you played your first campaign and knocked everyone's expectations out of the water.

Now you were one of Eddie's valued teammates and the tiny itty bitty crush you had on Eddie when you first met? Now it was full-blown feelings and you were screwed.

Because he didn't think of you like that, he had crushes on Chrissy Cunningham, other cheerleaders, hookups with girls in bands and at The Hideout where he would play with his band Corroded Coffin.

It hurt, seeing him with those girls hurt, it was expected though. You were just his friend, he was older and in a cool band and despite what Jason and his Neanderthal friends thought and called him- "the freak" garnered a lot of intrigue.

He was also gorgeous, with beautiful brown doe eyes, shaggy brown hair, tattoos and dimples. Eddie was fucking hot.

So yeah, you were screwed.

❤️❤️

Dustin never thought he would be speaking one and one with Chrissy Cunningham. He knew you were friends with her and Eddie a little bit too but it still felt surreal.

You and Eddie. That was the reason the two of them were conspiring together in the first place.

"Look, I like Eddie, he's a sweet guy but the fact that he doesn't notice how gone my girl is for him is frustrating" Dustin nods.

"What do you want to do about it? If he's not interested then you can't force him to be Chrissy" she nods.

"I know. Eddie Munson despite what yn seems to think isn't the only guy in the whole universe, others have noticed how cute she is"

This intrigues Dustin. Was it Steve? He knew Steve thought you were hot.

"You know Matt? He's on the basketball team? One of Jason's friends. He's one of them" Dustins eyes widen.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Chrissy smiles.

"We don't have to do anything. Matt is going to ask her out. Either Eddie feels something or he doesn't, either way..."

Either way, you would either get your dream guy or a chance to move on for good. Dustin liked you a lot and wanted you to find happiness, whether it was with Eddie, Matt or whoever you wanted to be with.

He was nervous but ready to see what happened.

❤️❤️

"Hey" You're shocked into silence as Matt comes over, he's like one of the most popular guys in school besides Jason and yeah you're meant to be tutoring him tonight but you didn't expect him to want to hang out beyond that.

Did he want to hang out with Hellfire? Immediately you notice Eddie tense, defences up and you don't blame him, the basketball team has a few jerks in it.

Besides Lucas of course. You adored Lucas as well as Mike and Dustin.

Matt has never been hostile though so you smile encouragingly while Eddie glares at the newcomer.

"Hey, I know we were meant to be studying tonight but I saw on your bag that you like horror movies, there's a showing of some classic horror movies tonight. You wanna go?"

Okay, this you weren't expecting. He rests his hand on your arm and his thumb strokes over your shoulder, it tingles and you feel flustered and also acutely aware of Eddie's raised eyebrow as he watches you both.

Chrissy is watching too giving you a thumbs-up gesture and you make a decision.

"I'd love to" you find yourself saying and Matt grins.

"Cool, I'll see you after class" You watch him go feeling like you're in some strange dream.

"Did that really just happen?" you ask the others who look between you and then Eddie.

"You've been swayed to the dark side. Yeah, it did" Eddie huffs and you roll your eyes.

"I have not. He is cute though" You sigh dreamily, it's nice having someone notice you.

"He was all over you in Ms O'Donnell's class. Someone's got a crush" Jeff teases and the others join in on the light hearted teasing.

Except for Eddie, who's quiet and munching on a bag of pretzels while he glares in the direction of the Jock table.

"We were just talking, he was asking me for help studying. I help Eddie so why not?" Gareth grins.

"Mmm and now you're off to the movies, a horror movie. That you'll not be watching because of all the... He makes a kissy face and you giggle.

"Dingus" would that happen though? Your belly flutters.

"Shut up! " Eddie snaps and the others quieten and your heart rate spikes because he looks so annoyed and you wonder if it's about you and Matt.

"We were discussing the campaign" he points out and your heart sinks, right Hellfire. It was silly of you to think he might be jealous. Why would he be?

After school, you meet up with Matt to head to the cinema.

Maybe this will be a good thing and you will be able to finally move on from Eddie?

❤️❤️

Eddie was invited to tag along with Robin and Steve to see The Blob.

How was he supposed to know that you would be at this movie with Matt? He felt like an idiot for staying and semi-spying on your date.

He tried to leave but the harsh twist of his heart when you laughed at Matt's jokes kept him rooted to the spot as well as Steve and Robin who wanted to see the movie.

Eddie didn't know why the sight of you and Matt together made his stomach bottom out but he was beginning to get a good idea.

He couldn't concentrate on the movie. It felt like that time that you were crushing on Steve for weeks and that kick started Eddie's dislike of the dude.

Until he got to know him and realized he was a pretty cool guy, Dustin's hero-worshipping of Steve too had stuck in his brain.

"Dude you didn't tell me that yn was looking to date someone. Could have asked her myself" Steve nudges him and nods to you and Matt.

Wait so Steve liked you as well? The urge to dislike Steve comes racing back. He kinda wants to hit something.

"You like her?" he asks Steve who shrugs.

"Dude, she's hot. You've never noticed?" he thinks about this and he's always known that you're beautiful, he's never liked anyone noticing you but assumed it was just him being protective.

Eddie doesn't think the pain in his chest could get any worse until Matt kisses you and he finally understands what it feels like to get his heart ripped out.

Stumbling out of the cinema he's joined by Robin and Steve, he feels like he can't breathe and the image of Matt kissing you won't go away.

"What's wrong with him?" Robin panics and Steve pats his back.

"Think he just realised he's in love Robin"

Love? he was in love with you? At first, he's like when the fuck did that happen.

Then be thought about it and maybe it was every time you smiled or you laughed or when you would fall asleep on his bed after helping him study and look so beautiful he was mesmerized.

Maybe it was your kindness, the way you played a kickass game of Hellfire or the way you looked at him on nights when it was just the two of you in his bedroom while he strummed on the guitar and taught you how to play.

Jesus Christ, he was an idiot.

❤️❤️

Eddie had been weird for the whole week and that was all you could think about tonight.

Your date with Matt had turned into a second and now this third date.

It was nice you kept telling yourself along with the fact that Matt was a lovely guy.

That's why you were at this party instead of at Hellfire, though you'd rather be with the boys and Erica in the middle of a campaign.

Despite Chrissy being here which made you feel more relaxed you knew this wasn't your thing at all.

It didn't help that after half an hour Matt was already drunk and he kept trying to feel you up even you told him no.

Your good opinion of him was rapidly fading with him acting more and more like a douche bag.

You had said no three times now and you were pissed.

"Come on babe" you shake your head and when he almost knocks you over and you hit your side on the table creating a rip in your dress you decide you've had enough of the party.

And of Matt.

"I said no! God, we are so done" You snap and tug out of his arms, you ignore him and stalk away, you're so upset that you don't realise how far you've walked into the woods until you can't hear anything from the party.

Shit.

❤️❤️

You hadn't shown up for Hellfire and that was Eddie's first distraction of the night, many more were to come but this was the first and all he could think about was you with Matt.

Jealousy coils around his gut and once again he curses his stupidity for not realizing his feelings sooner. It made him pissed off, it was hard to concentrate and he wasn't happy.

Eddie startles out of his DM mode as Lucas comes running into the drama room, he's just about to unload on him for missing half an hour of Hellfire but the look on his face stops him.

"Sinclair what's wrong?'' that's when Lucas tells him you were at a party with Matt, he's drunk and you're missing.

Then Chrissy comes in and rushes over to Dustin, it's like he's in some episode of the Twilight Zone.

"Dustin! Big mistake with Matt, he's an asshole he kept trying to grope yn at the party and she left and I can't find her" Chrissy was panicking and Dustin looks to Eddie freaked out.

Trying to tamper down the thoughts of beating the shit out of Matt he assures Chrissy, Dustin and Lucas that he will find you.

"Jordan said that she ran into the woods, Eddie" Lucas tells him and Eddie high-tails it to his van.

He had to find you. It was starting to rain and you could get sick or anything. What if you got lost? What if you tripped and injured yourself or you... He freezes.

What if the monster that stalked Hawkins Woods got to you? Normally he would have said that it was a load of rumours and shit but everyone knew Hawkins was one strange little town.

All the deaths. He couldn't risk you being hurt and he drove even faster. Desperate to get to you.

❤️❤️

You're shivering and chilled to the bone but you manage to find a clearing in the woods that leads back to the party.

It feels like you've been lost for hours but it probably hasn't been that long and you're relieved when you see a bunch of parties goers

That's when you also see Eddie, flashlight in hand and he shouts your name in relief.

He runs to you and you stumble into his arms sobbing in relief. The feeling of familiarity of Eddie's arms around you immediately makes you feel safe.

"It's okay princess. I've got you, you're safe" he checks you over and you assure him you're fine.

"You're soaked and look at all the rips on your clothes," he says worriedly and shrugs off his jacket placing it around you. The rain is fiercer now, a storm is brewing and you look anxiously at him.

He will catch a cold just standing in his Hellfire shirt and jeans, you try to tell him that but he stubbornely refuses to take his jacket back.

"Chrissy and Lucas explained everything. If I see that douchebag Matt he better run the other way" Eddie seethes, you've never seen him this angry before. It's not like him.

Well, that's a lie you tell yourself as you know how protective he is of you. How many scrapes he's gotten himself in for you, even if he had no chance in winning, he would defend you.

Even when he knew you could take care of yourself he still protected you.

At that point, possibly in the worst timing ever Matt stumbles over to you.

Eddie stiffens and Matt glares at you.

"You finally decided to have a go after all huh? Instead of acting like a frigid bit... He didn't get a chance to finish that sentence as Eddie socked him in the mouth.

He wines flexing his hand which is now bruised and sore.

"Fucking worth it" he announces, puts his arm around you and leads you to the van.

❤️❤️

You had never been so glad to see Eddie's Uncle Wayne in your life. He takes in the rips on your outfit and the bruise on your arm and scowls.

"What boy is my nephew beating up this time honey?" you would smile if you weren't so cold.

Eddie comes in and you immediately take his hands in yours and inspect his bruised knuckles.

"Are you okay?" you ask him and he nods still looking pissed off. He softens as you clean and bandage up the knuckles.

"Never mind me, sweetheart. Are you okay?" he asks you and you nod still a bit shivery. Uncle Wayne gets you a blanket and you cuddle into it.

"I'm better now. Should have never gone to that party. The whole time I was there I just wanted to be at Hellfire but I thought Matt was a nice guy and wanted to stick around for a bit, then he got drunk and acted like a dick"

Tears fall down your cheeks, frustration and just total exhaustion from the night's events.

Eddie deftly leads you to his room and shuts the door. Once you are inside he holds you close to him.

"I thought I had found a great guy and that he liked me when all he wanted to do was get in my pants. He didn't want to get to know me, not really" Eddie rubs your arm soothingly

"Maybe the next guy will be better huh?" you say hopefully and Eddie goes still which confused you.

"Eddie?" he swallows as he stares at you and you clasp his hand in yours.

"I don't want there to be another guy sweetheart. I want there to be just one guy. I want to be that guy"

What? He continues speaking and you can't believe what's happening.

"I know it took forever for me to realise and I've been so fucking jealous all week of Matt because he doesn't get how special and kind and beautiful you are and how lucky he was to be with you and the dude messed it up? What a douchebag"

"Eddie," you say again and he looks at you with those pretty brown eyes all wide and nervous.

"You don't feel the same right? Shit, forget I said anything and.." you call his name again and this time he quietens.

"Kiss me" He doesn't need to be told twice his lips are on yours and he grins as you kiss him back, he pulls away briefly.

"I'm sorry I didn't realise sooner princess" You rest your head on his chest as he pulls you into a hug, arms wrapped tightly around you as you sit on his knee.

"Hey less apologizing and more kisses" He laughs and kisses you again, his thumb stroking your cheek as he presses tender kisses to your lips.

"I'm an idiot. Should have been kissing you like this for weeks, feels so good sweetheart, it's never felt like this, just so right"

You smile on cloud nine knowing what he means, kissing Matt while nice and all never felt like this. However all thoughts are wiped from your mind when you straddle Eddie and his breathy moans cause the ache in your core to deepen.

"I love you and I'm gonna be kissing you forever sweetheart, hope you know that," he tells you and the thought of forever with the man you love sounds heavenly.

"I love you Eds, and that sounds perfect to me"

❤️

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you

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whositmcwhatsit · 1 month

Text

Since this started out as a birthday fic, I really wanted to get Chapter 2 done in time for my birthday, but I missed my deadline by 4 days.

Never mind.

Thanks, as ever, to the cheerleading and alpha-reading of @thatbanditqueen, who bestowed the glowing critique of 'tolerable' to this labour of love.

Anyone needing to catch up, here is Chapter One

Chapter Two

For two weeks after the night Aurora barged into Elvis Presley’s house and somehow didn’t get chased out by security, the ladies at the hair salon would ask her every day if she had heard from him.

At first, when she told them no, they would smile gleefully and say it was going to happen any day, after all he must have asked for her number for a reason. Then, the smiles began to dim and they would start to make excuses to make her feel better. She felt like she was letting them down each time she had to answer in the negative. There was no space to feel her own disappointment because she was carrying enough for other people.

After that two weeks, it petered out into sympathetic looks and attempts to ‘cheer her up’. Honestly, Aurora didn’t need the cheering up, though of course she took all the free food and extra tips that were offered. It had been a strange, fun, surreal experience, but men like Elvis didn’t call back girls like her. She had already got way more than she deserved.

Joanne showed up just before closing one Thursday when even the sympathy was beginning to fade and Aurora was sadly eyeing the dip in her tips. Joanne threw herself into Aurora’s chair, studying her Farrah bangs with a critical eye in the mirror and trying to rake the volume back into them with her fingers.

Aurora nudged her legs out of the way with her hip as she swept under the vanity, feeling tired, hot and impatient after a long day. She was envisioning a cold shower and laying flat on the back porch with the noisy fan, maybe sneaking a beer from the ice box before her mama got home.

“You’ll never guess who I bumped into last night,” Joanne began.

“Probably not,” Aurora agreed, shoving the broom into the closet and going to collect her purse from the poky kitchen in the back.

“That guy Dave? Elvis Dave.” Aurora wondered how he would feel to know that he had that nickname while ignoring the way her stomach swooped at just the ‘e word’. “I was at the gas station with Beverly from work and he pulled up in that sweet ride of his and blocked me in.”

Aurora was trying to feign nonchalance as she felt Joanne’s eyes studying her intensely in the mirror.

“Why? Did he even call you after that night?”

“Nope, and I didn’t expect him to since I didn’t give him my number and we’re not in the book. You guys aren’t either, are you?”

“No, Mama thinks having a lady’s name in the phone book is like advertising that you’re easy pickings for creeps and weirdos.”

Joanne nodded, because they had known each other long enough that Aurora’s mama and her ‘interesting’ ideas were not a revelation.

“So, giving Elvis the wrong number, was that a brush-off?”

“What?”

“Dave said that the number you gave Elvis was for a store, a hardware place or paint… something like that.”

Trying to force her brain back through the hot sludge of the days since, Aurora was sure that she had written down the right number. Or had she? Her penmanship was not going to win any awards on a good day. At dawn after an eventful night…

“So, it was a mistake?” Joanne asked as they stepped out into the dripping heat of the late afternoon and walked across the parking lot to Aurora’s busted old Pontiac GTO. Aurora eyed the dented fender ruefully and ran her hand over the dusty hood as if in apology.

“Oh my God!” She covered her burning face with her hands, laughing slightly manically. “I’m such a loser!” What must he have thought of her?! Wait, he had called her! A dam had broken in her brain and all the thoughts were rushing and swirling around, taking out any sensible notions in their path.

“Well, that’s good, ‘cause I gave Dave the right one.”

“What?”

“You made a mistake giving him the wrong number?” Joanne was a smart girl. Street smart anyway, but that was probably the dumbest question she had ever asked.

“Yes!”

Despite the overly airy way Joanne said it, it hit Aurora like she had put force into it. The way her stomach swooped was unexpected since she had even been denying to herself that she was upset by the radio silence. For a brief, quavering moment she let herself get excited, maybe even a little bit hopeful, before practicality rammed down to crush those emotions into tiny specks. It was stupid, it was all so stupid: her jolting whenever the phone rang, the relief at realizing she had given him the wrong number and that he had tried to call her, the excitement that he might try again.

At no point in Aurora’s years on Earth had anyone or anything ever been cruel enough to lie to her about her station in life or what she should expect from it. No, God had been kind and straight with her from the get-go: His plan for her was basic, a very rough draft if you will, a couple of words scribbled on an old envelope.

“So, you gonna come out?” Joanne asked, fiddling with the fringe of her purse. “Or you thinking you’ll head home and wait by the phone?” Aurora rolled her eyes as she opened the creaking car door and dropped into the oven-like interior.

“I am gonna go home, take a cold shower and probably pass out in front of the tv,” she corrected.

“Sure you are.” Joanne leant in the window and poked her index finger against Aurora’s forehead, laughing as Aurora swatted it away. “Drive safe rushing home to wait by the phone.”

“Only thing I’m in danger of is cracking a headlight driving it into your smart ass!”

Joanne’s cackle traveled across the mainly deserted lot, the nail polish of her extended middle finger catching the light just beautifully. Aurora snorted as she turned over the car, praying through the warm-up grinding and growling.

“C’mon, baby, don’t let me down,” she murmured to the dash, patting the wheel appeasingly. “You can do it.”

It took a few more seconds of sweat sliding into uncomfortable places before the engine finally caught and the car revved. Aurora let out the warm, stale air she’d been holding in her lungs and peeled out, eager to catch the breeze through her open window.

The phone was ringing when she pulled up at the house.

Without thinking about it, she left the car in neutral and shot inside, leaving all the doors open between her and the receiver.

“Hello?” She was afraid that she might not be able to hear the caller because of the swirling whooshing sound of her blood pumping around her body and her heart pounding in her ears, but her grandma came through crisp and clear, complaining that her fan wasn’t working properly and that Aurora’s cousin Denny had promised to come round and take a look at it, but had not shown up yet. It was all Aurora could do to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Tapping her fingers against the formica surface of the telephone table, Aurora willed Denny and his lazy ass to show up so that Grandma would get off the phone to yell at him instead, but of course that little shit was probably already out, fumigating some bar or disco with his Old Spice.

Biting down on a sigh, Aurora reached out with her leg and hooked a chair from the kitchen with her foot and dragged it over so that she could rest her weary legs as her grandma started talking about which of her friends had died, lost their husbands or bailed their grandkids out of jail this week.

Nearly an hour later, still cursing Denny, Grandma announced that she didn’t want to waste any more of Aurora’s time, because no one wants to hear a silly old woman prattling on, and Aurora of course told her she wasn’t silly or old and she loved her and loved talking to her, which earned her another thirty minutes on the phone before she finally managed to hang up. Her elbow ached, her hand was numb in patches and the hair around her ear was damp with sweat. And Elvis had probably called another girl by now, some beauty queen whose grandma never tied up her phone line.

Weary in every way, she trudged through the little one storey house, returning out front to grab her car keys out of the ignition and shut the door. Brian, who used to go to school with her brother, lifted his beer bottle up at her from where he was sitting on the steps of his front porch across the street and she threw up her hand as she turned to go back into the house.

Mama got home later, complaining about her manager and the new girl whose cash desk hadn’t come out even at the end of her shift.

“It’s not like she even has to add up the change in her little pea brain!” she ranted, leaning over the pot of spaghetti that Aurora had thrown together earlier. “Spaghetti, in this heat, Rora?”

“Nothing else,” Aurora shrugged. “I’ll pick up some groceries after work.” She fought very hard not to point out that her mother worked in a damn store the size of a warehouse full of food that she could easily buy after work, because that sort of back talk never ended well.

“I thought you’d be out tonight,” Mama said later, sipping from a beer as she pushed the congealing spaghetti around her plate on the little stand, eyes on Barnaby Jones on TV. “Betty was saying that Joanne was going to Ladies Night over at Sal’s. They got a new bartender that looks like that boy from… Lord, what was it, ‘Shazam’?”

“Yeah, maybe in the dark with your eyes closed!” Aurora snorted.

“Betty’s always had her work cut out for her with that one. Back in my day, her folk’s would’ve been hurrying to get her tied up with some nice boy before they ended up having to send her away to family in the country for a few months, if you get my drift.”

“Mama! She’s not that bad. You can’t tell me y’all didn’t go crazy about boys when you were kids. Aunt Margie told me about how you never sat out any dances when you were our age.”

“Yeah well, Marg should mind her own business and pay more attention to that son of hers. You know, he promised Grandma days ago that he’d take a look at her fan and she’s still waiting.”

“I know,” Aurora sighed. Boy, did she know.

Admitting defeat, Aurora finally climbed into bed just before midnight, checking the screen of her open window before settling down with a huff. Maybe she should have gone out with Joanne. As much as she knew that Thursday nights at Sal’s were a horror show, it didn’t stop that nagging feeling in her stomach that maybe she had let something slip away, and ignored possibilities. At the very least, she would have laughed until her sides hurt as she and Joanne danced to the jukebox.

Tomorrow night, she told herself as she drifted off, her blurring eyes fixed on the shard of moonlight that sliced into her dresser.

The moon had set by the time she startled awake a few hours later. Her mother was hunched over her, a silhouette of curlers and rounded shoulders, fingers tight against her shoulders.

“Rora, wake up!”

“What’shappeningisitbad,” she mumbled as the pieces of her conscious mind tried to converge and accidentally passed one another, blurring even further. She jolted as her mother shook her even harder.

“Wake up! There’s someone on the phone asking for you.”

“What? Why?” Aurora squinted at her mother who seemed flustered, fiddling with her headscarf and the neck of her nightgown over and over.

Trying to blink sleep from her eyes, Aurora let her feet drop heavily to the floor and shoved herself up into a seated position. With her eyes half closed, she shuffled out into the kitchen and picked up the receiver laying against the counter.

“Hmmmello?”

“Hi, is this… Aurora?” Whoever was on the phone said it like a substitute teacher trying to take attendance, not sure whether they were being played.

“Uh, hmm, yeah. Who’s this?”

“I’m gonna ask you to hold one for a minute.” There was fumbling, which she might have found intriguing if she hadn’t been sprawled with her cheek against the counter, eyes squeezed shut against the brutal overhead light.

More fumbling.

“You are one difficult chick to track down, Tiger, you know that?! Goddamn.”

“Elvis?” she said, even as her brain was processing the voice. At the same time, her mother prodded her sharply in the back, whether to get some sort of explanation or to make her stand up straight while having a conversation with the King, who knew, and Aurora was not about to pause the proceedings to find out.

“Yeah, Elvis,” he returned, miraculously making a drawl drip with sarcasm. “You were taking ‘seek and ye shall find’ a little too far, weren’t ya, sweetheart? Almost called out the US Marshals trying to track you down.”

It sounded like a fifty-fifty split on whether he found the mix-up amusing or annoying and she couldn’t help cringing into her hand yet again, but he was calling. He was calling!

“Not sure, early… or late, one of the two. Goddamn, I can’t believe I finally got you. I bet you didn’t think I’d be able to do it, right? I tell you, ain’t nobody won money betting against me, honey, really.”

“Hello?! Sonovabitch, d’I lose her again?” She giggled at his mumbling and quickly interjected:

“Hello! No, I’m just trying to wake up. What time is it?”

Aurora opened her mouth to explain that she hadn’t given him the wrong number on purpose, that she wasn’t the sort of girl that set a scavenger hunt for anyone wanting to call her, but he was talking fast and leaving no place to jump in.

“Anyhow, the reason I was really callin’ was to make sure you’re takin’ care of Cupcake. You looking after him, feeding him, petting him and all that?”

“You mean Muffin?” She glanced up over the counter at the large tiger ornament sitting in pride of place on top of the TV. “Course I am.”

“Hot damn, Muffin, that was it! Well, are you sure? I feel like maybe I should barge into your house in the middle of the night and find out for myself, you know?”

Aurora couldn’t force a laugh, couldn’t even inhale as her dismayed eyes surveyed the sagging couch and faded wallpaper. If Elvis Presley set eyes on her home he would know everything there was to know about her within ten seconds and lose interest.

“You don’t even know where I live,” she prodded with a shaky wheeze. “And even if you think you do, you’re wrong. I could bring him to you? You want to check on him so bad, I’ll send him on over to you.”

There was a long pause, Aurora’s turn to wonder whether she had lost him, and when he spoke again there was an odd intonation to his voice, a knowingness that made her feel flayed open for all to see.

“Yeah, you should come here, bring ole Cupmuffincake so I can check you’re treating him right. I’d send someone over to pick you up.” She heard murmuring and the edge of Elvis’ voice cutting through the muffled sound like he was having a conversation with his hand over the receiver, and it hit her what was happening.

“Hello? Elvis! Hello?!”

“Honey, I’m just-”

“I can’t come now. I’ve got work in the morning- soon!”

There was another long pause. Each time, she balanced on her toes, wondering if this was the time, this was the final straw and he would hang up, give up, and drop her.

“I- I understand, your- your job’s important.” He sounded like a bad actor at a table read. She suspected that he had long forgotten quite how important a job was if you wanted a roof to stop the rain falling on your head and food in the ice box to stop you starving to death. “What time d’you get off work, honey?”

“I can finish at five,” she replied, knowing she could reschedule her last appointment. “And I can drive over. You don’t need to send anyone. I know where you live after all.” She forced a little laugh, but his voice was subdued when he replied:

“Yeah, I guess you do. After five then? You’ll come straight over?”

“Sure, I’ll come straight there.” She was reassuring him, like she was doing him a favor by showing up at his mansion all sweaty and messed up after a day of work. She wasn’t sure how this situation had come about, but had no doubt that it was wrong. A man who has a wall with gates around his property and security guards, cameras and barbed wire on fences did not have to make anyone promise to come to his house.

Elvis then told her that he had been planning on going for a ride on his motorcycle. He asked if she had ever ridden one before and when she admitted that she had, because she sensed that he had wanted her to say no, he assured her that his was better than whatever souped up

bicycle she had tried before. He made her promise that she would come dressed for a motorcycle ride.

“You know, one time this one little girl showed up here in a cute little dress. Hair done up all pretty and everything, see, and-” He laughed to himself. “You should’ve seen her after we’d gone out on the hogs. She was all mad and I said to her, I said, I ain’t the kind of guy that just sits around, you know, having a damn tea party on a date. I gotta, I gotta be doing something, going somewhere, otherwise I’m gonna get bored.” He sighed loudly into the phone and Aurora half imagined she felt it against her cheek. She wondered if he was telling her this because he didn’t want her to think that she was visiting to sit on his bed and read books again, or to let her know that their night together had been a rare occurrence and she shouldn’t expect more of the same.

“Well, I promise not to wear a cute dress or make any effort with my hair.”

“You are trouble,” he laughed. “I knew it the moment I saw you, man. Trouble with a capital T! I’ll tell ‘em not to let you in, you see if I won’t.”

When they finally hung up, Aurora again had an aching elbow, stiff elbow and partially numb hand. She turned slightly and faced her mother, who had been walking in and out the kitchen throughout the whole conversation. She eyed her pointedly over a cup of coffee.

“I know he’s Elvis, but I think that means he owns a watch or two,” she remarked. “And some of us need to be getting up at a decent hour to get to work.”

“I know, Mama, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect it.”

“Just…” Her mother sighed, lowering the coffee cup from her mouth. “Just be careful, honey. Remember Memphis is chock full of girls that Elvis used to call at 3AM.”

“I know, Mama.”

Afterwards, Aurora would have no recollection of her day at work, and was surprised that she received no complaints about uneven bangs or stripey dye jobs. Her mind was definitely not on her tasks. She kept planning and replanning and unplanning what she was going to wear. What outfit would look like she had made some effort, but also wouldn’t have her showing her underwear to passing motorists on a motorcycle? She needed to look like she belonged with Elvis, but couldn't afford the time and money that would require.

Although, maybe that was the point? Maybe he was making a show of slumming it, maybe he wanted her to look ordinary? She couldn’t think why that would be, other than some sort of publicity strategy? She imagined herself, wide-eyed, her waves flattened after the heat of the salon, eyeliner caking in the creases of her eyes, staring out from the front page of the National Enquirer as it screamed: “Elvis drops his standards!”

When work finally ended, she sped home, ignoring the ringing phone and performing a hop, skip and jump into the shower that would have qualified her for the upcoming summer olympics. She brushed her teeth and blow dried her hair at the same time, shaving her legs and layering on the eyeliner like a motivated octopus.

She was pulling up at the gates of Graceland by 6.30, both annoyed and relieved that no one would ever know the heroic efforts she had made just to be there. She gave her name to the guard at the gate house, maintaining eye contact like a crazy person as if this would convince him that she wasn’t trying to sneak in without an invite. You know, like she technically had done a couple of weeks before.

When the gates started to swing open, she hesitated a little too long, not quite believing that it was for her, and also a little frightened that it was. The guard came back out and directed her up the right hand side of the drive as if she was unsure of where to go.

After Aurora pulled up in front of the famous portico in her grubby, dented Pontiac, she waited. She had no idea what she was supposed to do next. Ring on the doorbell like a nervous prom date? Ding dong, Avon calling? Hi, can my friend Elvis come out to play?

When she had come before, they had parked around the back of the house, but that seemed too familiar. She smiled as she thought of fans standing at the gates and glimpsing her rusty old lemon through the trees parked in front of a millionaire’s mansion. It just summed up this whole silly situation.

Finally, she climbed out of her car, grabbing her jacket and purse as she stared up at the looming fieldstone walls with their barred windows. The windows gave off a strange vibe, a sense of seeing and being seen, and she glanced away, the loser in the staring competition.

Aurora had barely rung the bell when the front door swung open and a short, older guy, who may or may not have been wearing eyeliner, stood beaming at her like they were best friends.

“Well now, you must be Aurora. Everyone said you were a pretty little thing. C’mon in, darlin’, don’t be shy. I’m Charlie.”

Aurora thought of herself as a pretty good judge of character, a skill hard won through bad experiences. And this Charlie made her think of the uncles you knew to avoid at family gatherings, especially once they had a few drinks in them. Something about the amount of teeth in his smile compared to the lack of warmth in his eyes. She trusted her gut and took a few steps away from the arm he had wrapped around her back.

“Well, Elvis is right upstairs. I think you know your way around up there, right, darlin’?” She forced a smile a second too late and they were stuck in a toothy standoff as Aurora wheeled round in a wide arc and headed for the stairs, her cheeks burning at Charlie’s insinuation. She wondered what Elvis had said to him.

As she climbed the stairs, Aurora’s mind was strobing with thoughts. The first, obviously, was marveling at how thick and soft the carpet was. It would be very difficult to have an argument and stomp down the stairs here. The second was that she was walking up to Elvis Presley’s bedroom, invited, and that would never stop being surreal. She caught sight of herself in the mirrored panels on the wall and checked her teeth for lipstick and wiped beneath her eyes.

Reaching the landing, she heard the resonating sound of an organ being played and she faltered, but reminded herself yet again that she had been invited.

When she reached the doorway of what she vaguely remembered being an office she had passed through last time, she caught sight of Elvis, just his back and side profile as he sat at the organ. Another man, slight and shorter, was standing by it as an audience of one.

It seemed rude to interrupt the intimate concert, so she waited in the doorway, listening as Elvis sang a hymn, putting in as much effort as she imagined he did when performing to thousands. It made the hair on her arms prickle the way his rich voice enveloped her and an odd stillness fell upon her, in spite of her nerves and the awkwardness of the situation. Somehow he managed to distract her into forgetting she was anxious without even being aware she was watching him.

With a grand flourish of his hands on the organ, Elvis brought the song to a close with a tremulous plink of the last key on the keyboard and then laughed quietly to himself and his one man audience, mumbling something only his friend could hear.

‘Go in!’ Aurora silently instructed her feet. ‘Just walk forward!’ They picked the worst time to launch a mutiny.

Sliding his fingers across the keys again, Elvis sang, “She thinks I don’t know she’s there” to the tune of the George Jones’ song ‘She Thinks I Still Care’. She could feel her cheeks heating up as he looked over his shoulder straight at her, a playful grin lifting and lighting up his face so that she was smiling before she could think.

“Look, there she is, Billy, the damn fugitive. Tell her- Tell Tiger what you said to me, man-”

As Billy went to open his mouth, Elvis gripped his shoulder while rising from the organ bench and spoke over him like a little kid who couldn’t wait to share the secret.

“See, man, I told you she was real! Y’all think I’m crazy- and I am- but not this time. Come in here, honey, come let us all have a real look at you.”

“I had him and some of my other guys searching high and low for this girl called Aurora, and after a while, ole Marble Eyes here says to me- Tell her what you said-” Billy managed to get one word out before they finished in unison:

“Elvis, I ain’t so sure this girl really exists!” The two men laughed, and Aurora was glad that the annoyance that had been dripping from his words on the phone seemed to have evaporated. Elvis slapped Billy in the chest with the back of his hand and gestured at her.

Apparently Aurora’s feet paid more attention to Elvis than to her, because they walked her right into the room like the traitorous traitors they were.

“See?” Elvis said to Billy in a low voice, seemingly settling an argument that extended beyond whether or not she really existed. Billy shrugged, a little grin on his face, but Aurora didn’t miss the way his eyes, though not as jarringly dissonant as Charlie’s, followed Elvis almost anxiously as he crossed the room to meet her.

Even though Aurora was wearing a thin jacket, she still thought she could feel the heat of Elvis’ touch as he squeezed her shoulders and leant in to lightly kiss her cheek. In fact, the temperature of the air around her seemed to shoot up as she breathed in his spicy citrus cologne and squinted slightly to stop him blurring around the edges.

“Yeah, you’re real alright,” he murmured, his hand sliding down her arm and his fingers tangling with her own as he stepped back and brazenly looked her up and down. It was a struggle not to recoil, attempt to cover herself or blush, but she sensed that this was what he was testing, pushing to see if she would crumble or curl up under the weight of scrutiny.

“Honey, I know you came after work and all, but don’t you think you could’ve dressed up a little?” His tone was teasing and he was smiling, but the question was clearly genuine. She looked down at her red cotton flares and then back at his baby blue leisure suit with the racquetball court logo on the chest. That was the moment the cushiony awe and anxiety wore through; she could almost hear the -pop- of the bubble and then it was just her.

“Watch your damn mouth,” he laughed. “Remember who pays all the bills around this goddamn place. Keep on and I’ll take that fucking trailer and give it to the dogs, man. Edmund’ll be pissing up the walls by next week!”

“You were the one who told me not to wear a dress!” she returned spiritedly, looking him square in the face for the first time. “You said we were going out for a ride and not to get too dressed up.” He paused, his expression uncharacteristically blank, and she almost started questioning herself, until Billy, who she had forgotten was still standing there by the organ, put in:

“Oh, hell, you don’t listen to what he says. There’s a reason we all call him Crazy, you know.” He had a soft, slightly country, soothing kind of voice and almost like magic, Elvis’ cloudy expression burst into radiant sunshine again as he feinted an attack on Billy.

Aurora stood stock still as Billy darted around her, jerking out of the way of a reckless and, judging by the way that Elvis grunted as he did it, forceful karate chop that cut through the air so close to the side of her head that her hair ruffled.

“Boys, no roughhousing in the house!” she said with forced playfulness.

They were all playing along, Aurora realized. Even she was acting out a script that she had not glimpsed, but had immediately started reading her lines and hitting her marks just as readily as Billy with his teasing words that masked worried eyes, and Charlie with the wide easy smile that tried to outshine something slightly twisted and angry beneath the surface. And Elvis? Either he was one of the greatest actors of all time, or this was him. It unnerved her the way that she couldn’t read him like she read most people, that he had no tell she could easily discern.

Billy edged backwards towards the door and Elvis slowly advanced on him. Aurora decided to choose self-preservation and step out of the way, but Elvis moved too and scooped her up against him, suddenly losing all interest in Billy. Aurora found herself with her face pressed against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist to stop herself from flailing backwards and one of his palms hard between her shoulder blades, while the fingers of his other hand gripped her hip.

“Oh, what do we have here,” he murmured in a soft little boy’s voice that should not have caused her to shiver and break out in goosebumps as his mouth brushed the shell of her ear. “Got myself a tiger by the tail.” His hands slid slowly down over the curve of her ass, thumbs kneading into the muscle and she took a sharp inhale, but then he started patting around frantically, practically spanking her. “Uh oh, no tail.”

Aurora threw back her head, almost choking on a laugh as his sideburns tickled against the line of her throat and he buried his face into the crook of her neck. When he pulled back, pink-faced with his hair all rumpled, she found herself reaching up to smooth it without hesitation, only pausing when her fingers were tangled in his inky black locks. They stared at each other in a freeze frame, her, wide-eyed and panicked at her over familiarity; him with his eyes sparkling and his cheeks brimming as his lips twisted into a little smirk. She dropped her hand awkwardly, though her other arm was still gripping his waist as she remained draped across his chest and stomach. To stop herself from falling, she reminded herself.

“I brought a dress,” she blurted. “For after we went for a ride.” His smile spread wider and she could almost feel it cracking her wide open even as all her defenses battened down the hatches.

“Well, we ain’t going for a ride right now, honey,” he informed her. After taking a momentary study of her face with his head tilted pensively, he added, “I’m gonna give you the tour.” He nodded to someone behind her and she twisted slightly to see Billy still leaning in the doorway. Elvis, it seemed, needed an audience to his flirting just as much as he needed one for his singing.

It would have seemed impossible to her a couple of weeks earlier, the thought of her being led by the hand around Elvis’ mansion by Elvis himself, listening and laughing as he swung between genuine pride and mocking himself.

“And this here is the whore house,” he announced as they stood in the archway looking over the living room. She took in the overabundance of red, gold and white, feathers, velvet and shag, glad that he had said that first. She was beginning to notice that about him, his ability to predict reactions and pre-empt them with a joke or a sly comment, like he was somehow with you as you viewed him, making it impossible to feel enough distance to gain proper perspective, or really any distance at all.

“Where are they?” she asked, since feeling predictable didn’t quite sit right with her. “All the ‘ladies’?” She made a show of looking around.

“Oh, honey, we don’t talk about that,” he replied, moving ahead and tugging her through the living room towards another doorway curtained in chintzy red and being guarded by glass peacocks. “All of this was white before that fateful night.”

The unexpected laugh exploded out of her and she yanked her hand away from the loose grip of his fingers to slap both of her hands across her mouth. Smirking again, that naughty little smile made her stomach try and wrench itself into ringlets, he glanced over at Billy, who was laughing. “Little Billy here still has nightmares.”

“You’re…” She scrambled for the words, silly, naughty, crude, funny, amazing, unpredictable, so much better than I would have thought. “Crazy. You’re just crazy.”

Through the music room, they passed through a hallway into what Elvis called the ‘Trophy Room’. Aurora was overwhelmed by all the items to look at. There were toys, clothing, paintings, ornaments, photos, plaques, citations, actual trophies and then the records, endless shiny metal discs with little plaques recording unimaginable achievements. Aurora slowly traversed the long room, peering into cases, lips moving as she read so many declarations of admiration and adoration.

Glancing up from a trophy that recognised him as ‘The World’s Greatest Entertainer of All Time’ from ‘The Loving You Fan Club of Murcia and Alicante’, she looked over to where he was talking quietly to Billy by the door. He glanced over too and winked as they locked eyes, so she had to turn and stare very intently at a creepy doll thankfully encased in a glass cabinet until she could feel the blush cooling from her cheeks.

“It’s like a whole museum of you,” she marveled, finally wandering back in their direction.

Elvis seemed to misunderstand, mumbling awkwardly about needing to have somewhere to store everything because someone took the time to give it to him, so she risked interrupting him.

“I mean, having this solid proof of everything you’ve done and how much you’re loved. It’s amazing, it must make you smile just walking in here. It’s unreal!”

The clouds that threatened to beset his mood drifted back and he shrugged diffidently, this little smile diametrically opposed to his naughty smirk. He looked positively bashful.

“It is unreal, man,” he murmured. “I keep waiting to wake up and find out this Elvis fella wants his life back.” He shrugged again and absently grabbed her chin with his fingers. “Well, we gotta make the most of it before he does.” He moved her head up and down, a strange little mime reflecting him back.

Aurora tried to ooh and aah in the right places as she was led through Elvis’ plush, sleek racquetball court. Having never even heard of the game before, Aurora mentioned that she had never played and he squinted at her cryptically and assured her that she would, sounding like a fortune teller who could foresee oddly specific destinies.

“I’m pretty good at pinball though,” she offered, eyeing up the machine with all its shiny chrome and flashing lights. No greasy fingerprints and rust to be seen, unlike the one at the bowling alley that she used to feed her lunch money when she was hiding out from spelling tests or book reports.

“Maybe later, Tiger,” Elvis murmured, ushering her past Billy and back out into the darkening night.

Aurora looked around as the inky shadows started to claim the white fences and golden fieldstone and let out an awed breath. Imagine having all of this at your fingertips, so much to look at, to entertain you, to enjoy just right there for the taking. It was just so titillating that she couldn’t even bring herself to feel any envy. It seemed an impossibly perfect existence, something too good to even yearn for.

“Over there’s the barn and the horses and so on,” Elvis said, waving his hand flippantly. “I’ll show you some time.” That, at least, she was glad to postpone since horses had frightened her since she was a kid. Her head was still on a swivel as they walked back along the little walkway to the house, her eyes desperately trying to drink everything in.

Ending up in the kitchen made Aurora smile, thinking back to her last visit. During the past couple of weeks she had been regretting how fast it had all happened and how little she had taken in. The next morning, she could barely answer the breathless, demanding questions of her customers as they quizzed her on what colors the carpets were and how many cars were in the carport. This time, she was determined that she was going to take note of everything, just in case it was her last opportunity.

“You got eyes as big as this ‘un here,” Elvis remarked, jerking a thumb at Billy, who shrugged and smiled good naturedly. “You've seen all this before.”

“No, you were distracting me too much before,” she returned. “I didn’t take it in.”

“Me distracting you?! That’s rich when you- you showed up in your little shorts with your legs and everything.”

“Oh, the shorts did it for you?” she smirked.

To her surprise, Elvis gave her an almost stern shake of his head, and she hesitated, finding herself on unstable ground. Brusquely, he informed Billy he would call him later, told the cook to send up some drinks, and then headed towards the stairs Aurora now knew led up to his bedroom. It was only when he turned and flashed her an impatient look that she realized he expected her to follow him.

As she trailed after his broad back, trying not to look at the way the chains hanging from the belt peeking from beneath the hem of his jacket were swaying and bouncing as he slowly climbed the staircase, she replayed their exchange in the kitchen, trying to understand what had made him switch so suddenly. He had started it with his comment about her shorts, she had only been repeating what he said.

They stepped back into the office and then through into the bedroom, where Elvis whirled round and kissed her. It happened so fast that she didn’t have time to prepare, nor get flustered. Instead, her body did what came naturally and melted like ice in a furnace. It was as if he enveloped her, the warmth of him, the smell of him, the feel of him all around her and, as his tongue lapped tentatively against her pliant lips, within her. Her forearms were just beginning to slide up his chest, hands scrambling to touch and grip, when he stepped back. It took her a while to register that he was talking, her eyes fixated on the sheen of his puffy, wet lips as he spoke.

“Been waiting to do that again for, what is it now, a month, two months?”

“Two weeks,” she corrected cautiously.

“Two weeks, shit. Every time I close my damn eyes, I keep seeing those itty bitty shorts and thinking-” He cut off as his eyes fell upon her mouth and his lips curled slightly. Leaning forward to nibble on her lower lip, he let out a small grunt at the back of his throat as he pushed in to deepen it. Aurora didn’t react. A long second passed.

“What’s the matter, honey?” He was so close that she could count individual eyelashes and examine the crease between his brows as he frowned. Her heart gave a weird flutter at the concern she saw in his face. “Are you okay? Did I-”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just… Did I do something? Before in the kitchen?”

He shook his head, trying to jostle away her confusion along with his own awkwardness as he replied:

“I don’t like to do that kind of thing in front of the staff, especially the ladies in the kitchen. It ain’t respectful.”

Aurora swallowed a giggle upon seeing the sincerity in his face, but somehow, again, he read her mind and gave her side a poke with a long finger.

“You think that’s kinda old fashioned and silly, huh,” he remarked, teeth clenched in a playful show of irritation. She jerked at the painful poke, but let out the laughter she had been trying to suppress.

“Not silly,” she soothed. “It’s cute.”

“I ain’t cute, goddamn it!” he snapped. “Get on the damn bed, woman! I’ll show you how cute I am!”

Aurora raised her eyebrows, but before she could scoop together the words, he clutched her waist and kissed her hard to the point where her lips were almost painfully jammed against her teeth. He could only seem to bear to do this for so long however before he adjusted, and his soft pillowy lips kneaded hers. His breath fell light upon her cheek as his hands reached up to cradle the sides of her face.

“Get up on the bed, baby,” he murmured gently this time. “Please.”

“Since you asked nicely.”

She used her feet to pry off her shoes and clambered up onto the center of the expansive bed, where she dropped onto her back with her arms and legs spread like a starfish. She noticed the two television screens mounted in the ceiling and rolled instinctively, hit by sudden claustrophobic dread that they were pushing down on her.

The roll was just in time to meet Elvis joining her on the bed, and he caught hold of her by the shoulder and hip and slid her closer to him with practiced ease.

How many girls had lay in this bed, she wondered, even as she succumbed to his embrace and flexed her fingers up into the fine, silky hair at the back of his head. Did he ever wake up and not remember who his companion was until he pulled back the blankets? Did his memory ever shuffle through them all like flicking the pages of a photo album?

She was thinking too much, she was definitely thinking too much. Here she was, laying pressed up against Elvis Presley, his tongue caressing hers while his fingertips stroked a path down her neck and into the opening of her shirt and she was imagining other more beautiful women spread out in her place.

WIth effort, she emptied her mind and smeared her lips across his round cheek and down to his jaw, scrunching up her nose at the tickling from his sideburn. She tasted the salt from his skin as her mouth journeyed down his warm neck, pressing kisses against the rough, burgeoning stubble and flickering pulse beneath.

He growled a little at the back of his throat and submitted. No, submitted was not the right word, because he was practically pushing his neck against her mouth, hungry for more, reveling in the caressing care of her lips and the teasing of her teeth nibbling beneath.

Aurora could feel sweat beginning to bead at the small of her back and across her chest pressed beneath the weighty, hot pressure of his torso still covered in layers of clothing.

Blind and dumb with eagerness, she pulled back slightly and reached for the zipper of his jacket, already halfway down, trying to gain further access and salivating at the thought of his chest that she had glimpsed through the deep open vee of his shirt, adorned with damp, curls of hair. He grabbed her bicep wordlessly and pushed it back, pressing it up onto the pillows at the side of her head. The weight of him followed and she felt her legs forced apart by the pressure of a solid thigh slotting between them and pushing against the tingling, eager nexus where she was nudging her hips to meet him.

Swollen and tingling, her lips nonetheless widened into a smile as she felt him pressing his neck and his cheek against her mouth, demanding her kisses, caresses and attention even as his hands grazed over her breasts, the edge of his thumb teasing over her cotton covered nipple.

Aurora clenched her jaw, biting down on a whining sigh as he thrust his hip with celebrated skill and nudged all the right places, sending a spidery web of tingling electricity deep down and along the inside of her thighs. Her toes curled appreciatively as she hooked her leg over the back of his, squeezing them both together to a duet of moaning.

“That’s it, let me hear you, baby,” he whispered in a direct line from her ear down to her aching, tingly core. She tried to wrap her arms around his shoulders, to pull him closer to cover the shivery coolness of her exposed decolletage, but he held fast to her arm, pinning the other down beneath his side.

Aurora’s brain was too foggy with pleasure and yearning to be embarrassed or self-conscious about the noises she was making, or was trying to make, since he kept forcing her lips to perform supplication and worship different parts of him. Her whines were muffled by the soft, fullness of his bottom lip as he tasted and teased her, then the salty, slightly metallic tang of the broad pad of his thumb as he pushed it against the flat of her tongue, and his body, heavy and hot, thrusting against every willing, needy inch of her.

Like an opera singer sliding up the scale, the way her body answered his nudging and rubbing began to heighten. A thousand icy vibrations resonated through her, building and building until all her nerves sang in the same, piercing crescendo, threatening to shatter her as she tensed, squeezed, curled into herself and then broke apart.

With a weary but satisfied sigh, he sank back onto his side, leaving her shivering and exposed despite the fact that she was still fully clothed. Listening to her own slightly labored breaths, she was finally able to lift up her arm from the pillow and she tugged at her rumpled, damp clothes, trying to make herself more comfortable and presentable.

Rolling onto her side, she let herself bathe in the warm, affectionate glow of his eyes as he smiled at her, reaching up to smooth her hair. She leant down and kissed him chastely on the lips, still delighted at the way he pushed back, eagerly taking what she was giving.

“Can I? Could I… Do you need me to-” Unable to bring herself to say it, she let her hand slide down his chest, over the curve of his stomach, past the hem of his jacket, where he hastily caught it and tugged it back up.

“Whoa, let’s hold fire on that, Tiger,” he said, lifting her fingers to his lips. “I wanna take my time with you.” She tried to hide her uncertainty as she smiled and nodded in response. “I- I tell you what we’ll do. How about you go put on that dress you wanna show me and we’ll get some food sent up. You want to watch a movie? You know who Peter Sellers is, honey?”

Floating on a cloud while still immersed in mists of uncertainty, Aurora took her bag into Elvis’ adjoining bathroom and marveled at the gold fixtures and the shine of everything. It took a lot of money to make everything look so effortlessly shiny.

When she caught sight of her hair reflected in the long mirror framed in lights, she gasped and brushed it vigorously. She considered rooting around in the cabinets for a hair dryer, but got distracted by all the products on the counter. It was as if a drug store had exploded; every minor ailment from indigestion to dry eyes to, oddly, nappy rash could have been cured with items on the counter.

There were quite a few amber pill bottles too, she noticed, though she didn’t recognise any of the long names nor know how to pronounce them. She could read, however, that some of the patient names were not Elvis. It struck her as odd that so many different people would keep their medicine in Elvis’ bathroom, but her brain stretched to understand it by wondering if maybe all these people worked at the mansion and needed it be kept somewhere safe while they were working.

When she finally emerged, now clad in a floaty, pale pink peasant dress with a bardot neckline that showed off her tanned shoulders and back, Billy was back and accompanied by a woman with dark hair parted in winged curtains, apparently his wife Jo.

“Yeah, that’s more like it,” Elvis nodded as Aurora stood awkwardly in front of the bed. “Turn around, honey, let us get a good look at you.”

“It’s the same at the back as it is in front,” she replied tightly.

Goosebumps were breaking out across her shoulders, both because of the icy air conditioning and the discomfort of being stared at by so many people. For some reason, having a woman sitting there looking at her, sizing her up, made her enthusiasm circle the drain.

“No, really, give us a twirl, baby,” Elvis instructed with a tone that did not encourage refusal.

Billy grinned and looked to his wife like he was trying to lessen some of the pressure, but Jo continued to watch her. Women were not fooled by hair and make-up tricks and they saw through the illusion of a good dress bought on sale. Jo likely knew exactly how much of an impostor Aurora was, and her knowing made it impossible to continue the charade. Aurora turned in place with all the grace and enthusiasm of a zombie, helplessly watching Elvis’ eyes narrow with annoyance.

He didn’t even look her way as she perched on the other side of the bed to the rest of them, instead talking to Billy about the pizza they had apparently ordered while she was in the bathroom. Elvis was complaining that he was hungry and it had better not take too long or he was going to take away someone’s new car. BIlly suggested they start the movie to help take their minds off being hungry while they waited.

It was while Aurora was watching Billy set up the betamax that she had a moment of clarity that it did not matter whether she was good enough to be there, the fact was that she had evidently tricked someone into thinking she was and that might not happen again, so she had to make the most of it. Besides, she thought back to the taste of him in her mouth, his touch on her skin and realized that acting like a sulky teenager was not going to get that back. She knew that she wanted, no, needed to get that back.

Leaning on the little information she had picked up about what Elvis liked, Aurora shuffled across the bed to where he was half-reclined against his pillows and tried to kiss him in apology. She timed it badly because he was taking a swig of water when she hurriedly smushed her lips into his cheek and he instinctively turned towards her, the water pouring onto him instead.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” She clasped her hands over her mouth, mentally preparing herself to be frogmarched to her car and escorted to the gate.

There was a pause, the other two people in the room seemed to go very quiet and even the sound of the television was muted, but eventually Elvis forced a weak chuckle and made a comment about being given a warning next time she wanted to start a water fight. He placed his glass down with a decisive bang on the nightstand and went into his bathroom to get changed.

Aurora cringed and shrugged sheepishly at Billy and Jo, already mentally editing all of this out of the story she would tell everyone of her one and only date with Elvis Presley.

The arrival of the pizza coincided with Elvis’ reappearance, now clad in navy blue pajamas and a gray robe, both of which were monogrammed in white. There was a beat when she reflected on how he had just made her dress up for him while he had decidedly dressed down for her and she wondered if this was a signal on how the date was going.

Thankfully, his mood picked up considerably as he ate his food and spoke along with most of the dialogue of the movie. He and Billy joined together in unison on their favorite lines and sometimes even Jo joined in. She tried not to feel too left out, smiling appreciatively whenever Elvis slipped her a sideways glance, his eyebrow slightly raised, like he was trying to be sneaky.

The appreciation dimmed when Elvis ordered the movie be started over from the beginning again once it was done. Aurora scanned the room for signs of a clock and cursed her poor decision making for removing her watch. Instead, she had to exaggeratedly stretch and fake a yawn.

“Gee, it must be getting pretty late,” she remarked. “I guess I should be going soon.”

If it had been a movie there would have been a loud record scratch, but she didn’t need a sound effect to know that she had messed up yet again. After a minute or two of loud silence, Elvis asked if he could speak to her in the bathroom and he retreated to find more privacy than he could get in his own bedroom.

At his request, Aurora closed the door behind her and watched him glare at himself in the mirror, before smoothing his hand down the lapel of his robe and turning to face her.

“How was your food?” he asked, glancing away again, this time out the window.

“It was good.” It had been a little greasy, but the view more than made up for it.

“Good… good.” He inhaled deeply and also quickly. “Well, you’re right, it’s getting real late and the streets can be dangerous, especially for a sweet little girl like you. I- I don’t like the thought of you driving around, sweetheart, you never know who could be traveling those roads at night, all kinds of weirdos and sick motherfuckers. I think you should stay here.”

“And how’d you like the movie?”

“It was great, really funny.” Especially the first time round, what little of the dialogue she could hear. Again, she couldn’t fault the view and the company.

“Stay?” The word yes surged into her brain, whizzing around her body like a pinball before finally emerging through her mouth as something completely different. “I don’t know.”

It was the old song and dance, sounding like the good girl she was supposed to be while acting like the girl she really was. She had to argue that she didn’t have anything to wear to bed or toiletries. He countered this by promising to find her everything she needed. She considered that her mother might worry if she didn't show up after her date, and Elvis volleyed this back by saying that she was welcome to call Mama to let her know what was happening. He even offered to speak to her mother himself. She finished the back and forth by reminding Elvis that she was a good girl that didn’t do this sort of thing normally, but she would make a reluctant exception.

And with that they went back to watch the rest of the movie, Aurora now nestled up against his chest, listening to the forceful thump of his heart caged up beneath. His voice rumbled through his body and into her ear, a steady stream of movie quotes, innuendo and cheeky, foul-mouthed asides about the film.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye later, she was sitting upright in bed with the bed covers draped across her legs. Elvis had already pulled the blankets back twice, a boyish little grin on his face as he peeked at her long, tanned legs. The silky pajama jacket he had tossed to her after she had brushed her teeth using a brand new toothbrush from the seemingly endless stock in his bathroom cabinet barely covered anything, the sleeves hanging limping from her hands while the hem brushed her ass.

Steve had brought Elvis a package about twenty minutes before, an awkward reunion, and Aurora had watched Elvis carefully take the pills that were contained within. He smiled at her, and for the first time, she spotted the charade, recognising a script. He explained that he took lots of vitamins and health supplements to keep him fit and healthy for all the touring he had to do and that accounted for most of the pills, but he also took a little sleeping medication because he found it difficult to get to sleep. Aurora had nodded, but it was not an Oscar worthy performance.

The medicine kicked in with a surprisingly sudden punch not long later when he was reading aloud from one of his books and pausing to check she understood and to clarify words. Both his breathing and his voice abruptly deepened as well as slowing down. She frowned as she watched his usually animated and expressive face fall slack and blank

“Elvis?” He took a long time to register her voice, even longer to respond, his slow smile following on after. “Are you okay?”

“Just tired,” he managed. Adorably, he pursed his lips and she realized that he was waiting for her to kiss him. She dipped down and pushed her lips against his, and she missed the way he pushed forward to meet her. He was too groggy for that. Instead, he mumbled:

“... Been looking for you for so long…” She didn’t know if he meant in the past two weeks or more generally. It was sweet either way.

With her mama far away and Elvis’ soft, pouting face restful and beautiful right next to her, Aurora sank down and lay her head against his chest, pretending that maybe, just maybe, she might be different. She might be special.

As his thick lashes dropped down onto his lower lids and he released a big sigh of an exhale, Aurora thought of her mama’s words:

“... Memphis is chock full of girls that Elvis used to call at 3AM.”

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@ellie-24, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny, @missmaywemeetagain, @peskybedtime, @from-memphis-with-love @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782, @wildhorseinkansas, @atleastpleasetelephone

#elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #big daddy elvis #70s elvis #elvis imagine #elvis presley fanfic #elvis fanfiction #whositmcwhatsit

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weirdmageddon · 7 months

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wait people actually used to think about davejade this way??? ive always been under the impression that dave was the one with the hidden crush. showering jade in his music and his poetry and his art (even sending her physical art in the mail) and being really considerate of her feelings and all that? shit he rarely does with anyone else in early homestuck? he just primarily shows his love through practical actions that display considerateness and quiet love and care instead of putting his emotions on display for everyone. but he definitely strikes me as someone with a childhood crush. hes the one interacting with her with sweaty palms

if yall are thinking jade is the one initially silently crushing over dave who is this stone cold cool motherfucker doing his thing and feels nothing towards her i can see why it would be boring. but thats not the appeal of it lol. he is NOT too cool for her. she is in fact too cool for him (and also more outgoing and can fuck shit up. she is definitely the one carrying him in her strong ass arms).

if youre characterizing dave and jade like in that post you gotta assess your understanding of these characters my man. you fell for it. you fell for both of their superficial masks. dave is not all that cool hes a fucking dork inside actually visible since very early on and we see him dropping the bro strider-irony protégé act and grow into his natural, endearing, peaceful, self-aware self in act 6 after bro’s death and three years on a meteor. jade is a cheerleader for her friends but also hides a lot her negative feelings from others so she doesnt make them feel bad but she can blow up if her buttons are really pushed

#homestuck #hs #davejade

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fourth-dimensional-thinker · 6 months

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Some More BTTF Headcanons

- Marty only owns three pairs of shoes: sneakers, dress shoes, and flip-flops. He doesn't understand why he needs more than those and drags his feet every time Lorraine takes him out to buy new shoes

- On a related note, back-to-school shopping is one of Marty's least favorite times of the year

- Marty knows the instructors of the aerobics studio because he bought their old workout music cassettes at a yard sale

- Linda and Marty are both super picky eaters

- Dave, on the other hand, will eat anything and has eaten things of dubious-edibility on a dare

- Every McFly child needed to get braces

- Marty is Grandma Sylvia's favorite grandchild. Linda is Grandma Stella's favorite. Dave is Grandpa Sam's favorite. When asked, Grandpa Artie will never answer in fear of upsetting the other two

- Marty and Doc have teamed up to beat Pac-Man, studying and taking notes of the ghost patterns in each level. They have spent over twenty dollars working on this project. They have not succeeded yet

- Doc is Marty's go-to for help with his homework. Marty often needs some tutoring from him for math and science assignments. But other times, having Doc working quietly on a separate project in the same room helps Marty get into focus mode.

- Doc will invent all types of machines to make home chores easier to do, but he will always do dishes by hand. He finds it therapeutic. Einstein helps him by licking the plates clean

- When he was young, Doc used to be good at archery

- Doc knows many words and phrases from a lot of different languages, but it's not enough for full conversations and he can only be considered fluent in English

- He gets 90% of his appearance from his mother

- Doc is mostly a dog person. His mother is mostly a cat person. His father is a no-animals-in-the-house person

- George had an avid fear of his neighborhood's milkman when he was four

- His first job was at the local library

- He is very good at crossword puzzles

- While George is on good terms with his parents as an adult, Lorraine has a somewhat strained relationship with hers

- Lorraine played volleyball and tennis in high school

- She likes to embroider and make her own clothes

- Marlene is one minute older than Marty Jr. and loves to hold it over him at any opportunity

- Marlene is very popular at school. Junior isn't, and is mostly known as "Marlene's brother"

- Junior is part of the school's video club and likes to do behind-the-scenes work

- Needles has been blacklisted from being employed at any store in the mall (twin pines, lone pine— any version of it, he is on a "do not hire" list)

- Needles once ran over another student's foot in the high school parking lot. Whether it was on purpose or an accident has been widely debated. Marty is very sure it was on purpose

- Jennifer is on the school's cheerleading squad

- She is also in the yearbook club

- Clara enjoys preserving flowers and insects as a hobby she learned from her father

- She is fluent in French and can read Latin

- She likes gardening and growing her own plants

#back to the future #bttf #how long has it been since I've made a post like this?

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strawbeerossi · 1 year

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Daydreaming || 2/3 ||

Part one || Part three

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Aaron Hotchner

Description: A few months after the birthday party and numerous text messages, phone calls and dates, Aaron decides that it’s time for the next step; making reader his official girlfriend.

Content Warning: Fluffy fluff fluff, Dave and Aaron talk about reader in his office, the two boys are their biggest cheerleaders, there are some mentions of Haley, reader and Aaron go to dinner, mentioned wine consumption, all sealed off with a kiss.

Word Count: 2.3K

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

This took me forever, oops.

Aaron never thought he’d be able to enjoy another woman’s company after the death of Haley. It was intimidating, having to go out into the world and face new women and start over again. He would joke with Dave, saying it was silly how he could hunt down the most despicable of people but when it came to beautiful women, he locked up.

It had gotten to a point where in the past, he would have the other male accompany him out on the town, where they would enjoy some time and David would work as hard as possible to set him up with someone.

Normally, those attempts ended in nothing, any form of a relationship fizzling out of existence after they realized just how chaotic Aaron’s job could be. He couldn’t say he blamed anyone for changing their minds after they got a taste of the life he and his son lived.

Y/N really made his outlook change on the dating scene entirely. She understood him. They confided in one another as their trust and mutual attraction grew, the two exchanging numbers after the birthday party where they both met was a big factor in keeping them in contact. The two were moving at a slow pace, easing their way into a new relationship.

After what both of them had been through before, they were giving one another more than enough time to grow comfortable with the idea of dating again. They spent time together on coffee dates, dinner dates, even spending time together when their children had playdates.

The male truly believed that she was sent by Haley herself, the woman always wanting to make sure that Aaron and Jack were well taken care of. It helped that if she was still alive, those two would’ve loved one another, they were similar in small ways yet it was something that gave a sense of familiarity.

When Aaron wasn’t busy on a case, he found himself sitting in his home or office, a wide smile on his face as he was exchanging texts with the woman he’d grown so fond of.

He had found himself looking forward to her texts as well as her calls at the end of the evening.

Like today, it was a quiet day for the BAU, giving them the opportunity to finish filing some completed case files, finish paperwork, or talk amongst one another.

They went with the latter.

“Have you noticed how Hotch is always on his phone?” Derek asked, bringing the blue coffee cup to his lips as all the eyes in the bullpen were looking at the open blinds of the unit chief’s office, revealing a big smile on Aaron’s face as his eyes were glued to his phone screen.

Everyone had taken notice.

“He’s smiled at that phone more than I’m sure he’s smiled here.” Emily was the next to comment, making Spencer shrug his shoulders. “He smiles at it everyday, it’s probably more than he’s smiled in his entire life. I’d say that there’s something, rather someone, is bringing it out of him.”

“But who?” JJ asked, an eyebrow raising. Cue David Rossi making his appearance. “What are we looking at?” The older man asked, stopping by the desk with a clear view of Aaron’s office. “Do you know if Hotch has a girlfriend?” Emily inquired, not beating around the bush.

“Not that I know of. Now that you mention it, he has been.. Quite smiley lately.” It had Dave’s eyebrow raising in curiosity. Well, now he had to ask. It would’ve been a crime if he didn’t do that.

That was how Aaron found himself shut up in his office, phone resting against his desk as Dave was coming in strong. “What’s her name?” The question had the unit chief chuckling as he was leaning back against his chair. “Excuse me?” He asked, an eyebrow perched.

“What is her name, Aaron! You can’t hide her from us forever.” He repeated, a smile forming on the male’s face. Dave had been waiting for this moment for a while, so he had to know.

“Fine, fine. You remember Jack’s little best friend? Well, I met his mom a couple months ago,” The way he was spilling all the information had the other male sitting in the chair across from him, looking as invested as a teenage girl who was hearing the hottest gossip with her best friend. “Tell me about her,” Dave pressed on.

“She’s a sweet woman, Dave. Really compassionate and caring. It helps that she understands the intricacies of our job. If you want me to be fully honest.. I think she’s perfect. Not just for me but for Jack as well. Her son Finn is a little troublemaker with Jack.” He grinned, now ready to tell him everything he could.

The sight of the oldest members of the team continuing to talk in the office had the rest of the team looking between each other. “Maybe one of us just should’ve asked. By the looks of Rossi, they are gonna be in there all day.” Derek spoke up while chuckling.

As the day was starting to come to an end though, Aaron was grabbing his coat from his chair before he was getting prepared to leave the office. The team found it suspicious that the man who used to essentially live at the BAU was actually going home, presumably to bask in the company of the secret companion he was hiding away.

They wouldn’t be too far off. Thankfully, Y/N had already found a babysitter for Finn, which Jack was having a sleepover over at the Y/L/N house, judging by how the night went, Aaron would be staying too. However, he wouldn't get too far ahead of himself.

He went home first, getting changed from his work suit into a sleek, black ensemble. He got these reservations weeks ago, so he was putting forth every ounce of effort. Tonight would be the night where he made things official, god willing.

He knew that Y/N was the one for him and he knew that he loved her and Finn with his full heart. He knew Jack would be more than happy to welcome the woman and her son permanently into their lives.

That’s why Aaron stopped to get a bouquet of flowers, beautiful red roses that would no doubt bring a smile to the woman’s face. He had gotten to the familiar apartment, fist knocking against the door. His eyes scanned the hallway, feeling the chilly air of the evening hitting his exposed skin.

The moment the door opened though, he felt as if the wind was knocked out of him completely. There stood Y/N, her hair curled to perfection while wearing a velvety black dress, coming down to her mid thigh. It was enough to make the black haired man let his eyes do a slow sweep of her figure. “You look…” He began.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?”

Well, too many clothes.

“‘Course not. You look gorgeous. It’s a formal restaurant, so you’re perfectly within the dress code.” Aaron was quick to assure, a smile gracing his features as he was holding out the roses, to which the woman was letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in. One of relief.

As she took the roses in her hands, she was smiling fondly. “Thank you, Aaron. They are gorgeous.” Her words were soft. “Off we go, hmm?” She smiled, her arm linking with his as the two were on the way to the male’s car.

The drive to the restaurant was filled with light chit chat, discussing their days at work as well as other plans they had for the rest of the week all the while being accompanied by the sounds of the soft music from the radio playing in the background.

The restaurant was packed, as expected. The waitlist for reservations could extend to weeks or even months, that was why the male was so lucky he had placed these reservations a while ago. “Table for two under Hotchner,” Aaron began, the two standing in front of the hostess.

As the woman scrolled through the tablet with what seemed like a million names on it, she was offering a smile. “Aaron Hotchner. We have a table available, follow me please.” She instructed, the man’s hand resting on Y/N’s lower back as they were navigating through the fairly busy restaurant to get to their table.

It was right in front of one of the windows, giving a nice view of the brightly lit town center.

Nervous was an understatement.

It wasn’t like he was proposing but the thought of asking the beautiful woman in front of him to be his girlfriend was enough to have him sweating.

A man who profiles the worst people in the United States with no issue was nervous about asking a woman who was loving, caring, and sweet to be his girlfriend.

“So, Finn was telling me that he and Jack had to be separated in class. Did you get the email too?” She asked, breaking the silence between them while laughing softly. “They got split up in class?” He asked, thankful to be torn from his thoughts. “I haven’t even checked. They are chatterboxes, we both know that. I assume that's why.” He chuckled.

“Right on the nose. Apparently they’ve been too busy planning sleepovers and talking about Spider-Man to focus on the lesson.” Y/N laughed, her eyes scanning the menu in her hand. “Those two boys are something else. Although, Jack told me something very sweet today when I picked the two up from school.”

Knowing Jack, he already spilled the surprise of what tonight was. “What did he say?” He asked, placing his menu down to give her his full attention.

“He told me that he loved me. Melted my heart completely.”

Jack loves her. That’s more than enough confirmation.

“He did?” There was a wide smile gracing his features. “That’s awesome! You’ve wiggled your way into his heart with no problem. It’s honestly a huge relief.” He admitted, the two smiling in admiration at one another. This was what Aaron and Jack needed. A woman who would love them unconditionally. Finn was an added bonus, giving Jack a brother and Aaron a second son to give his love and devotion to.

Dinner was pleasant, the two laughing and delving into more deep conversations over a nice glass of red wine, a little bit of suggestive dialogue being slipped in as the two grew more comfortable talking to one another.

As they were arriving back at her apartment and Aaron walked Y/N to the front door, her hands were digging through her clutch to find her house keys. “Thank you so much for tonight, Aaron. Every date we go on is always.. Perfect.” A smile was on her face, now looking at the man who looked nervous in front of her.

It’s now or never, Hotchner.

“Hey, Y/N. Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“We’ve been going out on dates these past few months and the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more that I realize that you’ve been what Jack and I are missing,” He began, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. “He truly adores you and he loves Finn. I have to admit that I am falling more and more in love with you each time I see you.”

The admission had Y/N’s cheeks turning red, eyes glossing over with tears. Not bad tears, rather tears of joy, realizing that this wasn’t one sided. “I feel the same way about you, Aaron. You make me feel safe, like I belong. I never thought I would be able to find that again. Finn looks up to you so much, he even wants to be an FBI agent because of you.” The tears were falling freely, a smile on her face.

“He does?” Aaron let out a laugh, his own eyes starting to blink away a few tears. Tears of relief, relief that she was in the same boat as he was. “The thought of settling down has always scared me.” The male admitted. “My job is dangerous, time consuming, and it makes it hard to keep a steady relationship.”

Y/N was wiping her tears while offering a sweet smile, filled with reassurance.”I’ll always be here for you and Jack, no matter how busy your job gets.” She assured, her hand reaching to take his right one. “I love you and I love Jack.”

The weight of the world was lifted off of Aaron’s shoulders, much like it was lifted off Y/N’s. “And I’ll always be here for you and Finn.” He whispered in assurance, a fond smile gracing his features. “I love you and I love Finn.” He parroted.

This was the right moment to do it, so Y/N went for it. She was leaning up, her lips pressed against Aaron’s. The kiss was slow, yet there was an outpour of love and longing. As they parted ways, they were both reduced to soft laughter.

“It took us forever to do this.” The man joked, making the woman in front of him giggle. “Too damn long.” She corrected his words while pressing a kiss against the underside of his jaw, smiling against his skin.

“I need to formally ask this. Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?” Aaron’s voice was soft, the smile on his face radiating a warmth in her chest.

“You really have to ask, Hotchner? Of course I’ll be your girlfriend. Now come inside.. It’s a little cold and I don't think I can bear to send you on your way.” She sighed dramatically, unlocking the front door before being unable to help a soft squeal that left her lips when Aaron was playfully tossing her over his shoulder.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

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