#HE WOULD KNOW HER HANDWRITING ANYWHERE

[sweetnotgentle]

spoilers

[bloatedandalone04]

Romance is (not) Dead

➪the one where ethan is your boyfriend and you’re his alibi.

Warning: spoilers for scream vi, blood, swearing, making out, mentions of blood, mentions of death, character death, you're literally dating a killer, mentions of smut, possessive ethan, lowkey yandere ethan

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

Man, did you hate frat parties. Especially the one you were at now. 

These ones were the worst; the loud music, the smell of booze and smoke, the overly confident (and unbelievably unattractive) men, the horrid dancing. 

No fucking thanks.

Maybe you weren’t like most college students as you didn’t enjoy partying all that much and would rather stay in studying or watching whatever movie you felt like that night, but what can you do? 

This was definitely not your scene. 

And it was definitely not your boyfriend’s scene, either. 

You slouched against the uncomfortable cushion of the couch, your arm pressed to Mindy’s as the space was limited. Anika’s legs were draped over both yours and her girlfriend’s as they talked between themselves, effectively cutting you out of the conversation you didn’t want to take part in to begin with.

Looking around the room, you tried to locate Ethan and came to the conclusion that he was no longer in it. He and Chad must’ve wandered off in search of alcohol or something else to keep them entertained. 

You tip the cup in your hand, seeing that it was still half full, and reach over to put it on the table beside the couch. Standing up, you push Anika’s legs off yours and wince at the cracking sound that came from your knee. 

Had you really been sitting for that long?

“Hey,” Anika called out to you once she felt the push you gave her legs. “Where are you going?”

Mindy answered for you, “Probably to go find her boyfriend,”

You shrugged, paying no mind to the teasing wiggle of her brows. “What if I am?” You ask, matching her tone. “What, you’re the only one allowed to get any action tonight?”

Mindy raised her hands in defense. “Hey, I’m not judging,” she said. “And TMI, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your jacket from off the couch. “I had to sit next to you two making out every five minutes and I’m the one who is giving out too much information?”

Mindy looked at Anika then back at you. “Point taken,” she agreed and wrapped her arm around Anika’s shoulders. “Go on, then.”

Shaking your head, you bid them both a goodbye and take off in search of your boyfriend. You find him in another room with Chad, and already you could see that his roommate was trying to boost his confidence. 

You lean against the doorframe and watch as Chad pushes Ethan forward and towards a group of girls. A heat burns in your bones as Ethan shakes his head and turns away, only to be pushed back by Chad, this time with his arm around his shoulders as he did the talking for him.

It was as if Chad didn’t care that Ethan had a girlfriend, you, and wanted him to talk, and probably flirt, with as many girls as he could without you being in the room.

Fucking Chad.

The girls laughed at whatever Chad said to them before turning away from the guys, no longer engaging in a conversation with them. 

You smirk to yourself at that. Ethan really didn’t know how to flirt, and it was a miracle he somehow worked up the courage to ask you out a year and some ago. 

Ethan went to the same high school as you, and in your senior year he built up enough confidence to ask you out on a date. Well, sort of. He saw you rummaging around your locker and walked up to you, a folded piece of paper in his hand. When you noticed the cute boy from your English class leaning on the locker next to yours, you offered him a smile. He smiled back before handing you the note and you took it from him, a quirk in your brow as you read the messy handwriting. 

It was one of those cheesy I like you, will you go out on a date with me? questions, completed with two boxes, one for yes and one for no. 

You shook your head and reached up, grabbing a pen off the top shelf of your locker. Scribbling a quick check mark onto the box next to the yes, you hand the paper back to him and watch as a smile forms on his face and from then on it was history.

You were brought back to reality when your eyes met his and you can see the excitement swimming in the brown irises, his roommate quickly forgotten about as he walked away from him and towards you. 

He took off the cheap head piece of his costume and held it in one hand, using his other to make a mess of his flattened out hair. 

Once it was a perfect mess of curls, he stood before you in all his glory. “Hey, hotness,” you greet him, crossing your arms as you continue to lean against the door frame. It was as if the whole house had quieted down just for the sake of you starting a conversation with your lover, and you nodded at the group of girls that had obviously turned down his unwanted advances. “New girlfriends?”

Ethan shook his head, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Yeah, right,” he answered, towering over you and looking you up and down. He was with you when you dressed yourself in the angel costume that included a white dress, wings and a halo, as you got ready at his place and walked to the party together, but that didn’t change the fact that you looked unbelievably hot, even more than usual. You had long since ditched the accessories, now only being left in the dress, fishnet stockings and your black ankle boots. “You know, I think Chad does a better job at embarrassing me rather than boosting my confidence.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you tug him closer by the waistline of his pants. “Poor you,” you murmur, tilting your head up so you can look him in the eye. “Guess you’ll just have to settle for me.”

Ethan gave you a sly smirk, leaning down to reduce the gap between the two of you. “Who’s settling for who?”

You shake your head with a grin, draping your arms around his shoulders and leaning up on the tips of your toes. Pressing your lips to his, you kiss him slowly, unknowingly taking his breath away and he drops the headpiece to grip your waist, pushing you closer to the frame. 

Space became limited between the two of you and you had no room to arch your back like you normally did, so you settled on pressing flat up against the wood, your hands tugging Ethan closer by his biceps. 

If there was one thing you loved most about him, it was the confidence he gained whenever he was with you. He was his true self when he was alone, or in this case, ignored with you. No one paid any attention to you, continuing their conversations or just walking past one of the many couples making out. It was like the world became just the two of yours and everyone else didn’t matter anymore. 

With that being said, you would much rather be doing this somewhere more private, preferably in the comfort of his apartment as you knew Chad wouldn’t be there, but that still didn’t stop you from deepening the kiss by gripping the sides of Ethan’s face and tilting your head for better access. 

In the midst of it all, you don’t notice the quiet, hardly audible thud of your green jacket falling to the floor as Ethan twists the fabric of your white dress in his hands. His tongue runs along the length of your lower lip, and before you could part it from your top one, Ethan is tugged away slightly by Chad.

He muttered something about Tara and then he was gone, disappearing further into the house. 

Ethan sighed out of annoyance and lifted his hand to wipe away the smeared lipstick from your chin, his thumb lingering on your bottom lip before he took your hand in his, following the path that Chad cleared. You couldn’t wipe the giddy smile from your face as you place your free hand on your boyfriend’s forearm, allowing him to guide you in whatever direction he believed Chad took off in.

That wasn’t your first heated make out at a party, and it wouldn’t be your last, but it still left you breathless and with an ache that you only wanted Ethan to relieve. 

However, when you see the concerned look that both Anika and Mindy wore, you quickly forget about your own needs and instead ask, “What is going on?”

“We’re trying to stop Tara from going upstairs with this loser,” Mindy told you, her eyes never leaving the man beside your friend. Chad was on the first step while Tara and the guy were a few above him, and she was doing a really bad job at acting like she wanted to go anywhere with this guy.

“I’m fine, guys,” Tara insisted, though you could still hear the doubtfulness in her voice. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Tara, don’t go with him,” Chad said, daring to move onto the second step.

“Yeah, just come back to the party,” you add, lacing your fingers with Ethan’s. “It is downstairs, after all.”

What happened next happened in a blur. Tara was tugged back on the steps, causing her to fall over, Chad pulled the guy away from her, Sam showed up out of nowhere and tased him in his…well, let’s just say that the area she tased him in had him on the floor within seconds. Tara yelled at her older sister and fled the house and everyone followed them outside. 

Before you could leave the house, Ethan told you to stay by the door while he went to go grab something. When he returned with your jacket in his hands, you didn’t bother holding back the smile that took over your face as he threw it over your shoulders before taking your hand again. 

You probably would’ve forgotten it had he not gone back for it, and you couldn’t be more grateful as the temperature you were met with once you stepped outside wasn’t exactly warm. At this point, you didn’t care about the whereabouts of the rest of your costume as they were cheap accessories that could easily be replaced, so you didn’t mind leaving them behind. 

You met back up with the group just as Sam got a drink thrown at her and been called a murderer by a group of girls. After yet another bicker between the sisters, Tara walks off with the others following behind her, leaving Sam to stand by herself. 

As you begin to tug Ethan in the direction of the others, he stops beside Sam, fumbling around in his pocket for something. “Here,” he said, holding the white fabric up. “Sorry, I only have, like, three tissues.”

You held back a laugh as Sam grabbed them from him, glaring at the two of you as she uselessly wiped at her soaked chest. Tugging on his hand again, you leave her behind as you walk the short distance back to his apartment. 

When you were in the privacy of Ethan’s room, you shrug off your jacket and sit down on his bed, leaning against the headboard and stretching your legs out in front of you. “Chad’s not home,” you point out the obvious and make sure to have a sultry tone to your voice. 

“No, he’s not,” Ethan replied, taking off the rest of the knight costume and dropping it by the growing laundry pile by the desk. “He probably went to check on Tara at her place.”

You nod as he sat next to you, his fingers trailing down your legs until they reached the zipper of your boots. “So, what I’m hearing is,” you trial off as he unzipped your boots and slid them off of you. He had his eyes on your legs, focusing on his task of ridding you of as many articles as he could, but the curve in his brow told you he was listening. “We’re all alone?”

Ethan dropped your boots to the floor, the thud sounding throughout the quiet room as he nodded, meeting your eyes. “Mhmm,”

You lean back on your elbows, watching as he moved so he was hovering over you. “We should really go see if she’s okay,” you say but make no move to stop what is bound to happen if one of you doesn’t pull away within the next few seconds. “You know, just to be sure.”

Ethan hums in agreement, situating himself between your legs, his hand sliding up your dress to tug at the hem of the stockings. “Yeah, we probably should go check on her,” he mumbled as he ghosted his lips over yours. “And the others.”

“Agreed,” you nearly whisper as your hands tug at his shirt, your hips bucking up into his just slightly. It was enough to soothe the ache you both were beginning to feel, much like how you felt earlier with him at the party.  “But we’re not going to, are we?”

He hummed, shaking his head before connecting your lips.

-

You were sitting with your back pressed against the headboard, a blanket covering your naked body and your phone in your hands. You scrolled through one of the articles posted about the killings that happened earlier in the night, which something you had no clue even happened. 

Ethan was at the end of the bed, half dressed as he couldn’t be bothered to put his shirt back on at the moment. 

Just as you were about to inform him of the two students that were killed, Chad bursted into the room. “Tara and Sam were just attacked,” he said. “Where the hell were you and where the hell is-” he cut himself off when he saw your bare shoulders peeking out from under the blanket and the annoyed face you gave him.

Ethan cursed him out as he moved back to block your body from Chad’s view. “Jesus, don’t you know how to knock?” He asked angrily, grabbing a grey shirt from off the floor and giving it to you. 

“Um, yes, I do,” Chad mumbled, embarrassed at what he just walked into. “To be honest, I was coming in here to accuse you of being the one who attacked them, but I see you’ve been…busy with something else.”

“Yeah?” Ethan asked as he pulled a grey henley over his head. “What gave you that idea?”

“Yeah, heh,” Chad trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess you don’t need me to be your wingman afterall, huh?”

When neither you or Ethan laughed, Chad cleared his throat and shook his head, pointing behind him with his thumb.

“Um, Mindy wants us all to go to Tara and Sam’s place,” he said. “So we’re all together and no one becomes suspicious of one another.”

“Really?” You scoff as you put the shirt on and throw the blanket off you. “Is this what our life has become?” You ask no one in particular and take the pair of sweatpants Ethan held out to you. 

He shrugged and covered your body with his as best as he could as Chad let out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, you know what?” He slowly backed out of the room, making both you and Ethan look over at him. “I’ll just see you guys over there, okay?”

You rolled your eyes when he closed the door again, sitting up straight once you were dressed. “I seriously can’t stand your roommate, you know that?”

While you began moving various blankets and pillows on the bed in search for your phone, you become too distracted to hear the way Ethan agreed with you, mumbling a quiet, “Yeah, me either,”

-

You had nearly dozed off multiple times during Mindy’s rant about the rules of horror movies and how to narrow down the suspects. You had your chin pressed to your hand that was resting on Ethan’s shoulder, your eyes feeling heavier as she continued to ramble. When she mentioned that newcomers, aka new friends, are most likely the killer, you lifted your head and furrowed your brows. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how I could be the killer,” you say and gesture over to where Sam was sitting. “I don’t even know her.”

“All the more reason you could be out to get her. You have no connection, but you’re friends with Tara, who was also attacked,” Mindy said, her eyes cold and accusing. “Now that I think of it, where were you when Sam and Tara were attacked? Everyone was at their place except for you.”

Before Chad could interrupt his sister’s interrogation and come to your defense, Ethan grabbed your hand. “She was with me last night,”

Mindy glared at him. “And where were you?” 

“At home,” Ethan answered. “In my room.”

“TMI,” Mindy shook her head, taking her eyes off the two of you.

“It is true, though,” Chad said after a few seconds, raising his hand as if he were answering a question. “I might have accidentally walked in on them.”

You give him a sarcastic smile and stand up. “There, it wasn’t either of us,” you say and tug on your boyfriend’s hand. “Can we go now? This is boring.”

Mindy squinted her eyes at you before shrugging. “Fine,” she said. “But I’ve got my eye on both of you.”

“Maybe you should have your eye on your girlfriend, too,” you point out and hear Anika scoff. “She’s also a newcomer.”

“Yeah, okay,” Anika muttered. “And maybe you should care more about your so-called friends rather than slutting it up with your boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at that, the words hardly affecting you and you pulled on Ethan’s hand, not noticing how his eyes were cold and hard. He glared at Anika, her harsh words about you playing on repeat in his head, before he let you lead him away from the group. 

-

At the sound of Quinn and her boyfriend going at it, you regret not asking Ethan if you could go with him to econ. Earlier you were sitting next to him on the Carpenter couch and were prepared to fall asleep with your head on his shoulder when he got a text. 

You were too distracted by his phone wallpaper, which was a picture of the two of you on your third date, to see what the text he had received said. He gave you a chaste kiss, mumbling something about needing to go and the word econ before he was gone. 

Now, still on the couch, you were sitting next to Anika as she flipped through the channels on the TV. At the sound of four distinct phones going off, you sat up and watched as Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad stood up from their chairs at the table and ran towards Quinn’s room.

This made both you and Anika stand up as well and follow after them, all six of you pausing outside the closed door. “What is going on?” As soon as you asked that, the door was pulled open and Quinn’s bloodied body was thrown at Anika. The force of the body took her to the floor and chaos erupted as the killer, dressed in a black robe and mask, stepped out of the room. 

They sliced up Mindy’s arm as Chad and Tara ran out of the apartment completely, leaving the four of you behind. The killer turned to you and you let out a small scream as they grabbed onto your arms and threw you into Quinn’s room. 

You landed on the floor with a harsh thud, a jolt of pain shooting down your arm. You watched in horror as they picked up Anika and plunged the knife into her stomach, twisting it and sliding it upwards. Sam came running out of the kitchen with a knife block in her hands and she slammed it against the head of the killer, making them fall to the floor with a grunt. 

“Guys, in here,” you yelled out and got up quickly, pulling them into the room with you. Sam slammed and locked the door, telling Mindy to do the same to the bathroom door. When she came face to face with ghostface, she tried closing the door before they got in, but failed to do so. She instead opted for the other door and slammed that one, but everyone knew it wouldn’t be long until it was broken through. 

It was then that Sam opened the window and secured the end of a ladder to the frame, successfully creating an escape route into the apartment next to hers. “You go first,” you say as you help Mindy hold the dresser against the door. After a quick debate, Sam finally gave in and began crawling across the ladder, yelling at the three of you once she was on the other side. 

“You next,” Mindy said to you and you shook your head, nearly losing your balance when the killer gave a particularly hard shove to the door. “Yes, go. I got Anika. Go.”

At this point, ghostface had his arm in the room and began swinging it around. As you gave Mindy a nod, the blade sliced against your back, cutting the shirt you were wearing as well as a layer or two of skin. 

You cry out in pain and rush towards the window. You avoided looking down as best as you could, listening to Danny and Sam’s words of encouragement as you crawled as fast as you could across the ladder. Danny easily pulled you into his apartment once you were in reaching distance, and the three of you began yelling for Mindy and Anika. 

Mindy made it across and Anika would’ve, too, had her wound not worsened and had she not wasted too much time crying over how high up she was. She was about half way when the killer finally broke into the room and walked to the window. They dropped the knife and grabbed onto the ladder, swaying it in a mocking manner. Anika cried out once she was about half way, giving up on trying to crawl the rest of the way.

What none of you knew, at that moment, was how the degrading words Anika had spit at you earlier played through Ethan’s mind, making his hold on the ladder tighten. He stopped moving it for just a second before gathering the strength he needed and flipping it onto its side, sending Anika falling several stories down. Her head slammed off a dumpster before her body fell limp a few seconds later, her lifeless face staring up at the four of you.

-

The sun was glaring down at you as you sat in the back of the ambulance. The paramedic examines your arm after she places a large bandage on your back, successfully stopping the blood flow from the cut. She came to the conclusion that your elbow was sprained and after she finished wrapping it in a sling, your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. 

Ethan ducks under the caution tape as you quickly stand up and take off in his direction. He drops his bag to the ground as you throw yourself at him, not caring about the pain that shoots up your arm at the force of your body hitting his. You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down into as you cry, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” he said, guilt evident in his voice. “Are you okay?” He asked quickly, hearing you whimper in response. 

You shake your head and he wraps his arms around you protectively, eyeing the body bag in the alley way with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Chad makes his way over to the two of you, his defensive side coming out. “Where the hell were you last night?”

“Back off, man,” Ethan muttered, standing up straight and keeping his arm around your shoulders. “I had econ. Ask anyone I was with last night.”

Chad scoffed. “You were the only one who wasn’t here last night,”

You had grown tired of the countless accusations thrown around and lifted your head to glare at Chad through teary eyes. “Would you give it a rest?” You ask angrily. “I think I would know if my boyfriend of almost two years is going around killing people.”

“I thought the same thing,” Sam mumbled as she stood next to Chad. “But I was wrong.”

“Guys, come on,” Ethan sighed, feeling like he was being backed into a corner but not letting his defensive side come out. It would give everything away. “I already told you where I was. Ask one of the hundred people who I was with.”

At that Chad and Sam backed off, walking away with heavy shoulders.

You press your head against his chest once they leave, small whimpers still escaping your lips. Ethan holds you tightly, his eyes narrowing at the cut in your shirt and the glimpse of the white bandage he could see under it. 

He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he stares at the Carpenter sisters and the twins, his eyes holding a deadly glare. 

It’ll all be over soon. He thinks to himself. 

And when it is, it’ll just be you and him - just like how it always had and always will be.

-

Thank you all SO MUCH for the love and support I received on the teaser. It blew my mind as I truly wasn't expecting it :') I hope you all enjoyed this <3 (ps. I tried to make it as accurate as possible to the movie, but I have a terrible memory heha.)

I don't normally tag people, but since you asked ;) @anonoussy

[parkerslatte]

Overlooked | Part Five

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: The day has arrived for Y/N and Eris to get married and she gets nervous that her sisters won’t show up.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue

•••

The day began with Y/N waking up early, not from excitement but from nervousness. She had reluctantly left the warmth of Eris’s arms and sat in front of her dresser. It was her wedding day, Y/N knew that she should be over the moon but the overwhelming feeling of dread threatened to take over. 

When Y/N pictured her wedding when she was younger, she always imagined her three younger sisters walking down the aisle before her before she stepped out in her magnificent dress prepared to greet her soon to be husband. Now she was not even sure her sisters would show up for her wedding. 

“What are you doing over here?” Eris’s sleepy voice interrupted her thoughts. “We still have a few hours in bed before we need to wake.”

“You can go back to bed,” Y/N said. “I can’t really sleep.”

“You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?” Eris asked, his tone teasing but once he caught a glimpse of Y/N’s saddened expression, his smile dropped. “Do you still want to marry me?”

“Of course I do!” Y/N exclaimed. “I just…it’s just hard. Not knowing if my sisters are going to show up.” Eris perched himself on the stool next to Y/N, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep the both of them on it. “I am marrying the love of my life, I should be happy but if I walk down that aisle and see that they aren’t there, I will feel…betrayed, if that is even the right word for it. I know that we were not the closest but they are still my sisters. We should always stand by one another.”

Eris pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “My dear, if they don’t show up, then it's a huge reflection on them and their personalities. If they do not show up then they do not deserve your love. Because I know how much you love and I have seen how it sometimes hurts you.”

Y/N allowed her head to fall upon his shoulder. “I just really want them there, Eris.”

“From your last conversation, do you believe they will?” Eris questioned. 

“I honestly do not know,” Y/N exhaled. “My sisters seemed eager to get back to the Night Court so I can only hope that they talked to the others about the conversation we had, but I know how easily both Feyre and Nesta can be distracted by Rhys and Cassian. When they are around, it is as if I am not there.”

“What of Elain?” Eris asked.

Y/N sighed. “It’s more complicated with her. I know that she holds some attraction to Azriel but I do know that she has been in contact with Lucien these past few weeks.”

“How did you know that?” Eris asked. 

“While Lucien was here two weeks ago, a letter came for him but was accidentally delivered to me accidently. I would recognise my sister’s handwriting anywhere,” Y/N said. “To be honest, even if it is just Elain that shows up, I will be more than happy about that.”

“Even if they don’t show up, you are surrounded by people who love you,” Eris said. 

“And people who hate me,” Y/N said bitterly. “There are still people who work in this palace that cannot abide my presence, Eris.”

“And I am working on removing them–”

“And it is taking you too long!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am never allowed in any of the meetings because you won’t allow it!”

Eris stilled and Y/N regretted her words instantly. “Eris, I did not mean that at all. I am so sorry.”

“I know,” Eris said, his voice saddened. “And you don’t need to apologise because it is true. I could have gotten rid of those particular advisors months ago but I haven’t.”

“No, Eris, don’t do that,” Y/N said. “Don’t sit there and find excuses for my words. I shouldn’t have snapped at you at all, my love. I know you want to avoid an internal war within the court.”

At the term of endearment, Eris seemed to relax slightly. “You don’t need to apologise for snapping at me, Y/N. Of course I want you in those meetings, I cannot speak your ideas as eloquently as you. But I don’t wish to see the sneers and glares sent your way every single time you walk through those doors to the meeting room. Keeping you away is not something I want to do. It only reminds me of my father.”

Y/N lightly kissed his bare shoulder. “You are nothing like your father, Eris.”

“But leaving you out of court matters makes me seem like it,” Eris replied. “He never allowed my mother in any meetings either.”

“Unlike him, you allow me to have my opinions and words heard,” Y/N tried to reason with her mate.

“But through my voice, not yours,” Eris replied. 

“It doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I know I am making a change in this court. I know I am helping those in need and pathing the way for a better life for everyone in this court.” Y/N cupped his cheek. The stubble was gone but Y/N missed it, she had grown quite attached to it. 

“The moment you become my wife, I will fire those advisors immediately,” Eris said. 

“What about the possibilities of an internal war?” Y/N asked.

“If that does happen, I have enough resources and allies that will win it for us in no time. But I cannot sit here a moment longer and take credit for the large changes happening in court when it is all you,” Eris said and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Eris I can’t let you risk a war for me,” Y/N said. “I am perfectly content to wait.”

“Y/N, you must already know that I would crawl to the ends of the earth for you, a simple war is not going to stop me from having your voice heard,” Eris tenderly kissed her palm. “You must know how much I love and adore you.”

“I know, Eris,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she leaned her forehead against Eris’s. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Eris suggested. “We still have a couple of hours before we need to wake.”

And that is exactly what the pair did. Y/N fit perfectly within Eris’s arms, her back pressed tightly against his chest. His scent surrounded her and Y/N found that every worry seemed to drift away, even if she knew it would only be for a couple of hours. With that, Y/N managed to drift off to a peaceful sleep.

***

With her hair styled and her dress on, Y/N felt like the bride she had always imagined to be. There were multiple times where she had nearly cried off the colouring around her eyes. Now as she stood behind the doors, her heart hammered in her chest. She had not seen Eris since he was whisked out of their bedroom and into his own dressing room that morning. The only communication they had since then was the waves of love sent down the bond. 

But now, Y/N could feel Eris’s nervousness and she could feel his. 

There was nothing to be nervous about and Y/N knew that. She was marrying the love of her and life and having her dream wedding. Nothing would ever rival this day, perhaps possibly their mating ceremony, but even that hadn’t been as grand of a scale as this. 

“Are you ready, High Lady?” One of the maids asked, a bright smile on her face. 

Y/N let out a long breath. “I am.”

The maid smiled and straightened out her veil. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, looking down at her dress once more. 

The grand doors opened and the musicians immediately began playing. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from tearing up at the song. It was the same song that they shared their first ever dance to the night they met. 

Y/N’s eyes met Eris’s and her chest felt tighter. He was dressed in a suit similar gold to hers and had splashes of the gold dusting her eyes on his. She gasped at the sight of him, she had never seen him look so beautiful before. 

Even from the opposite end of the aisle, she could see the way he tried to hold in his tears. Her soul sang to his as she took her first few steps down the aisle. That invisible thread seemed to pull her toward him and she would gladly follow wherever he was. The male standing at the end of the aisle was the furthest thing from how others described him. He was loving and protective and the most incredible being Y/N had ever met. She was lucky to hold him in her arms every night. 

The closer Y/N got to Eris, she broke eye contact for the briefest moment to look around at all of the people surrounding her. Many were from other courts yet the hall was mostly filled with commoners from the Autumn Court. Y/N had invited the farmers, bakers and business owners. Families with children and without. This was not just a day to celebrate her and Eris, it was to celebrate the court itself and the positive changes it was making. 

Who she didn’t see however was her sisters. Her heart sank as the smile wavered on her face but once her eyes met Eris’s once more he nodded his head toward the back of the hall. Somewhere where Y/N had not even glanced at in the moments she began to walk down the aisle. 

There were her sisters. Each smiling as she walked down the aisle, Nyx in Feyre’s arms. Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel all sat beside them. Y/N locked eyes with each of her sisters and the smile on her face shined bright once more.

A small tap against her shields had Y/N immedietly bringing them down. 

You look beautiful, Feyre said. 

Thank you for coming, Y/N said.

We wouldn’t miss this, Feyre replied and she was gone from her mind. 

Y/N’s gaze lingered on her three sisters for a brief moment longer before she turned back to Eris. Y/N knew that she had to walk in pace to the music but in those last few feet she didn’t care. She passed her boquet to a Day Court official sitting on the end of the row and lifted up the front of her skirt as she ran to Eris. 

Eris only opened his arms as she flung her arms around him.

“You are stunning,” Eris mumbled into her ear. 

Y/N didn’t respond as she took a step back as Eris took her hands in his. As they locked eyes, Eris finally allowed a singular tear to fall down his cheek. Y/N released her fans from his hold and wiped it away. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eris whispered.

“Me neither,” Y/N replied, bringing his hand to her lips and kissing his knuckles tenderly. 

Both Y/N and Eris seemed to be in their own small world when the ceremony began. Everything around them seemed to melt away until the two of them stood alone in the hall together. Eris’s hand shook as he held onto hers, it reminded Y/N of their mating ceremony, he was nervous then too. A small squeeze of reassurance was all it took to subside the shaking. A reminder to Eris that he was present and the whole spectacle was just a figment of his imagination. 

“And now the vows,” the officiator announced.

The wedding was more accustomed to a human wedding ceremony with elements of a fae ceremony sprinkled in to make it official. Eris wanted to replicate her dream wedding and he had done it to perfection. It was as if Y/N stepped out of her own daydream.

Eris let out a shaky breath before speaking. “Y/N, I will begin by saying that you are the love of my life. A love that I never thought I deserved.”

Eris took another breath and closed his eyes, as if he were begging the tears to stay at bay. “I will keep this short because you already know how much I adore and love you but I want you to know Y/N, that you saved my life. The moment you walked into it, everything was changed, the planets aligned, you saved me from myself, from dooming this court to continue under the way it was ruled previously.”

“You are my light, Y/N, a light I never thought would shine upon me. A light so bright yet I never saw it coming. You are my mate, my love, my wife, my whole world. And I will spend eternity loving you because it is what you deserve, it is what you have always deserved.”

The tears fell in rhythmic succession down Y/N’s face as she held tightly onto Eris’s hands. “How am I meant to follow that?”

A small chorus of laughs echoed throughout the hall.

Eris smiled brightly and squeezed her hands. 

“Eris, I love you,” Y/N began. Her heart hammered in her chest. “I wasn’t looking for love when I found you. But you were so patient with me, you allowed me to pursue things at my own pace. Never once did you pressure me into anything.”

Eris’s thumb lightly caressed her knuckles and Y/N struggled to keep her composure. 

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I even love the way you want to hold my hand every moment of the day even if it is inconvenient for us both.” Eris chuckled quietly and dipped his head. “Most importantly Eris, I love your soul. I love how much you love and how much you care. And now I am just talking from the heart, but you deserve this. You deserve so much love, and I will happily give it to you for our entire lives, as your wife, as your mate, as your friend. You are my entire life, Eris and you always will be.”

With their eyes locked, Eris sent so much love down the bond that it was almost overwhelming. But Y/N just simply returned it. 

“And with that,” the officiator began. “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, High Lord.”

“I damn sure will,” Eris said before gently cupping Y/N’s cheeks and pressed his lips against hers in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. 

Their tears mixed together and Y/N was sure that the gold dusting her and Eris’s eyelids was now all over their faces but she didn’t care. She was kissing her husband, her mate, the love of her life. 

Something deep within Y/N seemed to awaken and before she knew it heat surrounded them as the guests gasped in awe. Y/N only pulled away from Eris to look at the spectacle that surrounded them. Fire swirled in elegant patterns around the hall. Sparks falling down around the hall but vanished when they were close to anything it could harm. 

Y/N gasped. “Did you do this?”

Eris was not looking at the spectacle when Y/N turned back to him, he was only looking at her. “No,” he answered. “You are.”

“But how–”

“I told you, there is more to your power,” Eris wrapped his hand around hers.

The fire slowly began to disappear until nothing remained. Y/N turned back to Eris, whose eyes were still fixed on her.

“Shall we go, my love?” Eris asked. 

Y/N smiled. “Yes we shall.”

The two walked down the aisle to the applause of everyone in the hall.

***

The ballroom was smaller than the hall Y/N and Eris married in but was still just as grand. People danced and enjoyed themselves. Some drank too much and were escorted out by their friends. It was everything Y/N had envisioned for her wedding day. 

The only thing she needed was her sisters. 

As Y/N walked through the ballroom, her sights set on the group huddled in the far corner of the ballroom. Her sisters, more specifically Elain, was straying further from the group as she tried to find someone in the mass of people, but once her younger sister's eyes landed on her she smiled and rushed over. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Elain said as she wrapped her in a hug. 

Y/N’s arms immediately wrapped around her sister and hugged her fiercely. “It’s okay. I am glad you are here.”

As Y/N pulled away from Elain, Feyre and Nesta were approaching. Like Elain, Feyre gave her a hug and offered her a quiet apology. Finally Nesta stood before her. Unlike her two youngest sisters, Nesta remained there, as elegant as ever, with her arms folded across her chest. 

“Nesta,” Y/N greeted. “I am glad you are–”

Before Y/N could finish her sentence, Nesta had wrapped Y/N in a tight hug. She had never been too close to Nesta and she was sure that she could count on one hand the number of times they had hugged in their life. But this was by far Y/N’s favourite. 

“I am sorry for the way we treated you, Y/N,” Nesta said and pulled away. 

“It is okay,” Y/N said.

“No it isn’t, Y/N,” Feyre said. “We should not have pushed you away. We should not have ignored you. Your trauma from the cauldron was just as valid as Nesta and Elain and we did nothing for you.”

“We are also sorry for how we treated you and Eris,” Elain butt in. “From the looks of things, you two love each other and he absolutely adores you. It was wrong of us to assume he had forced you to stay here.”

“Can you ever forgive us?” Feyre asked. 

“There are a lot of things you three have not done for me over the past few years,” Y/N began. “Feyre, Elain you have described them perfectly. I am not forgiving you immediately, we three need to have time to rebuild any relationship we had before.” Her three sisters lost the small smiles on their faces. “But tonight, I would just like to be with my sisters and celebrate with them. When I imagined my wedding day, I always pictured you three there beside me.”

Elain took Y/N’s hand. “We will always be beside you, Y/N. We love you.”

Y/N smiled. “I love you three too.”

Y/N held a little tighter onto Elain’s hand and then gripped onto Nesta’s hand. “Now as it is my wedding day and as I am High Lady of this court, I demand you three to dance with me.”

Y/N dragged the two to the centre of the dancefloor. People around them watched but Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care about appearances. All she wanted to do was have fun with her sisters. Nests tried to remain poised but Y/N simply held onto her hands and pulled her sister into a dance. 

“Nesta, there is no one to impress here,” Y/N said, twirling her sister around. “Relax.”

Nesta’s shoulders seemed to relax the slightest amount as the musicians began to play a more upbeat piece of music. Y/N spun around on the dancefloor with her sisters and she began to beckon people to join them. 

Standing on the outskirts of the circle was Aliana and Y/N beckoned her over. She did so without complaint. Y/N released Nesta’s hands and gripped onto Aliana’s. “I am so glad you decided to join the celebrations.”

“You have invited most of the village!” Aliana exclaimed. “I expected to walk in and be amongst official court advisors.”

“I invited everyone from the village, and some of the surrounding ones,” Y/N said. “I would have invited more but I don’t believe that there would be time for them to travel, so I sent them all small wedding favours.”

“When I heard that there was going to be a High Lady of Autumn, I didn’t expect you to be so kind,” Aliana said. 

Y/N smiled. “I only want what is best for everyone. Everyone deserves to be seen and live in a safe space. I did not have that growing up so I want to make sure others do.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Aliana said. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me,” Y/N said and caught a glimpse of someone over Aliana’s shoulder. “There is someone here to see you.”

Aliana released Y/N’s hands and turned to look behind her. She gasped as tears sprung to her eyes. “Is that-?”

“Your mother,” Y/N said. “I released her from her ban from the Autumn Court. She can come back whenever she pleases. She can even move back if she wanted.”

Aliana flung her arms around Y/N. “Thank you, Y/N. Nobody has ever done something ths kind to our family before.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around Aliana before gently pulling away. “Go and spend time with your mother. I will see you later.”

“Later? What do you mean later?” Aliana asked.

“Well, I will need a royal seamstress for the palace,” Y/N said.

Aliana stepped away. “That is a made up title.”

“You are correct,” Y/N replied. “I did just make that up. But that is your new title if you choose to accept it.” Aliana opened her mouth to reply but Y/N simply held up her hand. “We can discuss more about it another time. Go to your mother.”

“Thank you,” Aliana said and rushed toward her mother and threw her arms around her. Y/N smiled at the sight. 

“Come on!” Elain exclaimed and pulled Y/N in for another dance in the crowd of people.

Y/N happily complied as through the crowd she saw Eris. He held a glass of wine in his hand as he watched her with a smile. Y/N beckoned him to the dance floor but he shook his head and nodded in the direction of her sisters. Before Y/N could try to coerce him again, Lucine appeared at his side and he was sucked into conversation. 

Y/N turned back to her sisters and danced the night away.

***

The music was slower and a lot of people had retired home, though many still remained. Y/N’s arms were wrapped around Eris’s neck and her head rested on his shoulder as they gently swayed to the music. 

“My wife,” Eris muttered.

“My husband,” Y/N muttered in return.

“I don’t know how I ever lived without you,” Eris said, his voice full of emotion. “You are the other half of my soul.”

Y/N gripped onto him tighter. She still was overwhelmed with emotions, all melting together and she couldn’t distinguish what emotion was what. 

“You are a dream, Eris Vanserra,” Y/N said.

“And you are a vision, Y/N Archeron,” Eris replied.

“Are you upset that I didn’t take your name?” Y/N asked.

“My love, I do not care,” Eris said. “All I care about is that I can call you my wife and my mate.”

“I love you,” Y/N muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Eris’s neck.

“I love you too,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

The picture perfect image was interrupted by a small cough. Eris tensed and Y/N pulled away to look directly into Rhysand’s eyes.

“May I have a dance, High Lady?” Rhysand asked.

Eris held a protective arm around her waist as he glared at Rhysand. Her hand rested on his chest in a comforting manner. From the looks of things Rhysand did not look like he was here to cause any drama. Both Cassian and Azriel were standing on the outskirts conversing with Nesta and Feyre, Elain was nowhere to be seen.

“Of course,” Y/N said. “Eris, would you mind getting me a drink? I won’t be long.”

“Yes, my love,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. His gaze once again fell upon Rhysand before he turned and walked away, leaving both Y/N and Rhysand alone.

Rhysand swept Y/N in a dance, his hand resting on her mid back while he clutched her hand with his as he spun around the dancefloor.

“Why did you want to dance, Feyre is just over there?” Y/N questioned.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Rhysand replied.

“Then talk,” Y/N said bluntly. “I was happy spending time with Eris before you cut in.”

Rhysand looked around the ballroom. “How did you convince him to invite people from the village?”

Y/N frowned, offended on behalf of her mate and husband. “I did not convince him to do anything, Rhysand. I sent out the invitations and he helped me do it.” Y/N pulled away. “If the only thing you want to do is insult Eris to my face, then I will gladly leave you here.”

Rhysand sighed and caught her wrist. “I am sorry, Y/N. I truly am.”

“Look, I do not like you, Rhysand. I have made that abundantly clear time and time again,” Y/N said. “But you make my sister happy, happier than I have ever seen her so I must thank you for that. You also played a part in creating my adorable nephew and that is another thing I can thank you for. But you and I are not friends. Especially not when you insult Eris at every given chance, even after Feyre explained to you why he did the things that he did.”

Rhysand sighed once more. “I know, and I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

Against her better judgement, Isal gently took his hand in hers. “Listen, Rhysand. I do not forgive you now, and I probably won’t forgive you until many years down the line, first you must not continue to see Eris as his father. He will never admit it to anyone else but me but that is what he fears the most. He is scared of becoming like his father, sometimes he wakes in the middle of the night crying and screaming because nightmares plague him.” Y/N said. “You need to realise that the two have quite a lot in common. All you both wanted is to protect the ones you love.”

Rhysand remained silent. 

“If you actually want to see the positive changes already made in the court, because of me and Eris, you and everyone else are welcome to stay for the following few days, there are plenty of guest rooms available,” Y/N offered. “Now if you will excuse me, I am going to spend time with the person I love. As for you, try to at least have fun and not act like a sword is hanging over your head.”

With that Y/N stepped away from Rhysand and walked away from him, a weight lifted from her shoulders.

She found Eris standing by the drinks table and she hastily approached him, not wanting to be apart from him any longer. Eris immediately perked up as Y/N drew closer, pulling her into his side once she was in arm's reach. 

“What did he want to talk about?” Eris asked, lazily resting his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. 

“I think it was meant to be an apology,” Y/N said, taking a sip of the wine. “But I am sure he just spent the time trying to pick fault with you.”

Eris growled and looked in Rhysand’s direction. But all Y/N needed to do was link her fingers with his and his attention was instantly devoured back to her. 

“It’s our wedding day,” Y/N said softly. “Let us just spend the remainder of the night together and not worry about anything else, or anybody else for that matter.”

Eris moved his face closer to hers so his lips hovered just above hers. “I like the sound of that idea.” His voice was low and deep, the tone that always made Y/N weak at the knees. 

Eris connected their lips and Y/N abandoned her drink on the table and wrapped her arms around him. She did not care that they were standing where everyone could see, the only thing that mattered was Eris and the fact that he was hers. 

Y/N was the first to pull away. She rested her forehead on his. “I know we will be leaving close to two hundred people in the ballroom, but all I want to do is retire to our bedroom. I don’t even want to have sex, I just want to lay down in our bed and hold one another until we fall asleep.”

“I like the sound of that idea more,” Eris said and began to drag her through the ballroom and to the exit. 

“You always love the sound of my ideas,” Y/N commented.

“I do,” Eris said. “I could listen to them for hours on end and never tire of your voice.”

“You are just saying that because you love me,” Y/N teased.

“That is true,” Eris jokes. “When I am tired and you ask me if I am still awake to ask me a silly question, that is when I tire of your voice.”

Y/N laughed as she and Eris stumbled into their bedroom. Almost immediately, Eris began to unlace her dress and watched as it fell away and to the floor, leaving her in only a simple pair of underwear. 

“You are truly stunning,” Eris said. “I should tell you that more often.”

“You tell me that every day,” Y/N said, beginning to take off Eris’s clothing. 

“It is never enough,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder.

Y/N shivered as he unclasped her bra and let it fall from her body. There was nothing sexually charged about the atmosphere, all Y/N and Eris needed was to hold each other and to feel each other. 

Y/N pulled him to the bed and shuffled to the centre of it, pulling Eris across with her. The contrast of the cool sheets and the heat emitting from Eris’s body made her relax and pull Eris closer so her head could easily rest in the crook of his neck. 

Now that they were in privacy, Eris’s entire demeanour changed. When he was surrounded by court officials, from their own court and others, and the fae from the village, he put up his High Lord front. But now, with only Y/N as witness, he stripped that all back and was fully able to be his true self. The side that only Y/N ever got to see. 

“My mate, my wife,” Eris mumbled. “I will never tire of saying that.”

“My mate, my husband,” Y/N responded, her lips brushing his neck. “I will never tire of saying it either.”

Eris drew small patterns upon her skin as the two lay there in silence. Y/N’s eyes were closed but she was not sleeping, she was simply enjoying the simple pleasure in being cuddled up to the love of her life. The love that she never thought would ever come true. The love she deserved. The love she was destined for.

[twoheartedfool]

Unearthed

Thomas Shelby x F!Reader

CW: Funerals, mention of blood, angsty angst, happy ending?

The funeral was a dark one, as it should be expected. The dark clouds rolling over matched the mood of everyone in Small Heath mourning over their beloved king, Mr. Thomas Shelby. England mourned along with you. You had forgotten your umbrella in the daze on the way to the cemetery. Ada, with her arm wrapped in yours, held one over the two you. She didn’t fuss over you. She knew you wouldn’t like it. But her, and the other siblings that you had began to call your own, were all there for you. Silently in the background, they made sure everything went smoothly because you were too much in a fog.

Over the past 24 hours you had felt more emotions than you thought you could handle; despair, anger, betrayal, and now numbness. You were empty. The words said about Tommy were all just buzz in your ears. You stared at the closed casket but felt nothing. You didn’t even realize it was over until Arthur was kissing your forehead and there was a line of people behind him that were waiting to pay their respects. If Tommy was their king, then you were their queen. You didn’t want to see any of them. 

John kissed your cheek next but you continued to stare blankly at the casket. Another figure stood in front of you and you didn’t look at them until you heard their sniffles. Finn. You still had to remind yourself to look up when looking at him. He had grown so much. 

“(Y/N),” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” 

Hearing his words finally awoke something inside you. 

“Finn,” you started. Everyone looked startled at the sound of your voice. They couldn’t remember when you had spoken last. 

You took the young man’s face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Finn, you didn’t do this. There are men in this world, very, very bad men that did this, and they will pay for what they did. You are not one of those men. Tommy loved you. This isn’t your fault. Understood?” 

He nodded quickly. Arthur clamped a loving hand on his shoulder, “Wipe your tears, bruv.” 

“(Y/N), we’re going to the Garrison so everyone can be together. So we can celebrate Tommy,” Ada said softly. 

“I won’t be going to that,” you replied. 

“Please, we’re worried about you,” Esme said. 

“I said no,” you snapped. You sighed and closed your eyes, “I want to stay here a little while.” 

“Let us drive you back at least,” Arthur said. 

“I’ll walk,” you said coldly. 

“Come on, let’s leave her be,” John muttered, pulling Esme and Ada away. Finn shuffled behind them. Arthur stepped towards you.

“You, too, Arthur,” John called out. After a few moments, he finally huffed and walked towards the cars. You vaguely heard him shouting at everyone else to get moving. They filtered away and you watched as men started shoveling dirt into the grave. 

When someone stood beside you again, anger startled to boil up. “I said--”

You were startled by a man you had never seen before holding an envelope towards you. 

“Mrs. Shelby, this is for you.” 

“What is it?” 

“I can’t tell you that but it’s important that you take it.” 

“And who the fuck are you?” 

“I can’t tell you that, either. Please, Mrs. Shelby.” 

Looking down at the envelope, all possible outcomes of what it could be ran through your head. It was too thin to be an explosive. With a sigh, you ripped it out of his hands. 

The handwriting of the letter made your blood run cold. It was too familiar. You would recognize it anywhere. 

(Y/N),

Meet me in the basement of this address. Wait until after the Garrison. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll explain everything. 

All my love. 

There wasn’t a signature but you didn’t need one to know who it was from, or who you thought it was from anyway. With a snap of your head, you looked up at the man but he was already gone. Desperately looking for any of the Shelby’s, all you saw were the boys filling the grave. All of the cars were gone. But that didn’t matter. You knew a shortcut. 

Many people stared after you while you sprinted pass them. All of them just muttered things to themselves such as “poor girl” or “I don’t know what she’ll be without him.” You of course didn’t notice any of them. All you were focused on was getting to the address. It was in a part of town that you rarely came to, down by the river where it was mostly abandoned warehouses. 

Getting into the building was difficult. It seemed to be the only empty building that still had working locks. Eventually you found an open window that was easy enough to climb through. 

With staggered breath, you made it to the basement. Other than some old crates, there was nothing. The silence was deafening.

A fresh wave of tears made it to your eyes. How could you let yourself gain hope?

“How could I be so stupid?” you whispered fiercely, wiping away your tears. 

“I thought I told you to wait until after the Garrison.” 

You nearly screamed at the voice behind you. Walking around a corner was the man you thought you buried this morning. 

“Tommy,” you whispered, horrified. He wasn’t dressed in his normal suit, just pants, suspenders, and a white shirt that was covered in dirt and blood. Cuts and bruises lined his face. Slowly, you stepped forward, your fingertips hesitantly touching his cheek, his eyes fluttering close at your warmth. He was real. 

“Tommy,” you repeated. 

“It’s me, love.” 

Without a second thought, you threw yourself at him. He caught you easily, accepting your lips that hastily searched for his. You held onto him as tightly as you could, and him you. 

The kiss was finished with a harsh smack against his cheek that echoed throughout the basement. 

“How dare you,” you growled. 

“(Y/N)--”

“No! I had to bury you!” you slapped against his chest. 

“Love, listen-” 

“How dare you!” you screamed, continually hitting against his chest. Sobs escaped you in screams. All the feelings you had been bottling up inside were finally coming up. Tommy secured you tightly against, softly shushing in your ear. 

“You were dead.” 

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m sorry. I’m here. We’re alright now.” 

“How could you do this?” you wailed into his neck. His fingers grasped the nape of your neck, keeping you steady as your sobs slowed.

“It had be done. I needed them to believe it. You couldn’t have know, or else they wouldn’t have went with it.” 

“I don’t understand. Me. Your family. They all thought you were dead.” 

It was barely a twitch in his fingers that you felt in your hair. His silence accompanied it. You leaned away to meet his eyes, your vision finally clearing from the tears. He held the contact boldly. He was an expert at this and known throughout England because of it. Thomas Shelby and his cold, blue eyes. 

But you’re weren’t the rest of England.

“Who did you tell?” you asked. He kept your gaze as you stepped away from him. 

“You couldn’t have known,” he repeated bluntly, a pulse in his clenched jaw.

“Who knew, Thomas?” 

“Arthur.”

A strike of a rage went through you. There was that feeling again, betrayal. You felt it towards the world and God when they killed Thomas. Now you felt it towards the man himself and his brother. 

“Who else?” 

Tommy licked his lips and sighed, “Aunt Pol.” 

You scowled. “That’s why she wasn’t there today.” 

“She didn’t agree with my decision.”

“Of course she didn’t fucking agree with it! Who the fuck would?” you exploded. “What about the others? Do they know? Jesus, Tommy! Finn thinks that all of this is his fault!” 

“When the time is right, I will speak to Finn. He’ll understand. They all will.”

“I don’t,” you muttered. “You’re a bastard. You could have told me.” 

Thomas was hesitant to step forward but when you didn’t make any immediate signs of rejection, he took your face in his hands. He held you firmly, stroking his thumb against the tear stains on your cheeks. When he touched you, it felt like he was touching the most important thing in the world, because to him he was. And he was pleading with the world that you would forgive him for this.

“How would you have felt if I had done this?” you wondered. 

“Broken,” he admitted truthfully and without hesitation. Before you could speak, he continued. “But better than I would have felt if they had gotten to you. I wasn’t the only one with a target on my back. They were going to kill you, but I put myself forward. Nothing will keep you from me, or I you. Do I understand?” 

Exhausted, you lean your forehead against his. The bile in the back of your throat was settling. For a just a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him and exist outside the past few days. To feel him under your fingertips and his hands against your back.

“You’re still a bastard, Tommy.”

“I know.”

“And you’re not forgiven yet. If you ever try something like this again, you will not be able to fake your death because I will kill you.”

“I know, love.”

[violetarks]

when he overhears you speaking to one of your friends about confessing to your crush soon, osamu prepares himself for the worst.

he’s always been in his brother’s shadow, and nearly everyone who has ever talked to him did so for the sake of getting closer to atsumu. just because you two sit next to each other in class and talk a lot doesn’t mean you are automatically different. it could be that you only smiled at him the way you do because you somehow knew that osamu thought about you 24/7, and you liked playing a little game on him.

and so what if you got along with atsumu? and when you three would walk to and from class together, you would butt heads and he’d smile at your behaviour. it didn’t mean a thing, did it?

except it did. and he is more than annoyed at that.

“well, why don’cha asked her out?” atsumu asks his brother that day as they walk home, “she could be confessin’ to you.”

“i dunno’,” osamu replies as he stares at the ground, “jus’ think she’s not gonna’ ask me, ya’ know?”

“yer’ an idiot, ‘samu,” atsumu dodges a whack in the head, “go n’ ask her out! this is yer’ chance!”

“ugh, whatever, tsumu…” osamu doesn’t say anything more, but he secretly hopes his brother is right about this. he plans to ask you out tomorrow after school.

but his plans get interrupted when he and his brother get to their shoe lockers and a letter sits in atsumu’s. they stare at it as atsumu carefully unfold it.

it’s a confession, but not just any — it’s yours. osamu would recognise that handwriting anywhere.

“dear miya,

“i have been wanting to say this for the longest time — i have feelings for you. it has taken me so long to gather the courage to admit this to you in hopes that you reciprocate my feelings. you are kind and genuinely funny, and your smile makes my heart burst. i think that you’re one of the sweetest people i’ve ever met.

“i do not expect you to answer me straight away, but know that i wait for your response. thank you for being such a wonderful person to me. i couldn’t imagine a better person to be near.

“l/n”

atsumu slowly turns to his brother as he rereads it ten times now.

“osamu—”

“i knew it.” osamu interrupts as he slams his shoe locker shut and trudges into the building.

people watch him as he marches passed them. when he makes it to his homeroom, you’re sitting at your desk and scribbling down something on your notebook. he takes a deep breath in and sits at his spot.

“oh, osamu,” you mumble out as you see him, “i, uh… did you see my letter?”

“‘course i did.” his voice is sharper, which catches you off guard.

“y—yeah? what do you think?”

“i don’t wanna’ talk about it,” he grunts as he looks away from you, “i don’t even care.”

you stare at the back of his head before deciding to be quiet. perhaps he just wasn’t in the mood to talk.

at lunch, osamu and atsumu usually eat with the volleyball team in the cafeteria, but atsumu can’t help but feel his brother’s sadness radiate ofd him. he excuses himself from the table and makes a beeline for you.

“yo, y/n,” atsumu speaks up. you and your friends look up from your food to see the heartthrob staring at you. “can i talk to you for a sec?”

“oh… sure,” you say as you get up. you follow him outside the building to talk in the empty hallway. “is something wrong?”

atsumu rubs the back of his head. he doesn’t know how to explain his rejection, it’s different because he knows that osamu genuinely likes you. usually, he’s just flat out say it. but this was hard.

“look, about yer’ confession—”

“why didn’t osamu like it?” you interject with your hands playing with each other. you stare at the floor with furrowed brows. “i don’t understand…”

“huh?” atsumu scoffs with crossed arms. he doesn’t understand you. “what are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout? osamu’s in love with you, y/n!”

“but,” you mumble with hot cheeks, “he—he said he didn’t care!”

“oh my god, y/n,” atsumu groans with a roll of his eyes, “of course he’d care about you confessin’ to his brother! why else do ya’ think he’s pissy?”

you freeze up at that and don’t say a word.

“look, i’m just here to say that i don’t return yer’ feelings, okay?” he sighs to you, “and i don’t think i ever could. i just see you as a friend of my brother’s, and i would never do that to ‘samu.”

“who… said i was confessing to you?”

it’s atsumu’s turn to be confused. he tilts his head.

“you… what?”

“i was confessing to osamu. i—i mean, i didn’t put his name because i got a little nervous and wrote it very formally, but still,” you explain to atsumu, “i wasn’t… the letter wasn’t for you. i’m sorry, no offence whatsoever, atsumu. i just… i just see you as my friend’s brother.”

“oh crap,” atsumu facepalms and wipes his jaw, “you put it in my locker by accident, ya’ idiot.”

“what?” you shriek in embarrassment, “i—i’m sorry, i thought osamu’s locker was the top one.”

“well, now you know it’s mine,” atsumu chuckles out. he reaches out and ruffles your hair. “go n’ talk to yer’ boyfriend, he’s been down all day.”

“i’m sorry, atsumu,” you apologise again with an embarrassed face. he feels kinda’ bad after spending the whole day being angry at you. “ah, this is the worst! no wonder he hasn’t spoken to me all day…”

“yeah, how could ya’ fuck up so bad?” he laughs at you.

“‘tsumu!”

“i’m not gonna’ help you, loser!” atsumu claims as you jab him in the stomach, “this ain’t my mistake.”

“ugh, whatever, just—”

the cafeteria door opens and out walks osamu. he looks left and right before he sees the both of you standing close together.

“atsumu,” he calls out, “c’mon, kita wants to talk to us.”

“r—right!” he walks over to his brother as you stare at your peer. osamu refuses to look at you.

“osamu,” you say to him as his brother walks back into the cafeteria. osamu stops on his tracks involuntarily, and can’t find himself to continue on. he lets you come closer. “can i talk to you after school today?”

“i have practice.” he responds.

“i can wait,” you say hastily, “just want to talk to you.”

he glares a little at you for a bit, but then reluctantly nods his head. you let him go and decide to finish your lunch with your friends and explain to them your situation. you get a few giggles, but you can’t blame them.

you watch from the entrance of gym as the twins practice their attack. the other players are resting and drinking from their bottles. you try to hide from around the corner and keep and eye on the younger twin, but you get caught by the captain.

“kita!” you jump as the captain blocks your view, “i’m sorry, i’m just waiting for the twins to finish.”

“you’re waiting for osamu, right?” he asks you as he looks to the said twin, “he is usually a little late to practice because he likes to walk you to your bike.”

“i’m sorry.” you sheepishly say.

“it’s fine,” he replies, “you wanted to speak to him? you may wait inside, if you’d like. it is cold out there.”

“oh? hey y/n,” suna calls out to you as he wipes his forehead, “come to watch?���

before you can say anything, kita is escorting you to sit on the stage. he lets you out your bag beside you and even asks if you’d like to see a little practice game while you were here. you say ‘yes’.

osamu can’t help but look over his shoulder at you every time a point is scored and he gets to catch his breath. one of the last times he does that, you’re already looking at him and wave a little. for a moment, he forgets everything and he waves back too but he doesn’t hear the whistle blow. he does, however, feel the volleyball hit the side if his head.

“hah!” atsumu laughs out loud from the front line. he watches his brother fall back with a red mark on his cheek. “pay attention, dumbass!”

“shut up, fleabag!” osamu groans from the floor. the game stops and everyone crowds around him.

“okay, let’s just get him up ‘n get a sub,” aran says as they lift the guy up from his feet. they walk him over towards you. “l/n, can you please look after him? make sure sure he doesn’t sleep.”

“o—oh, yes, okay…” you mutter back as osamu holds the side if his face and slumps beside you. he furrows his brows and looks away from you. “are you okay? you were doing pretty well.”

“yeah? betcha’ didn’t even notice with yer’ loverboy showin’ off his muscles for ya’.” he grumbles out.

“can we talk about this morning, ‘samu?” you plead, “it was a huge misunderstanding.”

“yeah, it was.” he says back to you.

you go quiet and look back to the practice game. the whistle blows, spikes are hit and points are won. you’ve begun to lose interest after what osamu had said to you. admittedly, he feels a little bad for being so rude to you, but he doesn’t go on.

deciding to not embarrass you more, you hop off the stage and grab your bag before you walk to the exit. osamu watches carefully at how you clench your fists at your side and you ignore how suna calls your name.

the practice goes on like normal and osamu joins the game soon after you leave. when training ends, atsumu smiles at his brother and walks beside him on the way home.

“so, how’d it go?” he chirps, “did y/n talk to ya’?”

“i didn’t wanna’ hear it,” osamu retorts as he trudges through, “it—”

“what? ‘samu, you idiot!” atsumu groans as he wipes his face, “y/n likes ya’, and messed up the confession by puttin’ it in my locker. i went to reject ‘em but i found out and told ‘em to tell you the truth.”

osamu stops as stares at his brother in disbelief.

“yeah, look at yer’ dumb fuckin’ face now!” atsumu shouts as he points an accusatory finger at osamu, “you two, i swear to god…”

“i—i’ll be right back, meet ya’ at home, ‘tsumu!” osamu shouts loudly as he begins running.

he knocks at your door ten minutes later, frantically waiting for you to answer. he’s huffing and puffing with his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck.

when you open the door, in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair undone, he holds his breath.

“osamu? what’re you doing here?” you ask him.

“i really like ya’ and i wanna’ take ya’ out on a date,” he blurts out without letting you explain. his exhales turn into puffs of cold smoke while he stands outside. your face begins to freeze just by opening the door. “i’m sorry for bein’ a dumbass n’ not listenin’ to you. atsumu told me everything and—”

you take his freezing hand and pull him inside and close the door behind the both of you. osamu shuts up as you press your warm hands to his face.

“god, you’re shivering, ‘samu,” you point out. you drag him to the kitchen and grab your blanket from the couch. wrapping him up, you heat the kettle. “i’ll make you some tea.”

he lets out a small hum in thanks. now he’s embarrassed to say anything.

“it’s okay, osamu,” you tell him, “i get why you’d be so upset. but i really wanted to confess to you… i’m sorry too. do you think we could—”

as you turn around to him, osamu is already making his way to you. he presses a kiss to your lips as he wraps the blanket around the both of you. your hands find his waist and you tug him closer as you melt against him. osamu, ever the inexperienced, is much too eager for a taste of you. he is a bit of a messy kisser, but once you reach a hand up to hold his cheek and guide him, he’s found his groove.

you were a good kisser. he wonders if you’ve thought about kissing him as much as he’s done to you.

when you pull away, he’s as red as a tomato.

“you better.” you chuckle as you kiss where he was spiked in the face.

“i’ll go out with you, ‘samu.” you say softly to him.

“thank you,” he replies, “i promise i’ll treat ya’ well.”

his phone begins to ring. pulling away, osamu sees his brother’s name pop up on his screen.

“GET BACK HERE N’ GIVE ME THE KEY, OSAMU!” atsumu begins to yell at osamu, “IF YER’ DONE MAKIN’ OUT WITH Y/N, I WANNA’ GET INSIDE N’ OUT OF THE COLD ALREADY! IF YER’ NOT HERE IN TEN MINUTES I’LL KILL YA’!”

“okay, okay, ‘m sorry,” he quiets down, “say ‘hi’ to y/n.”

“hey, y/n,” atsumu says to you.

“hi, ‘tsumu.”

“get yer’ boyfriend over here before i freeze my tits off, ya’ hear?”

“okay, ‘tsumu.”

he hangs up without another word. osamu takes off your blanket and folds it on the couch as you turn off the kettle.

“‘m sorry, i forgot to give him the key.”

“it’s okay, ‘samu, just make sure you two get warmed up,” you retort. you walk him to your door and even holds him hands, bring them to your lips and try to heat them up. “i’d hate for you to be sick on our first date.”

“right…” he whispers out. you smile at him.

“get home safe.” you say to osamu after you lean up and kiss his cheek. he nods at you before walking off in the direction of his home.

he’s got some dumb smile on his face once he reaches his house. atsumu, however, is squatting down by the door with his scarf wrapped around his face and his hands tucked under his pits. he’s red with annoyance.

“‘bout fuckin’ time, asshole,” he grumbles out as osamu pulls out the keys from his pocket, “ya’ tell me to leave my keys at home but forget to gimme’ yer’ set. in the dead of winter. look at ya’, you’re smilin’ like it’s nothin’!”

osamu opens the door and allows atsumu inside first.

“me n’ y/n are goin’ on a date.” he tells his brother.

“oh, is that what you were ‘bout to sacrifice yer’ brother for?” atsumu grumbles out as he sets the heater on a warm temperature, “finally you two are together.”

osamu smiles to himself as he heads to his room. you have lovely handwriting, now that he thinks about it.

[jjunberry]

wrong address

pairing! park sunghoon x reader

genre! angst with a happy ending

synopsis! part two to return to sender. just as y/n seems to move on sunghoon manages to steal her heart…again.

wc! 2.8k

the last few months of school were painfully embarrassing for you. not that anyone brought up the letters but you did share classes with a few of the boys who got one. jake, taehyun.. you never really got to properly talk about the letters with them but they understood. it was just a silly crush, nothing serious. you never met for those letters to see the light of day. the one person who’s letter actually did mean something wanted nothing to do with you. sunghoon, he ignored you at all costs even moved his seat. he truly met what he said to you.

when school finally let out for summer, you couldn’t wait to get away. away from the letters, away from sunghoon. or so you thought. that was until you got a summer job at the local ice cream shop. your first day on the job he walked in. park sunghoon walked in. his eyes landed on yours. before he could say anything to you the owner came from the back smiling widely. “oh sunghoon my dear i’m so happy to see you again.” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

‘’oh y/nie this is my nephew sunghoon he’s spent the last three summers here, he’ll be the one to train you!” you swear your heart dropped to your feet. he faked a smile for his aunt and as soon as she left the smile was replaced with a scowl. he quietly placed his apron on and started preparing cones. “look sunghoon i know i’m the last person you want to be working with, but i’d appreciate it if you’d try to work with me.” he let out a long sigh. his back muscles clenched. you could practically feel the tension in his shoulders.

“y/n you’re the last person i wanted to see here.” he spit. your heart ached just like the day he rejected you. “well i’m sorry to intrude on your summer job, but i need to save money for college so i’m not going anywhere.” he rolled his eyes. the two of you worked in awkward silence. this was how you spent most of your days.working together in silence.

after a few weeks you swear you felt him warming up to you. even after his rejection you still yearned to just be his friend. the shop was busy today. sunghoon and yourself was busy giving out cones and sundaes. You wasn’t aware of the ice cream on the floor until you slipped on it. a strong pair of arms grabbed your waist. your eyes met sunghoon’s and you swear your heart was beating out of your chest. you couldn’t tell if it was from his closeness or the fear of almost falling.

‘’you need to be more careful.” he said before returning to his task. you swore your heart beat never slowed down. when closing time finally rolled around you were more than ready to leave. you were putting away the washed ice cream scoopers when you felt him behind you. “here you forgot these.” he handed you two more scoopers. “oh thanks.” you mumbled. he nodded and put away the rest of the dishes.

the both of you hung up your aprons before leaving. he locked the door. “it’s late, do you need a ride home?” he asked, turning to you.smiling you nodded. “yeah that would be nice.” he nodded and you followed him to his car. you would have given him your address but he seemed to have known already. then it hit you, he remembered because of your letter. he pulled up to your house in silence and watched as you got out. “thank you.” you said.

“no problem i’ll see you tomorrow.” he said. you watched him pull away and you turned to your house. you grabbed the forgotten mail and shifted through it. bills, spam mail, but one envelope stood out to you. it was addressed to you. from your old middle school crush, jay park. he was your last crush before sunghoon. you traced the handwriting on the front. kicking off your shoes you took off to your room.

you used a paper cutter to open the letter. inside it was written on some plain notebook paper. the handwriting was sort of messy but eligible.

dearest, y/n

i have to say i was surprised to get your letter. i wanted to say of course i remember the time at the park whenever you fell off the swing and i patched up your scraped knees. you were crying and i gave you a band-aid. your smile that day was one i couldn’t forget. i remember thinking how i only ever wanted to see you smile. of course that was then. i’m glad you sent this letter out. i’m not too sure i was supposed to ever read the words you wrote, but i’m thankful.

i hope this letter finds you well. i hope that someday soon our paths will cross again, and if needed i’ll always have a band-aid in my pocket.

yours, jay

holding the letter to your chest you fell backwards onto your bed. your eyes closed the memories of that day in the park flooded your head. then your eyes snapped open. you have to write him back. but what would you say? a million different things to say raced through your mind all at once.

when your alarm for work went off you were already up piles of crumpled paper next to you. letting out a sigh you got dressed and did a light make up. when she arrived sunghoon was already inside setting up for the day. “hey y/n.” he greeted with a smile. it made your heart flutter. “hi.” you grabbed your apron and joined him behind the counter.

“so i was wondering something.” he said. his voice was distant because he was in the back room. “yeah?” you asked. he came from the back holding pints of ice cream. you grabbed one placing it on the counter. “there’s this small bonfire tonight, i was wondering if you’d want to come?” he asked. you smiled. “i’d love too!” he nodded. “yeah uh cool, i’ll pick you up later.”

the shop was having a slow day so you worked the register and sunghoon handled the ice cream. you were writing a reply to jay on a napkin from the store.

dear jay,

i was so delighted to receive your letter. i was surprised you wrote back but i’m glad you reached out. it was nice to hear from you after all this time. i also wish that our paths cross again as it would be nice to see you. i have to say i miss seeing you everyday at school but i hope life is treating you well. until i see you again.

yours, y/n

sunghoon stood behind you glaring at your words on the napkin. his chest felt tight. some other guy had the courage to say what he couldn’t and you were replying. he clenched his fist and slammed down an ice cream container, causing you to jump and turn to him. you could practically feel his anger radiating off of him. you didn’t understand because he was just fine moments ago.

“sunghoon are you okay?” you asked. his jaw was clenched. “i’m fine.” came his short reply. you didn’t push the subject but the rest of the day was full of short replies and the cold shoulder. you hoped that whatever was bothering him stopped before later or it would be one awkward night. when you got home you showered and dressed casually. you didn’t want to over dress but you also wanted to put in some effort, since he’d be there. you really felt that his feelings toward you were improving, and well you still had a small crush on the boy.

once you were dressed and ready you waited, and waited and waited. after an hour it became clear that he wasn’t coming. you sat on your porch stairs trying to keep in tears. you should have known, but with how nice he’s been you were hoping he would show up anyway. with a heavy heart you went inside and locked the door. you cried yourself to sleep that night.

the next day you made it to work before sunghoon which was rare. he must of been out late. you sighed and began the prep to open the store. sunghoon came in about twenty minutes later. he looked tired and he didn’t say anything at first.”how was the bonfire?” you asked. he was quiet. “i wouldn’t know, i didn’t go.” he said. you faced him. “you could have said something.” he rolled his eyes. “it doesn’t matter y/n. let’s just get to work.”

during your break you sealed your reply to jay and addressed the envelope. you planned to mail it after work. you left the letter in your locker and returned to your spot behind the counter, relieving sunghoon for his break. sunghoon opened your locker by mistake and noticed the envelope. a frown took over his face and he grabbed the letter. he couldn’t help himself.

he changed the address so the letter would never reach the boy. sunghoon couldn’t stand the idea of you with someone that wasn’t him. if tampering your letter meant getting another chance with you then that’s what he’d do, and he did. sunghoon placed the letter back in your locker before joining you behind the counter.

after work you dropped the letter off at the post office before heading home. you were excited for jay to receive the letter. it was nice to talk to him again.

it had been a week since you mailed the letter, you had gotten nothing back from jay. at first you were a little upset but soon you forgot about even mailing it in the first place. it was a busy day at the shop but you and sunghoon had gotten used to it. you were cleaning up the counter when the bell above the door rang. you looked up and your jaw dropped. there he stood, jay park. your old middle school crush. his eyes scanned the room before they landed on you. he smiled and made his way over to you. “y/n.” he said. you stared at him. “jay, hi.” the name caught sunghoon’s attention. he stood back watching you.

“what, what are you doing here?” you asked. he smiled. “well when you never replied to my letter i decided to come see you, i went to your house and your mom said you’d be here.” you stared at him. never replied? impossible you spent so long thinking of what to say. “i did send you a letter back.” he shrugged. “must of been the wrong address, that’s okay i’m here now.” he smiled. you smiled back.

sunghoon cleared his throat effectively catching your attention. he had an unreadable look on his face. it was a cross between anger and some other emotion you couldn’t put your finger on. “uh jay this is sunghoon, sunghoon this is jay.” you said. “Hey.” jay said. all sunghoon did was nod his head. the bell rang with more customers. “look man we are busy if you could order something that would be nice if not then leave.” sunghoon said with venom in his tone.

jay stared back before putting his hands up. “i’m good man, just wanted to see an old friend.” he backed away. “well you’ve seen them now you can leave.” you’re eyes went wide. who did he think he was? “right, anyway see you y/n.” jay waved before leaving. sunghoon ignored your stare as he tended to the customers that walked in. he proceeded to act like nothing happened for the rest of the day.

when it was finally time to close, you decided it was time to confront him. “sunghoon what the hell was that earlier?” you asked. “he was holding up the line.” he replied. you let out a bitter laugh. “no that's not what i mean and you know it.” he sighed. “he was trying to get you back, i had to do something.” he said his eyes glued to his feet. “sunghoon what the hell are you talking about, i haven’t seen him since middle school.” he scoffed. “save it i seen the letter, i mean seriously?” he was pacing now.

“so what if i was sending letters to jay, you have no right to be angry right now.” you were getting angry now. how dare he after all he’s said. “i am angry, i’m jealous.” you furrowed your eyebrows. “jealous?” you asked. he tugged at his hair. “yes! i’m jealous because he had the courage to do what i couldn’t.” he snapped. you felt the tears well in your eyes. “and what was that?” you asked with a shaky voice. “to tell you how i feel about you. god y/n i like you so much.” you swear your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

“well you sure have a funny way of showing it.” you spat. “remember you said you don’t want to date me, you never will.” you threw his words back at him. the ones that played in the back of your mind each time you looked at him and felt your heart flutter. it was a painful reminder of that day he threw your letter and heart on the ground and crushed it. “y/n.” he started but you put your hand up.

“don’t sunghoon.” you couldn’t hear anything else. you gathered your bag and walked towards the door. his hand wrapped around your wrist. “y/n please let me explain.” his voice is now shaky. you stared at where he held you. “i was scared when i read your letter, no one has ever felt that way about me before, and my friend were laughing at me. i didn’t mean to hurt you but so many emotions were happening it once, so i took the cheap way out.”

you scoffed and shook off his hold. “now that’s pathetic.” you spit his words back at him once again before leaving. sunghoon tugged at his hair. he hated watching you walk away from him again crying. he hated hurting you, but that’s all he ever seemed to do. there was only one thing he could do. he grabbed a pen and paper.

my dearest, y/n

i’ve never really done this before. i didn’t really know how else to say this. everytime i open my mouth i always seem to hurt you. so i figured i’d give this a try. y/n i like you. i like whenever our fingers brushed against each other in class passing papers. i like when you always greet me with a smile even though i’ve been shitty to you. i like that you make me smile with your cute laugh. i like the way you dress, the way you are always you.

i hate what i said to you that day. truthfully your words scared me because no one has ever cared for me that way before. i hope that i didn’t ruin everything between us, and that it’s not to late, because if you’d let me i’d really like to take you on a date, and make you mine.

always yours, sunghoon

your tears fell onto the paper, your neighbor had dropped it off after it ended up in her mail. the mailman had the wrong address.it had been a few days since you been to the ice cream shop. you slipped on your shoes and ran there. the letter still in your grasp. sunghoon was locking the door when you ran up. he turned to see you out of breath with teary eyes. his eyes drifted to the letter in your hand. he was starting to think you got it but threw it out.

“y/n..” he began but you cut him off by placing your lips on his. sunghoon’s eyes were wide before they closed and he kissed you back. his arms gripped your hips and your arms wrapped around his neck. when you pulled away he chased your lips causing you to giggle and placed your forehead against his.

“does this mean i get to take you on that date?” he whispered. you smiled and nodded. “i’d like that more than anything.” he smiled and pulled you closer by your waist. he titled your chin up and placed his lips on yours. “p.s i still like you.” he smiled. “good, it would be one awkward date if you didn’t.” you laughed and followed him to his car. you weren’t expecting your summer to go this way but one thing was for sure, you were glad to get that letter, it gave you sunghoon.

-

author’s note! the long awaited second part. i hope you all enjoyed it :)

tag list! @jjunieworld @304files

© jjunberry

[scoops-aboy86]

By The Heart (Secret Admirer pt 2)

Steddie Week 2024, July 2: Hands / touch starved / Invisible Touch by Genesis

wc: 2136 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

After the world fell apart a second time in November of ‘84, Steve had finished out the rest of his senior year in a daze. Partly because Billy Hargrove had broken a fucking plate over his head, giving him a small scar by his hairline that the doctor said would fade and recurring headaches that the doctor said might stick around anywhere from a few months to forever. 

It’s been more than a few months and the headaches are only slightly less frequent and a tiny bit less severe. 

He graduated, barely. His dad keeps dropping pointed comments about how his parents let him stay in their house rent-free after high school, how he’d saved up while attending a nearby college by not having to worry about the cost of a dorm or basic meals, and that it is his gratitude towards them that has moved him to offer the same to Steve. Usually said comments come after Steve tries to sidestep some sort of menial task, and it always feels like a threat.Steve just grits his teeth and takes it—refills his dad’s drink when the bottle is already literally right by the man’s hand, washes the family car after dinner when both his parents know that Steve has a shift at Scoops first thing in the morning, whatever. He can’t afford to get kicked out right now. 

His job at Scoops Ahoy is shit, all bright fluorescent lights and kids screaming and everything getting sticky for a measly minimum wage, but that probably reflects the quality of the job application he’d submitted. 

He has no friends, no prospects, no one in his corner except a bunch of incoming freshmen and the only one who really seems to want him around is off at some sort of smart people camp that he’d never even heard of… Go figure. 

But he has Secret Admirer. 

Okay, what Steve has is a pen pal who has a PO box and prefers to remain anonymous, possibly because Steve is an embarrassing person to have a crush on these days. And it’s really stupid that he thinks of them as first name Secret, last name Admirer, but it’s not like he hasn’t tried to come up with better names! Unfortunately, there are so many things Secret Admirer has called him (sweetheart, darling, dearest, honey, baby) that he can’t really think of anything original with those constantly rotating in his head… He can’t use them, though. It’d be weird. 

The first letter had been shoved into his locker in the last few weeks of school, looking like someone either wrote it with their non-dominant hand or had also suffered a blow to the head recently, and he hadn’t known what to make of it at first. In fact, he’d considered the possibility that Tommy or Billy were playing some sort of prank on him… but he didn’t think either of them could write “To Steve, the heart of my heart” without bursting into homophobic flames, and if it was Carol she would’ve done her girliest handwriting with hearts dotting the eyes. And his Secret Admirer had mentioned things no one else in his life seemed to care about. 

Like, 

I hope you’re feeling better. Sometimes I notice you squinting or grimacing in the classes we have in common… Are you still getting headaches? Do you get enough rest? You probably already know this, but mental and physical rest are super important for getting your handsome self all recovered, big boy. 

And,

I had a concussion once, not a bad one but it really left an impression. Felt like I was trying to think through a head full of soup for weeks. It sucks that teachers didn’t seem to cut you much slack because, just saying, I noticed they used to do that a lot more when you were still on the basketball and swim teams. Jock privilege placed above consideration of an actual, serious injury? I’m sorry, but that’s the rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril, sweetheart, and you deserve better. 

So, yeah. Clearly his Secret Admirer is a nerd who doesn’t necessarily have the best opinion of jocks… but still took the time to notice all those things and write kindly about them. It felt nice, knowing that at least one person out there noticed, maybe even cared. 

And when that letter turned out not to be a one-off, a few more letters in his locker and then one in his mailbox, postmarked and everything, after graduation? Steve was hooked, enough to start writing self-consciously back. 

Which has brought him to the point of wanting so badly to meet this person that he’s stooped to begging, and it’s not even getting him anywhere. 

It’s occurred to him that it could be a guy, of course it has. Steve might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knows it happens. He’d had a friend in middle school, Todd Fischer, nice guy, totally normal kid—got caught kissing some boy in the next grade up behind the gym and turned out to be the worst sprinter of the two. The Fischers had moved out of Hawkins a few weeks later and Steve hadn’t heard anything from or about Todd since. They’d been halfway through reading Romeo & Juliet in English at the time, and Steve remembers thinking when they got to the end of the play that at least things hadn’t gone that badly for Todd and whoever the other kid was. He’s old enough now to know that it could have; between Todd being such a nice kid, Barb dying in his own backyard, and the threat of government agents coming out of the woodwork if he ever breathes a word about certain secrets, the thought leaves a bad taste in Steve’s mouth. 

Anyway, if it is a guy, that would explain why Secret Admirer keeps dancing around his pleas to meet. And the initially disguised handwriting—which had been dropped by the second mailed letter, along with a brief, sheepish apology. 

But it could also be a girl who’s really shy or something. Steve doesn’t want to assume and then look like a total idiot further down the road. Whoever it is, all Steve knows is that he doesn’t want to lose them. He has to play this smart, play it cool… because he knows himself, and already knows that they have him by the heart based on words alone. 

The latest letter is in his hands, crinkled a little at the edges, and Steve can’t help himself from rereading the fifth paragraph yet again. 

… those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off…

He’s not scared off. Doesn’t need to know exactly who put pen to paper to imagine hands and lips running up his legs, either, an invisible touch that sends shivers along his spine. 

Okay, maybe it’s been a while. Between striking out from behind the Scoops counter and not really trying all that hard anyway, the only action Steve’s seen is from his own hand… and this letter. He has thoughts, alright, but has a much better idea of how to translate them into action than words. And this is his problem with the whole pen pal only thing, his natural charm (if he has any left) is absolutely useless in this medium. 

The other problem is that he really, really wants to jerk off about this, except he’s got almost no details to fuel the fantasy. He knows that Secret Admirer had a concussion once, but not what color or length or texture or style their hair is; knows they’re on the fringes of popularity and not really into sports, but nothing about their height or build or how they might move against him. Hell, he doesn’t even know if they’re a girl or a guy, isn’t sure if he should try to imagine boobies and painted nails or stubbled cheeks and big hands. 

Secret Admirer has mentioned being a smoker though, of both tobacco and grass, and Steve is not exactly proud of how strongly this makes him want a cigarette just because it’s all he has to go on. He has work in under an hour and Robin hates the smell of cigarettes, will be extra vicious for their entire shift if he comes in reeking of smoke. 

He’ll have to figure out something else…

Dear Secret Admirer, Thanks for writing again, I was really glad to get your letter. I don’t sleep with them under my pillow because sometimes my pillow ends up on the floor and I don’t want to drool all over them. I keep them in a box in the back of my closet, because sometimes my parents have the cleaning lady do my bedroom without telling me and I don’t want her going through my stuff or putting it in weird places that I can never find again.  Sorry for laughing at you You must not have seen me last week when I threw a banana peel at my coworker for It’s not being humble if I don’t deserve Yeah, fuck high school.  Sorry for not rewriting this, I’m running out of paper and my dad’ll kill me if I break into his office to get more I definitely thought about what you said in your last letter. I thought about it a lot. It’s hard to figure out how to explain what though, because I wanted to picture you like you were probably picturing me when you were writing it. You obviously know what I look like, but I don’t know who you are so I had to get creative. (Which isn’t my strong suit. So if this is stupid maybe we could just never mention it again?) Since I don’t know what you look like and it’d be weird to try and picture you anyway, and then what if I’m not even close and that makes it seem like I don’t like you for who you are? I’m not sure if that makes sense. But anyway, since I don’t know what you look like I pictured you dressed like a ninja.  Hear me out, okay? You’re such a mystery. Ninjas are mysterious, and dressed all black to blend in with the shadows. You can’t see their hair or face and they wear gloves because you can tell a lot about a person by their hands. I guess what I’m saying is I imagined you sneaking into my room at night when the lights are off. Totally silent but with this powerful presence, you know? I think if I were in the same room as you it’d feel like that moment right before the whistle goes off at a swim meet, because that’s just like, holy shit it’s about to happen and your muscles are all tense but ready but you’re waiting, coiled like a snake. So I’m coiled like a snake and you’re still a ninja and I’m not very good at this. I’ve done it over the phone a few times but that’s different. I don’t know where I’m going with this just sitting writing this alone in my room with Genesis playing in the background so I’m going to stop. Just trust me, it was hot. If you ever want to exchange numbers I’d be happy to tell you all about it sometime.  It feels weird to end like that, so I’ll also tell you that I tried reading that Hobbit book you suggested and you were right, it’s a lot easier than the Rings book that the kids I babysit tried to bully me into reading. Bibo is freaking out about all these dwarves in his house and I can relate, it sounds like when those kids all show up and try to rope me into driving them around town. At least they haven’t tried to make me steal anything or try to take on a damn dragon yet. Hopefully this book won’t give them any ideas.  — Steve PS If that was so dumb you changed your mind about still writing to me, please let me down easy. Seriously it would be no hard feelings. At least I still have a great ass and great hair, so I’ve got that going for me.

Tag list (open): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @thetinymm

@practicallybegging @fuzzyduxk @greatwerewolfbeliever

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 7/12)

AHHH HERE SHE IS, i hope you enjoyyy hehe <3

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18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you and eddie are back to square one...maybe

contains: enemies to lovers trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, some jealous!eddie, brotherhood, mentions of eddie's dad being shitty, mentions of a sick family member (reader's grandfather), flirting, and eddie being a sorry mf <3

word count: 4.2k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie very rarely finds the time to go to the studio by himself.

With the busy lifestyle he’s now adopted, he mostly gets his writing done on the road or when he can’t sleep. And Eddie can’t sleep tonight. He doesn’t want to sleep tonight. He can’t seem to find it in himself to give his body and mind the few hours of rest they plead for because Eddie— Eddie fucked up.

The studio is quiet— because nobody in their right mind comes to a recording studio at three in the morning— and Eddie begins to wonder why he even came here if he can’t write a single lyric. Every line that crosses his mind is too little, too much, too mundane— it’s all wrong. Everything is wrong, and Eddie wants to scream.

Eddie takes another hit of the burning cigarette, rubs his eyes in exhaustion, and places his used journal to the side in exchange for his guitar.

He sits on the couch, the quiet room filling out the whirlwind of unsaid words in Eddie’s mind. He strums a soft tune on the wooden instrument, eyes closed and legs propped up on the coffee table. It takes Eddie a few moments to open his eyes when he hears the door open, and he has to blink a few times to clear the fog of fatigue from his eyes. 

And Eddie doesn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes and scoff at the sight of Gareth.

He keeps the cigarette between his lips and goes back to plucking his guitar strings, ignoring the shuffling sound of Gareth walking over.

Gareth is quiet for a long time until he clears his throat, “This is good.”

Eddie opens his eyes again and glances over at the brown-haired boy. Eddie’s face pinches in confusion before Gareth raises the journal, and Eddie huffs out a laugh. “No, it’s not.”

Gareth shakes his head, “No, it really is. I like this line,” he points to Eddie’s messy handwriting. 

“It’s not going anywhere. I’ve been here for almost two hours.” Eddie brushes it off. 

Eddie resumes his peaceful strumming, and Gareth— Gareth just can’t let it go. Because he misses his best friend more than anything in the fucking world, and it hurts. This hurts. The quiet and the unsaid— it hurts.

“I’m sorry.”

And Eddie thinks, fuck, not now.

“Man—” “No, Eddie I… I fucked up.” And Eddie glances at Gareth because Gareth sounds… Gareth sounds like he’s on the verge of something, something that Eddie has rarely seen from his friend.

“I really fucked up, man. And you don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want you thinking I don’t regret it— because I do.” Gareth looks at Eddie. Clear eyes, so wide and full of what Eddie can only imagine to be sorrow. “I should’ve never done that to you, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have told her— especially because I hadn’t told you.”

And Eddie is so tired of being angry. He’s so tired of feeling the gaping and missing piece of his best friend— and sure, he wishes Gareth never went behind his back and fucked his ex, but he mostly just wishes things would return to normal.

Eddie is silent for a moment, and Gareth almost takes it as an answer, but Eddie finally says, “Did you really love her?”

If Gareth is shocked, he does an excellent job of not showing it. He only swallows and shifts in his seat, “I thought I did… I don’t know, maybe?”

He’s being careful, Eddie knows, and he can’t blame him for it.

“Do you still talk?” Eddie can’t help but ask because he needs to know. He needs to know so he can prepare himself for whatever bullshit he’ll go through later if he ever sees Chrissy again.

To Eddie’s relief, Gareth shakes his head, “No. Not since… no.”

Eddie nods and says nothing else while mindlessly playing his soft tune.

Gareth shifts beside him, glances down at the journal in his hands, and hums, “So… you gonna tell me who this is about?”

Eddie jokingly glares at Gareth and leans forward to set his guitar down. “S’nothing.”

“That’s a lie.” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow at his friend, and Gareth takes a deep breath. “Look, man,” he places the journal down, “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And Jeff said he saw you—” “That motherfucker.” Gareth softly laughs but shrugs either way.

Eddie drags a hand over his face and sighs, “I don’t know, it’s… complicated.”

Gareth hums, like he doesn’t believe Eddie, “All I’m saying is if you like her as much as I think you do,” he gestures to the journal, “Then you better act quick.”

And Eddie knows Gareth is right— which is annoying, but he thinks he needs to hear it now more than ever. 

Eddie’s not sure when he closed his eyes and dozed off, but by the time he opened them, it was the next day, and Jeff was standing over him with a sly grin. Eddie’s face is twisted in morning confusion and annoyance at Jeff’s proximity, and something heavy is leaning on his side and— “I see you and Gare-bear have made up.” Jeff tips his head to the right of Eddie, and Eddie glances over to where he’s motioned to find Gareth fast asleep with his body leaned against Eddie’s side.

Eddie groans and grimaces as he turns his head, a painful pinch resting at the top of his spine as he shoves his hand against Gareth’s shoulder, voice dry and scratchy from sleep as he speaks, “Shut the fuck up.” 

Eddie’s arm tingles under the weight of Gareth, and he grunts, pushing harder at his shoulder, “Gareth, get off me, man; I can’t feel my fucking arm,” Eddie grumbles, shoving the boy off of him, grimacing when Gareth grunts in protest. 

Jeff snickers and looks around the room; sheets of paper are scattered across the coffee table, empty beer bottles are strewn on the floor, and a guitar with a busted string lies on the other couch. “Jesus, did I miss the party?” Jeff teases, kicking at an empty beer can as he walks over to the sheet of music on the soundboard, picking it up and glancing over the words.

“What’s this?” Jeff wonders aloud. Gareth opens an eye to see what Jeff is talking about and shifts in his seat as he answers, “Eddie’s apology to the journalist.”

Eddie wipes drool from his mouth as he sits up, leaning over to sift through the rubble for his pack of cigarettes, “Birdie.” He mumbles as he shoves a stick between his lips and lights the end. “Yeah, Birdie.” Gareth sleepily mumbles.

Jeff laughs as he reads over the half-assed written letter. “How drunk were you two shitheads?” He wonders, eyebrows raising at one particular sentence. “And what’d you do that made you finally realize you’re an asshole?” 

And Eddie thinks Jeff is asking a lot of questions right now, and Eddie doesn’t have the mental capacity to digest any of them. Gareth snickers beside Eddie, shaking his head with a shrug, moving through Eddie’s cloud of smoke to reach for a beer can, shaking it to see if there’s any drink left before sipping on whatever's there before speaking, “What didn’t he do?” He jokes.

Eddie kicks his heel into the brown-haired boy’s shin, ignoring the spew of curses Gareth sends his way. Jeff tosses the paper back onto the soundboard and turns to the two boys, “Does this have anything to do with her trying to drop the article?”

Gareth shrugs, uninterested in whatever Jeff is insinuating, but the question seems to wake Eddie up quicker than the slow-burning stick between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

Jeff looks at Eddie as if he’s asked him what two plus two is, “You don’t know?”

Eddie tilts his head, a confused look on his face, irritation lingering on his tone, “Know what, Jeff?”

Jeff’s eyebrows raise, and he lifts his hands in surrender, “Look, Naomi and Birdie were talking at breakfast, and she told Naomi that she’s thinking of dropping the article.” “What do you mean dropping the article, Jeff?”

Jeff gazes at Eddie like he’s lost his mind, “Honestly, man, I don’t know why you’re freaking out when this is literally what you wanted ever since she came along.” He points out, calmly sitting in the desk chair by the soundboard. “I mean, yeah,” Eddie stresses, “But that was before— fuck,” Eddie rubs a hand over his face as he plops back into the plush couch with a heavy sigh. “Before?” Jeff wonders aloud.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie snaps.

Gareth snickers again, glancing at Eddie’s depleted state before glaring at Jeff, “Before Eddie fell in love.” He childishly giggles. Eddie glares at his friend, finally finding his shoes and hastily shoving them on, “I’m not in love with her, you fucking idiot,” He swats at Gareth, “I just…” Eddie glances between his two friends before sighing, rubbing his hands over his face again and resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Didn’t seem that complicated when I walked in on you two.” Jeff points out, to which Gareth’s jaw drops as he turns to Eddie, “No fucking way. You boned the journalist?—” “Birdie.” “—And Jeff walked in on it? You didn’t tell me that last night!” He exclaims.

Eddie grimaces at Gareth’s words and the fact that he won’t just say your name because, for some weird and obnoxious reason, it pisses Eddie off. “Because it wasn’t like that.” Eddie shakes his head. Jeff makes a face, and Eddie rolls his eyes, “It wasn’t,” Eddie repeats, “Not that it’s any of you fucking losers' business.”

Eddie tries so hard not to seem distracted when they start working on their last song of the album. He tries to put his entire mind, body, and soul into the words and the chorus, but he can’t. Eddie’s mind is somewhere else, wasting away trying to find a way to say sorry and get you to change your mind about abandoning your project because, sure, Eddie’s an asshole when he wants to be, but he has some inkling of remorse and human feelings. He has the ability to feel sorry and know when he’s crossed a line, and clearly, Eddie is far beyond the line. 

Eddie’s stomach churns when he thinks about the last night: the look on your face and the tone of your voice, the unmistakable sniffle as you wiped away a stray tear. And Eddie really is a jackass, isn’t he?

Making a kind girl like you cry, telling her she’s ruined everything when all she’s done is stay true to her task. It’s Eddie who’s led you astray, who’s tempted you and poked and prodded until you cracked— and, god, Eddie feels sick to his stomach.

Eddie remembers how that feels. To be pushed and shoved to your breaking point, to where someone breaks you down to the point of giving up. Eddie knows that feeling so well; he dealt with it for so long as a kid before Wayne took him in. Eddie remembers how useless he would feel, how his father would tell him he was stupid and naive for thinking he could be something. And it’s difficult to ignore those harsh words when it’s repeated over and over in your ear, and Eddie can’t believe he let himself do that to you.

Eddie’s kind of frantic when he walks up to you at rehearsals.

He’s fidgety, and he’s aching for a cigarette, and his heart is racing in his chest because Eddie’s not the best at apologies, but he’s also not very fond of the idea of you not being here anymore. As much as Eddie hates to admit it, he likes you being here— because watching you, hearing you, and seeing how you move about a room is addicting. It’s a movie, a show that gets better with every episode, and Eddie has tried so hard to lie and say he can’t stand the show, but fuck, he’s hooked.

You look tired today, uncharacteristically quiet and reserved, making Eddie all the more nervous to break the slight trance you seem to be in. Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him when he approaches you in the backstage hallway, “Can we uh— can we talk?”

You don’t seem eager when he asks, and you don’t sound it either when your eyebrows furrow in distress, and you shake your head, “Honestly, Eddie, I’m not in the mood—” Eddie shakes his head, tone sincere and eyes holding no trace of mischief, “No, I promise it’s not…” Eddie trails off, and you raise your eyebrow, growing impatient with his hesitance.

“It’s about the magazine.” He rushes out. You look confused and unconvinced— and there’s so much going on in the background; staff calling out demands, crew members scrambling to get things done, and Eddie just can’t fucking think. “Well, it’s about you, but it’s also about the magazine— can we step outside?”

Eddie looks away in embarrassment because Eddie doesn’t get flustered very easily these days— there’s not much to get flustered over when you’ve seen it all— but again, Eddie doesn’t do this often— and his neck is heating up, and he knows his cheeks are turning an embarrassing shade of red because you’re looking at him like he’s the biggest idiot known to man.

Eddie drags in a steady breath, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and he grumbles lowly enough for you to hear, thumb brushing the tip of his nose once before speaking, “Come on, don’t make me beg.”

You scoff at that, arms crossing over your chest as you push past him and storm towards the exit, and Eddie follows with a shaky breath.

When Eddie steps out into the alleyway of the venue, you’re leaning against the wall with a deep frown etched across your lips, and Eddie’s fingers twitch for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. You glare at him, “What’s wrong with you?” You snap. Eddie looks at you silently for a moment, confusion written across his face as he speaks, “Huh?”

You glare as you speak, “You’re being weird.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and clears his throat, shifting on his feet before he starts, “Listen, I uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I know we don’t get along and shit but just…” Eddie ignores it when you roll your eyes, “Don’t drop the magazine because of me.”

You’re silent then, for much longer than Eddie would like you to be, and Eddie is thoroughly confused when you scoff, “Excuse me?”

Eddie stuffs his hands in his pockets and glances around the empty alleyway, “Look— believe it or not, we actually kind of need this, and the boys will fucking kill me if I screw it all up, so just… I’m sorry, okay?”

And technically, it’s the truth. It might not be the whole truth as to why Eddie has pulled you aside, but at least there’s some truth to it… right?

You don’t seem too appeased with Eddie’s half-assed apology, considering the way your face doesn't even flinch for what seems like decades. “Well, for starters, I’m not dropping out of the magazine,” and Eddie doesn’t want to unpack the reasoning behind why the tension in his shoulders eased, “And the only reason why I had even debated doing so is because my grandfather is sick, not because some douchebag artist pissed me off.” You snap.

Eddie feels like an ass.

No, he feels worse than an ass, whatever that may be. Eddie feels like he’ll maybe just go back to the hotel and sew his mouth shut because the one time that Eddie tries to fix things, his tongue flaps and spews out bullshit, and then he’s further in the ground than he was, to begin with.

Eddie’s not sure what to do or say because, honestly, he didn’t even think of the possibility that he’s not the reason for you dropping the magazine, and Eddie only then realizes how selfish of a mistake this was. “Can I be honest with you, Eddie?”

Even though you sound and look like you could stab him right now, Eddie thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. Your eyes are so alive beneath the light of day, and a gentle breeze carries your scent to wrap around Eddie in a dizzying manner. His heart races, and Eddie feels… small.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, like he’s damaged things to the point of no return, and it’s all his fault— and usually, it never actually was Eddie’s fault, but this… Eddie can wholeheartedly admit he’s at fault for the agitated look you’re giving him— and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. 

Still, Eddie nods— because what else can he do?

“I think we should keep the one-on-ones to a minimum. Better yet, let’s just stop it as a whole.”

“What?”

You take a deep breath, gaze dancing away, seemingly anxious to flee the scene as you speak, “I don’t think this is benefiting either of us— this back and forth. I have work to get done, and honestly, there’s nothing more that I need from you aside from when I interview the band as a group— and seeing as you hate me and I hate you, why don’t we just make our lives easier and stay out of each other's way?”

This isn’t how Eddie imagined things going.

Eddie imagined he would say sorry, and you would give him a pretty smile, and things would go back to… well, not normal, but perhaps something a little better than normal. This is worse than normal. This is so left field of what Eddie had imagined, and Eddie can’t bring himself to say anything.

So, instead, Eddie nods, mumbles a quick agreement, and says nothing more as you leave.

Days pass slower than usual, and you find ways to get busy outside of drafting the magazine. You take frequent walks in Central Park to clear your mind and spend many nights talking to your family over the phone.

Your grandfather is old, and it’s no surprise to the family that he’ll soon see the end of his days, but your mom immediately told you no when you said you would be coming home after getting word of his current state. You weren’t particularly close to your grandfather; you really only saw him once a year around holidays, but you felt the need to be there for your mother, to offer her a shoulder to cry on. However, your mother, ever the sweet lady she is, insisted she would be more than okay with the support of your father and younger sister and demanded that you stay in New York to finish your project.

Still, even though you called home every night, you felt the distance with each goodbye. It ached to be so far from your family at such a time, but the world won’t stop just for you, and time is of the essence in your line of work.

Despite the somewhat gloomy past days you’ve had, each show has given you a moment to breathe and take your mind off the stresses of life. There are two shows of the residency left now, and the boys of Corroded Coffin seem more pumped than ever for the two big nights.

You usually spend time before the show loitering in the green room or waiting out in the crowd, but today, you’ve chosen to have front-row tickets to the chaos that is Corroded Coffin’s dressing room.

There’s a thick fog of smoke dancing through the room; tobacco, weed, and alcohol drenching the walls with their smell as the boys and crew members share drinks and blunts and jokes. You, Jeff, Gareth, and James are gathered in front of the vanity— away from most of the chaos to enjoy light conversation— with Jeff and James sitting in the tall vanity chairs while you and Gareth stand between them both.

“I think we should play something off the new record tonight,” Jeff suggests. Gareth, who’s busy messing with his hair in the mirror, finds the time to respond, “I kind of wanted to do something old. Maybe even a cover?”

James raises an eyebrow, reaching forward onto the vanity desk for a black eyeliner pencil, “You guys are on in like fifteen, man. The stage crew is not gonna be happy about that.” James points out, inspecting the small item before popping the cap off. Gareth snickers as James attempts to apply the eyeliner, “When are they ever happy? Poor guys have to put up with our bullshit every day.”

Naomi comes to stand behind Jeff, draping her arms around his shoulders and resting her chin atop his head. Jeff smirks at her through the mirror, and she smiles, “You agree, right? We should play something new tonight?” Jeff asks his girlfriend, to which she shrugs and glances at both band members, “I don’t see why not. It’s the second to last show, and I’m sure the fans would love it.”

You look over to James as he curses to himself when the pencil tip breaks off. You snicker, not thinking twice, when you step forward to place a hand on his shoulder, “You’re pressing too hard.” You mumble as you gently grab the pencil from him. James watches as you turn to grab the pencil sharpener, shaving off the empty end of the stick until you can see the soft pencil again, “Aw, you’re gonna help me out?” He presses a hand to his chest as you roll your eyes. Whatever conversation Jeff, Gareth, and Naomi are having, you pay no mind to it anymore. “Shut up, take a seat.” You nod to the vanity chair.

James takes a seat, and you shake your head as you step forward, tipping his head back for a good angle as you say, “Remind me again how you’re an artist and still don’t know how to apply eyeliner correctly?” You mumble as you begin softly applying the makeup to his bottom lashline. James smirks, “I can’t be good at everything.” He jokes. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Just look up at the ceiling, please.”

And in the corner of your eye, you catch him— Eddie.

He’s watching you and James with the sharpest gaze you’ve ever seen— angry and daring, and it only falters when you turn to look at him. You don’t know why, but your heart seems to rise to your throat, and there is an annoying twist in your stomach when you see how his jaw ticks in anger. You don’t notice it until Eddie’s gaze flickers down, and you suddenly feel the warm heat of James' hand pressed against your waist. 

Your body heats at the attention, and you shy away from Eddie’s accusing gaze, returning to your task. Your eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as you apply the makeup, and you try desperately hard to ignore the way James is gazing up at you or the gentle squeezes he gives you when you shift. What’s even harder to ignore is the hole Eddie is burning through your head— and god, why do you feel like this?

Why do you, for some odd reason, wish it was Eddie beneath you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s hands touching you? Why do you wish Eddie’s brown eyes were gazing at you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s warm skin beneath your fingertips?

Your body and heart want Eddie for selfish reasons, but deep down, you and Eddie both know it’s best not to venture down the short path you’d started. But that doesn’t mean you don’t think about it. That doesn’t mean you don’t think about what it would be like to have Eddie in all the sinful ways you’d both tasted.

You don’t hear James the first time, but your attention snaps back to him when he gently squeezes your hip, “Huh?” You blink.

James chuckles as you pause your task and gaze down at him. His gaze dances all around your face for a moment, pearly white teeth digging into his smile before he speaks again, “What are you doing tonight after the show?”

And god, why the fuck is James looking at you like that?

You shrug, “Um, I— I don’t know why?” You ask, finishing the last few touches on his makeup. James shrugs, watching as you stand up straight and put the cap back onto the pencil, “I was thinking maybe I can take you out? Like a date?”

You almost choke at that. Your eyes are wide as you blink at James, heart racing and mind a whirlwind of thoughts— and Eddie is still watching you.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, Richie bursts through the door with a grin and an exclamation of two words.

Show time.

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part eight

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a/n: ANNNDDD HERE WE ARE, if you've made it to the end and see this, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate any for of feedback, i love to here ur funny, sweet, and smutty thots <3 ALSO A BIG THANK YOU TO @siennamagee FOR THE IDEA OF THE SCENE WITH JAMES, ILY STINK <3 LET THE GROVELING BEGIN !!

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner

[elsa-fogen]

So. On the topic of Alastor headcannons. What's your opinion on these radio themed ones:

Alastor has an internal radio. Like the concept of having songs play through your head, but more literal. He can tune to stations as if he was a radio himself. And if he really wants to, he can connect himself to other radios in his immediate vicinity and play that music though them instead.

His antlers help his radio powers. So when they get damaged (in battle, sheds them, whatever reason you wanna put here) his internal radio goes bazerk. Think; flipping stations randomly, connecting to other radios when he doesn't want it to, playing loud static at random. All the chaos.

He can hear through other radios. He once had to listen to Vox playing Barbie Girl through a TV right next to a radio in Vox's studio, for a week straight. Surely enough; Barbie Girl is now banned from all radio stations in hell.

What do you think? I got more like these if you like them. Give me a generic topic and I can probably list several under that category.

OHH RADIO HEASCANONS

Yes, but he also can turn it on and off when he needs

Never thought about it, but it's funny (don't think i'm going to use it anywhere but who knows, maybe i'll make some funzies with that)

Pretty much used it in one my comic slihdsdkjfh +headcanon that Vox taught him that, he also can control when and which radio he wants to listen (or his head would be a horrible mess) ut i like headcanon that he has some songs banned on the radio lol

speaking of other radiostations, i actually made an instruction on How To get Your Own Radio Station In Hell, let me just find it real quick... i wanted to share it long ago, but couldn't find a moment

Imagine you're a normal sinner in hell, who suddenly wants to become radio host for one small station. and it's possible! and you won't even die, and get some benefits, if succeed. So, it's kinda hard, but doable

1. You need to write a letter asking for a permission to have your own station to The Radio Demon himself. a) letter should be handwritten, and your handwriting must be at least readable. Or you can use typewriter, if you find one. DO NOT write it on a computer and then print, you'll probably won't be able to get your station in following 50 years b) You should send your letter via post. DO NOT try to meet Radio Demon in person, you'll just lose time, or even if you get lucky, he won't take your letter. b*) Now you can just come to Hazbin Hotel and give your letter to Charlie Morningstar and ask her to give it to Radio Demon. Don't worry, she won't read it. b**) You should leave your contacts, that's obligatory if you want to get an answer - that means you have to have a place to live. c) Do not try to e-mail him, he doesn't even have a phone or computer to receive it. If someone gives you 100% totally real Radio Demon's e-mail - don't trust them, its fake 2. You'll get answer from the Radio Demon in 1-2 weeks, he'll send you set of papers which you have to fill out. You'll probably have to do it 3-4 times so don't worry, he's just testing your dedication. In these papers you give general info about your future radio station - the name, schedule, what activities you'll gonna have and what kinds of music wanna play. Include some jazz, especially if you mostly want to have modern music. You'll also have to tell a bit about yourself. You absolutely should not be connected to voxtech in any way. 2.b) he may simply dislike your ass and become a real bureaucratic monster. Keep trying - you can impress him with you dedication and he may like you in the end 3. When you got your application approved, you'll have to sign a contract, that gives you right to broadcast on a certain radio frequency. According to the contract - your radio station belongs to the Radio Demon, you'll just getting it in unlimited use, until the contract terminated. You DO NOT sell your soul to the Radio Demon. He can broadcast over you any time he needs and you can't do anything about it. He can also ask you to change something in your broadcast schedule, ask to replace of cancel any of your programs, ban music and so on. (Tho, he probably won't do anything of it). But since your radio station is his property, you're as well under his protection while you on your station, so if someone attacks you and you're unable to protect yourself and your station, you'll have a way to contact him and ask for help. You'll have a specific channel for it and list of morse codes for emergencies. You should not use this channel for anything else, or you'll lose your station. 4. After all paperwork is done and approved, you have to get equipment for your station. DO NOT use ANYTHING voxtech related, and you absolutely cannot have TV on your station. 5. After you got all the equipment, invite the Radio Demon to your station. He'll set everything up for you and give you list of emergency codes. Do not try to interrupt his infodumps even if you lost track of it and can't understand shit, it's better if you show enthusiasm. 6. And done! Now you are happy small radio host! The Radio Demon may show up on your station sometimes to check how everything's going, but don't worry about it, he won't be bother you too often after few weeks.

P. S. You are NOT friends with the Radio Demon, even if he acts friendly and calls you "dear" - that's just his normal, not-threatenning behavior P. P. S. Don't be too personal, don't dump on him your problems if they aren't related to the station when he comes to you. Just make him some coffee, talk about weather and tell that everything works just fine P. P. P. S. ABSOLUTELY! DO NOT! TRY TO HUG HIM! He'll just laugh at you, and if you somehow succeed he'll make everything to make you regret every action in your life and afterlife that led you to this moment (and it doesn't necessarily means he will torture you physically, once he run into masacistic freak that got a boner when was tortured) P. P. P. P. S. If you caught feelings for him - suffer in silence and NEVER try to confess. You'll lose your station immediately and will never get it back.

All these instructions are totally written by Rosie who heared so many complaints from Alastor about how people want to become a radio host but can't do it properly

And Alastor is probably making them experience what he went through to become a radio host in life

GOD, TUMBLR WHY UR SUCH AN ASS TODAY WTF LET ME JUST POST MY SILLY TEXT

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

It's A Wonderful World

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: fluff, ominous ending

Summary: You didn't think you'd meet someone like Spencer while staying in America, and you can't seem to stay away from him. No one, not even your uncle, can keep you from him no matter how dangerous it might be for you.

Play Pretend Masterlist

Square Filled: magic for @acrosstheuniversebingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Like with anything in life, if you keep at it, you’ll excel. Except for this. You never had to work a day in your life but you are willing to try. Making coffee for people is a lot harder than people make it seem. You’re good at reading people and learning by what they’re doing but this is on a whole other level.

It’s only your second day so there is still room for improvement, but it’s like you’re working with no training. Cindy gave you proper training yesterday so you’ve been tasked to making drinks rather than stocking items. Spencer walks into the shop at the same time as yesterday, and he smiles when he sees you.

“Still having trouble?” Spencer asks after putting his order in.

“It’s obvious, huh?” you chuckle. You grab his cup and look at the cashier’s handwriting. You get to work on making his drink as best as you can. Spencer tries to help where he can which you appreciate. You’re trying not to look like someone who has never seen the inside of a coffee shop before but it’s hard when this is all so new for you. “So, where is there to get good food? I’m new to town and I don’t want to be stuck eating this food.”

“Huh?”

You look at your coworker who has a confused look on her face.

“No offense.”

“Why don’t I pick you up on my lunch break? I can show you a good place to eat.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay, that would be great,” you smile.

Spencer grabs his drink when it’s ready and leaves the coffee shop. The next few hours go by quickly because you’re so busy trying to learn all that you can. When Spencer walks into the coffee shop around lunch time, you look at the clock in shock.

“Is it that time already?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles.

“Cindy, I’m taking my lunch break. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, hon, that’s fine. You get an hour.”

“Thank you!”

You go to the back and take off your apron before grabbing your purse. Spencer waits patiently for you by the door and smiles when you join his side. There is no need to drive anywhere since The Coffee Shop is located in the strip where there are shops and restaurants all within walking distance of each other. Spencer takes you to one of the fast food places called The Charred Grill that serves brugers, hot dogs, and good old American comfort food.

As soon as you walk in, Spencer walks to the end of the line, but you keep walking toward the kitchen. Before you can cross the threshold into the kitchen, Spencer quickly pulls you back.

“What are you doing?”

“What?  Isn’t the kitchen where food is normlally made?”

“Yeah, but… Have you never been inside the restaurant?”

“Oh, God,” you chuckle and cover your face in embarrassment. “I did it again, didn’t I? I have never been in a place like this before.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer chuckles. “Let’s get in line.”

You two move to the back of the line and wait patiently until it’s your turn to order. You have never had this type of food before since the family chef always made five-course meals. None of them have ever been hot dogs and burgers. You’re not sure what to order and Spencer sees the uncertainty in your eyes. Thankfully, he orders for you, and the two of you take a seat to wait for the food to be ready.

“So, you know what I do for work. What do you do?” you ask and cross your legs.

“I’m in the FBI. The BAU to get technical. I’m a profiler.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I bet you see all kinds of things.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he chuckles.

“Have you lived in Virginia all your life?”

“No, I’m from Las Vegas. I moved here when I was sixteen after my college graduation.”

You’re not familiar with the American school system at all, but you know that college isn’t meant for teenagers.

“College at sixteen? What are you, some kind of genius?”

“Yes, actually,” he laughs. “I have an IQ of 187, can read twenty thousand words per minute, and I have three PhDs and two Bachelors.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. What about you? Where did you move from?”

You freeze at his question because you aren’t expecting it. The only place in the United States you know of is Los Angeles and New York. You didn't really have much time to study the place before you came here.

“Oh, you know. Around,” you chuckle nervously. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

“I get it.”

Once the food is ready, Spencer grabs it from the counter and returns to the table. The food looks greasy and delicious, and you can’t wait to try it all. Spencer got you their classic cheeseburger and an All-American hot dog with fries.

“Where are the utensils?” you ask.

“What do you mean?”

“You expect me to eat this with my hands?”

“Have you never had a cheeseburger before?”

Shit, you really need to do research when you get home. This is so fucking embarrassing. Plus, he’s an FBI profiler. He’ll see right through you if you keep acting like this, and you would have ruined this before you two could ever get to know each other.

“No, sorry.”

“Don’t be ashamed. Here, grab it like this.” You copy his movements and grab the burger with both hands. He takes a bite out of the side of it, and you do exactly what he did. “There you go.”

Flavors explode inside your mouth, flavors you’ve never experienced before.

“This is delicious,” you mumble with your mouth full. You grab a napkin and cover your mouth until you’re done chewing. After swallowing, you dab the napkin on your face. “It’s magical. I’ve never had anything like this before.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

You only get an hour and the waiting around took half that time. After lunch is over, Spencer walks you back to The Coffee Shop. You need to get back to work and he needs to return to the BAU.

“Well, that was one of the weirdest dates I’ve been on.” You look at him with confusion. “A good weird.”

“This was a date?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

“Then I guess it’s a date,” you smile.

Spencer shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Can I see you again?”

“Yes. You know where to find me. I’d give you my phone number but I don’t have a phone.” You think of an excuse as to why you don’t. “It broke and I’m trying to get a new one.”

“That’s fine. It’ll give me an excuse to come visit you. Plus, I like hanging out more than texting anyway.”

“Okay,” you smile.

Spencer leaves and you finish the rest of your shift quickly. When you get home later that night, Don is waiting for you in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey in his hands.

“I saw you with that boy today.”

“It’s nothing, Don,” you sigh. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“Good.” He downs the alcohol and stands up. “It’s going to stay that way. The more people know about you, the sooner they’ll find you.”

Fear pricks the back of your mind. You can’t go home. You can’t marry Henry because you don’t love him.

“I have it under control.”

“You better. You don’t want me getting involved.”

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[sapphicmsmarvel]

acotar x reader: one day at a time

Tw for death: 

Reader loses somebody and their friends are there to pick up the pieces. A lil sprinkle sprinkle of az x reader bc that's MY BABYYYY

Lotsssssss of acts of service within the group. 

Also bc im a petty asshole i included a snippet of one of my racist aunts who said some wild shit to me at MY SISTERS FUNERAL and just basically dissing her. (literally why would you stare at my poc best friend who's just trying to support me. This bitch stared at MY GIRL?? MY BESTIE???? NUH UH NOT ON MY WATCH BITCH). 

Said best friend was just like “she’s never seen a brown person before marie it's fine.” 

NO ITS NOT. IDC IF THIS IS MY SISTERS FUNERAL WE’LL MAKE IT A DOUBLE FUNERAL. 

I'm petty. 

soooo this is born out of grief for my sister. My sister passed away on 03/11/21 and this is very much catered to my grief and these are my comfort characters so naturally i'm gonna write about them when it comes to helping their loved one grieve. 

and yeah this is gonna be based around the reader's sister dying. what can i say. I'm on brand. 

also reader is feyres childhood friend that got turned into a fae with nesta and elain. i feel like that’s just the staple with my fics. 

---------

When you got notified of your sister's death, it was actually a pretty good day up until that point. Sunny day with clouds, a wonderful brunch date with Mor, adorable children at the studio with Feyre. Afterwards, the two of you began walking back to Feyre’s, content on playing with Nyx for the evening before retiring to your own home. When you walked up, Feyre looked at you and told you about how the Inner Circle were having a meeting inside the office. So you two quickly joined them. 

When you walked in, Rhysand held out a letter, “this was a letter delivered to you.” 

You made a face and grabbed it, “okay, so why are you all staring at me like that?” 

“This person walked into the Spring Court and dropped it on Tamlins doorstep.” Cassian said. “They dropped it in the middle of night, just when he wasn’t prowling like a creep.” 

“What the fuck?” You asked as you analyzed it. 

No name but yours and a pisspoor address. 

Lady Y/N L/N

Night Court

“We didn’t know if it was a…” Azriel trailed off, realizing how silly what he was about to say was. “Hence, why all of us are here.”

“We’re also just nosey.” Mor shrugged, her nose wrinkling. 

You snorted, and tore into it, “you could’ve opened it.” 

“It’s your mail. We may be protective bastards but you still have a right to privacy.” Rhysand drawled. 

Feyre stood next to you as you pulled out the paper, your eyes tracing over it. 

“It’s from my dad.” You said recognizing his handwriting. 

Then, it all went to shit. 

Your big sister was dead, the woman you fought with a lot of the time but yet would take a beating for. Your big sister who helped guide you through life, who would always be there even if she was pissed off at you for some inane reason.

Gone.

You just froze, not knowing what to do. You’re pretty sure Az asked you a question, then Cass, then Rhys. Then you felt Feyre’s hand on your shoulder. 

I need to leave. 

I need to go before I hurt someone. 

You just wordlessly handed the letter to her and winnowed away. 

You didn’t go to your apartment, you didn’t go to the townehouse, you didn’t go anywhere they would find you. 

You went to the middle of the forest. You just picked a random point to lose it.

And you did. 

You didn’t remember much of causing the damage. Only that you managed to stop when Azriel’s arms wrapped around you. You just kept screaming. “I know, I know. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” He said, his lips against your hair. 

His shadows wrapped around your hands, cool wind kissing away the raging inferno of your cuts. You collapsed, taking Azriel to the ground. 

He just held you as you sobbed. You felt his own tears hit your neck. He usually did a better job masking his emotions, but it was you crying, you who he had a deeper bond with. So he let his emotions run free.

“Y/N!” Feyre called into your mind. Your shields were down and you didn’t even notice.

“Az has me, i’m sorry I-” 

“Don’t apologize. I would’ve done worse if I found out…” Her voice trailed off. 

“I’m sorry I ran off.” 

“Do not apologize.” She said sternly, “After you and Az are done come back to the River House. You can sleep at our house tonight. Guest bed is currently being made up.” 

She left your mind before you could respond. You breathed in the smell of Az. 

Azriel brought you back to Feyre and Rhysand’s home. Rhys had trouble with touch, but never with you. He brought you into his arms instantly. You tried not to let the tears surface again, but it was quite hard when a brotherly kiss was pressed against your head. 

“We got you, Y/N.” He whispered against the crown of your head.

Nuala and Cerridwen made you your favorite food. Which prompted you to start crying again. The twins looked so panicked that it almost made you laugh. Elain made your favorite cookies, which again kept the tears going.

“I don’t know why I’m crying over this.” You said helplessly, you managed to laugh during that. 

Feyre and Elain hugged you from both sides. 

You retired to the guest bedroom, you found a pile of fluffy blankets and your favorite candy. As well as a bouquet of your favorite flowers with Mor’s handwriting scrawled on the note. Amren left you a bottle of your favorite wine too. 

Eventually, after some more tears, there was a knock at your door. You called out for them to come in but saw Nyx. 

The little guy was walking even more, speaking full sentences. It’s insane to you that he grew so fast but it has been 5 years since he was born. 

“Go on like we practiced.” You heard Feyre encourage from behind the door frame. 

“Hi, Auntie.” The little guy mumbled. Holding a glass of water. “I have something for you.” 

“Yeah buddy?” You smiled despite the shitty day. Your nephew made everything better. 

Rhysand walked in behind him, as did Feyre. Rhysand lifted him up onto the bed while Feyre handed you a cup of hot chocolate. 

You were just glad Nyx wasn’t holding the hot drink. 

“Here’s some wata.” He said, his small hands handing you the glass. 

“Oh thank you.” You said earnestly and took a sip. You set it on the table. Then you laid back down and faced him. “Just what I needed.” You were genuine. 

“Auntie, are you sad?” Both Feyre and Rhys froze at their sons question. Clearly, he was going off script. 

You sniffed, “yeah, Nyxie. I’m really sad.” 

“I love you.” His eyes were so big, so genuine. You were going to cry for a whole new reason. 

“I love you more.” 

“Nuh uh.” He said, as a typical toddler wanting to argue no matter what. 

You huffed a laugh and opened your arms. “Come here.” 

He crawled into your arms with no hesitation. You were careful of his little baby wings as you held him close to you. 

You loved this kid. 

Feyre settled in behind you on the bed, Rhysand joined on the other side with his son. 

They held you as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, hoping to see your sister one last time. 

————————

When it came to planning the funeral, you had to go out to your family’s cottage to help. You said you could go alone, but frankly, good luck telling Nesta and the Valkyries to stay behind when one of their own is in pain. 

So when you saddled up to your family with three warriors behind you, they were scared a bit to say the least. 

Emerie held your hand during the funeral discussion as Nesta watched the director to make sure she wasn’t insensitive to you. Gwyn stood guard behind you. They were protectors, they were not gonna leave one of their girls to deal with this alone.

Eventually, the funeral was planned. The rest of your chosen family came out and surprised you. You sent a notice to them of when the funeral was and told them they didn’t need to come because you knew how busy they were. 

When they showed up on your family’s doorstep to surprise you, you started crying again. 

——-

The day of the funeral, it was the entire inner circle crammed into the living room of the cottage of your mortal family’s living space.  

You felt bad cramming two males with wings into that small space, especially with so many other people. But Cassian and Azriel assured you that there’s nowhere else they would be. 

You slept sharing a flimsy mattress with Elain, since the other two sisters were with their mates. But Feyre and Rhys slept close. So did Nesta and Cassian. Both women facing your general direction. 

Azriel did not sleep. He wanted to be there in case you woke up in tears again. 

Amren slept sitting up against a wall, she wouldn’t admit it but she wanted an eye on you. She only trusted hers. 

Mor was curled on the other side of you. You were sandwiched between her and Elain. 

Emerie and Gwyn slept down by your guys’ legs. Emerie’s head on Mor’s thigh. Gwyn hugging Elain legs in her sleep. 

Azriel chose not to mention what happened when your dad came downstairs in the middle of the night to check on you. 

It was as if he wasn’t sure if you’d really be there. He just lost one daughter, he didn’t want to lose another. 

He nodded at Azriel who nodded back. Assuring him that you weren’t going anywhere. That you always had people watching out for you.  

As everyone got ready, it was a somber moment. Elain did your hair, Mor did your makeup, Amren set out your jewelry and Feyre handled your clothes. They didn’t want you doing anything. 

Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie let your nephew and niece play with their swords. It was the one thing they seemed interested in so they let them do it. 

Rhysand was currently trying to get your dad to accept a check from him and Feyre to pay for everything plus anything else your parents need during this time. Your father was refusing. Rhys spoke bluntly. “Your daughter is my family, please let me take care of her family.” 

Your dad didn’t. But Rhys hid the check in your dads night table. He felt yucky going into their room but did it to make sure they got the check. 

On the way to the funeral, Azriel had offered his arm for you to take, which you gratefully did. Rhysand got the door for you. Az led you in. The overprotective bat boys acted like your body guards, which you appreciated, however you couldn’t help but giggle a little bit at it. 

Nesta told you before the funeral to let her know if you wanted her to intervene to keep some relatives away. 

One of your (racist) aunts kept telling you how you’re responsible for your sister's kids. Then when she saw Azriel, Cassian, Rhysand, Amren and Emerie, she just stared. Before you could intervene, Elain and Gwyn stood in front of them. 

You almost wacked her so hard it was going to be a double funeral. You had prepared them before that some relatives were racist. They didn’t give a rat's ass. 

Oh and then everyone in your party including you were Fae. That also did not help. 

Hence why you lived in Velaris, away from all the bigotry.

During the service, Feyre sat on one side of you, Amren on the other side. Feyre clutched your hand and Amren even held out her hand for you. She always had a soft spot for you. Mor’s makeup didn’t last long throughout the service which is why she did bare minimum on your face. 

Afterwards, you left pretty soon after the service was done. You just had to leave the building. You guys went to a pub in your funeral attire. Azriel sat next to you and Nesta on the other side. Rhys refused to let you pay. But you knew he was trying to get you riled up. It was working. 

He was incredibly happy to see the fire return to your eyes. 

At that moment, with your family, you knew you were going to be okay. 

Just have to take every day one step at a time.

[savannahsdeath]

TEACHER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X STUDENT!READER

PART 1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

summary: you stay with your teacher - ellie because youre sure she didnt grade your exam correctly. she turns out to be easy to spend time with, even though youre her student

warnings: 18+ please!!

writers note: calling ellie 'miss williams' kinda cringes me but ig thats how it is.. before yall attack me or smthn reader is not a minor so its all legal also i imagine this is like the last grade of highschool?? i dont know what age it is in usa since im polish and yeah it would be legal for us but maybe not in america so idk😭😭

Ellie Williams was a teacher in your college, most students' favourite. She wasn't boring or too strict although she was serious about her lessons and she always made sure everyone listens. The point is, everyone wanted to listen.

You loved how passionate she is about her job. You could tell sharing her knowledge with next generations makes her proud. The rest of the students mostly liked her for her looks. She was attractive, even for you, especially when she was looking at you from under her glasses. Oh, god, her glasses... And the way she adjusts them with her slim fingers... Yes, she was definitely attractive. And pretty young, as for a teacher. But the way all of those stupid frat boys made clearly sexual comments about her was making you want to throw up.

You never missed her lessons and you were her best student. You could tell she appreciates the way you look honestly interested in her lessons. That's why you were surprised when you suddenly got a D from an assignment.

You stayed after class to talk with her about it. Something was off. You stayed the whole night to do it, with blood, sweat and tears.

You found her in her office, reading some papers. After saying simple 'good afternoon' you sat in a chair in front of her desk. She dropped the papers that turned out to be your assignment.

"I was just about to talk to you." She sternly said, not looking in your direction. "Why are you helping him?"

You had no idea what she's talking about, so you stayed quiet, letting her talk.

"You've always been so responsible - straight A's, making the presentations in time. Did he pay you? Be honest, I won't report it anywhere. Luke wouldn't do that himself."

You frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. What does Luke has to do with this?"

Luke was your talking stage. You weren't interested in him but he was in you and that's it. Your opinion didn't matter. He was popular and you wanted to have good reputation so you allowed him to do... whatever.

Miss Williams showed you two papers. One was yours, the other... based on the handwriting - Luke's.

"Look at the signatures." She ordered. "How did it happen? No bullshit."

They were swapped. Luke's work, graded for a D, had your name on it.

"That's an interesting word to use for a teacher. Umm... Yeah, I don't..." You started stuttering, not knowing what to say. You often helped him out but not this time.

"Just admit you helped him and I'll give you your A. Easy as that." She finally looked up at you. Her glasses reflected the light in a way that made it hard to look her in the eyes, so you wasn't able to tell what she's thinking. Was she judging you or are you just paranoid?

"I told him to give you my assignment since he was staying in your class longer, I swear, I didn't-" You sighed. "He had to... How could he..." You continued mumbling.

"Sh, shh... I can tell it's your handwriting. I just thought you did it on purpose." She said in a reassuring voice.

"Will he have any problems? It's not a big deal, so if we could just..." You looked at her with your doe eyes, nervously biting your bottom lip. The way she was looking at you made you understand why were the other students all over her. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your mind, embarrased you even thought about her in a... romantic... way.

"Okay, my dear. Here's your well earned A." She showed you a new copy of the assignment with an A grade written at the top. You also notice her fingers slightly grazing your hand as she does so. the same fingers you used to imagine touching you in such an intimate way "Now, if it's not a big secret, why are you even worried about Luke? For him, a better grade is more important than you. But if you really like him, I may group you both together in the next presentation."

"No, I don't, it's not that..." You quickly explained. "It's just... I don't even know. He's just everywhere I go."

You could tell something was off when Miss Williams mentioned Luke. She never did speak poorly about any of your classmates, not even once - it's simply unprofessional. But, this time, she seemed irritated, perhaps even annoyed.

"I'm glad to hear that, he's no good for you. He obviously wants more than an assignment swap." She put all of the papers back into her file. Suddenly, she leaned in towards you. Not too close, but way closer than she was before. "You look nervous."

"I am." You admitted quietly. Your heart starts beating fast. She's never been this close before. You both met after classes before and she was friendly, sure, but never this... interested. She made it to the point you didn't saw her as a professor anymore, just a woman, maybe even potential... girlfriend.

"I can help you with that stress if you'd like." She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't resist her. She leans in closer, until your faces are so close together that your breaths become one and if it wasn't for the desk, your bodies would be pressed together. The moment she touches your cheek, you can't resist anymore and kiss her back. She takes your hands and presses them against the back of her head, pulling you closer as she deepen the kiss.

You never felt this way before. This doesn't feel wrong, it's... exciting. She's exciting.

You hear a faint sound from outside. Someone trying to open the door.

Miss Williams quickly straightens up: she straightens her clothes, fixes her hair, and picks up her papers. Then, with a deep breath, she answers the knock.

"Hello... Can I help you?" She opens the door.

It's Luke, standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"Luke? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flicked from Luke to the teacher and back again, not understanding what's happening.

"I just realized I forgot my bag at class today, so I dropped by to pick it up. But I see you have company." He looks at you and gives you a subtle wink.

"Oh, don't worry. I was just giving her assignment back an A. The A she deserves." She says with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, exactly, Luke. I know you swapped our assignments." Your eyes lingered at him for longer this time, as you saw he knows something so you tried changing the topic to more formal one.

"I... uhh... no, I didn't do that." He replies nervously, his tone and body language giving him away.

Miss Williams looks at you with an expression that conveys "I can't believe this is happening."

You continue; "Look, Miss Williams found our assignments mixed up. Mine... with your D grade on it... and yours, with my A on it."

Luke shifts uncomfortably, realizing he's been found out. "Oh... well... I guess I'll just be on my way then." He says awkwardly.

"Just take your bag and go before I change my mind and not be so nice." Your teacher said, making eye contact with you instead of him.

Luke quickly grabs his bag and scurries away.

Miss Williams sighs and closes the door. "What a little... trouble maker." She says with a smile. She walks towards you and stands in front of you, facing you directly. "I hope he didn't bother you too much." She says softly, her tone carrying a slight flirty vibe.

You smile and shake your head, even though the truth is he did.

"You should go now, I don't want your parents worrying. Visit me here from time to time though, 'kay?" She smirks, stroking your hair.

"Yes, ma'am." You reply, trying to be playful but failing in your nervousness. "I will... umm... see you at class tomorrow."

"I'll be looking forward to it." She replies, a grin on her face as she stares deep into your eyes.

As you leave, you try to remain composed, but you're melting inside.

[moongumi]

⁀➷ ∵  ❝ just a human ❞

⟶ neteyam x fem!human!reader

⟶ he should've never fallen for a human

⟶ cw. rough drabble ⭒ headcanons ⭒ jealousy ⭒ angsty ⭒ aged up ⭒ BREAKUP ⭒ interspecies relationship ⭒ alien x human ⭒ established situation-ship

⟶ note. i've never tried to write something like this before, but i was feelin angsty. lmk what you think, i dont really know what style this is but i guess its a drabble/hc kinda thing?? it's fun! not edited or anything really

⭒ it wasn't obvious when things started to change, but slowly it became more and more noticeable the way you were being treated.

⭒ he'd leave early in the day before you'd even wake up, when he'd come back he'd say that he was in a rush and didn't think.

"i didn't mean to okay?" he said, bluntly. he moves past you rather quickly. "you wouldn't have been up yet, anyway."

your eyebrows are stitched together, feeling that odd feeling inside your chest as if something was wrong. it felt like a bad time to press matters, even if it hurts to keep those feelings in.

"you could've still asked, i would've gone with you."

neteyam sighs, putting away his bow. his eyes can't meet yours, darting anywhere but at them. "yea, i know."

⭒ you can't pinpoint the reason for his coldness. inside the lab, everyone could feel it. you weren't good at hiding your feelings but neither was he.

⭒ kiri likes to visit her mom, bring lo'ak and neteyam who's body stiffens the seconds he sees you. it wasn't just him though, they all seemed to be acting differently. only kiri remained truly nice to you.

"hey!" kiri waves her hand at you as if there wasn't a huge chill in the room from the tension.

you smiled at her from your desk, continuing with your daily reports without uttering a word.

⭒ neteyam can't keep his feelings off his face, it was obvious. his coldness was within reason, it was out of his control even if he hates it.

⭒ it hurts him to see you that way. alone most of the day, no one really your age since you were closer in range with them. most were far beyond adulthood and nothing much to really talk to about.

⭒ you were the closest to kiri, and well kiri couldn't help it but talk to you. he notices the way you've been avoiding her now, because of him.

⭒ it wasn't until the day that neteyam noticed you weren't in the lab, that his heart leaps and feels that surging feeling of impending doom.

"she went out in the morning," one of the lab guys said. neteyam rushes to your desk, the same one you've always sat at and looks through piles of sticky notes and journals. his large hands practically destroying everything in it's path.

a gasp from behind him was heard, "what are you doing neteyam, she's going to be so pissed you decided to ruin her stuff."

kiri didn't seem to feel that awful gut feeling he felt. he turns to her with a frantic look on his face, finally looking over at the monitor to find a sticky note with your small handwriting, 'out for the day, i think it's hunting season but don't worry, i'll be back later.'

"she's not stupid," kiri said, following her brother as he gathers his weapons and ionar. he was on a mission, his lips are in the tight line.

neteyam shakes his head, going towards the edge of the cliffs where his ikran rests, "i know, but right now she's really stupid–she knows it's hunting season why would she go?"

"i'm sure she's fine."

⭒ you were indeed fine. but neteyam was not.

⭒ neteyam rushes off his ikran with a mission. angry rushes through his bones as he pushes himself through the vegetation to spot you with a boy, a na'vi boy.

"what are you doing?"

you seemed unphased by him. not even bothering to reply. this seemed to make his blood boil by the second. the na'vi boy looks awkwardly been the two of you.

"and what are you doing here?"

the na'vi boy stutters, unable to say a word to the first born son of the clan leader.

your voice was flat, lacking emotion, "he gave me a ride." you get up off the ground, hands filled with bags of random plants and rocks.

⭒ he's never been so annoyed. he didn't think he'd get jealous easily, he thought things like this wouldn't bother him.

⭒ lo'ak always bothered him, pointing out his mood which doesn't make it any better.

"just talk to her man, she'll hate you forever if you don't."

⭒ he did. he talked to you, he stood there. the boy you liked, stands there telling you how he couldn't be with you. he was scared, of his feelings and what others would think.

you scoff, angrily you shoved him. pointing at him, "you of all people, i didn't think would care so much of what people think."

"i don't, i–look, my mother doesn't like humans, she hates spider–he's like my brother and she never sees him," he explains. feeling the moisture in his eyes gather, he wipes them off quickly. his eyes trail the ground at your feet.

you look away, "so it's your mom?"

"it's everyone," he kicks the ground, "i should've never fallen for a human."

"is that what you see us as?"

his eyebrows are stitched together, unable to form words as his mind is frazzled.

"aliens, i am just a human to you–not anything more." it hurts, it really does.

⭒ it was then that you listed the possibilities of what was wrong with you. what didn't you have that he wanted. you didn't want to believe that he would let that affect him, what others think or see.

⭒ he's lying to himself, he kicks himself after being reminded of how much of a skxawng he was.

⭒ tuk found out what he did, she was really angry. she really liked you, you always took her places with you. everytime she'd see neteyam she'd hiss at him.

"hah, she hates you," kiri sings. she's also not his biggest fan after finding out from the source how much of his asshole her brother was.

⭒ it was then, they needed to leave. to save the tribe–to save everyone. neteyam and his family had to leave.

⭒ the weather was awful that day, as if even eywa knew. he's completely covered in rainwater, head to toe trying to find you.

⭒ you're saying bye to kiri and tuk.

"you're not coming?" it was the first words he'd spoken to you since, almost a month ago. it wasn't like he didn't try, his mouth always tried to say something but the moment you'd spot him–felt his energy, you were gone, avoiding him like the plague.

kiri took tuk away, knowing that this was about to get dirty. you shrugged, watching the way the water fell from his pretty face after not really getting a look at him all this time, "what do you mean?"

"since you're saying bye, i assume you know–but you're not going with us? but you're my fa–"

an ironic laugh leaves your lips, interrupting him, "i'm just a human, neteyam, i know my place."

⭒ neteyam never had felt heartbreak before, not before today. irony, your heart broke a month ago. he'd not only lost his home, but he lost...his true home.

end note. if you made it this far I HAVE A TAGLIST, if you wanna be tagged that is &lt;;3

© moongumi 2023. all rights reserved, do not copy and publish my writing anywhere else.

[discordiansamba]

anyways some more spitballing about the zuko time travel AU, in no particular order

they kind of. forget to tell Toph about the whole 'Li is a time traveler' thing. or that his name isn't actually Li (and they're so used to calling him that/being called that that it doesn't even strike a chord in her earth sense) right up until they actually run into Zuko again.

Toph: wait. hang on. does Sparky have a twin? because Angry Ponytail over there feels a lot like him.

everyone else: uuuuuhhhhhhh

(they do tell her after that)

Zuko's cover story as they travel is that he's a Fire Nation deserter, because it's a little more believable than the truth.

when they cross paths with Jeong-Jeong, Zuko leaves a letter for Iroh with him. he thinks a lot about what to say, but he just settles for the absolute most important part- that Zhao is planning on killing the moon spirit, and that if nothing is done, he'll succeed.

(Iroh would recognize that handwriting anywhere.)

they can't put the genomite rings on Zuko in Omashu because he climbed up into the rafters when they weren't looking and he is not coming down. Bumi thinks this is really funny.

they don't have to travel to Crescent Island on the solstice so Roku can tell Aang about the comet because Zuko can just tell them about the comet. only he does this in the most blunt and matter of fact way possible. because he's Zuko.

sokka: why didn't you warn us about (thing happening)! you're from the future!!!

zuko: you didn't tell me!!!!

eventually there will be a point in which there are two Zukos in the Gaang. Sokka decides that while he loves his older brother very much, that is entirely too many Zukos.

(one day, in Ba Sing Se, Zuko will look in the mirror and recognize himself as Li.)

Zuko: okay. bad news. you have to let yourself get captured by Zhao and taken to Pohuai Stronghold, because if you don't, I don't know when he'll capture you and where he'll take you.

Aang: awww man.

Zuko: good news, I can get the frogs Sokka and Katara will need to suck on while you're gone.

Katara: the WHAT

[sporesmoldandfungi]

roll with me - marty mcfly x reader

A/N : yes i know my tumblr is mainly ghostbusters related things but im in a bttf phase rn and there's not enough marty mcfly works. i will probably make this a series until i run out of gas lol. ignore any grammar and spelling errors, i typed this at two am last night :))))) enjoy!!

"God damn it, McFly..." she muttered under her breath, seeing her grandfather's house in a complete mess. It looked like a tornado had flown through the already messy and cluttered home. Walking over pieces of broken metal and random items cluttering the floor, she reached the workbench. On top of it, lay a note in messy handwriting.

Sorry about the mess, I couldn't resist trying the new amp. Promise I'll come by sometime to make it up to you. See you tonight.

-Marty

She crumpled the note and threw it over her shoulder to join the rest of the mess. She couldn't for the life of her understand why her grandfather, a brilliant albeit cooky scientist, chose to keep Marty McFly as company.

Sure, he was funny, kind, sometimes charming, and was nothing but good to Doc, but Y/N still didn't understand what he saw in Marty. He wasn't as smart as her. He was careless. He didn't even have a real interest in science. The better question would be, why did Marty McFly hang around Doc Brown?

Their relationship often crossed her mind, seeing as she often had to fight Marty for her grandfather's attention, and it was also downright strange. Nevertheless, she had to get used to Marty, it was obvious he wasn't going anywhere.

Y/N tinkered on the leftover gadgets Doc had entrusted her with to finish while he was gone. She looked at the many clocks that littered the walls.

4:25

"Four o'clock. Okay, Brown, you've got..." She stopped to look at her wristwatch. "About nine hours to get this place back together for Pop."

She picked up the broom and began sweeping up piles of the broken amplifier. As she cleaned the destroyed living room, her thoughts kept going back to Marty. For all the good qualities he had, he sure was selfish. 'I'll make it up to you sometime.' my ass.

It took her until nightfall to finish cleaning the house, including the rotting dog food her grandfather left in Einstein's bowl. She made herself a quick meal and plopped in front of the TV, catching the last few stories from the ten o'clock news.

She eventually dozed off, the TV still playing in the background. Just before she was about to drift into a deep sleep, she heard the backdoor creak open then close quietly. She opened up one eye to see Marty tiptoeing through the room.

"Hey, McFly." Y/N said, yawning and sitting up.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, turning around to see her rubbing her eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly. "Hey, Y/N. You picked up the place pretty quickly."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, thanks for that mess by the way, it was a great way to start my weekend. What are you doing here anyways? I thought I was meeting you at the Twin Pines Mall?"

"Doc asked me to pick up the camera on my way there. Probably a good thing I stopped by, from the looks of it, you were about to go into a coma." He smirked.

"Shut up." She muttered.

As Marty looked for the camera, she threw her acid wash jacket on and began lacing up her high tops. By the time she started grabbing her scooter from the spare closet, he had found the camera and was carrying it triumphantly.

He slung it around his shoulder, following Y/N out the door. She mounted the scooter, waiting for Marty to grab his skateboard. He looked her up and down and chuckled.

She frowned, "What's so funny, McFly?"

"When are you finally gonna let me teach you to ride in style, Y/N? You look like a kindergartener on that thing."

"You talk a big game. Are you forgetting I beat you almost every time we race?" She smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He mocked. Marty got situated, ready to take off. "Come on, Y/N, no more kid stuff or we're gonna be late."

She smirked, "What's wrong McFly? Chicken?"

She saw him freeze and turn around slowly. "What did you call me?"

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, keeping the scooter upright by balancing it between her knees. "You heard me."

Marty approached her angrily, waving a finger in her face. "No one calls me chicken, Brown, nobody."

Their noses were almost touching as he stared down at her. She looked up at him, internally flustered, externally smug. "We'll see about that."

In a flash, she took off towards the mall, leaving Marty speechless in the dust. He quickly got back on his skateboard, hurrying to catch up with her. Marty could see Y/N's head thrown back, laughing to herself as she rode ahead. Although he was pissed, he couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight of her. He had been trying for as long as he knew her, to be her friend. While her grandfather, Doc Brown, was one of the friendliest people he had ever met, his granddaughter, Y/N was as stubborn as a mule. She never flashed her charming smile his way unless it was at his expense. They had a lot in common. Their uncommon modes of transportation, their love of rock n' roll, their love of Doc. Yet, there she stood, relishing in his humility.

They continued the race all the way up to the mall. Although Marty had tried to catch up, the head start Y/N got proved to be just enough for her to win. He kicked up the skateboard, sticking it under his armpit and jogging towards Doc and Y/N, who was already talking excitedly with him.

Doc heard the footsteps and turned to face him, his face lighting up at the sight of the boy. "Marty! You made it! Did you bring the camera?"

Marty checked to see if it was still slung around his shoulder, it was. "Yeah, yeah. Where have you been the past week, Doc?"

"I've been working on something big, Marty, something very big. I've been waiting thirty years for this day." Doc said, walking around the large truck parked beside them. Y/N and Marty followed behind, seeing Einstein as they turned the corner. They both pet him as they continued to follow Doc. The three of them stopped in front of the parked DeLorean.

Doc and Y/N smiled at the sight of it, while Marty looked confused. "A DeLorean?"

"All of your questions will be answered soon, Marty. Roll the tape. Y/N, make sure he's getting all of this." Doc instructed, standing by the DeLorean.

They both nodded. Marty held up the camera, beginning to record while Y/N watched.

Doc cleared his throat before speaking. "Good evening. I'm Dr. Emmett Brown. I'm standing on the parking lot at Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26, 1985, 1:18 a.m., and this is temporal experiment number one." He paused for a moment, then turned his attention to Einstein. "Come on, Einie. Hey, hey, boy, get in there."

Doc opened the door to the driver's seat, helping the dog into the front seat. "That a boy! In you go. Sit down. Put your seat belt on. That's it." He instructed, getting the obedient dog situated.

The confusion on Marty's face grew as he looked on. Doc leaned down to hold up his watch as well as the one hanging around Einstein's neck. Doc held it up towards the camera. Y/N nudged Marty, motioning for him to zoom in on the clocks.

"Please note that Einstein's clock is in precise synchronization with my control watch." Doc put the watches down and double checked that Marty was getting all of this.

Marty gave him a thumbs up and Doc began closing the door, then joining the two in front of the car. He pulled out a remote control from his pocket and began pushing the joysticks forward. Marty looked at it and asked, "You got that thing hooked up to the car?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, "No shit, Sherlock."

The DeLorean began to rumble with the sound of the engine. Marty was still focused on the remote.

Doc smiled, pushing the joysticks forward, "Watch this." The DeLorean began to move, but Marty was still distracted. Y/N rolled her eyes again and grabbed the camera, moving it to focus on the car. The DeLorean turned sharply and lined up in front of the three, albeit from all the way across the lot. Doc looked at the two teens, smirking. "If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious shit."

The tires screeched loudly before accelerating quickly towards the group. As the car got closer, Marty tried moving away before the car reached them, Doc and Y/N both pulled him back. He looked at the two, seeing that they both had the same crazy, wild-eyed expression on their faces. His attention was quickly drawn back to the fast-approaching car. Just as the car was about to hit them, a bright light flashed and the car disappeared, leaving only behind two trails of fires where the wheels would be. The three of them turned around, looking at the empty lot behind them. Doc and Y/N began cheering, jumping up and down and running in circles. Marty, still confused, stared on.

He heard the two talking to each other, breaking his prior concentration. He quickly approached them, "Jesus Christ, Doc! You disintegrated Einstein!"

Doc turned to the confused and frightened teen. "Calm down, Marty. I didn't disintegrate anything. The molecular structure of the car and Einstein are completely intact!"

"Then where the hell are they!?" He screamed, pacing.

"Not where, McFly, when." Y/N smirked.

"You see, Einstein has just become the world's first time traveler. I sent him into the future. One minute into the future, to be exact. At precisely 1:21 a.m. and zero seconds, we shall catch up with him and the time machine." Doc explained, the joy still spread on his face.

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc. Are you trying to tell me that you built a time machine out of a DeLorean?" Marty asked, not believing what he was hearing.

"The way I see it, if you're going to build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style? Besides, the stainless-steel construction made the flux dispersal..." Doc started, but the beeping of his watch interrupted him. He quickly grabbed Marty, "Watch out!"

Marty instinctively grabbed ahold of Y/N pulling her away along with him, just as the DeLorean came speeding back into the parking lot. The car was covered in ice, steam protruding off of it. As Doc ran to the car, ready to open the door, Mary and Y/N stood back. They both looked down at their interlaced fingers and blushed. Y/N was the first to let go, shaking her hand slightly as she walked towards Doc and the car.

After seeing that Einstein was okay and intact, Marty finished filming the last bits of the dog's short journey through time, how the machine worked, and Doc reliving the day he first came up with the idea of time travel before Doc ushered him and Y/N away to put on radiation suits. They entered the large van and began suiting up. The air was thick with a tension that was unknown to either one of them. Marty was the first to attempt to break the silence.

"So, uh, you knew about this time travel thing, and you didn't tell me?"

She scoffed, "Why would I tell you, McFly?"

He zipped up the suit, walking over to her. "You can't just ignore it, Y/N."

She was looking down, putting her legs into the suit. "Ignore what?"

"Me. Us."

She looked up, seeing the seriousness in his face. "What do you mean us?"

"You mean to tell me you didn't feel what I felt back there?" he asked.

She stood up, sliding the rest of the suit on. "Excitement? I mean who wouldn't be when they witnessed time travel? It's not something you see every day, McFly."

"Goddamn it, Y/N. I'm being serious." Marty said, running his hand through his hair.

"So am I, you aren't very direct when you speak." She said, beginning to walk away.

He groaned and grabbed her by the waist pulling her close to him. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him with the same doe-eyed expression that she had when their hands were intertwined. Still holding her to his chest, he took one hand and pointed at her face. "That, that face. It tells me that you feel the same way I do whenever we touch."

She let herself be held by him, before snapping back into reality and pushing herself off. She walked towards the door, opening it. "Come on, Doc's probably wondering what's taking so long."

Marty watched as she left, thinking to himself, "Why does she have to be so goddamn stubborn?"

He joined them outside, listening to the tail end of their conversation. "... so, I took their Plutonium, and I gave them a shoddy bomb casing full of used pinball machine parts!"

"Pop... that's really dangerous, are you sure it's under control?" Y/N asked, concern lacing her face.

Doc waved off her words, "Never mind that, Marty, get that camera ready. Y/N, grab my luggage from the truck and bring it here. " The teens followed Doc's instructions as he took his seat in the driver's seat. Y/N finally joined Marty's side, who was already filming Doc.

"I, Dr. Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey." Doc began but stopped and chuckled to himself. "What am I thinking of? I almost forgot to bring extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back? One pellet, one trip. I must be out of my mind." He stood up, walking over to his equipment, but stopped when he heard Einstein barking. Doc walked over to the barking creature, "What is it Einie?" His face then drained of all color, and he looked on in horror.

Marty and Y/N shared a worried glance before joining him at his side.

Doc began to speak, still looking ahead in horror. "They found me, I don't know how, but they found me."

Marty and Y/N followed his stare and saw a small, green van suddenly turn its headlights on as it drove towards them. Einstein quickly ran into the safety of Doc's equipment van. The three of them could make out the figure of a man standing out of the sunroof. Doc turned to the two and quickly pushed them away.

"Run for it!" He cried.

Marty quickly grabbed Y/N's hand and ran back towards the DeLorean. She gripped his hand tightly as they looked at Doc as the headlight shone brighter and brighter on him. They watched as he raised his hands in surrender. The car screeched to a stop, and they saw the man in the sunroof aim a large gun at Doc. Y/N started to run towards her grandfather, but the man had already opened fire on Doc. She screamed and fell to her knees.

Marty stood behind her, tears filing his eyes. He screamed out, "No! You bastards!"

The man's attention was now on the mourning pair. Marty watched as the man began to aim his gun at Y/N's head as she crawled towards Doc's lifeless body. Marty ran forward, tackling her and moving her out of the way as bullets ricocheted off the pavement next to them. He shielded her body with his own. They both braced for the impact of the bullets but heard the gun clicking instead. Marty lifted his head to see the gunman struggling with the weapon. He quickly pulled Y/N up and led her toward the idle DeLorean. He threw open the passenger's door, practically tossing the mourning Y/N into the seat. He followed suit, hopping into the driver's seat. Marty quickly turned on the ignition and sped away from the men who from the looks of it, finally got their weapon back in working order.

The bullets were heard on either side of the vehicle, just barely missing it. Y/N screamed as Marty continued to drive as fast as he could. The Libyan's van grew closer and closer as Marty frantically tried to drive out of the mall's parking lot. The DeLorean shook as the Libyan's van hit the back bumper.

Marty looked down at the speedometer, "Let's see if you bastards can do 90."

Y/N's eyes widened, "No!"

He looked at her confused then back at the rapidly increasing speed. He watched as it climbed closer and closer to 90. "What's the problem? You want to end up like Doc? Or do you wanna get the hell out of here?"

"McFly, do you remember what happens when the car hits 88 miles an hour?" She asked, watching as the speedometer reached top speeds.

Marty's eyes widened in fear, realizing what was about to happen. Before he could step on the brakes, the car lit up with blinding, blue light. The light temporarily blinded both of them as the car went back to driving in complete darkness. As Marty's vision adjusted back to normal, his eyes widened as the DeLorean hit a pine tree.

"Look out!" Y/N shouted as they drove towards a lone barn in the distance.

Marty tried to get the car to turn, but it was too late, the DeLorean hurled through the side of the bar, crash-landing in a pile of hay. They both groaned at the impact. Marty began undoing his seatbelt, once free, he turned his attention to the girl next to him. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her eyes not meeting his. She was fixated on something in front of them. Marty followed her gaze and saw a light coming from one of the barn doors. He turned to Y/N, "Stay here, I'm gonna check this out."

He opened the driver's door, bumping his head as he exited, making his radiation helmet fly over his head. From inside the helmet, he could make out the silhouettes of two adults and two children. He was also able to make out the sound of their frightened screams, no doubt afraid that Marty was an intruder. He raised his hands up in defense, trying to calm them down. As he stepped through the large hay pile towards the family, he saw one of the adults raise what looked like a shotgun up at him.

"Shit!" he cried, flinging himself back in the car.

As the figure fired the first shot, Marty had already driven back out of the barn and away from the family. He found a road and sharply turned on it, still speeding away.

"Okay, McFly. Get a grip on yourself, this is all a dream. It's just a very intense dream." Marty said to himself as he drove. He turned to face Y/N who looked as frantic and confused as he was. "This has to be a dream, right?"

Before she could respond, her eyes widened, and she quickly reached for the steering wheel. Marty looked ahead and saw the approaching vehicle she was trying to avoid. She turned it sharply, making them swerve to the side. Marty slammed on the brakes before they made an impact with the car. They were both panting, having just escaped death three times in five minutes.

Marty and Y/N both stepped out of the vehicle, approaching the black car in front of them. They walked to the driver's side window, seeing an older couple in the front seats. They both looked frightened at the sight of the two strangely dressed teens. Marty leaned his head down, to talk to the man driving.

"Hey, listen, you got to help us," Marty said to the man, but his wife was urging him to drive away. The old man took one glance at Marty and Y/N before hitting the gas and speeding away from them.

Marty groaned, walking back towards Y/N. She was leaning against the hood of the DeLorean, staring ahead. "Y/N?" he asked, trying to get her attention, but she continued to stare. He groaned again and placed his hands on her shoulders, slightly shaking her. "Y/N, you got to help out here. Where the hell are we?"

Y/N finally met his gaze. His eyes were wide and full of confusion. He had sweat forming in the base of his hair, starting to travel down the sides of his face. He looked at her with so much emotion, hoping she could somehow make this all go away. She gently removed his hands from her shoulder and spun him to face what she was looking at. She pointed ahead, "Does that give you a hint?"

Marty followed her finger to see the entrance to his neighborhood. Only there was no neighborhood, no houses, no streets. Just the two pieces of stone that read Lyon Estates. He looked to the side and saw a billboard advertising the neighborhood that was still not built. His eyes widened once more, realizing the gravity of their situation.

"It can't be." He whispered.

Y/N walked back towards the passenger seat, starting to take off her radiation suit. Marty stared ahead for only a moment before opening the driver's door. He sat down beside her, attempting to turn the car back on.

"Don't even bother." Y/N said, making Marty stop his actions and look at her. "It won't work. Remember what Doc said, it needs Plutonium to run. One pellet, one trip."

"So, are you trying to tell me we're stuck here? Wherever the hell this is." Marty asked.

She stood up, stepping out of the suit, tossing it in the car. She ignored his question, instead saying, "Come on, help me push it behind that billboard. We got to go into town, so I can figure out a way for us to get out of here."

Y/N slammed the door shut, making Marty jump. He quickly threw off his radiation suit and joined Y/N at the back of the car. They pushed it off the road and into the field, rolling it behind the large billboard for Lyon Estates. Y/N wiped her hands on her jeans before walking back onto the road, making Marty follow suit. They both began walking to where the black car had driven off. Neither of them said a word to each other, both too caught up in their thoughts to speak. Marty looked up to see a road sign that read,

Hill Valley: 2 Miles

"This is heavy."

[scoops-aboy86]

If You Were Serious (Secret Admirer pt 7)

Okay, so there will be more than seven chapters. For now, please enjoy Steve on painkillers and creative mix tape shenanigans.

(The crossed out thing after the first "Dear" is the first line of an E.)

wc: 3226 / rated: T / set end of/after season 3 / also on ao3

Dear I

Dear Secret Amdirer,

Sorry, painkillers kicking in. I got pretty banged up in the mall, in the fire. Well, less the fire and more getting hit by stuff. Mall fell down. I have ribs and eye and nose, and concussion this time so I had to stay over at Robin’s because someone had to keep an eye on me sleeping and my parents are still out of town. Dustin said I won at upper body injury bingo but I didn’t even know I was playing, that sounds like really a shitty game. 

Anyway, I haven’t been home so I don’t know if you tried to call. If you did, don’t worry!!! I’m not mad. I don’t not like you anymore just because you’re you. And this isn’t the durg drugs talking because I read your letter first before they kicked in, but I have to write this ASAP so it can get to you faster. 

You could’ve called back that night but if you needed some time to breathe I get it, it’s cool. And I kinda had a feeling after that you might be a guy? Like, shit, man, they’d eat you alive in this town. Not me, I learned my lesson after Jonathan wrecked my face after I called him and his family some bad things. I deserved that. Kinda funny how the next year he stole my girlfriend and now I like you. If you could still be interested in somebody who used to be like that. 

I know I like you because when you hung up I was really worried, you sounded like you were breathing really fast, maybe a panic attack? I have those after nightmares now. Robin too. (Don’t worry, we bonded and she’s like my sister now, she says we’re playdoh soulmates

“Oh my god, I knew explaining who Plato was was a bad idea. It’s platonic, Steve, not Play-Doh.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder! … How do you spell that?”

“P-L-A-T-O-N-I-C.”

“Thanks Robbie.”

she says we’re playdoh soulmates platonic soulmates.) I was worried about you and thought maybe you might be a guy but, that wasn’t as important as wanting you to be okay, you know? You still wrote me all those nice letters. You’ve made me feel really good about myself, why does it have to be different just because you’re not a girl? I can’t tell you why Robin knows about this stuff but she says I might be bysix bisexual. Not sure why I need a big fancy word for it when I didn’t have one for liking girls, I just know I care about you a lot and want you to like me. 

And you’re not a coward, you’re very very brave. You reached out first, you went for what you wanted even when I didn’t get it and tried to ask for too much too soon. And then you kept coming back to try again, even though I kept doing that. That’s so brave. 

I’m not feeling so awake anymore so I’m going to stop and have Robin mail this for me. (No way am I going out dressed like this. Her dad wears grandpa shorts dude, it’s pretty bad.) I’ll write more when I’m feeling better. Are you okay? Hope you weren’t anywhere near the mall the other night. Thanks for the rainbow song I will look for it.

Love Steve 

~

Once Eddie is done reading, he screams into his pillow for a different reason. Several, actually. 

First, he’s been so sure for the past week or so that he would never hear from Steve ever again. The only reason he’d checked his mail today was because he should have another zine coming in soon. He didn’t, but there was a yellow envelope with familiar, if slightly messier than usual handwriting on it. And inside that, stationary with colorful geometric shapes along the edges that Eddie now surmises is Robin’s. 

Second, Steve isn’t even writing to tell him to fuck off right to hell. Because yes, Eddie had heard the rumors about Steve calling Jonathan Byers a queer. The irony does send a seam of semi-hysterical laughter through his screams. It’s fine. It’s fine!

Third, Steve hasn’t been avoiding his calls. He just hasn’t been home. He’s hurt, and it sounds like his head and torso took quite a beating. Eddie remembers seeing him around school both times after the other concussions and that had looked bad enough, and that had just been his face. This sounds worse. 

Fourth, Steve is… still interested? Has talked to someone about this and might be bisexual?! Eddie’s never had anyone talk to someone else about him, has always been completely anonymous with a possible option of becoming a dirty little secret. And then the letter ends with ‘Love Steve.’ Love? Love Steve?!

Fifth, Robin knows he sent Steve that ice cream. Eddie doesn’t know what all “platonic soulmates” entails, but what if she tells him? What if she already has?!

Sixth, despite being injured, and having panic attacks apparently, Steve is still asking if he is okay. 

Seventh, beneath his name Steve had also doodled a lopsided happy face with what he can only guess is an ice pack balanced on top. Or… maybe it’s hair. Or some kind of hat. 

Any of these would be enough to make his head spin on their own, but it’s all happening at once and he doesn’t know what to do. So he screams into his pillow for a while longer, kicking his feet for good measure. 

He wants to rush out and find Steve, wherever he is. Wants to call him, but doesn’t know what he would say even if he did know the number to reach him right now. What he could say. Wants to wrap both arms around him and kiss his poor head better. Hell, if he’s turned Steve gay he doesn’t just want, he deserves to make that guy the little spoon for the first time in his life probably and just. Hold him. 

Except… he’s not sure he’s ready for face to face yet. He will be! Soon. Once all the emotions bubbling in his chest have settled a little. And after he’s pinched himself a few million more times just to make sure. But until then…

A thought occurs to him, and Eddie rolls over to frown consideringly up at the ceiling. He’s sent Steve words to comfort and reassure him before, right? Maybe there’s something else he can send, a different way of offering a part of himself to Steve until he works up the nerve to face him for real. 

It’s just going to take him a little time, and some recording equipment. 

~

Dearest Steve,

I hope this address is still okay to write to you while you stay with your friend, but I don’t know where she lives. 

You have no idea 

Holy shit man. Holy shit. Are you serious? No, strike that, you’ve been nothing but genuine in these letters and I trust you, I do. Holy shit though. It’s you. Clearly I never thought I’d actually have a chance, from the way I approached this whole thing, so you must forgive me for how utterly poleaxed, completely flabbergasted, and genuinely gobsmacked I am. 

And shit, I’m still sorry for hanging up on you. That golden years line—and this heavy secret of the most basic fact of who I am weighing on my shoulders, pressing down so hard I couldn’t breathe. I wish I’d just said something. But you’re right, I needed… space? And a push, to work up to writing the last letter I sent you. I got yours the day I put that in the mail, by the way, and that spun me even more because what if you read mine and took it all back?

But you didn’t. You didn’t, sweetheart. I’m still reeling in the best possible way. Again, axed like a pole, flabbers gasted, and gob thoroughly smacked.

Enough about me. More than enough about me. You’re concussed; I ought to wrap that gorgeous head of yours in bubble wrap and offer to fight all your battles henceforth, even against falling buildings. I’m glad you have someone out there who’s looking out for you though. I guess… you’ve told Robin about some things? Maybe these letters? Which is absolutely fine, by the way. It’s great! Fuck knows it wouldn’t have occurred to me to explain what bisexuality is, since I hardly dared to dream so big and only swing the one way myself. You’re an amazingly open-minded person by the way, Steve; I hope you know how rare that is, especially in a place like Hawkins. And Robin too, apparently. Please give her my highest regards, she is an angel among mortals and an inadvertent champion of this sad wet rag of a human being (me). 

At any rate, wishing you the speediest of recoveries and I hope you’re already feeling at least a little better. My condolences on the grandpa shorts, although personally I’m convinced you could wear a trash bag and still look like an Adonis. 

It’s taken me a little longer than I’d like to send this because I made something for you. Enclosed is a tape with some of the songs from our call that you said you liked, played acoustically by yours truly. Rainbow In The Dark is one of them. You mentioned having nightmares, and whenever I had bad dreams as a kid my mom would play for me until I calmed down. She’d hum instead of doing the words, to make it more like a lullaby. I hope it’s at least a decent distraction, sweetheart. 

Let me know if you like it? I can make one of your favorite songs too, just you let me know what they are. In the meantime, I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

~

“You should tell him that you know,” Robin whispers, at some point during the fourth night in a row they’ve ended up crashed on the same bed listening to the Anti-Panic Attack Metal Mix. 

Her dad sleeps like the dead and her mom sleeps with earplugs in because he snores, so they get away with it, but Steve always insists on laying on top of the covers anyway. The friendship is still new, for all that they’re trauma bonded, and he wants to make sure she knows he’s not getting any funny ideas, that he gets the whole lesbian thing, that even though he’s new to being into a dude he’s committed to it and not wishy-washy or greedy or whatever.

He fiddles with a loose string on the blanket for a minute before answering. “No… I don’t want to freak him out again. It’s all going to be on his terms from here on out, no more pushing.”

“Well you’ve got to do something. Come on Steve, I’m invested now. Ask to meet him.”

He rolls his eyes. “What did I just say?” 

Immediately he gives an inward wince, because that came out bitchy. But Robin just snorts and murmurs “Fine,” sounding amused rather than offended, so he relaxes. 

They exist in silence for a while, side by side. Just close enough to not feel alone, drifting on the soft notes and low, rich hum. It’s soothing. 

“What if,” Robin starts, and ignores Steve’s huff. “What if you go somewhere you know he might show, and then give him the opportunity to talk to you?”

“Oh yeah,” he scoffs, “like what?”

“Summer house party.” Her whisper picks up a little in excitement as she warms to her own idea. “I bet we can find one that’s coming up soon. Everyone knows that Munson sells, it’s one of those never invited but always welcome things. Then if he doesn’t come to you, just buy some weed and see if he says anything.”

“No,” Steve whispers back. 

She rolls over to squint at him in the dark. “Just think about it, okay? You wouldn’t be forcing him to do anything, just… providing an opportunity. Come on, Stevie-evie, this is my chance to see a gay love story go right.”

“Vetoing that nickname.” With a sigh, he rolls onto his side too, facing her. “My face still looks like raw hamburger meat, Robs. I have like zero charm right now.”

The swelling has gone down, at least to where he can open his eye again but the bruising remains spectacular. It looks like a sunset exploded across the side of his face, and not in a good way. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re more than just your face, dingus. It wasn’t your rugged jawline, sculpted cheekbones, or pimple-free forehead that wrote those letters, it was you. Steve.”

He goes to wrinkle his nose at the descriptions, but quickly remembers that’s still a bad idea with a swallowed grunt. “Please, never describe me again.”

“I make no promises. And anyway, if you’re willing to try makeup I think we could get most of it covered so no one’ll ever notice. Not at night, anyway.”

That gives him pause. He rolls onto his back again to think about it, staring up at the ceiling of Robin’s bedroom and tracing imaginary constellation lines between the glow in the dark stars she has up there. Beside him, he feels her settling on her back too without having to look. 

It’s not like when he’d found a little brother in Dustin—who has visited pretty much every day during Steve’s convalescence, sometimes with Erica or Mike, Lucas, and Max in tow, spouting off things he’s read in books about the various still-healing injuries. As annoying as it is, Steve appreciates that the little dork took the time to study what’s wrong with him enough to provide armchair diagnoses and give him advice about things that he already knows. 

Robin is… more of a twin than a sister. (Which, yeah, twin sister, whatever. That’s not the point.) They’re on the same wavelength in a way he’s never experienced before, not with Tommy or Carol or even Nancy. The closest thing Steve has ever had to this was during basketball games, in the heat of a play where everyone on the team knew where everyone was and where they’d be and how to work together as a unit, perfectly in sync. Only with Robin, it’s all the time. Sometimes they can even finish each other’s sentences—though they try not to do that around her parents, in the interest of not wanting them to think they’re a couple. 

They’re more like a pair of bonded kittens at the pound, Robin says. Must be adopted together. (“Okay, but why can’t we be dogs? Dogs are cooler.” “Because, dingus, you have a one-hundred-and-twenty-seven step hair and skin routine and you’re incredibly aloof when you want to be. I could go either way, but you’re one hundred percent cat.”)

“Maybe,” he whispers finally. 

He’s not sure she’s still awake—he’s not sure he’s still awake, with the soothing music lulling him back to a calm he hadn’t felt even before he’d gone to bed the first time. But he wants to think she hears it, just like he wants to think that he’ll run into Eddie and find out what it’s like to hold his hand, maybe even kiss him, all in the same night. He’s worn lip gloss, he can deal with a little makeup. 

“Maybe I’ll go.”

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Thank you for the tape, it’s perfect. It helps me get back to sleep because it feels like you’re there, watching over me. Like nothing bad can happen. Sometimes the nightmares still come back after but I think it’s getting better. It takes a while, you know? Last time, after the after Billy after my last concussion it took a while to stop having bad dreams. I guess the mind needs time to heal too, even if the stuff that happens to it isn’t as “real” as breaking a nose or a rib. Who knew?

I really am serious, yeah. Even though I’m me. Whatever that means. I don’t really know what to do with myself or what I want right now. (Except you. Kind of cheesy, but maybe you like that about me? I guess it’s something I always tried to hide before because the guys would’ve made fun of me, fuck knows Tommy did all of junior year, but I kind of like the idea that maybe you saw it anyway.) Once my face heals up me and Robin are going to try and get jobs together somewhere else because we’re cats that have to stick together or we’ll get stressed out and claw all the furniture. Other than that I don’t know what I want to do except leave Hawkins someday. But stick around to make sure it’s to see the kids graduate. Dustin’s starting high school in the fall, maybe you could keep an eye out for him? Curly hair, no collarbones, ego bigger than the whole state, total nerd but in a good way, even if he’s sometimes a butthead about it. He plays that game with dragons and those weird looking dice, do you know it? Him and his friends Mike and Lucas are kind of bully magnets. (Max is starting freshman year too but she can take care of herself in that department.) They’ve all been pretty down after the mall and with Will and moving away and everything. Erica, Lucas’ little sister, I guess I’m her “babysitter” now too, is still in middle school but I don’t know if she’d be glad or insulted if I waited around to see her graduate. She can take care of herself too. She and Dustin were with us for most of the Starcourt burning down and it was a lot, but kids are resilient. I don’t think she gets nightmares, not that she would ever admit to anyone if she did even though in her own words “we’ve bled together.” She’s getting into the nerdy dice game too and is planning her campaign for President of the USA as soon as she turns, what, 40? 50? Whatever age you have to be before you can do that. I’ll probably still be in a town like Hawkins with another lame retail job by then, but she’s got my vote. She’d do a hell of a lot better job than Regan, that’s for sure. 

Is your mom My mom never sang to

Also, you are really good at guitar, man. I still think about your hands, I bet you have long fingers. Really… What’s a word for ‘good with his fingers’? I think about that sometimes. I don’t really know what kind of stuff two guys can do together except the obvious but I think about that a lot. I want you to play me like your guitar. I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

P.S. If you were serious about making me another tape (which you really don’t have to, this was already going above and beyond), my favorite songs are…

Tag list (and if you missed the earlier chapters check the "#secret admirer steddie" tag on my blog): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

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