#but did i mention how much i love heather?

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 16

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, mentions of drugs and alcohol, a painful flashback, mean!Steve

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: As you get closer and closer to your birthday, you are taken back to a painful day.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @mysticmunson & @hellfire--cult thank you for listening to my rambles and helping me with ideas and inspiring me more and more to write this fic 🤍

series masterlist

-

In the months after Steve had left you, you had never felt as miserable as you do now, which is surprising, considering how happy you were in the past few weeks before you had gone on that stupid date with Ray. Not only did that night trigger every bad memory, every negative feeling that you have pushed away for months, you had also made it worse by calling him. 

You shouldn’t have called him, you wouldn’t be dealing with all these messed up feelings now if you had just stayed at Rick’s place and waited for Eddie to come back out of the house instead of running off and calling your ex boyfriend.

You shouldn’t have gone to see him on Sunday when you finished your shift at the record store, you should have just gone home but your stupid heart led you there to make it hurt even more when you saw him with her, how gentle he was with her, how happy he looked with her. 

You feel as though you are back to square one. 

Seeing them together shouldn’t be this hurtful, you should be used to it by now but your feelings are just so hard to ignore. Seeing the way he treated her reminded you of the way he never treated you – only in the first few weeks of your relationship was he this gentle and sweet with you.  

When his gentle touches turned into rough ones and the softness in his eyes disappeared, you knew that something had changed, but you were so in love with him, you didn’t care how badly he treated you when he stopped being the Steve you once knew.

You stare at the pages in your book with a blank expression on your face. You are not reading, you are not taking notes, you are not focusing the way you should be. No, your mind is too busy recalling every painful moment that you have had with him. 

Heather puts her notebook down, throwing her pencil on the bed, she lets out a groan as she stretches her arms out. Chrissy glances at her as she tears her eyes away from her book. While you and Heather study for finals, she is catching up on her favorite novel, her finals aren’t until next year as she had to repeat second grade after she had gotten sick and missed too many school days. 

Heather looks at you, a frown appears on her face when she notices the expression on your face. 

“Y/n?”

You blink, furrowing your brows as you look up at your friend, “yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

No. 

You shrug and close your book, “yeah, why?”

Heather isn’t convinced and neither is Chrissy who watches you with worried eyes. She had noticed that something is off with you, after spring break, something had changed and you are now more distant than before and it’s not just that, you are also very quiet. Just like you were after your breakup with Steve. 

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Heather says. 

You feel bad for lying to them, for not telling them things that you would have told them a few months back, but you still aren’t the only one who keeps secrets.

Without thinking, you push your sleeves up, accidentally revealing the fading bruises around your wrists. Heather notices them right away, her eyes widen and a gasp falls from her lips. Chrissy furrows her brows at her friend before she notices what she is looking at, she places the book down and straightens up to see what had shocked her friend so much. 

When you see the confused and shocked look on Chrissy’s face, you realize your mistake and quickly push your sleeves back down, as though it will reverse your mistake. 

“What the fuck?” 

“W-What is that, what happened?” Chrissy asks, worriedly. 

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing, you shake your head. 

“Nothing happened,” you mumble and get up from your bed after pushing the books off of your lap. You leave your room, desperately wanting to escape this situation but of course they follow you, calling out your name bewildered. 

“That’s not nothing, y/n!” Heather says angrily as she follows you downstairs.

“I fell,” you mumble, coming up with the weakest lie ever. 

Heather snorts in disbelief, “and I’m supposed to believe that?” She asks, almost yelling. You don’t take her anger to heart, you know that she is worried. 

Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Heather,” she mumbles, trying to calm her down. 

You turn on the lights in the kitchen, blinking rapidly as you feel tears of frustration building up. You try to distract yourself by reaching for the newspaper on the counter, a flyer from some pizza place at the new mall is laying on top of it. 

“A-Are you guys hungry?” You ask, without looking up, “I haven’t eaten all day, I’m starving. We could order a pizza, there’s a new place, Surfer Boy–”

“Y/n,” Chrissy says, quietly as she walks towards you with a look of concern in her eyes. 

“We could order different kinds,” you say, still hoping to be able to change the subject of the conversation despite knowing that it’s a lost cause. 

Heather crosses her arms over her chest, her brows are knitted as she looks you up and down. 

“What happened?” She asks again. 

Chrissy turns around to send her a warning look, shaking her head. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Chrissy says as she places her hand on top of yours, trying to give you reassurance. 

You narrow your eyes, trying to hide your tears as you give her a small smile. 

“You always tell us everything, y/n,” Heather says and for the first time you hear sadness in her voice, sadness and concern. “Since when do you keep secrets?”

Her question irritates you and it sparks the anger inside of you. You snap your head up and look at her with raised brows, “I don’t know, you tell me.” 

She looks a little taken aback at your words, surprised even. Though, her eyes flash with guilt. She doesn’t say anything this time, neither does Chrissy and when you look back at her to see her avoiding your eyes, you can’t even help but scoff. 

“What are you guys not telling me?” You finally ask the question that’s been on your mind for months now, “what are you hiding?” 

Chrissy mumbles your name with a pleading voice, her cheeks glow red, she looks embarrassed. 

“You do know that you’re doing the same shit that Steve did to me, right?” 

Heather can’t even look into your eyes anymore, she looks down.

“He did that too, he kept secrets, he didn’t talk to me, he didn’t tell me anything, he kept lying to me a-and then it all got too much and he spilled everything to me the moment he had one too many drinks – is that what it takes for you to be honest with me? D-Drinks? Do you need to get drunk too to tell me that you don’t want to be my friend anymore?” 

Both of them raise their heads to look at you, shocked and confused as though they can’t believe that you would think that of them. 

“What!?” Heather asks, raising her voice, “you think we don’t want to be your friends anymore? What the hell, y/n? You are the one who pushed us away!” 

“Because you are both keeping secrets! You whisper behind my back! You don’t tell me shit anymore! What do you expect me to do? To sit there and wait for you to leave the way everyone else does?” Your voice breaks and once again, your tears spill. You can only huff in annoyance when you feel your wet cheeks, “for fucks sake,” you whisper as you wipe away the tears in anger. 

Chrissy looks down, she had never felt this guilty before. She knows it’s because of her. The secrets and the whispers. It’s her fault that you feel like they don’t want you but she is scared, so scared to lose you if you find out the truth but right here is where she realizes that she will lose you either way. 

Heather’s eyes soften and she looks at you with a frown. 

You step away from Chrissy and turn away from them, you place your hands on the counter and look out the window. 

“We are not leaving you, y/n,” Heather says, walking towards you, “we would never leave you, you’re our best friend.”

You try not to show how bitter you are, how angry and hurt you still are. 

“Doesn’t feel like it, Heather.”

“But she’s right,” Chrissy says with a shaky voice, “we would never leave you.”

You are so sick of the tears, of the pain, of all of this. 

Heather and Chrissy share a look and you watch them with narrowed eyes.

You wipe the fresh tears with your sleeves and turn around, leaning against the counter as you look at the blonde, who stares at you with nothing but fear in her eyes and suddenly, you feel guilty for the outburst you just had.

“I’m sorry,” Heather whispers as she reaches for your hand, “I’m sorry we made you feel that way but you are still our best friend, even when we’re not yours anymore.”

“Yeah, Eddie stole that title,” Chrissy mumbles, rolling her eyes when she says his name. She leans against the counter beside you and looks at you with an apologetic look in her eyes and the guilt. The guilt is not very hard to miss. 

You know that she is hiding something, something that Heather knows about, something that she doesn’t want you to know. It hurts, she used to tell you everything, now Heather is the only one she confides in and as hurtful as it is, you have to respect that. 

“You are still my best friends too,” you murmur and lower your head to hide the pain, “I’m sorry for getting so mad.”

Heather sighs, she rolls her eyes at her own outburst, “I’m sorry too, you don’t have to tell us what happened but just know that we are here for you.”

“Yeah,” Chrissy whispers as she once again reaches for your hand, this time, you squeeze her hand back.

You know that they want to know what happened or better yet, who happened. You don’t want to talk about Ray or the date and the awful things that happened, least of all what happened afterwards when you decided to call him. 

“I went on a date with Ray.” You say after a beat of silence. 

Their eyes widen with both shock and confusion. 

Chrissy opens and closes her mouth, no words come out. 

“Ray Parker?” Heather asks, still confused. She saw you with him, at the bonfire party but she didn’t think anything of it. 

You nod, clenching your jaw. 

“Yeah.” 

You feel a shiver running down your spine when you think about that night. 

“Turned out that he never wanted to go on a date with me, he just wanted to fuck. I-I didn’t want to, I didn’t even want to go on a date with him, I don’t know what I was thinking,” you ramble as you quickly want to close the subject again, “H-He was very persistent and he kept trying but I pushed him away, nothing happened, luckily.”

Chrissy holds her hand in front of her mouth and Heather looks at you in disbelief. 

They see the fear in your eyes and how shaken up you still are.

“What the fuck,” she mumbles, angrily. “He did that to you?” She asks, pointing to your wrists. 

“Yeah but it’s okay, it’s–”

“It’s not okay! I’m gonna cut his dick off!” She says, throwing her hands up, “and his balls too!”

“Count me in,” Chrissy says with an angry frown in her soft features. “I hate men!”

You can’t help but snort as you bury your face in your hands. 

“This is not funny, y/n!” Heather says, nudging your shoulder, “why do you always go for the worst guys?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble. 

Heather is seething and so is Chrissy, that’s why you didn’t want them to know. It’s bad enough that the others know that Eddie and Steve went after him, that they risked getting in trouble with the cops. 

Heather keeps mumbling curse words under her breath, while Chrissy tries to make sure  that you are feeling okay. 

“Do you know where he lives?” Heather asks, “did you go to the cops?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to know where he lives, you don’t want to go to the cops. His wealthy parents won’t let anything happen to their precious son besides, you hope that he learned his lesson after what Eddie and Steve did to him. 

Heather and Chrissy might think that it’s Ray who causes you to feel this way, it’s not. It’s Steve, it’s always Steve who is on your mind. It's him who is making you feel like you are not okay because he is once again, haunting you in your memories, in your dreams, in everything. 

He is haunting you.

Heather keeps asking questions and it’s starting to make you feel sick. 

You close your eyes when you suddenly feel lightheaded, you pinch the bridge of your nose and take deep breaths. 

“Can we please just not talk about this?” You ask, interrupting Heather’s ramble, “I-I don’t want to think about it anymore. Besides, it’s been taken care of,” you mumble the last part. 

“Wait what?” 

“What do you mean?” Chrissy asks, “what’s been taken care of?”

“Eddie and Steve, t-they went after him.”

Chrissy stares with wide eyes and Heather looks at you, confused. 

“I’m sorry, did you just say Eddie and Steve?” 

You nod. 

“I’ll tell you everything but can we first order some food?” 

Chrissy notices the pale look on your face, the shakiness in your hands, the tired look in your eyes. She knows. Her eyes meet Heather’s, she nudges her head, raising her brows.

“Yes, of course,” Heather says, reaching for the flyer you looked at earlier, “let me guess, you want pineapple pizza.”

“No way,” you snort, “I only eat it when I’m high.”

“Which happens like three times a week nowadays,” Chrissy jokes. 

“What can I say, my weed man is really good.”

Heather laughs, “a very bad influence,” she points out with a smile on her face, “I’ll go order the pizza,” she says before she walks out of the kitchen. 

You clear your throat and turn to Chrissy, who is already watching you. There is still concern in her eyes and you desperately want her to stop worrying. 

“Chris,” you mumble as you grip her hand tighter, “don’t worry about me.”

She frowns at your words, how can she not worry about you? 

“You thought that we don’t want to be your friends anymore.”

“It’s okay, it was a misunderstanding–”

“I will– we will always want you to be our friend,” she says, “it’s always been the three of us, y/n.”

You smile, sadly. 

“A-And, I just want you to know that it’s not about our friendship with you or anything.”

“What do you mean?”

She swallows nervously and she runs her fingers through her blonde hair, looking at anything but you, she blushes and it makes you wonder. 

“I-I just, Heather isn’t hiding anything from you. T-There’s something that I can’t tell you yet but I will,” she says, looking at the floor, “when I’m ready, okay?”

She is scared of losing you, scared of pushing you away with whatever she is dealing with. 

You nod, “of course.”

You are worried about her, about what she’s keeping from you, about what she is so nervous about. You take both of her hands in yours and step closer to her. 

“Hey,” you whisper, “can you look at me?”

She raises her head a little, looking at you through her bangs. 

“Whatever it is, you can tell me, you don’t have to be scared,” you say, rubbing your circles on her skin, “I’m here and I’ll always be here, no matter what, okay?”

She nods, a smile tugs at her lips. 

“I didn’t mean to get so angry, I’m sorry.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I understand it.” 

“But we’re okay, right?” You ask. 

She nods, eyeing your face with a sad look in her eyes, “of course, we’re okay.”

“Good.”

“Good,” she repeats your words with a smile. 

“Hey guys, some guy named Argyle was on the phone! Never heard that name before,” Heather says, laughing from the living room, “he sounded cute.”

You and Chrissy look at each other with furrowed brows before you burst into giggles. 

-

The bruises have faded away, your skin looks healed again, you can finally wear skirts and t-shirts after weeks of hiding in sweaters and jeans. The weather is warm, the sun is shining and the flowers adorn the pretty fields of Hawkins, finally. It’s nearing the end of April and you’re getting closer and closer to exams and the final day of school. You can’t wait to get out of here. 

You are staring out the window, watching the white clouds move in the blue sky, you drown out the voices in the classroom, the laughter of Tommy and Carol as they gossip, as always. 

The past few weeks haven’t been easy on you, you have been trying to avoid him but everywhere you go, you see him, it reminds you of the way things were after he dumped you. Only this time, he tries, he really tries to sneak his way back into your life, you don’t let him – you want to but you don’t let him. Yet, you can’t help but love every little moment you have with him – passing by him in the hallway, seeing the way his eyes light up when you flash him a small smile, you don’t let it confuse you but, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach either.

You will forever regret the date and the call. That night changed everything. You were okay, you were okay without him. You were sure that you had moved on. You were sure that you did not want him anymore. You were so damn sure. Yet, here you are, unable to stop thinking about Steve Harrington.

Someone places their books on the table, picking the seat next to you. You don’t turn around to face whoever it is, not caring. But, when you smell his cologne, you tense up and your heart skips, you don’t need to look at him to have all these feelings rushing through you. 

You look away from the window, you lean back and finally turn to look at him. He looks good, the way he always does. He is wearing a black sweater, his sleeves are pulled up, you notice a silver bracelet around his wrist, you haven’t seen before. His knuckles are healed, no bruises litter his skin any longer but there’s a scar that hasn’t been there before. You wonder what he told her when he sported the bruises on his knuckles and on his temple. 

He doesn’t say anything, he just flashes you a small smile and looks away when the teacher walks in. 

Why does he sit here? Why next to you?

You force yourself to look away too. You hate the beating of your heart. You hate the way you feel when you smell his cologne, the stupid smell of Farrah Fawcett spray, you hate the way it feels to be so close to him. 

You try to focus on class, you try to write down notes, you try to think about anything but him beside you. 

Steve has other plans though when he slides his notebook over to you after scribbling something on the blank page. 

You turn to look at him with a questioning gaze but he is not looking at you, he is looking at the blackboard, pretending to listen to Mrs Jones.

You look down at the notebook. 

‘Hi’. He wrote with a smile next to it. 

You can’t help but snort quietly. 

He smiles to himself, narrowing his eyes to look at you. 

You take your pen, shaking your head as you write a ‘hey’ before you slide it back to him. 

He glances at the teacher before he begins writing. Mrs Jones isn’t paying attention to you, the elderly woman is too busy writing on the blackboard as she taps her heel against the ground. 

You bounce your knee, pressing your lips together as you look at anything but him. You dig your nails into your palms as you wait in anticipation. When he slides the notebook back to you, you glance at him for a moment before you look down. 

‘How are you?’

You wonder if it is a conversation starter or a genuine question but, when you find him looking at you with a soft eyes, you have your answer. 

‘I’m good, you?’

Steve knows it is a lie.

‘I’m okay. Can you believe that we’re graduating soon?’

You smile at him and shake your head.

‘No. Are you still becoming a basketball star?’ You write down. 

You watch the way he shakes his head with a blush on his cheeks. He leans down, putting his hand on the table as he writes. 

'Not good enough to be a basketball star.’

You raise your brows in question, pressing your lips together. 

What happened to his confidence? You wonder. 

‘You were always good enough, Steve.’

Steve stares at your words for a long moment, his brows knit together and for a second, he lets the sadness take over. He never felt good enough. 

‘Not for this. Are you still becoming a stripper?’ 

When you read the question, a giggle bursts from your lips before you can stop it. You always used to joke about it, telling him that you would become the best stripper in town. 

There is not a single strip club in Hawkins. 

You clasp your hand over your mouth and your eyes widen when you realize how loud your giggle was. Everyone is now looking at you. 

Steve presses his lips together, trying not to laugh. 

“Is there anything you want to share with the class?” Mrs Jones asks, raising her brows at you as she stands there with her hand on her hip.

You shake your head.

Steve snorts a little when he glances at you, you are staring wide eyed at the teacher with  a blush on your cheeks. Cute.

You kick his foot under the table and he has to hide his face behind his head when he laughs quietly. 

“Pay attention!” Mrs Jones says, pointing at you with her finger. 

You nod, “yes ma’am.”

She glares at you before she turns away. 

“Asshole,” you whisper to Steve before you reach for your pen again, ignoring the prying eyes of some of the cheerleaders and of course, Tommy and Carol, you don’t have to turn around to know that they are staring. 

‘No, I want to be a groupie now.’

Steve shakes his head, of course, you would say that. 

He changes the topic, though it’s a mistake, a very big mistake. 

Steve doesn’t know that you are haunted by memories of him. 

Your birthday is soon, any plans?’

You are already struggling. Why did he have to bring this up? Why did he have to remind you of your last birthday? Why? 

You stare at the words on the paper for what feels like forever. You hate your birthday, especially the last birthday. 

You remember the way you felt that day, you remember the way you waited for him, thinking that he would surprise you. You didn’t want a party, you didn’t even want a cake but Heather and Chrissy had still made one for you, they spent the afternoon with you, they gave you presents, ate cake with you and offered to take you out to dinner but you said no, because you knew that he would take you out for dinner and surprise you with the locket you have told him so many times about. The locket you had seen when you passed by the little jewelry store, he was with you, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you laid eyes on it for the first time, he knew you wanted it and you thought, you really thought that he would get you the necklace. You could have bought it yourself with the credit card your dad gave you before he left but you wanted it to be something special. 

Steve did not take you out for dinner that night, in fact, he didn’t spend the night with you, at all. 

You want to cry just thinking about it. 

You waited and waited, you sat by your window and looked out, waiting for him to finally arrive. You put on the pretty sundress that you had bought when you went shopping with Chrissy. You did your makeup and your hair the way he always liked it. 

With your hands in your lap and excitement still lingering on your face, you waited. 

Your eyes lit up when you saw his car pulling up to your driveway, you jumped up and rushed over to the mirror, taking one last look at yourself before you rushed down the stairs with a smile on your face. 

You opened the door just as he was about to unlock it with the keys you gave him. 

“Hi!” You said, unable to fight the smile off your face. 

Steve was holding a small box in his hands, you thought you knew what was in there.

“Hey babe,” he said but his voice did not match your excitement. 

He walked in and closed the door, handing you the box. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “happy birthday,” he said with a smile that could only be described as forced. 

Your own smile began to fade a little when you noticed the disinterested look on his face, you looked down at the little box. Did he give you what you wished for? You had wondered.

“What took you so long?” You asked as you looked at the clock, it was 7pm. “I’ve been waiting for you, Stevie.”

“I was getting ready for the party.”

You furrowed your brows and looked at him in confusion as you could already feel your heart dropping. 

“What party?” You mumbled, “I-I told you that I don’t want–”

“No, I know.” He said, “I know you didn’t want to throw a party, I mean Tina’s party.”

You couldn’t believe him. He knew, he knew you did not want that. He knew you wanted to spend the night alone, with him. 

“I-I thought we could do something else, it’s my birthday, Steve.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, happy birthday,” he said with fake enthusiasm in his voice, “now let’s go celebrate it.”

Your shoulders slumped, you opened your mouth to speak but quickly closed it again. You stared at him in disbelief as your eyes began to well up with tears. 

“But, I thought we could go out for dinner.”

He scrunched his face up, snorting, “what are we forty?” He said, “come on, get your stuff, we’re leaving.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head as you looked at him with sad eyes and a pout that always pulled at your lips, naturally.

He huffed. 

“Man, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You said with a small voice, frowning. 

“Like that,” he mumbled, pointing at your frown, “that’s fucked up.”

You wanted to cry, you wanted to run upstairs and crawl under the sheets, you wanted to escape this. 

“W-Well, you can go to that stupid party. I’m not going.” You pushed the box back in his hands and brushed past him, walking up the stairs as you began to remove the clips in your hair. 

“Babe!” He groaned. 

“You can go, Steve. I’m not feeling well anyways,” you lied and continued your way up the stairs, still hoping that he would follow you, that he would change his mind and apologize, that he would take you in his arms and kiss you, that he would take you out to dinner, that he would kiss you under the stars and put the necklace around your neck but he never did. 

Just as you walked into your room, you heard the front door shutting and his car starting just moments later. 

Despite how he had acted before, you didn’t expect him to leave, but he did. He left and you spent the evening alone with a bottle of Whiskey your dad left behind, you drank and you cried, missing the boy who used to protect you, who used to love you. You stayed in your dress and listened to David Bowie and then, four hours later, he came back but you wish he never did.

The memory of that night still hurts, it all hurts. 

‘No, you know I don’t celebrate my birthday.’ You write down in bitterness. 

Steve looks guilty, he feels awful for what he did on your last birthday. If he could turn back time and change it, he would. 

You can’t help but look at him, and you see it, you see the guilt and the sadness and the anger he feels for himself but it does nothing to ease your pain. It still hurts so much. 

‘Can I come over, the night before?’ 

It’s a tradition you have had since you were children. He would always sneak into your room and give you his presents at midnight. He didn’t do it last year. Why now? You are no longer friends, you are no longer a couple, you are not even acquaintances at this point. 

Are you a fool for saying ‘yes’? Maybe. Do you care? No. Apparently, he still has you wrapped around his finger. 

He smiles at you and closes the notebook when the bell rings. You wonder if he will throw the page away or if he will keep it. You would. You hate how giddy he still makes you feel, you hate the butterflies that still flutter in your stomach, why won’t they die? 

You leave the classroom together but neither of you say anything, you just glance at each other before you go separate ways, he flashes you one last smile – his is certainly much brighter than yours, yours is still etched with pain. 

You make your way towards your locker to retrieve your backpack and your jacket. Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone moving towards you and when you turn your head, you see that it’s Chrissy. 

A smile tugs at your lips. 

She looks determined, her eyes are set on you, she isn’t smiling and as she gets closer, you notice how nervous she looks. 

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you smile, “what’s up?” You ask, curiously when she still refuses to smile. 

Her hands are pressed together and she looks at you with uncertainty in her eyes. She fidgets with her shaky hands. 

“I-I’m ready to talk.” 

You did not expect to hear that from her. It’s been weeks since she admitted to keeping something from you and not once did you pressure her to talk, you did try to reassure her that nothing could drive you away from her but she still needed time. 

“You are?” You ask, looking around the crowded hallways. 

She nods, licking her lips as she stares at you. 

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s get out of here.” You reach for your backpack and pull the strap over your shoulder before you reach for her hand, “come on.”

You can feel how nervous she is, how clammy her hand is, how shaky it is as she grips yours tightly. It makes you a little anxious. What could possibly make her this nervous? 

You leave the school and walk towards your car. 

“Do you wanna go to my place?” You ask. 

She shakes her head, looking down as she lets go of your hand to walk to the passenger side. 

“Okay, uh, the lookout?” You ask. 

“Y-Yeah.”

You nod and unlock your car, you throw your backpack in the backseat and reach for the sunglasses in your glove compartment. You glance at her, noticing how nervous she still is as she bounces her knee. 

“Chris, don’t be so nervous,” you say, trying to reassure her, “if you wanna talk about your position on the cheer squad, you can absolutely have my spot as the captain,” you joke but she doesn’t laugh, she only cracks a small smile. 

You figure that nothing you will say will make her any less nervous, the only thing that will help is talk about whatever is laying heavy on her heart. So, you start the car and you turn on some music, hoping that it will calm her down. You drive to the lookout, you always used to go together. Back when you had only gotten your driver license, you, Chrissy and Heather would always come up here and have a little picnic, you would take pictures of each other with your dad’s polaroid camera. 

You miss those days. The simpler days. 

You both get out and sit on the hood of your car, looking down at the small town you live in. From up here, it looks so much smaller than it actually is. 

“I– I don’t know how to tell you,” she starts after a long few minutes of silence.

“What are you afraid of?” You ask as your take your hand in yours.

She blinks. The wind blows through her hair and she looks down to avoid your eyes. 

“That you won’t be my friend anymore.”

“Chrissy,” you whisper, holding her hand tighter, “we’ve been friends since we were little kids, what makes you think that I’d stop being your friend?”

She shrugs. 

“You and I, we're best friends for the rest of our lives.” 

She rolls her eyes, “except you got Eddie now.”

“Eddie isn’t a girl though, I still need my girl best friends – hey, are you jealous of Eddie, is that it?” You chuckle.

Her eyes widen and she tenses up, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Her cheeks take the color of your red skirt and your smile falls as you stare at her reaction in surprise. 

“I-I, no! I’m not–” She stutters and her voice gets high pitched. 

“Wait, y-you don’t like Eddie do you?” You frown. 

She almost looks taken aback by your question and she draws back, scrunching her face up as she shakes her head, “what!? No!”

Your shoulders slump in relief. 

Her reaction is almost comical, if the circumstances were different, you would probably laugh at the twisted mouth and the disapproving look in her eyes. 

“I don’t like him,” she says, shaking her head, “I don’t like people like him.” 

“Oh,” you frown. Is that it? Is that what she is keeping from you? She doesn’t like Eddie? She doesn’t like your best friend? She doesn’t like his reputation and your reputation?

“N-No!” She huffs, rolling her eyes at her choice of words, “I don’t mean it like that, I don’t mean him in general, I-I mean – fuck.” Her shoulders slump and she closes her eyes when she feels the tears welling up. “I don’t like men – I don’t, I’m not into them! I like girls,” she says, quietly. 

Oh. 

Your lips part in surprise and your eyes widen but you finally relax and the tension in your body leaves. You were so worried about all the possibilities of what she could be hiding from you, out of all of them, you did not expect this. 

She is shaking even more now and you hold her hand tighter in response. 

“Chrissy,” you whisper and scoot closer to her. 

When she hears your soft voice and feels your even softer touch, she manages to open her eyes again and looks at you through her tears. 

“You scared me to death!” You mumble before you pull her into a hug, squeezing her tightly. “I thought you were hiding something bad!” 

You hear her sniffle first and then her sigh of relief as she melts into your touch and hugs you back. 

“I-I, you’re not, you don’t think it’s weird?” 

You scrunch your face up and frown, “why would I think that it’s weird?” You mumble, still hugging her. 

“‘Cause some people think it’s weird.”

“Fuck them,” you whisper, rubbing her back and squeezing her tightly before you pull away from her. You look at her soft features and smile, “I’m sorry you were so scared to tell me but I hope you know that I would never judge you, you’re my best friend and I’m proud of you.”

Her eyes light up and she smiles, “you are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, smiling. 

She presses her hand to her chest as she sighs in relief again, closing her eyes.

“So, who’s the lucky girl?”

And just like that, her smile fades away again and she looks at you with the same sad eyes you saw one too many times already. This time, it doesn’t take you long to put two and two together, the signs were always there but as always, you were too blind to see them, just like you had been blind to so many other things in your life. 

She was always protective of you, more so than Heather was. She was always a little giddy around you, nervous and shy. She was always more affectionate with you than anyone else. 

And then you remember Carol’s words, what she said – or tried to say about Chrissy before Heather intervened. 

God, you feel like a fool. 

Life passes by you and you don’t even notice. Where is your mind at all the time?

Chrissy’s eyes are filled with sadness and the same fear as before, she doesn’t need to say it out loud for you to know. The look on her face confirms it all. 

“Oh Chrissy.”

“I-It’s okay, y/n,” she whispers, “please don’t pity me, it’s just, it will pass.”

You tilt your head, you can’t help but look at her with the same look that lingers in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and look down at her hand. 

“No, I’ll be fine, really,” she says, “just promise me that nothing will change?”

Your chest aches and it hurts to know that she is hurting because of you. 

“Because that’s all that matters to me, that you are still my friend.”

“I am,” you reassure her again, “I promise.”

She nods at you, not letting her tears spill. She smiles at you again before she scoots closer to you. 

“Thank you.” 

You shake your head and wrap your arm around her shoulder as she leans her head on your shoulder. 

“No, thank you for trusting me,” you whisper, “and for everything.”

She smiles up at you when you fix the green bow in her hair and run your fingers through her ponytail.

As the silence takes over and you both listen to birds chirping and the wind that rustles the leaves on the trees, you hold onto each other a little more tightly when she finally relaxes, knowing that she will always have you, no matter what. 

And you feel the tension leaving when you realize that you had nothing to fear when it came to her and Heather. 

“Hey, you know what?” 

“Hmm?”

“I saw Heather making out with Billy in his car.”

“No way!” You gasp, laughing. 

“Yeah! And then she acted like nothing happened!” 

You giggle, cupping your hand over your mouth.

“Apparently they were high. She bought weed from that pizza guy.”

“What was his name again?” You ask, laughing. 

“Uh, something weird–” she mumbles with a concentrated look on her face. 

“Ar– Argyle!” You exclaim. 

“Yes, Argyle!” 

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @taintedcigs @hellfire--cult @screammunson @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfiregirlxx @somethingvicked @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader

[schlattsdoll]

Heyhey! Can I ask you about headcanons (or whatever you feel like writing, the format isn't really a problem) of Eddie with a girlfriend who shares the same interests as him, like she loves metal music and knows well how to play D&D and she's also strong and often snap at Jason and people who talk shit about him?

I need some comfort :')

his other half - e. munson

:pairing: eddie munson x popular!fem! reader

:warnings: minors dni, eddie being a menace to society and we love him for it , mentions of bullying (typical s4 faire for our beloved freak), semi-popular reader not fitting into cliche’s, you are responsible for your own media consumption!

:a/n: i have limited d&d knowledge so please be kind if i got something wrong! i made a whole ass character sheet trying to help :’( also i made a heather’s reference bc i can’t be helped

it was hard to believe that the resident freak bagged one of hawkins golden children, and yet here you were; thursday nights spent in an old drama class room helping eddie run his sadistic campaigns over his party.

they couldn’t tell who had a worse mean streak, sure eddie was brutal, but you? when you helped him dm, it was a match made in hell for the party.

“holy shit dude. we haven’t been slaughtered like that since the first week of vecna’s campaign.” dustin said, looking down at the miniatures laying on their sides

you really did try and be nice and save them. with a deep sigh you changed your tone from your dm voice to the mom friend they’ve grown to love. “um, everyone, make a death saving throw.”

all the d20s on the table added up to a whopping fifteen. eddie smirked at you and sat back down on his throne. “and that, my dear gentlemen, is why you shouldn’t complain about my campaigns. my queen wrote this one all herself.” he kissed you quickly as he pulled you into his lap and then dismissed the club.

the next day at lunch they were all still talking about how brutal you were. “can’t believe little miss sunshine has a mean streak like that.” “what did you expect? she’s eddie’s girl. they’re practically the same person.”

smiling as you made your way to your favorite freaks, you feel someone tap your shoulder to see jason staring down at you. “can i help you?”

“y/n, why do you hang around those freaks so much? you’re too pretty and popular for them. come sit with who you belong with. got a spot on my lap with your name on it.” he winked and you audibly gagged.

“news flash jason, i enjoy my freaks, and i’m proud to be one. i love d&d, i love metallica and crue, and frankly, i love not being harassed by the men i surround myself with. so run along and go back to the future gas station attendants of america club, and i’ll be happy over here with my nerds.”

eddie walked up behind you, only heating half the conversation. when you felt his arms wrap around you, you eased into his touch and jason scoffed and walked away. “bitch.”

you rolled your eyes and laughed as you and eddie walked back to the hellfire table. “princess, that was hot as fuck.” your boyfriend smiled at you in awe of how you stood up to his tormentor.

you were truly the momma bear of the outcasts, not afraid to defend them with your life if you had too. eddie and his “sheep” as he lovingly called them were the most targeted and it struck a nerve with you every time.

“just wait until he says something about you or the kids again. you’ll see how hot i can get.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson x female reader

[queenimmadolla]

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking. 

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time. 

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you. 

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. 

“Can you leave this on his desk?” 

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them. 

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything. 

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.  

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place. 

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so. 

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there. 

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then. 

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him,  you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper. 

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him. 

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around. 

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking. 

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared. 

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public. 

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance. 

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump. 

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

── 

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich. 

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone. 

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note. 

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table. 

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him. 

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.” 

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there. 

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies. 

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis. 

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down. 

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real. 

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it). 

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying. 

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should. 

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel. 

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

 There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear. 

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose. 

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular. 

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness. 

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards. 

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party. 

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme. 

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author. 

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door. 

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection. 

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were. 

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party. 

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.” 

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it. 

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you. 

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that. 

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello. 

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.” 

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked. 

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?” 

He finally blinked, licking his lips again. 

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public. 

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?” 

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack. 

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?” 

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken. 

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. 

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger. 

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle. 

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you. 

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it. 

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you. 

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath. 

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions. 

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

—  You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did. 

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear. 

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated. 

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses. 

“. . .  You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.  

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x secret admirer!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #queenimmadolla #masterlist

[thebetawolfgirl]

Mine

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, smut. Famous reader, famous Timmy.

Mine

He shouldn’t be doing this, he hated cheating on Heather but he couldn’t stay away from her.

She listened to him, made him feel seen, he didn’t treat him with kid gloves and she also didn’t treat him like some big shot celebrity. He was just Timmy to her, as he had always been to her.

Heather was a lovely girl, beautiful and smart. But all she cared about was Timothée’s fame, whenever

he got invited to a big Hollywood party and he didn’t want to go, she would kick off saying he was being selfish for not wanting to go and show face. When really, she just wanted to be seen and photographed with him. The Greatest Hollywood actor of his time, Timmy rolled his eyes thinking about it.

Y/n couldn’t have cared less about his fame or the big Hollywood parties, she would rather sit at home and have a movie night.

He remembered the moment he lay eyes on her, it was at The Governor’s Ball thing and the room was filled with an excited buzz because someone heard that Y/n

Y/L/N was rumoured to be attending the ball. She rarely ever attended these events because she wasn’t really impressed with the whole Hollywood thing, but because this was for a good cause she decided to accept this invite.

When she walked into the room Timothée couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was stunning, she looked as if she had just descended from Heaven and graced the earth with her presence for this one night. She made her way around the room talking to everyone, and he meant everyone. She even spoke briefly to the waiters who took her drink orders, everyone adored her. Timmy knew he had to talk to her so slowly made his way over to her to introduce himself, as he got closer to her table he saw she was talking to DiCaprio and they were discussing his foundation and overheard some of their conversation.

‘It’s so incredible how far the foundation has come, you’re doing amazing work Leo. I doubt you need my help, but if you do need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I have some good friends in the Marine Biology sector who will be more than happy to help.’ She smiles as Leo takes her in his large ones and thanks her profoundly for all her support!

As Leo leaves the table Timmy hesitantly approaches the seat across from her. ‘Miss y/l/n, hello I’m-‘

‘Timothée Chalamet. I’m such a huge fan of your work.’ She gives him a smile he knows no one else in the room has received as his green eyes went wide as spaceships.

‘Really? You know who I am??’

He squeaked taking her extended hand. It was so soft.

‘Yes, I saw you in the Prodigal Son in broadway, then your big debut in Interstellar.’

He shakes his head blushing ‘Oh I didn’t have a very big role in that as I thought I would.’

‘From the way Matthew gushed about you, you wouldn’t know that.’

She smiled looking at him, she thought he was so charming. His humility was endearing, every time she praised him for something he would go on to praise his fellow costars instead of taking the credit for himself, that sort of person was rare to find. That’s one of the reasons she never attended these things, everyone she ever spoke to, with the acception of DiCaprio, was so vapid and vain. She found it disgusting.

She could tell right away Timmy wasn’t like this, the way he spoke, he was considerate, intelligent and kind and passionate about what he did. She could’ve sat and spoke to him all evening, it was intellectually stimulating to talk about anything and everything, she could feel the spark between them. But she also saw when she arrived that he had brought a date, so she assumed he had a girlfriend.

‘Could I maybe, maybe I’m being rude, but I would very much like to see you again.’ He rambled nervously and her heart skipped a beat as she smiled and blurted out without thinking ‘Yes I would love to see you again. But what about your girlfriend?’

He looked over at Heather who was currently talking to Greta Gerwig and returned his eyes to y/n

‘She’s just a young lady I asked to accompany me tonight.’

Y/n shook her head and smiled shaking her head ‘You’re an awful liar.’ She giggled as he covered his face with his hands feeling embarrassed at being caught out. ‘I know, I know I’ve always sucked at lying.’

Y/n only giggled more taking his hands from his face and looked at him ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’

‘I I, nothing I can clear my schedule.’

He stammered looking at her wide eyed.

‘Then it’s settled, we will have a very important meeting where breakfast will be included.’ She put on a mock serious face before winking and smiling and stood up, he stood with her taking her hand and bending down to kiss her knuckles ‘Until tomorrow then, Miss Y/L\N.’

She placed her fingers on his lips making his gulp ‘Call me y/n, Timmy.’

That was 2 months ago, after that first breakfast date they became inseparable, they kept their interactions low key so the paps wouldn’t get a hold of them.

Now he was at her house, trailing his lips down her neck as she ran her fingers through his hair before dragging her hands under his t-shirt and over his back making him shiver against her, he bit down gently on her shoulder causing her to gasp.

‘Timmy.’ She whispered his name against his ear before pulling his T-shirt over his head and off him.

He lifted her top off her and tossed it with his own and kissed her lips gently, she kissed him back deepening the kiss and pushed him to sit up before climbing onto his lap.

He gripped her waist looking up at her with wide eyes and placed his hand flat against her torso before sliding his fingers up grabbing each of her breasts over her bra then slid his fingers up her neck before wrapping his hand around her throat as let her head fall back between her shoulders letting him kiss her skin, he gripped the waistband of her jeans unbuttoning them as he continued leaving a trail of wet kisses down her neck.

She pulled him closer against her body and wrapped her arms around his shoulders before grabbing his face placing an open mouth kiss against his lips and ground against his sweatpants feeling his cock grow beneath her as he tightened his grip around her waist and deepened the kiss and pulled her lace bralette off her and buried his face into her neck, breathing in her natural floral scent and ran his hands up her smooth back as she raked her fingers through his messy curls messing them up even more.

She begins rocking against him grounding her hips down against his crotch, she moves to kiss his neck as he pulled her jeans down her hips trying to get them off her,

They fell backwards on the couch with her pinning him underneath her as she reached up and kissed him full on the lips rocking harder against him as he slid her jeans down her thighs and pulled her knees up on either side of him.

She moved her hands down to his sweatpants and pushed them down his legs before he slid into her from underneath as he continued to kiss her, she gasped as she sank down on him and began to ride him.

He buried his face against her neck and held onto her for dear life as she rode him hard, breathing hard.

He rut his hips up against hers meeting her thrusts making her gasp against his ear, she grips his shoulders and sits up and began moving up and down on his cock. He slid his hands up her torso and gripped her breasts pinching her nipples as she threw her head back, groaning.

He sat up and attacked her neck with wet kisses and light bites on her skin, and began rutting into her as deep as he could making her gasps audibly and grip his hair.

‘Timmy, harder.’ She breathed out against his ear, he pushed her down onto her back and began slamming into her as hard as he could. He crushes his lips against hers clashing their teeth together, he wrapped his arms under her waist pulling her closer against him and slammed into her panting against her neck.

They came together in a heap of tangled limbs and sweat as they felt their damp skin sticking.

He felt her leave small kisses along his shoulder and nuzzled her neck releasing a small whimper as she dragged the throw from the back of the sofa over them as he placed kissed along any skin he could reach as she pushed his still damp hair from his even more damp face.

It was wrong, they knew it. Timmy knew it especially. But he couldn’t muster up an ounce of guilt for Heather as he nuzzled his nose against hers and whispered

‘Mine.’ Over and over again.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

@mel-vaz

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timmy x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #smut smut smut

[masterofmunson]

promises, promises (1)

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, accuses you of cheating on him due to your strange behavior. If only you could tell him you were hunting interdimensional monsters instead.

Word Count: 3.1k+

Warnings: language, drugs and alcohol mentioned, it’s a sad one

Author’s Note: As always, please reblog and comment to show your love on content you consume! Let me know what you think xoxo

“Are you cheating on me?”

Eddie’s tone is hard and accusing as you walk into your bedroom. You scream in shock and clutch at your chest as you turn the lights on. Your eyes meet his and your heart races at his unannounced arrival.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” you sighed, tossing your backpack on the foot of your bed. “You scared me. How long have you been sitting there?”

“Are you cheating on me?” he repeated, getting up from his spot on your bed. He moves so he’s standing just a few feet away from you. Eddie seems much taller and more intimidating now. His face is cold and his voice struggles to remain steady. How long has he been thinking that you’ve been cheating on him? It devastates you just thinking about it.

You frown at him and shake your head. Where was this coming from? Just yesterday you went on an amazing date to a concert he’s been dying to take you for the last six months and now he was accusing you of cheating on him. “What? Of course not! Why in the world would you ask me that?”

He glares at you and crosses his arms over his chest. “I dunno, maybe it’s the fact that despite being your boyfriend, you’re still keeping things from me. You won’t let me spend the night. You won’t let me touch you! I had to drag you to the concert last night that I’ve been dying to take you since the moment we started dating and you’ve blown me off several times over the last few weeks.”

The growing volume of his voice startles you. You should’ve expected that Eddie would start asking questions. You have been distant, but it’s not because he thought you were cheating on him. You were so wrapped up in dealing with the probability that the gate to the Upside Down was back open that you pushed Eddie to the side.

It started because of the nightmares. Although you hadn’t been a victim of the Mindflayer like Billy and Heather had, you would have vivid flashbacks from the night at Starcourt. Memories of pushing Steve out of the way from the monster always repeated. The feeling of its claws wrapping around your arm and tearing through your flesh stung. You made it out alive because of Billy’s sacrifice and El’s powers. The teeth incision scars running along the length of your arm reminded you every day.

You pushed through it. You were fine, all things considered. You went to therapy because your parents asked you to and you shared what you could and it made you better. Until a month ago, you hadn’t had nightmares about the night. You had reminders of the night etched on your skin just like several of the kids and your friends did, but you made it out alive together.

One nightmare was worse than all the rest, which is why you brought it up to Steve, Robin, and Dustin in the first place. It was terrifying how real it felt.

The crisp spring air nipped at your skin as you followed Eddie through the forest brush to get to Lover’s Lake. With your hand wrapped gently in his, he tugged you with him. His backpack is draped over his shoulder and you hold the blanket under your arm. Eddie steps over a fallen tree and turns to help you step over it. His hand slips around your waist and kissed the side of your head as you walk to the frozen shoreline. Eddie helps you lay the blanket down on the hard sand.

“I still think this is a dumb idea,” you said, adjusting the knit hat on your head so that it covers your ears. Eddie pulls you into his chest on the blanket as you stare out into the lake. The heat from his chest warms you through your coat and his lips rest against the shell of your ear.

“I’m trying to be romantic,” he mumbled with a smile.

“By making me freeze to death? What if I get sick?”

The smirk you feel against the side of your face makes your stomach twist in anticipation for his answer. Eddie sits up and gently twists you around to face him before laying you down on the blanket. “Then I’ll just have to take care of you… and I can think of a few things to keep you warm.”

Your laugh mingles with the sounds of the leaves whistling on the forest floor. Eddie playfully nips at the nape of your neck and you feel his smile grow against your skin. Your gloved fingers card through his hair and rest at the base of his neck. Your breaths are labored and you see each exhale hover over you.

Eddie leans back on his knees and stares down at you. His own gloved hands travel up your body before resting it against your neck. You preen at him and Eddie’s smile brightens in the moonlight.

“Why do you keep lying to me?”

Your brows pinch together at his question. You frown at him and attempt to sit up but his hips pin you to the floor. “What are you talking about, Eddie? I’m not lying to you.” Eddie’s face shifts and his eyes noticeably darken. The grip on your neck tightens and your hand flies on top of his. Your fingers squeeze his. “You’re hurting me, Eds.”

You struggle to breathe. The air in your lungs is cut off and it makes your head spin. Blood thumps loudly in your ears and you ache for a drink of water.

“You’ve been keeping things from him.”

His voice is deep and menacing. Your eyes search his as he spoke. He snarls at you and it’s getting harder to breathe. This isn’t Eddie. You squeeze your eyes shut in hopes that he’ll go away. His deep, evil laughter filled your ears. A finger strokes against the top of your cheek. You freeze under his touch.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

Your eyes open and stare into soulless blue eyes. His face, although once human, is mutilated with dark, thick tentacle like shapes covering his skin. There are holes where his ears and nose should be. His claws dig into your arms and it makes you cry out. Your scarred flesh burns underneath his touch and tears coat your cheeks.

You shake underneath him and shove as hard as you can. You scramble to your feet and run straight through the woods. Your legs ache and your chest burns as you breathe the cold air. Your heart races as you jump and run over fallen branches and brush.

His voice echoes in your ears. “You can’t hide from me.”

You spin in circles and grab at your hair. You let out a gut-wrenching scream that leaves your voice raw. You scream for Eddie, for Steve, for Robin in a weak attempt to get help. How had you ended up in the Upside Down? One second you were with Eddie and then he was gone. Now you’re being chased by him with no way out. You were sick with fear. You had no idea how to get out.

You woke up in a cold sweat. Why did you feel so threatened and targeted by something you’ve never seen before? There was no reason to be scared. The gate was closed and El was safe in a small town all the way in California. There was no reason to freak out over a nightmare. You had them all the time as a kid, and this was no different.

At least that what was you tried convincing yourself until you woke up the next morning with a large gash in your arm and dried blood staining your sheets. You called Steve and Robin in a panic that morning and they drove over to console you. You’d been trying to figure out what it could mean ever since. Although you have yet to have a nightmare like that again, it had stalled your monster haunting efforts and began to impact your relationship with Eddie.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. You didn’t want to have this conversation, not yet at least. You were under strict instructions from Dustin not to tell another person about the possibility of the gate opening again. The rest of the party was kept in the dark which you suppose made it easier since Mike was dealing with his long-distance relationship with El, Lucas was on the basketball team, Will was in California, and Max was keeping her distance. If they couldn’t know what was going on, neither could any outsiders, boyfriends included.

“Eddie, I can’t talk about it, but I promise that I’m not cheating on you. I would never do that to you,” you said softly, reaching for his hand.

The frown on his face deeps and he dodges your touch. Your chest squeezes at his blatant rejection. “What is it then? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? Is that why you never want me around anymore? Am I just your dirty little secret?” he sneered with dark eyes.

Tears loom at the corners of your eyes. You shake your head violently and swallow the lump in your throat. “No. No. Of course not, Eddie,” you answered pathetically. “I’m not. I promise you—”

“Stop saying that!” he yelled angrily, making you jump. “You promise you’re not cheating on me. You promise you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me, but that doesn’t tell me why you’re keeping secrets from me. It doesn’t explain how weird you’ve been acting lately. It doesn’t explain how you spend all your time with Steve, Robin, and Dustin. I shouldn’t have to beg to see my girlfriend. When I asked Dustin what you were up to, he wouldn’t answer me either. I don’t want to be an overbearing boyfriend, but I want to spend time with you. I miss you.”

The tears at the corners of your eyes escape and silently coat your cheeks. This conversation wasn’t going well and you weren’t getting through to him. You wipe your face with the back of your hands and let out a broken sigh. You hate how you’re making him feel. You didn’t mean to push him away. You were so caught up in monster hunting that you pushed Eddie away.

The silence is heavy between the two of you. The emotional distance you caused swallows you whole. You never meant for this to happen. You just wanted to keep Eddie safe and now your relationship is hanging by a thread. You don’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” is what you settle on.

Eddie’s face noticeably crumbles at your response. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. You didn’t give him what he wanted. He expected an answer. He expected the truth and you hadn’t given it to him. You never wanted to be the cause of his pain, and here you were, refusing to answer any of the questions he asked you. It made you want to puke.

Tears gather in the corners of his warm brown eyes as he stares at you. Eddie shakes his head in disbelief and reaches for his bag on your bedroom floor. You’re at a stand still and neither one of you are getting what you want.

You want to reach out and beg him to stay, but it wasn’t fair. He had done the same thing and you kept blowing him off. As much as you hate that it’s come to this, you know you deserve it. Eddie deserves better. He deserves someone who won’t keep things from him. He deserves someone that doesn’t lie. He deserves better than you.

Eddie doesn’t say anything as he walks around you to the door. He’s said what he’s needed to say. Now it’s up to you. Now he’s giving you the space freely. It’s up to you to decide whether or not you want your relationship to continue. He said his peace and now you had to grapple with the consequences of neglecting your relationship. It was all your fault.

The tears fall in rapid succession when you hear the front door open and slam shut. Slamming your own door, you collapse on the floor and cry between your knees. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Your life helping El and the party with the Upside Down wasn’t supposed to impact or intermingle your personal life, and now it had.

You don’t know what this means for your relationship now. Were you broken up? You didn’t stop him from leaving, should you have? Your relationship with Eddie wasn’t supposed to be hard. Loving him came easy. Loving him was natural. Loving him was second nature. Was that gone now that you refused to tell him the truth?

You certainly hope not.

….

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Dustin asked as you, Robin, and Steve sat down across from him at the only diner in town. Steve pursed his lips at the teen and flicked his hat off. Dustin shoves him and glares at you.

A week had gone by since your altercation with Eddie and you haven’t seen or spoken to him since. You were too busy wallowing in your own self-pity to resume the monster hunting efforts with the group. Instead, you drank and smoked yourself stupid. It was easy that way. You momentarily forgot what you did and the pain you caused in the haze of your highs and drunkenness. If you couldn’t remember for a brief moment, you couldn’t remember the pained look on Eddie’s face when he left that night.

You cried pathetically to Robin and Steve the morning after. Although it was your fault in the first place that you were (presumably) single, your friends still attempted to console you. They distracted you with new movie rentals and boardgames you haven’t touched in years. You appreciated the effort but the ache in your chest wouldn’t subside.

You neglected to share the news with Dustin. He practically worships the ground Eddie walks on. You didn’t want your stupid decisions to get in the way of their friendship. It wasn’t Dustin’s fault that you weren’t being honest with Eddie, even if he knows the reason why.  It was your consequence to bear.

It was one of the reasons why you were avoiding Dustin in the first place. You didn’t want to have the conversation with him. If you did, you would just start crying again. You couldn’t stand to see another person you care about be upset with you, especially over something you have complete control over. Dustin’s told you at length how much Eddie adores you. He always brings you up during school or Hellfire Club meetings. Thinking about it hurt.

“A lot of things, Henderson,” you grumbled back. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“What the hell happened between you and Eddie? When I asked about you today, he looked like a kicked puppy. What did you do?”

You sigh loudly and shrink into your seat in a weak attempt to hide from the overbearing teen. The last thing you wanted was to be yelled at by a 15-year-old. “Nothing, which was the problem. Eddie thought I was cheating on him because of how distant I’ve been lately. I couldn’t tell him that I’m too busy hunting monsters with my friends to spend time with him, now, could I?” you snapped at him. You’re not in the mood to be lectured to. You’ve been in a consistently sour mood since your fight with Eddie and Dustin is only making it worse.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence settles over the table and you cross your arms over your chest as you stare out the window and watch cars drive by. Your bottom lip starts to quiver as you struggle to hold back tears. “It’s better this way, right?” you sniffed, locking eyes with Steve across the table. “Eddie’s safe. He doesn’t have to know. He doesn’t have to get involved.”

Robin reaches for your hand and squeezes it affectionately. She doesn’t offer up an answer. None of them do. You just have to bite the bullet and end the relationship. Eddie would see it coming. He’s probably accepted it already. You’d gone a week without talking and it was all your fault. He was willing to put the effort in and try to fix things, which was why he confront you about it in the first place.

Eddie’s letting you make the choice. He’s letting you decide if your relationship is worth saving. It’s up to you. You have to let him go.

“I mean… it’s your choice,” Dustin said after a long pause. “Steve made the choice to involve you. You made the choice to involve Robin. Lucas made the choice to involve Max. I don’t think any of us would oppose having a new member to the team. You and I both know that he’ll be there for you no matter what, even if he thinks you’re crazy at the end. It’s for you to decide.”

You blink away your tears and stare at him in awe. You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe what Dustin’s suggesting. You swallow hard. “Are you sure? You told us not to tell anyone what we’ve been up to. Your friends don’t even know. Why are you okay with letting me tell Eddie?”

Dustin shrugs and nods in affirmation. “Yeah. The Upside Down has taken enough from us as it is. I don’t think you should sacrifice your relationship with Eddie because of it. If you do, the Upside Down wins. I’m surprised you listened to me in the first place, to be honest.”

You grin at his reply. God, he’s such a twerp. You would never tell Dustin, but he’s right. You couldn’t let the Upside Down win again. You didn’t want to keep secrets from Eddie anymore. You didn’t want to lie to him. You wanted him to know why you’ve been acting so strange. Eddie deserves the truth.

You would go to him tomorrow and tell him everything. Everything would be fine. You would get your relationship back on its feet and you would tell him that you love him for the first time when it was all said and done. Things would work out.

Eddie would hear what you have to say and listen. Your honesty and vulnerability would save your relationship from ending. You would kiss him and everything would go back to the way things were.

You wouldn’t realize until the morning just how wrong you actually were.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie imagine #eddie imagines #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #my writing

[lovelytsunoda]

tell me something girl (are you happy in this modern world) // tom “iceman” kazansky

summary: after thirty years of marriage, heather kazansky reflects on the time she spent and the love she shared with tom as she prepares to write her eulogy and say goodbye to her husband.

pairing: tom kazansky x wife!oc (named heather)

warnings: canon character death (Tom) and mentions of gooses death from the original movie, depictions of grief, mentions of mental health and medication,

authors note: this is the fic I firmly believe I was put on this earth to write. I wanted to do so much more with it, but honestly would have ended up with like 16k words or something like that.

April 2022, Miramar, California.

“is that the admirals wife?”

“jake, shut the fuck up.”

heather kazasnky had never thought of herself as an impressive woman. she always found herself timid, shy and a little anxious. it wasn’t until the first offshoots of gray started to sprout in her hair, and she’d watched all three of her children grow up that she truly thought sh had done something impressive with her life.

she sat alone at a table in the corner of the hard deck, oblivious to the wandering eyes of her husbands trainees as her slender fingers navigated the keyboard of her MacBook.

“heather?”

she started at the voice, cheeks marred with the flush of someone who had just been sobbing as she turned to look at the speaker.

“peter,” she hummed. “it’s good to see you, maverick.”

heather got to her feet, pulling the other pilot in for a tight hug. “nice to see you too, heather. how are you doing.”

“the best I can. the kids are supposed to be coming up tonight to help with the funerals.”

there were always going to be two funerals. the first was the formal military funeral, where her husband would be buried in the same cemetery as nick bradshaw, and the other was more like a reception, something more human and less structured. for the people who knew him not as admiral kazansky, but as tom.

“I miss him, mav. the house feels strange without him in it. I’ve spent so long being heather kazansky, I don’t know how to go back to being just heather.”

maverick shook his head, taking a seat next to her. “you’re still you, heather. you’re still a mother to three incredible kids, and grandmother to two.”

“with another on the way.” she coughed, somehow managing a smile. “joshua’s new girlfriend is expecting. he told tom before he died.”

“congratulations, heather. how are the kids doing?”

“as well as can be expected. as usual, mitchell is the glue holding us together. cassie’s a wreck. she always was her father’s daughter. and for it to happen so soon after she had jamie just seems cruel. tom was going to retire, did you know that? he was ready to put his papers in, we were going to go to greece. it was finally us time again. he gave so much of himself to this country, and I was so excited to finally have him back.”

pete rested a hand on heathers shoulder, squeezing it through the fur of her cardigan. she was strong despite her age, still well built and sturdy, face marred with laugh lines but not a single telltale old woman wrinkle. “I’m so sorry, heather.”

“thank you.”

she turned back to her laptop, showing the other pilot what she was doing. “I’m gathering pictures for the reception. but most of them are of me. tom always had his fucking camera with him. I should have let the kids do this part. all I’m doing is making myself cry.”

she cast her eyes back to her laptop screen, resisting the urge to reach out and run her finger over the photo, soaking in the good memories as they came flooding back. in the picture, she and tom stood on one side of the kitchen counter, laughing with each other as they cut gingerbread cookies.

it had been their first christmas together.

“oh my god,” maverick laughed. “is that iceman in a cable knit?”

“he was so nervous about meeting my dad for the first time. I had to talk him out of wearing his dress whites.”

December 1985, Richmond, Virginia.

they had been together for six months, give or take the few weeks his team had spent deployed in the gulf, and nothing had intimidated tom kazansky more than meeting his girlfriends father. he had wanted to wear his navy dress whites in an attempt to make a good impression before heather had laughed and made him change into jeans and a sweater before they left the apartment.

even then, he had changed sweaters four times before setting on the white cable knit he was currently wearing.

iceman knew how stressed his girl got during the holidays. her family could bring out the worst in her, and they were both highly strung when they walked in the door.

now, she was off to the side with her sister, cradling a mug of hot coco in her hands as she watched him with a smile, chuckling as he dropped a cup of flour down the front of his jeans.

“you really like him, don’t you?”

heather looked back at her sister, who raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of her hot chocolate.

“I do. I really do, abigail. he makes me feel like I’m worth loving, if that makes sense. everything with tom is just so…easy.”

abigail frowned. “he’s a lieutenant, isn’t he? that means he’s going to be deployed a lot. are you sure you can handle that?”

heather sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “we’re trying. he was out in the gulf for a few weeks in september, and we got through it.”

“he’s barely taken his eyes off you since you got here. and when he looks at you, I don’t see anything other than pure, unfiltered love. I bet he’s got a polaroid of you in his cockpit.”

heather laughed, a warm and giddy feeling in her chest. it was clear how much her family loved iceman, and how quickly they were welcoming him into the fold.

“you know I’m losing him for two months in the new year. he’s off to california, got into some fancy fighter jet training program.”

“you can still go see him, right?”

“yeah, I’ve got a few vacation days saved u- oh fuck.” heather cursed, thrusting her mug into abigail’s arms as she saw what her boyfriend was doing. “give me one second, I’ve gotta stop him from screwing up the gingerbread.”

she pushed up the sleeves of her jacquard sweater, socks skidding across the kitchen tiles as she loosely knotted her hair behind her head.

“kaz, sweetie, give me the rolling pin. you’ve gotta knead the dough.” she smiles softly, putting herself between the pilot and the counter.

one of tom’s flour coated hands came to rest as her waist, his chin on the top of her head as she watched her dip her hands into the bowl of flour, and proceed to knead the gingerbread dough by hand. her lovers hands came to rest over hers, his lips soft and warm against her skin as they kneaded the gingerbread dough together.

“see, you don’t always know everything, lieutenant.” she hummed giddily, running her thumb over his wrist.

“yeah, but I know I love you, and that’s all I need.” Tom laughed, gently using his finger to guide her head towards his and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

April 2022, Miramar, California.

heather paused, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "i loved that man so much, pete."

the hard deck was getting busier, off-duty pilots and seamen flooding in from the base at miramar as shifts changed for the day. heather knew all about the dagger squad and the hazy series of events that brought pete mitchell back to the academy, often having to speak for her husband in meetings once his first cancer operation had left him unable to speak for himself.

"auntie heather!" a familiar face looked over from the pool table. bradley bradshaw was a spitting image of his father, right down to the way that his moustache was trimmed.

for heather, it sometimes felt like seeing a ghost.

"brad!" she perked up, waving him over to the table. "how are you?"

when she first came to visit her husband at miramar, somethign about carole bradshaw had pulled heather in. she hadn't known the bradshaw's long, but by the time that goose's accident happened, she felt like she had known that family her whole life.

she did what she could to help carole out afterwards, especially when it came to raising bradley, but as rooster got older and time flew by, it was so easy for carole and heather to fall out of touch.

"you look just like your dad." she hummed, hugging the pilot. "it's like seeing nick again."

bradley nodded solemnly. "i was sorry to hear about admiral kazansky."

"thank you. it had been a long time coming, but there's no way to properly prepare to lose the man you love."

rooster gestures to the group behind him, the mismatched group of people coming to meet him at the table. “aunt heather, I’d like you to meet the dagger squad: jake, natasha, robert, reuben and javy. we knew the admiral well.”

“hi.” heather said weakly, introducing herself. “I’m heather, the admirals wife. or, widow, I guess. I’m still not used to saying that.”

“are you getting ready for the funeral?” jake asked, promptly getting jabbed in the rib cage by natasha.

“what hangman means to say is: we all respected your husband very much, and we would be honoured to help you plan his memorial service.” phoenix corrected, taking heathers hand between both of her own.

“thank you for the offer, natasha.” heather smiled. “bradley, I want to show you something.”

she sat back in front of her laptop, using the touchscreen to pull up a video taken the first summer she came to visit miramar. she had timed the visit to coincide with her birthday, a small selfish part of her unable to fathom spending her birthday without tom.

bradley pulled up a chair next to the table, watching as the screen crackled to life, the date stamp in the corner reading june of 1986. they were inside the o bar, the video opening with heather resting her head on tom’s shoulder, then panning over to the massive birthday cake and sparklers set in front of her. carole bradshaw sat on one side of her, and charlie blackwood was at the head of the table, sitting next to maverick.

“is that my mom?” Bradley smiled fondly. “she looks so full of life.”

“she was.” heather laughed. “and you might remember charlie, she was one of mavericks many lovers.”

“hey!” pete scoffed. “things just didn’t work out.”

“she was always too good for you, pete.” heather laughed, pointing to another space on the screen. the group was singing happy birthday, supported by a rockabilly piano backing track. “bradley, there’s your dad.”

goose was sitting in front of the grand piano, a toothpick hanging between his teeth as he hammered away at the ivory keys, aviator glasses over his eyes.

“happy birthday dear heather, happy birthday to you.”

the camera panned back to heather and tom as she blew out the cake candles. tom pulled her in to a soft kiss while the rest of the table cheered, and then the video cut to black.

“mitchell has been digitizing all of this stuff for us. I caught tom watching our wedding videos before he died.”

“remember when slider and wolfman got absolutely shitfaced at your wedding and tripped down the reception stairs?” maverick laughed to himself “did anybody ever get that on video?”

heather shook her head, a bright smile on her tear stained face as she hunted through the original wedding folder. “I’ve got you one better.”

September 1987, Monterrey, California.

mrs. heather kazansky. she could get used to that.

she was sitting with her sister and tom’s parents, the former two who were conversing with each other in polish. she twirled her wedding band on her finger, face flushed and spirits high as she looked on at her husband.

tom was with maverick and slider, the group of aviators dressed in their best white uniforms, beer bottles lifted high as they drunkenly hollered the words to an old rod stewart song.

“and I know your name is rita, because your perfume smells sweeter.”

abigail was filming, zooming the camera lens in on heather as she asked: “are you sure you don’t wanna back out now? till death do you part, you’re bound to this dumbass now.”

heather laughed, playfully smacking at the camera. “yes, I’m sure!”

“stay with me, come on stay with me!”

sliders voice was three decibels louder than everybody else, and he was also significantly drunker. one of the bridesmaids had her eyes on him, and there wasn’t a doubt in anybody’s mind that ron kerner would have somebody in his bed that night.

iceman’s face was flushed, his arm thrown around maverick as they rocked on their feet, skin sweaty and hair mussed.

but in the midst of all this chaos, he still managed to look over at his new wife, blowing her the softest kiss. she smiled, catching the kiss in her hands and pressing it to her heart, a moment her sister was able to capture frame for frame on digital video.

tom had watched the video hundreds of times as he sat alone in his office, struggling to come to terms with the fact that he’d be leaving not just the love of his life, but his three beautiful children as well.

April 2022. Miramar, California.

“that’s the kind of love that people only dream about.” natasha smiled softly. “you’re lucky you got to spend as much time with him as you did. most couples don’t make it as long as you guys did.”

heather smiled shakily, reaching for her drink. she’d left the sprite so long that the ice had half melted, condensation dripping down the glass.

“he was so good with the kids, you know. I was on and off depressed for a while after joshua was born. my mental health had never been perfect and I was on a low dose anti-anxiety medication for a long time. but after Josh was born, everything just got so much harder and I could barley get out of bed in the mornings. tom would take the kids to school, make their lunches. he was teaching full time at top gun by then, so he took a few days off to stay with me, make me feel like myself again.”

“he was a good man.” robert smiled, rubbing her shoulder.

“yeah, he was.” heather bit her bottom lip, pulling a photo up on her laptop that had the dagger squad letting out a chorus of ‘awe’s’

the picture was taken in 1989. tom was dressed in a gray waffle knit shirt, a pair of pit viper sunglasses on his forehead as he held a smiling baby in his arms. mitchell’s wide eyes looked up at his dad, his tiny fingers wrapped around in of tom’s larger ones.

his name was mitchell ronald kazansky, because tom had made a lame bet with maverick and slider (that he lost) and had to name his firstborn after both of them (because he was a fucking idiot at times, but she loved him anyways).

the boys were both easy children, but cassandra? she was a daddy’s girl through and through, and tom would have moved heaven and earth for his little girl. whatever cassie wanted, she often got, well into adulthood even. she was the spitting image of her father, from her honey blonde hair right down to the birthmark on the underside of her jaw.

when tom walked her down the aisle at her wedding three years ago, he cried all the way to the altar. but not half as much as he sobbed when he held his granddaughter for the first time, cancer-stricken and barely able to speak, but still brimming with joy as he held jamie to his chest.

“he lead a good life. one he was proud of. he used his last words to tell me as much.” heather choked out, overwhelmed by emotions. “I just wish we’d had more time.”

pete placed his hand over hers, squeezing it reassuringly as natasha rubbed her back, and rooster gently squeezed her shoulder.

there was still so much love that heather kazansky still had to give.

still so much love that she was surrounded by.

and maybe that was tom’s way, even from the grave, to tell her that everything would still be alright.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @oconso @thatsdemko @lorarri

#top gun x reader #top gun imagine #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x reader #top gun fanfic #tom kazansky #tom iceman kazansky imagine #top gun (1986) #top gun fanfiction #iceman x reader

[tonyspank]

PROLOGUE | RECKLESS

Tara Carpenter x G!P Reader x Female OC

Warnings: mentions of zombies, angst i guess, and that's it i think

A/N: Iris’s faceclaim is Olivia!!

series masterlist | main masterlist | next chapter

"Happy Birthday!" You shout with a huge smile on your face as you hold out a beautifully wrapped gift. Iris's face lights up, her mouth opening in shock.

She quickly takes the gift from your hands and thanks you with genuine excitement. Her eyes sparkle with joy as she eagerly begins to unwrap the present, unable to contain her curiosity and anticipation.

Heather, your girlfriend's sister, records the two of you, capturing the genuine happiness in Iris's eyes and the love between the two of you. Heather's smile mirrors Iris's excitement as she records this special birthday memory, ensuring it will be cherished for years to come.

"Oh my god. You're lying!" Iris exclaims, her voice filled with disbelief and overwhelming happiness. She looks at you, searching for confirmation, her heart pounding with excitement.

"From our first date..." She says, her voice barely above a whisper. She lifts the neckless, which holds a crystal in its pendent.

The crystal catches the light, shimmering with a brilliance that matches the sparkle in Iris's eyes. It is a symbol of your journey together, a reminder of the love and connection you have shared since that very first date.

As Iris holds it in her hands, she can't help but feel overwhelmed by the depth of emotion and meaning behind this heartfelt gift.

Iris brings you into a warm embrace, holding you tightly as tears of joy stream down her face. She whispers, "Thank you so much." You rub her back gently, goosebumps appearing on your skin at her touch.

During this moment, you realize that this gift has not only brought happiness to Iris but has also strengthened the bond between the two of you, solidifying your love for each other even more.

As you both stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, time seems to stand still. The weight of the moment fills the room, and you can't help but be grateful for this deep connection you share with Iris.

"You guys are too cute!" Iris's mom speaks up, admiring the scene before her. Her words break the spell, causing both of you to chuckle and blush. You pull apart from your girlfriend, exchanging smiles, both feeling happier than ever.

"Come, come, it's time to blow out the candles." Iris's mom gestures towards the birthday cake on the table, adorned with flickering candles. You both walk over, still basking in the warmth of the moment, and join the rest of the family in celebrating Iris's special day.

Iris sends you the world's biggest smile as she blows out the candles, her eyes sparkling with joy.

Little did you know, that smile would become a distant memory.

But when you were in that moment, surrounded by loved ones and with Iris's infectious happiness, you couldn't help but believe that together, you could conquer anything.

"I hate you!" Iris yells, her once joyful eyes now filled with anger and frustration. That special day feels like a distant dream now. You shake your head, lifting out a hand to calm your girlfriend down. "You don't mean that. C'mon, babe." You reply, your voice quivering with every word.

Iris's lips tremble as tears start to stream down her face. The weight of her words hangs heavy in the air, leaving a painful silence between you. It's in moments like these that you realize how fragile love can be and how much work it takes to mend a broken heart.

"How could you?" She whispers. "Why didn't you tell me about it, Y/N?" You feel a lump form in your throat as guilt washes over you. "I didn't want to hurt you," you say, your voice barely audible.

"I was scared of losing you, but I realize now that keeping it from you was even worse." She just shakes her head at your words.

"What was going to happen in the next couple of months, huh? You we're just going to leave without telling me?" Tears well up in her eyes as she continues, "I thought we were supposed to be a team, Y/N. How could you not trust me enough to share your plans with me?"

You're silent. You reach out to hold her trembling hands, desperately hoping to convey the depth of your regret and the realization of the damage caused by your lack of communication.

"I didn't know how you were going to take it! Fuck, Iris! I love you, and being here with you has been the happiest moments of my life, but you can't expect me to want to sit around all day. I want to be something... I wanna go to college; venture out into the world!" You agrue back, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and determination.

"So, you were just going to leave the country? Leave me behind?" Iris says, her voice lower and softer than before. You take a deep breath, throwing your head back. "I was going to tell you."

"At the last second?" She asks, her strong gaze never breaking from yours. "Iris, I didn't mean to keep it from you. I was scared of how you would react," you admit, your voice tinged with regret. "But I want you to understand that this is something I need to do for myself. It's not about leaving you behind, it's about pursuing my dreams and finding my own path in life."

"Y/N..." she whispers, stepping closer to you. "I never loved anyone as much as I love you." Her hands find yours, causing you to relax. "You could've told me. I don't wanna lose you."

You pull her into a gentle embrace, "I'm sorry," you say softly. "I don't want to lose you either."

Those few months passed faster than you expected. During that time, you made sure to cherish every moment with her, knowing that soon you would have to embark on your own journey. As the days flew by, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and sadness for what lies ahead.

Of course you'd miss her. She was truly the love of your life. But you also knew that this journey was something you needed to do for yourself—to grow and explore the world outside of your comfort zone. And deep down, you hoped that distance wouldn't weaken the bond you shared with her.

As you sit in the back of an Uber with your bags in the truck, making your way to the airport, you can't help but reflect on the memories you have created together. From the late-night conversations to the spontaneous adventures, every moment with her shaped who you are today.

You remember the laughter and tears you shared, the support she provided during your toughest times, and the way she always believed in your dreams. Even the one you were creating now.

Sweet / I Thought You Wanted To Dance, which plays on the Uber's radio, is interrupted by a loud alarm. Confused, you look up from your phone and notice the flashing lights and a different siren alarm passing by your Uber, indicating an emergency situation. Your heart races as you wonder what could be happening, hoping that it's nothing too serious.

Your eyes snap back towards the radio, "Attention, citizens! This is an emergency broadcast issued by local authorities. We are facing an unprecedented threat to our community. Reports indicate a widespread outbreak of a virus that is reanimating the deceased and turning them into flesh-hungry creatures. These are extremely dangerous and pose a significant risk to human life. --"

"-- Please remain indoors and lock all doors and windows. Do not attempt to confront or engage with any infected individuals. Emergency services are currently overwhelmed, and it is crucial that you stay calm and await further instructions. Stay tuned to this broadcast for updates on evacuation procedures and safe zones."

Iris. That's all that went through your mind in that moment. Was she safe? Was she going to be okay? You sit up in your seat, "Turn around!" You shout at the Uber driver, desperate to get back to your apartment as quickly as possible.

"I don't think—" You interject, gripping the passenger seat in front of you tighter. "Turn around!"

The Uber driver hesitates for a moment, but seeing the dread in your eyes, he quickly makes a U-turn and heads back towards your apartment.

Thoughts of Iris's safety consume your mind as you anxiously pray for her well-being. Time feels like it's moving in slow motion as you desperately hope to reach her before anymore danger unfolds.

When you arrived at your apartment building, it felt like a dead zone. No sign of life anywhere. The eerie silence amplifies your fear, and you can't help but wonder what could have happened to Iris. As you rush out of the car, your heart pounding in your chest, you frantically scan the surroundings for any clue or trace of her presence.

You run to your apartment door, your heart dropping as it's wide open. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." You mutter to yourself, searching room to room for your girlfriend. Every step you take echoes through the empty hallways, adding to the haunting atmosphere.

The sound of your own breath fills the air, intensifying the feeling of dread that grips you. Your mind races with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. As you reach the last room, a chilling realization washes over you, there is no sign of Iris anywhere.

You sprint as fast as you can. Running through the open front door and scan the desolate street, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of her familiar figure. Panic sets in as you realize she is nowhere in sight, leaving you with a sinking feeling of helplessness.

Again. You find yourself sprinting, but everything's different now. You've adjusted to a world where the dead walk, and you're not sprinting in search of your missing girlfriend, but in the safety of your life as a large herd of walkers follow behind you.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you navigate through the abandoned streets, constantly on edge. The once bustling city now lies in ruins, with crumbling buildings and streets littered with debris.

The silence is only broken by the shuffling footsteps of the undead behind you, a constant reminder of the world's grim reality.

You break through an alley, which leads to a forest. The dense foliage offers a temporary respite from the chaos and decay of the city. As you enter the forest, the air becomes crisp and filled with the scent of earth and pine.

The sunlight filters through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor, providing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that surrounds you.

Yet you keep sprinting. Run. Run. Run. The sound of your pounding footsteps echoes through the trees, pushing you to keep going and outrun the horrors that lurk behind. Your heart races in your chest, fueled by adrenaline and the desperate need to find safety.

You try to stop in your tracks as you realize you're being cut off by another herd of walkers that slowly but surely make their way towards you.

Panic sets in as you frantically search for an escape route, your mind racing to find a solution. The sound of their moans grows louder, urging you to make a split-second decision that could mean life or death.

Shit! You feel something grab onto you, sending a jolt of fear through your body. You turn around to see a walker reaching out, its decaying fingers inches away from your face. Instinctively, you fight back, desperately pushing it away and breaking free from its grasp.

Suddenly, a shot rings through the air, and the walker falls down. You spin around, searching for the source of the shot but finding no one. A branch breaks north-west of you, causing you to tense up.

You realize that you're not alone and that there may be more danger lurking nearby. Your heart races as you weigh your options, unsure of whether to investigate or quickly make your escape.

But it's revealed to be a dark-haired girl, "Hurry! This way, now." You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you can trust her. However, her urgency and the fact that she might have just saved your life convinces you to follow her lead.

Without wasting any more time, you sprint towards her, grateful for the unexpected help in this dangerous situation.

#reader insert #wattpad #tonyspank #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x gn!reader #tara carpenter x g!p reader #olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo x reader

[noahsbsf]

Ok, so I’m going to finally post this but here’s alenoah the COMPLETE essay: I’m just gonna be talking abt why these two should’ve been canon and showing you my evidence lol. (This is gonna be long so if you’re willing to read this ily)

First of All:

The aleheather plot did not make sense. This is a good ship, I’m not saying it’s bad. But, the volcano scene kinda made it weird. Imagine your confessing to the “love of your life” but then they make you infertile, kick you down a volcano, and are the reason you’re in a robot suit/ traumatized. (Oh but Heather did what she had to do!) LOOK, I’m not saying she didn’t serve in that scene, I’m saying that the fact he was able to brush it off like it was nothing? It just isn’t realistic. Even if he is MADLY in love with her. But then they sacrifice Noah and don’t do anything with him and his unfinished rivalry with Alejandro??

Also I just want to mention the fact that these two would NOT work out after total drama. According to Marco Grazzini (Alejandro’s voice actor, TDWT):

Which I do agree with 😭 I do think that a relationship with 1 narcissist can work (let’s face it, one person in a relationship is more narcissistic than the other. Or not idk.) But if two people are the narcissists in the relationship, it can eventually lead to a break up. Now, you might be wondering why I’m talking about aleheather (understandable). I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want the aleheather shippers attacking me and how they just don’t really make sense to me as well. And also I don’t want people saying “BUT ALEHEATHER IS SUP-“ stop. (But wait! Shouldn’t you talk about Nemma then?) I’ll get there dw.

Second of All:

Alejandro and Noah had SO MANY weird interactions. No joke. I know a lot of people like to say they didn’t, but trust me, they did. And here’s some proof:

THIS IS NOT A NORMAL LOOK PEOPLE. Honestly, that look on Noah’s face kind of reminds me of som..oh right that’s the exact way he looks at Emma (AKA HIS CANON GIRLFRIEND) this entire interaction was out of nowhere. (Oh but what about the fact that this scene is probably showing how shady Alejandro is) well, every single time a scene like this happens with any other character, we usually get a confessional of Alejandro trash talking them. But did we get that confessional for this scene? In fact, did Alejandro ever directly talk about Noah? NO. NOT EVEN ONCE. Even during London, Alejandro never said one single thing bad about him.

OK SHORT ONE:

The fact that Alejandro mocked Lindsay with NOAH. Alejandro throughout this show has had a fake persona, but then this little comment kind of proved that Alejandro can be himself around Noah. They’re kind of like the same person after all. (I mean that in a “judgy” sense.)

I also want to point out that every challenge (except for London) and every occasion, these two are always next to each other. ALWAYS. They’re always close, they’re always giving each other looks, and tbh it makes so much sense. These two are really the only “sane” ones on team Chris. (Sami, are you SURE they’re always giving each other weird looks?Like-) Child here’s the lil collection:

London 🇬🇧 ☕️:

London was probably the most scripted episode EVER. The entire plot for Alejandro and Noah was so bad, it came out of nowhere. (But Sami, Noah didn’t trust Alejandro in ep 7! Don’t you remember?) ofc I remember Susie. It’s just, after ep 7, nothing was done. Like Noah hates Alejandro. That’s it. Then he bad mouths him in ep 13, Noah’s voted out. A lot more could’ve been done but the writers kill off Noah so more drama can start. After all, Noah’s just a side character, right?

THIS. LOOK.

This exact look is hurt. Pain. And any other dramatic thing I can think of. This entire scene just shows how much he trusted him. It’s like, when someone you truly care about, who you trust, backstabs you. They TRULY had something. (But Sami-) Before you even say “he was probably acting” lemme just show you something:

Right when Noah was abt to jump out the plane, he had a shocked look on his face, then realizes the cameras are on him, and quickly changes into a smirk. HE. WAS. NOT. ACTING. He was HURT. And the wasted potential for the rivalry they could’ve had also hurts. But of course, since this was 2010, there wasn’t any lgbtq couples allowed on CN at all ☹️.

FINALLY:

As much as I do love this ship I think that these two will never see the light of day. (Scratch that, they’re def never seeing the light of day.) These two are both in canon relationships, one of which I actually love! #multishipper. Nemma honestly doesn’t have any flaws and there’s really no reason to destroy a pretty sweet relationship. However, during TDWT I’d like to argue the fact that if CN wasn’t homophobic at the time and neither was fresh tv, then these two would’ve definitely been something. It was like fresh tv was trying to give us clues lol. And if the TD writers would’ve let Alejandro and Noah have a rivalry, then there would’ve been a lot more evidence of why these two should be canon.

Welp, there you go. There’s my entire essay. If you disagree with something or have anything to add you can comment down below! But keep in mind this took 2.5 hours soo…

#total drama #fypシ゚viral #td alejandro #idk how to tag this #alenoah #td noah #personal essay #im not okay #tdwt #please help #lol #love these two #make them canon #fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp #tumblr fyp #fypage #this took way too long

[bri-sonat]

Kisses Of Fire

Follow-up to Life Eternal

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Knight!Reader

Warnings: NSFW!! Major GoT spoilers, descriptions of violence & blood, angst, SMUTTY SMUT, oral sex, praise kink, semi-public sex, a tiny bit of angst again, fluff.

A/N: so as i was writing this i realized i totally made up my own timeline, oopsie, so i should clarify. the first two fics (enjoy the silence & life eternal) took place post the long night and pre the end. this fic catches up to that. this is (by my own opinion and admission) not my best work, but i've been working on it for so long and it's been approved for public reading, so, here it is. the finale. the end of our two beloved knights' love story. blah blah blah english is not my first language (obligatory warning). i hope the ending is satisfactory to all, enjoy!

big thanks to my dear bestie aron (@queerofalltrades) for reading through it and giving it the stamp of approval, and for helping me with the idea for this fic, without them, this fic wouldn't exist. and spouse heather (@pastanest) for helping me compact complicated GoT plot and for explaining more GoT customs to me.

It had been five months since that fateful night by the stables when your love had screamed after you with all her might with tears in her eyes. 

That had also been the last time she had communicated with you at all. 

You had sent her ravens, every Sunday for the past months, concluding your week, talking about your father's passing, and your mother. No message was ever sent back but your own, unopened and unread. Despite this you kept sending them, to keep your oath and to let her know you thought about her, every single day. 

In your messages to her, you often mentioned things you saw during your day that reminded you of her. Like the bright blue sky, equally as bright as her eyes and smile. The setting sun, just as beautiful and breathtaking as her. Any time you saw something dark blue, much reminding you of the unique armor she always donned. 

These small details were added for her to know that you hadn’t forgotten her and that she was always on your mind; had she read them, she would’ve been made aware of this fact. 

You couldn’t blame her for ignoring your messages. She was upset that you left, that you didn’t listen to her cries. That you had made her fall in love, and that you ripped her heart out of her chest. 

What you couldn’t understand, however, was her stubbornness, she knew you had no choice. In fact, she would’ve done the same had her father gotten ill, considering she’s his only heir. The only difference was she would’ve let you come with her; she would’ve begged you to. 

She would have hired you as her main bodyguard, as her master-at-arms, as Commander of her troops, she would have hired you as anything if it meant always having you at her side. Even as she ruled over Tarth. 

That was the difference between her and you, she had obligations and could not join you, even when she desperately wanted to, you, however, could join her. You weren’t sworn to anyone but your family, Brienne, and the Gods, there was work for knights everywhere, you could go wherever you wished. 

She went where her loyalties led her, and her loyalties always led her to the daughters of Lady Catelyn Stark. Despite the Lady’s murder at the red wedding years prior, the honorable blonde kept serving the daughters, because death did not release her from her vows. You admired her extreme loyalty and virtue, there weren’t many people like her left in the world you lived in, everyone was either greedy, monsters, liars, or all three. 

Your unopened scrolls started to pile up on your desk and you wondered how long she would keep this up. Your patience only lasted for so long and you couldn’t deny the pang of hurt that surged through you and your heart when yet another message was returned, unread. After a while, you started to wonder if she had even received your ravens at all. 

About one month after you had arrived at your family’s residence in Lemonwood, your father passed due to his illness, leaving you and your mother as the attendees of the family business. 

The four months that passed after that were spent keeping up the trade, meeting shipments at Planky Town as they came in from the Westerosi coast and the Free Cities of Essos, comforting your mother, and sending unrequited ravens to Brienne. 

To honor your duties as a knight, you offered your help to the Martell family, having history with them that went all the way back to your grandfather's childhood. The only living one of them called for you every now and then for advice, or just to help patrol around Sunspear. 

You were a familiar face for most, having spent a lot of time in the city growing up, and you recognized some people as well, stopping to have a chat with some; and others, you just gave a polite nod to considering where you knew them from. 

Brienne was a constant on your mind, even when you received the news one week after your arrival of Kings Landing crumbling, the deaths of Jaime and Cersei Lannister, and Jon Snow assassinating Daenerys Targaryen. 

A few weeks after the fall of the capital and the deaths, Prince Martell had to leave for unstated business in Kings Landing. He had asked you to look over things while he was away and you accepted, not inquiring what said business was about. 

He had returned about a week later and stated that Bran the Broken had taken the now melted Iron Throne and that The North had been established as an independent kingdom with Sansa as its ruler. The mention of her name brought forth memories of the last time you had spoken to her, recollections of Brienne, and eventually evocations of her by the stables. 

You had no news of your knight; you did not even know if she was alive. 

You desperately wanted to ask Prince Martell about Brienne. Just a simple, ‘My Lord, was there a tall blonde by Sansa Starks’ side?’ would have been adequate, but you hadn’t dared to verbalize the query in case the answer was no. If the answer was no, it meant that she was no longer alive, because your knight was always by the redhead's side as her sworn sword. 

Part of you hoped that if she had met her untimely death, you’d be notified; but had to come to terms with that there would be no reason for anyone to think of doing so. 

Around the same time of Prince Martell's return from Kings Landing, your raven returned, however, something was different this time. The bird carried both your scroll and another. You had hoped it was from Brienne, disappointment settled in when you saw that it wasn’t. 

The words on the Stark stationary were very few, only there to convey the brief piece of information necessary. Despite the lack of long and many sentences, the small amount was exactly what you needed to hear. 

“Brienne no longer resides in Winterfell. She has relocated to the White Sword Tower in Kings Landing. – Sansa Stark.”

She was alive. A flood of relief washed over you but was quickly replaced by sadness and confusion. She was alive but ignored your messages; and she was in the King's Guard, of course. 

You read the message again and detected that Brienne's and Sansa’s titles were missing in the message, meaning she had forsaken professionalism. This led you to the conclusion that she somehow knew about you and your knight's infatuation with each other. It gave you a sense of calmness, knowing that you would have been notified had she perished. 

It then broke your heart, realizing that the blonde couldn’t let go of her pride for one second to personally let you know of her relocating, she had to have someone else do it for her. You would have expected her to tell you so herself but apparently, that was too highly anticipated of you, so silly of you to think that she could be bothered to tell you personally, how unreasonable, how idiotic. 

There were whispers of a new Lord Commander, but no one knew who they were, only that the King's Guard now only consisted of two knights. You knew that Brienne was one of the members, considering her new residency but still had no idea who the Commander could be considering they had no distinguishing marks to tell them apart from the rest of the guard. 

So, until it was confirmed who had filled the position, it was unknown information and you made it a habit to spike your ears whenever you heard people mention ‘Lord Commander’ in conversation, hoping to learn what everyone was curious to know. 

——— 

Brienne’s life had been quite non-identical. She had spent the entire week after your departure mourning you. She noticed your absence in everything: her bed, her heart, breakfast, training, dinner, and the void was particularly draining after her patrols when your usual midnight meetings would occur. She had gotten used to your touch, now the only thing she felt was the cold hand of complete loneliness. 

During your stay, Brienne's squire, Podrick, had noticed the taller knight's infatuation with you and stayed away, giving you the space to speak uninhibitedly. You had not met him but had heard such wonderful stories of their adventures together. He instead lurked in the background, training with your love when you had split off during the day. 

With you gone, he had proven to be a comforting presence for Brienne, but the hole left inside of her was still gaping, a void that only you could seal. She trained him whenever she had free time, which was more often with you not there, and he grew stronger and stronger for each day that passed. 

Sometime after the Battle of Kings Landing, Brienne traveled to the Dragonpit to represent Tarth in the trial of Tyrion Lannister. From what she had been told by Sansa whose opinion she valued most amongst those present at the trial, Daenerys had gone against his advice, he had then denounced himself as her Hand, resulting in imprisonment for his defiance. 

Jon Snow, who Brienne had come to conclude was a good man after the time spent with him at Sansa's side, had then had a conversation with Tyrion within the cell he was held in, before murdering Daenerys.  

During the trial, Brienne sat and listened to Tyrion as he advised the gathered council to elect a new King to decide his fate. Expressing his reasoning, he suggested Brandon Stark. At this, the blonde knight assented, as did everyone else. 

Brandon Stark then met Sansa’s demand for the North to once again become its own sovereign kingdom, as it was for thousands of years.  

Tyrion’s punishment, as decided by King Bran, was to reclaim his position as Hand to the monarch and amend his previous mistakes in the same position, under previous rulers, for the rest of his life. Though the Lannister strongly opposed this idea, that only made the punishment more just, as, to him, it was not the reward that many would take the position to be. 

However, the minute Brienne had assented by saying ‘aye,’ she was ashamed to admit how little of her attention she devoted to the trial due to her mind being occupied by thoughts of you, but alas, that was her fate. She was well aware of the people around her and what decisions were made but she couldn’t have cared less. 

She had acknowledged your ravens, she just didn’t have the strength to open them, to read about your life without her. She knew she was being unreasonable, and she chastised herself for it. Despite how well aware she was of her unwarranted and irrational behavior, she ignored them, but you just kept sending them and it got harder and harder for Brienne to just leave the inviting scrolls; however, she knew it would only hurt her more to read about your Dorne adventures. 

In hindsight, however, those messages would’ve been something much more joy-inducing to have of yours, compared to the only thing she had in her possession. 

After the trial, Bran had approached Brienne, and offered her the position of Lord Commander in his Kings Guard, he was a very blunt man, the King, and she had been a bit surprised with just how candid he was. She had managed to hide her initial reaction and had humbly accepted his offer. Sworn the oath at the Stark’s request and stated that her squire is yet to be knighted and that she would do so with haste. 

Podrick was ready and had been for a while, but she was called to Kings Landing for the trial before she had the opportunity to knight him. This worked out in his favor however, considering being knighted by someone from the King's Guard and the Lord Commander of it, was seen as prestigious; and would earn him substantially more respect than if she would’ve knighted him when she was still a knight herself. 

The King had nodded at her declaration, “I will ask Sansa to have someone pack up and send your belongings here. Tell your squire to come see me as soon as he is a knight. In the meantime, I believe we have some measurements to get for your new armor.” 

“Your Grace, there is no need for that. I have no belongings in Winterfell I’d like to keep. I brought everything important with me.”  

“Are you sure, Lord Brienne?” 

“Yes, Sire.” 

“Very well. Now, come with me.” 

Podrick, who had followed Brienne from Winterfell to Kings Landing, had been approached by the taller knight the day after the trial. 

He had a puzzled expression on his face as he watched her and she knew he had a question to ask, she would have preferred if he had kept his mouth shut about it but had allowed him to ask it anyways; regretting it as soon as he spoke. 

“Lord Commander?” Hesitant in his tone, he had looked up apologetically at Brienne with the hope that she wouldn’t scold him for granting his inquisitiveness to take over. 

“Yes, Podrick?” She stared down at him and she could almost see the gears that had been turning in his head; looking for the most well-mannered way to phrase the words that followed. 

“I apologize for what I am about to ask but I am afraid curiosity has gotten the best of me. Whatever happened with the knight from Dorne?” She released a sigh, there it was. 

“I do not wish to speak of them, not because there is anger but because there’s too much pain.” Brienne had remained stoic in her answer and in her facial expressions, but her insides had been bleeding, almost like she had been impaled by a sword and left to die, bathing in a pool of her own blood. 

That was the first and only time she and Podrick ever spoke about your departure. The shorter man had opened his mouth to say something else but was quickly interjected by Brienne. “Come along Podrick. There’s something we need to do.” 

“Yes, My Lord.” 

As they walked through the ruins of Kings Landing, Brienne wondered if she should’ve been the one to send a raven to inform you of her move to another kingdom, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do so. 

She had instead asked Sansa if she would send one, to which she agreed. The redhead had seen the affection you held for each other and knew that there was more to your seemingly professional relationship. Brienne hadn’t known the reason for the Stark’s compliance but was grateful for it either way. 

All the memories that had been created in Winterfell were painful for Brienne and she found it almost relieving that she didn’t have to return, there was too much sadness there. She did not know when you would return to her, even if it had only been around one month since you had left, so leaving all the woeful memories behind was easier than she had thought. 

The happier ones were harder though, the memories in the courtyard, her room, the mess hall, the bathhouse, your room. The room where she had found the letter that changed everything. 

She had kept the note. It was now stained with dried tears, the paper damaged by the salty drops; ink smudged in various places. She kept it somewhere safe, out of sight from wandering eyes but close by. 

It was read every single night with tears in her eyes before she went to sleep, desperately trying to remember what your voice sounded like, to no avail. 

She had brought it with her to Kings Landing for the trial, not wanting to leave without it. Reading through your words had become routine, and it had gotten to the point where she could not sleep if she did not read your letter before bed. It was one of the first personal items to take its home in her new living quarters.  

Brienne and Podrick had walked in silence as he took in the crumbled kingdom. The fire had stopped but the damage was still apparent. Blackened remains of destroyed buildings and dried blood on the ground. 

The charred corpses had been moved the day before, given a proper burial in unmarked graves, at Tyrion’s request. To have it done within a day, the blue-eyed knight had assisted; her strong arms able to carry double the weight. 

It had been a grisly sight, and even Brienne, who had seen plenty of violence in her days, had felt a hint of nausea and sorrow go through her at the sight of the destruction. The smell hadn’t made it any better. 

The two had turned a corner and Brienne entered a large building that surprisingly hadn’t been affected by the attack, far enough away from the dragon's path of destruction. The room had been dimmed, rays of sun coming in from the small windows lining the walls; standing along it was Tyrion, his small form lurking in the darkness. 

The tall knight stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, Podrick had done the same a couple of feet behind her to avoid crashing into Brienne’s back. 

“Tyrion is here to bear witness. I told him that there was no need, but he insisted.” Her voice had been flat, stern. She had turned on her heels, faced him, and pulled out her sword from its sheath, the metal scraping against metal had echoed, the sound bouncing between the bare walls. 

“Kneel, Podrick Payne.” He had gotten down on one knee in front of Brienne, gazing up at her, and she had proceeded to lay her sword on his left shoulder, her eyes boring into his. “In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.” 

She had shifted the metal of her blade to his right shoulder, carefully placing it down, mindful of the sharpness of the sword's edge. “In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.” 

She had switched shoulders again, the metal of the sword gliding in the air. “In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.” She placed her sword back into her scabbard before she had stated her last words, “Arise, Podrick Payne, a knight of the Six Kingdoms.” 

One month after your departure, Brienne had knighted Podrick. After this, she and Tyrion took him to see Bran, just as he had requested one day prior. The King had asked him to prove his fighting skills, suggesting he spar against his teacher, “Lord Brienne has trained you and I have no doubts in her skill, I am sure you are more than qualified. It is just a formality. I’m sure you understand, Ser Podrick.” 

“Of course, your Grace.” 

They had stepped out into a large somewhat empty clearing to give the two knights the space they required, and Podrick had proved his swordsmanship by fighting the blonde, King Bran being more than satisfied after seeing him hold his own against Brienne’s powerful blows. 

“That’s quite enough. I can tell Lord Brienne would floor you if we kept going and I need you both in prime health. Approach and kneel.” 

Podrick, who had read every book the word ‘knight’ was mentioned in and who had Brienne teach him everything she knew, had gotten down on one knee, and sworn the oath of the King's Guard, just like the tall woman had the day before. 

“I swear to ward the King with all my strength, and give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold on lands, father no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honor.” 

“Arise.” 

With this, Podrick had been integrated into the King's Guard and Tyrion had taken him away for measurements. Brienne had asked Bran what she was to do until the resources for reparations arrived, and he had in turn told her to assess the damage done to the armory, and see if anything needed to be replaced. And to update the Book of Brothers: to complete Jaime’s entry, and add her own. She had done so with haste. 

Two weeks later, the supplies arrived in Kings Landing which was still in ruins. She, together with Tyrion, had met them at the Gate of the Gods, which was a large hole in a wall after the dragon attack, clad in her new shiny gold armor with extensive white enameling and a white cloak draped over her tall form. 

She had come to stand by Tyrion’s side to discuss something, but he had asked her to stay when she moved to leave his side, it was mostly so she could act as a waypoint, of sorts, for the convoy. It was also so he could analyze her up close. 

The small council had held a meeting and discussed what would come next, the reparations of the kingdom had been a unanimous agreement. They had wanted to rebuild the brothels first, but Brienne had quickly expressed her disapproval at the thought of prioritizing them over the rebuilds of the royal fleet, which clearly took precedence due to the lack of ships following the war. 

The four months that followed after the arrival of the supplies were filled with Brienne overlooking some of the construction whenever she didn’t have anything else to do and performing her Lord Commander duties; whatever they ended up being, they varied from larger decisions to smaller ones. 

Some days she just spent her hours in the armory, polishing and sharpening every sword; and some she spent in the White Sword Tower, either re-reading previous entries in the Book of Brothers or residing in her quarters. 

She was so busy with her new duties that she did not have the time to respond to your ravens, even if she could gather the emotional strength to do so. 

Five months after your separation, Bran had requested her attention, sending Tyrion to collect her. 

He had found her in the armory taking inventory of the same gear she had checked the day before. When asked, she told everyone it was to ‘make sure no one stole anything’ but it was really to keep her mind occupied with something other than you who plagued her mind day in and day out, even in her slumber. 

“The King wishes to speak with you, Lord Brienne.” Tyrion interrupted her almost obsessive counting, arriving when she had finished sharpening the last sword. He stood in the doorway as he watched her get up from the stool she was sitting on, put away the sword she was holding, and walk towards him. 

“Of course, Lord Hand. Lead the way.” 

The walk was quiet, for the most part. Brienne was content with the silence, Tyrion; not so much. 

“Forgive me for being informal, Lord Commander, but; what is the matter with you?” The question staggered Brienne, her entire being stalling for one second, too stunned to move, before she continued her prior movements, resuming her stroll by the shorter man's side. 

“Pardon?” She knew exactly what he was referring to. Her behavior had been strange, to say the least. Erratically counting and whetting, staring off into space, and getting lost in her own thoughts. Brienne had always been a bit unusual and turned in towards herself, but it had been even more so these last couple of months. 

“Brienne. I can promise you that no one is stealing weapons from the armory during the night in peacetime. The armory which, need I remind you, is locked up with you as the key holder. So, what the hell is your issue?” Tyrion had stopped right outside the building Bran was currently in, glaring up at Brienne with furrowed brows and caring eyes. 

“I-” she released an elongated sigh, “I do not wish to talk about it. What does the King need to speak to me about?” Switching the subject to the reason she was standing there with him in the first place, hoping to remove herself from the theme she wasn’t entirely comfortable conversing with Tyrion about. 

The shorter man let out a sigh, admitting defeat, knowing he wasn’t getting anything out of her. “I do not know. He did not tell me.”  

“Very well.” With this, Brienne pushed past the shorter man who was left standing in place, annoyed at the taller woman’s stubbornness, which seemed to be an ongoing theme nowadays. 

Her white cloak flowed behind her as she navigated her way through the corridors, her steps echoing in the empty hallways. 

“Lord Brienne!” Bran called her name as she entered the room he was residing in, stopping what he had been doing before she arrived, “I’m glad you’re here. I have something to ask of you.”  

The blonde knight quickly kneeled before him and he just as quickly ushered her up to her feet, claiming there was no need for such formalities. Brienne didn’t quite understand why but complied either way. “Sire, what can I do for you?” 

“I need you and Ser Podrick to escort a shipment from Planky Town. You will travel there by ship, collect the shipment, and bring it back. I’ve already spoken to Davos, and he has given you temporary command of one of his ships. It’s an incredibly rare material and I need my best men on it. I know it’s different from your usual duties but treat this mission the way you would any other.” 

The thought process that went through Brienne's head after Bran had started speaking was: Planky Town – Dorne – you. There was a hurricane of emotions whirling around inside of her that destroyed anything in its path, and as in every hurricane, the eye was quiet, which allowed her to process the whirlwind. 

She was ecstatic at the opportunity to finally visit Dorne, and maybe, if the Gods were good, cross paths with you. She was also guilty and terrified at the thought of meeting you again. Running into you after ignoring your messages for months would surely prove to be an unpleasant experience. You’d surely be angry, disappointed, and upset; all at her. But at least she would get to see you, even if it was with you staring daggers her way. 

Her mind was racing, running faster than it ever had and Brienne couldn’t keep up. Until a noise ripped her out of her thoughts, permitting her to catch up to her sprinting brain. The door behind her opened and closed, signaling that someone else had entered the room. This was when she realized she had been standing still and in silence for far too long, Bran looking at her with an unreadable expression as he waited for her response. 

“Yes. Of course, Your Grace. When do we depart?” Brienne remained as professional and stoic as usual, even when her mind was anything but. She had zoned out again, become lost in her own thoughts like a scared little girl getting lost in the woods with no way out. 

“Tomorrow at sunrise. Be at the docks by then.” 

“Yes. Anything else?” 

“No. You are dismissed, Lord Brienne.” After vocalizing the command, Bran looked away from the Lord Commander and went back to his previous activity. Whatever that was hadn’t been observed by the blue-eyed knight, and she simply couldn’t be bothered to find out. 

She bowed before taking her exit, passing Tyrion as she left the room. He looked at her warm-heartedly, giving her the smallest of smiles and a small nod which she didn’t reciprocate, a scowl painted on her lips. 

If she wasn’t so focused on keeping the hurricane inside of her in check, and on preventing any tells to leak out of her hardened exterior onto her face, she would have given him the same back. Instead, she just kept her mind set on maintaining a straight face. 

The second the heavy door closed behind her, she let the stone face fall, and an intrigued smile replaced her former frown. Her booted footsteps echoed in the barren hallways as she went back the way she came, her long white cloak floating behind her. 

“Dorne, huh?”  

——— 

You rolled up what must have been the twentieth message for Brienne, before strapping the scroll to your raven. It was a warm day in Lemonwood, as it was every day in Dorne, the Summer Sea waves hitting against the cliff side breaking the pleasant silence of the early Sunday morning. 

Your raven, Bartholomew (actually named Branoc by your parents, but you thought that was a little bit boring), was sent on its way and you sat at your desk, watching the bird as it flapped its coal-black wings, carrying yet another message for your love. 

The usual distant bustling noise of Planky Town had yet to begin, it was still too early but you and your mother had a shipment to meet. No rest for the traders. 

Your family had since your great-great-great grandfather been a part of a large trading company, landing you as one of the wealthier families in Westeros.  

The business had been passed through generations and now it had landed on your mother's lap. You were delighted to assist her for however long she needed you but the longing and yearning for Brienne’s touch was getting to be too much. You needed to get back to her. 

Sighing, you put your stationary, ink, and quill away, before rising from your seated position at your desk. The armor you had worn in Winterfell had been swapped out for a more heat friendly one. Specially crafted to allow breathing and protection, the Dornish colors decorate the leather gear. 

It rested on the stand in your room, the fur coat and cold-resistant steel armor gathering dust in one of your closets. You hadn’t laid eyes on either of the items since you disregarded them five months ago. 

The trip here had been a long one, riding along Kings Road before turning onto Rivers Road; before finally arriving in Lannisport just west of Riverrun. Once there, you were able to hop on one of your family’s trading ships, taking you back to Planky Town. 

The only comfortable way to Dorne when traveling from another kingdom, was by ship. The terrain and road through the Red Mountains were unforgiving and extremely hard to traverse and there was no way you were putting yourself through that. The ride through the barren desert after the mountains wasn’t all that inviting either. 

The difference in climate had hit you right away, the searing sun of Dorne not quite the same as the biting chill of The North. Your fur coat had been discarded soon after passing The Trident and turning onto the road that led you to your destination. It rained moderately in the Riverlands, therefore, you had to take it off to insure its dryness.  

When it started raining, like you had expected it to do, you had to take a break, seeking shelter under the protecting crowns of the trees. The fur coat proved quite useful as an extra blanket during the cool nights, and you pretended that it was the warm embrace of Brienne enveloping you instead of the cloak. 

After you had boarded the ship in Lannisport, you were able to take off your armor for the first time in days, letting the cool breeze of the sea wash over you. The familiar salty smell of the ocean reminding you of your childhood. 

The sound of knocking on your door pulled you out of your reminiscent state. Quickly pulling yourself to the present, you took large strides toward your door and opened it in a swift and controlled motion. 

You were met with the weary and tired eyes of your mother, she hadn’t slept well since the passing of your father, and you couldn’t blame her, neither had you. 

The sleeplessness was a combination of the grief from losing your father and the loss of Brienne's warmth. You had slept in her arms only once, but that singular time was enough to have your body aching for more affection from the tall blonde woman. 

Most of this you wrote about in your messages. The messages she couldn’t even be bothered to open because if she did, she would realize you missed her so. That you would leave as soon as you weren’t needed, and that you would return to her arms as fast as humanly possible. 

“Good morning, Mother.” Your voice was softer than usual, it always was around your mother nowadays, scared that any other tone would disrupt the mourning process she had begun. 

Her voice was weak, frail. Throat hoarse from crying, “Good morning. Just wanted to see if you were awake.” She did this every morning. Checking up on you. She did it when you were growing up and continued doing so when you returned. It was an even more comforting action this time around, serving as a reminder that you had each other to lean on. 

“I am, have you eaten?” Your mother's eating habits had been on the rocks lately, too busy with the business that she simply forgot to eat, sometimes she didn’t want to, her appetite gone. So, you asked her, every day, if she had eaten. Sometimes she said yes, sometimes she said no. 

“Yes. Have you?”  

You hummed in response to her question, “I ate when I woke up, I’m ready to go when you are. I’ll just need to gear up.” 

Your mother nodded, “I will wait for you in the carriage.” With this, she turned around and left. Making her descent down the carpet-clad stone stairs. 

After closing the door, you walked to your armor stand by your window that overlooked the Summer Sea and began removing each piece, attaching them to your form. 

As you put on your leather armor, you watched as ships of many different sizes sailed past your window, floating on the sea in the searing hot Dorne sun. The sun's rays invaded your room, casting it a beautiful golden glow, and warming your skin; the pleasant smell of the sea like a comforting blanket over you. 

Some of the sailing ships came from the west and some from the east. Some were sailing for trading companies, and some were sailing for travel. Their flags and sails fluttered in the warm air, hulls breaking through the water. 

Eventually, all the leather gear had been secured to your form, the last part had been your sword, and with everything in place, you abandoned your room; briskly walked down the same stairs your mother had, and stepped out into the warmth of the morning. 

Your mother stood by the carriage, conversing with the coachman. The sight of you approaching interrupted their conversation, the coachman opening the door to the roofed wheelhouse. Allowing your mother to enter and closing it once she had sat down inside. 

The carriage did not have any windows except for some small springs, meaning you didn’t have a good view of the scenery and environment around you. So, to make sure you were able to keep a look out for potential dangers, you sat up front with the coachman. 

You did not mind doing so however, he was a very interesting man with many stories to tell and you often enjoyed the chats you had with him. 

The ride to Planky Town wasn’t long, your ancestors chose to settle in Lemonwood for the short travel distance, taking into account that the port was a regular visit. 

On the way there you passed several travelers, and you recognized most of them as inhibitors of the other nearby settlements. You didn’t know any of them particularly well, only having met them a few times during formal events. Still being familiar with them and wanting to show civility; short pleasantries were exchanged before continuing your journey. 

It didn’t take long for the lively sound of the now awake port town to reach you, the familiar sight of the Greenblood river opening its mouth in front of you, running out into the vast sea. 

As every Sunday, it was reserved for shipment collection, meaning it wouldn’t be as busy as it usually was the rest of the weekdays. Despite this, there was still a large number of people going about their business of resupplying or trading. 

The coachman stopped your carriage a distance away from the docks as he usually did to prevent blocking the road. He stepped off to open the door for your mother, who had stayed silent during the ride as she usually did. 

You stepped off after him, watching your mother exit the wheelhouse, and walked up to her side, hand on the hilt of your sword and back straight. You were here as a traders’ child, yes, but you were also a knight. 

It wasn’t often that you were asked to make your rounds down here, yet on rare occasions you were. Even when you weren’t here on such business you still wanted to keep up appearances, you knew Brienne would. 

Shooting your coachman a nod and a smile, you linked your mothers' arm with your own and started trekking toward the docked ships. “Is it the usual today?” Wanting to make conversation, you asked your mother something that would pull her out of the damaging mindset she had surely found herself in. 

“Yes. Meet the shipment, and see that everything is as it should, some is unloaded here to be sold, rest is shipped to other port towns to be distributed by our partners.” It was like clockwork by now, and you knew it by heart, your mother knew that you did and found it kind of you to ask. She knew why you did and appreciated the distraction from her thoughts. 

A quick hum was all you gave in response, your steps taking you closer to the harbor until you reached the docked trader ship. Letting go of your mother's arm you turned to look at her, “I will stay on land and take a look around. Wait here until I come back.” 

She gave a quick nod before she stepped onto the wooden vessel, you saw your mother meet the captain and he in turn gave her the inventory list for her to check off. You began turning on your heel to walk away but before you could, something caught your eye. A ship from the royal fleet. 

It hadn’t been the ship in itself that stopped you, it had been the person you saw on board it. You had seen her faster than you cared to admit, almost like your eyes had been searching for her. 

She was standing as robust as she had done the first time you saw her when you first arrived in Winterfell. Her hands behind her back, the wind blowing through her short blonde curls; the white fabric that draped down her figure danced in the Summer Sea wind. 

She stood on the quarter deck, donned in her gold-white armor that reflected the sunlight, she looked so handsome in it, so at home. She was a White Sword, this you were aware of, but you were still nonplussed to see it, to have it verified. 

You were so used to seeing her in her dark armor. The dark armor that she had worn during the duration of your stay, the armor that you had begun to associate with her. Seeing her in anything else but, was an abnormal sight. 

As the ship inched closer and closer to the docks, you saw that there was detailing on her chest piece, a raven. Fitting for the three-eyed ravens' Kings Guard. 

From what you could percept, Oathkeeper still sat loyally at her side, and you wondered how she had taken the news of Ser Jaime's death. You knew that they had been... relatively close, she had described their relationship as ‘an unexpected companionship,’ which was really her fancy (and courteous) way of saying ‘it was a war, he was an extra sword, we spent time together because we had to.’ 

Truth was, Brienne didn’t take the announcement of his passing that hard. Still too focused on the loss of you. In her mind, she had tolerated Jaime, not seeing him as a close friend, and therefore did not feel the need to mourn him. 

The grief from your departure was still a fresh wound in her heart and even if she did feel the need to shed tears for him, it would be too overwhelming to do so for two people at the same time, and she refused to put you aside to lament Jaime Lannister who meant so little to her. So, it was an easy choice for her. You took precedence over everything else. 

You were frozen in place, watching her as she stood tall and proud. Anger bubbled up inside of your chest, along with sadness and betrayal. Yet at the same time, you were so gleeful to see her again after such a long time, and even though you wanted nothing more than to run into her embrace; the fact that she hadn’t responded to your ravens in months stood true. 

You didn’t want to see her, and you did not want to speak with her. With the feelings running amuck inside of you, you feared that if put face to face with her you’d say some things that you couldn’t take back. Hurting her even more than you had already done; ruining any chances of ever reconciliating and returning to each other's arms. For now, the best choice was to leave and blend in with the crowd before she could spot you, but it was too late. 

The second her ship had docked, and she had stepped onto land, she had seen you. Her intense blue eyes locked on to yours and the moment they did, they flashed with what looked like regret and guilt. 

It was too much to handle, the same blue irises that kept you up at night, that haunted your dreams, were now staring at you in such a way that made your heart twist inside of your chest. 

Her mouth was hanging open the tiniest bit, eyebrows furrowed. She was surprised to see you. If there weren’t so many thoughts swirling around in your head, you were sure that you would match her expression, shocked to see her down here. Shocked to see her at all. 

Your head was a battle arena, your thoughts fighting, trying to bring you back to your senses, to help you make a decision, and fast. The one who ended up coming on top was the one for before, the one telling you to leave; the one telling you to run to her getting left in the mud. 

You started to walk towards the crowd, planning to disappear in the swirl of people but Brienne was taller than most people there and was able to periscope over everyone, meaning you and your Dornish leather armor stood out like a beacon on a dark night. 

She started to follow you, Podrick trailing behind her trying to keep up with her broad strides. The continuous stream of people helped with keeping a distance between the three of you, but there were only so many traders and merchants, and you eventually reached a clearing, close to where your carriage was parked. 

There was no hiding from her now. 

The familiar voice of Brienne called your name, shivers running down your spine at hearing it for the first time in five months. You had forgotten what she sounded like, just how beautiful and deep her voice was, how the accent compliments it in the most fantastic way, working in harmony to make everything she said sound like poetry. 

“Stop!” you didn’t obey her command, instead, you kept moving forward. Her steps picked up, her long legs faster than yours, and before you could process her closing in on you, her hand grabbed your wrist, pulling at it slightly causing you to abruptly stop, and turn around. 

Suddenly, the only thing in your vision was her piercing eyes as they searched your face for any sign of forgiveness, love, or adoration; only finding the same stone-cold expression you had worn when your eyes met minutes ago. 

She had hoped that her proximity and touch would bring back the soft expression you used to have for her. It did not. Instead, you rejected her touch. Ripping your wrist away from her grasp, almost aggressively so, almost like her touch was hot coal burning you through your protective leather gear. 

She gazed down at you, a silent plea behind them for you to speak to her, to say anything. Just wanting to hear your voice. You in return stared up defiantly at her, displaying your anger by taking a step back, distancing yourself from her. She took this as a confirmation that you had become repulsed by her, just like everyone else; her weakness and pure selfishness had caused you to despise her. 

In truth, the moment she had gotten close, the all too addicting scent of her had invaded your senses, making it so much harder to stay focused. The step back was to display anger, yes, but also to step away from the inebriation that was the smell of Brienne. 

“Ser Brienne.” You spoke stiffly, your face full of indifference. She remained neutral, but to you, she was an open book. The way you said her name hadn’t gone unnoticed by the blonde, and you saw the flash of hurt in her eyes when you said her name. The usual affection you held for her wasn’t there anymore, and she completely understood why. 

She opened her mouth to say something, getting interrupted by Podrick before she could, “It’s actually Lord Commander-” Brienne held up a hand, successfully interrupting him back, but not before you heard her new title. Lord Commander, huh? 

“Ser Podrick! Do you not recognize them?” So, this was the Podrick you had heard so much about. He was shorter than you expected him to be, but maybe that was because he stood next to one of the tallest people in Westeros; she made anyone look short. 

She had broken your eye contact to stare at the younger knight with her usual glare. He looked at you once again, observing you. The second it clicked; his mouth fell open in a silent ‘oh.’ He cleared his throat before mumbling a silent apology to both you and Brienne. 

“Go and wait for the shipment. Leave us.” The Lord Commanders' voice was harsh, leaving no room for objections. 

“Yes, My Lord.” He rushed off, leaving you and Brienne alone. She turned her head back to yours the instant Podrick disappeared out of sight into the flow of people. 

“Lord Commander?” The voice that exited your mouth was incredulous. You couldn’t believe your ears. She had been appointed the highest position in the King's Guard and secured a spot on the King's Council, and you hadn’t been informed. The love of your life hadn’t told you of a major update in her life. 

“Yes.”  

“You were appointed Lord Commander of the King's Guard and I find out today. How long?” You almost did not want to ask. Not wanting to know how long she had been keeping this from you. 

You hoped she would say 'a couple of weeks’ or ‘about a month’ because then you would understand the lack of communication. You were understanding of the task of taking on a new title and the job that came with it. If she was in the beginning phases, you would have understood. Instead, you were greeted with the opposite. 

“About four months...” 

“Four months-! You are unbelievable, Lord Commander.” You spat her title back at her, there was such wretchedness in your voice, such wrath. What you had feared was just a couple words ahead, the fear that you would say something that would be irreversible. There was no closing the gates of Hell now. 

“Please just call me Brienne, like you used to.” Her voice had shifted into a gentler one, attempting to diffuse the situation. You scoffed at her. Was she really trying to ‘go back to the way it used to be’ after making no effort in communicating with you at all? 

“I don’t know if I want to refer to you as anything anymore.” There it was. The gates had been opened, and anything coming out after this was meant to hurt. Meant to drive a knife into her stomach and twist it. Disbelief spread through your being, so irritated at her for just assuming you’d forget everything that had happened. Both of which were perceivable in your tone. 

“Please, if you would just let me explain-” Desperation was evident in her voice, her entire face softening, her eyes imploring for you to please listen, to please forgive her. But you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear her excuses; not before you had said your piece. 

“Explain what, huh? Explain how you couldn’t let go of your pride to send me something back? A simple ‘hello, it is I, Brienne of Tarth,’” you tried your best to copy her speaking voice, it falling short, “once a month would have sufficed because then I would have known that you were alive!”  

You took a breath before continuing, keeping your voice steady, tears threatening to well up. 

“Instead, I had to get that sign of life from Sansa! Do you understand how much that pained me? That you could not let go of your stubbornness for two seconds to let me know of your damn relocation to Kings Landing by yourself! Why?” Glaring up at her, you panted, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. 

“I couldn’t bring myself to read about your life without me…” Her voice was quiet, almost like she was ashamed to admit her reasons for not responding. At her admission, your wrath eased up. You weren’t furious at her anymore, but there was still the agonizing pain of being ignored by someone who you love so much, and whom you care for so. “I know, it was unreasonable, irrational, intolerant of me. I am aware.” 

She continued her explanation, “I really wanted to, read your messages, that is. Because I missed you terribly, and love you so, but it would have hurt too much. Then after I was appointed my new position and title I had so much to do, and I was so stressed, and I didn’t have the time to reply.” She was trying her best to stay strong, or at least for it to look like she was but she was moments away from a breakdown. 

You kept eye contact the entire time, seeing when tears were starting to form in her eyes, and you were suddenly extremely aware of how exposed you two were. “I’m sorry.” Her last words were a whisper, barely audible, voice breaking. 

She then broke eye contact, tilting her head down, fixing her gaze on the sandy ground. You glanced around you, seeing that your carriage was only a couple of feet away. It gave you the perfect escape plan. 

You took her by the hand, dragging her towards your carriage with a quick ‘come with me.’ The sudden, unexpected contact made Brienne’s head snap up, meeting the back of your head with her blurry vision. She needed privacy, you couldn’t let everyone see the Lord Commander break down in public, so you had to shelter her. It also provided you with a quieter place to speak. 

You asked the coachman to go make himself busy before ushering Brienne into the wheelhouse, you following suit, closing and locking the door behind you. Quickly covering all the springs in your immediate vision with its individual curtain. 

The second you sat down across from her, the dam broke. She buried her face in her hands as loud sobs wrecked through her, much like the ones you had heard by the stables as you rode away. 

Your anger and pain had quickly subsided when you had heard her entire reasoning, and when you saw how guilty she felt. There was no need to be mad at her, you didn’t think you could be anymore. 

Relieving yourself from your sword sheathe, you pondered, unsure if you should remain seated across from her, or if you should move to sit by her side. You couldn’t comfort her all those months ago, but you’d be damned if you didn’t do it now. 

Quickly maneuvering across the carriage, you took a seat next to Brienne, taking off her scabbard before throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to you, her becoming flush against your side. She hadn’t expected the abrupt intimacy, it was a welcome one, especially after feeling nothing for so many days. 

Her arms flew around your waist, her face burying itself into your leather-covered chest. Your free hand came up to Brienne’s head, softly stroking her hair as the other gently caressed her upper arm. Her armor made it a little lumpy, but you did not care. Having her back in your arms after so long was an incredible feeling, and you couldn’t believe how you had made it this long without her warmth. 

Her sobbing was relentless, tears flowing down her face and dropping onto your legs. Your leather tasset had gradually shifted down the side of your upper thighs in your seated position, revealing your tunic trousers underneath. 

Brienne repeated the same phrase, over and over again through wails. Saying how sorry she was, how she hoped you could forgive her. You in turn answered with reassurance. Telling her that you accepted her apology, that she was forgiven. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed when Brienne’s cries eventually died down, rendering the small space silent except for the occasional sniffles coming from the blonde beside you. Her head had been removed from your chest and she now sat upright. You still had your arm around her, hand resting on her armored bicep. 

The hand that had been stroking her hair was now holding hers, entwined hands resting in between yours and Brienne’s thighs. Your thumb lazily drawing lines on the scarred skin. 

“Are you alright?” The softness had returned to your voice, the love and tenderness had as well, and the Commander noticed. She was soothed by your question because it meant you still cared enough to check in on her. That lit a light in Brienne’s tunnel of misery; there was still something left to save, to rebuild. 

“Yes. Especially now that I’m back in your arms.” She turned her head to look at you, you doing the same and offering her a soft smile which she returned. As you took in her tear-stained face and red puffy eyes, you were smacked with the remembrance of your earlier words, words that shouldn’t have been uttered. 

  “I’m really sorry for what I said back there. I was filled with fury, and I didn’t mean it. I always want to refer to you, dear Brienne.” Voice low to avoid disrupting the peace, your voice was gentler. A strong contrast to the cutting tone you had used outside. You brought her held hand up to your face to place a peck on the back of it, relishing in the feeling of her skin against your lips once again. 

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it. I forgive you either way.” You dropped yours and Brienne’s hands into your lap and released a sigh of relief hearing her words. Silence settled in again as you gazed into each other's eyes. The blonde's sapphire blues darted down to your lips and back up to your eyes, just like they had that night in the courtyard almost one year ago. She wanted to kiss you, and you needed her to. “You know, I really did miss you. A lot.” It was nothing more than a whisper, a breath of desire. 

“Yeah, yeah. I missed you, too. Now shut up and kiss me, please.” Brienne giggled at your eagerness and avidity and was quick to oblige to your wish. She turned her body towards you, legs shifting to be able to face you as comfortably as possible, hand coming up to cup your cheek, head diving in fast to capture your lips, eyes falling shut before colliding. 

The second her lips connected with yours, a contented and allayed moan escaped Brienne’s throat. She had longed for, craved, and missed you for so many months, all the tension and sorrow built up inside of her melting away the moment your lips touched. It was even more heavenly than she had recalled. One of your hands flew up to the side of her neck, your body shifting to copy the way she sat. 

It was like you never left, lips moving together in familiarity. Brienne’s tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you granted it. Her wet, strong muscle started exploring your mouth the second you parted your lips. The feeling of her tongue wrestling with yours along with the familiar taste of her, made you release a low moan; she tasted even better than you had remembered. 

The taste of you, the feeling of your tongue sliding against hers, your soft whimpers as she expertly moved her lips with yours like a dance, elegant and controlled like a waltz, but passionate and heated like a tango. A dance of the love and yearning you contained for the other. All of it took over her senses, her brain going into overdrive, her mewling against your lips. 

The hand that was holding on to Brienne’s broke away from the grasp, moving to find purchase in the blonde's hair. It was already disheveled from the salty ocean wind, hair slightly curled from the humidity in the air; your hand running through it wouldn’t make it worse. It wouldn’t be odd for her hair to be out of place considering the strong coast gust. 

Your fingers started at the nape of her neck, slowly moving upwards until they stopped at the back, curling them in her tresses, gathering a fistful of her hair in your hand. Brienne hummed against your mouth at the feeling of your digits in her hair once again, and the hand that had been abandoned by yours grabbed onto your waist, palm gently resting on your side. 

Your lips pulled apart, but you still kept the contact, foreheads leaning against the others, eyes shut as you regained your breath. “I really did miss you. I was hoping to show you just how much...” Brienne spoke between heavy breaths. 

You did not miss the glint of seduction in her voice or the innuendo. During the make-out session the all too familiar heat grew between your legs and your body craved her touch, as it had for months. But right here, in a carriage in a port town when you both had responsibilities? 

“Brienne...” Breathing out her name and meaning to remind her of your current area; you weren’t able to complete the rest of your sentence before she interrupted you. 

“Look at me,” you removed your head from hers and opened your eyes, meeting Brienne’s that were already staring back at you, her blue irises as deep and breathtaking as the galaxy, filled with stars and planets of her own. They were truly remarkable and gorgeous; fitting for someone like her. “I have craved you for so long. I don’t know how long it will be until we meet again. Let me make it up to you. Let me erase the past five months of misery. Let me do this so we can have something to last us until we can guarantee proximity to each other. Please.” 

The hand in her blonde curls transferred to her cheek, gently holding and stroking her flushed skin with your thumb. Her eyes were pleading as was her voice, wanting to remove the memories of pain and replace them with ones of pleasure; and you wanted that too. 

You placed a soft kiss on her lips before nodding, “that sounds perfect. I’d love nothing more.” At your confirmation, Brienne’s lips turned up into the biggest grin much like the one she wore after your first kiss, and she was on her knees on the wooden floor shortly after; her hands resting on your legs. 

“I’ve never done this before. All I know is that I want to make you feel good.” She gazed up at you as she spoke. She was insecure, as was obvious in her voice and her eyes, but also determined, not letting uncertainty scare her away. “Tell me if it feels good and what I can do to bring you maximum pleasure.” 

“I will.” 

The woman on her knees before you started undressing you. Starting with your boots, before wedging her hands under your leather chest cover to unstrap your tasset that was hindering access to the buckle of your trousers. 

Throwing a look at the door to the carriage to make sure it was locked, you noticed that one of the springs hadn’t been covered by the sheer curtain. As you stood up to close it, Brienne’s fingers undid the metal of your pants, pulling them down at the same time as you pulled the curtain down. 

You were now completely out of sight; the problem was, so was the outside world, and if your mother decided to forego your escort to make the trek back herself; she’d find you in one hell of a position. 

You prayed to the old Gods and the new that your mother would stay put, or that inventory would take longer than usual so that she didn’t hear you reconnecting with your love. Sure, she knew about Brienne and the relationship you had, it was one of the first things you had talked about when you got home, but you didn’t want your mothers' first impression of the much taller knight to be her in between your legs. 

Brienne’s hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled down, causing you to meet the seat with an unexpected speed, she was impatient, and you understood why. She had already spent too much time away from her mission and Podrick, and sooner or later, he would come looking for her, and would no doubt find her considering her last known position and your family’s carriage being mere feet away. Time was of the essence, and you couldn’t afford to waste any of it. 

Heavy breathing came from the woman in front of you as she placed her hands back onto your knees and gently spread them, being faced with your soaked underwear. She had never seen your sex before, felt it, sure, but never seen. She hadn’t tasted you either and she was practically drooling at the thought of finally doing so. 

Tentative and curious hands slowly traveled up your legs, stopping at the hem of your undergarments. Hooking her fingers inside and motions for you to elevate your hips slightly. Lifting your hips for easy discarding, she pulled them down in one motion, revealing your needy cunt to her hungry, dilated eyes. 

She was if in a trance, watching with such intensity you feared her eyes would pop out of her skull. You nudged her shoulder with your knee, causing her to snap her gaze to yours. Her pupils were blown-out, darkened from lust and desire. The air was thick inside of the small space and you could practically sense her ferocity as it emanated from her person.  

She looked so pretty like this on her knees for you, looking up at you with virtuous eyes. So ready and willing to serve; to satisfy your needs. Reaching out a hand, you took hold of her chin, guiding her face closer to your core, she needed a little helping hand. “You look so good right now, pretty girl. On your knees for me. So ready to do whatever I wish, hmm.” 

Brienne could only offer a nod in response, your words and low, vibrating voice combined with your dominating tone. If she were standing, she was sure her knees would give out and she’d fall to the floor. But since she already was kneeling on the wooden boards, she gave out a tiny whine instead, forgetting just how much power your words had over her. 

The scent of your arousal was overwhelming, your pussy radiating such heat, Brienne being able to sense it all when you had brought her face close enough to the apex of your inner thighs, and she wanted nothing more than to taste you, something she had wanted for such a long time; completely missing out on her chance before you left. She thought she had all the time in the world with you, how was she supposed to know you were leaving the same night she had intended to feast on you. 

So, the fact remained: you had tasted her; she hadn’t tasted you and she was so desperate to finally know how your wet flesh would feel against her tongue. Desperate to gain familiarity with the sensation she thought she would have experienced months ago when she had planned it. 

After you had eaten her out and gotten into bed together, her mind had started wondering what you’d taste like and that she’d propose to perform oral on you the next day during your midnight meeting, but then you left, and she never did find out what you tasted like. 

Finally, five months later. She would finally know just how wonderful you’d taste. 

“Use your tongue, my sweet girl. Don’t be afraid to use your instincts.” You stroked Brienne’s skin softly before sliding your hand to the back of her head, leg coming up to lay on her shoulder, foot resting on her back. Your other hand was placed beside you, using the seat as support. 

She licked her lips, mumbling ‘what a pretty little pussy’ before finally diving in, shutting her eyes, and allowing her intuition to take over. She licked a careful stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling it slowly before closing her mouth around it, lightly sucking. Her tongue was a godsend, so strong and oh was she good at using it. 

You released a soft whimper, mindful to keep quiet considering your whereabouts but still wanting to let her know just how good she was making you feel. Your head leaned against the wall behind you, but your eyes were locked on Brienne’s between your legs, moving slightly as she used her skillful mouth on you. 

Your fingers grabbed at her hair, wanting to hold her in place as her tongue flicked over your clit and you refrained from pushing her closer; wanting her to do it on her own terms. You were sure that if she made you come with minimal help from you, her confidence would boost and that would exponentially heighten the chances of her giving head more often in the future, maybe even initiate it. 

Even though you wanted her to learn by doing, she had requested you to tell her how to make you feel good, and that was what you intended to do. 

Her arms were snaked around your thighs, hands resting where hip and leg met. She switched between sucking and licking, sometimes doing both, drawing out all kinds of noises from you. “Yeah. Just like that, baby. Just like that. You’re doing so good.” Even when she was pleasuring you, she was still submissive and in need of praise and assurance, and you were more than happy to provide all of those things for her. “Try- Try adding more pressure with your tongue.” 

A vibrating sensation exited Brienne’s mouth as she moaned against your clit at hearing your praise, causing your body to jerk and you to hold back a loud groan. She wanted to be validated, to be told she was doing a good job. This only applied to the sex part of her life, however, as she couldn’t care less about what other people thought of her, well, not anymore at least; her childhood self would disagree. 

The only person’s opinion she cared about besides maybe the professional opinions of her King, were yours. She wanted you to think highly and goodly of her, in all aspects of her life, be it professional, personal, or intimate, and you did. This she knew, it still felt good to hear you say it though. 

Brienne’s eyes which had been screwed shut the entire time suddenly opened, looking up at you with curious eyes. She wanted to see how you’d react to all of her following ministrations, fascination, and wonder glinting in her beautiful eyes. 

She took your advice and adjusted accordingly, placing her tongue flat on your clit with the pressure to go with and dragged her tongue up, making you drawl out a throaty moan. “Oh, Gods! Feels so fucking good, so fucking good.” Your words were slurred, your voice low to avoid it being heard by anyone else than Brienne, your heavy breaths and hums only growing more and more ragged as the woman betwixt your legs worked her wet muscle against you. 

You’d had your share of love affairs before but that was nothing compared to this. The feeling of getting eaten out by the love of your life was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Not even the meetings you used to have as a young adult in the local bathhouses felt as good as this did. 

Brienne was a beginner but a very quick learner, and she knew exactly how to pleasure you because she knew you and your body, playing it masterfully, playing it like an instrument; like she hadn’t done anything else. 

She was devoted to your pleasure, devoted to worshipping you and your pussy with her tongue. Nothing else mattered in this specific moment, only the feeling of your legs shuttering, your moany whimpers, and your fingers twisting in her hair did. 

The sounds inside the wheelhouse were right out of a brothel, moans mixed with the wet noises coming from Brienne as she used her mouth on you. She murmured against your clit, a whisper mostly to herself, but you had heard it too, “You taste so fucking good...” Her words combined with the intense eye contact made your head spin, your insides turning in the most pleasant way. 

Every stroke, lick, kiss, and suck from the blonde brought you closer to the edge of climax, the familiar warmth pooling in your stomach, legs twitching and hips bucking with every ripple of pure bliss that went through your body. The release was barreling towards you like a wild buck and you were so ready for the collision, ready to get sent into an endless vortex of pleasure. 

During the five months that you and Brienne had been apart, more and more tension began to build up inside of you, a knot forming in your stomach. You often found yourself thinking of that morning in the baths or the night before, and it never failed to make you a throbbing mess. You never found the time to rid yourself of it, so it just continued to grow, the knot only getting tighter. 

Months' worth of pent-up tension releasing would equal in an orgasm the size of a tsunami washing over you and you were made aware of this fact as the band inside of you tightened, and tightened, until it eventually snapped, untying the knot at the same time. 

Waves upon waves of ecstasy poured over you as your body convulsed with pleasure. Your back was arching, hips thrashing as you rode Brienne’s face to drag out your orgasm. Her hands that had been resting in the space between thigh and hip pushed down to keep you steadier, but still allowing you to grind against her mouth. 

The hand in the blonde hair loosened as you came down from your peak, stroking her messy curls instead, hoping to smooth down the mess you had surely made of her locks. Brienne had removed her head from your sex, drawing languid circles with her fingers on your skin. Gorgeous blue eyes gazing up at you with awe as they watched your breathing grow steady. 

The Lord Commander leaned back on her heels, your hand sliding off her head as she moved out of your reach, removing herself from your legs, sloping to grab your clothes. Her chin was covered in your juices, and you made a mental note to get that cleaned up before you left the carriage. 

She grabbed your ruined undergarments and reached out a hand to give them to you where you sat, the hand that had been placed flat on the wood beside you the entire session was brought up to push her hand away, “they’re already soaked, you might as well use them to wipe your chin.” A breathless chuckle passed your lips as you spoke, Brienne looking at you comically. 

She muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before using a dry part of the cloth to dry her chin, removing any trace of your activities. She reached out a hand with them again and this time you accepted them, putting them on and wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of your wet and cold underwear, luckily you were heading home as soon as your mother was finished, and you could change. 

Your trousers were handed to you shortly after to be put on and buckled, as well as your tasset, and finally your boots. 

“Come here.” Brienne did as she was told and shuffled close to you, kneeling down at your side so you were at eye level. “My beautiful girl,” bringing a hand up to her cheek, you traced her skin with your fingers, inching closer to her face to give her a kiss. 

It was a gentle one, soft and tender, and you could sense the taste of you on her lips. “I love you.” It was a whisper against her lips, a promise for now and the future until you could tell her every day. 

“I love you, too. I do not like the idea that we must leave each other once again,” Brienne let out a sad sigh and turned her head away from you to stare at the carriage door. You were not entirely happy with the situation either but there was nothing to be done until you were no longer needed. “Come with me.” 

Your eyes widened at her words. Had you heard her correctly? “W- What?” Shock was painted across your features, your voice trying to remain steady, but you were too taken aback to bother with that, slightly shaking with perplexity seeping through. 

She turned her head to look at you once again, her expression deadly serious. She wasn’t jesting or posing any what-ifs. “Come with me to Kings Landing. I will ask for King Bran’s attention and request for him to recruit you into the King's Guard. We need more knights, and I know you would be the perfect fit.” This was wishful thinking. The Kings Guard?  

Quickly exhaling and inhaling, your face furrowed together in empathy, you too shared her want to travel to Kings Landing and spend all eternity by her side until death released you from your vows, but your mother needed you. “Brienne, I-” 

“Yes. I know. Your mother. But, please, just. Just consider it.” Her eyes and words were begging, her eyebrows raised in hope, wishing that you’d say yes; that you’d consider it. 

“I will consider it.” The smile that spread on your Commander's lips was infectious, causing you to do the same. Her eyes lit up like stars in the night sky, twinkling just the same. They really were as deep and vast as the galaxy, holding just as many uncharted and unexplored areas. 

A knocking on the door caused you and Brienne to snap out of your staring competition, instinctively putting distance between each other, you shooting over to the other side and retrieving your scabbard, the woman across from you doing the same with hers. 

The muffled voice of the coachman came from the outside, signaling that you had been in there for far too long, “Ser! I think your mother is all finished and ready to leave. Is everything alright in there?” You took a quick look at Brienne, her curls strewn across her forehead, and you motioned for her to comb her fingers through her locks to tidy it up a little. 

“Yes, everything is quite alright. We are finished and are coming out. Thank you!” You and Brienne snorted at you using ‘finished’ considering you did just that, you were acting a little immature, laughing at such a thing; but you felt like young adults sneaking around and that earned a tiny bit of immaturity. 

The woman sharing your space looked at you questionably, a silent query asking ‘does my hair look okay?’ you nodding as an answer. 

Quickly pulling aside all the curtains inside the wheelhouse to let the light in, you gave Brienne one last long kiss before opening the door and stepping out into the hot Dorne sun. Your coachman stood outside, eyeing you both, obviously wondering what had taken so long but decided not to ask. 

“Walk with me?” Turning your head to look up at her, Brienne only nodded, letting you take the first step and her following you with steps to match your stride. She often did this when you walked together, coordinating her pace with yours so she wouldn’t race ahead and you not being able to keep up. It was a slight adjustment, but a very thoughtful one. 

When you approached the water-bound vessel your mother was on, she wore the biggest grin as she looked from you to Brienne, her expression a drastic change from the melancholic mood she had adopted as her default since your father passed. 

It was unnerving seeing such a display of teeth after only seeing a frown for so long, but you assumed she recognized the taller woman beside you based on your very detailed explanations of her appearance.  

Your mother stepped off the ship, the captain she had spoken to earlier barking orders to his men to ready the ship so they could transport the rest of the wares as she reached land. 

Brienne had stopped her walk, the same as you, still by your side a couple of feet away from your mother. Close enough that you could hear each other over the cacophony of people, but far enough that your mother wouldn’t be able to tell what you had been doing. 

“Brienne, this is my mother. Mother, this is Lord Commander Brienne.” Your mother had her head slightly cocked to the side, a caring and loving look on her face as you introduced them to each other.  

The situation in which you had told your parents about Brienne had been completely unplanned. It had been on a hot night shortly after your arrival by your father's bedside as he asked you about Winterfell. 

It had only really been a simple question of what your obligations had been, however, the second you had mentioned Brienne’s name, your mother grew intrigued, wanting to probe and prod after hearing the tone and manner of words you used when speaking about the then Ser. 

Her clever questions and your oblivious answers caused you to reveal more than you had intended to, and suddenly your parents knew all about the nature of your relationship.  

“M’Lady.” Your knightly blonde stayed as formal as always to leave a good first impression. Giving your mother a more drawn-out nod, she left her head tilted down longer than she usually did, deciding to be more casual in her greeting considering the fact that it was your parent. 

“So, you’re Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth. I’ve heard so much about you.” Brienne took a panicked glance at you, hoping you hadn’t spoken about the five months of errors on her end that would surely not be appreciated by your mother. You only gave her a reassuring smile back. 

“Just Brienne is fine, and only good things, I hope.” The worry in her voice was obvious to you, it goes unnoticed by your mother. Brienne was good at hiding her true reactions to things when the situation called for it, and this was definitively one of those situations. 

“Brienne it is. Positive things only, my dear. The joy you have brought my child is unmeasurable, and I am so grateful.” A goofy smile spread on the blonde woman's lips, a combination of relief and glee at learning that you had abstained from telling your mother about her shortcomings, if she did know; Brienne was sure your mother wouldn’t be as friendly as she currently was towards her. 

“They have brought me the same amount, M’Lady. Your child is truly exceptional, never met anyone quite like them.” Brienne’s smile changed into a sincere one as she spoke, her voice filled with warmth. Seeing them interact so effortlessly made you all giddy, staring at the tall Commander beside you with a lovestruck expression. 

“Why don’t you come back to Lemonwood with us, Brienne. Have supper with us, maybe spend a few nights at our residence, we’d love to host you.” This was really an excuse for your mother to spend time with your knight, to get to know the person her child had fallen madly in love with. 

If your father were still alive, you were sure he would sit right beside your mother as they asked Brienne question after question. The image in your mind made you smile fondly. Your father really would have loved to meet her, they would find that their opinions matched on many different matters. 

“That sounds very pleasant, and I would love to accept but I am afraid I am unable to. I need to get back to Kings Landing.” The twinge of sadness in her words did not stay hidden from either you or your mother. The reminder that time was not on your side bared itself once again, and no number of prayers could change the fact that you and Brienne had to part. 

“Yes, of course. How unfortunate. Perhaps another time?” Your mother did not back down, she laid out a long-standing offer, meaning that sooner or later, Brienne would sit at her dinner table, and she’d be able to learn all about the mysterious woman before her. 

“I’d love to take you up on that offer. Perhaps if I am dispatched to Dorne for a longer period of time.” You could tell that Brienne was being polite, yet she seemed genuine in her words. The moment she’d set foot inside the walls of your home, you were sure she would come to regret taking your mother up on the offer. She liked her privacy, and your mother liked prodding. Them together was not a feasible pairing. 

“Of course, just send a raven ahead of time so we can prepare, other than that you are always welcome to our home. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Brienne.” She liked the pretty knight, you could tell. You could also tell that she was itching to get on the road, ready to talk your ear off and tease you about your behavior around the blonde. 

It was all with good intentions, something she did when you were young and had an infatuation with someone. 

“You too, M’Lady.” 

“Safe travels.” She spoke her final words to Brienne before shifting her attention to you, “I will give you two a moment, come find me when you’re done.” With this, she walked back to the still-docked ship she had previously been on, spectating as the crewmen scattered around on deck to get everything ready for departure. 

You turned to look at Brienne, her doing the same, a crestfallen expression gracing her features. Your face matching hers, “I sent Bartholomew off with another message this morning. Reply this time, please.” 

“Bartholomew?” Even though she was incredibly disheartened, an amused and quizzical look took over her face. 

“Yes. One of our message ravens. His real name is Branoc, but I named him Bartholomew the Raven the First. It was whimsical to me.” You lovingly smiled at Brienne, and she reciprocated, smiling with just as much adoration back. 

She chuckled slightly, “I see. I will read yours and send one back with Bartholomew the Raven the First. I swear, no more miscommunication.” Her words were true, no more silence from her end, no more misery. 

“Good. Well, off you go.” Tears were starting to well up in your eyes, you didn’t want to let her go, did not want to watch her leave but you were afraid there was no other choice. You could see Podrick in the distance behind Brienne, waiting for her to board the ship so they could return back. 

“I will be looking forward to hearing your decision when you have given thought to my offer. I love you. Please come back to me soon.” She was dragging this out, wanting your goodbye to last as long as possible so your time wouldn’t be cut short so soon. 

“I will try. I love you.” Gazing up into her eyes, you took her hands in yours, an action overlooked by the mass amount of people around you. “Now go. Ser Podrick is waiting for you.” 

“Farewell, for now, Ser.” Squeezing your hands, Brienne let go of them and straightened her back, hand resting on its usual place on the hilt of her sword; looking down at you with an over-enthusiastically assertive face, making you giggle a tiny bit. 

“Farewell for now, Lord Commander.” One long glance was exchanged before Brienne turned on her heels and started marching over to where Podrick was standing. The last you saw of her tall figure was her boarding the ship and her disappearing below deck. 

Walking up to your mother, you grabbed her attention by tapping her gently on the shoulder, her turning around to face you. “I will allow two questions on the ride back, and that is it.” Setting these boundaries with your mother rarely worked, but this time you were serious, dead set on maintaining some seclusion. 

“Two questions are all I’ll need.” 

——— 

Two weeks had passed since the events in Planky Town, and you had let it slip to your mother that Brienne had proposed to speak to the King on your behalf. A couple days after she had learned this, she miraculously didn’t need your services anymore, leaving you free to do whatever you wished. 

The first thing you did was send a raven to Brienne, telling her that you reflected on her proposal, that you accept, and to expect you the following week. 

Directly after this, you had traveled to Sunspear. Letting Prince Martell know that you would no longer be able to assist in whatever he needed. Considering you never swore your services to him and that it was purely a means to keep the ‘protect the innocents’ part of your knightly oath going; the only thing he could do was to thank you for your help and to let you leave. 

Packing whatever you needed for your trip, you said your goodbyes to your mother and later that day, you were on a ship heading for Kings Landing. It was another one of your family’s ones, and considering they were already heading up north, they allowed you to ride along in exchange for your assistance in carrying the goods, which you gladly assisted with. 

That all led to you standing at the dock of Kings Landing where the tall woman stood and awaited you. Walking up to her, you took a glance around before looking up at her with feigned confusion. “Excuse me, I’m supposed to meet Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth. Do you know where I could find her?” 

Brienne smiled playfully, lightly shoving your shoulder, causing you to grin up at her. “You’re not funny, you know?” 

“That smile on your face would suggest otherwise.” You were teasing her; she knew you were. You wanted to engage in small banter before diving right into serious King’s Guard business, but Brienne was eager for you to get integrated and fitted so she could take you to her private quarters and cuddle you. 

“We can continue this later. Let’s go see the King. He’s looking forward to meeting you.” Brienne began leisurely trekking, you following after her. The sun reflected so perfectly in her gold plates as she journeyed towards the large gate, eventually traveling under it.

You found yourself in shadows for a brief period of time before the light hit your face as you emerged from the dark, stepping out into Fishmonger’s Square. 

From there you walked straight until you took a right, walking down The Hook and you couldn’t do much but gape at the Red Keep where it stood, large and marvelous, fit for a King of the Six Kingdoms. As you passed through the curved street, you and Brienne kept up a mindless conversation, not talking about anything important, really, just chatting, enjoying each other’s company. 

After finally, reaching the end of The Hook, you were greeted with a set of stairs, going up Aegon’s High Hill. You looked to Brienne with annoyed exhaustion, and she laughed, stating that ‘the leg muscles you get from this makes it worth it, I promise.’ She was being goofy, trying to change your expression into one less irritated, and it worked; she always knew how to make you smile like a fool. 

She motioned for you to go first, and you did, knowing that if you lost balance or fell, Brienne would be there to catch you. She, on the other hand, wanted you to go first so she could be bestowed the privilege of having your ass as her view; she would never admit that though. 

About halfway up, the knight behind you asked if you wanted to take a break, but you declined, knowing that you were almost there. Give or take a few dozen steps. Brienne shrugged, staying close to your back in case your legs gave out. Even her thighs were burning. 

Even though you walked a few steps above her, you still only reached Brienne’s forehead and she found it amusing that someone so short could have so much love, well, you were short to her; everyone was short to her. 

You ascended the very last stairstep, the Red Keep towering and looming above you. It was even more intimidating and glorious up close, and you had to crane your neck to even get remotely close to the peak of it. You had to stop yourself from releasing a ‘whoa’ but settled with subtle gawking instead; subtle being eyes and mouth wide open. 

Brienne passed your still-standing person, giggling at your amazement, “come on, you silly girl. You can revel in the spectacularism later.” You shook yourself out of your current state when hearing her fond tone, coming to join your blonde Commander by the large doors. 

Brienne entered the large building, making sure you were behind her, allowing you to step up to her side. The insides of the building were equally as grand as the outside, a home fit for a King, you thought. You refrained from commenting on the vision that was the Red Keep, but you were fairly certain your knight already knew what you were thinking by the awestruck countenance you had. 

When you entered the Throne Room, your former face had been switched to a solemn one, showing that you were a very serious knight who hadn’t been staring at the building you were currently in open-mouthed. 

There were two other people in the large space besides you and Brienne. A much shorter man with curly hair, and the King, who sat on his throne which had been moved down from its previous placement so that Bran could lift himself into it. 

Brienne leaned down to your ear, talking to you in a hushed tone, “That’s King Brandon Stark, which I assume you know. And the bloke next to him is Lord Hand Tyrion Lannister.” You only hummed in response as she rose to her full height once again. 

Tyrion had noticed the blonde's change in mood the second she had returned from Dorne. No longer staring off into nothingness and getting lost in her thoughts. No longer hiding away and sharpening every sword known to man or obsessively counting in the armory. 

He had been wondering what the cause for this sudden change in her behavior was, but now that he saw the way she looked at you, the way her eyes lit up as she spoke, and how you acted the same towards her; he drew his own conclusions. He was sure to tease her about this at a later date. 

Brienne and you stopped before the King, kneeling in front of him. He called you both up to stand straight, the Lord Commander marching up to stand by her King's side, you standing firmly in place. 

“Your Grace.” You kept your eyes fixated on Bran, very aware of Brienne’s eyes on you. You could see her in the corner of your eye, she looked so exalted and heroic standing next to the King in her gold armor and white cloak. 

“Lord Brienne speaks very highly of you. She has stated very clearly that she would fight by your side and that she trusts you with her life.” You had to hold back a grin at his words, she spoke just as highly of you as you did of her, “I have heard of your accomplishments on the battlefield, and I must say that I am impressed.” 

“Thank you, Sire.”  

You had spent the journey here memorizing the oath you had to swear. It was a mighty long one, but it had eventually stuck, and you were sure it would never unstick. You didn’t quite know when you were supposed to swear it, hoping Brienne would give you some sort of signal for when it was time. 

Luckily, there was no need for that, King Bran gave you his own very clear instructions with his words, “I would be a fool to not have you in my Kings Guard, especially when my own Lord Commander was essentially bragging about your skills.” At this, Brienne’s head slumped down to hide a smile that crept up on her lush lips, she was a little bit embarrassed at him exposing her. Yet at the same time she was grateful for it because now you knew just how much she wanted you here with her unless any of her other words hadn’t been enough. “Kneel.” 

Brienne looked at you with enthusiasm, her pride for you shining brightly in the dimly lit room. She observed as you got down onto your knee once again, barely able to contain her large grin. The corners of her lips twitched, and she was sure that if either of the men beside her were to see it; they would question the reason why she actually wanted you here. She could want you here for two reasons, no? One selfish, one for the good of the kingdom. 

Your sword skills matched hers, and to have you next to her would put her so much more at ease. She was well aware that she was an exceptional sword fighter, but to have two with the same skill was calming, knowing that you would both go through hell and high water to get back to the other alive.  

Having such a drive force can be lifesaving in dire and lethal situations, especially when your job is to protect the King; riots hadn’t been uncommon in the past, but hopefully, there would be none now that there was new and better leadership. 

“I swear to ward the King with all my strength, and to give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, mother no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honor.” 

What you didn’t seem to notice even though you kept your eyes fixed on Bran, was his slight eyebrow quirk at the fact that you chose to replace father with mother, but wife remained, just as it had with Brienne’s oath. 

“Arise.” 

Brienne practically beamed at you as you got up from your knee, almost overzealously volunteering to take you to your fitting when Bran and Tyrion started discussing it. The shorter one of the two stared at her with an astute look, mouthing ‘real smooth, Lord Brienne,’ a teasing smile on his face. 

The tall blonde shot him one of her signature glares in return, staring at him pointedly and he knew he was going to have fun messing with her about this. Maybe he’ll ask her if she’s still a virgin, maybe her answer had changed since the last time he asked. He was sure it had, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

“Your Grace. I will take our newest recruit for measurements, then show them their quarters. Leave it to me.” Bran didn’t think much of Brienne’s willingness, he thought her to be a strange character sometimes and this was one of those times. He just simply nodded to show that she was sanctioned to do just that. 

“Lord Commander. Ser. You are both dismissed.” Brienne trotted over to your side, ready to lead you away from the large room. 

“Yes. Your Grace.” Speaking unanimously, you and the tall blonde bowed before taking your exit. Side by side, you roamed the regal halls of the Red Keep, and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring in wonderment again, nearing the exit of said building. 

Brienne found your extreme fascination and wonder endearing, her heart fluttering at your childlike enthusiasm and admiration, her insides all warm, her stomach filling with butterflies as she watched your wonderstruck face. 

The descent of the stairs was much more forgiving than the ascent and you had found yourself walking down The Kings Road that winded through Kings Landing, and as you walked, Brienne explained to you that you had two stops to make, one at the armorer for measurements for your new plates and gambeson, and a second at the tailor, for new tunics and trousers, but also for your long white cloak. 

She spoke to you the entire time about what she had been up to the five months you were apart, stating that it was too much to be written on paper, as you navigated the streets of Kings Landing to make your errands. 

It all went smoothly and eventually, Brienne had taken you to the White Sword Tower, where your chambers were located. “I managed to get your room next to mine, so we can easily sneak in between if we wish.” Her voice was hushed and her tone mischievous as she showed you her quarters, and then yours. You smiled at her words; she hadn’t changed one bit. 

“Come into mine. I wish to show you something.” Suddenly her voice and face turned candid, opening the door to her room and allowing you to walk in before her, closing it after entering the quarters herself. 

She immediately walked up to her hearth, starting a warming and crackling fire, and then moved to the armor stand in her room, beginning the removal process of each piece of her golden plates. 

You couldn’t help but look at the back of her head with a puzzled expression. It was getting close to sunset, but not close enough to warrant Brienne unstrapping her armor. She usually kept it on until bedtime, and it was still light outside. 

Continuing her process, she spoke to you, voice soft and tender, “Go look in that book over there.” She twitched her head quickly, motioning you in the direction she wanted you to go. 

Walking over to her bed table, your eyes landed on a book. Brienne didn’t seem like the type of person who would be interested in dramatic literature. “The book isn’t of importance; I just picked a random one. Look inside.” 

You looked back at Brienne, only having her gambeson left to remove, but had stopped for a second to turn her head to look at you, offering an encouraging smile. Shifting your gaze back to the book, you picked it up and opened the worn-out leather cover. The paper inside seemed to stare back at you with accusing eyes. 

It was tear-stained, obvious marks on the spots the Lord Commander’s tears had landed. You were almost certain about what the parchment was, your speculations were only confirmed when you removed it from the pages and unfolded it; your handwriting from five months ago glaring at you. 

“You kept it?” This was surely a painful memory for Brienne, why she opted to keep it you did not know. The evidence of her evening cries was clear on the slightly ripped note; she must’ve read this every single day. 

“Yes.” She was finally finished with her armor and gambeson and moved to join you by her bed. “I needed to have something of yours, and this was all I had.” She stopped in front of you, gently taking the book and letter from your hands, placing them back on the bed table before grabbing hold of your hands. “I read it every single night, desperately trying to remember your voice. But I- I couldn’t.” 

Her gaze shifted from yours to the floor, and you were hit with a surge of woe seeing her evade your eyes. You did not know why she felt the need to do so. Was she ashamed that she had forgotten your voice? Or maybe embarrassed admitting that she read your letter every night even if it reminded her of the dark winter evening by the stables? You did not know, and you didn’t want to ask, not now at least. 

“Darling,” one of your hands tangled itself out of Brienne’s to softly lift her chin up, so you could look into her magnificent irises. “I forgot your voice too. No matter, though. We’ll be able to hear each other's voice every day from now on.” She smiled down at you with sad eyes, an unasked question in the air that you both wanted to ask, the taller woman being the actual one to ask it. 

“Will you let me hold you, please? I wish to hold you.” It was almost like she was shy, acting like it was the beginning stage of your relationship once again, and in a way it kind of was. You were in need of her warmth, her closeness, and the strong enveloping of her large and long arms. For her to hold you tight and never let go, desperate to be back in her embrace once again. 

You responded by kissing her tenderly on her lips, removing your hand from her chin, and using the one still in her hand to drag her down onto the bed with you. Both you and Brienne were still fully clothed, an error that needed to be resolved; you wanted to feel her hot skin against yours once again like you had done so many moons ago. “I want to feel your bare flesh against mine, please.” 

Brienne watched you lovingly and fondly, nodded, and started to remove her clothing, stripping down to her undergarments. It was nothing sexual, just the need to feel the entirety of her against you; an animalistic urge to feel a sense of security. You followed suit, undressing with haste, folding up your clothes, and placing them next to hers at the foot of the bed. 

Your blonde knight in shining armor crawled under the covers and laid down on her side, holding the fur up for you so you could do the same. Lifting up the same arm that had been holding the cover as you did. 

She wasted no time in slinging the same limb around you when you had laid down next to her, pulling you close to her, your back against her front. Her face nuzzling into your neck, breathing in your scent. 

Her strong musk and arms encompassed you, the faint and familiar smell of fresh grass and light sweat overwhelming your senses once again. You were completely intoxicated by her proximity, you couldn’t think, your mind was scrambled, heart racing. 

She started pressing soft kisses to your skin, supple lips ghosting over your neck and shoulder, making you release a sigh. Brienne whispered against your skin, her breath slightly tickling you. “Tell me what you did in Dorne during the five months we were apart. Catch me up, please.” You were more than happy to. 

As you started to recount the events that had occurred over the past five months, Brienne’s hold around you tightened, attempting to have you even closer to her which at this point was impossible. There was barely any space left between you, not even a small air pocket. 

Your legs were tangled with her incredibly long ones, fingers drawing mindless circles on her arm as you told her about your journey to Dorne, your father’s passing, and your family’s trader business. 

Brienne hummed every once in a while, to let you know that she was listening, her arm around you strong like cement. As she pressed a barely felt but burning kiss to the skin behind your ear, you realized that you were finally back where you were always meant to be. 

In Brienne’s arms.

–––

taglist: (give me a shout if you wish to be removed)

@na-shoba

@pastanest

@the-fuck-do-i-know

@mayfair-fleur

@idontlikepexple

#brienne of tarth #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #gwendoline christie #Spotify

[nishloves]

sweater; jeon wonwoo

pairing - wonwoo (svt) x f!reader

words - 3k (approx)

part 1 | part 2

theme - angst 🌩️ fluff ☁️

warnings - just a mention of bullying, implied chubby reader in the past (you can imagine them as anything you want in the present!), jealousy and insecure reader.

• based on the song "heather" by conan gray

wonwoo was your best friend, your first love and probably the last for that matter, in front of him you could love no one, sure you had your crushes but, when you realised how obliviously in love with him you were, your heart broke with every single of his endeavours, yet you will always stand by him, he was your wonwoo after all.

i still remember, 3rd of december

me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you.

your hands were buried under the ridiculously large beige sweater your best friend had thrown over you, you cursed yourself for not checking the weather and leaving your house in a plain shirt, if not for wonwoo, you would have froze to death, but, what will wonwoo wear now?

"wonwoo— what about you? won't you feel cold?" you asked, your eyes— full of worry, yet you couldn't help but admire how the sunset carved his face so gently, how his kind smile shut down any murmur of how strict he looked, how his glasses rested on top of his nose.

"don't worry y/n, my home is nearer, you have to go farther, plus," he buried his hands in his bag and took out a thin jacket, "i have this."

"but that's so thin... you can give me that and take this sweater back," you said, holding the hem of his sweater, ready to take it off as he gently tapped on your hand, motioning a no.

"but—"

"believe me, i really don't feel that cold; also at least you look better than me in it, you're doing that ridiculously expensive sweater justice," he grinned as he turned around, not hearing any of your arguments.

"call or text me when you reach home or i will get worried, alright?" he said as he spun around, walking backwards for a while as he waved you a bye, his other friend mingyu soon jogged to catch up with wonwoo and you still stood there on the university grounds, burying your face deeper in his high neck sweater, hiding how red your cheeks had become.

only if you knew,

how much i liked you.

you talked to wonwoo about everything, you were friends since high-school, it was natural. you vaguely remember telling him about your most recent crushes and his nose would scrunch up as he talked about all their negative qualities, but he would shake them off and cheer for you, you never confessed to anyone of them though, you just couldn't, not when you didn't understand how happy you felt when he cheered for you for the slightest of things, and how your smile would widen as his usually inexpressive face would express emotions on your questionable choices.

"hey you! heard your boyfriend broke up with you because you're a fatty!"

"don't you know? that's why no one likes her!" the school boys laughed as you averted your eyes from them, you were in your first relationship ever in your junior year and your supposedly boyfriend broke up with you in less than a week, you felt ashamed, you felt scared, you felt—

"hey! who said no one likes her?" a very familiar voice rang around you as wonwoo's arm wrapped around your shoulder, everything he said to those bullied went out from your one ear to another, skinship was something wonwoo was not at all comfortable with, you didn't mind it yet, you didn't particularly prefer it either.

you remember how glorified the best friends are on tv shows, partying, gossiping, hugging, pecks on cheeks; you and wonwoo were nothing like that, you both maintained distance, hugs were on special occasions such as birthdays, holding hands were to either reassure each other or for guiding, so when you felt wonwoo's hand wrapped around you in such protective stance, you melted. you melted in deep abyss of his mannerism, his voice his behaviour, his everything.

everything was black for you, and he seemed like a small trinket of white paint over your black canvas, highlighting the hidden details which were hidden by your emotions, your insecurity, he made sure to remove all of them, piece by piece, slowly and steadily, just like how a craftsman works on his craft, he helped work on your personality.

you soon realised why you weren't able to feel any deep feelings for just any other boy, you were madly in love with your bestfriend.

but i watch your eyes as she walks by,

what a sight for sore eyes.

when you had seen 'her' from the first time, your mouth hung open, she was beautiful, adeptly smart and most of all humble and kind, she would welcome anyone with open arms, help anyone who talked to her and didn't even ask for anything back, she would laugh with her friends and still have a faraway look in her eyes, it was hard to understand what she felt deeper than her surface and sadly for you, it made her more mysterious.

wonwoo had never been interested in anyone romantically throughout high school, but when you saw him tongue-tied on 'her' slightest of touch when she laughed, you felt something crack in your chest, you didn't complain, you just smiled, smiled at whatever sarcastic remark wonwoo had mistakenly announced in the class, making even the professor laugh.

even after seeing everyone joyous you couldn't help but notice a newfound twinkle in his eyes which you had never seen before.

brighter than a blue sky,

she's got you mesmerized;

you plopped yourself next to wonwoo on the park bench, a lunchbox in your hand as you grinned and opened it, wonwoo almost instantly stealing your food made you chuckle.

he rambled about his day, about how he felt he was taking all these classes for no reason when they had practically no use and you just listened with a smile, a thing about you and wonwoo was, you both got each other, you both had very similar personalities yet different shortcomings, he felt perfect to you, very imperfectly perfect.

and then you saw his attention divert from his rant to something— or someone behind you,

while I die.

you saw her wave at you both, which was odd because she was a relatively a well known person, and you were just you. people knew wonwoo because of his intellect, but you didn't think you had anything special for others to want to get to know you.

you saw wonwoo shuffled slightly, his face visibly flustered as you nudged him as if you were teasing him,

"hush— it's not like that!" wonwoo pouted, as he looked at you, "she...she just asked me to be partners for this project, do you mind?" he asked, his eyes skeptical and accepting of anything you said.

your breath hitched slightly as you blinked, it wasn't as if wonwoo was your only friend, but he was your dearest friend and you did every assignment together so—

"I don't mind at all, i will just partner up with mingyu," you smiled as you patted wonwoo on his back, you saw his smile widening but didn't see the glow of his eyes diminishing.

you knew he would say no to her if you said you wanted to partner with him, you knew he would reach any bounds to make you comfortable but you couldn't, you just couldn't...

why would you ever kiss me?

i'm not even half as pretty.

you were on your phone as mingyu turned on his computer for the research, you didn't even bother to check the topic and sensing your foul mood, mingyu didn't ask you to either.

"hey, do you need water?" mingyu asked as he stared at you with worry and concern, you looked sad and you didn't want to look sad but, you weren't able to hide it.

"that will be good, yeah," you whispered, passing a small and tired smile towards mingyu, as he went up from his seat you stared in space and wondered exactly why you were so affected by him hanging out with her? surely it wasn't because you were in love with him since five years? not at all, that... wasn't possible.

"y/n, are you okay?" mingyu asked, as he handed you the glass of water.

"you don't have to answer if you don't want to, you just look so down..." mingyu said, crouching in front of you, like a puppy.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his actions, he was a sweetheart and you understood why wonwoo became his friend instantly.

"just... something's on my mind— nothing much," you said as you gulped down the water.

"is it about wonwoo? i know it must be a little uncomfortable to work without him but—"

"no mingyu you're sweet, i really feel comfortable working with you," you reassured him as he got up, understanding that you don't want to talk about the actual thing right now.

"alright, join me whenever you want," he grinned as he trotted towards his computer, making you giggle.

soon you heard a ting from your phone and looked at a post shared by her, she and wonwoo had posted a picture of themselves, near a café, you felt a pang in your heart as you got up from the sofa,

"how should I help you, mingyu?"

you gave her your sweater, it's just polyester

but you like her better

I wish I were heather

watch as she stands with,

you holding her hand

with your arm around her shoulder,

now I'm getting colder,

"what are you writing?" you heard your bedroom's door close as your eyes found your best friend, his game on his other hand as he gazed at you.

you closed your diary and put it away from yourself, "nothing really," you whispered as you gave him a half smile, he just nodded and sat on the edge of your bed.

"y/n, are you okay? you seem down these days," he asked, his eyes full of concern, on one hand his concern made your heart full yet your head reminded you again and again that he only liked you as a friend.

"just studies...nothing much," you replied averting your gaze away from him.

the way he hummed, you understood that he didn't trust a single word out of your mouth, but you were thankful that he didn't press further, you were afraid that you would tell him everything, and then you would lose the one good thing you have.

"wanna go and eat something?" he asked, getting up from your bed and taking your coat off the hook, you merely nodded as you stood up, slipping on the coat he picked out for you.

as you walked towards the café you remembered this is where he and her met up, which ended up leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, you didn't say anything, you never would, you didn't have any right over wonwoo and you weren't allowed to feel jealous.

"their cakes are awesome, let's have a dessert night today," wonwoo beamed and ushered you to go in the cafe, in past whenever you felt down, this is what you both did, dessert nights, where you both would only have desserts for dinner, it wasn't healthy for sure, but it made you happy so wonwoo always went with it.

"wonu, I—" you had just begun but then you heard another voice.

"wonwoo!" you heard her voice, how could someone look so pretty in such basic outfits? you stomach churned but you stayed silent as wonwoo looked back at the girl, and you imagined his smile widening, when he was still there standing worrying for you, the only thing you saw was his twinkle in the eyes, which he always had whenever he was with you. and then you noticed the jacket which was draped on her— it was wonwoo's leather jacket.

she came forward and greeted you and then proceeded to talk to wonwoo while sending numerous smiles towards you, trying to initiate a conversation with you but you were too far in your jealously to respond appropriately, she understood that you were out of it, and didn't pressure you.

but how could I hate her?

"hey wonwoo, y/n! on sunday i have a dance performance on the left block stage, i would love it if you attend," she smiled warmly, inviting you both.

you pursed your lips, on sunday was your singing performance too, in the right auditorium,

"i am sorry but y/n's performance is on that day too—," wonwoo said, patting your back, you flinched and looked up at him, surprise visible in your eyes.

"oh then you don't have to attend at all! it's alright, you should attend hers," she said, clapping her hands as she cheered you and wished you for your performance.

even though you felt good your heart felt heavy.

she's such an angel.

"wonwoo, you have attended so many of my stages, i think you should go to hers," you smiled.

"but—"

"it's no problem, I'm not your only friend," you gave him a painful smile and walked away, not willing to talk any further.

"i'm sorry I just remembered about my pending assignment, let's have dessert night tomorrow wonwoo," you smiled pulling closer to your coat, you made a mental note to give wonwoo his sweater back tomorrow, which has been in your wardrobe for weeks.

you sat on the back stage, your head in your hands as you tried to remember the lyrics word by word, it was your new song, based on heather, by conan gray and on your own feelings, about how unrequited your love was and how you couldn't look at him in that way, he was out of bounds, always out of bounds.

but then again, kinda wish she were de—

"hey y/n!" you heard his voice as your head snapped up, you looked around frantically for him and there he was panting and out of breath,

wasn't he to be attending her stage?

"wonwoo? what are you—"

"gosh, you really thought I would miss this?" he asked, a smile lacing his features as your cheeks brightened, he was here, he really was here.

"but what about her—"

"she urged me to attend it the most, i called her yesterday to tell her that i wouldn't make it and instead she was the one asking me to attend yours," he said, almost in haste, as if he didn't want to explain anything.

she really is an angel, what am i infront of her? a jealous gorgon?

"you didn't have to—"

"ofcourse I had to y/n, you didn't practice in front of me— at all, i have attended every single one of your stages since middle school, though it was compulsory to attend festivals in middle school but that doesn't matter, I didn't want to miss it, I don't want to miss any of your performace," he said, sitting in front of you.

"I felt you were drifting away from me, and I don't want to lose you, did i do something wrong?" he asked, his eyes wavering while his lips quivered, you cursed yourself for making him feel this sad.

"no wonwoo, you didn't do anything wrong, I was just out of it—"

"please tell me what's on your mind, it's making me insane," he pleaded, genuinely.

"y/n, you're up," someone called out to you as both you and wonwoo stood up.

"all the best, y/n, i know you will do well," wonwoo smiled as he moved towards the wings, "i will take a video so remember to look at my side."

you smiled, he always really had been supportive of you and you couldn't wish for anymore, he chose your showcase over hers, and that made you realise that wonwoo would always stay by your side, so you must be honest to him.

the lights blinded you as the orchestra played their music, you couldn't see anything, you couldn't see anyone. you just poured out your heart in that self written song where all your confessions to wonwoo were recorded, all your emotions were pen down and your heart was expressed. you don't know if it was just your imagination or anything, but you saw a glimpse of her in the audience, her smiling at you and showing you a thumbs up.

she's an angel.

and then your eyes landed on wonwoo who stood on the left wing, his phone recording you as his mouth hung open slightly, you couldn't wait to tell him everything. you would tell him everything.

(do you all want a part 2 for this? edit : there's a part 2 now ;))

#seventeen #svt #svt au #svt imagines #svt fanfic #svt fluff #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt wonwoo #kim mingyu #svt mingyu #mingyu #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #svt angst #nishloves

[total-feminism-takes]

Much as I'm all for acknowledging girl wins, I feel like we as a fandom don't talk about how silly Heather is, especially in Action. Like we all hype her up as being this awesome girlboss yet forget her internet beef era when she went through the effort of making Katie and Sadie hand puppets (I mean presumably, but considering their lack of screentime I think it's a considerable effort in it's own right to scour the web for someone willing to make Katie and Sadie hand puppets aswell) for the sole purpose of being a hater. Also on that same topic she just has a wig of Gwens hair lying around somewhere like where did she get that, not to mention she apparently has retractable claws, that one segment in This is How We Will End It where she did that little clap when Alejandro freed her, her favorite type of chip is dill pickle (yes this is a diss she should be locked away for that), she was called a loser by HAROLD... literally her canonical goal is to take over and rule Europe this woman is so unserious 💀 (btw this is 100% not a hate post I love Heather and stuff like this really humanizes her and makes me appreciate her more as a character)

- 🧡

#total feminism takes #total drama #mod emma #td heather #td katie #td sadie #td gwen #td alejandro #td harold #heather silly

[queenimmadolla]

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 Summary: After four long years of pining, it's high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there's no better time for love confessions than Valentine's Day. If only you hadn't chosen to do so anonymously, because you're pretty sure he's hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff a/n: I did way too much for something that was supposed to be 2.k word count wise, and is definitely going to flop because of how late I'm posting it but I don't care because it is still technically Valentine's Day. A HUGE thank you to @kitmon for being my incredible beta-half (get it?) and if you like slow burns (and I mean the best ‘GET TOGETHER ALREADY but also please take your time really finding and understanding each other’ fics), go devour their masterlist. Happy reading and Happy Valentine's day ♡ word count: 10k (no 'read more' as tumblr keeps eating chunks and repeating parts of it when i utilize the feature, sorry, just scroll).

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

  “Are you stalking him again?”

  You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

  “Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

  But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

  “I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

  “Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. 

  “I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

  Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

  “No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

  Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking. 

  “Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

  Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

  Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

  Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

  Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

  So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time. 

  Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

  The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you. 

  You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

  “Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

  “How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

  “I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

  Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

  “No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

  Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

  “That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

  You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. 

  “Can you leave this on his desk?” 

  “Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

  God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

  “And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

  The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them. 

  She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

  “Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

  “Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

  “Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

  “No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything. 

  You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

  Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

  What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

  Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

  Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.  

  During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place. 

  You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so. 

  You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

  This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

  The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there. 

  The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then. 

  The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

  Yeah, simple as that.

  You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper. 

  You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

  Just write on the paper.

  Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

  You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

  —

  Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

  When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

  Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him. 

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

  He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

  He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous.  He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around. 

  He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

  Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

  He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

  He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking. 

  The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

  The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

  He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

  The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately, Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared. 

  By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public. 

  He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

  “Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

  Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

  “Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

  The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

  Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

  Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

  Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance. 

  “Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

  Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

  Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

  “I swore.”

  Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump. 

  “Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

  Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

  Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

  ── 

  Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

  You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

  Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

  Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

  “Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich. 

  “No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

  “Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone. 

  Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note. 

  “Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

  Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

  You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

  After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

  You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

  ─

  Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table. 

  His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, were on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

  “Eddie?”

  His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

  “Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

  She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

  “On the house.”

  “Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

  “Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

  Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

  Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

  “Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

  Was she playing coy?

  “Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

  Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

  “That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

  Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

  “I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

  Chrissy, glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

  “It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

  Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

  Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him. 

  “So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

  Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

  “Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

  He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

  “‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

  He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

  “It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.” 

  Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there. 

  He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

  And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies. 

  “Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis. 

  He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out��he’d let them down. 

  “She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

  “I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

  She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

  “Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

  He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

  Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

  He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

  It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

  The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

  The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

  Eddie,

  Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

  Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real. 

  She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

  I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

  Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

  I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the younger classmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it). 

  And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying. 

  But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should. 

  You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel. 

  So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

  Love,

  What the fuck?

  Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

   There was no name.

  “NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

  This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear. 

  His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose. 

  The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

  “Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

  Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular. 

  “Byers. Where’s Byers?”

  “His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness. 

  It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

  He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards. 

  He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

  “Is this yours?”

  Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

  “No.” Then he walked out.

  Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

  His secret admirer’s pen.

  “What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

  The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party. 

  It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

  Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme. 

  He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

  Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author. 

  Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door. 

  Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection. 

  He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

  Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  ─

  Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were. 

  Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party. 

  You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

  Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

  You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

  You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

  He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

  And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

  “I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.” 

  Try devastated.

  “You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

  “You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

  “That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

  You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it. 

  But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

  You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

  It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

  “Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

  “You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you. 

  “Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

  You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

  “Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him. 

  Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

  “Ah, I see. Is he here?”

  You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

  “Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

  “No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

  Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

  “That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

  “Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

  Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

  Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

  “Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

  “I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

  “Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

  “Because I have no idea who she is.”

  Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

  “What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

  “Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

  Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

  Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

  “Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

  “Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

  Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that. 

  “I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

  He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

  You frowned down at him. 

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Hello. 

  Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

  You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

  He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

  “Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.” 

  Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

  “Is that my pen?”

  “Huh?”

  “My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked. 

  When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

  Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

  “What?” 

  He finally blinked, licking his lips again. 

  “You’re a really good liar.”

  “What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

  His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

  “This is your pen?”

  “Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

  “This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

  “Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

  He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

  And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

  “That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

  When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

  You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

  Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

  “Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

  You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public. 

  “I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

  “What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?” 

  You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack. 

  “Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

  “Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?” 

  “No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

  “Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

  “It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

  “Is Eddie looking for you?”

  “Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken. 

  “He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then why would he be looking for you?”

  You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. 

  “I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger. 

  Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

  He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

  Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

  Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

  He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle. 

  Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

  The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you. 

  It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

  He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

  Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

  “Hi, again.”

  You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

  Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

  “Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

  “You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

  “It’s only fair right? Since I know?”

  You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

  Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

  Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

  He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

  “I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it. 

  “I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

  Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

  “And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

  Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

  “I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you. 

  “And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath. 

  There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

  And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions. 

  He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

  You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

  He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

  This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

  “Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

  Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

  The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

  Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

  “You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

  You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

  “They’re not the only ones.”

  Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— 

You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did. 

  Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear. 

  “I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

  “Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

  You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated. 

  With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

  Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

  “Like ‘em?”

  You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

  “Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

  “I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

  You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

  Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

  “Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

  “Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

  “For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

  Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

  ‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

  “He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

  “Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

  “That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses. 

  “. . .  You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

—

  Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.  

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x secret admirer!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #queenimmadolla #masterlist

[desertdollranch]

Opening and reviewing my first My Imagination doll

I have a new 18 inch friend to introduce and review! And this one has had an interesting journey to me.

I stumbled across My Imagination dolls a few years ago on Dollation, a delightful but now defunct site that cataloged different brands of play dolls as well as collectible dolls (check it out via the Wayback machine). By that time, this particular brand, designed by notable doll artist Robert Tonner, was no longer producing dolls. I looked at a few listed on eBay, but I didn't feel ready to buy one. They were a bit out of my price range, and they didn't really strike me as very unique. Their brand name refers to the line of clothing that was supposed to be produced for them, in partnership with DC Comics, the Wizard of Oz, Gone With the Wind, Alice in Wonderland, and I think maybe Disney. But there were very few of those promised items that were produced, and the brand itself only lasted from about 2015 to 2017 or so.

I have more or less neutral feelings about the partnering brands, so that didn't really sell them for me. So I moved on and put them out of my mind.

Cut to a few weeks ago, when my mom attended a doll show local to her. She's a collector as well, although these days she's almost exclusively into Barbie and similar size dolls. At the show she bought a beautiful 16 inch Tyler Wentworth doll, and when she sent me pictures I was pretty certain that the doll was designed by Robert Tonner. There's just something distinct in the face molds he creates. He also designed the dolls for the Magic Attic Club brand, and I have three of those, whom I adore. They're quite a bit older than My Imagination dolls, though.

(Heather, Keisha, and Rose.)

My mom and I were talking about other doll artists whose dolls are easily identifiable, like Helen Kish and Dianna Effner. I mentioned to her that Tonner had also designed a brand called My Imagination, and I went searching for examples to show her. That's when I stumbled across a listing for a doll that was not only a realistic price, but the particular doll I liked the best.

Since I first heard of them, my doll collection has changed a lot. It's no longer quite so dominated by American Girl dolls--not that I don't love them, I certainly do, but I've also opened my home to many other different brands of 18 inch dolls like Maplelea, Our Generation, Starpath, Healthy Roots, Götz, and Faithful Friends. I love having a diverse collection of unique dolls. It's fun to see how different they all look from each other, and yet they're all pretty much the same size and can be friends with each other.

So when I did see the listing for the My Imagination doll, I felt my heart change towards her and couldn't get her off my mind. I sat on the listing for a while, contemplating, imagining who she might turn out to be, until the seller sent me an offer for an even lower price. That did it. I went for it. And she arrived today.

Click through the cut to see the unboxing ceremony!

None of the dolls in this brand were given names. They are referred to as Brunette/Redhead/Blonde, in either Starter dolls (standard articulation at hips/elbows/head) and Deluxe dolls (bendable knees). The specific doll I got was the Starter Brunette.

She was brand new in the box, and it looks like she was probably never removed from her packaging. She was gently tied in with white satin ribbons rather than those awful plastic straps.

Time to free her from her box and take off her hairnet.

She's in perfect condition. She has a full vinyl body and is very heavy. The vinyl itself is dense and smooth with a matte finish, so much so that she almost looks like she's made of porcelain. Her skin has no shine to it at all. It's a bisque color with rosy undertones.

Her long curly brown wig is lovely but imperfect. It's rather dry on the ends.

Her glass eyes are gorgeous. They do not open and close. She has inset eyelashes.

But I think the side part isn't working for me, so how about we try a center part?

I think this gives her a younger look! Later I'll try to get her wig off and move it over so that she has a center part, but for now brushing it to the side works fine.

Looking at her undressed, I think she looks skinnier than American Girl dolls, but definitely not as slim as my Magic Attic Club dolls. Her head turns, and her arms and legs move outward as well as forward and backward.

Here she is side by side with one of my American Girl dolls, Eugenia. I think I'm right about their size comparison.

They had a fashion show to find out for sure just how similar they are! Eugenia can wear New Girl's dress just fine. It velcroes in the back and isn't too tight. New Girl is wearing an American Girl brand dress, and it fits almost perfectly--it's just a tiny bit big, and definitely not in a noticeable way.

Here's Eugenia wearing the cute sandals that came with New Girl. They're a pretty close fit.

And here she is next to (her cousin? half-sister?) Rose. To my eye, they very much look related.

Here she is in Maplelea brand clothes. I also did some brushing and reshaping of her curls.

I haven't decided yet what her name will be. I do know that she's a modern girl who loves to read, daydream, and play dress-up.

#my imagination dolls #doll review #robert tonner dolls

[taeminsung]

wish i were..

pairing: hyunjin x reader

summary: now that it's getting colder, hyunjin hopes that he hasn't missed the opporunity to tell you how he feels.

anon request: a hyunjin x reader based on heather by Conan Gray would hurt so good.

mina’s notes: my whole heart. please enjoy the hurt with me ♡ 

You had always insisted that the fall looked better from the top of tall buildings, which was why Hyunjin knew you would love to sit on the roof of JYP, just enjoying the weather as well as the view. Steam from the coffee he brought up was filling the space between the two of you as you laughed at his lame attempt at a joke, a shy smile pulling at his lips. These moments that he got to steal away with you filled his heart with such joy because he knew they always came few and far between. It was rare for him to pull you away from the group and have time like this because Chan knew of his feelings for you. To Hyunjin, it didn’t matter if you were his or not, moments like this was enough for him to have and cherish until he felt it was time to confess his true feelings to you.

Sitting alone in the practice room, Hyunjin couldn’t stop his eyes from staring at the sweater that laid next to his bag. It was just a simple piece of clothing, but why did it bring out so many emotions in him at the same time. Trying to pull his own thoughts away from where his mind started to drift to, he found his feet taking him over to sit in front of it, like it had some stupid gravitational pull. He hated that as his fingers reached out to touch it, the movie of that day played across his vision.

˚⁎⁺˳

The cool breeze sent a shiver up Hyunjin’s spine as he pulled his eyes away from your profile and instead to look over the city, to get a better understanding as to why you loved the views from up high. Was it the way that the city seemed to be endless? Or maybe because you could see all the trees changing colors? Could it have possibly been that it gave you a bird’s eye view of where you normally lived your life? Lost in his own thought he jumped slightly when he felt something come to sit on his shoulder, attention immediately going back to you and the smile you offered as you sat back down next to him, now just in the thin t-shirt you wore beneath the baggy sweater you were originally wearing. His fingers pulled it tighter over him before properly putting it on, concerned that you may start to freeze if he kept it for too long, but too enriched in what it could mean to deny wearing it.

Glancing back over at you, he watched the way that your focus wasn’t on the city before you two, but instead on the sky above and the clouds that populated the blue. It didn’t occur to him that maybe it wasn’t the city that caused you to love being up high, but instead how much closer it brought you to the sky, something you mentioned you loved once in passing. A quick memory of you pulling him and Han out of practice just to watch a beautiful sunset, made the soft click of realization happen. Too far in his own mind, he didn’t notice that you were looking at him, having said something. Hyunjin, you said again, a blush creeping across his cheeks as he came back to the reality of the situation. That sweater looks better on you than it does me. You should keep it, you said with a smile that seemed to cause your eyes to turn into half crescent moons. In a heartbeat, you were sitting closer to him, soft lips pressed against his, only to quickly pull away when the rest of the members came loudly through the door.

Days had passed from the recalled memory, one that Hyunjin truthfully thought about all the time. The only thing he hated about it was the way that you left so quickly telling the boys some half-baked excuse for why you needed to leave. It ate him up instead that he couldn’t talk to you about it because he had yet to find another moment where it could just be the two of you. Instead, he settled for wearing your sweater often with different outfits as he remembered what you had said to him. If only you knew how much he liked you, he thought as he threw it on. Excited coursed through him at the realization that he got to see you today, even though he wouldn’t have time alone with you specifically. His mind raced with the different possibilities of what the day would bring. Maybe he could gain the courage to finally let his feelings for you be known.

˚⁎⁺˳

The sun baked down on everyone as picnic blankets were spread across the ground at the Han River. A new tradition you had begged Chan to let you have with everyone, a once-a-month day that couldn’t be ditched for practice of any kind. Not only did it allow everyone a break, but it also gave way to make sure that friendships weren’t forgotten. Hyunjin kept stealing glances at you and Felix as you both filmed some random TikTok dance that Felix had been trying to get everyone to do. He didn’t even realize that his lips were turned upwards seeing you dance and smile, even though you messed up enough times for Felix to give up on the whole thing. As you approached the blanket, Hyunjin made room for you to be closer to him so he could talk with you about all the things that were plaguing his head, even if they were mostly about you.

While looking at you, he caught the way that your eyes were distracted by something else. Following your line of vision, he understood that it wasn’t something but rather a someone. Stuck in his spot, he couldn’t help but bring his attention back to you and watch your eyes as they continued to walk by, a dull ache spreading in his chest. This couldn’t be happening. It was a sight for sore eyes as you couldn’t seem to draw your attention away from this person. Your eyes seemed to sparkle brighter than the night stars. Hyunjin’s ears felt like they were burning, however, he couldn’t stop himself from watching the scene unfold in front of him.

Why would you ever kiss me?, he thought turning his attention back to the person who had caught your full and undivided attention from across the way. It struck him then in that moment, they were wearing that sweater you had gotten when you went with him and Jeongin. Hyunjin knew that you loved it more than most of your wardrobe because you didn’t stop wearing it for months and tried to style it with everything in your closet, saying that you needed to get your money’s worth from it. It only made the other boys tease you for it, trying to get you to buy other sweaters for the fall, knowing that you would likely never part with it. I’m not even half a pretty, his negative side surged feeling his heart break a little bit more. Was this what Chan was worried about? Did he know about this other person that had you mesmerized? So badly did Hyunjin want to hate this person who you looked at like he looked at you. How could he hate them when you were so clearly falling in love with them.

The crack that started small in his heart, continued to grow when he noticed that the members were trying to talk to you, but you were still so in your own little world, eyes glowing with love, while he said he feeling like he was dying inside. A small nudge came from his other side, Hyunjin’s attention finally landing on Minho who only offered him a nod of his head, an offer out of the situation that he found himself in. Quickly accepting, he stood with Minho, struggling to understand why you still weren’t noticing him that he was moving. Were you that in love with this person? Why hadn’t you ever mentioned them? He wanted to scream the same thought as earlier, but instead it was only echoing in his head, why would you ever kiss me?

The weight of the sweater he was wearing suddenly felt like it was going to drag him to the depths of the world that he didn’t want to go to. You clearly liked this person better since you gave them the sweater you were constantly saying you loved. Why then did he only get the one that had polyester? Minho pulled him away from the group, whispering something to him that went unheard as the fog settled into Hyunjin’s brain. The pain in his chest slowly became less of a sharp pain and instead a constant ache that left him feeling empty inside. He hated that he was too late to tell you how he felt. How many days late was he? Only a few? While he needed to know the answer, he settled on watching the scene even further away.

I wish I were…

˚⁎⁺˳ ── thank you for reading! ♡

#stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin fluff #skz #skz imagine #hyunjin #stray kids dream #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #hyunjin oneshot #hyunjin fic #stray kids fic

[rougecreator1]

glad someone is doing Heathers the fandom has been starved. Could you do Heather Chandler x Fem!reader. Could be like strangers to lovers, idc the fandom needs more lol.

Tipsy Hook Ups||

|| Heather Chandler x fem!reader

|| Warnings: swearing, house party, underage drinking mentions, characters get drunk, heather hooks up with reader while drunk (nothing overly detailed)

|| Summary: Reader gets spotted by Heather M and the two become fast friends, resulting in reader joining the Heathers & Veronica. Heather M invites Reader to a house party where drunk!Heather Chandler hooks up with drunk!Reader.

Requests open!

Started: April 19th

Finished: April 21st

~~~

You and Heather Chandler couldn't be any further from different. While she was popular and hot, you were more artsy and "weird". At least, that's probably how she would look at you. You spent most of your time either in the library or art room, places you were sure Heather Chandler would avoid.

And it worked. For a while.

She had no idea who you were.

Until one day she noticed you. That annoying Monday morning where you had decided to situate yourself just below your school locker. Seated on the ground, sketch book in hand. You weren't giving much thought to what you were drawing: just basic anatomy figure sketches. Nothing that was overly detailed or required a lot of thought. You loved art like that. The stuff you could just effortlessly create.

The Heathers walked by your locker, you did your best not to look up and give eye contact to either of them but of course you were noticed anyways. Just not by the Red Devil.

Heather McNamara noticed you. She took one glance at your art and was immediately sitting down next to you with a smile on her face.

"Oh my God! You're amazing at that! What're you drawing?" She asks, leaning over your shoulder. You flinch at her sudden appearance next to you and her energy, glancing at her and then at the others. Heather Duke had her arms folded across her chest, watching you and Heather McNamara with an intense glare while Heather Chandler took one glance at you. Seemed to stop for a moment before she kept walking. You second guessed and thought maybe you had imagined her stopping.

Your eyes shifted from them to Heather McNamara, feeling a little awkward with the blonde next to you," Oh... um... just-"

You're cut off by Heather Duke, though you're almost relieved by that." Heather, let's go!" She makes a 'get up' hand gesture.

"Okay, okay! Just a second!" Heather McNamara replies, looking to you again after looking over at Heather Duke. "Can you teach me how to draw like that sometime? My art score is low and I could use a tutor."

"Sure..?" You raise an eyebrow slightly. That was the last thing you expected to have happen.

"Great! Thanks! Oh! What's your name?" She asks you just as she was about to get up.

"Y/N." You respond, she smiles at you and gives you a quick (awkward) hug.

"Nice meeting you, Y/N! Library after school today?"

"Okay.."

"Great!" Heather gets up and leaves, Heather Duke scoffs and glares at you before they both scramble after Heather Chandler who was a good distance ahead.

That's how you and Heather McNamara became friends. Something you never thought would happen. From what you've gathered, she's much nicer than the other Heathers.

~~~

It's been three weeks now of you tutoring Heather in art, you thought she was getting better at it. On top of it, you both were close friends now. She was just so easy to talk to and genuinely pretty funny once you got to know her.

It was after school, you and Heather M were in the school library. Working on an art project the two of you had been paired together for. You guys didn't have the same art class, but the art teacher was trying this thing where she paired students from different class periods on projects. You weren't sure why, you thought maybe it was her way of getting students to connect with people they normally wouldn't.

"Y/N, I was wondering. Are you busy this Friday night?" She asked you, you looked up from the references you'd been flipping through in a book and shook your head.

"No, why?"

Her smile widened and you immediately regretted not coming up with a lie. You knew that look.

"Kurt and Ram are hosting a house party. I'll have Heather come to yours when she picks the rest of us up!"

Great. Now you're going to a house party. You'd done so well at avoiding those.

"Alright.. but could you come to mine after school first? I have no idea what to wear to a house party." You admit.

"Oh my Gosh! Totally! Ee, this is going to be awesome!" She squeals, throwing her hands into the air. Her excited look made it worth it.

~~~

Friday night rolls around, Heather M had helped you get into a nice outfit (whatever you want to imagine) and Heather Chandler had gotten all five of you to the party. The five being you, Veronica, the Heathers.

You weren't sure what to expect. Sure you could guess but all those guesses made you nervous. Luckily, you had Heather M and Veronica keeping an eye on you. In the time you had known Heather M Veronica had become friends with you too.

It was well into the party now, you had a few drinks. Nothing too insane, but you were definitely a little tipsy. Not as bad as the other Heathers and Veronica, who you were surprised to see as drunk as she was.

You were leaned up against the counter top in the kitchen, watching as Heather M poured each of you another drink. Heather Chandler walked over to you with a smirk.

"Hey, nerd. Come over here for a second." She demanded, you glanced at her in confusion but listened.

Without warning, she kissed you. Heather D & M and Veronica stared at the both of you with wide eyes and confusion. Veronica cheered though.

"Yeah! Get it, Y/N!" She's drunk, leave her be.

You blushed heavily and pulled away after a moment, staring into Heather's eyes. You couldn't read her. You didn't want to admit it, but you had been crushing on her as you got closer with the group. Did she pick up on that? What did this mean?

"Come on." Heather C muttered, grabbing you by your hand; dragging you somewhere upstairs and into one of the bedrooms.

You weren't sure whose but you didn't care enough to figure it out. You just simply followed Heather.

When she got you into the room, she had pushed you against the closed door with a bit of force. Kissing at your neck which got a gasp out of you, you moved her off you so you could gather your thoughts.

"What the hell?" You asked, breathless. She smirked again at that and her hand trailed down your side.

"This is what you've wanted, isn't it?" Fuck.

She knew.

You gulped and didn't answer, which confirmed everything for her," Just relax and let it happen. You're hot, let me fucking kiss you." Heather whispered against your lips.

Part of you knew this was wrong. You were both drunk. Her more than you. You were sure both of you would regret this in the morning. But right now? You didn't care about any of that.

Little did you know neither of you would regret it and that it would turn into something more.

#x reader #fem reader #canon x reader #fanfic #wlw fiction #heathers #heathers x reader #heather chandler #heather chandler x reader #heather chandler x fem!reader

[starry-night-rose]

“I wish I was with you.....six feet under the ground”

Character Playlist / Character Inspirations

Full Name: Elizabeth Heather Shelley

Nicknames: Lizzie (herself, family, others), Beloved Bride (Ernest, belongs to @rosietrace ), Missy (Trinity, belongs to @rosietrace ) Mademoiselle Couturière (Rook)

V/A: Minami Tanaka (JP) Kathryn Newton (EN)

! Twisted from Lisa Swallows from Lisa Frankenstein !

Age: 18

Birthday: January 1st

Horoscope: Capricorn

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Height: 154 cm (or 5’1)

Hair Color: Chocolate Brown

Eye Color: Dark Blue

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Homeland: Shaftlands

Family: Unnamed Mother (deceased), Unnamed Father, Unnamed Stepmother, Unnamed Stepbrother, Unnamed Step Sister. Ernest Shelley (“Husband”)

Dominant Hand: Left

Dormitory: Terrovania (belongs to @terrovaniadorm / @hallowed-delights )

School Year: Third Year

Class: 3-B (no. 13)

Best Class(es): Alchemy, Potions, Astronomy

Worst Class(es): P.E

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Favorite Food(s): Gummy worms, Pizza, Lollipops, Cherries

Least Favorite Food: Steak

Hobbies: Watching Silent films, reading/writing poetry, singing, listening to vinyls

Dislike(s): real Bugs, Cheerleading, Hot Weather

Talent(s): Sewing, Fashion Designing, Reanimation

Sexuality: Bisexual

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Personality: Lizzie is a very eccentric girl who seems to always have her head up in the clouds. Lizzie can however be very quiet and a bit of a recluse, seldom speaking until she feels comfortable. Once out of her shell, Lizzie is a very passionate and much more lighthearted! She can be very energetic at times when excited. Lizzie can be seen as a girl with many quirks who likes to do things her own way. She hates it when people tell her how to live her life and will do anything to break free from their confinements. Lizzie cares for her loved ones fiercely as they mean everything to her.

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TW for Parental Death, and mentions of corpses

Backstory: Lizzie was born to two loving parents in the Shaftlands. Her father was the groundskeeper for a historic cemetery and as such, Lizzie was exposed to the macabre from a young age. To her, the cemetery grounds was just one giant park for her to play in! Life seemed idyllic until it was all shattered in an instant. Lizzie was in the car with her mother when they got into a horrible accident leaving Lizzie the only survivor. Lizzie was crushed by the passing of her mother, becoming more of a recluse and diving more into the macabre. Shortly after, her father shockingly remarried another woman with two children of her own already. This gave Lizzie a whole new stepfamily which enraged her. She felt like her father had seemingly moved on quickly from a woman who seemed like the love of his life. Lizzie’s new stepmother did not tolerate Lizzie and as such, Lizzie would seek solace in the cemetery. She soon had a favorite tombstone, complete with a lifelike bust statue of the deceased. His name was “Ernest” according to his tombstone and had died unmarried. Lizzie would spend all of her free time at his grave, finding his “company” pleasant

One starry and clear night, Lizzie made a wish upon a star over his grave stating “I wish he were here with me” and promptly left when it suddenly started thundering despite there being no warning in the forecast. While at home alone, all cozy in her pajamas, she heard a knock at the door. Expecting to see the pizza delivery guy, she opened the door to find a tall, filthy, and rotting corpse standing outside. Terrified, she screamed, slammed the door, and ran for her life. Though, once she remembered the corpse’s face, it all made sense to her. Lizzie’s wish had come true! He was here with her. Feeling remorseful for how she acted just then, she opened the door and let Ernest in. The pair soon became oddly close with Lizzie fixing him up as best she could. There did come a problem however. Ernest seemed to be missing vital “parts” such as a hand or an ear. To combat this problem, Lizzie and Ernest stole from the mortuary on the cemetery property, using the body parts to add to Ernest. These new parts were somehow solidified by using Lizzie’s stepmother’s tanning bed surprisingly. When the time came for Lizzie to return to NRC, she brought along Ernest with her, having him pose as another student.

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Triva!

The necklace with the pendant that she wears was from her late mother. She almost never takes it off

Lizzie has a less strained relationship with her step-siblings, they mostly leave her alone

Lizzie is almost never seen without her sunglasses! She has a distaste for the sun

Lizzie is a great poet and has even had a few of her poems published before in the town newspaper

She’s always seen with Ernest in tow, the pair is almost never seen apart

Lizzie often is experimenting with different makeup looks! Ernest does fall victim to her experimenting most of the time

Lizzie is shockingly good with an axe!

#twst #twisted wonderland #lizzie shelley #my ocs!!! #terrovania #terrovania oc #disney twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #my art!