aylasrants

[aylasrants]

this is exactly what i needed

seasonal depression + mid terms are a killer combo

Saving Throws

Fic Summary: Hellfire is your favorite place to be, but why is it so hard to show up when the sun sets at 4 pm?

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, Seasonal Depression, Hurt/Comfort, suicidal ideation if you squint but Reader does NOT want to die and is not actively suicidal, drug use, smoking, no use of y/n, reader is not described, assumed fem!reader, happy ending, SFW

No Beta, we live and we laugh and we love.

Word Count: 4.8k

Master List

It wasn’t even 5 pm, and it was already dark outside. You hated it. Stuck all day in school, too cold to be outside during lunch, and by the time you made it home any daylight had already faded over the horizon. On the weekends you could at least enjoy sitting by the window, taking in as much daylight as you could, and when school let out during the week, there was at least that precious 2 hours before the darkness came. 

Fridays were the hardest, even though they shouldn’t be. Fridays used to be the day you looked forward to most because that was Hellfire. It was the one day you were guaranteed to see Eddie and the rest of your friends. You hated that you were moved to a different lunch period. 

It was grey and gloomy out, the leaves on the trees that had brought you joy just a few short weeks before were now empty and dead. It was cold. There was no sunlight this Friday. 

You still sat outside, hoping that a shock of cold for a few minutes would snap you out of the fog that had been creeping in the back of your mind for the last few weeks. You knew it was coming, inevitable, but it never got easier. You wished there was something more you could do to slow it. 

October was a pleasant distraction, and usually you could combat the worst of it until January. Holidays and Hellfire were the best things to hold onto until March. 

Today wasn’t one of those days. You didn’t want to go to Hellfire, you didn’t think you’d be able to add any modifiers to your ability score. You didn’t think you could find your character voice or pick a fight with Gareth or team up with Jeff. 

In your state, you felt like you might just let the party down. Let Eddie down. 

That was the worst part. You could handle the rest of your friends being disappointed in you, but Eddie was different. If you missed Hellfire, there wasn’t any guarantee that you’d come back and have your character still be alive. Most days you loved that he was a bit ruthless and sadistic as a DM. Most days, you cackled as he threatened to off someone’s character for being late or dipping out early or missing Hellfire completely. Most days you loved him- his DM style, that is. 

Most days. 

Today wasn’t most days. 

It was now two minutes to 3:00 pm. If you hurried now, you could make it without a lecture. If you were five minutes late, you could blame it on going to the bathroom and Eddie would give you a look but wouldn’t hound you too bad. Later than that...

You had never been later than that. You had only ever been late once, and Eddie had forgiven you by giving you disadvantage on a roll that caused your character damage but ultimately didn’t kill them. 

It took you five minutes to force your body to move back inside, your whole body covered in goosebumps from the cold. You pulled your jacket back on as you trudged towards the storage room where Hellfire met every week. You walked down the stairs where Eddie was just now starting in on his opening monologue. Ever the professional, he shot you a look, but didn’t stop. 

You hated that look, you hated the idea of letting Eddie down, ever. 

The game passed by in a haze. Even Eddie’s antics and loud voice couldn’t fully keep your attention today. You felt like you spent most of the time telling yourself to focus rather than actually focusing. It was fine, Doug and Mike took charge of the dungeon and you were happy to let them have the spotlight. You hoped you looked more like you were focusing hard on the battles and strategies over spacing out. 

The relief of the meeting being over was washed away by the dark parking lot, the sun long gone despite the early hours. Everyone else was chatting excitedly about the dungeon and you trailed behind, readying yourself to say goodbye before heading to your car. 

Everyone was loitering around Eddie’s van while he pretended to be annoyed as he smoked a cigarette. You liked these moments, where everyone was together and you didn’t feel as though the pressure was weighing down on you. Outside of Hellfire, even if it was dark outside you were starting to feel a little lighter, the fog in your mind clearing just slightly. 

You took a hit off of Eddie’s cigarette. You didn’t normally smoke but the burn in your lungs at least helped you focus. You didn’t even mind it when you were teased for coughing so much. 

One by one everyone else was picked up or drifted to their own cars, leaving you and Eddie. You were about to say goodbye, when he spoke up. 

“So, where were you?” Eddie asked, dropping the cigarette and crushing it out with his boot. In the silence of the night, you could hear the slight hiss of the embers dying under his old Reeboks. 

“Huh?” you asked, head snapping up to meet his eyes. Eddie crossed his arms and leaned against the van. 

“You were late today, and I was benevolent enough to let it slide.” he said. “So, where were you?” 

You wanted to tell him that you were only a little late, but you didn’t have the energy to challenge him. Normally you enjoyed the occasional argument or play fight with Eddie but today you didn’t have the energy. That spark was as cold as the smushed cigarette. 

“I was in the bathroom. Made the mistake of eating the surprise casserole during lunch.” you shrugged. You didn’t want to lie to him. You hated lying to him. But there was no good way to explain that the reason you were late was because you had to convince yourself to go. There was no way Eddie could understand, and you didn’t have the words to make him understand. 

How the hell could you explain that the place you wanted to be most was also the place that something deep inside you couldn’t bare to face. You hadn’t done anything wrong. Your friends hadn’t done anything wrong. Eddie hadn’t done anything wrong. So why did everything have to feel so wrong? 

Eddie seemed to accept your excuse for now. He clapped you on the back, which cleared the haze in your mind for just long enough to make your heart beat faster and for a moment you could think again. 

“Don’t be late again.” he said sternly, an evil glint in his eyes that usually made you melt. “Or else.” 

“I won’t.” you said, wishing you knew if you were lying or not. 

You kept your promise through November. Sacrificing those few moments of Friday sunlight to go directly to the club room after the bell rang. You were still dragging your feet, convincing yourself that you wanted to be with your friends as your shoes squeaked on the linoleum tile.

That was the worst part, being at Hellfire did make you feel better once you were there. But getting there was harder than actually coming to school. You still weren’t fully alert during club, but at least you were there. As long as you were there then you wouldn’t be in trouble and your friends would still like you and Eddie would still want you around-

Why was he giving you that look? Eddie walked into the club and had a disapproving look on his face. Anxiety flooded your system, washing away the haze as alarm bells rang in your head. You were here, right? It was Hellfire and you were on time, early even! You were here before Eddie. You had your character sheet, you had your figurine, you weren’t sitting in his chair-

“Where’s your shirt?” Eddie asked, and you felt your face flush of all blood. Your shirt...?

To your horror, you looked down at your shirt. It was an old faded t-shirt with the logo long since gone. It was soft, and usually worn for bed- 

You hadn’t fully gotten dressed this morning. You slept in this shirt and had just thrown on a hoodie over it, not even thinking about the fact that Hellfire was today. You were out of uniform. 

Fuck. 

When you forgot your homework during class, you didn’t care if teachers gave you that disapproving look. You could block out your peers jeering at you for what you wore, they didn’t matter.

None of them mattered, but Eddie did. 

“....Fuck.” you said, mostly to yourself, staring at the offending and comfortable material. 

You expected him to lecture you, like everyone else. You braced yourself for him to tell you to leave and come back when you knew how to dress yourself again. A small part of your brain almost hoped that he would. 

Instead he just gave you that manic, evil grin that you usually loved. You knew what was going to happen for the rest of the day. 

“I hope you’re feeling lucky today, because I’m not going easy on you.” Eddie said. “In fact, I think today I might play favorites.” 

Being Eddie’s favorite in Hellfire could be a death sentence if you weren’t careful. Being his favorite meant that he was going to pay special attention to you. Eddie didn’t often play favorites, but the last time he did it ended in Doug starting a new character sheet while rolling his saving throws. He was saved by a lucky 13 roll. 

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” you said, louder to show your disdain for this turn of events. Eddie only winked at you and started setting up the table and his area. 

One by one, everyone showed up while you looked over your character sheet as if you were cramming for a test. Normally you loved any attention that Eddie gave you, but right now it felt like too much as you scrambled to try and remember what the hell was even going on in the campaign. 

You pretended to have fun, swallowing down any panic you were feeling during the game. Even though all you wanted to do was go home and sleep and cry and disappear until Spring. How were you supposed to finish the campaign like this?

Eddie was picking on you the whole game, and you wanted to be mad at him. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone and wasn’t it good enough that you were even there? But you couldn’t, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it because he wasn’t actually mad at you. You could see it in his eyes that there was nothing malicious behind that grin. This was a punishment, yes, but he wasn’t doing this to hurt you.

A few weeks ago you would have loved this, loved being picked on by him and having his attention and investment in your character. You would have been locked in, challenging him and pushing him as much as he was pushing you, cracking jokes and batting your eyelashes at him for fun. 

You miss who you were a few weeks ago. 

You had been fighting on equal footing, but now you felt backed into a corner. With a final push, and with an assist from Jeff, you managed to get your final attack in before the battle ended. You would be worse for wear next session, but alive. 

By the time you all walked out of the school that evening, you felt extra drained. You had fun, you think. You should have had fun. Hellfire was always fun. 

Something heavy fell on your shoulders and you made a noise and swatted in front of your face as Eddie snapped his fingers and smacked your face around a little. You felt the snout of that damned pig ring poke into your cheek. 

“Hello? Anyone in there?” He asked, his arm swung around your shoulders as if it were the most casual thing in the world. The weight of his arm dragged you out of the clouds and back down to earth. 

“No one’s home.” you deadpanned, but you couldn’t stop the corners of your mouth from pulling up slightly. This was Eddie now, not the Freak, not the Dungeon Master, not the guitar lead of Corroded Coffin. No pressure. 

“Should I tape a note to your face if I want to leave a message?” he asked.

“No, I’ve seen your sticky notes, they don’t stick.” 

“That’s what happens when you drop them in slush.” Eddie shrugged. “Now, what the hell is wrong with you?”

That was a loaded question. “Alphabetically or chronologically? Actually scratch that, we don’t have time to get into that.” You laughed, hoping he’d drop it. 

You felt Eddie’s hand move around your back from one shoulder to the other. He moved in front of you to make you face him completely. His free hand rested on your other shoulder, his head tilted down slightly. His head always tilted down like that when he was being serious. Shit, he wasn’t going to drop it. 

“Is something going on?” he asked. “You were at the table but...” Eddie seemed to struggle with how to phrase it. “You’re phoning it in.” he finally settled on. 

You hated disappointing Eddie. He was one of your best friends, and you admired him so much. How were you supposed to answer him without feeling like a massive failure? 

Eddie had seen right through you, had noticed that your head and heart wasn’t in the game. Despite his looks, Eddie was always so intuitive about how people were feeling. He noticed when things were off. 

This isn’t how you wanted him to notice you. It was ironic really, ever since you joined Hellfire all you wanted was Eddie’s attention, to catch his eye. Now that you had it, you wish he’d look anywhere else. This wasn’t the you that you wanted him to see. 

“Finals.” you said, giving the canned answer that you had given to the guidance counselor early in the week. “Classes are kicking my ass and I’ve just been a bit off.” The counselor had bought it, and if Eddie didn’t you could blame stomach issues or- 

“You sure?” Eddie asked, frowning. He was still holding your shoulders. “It’s just- it’s been weeks, man. You’re barely there.” 

“There’s nothing wrong.” you tried to assure him. It was true, and that was the worst part. There was no reason why you should feel this way. Things weren’t bad at home, things were fine at school. The worst thing that’s happened in the past few weeks was today's encounter with an owlbear. “I’m just really tired lately. Stress. Can’t sleep.” 

Eddie looked at you hard for a few seconds before nodding, finding the answer satisfactory. He let go of your shoulders and you immediately missed the pressure. He opened the back of his van and dug through a small mountain of clutter and pulled out his lunchbox. 

“No, Eddie, it’s fine. I don’t have any money right now.” you said as he pulled out a small baggie. He tossed it to you anyway. 

“Pay me back later.” he said. “Ten.” 

It was a discount, he must be actually worried about you. The fog in your mind told you to take the weed and go home. To smoke and sleep and lay around for the next few days and wallow in whatever feeling this was. 

It took you longer than it should to force your lips to say “I suck at rolling.”

And that’s how the two of you ended up at the far end of Forrest Hills trailer park, away from a majority of the trailers and RVs as Eddie carefully rolled the joint. This wasn’t something that happened often, the two of you hanging out alone. The last time it happened was the start of the school year when Eddie had given you a ride home when your car had a flat. The two of you ended up spending an hour in your driveway just talking. That had cemented the crush you had been suppressing for the past eternity. You had thought that maybe he had felt that same spark you did that night, but the two of you hadn’t been alone like that since. 

Eddie took the first hit and handed the joint over to you. You held it for a moment, unsure if weed was a good idea with your already cloudy mind but you took a deep hit anyway. 

“Woah, easy.” Eddie said, taking the joint back as you coughed from the smoke. He smacked you on the back a few times before offering you a swig from a water bottle. You chugged the rest of it before your coughs subsided. “It’s just me. You don’t need to smoke like you have something to prove.”

You winced at the call out. You absolutely did take that hit to try and impress Eddie and he saw right through you. Of course he did. 

“Sorry.” you coraked out. 

Eddie just shrugged and took another hit, leaning back against the driver side seat. The mixtape he put in was louder than you would have liked, but it kept you alert. You felt at ease for the first time in a while, excited even, and that made you feel guilty. You didn’t want your brain to be dependent solely on Eddie to function. That wasn’t fair to him.

You considered asking him to take you home when he started talking again. He turned up the music just slightly, his voice a little louder as he launched into a ramble about the guitar solo. 

“Are metal songs usually this long?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door to face him more. 

“If they’re any good, yes.” Eddie laughed, shredding on his precious imaginary air guitar. 

“It’s nice of Metallica to slow down in the middle of a song. Gives the pit a break, you know? Like, ‘Hey good work everyone! Grab some water and meet back in the pit in three minutes for the big finale!’” You laughed, taking a smaller hit from the joint. 

“If you leave the pit, it doesn’t count. I don’t care how much they slow down.” Eddie said firmly. 

“You have too many rules.” you shook your head. ��Not everyone has the never ending stamina that you have.” 

“That’s why we need to work on yours.” Eddie stretched out dramatically and dropped his feet in your lap, the heels of his Reeboks digging not unpleasantly into your thighs. “You’re damn near falling asleep on me at Hellfire, how am I gonna get you in the pit at our first big gig?” 

Your stomach turned with guilt but you pushed through it. “Just toss me in from the stage and if I thrash enough I’m sure it’ll count.” 

“Come on, you know it won’t count unless you start the pit willingly. If I can’t make you feel like you want to fight with our songs then I’ve failed.” Eddie pouted. 

“You make me want to fight without your singing.” you teased, untying his shoe laces. 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

You froze, holding the broken aglet between your fingers. “Dunno what you mean.” you lied. 

“These past few weeks you’ve been hanging back during battles and have barely talked during the campaign.” Eddie said. “Do you...”

“Do I what?” You asked, rolling the aglet. 

“Do you enjoy Hellfire anymore?” he asked, his voice quiet and unsure. You felt your heart break at the question, you hated that your damn brain made him feel like this. You were fine suffering in silence, but the last thing you wanted was to drag Eddie down with you. 

“No- I mean- yes.” you stuttered out. “I do like Hellfire. I promise.” It sounded childish, and you couldn’t force your voice to sound as sincere as you wanted it. Eddie would see through the bullshit in a heartbeat. “I.. I don’t know what’s wrong.” You conceded finally. 

Eddie nudged you with his foot. “Talk to me. Normally you won’t stop talking during the campaign. Don’t clam up on me now.” 

“It just... I get like this every year around this time. The sun disappears right after class and suddenly I feel like a damn zombie. I can’t think, or do anything. I feel like I’m fighting fog. You can’t punch fog.” 

Eddie crossed his arms and nodded sagely. “That’s how fog works.” 

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’re oh so helpful.”

“Normally the way to get rid of fog is an assload of light. That’s your problem, huh? No light means more fog.” 

“That seems to be the case.” you agreed and turned down another hit of weed. It wasn’t helping right now anyway. 

“Should I shine one of the spotlights on you next time?” He suggested. 

“You already did that this afternoon.” you deadpanned. 

“Nah, I just made you participate. I’ll rig one of the drama spotlights to shine directly on you-”

“Giving me disadvantage on every roll because I’ll be blind.” you countered. 

“You will be, but I might have mercy on your character. No, but I was thinking more of a Care Bear stare. Blast you with light to make you give a shit again.” He crushed out the joint. 

“A Care Bear stare? Who even are you right now?” you stretched your own legs out to rest on his lap, your legs tangled together now. “You can’t even name three Care Bears!” 

“I can so! There’s Grumpy Bear and uh... Happy Bear and Brave Heart.” Eddie said smugly. 

“Wh- That last one isn’t even a bear, it’s a lion!”

Eddie threw his arms up dramatically. “Does it matter?”

“Yes! You’re a fake Care Bears fan. How are you supposed to blast me with a Care Bear stare if you can’t even name the characters? I’m embarrassed to even be here right now, Eddie.” you sighed, disappointed in him. “Poser.” 

“Poser?!” Eddie looked offended. “I can handle being called a freak, or a satanist, but poser? That’s a low blow. I’m wounded.”

“Crit hit on psychic damage.” You cackled. 

“You sound better.” Eddie said as your laughter subsided. 

“I.. feel better. Thank you.” despite the weed and the only light in the van coming from the overhead light, you did feel better. There was still a bit of fog, but the exhaustion wasn’t as bad as it had been over the last few days. 

“Are you gonna be okay for the rest of the campaign?” Eddie asked. “I’d hate to lose a party member to a monster we couldn’t see”

“You aren’t gonna lose me.” you promised. “I’ll be there and I’ll try and be perkier.”

“I don’t care about perky, I just want you to have fun.” Eddie said firmly. “If you aren’t having fun then that means I’m not doing a good job as a dungeon master. Come one, tell me what I gotta do to make it fun for you again.” 

“Kill off Blorbo.” you said. 

“Anything but that, he’s an essential NPC.” Eddie smirked. 

“He’s really not.”

“Blorbo bring joy and wonder everywhere he goes-”

“Can he go to Hell? I think they need more joy and wonder there.” That damned goblin had started as a joke and quickly turned into the most obnoxious character that would show up to cause problems when things were going too well. 

“I’ll tone him down.” Eddie promised. “The voice is straining anyway.” 

You took a deep breath and fiddled with his aglet again. “I just.. Don’t want to let you down when I can’t give my all.” You admitted, laying out your vulnerability. “I don’t care if anyone else is disappointed in me, but you and the rest of the party are different. I want to be there for you all. I want to fight the fog and show up and be a part of this adventure. I... I don’t want you to- if you give me the same look that the rest of the school gives us then that’s it. I won’t be able to face you, Eddie.”

Eddie was silent for a while as you stared at his shoes. “Look, I know I can be harsh when it comes to Hellfire.” he admitted. “I can be an asshole because it means so much to me. I know that. If my threats are making it harder for you to show up then I’m sorry. I don’t want to be so much of a dick that you run away because I’m threatening to kill off characters because of my precious dungeon master ego.”

You felt your chest tighten and you swallowed a lump in your throat. 

“I want you at Hellfire.” Eddie continued. “I love playing with you. When you and Jeff team up, I know I’m in trouble. The two of you come up with plans that, frankly, no sane dungeon master would let you roll for. But I do, because you make it fun.”

“And because you’re insane.” you laugh as you blink back a tear. 

Eddie grabbed your ankle and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll be nice to you at Hellfire. I’ll be patient. I just want you to show up and enjoy the game. Just don’t tell the others I’m giving you special treatment.”

“Not being a dick is giving me special treatment?” You gave him a small smile, a real one. “I’m honored.” 

“Yeah, well, if word gets out they'll start demanding that I be nice to them too, and I can’t have that. Not during the game anyway.” 

You felt lighter than you had in weeks. You really did feel better. It wasn’t going to be a permanent feeling, you knew that there were going to be more foggy days. Feelings like this don’t really go away until Spring, but you would prevail. You wouldn’t let Eddie down, or the rest of your party. You wouldn’t let yourself down and fall victim to an endly haze. 

“Can... we hang out like this more?” you asked. “Outside of school, I mean.” 

Because this is what you needed. It wasn’t gonna be easy, but having this time with a friend is what would get you to the end of winter. Eddie, Jeff, Doug, even Gareth and the freshmen. You had put so much pressure on Hellfire that you had forgotten that your party members were also your friends and allies. 

This didn’t have to be a solo quest. 

“Yes!” Eddie said, so quickly and forcefully it actually made you jump. “Yeah, absolutely, You should really come to the Hideout more and watch us play and after we could go get uh... questionable snacks from the gas station. Or I could sneak behind the bar and get us some beers.” 

With how enthusiastic he was, you wondered if he had also felt that spark that night at the beginning of the school year. 

It was almost 2 am when Eddie dropped you off at your place, stepping out of the car to give you a real goodbye. The rest of the night had been a whirlwind of a million topics at once, music, life, plans to hang out in the future. You felt happy. Really, genuinely happy. 

You hugged Eddie, which he seemed surprised at but he hugged you back tightly. You were squished against him, enjoying the texture of his leather jacket under your fingers. It was cold out, and you could see your breath now, but you felt a warmth in you. 

You didn’t need Eddie to be the light that kept you going, but he could help your own light stay lit. Him and the rest of your friends. Though you knew that a part of you would always burn more brightly for him, specifically. 

Eddie pulled back and dramatically bowed to you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. It was so over the top and so Eddie. 

“Come by Gareth’s place on Sunday. We’re having rehearsals while the neighborhood is at church.” He instructed. 

“I thought Corroded Coffin had closed rehearsals?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. They were always serious about their band, they didn’t let people come and distract them. 

“Think of it as a special open casket.” Eddie said. “You don’t have to talk, we can focus on our music, and you get to spend time with us during the day.” 

It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever offered you. You nodded, knowing that it might be hard to get your ass out of bed but you would. For him. 

And for you.

With a final hug, Eddie saw you inside before peeling out of your driveway. You made your way to your room and looked at the photo on your nightstand of you with the Hellfire club. What you were feeling might be a solo quest, but you weren’t alone. 

For the first time in weeks, you were able to fall asleep without the weight of the fog. 

A/N: This fic was originally hurt/no comfort out of my own seasonal depression and insecurities. But what stopped it from being that was that none of you deserve to feel abandoned or like you're fighting alone. None of of who love Eddie so much deserve to be kicked out of Hellfire without a fighting chance.

Get yourself some vitamin D gummies and a SAD lamp. We're gonna get through this, guys.

Also I really need a regular Tag List so comment if you wanna be added.

[aylasrants]

[aylasrants]

i love him on an unhealthy level

BRIDGERTON (2020 - ) | s02 ep07 'HARMONY'

[aylasrants]

just submitted a 7 pages long essay about the relation of law and writing for a class i attended once and know literally nothing of

it was given a month ago, i finished it in two days

i am a legend

that’s it, just needed to feed my ego a little

[aylasrants]

reader’s out their living my dream 😭😭

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only a Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half-playful, half-cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to affirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

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[aylasrants]

Symbolism in Writing

Weather Symbolism

Rain: cleansing, sadness, renewal, obstacles

Sunshine: happiness, hope, clarity, energy

Storms: conflict, turmoil, dramatic change

Snow: purity, stillness, coldness, isolation

Fog: confusion, mystery, uncertainty

Wind: change, freedom, unrest, communication

Animal Symbolism

Eagle: freedom, vision, strength, courage

Lion: bravery, power, leadership, pride

Dove: peace, love, innocence, spirituality

Wolf: loyalty, cunning, survival, community

Snake: transformation, danger, temptation, wisdom

Butterfly: transformation, beauty, impermanence

Plant Symbolism

Rose: love, beauty, passion, secrecy

Oak Tree: strength, endurance, wisdom

Willow Tree: sadness, flexibility, resilience

Lotus Flower: purity, enlightenment, rebirth

Ivy: friendship, fidelity, eternity

Cactus: endurance, protection, warmth

Object Symbolism

Mirror: self-reflection, truth, illusion

Key: opportunity, secrets, freedom

Bridge: connection, transition, overcoming obstacles

Candle: hope, spirituality, life, guidance

Clock: time, mortality, urgency

Mask: disguise, deception, concealment

Number Symbolism

One: beginnings, unity, individuality

Two: partnership, balance, duality

Three: creativity, growth, completeness

Four: stability, order, foundation

Five: change, adventure, unpredictability

Seven: mystery, spirituality, luck

Season Symbolism

Spring: renewal, birth, growth, hope

Summer: vitality, abundance, joy, freedom

Autumn: change, maturity, decline, reflection

Winter: death, stillness, introspection, endurance

Light and Darkness Symbolism

Light: knowledge, purity, safety, enlightenment

Darkness: ignorance, evil, mystery, fear

Shadow: the unconscious, secrets, mystery

Twilight: ambiguity, transition, mystery

Element Symbolism

Fire: passion, destruction, energy, transformation

Water: emotion, intuition, life, change

Earth: stability, grounding, fertility, growth

Air: intellect, communication, freedom, change

[aylasrants]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: some bullying, little sprinkle of hurt/comfort, lots more smooching, underage drinking/partying, so so so much cuteness

part three | part five

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

word count: 4k

a/n: a shoutout to both @rebelfell for gifting me eddie’s costume idea and @thepurplelovewitch for shy girls! and the biggest kudos to @undead-supernova for looking this over and always encouraging/helping me to improve. <3

“Nance, if you think I’m wearing that, you’ve lost your damn mind,” you mutter with utmost distaste. 

The brunette peeks her head around the package she’s holding to give you a small pout, the other hand resting on her hip.

“Oh come on, live a little!” She sighs, putting the sexy nurse costume back onto the rack. “There is no way I am letting you sulk on your couch again this year.”

You roll your eyes but continue browsing the costumes, each one more revealing than the last. You didn’t mind spending your Halloween night curled up on the sofa with a scary movie, you were more comfortable that way. 

Besides you weren’t normally invited to such gatherings, even if you did want to go. Tina only seemed to invite you out of obligation, not because she wanted you there. 

“Well…maybe I won’t be spending it alone,” you mumble and her brow quirks up.

“Oh, are you and Eddie doing something?” she prods. 

But your shoulders sag a little, unable to hide your disappointment when you shake your head.

“I mean, he hasn’t asked me…yet.”

You continue to flick through the costumes, now too consumed in your own thoughts. 

It has been a week since he kissed you on the football field—and it’s still the only thing you can think about.

The warm press of his mouth against yours, breathes mingling together in the chill autumn air. The way his strong hands encircled your waist, brushing up against the cool skin of your cheek. The memory sends a delightful shiver down your spine, despite the suffocating warmth of the small costume shop. 

“Okay,” Nancy says with finality, abruptly interrupting your daydream. She nods her head in satisfaction. “Okay, this is the one!” 

She thrusts a costume into your awaiting arms. Once you catch a glimpse of it, you blanch before immediately shaking your head and giving it back. 

“And you’re actually insane, Nance.”

She rolls her eyes, but shoves it back into your arms anyway.

“Oh, come on, isn’t the whole point of Halloween to dress up? Go outside your comfort zone?” 

You glance down from her encouraging gaze to the costume in your hands. A woman with flowing blonde hair is smiling back at you, a black and white corset hugging her curves in all the right places. 

But it’s the pair of bunny ears perched atop her head and the white cotton tail attached to the backside of the costume that somehow makes you feel more insecure. 

“I am not dressing up as a pornstar—”

Nancy all but slaps a hand over your mouth to stop your hysterical shriek. A mother with her young son gives you both a distasteful look as they pass, the tips of your ears warming in embarrassment as you tuck the costume behind your back. 

“It’s not a pornstar costume,” she quips with a lowered voice. “It’s a Playboy Bunny.” 

You give her a look, blowing out an exasperated breath. 

“As if they aren’t the same thing?” 

By some miracle you manage to walk out of that shop a half hour later. Nancy’s promise of burgers and milkshakes fuel your last minute costume decision. But as you both descend onto Main Street, leaves crunching beneath your boots, you can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at you. 

It’s as if they can see that damned bunny costume hidden beneath the dark plastic bag, the contents weighing you down with each step you take towards Nancy’s station wagon. 

Twenty minutes. 

It’s been twenty minutes since he’s been kept waiting, and Eddie’s patience is finally beginning to run out. But the snap of a branch catches his attention, eyes darting to the trees ahead. 

Eddie is more than confused when he realizes the regular he was supposed to be meeting had bailed on him. And the person that emerges from the line of trees is none other than Nancy Wheeler. 

He quickly shuts the metal lunchbox as she approaches, taking a seat on the bench opposite of him, determination clear on her features.

“Uh…are you lost, Wheeler?”

“No,” she states flatly, swinging the other leg over the bench seat. “You’re just the guy I’ve been looking for.” 

He scratches at the stubble on his jaw, fingers tapping against the worn wood of the table. Eddie has seen a lot of odd things in his twenty years of life, but Nancy Wheeler making a drug deal was not something he ever expected. 

He glances at her warily when she folds her hands on the table, looking far too prim and proper to be sitting out here with him and his lunchbox full of weed. 

“Well, how can I be of service then, Wheeler?” he tilts his head towards the metal box, but she holds his gaze regardless. 

“I have a proposition for you.” 

He can’t help but snort, already beginning to shake his head. 

“Okay, I don’t know what rumors you've heard Wheeler, but the only type of payment I accept is cold hard cash.” 

And from the look of almost horror that crosses over her features, he instantly realizes he’s misread this entire situation. 

“Oh god, I’m not here for a drug deal, Munson!” 

It’s silent for a beat, neither of them daring to look at the other out of sheer embarrassment. 

“So, why are you here, Nancy?” he asks quietly. 

Her eyes flick up to look at him again, noting the splotches of pink rising up the skin of his neck. 

“Tina’s party on Friday,” she starts, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. 

His shoulders sag a little at her answer, arching a brow in her direction. He only can assume someone put her up to this, one of her more popular friends not wanting to be caught dead with the likes of him. Well, unless they need someone to supply the weed. 

Nonetheless, a part of him can’t help but admit he’s a little intrigued.

“What about it?”

Nancy flashes him a look before continuing. 

“There’s a certain someone that’s going to be in attendance…” she trails, biting back a smile when he instantly perks up. “And I think she would really want you to be there.” 

Eddie’s cheeks flush a rosy pink, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. While he had thought about going to try and make some extra cash, he wasn’t exactly sold on the idea. 

A costume party filled with a bunch of drunken idiots that hated his guts sounded like a goddamn nightmare. But knowing that you were going to be there? Well, that changed things drastically. 

“I’ll be there,” he asserts. 

Nancy is a little taken aback but happily surprised by his quick response. In her own way this was also a small test. A test to see if Eddie really liked you as much as you claimed he did. And she had gotten her answer. 

“Well, great!” she says, flashing him a polite smile and rising to her feet. “Be there by 10 o’clock sharp, and don’t forget to wear a costume!” 

Eddie doesn't have a chance to reply before Nancy turns on her heel and disappears back through the trees. 

Friday has finally come. 

And your stomach twists with every step you take toward the large house, the click of your heels on the sidewalk a far more steady rhythm than the beat of your own heart. Parties had never really been your thing and the only other one you’d managed to get invited to was at Steve’s house, back when he and Nancy were still together. 

So it was no surprise that you felt completely out of your element as you continued to strode up the darkened walkway. You can feel the bass pumping inside you before you even cross the threshold, wringing your hands together in a nervous manner. 

The air is thick with the smell of smoke and cheap beer, throngs of your peers in scantily clad costumes stumbling past you to the makeshift dance floor. No one spares you a passing glance as you take a step deeper into the hazy room, your own eyes seeking out your best friend. 

Her pale pink dress was surprisingly difficult to spot amongst the crowd, but it was Jonathan who you ended up spotting first. He looked out of place amongst the dancing teens, a dark blue suit hugging his shoulders as he leaned against the far wall of the living room. A pair of round sunglasses shielding his eyes. 

The Duckie to her Andie. 

Relief floods your chest as you begin to push through the crowd, the pounding bass echoing in your ears. Nancy looks surprised when she finally spots you, passing her drink to Jonathan before pulling you aside.

“Where’s the bunny costume?!” she shouts over the music, tugging at the sleeve of your cardigan.

“I couldn’t do it Nance,” you reply, wrapping your arms further around your middle. “It just wasn’t…me.”

And while you can see the clear disappointment written on her features, there’s a sparkle of understanding in her eyes. 

“Well, if you’re going to be a,” she pauses to look over your ensemble in its entirety. “…librarian,” she continues, “You at least need to be a sexy one.”

And without another word she’s pulling you into the nearest bathroom. When the door clicks shut behind her, she immediately gets to work. She reaches to untuck your button down shirt from your pleated skirt, popping open the buttons one by one to reveal the swell of your breasts.

You earn a small nod of approval when she sees you actually wore the push-up bra you had bought for your original costume. The brunette gives the lower half of your shirt the same treatment before tying it off with a knot right above your navel.

Lastly, Nancy hikes your skirt up a little higher up your hips and takes a step back to admire her handiwork.

“Perfection. There’s no way Eddie’s gonna be able to resist you like this.” She grins and you feel your palms begin to sweat.

“What do you mean? Eddie’s here?!”

Suddenly it all clicks into place. 

The real reason for why both her and Eddie were missing at lunch last Wednesday. Before you have a chance to question her any further, she’s fled the bathroom, her curly bob disappearing in the sea of drunken teens.

Damn her.

You take one last look in the mirror, fighting the urge to pull your cardigan tighter over your newly exposed skin when you rejoin the party. Your eyes scan the entirety of the room, in search of that tall lanky figure you’ve come to know all too well. 

To your dismay, Eddie is nowhere to be found. While you knew he wouldn’t be amongst the groups of people grinding against each other in the living room, you had expected him to be tucked in a corner somewhere—observing. 

You find yourself searching almost every inch of Tina’s large home and backyard, desperate to catch even a glimpse of him. And, unfortunately for you, instead of finding Eddie, you stumbled upon a couple getting hot and heavy in her parents bedroom. To which you quickly slammed the door shut and tried to scrub the image from your memory. 

You take those stairs back down to the main level slowly, disappointment weighing each of your steps. There was only one place you haven’t checked yet: the kitchen. And with your terrible success rate, a drink sounds too appealing to pass up. 

But once you cross through that open doorway, you stop dead in your tracks. Because there he is, in all his handsome glory—casually leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest, a drink long abandoned next to him. 

Has he been here this whole time? 

While his expression borders on cynical, all of that shifts once your eyes meet. Eddie’s throat bobs, jaw slackening once you come into view. The set of plastic vampire fangs sitting between his teeth fall to the sticky tile floor with a soft clack. 

He has to practically wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth as you approach, straightening up and trying to look at anywhere other than the swell of your breasts.

“Hi,” you breathe softly.

But his answering smile has your knees about to buckle beneath you.

“Hello to you, sweetheart.”

Only then do your eyes flick downward, towards the t-shirt adorning his broad chest. And you let out a soft snort of amusement.

This is my Halloween costume is written in dark Sharpie against the bright orange cotton. The words are slanted and messy, as if he scribbled it on in a rush. It’s barely visible beneath the lapels of his leather jacket when he crosses his arm over his chest.

He quirks a brow at you. “What? Are you not impressed?” he muses with a teasing glint in his eye. “I thought it was quite clever, if I do say so myself.”

His smile widens at the soft giggles that bubble past your lips, leaning further back against the counter before motioning to your ensemble.

“And what exactly are you supposed to be then, hm?” He chuckles, as if it isn’t obvious.

But you feel your face warm, suddenly hyper aware of every inch of bare skin that’s now exposed to him when your hands fall to your sides.

“Uh… a librarian,” you reply, trying to muster up some feigned confidence.

Eddie’s eyes darken slightly as he takes in your bare midriff, tongue gliding over his lower lip in deep thought.

“So, I take it you’ve come to reprimand me for my overdue book fines?”

Feeling slightly emboldened, you take a small step closer, lightly nibbling on your lower lip to stifle another giggle. 

“I mean, rumor has it you’ve had that copy of The Hobbit checked out since your junior year…” you trail off, carefully pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose. “That’s an awful lot of fines, Eddie.” 

“My sincerest apologies, Miss,” he grins before placing a hand over his chest, those dark eyes alight with mischief. “Is there anything I can do to remedy this…misunderstanding?” 

You hum in contemplation, gently tapping a finger to your pouted lips—an action his eyes can’t help but follow. 

“Hm, perhaps…” you say before glancing over your shoulder toward the crowded living room. 

While dancing isn’t something you normally gravitate toward, something in you wants to try. Although it’s a silly high school milestone you never expected to experience, you don’t want it to pass you by either. Especially with Eddie by your side.

Maybe it’s the trickle of confidence that’s surging through your veins or the underlying adoration in his eyes, but either way, you reach out and lace your fingers together. 

“Dance with me?” 

Eddie doesn’t hesitate before he grasps onto your hand, a dimple indenting his cheek as he grins down at you. 

“I’d be honored, sweetheart.” 

It takes all of your self control to hold back a small squeal of excitement, quickly leading him out of the kitchen and towards the heart of the party. You’ve barely made it to the threshold before you feel it. 

Warmth. 

Wet, sticky warmth splashes up onto your neck, dribbles down your chin and onto your chest. Soaking into the white cotton of your shirt and sticking to your skin, the red punch does you no favors as the lace of your bra is revealed through the fabric.

“Oops,” a sickly sweet voice croons, but the unmistakable snark in their tone tells you this was anything but an accident.

Roxy Carraway just smirks at you, now glancing down at her empty cup with a mock pout. Two of her friends flank her on either side, keeping you frozen in place.

A gazelle caught between three lionesses, their claws sharpened and teeth bared.

“Now I need another drink,” she whines, snapping her gum obnoxiously. “You know, you really should watch where you’re going, freak.”

She hisses, taking one glance at you and then the male behind you before flipping her blonde hair off her shoulder and striding past you into the kitchen.

You don’t say anything as she knocks her shoulder into yours, white hot shame blazing through you as you meet the eyes of several other party goers. Whispers and snickers of laughter begin to flow through the crowd that were there to bear witness to the interaction.

No one offers you a shred of remorse or pity as they continue on, the thump of bass dragging their attention elsewhere. Tears began to sting your eyes, lower lip wobbling.

Don’t let them see you cry.

When you turn to rush toward the front door a pair of strong arms envelope you, tugging you down the darkened hallway and away from the throngs of your peers.

“Hey, hey—are you okay, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard it but a newfound rage begins to simmer beneath the warmth of his irises. When all he receives in response is a small shake of your head, he carefully tugs you both into the small bathroom you’d been shoved into earlier by Nancy.

Only this time any ounce of excitement has been drained from your limbs.

When your eyes meet your reflection, you wince, noting the harsh red liquid that clings to your shirt. The fabric suctions to you like a second skin and accentuates the curve of your breasts from the bra beneath. But not in a way that makes you feel a lick of confidence.

Before you can stare for too long, Eddie guides you to take a seat on the lid of the toilet, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it beneath the stream of water. His ringed fingers catch in the harsh lighting as he wrings the rag out into the basin of the sink. The droplets slide over the rough calluses of his fingers.

Eddie turns to you then, sinking to his knees before you. He gently nudges your thighs apart before slipping between them, the stray water droplets soaking into the fabric of your knee-high stockings. His hands are warm where they rest against your upper thigh, the other gently gliding the washcloth over your chin and down your throat.

Despite your best efforts to remain calm and collected, your breath hitches in your throat—something the male doesn’t miss.

While you can see the small smirk that threatens to tug at the corner of his mouth, he says nothing. No teasing comment as he continues to clean the dried punch from your skin.

“I’m sorry this happened,” he mutters softly, that small smile now turning downwards into a frown. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You can tell by the mournful look that spreads across his features that there’s more he wants to say, but he refrains.

That should’ve been me.

While the words remain unspoken between you, you hear them loud and clear.

“It’s not your fault you know,” you whisper, eyes dancing along the strong features of his face. Memorizing each freckle that dots along the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. “They probably would’ve found another way to torment me tonight anyway.”

His hand stills once he reaches the curve of your chest, eyes flicking up for your permission before he delves into uncharted territory. But you are unable to hide your shy smile at his display of nerves.

With your nod of approval, Eddie continues on, fingers trembling slightly when the cloth dips past the collar of your shirt. He can feel the heat of your skin through the damp fabric, his body aching to feel that warmth melting into his own. 

But he keeps his composure, shifting slightly at the uncomfortable ache in his knees. You continue to watch him closely, that look of longing he’s witnessed for months now sparkling beneath your irises. 

Your gaze continues to travel lower, over his cheekbones until they reach his full lips. They’re pursed in concentration, just the tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. He continues to glide the damp cloth along your skin, wiping away the sticky residue. 

But Eddie can feel the weight of your stare. In a nervous yet teasing gesture, he glides his tongue over his lower lip. 

“Would it be weird if I wanted you to kiss me right now?” you whisper.

Eddie’s eyes flick up to meet yours, fingers hovering over the dip between your breasts. He swallows harshly, your eyes following the bob of his throat. But the corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft grin that has your heart stuttering beneath your ribs. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replies, washcloth dropping to the tile floor as he reaches to cup your cheeks. 

When your lips meet, you breathe out a sigh of relief, slipping your arms around his neck to tug him impossibly closer. Despite your newfound urgency, his movements are slow, gentle as he molds his mouth over yours. Almost as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling of your lips against his own. 

Your hands quickly find themselves in his wild hair, twirling the dark strands around the tips of your fingers. He groans softly when your nails scratch against his scalp, the deep rumble of it sends warmth blossoming beneath the surface of your skin. 

And soon, too soon he’s pulling away. 

The male is practically panting, gazing up at you with an almost dazed expression. But Eddie soon notes the small pout that’s beginning to form on your lips, leaning forward to press another tender kiss to your mouth. 

“How about we ditch this lame ass party?” he mumbles against your lips, earning a small hum of approval from you.

And he can’t help but press another kiss to your awaiting mouth. “We could go to my place, maybe rent a video…” He chuckles when you pull him in for another firm kiss. “Order a pizza? Large pepperoni—” 

“With olives,” you add, gently nipping his lower lip. 

The male groans low in his throat, lips ghosting over the edge of your jaw. 

“Half with olives,” he counters. 

“Deal,” you breathe, giving him one more spine tingling kiss before he begrudgingly rises to his feet. 

And when he begins to slip his jacket off his shoulders, your brows furrow in confusion, head tilting in a silent question. He just gives you a cheeky grin as he reaches to hook his fingers into the nape of his t-shirt. The male quickly pulls it over his head, his bare chest now on full display.

Before you have time to fully ogle the dark ink that swirls across his skin, he hands you the bright orange shirt. You can already feel the warmth of the fabric seeping into the palm of your hands, confusion still evident on your face whilst he shrugs the jacket back on.  

“There’s no way I’m letting those assholes get the last laugh, sweetheart,” he explains, motioning to your stained shirt. 

And your heart thuds at the implication, a half smile tugging at your lips. You eagerly slip the cardigan off your shoulders, reaching for the buttons on your blouse. You let out a soft giggle when Eddie quickly spins on his heel in an attempt to give you some privacy. 

Once you remove the ruined blouse, you gladly toss it in the wastebasket, slipping the borrowed shirt over your head. His scent hits you like a tidal wave, warm and spicy with a slight undertone of weed. It’s a smell you want to wrap yourself up in for days, have it imprinted on your skin forever.

You take another subtle whiff before you clear your throat and rise to your feet. The movement further closes the already short distance between you. 

“I’m decent,” you say finally.

You’re unable to hide your amusement when he turns around so quickly that he almost crashes straight into you. But his look of concern vanishes the moment your laughter rings in his ears, securing his arms around your waist. 

“What’s so funny, sweet thing?” he chuckles, head tilting down toward you. His wandering gaze now focused on your lips. 

“I thought you said we had to stop meeting like this, Eddie.” 

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld @scarlet-bitch @thecreelhouse @vamp-bunny @notwantingtoadult @keeksandgigz @josephquinnsfreckles

[aylasrants]

i literally started writing in english just so my family couldn’t ask about it, like even if they read it they wouldn’t understand a single word so i am safe (for now at least)

reblog if you're a writer but would rather drink straight cyanide than show any of your family members your work

[aylasrants]

i need to literally be locked in a cabin/cottage far deep in a village where society can’t get a hold of me to write

i need to not exist to write, i need to disappear because i swear every single time i try to write either i’m in the middle of class or someone calls me for something

just let writers write :( give us a holiday or something, we deserve it

it turns out actually that writing is easy if you don’t go to work and don’t have to clean your house and don’t have to run errands and don’t have to pay bills and don’t have any babies or pets to feed and don’t have any obligations to fulfill and also you have 27 free hours every day and 13 million dollars cash

[aylasrants]

some of y’all are writing like rent is due and i love you guys for it

keep writing those amazing fics babes, i’m literally in awe of all the talented people on this app!!

[aylasrants]

i hate this app because why do i relate to everything 😭

bitches be like "i love writing fanfiction" and then constantly second guess themselves because what if they're not good enough what if it's cringe what if no one likes it what if people laugh when they see it what if i mischaracterized someone what if i didn't tag it properly what if what if what if

[aylasrants]

STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!

Bleeding:

Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.

It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.

Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.

blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.

it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.

Stab wounds:

I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.

also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.

if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)

whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites

Concussion:

despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.

if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.

Fever:

you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.

ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:

sluggishness

seizures (severe)

inability to speak clearly

feeling chilly/shivering

nausea

pain

delirium

symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.

ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.

fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.

keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you

ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:

YOU DIE AT 85F

sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.

pt 2

[aylasrants]

this is canon in my heart now 🤭

#130 and/or #147 if you're still taking Eddie requests this weekend? After that season finale I just need to read something heart achingly sweet and tender in a declaring his love for the first time type situation. I was really caught off guard by how much I ended up loving his character. Thank you!!!

Prompts: (30) "I'll keep you safe" and (147) "Tell me again"

Characters: Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 8,712

Warnings: Spoilers for Vol. 1 of season 4 if you have not watched it yet (what are you even doing here?) though some things don’t 100% match up with the show. There’s some cursing, a lot of pining, and it is kind of angsty.

A/N: First, just thank you for this request because I truly enjoyed writing this for you. Second, I hope you love it. Third, buckle up because it's a long one. Fourth, check out the songs that were on repeat while writing this below!

Playlist: 1, 2, 3, 4

You never meant to get caught up in all of this.

But Dustin- he was your brother, after all. You had his back no matter what, through thick and thin; bullies, forgotten lunch money, a ride to and from the arcade. Whatever Dustin needed, you were there. Including when he, and all of his friends, came to you for help with a problem of the other-worldly variety.

You had your suspicions for a while that Dustin and his friends were up to no good, but you just assumed it was a very elaborate D&D campaign. You definitely didn't expect your sweet, intelligent, little brother to tell you that he had found an interdimensional species of slug that turned into a monster and ate your mother's cat and was now on the loose.

But when he did, you did what any big sister would do.

You had his back.

Still, there was always a feeling in the pit of your stomach- the waiting for the other shoe to drop when things began to feel normal again. Yet, despite everything that you and your friends had been through since then, there was a collective hopefulness that maybe- just this once- things would get better.

You had met Eddie Munson about six months ago when Dustin asked you to come and watch one of the Hellfire Club's campaigns. The eccentric Dungeon Master gave him shit for inviting his big sister along and made sure to point out that there was a very strict 'no spectators allowed' rule.

"Relax, who do you think even taught this loser how to play in the first place? I'm only here to make sure my little brother isn't getting clowned by some posers who aren't deserving of his skills."

Your friendship was pretty set in stone from that moment on, and the two of you grew incredibly close incredibly fast. The relationship that you had with Eddie was special. It was normal, grounding, and you cherished him for being able to make you forget about all the dark shit you had been through that you longed to forget about. Which, inevitably, led you to spend what was probably way too much time with him.

There was so much that you couldn't tell him, and he knew that you weren't being completely open; and in true Eddie fashion, he was a little too open to compensate for it. When he'd wake you out of a nightmare or notice you flinching when he made a sudden movement, or maybe you were zoning out again, he couldn't help but wonder what it was that you were keeping to yourself.

The rules of the party forbid you to tell anyone, it was pretty much the number one and most important rule- which was broken, quite often, depending on the circumstances. So you don't tell him. You can't. He would never believe you, anyways. He'd think you had just gotten too high again and were trying to give him ideas for a new campaign. But that was okay because Eddie didn't need to know. He was so incredibly innocent and sweet and you knew that if you brought him into that kind of world, it would only cast a shadow on the light that was him.

That wasn't the only thing you were holding back from him, though.

You remembered the exact moment that you fell in love with Eddie Munson. You remember the realization of your discovery hitting you like a tidal wave as if it were just yesterday; sitting on his bed, legs crossed underneath you, shuffling through an old milk crate of records to find something to put on. That was your typical day after school; Eddie would take you back to his trailer, he'd make something quick for you both to eat- because God knows the Hawkins High cafeteria food was not worth eating, you'd help him with his homework, and he'd get you super high.

As you thumbed through record after record, and cassette tape after cassette tape- countless metal bands, some of which you had never heard of- something caught your attention. Your brows furrowed together as Eddie's soft voice carried through the trailer and you leaned over to glance down the hallway. He was in the kitchen, making boxed macaroni and cheese and quietly humming the words to your favorite song.

The moment you saw him rounding the corner down the hallway with two bowls in hand, you snapped back to your place on his bed, pretending you had never taken your attention off of his records. The smile on your face, however, gave you away instantly.

"What's got you smilin'?" He asked, proudly handing you the top-tier mid-afternoon snack he had just whipped up.

You shook your head, "I thought you hated Journey?" You questioned nonchalantly with a shrug of your shoulders. "You said they weren't real rock n' roll."

He rolled his eyes and tilted his head to the side before shoving a forkful of macaroni in his mouth. "Yeah, well," he said while chewing. "You like them."

You weren't sure why you had never noticed it before, but when you looked at him in that moment with his hair pulled back in a low bun, sunlight streaming through half-closed blinds casting a pale, peach glow across his soft features and illuminating the silver chain around his neck, it was as clear as ever: you were in love with him. The feeling terrified you, so much so that, not only did you immediately get up and leave his trailer that day, but you didn’t see or speak to him for two whole weeks; coming up with every excuse in the book to avoid him. 

The problem was that you were, well, you. You were t-shirts and ripped jeans that were a little too long, unkempt hair, and a snarky attitude. You were the best friend, not the girlfriend, and you didn’t want whatever feelings that were blooming in the pit of your stomach to ruin what was the best friendship that you had ever known. So avoiding Eddie Munson like the fucking plague was the best idea that you had until those feelings began to subside. 

Only they didn’t. They grew and grew until it felt like you were drowning every time you were around him. And that was a real problem, because Eddie only liked girls that were way out of his league; girls that didn’t want boxed macaroni and cheese or would scrunch up their noses in disgust at the sight of his mattress. He liked short skirts and girls who wore make-up. And the pain you felt every time he smirked or batted his big, beautiful eyes in a cheerleader’s direction was going to be the death of you, that you knew. 

"Have you talked to Eddie today?" Dustin asked you after throwing open your bedroom door without even bothering to knock. Max was standing closely behind him in the hallway outside of your room. You knew them both well enough to know that the looks on their faces were anything but good.

"No, why?" You asked.

It was pretty early on the first day of Spring Break, so it wasn't surprising that Eddie hadn't called or been by your house. He was probably sleeping in. Dustin didn't say anything else, he immediately turned on his heel and started marching towards the front door with Max in tow, spewing off nonsense that you couldn't quite comprehend.

"Dustin," you said sternly, having no choice but to follow them. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain on the way," he replied and tossed the car keys towards you. "Let's go!"

Your mind was swimming as Dustin mouthed off all of the possible scenarios that would put Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie in the same vicinity. He kept prodding you with questions being that you knew him better than anyone; about his love life, did he have any other family, where would he go if he needed to get away? But your mind was scrambled, a thousand thoughts firing all at once- all you could say was, "I don't know".

Robin and Steve weren't too thrilled to see the three of you. From past experience, more than three party members busting through the doors of their workplace usually spelled trouble. Dustin immediately went to work on getting a list of the phone numbers of all of the people that he knew who knew Eddie. Max filled Robin and Steve in on the newest mission. And you, well, you sat on a step stool behind the counter and tried not to have a panic attack- or vomit, either one.

This was your best friend and now the number one suspect in a murder investigation. You knew how to handle monsters but you weren't quite sure how to get a grip on what exactly was happening. One thing was certain, to at least you and Dustin- Eddie was completely innocent. Steve mentioned that you should get the cops involved, but getting the cops involved- having Max as the last person besides Eddie to see Chrissy alive, and witnessing Eddie fleeing the scene of the crime meant certain doom for your best friend.

"We're not calling the cops, Steve." you seethed as you stood up from the step stool; your face red from rubbing your hands over your cheeks and eyes to keep yourself from crying. Everyone collectively stopped talking and looked at you. "I know where Rick lives, it's out by Lover's Lake. He's currently locked up, but he trusts Eddie so he would watch the house for him, or whatever. He would take me out there with him sometimes."

Eddie had been hiding for almost twenty-four hours. He hadn't slept, he was on edge, terrified that even breathing too heavy meant that someone was going to find him. And when he jumped out from underneath that tarp with a broken beer bottle and held it to Steve's neck, you saw the fear in his eyes. But when he looked around that dingy room and his eyes met yours, you could also see that weight being lifted off of his chest.

There you were.

He released his grip on Steve and you stepped forward, pulling Eddie into your arms and down to the floor, cradling him. He was so visibly shaken that it made your heart sink. His lips quivered as he took in his surroundings. Just moments ago, he was scared for his life and hiding under a tarp, and now he was surrounded by a bunch of people that he barely knew, still scared for his life, but now you were there and to him, that was enough.

You silently rubbed circles into Eddie's back as he recounted the events of the night before. You stayed quiet at his side as Dustin tried to explain the history of madness that seemed to loom over your small town. Eddie looked at you every so often, trying to verify if what your little brother was saying was the truth, and you'd slightly nod; knowing that you'd have your chance to further explain later.

Once the others left, it was just you and Eddie. You had been alone with him before, countless times, but this time it was different. This time, it was Eddie who was looking to you to keep him safe, instead of the other way around. You paced the floor of the boathouse, looking for supplies, things that could be made into weapons, anything useful. You were able to find a couple of flashlights, a small heater, a can of gasoline, a hammer, and a boathook; not to mention Steve's oar, which could definitely be used to knock someone out, if needed. Eddie sat on the ground in the same spot he had been for the last hour and a half. His arms were wrapped around his legs and he was rocking slightly back and forth as he fidgeted with the rings on his hands. You opened the small fridge that Rick used to store extra beer and pulled a couple of cold bottles out, handing one to your friend.

"So you've dealt with this kind of thing before?" He asked before twisting off the bottle's cap and taking a swig. It seemingly seemed to calm his nerves momentarily. 

You sat opposite him, in front of him so that he could see your face- and see your truth- when you told him. You started at the very beginning, with Will and Hawkins Lab. You told him about everything; Eleven's powers, when Dustin came to you about Dart, the Russians at Starcourt Mall, Billy Hargrove, how half of the town had been possessed and didn't really die in a mall fire. He watched as you recounted your memories, brown eyes filled with concern as you described the things you had seen. A silence fell over you once you had finished, your eyes glued to the rickety floorboards of the boathouse as you waited for his response. 

"I promise you that whatever this is, Dustin- he'll figure it out. He somehow always does." You said quietly. “In the meantime, I’ll keep you safe.” 

"I trust you," he said and shifted his body so that he was sitting next to you. "You have no idea how- how relieved I was to see you."

You looked up at him, his dark eyes gazing softly down at you through thick lashes, and hoped that he couldn’t hear the thundering sound of your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to say something, but all of the words were getting stuck in the back of your throat and your mouth had become dry. So you gave him a small smile and took another sip of your beer, ignoring the feeling of false hope bubbling in your chest. The last thing you needed was to half convince yourself that Eddie’s words were any indication that he might have felt the same way. He had just been through a trauma, and he was happy to have his friend by his side, that was all. 

The flash of headlights passed over the ceiling of the boathouse and disappeared just as quickly. Eddie tore his eyes away from yours, anxiously looking around the dark space. You placed a hand on his thigh to level his nerves. “Hey, it’s okay,” you whispered. “You picked a pretty good hiding spot.” Your soft words seemed to work and he let out a deep sigh, leaning his body into yours and resting his head on your shoulder. "Get some sleep, okay?" You told him and felt him nod against your shoulder. "Tomorrow is a different day."

"Hey," he whispered after a few moments of silence. "Please don't leave."

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

The next morning, you were still in the same place- ass sore, legs numb, but you wouldn't have moved from that spot if someone had paid you a million dollars to do it. You were at least thankful that you were able to reach your novel out of your bag without waking the shaggy-haired boy currently using your shoulder as a pillow. He stirred softly before lifting his head and croaking out a, "good morning." It was almost nine o'clock, the sun was shining out over the lake, and you were sure that it wouldn't be long before you heard Dustin over the walkie. Eddie fingered the crust out of his eyes and looked out to the lake. You couldn't see it, but you knew that the reflection of the sun on the water was dancing across those beautiful brown eyes of his.

"D'you sleep at all?" He asked, turning his attention back to you. You shook your head and his brows pulled together, forehead wrinkling beneath his tousled bangs. "You stayed up all night?"

"My dear, Edward, I had to make sure that someone didn’t come to take you in the night.”

"Still," he replied with a small smile, crossing his legs underneath him before standing up.

"I’ll be okay,” you replied with a shrug. 

He was standing at the edge of the boathouse, staring out at the water; a gentle breeze lightly picked up the ends of his hair. You heard a small sigh escape his lips. “Do you remember when we used to come out here?” He asked, glancing back at you with lips turned up at the corners in the sweetest little smile. You stood to your feet and stretched your arms over your head before joining him at his side. “We’d stay up for hours just watching the way the wind blew over the water.”

Once again, that pesky feeling began to creep into your chest. You cleared your throat, “we should probably figure out where Dustin is.” Eddie’s smile faltered just slightly before he nodded his head. 

Almost on queue, your brother, followed by Max, Robin, and Steve flew through the boathouse door, holding bags of snacks and drinks. You and Eddie both jumped back from each other and you heard Eddie mumble something about there being beer, but being that you were the only one with a fake ID, you knew there wouldn't be any. Instead, in true Dustin Henderson fashion, there was Yoo-hoo and a hearty variety of sugary and savory snacks.

However, as great as the snacks he brought were, your brother didn’t bring the best of news. The police were looking for Eddie. He was their number one suspect, but they hadn't released his name to the public, yet. A silver lining. Yet, it was only a matter of time before they found him, and the timetable was quickly moving up.

That same day there was another murder; another student from Hawkins High. 

It was too close to the boathouse for your liking, so you all agreed that Eddie would be safer elsewhere. And for the first time in months, Steve’s parents were actually home and not on some kind of cruise or business trip. Robin’s mother worked from home, so that was a no-go. And, well, Max lived in the trailer park, so that left the Henderson residence- which, if you were being honest, it should have never been a debate in the first place. Eddie was always welcome at your house. Your mother loved him, but you knew that she probably wouldn’t love the idea of harboring a fugitive. That was okay, though, because you had snuck him into your bedroom at least a dozen times on the nights that you couldn’t sleep and she was none the wiser. 

So you all split up; Dustin and the rest of the group heading off with Nancy to follow some leads to see if they could find a connection to the murders, and you with Eddie. In the past you had usually found yourself right in the thick of whatever plan the Party had come up with, doing whatever you needed to do to save your brother and your friends, but Dustin wasn’t a kid anymore- none of you were. A part of you was thankful that you weren't going head-to-toe with about a thousand, razor sharp teeth and four-inch-long claws. You couldn’t help but worry about your little brother, though, whenever the two of you were separated, no matter how much you trusted Steve to keep him safe. 

“He’ll be okay,” Eddie whispered, nudging you with his elbow. 

You made Eddie ride in the trunk back to your house. Hawkins was a small town, and the drive from Rick’s to your place went straight through downtown- no way were you going to risk him being seen. Your mother’s car was in the driveway and the faint glow of the television illuminated the living room with a blue hue. Eddie snuck around the back of your house to your bedroom window where you’d meet him inside, it was dark, so you weren’t too worried about your neighbors seeing him. You went in through the front door, making small talk with your mom. You made some excuse about being tired before heading down the hallway to your room. She called after you, letting you know she was going to bed and reminded you of the leftovers in the fridge.  

Eddie was already sitting on your bed by the time you opened your bedroom door. He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your finger up to your lips. Seconds later, you could hear your mother’s footsteps passing by your door to her own room at the end of the hall. 

“Give it ten minutes and she’ll be snoring so loud you can hear it from outside.” You whispered faintly. Eddie smiled. “Did you want to take a shower?” He nodded his head. “Okay, I’ll go get the water started for you and heat you up some lasagna while you’re in there.” 

He held two thumbs up in agreement and you quietly snuck out of your room to the bathroom across the hall. Your mother liked everything pink; much to you and Dustin’s disdain. The towels were pink, the washcloths, the fluffy toilet seat cover, the rug, the walls, the soap, everything. You draped one of those towels over the rack next to the shower and turned on the hot water, a cloud of thick steam rising in the air. You tiptoed over to your mother’s door and pressed your ear to the cool wood. She was snoring, perfect. 

“She’s out,” you said a little louder than a whisper when you entered back into your room. “Hot water’s going for you. I think I have-” you tapped your index finger on your lips as you stepped over to your dresser, digging through the bottom drawer to pull out one of Eddie’s t-shirts and a pair of your dad’s old sweatpants. “Here we go.” 

You tossed the clothes over to Eddie. “I’ve been looking for this shirt.” 

“Sorry about that,” you couldn’t help but blush. “I was meaning to get it back to you.” That was a lie. 

“Thanks, Y/N,” He said, standing up and taking a few long strides to where you were standing by the door. He was so close you could smell the lingering scent of cigarettes and cheap cologne. “I really appreciate this.” 

You nodded and swallowed the knot in your throat, “of course, Eddie. You don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you, you know that.” 

“Yeah,” he replied with a smile with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah, I do.” 

He turned the knob and disappeared out of your room and into the bathroom. You let out the breath that you didn’t know you were holding, and it took a few moments to collect yourself before you slipped into the kitchen to heat up a heaping plate of lasagna; making sure to pull it out of the microwave before the timer went off. Eddie stalked into the kitchen shortly after, and you almost laughed at the sight of his head wrapped in a fluffy, pink towel. He stuck his tongue out at you before taking his seat at the kitchen table. It didn’t take long before he had scarfed down all of the pasta on his plate, whispering in between bites how great of a cook your mother was and how thankful he was for you. 

After you had washed the plate and glass that he had used, you returned to your bedroom where Eddie had made himself a small pallet on the floor out of spare blankets and throw pillows. 

“What are you doing?” You asked and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Sleeping on the floor?” He answered in a question, because it had been what he had always done. 

You shook your head, “I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“But-” He stammered, almost as if he was nervous, as he motioned to your twin size bed.

“Just get in the bed, Munson.” You chuckled. 

“Y-yes ma’am.” Eddie situated himself behind you, stiff in his movements, not wanting to make the wrong move. There truly wasn’t enough room for his lengthy limbs. “Uh- is- is this okay?” He asked and draped his arm around your middle. 

You prayed he couldn’t hear your heart; it was beating so hard and fast that it felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest. His body was so warm pressed against yours, and he was completely pressed against you in your tiny bed. Thankfully your back was to him or you’d be instantly given away by the red hot blush on your cheeks. All you could do was nod your head in reply to him, afraid that if you spoke you’d end up confessing your love to him when all you wanted to say was, “of course”. 

Despite your close friendship with him, you’d never physically been this close to him- aside from piggyback rides or hugs. Even if it was only due to the current circumstances, you relished in the feeling of being in Eddie’s arms. Soft, warm breaths fanned over the back of your neck as he nodded off, pulling you closer as he shifted in his sleep.

The next morning, you woke up with your head on his chest and a leg draped over his; he still held you flush against him. You were awakened by the sound of the front door closing, signaling your mother had left for work. Pale yellow morning sunlight illuminated your bedroom, casting lines and shadows along your walls. You moved slightly and Eddie was stirring awake, a small groan bubbled up from his throat as he stretched his legs. He looked down at you through his lashes and smiled softly. You could kiss him, God knows you wanted to; with his frizzy hair and half-lit eyes and that stupid grin on his face that you loved so much. 

“Good morning.” His voice was a whisper. 

“Mornin’,” you smiled back. 

“That was probably the best night’s sleep I have had in a while.”

“The bed wasn’t too small?” You asked and he shook his head. “Better than sleeping on the floor?”

“Definitely better than sleeping on the floor. I can’t even believe that you would try and suggest that last night. Haven’t I been through enough?” He joked and you scoffed at him, elbowing him in the side. “I motion for sharing the bed every time.” 

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from smiling so big your cheeks would probably split and hoped that you weren’t being completely obvious. “You want some breakfast?”

“Mm, yes please.” He replied, turning his face into your pillow. 

You got up and stretched before heading out into the kitchen. “Let’s see,” you hummed as you rummaged through the cabinets. “I’ve got pancakes, eggs, some sausage, and- cereal.” You called back to him. “Oh, there’s poptarts, too.” 

“Are there chocolate chips?” He asked, coming into the kitchen.

“There are!” You replied pulling out a ZipLoc bag full. 

“I’ll take chocolate chip pancakes,” he sounded just like a little kid as he propped himself up on the counter. “Can I help put the chips in?” 

Eddie, who really only knew how to make things that only required stirring it a few times, was enamored by you cooking breakfast. He watched, with saucer-sized eyes as you measured out your ingredients and whisked everything together. Every so often he’d ask what you were doing next or how you learned how to cook between popping chocolate chips in his mouth. As promised, you let him sprinkle the chocolate chips into the pancakes once you got a few into the pan. He carefully placed the chocolate morsels into the batter in the shape of a smiley face, or a heart, or a star. You even let him try his hand at flipping one, which he, sort of, miserably failed at given that the pancake landed on the floor. 

You spent most of the day playing board games, Go-Fish, and watching movies. You hadn't meant to turn on the news, in fact, you had been avoiding it at all costs for Eddie's sake- but after you had finished one of your movies, you accidentally switched it over to the cable; on the TV, Chief Powell and Officer Callaghan. There had been another murder. Another student from Hawkins. And to make matters worse, it was Jason Carver's best friend Patrick McKinney.

And that was when you heard tires pull into your driveway. It was much too early for your mother to be home, plus she had her book club after work today. You glanced over at Eddie whose brows were also pulled together in confusion and stepped over to the window, pulling the curtain slightly to see a black Jeep Cherokee and three boys inside, one of them you recognized to be Lucas Sinclair. Immediately your eyes checked to make sure your front door was locked, you wouldn’t put it past Jason Carver in his grief to break into someone’s home looking for the boy that he believes killed his girlfriend and now his best friend Patrick. 

“It’s Jason,” you whispered. 

“Shit.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “In my mom’s room, in her closet, there’s a pull down staircase to the attic. If someone even thinks about stepping foot in this house I’ve got my dad’s gun and I am not afraid to use it.” You could feel him eyeing you in surprise. “Go.”

Eddie disappeared down the hallway just as you instructed and you double checked the locks on the back door, as well, as you noticed one of Jason’s goons peeling off towards the side of the house. A fist began pounding on the front door and the doorbell rang close to fifty times. Jason, on the other side of the door, taunting you- yelling that he knew you were home and he just wanted to talk. 

You had worked for Mr. and Mrs. Carver for a few summers back, helping them with the store that they owned downtown. You might have even called Jason a friend at one point. Before he became popular, he was a nerd like the rest of you. But he had turned into this person that you no longer recognized once he became captain of the basketball team and when he began dating Chrissy Cunningham.

You stepped back into the hallway, out of sight from the windows but nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a loud thud coming from Dustin’s room. 

“Y/N?” You heard and immediately knew it was Lucas. 

“Lucas, what the hell!” You exclaimed in a whisper so that the other boys wouldn’t hear. 

“Is Eddie here? Is he safe?” He asked.

You looked at him, apprehensive at first, but you knew that Lucas was loyal to the Party. “Yes he’s here and I’m trying my hardest to keep him safe but-” you motioned to the front door. “What are you doing here!?” 

“These guys are serious,” he replied. “They’re not going to stop until they find him.” 

“You’ve got to do something Lucas, tell them you found something- something that would lead you to believe that Dustin and Eddie are hiding out at Hopper’s old cabin. It’s abandoned, the perfect place to hide.” Lucas nodded and moved to crawl back out of the window. “And Lucas,” you added. “The second that you get the chance to get away from these guys- last I heard everyone was headed to the school, you might want to get there as soon as you can.” 

With that, Lucas disappeared out of Dustin’s window. 

It wasn’t long after that you heard the sound of Jason’s Jeep peeling out of your driveway. 

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief; you weren’t afraid of them, but more so afraid of what would have happened if they would have tried to hurt you or Eddie. You were, at least, thankful that you had a little bit more time on your hands with Lucas leading them in the opposite direction and distracting them for just a little while longer. Hopefully, your brother and the rest of the Party had made some headway on the leads that they were following. 

Eddie was sitting with his legs crossed beneath him, an old scrapbook filled with baby pictures of you and Dustin in his lap. He looked up at you, relieved to see your face and not Jason’s. 

He held up the book to you, “Sorry,” he muttered. “I was trying to be as quiet as possible and needed something to keep myself from becoming an absolute nervous wreck. You were a cute kid.” 

You laughed through your nose, “Am I not cute now?” 

“What? No. I mean- yes!” His face was becoming red as he stammered. “I wasn’t insinuating that you aren’t cute now, just that you were a cute kid. You’re definitely cute now.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Anyways,” he rolled his eyes. “We all clear?”

“Yeah,” you replied and motioned for him to follow you back downstairs. “Lucas is leading them astray, so hopefully that will buy us some more time.”

“Sinclair?”

You nodded, “He was with them, which is surprising, but Lucas is one of Dustin’s oldest friends. I used to babysit him and Erica when they were younger. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, so I know that he’ll help us.” 

“The more people on my side the better.” Eddie said under his breath.

You turned to face him, “You’ve got a pretty great team in your corner. We’re going to figure this out.” He just nodded his head. Concern laced his eyes and you wished that there was something more than you could do to ease the anxiety that he was feeling. “Come on, let me make you some lunch.”

“Hey,” he called as you turned towards the kitchen. You turned quickly back to him, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to say something. “Nevermind,” he muttered instead. 

Dustin finally came through on the walkie about two hours later. You and Eddie huddled around the small receiver, hanging on every word your little brother said; the connection between the murders, the possibility of Vecna being able to open up gates, the history of the Creel house, Max. A lot had happened in the last 48 hours, and they felt as if they were so close to finding the answers they needed to clear Eddie’s name. 

Lastly, he wanted you and Eddie to meet the Party at Skull Rock to test a theory that he had. Skull Rock was about two miles south of your house if you walked straight through the woods. It wasn’t ideal to go gallavanting about thought the woods with your best friend, who was also wanted for murder and being chased by a few angry jocks, but he felt like it must have been pretty important if Dustin thought they needed to be there. You and Eddie didn’t really talk much on the way there. You could tell that he was deep in thought and you didn’t want to pry. If you knew anything about Eddie, it was that if he had something to say, he would say it. He didn’t usually hold back. 

Once you met up with everyone at Skull Rock, including Lucas, your brother explained his theory about his compass. He believed that, just like before, if you all followed his compass, it would lead directly to a gate. You trusted him, of course, everyone did. If he was right, this could be your one shot at Vecna. At clearing Eddie’s name. It was a chance that you had to take. So you head off deeper into the woods, your little brother leading the way. 

A looming anxiety hung in the air as you began to recollect past memories of a monster made from your friends and neighbors, watching Steve almost get killed by what began as a slug, and witnessing your friend’s step-brother die in front of your eyes. The thought of something like that happening to any one of the people in this group- or Will, Jonathan, El, Mrs. Byers, or Mike. Or your mother. You wouldn’t be able to handle that. You couldn’t. 

As day turned to night, you and your friends continued to trudge through the dense Indiana forests.

“We’re getting closer!” Dustin yelled as he ran through the woods. 

“Dustin, slow down!” Eddie yelled after him. 

Suddenly, Dustin came to a halt with Eddie behind him, holding onto his sweatshirt to keep him from running straight into Lover’s Lake. 

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Robin asked. 

“I told you this theory wouldn’t work,” Steve scoffed. 

“No,” Nancy began. “Whenever the Demogorgan attacked, it always left an opening. What if Vecna does the same?”

“We can’t swim out there, we don’t know what’s in there.” you included. “What about Rick’s boat?”

“That’ll work,” Steve agreed as he and the rest of the Party took off along the shore towards Rick’s boathouse. 

Eddie hung back, however. 

“Hey,” he said softly, falling in step behind you. “You okay?”

You nodded, pulling your mouth to the side and biting the inside of your cheek. It was a lie and one that Eddie could see right through, but you weren’t sure how to tell him that you were terrified. You didn’t know how to tell him that there was a very real possibility that someone could die, that this was real- it wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t pretend. You didn’t know how to tell him that you couldn’t live without him and that you would rather get yourself killed if it meant that he was safe. 

So you just say that you’re fine. Confessing your love would just have to wait until you both made it out of this alive. 

Steve and Eddie hoisted the boat into the water and Robin was the first one in, followed by Eddie. He turned and held his hand out to you, but you shook your head. 

“Someone has to stay with the kids.” You told him. 

Nancy brushed past you and into the boat. 

You could see Eddie debating staying with you but before he could make a move to step back out of the boat, Steve had pushed off from the dock and hopped in. Your heart sank knowing that if something happened, you wouldn’t be able to protect him. You watched as they made their way to the middle of the lake before slowing to a stop. Robin’s voice came over the radio to let Dustin know that his compass was spinning like crazy. If there was a gate down there, they were floating right above it, and that made you uneasy. 

With your eyes peeled, you could just barely make out Steve standing in the small boat to remove his shoes and his sweater. He was going to jump. You looked over at Dustin who’s features were plagued with worry and concern. Steve Harrington had become almost like a brother to Dustin, his role model. You silently reached over and squeezed his shoulder to reassure him that everything was going to be okay.

Seconds later, Steve dived into the depths of the lake, and all the four of you could do was watch. 

“Shit! Cops!” Max whispered behind you. “Get down”

You ducked and turned to see flashlights and uniforms headed your way.

“We can’t let them find Eddie.” Lucas whispered.

You began to panic, knowing that if they found him, you’d not only be jeopardizing the mission but also the lives of the Hawkins Police department. “I have an idea, stay with me.” Before you could explain, you jumped out from behind the tree you were hiding behind and yelled at the officers. “Officers! Over here I found the killer, this way!” 

Lucas, Max, Dustin, and the police were all running as quickly as they could after you. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. A few more minutes of doing nothing and the cops could have spotted Eddie and your friends out on that boat, you had to get them out of there. If you couldn’t be with him, you bet your ass that you would do whatever you could for him on the sideline. That, apparently, included getting arrested. 

You turned your head to make sure the kids were still behind you when you ran smack dab into the arms of Officer Callaghan. Dustin, Lucas, and Max were all being apprehended, as well. 

“Where you goin’?” The deputy asked with a stupid smirk. 

You weren’t sure why the police would take you to the Wheeler’s instead of the station, but when the four of you arrived, your mother, as well as Lucas’ parents and Erica, and Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler were waiting for you. The look of utter confusion and disappointment on your mother’s face made you frown; she was so emotional already, you hated that she was being dragged into this. You and Dustin had tried your hardest to keep her in the dark for the past two years. 

“What were you all doing at the lake?” Chief Powell asked.

The four of you were sitting on the couch, all eyes on you as you were the oldest and- supposed to be- the one in charge. The three kids looked to you for an answer. “We- uh, we were just going for a walk.”

“A walk at 9:00 PM?” Officer Callaghan rebutted. 

“To the lake!” Dustin cried nervously. You sighed, closing your eyes as your brother made this worse for you all. “We were going to take a little swim. A little night swim.”

“Dusty!” Your mother scolded. “Someone was just murdered there!”

“Y-yeah, we didn’t realize that until we got there.” Dustin answered.

“That’s why we didn’t swim!” Lucas added.

“And Nancy,” Mrs. Wheeler interjected. “Was she with you at this night swim?”

“Yes.” 

“No.”

“Nancy was there, and so were Steve and Robin, but they all left.” You stated out of annoyance at Dustin and Max who were making this a lot more complicated than it needed to be. “And when I said that I had found the killer,” you added. “That was just a joke.” 

“Have you had any contact with Eddie?” Chief Powell asked. 

“That psycho, freak killer?” Dustin asked, you cleared your throat. “No!”

“We barely know the guy.” 

“We haven’t heard from him in ages.” 

“This isn’t working,” Powell muttered under his breath with a shake of his head. “You,” he pointed a finger in your direction and you gulped. “Let’s go, I want to talk with you alone.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up from the couch, following Officer Powell to Ted Wheeler’s office. Officer Callaghan followed closely, closing the door behind you. You sighed in frustration as you took a seat, knowing that this wasn't going to help in any way. Eddie and your friends were out there, unprepared and alone, and you were being questioned by the police surrounded by boring, yellow wallpaper and baby pictures of Mike Wheeler.

“You know we want to help you,” Powell said polietly.

“No,” you replied. “You want to put Eddie behind bars and blame him for whatever weird shit is going on in this town that you’re not equipped to handle." Powell and Callaghan shared a look. "That’s all you’ve ever done is cover it up; Will Byers, the Hawkins Lab, Starcourt Mall. Yeah, I know about all of it, because I was there. You know Eddie is innocent.”

He sighed, “If Eddie is innocent, then why did he run?”

“Because he was scared that whatever killed Chrissy would kill him, too!” You answered. "You saw her, you expect me to believe that you'd just stand there and wait to be next?"

“Where is he now?” 

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully with a shrug and Callaghan scoffed. “I don’t!”

“You know,” Callaghan began. “Aiding and abetting a fugitive is a felony.” 

“Then arrest me,” you spat.

Powell sighed again, “We’re not going to arrest you. Just tell us where Eddie is.”

“Like I said, I don’t know.” You stood up. “So, if you’re not going to arrest me, I suggest you let me leave.”

You brushed past the two officers and out the door. The parents were huddled in the living room but there was no sign of Dustin and the others. That was until you spotted him on the stairs, peeking around the corner. He motioned for you to follow him.

“What did you tell them?” He asked in a whisper as you headed upstairs. 

“That they’re idiots,” you replied. “In more or less words.” 

“We have a plan.” Dustin opened the door to Nancy’s room to reveal Max and Erica, Lucas was already hanging out of the window. “So you know how there was a gate in Lover’s Lake?” He asked as Max went to follow Lucas. “Well, our very smart friends decided to go through it.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks. “Wait,” you put your hands on Dustin’s shoulders, forcing him to look you in the eye. “Eddie is in the Upside Down?”

“Yes, but he’s safe.” Dustin replied and you sighed in relief. “We think there is a gate at every murder site. So we’re going to get out of here and meet them at Eddie’s trailer and hopefully they can come back through that gate” 

Erica was next out of the window. 

“Do you know how cool it is to have a genius for a little brother?” You asked as you ducked between the window panes and hopped down to the roof of the garage. 

“Yeah well,” Dustin followed you. “You’re not too bad, yourself.” 

You jumped on the bikes and headed straight for Eddie’s trailer as fast as you could. It would be a long ride, but you pedaled as if your life depended on it. As if Eddie’s life depended on it. Your legs were burning as you turned into the gravel of Forest Hills Trailer Park, almost making you collapse as you stood on two feet, tossing the bike down to the ground.

When you got into the trailer, your eyes immediately widened at the sight of the ceiling, which had opened up into an oozing, red fissure. 

"Holy shit," you muttered under your breath.

"Holy shit is right," Max said sarcastically looking around at the Munson's living room. She stopped as her eyes fell onto a strip of movie theater photos of you and Eddie that was pinned to his refrigerator with a magnet. "That's cute."

“Not now, Max.” You replied.

Dustin grabbed a broom and hesitated for a moment, sharing a look with the other kids in the room, before jamming it through the thick red gunge. As you peered through the mucus, you could see the other side; a dark version of the same trailer you were currently standing in. Craning your neck, you looked for any sign of Eddie and the others, and finally, your eyes landed on Steve stepping through the darkness. You smiled at the sight of him, followed by Robin and Nancy, and finally Eddie; his giant, brown eyes connecting with yours, making your smile grow. A weight was lifted off of your chest. 

Dustin laughed, impressed with himself. 

“Max, Lucas,” you instructed, not taking your eyes off of Eddie. “Go grab the mattress in the back room and bring it in here. I don’t know how this is going to work, but if they’re going to be falling out of the ceiling, they’re going to need a soft landing.” 

“I have a theory!” Dustin exclaimed, Steve rolled his eyes; hands on his hips. 

He brushed past you, following Max and Lucas to Eddie’s bedroom and ripped the top sheet off of the bed. He then plopped down at the little kitchen and immediately began working on tying knots in the sheets. Max and Lucas pulled the mattress across the linoleum floor and dropped it in the middle of the living room. You could hear Eddie making a comment about the stains that dirtied his sheets and pursed your lips together knowing that they were from accidentally getting too high and spilling the bong water. You helped Erica move anything out of the way that might get broken during whatever it was that was about to transpire. 

“Alright,” Dustin said as he finished with the rope. He stepped into the middle of the mattress and looked up into the faces of his friends. “I don’t know how the physics of this is going to work but-” He tossed the rope upwards into the gate- to your surprise, it fell perfectly through the opening to the other side. “And if I’m correct-” Dustin released his grip on the rope and it stayed in place. 

You gave your brother a high five and a hug for his genius as everyone else cheered. 

Robin was the first to climb through, her body flipping through the air and down to the mattress as soon as she made it through. “That was fun!” She smiled, you held out a hand to help her up. 

Eddie began climbing up next. “That was fun!” He exclaimed as he came down. Robin helped him up, but as soon as he got to his feet, you wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could. “Hey, sweetheart,” he laughed.

“Oh my God, I was so worried.” You mumbled into his chest. 

“So was I,” he replied softly, placing a small kiss on the top of your head.

Nancy came flying through the gate next, pulling your attention back to the room. She didn’t seem like she enjoyed it as much as the first two, however. Steve was last, flipping through the portal with ease, making Robin roll her eyes. You noticed that he was injured and motioned to his midsection which was bandaged. 

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” He shrugged.

With eight people now crowding the already tiny trailer, you began feeling slightly claustrophobic. Excusing yourself, you brushed past the rest of the Party and through the door to get some fresh air. The chilly, March air was refreshing as you shoved your hands down into your jacket pockets and pulled it around your frame. The trailer park was mostly dark; only dimly lit by a single street lamp that buzzed quietly overhead as moths swarmed around the light. 

You took a few steps to the lonely picnic table that sat empty in the shadows. Most of the residents were sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware that there was a portal to another dimension in their neighbor’s trailer. More than half of them would probably say that it was Eddie, himself, who opened that portal as he worshiped Satan on the floor of his living room; which couldn’t be farther from the truth. However, the people of Hawkins, Indiana weren’t very bright, instead they were incredibly gullible, listening to and believing anything that WTTV4 told them was the truth. 

This town didn’t deserve Eddie. 

You heard the trailer door open and shut. Taking your eyes off of the moon, you looked over to see Eddie. His anky figure stepped out of the darkness and into the dim light of the street lamp. 

“Hey,” he said softly.  

“Hey yourself.” You smiled up at him. He climbed up on the picnic table to sit next to you, leaning into your side as he got comfortable. “So, how was your first experience in the Upside Down?” 

“It was an experience, to say the least.” He mentioned, toying with the chunky, silver rings on his fingers. You noticed pretty early on in your friendship that he fidgeted with his rings often when he was nervous or anxious. 

You placed a hand over his to calm his nerves, “You want to talk about it?” 

“Just one thing, really.” His voice was so soft. “When I was out there, I saw something. It uh- it wasn’t like monsters or anything like that, it was- I saw- well, I realized that I- I would jump for you.” You looked at him, not having a clue what he was trying to say, but before you could say anything he continued. “Something grabbed Harrington,” he explained. “Pulled him under, through the gate, and Wheeler- she just dived right in. No hesitation. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re that person for me. I’m jumping off that boat.”

“Eddie,” you couldn’t help but smile. “What are you saying?”

“I love you is what I’m saying,” he rubbed his hands over his face. “Pretty sure I always have.”

“Tell me again,” you whispered and looked up into his dark brown eyes through your lashes, needing to hear him say it one more time. 

His hand moved up to cup your face and you shivered at the contact of his large, calloused hand on your skin. “I love you.” He whispered before placing his perfect lips on yours in a tender kiss. 

You pulled away, only briefly, to say one thing. “I love you, too.” 

[aylasrants]

he’s an idiot but i love him

is it casual now?

Prompt: You and Eddie totally aren't dating, right?

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader, brief mentions of Steve Harrington x Reader.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Author’s Note: Happy birthday @felteppsters

Playlist: Casual by Chappell Roan

Warnings: Smut & fluff.

If you had a dollar for every time someone asked if you and The Freak were dating, you'd have made four dollars this week alone.

And it's only Tuesday.

You didn't go out of your way to spend time with Eddie Munson, and he never once asked if you wanted to hang out outside of school, but somehow you always managed to find yourself getting fingered in the back of his van in the parking lot during study hall. And he was known to drop a note in your locker on occasion asking you to meet him in that one bathroom that no one ever used for a quickie during lunch.

But that was neither here nor there.

The point was that people were beginning to notice.

It wasn't a bad thing. It's not like dating Eddie would ruin your reputation- despite what some people would say. It was just that when people asked if you and Eddie were dating, you didn't know how to answer because you, yourself, were not exactly sure what that answer was.

So you just said no, and you probably said it a little too defensively.

Does hooking up occasionally count as dating? No. In order to be dating someone you had to at least go out on an actual date, right? The night he took you to his trailer to 'fuck you in a real bed' and ordered pizza delivery didn't count, either, no matter how long you cuddled with him afterwards.

"I heard a rumor," it was Robin. She fell in step with you as you both exited fourth-period Algebra and headed toward the cafeteria. "And I just need a little bit of clarification, so forgive me if what I'm about to ask is-"

"I swear to God, Robin, if you're about to ask me if I'm dating Eddie Munson," you held up your hand and cut her off, stopping short in the middle of the hallway; your boots scuffing the speckled white tile floor, causing a slight traffic jam of bodies.

"What!?" She gasped. Either she was a really great actress or she genuinely hadn't heard. "There's a rumor going around that you're dating Eddie Munson?"

"No?" you deflected and picked up the pace. "What did you hear?"

"That you're dating Eddie Munson." With that, your face fell and she pulled her lips between her teeth to keep herself from laughing. "Well, is it true? Because Maria Fuentes heard from Charlie Dawson that Tina saw you guys in the parking lot last Friday and she did not hold back on the details."

"First of all," you said stopping at your locker. "I feel violated."

"Well, you were, you know-" Robin held up her fingers and made a lewd gesture causing you to cringe.

"Second of all-" You began again, only to be cut off by a folded piece of paper falling from your locker to the floor as you opened the flimsy, metal door. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Robin quickly bent down and snatched the note from under you before you had the chance.

"You were saying?" She asked, a playful smirk pulling at her lips as she dodged every one of your attempts to take the note back from her. "Meet me. You know where. Signed, E.M." She read aloud. "Oh, look, there's even a little heart. That is so cute!"

"Second of all," you repeated after you had snatched the crumpled paper from her hands. "We are not dating."

Eddie's lips were on yours the moment the bathroom door closed behind you; before you were even able to flip the lock. You hadn't seen him since last Friday, and you could easily tell that he had gotten needy over the weekend. You wanted to enjoy the moment, but all that you could think about was this rumor.

He took a few steps forwards, pushing you back to the double sink until you were sitting on the counter; pushing himself between your legs, his hands falling to your sides, fingertips digging into your flesh. His lips were everywhere, biting and sucking hungrily as he squeezed every inch of your body he could get his hands on.

You placed your palm firmly on his chest and lightly pushed him away from you. He took a step back and you took in his appearance; tight denim jeans, a flannel wrapped around his hips, t-shirt just slightly messy enough to reveal a scruffy happy trail below his navel. His jeans were especially tight in the crotch, and his eyes were dark with desperation as he returned your gaze. He ducked his head to meet your lips once again, but you turned your head and ensured his lips fell to your cheek instead.

"Something's definitely up with you," he said softly as he placed another kiss on your temple.

He looked so good and made you feel so good, you just wanted to pull him back down to you and fuck him in this bathroom for the umpteenth time, but you couldn't. He stepped back and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket; looking so cool as he placed one between his lips and took a long drag, sending smoke billowing around the tiny room.

"You haven't heard?" You asked. He shrugged. "Someone saw us Friday in your van and now the entire school thinks we're dating."

"Oh," he let our a sarcastic chuckle. "And that's a problem for you, I guess? Can't be seen with the freak, right?"

"No," you rolled your eyes at the fact that he would even suggest that. "I just didn't know if- are we?"

He shrugs again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I thought it was just casual."

"Casual?" You ask, and he nods. "Okay, well, I have to go. My next class is all the way on the other side of the building and I don't want to be late."

He can tell by your tone that you're upset.

"What do you want me to say?" He asks, making one last attempt to make you stay as you pick up your book bag from the floor.

"Nothing."

"You're pissed," he actually reached for you this time, but you shrugged him off.

"No," you replied. "I'm just-" you paused for a moment looking for the right words. "I'm casual." He winced. "Have a good day, Eddie."

You wanted to slam the door in his face, but it wasn't that type of door, so you opted for storming off loudly. As you rounded the corner you knocked shoulders with some girl from the Cheerleading squad who yelled at you to watch where you were going, but you didn't care to respond. Your legs were carrying you as quickly as they could without breaking into a full sprint down the halls of Hawkins High.

It wasn't a lie when you stated that your next class was on the other side of the school. You were sweating by the time you reached your desk. Robin had gotten there first, slumped back in her assigned seat with a smirk on her face as you sat down, trying to catch your breath.

"Long commute?" She asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Shut the hell up, Buckley." You snapped.

"Uh oh," she held her hands up in defense. "Must be some trouble in paradise."

"I told you earlier, Eddie and I are not dating."

"Roger that."

The last bell couldn't come soon enough. All that you wanted to do was get home and get into bed- and preferably cry into a bowl of ice cream. You'd have never imagined yourself crying over the likes of Eddie Munson, but the thought of losing whatever it was that you had with him was upsetting.

He was your friend, after all. You had a lot in common with him. He could make you laugh and there was no shortage of conversation when you were around him. He was always getting shit from his friends, but you loved the fact that he never shut the hell up. And when there wasn't a conversation to be had, there was always music; whether it was his long list of cassette tapes or him strumming away on his guitar, there was never a dull moment.

And here you were ruining it over a label.

Robin held the door open for you as you both stepped out into the warm summer weather. Waves of students began lining up in the parking lot for their respective busses, but you typically walked home when the weather was nice.

"So since you're not dating Eddie Munson," Robin began and you couldn't help but roll your eyes so hard that it almost gave you a headache. "I was wondering if you might want to go on a double date with Vickie and myself?"

"A double date typically involves two couples."

"Right, you're absolutely right." Robin was stuttering. "I have this friend and he is also single. Problem solved."

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"Wh- Why?"

"Because I have nothing in common with Steve and Steve is a prick," you replied bluntly.

Robin rolled her eyes. "He's actually not, like, at all. Besides, I talk about you all the time to him and he said that he would really like to meet you."

"He must have forgotten that he spent the majority of my freshman and sophomore year bullying me with Tommy H and Carole," you muttered under your breath.

Your friend reached out and grabbed you by the shoulder, stopping you in place and spinning you around to face her. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked her in the eye.

"That was a long time ago. I wasn't a huge fan of him when I first met him, either." She gave you a lopsided smile and you found her attempts to win her friend a date with you amusing. "I promise you that it's worth a shot. So, if you change your mind, we're going roller skating on Saturday night."

"You rollerskating?" You laughed and heard a car honk a few times as it pulled up.

"You're so funny!" She stated sarcastically.

Steve gave you a derpy smile as he rolled the passenger side window down. He was wearing his Family Video vest. "Good afternoon, ladies." He called out smoothly, you returned with a small wave.

"Sleep on it?" Robin asked as she opened the door to Steve's car.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "I'll think about it."

Robin smiled as she ducked into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Saturday came sooner than expected, and you had to admit that you were nervous. If someone had told you a year ago that you'd be going on a date with Steve Harrington, you'd probably punch them in the throat. Hell, if someone told you that a week ago, you'd still be swinging.

You had avoided Eddie at all costs throughout the rest of the week. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little disappointed there were no notes left in your locker, or that he didn't find some way to talk to you after you left him standing in that bathroom Tuesday afternoon. You even waited up some nights hoping for a phone call or a pebble on the window, but none came.

It took over an hour and half to pick an outfit. Almost every article of clothing you owned was crumpled on the floor or tossed on the bed as you tried on a dozen different outfit combinations. It was the roller rink, so you wanted to be comfortable, but it was technically a date, so you also wanted to at least seem like you tried. Finally, as the clock ticked closer to seven, you decided on jeans, an off-shoulder top, and your Converse. You really didn't care to impress Steve Harrington; you didn't care in freshman and sophomore year and you certainly didn't now.

"I thought you said you had a date," your mother mentioned as you stepped into the living room. She was on the couch watching Who's The Boss, a jar of mixed nuts in her lap.

"I am," you replied as you shrugged into your denim jacket. She looked you up and down and you rolled your eyes. "We're going rollerskating; comfort was the priority!"

The distant sound of a car horn honking interrupted the conversation, prompting you to glance out the front door. Steve, acting as the evening's chauffeur, awaited with Robin and Vickie in the backseat.

"Don't be out too late," your mother muttered between mouthfuls of peanuts. "But enjoy yourself."

As the heavy glass door swung open, a wave of familiar sounds and vibrant colors enveloped your senses. The Rollerdome was typically busy on a Saturday night, but tonight it seemed everyone in Hawkins had the same idea to go skating. The neon lights that adorned the rink's interior created a kaleidoscope of vivid hues; fluorescent pinks, electric blues, and neon greens adorned the walls, blending with the glow of disco balls suspended from the ceiling. Upbeat pop music and the thud of roller skates on the smooth, wooden floors flooded your ears as Robin and Steve bickered over which table to claim for the evening.

"I vote this one," Robin declared with unwavering confidence, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That way, we've got front-row seats to all the wipeouts!"

"That is the exact reason why no one sits at this table, Robin," Steve countered with exasperation. "Everyone knows that the floor is slick there and when someone takes a spill, it's usually right into the table." He pauses before looking at you. "Bye-bye chili dogs."

You can't help but suppress a small smile, "I think it's perfect. If there's a chance one of those uppity assholes comes flying face first into our table, it'll be the highlight of my entire year."

"Can't argue with that logic," Steve added quickly. "Good choice, Robin."

She rolled her eyes and dragged Vickie off towards the rental counter. You casually tossed your bag on the top of the table; a clear marker that it was claimed. Steve removed his jacket and placed it next to your bag before running a hand through his thick, dark hair. It was clear that he was nervous as his eyes darted around the roller rink. He definitely didn't give off the same 'King Steve' aura that you remembered so well.

Maybe you'd give him a chance.

Just kidding.

You turned on your heel and walked off towards the snack bar, drawn in by the delicious aroma of extra cheese pizza and buttered popcorn, leaving Steve scrambling to catch up with your determined stride. Robin wanted a pretzel and a Coke slushy while Vickie had asked for cheese fries and an orange soda. You wanted nachos but agreed when Steve ordered to split a pizza, doing his best to impress you as he paid for everyone, but instead, all he got out of you was a slight eye roll. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Vickie lead a wobbly Robin out onto the rink. A chuckle escaped your lips as you witnessed their valiant attempts to navigate the rink without falling prey to the more seasoned skaters.

"So what are you into?" Steve asked as he filled up his drink at the fountain machine. "What do you like?"

"Uh," you weren't really sure what to say. You still couldn't really get past the fact that Steve Harrington was trying to have a conversation with you. "I like music."

"Yeah?" He asked. "I like music."

"Cool."

"This is a good song," he replied and pointed awkwardly to the overhead speakers while Another One Bites The Dust by Queen played loudly.

You couldn't help but think of the irony and did your best to suppress a laugh before Steve got the impression that you thought he was funny. Oh, how this date was failing epically; which you were already anticipating, so at least you hadn't gotten your hopes up about it. Steve was almost trying too hard to force a spark between the two of you, but without Robin around- which was often because she was too busy flailing about on her skates while Vickie tried her hardest to keep her from falling- it was absolutely boring.

At least the two of them seemed to be having a good time.

As the night continued on, you found yourself gradually shedding the initial reserve that had clung to you like a second skin. The pulsating rhythm of the music, the laughter of your friends, and the infectious joy of gliding across the smooth floor started to work its magic. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Steve, Vickie, and Robin circled the rink alongside you, sharing jokes and banter.

"I need something to drink!" You yelled over the music at your friends before carefully exiting the floor onto the carpet.

Steve exited with you, gliding up to the table with ease; moving around you to the music, dancing on his skates. The hesitant glances you'd given him earlier transformed into playful exchanges, and you couldn't help but admit that his efforts to charm you had slowly but surely begun to work.

As Robin and Vickie continued to skate around the rink, something caught your eyes in the corner; a familiar, curly head of brown hair in the back towards the arcade. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his brown eyes pinned to you as his friends huddled around one of the pinball machines.

You smirked softly as the music changed. In the background you could hear Steve talking, but you were too busy having a staring contest with Eddie from across the room.

"So what d'ya say?" Steve asked.

"What?" You asked, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from Eddie.

"It's a slow song," he mentioned. You could see a blush creeping to his cheeks. "Did you want to couple's skate?"

You agreed, allowing Steve to take your hand and lead you out onto the rink. It was wrong of you to use Steve in the way that you were, especially since you were just starting to like him. But the satisfaction that you felt seeing Eddie roll his eyes as you and your date skated by was too good to pass up. And yes, you faked the giggles and latched on to Steve's arm a little more with each time you passed Eddie, really twisting that knife as much as you could.

But hey, it was just "casual" right?

As the song came to a close and Steve led you by the hand back to your table. You couldn't help yourself but to glance back to the corner of the rink towards the arcade, only to see Eddie push himself off of the wall and stomp off towards the exit.

"I'll be right back," you called over to Steve as the song ended. "I need to get some fresh air."

"I'll come with!" Steve offered but you placed a hand on his arm to stop him before he could unlace his skates.

"I'll be okay," you assured him with a sweet smile. "I'll be right back."

Hurriedly, you unlaced your skates and shoved your feet into your worn-down tennis shoes before chasing after Eddie. The summer air was still very humid as you stepped out of the cool air conditioning and into the parking lot. The sunset was barely lingering on the horizon and the sky was a mixture of periwinkle and orange. To your right, you could see Eddie walking away from you and towards his van.

"Hey!" You called to him. He turned around to see it was you and threw his head back dramatically before turning back to his van. "What is your problem?"

"Steve Harrington, really?" He spat, turning to you once again.

"Oh, come off it!" You replied, closing the gap between you. "Jealousy does not suit you, babe."

"Steve fucking Harrington?" He asked again. "I mean what do you even talk about with that guy? Different variations of the color beige?"

"At least he can stand to be seen with me in public!"

You were standing toe-to-toe with him now, chests heaving. His eyes squinted as he stared down at you.

"You want to be seen in public?" He asked. "Careful what you ask for, princess."

Before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, maneuvering you to his van; walking you backward until your back was pressed up against the side door. "Hopefully Harrington will wander out here looking for you." He reached a hand behind you, swinging the door open, and pushed you in. "He gives me the impression of someone who likes to watch."

Eddie crawled into the van after you, leaving the door open, not caring who saw or heard. His lips were on yours in an instant. You moaned as he ducked his head into your neck, working your nerves as he popped the button on your jeans. He didn't even care to pull them all the way off, or your shoes for that matter. As soon as he had pulled your pants down far enough to expose your pussy to him, he held your legs over his head and began thumbing your clit; spreading a slick coat of wetness along your swollen lips. He lifted you up, throwing your legs over his shoulder as his tongue hungrily delved into your core.

You gasped in surprise, hands flying to his hair, wrapping around the thick of his roots. You could hear him fumbling with his belt buckle as his tongue worked your dripping folds. Once he had freed his girthy cock, he lowered you down, still holding your legs over his shoulders with his arms now snaked around your thighs as he lined himself up with your core.

Without warning, he shoved his cock into the deepest part of you, feeling you tighten and loosen around his length. You moaned loudly, forgetting that the side door to his van was still wide open.

"Should I send you back to King Steve filled with my cum?" He grunted as he thrusted against you. "Let him hold your hand as you feel me dripping into those cute, little panties?"

Your eyes rolled back as he continued to pump into you.

"Look at you," he whimpered, so close already to finding his own release. He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip and you took his digit into you mouth. "Fuck!"

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls as he filled you with warm ribbons of his cum. Eddie crashed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him off of you with a sigh. You were already pulling your jeans up over your hips and fixing your shirt.

"What is it now?" He asked.

"It's nothing, Eddie." You replied.

"Oh, it's something."

You said nothing and stood up out of his van. Half of you wanted to just walk away and leave him there, like you had on Tuesday, but you couldn't do that again. You were miserable after the first time you did that- so miserable that you agreed to go on a date with Steve Harrington, of all people. This time you turned to him, looking him dead in the eye as you tried to find the right words.

"I'm not just some easy girl, Eddie." You spat at him. "I allowed you to fuck me in the parking lot, and in the bathroom, and in the auditorium that one time because I like you. I guess- I just thought that you liked me, too. I thought I was more than just some girl that you go down on in the passenger seat of your van, but I was wrong."

He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your hand up to stop him, wanting to get it all out.

"You just want sex," you continued. "You don't want to date me, you don't want me to be your girlfriend, you just want something casual, and I'm not that."

"What are you, then?" He asked.

"Leaving."

He said nothing as he watched you turn away, leaving him completely dumbfounded. For once, you felt like you had the upper-hand in this game the two of you had been playing for months now.

The walk from Eddie's van to the front doors of the Rollerdome felt like miles as the gravel of the pavement crackled beneath your feet with each step. You half expected him to run after you, take you in his arms, and confess his love for you, but you were met with nothing but silence. With a final glance over your shoulder, you reentered the roller rink, leaving Eddie to grapple with the unspoken complexities that lingered in the warm, Summer air.

The electric energy of the rink greeted you, once again; a stark contrast to the mood you had created in the parking lot. You didn't want to be here any longer and decided upon re-entry that you were just going to go home. Robin, Vickie, and Steve were all huddled around the table as another slow ballad played loudly through the speakers.

"There you are!" Robin greeted with a lukewarm slice of pizza in her hand. She took immediate notice of your changed demeanor and asked, "is everything okay?"

"No," you replied quickly as you grabbed your jacket. "I think I am just going to go home."

"Home?" Robin asked. "Now?" She stood up and pulled you over to the side away from Steve and Vickie. "Does this have anything to do with Eddie? I saw you running out after him earlier."

"Just forget it, Robin, okay?" You sighed as you turned towards her. You looked over her shoulder to see Steve and Vickie watching you. You lowered your voice, "It's over, okay? Yes, I'm upset about it and I hate that I'm upset about it. I wasn't expecting to actually like him."

Robin sighed, "I didn't realize it was like that, I'm sorry."

You shrug your shoulders and shove your hands in your jacket pockets. "It's fine, I'll get over it."

She gave you a half smile, "can we at least give you a ride. I'm sure Steve won't mind driving."

"I'm just going to walk," you muttered. "It's not far."

"Alright, catch you on Monday! Last week of senior year!" She exclaimed and raised her hands, mimicking pompoms for added flair. She outstretched her arms and wrapped them around you and provided a tight squeeze.

"Can't wait," you groaned unenthusiastically.

Monday came and went and before you knew it, the final bell of Friday rang throughout those hideous green and gold hallways as a sea of graduates congregated in the gym; tossing their shimmering green caps into the air, signaling the beginning of the rest of your lives. In one hand, your diploma and in the other, your yearbook filled with well-wishes and promises to keep in touch-- most of which you hoped would forever be unkept.

Robin found you outside in the courtyard after she had managed to escape her parents.

"Here's to the first summer of the rest of our lives," she said breathlessly. "Steve and I are going to the mall if you want to come, spend some of this graduation cash from my grandparents."

"I'm okay," you smiled at her. "Raincheck?"

"If you say so," she rolled her eyes. "Where are your folks?"

"My dad had a little too many of those little sandwiches they were giving out," you made a face. "Mom had to take him home early."

"I'm sure my parents could give you a ride home, if you wanted," she said with a soft smile.

Over her shoulder you watched as Eddie, still draped in his cap and gown, rushed off towards the back of the parking lot. "That's okay, I have a ride," you replied with a smirk.

You gave her a hug and slipped away; turning on your heel and escaping the crowd through the parking lot. As the cars grew thin, you noticed a familiar white van in the back, parked in its usual spot. The side door was open and Eddie was sitting in the back; a cigarette in between his lips and his guitar in his lap. His diploma was tossed up on the dashboard, and his cap and gown were tossed in the passenger seat.

He strummed skillfully as you walked up the side of his van. His eyes were lulled shut and his head was titled back on the headrest. He hummed softly and your lips couldn't help turning into a smile. He was so undeniably perfect and he didn't even know it.

"Is that new?" You had been hanging out with Eddie long enough now to know his songs by heart. He always asked your opinion on his songwriting.

His eyes fluttered open, but his fingers continued strumming. You could see his gaze taking you in as you effortlessly leaned against the passenger door. He shrugged lazily and tilted his head back once again, staring up at the scuffed metal ceiling of his van.

"I was feeling inspired," he finally replied as he exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "It's about a terrible, evil temptress who collects the souls of the men of the realm." You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Until one day, she meets a kind and handsome young man who doesn't have a soul to give. So instead, he gives her his heart."

"Sounds a bit dramatic," you replied as you tried to hide the smile creeping to your lips, once more.

"I was thinking about the other night," his fingers stopped strumming as he reached up to pull the cigarette from his lips. He exhaled another cloud of smoke.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, see," he took another drag from his smoke. "I do like you and I do want you to be my girlfriend, always have."

You threw up your hands, "It's hard for me to believe that, Eddie! We fuck nearly every day but you can't take me out on one date? How am I supposed to believe that you want me to be your girlfriend if you can't even respect me enough to take me out!?"

"We have too gone on dates! I bought you pizza that one time!" He exclaimed as he set his guitar back down in the case and snapped it shut. "And we watched your favorite movie!"

"We watched Troll," you deadpanned.

"Yeah, we did," he replied as he stood up out of the van. He towered over you as he stood up straight. "And after it was over you said that it was your new favorite movie."

"I was being SARCASTIC!"

"God damnit!" He spat right back.

"You took me back to your trailer because you were tired of fucking me in this van!" His jaw dropped at the accusation. "And the only reason you ordered pizza was because there was nothing else to eat and you struggle to even microwave a frozen TV dinner!"

His hand flew over his chest as he gasped. "You really are an evil and terrible temptress! Your words are venomous!"

You sighed, "Tell me honestly... is there something wrong with me?"

"You think there's something wrong with you?" Eddie asks, a small laugh escaping his perfect lips. He shakes his head and moves his hands up your arms to your shoulders, looking at your straight on. "Sweetheart, you're perfect."

A blush creeps to your cheeks and you can practically feel yourself melting in his hands.

"You're perfect, like, way too good for me," he continued, a bashful grin playing on his lips. "I should've said it before, a million times."

"You think?" You asked.

"Let's just start over, okay?" He pleaded and jutted his hand out to you as if he was asking for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Eddie. Will you be my girlfriend?"

You narrowed your eyes as you glanced down at his hand, pursing your lips in a futile attempt to suppress a smile. Fuck, you hated how goddamn charming he was. Giving up fully to him, you accepted his hand. Though, before you could utter a single word, he pulled you in for a lingering kiss that left you breathless.

"Say yes," he whispered as he pulled away, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Yes," you whispered as you look up into his dark brown eyes.

[aylasrants]

this so beautiful i want to stab my enemy from another kingdom who i’m forced to work with and who’s about to become my lover with it

Dagger with Sheath | Turkish | 19th century | Met Museum

[aylasrants]

oh and people who write fanfics are not "less talented" than people who write original works as their main source of income, by the way. fanfic writers aren't "all children going through a phase". they're writers who put in time, efforts and dedication just like any other writers, the only difference is that, instead of making their writing a career to earn themselves money, they write for free, out of pure passion, because they love the characters they're writing about so much that they're writing novel-length fics about them. you look uneducated af by using "fanfic writer" as an insult to imply fanfic writers aren't as valid or talented as writers who earn money from their works, especially when I've read so many fanfics that are a lot better and more professionally written than some best-selling books out there.

[aylasrants]

YOUR HONOR, I LOVE HIM!!!

Eye Contact

Here have this Eddie comforting/being nice to reader fic i definitely didn't write bc I was feeling bad about my anxiety '_' Eddie is a very nice weirdo in this and I love him.

Warnings: reader has bad anxiety, mentions of an anxiety attack, minor mentions of tactile hallucinations bc those fkng suck, cussing, I think that's it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Open your eyes."

The demand throws you mentally off balance, eyes shooting open to stare at the teacher standing in front of you, the sentence you were in the middle of dying on your lips.

"What?" You smile nervously, feeling the looks from the other students sitting around you.

Mrs. Silmore, the history teacher, looked less than pleased by your question, her hands resting on her hips as she stares you down.

"You keep closing your eyes when you talk, and avoiding eye contact. It's very rude."

You hadn't noticed you were doing that, but the flood of embarrassment washes over you like a cold front, palms suddenly sweaty and mouth dry. You believe her, you knew you struggled with eye contact because of your anxiety, but you didn't know it was that bad, and certainly not that noticeable. And you didn't know you closed your eyes, but now that's all you can think about as you try to say something.

You had been answering a question about the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, feeling somewhat proud for making yourself raise your hand, something you were now regretting.

"Oh, oh um, I'm sorry.." You stutter out, feeling the heat flush to your cheeks as a few kids snicker, your mind going blank, "I was saying that...that uh..if he hadn't, hadn't been..there…" The snickers get louder, or maybe they don't, maybe they're just echoing through your head, bouncing around and ricocheting off the thoughts of "you're a freak" "who closes their eyes while talking?" "You're not normal" "you're not normal you're not normal you're not normal"

"Sorry," you mumble, voice pathetically small, willing yourself to keep eye contact, "I lost my train of thought."

"Hm," Mrs. Silmore walks back to the blackboard, finally looking away, "anyone else?"

Your eyes drop to your desk and stay there for the rest of class, trying to ignore the anxiety induced itch creeping along your arms. Freak. You just can't be normal, can you? The bell signals the end of your quiet suffering, and you stand to hurry out of the room, apologizing when you accidentally bump into someone in your haste, speeding out of the room before they even reply. Out in the hall you side step and avoid the barreling masses as you try to make your way to the bathroom, a ball forming and growing in your chest, crawling up your throat and making it hard to breathe. You burst through the bathroom door and grab hold of a sink, taking deep shuddering breaths as your fingers grip the basin, eyes squeezed shut. In, 1 2 3 4, hold, 1 2 3 4, out, 1 2 3 4 5 6. Repeat. The feeling shrinks and crawls back into your chest, nestled against your breastbone where it normally resides, smaller but never gone. Always there.

A group of girls walk in and shoot you glances, you recognize one of them, Nancy, you think, as she eyes you quizzically. "Hey, are you okay?" Freak. Freak. Freak. Your hands begin to shake as you turn the water on, "Yeah, I'm good." You manage, running your hands under the stream before turning it off, grabbing a few paper towels and brushing past her out into the hall, halfway to your next class when you realize you're still holding the paper towels. Why can't you be normal?

~~~~~~~~~~~

You finally reach free period and it couldn't have come sooner. You'd been stuck in your head ever since history class, well, more stuck than usual. Flytrap level stuck instead of scotch tape stuck. You sit on the bottom bleacher, staring out at the empty football field, mind swarming despite the fresh air and fair weather.

It hadn't even been the first time someone pointed out your social issues, just the most public. You couldn't count the number of times your parents had reprimanded you for not looking at them when speaking, or moving away when they went to touch you during a bad anxiety episode. They didn't understand that none of it was an insult to them, that you wished you could act like everyone else, laughing and talking and not having to worry if you were doing what a normal person would do, wondering if you were sitting like a normal person, talking like a normal person, existing like a normal person. They had no idea what it was like in your head, and boy oh boy, they sure didn't want to either.

Freak. Freak. Sitting here by yourself staring at nothing like a freak.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" The shout comes from a few feet away, from a guy standing on the bleacher seats and walking towards you, arms waving towards the empty field. He plops down beside you with a huff, "Can you believe he fumbled the ball like that?" He shakes his head harshly, shaggy hair whipping around as he sighs dramatically, eyes moving across the field as if watching a game. You remember him from the cafeteria a few times, always loud and energetic, not seeming to care who looked his way or what they thought of him. You had wondered many times how he could be so comfortable drawing that much attention to himself. But then again, dressed the way he was, in ripped black jeans and a leather jacket, chains and a shirt that fits him like that, he had to be more than ok with the looks he must get.

"Yeah," you mumble, wondering if he's crazy or just bored, "what a disgrace to the team." He lets out a snort before adding, "Oh, to the very game itself!" You laugh, deciding he must just be bored. You both sit there quietly, staring out at the field and not saying anything. Which is fine. Sometimes people do this. They just sit. This is normal. You aren't being weird. You aren't being weird. You're being weird. He's probably waiting for you to talk, he spoke last and now it's your turn. But it's been too long since the silence started, won't you look even weirder for a delayed comment as opposed to an absent one?

"Oh look, a streaker." He calmly breaks the silence for you, and you can't help the laugh that bubbles up, sharp and loud, your hand flying up to cover your mouth in embarrassment. "Come on," he continues, apparently spurred on by your outburst, "don't laugh at the poor guy, his bits don't look that weird." You laugh again, this time not bothering to suppress it. "You're right," you say, playing along, "I don't wanna give him a complex." He laughs, a deep, full laugh.

"Hey, don't worry about it, by the way," he says after a minute, eyes still fixed on the field. Confused, you rack your brain for what he could mean. "Huh?" He leans forward like he's suddenly enthralled by the imaginary game, then disappointedly slumping down. He's really invested in this bit, isn't he? "You skedaddled outta there before I could tell you." He explains, as if that explained anything. You slowly shake your head, more confused than ever. "Sorry?"

"COME ON COME ONE COME ON COME O- OHH, DAMNIT." He's suddenly standing up, screaming at the field. Nope. Not bored, crazy.

"History class," Oh. Was he there? Did he see? Of course he did if he was there. Was he snickering? The thoughts start flooding back. "You bumped into me," he clarifies, sitting back down. "You left before I could tell you not to worry about it."

"Oh."

"Not that I blame you," he adds, leaning back on his elbows, "Mrs. Silmore is a total soul-crusher."

"Yeah, I guess." Freak. Freak. Freak. He saw you. He thinks you're a freak. He's just trying to be nice because he feels bad for you.

"Yup. Eye contact is overrated." You chuckle at his words, feeling that ball of anxiety staying firmly snug in your chest, sated for the time being. "I'm just.." You start, choosing your words carefully, "not good at it, when..talking to people." He nods like it's the most normal thing, like I'm normal.

"Well, I won't look at you if you don't look at me."

You smile, yeah, definitely crazy. "Deal."

A few minutes pass in silence, although it's a comfortable silence this time, interrupted by Eddie letting out a long sigh.

"Would you look at that score? 0 to 0. What a terrible fake football game."