#carlie writes things

[bvtbxtch]

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x fem!reader (Part 4: The Aftermath)

Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word count: ~6.8k

A/N: It's TIIIIIIIIMMMMMMEEEE! Thank you all so so so much for the love on this little fic that could. This was going to contain more smutty smut smut, but I am going to do a part 5/conclusion to this fic and it will not take 4 months for it to come out LOL. I have been frantically writing for the past week, so I am v sorry I have missed y'all! Thank you for your patience!

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The crunch of gravel underneath your half-laced converse was deafening. You finally felt free enough to let the small streams of tears waterfall down your face. Your ears were ringing with a choir of Eddie’s disappointed questions. You pressed your eyes shut to see Eddie’s warm eyes become dark pools of hatred. Eddie hated you, he must have; But how would you know? You burst through Eddie’s wobbly front door and bound down the steps before he could stop you - and lord, he wanted to stop you. 

His feet were planted, like vines of insecurity had seeped through the floor and trapped him where he stood. He reached for you in desperation, instantly regretting the poison that had spewed out of his mouth. He had just had you, finally, and he shoved you away.

“What do you mean, that wasn’t the first time you and Steve kissed?” Eddie’s hands began to shake, everything around him moved in slow motion. Why would you do that? Why would you do that to him? You had him in the palm of your hand and instead of embracing him, you tightened into a fist and crushed him. His mind played tricks, replacing your beautiful glowing eyes with Chrissy’s bored baby blues, your kisses that were stamped on his face and neck now burned, reminding him of how Chrissy’s glossed lips used to trail the veins of his neck. As much as he tried to burn her from his memory, the remnants of her wrath scorched him. 

You couldn’t meet the boy’s betrayed gaze. Your lips quivered in defeat. It didn’t mean anything. You didn’t want him to. You wanted to grab Eddie’s face and yell to him, that the time that Steve’s lips touched yours, you dreamt they were Eddie’s. That you pushed the quaff of Hair away from you and you ran through your front door, desperate to hear the rasp of your metalhead. But you didn’t. You retreated into your brain, like a black hole suctioned you through space. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t talk. The beautiful boy in front of you paced and pulled at his curled roots, his pasty face contorted in a pout. His glazed eyes made your own burn.

“What the fuck, Y/N? You- you try to fuck me in the bathroom at his house, you come home with me, you tell me you want me, when you’ve been kissing him all along? Do you like him? Did you fuck him?”  Eddie’s words sliced through you. You heard him, but could barely register what was going on. Your brain screamed one thing only at you:

Run

So you did the only thing that seemed logical. With a betrayed look in your glassy eyes, you turned on your heels and stampeded for the door. The trailer’s small hallway seemed to stretch on for miles, your hand getting further and further away from the door. Your heart screamed at your brain to allow you to stop and curl into Eddie’s broad chest. You wanted to scream into his ribs so his heart could feel how sorry you were. But you wanted to hit him. You wanted to pound your fists against the walls and yell at him - this wasn’t anyone’s fault. You weren’t - and still aren’t Eddie’s girlfriend. He doesn’t own you and you don’t owe him anything. But your stupid brain shut off and carried you down the drab carpet of the trailer. Eddie watched you in silent horror - watching you slip through his fingers yet again. 

The cool October air pushes your held breath out in a broken sob. You stand just outside of the Munson trailer door, hoping - pleading with the universe - that Eddie will cross the threshold of his safety inside and pull you back into him. But, he didn’t move when you went to leave. He let you go, just like he did before. You ruined what good thing you had coming for the two of you. With another crisp sigh, your shoulders shrank to your ears, you wrapped your arms around your torso, and you trudged along the gravel to walk yourself across town to get into your own bed and shut the world out.

The air, which was once cool enough to don only a light jacket, had become more punishing than when you picked your outfit this afternoon. Your breath fogged in front of you as you shivered your way down the side of the highway. You couldn’t help but let your thoughts grow cold with your body. Your sorrow turned to anger and resentment. How dare he? How dare he make you feel guilty when he did the exact same thing to Chrissy with you. How dare he get angry when he strung you along for so long. You hated to admit it, and maybe it’s why there was a ping of want in your chest when Steve kissed you, but you now understood part of Chrissy’s need to be desired. Steve wanted you when it felt like no one did. You had gotten a bit drunk on the power before the sobering idea of Eddie’s heartbroken face pulled you away from the moment. You just wanted Eddie to need you as much as you needed him. 

You were so entangled in your own thoughts, you barely noticed the incandescent beams that cast your shadow in front of you. Your eyes tore from the gravel when you heard a soft voice call your name. A beautiful brunette with big blue eyes peered at you from her tidy station wagon. 

“Oh, hi, Nancy.” you sniffled. You rubbed your nose and flashed the girl a tight smile. 

“Are you okay?” Her sweet soprano lulled you in. You broke. You missed having a girl to talk to.

“Umm… no” you waffled. 

“Get in.”

You only knew Nancy Wheeler through her reputation at school. Before she graduated, you knew her as the goodie two shoes who got straight A’s and was in every academic and writing club she could get her manicured hands on. She was nice to you, but intense. 

What you didn’t know about Nancy Wheeler is that now that she had graduated and was working for the Hawkins Post, she found time to experiment with her wild side. You had gently got into her car and even though she offered to drive you home, she also begged for you to go to the opening of a new nightclub downtown.

“I don’t know, Nance. I’m literally in my outfit from Steve’s party.” Nancy waved her hand like she was fanning your words away from her. 

“Not a problem at all. Most kids that were at Steve’s will probably show anyway! Besides, you have nice legs. Your skirt shows ‘em off.” She winked at you and with a small giggle, you conceded and buckled yourself in for an adventure with Hawkins’ sweetheart.

The ride there, Nancy probed about why you were crying on the side of the road. Your emotions spilled out of you like a bleeding wound, you couldn’t stop the hemorrhaging of feelings you threw at the girl who flashed her big eyes between the road and your face in utter awe of the twisted story you laid out for her. The only response she could let out was a small ‘holy shit’.

You let out a sad chuckle, and she grabbed your clammy hand resting in your lap. 

“Fuck Eddie Munson, Fuck Steve Harrington, and Fuck Chrissy Cunningham. Johnathan is coming to pick me up and he’s gonna drive you home too. Let’s drink this whole problem away. The rest of the night isn’t about you, or some stupid boys.” Nancy’s gaze was mischievous, but you could tell that her words were sincere. You were ready to let Eddie and Steve melt away from you like a layer of candle wax. You were ready to illuminate just for you. No boys. No Chrissy. Just you. 

The early morning of November 1 was full of weed smoke, fireball shots, and blaring music. The neon lights of the new dance club reflected off of your damp skin. Your body had been fastened next to Nancy’s in the middle of the dancefloor, while shot after shot flowed through your body. You thought you were tipsy at Steves? That seemed like nonsense. Your limbs felt fuzzy and limp, but the euphoric smile stayed plastered on your face. The only thing running through your brain was how loud the music was and how your throat burned from the shots. You grabbed onto Nancy’s bony hips and danced with her. You both laughed as you slotted your leg between hers and mimicked the desperate young couples on the dancefloor needy for some sort of action. The music ebbed while the DJ transitioned to the next dance track, so Nancy grabbed your wrist and led you back to the crowded bar. You both squeezed up to the bartop, bumping shoulders with a skinny blonde. It wasn’t until you turned your eyes to Nancy’s grim face that you knew something was wrong. You saw the girl mouth a small ‘fuck’ before you caught her eyes making contact with someone else’s right behind you. You mimicked Nancy’s fuck as you heard a shrill voice over the new thump of the next track.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N… Didn’t you leave to sleep with my boy like three hours ago?”

You felt your body go numb as you turned to face another pair of baby blues, but these were attached to a glossed scowl and a tall blonde ponytail. Your jaw tightened as she looked you up and down.

“Gee, for hanging out with total burnouts like the Hellfire club, you really don’t know how to hold your liquor.” You flinched at her cutting words. Your heartbeat quickened. Chrissy, the girl who used to support you through almost anything, the girl who used to support your friendships, the one who even pushed you to pursue Gareth so you could go on double dates with her and Eddie, now weaponizing everything you love against you. 

“Fuck off, Chrissy. I’m not doing this.” You tried to push your body off of the bar, but the monster in front of you grabbed your shoulder and leaned into your ear.

“Why? Did you hear about how Eddie called me after you left his? How he told me how much he missed me? Let’s go outside and talk about it.” Chrissy dared. Your eyes darted to Nancy, her face screwed into an angry and concerned scowl. You cupped your hand to Nancy’s ear and told her about your plan to go outside with Chrissy. You reassured her you were fine. You told her you were  finishing this once and for all. She questioned you with a glare, but you nodded in reassurance. 

“Fine, Cunningham. Let’s talk if you wanna talk.” You let the girl lead you out of the club through the front door, once again, you were met with the cool November air, a stark contrast from the heat from the club. 

You fully admit that hasty decisions made when drunk rarely end up being good decisions. In your brain, telling Chrissy to fuck herself was going to bring you closure. It was going to end your night on a win and you were going to dance the night away with Nancy until Johnathan dragged your tired bodies off the dancefloor. But that was an ideal world, not real life. You seemed to be ignorant to the fact that alcohol also amplifies the hold your feelings had on your heart. 

“What the fuck do you want, Chrissy? What the fuck did I do to you now?” You scoffed. You tried your best to harden your heart, but the waver in your voice let Chrissy know that she had gotten to you. In her game, she had won. A sinister smile spread across her flushed face.

“I just wanted to give you a warning. Since you think that you can finesse my boyfriend away from me.” The girl spat. 

“Ex-boyfriend Chrissy. Tell me why I was just with him and he said you were through and he wanted me?” Chrissy cackled at your rebuttal.

“Hah. I guess there is one thing I know about Eddie Munson that you don’t.” Chrissy stepped towards you. “Munson will do anything for a lay.” Chrissy spoke with such casualty in her voice it made your blood run cold. “I mean, you and I both know I definitely gave it up the first time he took me out, but I was desperate to see what the fuckhead was packing…”

“Shut the fuck up, Chrissy!” you wished your voice could be used as a forcefield to push her backwards. She did step back, however, impressed with the strength in your voice. But she laughed, she knew she had taken residence under your skin, it was time to play with all of your nerves. 

“Why? Are you jealous of me, Y/N?” Chrissy sneered. “Are you finally ready to admit that you’re just angry that I got everything you ever wanted? I was the top bitch. I was the one that could have anything she wanted. I was the one that won prom queen. I’m so much bigger and better than you could ever be… Was Eddie just the final nail in the coffin for you?”

Chrissy’s words began to fuzz together. You can’t help but close your eyes to block her barrage further. You finally understood. You got who Chrissy Cunningham really was. It started as a chuckle, but grew into an uncontrollable laugh. When you opened your eyes back up, you were greeted with Chrissy’s confused stare. 

“All this time… you thought I was jealous?” you couldn’t contain the amused giggle that kept escaping. Chrissy’s cheeks grew more flushed and her brows furrowed tighter with every passing second. “Chrissy, why would I ever be jealous of you? The only thing that ever mattered to you was you - a-and your fucking image! Look at the people you left in your wake! Who the fuck do you have left? Heather? Sarah? Where are they now?”

“O-oh please? Like you have fucking Nancy Wheeler? Big deal.” Chrissy’s voice wavered. She could feel her power and influence fading. 

“Yeah, I do. I have lots of people in my corner. But I have myself. I may not feel that fucking fantastic about myself right now, but I know I’m a good person, and I know I deserve love. Do you think that about yourself?”

For the first time tonight, Chrissy was silent. It was only a beat, but it signaled her small defeat - even though she would never admit it to you.

“But, we kissed at the party today. He wants me back, I know it.” She pouted at you. 

“You kissed him at the party. He then turned around and kissed me.” you spat. “I think you should take that hint-”

The words were stolen from your mouth as Chrissy’s hand made contact with your cheek. You felt instant heat on your face and your word felt like it was going to flip completely upside down as your balance was rocked. Shocked tears pricked your eyes as you stared in bewilderment at the girl who you once called your best friend stood there, knees shaking and chest heaving. She looked like she was going to throw up, her flush face now pale. You heard a sweet voice turned hardened highlighted by the dull bass of the club entrance. 

“Back the fuck up, Chrissy!” Nancy barked. Chrissy backed herself against the wall and started to laugh. 

“Get your bitch out of here, Wheeler. I’m fucking done with you both. You and Eddie deserve each other. You’re going to sit and rot here in this stupid town and I’ll be long gone.” Chrissy cried. She shouldered Nancy on the way out. Your chest heaved and you crumbled into the sidewalk, sliding your back down the cement wall of the club. The brunette’s small frame followed you. You sat in silence, only the faint womps of music interrupted the silence. 

“Do you want me to go back in there and kill her?” She peeped. You gave her a hearty laugh. She eyed you carefully before joining in. You leaned your head on Nancy’s bony shoulder and let your shoulders heave. Before long, your shakes of laughter turned into silent sobs. You were so tired, so drunk and so unbelievably confused. 

A blinding pair of headlights approached as the offending vehicle puttered to a stop. Before the lights were fully blinked off, a clump of footsteps could be heard on the concrete. Both you and Nancy and you both shielded your burning eyes, Nancy grabbed your wrist with her free hand and squeezed. A familiar, but not fully welcome tone calls your name. 

“Get up. Let’s go.” The voice was hard, but a sniffle and a sigh book ended his words. You stood slowly, in amazement of the pale face before you. Just a few hours ago, his cheeks were red and his eyes glowed down at you. Now, his skin was dull, his eyes sunken behind puffy bags and a red nose. Your heart broke looking at him. 

“E-Eddie? How did you know where to find me?”

As soon as Eddie had come to and realized you had left, he collapsed in on himself. He couldn’t help the tears that poured past his lash line. He pulled his hands into fists and threw a punch to his door as he burst through it. He flopped his body onto his bed and allowed his shoulders to heave as a sob wracked through him. Once again, he fucking froze. Once again, he let you walk away. Once again, he lost the one person he felt like he couldn’t live without. He felt like time had slowed, that he had simultaneously laid on his bed four hours, but mere moments ago you were in his arms. He cried and screamed until his lungs felt they would collapse and his throat was raw. 

His realization kicked in. You left. Alone. In the dark. With no vehicle and no way of getting home without him. He jolted out of his bed and ran to the door, ripping his keys from the hook on the wall. 

Eddie drove to your house and banged on the door, but there was no answer - all the lights were off and things were too silent for you to be home. He cursed under his breath and ran back to his van. He drove any walking routes he thought you might take: along the sleepy highway, down by Hawkins High or through the middle of town. He saw no signs of you anywhere. It was late. There were no stores open, bars calling last call, street lamps buzzing in a mocking whisper. He shouldn’t have let you go. He kept repeating it in his head and out loud. He shouldn’t have let you go. His silent drive prompted reflection. He had no right to say anything, especially after Chrissy kissed him at Steve’s party literally that night. He should have listened to you. He should have heard what happened. But his stupid insecurities got in the way. He wasn’t good enough for you, he knew that before tonight. But now this had really solidified it for him, you don’t deserve the shitstorm that he has brought to your life. You deserve to be happy, and have friends and have a boyfriend, and as much as he wanted that to be him, he knew that you very well could pick someone else, and he would understand. He mirrored your self-sabotage exactly, you both feeling less than.

Eddie began to grow desperate. If you got hurt - hell if something else happened, he would never forgive himself. He trailed around your favorite hang outs around town and gave up hope. He did have an idea of where else you might have gone. 

The knock on the neat wooden door was loud and frantic. Gareth stumbled to open the door with sleepy eyes and a yawn.

“Dude, what the fuck? It's like 2 am!” Gareth chided. 

“You were asleep?!?” Eddie grabbed at the collar of Gareth’s faded Metallica t-shirt. “You’ve been asleep this whole time?”

“Yeah, man! What the hell! I left Harrington’s shitty party early and fell the fuck asleep. What’s going on?”

With a whimper, Eddie let your name slip through his mouth before bursting into tears again. Gareth wrapped the tall boy into an embrace and shuffled him into his living room. The two boys sat on the couch recalling the events of the night, through sighs and shed tears from both of them.

“Dude, I need to ask you a serious question, and I know you know the answer… I think you just need to fully admit it to yourself.” Eddie looked at Gareth dazed, but sent him a small nod.

“How long have you been in love with her?” Even the thought of loving you sent heat straight to his cheeks. The thought of being able to touch you, to kiss you, like he had at Steve’s party without any reason made his stomach flop. 

“I-” Eddie chewed on his lip. He felt like he had been enamored by you since you first met. When he saw you on stage during his first rehearsal in the theatre, he knew that you were going to be a permanent fixture in his life. But love? That was scary. He didn’t love Chrissy. He hadn’t had a girlfriend before her. His family, other than Wayne, never showed him what love was. It felt like a foreign concept. But the fact that he was sitting on his friend’s couch crying over how worried he was, that was a pretty good sign right?

“I… think it was right before the play went up this year, when I got to spend so much time with her.” Eddie’s voice was quiet. He felt powerless, but not threatened. He was ready to fully give up everything for you now. He was ready to submit to his feelings. 

“Why didn’t you tell her then and break up with Chrissy?” Gareth probed. His questions weren’t pushy. He was truly asking to help Eddie untangle the mess of thoughts woven in his mind. 

“I-I tried to.. When I kissed her - that day in the theatre - I had this silent hope that she was going to just… know. She was just going to understand. She was going to feel all of the things I felt for her and she was going to ask me to leave Chrissy. And I would have, if she asked… but I was so scared of being burned by both of them, I tried to save both… and now look where that has gotten me.” Eddie;s head fell into his hands. Gareth put a reassuring hand on his broad shoulder.

“Eddie, she knew.” Eddie’s face flew from his hands to study the boy’s green eyes across from him. “She’s known all along, but both of you are assholes that are too scared to admit it. But think about it, Ed. She had so much to lose - too much to lose. You needed to make that move, so I am telling you, when we find her, you need to tell her. No more holding back. It’s going to kill the both of you.” 

Eddie now understood why you had gravitated to Gareth so easily. He cared so effortlessly for you, and Eddie now realized how much he had taken Gareth’s friendship for granted. He couldn’t help but wrap the dusty blond boy into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Gare.” Eddie whispered, too scared to speak louder and erupt in tears yet again.

“Yeah, just don’t cry again, dude. I can’t take any more of your crocodile tears.” With a sniffle and a chuckle, the boys broke their embrace. Both of their attentions were grabbed from the living room by a shrill ring of the kitchen telephone. Both boys jumped off the couch and crowded around the receiver. A squeaky voice rang through the phone.

“Gareth??”

“Wheeler? What the hell are you doing calling me at 2:30?” The smaller Wheeler sibling was babbling and gasping for air on the other end of the phone. Your name came up between pants and a mishmosh of words.

“Slow down, Mike. What happened?” Gareth’s eyes were glued to Eddie’s. Eddie was whispering small encouragements to Gareth, pleading to pry any information out of the freshman.

“Nancy just called me from this new club downtown? She-she said that she was with Y/N and that I needed to call you to come get them! I think something happened!” It took Eddie no time to leave Gareth’s side and lunge for his keys. Gareth quickly thanked Mike and hung up the phone.

“Do you think I should come with you, Ed?”

“Nah, Gareth. I gotta do this alone.” Eddie’s face turned cold, stoic, scared. He was worried sick and felt a pang of nausea that Nancy had found you in a club of all places. With a pat on the back, he wished Gareth good night and hopped back into his car, trailing way too fast down the winding roads leading him downtown and into your arms. 

Nancy’s voice snapped the tension between you and Eddie. You felt like a fist was squeezing your heart. You could barely breathe. 

“I-I called Mike to get Gareth to come help.” Nancy looked at the floor, apologetic. You twisted your head to look at her, and you gave her a thankful squeeze on the arm.

“I had gone over to Gareth’s to look for you. I drove to your house and downtown and to the board game cafe… I just couldn’t find you.” Eddie’s voice had softened slightly. You felt the fist on your heart tighten harder. Eddie reached for your limp wrist with a brawny grip. He wasn’t going to let you slip away again. 

“Let’s go please.” His eyes pleaded with you. “Wheeler, do you need me to drop you off?”

“Nah, I’ll be okay. Johnathan will be here soon, and I might have a bitch to fight,” Her smile was mischievous, but there were flashes of sorrow for you in her eyes. 

“What does she mean?” Eddie flashed you a perturbed stare. Your eyes couldn’t meet his as you whispered Chrissy’s name. That was all you could power out of your rapidly weakening chest. It's all it took for Eddie to roll his eyes and rake his hand over his face. He wished he had the strength to walk into the club, grab her and give her a piece of his mind, but the only thing he had any energy left was to get you home safely, and never leave your side. Eddie pulled you towards his van as you blew a kiss to Nancy and hollered a sweet goodbye.

“Take care of her, Munson. Or I’ll have to kill you.” Nancy dared, her hands crossed over her dainty chest. Eddie offered her a small thank you.

“No, really. I’m a wicked shot.” Both you and Eddie stopped and turned to her in surprise. A small giggle escaped your lips. Nancy waved you both off and sauntered back to the front door that engulfed her in neon dance lights when she opened it. 

Eddie silently opened your door and put your seatbelt on you. Neither of you could meet each other's gaze as Eddie’s strong arms reached across you. He closed the door and you let out a sigh of relief in the moment you had alone in the dark van. Eddie restarted his van and pulled away from the club. The radio was uncharacteristically low, and although Eddie had found you in one piece, he refused to turn it back up. You rode in silence down the streets of your neighborhood. Eddie’s stare would flicker from the dark road to your figure every few seconds. He needed to make sure you were real, that you were actually there with him. You fixed your weak body against the passenger window and glued your stare to the passing trees. The windows of your neighbor’s houses sneered back at you just like Chrissy did. 

“I was worried about you,” Eddie muttered. “You shouldn’t have run off like that.”

As relieved as you were that you were driving further and further away from the club and Chrissy Cunningham, the more confused and angry you grew at the boy who took you away from her. You couldn’t help but let a small chuckle leave your lips. Eddie scoffed back at you.

“You shouldn’t have let me leave in the first place” you hissed. No way. There was no way he was going to be mad at you. You folded your arms over your chest, willing yourself more metaphorical armor to protect your heart from all the conflicting emotions. 

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington.” Eddie’s plan was slipping through his fingers. He was panicking, and the only thing he knew how to do when he was panicking, was be mean. 

“You should have never, ever kissed Chrissy Cunningham either, Eddie!” You shouted. Eddie opened his mouth to say something but screwed it shut into a scowl. The silence was deafening. For the first time since you got into his van that night, you looked over at him, your eyes absolutely absorbing him. He wanted to pull the van over and kiss some sense into you, show you that he definitely knew that he was never supposed to have been with her. It was always you. But you had shut down. You had given up on him, like he deserved. He couldn’t handle more heartbreak than he had now. 

The aching silence came to a head as Eddie pulled the old van into your driveway. Without hesitation you reached over for your seatbelt and opened the creaky door. Time slowed down for both of you, both desperate for the other to give in and just stay, to just collapse into the other. But, you were too hurt and Eddie too guarded. Eddie felt his body freeze when you looked at him (for what felt the last time) as you slammed the passenger door closed and trudged to your front door. Your face fell into a frown and tears flowed, for what you hoped would be the last time in a while.

You fumbled in your purse for your house keys. You finally found the small keychain that Eddie had gotten you from Corroded Coffin’s one day trip into Indianapolis to hang flyers, and you couldn’t help but let your shoulders slump more. Eddie’s headlights illuminated the door. You pushed your keys in, but saw a large shadow approaching your door before you could turn the knob. Your glassy eyes panned up to watch Eddie wildly bounding up your porch steps to your door. The vice grip around your heart loosened as Eddie’s face contorted into a frown. There was hope in his eyes, it was small, but you could tell that there was a glimmer. You dropped your hand.

“I have watched you run away too many times. I can’t let you slip away again.” Eddie wept. His hands flew to your cheeks and ran small circles over your skin. He looked expectantly at you, hanging on every move you made. His palms burned into your skin, you could feel his heartbeat like a bass note through an amp; your body absorbed his energy and you couldn’t force yourself to move away, like it would be disturbing all laws of nature if you did.

“Please don’t let me leave again” you breathed. Before you had time to react, Eddie’s mouth was on yours, the place where he truly felt it belonged. All tension you felt in your body melted away and you felt how truly weak you were. Eddie’s arms engulfed you in a wave of warmth - you were home. You willed your lips off of his and peered through your thick lashes. Thick tears trailed down Eddie’s cheekbones. You pushed your door open in a silent invitation. Too scared for his hands to leave your body, his hands slid to your hips and pushed you through the frame into darkness, peppering kisses against your lips. Eddie spun you and the weight of your bodies pressed the door closed.

As soon as you were fully enveloped in the dark quiet of your home, you pulled Eddie closer into you. What once felt so unsteady, like paper floating through the air, was solid. The impact was like an anchor sinking your heart to the bottom of your stomach. Your back pressed against the cool wood of your front door; Eddie stealing your breath made your head spin. The fuzzy feeling the alcohol had given you had long gone, and Eddie’s lips trailing from yours to your collarbone sobered you completely.  Your senses were deprived. The only thing that you could make sense of was the boy in front of you. The only thing your body was responding to was. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

Too close wasn’t close enough and the trails he left across your neck became desperate. Your breath hitched as your hands found purchase in his thick curls. You felt Eddie’s soft moan breathed against your goosebumped skin. His strong hands wrapped themselves around your sides under your sweater. His calloused fingers sent shockwaves through your abdomen. Eddie slotted his leg between yours and pushed himself in closer. As desperate as you were, Eddie was tenfold. He wished that it was possible for the two of you to devour each other and become one. Each blazing kiss he planted to your complexion, he sent a manifesto of how much he cared about you, and how he never dared leave you again. You received his advances openly, pushing your chest into his. Eddie’s mouth traced back up to yours, both of your desperate to tell each other just how much you needed one another without speaking. 

Eddie suddenly pulled his kiss chapped lips away from yours. His chocolate brown eyes bore into yours, he was studying every little detail of your face. His brows furrowed together in melancholy. 

“Eddie, what’s wrong?”

“I… I just… I want to remember everything about this moment, just in case I don’t get to do it ever again.”

“Eddie, why-” The boy cut you off with a small sigh and a quiver of his bottom lip. He pushed himself away from you, now feeling like your body was a black hole, ready to destroy him at whatever cost. You had been drinking. You had to have drinks to kiss him at Steve’s house. The waves of uncertainty washed over him like a tsunami. Your chest tightened at the whiplash, but the boy looked scared. His big eyes were glassy and his cheeks rosy. He chewed lightly at the lips that were just on you. 

“Because I don’t deserve you. And I’m scared you’re going to wake up and think that this was the worst decision of your life.” Eddie’s eyes could barely meet yours. With a quick flash of a self-deprecating smile, his face was trained to the floor. You couldn’t help but wrack out a heartbroken chuckle. 

“You don’t trust me? You don’t believe me when I say that I want you, Eddie? That I want to be with you and that has been the only thing that has occupied my fucking mind since I fucking met you!” you raised your voice. You felt conflicted. What did he need? You kisses weren’t enough, your words weren’t enough. Tears flowed freely again.

“I, just don’t want you to regret this, sweetheart. I wouldn’t fucking choose me if I were you…”

“God fucking damn it, Eddie! Why can’t you just listen to me!?” Eddie’s jaw clenched at your scolds. 

“Don’t fucking yell at me! Last time I checked, I should be the one that’s mad! You worried me sick! I ran around the whole city looking for you, and I didn’t care if you were falling back into someone else’s arms, I just needed to know that you were okay because I lo-”

“The only reason I god damn ran away is because I couldn’t stand you shoving me out! I couldn’t handle your rejection yet again because I fucking love you-” The words flew out of your mouth like the tears on your cheeks. All the noise of the two of you yelling ceased and it was your turn to stare holes into the floor. The room felt like it had shrunk 10 times smaller and the temperature rose. Your cheeks were on fire, and you couldn’t felt your fingertips. As long as you had felt this way for Eddie, you were always too afraid to admit it out loud. Even though Gareth had probed you about your feelings, you didn’t dare say it out loud to him - or to anyone. Feelings were too scary. Compartmentalizing your feelings felt easier. But now, everything had changed because you loved Eddie Munson and you told him and now he stood in front of you saying nothing. 

“Please don’t joke like that…” His voice was small. You flicked your eyes to see his figure taking cautious steps towards you. “I can’t take it if you don’t mean that.”

A simple whisper of his name let him know that you were serious. You began to shake as you felt the uncontrollable angst and relief of letting your feelings out. 

You loved Eddie Munson, and you always would love Eddie Munson. 

“Can you say it again, please?” For the first time, you heard the flamboyant, loud, exuberant person before you speak timidly. You looked to his pleading eyes and they gave you the courage you didn’t think you had.

“I…. I love you, Eddie. I think I have for quite a while.” You sobbed. 

Eddie said nothing, but took your hand and pulled you into him. The moonlight illuminated his pale face that twisted into a small smile. He pulled you in for a kiss so saccharine sweet, you felt that you were going to get a stomach ache. His hands cradled your face like you were made of porcelain. He pulled away from you and rested his forehead on yours. Your hands mirrored his, longing to feel the apples of his cheeks pressed up in a smile. Silently, he led you up the stairs to your room, and pulled your sweater off your shaking body. He followed with his own shirt and pants. You slid your skirt and tights down your body. The two of you stood silently, raking in each other’s bodies. Eddie sat himself down on the bed and pulled your hands so you stood between his legs. His hands rested on your hips and yours on his shoulders. You leaned yourself down to press your lips to his again, needing another reminder that you, in fact, weren’t dreaming and that Eddie was going to stay. The metal head guided your hips so you were straddled over his lap and leaned back with an oof, so you were both lying horizontally on your bed. You both let out a small, nervous giggle. Your lips worked their way back to his’, tongues lazily snaking in and out of mouths, hands tracing new skin that hadn’t been seen before. 

Eddie guided the two of you to your pillows, never allowing more than a moment of your lips being apart from his. His body had felt the most relaxed in a long time. Your touches sent fire through his nerves. You whimpered into Eddie’s mouth and he pulled away from you. 

“I don’t think we should tonight, sweetheart.” Eddie whispered into you. “We’ve both had a long day, maybe we need to take the night to think about things.” Your face twisted into concern at the beautiful boy under you. He noticed your worry and flipped you over so he was on his side leaning over you. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. I always have”

Eddie spent the next hour with you breathing heavily against his chest, falling asleep almost immediately after he had invited you to lay on him.

Eddie, for the second time, would not get any sleep staying with you in your bed; but this time, the rogue tears that fell were full of adoration, and he whispered small ‘I love you’s at your dozing figure. 

Eddie was happy if he never slept again, as long as his nights all consisted of this.

Taglist: @eddies-acousticguitar @mmunson86 @sadbitchfangirl @hideoutside @anxiousobserver @ali-r3n @brinleighsstuff @filth-fiction-archive @vintagehellfire @kirstinjayjay @poofyloofy @sluggzillaa@aol19 @dark-angel-is-back @keikoraven @emxxblog @adrenalineeerevolver @crybabyddl @lovemegood @cherry-pop3547 @munsquinns @cozmiccass @leelei1980 @darknesseddiem If you would like to be added to my taglist, please fill out this form and consider following!

Also, Steve Harrington fic ideas in the works! Stay tuned!

[arlathen]

had the vision of amadea figuring out that, like, the nice courier who brings her things from the village is one of solas' agents and she invites him in and makes him help her peel carrots and potatoes for soup and then she ladles some into jars and seals them up and is like "okay, you saw me make this and can attest that they arent poisoned, so can you make sure that it gets delivered to the dread wolf. i have a feeling he isnt eating well"

[timothyslucy]

[shitpostingkats]

What ships do you have for Yu-Gi-Oh! male leads and the Yu-Gi-Oh! series you have seen?

For most of the main characters, I don't really have any ships! Not opposed to an idea of any of them in relationships, but one of the reasons I got into yugioh was the lack of romantic subplots. This being said, I am an utter fiend for starshipping (Jaden x Yusei)

They're two of the most ace aro idiots of all time how are they dating no one knows it doesn't even look like a relationship to most people, but they know each others demons they are foils they are soulmates.... I will yell about this to my dying day. I have an entire aspec romance novel sitting uncompleted in my drafts about this. They just get eachother despite being completely different breeds of people.

Also Jesse having a crush on Jaden and having to get over it and settle into this completely anormative chaos relationship where they're soulmates who aren't dating but are each others' Most Important Person.... Yubel accepting and loving Jaden just the way they are now regardless of promises made in the past.... I see a queerplatonic ship and I go "Mh yes delicious."

[torchickentacos]

girl help i've been hit with the twentysomething curse of wanting to move to a city where nobody knows my name and where I get to feel and see and be something new✌️

[ishipthis]

Chapter 2 - Ship Happens, but there's motorbikes.

Ship Happens, take a cruise (25092 words) by Ishipthis, rainbowsandklainebows Chapters: 2/10 Fandom: iCarly Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Freddie Benson/Carly Shay Characters: Freddie Benson, Carly Shay, Original Characters Additional Tags: Fluff, Feels, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Cruise Ships, Holidays Summary: It's almost 5 years since Carly left for Italy and the gang have been planning a spring break to end all spring breaks with an iCarly reunion cruise! What happens when Sam bails and Carly and Freddie are left to enjoy the sun, sand and waves by themselves? Well…. Ship Happens…..?

[sleeplittleearth]

sharing a teensy snippet from the modern karaoke bar au in the hopes that it might motivate me to actually finish it:

"If I have to hear one more person sing all eight minutes and 42 seconds of 'American Pie', I'm gonna end up serving several consecutive life sentences for brutally murdering everyone in here and then myself." The offending song was just coming to an end on the tinny speakers of the Hideout's karaoke system; Eddie was behind the bar, cutting lime wedges and contemplating whether he would be better off if he shoved a couple of tiki umbrellas through his eardrums. Jeff, who was the audience for Eddie's very reasonable threats of violence, stood on the opposite side of the bar with a half-full tray of empty glasses and a bemused smile. "Wouldn't you being, y'know, dead make prison a little redundant?" Jeff asked, unloading his tray onto the bartop. "Not when I'm done." Eddie waved his paring knife to emphasize his point as he spoke. "It'll be such a violent, repugnant crime against humanity that they'll lock up my bones, just to be safe." He went back to slicing limes, eyes mostly on his hands. "And after all that, I'll still look saintly next to some asshole who saw fit to make a room full of strangers listen to almost ten minutes of off-tempo Don McLean on a Tuesday night." "The nerve of some people," Jeff dead-panned. "God knows you would never pick a karaoke song that's twelve minutes long, like half instrumental, and barely has more than one lyric." Eddie huffed indignantly. "That was totally different! I did it for the bit, and I absolutely killed it! And anyway, Meatloaf is sacred, man." Whatever Eddie's face was doing, it definitely wasn't pouting. Nope. Jeff rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night, Munson."

[hdmiports]

i lay in a dark room and smoke my e-cigarette

molly: carls, did you finish the science project?

carlie: nah, i was... busy

m: oh come on! you couldn't possibly have been so busy to not prioritize your education! i thought i taught you better, carlie.

c: molly please... its 8 am

m: and?

wolfgang: get a room you two

[eldritch-nightmare]

Let’s gooOO, MY HUSBAND BO IS COMING SOON HAHA

HGFJKDGF HELL YEAH !!

[heeliopheelia]

the way that hoon's list of includes/warnings on my bad idea right fic only expands while the others have like only 5 so far HELP

[bvtbxtch]

White Knuckles and Red Hearts | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

a cute little (I don't know what this work means, the fic is 3.9k words) oneshot for valentines day <3 IT STILL COUNTS BECAUSE ITS FEBRUARY

You had been paired together in Home Ec. You were making eclairs. Everyone else in your class sneered at him, hoping - praying - that they wouldn’t have to be in the same workspace as the freak of Hawkins High. Sure, you didn’t jump for joy when you met him in your designated kitchen space, but you gave him a warm smile and introduced yourself. From that moment on, your name rang through his mind like church bells. His hands shook when the two of you measured ingredients, but you quickly put him at ease with your effortless friendliness.

“So, eclairs huh… have you ever made them before?” You smiled over the metal bowl filled with various dry ingredients. 

“Ahh, can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Don’t find a lot of fancy baking in the trailer park. But I did spend about 10 minutes in a French class before I was kicked out so I do know that it’s french.” Eddie jousted back with a dry laugh. 

“That’s where I knew you from! Your face looked so familiar to me!” You giggled. Eddie’s cheeks bloomed a glowing red. Your smile grew and you peeled your eyes away from him to form your choux. 

“You know, in French eclair means flash.” You babbled. Eddie could see your cheeks were turning a darker pink than the rouge already donning your apples. Eddie wanted to listen to you talk forever. “They say it’s because the glaze on the top of them… or because people eat them so quickly, they’re gone in a flash!” You both looked up and locked eyes. You suddenly felt shy. Stupid under the glow of the big brown doe eyes peering down at you. How the hell did anyone think that this person in front of you was a freak, was dangerous, wasn’t worth friends?

“Sorry, I���m babbling now.” You turned away to begin whipping cream while Eddie had begun to boil water.

“No, no! Babble away! You have interesting stories.” Eddie praised. 

The rest of the afternoon flew by as the two of you laughed, stole spoonfuls of chocolate, and filled your delicate pastries with sweet cream. The bell dismissing the students from their last period of the day startled the two of you out of your dream world. You handed Eddie the last bowl that needed to be put away and wiped your wet hands on your jeans. 

“Well, thanks for being a great home ec partner, Eddie. If we get to pick our people next time, we should work together again.” You smiled and squeezed his shoulder as you breezed past him to grab your backpack. You flashed him another smile and waved at the door. Eddie felt his knees buckle. You were beautiful; Eddie had noticed you at the beginning of the semester, in awe of how simple and easy you made beauty look. You weren’t popular by any means, but as a member of the drama club, you had a great group of friends. Eddie couldn’t imagine why you would want anything to do with him.

DnD wasn’t the same; Eddie’s mind was not fully immersed in the world he had created. Usually charismatic and intense, he was tripping on words, forgetting important details he had set up last session. His mind was transfixed on you. God, he felt pathetic. You were the first girl that wasn’t in Hellfire or wasn’t trying to get free weed from him to be nice to you. Was that all this was? Was he that pathetic that he was going to fall in love with any girl who was nice to him? Surely not. You were different. Not every girl had glowing eyes like you did; nor did they have such a friendly smile, and the slightest dusting of freckles across their cheeks like yours. They didn’t genuinely laugh at his jokes or touched his arm like you did. You weren’t petty or rude or hung out with him as a joke or-

“Dude!” A squeaky voice rang out, interrupting his daydreams of your interactions. “I rolled a 16 does that hit or not?!” Dustin Henderson was not a patient person on a normal day, but now, the third time he had to snap Eddie out of whatever coma he was in, he was rapidly growing angrier by the second.

“Uh- yeah.. How many hit points does it take?” Eddie mumbled. 

Within 25 minutes, the whole Hellfire party had surrendered to their DM, ending the session 40 minutes before their scheduled end. With a frustrated huff, the gaggle of high schoolers exited the stuffy prop room and into the dim hallways. 

February rain was not uncommon in Hawkins. It had caught you off guard though. In typical midwest fashion, the morning had started out mild and sunny. Now, at 5:45 when you were attempting to flee the grip of Hawkins High and make the 10 minute walk to the comfort of your own home, you were met with sleet and rain. You paused at the thick glass doors keeping you warm and dry and let out a long sigh that clouded the vision in front of you. You shrugged your shoulders and pushed through the doors into the cold, wet parking lot. You were kept warm by the thought of seeing an outlandish metalhead in the morning. You had to admit, you had been scared by Eddie Munson. His hard shell deterred many people away, but when you were given the opportunity to get to know him today, you penetrated right through to his soft center. You had to stay after school to direct for the one act festival next month, but like Eddie, your mind was transfixed on your home ec partner. You replayed your conversations in your head as you headed to the main street that dissected the community of little houses and the high school field. You shivered into your jean jacket, cursing the fact that your fashion choices weren’t practical at all for a rainstorm in February. Your eyes stayed glued to the pavement in fear that your face would freeze solid if you looked against the wind. Your hair stuck to the sides of your cheeks. You moved your legs as fast as they would carry you.

Eddie jogged out to his van, now covered in frosted rain drops. The short jaunt already had made his hair heavy with moisture and left a shiver in his spine. His engine lazily sputtered to life and he tore out of the school’s parking lot. He couldn’t wait to get home to pick up his guitar and write you forbidden love songs you would never hear. His headlights pelted through the thick, icy rain. God it was miserable. As he rounded the corner of yet another sleepy avenue, he slowed his van and pulled to the side of the road. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief as he stared at your hunched over figure fighting through the storm (and very obviously losing). He pulled his rusted van over to the sidewalk just ahead of where you were trudging. You stopped and squinted towards the rusty Chevrolet Astro and the curly haired driver that was looking at you with his beautiful, yet worried, eyes. You could see Eddie’s tongue poke out of his mouth as he reached over to the passenger side of his van to unlatch the door. 

“Hey, Y/N! Are you okay?” The boy had to yell to be heard over the pelting rain and the rattle of his exhaust pipe. “Do you need a lift?”

Your heartbeat quickened and your cheeks grew warm. You smiled at him sweetly. “It’s okay, Eddie. It's only a few more blocks to my house.”

“Are you sure? It’s terrible outside. I really don’t mind!” You paused in contemplation. Did you know Eddie well enough to get into his van? Most of your friends would say no, but you felt like you’d known him for a long time. You felt safe around him. So you shrugged your shoulders and hopped into his van with a small ‘thank you’ leaving your lips. A sudden wave of bashfulness hit you after you gave Eddie approximate direction to your house. 

“I-I usually just walk, you know? It was so nice this morning, but…” you ended in a curt giggle, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in embarrassment. It made Eddie’s dimples sprout on each of his cheeks, like you had seen for the first time this afternoon. 

“Well a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking at all! Let alone in weather like this!” Fuck. His lips moved before his brain could catch up and stop him. His eyes grew double in size and it was his turn for his cheeks to turn a bold red. “Sorry I didn’t mean- I mean-”

“It's okay Eddie.” You turned your head away from him to stifle your grin. “I appreciate the ride”

It felt like no time before Eddie pulled up to your house.

“Thank you again, so much for the ride. That was so sweet of you.” That damned shoulder touch again. The warmth from the hand around his jean jacketed shoulder sent molten lava straight to his heart. 

“Hey,” he choked. He ravaged his cluttered console for an old napkin and a sharpie. He hastily scribbled his digits on the napkin and shoved it towards you, eyes glued to his knees. 

“Here, take this, just in case you get caught in this shit weather again.” He didn’t feel your fingers take the paper. He peered up at you, cheeks bright red and brown eyes bright with rejection already. “You know, I just-I don’t mind driving you, you know? It’s strictly just-” He was interrupted by your soft hand around his wrist.

“Eddie” you cooed as you took the wrinkled paper from his hand. “You are the sweetest. Of course I’ll take it. I really appreciate it.” Your eyes locked with him and you felt electricity surge from him to you. You released your grip with a blush and backed away from his van.

“Maybe I can call you about some home ec homework too?” Eddie thought his chest was going to burst out of his chest. 

“Y-yeah, doll. That would be great.”

He watched to make sure you got into your house, and left only when you flashed him a smile and wave from your door. He drove home smitten, still smelling your perfume, feeling your warmth from the empty seat beside him. Blissful giggles escaped his lips. 

-

The shrill ring of the telephone startled Eddie out of his daze and brushed through the cloud in his room to the hallway. He picked up the phone and answered with a lazy ‘hey’. His throat closed when he heard your voice peep on the other end of the line. \

“Hey, Eddie. I-is this a bad time?” Yes. Eddie thought. He was just starting to feel his buzz, now he felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

“No! No not at all! What’s up, Y/N?” His baritone voice went straight to the butterflies in your stomach. You took a deep breath to ground yourself. You could hardly believe what he was doing to you. Yesterday, Eddie was a stranger to you, someone that was interesting to look at, but you hadn’t dared interact with him - he was too cool for you. 

“I-I’m so sorry to ask this… but I think I left my history textbook in your van from this afternoon. I am so sorry but is there any way I can come pick it up or you could-”

“Oh! Yeah I will bring it to you, no problem!” Eddie choked. Your stomach sank in excitement.

“Oh, great, thank you so much!”

“I’ll be there in 10” Eddie hung up the phone before you could let out another apologetic thank you. You bit at your nails in selfish excitement. 

Eddie raced through the darkening streets of Hawkins. He remembered where you lived like the back of his hand: past the school three blocks, to the left, then take a right and you were almost at the end of the street. Luckily the storm  His headlights pulled up to the sidewalk in front of your house, like he did earlier that afternoon. To his surprise, he saw the upstairs window on the second floor illuminated with your excited figure. You sheepishly slid the window open and crawled through it and shimmied down the ivied siding. You trotted up to Eddie’s unrolled passenger window. 

“Hey, Eddie. Thank you so much!”

“No problem. Front door broken?” Eddie chuckled. 

“Nah, strict parents make for sneaky kids.” You wagged your eyebrows at him. You boldly opened his passenger door and snaked into the seat. Eddie’s cheeks grew warm with yours as your bodies were now closer (but not as close as you both craved). He sheepishly handed you your textbook, which you pulled to your chest.

“Thanks, Eddie.” you peeped. A sudden burst of courage hit you, and although your hands felt numb, you took a breath and let the words escape your mouth. “I need to tell you, I don’t think that you’re crazy and weird like people say.” You dared to look into his soft, dark eyes. “I think you’re really sweet, and funny. And it really sucks that Hawkins is too small minded to see how great you are.” You leaned over and gave him a sweet peck on the cheek before hopping out of the passenger seat. Eddie wanted to pull you back to him, to grab your face and press his lips to yours; but he was frozen in shock. He would have never imagined you ever wanting to talk to him again, let alone thinking he was a good guy AND pressing your perfect pout to his cheek?

“Thank you again, Eddie, for driving all the way over here. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He mustered up the strength to break out of his daze. “Yeah, doll. I’ll see you then”

With silent smiles, Eddie watched you retreat back up the siding of your house back through your window, pausing to look back at him. 

Eddie drove home with a smile plastered to his face. 

-

The second week of February was filled with stolen glances in the busy hallways of Hawkins High. Your home economics classes flew by, papers being graffitied with notes and doodles passed between the two of you. Your dreams were filled with Eddie. Every second or third comment to your regular grouping of lunch buddies was something that the metalhead said or did or comments that reminded you of him; But you didn’t dare disturb him and his gaggle of Hellfire-clad freshmen; just like he knew he would warrant a death wish by coming to speak to you and your friends. So, you kept your little slice of heaven to blushing smiles, secret notes, and your home ec class.

When the two of you both found yourselves at school late (which both of you were finding more excuses, Eddie would offer to drive you home. You would sheepishly follow him through the parking lot and take (what Eddie will now permanently hope is) your spot in his rusty van. You were scared to admit it to Eddie, but it was easy for your own revelation: Eddie was very quickly becoming your comfort person.

February 14th was usually a day that reaffirmed that Eddie was destined for a life of loneliness in Hawkins, Indiana. Until, he pried open his overfull locker and was greeted with a small green note with his name neatly printed on it. 

“Eddie. Thank you for being such a great person to be around. I hope you have a great day - just like the rest. You deserve them.”

Under the message, your name sat with a small heart scribbled next to it. Eddie’s cheeks burnt a furious red. His big brown eyes scanned the hallway desperately, hoping to spot your bouncy curls, or hear your infectious laugh; but to no avail. He trudged through the halls. He strode up to Chrissy Cunningham and her gaggle of cheerleaders - your normal crowd.

“Hey Chrissy.”

“Oh- uh, Eddie?” The metalhead could tell that he had caught the girl off guard.

“Sorry, don’t mean to bother you in your natural habitat” the girls shifted uneasily. “But do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her… about home ec homework.” He wavered over his lie, and Chrissy caught the note grasped tightly in his hand. 

“I haven’t seen her yet today.” The girl gave a polite but curt answer. The group dissipated, but Chrissy offered a light touch on his shoulder. “When I see her, I’ll let her know you need to talk to her.” With her words ringing in his ear, and the shrill warning of the morning bell, Eddie was alone in the hallway with his lovestruck mind. He decided to do what he did every time he was in crisis: go to the bleachers and make himself forget about all the shit that was worrying him. He spent the morning outside, but by the end of the day Eddie had spent his time either thinking about you, or tracing every inch of the school looking for you.

You had stayed home, school feeling less than ideal today. You had stuffed the note in Eddie’s locker at the end of the day - opting to stay even later than he did and walked yourself home. You didn’t sleep all night, and could barely get any food down today. Would he understand? You were only bold enough to make a move in subtleties. Would he care? 

Eddie gripped his steering wheel with white knuckles. It was a drive that he wished was both over already and would never end. It was a short drive to your house from Forest Hills Trailer Park. Eddie had called Hellfire off and beelined out of the school when he found out you hadn’t shown up at all. He felt he had paced a trench in his bedroom floor debating whether or not he should go to your house. What if the letter was a mistake? Or if you were only reaffirming you only liked him as a friend? When the clock hit 9:30pm, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his keys from the hook by the door and trotted down the concrete steps. When the van rumbled to a start, he turned the radio fully off, too tempted to be absorbed in his own thoughts. The streetlights of your neighborhood illuminated the small red heart box and the humble bouquet of roses that sat where you normally did. Eddie chewed on his lip so hard he thought he tasted blood. His brakes squealed to a halt on the sidewalk outside of your tidy little house. He had hoped that the light in your bedroom would be off, so he could wimp out and go home and hide in his bed forever. But his heart skipped an excited beat when he saw the light in the window you had crawled out of a week ago was on, and it illuminated your figure moving through your room.His breath caught in his throat as he turned the key in his ignition and grabbed his wares to begin his journey up the ivy siding to your window. 

-

You had hid yourself away in your room - cassettes, VCRs and books being your welcome distraction from your anxious heart. A tap on your window pulled you from Madonna’s breathy whines about living in a material world. Your heart dropped to your knees when you saw a mop of dark ringlets framing an alabaster face. Eddie’s eyes were wider than you have ever seen them, but filled with an unreadable haze. You rushed to the window and let the boy fall into your room. He straightened himself up with a nervous smile, you returned the sentiment. His hands stayed fixed behind his long body. He shifted his weight, but couldn’t help but inch closer to you as well. 

“Hey” he peeped

“Hi, Eddie. What are you-”

“I-uh. I got your note.”

Your breath hitched and it was your turn to shift your weight. The spot on your carpet was suddenly too tempting to look at than Eddie’s face. His hands obscured his vision. In them you saw a small red box, and flowers. You looked up at Eddie with confused excitement; his face was warm, cheeks blushing. 

“I looked for you all day at school today because I wanted to ask you if you’d be my-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you threw yourself into his arms. Your cheek could feel the pounding in his chest and he stood in shock. 

“Of course I will, Eddie.” You breathed into him. You pulled yourself away from him and took the flowers from his hand. You placed them on your desk with a giggle. You turned to see the open box that Eddie had in his hand. In it laid a small chain with a pink and purple guitar pick. You gasped in awe and your eyes filled with tears. 

“I thought, since I have one-” he pulled a red and black pick on a chain out of his Dio tee. “We could kind of match.” Eddie’s voice shook. His cheeks matched the red on his own necklace. You pulled him to you and pecked your plumped lips against his cheek. Eddie chuckled as he spun you to put your new favorite piece of jewelry on you. Eddie clasped the metal and ran his hands down your arms. 

“Let me take you on a date, please?” He whispered. His hands sent shivers throughout your body. His lips pursed on the top of your head and you wished you could stay in this moment forever. You turned in his arms and draped yourself around his neck. His arms migrated from your arms to your cheeks. His doe eyes were dark with admiration, he wanted to devour you whole, but he waited, silently asking for permission to press his lips to yours. You silently obliged him and tilted your chin up to him. His soft lips met yours and the world slowed. His thumb traced small grounding circles on your jaw. Your insides filled with molten, a desperation for the moment to never stop. Eddie’s soft lips probed yours, lightly asking for permission to deepen your kiss. You permitted him with a content sigh and let Eddie show you just how much he really cared about you. All of the words he was too afraid to say to you, all of the times he wished that he could sweep you off your feet and kiss you in front of everyone. For the thank you he couldn’t give you for the note you left him. For the times he wanted to ask you out in his van, or the time he desperately wanted to tuck your wet hair behind your ear the first day he drove you home. He poured all his heart out to you and you felt it. You pulled away softly with wet eyes. 

“Eddie, I would be honored.”

-

Taglist: @eddies-acousticguitar @mmunson86 @sadbitchfangirl @hideoutside @anxiousobserver @ali-r3n @brinleighsstuff @filth-fiction-archive @vintagehellfire @kirstinjayjay @darknesseddiem @poofyloofy @sluggzillaa @aol19 @dark-angel-is-back @keikoraven @emxxblog @adrenalineeerevolver @crybabyddl @lovemegood @cherry-pop3547 @cozmiccass @leelei1980 @trixyvixx @skylar-ish-meh @harrysgothicbitch @emsgoodthinkin @micheledawn1975 @thehuntresswolf @girlwiththerubyslippers @blueberry-lemon

[arlathen]

ancient arlathan au tag game~

@lathbora-virann tagged me to make my lavellan as she'd appear in ancient arlathan -- both at peace and at war -- in this meiker and write a lil bit about what she'd be up to!

tagging: YOU!!! i lost my "like this if you want to be tagged" post. i'm a failure. TAGGING YOU!!!!!!!!! I WANT TO READ ABOUT YOUR OCS!!!!!

would you believe I've written a fair bit about this? during the war with the titans, amadea was one of sylaise's field medics. she actually met mythal's chosen for the first time this way, if you can consider it a meeting when one party is unconscious and half-dead.

she was among the most powerful and most resourceful of sylaise' healers, and so was sent to help in the most difficult battles. a lot of people still died under her. after the titans were sundered and the war ended, sylaise "gifted" her to falon'din as a punishment and humiliation for all her failure. "you are more acquainted with death than healing, let your allegiance reflect it"

she was a favorite of falon'din's. being unlike most of his faithful made her... exotic? special gem, frequently kind of "in display". anyway, she meets the dread wolf properly under falon'din. earliest days of the rebellion, before he fully left court. some deeply pissed noble whose slaves were just freed attacks and wounds him at a party. after solas kills said noble, he runs off to lick his wounds, and falon'din (at this point slightly concerned with the way little brother is pulling away from the rest of the family) sends amadea to tend to him. and of course they end up talking for hours. sparks fly, infatuation, etc. solas continues to make appearances at court more than anything just to have an excuse to see her. the rebellion continues to gear up.

falon'din lets solas' little crush slide only for so long. the more this rebellion begins to look like a real problem, the more he worries that solas will try to free amadea. and one thing a spoiled child will do is break his toys before he'll let them be STOLEN. but he thinks he has one chance to bring little brother back into the fold. so he summons solas and tells him "you want amadea? i will give her to you -- as a slave. you'll love it. you can make her do whatever you want. but if you don't want her, i have no use for a disobedient slave with grand delusions, and i'll just kill her"

i just enjoy the trauma of him having to cup her face and look into her eyes and carve a symbol of ownership into her skin <3 i insert multiple hcs here: that vallaslin used to be full blood magic and there was a tactical benefit to removing it as much as a symbolic one, and that it cannot be removed until it's fully healed. so there's a period of a few months where they're living together and they love each other but solas will scarcely touch her out of fear that he's influencing her in some way. does she want to kiss him? or does he want her to want to kiss him? he doesn't know -- he's never done this to anyone before, he doesn't know how much intention it requires. and the OPTICS of bringing frightened slaves to the lighthouse and having what sure looks like a slave of fen'harel's tend to their injuries.........

anyway, he's able to remove them eventually. she's less involved in the fighting part of the rebellion and mostly cares for the people they free. i don't want to think about what happens after the veil goes up.

[timothyslucy]

dreamt that s6 premiered last night and that tim proposed to lucy, and while as far-fetched as it is to get a chenford proposal of all things straight out the gate, i must admit tim bradford circling back to the spot where he first asked out lucy in front of the precinct to pop the big question is so incredibly genius of my brain to come up with during my deep slumber, therefore i have to add it to my never ending list of wips.

[majinbangus]

Ok. First-

Ahem. Now second:

"You're Soap's girl," he says.

YES.

Don't need to be known as anything else. Plus the captain himself said it so it's an official title.

Smart enough to know you're expendable; loyal enough to take orders, keep your mouth shut, and follow through without asking questions. Not the type of soldier he prefers, but in the right hands, you'd be lethal.

I love the acknowledgement in this whole paragraph. Especially that last sentence.

A soldier with potential and strengths that can be weaknesses, but the potential is there nonetheless. Just needs the right hand to bring out that lethality.

Then you look up, and your blood goes cold. Price is staring at you, and he's smirking.

Hehehehehe <- what was going on in my head (and Price's, i bet) when i got to this part

So down bad for Soap it's obvious i'm cackling

Soap is across the room in moments. He kneels next to you, his hands falling to your arm, to your shoulder, your neck. His thumb brushes across one of the many cuts on your cheek.

The way he checks her over i'm- ゜゜(´O｀)°゜(ノ´Д｀)ノ○|￣|＿

1.8k / 24 / soap soulmate au, part 4

...

Price takes a seat opposite you. Ghost stands behind him, massive arms crossed. Price folds his hands together.

"Tea?" he asks.

You say nothing.

"Ghost, go get us some tea."

Ghost leaves. Price examines you, drumming his fingers against the table. He acts friendly. But he's not playing. You have no doubt he'll extract the information he needs by any means necessary. You need to make sure he doesn't figure out which of your buttons to press.

"You're Soap's girl," he says.

You say nothing. His stare presses in on you as heavily as the silence, pushing your back into your seat.

"Who is he to you?"

You shift, uncomfortable in your chair. "A stranger." You roll your shoulders as if trying to shrug off the implications. "An enemy, ostensibly."

Price leans closer. "You kiss your enemies often?"

Not until Johnny walked into your patrol path. 

"Left quite the impression on Soap. You made a bit of a mark on Ghost, too. Not that it’s hard." Price leans back, giving you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "He’s got a soft spot for Soap, hm? So he doesn't want you hurt. Doesn't want Soap put out."

You remain silent, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He studies you, utterly calm. He's trying to read you. It's obvious he has some kind of game plan, and now he thinks you have one, too.

"Weren't quite planning to walk into someone like him, were you? Things happened, didn't they? Things you had to work through."

"No."

"Really. 'Cause with the way you're acting, I'd wager you had different plans for yourself. Now you're all twisted up in this. Plans got ruined because he came along. Maybe you've got your own plans, hm? Got a whole life back home. A career, clearly. Nice little house. Maybe you've got a boyfriend already."

"What do you want?" you grit out.

"Access, love," he says, like this whole interrogation is just a pleasant chat. That new base of yours, the one Graves commandeered. How do you like it?"

"Barely seen it."

"I imagine you're rather busy lately, then. Lot on your mind. Shepherd must have you working hard." You notice a muscle twitching in his jaw. He has an iron grip on his temper. "But you saw enough of it to get a good look around, hm? The layout, the security, the systems. Tell me about it."

"I don't know anything."

"Nothing?" He leans forward again. He doesn't seem to like that answer. "The security cameras. The guards. The patrols. The sensors." His voice is low. "You don't know anything about those?"

"Didn't ask."

"Hm." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug as the expression on his face hardens further. "You didn't ask." He repeats. "Didn't ask. Didn't ask..." Then he pauses, staring through you. He leans back again. "No, of course not. You follow orders. You do your job. Can't fault you for that." He speaks with a cool tone, but there's a tightness in the lines of his jaw as he says it. "And now you're here and your buddies are gone. Just you. The only target left." He lets the silence stretch out. "Do you think Graves'll come for you?"

"No."

"Hm. Why not?"

"I'm a nobody."

"Hmmmmm." His smile doesn't change, but the lines around his eyes shift as if he finds that amusing. "And you're perfectly content with that? With knowing that when you walk into that base every day, you'll just be another body for Graves to throw onto the heap?”

You hold his gaze. "Yes."

"You don't think you're worth more than that?"

You say nothing.

The smile is still there, but his eyes narrow. He's judging you. Judging your worth. You hold his gaze. He seems to recognize something in you--that you're telling the truth. You know what you are. You're a mercenary. You're expendable.

"You must have a low opinion of yourself." He sighs, crossing his arms and settling a little further into his chair. "You've accepted you're not walking out of this base, then."

You nod.

Price examines you, eyes narrow and intense. Peeling you apart. You're certainly not an idiot. Smart enough to know you're expendable; loyal enough to take orders, keep your mouth shut, and follow through without asking questions. Not the type of soldier he prefers, but in the right hands, you'd be lethal.

Tough to crack, too. He rubs his chin. Hard to threaten someone who doesn't have anything to lose.

Two sharp knocks on the door herald Ghost, who slips back inside and closes the door. He's not carrying tea.

"Might want to pick up the pace," Ghost says. "Soap's back."

You stiffen, as much as you try not to show it.

Price's gaze flicks over to you, noting the tensing of your shoulders. "He knows?"

"Affirmative, sir. Someone outside must've seen her mark and tipped him off."

At that moment, there's a banging on the door. Johnny's voice echoes from the other side. "LT!"

Hearing it is a punch to the gut.

Soap keeps knocking. "Ghost, get yer lyin' arse out here!"

Price looks at Ghost and nods toward the door. "Go on, then, handle it."

Ghost curses under his breath and slips outside.

"Hell's fuckin' bells, LT, what's goin' on?"

Ghost's reply is too low and muffled to catch.

"Busy with what?" Soap snaps. "I know she's here. I need to see her."

Ghost's reply this time sounds harsher.

"Like hell I'm not. That's my goddamned soulmate, aye? My girl. I've got a right to see her. You'll not keep me from the one person in the whole bloody world that's mine."

"Captain's interrogating her." Ghost's tone is low and loud now, a warning. "You don't get special privileges with her."

Soap lets loose a string of colorful curses. You can make out roughly half of them through his accent. "What does Price think she's got that's so bloody important I don't get to know about it?"

"She's a Shadow, Johnny. Chrissake."

"Aye, an' she's in that room goin' it alone. She needs me."

Your heart twists in your chest, and it forces out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It's eating at your resolve. Just hearing him speak about you is making you want things you shouldn't. He sounds like he wants to protect you. Like you're worth something to him. You try to shake it out of your head. You're a prisoner here. This isn't a love story. He doesn’t love you. He doesn't know you.

Then you look up, and your blood goes cold. Price is staring at you, and he's smirking.

His eyes move over you, dissecting you piece by piece, and you feel your expression revealing too much. He saw your mask slip. He saw what you're concealing.

"I'll be damned." His smirk grows. "I thought Shadows were all cold-blooded bastards."

Your mouth twitches like it wants to bare teeth. "Go to hell."

"Ghost," he calls mildly at the closed door, "get in here. And bring Soap, would you?"

No no no no. Panic washes over you. You pull at your cuffs, feeling yourself lapse into a freeze response. Not Johnny. You can't face him. You try desperately to get a grip on your body's reaction, to remember your training.

You turn your head away from the door and fix your eyes on the opposite corner of the room. Among the many rifles and launchers racked on the walls, you find a pistol and you concentrate on it as hard as you can. You study the polish smudged near the mouth of the barrel. The scarred grip.

Behind you, the door opens.

Soap is across the room in moments. He kneels next to you, his hands falling to your arm, to your shoulder, your neck. His thumb brushes across one of the many cuts on your cheek.

You feel outside of yourself. Soap seems too fixated on your state of being to notice.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ. What did you rat bastards do to my girl?" he growls.

"She did this to herself," Ghost says. He puts his hand on Soap's shoulder. "And we need her restrained while we question her--"

"Back off," Soap warns, brushing his hand away. "Am not dealin' with you right now."

Price cuts in, voice firm. "Soap, cool off. Now."

Soap's temper flashes hot. His jaw clenches. His muscles tense. But he takes a deep, steadying breath. "Aye, Captain," Soap says. He straightens up, his hands falling away from your face. But it's clear his blood is still simmering. "Permission to remove her cuffs."

"Negative," Price says. Soap starts to say something, but Price cuts him off. "No. She's unpredictable. You know that as well as we do. We can't afford to trust her until we understand what Graves' orders are."

Soap curls and uncurls his fists, evidence of the sheer will he's exerting to keep his feet planted where they are. "And what do you expect me to do? Just leave her here? Not say a word to her?"

That smirk curls Price's lips again. "Quite the opposite. I'd like you to do the talking for us."

Price stands and gestures to Ghost again, and Ghost guides Soap by the shoulder over to him. Soap resists on principle for a moment before his mind catches up and he walks stiffly to the other side of the table.

“She has information we need," Price says. "Alejandro, remember? Once that's squared away, we'll need no hostage. You understand me?"

There's a beat of silence.

"You want me to interrogate her," Soap says.

"I want access," Price replies.

"And once I have the information?"

"Then she’s all yours. You can do whatever you like. Let her go. Hell, drive her to the airport if you want. But until then" --Price's hand lands on Soap's shoulder and pushes him down into the interrogator's seat across from you-- "she doesn't leave this room. You understand?"

You feel Soap's eyes on you.

"Fine. I'll do it. But it's gotta be me and her. No one else. You let me do my job the way I know it needs to be done."

"Hm." Price glances at you. You're still concentrating on the pistol on the far wall. "That's just fine. Ghost, let's give 'em some time alone."

Ghost follows Price out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Sir?" Ghost's voice is low and uncertain.

"Trust me, Soap is the leverage we needed. He'll do just fine.”

Ghost is quiet for a moment. "If he keeps his head on straight."

Price hums in agreement, his smile genuine now. "If he keeps his head on straight."

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / [part 4] / part 5

more Soap / masterlist tag

[clarkeybabey]

❝ we don't even fight anymore ❞

# summary; watching your relationship slowly end

# playlist; we don't fight anymore, Carly Pearce (ft Chris Stapleton)

# word count; 715

# note; i have three drafts w/ over 1k words i simply can't be asked to finish them omg, I love writing angst, u don't understand

Things were coming to a slow end. The weekend was winding down, and you had been out later than usual on both Saturday and Sunday. When you finally returned home, Harry hadn't even awakened at the sound of your footsteps in the bathroom or the movement in the bed when you snuggled under the duvet next to him. The silence was deafening, the absence of his usual reaction weighing heavily on you as you lay there, lost in your thoughts.

Once upon a time, if you were out past the time he had decided to turn in for the night your phone would be flooded with messages asking if you needed a ride or if you'd be home soon, but now there was nothing but radio silence, not even a message to see if you were coming home.

On days he was filming for the Sidemen channels he would shoot for them to end at the same time so he could make it home in time to make dinner with you, this time he was home three hours late, especially when you needed him here to hopefully take care of you even a little, "Where've you been, kinda needed that medicine," you mumble stirring some milk into the tea you'd made for your sore throat.

"Went for dinner with the boys," his eyes attempt to meet yours and he hopes they will for the first time in a while, but you're too busy staring a hole into the space on the counter where your mug sits.

You nod, nearly biting a hole through your cheek, praying he can't see the hurt in your face at the obvious lack of invitation. You turn your back to him completely as you rummage through the fridge to find your own dinner, "I brought you that pasta you like," he speaks up realizing what you're doing, you hum as he slides the plastic takeaway box toward you, across the top is the name of your favorite restaurant and that makes it hurt ten times worse.

Later that evening you lay in bed with your book in hand and a reading lamp above you, he's lying just next to you, but also somehow feels continents away on his phone scrolling through Instagram. You can't help but swallow hard as you notice he seems to be stalking some model you both had met at a video shoot not too long ago.

For your own sanity, you shut your book and slide it into your bedside table drawer, giving it a nudge with your knee letting it slam shut. As you tug your phone off the charger you see his brows knit together in stupid confusion, that you refuse to acknowledge. The air conditioning has goosebumps rising on your bare legs when you head for the bathroom.

"I just don't see an issue," he says, walking you in circles and speaking so calmly about something that nearly broke you, making you nauseous. Not caring a little about your mental state, you mistakenly decided to speak up about seeing what he had been doing on his phone last night, but he seemed to be completely lost on that topic.

Suppressing a scoff you shrug, doing your best to even out your breathing, "If you don't, I don't either," you want to scream in his face about how it made you feel, maybe even beg for him to call you beautiful because he used to make you feel like the only woman to ever grace this planet.

But you don't; instead deciding to keep the same stoic expression you have sported so very often.

God, you wish upon every star that you could be blessed with the strength to either fight for this, curse his name and let him know how this silence made you feel, or end this with hatred in your heart.

You can't hate him, you wouldn't have made it through university without his encouragement, and you wouldn't have been able to make nearly as much of a name for yourself without being featured on his channel occasionally all those years ago. There's no way you'd be here today without all of it. You don't care enough about anything with how numb you are to waste time hating him.

[ishipthis]

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: iCarly Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Freddie Benson/Carly Shay Characters: Freddie Benson, Carly Shay, Harper Raines (iCarly), Spencer Shay, Millicent Mitchell, Marissa Benson, Lewbert Sline Additional Tags: Fluff, Drunken Confessions, Love Confessions, Phone Sex, Friends to Lovers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Denial of Feelings, Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 1 of iDidn't see this coming Summary:

An accidental text message sent while drunk leads to a situation Carly never saw coming.

Or; Carly sends Freddie a Creddie Fan fic, and everything blows up.