Whogirl2011 - Whogirl - Tumblr Blog
Gretta: Are you trying to be annoying, or does it just come naturally? Chlodwig, proudly: It comes naturally.
Thanks for the tag @psychicbluebirdmiracle!
@coruscantiprincess @louwhose @xqueenybee @precariousrelic
ATTENTION
If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)
I've got a small divot above my left eyebrow from a scar I got when I was 8 from being spun around in a chair too close to a metal stair railing.
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Gretta: Uh oh. Dwight: Uh oh good or uh oh bad? Gretta: When is "uh oh" ever good? Dwight: I don't know. Maybe this time?
i need a hero
Eddie comes to the rescue when you're upset at a party.
Contains: Eddie x Fem!Reader. Fluff, hurt/comfort. very slight AU, just in that there's a tiny bit of King!Steve lingering. Tommy H is a jerk but Eddie is a sweetheart. and seen in his underwear...twice. No description of reader's appearance, no use of y/n. Word Count: ~2,400 Warnings: none! hello i am trying to figure out how to write for Eddie again! not edited, apologies for any mistakes & the rushed ending. enjoy friends <3
Eddie, sitting on the kitchen counter in his boxers, bowl of cereal on his lap, rolls his eyes at Jeff and answers him around a mouthful of Cap’n Crunch.
“Dude, no way.”
“Aw, c’mon —”
“I said no.”
It’s been a busy day today. He had an early, miserable shift at work, dealing with the absolute shitstorm of a morning rush by himself because his coworker called off. Then he was flitting back and forth across town, running some errands that Wayne had requested he take care of, if he so happened to be out and about — which he had been, because he was also making the weekend rounds dealing to his usual clientele. And then he stopped by the Sinclairs’ residence for Erica’s weekly guitar lesson and God, he loves the kid, he really does, but sometimes the sass was just a little too biting, even for him.
So when he finally came home, he starting pulling off his clothes as soon as walked through the door — t-shirt strewn over the chair, jeans puddled on the carpet — and collapsed on the couch in his skivvies. He was out in seconds. Deep, guttural snores could be heard even when standing on the stoop outside.
He was less than pleased when Jeff and Gareth showed up, hammering their fists against the door. It took a few tries, but Eddie, cranky and disheveled, finally opened the door. And not only did they have the audacity to wake him from his nap, but they were here to convince him to attend a party.
At Steve Harrington’s, of all places.
Eddie takes another bite of cereal, eyeing his friends suspiciously. “Why is Harrington still throwing parties, anyway? He graduated.”
“Because he lives at home in that giant, empty house,” says Gareth, like it’s obvious. “What, you get your diploma, and all of a sudden you’re not allowed to have a good time anymore?”
A bit of sugary milk catches in the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and he licks it away. “Look, I’m tired. And it’s not really my idea of a fun night out.” He could picture it now: he would be scowling away in the corner the whole time, beer in hand, watching people who didn’t like him get obnoxiously drunk and dance to bad music.
Jeff crosses his arms over his chest, lips pursed. “Your girl’s gonna be there.”
Eddie sets his bowl down and hops off the counter. “I’ll get dressed.”
In the tasteful entryway of the Harrington house, Eddie bites the inside of his cheek nervously. Looking around, it’s more or less what he expected — a sea of faces belonging to people that mostly ignore him and his friends, although a few sneers from green-and-gold-clad partygoers are sent their way as they walk through the house. And all while some awful Bonnie Tyler song is blasting in the background.
And it’s awfully crowded. Eddie, Gareth, and Jeff squeeze their way through the throng of people in the living room, over to where Grant is seated on the couch next to Dustin, who grins and gives them a dopey wave as they approach.
“Heeey,” he cheers. “You guys came!” He lurches off of the couch and leans in for…a hug? A high five? No one can tell because the toe of his sneaker catches on the rug, and he stumbles forward into Eddie, who catches him by the shoulders to steady him.
Harrington, standing several feet away but watching his young friend keenly, makes a face. “Dustin, take it easy, man. Go slow.”
Oh, Harrington’s playing babysitter. Guess that explains it.
“Yesss, Mom,” Dustin snarks, reaching around to pat Eddie on the back, who returns the gesture while stifling a laugh.
“How many drinks have you had?” Jeff asks him.
“One,” he says proudly.
“And his next one’s gonna be a glass of water,” Steve chimes in, making his way over to the group. He smiles politely around at everyone, but only addresses Eddie, because truthfully, he doesn’t actually know any of the other boys' names.
“Munson.”
Eddie nods, and replies stiffly, “Harrington.”
He hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s beer in the kitchen.”
“Cool, man. Thanks.”
There’s an awkward pause. Steve makes his exit before the silence can become too unbearable. Jeff flops down on the couch next to Dustin.
“Wow, Henderson,” Gareth teases, “I can’t believe our little freshman got us an invitation to King Steve’s house.”
Dustin shrugs nonchalantly, but his goofy smile remains. “I got friends in high places,” he says, slurring slightly on the last s.
The boys quickly strike up conversation, but Eddie can’t focus on it; everyone’s voices blend together into one monotonous buzz. He’s here for one person, and one person only.
His dark eyes scan the room impatiently, trying to figure out if you’re here yet — if you’re even planning on showing up at all. Where did Jeff get his intel from, anyway?
“Grant, do you know if —?”
“Out by the pool,” Dustin butts in, all-knowing even in his inebriated state.
“Got it.”
Without hesitating Eddie makes for the back door that leads out to the pool area. Outside, the cool evening air is a welcome reprieve from the stuffiness of the house; the lights from the in-ground pool casts a greenish glow over everything, adding to the more subdued atmosphere.
As though drawn to a magnet, Eddie’s gaze immediately lands on your form, huddled up on a pool chair, staring pensively at the water. He recognizes a few of your friends standing together a few feet away, chatting, but you don’t seem to be interested in joining the conversation.
Eddie clears his throat, walking over to you slowly.
You look up as he approaches. “Hey, you,” he says as casually as he can manage, plopping down on the seat across from you.
“Hi Eddie,” you return, with a small smile that doesn’t quite touch your eyes.
“How are you this fine evening?” He cringes inwardly at his dorky tone. God.
You shrug, unhappy but not really wanting to be a downer at what was supposed to be a fun party. “A little tired, if I’m being honest, but," you raise a fist in half-hearted perseverance, "I’m working on it!”
Eddie frowns, a wrinkle forming between his brows as he looks closer at your expression. “Not in a party mood? Well, me either. My buddies all but dragged me out here.” Not exactly what happened, but he digresses.
You suck air in through your teeth. “Oh, I know that feeling.”
He rolls his eyes. “Ugh, friends. They’re the worst, amiright?”
You groan. “Yes. When they wanna hang out with you and have a good time with you in a festive environment? Just awful. They love to torture us.”
Even in your moment of playful banter, it’s hard to keep the mild distress from clouding your features. Eddie, almost alarmingly perceptive, doesn’t miss it. He leans in, and lowers his voice.
“Did something happen?”
You shake your head, but he knows you’re lying.
Resting a large hand on your thigh, he asks, “Are you sure?” The weight of his calloused palm, warm even through the denim of your jeans, is a comforting presence.
“It’s silly,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.
“It’s not,” he insists, firm but gentle. “Whatever it is.”
You hold your breath for a moment, before releasing it in a heavy sigh. “Tommy H is here.”
Eddie doesn’t even need to hear more before a grimace spreads across his face.
You hesitate before speaking again. “I was wearing a new bracelet, and I took it off to let Stacy try it on,” you quietly explain, rubbing your naked left wrist with the opposite hand, “and he just took it. Threw it in the deep end of the pool and it sunk to the bottom. I can’t get it out with the skimmer, and it’s too cold to jump in and get it…” you trail off, squirming, face feeling hot.
Relaying this to Eddie, you’re incredibly embarrassed. It feels very childish to let yourself be upset over something so trivial.
Calm down, Carol had said. It’s not like it’s gone forever…you’ll get it back in the summer!
Her snarky laugh echoes in your ears.
“He’s such a fucking tool.” Eddie breaks you out of your reverie, face scrunched in anger on your behalf. He twists his upper body so he can turn and stare at the water. “Where did he throw it?”
You rest an elbow on your knee, cupping your chin in your hand. “On the other end, by the diving board.”
Eddie rises to his feet, peeling his leather jacket off. He’s wearing only a black t-shirt underneath, worn and soft-looking; you don’t miss the sliver of soft white tummy that’s exposed as he tosses his jacket aside.
Your eyes widen. “What’re you doing?”
He kicks his shoes off, and then peels off his socks. “Getting your bracelet back.”
There’s a catch in your throat. “Oh, Eddie, no —”
“Shush. It’s no biggie.”
Eddie steels himself for what he’s about to do next. With his eyes closed, he shucks the rest of his clothing off until he’s standing in his checkered boxers. In front of you, and everybody else, and also God. Goosebumps break out over his exposed flesh.
“Ew, Munson, what the fuck are you doing?” Probably Carol, or Tina, or whoever — it doesn’t matter. They all might as well be the same person.
“Don’t mind me, folks,” he calls out, his voice determinedly light. He lets himself glance at you only once — one hand is clamped over your mouth in shock, but your eyes are shining.
Whatever that might mean.
He keeps his curly head high as he struts past the others standing around the Harrington’s pool area. There’s a chorus of jeers that follow him, and even one mocking wolf-whistle; someone else shouts, “Nobody wants to see that!”
He throws a middle finger in their general direction before jumping into the water.
It’s fucking freezing, Jesus, but he easily spies the chunky piece of jewelry laying against the tile. He quickly swims to the bottom, snags the bracelet in one hand, and uses his feet to propel himself back to the surface.
Both touched and horrified, you rush to the ledge of the pool and crouch by the water. Eddie paddles over to meet you, grinning triumphantly as he waves the bracelet above his head, a clunky thing made of pink and blue plastic.
“Got it!”
Half-laughing, half-frantic at the thought of him getting hypothermia, you grab at his slick forearms. “Get out of there!”
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”
Eddie climbs out of the pool with your help, and he starts trembling immediately upon exit. The cool air, once refreshing, now feels positively wintry on his wet skin, so it could just be that...or it could be the fact that you’re kind of holding him while he’s in his underwear.
Both, probably.
“Let’s get you inside,” you urge. “I don’t know if Steve has any towels out here.”
Clasping a hand around his bicep, you tug him back into the house and into the nearest bathroom, ignoring the second round of catcalls and confused stares sent your way.
You make him sit on the counter by the sink, and wrap a towel tightly around his torso, and then another. “You should not have done that, Eddie,” you chastise him, though you’re unable to keep the incredulous grin off your face. “You’re crazy!”
“Maybe I am,” he says nonchalantly, looking at you with a dreamy expression.
You grab a third towel, and drape it over Eddie’s head. “Hold still,” you order.
“Yes, ma’am.”
You scrub the towel through his soaked hair in an effort to dry the curls, though you suspect you’re fighting a losing battle. Still, you squeeze the terrycloth fabric gently around his locks, trying to stem the dripping.
Eddie lets himself revel in the feeling of your hands working over his hair — even if it is through a towel. He stares unabashedly at your face, pinched in concentration. You’re so close like this, just inches away from him, lips slightly parted and perfect…
Eventually, you give up and lay the towel aside. “Well, I think that’s as good as we’re gonna get. Unless you want me to steal Steve’s hairdryer,” you add slyly.
“M’good, babe. Don’t worry,” he reassures you. “Just gotta warm up, is all.”
Your hands come to rest on his shoulders and rub soothingly at the towel-wrapped skin.
“Thank you,” you murmur. “So much, Eddie, I can’t even tell you.”
“Please. I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he replies.
A shy silence falls over the two of you. You notice for the first time that your middle is resting against the counter, right between Eddie’s legs.
Fiddling with a loose thread on the towel, you avoid his gaze, knowing that those dark irises will swallow you right up if you dare to meet them. “You’re really nice, you know that?”
“Only to you.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “That’s not true, and you know it.”
He shrugs. “Fine. I’m reluctantly nice to other people. But I’m only willingly nice to you.”
You risk a quick glance at his face. “Your…your lips are blue, Eddie.”
“Are they?” He smiles at you knowingly. A gentle hand comes to rest on your lower back, keeping you in place.
Your breath hitches. You feel like you could melt into a puddle. “Yes.”
“They’re pretty cold, I guess. Do you think…maybe, you could help me with that?”
“I…I think I can, yes.”
Eddie’s lips crash into yours. His hands come up to lovingly cradle your face, securing your mouth to his. He’s pleasantly surprised when your tongue slips into his mouth, and he eagerly deepens the kiss, trying not to smile when he feels you shiver.
“Okay, pretty girl?” he mumbles against your lips.
“Y-yes,” you stutter out, clutching at him, suddenly self-conscious. Sensing the tension, he strokes your cheekbone with his thumb soothingly, then pecks at your lips again, once, twice, a third time.
His expression is so soft when he pulls back to look at you. He doesn't let go of your face. “I’ve been wanting to do that for forever,” he admits.
Your heart leaps. “Really?”
“Of course.”
“Oh,” you breathe.
He smiles crookedly. “Wouldn’t jump in that pool for just anybody, y’know?”
You pat his chest in gratitude. “That’s very sweet of you Eddie, to risk hypothermia on my behalf.”
“Speaking of which, I’m still feeling a little chilled,” he complains. “Do me a favor. Come a little closer, would ya?”
You're more than happy to oblige.
thank you for reading!! <3
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useless? NEVER eyecandy? YES
legend has it that girl still hasn’t cleared out the 9,000 useless screenshots on her phone
Rick deserves all the love in the world!
We did it boys. We did it.
Baldric: Well, if you'll excuse us, my lady fair and I are gonna go inside and, um... have brunch. Hexela: We're not having brunch. Dwight: Ohhh, kill me. Gretta: *gagging noises*
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"why does writing take so long" because 60% of it is coming up with a sentence, realizing that sentence doesn't work the way you want it to, and staring at a wall
That damn smirk... OOF!
this has to be my favorite scene of eddie
