#ave.scrawls

[avesque]

hii! would I be able to request a fic about neteyam? just pure fluff? but aged up if that makes sense like neteyam would be 19 and the reader would be the same age as well!🫶 hope you’re having a beautiful day!🫶

in the quiet of the night — neteyam

— you find out the remedy to a headache is a slow dance.

INCLUDES fem!reader, omatikaya!reader. established relationship, fluff. 1.0k words.

NOTE i love writing characters slow dancing; thank you for giving me an excuse to do so!

it is past eclipse when neteyam and the other hunters finally reached the village with a plentiful catch. the weather had drastically changed throughout the whole day, the wind biting at his face but the sun harsh on his skin. it had started a blooming headache on the back of his skull.

he would love nothing more than a peaceful rest and to come home to you but the people await, the feast just starting as the night grows deeper.

you are by his side, fixing the necklace you have weaved for him many moons ago. the place is starting to fill up as your fellow people gather around the bonfire.

he winces as a group of kids run past you, squealing in delight. it makes his head pound harder and he closes his eyes to try and ease the feeling.

“is something wrong?” your voice is like music to his ears, palms delicate against his skin as you feel his forehead.

neteyam shakes his head. “nothing bad, just a little headache.”

he cracks his eyes open to find you frowning, a worried dent in between your eyebrows. he smiles just to reassure you, cupping your face and gently rubbing away your worry.

“i am fine, tìyawn,” he promises. “it will go away soon.”

the olo’eyktan first pays gratitude to eywa for the clan’s blessing and the feast starts. the night is alive, bright yellows and orange dancing in the night, filled with laughter and the chatter of people you have known all your life.

there are girls dancing as other na’vi taps away on their instruments. a quiet laugh bubbles up your throat that has neteyam turning his gaze to you.

when you meet his curious eyes, you point somewhere a few feet from you, where lo’ak is getting dragged by a familiar girl, one you’ve heard is interested in him.

you both watch as his brother clumsily moves to the music, tripping over his feet in the process. a little ways behind them is the chief and his mate, twin smiles on their faces as they watch their youngest son. when their gazes flit in your direction, you make a decision to drag neteyam up there.

you make some flimsy little excuse to save neteyam from his agony. the tsahìk sends you and her son a worried glance but you reassure her you will take care of him as best as you can, and will call her if it ever worsens.

the walk back to your shared tent is quiet. your hands are clasped so tightly in his, snug and perfect like it was meant for him to hold all along.

“thank you,” he says into the night. you look at him, so pretty under the moons’ light, the beads in his braids reflecting the faint glow from above.

there’s a funny little smile playing on your lips. “what for?” you squeeze his hand one, two, three times.

neteyam shrugs. he squeezes your hand one, two, three times and tugs you closer. you place a palm on his chest, the other still holding his hand. a cold breeze flutters by as he rests his forehead on yours.

though this is an unusual act from your mate, you do not question him. the people are too busy and caught up in the feast, you suppose no one will come back out here this early and maybe that’s why neteyam decides to let his guard down.

you don’t notice it at first, too focused on the feel of him this close to you, but you’re moving — neteyam is moving, you realize. slowly, back and forth, a mess of feet and a shy giggle from him.

“what are we doing?” your question is laced with equal parts fondness and mirth. unsure as you are, you follow him, just as you always do, in anything and everything.

“dancing.”

you pull away, a confused little pout on your face. “this is dancing?”

he hums. your confusion doubles as he raises one arm with your hand still in his.

“turn,” he says, and you do, movements clumsy and unsure, but when you’re facing him again and he has a big smile on his face threatening to split his face in half, you will your worries away.

“this is dancing?” you reiterate.

“yes,” he muses. his smile is boyish, a little sharper on the other end, a light smirk. it is so reminiscent of the fourteen-year-old neteyam that stole your heart. “dad dances like this with mom. he says it is a sky people thing.”

“just like this?” neteyam prompts you to turn again, and you do, though he does not let go of your hands. his left arm goes over your head and, once you’re facing forward with your back to his, he pulls you closer. “without music?”

“there is music. he sings it.”

“the olo’eyktan sings?”

his chuckle is right by your ear. “hums it,” he explains.

it’s kind of awkward, lumbering away with your moves unpracticed. his hands let go and you think it’s over, but then his arms are around you, hugging you to his chest. his warmth is welcomed, body melting into his own. you lean back and rest your head on the juncture of his neck, a space you believe was molded to fit you in all ways.

it’s ironic how you were laughing at lo’ak earlier yet tripping over neteyam’s feet every now and then.

you hear him right by your ear — a deep hum, coming straight from his chest. it vibrates against your back, a soft buzz that tickles your spine.

your pair turns in a slow circle to the song he’s humming, backed by the faint hubbub from the gathering and the noise of insects around.

“is that the same song your father hums?” you tilt your head back a little.

a faint kiss is dropped on your temple before he rests his cheek there. “yes. he’s been humming it ever since i can remember.” he pauses, then, “i’ve always dreamt of doing the same someday… with the person i love.”

“well,” you nuzzle closer to him, gently nosing under his chin, “how is that dream going?”

neteyam exhales a content sigh, headache forgotten. “like i can stay like this forever.”

[avesque]

hi sweet darling my my myyy i adore your writing so very much and wanted to know if you are still taking requests from that one post you linked? if so i would love to see something with tsu’tey for the “i am in love with a moment we never had” + angst? something about him with some angst just scratches an itch in my brain idkkk lots of love btw mwah !<3

across the stars — tsu’tey

INCLUDES fem!reader, human!reader. angst. 1.1k words.

NOTE anon you are so sweet omg thank you so much! <3

jakesully hands tsu’tey a note one afternoon after the battle, a crumpled piece of folded paper with specks of dirt on the edges. it looks tiny and, tsu’tey admits, unimportant.

he refuses to take it.

the olo’eyktan sighs, pushing the scrap back in his direction. “come on, brother. it’s important.”

tsu’tey begs to differ, taking a step back and scowling at the chief. a small, immature part of him is still stingy about the turn of events; how he had no choice but to pass his title to jakesully when he was on the brink of death.

“it’s from y/n.”

tsu’tey stills. his ears fall back in his hair at the mention of your name, tail swishing in curiosity.

you were one of the researchers — a biologist, he remembers you saying — alongside grace who studied pandoran flora and fauna. before the war, you had wormed your way well into the clan with your bright smiles and tinkling laughter. despite being one of the sky people, no one was able to resist you.

you were magnetic.

tsu’tey prides himself in his great resolve, his firm judgment. he is as untrusting as one can be; calculative when needed and always skeptical.

though he cannot deny how even he was left defenseless to your charm. it pains him to admit it but he grew fond of your excited chatter, especially the way your little demon face would light up at the mere mention of new plants, among other things.

he snatches the paper in jakesully’s hands and leaves without a word.

the note has been tucked under the woven mat in his hut for days now. tsu’tey has convinced himself there are far more important things to focus on than your flimsy little gift, and as dawn breaks over the moon, he finds himself grappling for excuses he can tell himself to prolong the inevitable.

a frustrated scowl mars his face, jumping off his hammock and kneeling on the floor, lifting the carpet to reveal the folded scrap. it seems almost threatening as it sits there, staring back.

he chooses to get it done and over with.

he turns it over a few times, looking for something; anything, but all there is is smeared dirt. finally, with bated breath, he slips a finger in the crease and unfolds it.

the paper is filled with your neat handwriting, dark ink nearly glowing on the white background. his heart sinks a bit as he sees how little you wrote but he ignores the feeling.

my dearest, tsu’tey, it reads.

his hands shake and the paper crumples beneath his fingers.

you may be reading this while i am already off this moon, or you may be reading this with a scowl perfectly painted on your face with me in front of you. either way, i just hope you’re reading this.

i would first like to thank you for your warm welcome.

tsu’tey grunts at that, shifting on his haunches, something ugly bubbling in his chest, one he cannot name.

i know how difficult it must be to accept someone like me yet you did not push me away. (you did, but you are unsuccessful! i am just stubborn, and i’m glad i am.)

the countless moments i have spent with you are everything to me. i will hold them close to my heart forever.

from the deepest crevices of my heart, thank you. i appreciate all the things you’ve done for me. for showing me the flowers and telling me about them, letting me come with you on hunts, and for merely walking with me in the forest. i hope you enjoyed those moments as much as i did.

the sky people are going back on earth soon and i have decided to come with them. before i go, i will tell you a secret.

my heart has grown too fond of you. sometimes, i fear you can hear the way my heart beats a little faster when you’re near. you have enraptured me. you are the most beautiful creature i have ever laid my eyes upon.

but i —

the letter is cut off, scrawled over by strings of ink. it starts again below, and the words sends an arrow straight through his heart.

i am in love with a moment we never had. not entirely, i suppose, since i do not go over our moments the way you do. i do not experience them in a… friendly way, shall i say? the way you do. it does not translate the same way between us.

i have spent nights with you clouding my mind, the sound of your voice a hazy lullaby in my head. i have dreamt of holding you, of kissing you, of telling you i love you.

i see you, tsu’tey. even when i am no longer in this moon, remember that somewhere in this vast universe, someone out there sees you.

thank you for sharing a part of yourself with me.

yours, y/n.

the letter is nearly balled up in tsu’tey’s firm grip. it is miniscule compared to his hand, and it is a reminder of how small yours had looked in his when he guided you over rocks that one time he showed you around.

something sits heavy in his heart. guilt, he’s come to know. the sky people left just two days ago and jakesully had given him your letter a week before.

he falls back on the floor of his hut, the mat digging under his left thigh.

had he known of your feelings… had he conquered his fear and read your letter earlier…

because tsu’tey may be known for his great resolve but all it took was your blinding smile to spear through his walls. he was untrusting as one can be but the trust you have shown you had in him had him wavering.

he suppose it is just right that he was stripped of his title. one so mighty will not cower before a piece of paper, but he had, and he missed the one chance eywa has given him to let you know of his feelings that had grown and bloomed over the course of your moments spent together.

he has nothing of you to remember by except this letter and the guilt that has taken root over his chest. he knows it will stay right there as long as he lives.

[avesque]

Hi can I request a Neteyam with his female mate where she goes off to explore the forest alone for ages and forgets to tell him and he can’t find her for a long time and when he does he pulls her to him in a tight hug not wanting to let go and she asks him what’s wrong, he is reluctant to tell her that he was worried about her so she comforts him by rubbing his back and cheeks and pressing her forehead against his. When they go back to their home together he doesn’t let go of her and his protective nature comes out and just wants comforting touches and soft kisses? Thanks 😊

in these arms — neteyam

INCLUDES fem!reader, omatikaya!reader. established relationship, fluff. 1.5k words.

NOTE my first request omg 🥺 i added a lil detail to emphasize neteyam’s worry for reader, i hope you don’t mind! i may have gone a lil overboard haha this was so fun to write. thank you for requesting! <3

sunlight dawns upon the tent you share with neteyam, carving shadows into corners. your eyes flutter open as light settles on your eyelids, immediately reaching over for your mate’s warmth. to your disappointment, you’re met with only his blanket.

the day has barely started yet your lover is already out and about. he probably joined the hunters for their early morning hunts. groaning, you get up and ready yourself for the day, getting giddy at the thought of greeting neteyam the moment he comes back.

you’re in the middle of weaving another bracelet for neteyam when the party arrives. you hear them first before you see them — a group of direhorses galloping, stomping across the forest floor. your beads rattle lightly in its container.

“that’s them,” neytiri says, not taking her eyes off her beadwork. a smile graces your face as you eagerly stuff your unfinished accessory in a pouch to greet neteyam.

you smother him in a hug the moment his feet hit the ground. neteyam huffs out a startled breath before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“you weren’t there when i woke up,” you complain lightly against his skin. his hold on you tightens.

neteyam pulls back slightly to look at you. soiled hands brush away stray braids on the side of your face but you let him do it anyway.

“i’m sorry, my love,” he whispers. his gaze is so soft you might melt right on the spot. “duty called.”

you let out a laugh. “i know.” then you pout, thumbing away the dirt smeared over his cheekbones. “would have liked it better if you woke me up and bid me goodbye.”

he hums. “you’d like that?”

“i’d love that.”

“okay,” he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead. “i will from now on.”

your smile is nearly blinding and neteyam thinks you have never been more beautiful. his chest floods with warmth at the light in your eyes, the bounce in your movements. he did mean to wake you up earlier but decided against it. you had looked so peaceful he did not have the heart to disrupt your much needed rest.

it has been a week of recovery for you, after all. he aches just thinking about how you’ve been bedridden the week before that due to the virus you miraculously caught. it was so severe that his father had to call his friends at the lab to help you.

neteyam had never been so helpless as he watched you moan and cry, your appetite gone and energy so depleted you cannot even sit up without support.

he opens his mouth to say something but gets interrupted by another hunter. he squeezes your waist once before letting go though still keeping you close.

“did we catch enough?” ray’ui, an omatikaya boy the same age as him, asks.

neteyam looks around. they didn’t have the usual men come for hunting this morning; some preferred to hunt in the afternoon for supper. “i think so. until for lunch, at least.”

“will you join this afternoon?”

“yes,” he nods thoughtfully. he plans to make some good dinner especially just for you to gain back the health and weight you’ve lost the past two weeks.

neteyam is called again by another na’vi before getting caught in a conversation with an elder. it’s nearing midday when kiri comes up to him with scrunched eyebrows, her hands irritatingly placed on her hips.

“have you seen y/n?”

the question makes neteyam stagger a little. he’s seen you, yes, but that was hours before. the sun is so high up in the sky now, the weather bordering on sweltering hot.

“i did… earlier, after we got back.” his eyebrows furrow. “why?”

“mother is looking for her.” kiri looks around. “you sure you haven’t seen her?”

neteyam shakes his head. an irrational fear stabs at his chest but he tries to shut it down, convincing himself you’re around here somewhere. he makes an excuse of looking for you since it’s nearing lunch. when afternoon comes and he has not seen even your shadow, he goes running to his father.

“what is it?” jake asks, eyes trained on the branch he’s buffing.

“i haven’t seen y/n since this morning.” the worry and fear bleeds into his every word, enough so that jake puts away his things. neteyam can only wonder how distressed he looks.

“i’m sure she’s—”

“neteyam!”

neteyam looks over to see ra’yui. he greets the olo’eykran before turning to him. “i’ve been looking for you. we are preparing for the hunt.”

he runs an aggravated palm over his face before sighing. “i’m sorry, i won’t be able to join you today.”

though his friend senses his frustration, he doesn’t press any further. once he’s gone, neteyam once again face his father.

“i’ve searched everywhere and i have not seen her. not even a trace. dad, please.”

he watches as his father’s resolve crumbles. he doesn’t even care how despe he looks right now as long as he can find you and make sure you’re alright.

his father has already arranged a search party for you, including the sully boys and other men. neteyam’s heartbeat seems to bleed through his eardrums the deeper they reach in the forest and still not getting a sight of you.

it’s nearing eclipse when they reach the old shack, a place his father always warned them to stay away from. his hold on his bow tightens at the realization: you aren’t here, which means you’re somewhere farther and more dangerous.

“how certain are you that she could have gone this far along?” lo’ak asks.

neteyam has no idea. his brother’s question was so stupid it made him want to lay a punch on his face.

something snaps and ruffles. the party stills. the chief raises a hand before readying his bow, aiming in the direction of the noise. the sound of leaves crunching grows closer until the bushes spit out… you.

the party simultaneously releases a big, heaving sigh of relief. neteyam almost drops down to his knees. instead, he drops his bow, surging forward and immediately cupping your face in his hands. the group slowly walks back to give you both some privacy.

“where have you been?” his question comes out much harsher than he intended. your ears fall back in your hair and it’s then he notices you’re dripping wet. your braids are drenched and rivulets of water are still caught in your skin. one slides down your temple and into his thumbs.

“what—?”

“i’m sorry, ‘teyam, i fell asleep.” your admission has him further confused.

“fell asleep?”

you nod, unable to meet his eyes. he feels you grip his arms, fingers cold against his skin.

“in the pond…”

he has so much questions but decides it can wait at home. he needs to get you warmed up fast. your company makes it back to the village just as the people are setting up the bonfire. neteyam excuses you both, heading to your shared shut.

he is quiet as he gingerly gestures for you to undress, fetching you a new top and loincloth. he helps you put them on, warm fingers leaving behind goosebumps on their wake. he then takes both of your blankets and drapes it over your shoulders.

“are you mad?” you ask meekly. it almost breaks his heart.

“i am not mad, tìyawn.” he cups your face again and your eyes flutter closed, melting into his touch. “could never be mad at you.”

“why aren’t you saying anything then?”

neteyam tries to say it, tries to articulate his thoughts. his worry, his fear. he thought of the worst things that could have happened to you. what if they weren’t able to find you? the idea alone makes his stomach curdle.

two weeks ago, you were nearly unconscious in the laboratory. and now, this?

sensing his distress, you make your way over and climb in his lap. it’s a little awkward with the blankets weighing you down but you manage to settle just right, sighing happily at the warmth emanating from neteyam’s body.

you hook your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck. his body relaxes under your touch.

your palm takes its time feeling every ridge of muscle on his back. you absentmindedly rub circles on his skin while the other caresses the back of his head.

“i am sorry for making you worry.”

lately, it seems all you do is make neteyam worry. aside from his duty to the clan, he has to deal with you on the side. the guilt makes your stomach turn.

“some kids were running,” you start explaining. “i followed them to the forest. there were these helicoradian plants and i got distracted… and then i walked some more until i got to the pond.”

“where you fell asleep?”

you nod against his shoulder. neteyam sighs.

“you were gone all day.”

“i know, my love. i must have worried you to death,” you laugh lightly. when neteyam doesn’t say anything, you try to pull him closer; to etch your apology on your skin to his. your love has never been good at expressing himself but you know him like that back of your hand.

when his arms around you tightens in answer and a delicate kiss is placed on the side of your neck, you know you’re forgiven.

[avesque]

under the streetlight | eddie munson

fluff, alcohol intoxication. 0.8k words.

the cold winds nip at your face immediately when you push open the door of the hideout with eddie nearly slumped over your body. the sounds inside the pub slowly drifts off as you drag him across the street to where his van is parked.

“honey, i need you to cooperate,” you chide lightly when he plants his feet in the concrete. it’s a good thing the roads are deserted.

eddie slurs something unintelligible, head lolling on your shoulder. you feel his arm tighten around your shoulder before he steps around you, wrapping his other arm on you and nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

you shiver at the feel of his breath on your skin.

“eddie, we’re in the middle of the street.” you gaze longingly at his van a few feet away. “come on, just a little more and then you can rest, okay?”

eddie grunts again. his hold on you tightens.

you release a dejected yet fond sigh, embracing him too and rubbing your palms down his back. his alcohol tolerance is pretty high but a few shots gets him clingier than usual.

“you okay there?” you murmur. his hair is tickling your face so you smooth it down. eddie nods, still hiding in your neck.

“you wanna move now?” he grunts. “we’ll stay here a little more?” he nods again.

you stand there in the middle of the street, arms around each other. the only source of light is the distant florescents of the pub and the lamppost ahead of you, bathing you both in an incandescent glow.

eddie shifts. he pulls away though his arms stay around you. his brown eyes are hooded, a little droopy. you give him a puzzled look as he continues to stare at you.

“m’gonna marry you someday,” he says, slurring over his words. your heart jumps at his confession. you’ve been together for nearly 2 years but the prospect of getting married never really came up. until right now.

“someday?” you parrot quietly.

“mhm.” his hands move up from your waist to your arms, then your neck, gently cupping your jaw. his touch is soft, thumbs running back and forth against your skin. “someday,” he promises.

he leans down then and you think he’d kiss you but eddie’s lips are on your forehead. he moves down, warm against your cheek, and stays there, his cheek against your temple. his fingers gingerly crawl down your arms before he’s twining his right hand with your left. he’s so tender it almost makes you want to cry.

it starts as a quiet rumble in his chest before you realize what it really was. he’s humming to the tune of berlin’s take my breath away. and before you know it, he’s slowly swaying you side by side.

“eddie?” you ask, laced with laughter, though you follow his lead.

“s’your favorite song, right?” he murmurs.

it is. if your little walkman can talk, you’re a hundred percent sure it would have complained three weeks ago about your constant replays of that song.

“watching every motion in my foolish lover’s game.”

oh, your heart might burst right here, right now. eddie’s voice is rough, a little scratchy. deeper than his usual tone.

it’s perfect.

you close your eyes, feeling the warmth creep in your eyes, unshed tears pooling behind your eyelids. you don’t know why you’re crying, can’t put your finger to a certain reason why, but you know it has something to do with the way he’s holding you in the middle of a deserted street, quiet and alone and he’s so soft on you, so tender, so loving. you fear you won’t get the same treatment from other people and that was okay because eddie would. eddie will.

“watching in slow motion as you turn around and say.” and he’s pulling away, raising your clasped hands above your head and you spin, a watery laugh bubbling out of you. eddie tugs you back toward him, still spinning.

“take my breath away,” he croons just as you your back hits his chest and his arms are around you again.

it feels nice. you can stay right here forever, perfectly content and happy your heart almost sings along with him.

back and forth, back and forth you go, your head resting on his chest. you feel him duck down and place a kiss on the top of your head. you tilt your head back up at him and he’s looking down at you.

“gonna dance like this too on our wedding?” you ask, half joking.

“every day for the rest of our lives.”

it’s a promise.

[avesque]

down the aisle | eddie munson

— grocery shopping with eddie

INCLUDES just fluff

NOTES domestic shit with eddie : (

a grocery list is a necessity because this man just puts whatever catches his eyes into your cart

“...is this a whole bag of mentos?”

“huh? oh — wow, how did that get there?”

you’re the one strolling through the aisle while he’s the one pushing the cart, hunched over with his arms resting on the handle, lazily following you

if you take too long choosing between two different brands of the same product, he’d definitely kick the items on the lowest shelf because you’re taking too long

“babe, they’re literally just bread.”

“they’re different, eddie.”

“they’d taste the same.”

“GOD okay we’ll buy both and you get this — this less better one.”

will steal sneak a few grapes and throw it at you

scrunches his nose whenever you guys are in the fresh meat section

he once almost got snipped by a fresh crab

makes fun of you when you can’t reach items at the top of the shelves

“eddie, can you get this for me, babe?”

pretends he doesn’t hear you and continues to push the cart

you’d huff and oh, is that steve at the opposite end of the aisle?

“hey steve! hi! would you mind getting this for me?”

he’s backtracking and reaching over your head even before you finish your sentence

glares at you as he hands you whatever it is

“thank you, pretty boy.” with a fond tap to his cheek

will literally melt and look at you with hearts in his eyes

if you’re up for it, on any other day, he’ll have you sit inside the cart while he pushes you

will 100% push the cart and let go, letting you zoom past cereal boxes

once, he wasn’t able to catch up to you in time and you ended up hurtling through a stack of canned condensed milk

you guys paid for the damaged products and got told off by the manager

how embarrassing

he would also always try to get, like, a lil sneaky with you

like if you’re at the end of the store or if there are unpacked boxes stacked high up, he’d usher you behind them so he can kiss you

hands in your hair, on your hips, over your arms, cradling your face

and he’d take his sweet, sweet time kissing you too as if you have all the time in the world

you have definitely been caught

by the manager, no less

imagine the disbelief on her face when she rounds a corner and there you guys are, the couple who destroyed a stack of canned condensed milk, doing some funny business inside her store

eddie would laugh it off and tug you away but you are horrified beyond words

you can never look that manager in the eyes since then

[avesque]

the greatest love of all time | eddie munson

one (1) st4 v2 spoiler, fem!reader. 0.7k words.

“eddie!”

he’s never seen anything quite like this before. he always knew you’d look best in a white dress with a bouquet in hand and a veil over your head. eddie always knew. he’s dreamt of it to the point of tears.

“hey—” sweetheart. he almost staggers backwards when you nearly jump into his arms. you’re still warm, still soft. you fit perfectly in his embrace.

you smell sweet. like vanilla. definitely vanilla. funny, he’s never thought of how you would smell during your wedding day. all he’d seen was the image of you walking down the aisle, to him, and everything else bled into the background.

his hair is shorter now. still wild though a lot more tamed than back in high school. the ends kiss his nape. your gloved hands are caressing his nape, he realizes belatedly. a small, fond gesture it seemed you’ve never outgrown.

“you look beautiful.”

your smile is blinding as you step back, tucking an invisible curl behind your ear. there are no misplaced strands in your updo. you’re perfect.

“thank you,” you say bashfully. you stare at him and he stares back. you don’t blink; he doesn’t, too. he likes to think the burning sensation behind his eyes are caused by your impromptu staring contest.

the silence borders in awkward. steve breaks it.

“hey man.”

eddie clasps his hands and bumps shoulders with him. “congratulations.”

he feels like an acid geyser just set off inside his stomach. it’s sick. it should be the other way around. it should be steve congratulating him (and you). it should have been him waiting for you at the altar instead of sitting on the pews, watching you walk past him. he should be standing there beside you right now, like he should have all those years ago.

before he got scared. before he ran. but he didn’t run this time and maybe it took more than a few, long days of persuasion from dustin, but he finally opened the invitation you gave him.

save the date, it read. y/n y/l/n and steve harrington request the honor of your presence on their wedding.

the dread was so heavy it almost made eddie throw up. it was the promise of his cowardice; in exchange of the one he broke.

he used to always tell you he’s going to love you forever. that was true. up to this day, even as mrs. harrington, eddie’s heart is still wholly and irrevocably yours. but he also used to tell you he’d never leave you, and you used to tell him you’d never leave him; that it was you both against the world. y/n and eddie. eddie and y/n.

but the murders happened and every arrow seemed to point to eddie.

and anything that leads to eddie leads to you.

so he ran. he remembers you saying, “you’re the best at loving me.” clearly, you haven’t seen him run from his problems.

but he did it all to protect you. to prove you are innocent. to prove that you had nothing to do with him; and at that point in time, you didn’t.

his one last act of bravery is being here. seeing you loop your arm around steve’s, leaning your face fondly against his arm… eddie almost wished he didn’t come here.

but he sits at the table with the kids that aren’t kids anymore. they each have their own partners that attended the wedding with them. eddie’s the only one who brought just himself.

he watches you and steve sway in the middle of the dance floor, arms around each other. there’s a hollow feeling in eddie, a shudder running through his skin like he’s remembering what it was like to be that close to you.

eddie succumbs to one last act of cowardice. this is for the best. for you and steve, for him. this place is too full of you, holds too much of the greatest love eddie has and will ever know.

his car speeds across the highway, zooming past the leaving hawkins sign. one last shot of doing what he’s best at: running.