#if she decides to run a full campaign after this i'm going to unleash full asra energy on her with celeste

[warlordfelwinter]

playing the dnd starter kit adventure so my friend can try dm’ing for the first time (she’s doing AMAZING, i can’t wait to be extremely annoying with celeste in a full campaign) and the only problem is i’m the only one who has listened to taz and the starter kit is at least the beginning of here there be gerblins and she described gundren and [checks notes] sildar walking in to the tavern and it took everything in my power not to shout “BARRY!!!”

[eddie-van-munson]

Love, Hate, and Judas Priest (Eddie Munson x Reader)

***********

Requested by: @bobcatbaker @they-ignoreme (Requests for a Reader that acts just like Eddie, and Something Inspired by 'Ten Things I Hate About You'.)

Summary: A classic Enemies to Lovers fic. Eddie Munson has hated you ever since you strolled into Hellfire wearing the same Judas Priest shirt as him. But there's a thin line between love and hate.

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers (Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Angst, Pettiness), Cursing, Spicy Kisses, Fluff, She/Her pronouns. I think that's it??

(Requests are open but the waitlist is long!)

***********

Eddie Munson did not like you.

He knew that from the moment he laid eyes on you. No. Before that, even. He knew it from the moment Dustin had started gushing to him about you.

He was far too excited, vomiting information at him like there was going to be a quiz. "She's just moved to Hawkins from New York, dude. It's her second time doing Senior Year."

Eddie bristled. Flunking senior year was his thing.

"I'm telling you, she's wicked. She knows everything about DnD and she likes metal! You should've heard her talking about the last campaign she ran with her party in New York!" Eddie clenched his jaw a little, quickly realizing how dead set Dustin was on you joining the party. "You've got to meet her. It's like you're the same person! It's crazy! You're gonna love her, man."

Eddie decided right then and there that the two of you were, in fact, nothing alike.

Hellfire that night only cemented his opinions.

"Henderson!" Eddie called from his throne, dramatically. "You are tired. You are injured... You have but one night before an attack is unleashed on your lands. What say ye?"

Dustin nodded solemnly, contemplating his depleted health, "I take a long rest." He crosses his arms decidedly over his chest.

Eddie hummed in agreement, looking back at his book. "Wise choice, Sir Nog-"

"Actually, he can't do that." Mike cut in from across the table. "A long rest lasts twenty-four hours. He won't recuperate and regain spent abilities until a full day has passed."

Eddie frowned, "Who the hell decided that?"

"...The rules?" Mike shrugged, scratching his neck awkwardly. "Y/N says that-"

"Y/N?" He felt a flash of anger, annoyance churning his stomach. "And since when do I give a shit what Y/N says?"

Mike blanched, stuttering.

"Tell me Wheeler, what does your shirt say?"

He sighed, "Hellfire."

Eddie hummed in mock surprise, "Hellfire! And who's king of Hellfire, remind me? Who's Dungeon Master?"

Mike went quiet, crooking an eyebrow, "You?"

"Me. Not Y/N." He crossed his legs over the arm of his throne, "If she has something to say about how I play, she can take it up with me."

Who does she think she is? He ranted to himself in his head as he gathered his things after club. Showing up from god knows where and telling him how to run his own goddamn club. Poisoning his little freshmen sheep.

Mike relayed the whole thing to you in study hall the next day. "I didn't realize he'd flip out!" He laughed at the thought. "Like, shit!"

Dustin dragged you with him to the drama room the next week, your book in tow.

The moment Eddie saw you, he opened his mouth to argue with Dustin. You beat him to it, "What the fuck, Henderson?"

Eddie scoffed. That's what he called Dustin.

This detail, however, was easily the least of the concerns swimming in his head as he looked you up and down. You were wearing the same Judas Priest shirt as him. The exact same one. 

Eddie swung a leg over the arm of his throne, staring you down, "Who is this?"

He knew exactly who the fuck you were.

Dustin sighed, realizing neither of you were going to make this easy on him. "Eddie, this is Y/N. She's joining Hellfire."

You both whip around to look at Dustin, speaking in Unison, "And who the hell decided that?"

Eddie scowled, looking over at you. Your gaze shot daggers at him. Embarrassing.

Dustin held back a smile. Jesus, you both were to stubborn for your own good. Only Eddie Munson would find a way to not like someone who was exactly like him. Dustin soldiered on, "She knows a shit ton about DnD, dude. She'd make a great member in our party."

Eddie hummed smugly, sarcasm dripping from his tone, "Mhm. Yeah. Ok."

You clenched your jaw at his sarcasm as he stood, sliding one of his thick game books down the table to you.

"Do me a favor. Crack that open and come back when you know the difference between an elf and a tiefling, princess."

Dustin opened his mouth to scold him, but he didn't get a chance to. Wordlessly, you pulled off your backpack and unzipped it, pulling out a well-loved copy of the same book. You slammed it down on top of Eddie's with a smug smile, "Your edition is out of date. I'd think about an upgrade."

He glared at you from the head of the table. Yeah. You knew what kind of guy this was. You were all too familiar with this brand of douche bag. You hadn't even wanted to join his stupid ass club, but now? Now you wanted to join just to piss him off.

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed. You rolled your eyes, turning your back to him without a word, and march off, confidently.

"See you next Wednesday, Freddie."

***********

Things got better. You and Eddie tolerated each other. Sometimes.

In the beginning, it was all out war all the time. By your third club meeting, Dustin was already having to hold an intervention.

"You're acting like fifth graders, guys. You're supposed to be the grown ups!"

"I'll start acting like a grown up when she stops-"

"Eddie!" Dustin cut him off, shooting him a look. The Freshman sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'm not asking you two to be nice to each other. I'm not even asking you to talk anything out. I'm just asking for mutual respect."

Neither you or Eddie looked at Dustin, just glared at each other. You crossed your arms. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"You know exactly what that means." Dustin took a deep breath. He turned back towards the throne. "Eddie, Y/N knows her shit. She's a good player. You can at least admit that."

Eddie was silent. Dustin turned to you.

"Y/N, Eddie's a damn good Dungeon Master. He writes awesome campaigns. You know that's the truth."

You went quiet.

"You both have traits that the other can respect. So stop acting like children and be good sports, ok?"

You and Eddie nodded.

Dustin sighed in relief, "Now shake hands."

You made it to a point of good natured mutual-dislike. Sure, you still teased one another mercilessly and argued about stupid shit, but there was respect. A silent agreement that ok...maybe you didn't actually mean everything you said.

Today was different though. Eddie wasn't putting up with shit today.

He'd woken up with a splitting head ache, already fifteen minutes late to his first period. The van broke down on the way to school, and he'd had to put up with bullshit from his teachers and Jason Carver all day. His head still hurt, and on top of all that? Wayne had just taken a pay cut.

You got to the drama room a few minutes after he did. He nodded, acknowledging you, and you watched for a minute as he stiffly laid out fresh character sheets over the table. Something was wrong. Damnit.

You debated whether you should say anything, scratching your neck awkwardly. Finally, you spoke, your voice sounding too loud in the silence of the room. "Are you ok?"

He paused, looking at you, and both of you were quiet for a moment. He cleared his throat, "Yeah. Just...you know. Headache."

You hummed, nodding, and pulled your book from your bag. There was another long silence. "Do you want some Tylenol?"

He turned to you again, looking confused. Surprised, even. "What?"

You played with the hem of your pants, pointing at the door to the drama room. "I just...I keep Tylenol in my locker for cramps. I thought maybe...if you were hurting or something-"

Something in him bristled, "Can you just leave me alone?"

You froze, looking hurt. Eddie's chest ached, now along with his head, guilt bubbling in him. He swallowed thickly, "Look, I-"

"Just, forget it." You snapped.

He opened his mouth to say something. To apologize. But the door to the drama room swung open.

"Eddie!" You both jumped as Lucas ran in, trailed by the other boys. "I won! I made the winning shot!"

His expression immediately brightened, "Holy shit, Sinclair! Are you serious!?"

The room erupted, each club member bouncing off the walls with excitement as they tried to recount the glorious details of the game all at once. You sat at the table, smiling weakly. As proud as you were of Lucas, you didn't feel like celebrating.

You took a deep breath as The Sheep finally settled at the table, pulling their game pieces from their backpacks and finding pencils.

Eddie cleared his throat, ignoring the pain in his skull as he read. "Sir Nog..."

Dustin looked up, his eyes going wide.

"When we left you last week, you were headed for the desert, fleeing an army of Drows. You casted 'Find Greater Steed' and summoned a Griffin to carry you far from the enemy. When your 'steed' grew tired, you stopped for the night a top a large hill and took a long rest to regain your strength."

 Dustin nodded, recounting his last turn from the week before.

"But now, Sir Nog..." Eddie's tired face cracked with mischief. "You've awoken. It's been twenty four hours, and the army of Drows has caught up to you."

Dustin groaned, covering his eyes. The other boys shouted advice.

Eddie laughed softly at their enthusiasm, ignoring the throbbing of his head, and  continued. "You can hear them around you, yelling to one another, but they can't see you yet. You were smart enough to hide yourself and your steed in a desert cave for the night."

Dustin sighed in relief.

"You aren't out of the woods yet though, Henderson. You don't have much of a stealth bonus...Would you like to attack or stay hidden?"

Dustin thought, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Stay hidden."

Eddie smiled, "Alright. Roll the twenty for me."

Dustin steadied himself, cracking his knuckles as he plucked the die from his collection. He shook it, blowing on it for good luck, and let it tumble across the table. The room held its breath as it came to a stop. 13.

The boys looked to Eddie, expectantly, crossing their fingers. Eddie raised his brows. "It's not enough. They see you."

Dustin hit his fist on the table as the group groaned. "Shit."

You swallowed thickly, "That's not right."

A silence. Eddie clenched his jaw. "What?"

"I said, you're wrong. That is enough."

He shook his head, trying to keep his cool. "It's not. His stealth is too low. There's not enough of a bonus."

You stood your ground, "Drows are at a disadvantage in the sunlight. When subterranean species are on land, they lose Optical Aucity unless they have shaded goggles. I don't remember you mentioning any goggles."

Eddie groaned, "Are you fucking serious?"

"I'm trying to help the kid, Munson. What, do you want him to lose? It's in the damn book. You should have read it."

"I did read it! I've read it a million times. Why do you rake me over the coals over every-"

"Because you're an asshole! You treat me like I'm stupid!"

Eddie snapped, "Then why the hell do you come? Why do you come every goddamn week if you hate it so much, huh? Just stop! Stop coming! Because you're ruining it for all of us!"

You could've heard a pin drop in the drama room.

 It hurt. It really hurt. You would have preferred it if he'd punched you in the stomach. You weren't sure why it hurt so much.

That was lie. You did know why. It was because deep down, you liked Eddie. You'd grown to like him a lot.

You liked it when he teased you and you teased him, both of you knowing it didn't mean anything. You liked it when he'd congratulate you for beating his campaigns, even though it drove him crazy to do it. You liked that you lived in the same trailer park, and he'd drive you home from Hellfire if you asked. He'd always put on your favorite Iron Maiden tape, too, just because he knew you liked it. You liked Eddie. For as much as you shouted the opposite from the rooftops, you really really liked him. He knew you did. And you'd thought he liked you too.

There was immediate regret in his eyes the moment he said it. He felt sick when he saw the look on your face, but the damage was done. You couldn't even look at the other boys. Your throat tightened, and you fought the tears welling in your eyes.

"Fuck you, Eddie Munson."

You grabbed your book from the table and marched out the door. He started towards you, but his head spun a little when he stood up too fast. You ignored him when he called after you, slamming the front doors of the building and making your way to the parking lot.

Eddie cursed under his breath, trying to steady his dizzy, aching head. "Shit...shit. Goddamn it." He tugged at his own curls, angry with himself. His eyes and nose were red when he finally turned to the club. His voice was hoarse, "You guys go on home, ok? I'll find her. I'm gonna talk to her. Just...we'll pick up next week."

***********

Eddie stood awkwardly at your front door for a little bit before he finally mustered the courage to knock. He didn't hear anything, and he'd begun to think you hadn't made it home yet when you opened the door.

You slammed it shut in his face the moment you saw who it was, locking it.

Eddie sighed, guilt swimming in his belly. There'd been two obvious mascara tracks running down your cheeks. "Oh, Come on, Y/N. I just want to talk."

Your voice was hoarse when you yelled back, "I don't have anything to say to you."

"Well, I have something to say to you!"

"Well I don't fucking care!"

"Y/N!...Damn it!" He groaned, thumping his fist on the door in annoyance. "Goddamnit, Y/N, why do you act like this? You drive me fucking crazy! You know that?"

"Good!" You yelled, biting back a sob. You leaned your back against the door, sinking down to sit with your knees pulled to your chest.

"Christ, You're go damn headstrong, Y/N! You won't ever let shit go! You never stop when you should. You just push and push. You're so fucking irritating."

Anger burned in your chest as you listened. What, you ran off crying and he sought you out to berate you some more?

You could hear him panting. He rested his forehead against the door. "I don't get you. I don't. Because you do all this...you talk so much shit and act like you rule the fucking world and the boys eat it up every time. They absolutely love it and I do too."

You caught on his words, your brow furrowing with confusion.

"I do too, Y/N."

You went silent, trying to make sense of whatever the hell was happening. Again, he spoke. His words were soft this time. Croaky and tired. Like he'd given into it.

"I...I do too. I really do." He swallowed. "That's what drives me batshit crazy. I can't get enough of you. I can't get you out of my stupid head."

 He could feel your presence, almost. Sitting on the other side of that door. He wanted to step through it and hold you. Tell you he was sorry.

His voice broke, "I've wanted you from the moment I saw you in that stupid fucking Judas Priest shirt. I wanted you so bad. And it scared me. It scared the shit out of me. It still does. Because I still want you."

He turned his back to the door and leaned against it, sliding down to sit, as well.

"I guess in the beginning I felt like it was easier to reject you before you could reject me and that is such an asshole move. I know it is and I'm sorry. I'm just terrified of you, Y/N." He gave a humorless laugh, burying his face in his hands.  "You're perfect. You're literally perfect. You know that right?

Eddie had almost forgot you were listening. There was a long silence. He'd been about to stand up and walk away. To leave you alone like you probably wanted him to. But he heard you turn the deadbolt.

He stood as you opened the door, feeling like his heart was going to fall out of his chest. There you were, eyes red and glossy. You looked so small there. What remained of your mascara was running down your flushed cheeks, staining the collar of your pajama shirt. You were pitiful, and god his whole body ached in knowing he'd made you cry. He wanted to gather you up in his arms.

You stared up at him. "Get inside, Eds. It's cold."

*********

He was taller than you remembered. You noticed this now as he stood in the middle of your bedroom. Eddie stared at you awkwardly, looking around your room as you paced. You were still unsure of what exactly you were going to do with him.

He watched you as you rubbed the bridge of your nose, your cheeks flushed with anger. You muttered something to yourself.

Eddie finally cut in, "Just yell at me."

You froze, turning to him. "What?"

"Just yell at me." He crossed his arms casually, brows raised. "I deserve it! Get it all out!"

You bit your lip.

He could tell you were tempted. "I'll start if you want." You crooked your brow. Eddie shrugged, walking over to the mirror on your wall. He stared at his reflection, and you flinched a little when he yelled, poking his finger against the mirror accusatorily, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Your eyes went big as you watched him. He yelled again.

"You're a piece of shit! That's what you are! And you should've just accepted the Tylenol! Why'd you have to be an asshole about it, huh?"

He turned to you, his grin spreading at the sight of a tiny smile on your face. "Your turn."

You pursed your lips, wracking your brain. Finally, you threw something at him, still sounding unsure. "You...You're a son of a bitch, Eddie Munson!"

He jumped excitedly, beaming, "Hell yeah I am! C'mon!"

You hesitated, "You're arrogant! And you...You act like you know everything!"

"That's right! Let me have it!"

You laughed, furrowing your brow and giving him a shove as you jumped up onto your bed. You were taller than him, now. "You...I...How dare you?!"

"How dare I?!" He threw up his hands, exasperatedly.

"You're obnoxious! And entitled! How dare you embarrass me in front them like that! And then you show up here with your pretty brown eyes and tell me you love me? What is wrong with you?"

He was beaming now as he took your hands. "Sweetheart..." His voice went softer. Fond. "I've been asking myself the same question for years."

You dropped to your knees on the mattress, making yourself the perfect height to pull him into a hug. He went stiff, surprised. Oh. Oh. You were hugging him.

His fingertips laced in your hair as he held you right back. Tightly. He exhaled, letting himself relax into you as he gave an amazed laugh.

You pulled back, searching out those big brown eyes. "What is it?"

His face was split with a blinding smile, "I've just...I've never gotten to hug you, before."

God he was beautiful. He looked at you with the most starry eyes, the tip of his nose bumping yours. You brought a hand up to cradle his face, grazing your thumb over one of his dimples. His expression faded, and you were almost sure you saw him glance down at your lips for a moment.

"Eds..." You swallowed thickly, letting yourself admire his pretty mouth just as he had yours. "You are so fucking irritating."

He laughed loudly, but the sweet sound was muffled as you pulled him into a kiss. It was chaste, as was grinning against you, but the moment you knit your fingers through his curls he groaned softly, pulling your body close against his. His kisses were desperate and messy. God, he'd been wanting this for months. Wanting you for months.

Ever since he'd laid eyes on that stupid fucking Judas Priest shirt.

***********

Tensions were high the next week at Hellfire.

You were late, and the boys were sure things had gone to shit. Worst case scenarios crowded their heads all week. What if you and Eddie had gotten into a literal fist fight? What if you were plotting wicked, vile revenge as they spoke? And worst of all...What if you quit Hellfire?

Eddie had been non-descript with Dustin all week, answering his two hundred questions with useless things like, "It went fine."

You were no better, only offering eye rolls and "Stop worrying about it, Henderson."

The boys toyed with their figurines and pencils as they waited nervously. Club had started six minutes ago and still, you were no where to be seen. The room was quiet, the only sound being the nervous whispers between Freshmen. Finally, the drama room door opened, and you strolled in. The room sighed a silent sigh of relief.

You tossed your backpack to the side, pulling a chair out from the table next to Eddie, "Sorry I'm late."

" 's ok." He smiled at you, fondly.

This in itself was an anomaly. Eddie? Neglecting a chance to tease you about something?

Any thoughts of this being odd were quickly forgotten, though, when you pecked his lips quickly and mussed his hair, taking your seat at the table. You quietly searched out your character sheet from your bag, as if you hadn't just done something so out of character that it was making five teenage boys question their sanity.

They were frozen, jaws dropped, as if Luke Skywalker himself had just walked through the drama room door.

Eddie cleared his throat, "Sir Nog! It's come to my attention that due to the ocular disadvantage working against the army of Drows, they are, in fact, unable to see you in the desert cave."

***********

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