D20s & Demobats (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Chapter 1

Sunlight streamed through the window cascading over half-packed boxes trailing toward your desk where you sit chatting with your online penpal. You had only been chatting with him for a couple months, so the things you knew about him were pretty sparse. Just that he had worked in an ice cream shop over the summer after graduating because his father wanted him to have "real world experience" and that he is a real ladies man, or at least he claims to be.

SteveTheHair85: So how long will it be until I hear from you again?

(Y/N)66: Just a couple days, maybe three. Why, are you going to miss me?

SteveTheHair85: You wish, I'm only wondering how many days of peace I'm going to have before you're back to obsessing over me.

(Y/N)66: Oh is that what you call me telling you you're a loser?

SteveTheHair85: That's not what you were saying yesterday. From what I recall you were all "Oh Steve I'm going to miss talking to you. You're so amazing and my only friend. I'm going to be so lonely until I get to talk to you again"

(Y/N)66: Yeah whatever. I need to get off of here anyways and now seems like a perfect time to log off. I gotta go make sure my transfer went over to my new school.

SteveTheHair85: Okay then, you better message me as soon as you get settled in wherever you're going.

(Y/N)66: Trust me it'll be the first thing I do.

You log off the chat room pushing yourself away from the desk and standing up, taking in your partially packed away room. Heaving a long sigh, you picked up your bag and roller skates before heading out of your room.

Stepping into the kitchen to grab a couple granola bars, you celebrate your small victory of getting the last ones that were chocolate chip before shoving one into your pocket while opening the other and heading for the door.

The hot sun beats down on your little suburban neighborhood as you revel in the fact that this will be the last time you have to see this place again. No more "polite" invites to barbecues you could care less about with people you could care for even lesser. No more stuck up privileged kids and their scrutinizing looks. Just a new start in a new place. Smaller, quieter, exactly what you needed.

As you continue to picture how much better things will be, you sit down on the steps of your house finishing up your granola bar, and swapping your busted up doc martens for your roller skates.

Finally ready to head out, you retrieve your Walkman and a pair of sunglasses from your bag. Fixing the flimsy headphones onto your head then putting on your sunglasses, you click the play button letting your well-loved mixtape play.

The opening riff of 'Rock You Like A Hurricane' began as you stood, straightening out your Metallica shirt and denim cutoffs, brushing any stray granola crumbs that could have fallen onto them.

Your school wasn't too far from where you lived, so the trip there went by pretty fast. As it usually did since this was your normal way of transportation there and back. Rolling up to the school you take it in one last time, Lenora Hills High School. A cesspool of truly the worst people you've ever seen. The only reason you got by mostly bully-free was due to the fact you never gave them a reaction, which threw them off of bothering you other than the occasional insult thrown your way.

You find a bench in the currently empty courtyard to switch back into regular shoes as well as put away your Walkman and roller skates, flipping your shades where your headphones used to rest atop your head. After doing so you venture into the building arriving at the office. The Secretary at the front continuing to type away at her computer as if she didn't hear you enter.