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children-of-the-grave · 18 days ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XXVI: Heartbeat's At Its Peak

songs for this chapter: movement by hozier, you probably couldn't see for the lights but you were staring straight at me by arctic monkeys, cherry thrill by movements, tear you apart by she wants revenge

chapter tags: angst– but in retrospect so it’s ok, emotional intimacy, physical intimacy, mentions of depression and some suicidal ideation, hurt/comfort, anxiety around being emotionally vulnerable. reader has breasts but no mentions of size/shape/skin color. | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | REMINDER: THIS FIC IS RATED EXPLICIT. 18+ mdni.

a/n: ahem. I present to you… the chapter ive all been waiting for. this might be THE magnum opus of chapters ive ever written actually but i dont wanna get ahead of myself. anyway i had a lot of fun and im so sorry for the wait pls enjoy love u mean it xo

taglist @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r @justalotoffanfiction @bl0ssomanddie @eddiesgirl1944 @longlivedelusion @aliensfeltmyjoy @kissmyacdc @love-anonymous-writer

DO NOT READ BEYOND CAPS IF U DO NOT WANT SPOILERS! SMUT! MDNI

LAST WARNING!

oral (m!receiving), unprotected p in v (bee is responsible tho dw), praise, sliiiiight degradation if u squint, dirty talk, mean!eddie for like .5 seconds, slight dumbification of reader idk she’s horny! lots of pining and yearning and desperate fucking because duh what’s a slow burn without a massive emotional and physical pay off ENJOY! please let me know if i missed any important tags i never know if i get them all tbh.

—

Your corolla idles in the parking lot of Eddie’s apartment building, headlights illuminating the concrete stretched out in front of you. You throw the car in park and turn to your passenger.

“You really thought I was seeing Jason?” You tease, keeping your tone light.

“I- I don’t know. I don’t think so. It just,” He struggles to get the words out. “It made sense in my head when I heard it. He’s the kind of guy you probably should be with.” It breaks your heart to hear him say those words. Even though he means well, the thought of being with someone that made Eddie’s life miserable makes your skin crawl. The worst part though, is that Eddie feels it would make sense.

On what fucking planet?

“You think I should be with someone who peaked in high school? Someone that made my best friend’s life miserable?”

He sighs. You’re not getting it, apparently. “No, ‘course not. You should be with someone that can give you everything you deserve. Someone your parents would be proud to see you with.” It’s killing him to say this, but you’re not sure he’s even buying the bullshit. However, you indulge the conversation against your better judgment.

“Okay, let’s say for argument’s sake that I want any of that. First of all, both of my parents already figured I’d end up with you. My mom told me as much tonight. Secondly, I am so not that shallow! I don’t care about money, public image, or what the fuckin’ Home Owners Association and PTA will think of me for being with you.” You hope it’s not too much, because nothing is going to stop the word vomit now. “Believe it or not, Eddie, it has always been you. I tried to move on when Chris swiped you from me and I couldn’t. Even when you left the state, I thought about you all the time. It kills me to think you don’t get that.”

“Can I ask you why you wanted to hide me, then?” His words are barely audible over the sound of your ancient engine running. It’s a good question, you can’t blame him for asking it, but it makes your heart ache all the same.

“I hate when I’m wrong, I know you know that. I wasn’t ready to accept the fact that our friends, in all their teasing, had known my feelings for you before I even did. I didn’t wanna hear them gloat.”

“So it was a pride thing, and not because you were ashamed to even say the words out loud?”

You nod feverishly as his words settle into your skull. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair to ask you to keep us from them, and from everyone for that matter. I was just so fucking scared it wouldn’t work out, like I’d fuck it all up again. I don’t think I could handle their pity a second time.”

“What the hell are you talking about, again? I know I’ve smoked too much weed in my lifetime, but last I can recall, I was the one to fuck it up last time.”

You scoff a humorless laugh. “Sure, but I could have reached out, too. I spent my time being so fucking mad at you for nothing, I could have spent that time trying to fix, y’know,” You gesture vaguely between yourself and him, averting your eyes from his big, sad ones. “It sucks that we lost so much time.”

You see him nod in your peripheral vision. “Yeah, it really fuckin’ does. I'd prefer not to waste any more.” Snapping your head, you look back just in time to catch the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Now, I know I asked you already, but do you wanna stay the night?”

You’re nodding before he gets the question out, cutting the ignition. The world around you quiets, leaving you and Eddie smothered completely in darkness. He shoves himself from your passenger seat, hurrying to your side to open the door for you.

Through your giggles, you manage a“Thank you, kindly.” as you hook your arm through his own, walking in step to the building’s front doors.

–

“There’s beer in the fridge if y’want.” Eddie tosses his keys onto the counter as he points towards the kitchen. “You can shower, plenty of stuff under the sink in the bathroom. Fresh towels in the hall closet, blah blah, you’ve been here before.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s nervous, hands shaking as he pulls the magnet cluttered fridge door open to grab two bottles, sliding one to you after popping the cap.

“Thanks.” You pause, staring him up and down. He's still shiny with sweat from performing, but he’s been sitting in it for at least a couple hours. You find yourself buzzing with left over adrenaline, eager to see how far you can bend him before he snaps. “You wanna join me? You must be freezing by now.” You keep your tone even, low enough he could pretend not to hear you if he needs to.

Instead, Eddie sputters, beer spraying from his lips as he coughs, face turning pink, then red. You rush to his side, slamming your hand hard between his shoulder blades.

“Arms up!” He obliges, raising his arms over his head, clasping his hands behind his head. Finally, the coughing slows, then ceases. “Christ, if I had known that was gonna be your reaction I would've waited for you to swallow!” You bite back your laughter as he groans, eyes rolling as he turns his back to you.

“You have to know the effect you have on me by now, sweetheart.” He patronizes before taking another, much smaller sip of his drink. “An’ you’re sayin’ shit like that?” His speech slurs, but he doesn’t waver. You wonder offhandedly how many he’s had tonight. “ M’mind’s goin’ crazy thinkin’about the possibility I’ll get to kiss you again ‘nd you’re askin’ me to shower with you!” Eddie gulps down more of his beer, and you sip on your own, hiding your growing smile behind the glass. “Answer’s obviously yeah, by the way.”

His bluntness sends you into a fit of laughter, snorting through your nose as you try to catch your breath. The sound of Eddie’s cackle joins the sounds of your own, and the two of you can’t seem to compose yourselves with several minutes, renewing the unstoppable force each time one of you catches the other’s eye.

“Okay, okay. Jesus Christ.” Eddie finally wipes the tears from his eyes, hiccuping through the final giggles. “C’mon.

–

He doesn’t take you to the bathroom, though. Eddie, instead, leads you by hand into his bedroom, taking care not to slam the door behind you. Though you’ve been in here before, something in the air is different, thicker, like an invisible force hovering over your head, clinging to the walls and ceiling of his room. The feeling of being surrounded by Eddie is familiar, but there’s more on the line this time. The eggshells are thinner now. At any moment, you could fuck this up all over again.

“Hey.” The sound of Eddie’s voice, low and scratchy with exhaustion, snaps you back into your body and you can feel your heart slamming against your ribcage, breath having shortened without you noticing. “You alright, sweetheart?” He doesn’t reach for you, and you appreciate his caution even though you wish you could crawl inside his skin to hide from the way he’s searching your face.

“Yeah, yes. I’m good.” You nod quickly, like your speed ensures your honesty. “Jus’ tired.”

“Mm,” He hums in agreement. “Okay. Let’s get ready for bed, yeah?” Eddie gets to work, tornadoing around his room to grab up clothes for you to sleep in, as well as something for himself. Before you can say anything, he’s back out the door, and soon after you hear the closet door close down the hall.

“You comin’?” His tone is eager, but not like he’s rushing you, but it feels more like he’s making sure you’re still with him. Not drifting back into the panic frenzy he’d just pulled you from.

“Right behind you!” You take a long, slow breath in through your nose. Holding it, you repeat the words to yourself,

You’re okay. You’re not going to ruin this. He isn’t going to run away. Again.

It’s the last word that makes you wince. Because he’s done it before, hasn’t he? Sure, maybe it hadn’t been because of you, but he had still stopped talking to you entirely. What’s going to stop him from doing it again?

Oh my god, shut up, Bee!

You turn on your heel, hurrying to catch up to Eddie at the end of the hall. The bedroom door is ajar, but you knock anyway.

“You decent?” You hear him chuckle to himself.

“That matter?” Before you can spit back an answer, he pulls the door open the whole way, and you have to choke back a groan. Eddie’s naked. Not “naked” but covered by a too-small towel to tease you, not “naked” as in shirtless, pantsless, and clad in a thin pair of boxers. Eddie is head to toe, as the day he was born, stark, butt: naked. It takes all of your willpower to keep your eyes on his. There’s a gravitational pull downward, though, and you can only fight it for so long. Caving, your eyes scan every inch of Eddie’s form, trying to commit each freckle, mole, scar, and tattoo to memory for your daydreams later. Politely, you don’t venture below his navel, as much as you can feel the ache between your legs begging you to look.

“Hey, space case.” Eddie waves a naked hand in front of your face.

“Naked! I mean–,” You slap a hand over your mouth. “Sorry, fuck, you are so…” There is nothing you can say good enough for what you’re seeing.

“Naked? Yeah, no, I got that.” He taunts, resting a hand across his stomach lazily.

“No! Well, yeah, but,” You groan in frustration. “Just, so goddamn nice to look at.” It feels weak in your mouth. “To say the least. But why are you naked?!”

Eddie shakes his head, laughing softly as he takes a step further into your space, causing your mouth to dry. “Because you asked me to shower with you! And I could say the same thing about you, being real nice to look at. I might need a reminder, though.” His eyes flick down to your chest, still clad in your Hideout branded t-shirt. You clamor, suddenly unable to undress yourself fast enough. As you reach for the hem of your t-shirt, Eddie moves closer, fingers flying to the button of your jeans. In your haste, you whack Eddie in the chin with your forearm.

“Shit!” You exclaim, muffled by the fabric of your shirt while Eddie reels backwards.Tossing your shirt aside, you rush to where he stands against the foot of his bed, clutching his nose. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, let me see. Are you fucking laughing?!” His shoulders shake and he lowers his hand, revealing a gleaming smile.

“I dunno, honey, I think it might be terminal.” He’s perfectly fine, obviously. No blood, no bruising, no disaster to ruin the mood. Just Eddie and his stupidly cute grin, his loud laugh.

“Oh, no. What have I done?” You play along with his dramatics, finding it calms you in such a vulnerable position. You reach across the space between your bodies, cupping the side of his face to examine the damage more closely. “We might have to amputate.”

Eddie’s eyes widen with exaggerated fear. “Actually, I think it’s fine!” He scrunches his nose, sniffs, and stretches his facial muscles while you hold back a laugh in favor of your serious, concerned facade. “Yep, good as new!”

“Oh, well, that’s wonderful. I still owe you quite an apology, though.” You’re not sure how to end this bit with him now, nervous to return to the reality where he’s in the middle of undressing you.

“Nah, the vision in front of me is far more than enough of an apology.” Eddie shamelessly scans his eyes down your form, noticing your jeans still hanging onto your hips, unbuttoned and unzipped, abandoned in the chaos. You catch him staring, and offer your hand out to him. Without hesitating, Eddie lets you pull him back into your space in the already tiny bedroom. You rest the hand of his you’re holding on your hip before bringing it to drape around his neck. He gets the hint, bringing his other hand to match on your other hip before gripping onto the waistband of your jeans and pulling them to the floor, never looking away from your face. Stepping out of your denim prison, you’re pulled impossibly closer to Eddie as he replaces his hands on your hips, fingers already toying greedily with the elastic of your underwear.

“These’re cute.” Toying with the lace, he grants himself another quick glance down your body. “You wear these for me?”

You roll your eyes. “Not everything is for you, Eddie.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize your mistake.

“Hm,” You feel his hand sliding from your hip to the space between your legs, and he drags a finger slowly through the damp patch on your panties, causing your head to fall backwards. “Who’s that for, then?” He’s teasing, and it’s infuriating. Intoxicating. To shut him up, you reach your own hand between Eddie’s legs, easily finding what you’re looking for, and wrapping your hand around it. The smugness disappears from Eddie’s expression and his big, wet eyes are now blown out with a desperate pleasure you’d only previously dreamt of causing.

“Not so tough now are ya, pretty boy?”

“Christ, baby, you’re gonna kill me.”

Smirking, you take control of the moment, walking Eddie backwards to his bed. “I’m gonna do my best not to.” With one firm shove, Eddie bends at the knees, hitting his mattress butt first, eyes still on yours with his mouth hanging open like he’s lost control of it.

You break the silence. “Can I sit here?”

He nods frantically, gripping your hips again, harder now. Like he’s grounding himself. There's a rush of adrenaline when you think of the marks he'll leave on your skin, hidden but still there, just for you and him.

“Wait,” He fumbles then, and your heart drops. Eddie leans back to yank open his bedside table drawer, fumbling blindly for a good minute before finding what he’s looking for. “Safety first.” He presents a condom, holding it between two fingers.

“Hold on,” You grab his wrist, gently getting back off of his lap, much to his distaste. He pouts, and you bite back a laugh at the sight, lowering to your knees. “Wanna taste you first.”

“Fuck, baby,” The words come out strangled, borderline tortured. “Whatever you want.”

A surge of confidence bolts through you, watching the man in front of you— one known for his dramatics, his loud voice and obnoxious storytelling, distorted guitars and constant, heavy drumbeat— melting under your gaze. You have always been attracted to that version of Eddie, but the one in front of you right now is unlike anything you’ve had the pleasure of witnessing before; this softer, cautious, gentle side of Eddie you had been convinced was a myth until a couple weeks ago. He’s at your beck and call, practically hypnotized by the way you’re still slowly crouching down, until you’re resting on your heels.

Before you can tell him to, Eddie spreads his legs and you take your place between them. You gulp at the sight of Eddie’s cock as it slaps, hard and heavy, against his stomach, and you send a quick prayer to the universe that Eddie can’t see the panic in your eyes. He’s fucking huge! How the fuck are you supposed to fit that anywhere, let alone your mouth?!

“Fuck,” You whisper, as quietly as you can possibly, but he hears you anyway.

”You alright, sweetheart?” He’s teasing you, voice tainted with a condescending lilt.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Jus’… big.”

It flusters him, you can tell. “Oh, c’mon. No need or flattery, you’ve already got me naked.” He chuckles, but the blush has travelled from his cheeks to his chest, and you think it’s fucking adorable.

“Oh, shut up. Listen, I’ve seen a few of these in my life, but… nothing like this.” You really hope you’re not killing the mood. You’ve never been good at dirty talk. “I dunno if it’s gonna fit, but I’m definitely gonna try my damndest.” You meet his eyes again, and feel yourself relax when he looks at you, eyelids heavy. Eddie brings his hand to your cheek and you instinctively lean into him, relishing in the earth of his palm.

Feeling further emboldened by the way you see his cock twitch when you lick your lips, you adjust yourself between his legs until you’re mere inches from the head.

“Let me know what you like, ‘kay? Wanna make you feel good.” He nods, and you breathe in deeply, once again rising to your knees, placing a wet kiss just below his navel, nosing the coarse trail of hair down, down, until you’re back where you’d started. You keep sinking, kissing down the length of Eddie’s shaft, barely grazing his skin with your lips til you’ve reached the tip, where you drag your tongue around the underside as Eddie writhes above you.

”F- fuck.” He breathes, one hand flying to his curls while the other fists his bedsheets. You huff a small laugh, amazed at how easily you’ve worked him up. Though it’s invigorating to watch him squirm, you decide to be nice, taking his head into your mouth, sucking your cheeks in as you smother his length. He’s still looking at you, mouth open and chest heaving as you open your throat and take him deeper.

“Christ, fuck, Bee,” He’s panting, babbling, and you can see the vein in his neck protruding, causing you to squeeze your thighs together. “Not gonna last if you keep doin’ that.”

Ignoring him, you reach up to where his balled fist is clawing at his sheets, and replace the fabric with your own hand, interlacing your fingers with his. With a final deep breath, you take the rest of his length down your throat, careful to focus on your breathing when he jerks forward with a sinful moan. You mimic the sound, moaning around him, feeling the way it makes him twitch again against the back of your throat.

”Bee, please, I don’ wanna come bef- before I get-“

You start to feel him pulling away, and slide his drool covered member from your mouth, pouting up at him.

“You don’t wanna come?” You chide, cocking your head to the side with mock concern.

“No. I mean, yes. I do! But not like this. Not right now.”

“Then how?” You’re pretty sure you know what he wants, but you’re desperate to hear him say it.

”Need to be inside you. Baby, please. Gotta feel you.”

That desperate pleading is back, and it once again has you battling the fluttering in your stomach, the heat between your legs. Eddie offers his hand back out to you, and you take it, getting off your knees to once again take your place in his lap.

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” He pulls at the waist band of your panties again, and you nod. “Use your words, darlin’.”

”Please take them off, Eds.” You’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s yanking the fabric from your form, watching in awe as a string of your arousal stretches down with them before they hit the floor unceremoniously. You clear your throat when his eyes don’t return to your face.

“Sorry, sorry. I told you, I gotta make sure I catch every little detail. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this, about you. ”

You roll your hips forward, brushing your clit against his shaft, feeling the way your slick soaks his skin. “No need to think right now, you’ve got me right in front of you.” You roll your hips again, and he grips the meat of your thighs.

“Need you, Ed. Please.” You’re growing desperate, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

”Okay, yeah, fuck, ‘course. Lemme just grab a—,” Eddie searches blindly for a rubber.

You shake your head slowly, afraid to spook him. “You don’t have to. If y’don’t wanna.”

He raises a cautious eyebrow. “Are you sure? Bee, I know it’s, like, really hot in here, but I don’t want you doing anything you’re gonna regret. I don’t mind wearing it.”

“I want to. I’ve been on birth control since college.” You switch your demeanor, placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Wanna feel all of you, if you’ll let me.” You drag your nose across his cheek, to his jawline before sucking on the skin just under his ear. “I want every. Single. Inch.” You don’t quite recognize yourself right now, but you’re too motivated to question it too much.

“Fuck, okay. Shit.” And he’s moving, hand snaking between his body and yours to take control of the situation. He takes his cock in his hand, giving it a few long, slow strokes before he lines himself up with your entrance. Muscles tensing, you lower yourself back into Eddie’s lap, letting your eyes slip closed as you feel the first inch slide through your folds without a hint of resistance.

“Fuck, baby,” He’s clearly talking to himself, spoken just above a whisper you’re lucky enough to catch.

“Feels so good, Eds, need more.” Your resolve is slipping, walls crumbling around you as Eddie wraps his arm around your waist, quickly flipping you both over. You land on your back, surrounded by Eddie’s scent and warmth even before he leans into you, nipping and licking sweetly at your neck, one hand mindlessly twisting your nipple as he thrusts another thick inch into you. He’s tortuously slow in his movements, like he’s hoping if he draws this out he won’t ever have to leave your warmth. Though you’re absolutely flattered by his care, you can feel your pussy aching, begging for more. To emphasize your need, you hook one leg around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, until your chest is flush with his.

He seems to sense what you’re getting at, and pulls his face from the crook of your neck to brush his nose against yours.

“Need somethin’, sweetheart?” You could melt at the way his voice sounds right now; filled with a tired gravel, but still breathy and warm. “Gotta use your words.”

You pout, making your eyes as big as you can.

“Baby, I’m begging. I need you to move. Need you to fuck me, please.” Your voice shatters with the last word, and he loses the rest of his restraint with it. Without further pleading, Eddie snaps his hips into yours, and you feel every vein, every ridge of his cock as he fills you up. Just as quickly he’s gone again, pulling almost entirely out before slamming back into you. He keeps a brutal, perfect pace as you sputter, cockdrunk underneath him.

“God— fuck, shit, Ed— ah!”

“Doin’ so well, baby. Feels so fuckin’ good. Knew this pussy was made for me.” The confident Eddie you’re so used to comes back in a way you aren’t expecting, making your head spin with his filthy mouth. “Been thinkin’ about you like this for fuckin’ ever.”

You can only mewl in response, forgetting how to form words when all you can feel is Eddie’s thick cock prodding at the perfect spot inside you as you tense and writhe around him.

“What," He starts, head tilting to the side, "nothin’ to say all of a sudden? My cock make you stupid?” The bitterness of his tone spurs you on, and you yank his face down, connecting your lips in a messy, teeth gnashing kiss that he returns eagerly. Eddie’s bedroom fills with the wet, dirty sounds of sweaty skin on skin, spit soaked lips and the juices between your legs. Your walls flutter and flex around him as he thrusts into you, each movement punctured with a sharp inhale or the slip of a whimper when he hits it just right. But you still want more. To crawl inside his skin would still not be enough.

You separate from his kiss, string of saliva keeping you connected until you speak, fighting to say the words through your short breaths. “Gonna come, Eds. Wan’ you to come with me.”

He’s nodding before you finish talking, the hand not supporting his weight slipping between your bodies. You feel his calloused, dexterous fingers slide up your neck, caressing your jaw before he’s pressing two to your lips. “Open.” You do, wide as you can as Eddie slips his middle and ring finger against your tongue. “Suck.” You do, holding eye contact and relishing in the way you feel him shiver. When he’s satisfied, Eddie takes possession of his hand back, and makes quick work of finding your clit, rubbing quick circles on the bud as he resumes the pace of his hips.

Looking at him much longer might kill you at this point; his curls sticking to his face and neck, skin a flushed red and shiny with sweat. His lips are puffy and kiss bitten, and you feel a sense of pride in having caused them to look like that. You can see a small bruise forming on the column of this throat, and you feel your cunt flutter again. It’s too much, so you opt for throwing your face into the crook of your elbow.

“Eyes on me, princess. Wanna see your face when I make you come on my cock.” You feel your heart screech to a halt as his words break through your drunken haze. You have no choice but to obey, returning your arm to where it had been around his neck. Eddie takes hold of the leg you’d wrapped around him, lifting it higher onto his torso, and you feel him somehow even deeper.

“Fuck, Eddie, Jesus Christ. Gonna come. Please, don’t stop. Right there, fuck. Feels so go- shit!” His fingers have returned to your clit, and it’s all you need to fall over the edge. You see white as your back arches on the mattress, legs shaking violently as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm before quickly falling apart right after. You rush to look at him, not wanting to miss the finale, and catch as his eyes screw shut, chest heaving, a string of curses and your name slurred together as you feel his spend paint your walls. Unable to do much else, you pull him back for one more kiss, this time much slower, softer, filled with all the things you shouldn’t say yet.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says when you finally let him go, sheepish suddenly. You tuck a stray curl behind his ear.

“Not so bad yourself, honey.” You bare a grin, still only trying to soothe his nerves despite the way yours are firing on all cylinders.

“So, about that shower,” He starts before gently pulling himself from you, careful not to ruin the post orgasm glow you’re both sitting in.

“Ah, forget it. Too tired.” You give him a sleepy smile, and he exhales with relief.

“Okay, good. Me too. Lemme clean you up, though, yeah? I’ll be right-,”

You cut him off, shaking your head as you reach for him again. “Not yet. Stay here for a minute. Just hold me.” Sex makes you cuddly, apparently. That’s never been a feature before Eddie, though.

“You’re gonna be so uncomfortable if you stay like that, baby. Go pee, I’ll grab a wet cloth. Then, I promise, I’ll hold you for as long as you want.”

Your heart swells with his sweet words, you've never been treated so well. Usually after the guy gets his, he rolls over, asleep before you can even say goodnight.

“Okay, fine. Be quick.” You roll over, swinging your sweaty legs over the edge of the mattress. You feel his come sliding down your thighs, sticking to your skin. Eddie follows suit, rushing from the bedroom to the bathroom for a face cloth, and you follow behind him, unable to keep the smile from your face watching his butt jiggle as he walks.

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children-of-the-grave · 3 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XXIII: Bitter Tears and Broken Hearts

songs for this chapter: supercut by lorde, my oldest friend by have mercy, teenagers by hayley williams

chapter tags: dialogue heavy lore drop, you’re welcome!, angst, hurt/comfort (kinda?), mutual pining | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | REMINDER: THIS FIC IS RATED EXPLICIT. 18+ mdni.

a/n: i know it’s cruel to drop a flashback chapter after the events of the previous one… and yet im doing it anyway! ty wife for beta reading these last two chapters i love u

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, my tumblr and ao3 are the only account that feature and contain this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere Reblog to support the author!

—

May, Six Years Ago (four months before the arrest)

Bee:

“Tweety!” Eddie calls you from the end of the hallway, and you wave letting him know you’ve heard him. You take your English notebook from your locker, tossing it into your stuffed backpack. It’s the Friday before finals, the last of your high school career. Unfortunately, you don’t have that same hope for Eddie, who hasn’t once shown the motivation to even try at all in his classes this year.

“Hey,” He leans against the lockers next to yours. Much to your dismay, he’s not even carrying a textbook, let alone his backpack. “You ready?” It’s the end of the day, technically, but the bell has yet to ring signaling the official end of the day.

“Yeah. Where’s your stuff?”

“Ah, probably left it in Hellfire. Dustin can grab it for me.” Like it’s nothing. “You got plans tonight?”

“I’m hitting the library later with Robin, our English final is Monday.” You hoist your backpack onto your shoulder and follow Eddie out to his van. “You could come with us. I know for a fact you haven’t even looked at the book since it was assigned a month ago.”

“Aw, Tweety. It’s like you know me or somethin’.” Eddie jests, nudging your shoulder with his. “I already got stuff planned, though. Chris and I are gonna hit up the shop, see what we can see. You should come.”

“I have no desire to follow you both down the road of misdemeanors, believe it or not. Have fun, though. Don’t let Chris get you in more trouble than he’s worth.” You tug on the passenger door of his van while Eddie loops around to the driver’s side.

“Not sure I can make any promises.” Eddie throws the car into drive, and peels out of the Hawkins High student lot.

—

Eddie:

He watches as you hop out of his van, and up the walkway to her house. Once you’re safely inside, he skirts off the curb, tires screeching as he makes his way to the body shop.

“Ed!” Chris approaches him, wiping the motor oil from his hands with a goofy grin slapped on his face. “You’re never gonna believe what came in, man.” He motions Eddie into the shop, presenting him with the most beautiful machine ever to grace his presence.

“No fuckin’ way.” He has to resist the urge to slide his hands across the hood. “Whose beauty is this?”

“That’s the best part. It’s Carver’s.”

Though Chris’s eyes are gleaming with a mad sort of eagerness, Eddie feels his heart skip. “Oh, dude, I don’t think I can go in on that with you.”

“C’mon, Ed. It is a ‘64 cherry red convertible. How’re you gonna pass this up?”

“It’s the chief of police’s car, Chris.”

“That’s just a bonus.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Let me sit on it, man. I gotta go, though. You comin’?”

“Yeah, gotta clock out. What’s the rush?”

“Got invited to a study date, it’s rude to show up late.” He wrings his hands, fidgeting with the metal on his fingers.

“A date, huh? Who’s the lucky lady? Or man, I don’t judge.”

“I’m not answering that.”

“So I know them, then. Guess I’m comin’ with ya.”

“Chris. Please, just. Let me have this.”

“Lemme think…. Nope!” He tosses the oil stained rag onto the workbench and grabs his duffel. “Cmon, Munson, you’ve got studying to do.”

–

Bee:

You and Robin have been studying the symbolism of every single book you’d read in class this year for three hours.

“I’m tired of this, Robin!” You groan, head in your notebook.

“Well, that’s too damn bad!” Robin slaps your arm with her deck of flashcards. “Now, why is it important to note the lack of authority in Lord of the Flies?”

Before you can muster up the strength to answer, there’s a cacophony of laughter bursting in through the door, followed by a fed up Mrs. Beasly shushing them to no avail.

“There she is!” Eddie and Chris stroll through the tables full of miserable high school seniors, over to where you and Robin sit in the corner, surrounded by books, note paper, and highlighters of every color.

“Shh!” You and Robin both spit at the boys as they drag empty seats out from the table, Eddie flopping down next to you while Chris sits across from Robin.

“Sorry!” Eddie whispers, holding his hands up in surrender. “Figured you’d been here long enough, we came to rescue you.”

“We’ll have you know, dingus, that neither Bee nor I need rescuing from you.” Robin bites, flipping a notebook page so hard it rips. “Shit.”

“Of course, you don’t need it, but we figure you might want it anyway.” Chris refutes, snatching her notebook out of her reach.

“Come on, some of us actually care about graduating!”

“Ouch, Rob.” Eddie clutches his chest in mock offense. “Didn’t know you were so elitist about grades.”

“She’s not elitist, she’s just a nerd.” Chris teases, and Robin’s face goes red with frustration.

“Can you both just leave? Please?” You shove Eddie away from you for emphasis. “We’ll be out in an hour. Just give us that, okay?”

“Ugh, fine! But we’ll be coming for you in exactly sixty minutes. Be ready.” Chris gets up, and looks to Eddie. “C’mon, man.”

“Right, one sec.” Eddie looks back to you. “You promise you’ll come out?”

You nod. “If you leave right now, I will come out with you tonight.”

He holds out his pinky, and you hook it with your own. Finally, he gets up, and follows Chris out of the library.

“Such a pain in the fuckin’ ass.” Robin mumbles, and you snicker.

—

Eddie:

Before he can think better of it, Eddie shoves Chris harder than necessary. “What the fuck, man?”

“What? That obviously wasn’t a date, that was my sister and her weird friend. I saved you from hours of unnecessary boredom! And, they’re gonna come out tonight.”

“Y’know, I am more than capable of making my own decisions about my own free time.”

“Clearly, that’s not true. Now, c’mon, we gotta go get the keg for tonight.”

“How are you gonna get the keg if you’re with me? I’m not twenty-one, remember?”

“Maybe not, but you’ve got two extra arms I could use. Stay in the car, I’ll get it. You’re just gonna have to help me put it in the trunk.”

“Fuck you, dude. You’re gonna be the reason she never talks to me again one of these days.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure you can fuck that up all on your own.”

–

Bee:

You wish, desperately, that you hadn’t agreed to come out. The party is out at Lover’s Lake, and seems to be populated with every single delinquent in Hawkins. Unfortunately for you, this means your brother and Eddie are the center of attention.

“Hey! You made it!” Chris approaches, red solo cup in hand with Eddie in tow. “You guys wanna drink?”

“Absolutely!” Robin snatches the empty cup from Chris. Before he can argue, he’s being pulled in another direction by one of his cronies, leaving you alone with Eddie.

“How’d you get stuck as the designated driver?” He matches your stride, falling into step as you follow Robin to the keg.

“Didn’t really feel like waking up with a hangover tomorrow.” You shrug, taking a sip from the water bottle you’d brought with you. Eddie rolls his eyes. “What?”

“It’s senior year, Tweet. You gotta live a little bit.” He takes a swig of his drink and belches. You wrinkle your nose at the display.

“I can live all I want when I get out of this Hellhole. So can you, Ed. You’re not like my brother, you don’t have to be stuck here forever.” You hadn’t meant to sound so distraught, but the crack in your voice makes you wince.

“Chris isn’t stuck, Bee. He’s here because he wants to be. There’s nothing wrong with that, either.”

It’s unbelievable how naive he is. “Why are you defending him? My brother’s a loser, Ed. You know it, too. I don’t get why you like him so much.”

“Can we stop talking about this for a second, please?” Eddie has raised his walls up, not willing to talk about anything that matters. “Just, try to have some fun, okay? For once?”

“Fine.” You snatch his drink from him, and gulp the rest of the lukewarm beer down your throat. “Fun enough for ya?” And before he can respond, you’re stomping off, into the woods, alone, only to stop to refill the cup.

–

“Tweety?!” You hear him before you see him, footsteps getting louder as Eddie ultimately finds you at the picnic table, about a mile away from the party. You’ve downed your second drink, and the trees around you seem to wiggle in the settling sun. You giggle to yourself, shaking with them.

“Christ, Bee. You’re lucky it’s just me, you could be killed out here alone.” Eddie hikes up the incline, and sits across from you at the splintering table, now a home for the spiders and ants more than a place to sit. “You okay?”

“I’m great!” You say, definitely not great, but excessively intoxicated. You’re not used to drinking, so clearly you haven’t discovered your tolerance. Apparently, it’s pretty low.

“Right, and I’m definitely buying that. What’s wrong?” He sounds like he cares, but you and Eddie haven’t been close in a long time, so you’re not sure you can trust your judgment of him right now.

“Well, I’m wasted.” You avert his gaze, talking to your hands. “So don’t expect me to be gentle with you.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other day, sweets.”

“My brother sucks. He sucks so badly. And I love him, seriously.” Words are falling out of your mouth before you can think. “His heart is so big and he is so kind, but he is such a reckless person, Ed.” Eddie only stares at you, unblinking while you ramble on. “He’s careless when it comes to his safety. He looks for trouble. I don’t want you going down that path.” You have to press your lips together between sentences to keep from bursting into tears. “I can’t watch you throw your life away.”

“I can take care of myself.” He defends, crossing his arms over his chest, brow furrowed.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. You know I’m right, Ed. If you feel like hanging out with my moronic brother is the right thing for you, then that’s your choice. But you can’t blame me when all of it finally catches up to you. You can’t expect me to throw my life away, too.”

“Is this because of the library? Look, I wanted to come alone, but–”

“No,” You interrupt, shaking your head. “This isn’t about anything you did. I just know my brother. I know he loves you more than me, and it hurts like hell but I can’t do anything about it.” You’re not even sure you’re making sense, and Eddie isn’t giving you anything to work with. “I know he took my best friend from me, and he doesn’t see any issues with that. So now I’m here in the middle of the woods too drunk to tell that best friend that I am terrified of losing him.” Your voice cracks, and your resolve breaks. You catch your head in your hands as the tears begin to fall.

“Oh, Bee,” Eddie stands from his seat across from you, rushing to your side and wrapping his arms around you. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. You are still my best friend. The most important person in my whole entire universe, okay?” He kisses the crown of your head and pulls you closer, rubbing soothing circles as you cry into his chest while the crickets chirp in the trees.

–

Eddie:

“Go to prom with me.” It’s Monday, and you’ve just finished your first final of the week. You close your locker to see Eddie standing on the other side of it, a small bouquet of white daisies clutched in his shaking hand. He’s wearing a button down black shirt, and his hair is far tamer than usual. “Will ya?”

“What the hell are you doing?” You lean against the lockers, arms crossed with distrust. “Weren’t you the one that said prom was a scam? Built by ‘the man’ to trick kids into thinking we’re destined to have a perfect, fairytale night?”

Eddie only shrugs. “Maybe I am not immune to propaganda.”

“Why are you asking me? After all that shit I said on Friday, I figured I wouldn’t hear from you until you needed me to bail you out of jail.” It’s a mean joke, but you’re too upset to take it back.

“You wound me.” Eddie pouts, offering the flowers to you. “But if there’s anyone I’d want to spend a miserable night making fun of everyone’s attire and the choice of music with, it’s you.” He gives you a half smile that never fails to make your stomach flutter.

“Fine. I will go to prom with you. On one condition.”

“Anything you want.” His smile widens.

“You have to participate. No moping, no pranks, no bullshit. You have to lean into the fairytale. Just for one night.”

He groans dramatically, but ultimately decides against arguing with you. “Okay, fine. Deal.” Once again, he offers out his pinky, and you take it with yours.

“Deal.”

–

Bee:

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror like it’s your job. You’ve been dressed for two hours, with your hair and makeup done as you pace around your bedroom, riddled with anxiety.

“Can’t believe you convinced Munson to take you to prom.” Chris sits on your bed next to Robin, arms crossed as he watches you pace. “You must’ve hexed him or something.”

“Eddie used to like fun, believe it or not.” Robin spits, getting up to stop you from creating a literal rut in your floor. If anyone’s more sick of Chris than you, it’s Rob.

“He likes fun! Just, a different kind of fun.” Chris chuckles, swinging his legs up onto your bed in Robin’s spot. “You might like it, Bee. You too, Rob.” You roll your eyes, ignoring your brother’s instigation when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” Robin scurries out of the room, leaving you alone with your brother.

“You need to leave Eddie the fuck alone.” You look at Chris behind you in the mirror, and his eyes widen. “You’re gonna get him in fucking trouble, more than you already have.” You adjust the strap of your dress for the seventh time.

“He’s a man, Bee. He can make his own decisions.”

“And he’ll keep choosing you.” You turn abruptly to face him, to look him in the eye as you release your anger. “Because he looks up to you, for some reason completely unbeknownst to me. You’ve got him by the balls, and I need you to give my my fucking friend back.” You put as much venom behind your words as you can muster without ruining your lipstick.

“I have absolutely no control over Eddie. He just likes me more than you. That’s why he hasn’t fuckin’ shown up yet.” You glance at your phone, and the time reads 7:45. He’s late, and you haven’t gotten a single text from him.

“He’ll be here.” You mumble. “You, however, can get the fuck out.”

“Right, sure.” With that, Chris exits your room, and slams the door to his own. Robin returns with Steve, decked out in a slick black tux, next to her.

“Sorry, I know I’m not the one you were hoping for.” Steve says sheepishly, but you wave it off.

“No, but it’s just as nice to see you, Stevie.” You wrap your arms around him, and he hugs you close. “You look really good.”

“And you both look stunning. Can’t believe I’m taking the coolest girls to prom!”

“Hey, you’re taking me. Bee has her own date.”

“Right, I forgot. Where is Prince Charming, by the way?”

You shake your head. “Pretty sure he stood me up.”

“No he fuckin’ didn’t.” Steve frowns at you. “He’d be the biggest imbecile in the world.”

You shrug. “Stranger things have happened.”

—

Eddie:

He’s been staring at himself in the mirror for the last hour. His navy blue suit is too small, jacket tight around his arms, cuffs not reaching his wrists. He feels stupid, and he’s certain he’ll look just as such standing next to you in a pretty dress. Everything feels wrong, he’s sweating, and he can’t convince himself to leave the house. The corsage he’d bought for you taunts him from his desk top.

He’d also gotten the news today that he wouldn’t be graduating this year. He failed three of his six finals, and had to repeat his senior year. Needless to say, he was not in the mood to party.

“Ed?” Wayne calls from the kitchen. “You almost ready? It’s impolite to keep your date waiting!”

“Wayne, I don’t think I can go.” Eddie mumbles, but Wayne still hears it because his footsteps are already approaching.

“What the hell do you mean?” He stands there, arms crossed in the doorway to Eddie’s room. “You said you had a date and everything!”

“Maybe I lied.”

“Why would you lie?”

“To not seem like such a goddamn loser! This suit is not helping with that, though.” He stretches his arms out in front of him, causing the sleeves to ride up higher on his arms. “I’ll just disappoint her anyway.”

“Then that’s her loss, son. Whoever this girl is, she’d be lucky to go to prom with you.”

“I don’t think you’d be saying that if you knew who I’m supposed to be taking. Which is why I will not be sharing that information.”

Wayne frowns. “Are you sure you don’t wanna go?”

Eddie sighs, flopping down on his bed. “I can’t. She’s gonna be so mad at me, but I can’t do it.”

“You’re gonna have to make it up to her, then.” Wayne motions for Eddie to get up, and he does. Wrapping his arms around his nephew, he says, “I’m sure she’ll understand, but you should call her.”

—

Bee:

“Bee, please!” The knocking has become insistent. “I’m so sorry, please let me explain!” You’d gone to prom alone. Well, with Rob and Steve. You’d been lucky enough to have fun, despite the ache in your heart every single time a slower song would play. You’d had no one to laugh at the jocks with, no one to pretend to be miserable with. No slow dance partner. Eddie has now been standing outside your house for three hours, wearing a suit a size too small, wilted flowers in his fist.

“Go away!” You shout from your bedroom window. You’re still in pajamas, the makeup from last night smeared on your cheeks from crying yourself to sleep. “You promised me, Eddie! I have nothing to fucking say to you.”

“I’ll stand out here ’til you run away to school, baby. You can’t get rid of me.”

“I will literally call the fuckin’ cops.” You practically spit out your window. “Go home.”

“Call ‘em! I’m not goin’ anywhere until you talk to me!”

You groan, slamming your window closed before rolling back into bed, face shoved in your pillow.

—

Eddie:

He’s about to give up when your front door opens. It’s not you he’s met with though, just your brother with a sour look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to apologize to your sister.” Eddie fiddles with his hands. “How mad is she?”

“She’s pretty pissed, man. Probably for the better, though. Not like you’d wanna be there anyway.”

Eddie sighs, climbing into the van and slamming his door. “That’s the thing, Chris. I did want to be there. With her. And I fucked it all up.” He cranks the radio down as he speaks, the sappy love ballad fading into background noise.

“She’ll forgive you, man. You guys are best friends, there’s no way she’d hold that grudge.”

Eddie shrugs sadly. “I don’t think I can take your word for it.”

Chris walks around the van, hopping into the passenger seat before Eddie can object. “Okay, so don’t. Let’s go blow off some of this steam. But first, maybe change you out of this ridiculous attire?”

Despite himself, Eddie chuckles, throwing his van into drive and peeling out of your driveway, taking one last look at your closed bedroom window.

–

It’s been a week, and Eddie hasn’t made another move to contact you. He’s stared at his messages between you, wondering what he could even say to fix all of this.

He types and deletes:

> can we talk?

“Ed?” Robin approaches him in the hallway on the last day of school. “Good to know you’re alive. You doin’ alright?” Her kindness is unexpected.

“No, not really. I have to repeat my senior year.” He hands her the slip with the news on it, after finding it in the back of his notebook.

“Shit, Eddie. That blows, I’m so sorry.” She takes the sheet from him to skim it. “They couldn’t even offer you summer classes?”

He shakes his head. “Apparently they are ‘not confident a retest would make a difference.’” He snatches the paper back, crumpling it before tossing it into his mess of a locker. “On the bright side, though, I have no reason to clean this out.” He slams the locker door before turning back to Robin. “Don’t tell Bee, okay?”

“She’s gonna find out when you’re not walking at graduation. Or Chris will be the one to tell her, and I don’t see how that’s a better option.”

“I’ll tell her, I just need some time. She hasn’t even looked at me since prom.”

Robin stops walking.“What happened there, by the way? She was really excited to go with you.”

He sighs, staring at his shoes. “I’m a coward. I freaked out, and I couldn’t bring myself to even explain it to her. It’s probably for the best, though. She deserves way more than I can give her.”

“Are you in love with her?”

The question startles him. “What?”

“Are you in love with Bee, Eddie?”

“I– where did that come from?”

“Well, you asked her to prom for one thing.”

“As a friend!”

“Right, totally. You two are the most platonic people I’ve ever met. That was proven by the way she acted when you stood her up.”

“How did she… what do you mean?”

She sighs. “You can’t tell her I told you, but she was distraught. She hid it really well, but I could tell she missed you. Every time there was a slow song, and especially when they announced the court. It broke my heart to watch her mope.”

“She’s never gonna forgive me, is she?”

She shrugs. “You won’t know until you try.”

Eddie shakes his head, confused. “Why would she?”

“Because, dingus, she loves you. You’re her best friend. As much as I’ve been fighting for the title these last four years, you’ve earned it, until recently. She feels like she’s losing you. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but I’m getting tired of you two tiptoeing around each other.”

It stops him, cold. He’s been distant, he knows that. Mostly because he’d been trying to suffocate the less-than-platonic feelings he’d developed for you since high school started, but also because of your own brother. He’d been swept up in Chris’s chaos, leaving no room for the relief, the calm, you’d brought to him. His eyes stung, the more he thought about it. “Now go fix it, dummy!” Robin shoves him playfully, but still hard enough to make him stumble. “You gotta go tell her something. Clean up this mess you’ve made, yeah?”

Eddie nods, backing away from her, down the hall. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Tell her to call me when she gets home!”

Eddie scoffs before turning heel and jogging down the hall, off to find you.

–

Bee:

“Can we talk?” Eddie’s voice makes you jump.

“I have nothing to say to you, Eddie.” You’re about to leave Hawkins High for the last time, but you don’t have that sense of excitement you thought you would. You feel empty, and a little lonely.

“Okay, fine. I’ll talk, I just need you to listen to me.” If not for the break in his voice, maybe you could have resisted his begging. “Just let me explain.”

“Fine.” You turn to face him, immediately wishing you hadn’t. His eyes are wet and puffy, like he’d spent the last day of school hiding in the janitor’s closet crying. He leads you to his van, parked in the back of the senior lot, away from everyone else. He opens the back doors, making room for you to sit next to him amongst the old blankets in his trunk.

“First, I wanna apologize. I am so goddamn sorry about prom, I know nothing I say will be enough of a reason to earn your forgiveness.” You don’t say anything, just twiddle your thumbs in your lap, waiting for him to continue. “I got told that day that I failed senior year. I’m being held back.”

That makes you look at him, your heart sinking. “What?”

“Yeah. Looks like I really am gonna get stuck in Hawkins.”

You shake your head. “No, you won’t. You’ll be okay, Eddie.”

“Not without you, I won’t be. You’re goin’ to New York, right? So I’ve got, like, three months left before you forget about my existence?” He sounds so broken when he speaks, each word a stab to your heart. “And I guess maybe that’s another reason, subconsciously, that I bailed. That was supposed to be our last night as Hawkins High students and instead it was a reminder that I’m getting left behind.”

You twist your body towards him. “Just because I’m leaving the state doesn’t mean I’m leaving you. You are always gonna be a part of my life.”

“Even after I stood you up?” He looks at you with big, hopeful eyes. “Because I’d understand if that was a deal breaker.”

You shake your head. “It’ll take a lot more than standing me up to get rid of me. I just wish you’d called or something.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, I should have.”

You scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around his midsection, causing him to stiffen slightly before relaxing into your touch. “You are my best friend, regardless. You’re gonna be okay. I’ll be home during the holidays, and I’ll call you to help you study. You can come out to visit me on weekends, if you want. Tons of pretty college girls and boys to make you swoon.”

Eddie chuckles sadly, wrapping his arms around you. “I love you, Bee.”

“I love you too, Ed. Let’s go home.”

—

Eddie:

He’d meant it. In every sense of the term, he loves you. He’s not sure you’ll interpret it that way, but for now saying it feels like enough. You’re sitting next to him on the couch of his trailer, shoulder to shoulder as the TV flashes with some movie on cable. The window AC unit hums to little avail, the trailer still stuffy from the heat outside.

He’s focused on your profile, the way your smile twitches when something funny happens on screen. You toss popcorn into your mouth absentmindedly, eyes glued to the television.

“What are you staring at, Munson?” You aren’t even looking at him. “I can feel you staring.”

“What? No I’m not!” He slaps his hands over his eyes. “Can’t see a thing!”

Your giggling makes his heart slam against his ribs. “You’re such an idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot, right?”

“Obviously. My own personal, limited edition idiot.”

“One of one sold.” He moves his hands to find you looking at him now, eyes big and sparkly, he could drop dead if he looks too long. “Extremely rare.”

You blush bright red, and Eddie’s sure his own cheeks match. The next words you say are barely audible, but he’ll never forget them. “Guess I just got super lucky.” Before he can react, you plant a kiss on his cheek, and turn back to the movie like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, the feeling of your lips on his skin will be seared into his memory for the foreseeable future.

49 notes · View notes

children-of-the-grave · 4 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XVIII: At The End of a Dead-End Street

songs for this chapter: let’s start degeneracy by microwave, love is embarrassing by olivia rodrigo, end of beginning by djo, dead horse by hayley williams, stone by born without bones

chapter tags: angst, hurt/slight comfort, confrontations, drinking, smoking, just a whole lotta drama! happyISH note to end, but don't get too comfortable! | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | REMINDER: THIS FIC IS RATED EXPLICIT. 18+ mdni.

a/n: i debated on putting a djo song in this fic for awhile and i think it’s just necessary atp. Also this song works for the theme so, continuity and realism be damned! In this universe steve and joe both exist. Because i said so.

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, my tumblr and ao3 are the only accounts that feature and contain this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere Reblog to support the author!

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r @justalotoffanfiction @bl0ssomanddie @eddiesgirl1944 @longlivedelusion

It’s been almost four days, and you’ve been left on read for three of them. Luckily, Steve and Robin couldn’t hold a grudge after you kicked them out of the bar, so you’ve found yourself over, far too early for their party.

“So,” You flop down next to Robin on her couch, crossing your legs underneath you. She sips her matcha latte, waiting for you to continue. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, me? I’m great. My best friend disappeared for like four days with the boy she claims to hate leaving me to wonder if she’s been murdered! But I'm fantastic!”

“Robin. You have my location. I was at home, or working.”

“All alone, I’m sure.” She’s teasing, but you can sense an edge of bitterness.

“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly mad at me for hanging out with Eddie.” You can’t possibly take upsetting another friend right now.

“What? No, of course not! I love that you guys are talking again, it makes my life a lot easier knowing you’re hanging out with someone that clearly cares about you. Almost as much as me.” She winks, and you giggle with her. “Who’s mad at you for hanging out with Eddie?”

“Chris was. Or, he was mad at Eddie for hanging out with me. Maybe both? I dunno. Just, not really sure what I’m supposed to do about that.”

“Who says you have to do anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“Bee, no matter what you do, someone, somewhere is gonna be unhappy about it. Might as well do what makes you happiest.” She scoots closer, leaning her head on your shoulder. “You hanging out with Eddie means Steve is gonna owe me fifty bucks in about a month’s time. Don’t tell him I told you that, though.”

“You made a bet?!” You pull away from her to look her in the eye, to make sure she’s not kidding.

“Oh, like. In high school. When you stopped talking, I bet you’d be friends again one day. Steve was pretty sure you’d never be able to forgive him.”

“Does Steve really think I’m that stubborn?”

She shrugs. “There’s a lot he knows that I don’t. I didn’t meet you until our sophomore year, and I didn’t even talk to Steve until we were seniors and he’d graduated. Turns out I still know you better, though.” She grins smugly, and it makes you beam.

“You are my best friend, Rob. Seriously, never forget that.”

“Couldn’t if I tried. Now, full disclosure, there’s a B side to our bet.”

“Oh?”

“We made an addendum, if you will. When Eddie showed up at Chris’s party.”

“And what was that addendum?” You can feel your face getting hot.

“When you two start dating.”

You blink at her. “Excuse me? When?”

“We also have money on which of you will initiate the first kiss.”

“Robin!”

“Bee, please. You cannot be that blind!”

This isn’t happening. “I have no clue what the hell you’re talking about.”

She raises her hands in surrender, despite your pleas for her to continue. “Never mind. I’m sorry, that’s not fair. I shouldn’t be making bets on my friend’s personal life.”

“No, you really shouldn’t!” You sip your coffee grumpily, turning back to the New Girl episode you’d started mere minutes earlier.

“You guys are kinda like Nick and Jess.” Robin muses.

“Shut. Up. You know what? You don’t even have to worry about it. I told him I didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

Her laugh ceases abruptly, eyes widening as she registers the weight of what you said. “What? Why?”

But before you can answer, Steve comes out of the kitchen, purple and orange paper streamers taped to his fingers. “Hello? Would you two stop yapping and help me with the decorations?” causing you and Robin to burst into giggles.

—

Steve’s Halloween parties are known in town for being the spot that weekend. If you don’t at least make an appearance, it’s not worth mentioning what you did do.

You haven’t been to one since high school. You didn’t have the energy, and it wasn’t worth the trouble to pretend. But for some reason, you feel obligated this time. So you dawn the jade green dress a second time since purchasing it, heart feeling heavy in your chest.

“Dude, you look insanely hot.” Robin gushes, helping you tie the corset. “Eddie’s gonna die.” You frown, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “What, you think because you texted him that he’ll give up on you? You’re funny. And way too naive for your own good.” She knots the ribbons of the corset before stepping back. “Tada!”

You do look insanely hot, you can’t argue that. The dress seems to float as you walk, twirling around you in a way you can only describe as romantic. You’ve dawned a pair of elf ears you’d found at the Spirit Halloween in town, and a pair of strappy sandals you’d thrifted last summer.

“The problem is I still don’t know how I upset him. I was supposed to be the one throwing a temper tantrum!” It’s silly, you know that, but you’re so tired of being the last one allowed to feel a certain way. “It shouldn’t have even been a big deal.”

“Did you mean it?” Robin asks, adjusting her own costume of Natasha Lyonne's character in But I’m A Cheerleader, complete with fluffy hair secured with a headband.

It’s a loaded question. “To an extent,” You shrug, gently spreading pink glitter across your cheeks. “I probably could have explained myself a little.”

“Okay, so tell him what you meant. That boy would die for you, whether you wanna believe it or not, I’m sure he’d be willing to listen.”

“Rob, I don’t need that pressure. I don’t owe him anything after the shit he and my brother pulled. The fact that I gave him a chance at all is a feat.” You spin to look at your best friend, who’s already examining you with a pair of sad, bet losing eyes. “I’ll pay you out whatever you lose to Steve, if it will get you to stop pouting at me.” You cross your arms over your chest, and she mirrors you.

“It’s not the money I’m upset about, though that for sure doesn’t alleviate the sting. I was rooting for you guys. I still am! Even if, at least right now, that seems a little delusional. I have faith.” She smiles smugly at you, and before you can retort there’s a knock on her bedroom door.

“Ladies! Party starts in thirty, which means I need your help curating the playlist, like, now!” Steve calls from the other side, and you chuckle.

“Yes, Mom! Be right there!” You yank the doorknob and step into what you’ve lovingly called the Harrington Haunt. The walls are plastered with cheap store bought decorations: caution tape, sticky window hangings meant to look like bloody hands, things that definitely won’t hold up past tonight. Every flat surface holds a bowl full of a different snack: kettle corn, M&Ms, pretzels, Steve has it all. You make your way over to where he stands, hand on his hip while the other scrolls through his music library for songs appropriate for the evening. He’s dressed like John Lennon, with circular glasses and a black turtleneck.

“Gimme that.” You quip, snatching his phone from his hand. “Worry not about your playlist curation, Stevie. I’m here to rescue you.” Mostly, you just want to make sure there’s a healthy mix of pop for the locals in with the weird shit you’ll likely sneak in.

“Thanks, Bee, however will I repay you?” Steve rolls his eyes, but he nudges you to show he’s only kidding, that he does truly appreciate the help.

“Keep Munson far, far away from me tonight, and we’ll call it even.”

Steve frowns, clocking Robin’s look behind you. You don’t bother arguing, you’re sure they’re going to do nothing of the sort. Looks like it will be up to you to maintain sanity tonight, without the help of your matchmaking duo.

–

By 9:30, the apartment is filled with your friends, acquaintances, and people you’ve probably met before but can't place. Music floods through the speakers, one of your personal favorite songs that the general audience seem to be enjoying. So far, you’ve been lucky enough not to see Eddie, unsure at this point if he’s even here. He wouldn’t pass up such a valuable opportunity to sell his product, though, so you assume he’ll be here soon if he hasn’t shown up already.

“Bee?” The question comes from over your shoulder, and you turn around to meet the eyes of none other than Scotty. “Shit, that is you!” Without warning, he pulls you into an unreciprocated hug, pinning your arms to their sides. He’s dressed as a pirate, complete with a stuffed parrot on his shoulder, and a tattered eye patch over his left eye. He smells like booze, and you flinch when he rubs your back.

“Scott. Hi.” A polite response, but not one that opens the door to further conversation.

“Listen, since I’ve got you,” He starts, completely disregarding your visible discomfort. “I wanna apologize for standing you up. That was really lame of me, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. I feel horrible.” His voice is even, like he’s rehearsed these lines to spit back at you.

You shake your head. “No big deal, man. I forgive you.” Mostly, you just don’t feel like causing another scene with him.

“You wanna dance?” The song is faster, and you weigh the risk of dancing with him in your head. “Okay, sure. Yeah, let’s dance.” He beams, taking your hand in his and leading you to a space in the den where guests are gyrating, grinding on each other as the rhythm shakes the walls.

He’s a perfect gentleman, surprisingly enough. He doesn’t get on top of you, only holds you by the waist as you turn your back to him, a more PG version of what your fellow party goers are doing. “You look good, by the way. Great costume.”

“Thanks, made it myself.” You smile politely as you sway your hips, doing your best not to grind into him too much, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. “Lovin’ the pirate, too.”

“Ha, thanks. Had the shirt already, figured I would build off that.”

The conversation doesn’t stray from small talk, much to your relief. When the song ends, he leads you back to the couches, flopping down next to you. You’re still talking when the air around you shifts, someone moving too close into the already crowded space.

“You are fucking unbelievable.” His words raise the hairs on your neck, and Scotty jolts from his seat on the couch. You dare to look up at him, and immediately regret it. His curly locks have disappeared, hidden under a slicked platinum wig. He’s done Spike insane justice, down to the chain around his neck and his nails painted black. He looks hot. You can feel yourself blushing.

“It doesn’t concern you, man.” Scotty puffs out his chest, attempting to make himself look bigger. “We’re just havin’ a friendly conversation.”

“Yeah, while your girlfriend sits on the other side of the room crying because she thinks you’re cheating on her.” Eddie nods, gesturing to the melancholy girl leaning against the kitchen counter, red solo cup in her grip. Her makeup is running, and you catch her eyes glaring at you before she quickly darts them to the floor.

“You have a girlfriend?” You look back to Scott. “Why the fuck did you ask me to dance?”

“Yeah, Scotty? Why’d you ask her to dance?” Eddie echos, head tilted with mock curiosity.

“It wasn’t anything like that! I just wanted to, y’know, apologize for that date.”

“Uh huh. Then why is your girl crying like you kicked her puppy?” Eddie challenges, and your heart stings. You’d never wish that kind of pain on someone, much less volunteer to be the cause of it.

“I- uh,” Scotty stutters.

“Uh, uh, uh. That’s what I thought. Now, get the fuck outta here and go beg for her forgiveness before I smash your face in again.”

Scotty opens his mouth to speak, but catches your eye first and you shake your head. “Trust me, he’s not kidding. I’d go while I still can.”

He gives you a curt wave, scurrying away from Eddie and back to his– probably now ex-girlfriend– leaving Eddie the room to take his spot.

“What, didn’t get enough of making me miserable at the bar? Gonna ruin my night here, too?”

Eddie only snickers, running his hand through the plastic hair of his wig. “Guess so. Look, I wanna talk to you.”

“Funny, because I really have no desire to speak to you.” Not a true statement, not even close, but he can't know that. “Especially not with so many witnesses.”

“You ashamed of me suddenly?”

“Can’t be ashamed of something I have no involvement with.” You deadpan, staring uncomfortably into his eyes. He skipped the contacts to match Spike’s ice blue eyes, instead looking back with his own chocolate brown ones that always make you softer.

“Okay, somewhere private then?”

“Not tonight, please. I just wanna have a good time with my friends, I really don’t need you spouting off some bullshit about why I had no right to be upset with you.”

He shakes his head. “Whoa, no, that’s not at all what I was gonna say. You really think I’m that much of an asshole?”

You shrug. “I don’t really think anything. I don’t know you that well, Eddie.”

Your words tug a pout from his lips. “You know me better than anyone else does.”

“Nah, that’s Chris, and believe it or not we don’t share a brain.”

“Chris only knows what I tell him. You know me like the back of your own hand, even if you don’t realize it. You know the things no one else does.”

It makes you angry, the way he’s talking to you. Standing from the couch, you turn back to look at him. “I used to know you, sure. I knew you when we were kids, but you haven’t been that guy in years. This Eddie, the one in front of me, is not the one I called my best friend.” It hurts to say, hurts worse to watch his face fall as he hears you, really listens to what you’re saying.

“So, that’s it then? You’re just giving up?”

You pretend you can’t hear him, refusing to look back as you walk across the room, the music now a loud buzzing in your brain.

When Robin catches you by your still sore hand, you flinch. “Hey,” She’s cautious, letting go and watching as you massage your knuckles. “How did that go?” She nods to where Eddie is, sipping his beer on the couch as a girl in a rather revealing nurse costume sits on the arm next to him.

“About how you’d expect.”

“So, he’s pretending nothing happened?”

You shrug. “He asked to talk somewhere private.”

“And you said no?”

You nod, and she backhands your arm. “Ow! What was that shit for?”

“You need to talk to him, like, now.”

“Or what, Rob?”

“I don’t know exactly, I just know he’s a lot more fragile than he leads on.”

You look at him again, and the girl has migrated into his lap. “Yeah, he seems really worked up over it.”

“He’s still a man, Bee. Sometimes they have a funny way of coping with heartbreak.” You can barely hear her, still watching the pair of them, both so beautiful in low light as she whispers something into his ear, making him laugh. Your chest tightens.

“Yeah, okay, whatever! Can you get me another drink, please?”

“Anything for you, darlin’.” She yanks open the cooler next to her and pulls out a cider, but doesn’t hand it to you yet. “Just, please promise me you aren’t gonna let this ruin your night.”

Sighing, you make a move for the drink but she yanks it out of your reach before you can grab it. “Okay! Fine, I will not let Eddie Munson’s bullshit ruin my night.”

“Good girl,” she hands you the can, “now drink up! I signed us up for karaoke.”

“You what?!”

–

“Alright, my friends!” Steve takes the mic from its stand next to the TV, putting on his best host voice. “We’re about to begin the torture that is late night karaoke. Luckily, it’s Friday night, and most of my neighbors are in this room anyway, so please feel free to suck as badly as you want! First up, we have Robin, who is performing Love Is Embarrassing by Olivia Rodrigo!” With a sweeping gesture, he welcomes Robin to the front of the room and hands the mic off. She stands there, shy suddenly, grasping it in both of her hands as the music starts. Luckily, she’s quick to melt into the music, dancing to the beat until her cue to sing appears on screen behind her.

To show your support, you sing along with her from the side of the crowd, bopping along with a group of girls that seem far too into Robin’s legs to be paying any attention to her voice.

She finishes, and receives a polite applause from the people still watching while others run to put their names on the list. A few more people go first, singing their drunk little hearts out to pop anthems, one obscure enough metal song, and Steve’s eerily close version of Djo’s End of Beginning before once again taking the mic to announce the next performer.

“Now, this one is one of my personal favorites. She doesn’t come to these parties often, but when she does you know you’re in for a treat! Please join me in welcoming my best friend Bee, and her rendition of Dead Horse by Hayley Williams!” He beckons you with his hand to the front, waving you forward like he’s bending the wind. You groan as Robin shakes you by the shoulders, trudging to the front of his living room like you have weights tied to your ankles. Steve presses the button to start the song, and you close your eyes to center yourself. You’re feeling relatively buzzed, safe enough to perform in front of these other drunk people, but when you open your eyes you’re immediately greeted with the one reason you didn’t want to be the center of attention.

Eddie has moved from his spot on the couch, no longer attached to the sexy nurse, now standing in the corner sipping what has to be his fifth beer while Gareth nods to the music beside him. He’s focusing on you, eyes unmoving as you sway along to the intro of the song. You challenge him, forcing yourself to look directly at him as you sing,

“Every mornin’ I wake up from a dream of you holding me

Underwater.

Is that a dream or a memory?

Held my breath for a decade, dyed my hair blue to match my lips.

Cool of me to try,

Pretty cool, I’m still alive.”

You start to groove, losing yourself in the words of your favorite artist. By the end, you’re full on dancing, having grabbed Robin by the hand and yanking her into your orbit to dance with you, and she does. For three minutes, you’re having fun with your friends, Steve joining you in the “Ya, ya, ya, ya”s at the end of the song. When you finish, you take both of their hands and force them to bow with you, and the room floods with whistles and cheers. When you find the spot where Eddie was standing, Gareth is standing there clapping for you, but his taller friend is nowhere to be found.

“Okay, it looks like we have a new sign up!” Steve brings your attention back to him. He’s holding the sign up sheet that’s just been handed to him. “Oh, you guys are in for it now. Everyone, help me welcome one of the most talented musicians I know up here, and the kid you all wish you were nice to in high school, Eddie Munson!” The applause is scattered, hesitant, and you groan as he takes center floor. He’s removed the wig, his unruly curls tied in a low ponytail on his neck, still decked in the trench coat and combat boots.

“Thanks, Stevie. No originals tonight, we charge extra for that. Instead, I’d like to sing a cover of one of my favorite songs, and something vastly different from what you’re probably expecting.” The song begins, and you can immediately recognize where this is going. You can’t help but watch, though, despite desperately wishing you’d left the room.

“You’re cold,

Like a stone,

How did you get that way?

How did you get that way?”

The song builds, and Eddie grows with it, voice becoming hoarse as the singing becomes more desperate. It’s a song you know, a favorite of yours even, and you don’t remember telling Eddie that. He’s singing to you, and anyone with eyes has noticed the way his eyes bore into you.

“This is bullshit.” You mumble, not meaning for Robin and Steve to hear, and make your exit onto the back porch while Eddie still sings,

“There doesn’t have to be a problem

For you to call me, for you to talk to me…”

–

You’re smoking a second cigarette when the screen door slides open behind you. “Got a light?”

You refuse to turn around, instead thrusting your lighter out behind you for him to take. He does, and you hear it flick a few times before he lights his own cigarette and hands it back to you. “You got some pipes on you. How come I never knew that?” Eddie steps to lean on the railing, and you move just far enough away so his shoulder doesn’t brush yours. “Woulda asked you to sing back up for me years ago.” You can’t help the scoff that comes out in response. “What makes you think I’d want to do that?”

“Nothing, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have tried to convince you. You’re good, Bee. I mean it.”

“Yeah, when I’m drunk, maybe. Only time you’ll ever see me singing for other people.”

He chuckles, taking another drag from his cigarette and ashing it over the ground. “You got a minute to indulge me in conversation? Or are you still avoiding me like I sent your brother to prison?” He has the balls to giggle as he asks it.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“I’ve been told. Is that a yes?”

“Not really! Why would you wanna talk now? Aren’t you drunk?”

He nods. “Obviously. That’s what it takes to get more than a glare from you. I just wanna apologize for the night at the bar. I know what I said wasn’t cool, I just… figured you could use a break, I guess.”

You take a beat to collect your thoughts the best you can, stalling as you bring the cigarette back up to your lips. Finally, you respond, “You were being a dick.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He tries to meet your eyes, but you stare straight ahead into the night. “What happened to your hand?” He nods at the hand closest to him, bruises yellowing as they heal.

“Punched a wall.”

“The wall deserve it?” He nudges your arm with his.

“No, it was just all I had available.”

“Right. You picture me instead?”

No. You just needed to feel something physical, instead of the ache in your heart. “Would that shut you up?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then no, honestly. Just… needed to distract myself.”

“Bee,” He lowers his voice, like he’s afraid of being overheard. “Please, tell me what’s going on. I wanna help.”

“Eddie, leave it alone. There is nothing you can do to fix the way I feel. It’s been this way for as long as you and Chris have been friends. You guys have been a team since we were kids, since Chris dropped me and took you under his wing in my place because I was just his little sister. You both replaced me with each other, and clearly those years away haven’t changed that. I’m still Chris’s 'little sister,' a nuisance you’re forced to entertain until you just can’t put up with me anymore. Right? I’m right, aren’t I?”

Your question is met first with silence, Eddie tossing the butt of his cigarette into the lawn below before he turns his body to face you. “You could not be more wrong.”

“Enlighten me, then! What makes me so repulsive to you that, even after everything, you can’t just be on my side?”

“I am on your side!”

“No, you’re not! You’re hanging out with me out of pity, or fucking guilt. You have no actual desire to be my friend, you want to clean your slate so you and Chris can get back to doing whatever it is you guys do without me.” The cracks in your voice as you speak piss you off, and you have to swat at the tears forming in your eyes before they fall. “I don’t want your pity. I don’t need you walking on eggshells around me because you can’t accept what you did. I have every right to hate you, and I don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to understand that.”

“Just tell me you hate me, then.”

You force yourself to look at him, meeting his own tear-filled eyes with yours. “I can’t. I don’t know why, but I still want you in my life. Even after everything. I just want you to want that, too.”

He doesn’t say anything, but takes your hurt hand in his own rough one, thumb stroking calming circles over the space between your thumb and pointer finger. “I don’t know how to do this. I’m not usually the type to fight for someone. I’m used to people leaving. I don’t really… know how to ask you to stay.” He’s talking to your entwined hands, not able to bring his eyes up. “I probably don’t deserve it. But I do know, more than anything, that I want you in my life. However much you’ll allow.”

And how are you supposed to say no to that? He brings your knuckles to his lips, placing a tender kiss on the worst of your bruises. “But, if you say the word, I’ll go. I won’t beg, I won’t make it any harder than it has to be. Just tell me now, to my face, that you don’t want me.”

You don’t. Whether it’s the liquor, the weed, or just pure adrenaline, you’re not sure, but you let it take over, stepping towards Eddie as he releases your hand, and wrap your arms around his neck. He hesitantly places his own on your waist and you fall into his grip, burying your head in the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around you fully, tightly, like he’s scared you’ll disappear.

“Please don’t. I don’t think I can handle you leaving again. Just give me some time.”

Eddie rubs your back soothingly, and you let the tears fall silently, though he can probably feel your ragged breaths. “‘M not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

–

The rest of the party is spent in better spirits. You converse with old friends over drinks, shouting to accommodate for the loud music still flooding the house. Eddie is practically glued to you, arm around your shoulders as you talk with your hands to someone you used to have class with.

“So, how long have you guys been dating? I know you were friends in high school, but I didn’t think you were together!” Her name is Suzie, or something. You had biology with her your freshman year, and she remembers Eddie from his general reputation.

“Oh, we’re not together.” You stifle an awkward laugh, and pretend to miss the way Eddie’s face falls the tiniest bit. “Just uh, friends.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume anything. You guys just seem so inseparable.”

“You’d be surprised.” Eddie quips, and maybe-Suzie makes an “Ah,” noise, like she’s been there before.

“Alright, everyone. That time of night has come,” Steve has taken it upon himself to kick his guests out. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here! It was lovely seeing you all, but get to goin’! Really not in the mood to hear shit from the landlord about cars parked on the lawn. If you do not have a safe ride home, please come talk to me so we can get you set up with an Uber!” He flings his door open, and wishes everyone a good night as they file out. Your old classmate gives you a wave, and makes her own way to the door.

“Be honest, you have any idea who that was?” You turn to ask Eddie.

He shakes his head. “Not a clue. Made me wanna pretend we were dating just to make it interesting.”

You frown at him. “Don’t push it, Munson.”

He raises his hands up in surrender, and you already miss the warmth of his arm around you. “Sorry, sorry. No pushing.”

“Hey, love birds!” Robin shouts from the living room, and you groan as Eddie beams at her. “Clean up crew starts in fifteen minutes, so get your shit in order before then, yeah?”

“Sir yes sir!” You mock, and Eddie throws his elbow out to salute her. She snorts, rolling her eyes before saying, “It is unbelievable how stupid both of you are.”

You think you know what she’s implying, but one look at Eddie shoes he has no clue. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. She just says shit.” You will yourself to move, pushing up from the couch before offering Eddie your hand. “C’mon, let’s go put this disaster back together, huh?”

And he takes your hand, using it as leverage to get off the couch. “Lead the way.”

51 notes · View notes

children-of-the-grave · 5 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XXVI: Can't Call You A Stranger

songs for this chapter: it will come back by hozier, black butterflies and deja vu by the maine, my favorite color by citizen, tell me how by paramore, your one way street by anxious

chapter summary: another day spent with your... friend? Eddie?

chapter tags: (dream) smut, f!masturbation, post nut (un?)clarity, swearing/adult language, adult behaviors, these two cannot help being vulgar i’m sorry!, more angst!, but also fluff! cigarettes, weed, drinking, perv!Eddie continues. | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

a/n: fun fact the way bee found paramore is actually the way I found paramore. A little personal lore for u.

–--

You gather the strength to look down. Your legs are draped over his shoulders, giving him better access to your cunt. With each swipe of his tongue you’re shivering, whining, arching towards him. His eyes meet yours at the same time he slips his middle finger inside you. You can’t help the noises that escape your throat as he curls his digit, stroking that sweet, soft spot you have such a hard time reaching.

The fire pit is unlit beside you, the stars your only source of light. You just now register you’re at Eddie’s secret spot, in the middle of Hawkins Forest. The crickets’ chirps are barely audible over the sounds Eddie’s drawing from you, from between your legs. In response to your begging, Eddie slips his ring finger in to meet the first, curling them in such a way that has you shuddering beneath him in seconds. “Eddie, Eddie… Fuck, please don’t stop.” The words feel heavy in your mouth, and you can feel your orgasm peaking, legs shaking on either side of his head, screaming his name into the otherwise silent night, scaring the local woodland creatures, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” Until you’re pushing his head away from the oversensitivity.

–

You wake up with your pillow between your thighs, damp from sweat or your unconscious release, you’re not sure. “Oh, what the fuck.” You groan, kicking the pillow to the floor in disgust. The dream is fuzzy now, but the knot beneath your navel still throbs with the memory. You grab your phone and look at the time: 10:30. “Shit.” Eddie said he’d be over by noon. Eddie. The person you just had a second wet dream about.

“There’s no way he’ll be on time though, right?” You say aloud, into the strangely humid air of your bedroom. Before anything, you need a shower. A freezing cold, mind cleansing, nerve jolting shower. After having to dig through the hallway closet for a clean towel, you scurry into the bathroom, praying your brother hadn’t had the unfortunate luck of hearing any possible sleep noises you had probably definitely made.

Setting the temperature as cold as you can stand and discarding your shirt and panties, you shuffle your playlist and step into the tub, instantly fighting the urge to jolt forward at the icy water stinging your skin. Closing your eyes, you focus on the discomfort, begging the images lingering from the night before from your mind; of Eddie between your legs, lapping at your folds like his life had depended on it. “No, fuck, stop it.” You scold yourself, rubbing a cold hand down your somehow still burning face. It doesn’t matter how much soap you use, you’re not scrubbing the thoughts away with force– you’re gonna have to ride it out.

You sigh, cranking the temperature of your shower. The room slowly fills with steam, relaxing your muscles and fogging your sleepy brain.

You slide your hand down your abdomen, crawling past your pubic mound and slipping a finger between your soaked folds, excitement renewed in the humidity. Your head goes limp against the tile wall, eyes squeezed shut as you imagine Eddie’s fingers inside of you instead of your own, thicker and far more skilled. Eventually, you bring yourself to climax, free hand flying to cover your mouth to stifle the moans of Eddie’s name, involuntarily slipping through between huffs and whines of pleasure. Definitely not the best idea to masturbate to the thoughts of the person you’re seeing in an hour, but it’s cleared your head for the moment. You shake your head, amazed at your own ridiculous, filthy fantasy. Way to keep it simple, Bee.

–

“Shit! Shitshitshit– AH!” The exasperations are coming from your living room. You peek around the corner, still wrapped in your towel, where Eddie and Chris are playing video games and tossing chips in their mouths. Clicking your phone screen on, you scoff when the time reads 11:32. He’s not only on time, he’s fucking early. For the first time in probably his entire life.

Then, even worse, you remember: you hadn’t brought your clothes to the bathroom. All you have is your soaked underwear and Eddie’s old t-shirt you hadn’t had the heart to give up. And he cannot see you wearing that, not after yesterday.

Somehow, you come to the conclusion that walking by them in your towel is a better idea. You leave your clothes discarded in the bathroom, and brace yourself for the consequences of your actions.

“Avert your gazes, men, I’m comin’ through!” You announce, giving them one final chance to keep their eyeballs.

“Wh- Oh!” Eddie turns to the direction of your voice, and whips his hand over his eyes. “Uh, mornin’, Bee.”

“Where the hell are your clothes?” Chris teases, mouth full of potato chips.

“Thought I’d make it to my room before he showed up, honestly. He said noon!”

“No, I said by noon. And I didn’t think Chris would be home.” The last bit sounds like a dig, like he’s upset that Chris is here.

“Oh, sorry, do I need to leave you two love birds alone? Don’t worry, my shift starts in thirty. I’ll go now, but they better not expect me to be on time ever again.”

“Where are you even working, dude?”

“The Hideout.”

“The bar your mother owns.”

“Yeah, she still docks me for tardiness!”

“Good! You should be working day and night for that woman. She shouldn’t even be paying you!”

You snort, and Chris throws you a threatening glare. “What? He’s right, you’ve given Mom hell your whole life.”

“Good thing she has you to keep her fuckin’ sane.”

“Whoa, wait,” Eddie tries to interject.

“Shut up, Ed. Enjoy your… date. Or whatever the fuck you two aren’t telling me about. I’m goin’ to work.” Before you can argue, he’s thrown on his leather jacket and stomped out the door, slamming it behind him.

“Did I hit a nerve?” Eddie turns from the door to look at you, still wrapped in a far too revealing towel. You shrug. Chris had pushed you to talk to Eddie, and now he’s pissed at you for doing exactly that. “You, uh… gonna get dressed? Not that I’m complaining or anything, I just don’t see that being super comfortable for very long.

He cackles as you roll your eyes, finally retreating to your room to get dressed. You decide on a cropped t-shirt, and a pair of spandex shorts that will let you clean your apartment without overheating.

“Since when are you punctual?” You call, throwing an oversized hoodie over yourself. “I remember you being consistently late in high school, and every day after.”

“Can’t a guy be excited to help a lady with some household chores?” His response is said through a mouthful of chips. “Besides, nothing entertaining goin’ on at home, I think Ethel’s sick of me.”

“I would be too, with my only roommate stinking the whole apartment up with weed.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I make sure she’s out of the room when I smoke. And I keep the window open.” His voice migrates closer, and he leans patiently against your doorframe waiting for you to emerge from the bedroom. “Speaking of, you wanna pre-clean smoke? I find it helps me focus on the task at hand.”

You cock a skeptical eyebrow at him. “I have a really hard time believing smoking weed helps you do anything but melt into the furniture.” You toss some stray pieces of clothing into your laundry hamper, already overflowing with work shirts and the jeans you’d worn all week. “I’ll reward myself with some afterwards, though!” You offer, which seems to perk the pout that had settled on his lips. “C’mon, machines are in the basement.”

–

With the laundry started, you make work of cleaning the rest of your bedroom. Mostly, you have shit to unpack and put away, something your executive dysfunction hasn’t allowed you to do just yet. With Eddie here, though, you find it much easier to stay on task, meticulously unpacking the remainder of your boxes, and finding places for everything. Without offering, Eddie has unpacked a few himself, turning to you every few moments to ask where you want something.

“Oh, my god. Bee, what the fuck?” Eddie is peering into a box with MEMORIES scrawled across it in sharpie. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“What?” You place your dusty record player on top of your bookshelf before approaching, joining him in inspecting the box. Inside is your old Dungeons and Dragons notebook and character sheets, acrylic paints in every possible color, and a few sets of dice. However, you know exactly what he’s referring to before he pulls it from the box: The figurine he’d painted for you in middle school. It’s a princess, painted cobalt blue and gold, with a tiny crown on her head. The details have held up over the years, her facial features pristine and weirdly similar to your own.

“Of course I do, I don't just get rid of the nicest thing anyone’s ever made for me!” You mock offense as you snatch the figure from his fingers. “Majesty will reside at my bedside, and she shall watch over whilst I slumber.” You giggle, and Eddie rolls his eyes at your dramatics as you carefully place the princess on your bedside table. “There. Perfect.” You turn back to face Eddie, catching the way his lips twitch upward at your antics. “You wanna put some music on?”

He nods, and you hand him your phone already loaded with your playlists.

“Crap, crap, major crap…” Eddie scrolls through your library, hurling the insult at you between groans and grunts of disappointment.

“Okay, never mind. Asshole.”

“I’m kidding! I promise, you definitely don’t have the worst taste of my friends. I caught Steve listening to Imagine Dragons the other day.”

You can't help but snort, picturing Steve jamming out to Believer in his bedroom while Eddie sneaks up behind him. “Well, we both know Steve isn’t super picky about his music.”

Eddie shrugs, agreeing. “Ah! This is a great one.” He pokes the screen, and music begins to flood through your bluetooth speaker. It’s an interesting choice for him, definitely not the route you’d expect him to take.

“The Maine? Really?”

“Yeah, they remind me of summer, and it’s fuckin’ cold out today.” He cranks the volume a bit, swaying along to the music while you organize your dresser. It’s when Eddie goes to pick up your previously discarded pillow that you snap to your senses. “Don’t touch that!” You forgot to strip your bed. The bed Eddie has made his way to the end of, perched precariously at the foot, looking at you with startled, wide eyes, your soiled pillow in his big hands.

“What?!” Eddie lets it drop to the floor, matching the panic in your voice. “You got bed bugs or something?”

“No! No, nothing like that. Just, it’s probably really sweaty! I run hot when I sleep.” You snatch the pillow from the floor and yank its satin case off. Luckily, there is no visible damage, but your heart rate still has yet to return to normal.

“Uh huh. Okay. Sure.” Eddie exaggerates each word, nodding emphatically like you’ve told him the most interesting thing in the world. The song has changed to something far less summer-feeling, an angry guitar charging through your bones as it shakes the walls. “Oof, this song is awesome. Who is it?” He’s not kidding, you can hear the sincerity in his voice.

“Citizen. It’s called My Favorite Color. One of the best songs on this album.” You nod your head to the song, that angsty emo headbang you’ve perfected over the years. Meanwhile, Eddie seems to hone in on the lyrics, face morphing as he focuses on the way Mat Kerekes enunciates each word.

“Shit, can’t believe I haven’t heard these guys before. You got any more recommendations?”

You beam, dropping down next to him at the foot of your bed. “From Citizen? Or in general.”

“In general. I know Paramore already, though, you’ve liked them since you were, what, ten?”

“Eight. When we watched Twilight for the first time. I bought the soundtrack right after, and haven't looked back since!” Usually, when you start talking about your interests, the ones you’re speaking to tend to tune out when they have nothing to add. Eddie, though, is eagerly engaged with what you’re saying, asking about your favorite songs and albums like he’s studying for a test on the subject.

“Okay, so, I know Riot is like the album for them. But what’s your favorite?”

“Oh, easy. After Laughter.”

“The synth pop one? Seriously?”

“You don’t get it. That album has some of the realest, most devastating songs on it. You ever sat down and just listened to Fake Happy? Or 26? Tell Me How?!” You rattle off in excitement, and Eddie just keeps listening to you. There is no underlying self consciousness about geeking out, you feel secure in your obsession, and sharing it with Eddie. “When you go home, put your headphones on and listen to it. Front to back. Text me with your thoughts.”

“Yes, maam.” He salutes you, and you whack him on the arm with a scoff.

“You’ll thank me.”

“I’m sure.”

–

“Pizza or burritos?” You scroll through your delivery app, debating on dinner.

“Hm… Burrito. Definitely.” Eddie takes another puff of the joint and passes it to you. Your apartment is only slightly tidier than it was when you’d started, but you figure it’s time for a lunch break. You pluck the joint from Eddie’s fingers and inhale, agreeing and clicking on the Mexican restaurant to order food.

“I’ll be right back. Gotta take a leak.” Eddie shoves himself from the sofa.

“Lovely.”

“I know, I’m quite the gentleman.” He slides into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You check the time, noting that your first load of laundry will be almost done soon. It’s then that you remember the shirt and underwear in your bathroom, on the floor next to your tub. The bathroom that Eddie is currently using.

“Shit.” An exclamation only meant for you, but Eddie has already emerged from behind the door.

“What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing! Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay…” He trails off as he sits back down on the couch. “Anyway, you wanna watch something while we wait?” He already has the remote in his hand.

“Yeah, you can choose. I’ll be right back.” And you power walk to the bathroom before he can question you. The shirt is still in the corner, turned inside out, and thankfully covering the pair of bright pink panties you’d just die if Eddie had caught sight of. You snatch it from the floor and shake it. Nothing falls out of the shirt, so you flip it right side in, revealing the faded logo of a band you and Eddie had gone to see live. Nothing else separates from the fabric, your panties are gone. Nowhere to be found.

“What the fuck.”

–

You’re folding your laundry with laser focus when there's a knock on your apartment door. Eddie rises from the couch, snapping you from the task in front of you just in time to see the flash of pink in his back pocket. You squint as he flings the door open to retrieve the food, thanking the delivery driver with a cash tip on top of the one you’d already added to the order.

It’s your underwear. You’re almost certain, the only doubt stemming from the reasoning for it. Why would he steal them in the first place?

He pivots to face you, catching you staring at his ass. “Like what you see?”

You take a split second to debate your next move. “I mean, kinda. I bought them.” You cross your arms over your chest, a challenge.

Eddie freezes in place, the paper take-out bag clenched in his fist like a lifeline. “I–”

“The burritos, Eddie?” You reach your arm out, and Eddie visibly relaxes. Interesting.

“Right, yeah. Your highness.” He hands you the bag before rushing into the kitchen, busying himself grabbing plates and napkins from your cabinets. You decide against bringing it up directly. Not like it will accomplish anything. Instead, you turn back to the TV, still not paying attention to the titles flashing across the screen as you scroll.

When Eddie returns, he sits on the other end of the couch, placing his plate precariously on the arm, body twisted uncomfortably as if trying to take up as little space as possible.

“What are you doing?” You question, nodding your head at his posture. “Looks super uncomfortable.”

“I’m good. Perfectly fine.” He readjusts, wincing.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, looks like it.” You click on a movie without thinking, and nestle into the couch as the title sequence rolls. “Get over here, stupid.” You wave your hand at him until he obeys, slowly moving away from the corner to sit on the cushion next to you. Your knee knocks into his as you lean forward to take another bite, and you can feel his eyes boring into the side of your head.

You still have a few hours before you have to get ready for work, and with the way Eddie has been acting, you need to fill that time with something to distract the both of you. “What are you gonna be for Halloween?” You ask him, daring to turn your body to his, nudging him with your legs as you do. “Think it’s only fair you tell me, since you helped me pick out my costume.”

“I was thinking, maybe a vampire. Not a dorky Dracula vampire, though. More of a Spike.”

“Like, as in Buffy the Vampire Slayer Spike?” You perk up. “I fuckin’ love that show.”

He nods, suddenly enthusiastic. “Me, too. My mom watched it all the time when I was a kid, she used to let me stay up late to watch with her sometimes. I was obsessed with it for awhile.”

It kills you a little. You have so much in common, even now. “You should do it. But only if you wear the coat.”

Eddie snickers. “Would you believe I just have one in my wardrobe already?”

“Yeah, actually. Without question.” You turn back to the TV, quickly scrolling through your recently watched and finding what you’re looking for: Season two, episode three: School Hard.

–

“You hangin’ out?” You ask as Eddie pulls up to the curb of The Hideout.

“Chris still in there?”

Through the bar window, you see him mixing drinks for a group of middle aged ladies. “Looks like it, why?”

“After his weird outburst this morning, I better give you two some space. Text me if you want a ride home though, okay?” You nod, and he waves before throwing his van back into gear, tires screeching as he pulls away from the sidewalk.

Inside, rock music blasts through the overhead speakers, patrons are drinking and laughing in the booths as others dance on the sticky wooden floor. It must be someone’s birthday, because there’s no other reason for the bar to be this busy on a Monday.

“Hey, honey!” Your mom calls, stepping out of the back office with her phone against her ear. “Really need you on the bar, just got a call that the other half of this bachelorette party is coming in ten.” She clicks her phone off, shoving it into her back pocket before grabbing the rag and spray to wipe down the tables.

“Bachelorette party on a monday night in Hawkins? Their car break down or something?”

Your mom shrugs. “Guess they used to come here in their twenties, wanted to reminisce. Apparently this is her third marriage.” You follow your eyes to where your mom is watching the women slam down tequila shots in the back booth, squealing with excitement when the Bride to Be grabs an extra lime.

“I hope to be that excited about life at forty.” You muse, making your mother snort. “They know this isn’t a strip club, right?”

“Yeah, of course. They did, however, ask us if the band was playing tonight.”

Your smile is wiped from your face. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them they’ll be here tomorrow, if they wanna come back we’d comp their first round.”

You sigh, relieved. “Thank god.”

“Didn’t you hang out with Eddie today, though?” What the fuck.

“Did Chris tell you?”

“He came in all pissed off. I practically forced it out of him, though.”

“What’s his problem, did he tell you?” You glance to where your brother is, bussing the tables not currently in use to make room for more rowdy women to come.

“I can only infer, he didn’t give me much to work with.”

“Okay, what do you infer?” If one thing’s true about your mother, she’s always been of sound logic.

“I think your brother is jealous of the time you’re spending with Eddie.”

It gives you pause. “He wanted me to spend time with Eddie!”

“Yeah, I get that. But he probably wanted to spend time with both of you, too.” Before she can explain, a lady with a bob that could cut glass waves her over to order another martini, leaving you to think about her suggestion.

She might be right, you haven’t spent too much time with Chris since he’s been home, but it’s not like he’s made much of an effort to hang out with you, either. It’s been parties and gatherings for the last couple of weeks, forcing you to be around Chris the popular guy, instead of Chris the older brother.

–

Chris leaves before close, without so much as a wave before shoving the door open, cigarette already between his lips. Without much of a plan, you chase him out, catching him outside the bar shielding himself from the wind so he can light his cigarette. You approach him quietly, reaching your hand to help cover the flame, and he looks up at you, startled before registering it’s you.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, the stick bobbing between his lips. He removes it, blowing smoke away from your face and offers it out to you. Plucking it with two fingers, you bring it to your lips and inhale, the nicotine rushing to your head, making it buzz.

“Can you tell me what happened this morning?” You hand his cig back to him.

“I saw you talkin’ to Mom, figure you already know?”

“Wanna hear it from you, though. Don’t love it when my brother’s pissed at me.”

He sighs, taking another drag before speaking. “I’m not pissed at you, Bee.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I just… It’s weird being home. You’re all grown up, and I missed it. I missed the last six years of your life, I missed your college graduation for fuck’s sake. And now you’re hanging out with the kid that you couldn’t stand to think about, and I should be happy for you. I am happy for you! You deserve to be happy. I wish it wasn’t my fault that you weren’t for so long.” His cigarette is burning between his fingers as he talks, and you snatch it from him to tap the ash off, and take another drag. Chris continues, “It feels like you don’t want me around. I found an apartment, I’m goin’ to look at it tomorrow. I dunno if you wanna come with me–”

“Of course I do. Chris, I love having you home. I’m sorry I’m doing such a piss poor job of showing you that, it’s been so weird for me too. I thought you wanted Eddie and I to get along, I was trying for you.”

He shakes his head. “I love that you two don’t hate each other, don’t get me wrong. But I’m jealous. I know I shouldn’t be, and I know you felt the same way when we were kids and I hung out with him instead of you. I never claimed to be reasonable.” He chuckles sadly, and takes his cigarette back. “I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous.”

You shake your head. “I get it. How about this; tomorrow, until we inevitably have to come in for the Corroded Coffin show, we spend it together. We go look at this new place and make sure it’s exactly what you want. And if it isn’t I don’t mind having you eat my food and sleep in my spare bedroom until we find something you do like. Sound good?”

Chris laughs at the way you’re talking, just like your mother: cool, calm, and collected. “Sounds perfect.”

–

Chris ends up staying until your shift is over.

“You need a ride home?” He spins his key ring around on his finger, waiting for you to finish counting the drawer.

“Yeah, that would be great. Let me just let my original ride know I’m good.”

“Eddie?”

You look for signs of anger, but Chris is smiling as he asks you. “Yeah, he dropped me off.” You unlock your phone and quickly type the message out:

>hey! chris is driving me home, thanks for the offer tho : )

Your phone dings a couple seconds later:

Eddie (block later): ok! you guys talk?

> yeah, all good. Eddie (block later): good im glad. will i see u at the gig tmr? > ill be there with bells on. and probs my apron. Eddie (block later) cant wait : )

Your phone buzzes again, with a photo attachment from him:

Eddie (block later): found the jacket btw.

It’s a picture Eddie’s taken in his bedroom mirror, wearing the jacket, which is ankle length, trench style but made entirely of leather. It is just like the one Spike wears in the show.

>where tf did u even get that thing?! Eddie (block later): thrifted it years ago, i try to save it for special occasions tho >its sick, cant wait to see the costume! Eddie (block later): : )

–

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children-of-the-grave · 5 months ago

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totk/botw tattoo 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

#zelda #totk #botw #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #the legend of zelda #link #korok #master sword #tloz

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children-of-the-grave · 5 months ago

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Bobby, I know I do dumb things sometimes and generally drive you crazy. You’re an important person in my life, Bobby. One of the most important.

#ow ow fuck ow #911

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children-of-the-grave · 5 months ago

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Music video painting studies of some of my favorite Clancy songs ❤️💛 |-/

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children-of-the-grave · 5 months ago

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Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XIV: Sharing Beds like Little Kids

songs for this chapter: my friend by hayley williams, hold me like a grudge by fall out boy, ribs by lorde

summary: of course, your best friends are throwing a party before the party. of course, you have to go! what happens at that party, however, has nothing to do with you.

a/n: this one’s a little long idk what got into me i must be ovulating. Chapter 15 is already 1/3 written so. uh. buckle up!

chapter tags: raunchiness, adult language and behavior, drinking, drugs (weed), swearing, LORE DROP!!, dialogue heavy, slightly perv!eddie, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn-y (the fire is catching!!) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

disclaimer: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. THIS WORK IS BEING REPOSTED TO MY NEW AO3! Feel free to check it out! Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. I am satiated by reblogs and comments, so please! Interact with my work! It motivates me to write more, and it helps to know someone out there is reading.

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

It isn’t until Friday that you see Eddie again, not that you’re keeping track. You’d sent pointless texts back and forth, usually receiving pictures of Ethel in exchange for a picture of a stupid bumper sticker you thought he’d laugh at. Not that you’re trying to make him laugh.

You pull into the parking lot behind Steve and Robin’s apartment, cutting the engine and abruptly stopping the music blaring through your speakers. You haul yourself and a twenty pound backpack up the six flights of stairs, following the muffled sounds of your friends’ erratic voices, barely decipherable under the music playing from the television.

“Bee’s here!” Robin calls before throwing the front door open, a red solo cup in her hand as the music floods your senses. “Hello, my prettiest friend.” She greets, playfully kissing each of your cheeks.

“Oh, no. What did Steve do?” You giggle at her tipsy smile, glossy eyes. You’re painfully sober, having to drive yourself over. Luckily, you’d been invited to stay the night.

“He bet me I couldn’t chug an entire can of Bud Light.” She hiccups.

“Rob, you hate beer.”

She nods, gleeful. “That’s why I did it.”

“How much did you win?”

Her smile falters. “Twenty bucks.”

You burst into giggles as Steve invades the space over her shoulder. “Hi, Bee!”

“Hey, loser.” You take the cup he offers you that smells too strongly of vodka. “Please don’t tell me you made this.”

“Nah, but I feel like if I tell you who did you’ll hit me.” You focus over his shoulder, where Eddie is mixing a second drink for himself. “If it makes you feel any better, I told him it was for you and he got right to work. Seemed like he knew what he was doing.”

You sip the drink hesitantly, the liquor pleasantly burning as it glides down your throat, sweetened with Sprite and grenadine. “Dirty shirley.” You nod approvingly. “Maybe I should be a little nicer.” You take another sip, and can tell instantly that it’s a heavy pour. “Don’t let him make all my drinks, though. I might need to get my stomach pumped.” You make your way to the kitchens without a thought, knowing your friends will follow. Eddie is talking to someone, his back to you as he nods enthusiastically at whatever they’re saying, free hand moving in erratic circles while his other clutches his drink. You watch the way his shoulders tense when you step into his personal space, and feel the slightest bit smug about it. He still hasn’t looked at you, so you take another step forward, landing yourself barely an inch away from your chin landing on his shoulder.

“Hi, Bee.” Eddie chides, angling his body to invite you into the conversation with the other boy in front of him, who you can now see is Jeff.

“Hi.” You bare your teeth in what you hope is a grin before taking another sip of your drink, shuddering as it slides down your throat.

“Jeff, y’mind if I–” He tilts his head to indicate his wish to exit. Jeff nods, and you catch the way his eyes roll at his friend.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to like, steal you. You coulda finished your conversation.”

Eddie shakes his head, and you can tell he’s tipsy by the way he’s smiling at you; widely enough that his eyes crinkle at the corners, his top teeth ever so slightly resting on his bottom lip. “I’d rather be conversing with you anyway.” The words slide through your skull. You feel warm. “So?”

“Hm?” You have forgotten exactly what it was you came over here for. You can feel your friends’ eyes still on you, ten feet behind and probably trying to read your lips.

“What did you wanna talk about?”

“Oh, um,” God, what was it? “I wanna buy some weed.”

He blinks at you. “What?”

“You do… sell weed? Right? Sorry, am I supposed to be using, like, code words?” You have no desire, or frankly any cash, to buy weed from Eddie.

He answers with a timid laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I, uh, haven’t in awhile. I mean I have some on me, but you don’t have to, like, pay for it.”

“Do I have to smoke it with you?” You don’t mean it to sound rude, and you wince at the way it comes out. “Because I wouldn’t mind doing that, either.”

Before Eddie can respond, Steve is shouting at you from across the room. “Bee, c’mon! We’re about to play truth or dare! You too, Ed, let’s go!”

“Are we in fucking high school?”

“No, silly! We’re playing the adult version!” He’s dragging the drink cooler over to the kitchen table before you can ask what that means.

“The game is simple,” Robin starts, her usual goofy disposition gone, replaced with an absurd sense of authority. “You ask someone, truth or dare. They can either: complete the challenge, or opt to take a mystery drink,” She motions to the massive Igloo cooler, which Steve opens for dramatic effect. “In here, I have curated a collection of random alcoholic beverages from the crevices of this party. If you cannot complete the truth or dare requested of you, you may only avoid punishment by chugging whatever you pull from the cooler of DEATH!” She stops, expecting a collective gasp that never comes. “First person to puke has to clean up tomorrow.” She adds, which starts the group of you panicking.

There are eight of you playing: Steve, Robin, Eddie, you, Gareth, Jeff, Nancy, and Jonathan; the last two of which you have only just noticed are here. You form a circle around the kitchen table, where other party goers have crowded to watch the inevitable drama unfold. One thing remains true about Steve and Robin, they know how to have fun.

“Let the game begin!” Robin claps her hands together before spinning an empty beer bottle on the hardwood table. It lands on Nancy, causing Robin’s gaze to shift downward, mischief shining in her eyes. “Nancy Wheeler. Truth or dare?”

Nancy is a beautiful girl, you can’t argue with that. Everyone that went to high school with you would agree, knowing Nancy as the whip smart, criminally beautiful girl next door. Since graduating, though, you’d lost most contact with her. She’d gone to Emerson, and from the town gossip you know she’s still the top of her class, but beyond that you have no idea what she’s like. Maybe the game will answer a few of those gaps.

“Truth.” So she’s still one to play it safe?

“Boooring!” Robin fakes a yawn. “Fine. What is your deepest regret from your time in college?” Nancy’s eyes widen at her friend’s question, and you think she’s gonna chicken out.

“I’d have to say…” She looks away, tapping her finger against her chin mockingly, and you giggle. “Not getting to have the usual, y’know, college experience.” She emphasizes the words. Are you supposed to know what she’s talking about.

“Would you care to elaborate on that?”

“The rules don’t say I have to!” Nancy exclaims, but Robin won’t take no for an answer.

“C’mon, you’re no fun!”

“I wish I got to–” She glances at her boyfriend, who’s picking at the label of his beer. “Ugh, roll me the cooler.”

Robin snorts, shaking her head. You look from where Nancy is blushing profusely, to Steve who is sitting there, head cocked to the side. “What the hell are you even–” Nancy darts her eyes from Steve to Robin, and Steve seems to catch on. You watch as his face contorts from confused to enlightened. “Oh! You wanted to have sex with a woman!”

“Steve!” Nancy, Robin, and you all exclaim in unison, begging the boy to shut up.

“What?!”

“Oh my god will someone just go?” Nancy cracks open a cider, and you envy her luck of the draw. As she chugs it, Steve reaches for the bottle and gives it a spin. It eventually slows, and lands on you.

“Shit.”

“My precious Bee,” Steve twiddles his fingers together, a menacing glint in his eye. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm,” You have no idea what to expect from Steve. He’s been your best friend for years, he was there for you when Eddie left, when your brother was sentenced. He’s never been anything but kind, there’s no way he’d betray you now, right? “Dare.”

“I dare you to sit on Eddie’s lap.” He doesn’t even have to think about it, he had that one locked and loaded.

“Wait, what?” You sputter, whipping your head to look at where Eddie is sitting across from you. His eyes have widened with Steve’s outburst, his cheeks far more pink than his drunkenness would call for. “I can’t just do that, he has to consent!” Aha, you’ve wiggled out of this one.

“I consent!” Eddie smacks his hand on the table. “It’s cool with me.”

You could just drink. You could escape all of this with a quick gulp of… something. But your vision is already blurred at the edges, and your head feels too light to be attached to your neck. So sitting in Eddie’s lap will have to be it.

“You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo, Steve.” You can assume why he’d do something like this. He’s bored. He’s single, and he’s horny, and he wants to torture you. Makes perfect fucking sense. You push yourself from your chair, dragging it across the floor for dramatic effect before circling the table and approaching Eddie. He accommodates you, pushing the chair back and uncrossing his legs before patting his lap playfully. “Your throne awaits.”

“I hate you. Both of you.” You try to place yourself on the edge of his knee, clenching your core to hold your posture, but Eddie isn’t having it. Before you can protest, he’s laced his fingers across your abdomen, and pulls you snugly into his lap. “Get cozy, darlin’, you’re here ‘til the next round.” He says it quietly enough that only you can hear him, and his breath smells of vodka and cigarettes. “God knows I’m perfectly comfortable.” You can feel the heat of his breath on your cheek.

“Your turn to spin, Edward., if your boner isn’t too distracting.” Robin taunts, causing you to backhand her. “What? I’m just teasin’.”

“I’ll have you know, Robin, I’m being quite the gentleman.” You can feel his right hand land on your hip, his grip slightly tensing. He’s nervous. With his other hand, he reaches across the table and flicks the bottle, spinning it hard enough to skip a few times on the wood. It lands on Steve, and you feel Eddie relax, his nerves satiated by the ability to return the favor. “Steven. Truth or dare.”

“I might as well take the drink now.” Steve holds out his hand, exasperated.

“Tsk, tsk, that is not how this game works, my friend.”

“Fine, truth.” Steve huffs, the defeat in his voice almost convincing you to feel sorry for him. You shake that thought off immediately when you feel Eddie shift underneath you. Your back is now pressed flush against his chest, and you can feel his heart racing through the layers of cotton and denim between you.

“Would you care to tell the class exactly why you were called King Steve in high school?” It’s not the question you had been expecting. It feels relatively tame, and you’re sure you know the answer. Steve slept around, it was a known fact. You’d watched as he’d take girl after girl out on dates in his nice car, charm the pants off ‘em, rinse, repeat.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Summer. Before freshman year.” Eddie has something up his sleeve, something even you don’t know about.

“Eddie.” You try to be quiet in your warning. “Stop it.”

“Oh, at the lake?” Eddie waits for him to continue. “We were playing capture the flag.” Even in your current state, the memory rushes to the front of your brain.

–

That Summer before High School

“Steve, run!” Chris’s voice cracks as he shrieks across the sand. You had successfully blocked Steve from returning to his home base up until this point, but you were getting tired. “Fake’er out!”

Steve fakes right, and you let him slip through your fingers, the makeshift “flag” in the wind behind him. You lunge for it in vain, but he dodges your feeble attempt, and plants himself within the bounds of his territory.

“Yeah!” Chris cheers from behind you, where Eddie has finally caught up to him, huffing in an attempt to catch his breath. It wasn’t fair, facing Chris and Steve, a track star and a football player, as someone whose athletic ability started and ended with the middle school band, and the little sister that no one really wanted there.

“Okay, fine. You win. Again. King Steve and his fuckin’ jester.” You stick your tongue out, and he flips you off with the hand not clutching the piece of cheap fabric for dear life. Eddie cackles as he approaches you. “God, if that nickname sticks he’s gonna leave us in the dust.”

Steve gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like he’s been stabbed. “I would never!”

–

Fast forward to the second semester of Freshman year, and Steve’s already… different. Sure, he still hangs out with you, but he’s barely acknowledged Eddie since Homecoming. In fact, Eddie’s been drifting further from both of you, instead hanging out more with Chris, as well as some Dungeons and Dragons dweebs from his lunch period.

–

“And then, well, y’know.” Eddie sits back in his chair, and the shift in position has you clenching your thighs together in a panic. Don’t fucking move.

Steve shrugs. “I think I have since made up for who I was in high school, Eddie. It’s your turn, Jon.” Jonathan is shaken out of his haze, flicking his fringe out of his eyes before leaning forward and spinning the bottle. It lands on Jeff. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm, dare.”

Jonathan dares Jeff to take a gravity bong rip, which Jeff accepts. You and your friends cackle when he can’t hold his smoke, sputtering and coughing on the exhale, head shaking with disgust and discomfort. The round ends with everyone having done at least one, and it’s once again Robin’s turn to spin the bottle. When it lands on you, the room seems to stiffen, and you probably could have heard a pin drop if you focused hard enough. “Bee, truth or dare?”

“Have I mentioned today how much I despise you?” You have no real malice in your tone, but she pouts at you anyway.

“Truth.”

“Ugh! Oh for two. Fine, be honest: how uncomfortable are you right now?” She cocks an eyebrow, and you take a beat to think about your answer. Truthfully, you’re not the slightest bit uncomfortable. Physically, you and Eddie seem to fit together, moving in sync without an issue as the game continues. You’re not laser focused on the way his strong legs feel underneath you, or the fact that your ass has been sat on his crotch for at least the last forty five minutes. His hand hasn’t moved from your hip, and he’s been rubbing grounding circles on the sliver of exposed skin above your jeans and below the hem of your shirt. You feel safe, and that information doesn’t even freak you out.

“Hello? You in there, Bee?” You’re dragged from your thoughts, and your gaze shifts from Robin to Eddie, who’s waiting eagerly for your answer, eyes wide and waiting.

You shrug. Because it’s no big deal. “He’s kinda bony, but I’m alright.” You feel him laughing, and you giggle along with him when Robin groans. “Face it, Rob. We’ve just matured so much since the last time we played this game.” You reach over to poke at her, and she shoos you away with a huff.

–

Eventually, the game comes to a natural end, and your friends and acquaintances begin to empty the apartment. You’re left on the couch nursing a water bottle Steve had shoved into your hand about half an hour ago, when you’d mistaken his ficus for a toilet. Now you owe him a ficus. You’ve stripped down to your change of clothes: a pair of satin shorts and a big tee shirt that almost reaches your knees. It’s when he approaches that you thank your past self for stashing the clothes in your backseat, preventing you from being caught with your pants down, literally.

“Mind if I sit?” You look up to find Eddie hovering over you, holding a can of beer in one hand and an unlit joint in the other. You pat the cushion next to you, curling your feet into your body to give him more room. “You doin’ okay? You’re looking a little…” He trails off, searching for a word that isn’t a synonym for “horrible.”

“Sickly? Pale? Greasy? Clammy? I’m sure.”

“I was gonna say tired. You sleepin’ here?”

You nod, then wince at the way your brain pinches with the movement. “Yeah, no way am I in any shape to go home. What about you?”

Eddie nods, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Steve said the floor was all mine. Such a generous guy.”

You are not responsible for what you say next. “You can sleep next to me, if you want.”

He turns his head slowly, like sudden movement would spook you. “What?”

“What, what? There’s plenty of space, this couch takes up the entire damn room.” The couch is massive, with two chaise lounges and a stretch of pillowy cushions in between. It would be a ridiculous thing to own with only two people to use it, but Steve and Robin throw enough ragers to warrant the extra space.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Why would I be fucking with you?”

He can’t find a real answer, so he deflects. “Because I’m so much fun to fuck with, obviously.”

“Whatever. If you wanna be weird and sleep on the uncomfortable, stinky carpet, go right ahead.” You yank the blanket to your chin and turn your back to him. Instead of resigning to the floor, you feel the cushions shift, and dare to peek at the man across from you. You catch him just as he yanks his jeans down, metal clanging as he tosses them to the floor. You gulp when he lifts his shirt over his head, leaving just his boxers clinging to his soft form. For what seems like the hundredth time tonight, you’re squeezing your thighs together.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, and you pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not sleeping.”

“Ugh, how?” You snap, irritated more with yourself than with him.

“Your breathing. It’s too quick, too irregular.”

“I could have been having a nightmare.”

“Nah, you talk in your sleep. I would have known.” You gape at him, though he probably can’t see your flabbergasted expression in the dark.

“You remember that?”

“Bee, I practically lived with you at one point. Of course I do, that shit gave me nightmares!”

You snort, remembering the way Eddie would recap what you’d said while unconscious the night before. “Yeah, I said some weird shit.”

“Some seriously freaky shit.”

“Speaking of, what were you gonna say?”

“Oh, right. I uh, wanted to ask you. About earlier. Was that, like, too weird for you?”

“What, the game?” You play dumb. You don’t know exactly where he’s going, but you have a feeling it’s gonna get way less lighthearted.

“Yeah, I guess. Like, the whole thing. I wouldn’t have held it against you if you didn’t wanna stay sitting there. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable to be around me.” You can’t see him, but you could swear you hear his voice crack with nerves. “I know we were, like, inebriated or whatever, but I still wouldn’t want you to feel like, pressured or–”

“Eddie. It’s okay. You were a perfect gentleman.”

“I wouldn’t say perfect.”

“Oh?” You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. “What do you mean by that?”

A loaded silence follows. Then, after a deep breath, the words drip from his mouth. “I had pictured you in my lap under different circumstances so many times, Bee. It was practically impossible to ground myself.” The pounding in your ears is louder, faster. You can feel it between your legs now, too. “Sorry, too much?”

“No! No, just,” You’re at a loss. How he says these things like it’s nothing, like he’s just shooting the shit with a friend. Casually. “You can’t just say shit like that to me.”

“Why not?” It feels like a challenge.

“Because, Eddie! We aren’t, like, besties. Not anymore! There is so much we still haven’t fucking talked about and you’re talking to me like you’re the same horn dog teenager I knew before shit hit the fan. It feels like you don’t see how badly you hurt me.”

“Of course I know how badly I hurt you, sweetheart. I spent every day for the last six years thinking about what I did. What I should have done. I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing I do now will make up for it, but I am gonna do whatever I can to be honest with you. Fully. From now until you kick me out of your life forever.”

In the safety of the dark, you find yourself confident as you respond. “And that includes your horny thoughts… why?”

“Because I am a twenty something year old man and most of my honesty comes from my dick.”

You cackle despite the growing frustration in your chest. “Okay, I think you’re still too drunk. Time for bed, perv.” “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure to take all this back when we sober up.” You don’t respond out loud, but the words “I hope not” float through your brain as you begin drifting out of consciousness, your legs entwined with Eddie’s, his leg hair tickling your skin. Soon, his snoring pulls you under, and your mind goes blank.

–

You wake up to the sound of Eddie’s snoring in your ear. “What the f– Ah!” You shove yourself backwards, registering Eddie’s mess of curls tickling your nose, his head resting next to yours, a far different position than you remember him falling asleep in. He doesn’t budge with your outburst, still dead asleep as you collect your thoughts. “Eddie? Eddie!” You start shaking him, and he groans at the disturbance. “Why are you, like, on top of me?”

“Hm? Good mornin’, princess.” His voice is raspy with sleep and you clench your fists to distract yourself from the shivers it causes. “You were havin’ a nightmare, you don’t remember?”

You furrow your brow, trying to recall your dream. Vaguely, you can remember Eddie and Chris, the three of you as kids playing some game or another like you always had. You can sort of remember not being included, like the two of them couldn’t see you. “Did I talk again?”

Eddie laughs, but not at you. “A little, yeah. Started yellin’ my name at some point. That’s what woke me up.”

You hide your face in your hand. “God, I’m sorry. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Felt like old times, a little bit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you missed me fucking up your REM cycle.” You’re joking, but his smile softens at your words.

“I really, really did. Believe it or not.” This radical honesty is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. “So, anyway. I woke up, flipped around, hugged you for a while. You seemed to be okay after that. Sorry. I didn’t wanna risk waking you up. I know it worked when we were kids.”

You remember when Eddie would sleep over on weekends and during the summer. You, him, and Chris would sprawl out in the living room. Sometimes, you’d watch scary movies, and as a result you’d get the scariest nightmares about Jason Vorhees or Ghostface or whoever the slasher was that night. Eddie had somehow discovered that wrapping himself around you like a koala would calm you down, and you’d wake up in his very sweaty embrace, feeling extremely well rested. You feel that same relaxation now, Eddie’s nose inches away from yours.

“Thanks.” You whisper the word, but he hears you.

“Don’t mention it.”

You could leave it there. Get up and pretend none of it ever happened, but you can’t. “Every day I think you can’t bewilder me any more than you already have, and every day I’m wrong.” You dare to look him in the eye as you say it, dare yourself to feel everything you’d been avoiding until this point. “What the fuck are you doing to me, Munson?”

He shrugs, then rests a hand on your waist. “I’m makin’ up for lost time.”

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children-of-the-grave · 6 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XIII: A Light that Flickers In and Out

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | read bee's diary

songs: snap out of it by arctic monkeys, the real by narrow head

summary: You confide the events of the day to your trusted confidant, and come to a few more supposed realizations

chapter tags: mentions of blood (Eddie is dumb and hurts himself), swearing | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

Eddie drops you off a whole hour before your shift. When you get into the break room, Kevin, the lead bartender, and your mom are in the office across the hall.

“Hey, Bee!” Kevin greets you. He’s an older guy, with heavily tattooed, strong arms and a healthy black mustache. You’d had a huge crush on him growing up, always seeing him here when your mom would have to bring you to work because she couldn’t find a babysitter.

“Hi, Kev. Slow night?”

He nods, tossing his rag over his shoulder. “Yeah, I was trying to convince your mom to let me leave a little early. Lily’s got dance class tonight and her mom’s been sick.”

“Well, now that your coverage is here, I guess you can go.”

“Thank you, ma’am. See ya, Bee!” He waves to you before exiting the office.

“Bye!” You swipe your punch card, officially clocking in, and run to change the music before entering the back office. You decide on a more upbeat playlist, not wanting to depress your customers into leaving shitty tips.

“Mom, you hanging out tonight? Or am I closing up alone?” You’re fine with either, but a gossip session with your mom is a little overdue. You drop down into the chair next to hers.

“I’m here all night, babes.” She collects her mess of papers into a neatish pile. Why, what’s up?”

You sigh, plopping down next to her in the old office chair, the fake leather peeling up on the arms. You pick at it while she fiddles around on the computer, probably filling out payroll.

“That exciting, huh?”

“Well,” You hesitate, picking at the fabric, thinking of how to put your earlier experience into words. “Just, a lot on my mind I guess.”

Your mom clicks to minimize the screen, and turns her chair to face you. “What’s wrong, Beeb?”

You pick at the skin around your thumbnail as you think about your response. Your mother swats at you, having always hated the habit. “I hung out with Eddie today.” You finally rush out, your eyes still glued to the floor.

Your mother’s face morphs from an expression of concern to one of surprise. “Like, by choice?”

You exhale, stifling a laugh at her dig. “Yeah, actually. I initiated it and everything.”

“Okay… I am failing to understand the problem so far.”

“It was going really well at first! I bumped into him at the record store downtown, he ended up buying my vinyl. Then we went to this antique store, and I found the perfect dress for my costume. He took one look at me and started acting… bizarre.”

“Define bizarre.”

“He could barely look at me when I asked what he thought of it. And, he bolted out of there like he’d left the stove on. Just, all of a sudden. Wouldn’t talk to me the entire ride back to my car, barely said goodbye.” You collapse into the barstool, resting your head in your hands like a frustrated teenager. “He’s so fucking frustrating!” You muffle the words into your palms, shaking your head as you speak.

Under your voice, you can hear your mother laughing at you. Not quietly, either, but a full on, obnoxious cackle. “Mom!”

“I’m sorry, sweetie!” She barely gets the words out between fits of giggles. “I just, I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out!”

You squish your lips together into a thin line, sneering through your nostrils as you let your mother catch her breath. “Figured what out, Mother?”

“Hey,” She’s finally ceased her hysterics. “Don’t ‘mother’ me. I’m just kidding around, Bee.”

“I need you to be serious for, like, two minutes. Please. What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the fact that that boy has been head over heels in love with you for about twelve years now. He hasn’t been that quiet about it, either.” You look at her for more signs of laughter, hoping she’ll crack any minute. She doesn’t.

“Mom, do I need to remind you what he did to our family?”

“I thought you figured all of that out?”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping. “You knew?! For how long?!”

“Since the day they arrested them, Bee. I thought you did too! Well, until Chris told me he never actually told you, and that he was waiting for Eddie to do it.” You’re at a loss for words, so she keeps talking. “He did tell you finally, right? Chris called me after you talked to him.”

That sends you into a rage. “Oh my god! Do you people ever just, I dunno, talk to me?! I’m not a child anymore, mom. I can know things! You all seem to tiptoe around me like I’m that same sensitive kid. It’s fucking disrespectful.” Your face feels hot, and the few patrons in the bar have been sending the two of you curious glances, or annoyed glares. “I can’t believe you knew. How am I supposed to trust anyone if I can’t even get the truth from my own mother?”

Your mom doesn’t interrupt, to her credit. When you finally finish, hot tears leak quickly, sliding down your cheeks before you angrily swat them away.

“I know, Bee. I should have told you sooner. I thought I was protecting you.” Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper but you still hear it crack. “If I could go back and make myself tell you, I would in a heartbeat. But I’m here now. That’s all I can do, is be here for you.”

You wait a beat, gathering your strength to look up at her. “You need to promise me, right now, that you won’t ever keep something like this from me again. I’m twenty four. I can handle hard truths. And if I can’t, I need to learn how.”

She nods solemnly, extending her pinky to you. “I promise.”

You link your own pinky with hers, and you both lean in to kiss your hands. “Thanks, Mama.”

–

“Vodka tonic for you, and a Shirley for the lady.” You place the glasses on the bar, and the man hands you his card. “Wanna open a tab?” He nods, grunting before turning away, his date linking her arm through his. “Okay, fuck you too.” You mumble, turning back to the tablet where you keep track of tabs.

“Jack and coke, neat.” You don’t respond, or even turn around. “Please?” He adds, and you roll your eyes.

“Thought you had a shift.” It had only been a couple hours, no way was he done working already. The time on your computer reads 5:50 PM, and you busy yourself with another customer’s drink instead.

“Boss let me leave early. Because, well, I’m the boss.” He snickers to himself, and his gaul makes you snap.

You turn to face him, slamming the glass down on the bar in front of him, until the customer clears her throat, signaling you to give it to her. “Sorry. Enjoy!” You dare to look back at Eddie, who’s offering his card to you. “Open or closed?”

“For you? Open. Always.” He winks at you, and you have to fight yourself on whether to sucker punch him right in his smart ass mouth. Your conscience wins in the end. “Gross.” You quip instead, plucking his beat up debit card from his fingers. “So you bailed on me to go work for, what, two hours? That’s awesome to hear.” You stab the touch screen, adding his drink to the tab. Way to act unbothered, you scold yourself, turning back to begin making his drink.

“No, I bailed because my pants were suffocating me after I saw you in that dress.” His words catch you the furthest off guard, sending the glass to the floor, glass skittering across the sticky wood. “Fuck.” You spit, yanking the broom and dustpan from the corner of the bar. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me? You’re the one jumpin’ around like you committed a crime!” Before you can stop him, Eddie’s leaping over the bar, landing next to you and barely avoiding the glass. Customers are mumbling now, and you’re sure you’ll hear the long and short of it from your mom for this by the end of the night.

“You can’t be back here.” There’s no energy behind your scolding, Eddie won’t listen anyway. He’s bent over, plucking the glass shards off the floor one by one. “Ed, I have a broom. You’re gonna–”

“Shit!” Eddie jerks his hand back, causing him to bump his head on the bar counter. “Fuck!” His bloody hand flies to his head as you wince.

“Jesus christ.” The words come from in front of you, and you look up to find former Chief of Hawkins Police Jim Hopper sliding into Eddie’s seat at the bar. “Hey, Miss L/n. Munson.” He nods once, removing his hat and placing it on the bar next to him. “Can I get a beer, when you have the chance?”

You nod, nervous suddenly. You have no reason to be, it’s not like you’ve committed any crimes lately, and it’s not like he has the authority to arrest you anyway. However, you’re never sure if you can say the same for the boy bleeding to your right.

“Hey, big guy!” Eddie waves, the blood dripping from his hand staining his palm. “How’ve you been?” The man doesn’t indulge him, instead staring through him unblinking as Eddie squirms. “That good, huh?” He laughs and the sound is thin with nerves. “Well, I uh, I gotta um,”

“Go get the first aid kit.” You interrupt. “I’ll be back to help you in a second.”

“Right, okay.” Eddie practically trips over himself getting out of there. When he’s out of Hopper’s sight, you turn to him.

“What brings you here this time, Chief? Drunk and disorderly again?”

“Retired chief, ‘member? And nah, nothin’ like that this time. Keepin’ an eye on Munson is all.”

“Is this about the fight? That was, like, weeks ago at this point. No incidents since.”

“No, ma’am, not about the scrap, that’s way below what my time’s worth nowadays.” He doesn’t elaborate, leaving you wondering what Eddie could have possibly done to get Hopper’s attention when he’s supposed to be drinking pina coladas out of coconuts in Miami or something. You don’t pry for answers, knowing you’d only regret it if he’d even decide to tell you.

“Okay, well. Speaking of Munson, I’m gonna go make sure he doesn’t bleed out in my bar.” He nods, a small smile playing on his lips as you scramble out of there, and into the back office.

“You alright?” You ask, opening the door to the tiny office, where Eddie is sitting in one of the metal folding chairs, hand sloppily wrapped in gauze. Eddie shrugs, offering his injured hand to you. “ ‘m okay, just awful at first aid apparently.”

You shake your head, letting an amused chuckle slip from your lips, and Eddie flushes as he looks at you. It’s disorienting. “What’re you lookin’ at?” You tease, plucking a fresh gauze pad and the bacitracin from the kit.

“You.” You think you hear him sigh as he says it.

“Oh, shut up.”

“What? You asked!”

“Why are you being weird?” You spray the antibiotic into his wound and Eddie winces. “Sorry, probably shoulda warned you.”

“It’s fine. Fuck, I forgot how bad this shit stings.”

“Forgot? You haven’t wounded yourself enough recently?”

“Oh I’ve wounded myself plenty, I just don’t take care of them.”

You roll your eyes, tearing open the gauze. “You’re gonna get tetanus one of these days.”

He shrugs. “I’ve survived so far.”

“Barely.” You can’t stop the smirk when you say it, but he joins you when you start to laugh. “There ya go, good as new!” You rip a small piece of medical tape from the roll to secure his bandage in place. “I don’t think you need stitches, but you should probably keep it covered until it scabs over. Motor oil probably isn’t the best disinfectant.”

“Thanks, Bee. I appreciate it.”

You nod in response, then ask, “Why is Hopper here?”

He shrugs. “Dunno, wasn’t me this time.”

“He says it was, actually.”

That takes him aback. “What?”

“Said he was, ‘Keeping an eye on you’.” You say, fingers raised in air quotes. “Didn’t get the chance to ask, though.”

“Well, let me do the honors!” Eddie is up, storming back into the bar before you can catch up, hair flying behind him. When he throws the door open, though, Hopper isn’t at the bar anymore. A crisp twenty dollar bill is sitting under his empty Budweiser bottle. “Well that’s not strange at all!” Eddie exclaims, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“What the hell.”

“Right? No way your service was good enough for a one hundred percent tip.” Eddie teases, but you’re too lost in your own head to bite back.

–

“It just feels… weird.” You put the last of the glasses in the dish drainer while your mom finishes counting the drawer. “He didn’t even talk to Eddie.” Your mom doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “You know him and Joyce, right? Like, you guys go out for dinner and stuff.” She nods. “Do you have any idea why he would do something like that?”

“Honey,” She says it in that tone you hate, the one she uses when she doesn’t want to upset you. It never works. “I’m sure it isn’t anything you need to worry about.”

“I’m not worried, I’m confused! Curious, maybe. At most.” You don’t even sound convincing to yourself.

“Why don’t you ask Eddie?”

You falter, blinking at her without a good enough response. “What if he doesn’t know?”

She shrugs. “Then you’ll have to let it be. Or go snooping to find out for yourself.” She laughs, but it’s not a half bad idea. “I’m kidding, Bee. Please don’t be getting yourself in trouble for that boy. You aren’t a teenager anymore, you have real consequences at stake.”

“I won’t go snooping, mom.” Not if I don’t have to. “I just wanna make sure he’s not gonna get Chris dragged into his bullshit again.”

Your mother busies herself filling out the deposit slip, and you move around the bar to spray down the tables. “You sure you have no idea what it could be about? Not one guess?” You’re desperate for something to lead you in the right direction, desperate to stop the nagging in the back of your head that Eddie’s in trouble again.

Your mother only shakes her head, and you have to believe her, knowing it will hurt both of you even worse if you don’t. “Okay.”

“Let’s get outta here, huh? You need a ride home?” Your mother shuts the overhead lights off before following you to the front door. You’re about to say yes, because Eddie had abandoned you here eight hours ago, when you catch sight of the van idling next to the curb. “Guess not. I’ll see you tomorrow, bug.” She wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders, and you squeeze around her middle. “Use protection, ‘kay?”

“Mom!” You try to let go but she holds you tighter, body wracked with laughter. “Sorry, sorry! I love you. Have a good night, baby.”

“Goodnight, Mama. Love you, too.” She frees you from her embrace and walks away, keys jingling in her grip.

He’s leaning against the hood, cigarette dangling between his lips as smoke curls into the air above him. Even in the dark, you can make out the frizzy curls surrounding his head, untamed in the nighttime breeze. “Hey.” You approach him slowly, as if afraid of spooking him. “What are you still doing here?”

He shrugs, taking a drag of his cigarette before responding. “Figured I owed you a ride home after bailing earlier.” He offers the stick out to you, something you would normally refuse without hesitation. Tonight, though, you pluck the cigarette from his fingers and bring it to your lips, inhaling deeply. “What was that all about, Eds? Seriously. You’ve been so weird today.”

“I can’t believe you aren’t, like, used to that yet.” He snatches his cigarette back. “You should be concerned when I stop acting weird.”

“Ugh, shut up. Even for you, you were weird. It’s like, I dunno, you’re intimidated by me or something.” You wince as the words leave your mouth. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, it’s okay,” He shakes his head, his curls flying around his head as he does. “I mean, I kind of am intimidated. I have a lot to make up for.”

“Like what?” Part of you knows you’re prodding, fishing for the Eddie you knew growing up; the sweet kid with the buzz cut and expansive metal t-shirt collection.

“Like, I dunno, everything that happened in the last six years?”

“I feel like we keep having this discussion. Are we in a wormhole?”

He scoffs, shoving you playfully.“Because, dork, I need to make it as clear as I can when I tell you how sorry I am.”

“Okay, Eddie. You’ve said that a few times now. You can relax, you don’t owe me anything else.”

“Of course I do, Bee, and I’m gonna make sure you get all of it. Everything I kept from you, everything I messed up. Just give me some time, okay?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes squeezed shut in thought. “We have all the time in the world, dude. Just, stop being so cryptic, okay?”

He nods, finally loosening up as his lips twitch in amusement. “Okay, fine. Can I still give you a ride home?”

You look him in the eyes for the first time during this conversation, immediately feeling your knees wobble. “If you insist.”

He grins wildly, tossing his cigarette onto the concrete before practically skipping to the passenger door, opening it for you. “Milady.” You glare at him, bending into an exaggerated curtsy before hopping into the passenger seat. Eddie stumbles back to the driver’s door, yanking it open before throwing himself into the seat, making the van bounce slightly, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. It all feels so normal, but the words of your mother still play in the back of your brain: “That boy has been head over heels in love with you for about twelve years now.” From where you’re sitting, you can’t see what she does. You see someone desperate to make years of lost time without having any idea how. That’s all this is, it has to be. You don’t know what you’d do if it was more than that.

“Where’d you go?” You jump at the sound of his voice, remembering where you are.

“What?”

“You, like, zoned out. You okay?” You can feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“Yeah,” Your voice cracks unconvincingly, and you clear your throat to mask it. “I’m okay. Tired.”

He nods, thoughtful. You can’t help letting your eyes drift from your lap to where his hand is draped on top of the steering wheel, casual. He looks relaxed, leaned back in his seat as he drives without needing to think, thumb tapping to the beat of a song you vaguely recognize. Outside, the world is dark, the only source of light being his high beams on an otherwise pitch black back road surrounded by massive trees on either side. The whole world is asleep, except for the two of you. It’s peaceful, despite the buzzing in your chest.

It’s almost comfortable.

Almost.

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children-of-the-grave · 6 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XII: Too Far to Touch

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | read bee's diary

songs: i forgive no one by citizen, dark blue by one step closer, this is why by paramore, blackout by turnstile

chapter tags: awkward situations, weirdo behavior from bee and Eddie, per usual. swearing, adult language, etc | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

summary: really kind of a nothing burger chapter but only bc I plan to inflict pain shortly :p

a/n: lots of dialogue please lmk if u notice any mistakes bc sometimes my brain just GOES. also... I am so sorry for the long wait, i rly hope it was worth it!

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

Even for a Monday, Benny’s is packed to the brim with hungry customers. The diner is decorated for Halloween, black and orange streamers lining the grimy windows, plastic jack o’lanterns flickering on the sills. Steve and Robin have already claimed their usual booth in the far corner, crammed into one side next to each other to leave you the space across from them.

“Alright, spill!” Robin demands before your butt even sinks into the vinyl of the seat. She slides your iced coffee toward you, already fixed the way you like it.

“Eager, are we? Relax, Rob, we’ll get to it.” You sip your drink as you skim over the menu, a pointless task when you order the same thing every time.

“Oh, come on, Bee! You have to understand why this is such a big deal!” You glance from her to Steve, who’s been awfully quiet as he sips his steaming cup of coffee next to her.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, huge deal.” He nods, tone unconvincing. Robin rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to you, her face betraying her excitement.

“Can I at least get some sustenance first?” You bite back a laugh as Dory approaches to take your order. Dory’s an older woman, and she’s been at Benny’s for as long as you can remember.

“Hi, darlin’, what can I get for ya?” She snaps her gum, pen poised to take your order. You ramble your own off quickly, and your friends follow suit. “Comin’ right up.”

“Okay, sustenance is being obtained, now it’s your turn. What went down yesterday?”

You can’t hold them off any longer. “Rob, what is your fixation with this? It was fine, normal! We grabbed coffee, went back to his apartment. Smoked a little, caught up, y’know? Nothing worth writing home about.” You pick at your cuticles, suddenly very aware of the way your friends are staring at you. “What do you want me to say? We had a dramatic argument that ended in make up sex? It was nowhere near that dramatic.”

“Did you want to have sex with him?”

You choke on your sip of coffee. “What?”

Steve looks at you like his question is worthy of a real response. “Well, with the underlying tension between the two of you, it wouldn’t really be much of a surprise if you did feel compelled to sleep with him.”

“Steve. You sound deranged.”

He shrugs. “Crazier things have been said.”

“Not by you, and never so casually! Whatever, I don't need your guys’ shit.” You shove another bite of your breakfast into your mouth, ending the conversation.

Robin scoffs at your comment. “Hey, I didn’t say anything!”

–

“So, when’s the Halloween bash, Stevie?” You ask as the three of you enter the parking lot. “And is there a theme this year? I have to start collecting my costume.”

Steve shakes his head, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “No theme, I originally wasn’t even gonna throw a party this year.”

You gasp dramatically, feigning offence. “How dare you say such a thing! This party is the one normal thing I have left in my life.” You pout at your friend, earning a giggle from Robin.

“Which is exactly why I’m still throwing one. Well, that and because I’m holding out hope that Nancy will bring her pretty college friends.”

“Never change, Steven.” Robin pats his shoulder, shaking her head. “Anyway, I already know what I’m gonna be.” She crosses her arms over her chest, eyeing between you and Steve. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what my costume is?”

“You’re just gonna say ‘It’s a surprise!’ anyway.” Steve accuses.

“It’s a sur– Oh. Shut up!”

You and Steve burst into laughter at Robin’s frustration. Finally, you’re able to speak again. “Well, I still have to figure my costume out. Something that’s relevant enough for people to get it, but still obscure enough that every single frat guy in the room won’t suddenly think he’s allowed to talk to me.”

“You always have the best costumes, I’m sure you'll think of something.” Robin climbs into Steve’s passenger seat, and you wave as they pull away before getting into your own car. You crank your music, a habit your mother has tried getting you to break since you woke her up with your music coming home at 3am, though you’ve refused to budge. Your car time is your personal time, completely free of judgment from others. Today, you’ve chosen to shuffle your angsty playlist, setting your volume to max as the opening riffs to Citizen floods through the speakers. It’s a short drive, made shorter when you cut through the side streets that are usually less congested during a work day, but you don’t really feel like going back home just yet. Chris is not the person you feel like talking to after yesterday, expecting him to be insufferable with his “told you so”s after telling him about how harmless Eddie is. Maybe you’ll lie just to watch him squirm, you haven’t decided yet.

Instead, you take yourself to the record store, a treat you haven’t let yourself have in a long enough time. You used to come with Eddie every Friday in high school to check out the new releases and avoid your studies together, but since you’d stopped talking the place has been a sore spot for you.

The bell chimes as you step inside, where nothing has changed in the past six years except maybe the records on display. Today, the walls are lined with releases from the past few years, including a variant of Paramore’s This Is Why that you don’t have yet. Tim, the owner of the shop, waves at you from where he sits behind the counter, fiddling with his relic of an acoustic guitar. “Mornin’, Bee! Been awhile.” He smiles at you, revealing his yellowed teeth and pink gums.

“Morning, Timmy. Yeah, I know, it’s been way too long. Got anything good in lately?”

Tim taps his chin with his wrinkly finger before making an “Aha!” sound. “Just got a couple of these in, you heard of ‘em?” He pulls out a record you recognize, but have yet to listen to because you couldn’t find a physical copy, called All You Embrace by a band called One Step Closer.

“No way, where did you get these?” You hold the record, admiring the packaging, reading the tracklist.

“They played a show at the Hideout a couple months ago, they sold me a few at a bulk price so I could sell them here. Nice dudes.” Tim nods thoughtfully.

“That’s sick. How much?”

“For you, darlin, consider it a thanks for visiting an old man.”

“Tim, you don’t have–”

He holds his finger up to stop you. “Here, if you wanna do something for me in return, get Munson to buy something or get him outta here, he’s been here since we opened.” He nods his head to the far corner of the store, where you only just now see Eddie picking through the metal records, a massive pair of headphones on his head.

“Oh, Eddie and I aren’t…” You can’t exactly say you’re not friends anymore, but Tim probably doesn’t care.

Or, you think doesn’t until he’s leaning over the counter. “Don’t tell me you two broke up. I guess that would explain why you’re never in here anymore, I just thought you’d been in New York this whole time. Eddie hasn’t been in much either.”

“And yet, somehow, we’re both here today.” You mumble, mostly to yourself, but Tim hears you.

“Love works in funny ways sometimes.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the geezer. “Tim, Eddie and I were never a couple. You know that, right?”

“Sure, not a couple in the traditional sense, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t once a duo to be messed with! I used to love entertaining you two with my guitars, you were the only ones that seemed to care about what I had to say.”

It softens you, the kindness in this old man’s voice. Adults were never fans of you and Eddie, and it warms your heart to know there was one looking forward to seeing you. “Alright, because you’ve been so nice to me today, I’ll see that Munson buys something.” You leave the record with Tim and approach the corner Eddie is still in, flipping through the Used section as if on the hunt for a specific, rare record that probably doesn’t exist.

You tap his shoulder gently, then with more vigor when he doesn’t turn around. Finally, growing frustrated, you snatch one of the speakers from his ear. “Munson!”

He jumps, spinning himself around as if to swing at you, but immediately lowers his guard when he sees your face. “Jesus Christ, Bee, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Glad I could finally garner your attention. Tim sent me to make you leave. He’s tired of seeing your mug when he looks up from the register.” You press your lips into a thin line to keep from laughing.

Eddie’s wearing a tattered Pixies shirt, and his hair is tied back in a low ponytail. In his hands, he’s holding Chappell Roan’s record along with one you don’t recognize. “Aw, you liked the show that much, huh?” You ask, sliding the album from his grip. “There are a few on here I don’t think she played. You’ll love Naked in Manhattan.”

Eddie snatches the record back from you. “Don’t judge, I’m a man of vast taste.”

“Who’s judging? I was sent over here by the boss man, okay? I don't care what you spend your money on.” Eddie sends a wave to Tim, who chuckles in response. “What’re you getting, anything?”

“Tim’s got a record up there for me, I wasn’t planning on getting anything but he got a couple from a band in Wilkes-Barre that I really like. And he has a This Is Why variant I don’t have yet.”

“Red one?”

You pause. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

Eddie shrugs. “Saw it when I walked in, debated on picking it up for you but I wasn’t sure if you had it already.”

“Well, you still can pick it up for me, now that you know!” You give him a wide smile, and he snorts.

“Not a chance.”

You shrug. “Worth a shot. Anyway, quit loitering, Tim’s gonna threaten to ban you again.”

Eddie follows you to the front, placing his records on the counter for Tim to scan. “Long time, Munson. How’s the world treating you?”

You could swear he glances at you before answering, “Better, lately, believe it or not. How’re you doin’, Timmy?”

“Same old. Anything else for you guys today?”

“Yeah, actually, could I get that–” Eddie cuts you off, “I’ll take the red This Is Why variant, please.”

“What if that's what the lady wanted?” Tim scolds him, and you giggle.

“Which is why I’m getting it for her, Timothy.” Eddie crosses his arms as if offended by the assumption.

“Ah, right, the rare record for your Not-Girlfriend. Bet you they’re her favorite, too.” Tim winks at you. “You young people don’t make any sense to me.” He plucks the record off the top shelf and hands it to you. Eddie pays for it, along with his own, and Tim slides it to you with your other album. “Have a good day, kids.”

“You too, Tim! Thanks again!” You exclaim as you and Eddie leave the store, Eddie holding the door open for you.

“You didn’t have to do that, y’know.” You say once you’ve exited. “I have my own money.”

“Pft, whatever. Don’t pretend you’re not pumped that you didn’t spend your own money on it.”

“While I can’t exactly argue, I still don’t see why you did that.”

“Does everything have to have a reason with you?” You can sense you’re irritating him.

“Yes, obviously.”

“What a miserable way to live. Anyway, where to?”

“Where to what?” You open your passenger door, placing the records on your seat.

“Well, you dragged me out of there. I was planning on hanging out for at least another hour, so now you have an hour of my time.”

“Oh, yippee!” You quip, earning the smallest smile from Eddie. “I dunno, I was just gonna go home and play these.”

“I have a better idea.” Eddie has a mischievous look on his face, like he’s got a secret you’re not allowed to know yet.

“Do tell?”

“Nah, it’s better if it’s a surprise. C’mon. I’ll drive.” You are left with no choice but to abandon your car in the lot and follow Eddie to his van.

–

Eddie drives like he’s not afraid to die. In the ten minutes you’ve been on the road, you’ve counted ten different car horns, and caught several people shouting out their windows, middle fingers angrily shaking in the air. Through it all, Eddie is screaming along to his music, headbanging as his lead foot rests on the gas pedal.

“You are gonna get us killed!” You shriek at some point, your knuckles turning white as you grip the overhead handle.

“Oh, relax! This is nothing, you should see me on the highway.” You can only assume his glove compartment is overstuffed with unpaid speeding tickets.

“Where are we even going?” You don’t recognize the route he’s taking, twisting and turning down woodsy back roads that are growing scarily narrow as they progress.

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” Eddie cuts the wheel, taking a sharp right back onto a main road, earning a long, angry honk from the SUV behind him. “Besides, if you knew where we were going, you wouldn’t have come.”

“That is so not reassuring.” You grumble, finally looking at him. His cheeks are red, probably because even though it’s forty degrees he’s driving with the window open as he puffs on a cigarette. He has one hand on the wheel, the other out the window as he whips down the street, hair flying in every direction with the wind. “What are you staring at?” His question makes you realize you had, in fact, been staring at him.

“What? Nothing. I’m… nothing.” Real smooth.

“Right. Okay, we’re here!” He turns into a parking lot on an otherwise deserted street, empty save for an old, white van that’s likely seen better days, parked in front of a small, shed-like building with a sign that reads “Vintage” in red, faded paint. “I need some stuff for Steve’s party.”

Oh, come on. “You’re going to that?”

“‘Course I am, how else am I gonna pay rent if not with the money from the rich kids that attend his parties? C’mon. Maybe we can find you something for your costume.” Before you can move, Eddie shoves his van door open and runs around to your side, yanking the door open for you. It gives you pause, but you choose to ignore the way your stomach flips at the gesture. Eddie leads the way inside, where the bell rings as he opens the door. From the counter, an old lady with hair so silver it’s almost blue, looks up from her crossword to greet you.

“Hello, darlings! Anything I can help you find?”

“Not just yet, Murial. Thank you!” Eddie speaks to the woman like an old friend, and you cock your eyebrow at him. “What? Where did you think I got all my classic band shirts from?”

“In all honesty, I don’t think about you that deeply.” You thought he’d gotten them on eBay, but you’re not about to tell him that.

“Ouch, that one stung.” He chuckles, and you groan at him. “Okay, let me give you the tour. Over here, we have the dusty old knick knacks that are for sure haunted.” Eddie gestures to the metal shelves crowded with porcelain and plaster figurines, some cute while others frighten you to your core. A particular piece catches your eye; a figure of a pierrot clown, painted to look anguished, pouting despite its playful makeup. You pick the doll up, turning it in your hands until you find the price tag, a tiny yellow sticker that reads $5. You decide to carry it with you, just in case.

“Oh, and I’m the freak?” Eddie nods to the clown. “That thing is gonna bring demons into your apartment.”

“Not if I’m nice to him!” The paint on the figure is chipping in places, but you think it adds character. “His name will be Gustav.” You decide firmly, holding him up to Eddie’s face. “Say hello.”

“Will you get it out of my face if I do?” You nod. “Okay, fine. Hello, Gustav.” He says, disdained. “Now, get that thing away from me.”

Sighing, you lower your clown statue, and Eddie rolls his eyes at you. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, and you can’t decide if it’s awkward or not. Eddie’s eyes scan over the shelves of dusty knick knacks and candles, but yours are stuck on the way his hands keep clenching into fists and back again. “You alright?” You ask as his eyes seem to fixate on a wooden sign with some witty saying on it.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” He moves his stare onto you, causing your chest to tighten.

“Y- yeah, I’m good. Gonna go look at the clothes.” You turn on your heel, practically galloping away from him. You’re about half a yard away when you hear his heavy boots following you.

–

“Okay, what about this?” You step out of the dressing room, which is really just a closet with a paper sign taped to it. You’re wearing an obnoxiously bright pair of hot pants, and a glittery tank top.

“No. You look like my mom in high school.” Eddie shakes his head, causing stray curls to fall into his face. You catch yourself staring before it’s been too long.

“Your mom was a beautiful woman, I’m flattered. Okay, fine. I have one more, then it’s back to the drawing board.” You close the door again, and examine your final costume choice; a low cut, sage green dress with dramatic bell sleeves and a flowy skirt. You also somehow managed to find a corset that matches perfectly, a shade of light brown that reminds you of your morning coffee. You step into the dress, careful not to trip on the fabric as you hike it over your thighs, hips, and chest. You slide your arms into the sleeves and feel the soft, light fabric engulf you. Immediately, you love it. In the mirror, the garment hugs your body perfectly, clinging to your curves and fanning out around your feet. You’d wear this every day, if it were practical. “Hey, Ed? Can I get some help?” He doesn’t answer. “Eddie?”

“Sorry, yeah. Can I open the door?”

“Yeah, I’m decent.” Your back is still to the door, but you catch his eye in the mirror as the door opens, and watch as his eyes scan from your face and down your figure, then quickly back up to meet your eyes. “Whoa.”

You scoff. “Can you zip me up?” Silence. “Hello? Earth to Munson?”

“Huh?”

You turn to face him, having to look up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine, why?”

“You’re being weird.”

“Am I?”

“Oh my god. Please just zip me.”

“Okay, sure.” You turn back around. It feels like forever, his calloused fingertips brushing your spine as he slowly pulls the metal zipper up your back. “Tada.” His voice cracks, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat. You turn back to face him, and he won't look at you.

“How do I look?” You challenge, stepping back to give him a better view.

He looks at the top of your head when he answers, “Great.” with no enthusiasm.

“You didn’t even look.” You huff, crossing your arms. Where did his attitude come from?

Eddie takes the quickest look at the dress and nods curtly. “There, I looked. Great, like I said.”

You’re fed up. “Why are you being so fucking weird all of a sudden?”

“I’m not being weird! Bee. Really, the dress looks great.” Before you can argue, steam rolls you. “You should get it. We should get going, though. I have a shift.”

You don’t argue, just nod as he leaves the dressing room, the door clicking behind him as it closes, leaving you confused and close to tears in a pretty dress.

–

78 notes · View notes

children-of-the-grave · 10 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter III: I Carry You Around

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev

song(s) for this chapter: roam the room by citizen, drunk ii by mannequin pussy

a/n: i forgot how hard it was to get a new story going, but we’re movin!! please enjoy this lil chapter while i work on the new one :p also! thank you guys for 200 followers that’s kinda crazy for me on this site. 🥳🎉❤️

summary: you need some help recalling the events of last night

chapter tags: drinking/drug (weed) use, description of throwing up (reader), swearing, reader has a lot of nicknames (to avoid using y/n), slight angst, big game of telephone. | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

disclaimer: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

tag list: reply/message to be added! @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj

“Hey,” Robin pokes you, still snoring constantly next to her on the air mattress. “Hey, wake up! I’m starving!” she shakes you lightly, and you groan. “C’mon, Benny’s is never packed this late. I’m buyin’.” Your eyes flutter open at the mention of her treating you.

“Okay, okay. I’m awake.”

“Oh, good. I was beginning to think the last vodka sprite killed you.”

“It probably should’ve.” You squint, attempting not to let too much light in before you know the status of your hangover. You blink a few times, focusing solely on not sitting up too quickly. “Alright, I think we’re in the clear. Bacon sounds so good right now.”

“Is she up?” Steve calls from the kitchen, over the clatter of bottles being thrown into the recycling bin.

“Yeah, I’ve tempted her with free food.” Robin giggles, following your lead of slowly exiting the blow up bed. “Will the Insufferable Bard be joining us on the breakfast quest?” You regret the words after they leave your lips.

“Is the evil queen asking little ole me to tag along?” Eddie practically skips into the living room, way too chipper for your hungover brain to handle. Steve has the balls to snicker. “I’d be absolutely delighted to accompany you to dine for breakfast, Highness.” He curtsies for emphasis.

“Never mind, actually. I just remembered I’m needed somewhere that, um, not here.”

Eddie tsks at you. “Ah, no take backs. Shall I get your coat?”

Fluffy diner pancakes and greasy bacon can and do save you. You moan as you shove a bite full of syrup and pancake into your mouth, met with similar responses as your friends devour their food. You can feel Eddie staring at you from across the booth.

“So, did I sleep through all of the cleaning?” You ask after swallowing. “I promise that wasn’t the intention.”

Steve shakes his head, sipping his coffee. “Actually, you did most of it last night. You don’t remember?”

You squint, as if trying to see the blurry memories in front of you. You remember playing beer pong, and then losing beer pong. You remember bits and pieces of conversations with Robin and Steve. You remember Chrissy running out of Steve’s bedroom. Then nothing. “Huh. Guess not.” Usually you only black out when you’re angry, but you can’t remember anything viscerally upsetting happening to you. Not consciously.

Steve shrugs. “Weird. Nah, we let you sleep. It was hard enough getting you into bed.”

You feel your cheeks burn. “Sorry, Steve. Guess I can’t hold my liquor.”

“Nah, I didn’t do anything. Eddie pretty much took care of you.”

Your blood freezes in your veins, draining quickly from your face. “What?”

Steve places his mug down, and Robin throws her arms in the air in defeat and disappointment. “What? What did I say?”

“Seriously, dingus?”

Eddie’s gone silent, silverware long abandoned on his plate. “You promised you weren’t gonna bring that up.” The words are muffled behind his hand.

“I did?”

Robin slaps her palm to her forehead.

“What the hell is going on?” You look from Steve to a red cheeked Eddie.

He sighs. “Sorry, princess. Guess your knight in shining armor’s an ogre.”

You’re gaping. Not a single part of this makes sense to you. You and Eddie haven’t been that close in years. “Aren’t you already Chrissy’s ogre though?”

Eddie’s eyes narrow, irritated as he shoves a bite of toast into his mouth. “That’s none of your business.”

You raise your hands in surrender. “Okay, shit. Didn’t know you were so sensitive about it.”

“I think I’m lost here.” Steve interrupts, leaning over Robin to reach for the syrup.

“Can we move on, please? I don’t feel like talking about this.”

The response is an awkward silence.

“Thank you.” Eddie says, mouth full of bread. You surrender, for now. You make it a point in your head to find out more. It’s only fair, you reason, I was there too.

—

“Chris, you home?” You call your brother as you enter your apartment. Guitars are blaring from the back of your house, loud enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear you. You wander down the hall, checking the empty bathroom and kitchen on your way. “Chris?”

“Hey, Bug!” Chris calls from the spare-bedroom-turned-studio, turning his stereo down. “C’mere a sec, need your opinion on something.” You follow the sound of his voice into the room, taking in the sight in front of you. Chris has sprawled himself out on the floor, a skateboard deck dismantled in front of him. “Can I ask you something?” You lean against the doorframe, observing your brother.

“You just did.”

You scoff. “Can you remember anything from last night?”

Your question stops his movement. “Uh, maybe. Which part?”

“It’s spotty after midnight. What happened to me?”

Chris turns to face you, and you move to sit in the office chair across from him. “Well. You still can’t handle your liquor.”

“Oh, c’mon. I had, like, three drinks.”

“Yeah, and you got your ass beat in beer pong. I know you hate it, but beer still has alcohol in it.”

“Oh, shut up. Tell me what happened!”

“Okay, but you can’t get mad.”

“I will not be making any promises.”

Last night (as told by Chris)

You stumble into the kitchen, on your way for yet another refill, but you’re stopped short by the solid torso dawned in old leather, reeking of weed. “Man, roadblock.” You Look up to find Eddie looking down at you, eyes curious, joint in hand standing next to your brother, blocking the cooler. “Move aside, dweebs.”

“Hey, Bug. You okay?”

“Hm?” You try to focus on Chris’s face, squinting hard, as if you’re looking directly at the sun. “Yeah, ‘m cool. It’s bright in here.” The lights aren’t even on.

“No, she’s not.” Eddie’s eyes are fully trained on you, concern written plainly on his face. The kid likes to party, but he knows his limits. You, unfortunately, cannot say the same. You rest against the sticky counter, but immediately retract at the sensation, breathing shallowly through your nose. Eddie can see the panic in your eyes when they linger in space for a second too long.

“She’s gonna puke. Move, I got her.” Eddie sprints to your aid, leading you down the hall by the waist, draping your arm over his shoulder, and into the bathroom. “Eddie, ‘m fine.” You slur, completely unconvincing. The bathroom is empty, thankfully. The party’s been over for a while, but you’d slammed quite a few without hesitation tonight, and Eddie thinks, perhaps, he had something to do with it.

“Hey, I got you, c’mere.” Eddie holds your hair back as you crouch in front of the toilet, the only thought going through his head being “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, while he reaches with his free hand to wet a washcloth. When his back is turned, you let it rip, and he rushes back to your side, placing the cool cloth against your clammy forehead. “Feel better?”

Your face screws tightly in concentration. “Gettin’ there.” You string the words together, like you’re too afraid to open your mouth any wider. “Thanks, Ed.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not like we’re friends.” You flinch after you say it.

“Maybe not, but I know too-drunk-to-stand when I see it. Wasn’t gonna let you try to find your own way here.”

“Or you’re secretly in love with me.” You tease, voice strained.

“Okay, now you’re talkin’ crazy. C’mon sweets, it’s bedtime.” He dodges your comment, eager to get out of there.

“Nooo,” You whine, and Eddie smiles dopily at you. “I’m not tired!”

“Doesn’t matter. You stay out here, you’re destined to give yourself alcohol poisoning. C’mon, we can go set up your bed downstairs.”

“You tryna suggest something, Munson?” You tease, wobbly as he helps you stand up.

“What would I be suggesting?”

You shrug. You must not have a clue what you’re saying right now. “Did your brother tell you something?”

“What? No, I’m kidding, Eddie. We don’t like each other, remember?”

“No, you don’t like me.”

Your resolve seems to slip, but only a little. “I have my reasons.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, I know.” He stands up, and offers his hand out for you. You grab it, using it to pull your weight up from the ground. “Okay, prince charming. Whisk me to bed.”

“As you wish, princess.” He helps you get back downstairs, and into the already prepared air mattress. “Your throne awaits.”

You giggle as he guides you down, staying parallel to your body in case you lose your balance. You make it unscathed though, and he brings the blanket up to your chin. “Here,” He pulls an unopened water bottle from his back pocket. “Lemme get you a bucket or something, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait,” You reach out and grab his hand. He looks at your face, the way your eyes are already half closed like your eyelids weigh a ton. “Can you take them off?”

“Excuse me?” He chokes.

“My boots. They’re hard to take off.” You point to your feet, sticking out of the blanket and clad in heavy leather.

“Oh, yeah. ‘Course.” He clears his throat nervously, busying his hands with the buckles of your shoes. By the time he slides the second one off, your head has hit the pillow, and you’re snoring peacefully.

—

Present day

You feel your stomach drop, much akin to the way it must have felt last night. “That did not happen.”

Chris shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Maybe I got some details wrong. After he got you to bed he was freaking out. I don’t get why you have such an issue with the guy.” He shrugs, turning back to his board.

You furrow your brow at him. “Are you being serious?” He whips his head back to you, confused. “Remember? He got you put in prison?!”

He stares back at you, blank faced. “What are you talking about?”

“He ratted you out, Chris! Testified against you! Snitched! I know I blacked out last night, but c'mon! You were in the room when it happened!”

“Oh, my god.”

“What?!” You’re beside yourself, absolutely at a loss. “Chris, don’t tell me you forgive him for that.”

“Beebs, my beautiful, innocent, cherub of a little sister. You have no idea what you’re talking about right now.” Somewhere in the distance, Chris’s phone is ringing, and your vision goes white.

“What does that even mean?!” Chris ignores you, picking up his cell. “Chris!”

“Yo,” You can’t hear the voice on the other line. “Hey, man. Relax. No, she’s good. Alive, thanks to you probably. Kinda pissed, though.” He looks to where you’re silently seething at your brother. “No, I didn’t say shit! I just filled in some blanks from last night.” You can hear Eddie on the other line, voice frantic, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. “Okay. No, I won’t. But you have to.” Long pause. “Yeah, you do. I thought she knew!” He waits. “I don’t care! She has every right to, actually! I would be pissed, too! Figure it out, dude.” He hangs up and looks back to you. “Eddie has some explaining to do.”

—

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children-of-the-grave · 11 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter II: A Place Uncharted and Overgrown

playlist | masterlist | pinboard | prev

song(s) for this chapter: Careful by Paramore, 365 by Charli XCX, Hardline by Julien Baker (for half a second)

chapter tags: cocky!kinda mean!fboy!eddie, swearing, drinking, drug (weed) use, implied sexual content | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

taglist @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle send a message/comment to be added!

a/n: whatever is happening right now, don’t worry. it will get worse!

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

—

Your voice is hoarse by the time you pull into your driveway, surely waking the neighbors as your music leaks through your cracked windows, an angry repetition of YOU CAN’T BE TOO CAREFUL ANYMORE… You do, however, remember to crank it down before leaving your car, something future you will be thankful for.

You flick the light of your bare bones apartment on, glaring at the half your things still sitting in boxes. You keep telling yourself you’ll get to those.

Much to your discouragement, you’ve mostly accepted that Hawkins has swallowed you back into its cold and unforgiving bosom, at least for a while.

You’d left for college, obviously. Escaped to New York with a dream of becoming a published poet, a voice of the new generation. And though school was insightful, challenging, and everything you wanted; it was lonely. Art students are pretentious and judgmental, especially if you come from somewhere like Indiana. So you’d kept your head down and finished school alone, only to move back home with a useless degree, in thousands of dollars of debt, and with a brother in prison.

At least now my brother’s home, you think, trying to assuage the shame spiral. Home and as oblivious as ever, inviting Eddie to the bar.

You rise late, sunshine leaking into your second floor bedroom, provoking a groan from deep within your tired gut. Eddie’s here, in Hawkins. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, even longer since you’ve spoken. It leaves you with a lot of nagging questions you’re not sure you want the answers to.

You roll over, wrestling with your sheets tangled around your bare legs. You barely remember coming home, having blacked out the night with a red, angry rage that seems to have subsided with the night. You’re calmer now, almost zen.

Almost, until you remember what you’ve promised tonight. Parties aren’t usually of any concern; a few old friends and maybe a couple college kids with nothing better to do, but you dread it all the same. Eddie used to frequent Steve’s house parties to deal, even after you’d stopped speaking to him. Something about being “easy money,” he’d drunkenly explained to you once. You hope it doesn’t mean he’ll pick up the habit again, but you know deep down how naive that is.

“What’s the party even for?” You lean over the kitchen island to steal a chip from the bag, and Steve smacks your hand out of the way.

“Who says there has to be a reason for a party?”

“Anyone who wants to keep their house clean, for one.” Robin sneaks in from behind, snatching a handful of potato chips before Steve can catch her. “And I, for one, never agreed to hosting this party.”

“Co-hosting,” Steve reminds her, “and if you must know, it’s a party for Chris.”

“Didn’t we just have one of those?” You groan, and Robin hands you a chip, as if to apologize.

“Yeah, but that was nothin’. No offense, obviously I love your mom and the bar, but, cmon, you know he wants a rager.”

You really can’t argue with that, so you divert. “And you feel responsible to throw him?”

Steve presses his lips together, unable to combat the question. “We’re friends. Plus, it gives Robin an excuse to see Nance.” The last part is barely audible, but both you and Robin catch it, locking eyes, and she blushes. Nancy Wheeler, the Hawkins Girl Next door. Robin’s been pining over her since senior year of high school, with nothing to show for it.

Robin is harder to say no to than Steve. “Ugh, fine. I have one condition if you want me at this party.

Steve crosses his arms. “Bee, I can’t just not invite him.”

You shrug. “Okay, fine. Have a good time, let me know how it goes.” You grab your coat from the rack for emphasis.

“You’re bluffing.”

“You willing to bet on that?”

“What is your thing with him anyway?” Robin asks between munching on her chips, searching your face for a giveaway. “Like, I know he was there when Chris got cuffed, but is it really his fault your brother got caught?”

You’d never told your friends that Eddie had confessed, testified against your brother. Truthfully, you’d figured they’d find out on their own. You didn’t want to sway their opinions, you’d all been in the same friend group. Even now, you can’t bring yourself to explain the whole thing. “It’s a really, really long story that will kill the mood to tell.”

Steve huffs, hands on his hips. “You know I can’t use that to justify not inviting him.”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m gonna be pissy all night.”

He cracks a smile. “Whatever keeps you entertained, dork.”

Steve leaves you in charge of the music, giggling to yourself as you scroll through his playlist titles: Sad Boy Autumn, Night of Clubbin’, Hot Steve Summer. You land on his Party Rock Anthems, and scroll through what Steve believes to be, according to the playlist description, “The Ultimate House Party Jams.” What a fuckin’ dweeb. The first song to play when you shuffle is 365 by Charli XCX and you can't help but burst into laughter. He’s not wrong, of course, but you can’t even slightly believe that Steve has listened to this song, let alone added it to a playlist.

“Great choice!” A voice, light as a bell, rings from behind you, and you turn to greet its owner only to be met face to face with Chrissy Cunningham. The second to last person you’d expect to know this song.

“Oh, yeah,” You stutter, unsure of how to respond. You wouldn’t call yourself a 365 party girl, especially not right now.

“You here with anyone?” Her ponytail swings as she cocks her head to the side, inspecting you.

“Uh, nah, not really. Chris is my brother, this party’s for him.”

“Oh, yeah! You’re Bee, right?”

“To some,” You laugh nervously, hating to be preceded by your brother’s reputation. “And you’re Chrissy, right? I didn’t know you knew him.”

“Oh, I don’t really. I’m here on a date.”

“Who’s your-“

“Hey, baby.” No. God, no fucking way. Eddie seemingly appears from nowhere, sliding his arm around Chrissy’s waist, hand playfully low on her hip. Suddenly, you’re seething, teeth clenched together and you’re convinced you can feel the beginning of a migraine. “What’s got you talkin’ to the wet blanket? Drink not strong enough?” He eyes you, amused by the way your eye twitches.

“Eddie! Be nice, this is Chris’s sister!”

Eddie scoffs at her, head thrown back. “I know, Princess. Tweety and I go way back.”

“I thought you said your name was Bee?”

You shrug. “It’s one of ‘em. Tweety, however, is not.” Not anymore, but you don’t add that part out loud.

“Whatever. C’mon, let me introduce you to the other, way less sexy Chris.” And without another glance your way, Eddie takes his girl into the backyard.

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You mutter, adding another, much less fun song to the queue.

“Okay, enough moping!” Robin snatches your phone from you just as Julien Baker’s voice starts in, quickly switching it back to Steve’s clubbing playlist. “C’mon, let’s go dance!”

“Only if I can get another drink first.” Your rum and coke is gone, and you’re feeling far too sober to be in the same room as Eddie, let alone his date. The thought sends chills of what you can only assume are disgust up your spine. Poor Chrissy, Eddie must have charmed her into going out with him, how else do you explain that couple? What lies did he tell her to convince her he’s a decent enough guy?

“Hey, stop seething, I can see the foam about to come out of your mouth.” Robin snaps you out of seeing red, handing you a hard cider that you pout at. “I wanted a dirty shirley.”

“And I want you alive in the morning to help me clean this place up. As the host, I win by default.”

You huff dramatically, but take the can anyway. “Can you believe Eddie convinced Chrissy to come here with him?”

Robin only shrugs. “He’s not a bad guy, Beebs. I think deep down, you know that.”

You bite your tongue. It is not your place. Your personal grievances are not your friends’ problems. “Maybe, but they’re so different.”

Robin shrugs. “It was either Chrissy or—“ She cuts herself off abruptly, and when you try to meet her eyes she averts them.

“Or who, Rob?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, never mind. Hey, look! Your brother’s here!”

You cock an eyebrow at her, but she’s not budging, pointing towards the entryway where your brother is being greeted in all directions. Someone hands him a beer, while another friend sparks a joint before passing it to him. It amazes you how loved your brother is after the hell he raises, and people barely register you exist, let alone that you’re his sister.

“Hey, kiddos!” Chris breaks away from his mob of fans to greet you and Robin, embracing you both in a group hug. Luckily, your brother doesn’t give a shit about how cool the rest of Hawkins thinks you are. He offers a hand out to Steve behind you. “Thank you for putting all this together, man. Means a lot.” Robin opens her mouth to argue, but closes it when Chris looks at her. “And thank you for letting him destroy your place for the night. I’ll help you with the damage in the morning.” He winks at Robin, who gives him the biggest toothy smile possible.

“Chris, man, you comin’ out? We’re playin’ beer pong.” One of Chris’s buddies, Gareth, offers him the tiny plastic ball.

“Oh, fuck yeah, man. But only if you’re on my team, I'm not losing to you and Eds at my own party.”

It’s three rounds before Chris and Steve convince you to play, Gareth having tapped out for the night to puke in the bushes. Eddie snickers to his cronies as you approach the table, sliding your windbreaker from your arms. For some reason, the exposure of your skin shuts him up, and you flex your fingers dramatically before plucking the ball from Steve’s hand. “You’re goin’ down, Sweetheart.” Eddie jabs his ringed pointer finger at you, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

He seems to notice his slip up, clearing his throat dramatically. “You gonna play, or what?”

You blink once, twice before nodding, suddenly feeling the effects of your earlier drinks. Have you eaten tonight?

You aim as well as your body allows, managing to sink the ball into the back corner cup. Your friends cheer, high diving each other before each extending a hand to you, and Eddie groans, removing the plastic before downing the cup and removing it from the lineup. “Beginner’s luck.”

“Oh, please!” Robin scolds from beside you. “Ballsy for someone to say after losing two out of the last three.” The small crowd of gathered acquaintances chuckle, earning a weak glare from a very intoxicated Eddie before he sets up his shot, effortlessly dropping the ball into the center cup. You begrudgingly remove it, chugging the lukewarm beer while your friends cheer and boo, all in good fun.

It mostly continues like that, a neck and neck game between your team consisting of you, Chris, and Steve against Eddie, Jeff, and a very giggly Chrissy. By the end, the backyard is on a tilted axis, and only one cup remains in front of either team.

“You ready to tap yet?” Eddie taunts, though he’s been leaning over the table for the last couple rounds, arms bracing him from falling to the ground.

“You wish, Munson.” And you let it fly, but your face falls when you realize you’d been too cocky, too soon. It bounces higher than you’d anticipated, sailing right over the cup and onto the ground, everyone’s eyes glued to it. “Fuck.” Robin snickers and you snap your head to glare at her. “Thank you for that vote of confidence.” You sneer, and she stifles another giggle fit.

“This is it, honey, for all the marbles.” You think he’s talking to Chrissy until he winks directly at you, the corner of his mouth pinching into a smirk. You look from him to his date to find her pouting, eyebrows scrunched together and arms crossed. You raise an eyebrow, unsure how to reassure the former cheerleader.

While you’re not looking, Eddie sinks the ball. Which, let’s be honest, you knew that was coming. You roll your eyes and lift the piss flavored drink to your lips, chugging with an open throat to avoid tasting it. Your friends and brother cheer you on, and when you slam the solo cup onto the table, you let out a massive belch. Eddie’s grin has split into a toothy beam, eyes wide with wonder, penetrating your very soul. Fuckin’ weirdo.

When your dizziness has subsided, you find Robin on the makeshift dance floor, a drink dangerously spilling over in her hand. “Hey, grouchy!” She calls you over, beckoning with her dance moves. You play along, pretending to be roped in by her lasso. “What’s got you all frowny now?”

You shrug, shaking your hips to a song you can’t place, trying to enjoy your buzz now that you’re not seeing double. “Guess I’m taking beer pong too seriously.”

Robin snorts. “Please, when have you ever given a shit about stupid drinking games?”

“I guess since Chris is home. Wanted to impress him.” Robin eyes you, biting her lip. “What?” You pry, and when she doesn’t answer, poke her in the ribs. “Cmon, spit it out.”

“I don’t think it was Chris you were trying to impress.” She winces, awaiting an outburst that doesn’t come. Instead, you reply with a monotone “Excuse me?”

She smiles tensely, all teeth and gums. “Sorry, I call em like I see em.” Robin’s eyes slide past you, landing over your shoulder. When you snap your head to find what she’s looking at, your eyes fall on Eddie, a beer forgotten in his hand as he whispers in Chrissy’s ear. He must be hilarious, because she can’t stop fucking laughing.

“Oh, you can’t be serious. You think I'm worried about what Munson has to say about me?”

She refocuses on your face, brows furrowed. ��Maybe not what he has to say, but definitely what he thinks.” You gape at her, unable to respond with something clever. She only pats your shoulder. “It’s alright, you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“Okay, everyone out. You don’t have to go home, but ya can’t stay here.” Steve is waving people out the door, thanking them for destroying his and Robin’s apartment with a tired smile on his face. Finally, shuts the door. “That everyone?”

“Uh, no. We have some stragglers.”

Steve looks around the main room, then the kitchen. “Where?”

Robin juts her thumb to Steve’s bedroom. “Sorry, man.” You stifle a giggle with a cough, throwing another beer can into the recycling bin.

“Every damn time!” Steve stomps up to the door and starts banging. “Hey, party’s over. Put your pants back on!” He throws his bedroom door open, and you and Robin peer over his shoulders like noisy children.

“Whoa!” The larger figure scrambles, throwing the duvet over their head, while the smaller one shrieks, covering her face as Steve flicks the light on.

“Oh, come on. Eddie?”

“Hi, Stevie.” He slowly emerges from the blanket. “Funny running into you here.”

“It’s my room, idiot! Get out!”

“Okay, okay! Shit, I thought you wanted my help cleaning this shithole tomorrow!”

Steve huffs. “Doesn’t mean you can occupy my room and soil my sheets like this.”

Eddie gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m very clean, just had all my shots.” Steve only glares, but he gets the message across. “Okay! Damn. Sorry, Chrissy. I’ll call you, yeah?”

The girl rolls her eyes, face still cherry red. “Whatever, Eddie.” She snatches her shirt off the ground, and Steve turns to give her privacy. “Sorry, Steve. He said it was okay.” She avoids your eyes as she leaves, Eddie waving goofily behind her. Something in your chest hurts, and you chock it up to rage.

“You want sloppy seconds, Bee?”

You ignore him, and make your way back to the kitchen to rage clean. Over your shoulder, you hear your brother exclaims something, but you can’t make it out.

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children-of-the-grave · 11 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter I: I Can Still Hold A Knife

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev.

a/n: aaaaaand we’re off! Thanks for joining me on yet another can of worms i’ve opened! use comments/ask box to join the…

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever

chapter tags: language, swearing | fic tags: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, modern!au, angst, time jumps, fem!oc!reader x eddie munson. this fic is rated 18+ MDNI

—

present day

The Hideout is busier than usual for a Saturday. The floors are slightly stickier, more drinks spilled than swallowed by your usual crowd of drunks, and it’s a lot louder. It’s partially your doing; the virtual fliers are plastered all over the bar’s socials, reading WELCOME HOME CHRIS in big, block letters over a picture of your brother smiling widely, a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. The last few years had been hard for you without him, but compared to your shared group of friends, you’d probably had the easiest time.

The day he’d gotten arrested, you were moving into your apartment across town, finally out from under your parents’ roof after repeatedly assuring them you’d be extra careful. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust you, but they were extra protective of their only daughter. The hovering only increased when Chris got locked up.

In the six years without him, though, you’ve grown into your independence, adapting to the abandonment with ease, resentment festering in your gut.

”Beebs!” Your mother summons you back to the present with her affectionate nickname, and you pivot to where she stands on the stage, adjusting the mic stand.

”Yeah, Ma?”

”Can you come check the levels for me, dear? I gotta sign for the cake.”

You nod, and take her place onstage, mumbling into the microphone while Mark plays on the soundboard. Eventually, he gives you the thumbs up, and you retreat back behind the bar before any of the regulars can start a conversation.

“Okay, Chris just called, he’s five minutes away!” Your mom makes the announcement to your guests with false confidence. You know your mother, and she’d never admit it, but she’s one hundred percent freaking out about your brother coming home. Her only son, her firstborn, possibly destroyed by the traumas of prison. You won’t be the one to tell he was probably running the place after six months. The guests, Chris’s friends as well as yours, take their hiding positions as your mother goes about dimming the lights. You duck behind the bar as your heart rate increases, your throat closing, body shaking.

“He’s coming!” Someone whisper-yells, and follows it with a “SHHH!”

You hear the door creaking as it swings open. “Ma? Why’s the light off—?”

”WELCOME HOME, CHRIS!” The room erupts in cheers as the lights are flicked on, revealing what you can only assume is your big brother, standing in the doorway. He’s bigger, more muscular than the day he’d left, but he still wears that smug grin and that eager mischief in his green eyes. The smile on his face stretches when he catches your eye, and you can’t help but return it with a big, cheesy one of your own. He turns to your mother, enveloping her in a suffocating hug before turning to where you stand.”Hi, Beebs.”

You roll your eyes as he smothers you in a hug. “I’m too old for that nickname.” You mumble it unconvincingly into his jacket.

“Oh, my apologies. What would you like me to call you?”

You ignore him, instead inhaling your brother’s familiar scent of smoke and leather. “I missed you, Crispy.”

“Missed you too, kiddo.”

Two hours later, and the party’s still in full swing. It seems the entire town has stopped by to congratulate your brother on his freedom, despite half of Hawkins’ residents despising him. You’re tending bar, trying to keep track of who you’ve already cut off, and which patrons are on which tabs. Cold glasses leave condensation behind on the sticky wooden counter, The Hideout has never been fancy enough for coasters.

The doors swing open again, and the faces you’ve yearned for all night enter your eye line. You can’t help but squeal as you run from behind the bar as your mom begins taking your friends’ coats.

“Oh my god, Bee!” Robin Buckley opens her arms and you practically fall into them. “It’s so good to see you, what’s it been? A hundred years?”

You snicker. “Close! Six weeks.” You let go and move to the man next to her. “Hi, handsome.” You wrap your arms around Steve Harrington’s waist, and he drapes his around your head.

“Hey, beautiful. How’s your dad?”

“He’s good, the usual.” Your parents had divorced shortly after Chris’s arrest, your dad moving to New York to escape the judgment of the neighbors.

You soak in the sight of your friends, beaming at them. They haven’t changed a bit, save maybe for a haircut and a few more smile lines on their pretty faces. You can’t imagine how you must appear to them, face worn with age and worry.

Before you can catch up, though, the bar door flies open again. The sight before you knocks the wind from your lungs, your jaw unhinged and falling to the floor. Your tongue feels heavy, uncomfortable in your mouth, and your palms start to sweat. A vision of faded denim and worn leather, noisy chains clanking on his jeans, silver gaudy rings catching the dim lights of the bar as he nervously wrings his hands together. His hair is windblown, and an unlit cigarette is clenched between slightly crooked teeth. The bar has gone almost completely silent.

“Hey, everyone.” Eddie Munson finally speaks, and your fists clench.

“Now that feels like a hundred years ago.” Steve mumbles, and Robin stabs him with her elbow.

It takes everything in you not to scream as you approach your mother, who’s taken your place behind the bar to satiate the patrons no longer interested in your brother’s arrival.

“Mom!”

“Hi, baby! Can you come help me back here?” She’s fighting with the soda nozzle. “I think this one’s empty.”

“Mom, why is he here?” You’re speaking low, afraid of someone overhearing.

“Why is who here? You’ll have to be more specific, dear.”

“Please don’t play stupid. Why is Eddie here?”

Your question stops her fiddling with the soda gun. “Eddie’s here?”

You gape at her, practically seething. “He walked in like ten minutes ago!”

“Honey, I had no idea he’d show up! Chris must have invited him. Are you alright?”

It puts you at ease knowing your mom had nothing to do with this sabotage, but you’re filled with rage at hearing your brother might have. “I’ll be fine. Leave it to Chris to piss me off as soon as he’s a free man.” You take the soda nozzle from your mother, needing to let out your aggression. You shake it like you would a snake attempting to sink its teeth into your flesh, wrestling with the piece until something gives, spraying club soda all over you and the bar top. “Shit!” You throw it down, and it continues releasing into the space around you, as if aiming for your wet, sticky downfall. “God dammit.”

Your mother bites her top lip, holding back a cackle. “I think we lost this battle, babes.”

“Ma!” He hops over the counter, less than gracefully, landing right in the puddle. “You cool if we play a couple? For old time’s sake?” Chris widens his eyes, giving your mother his best sad puppy look.

Your mother rolls her eyes. “Only if your sister’s okay with it.”

You drop your jaw in mock offense. “Why me?!”

“Please, Birdie!” Chris turns to you, that same stupid look on his face. “I know you miss it too.”

You groan, caving to your brother’s wish. “Fine! But I’m staying at the bar.”

He chuckles at you. “Yeah, we’ll see about that!” And he’s off, gathering his friends by the side of the stage. You look to your mother, who only motions to the crowd forming as Chris climbs on to the stage. Behind him are three more boys clad in denim and leather, chains and zippers catching the lights. You catch Robin and Steve making their way into the crowd, and you follow them before you can think better of it. They greet you with a cheer, Robin with a slightly cocked eyebrow. “How’d they convince you to come over here?”

You scoff. “Chris pulled the got out of jail card.” It earns a laugh from your friends.

“Hello, Hideout!” Chris speaks into the mic, earning the attention from the whole room. “My name is Chris L/n, and as of this morning, I’m a free man, baby!” The room shakes with whoops and hollers, wolf whistles of approval, or just drunk excitement. You clap along, heart thumping irrationally out of your chest for a reason you can’t pinpoint, that is until the house lights dim.

Chris, though charismatic and charming, is not a front man. When he’s on that stage, he’s the brother you remember; focused, driven, passionate. You’ve never seen someone play the drums like him, never been so interested in the drummer until you had a chance to watch your brother. When he sits behind his kit, though, the attention of the crowd is drawn elsewhere.

You're not special, you know that. Just like everyone else, you can’t help but watch the spectacle in front of you. The spotlight hits him as he climbs the stairs, guitar draped across his torso, frizzy curls already stuck to his skin with sweat. You clench your fists, nails digging into your flesh to ground yourself. He approaches the microphone as the music swells, a drumroll building as distorted guitars wail in unison.

“It is so nice to see all of your familiar, sweaty faces.” He starts, voice low and breathy, and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Welcome to the show. My name is Eddie. We are Corroded Coffin, thanks for comin’ out!” They go into their first song, and the crowd starts jumping, hands in the air. Even Robin, who’s stood by you these past six years, is letting her guard down, head bobbing to the rhythm. You try not to glare at your best friend, you know she can’t help it. You barely can, the music is painfully difficult not to move to.

It’s then he catches you, far too close to the stage to avoid his eyeline. “I see you, Bird. I know you wanna dance.” Robin nudges you, nose wrinkled with glee as you let the tension melt, head rocking back and forth as the music swells to its peak, signaling the end of the antics. Chris crashes his symbols, and they fade seamlessly into the first song, successfully convincing the crowd to move. A pit opens up towards the back, and you stand on the edge as Steve and Robin two step together, smiles stretched across their faces.

It’s 2am when you ring the last call bell, only to be answered with disappointed groans. You start pouring ice water into tiny cups, lining the bar with them for the exiting crowd. When the last stragglers step over the threshold, you’re approached from behind.

“Need some help cleanin’ up?” The voice sends a chill down your spine, so close you feel his breath on your neck.

Normally, you’d insist you didn’t want his help, but it was a busy, rowdy night. Your shoes stick to the floor, and you could use an extra set of hands, regardless of house calloused.

“Grab a rag.” You lazily point to the sink behind you, and Eddie eagerly hops to it.

“You like the set tonight?” He’s talking to you. Why is he talking to you? You respond with a “Hmm,” suddenly extremely interested in cleaning the bar.

“Felt pretty good to be back up there, y’know with the whole band.” You don’t respond, scrubbing a particularly sticky spot on the edge of the counter. “Saw you dancin’ out there. You look good. It’s nice to see you.”

You snap. “Enough. Stop talking to me. Clean the damn counter.” He chuckles, fucking giggles. Your irritation doesn’t phase him, but he obliges and sprays the counter down. The rest of the night is spent in silence, save for the low music humming from the house speakers.

“Hey home safe, Tweety.” He has the gall to use the nickname he’d given you in high school, rolling off his tongue like an old friend. Before you can respond, he’s crossing the street to where his van is parked, cigarette hanging between his lips. When you’re sure he’s out of earshot, you let out a guttural groan, effectively shredding your vocal cords for the rest of the night.

Once in your car, your safe place, you scream.

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children-of-the-grave · 11 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Prologue

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fic tags: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, modern!au, angst, time jumps, oc!reader x eddie munson. this fic is rated 18+ MDNI chapter tags: swearing… that’s it for now. teehee

a/n: hello and thanks for reading! chapter one will be posted shortly after this! i really hope you guys enjoy, and please leave me comments!!! reblogs also appreciated greatly!

taglist (comment/ask to be added!) @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever

—

September, six years ago

Red and brown leaves crunch under your boots as you rush across the commons, phone glued to your ear as your brother’s rants berate you from the other end of the line. You’re missing out on weekend tips to deal with your burn out brother and his stupid friends.

“You didn’t think you’d have to get your story straight just in case you got arrested?!”

“I didn’t really consider it a possibility. I was thinking positively!”

You groan, shoving your key into the ignition of your death trap of a car. “Well, the power of manifestation won’t help you now.”

“Will you please just come pick me up?” You almost tease him about the desperation in his voice, but something tells you it’s a bad idea.

“Yeah, whatever. How much is bail?”

“Ah, forget bail, sis. You’re gonna have to use that money for my lawyer.”

“What the fuck did you do, Chris?”

He stole a car.

Not just any car; a vintage, 1967 Cherry Chevy Camaro belonging to none other than Officer Carver. What a fucking moron.

Carver’s had it out for your brother since he was promoted to Chief of Police, not that Chris didn’t make himself an easy target. At fourteen, your older brother made a habit of stealing from the corner store near your house. He’d come home out of breath, backpack stuffed with a six pack and several candy bars he'd used to bribe you not to tell your parents. You’d taken them with little more than an annoyed huff then, but this wasn’t just cheap beer and a couple Milky Ways. This was the Chief’s car, his baby. You’re pretty sure he loves that thing more than his own son. It would explain a lot. You get to the station as the sun is setting, tinting the sky with orange hues. Inside, it’s mostly quiet save for the phone ringing and the chatter of a couple uniforms. “Hi,” you greet the secretary, who looks bored beyond her years as she types away on her ancient computer. “I’m here to see my brother, Chris L/n.”

She directs you down the hall, where the sole cell in the building holds your big brother inside, sitting on the wooden bench with his head down.

”Hey, idiot.” He looks up, face splitting into a shit eating grin.

”Hey, little sis.”

”What the fuck did you do?”

He snickers, as if this is just another prank, a practical joke! “Thought it would be fun to take Carver’s bird out for a joy ride, sue me!”

“He’s doing worse than suing you, Chris! He’s pressing charges!”

He snorts, then attempts to hide it with a cough. “Yeah, but it was worth it.”

You groan at your brother. “How’d he catch you?”

Chris shrugs. “His partner was out on patrol or something, obviously recognized his own car. Caught us red handed.”

”Us? What poor sap agreed to this stupid idea?”

Chris’s smile is seemingly slapped off of his face. “No one. Did I say us? I meant me. He caught me.”

”Chris-“

”Miss? You need to leave, we’re transporting this suspect to the penitentiary shortly.” The secretary hadn’t made a peep behind you, causing you to jump at her voice. She escorts you back to the lobby, where she hands you your cell phone and keys back. You’re about to leave when you hear his voice from across the room.

“You’re free to go this time, Munson, but don’t think I won’t have my eyes on you.”

The boy chuckles as Carver removes his handcuffs. “Oh, I’m sure you will, big guy.”

one year later

The gavel hits the wood. Chris is sentenced to five years in prison for grand theft auto. His fate had been sealed when Eddie took the stand, testifying as a witness. “I was in the car with him. I told him to stop, but I couldn’t convince him.” You watch, stunned into silence, as your brother is taken in handcuffs to the big house, the same cocky smirk still on his lips.

Eddie got one hundred hours of community service, because he’s eighteen with no priors, but you can’t help fuming as you watch him walk free; someone you used to call a friend, someone your brother cherished so much, turned completely against the both of you. How fucking dare he.

chapter I

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children-of-the-grave · 1 year ago

Text

Soundtrack To Disaster

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Summary: After six years in jail, your older brother is welcomed home with open arms. With him, he invites a whirlwind of chaos, turning life as you know it upside down. the catastrophes of your teenage years rise to the surface. The past is slowly unburied as you attempt to cope with people you once loved re-entering your life without warning or permission.

Tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

Author’s Note: Uh oh, Willow got another long form fic idea, someone stop them! I’ve been workshopping this story for a few months now, and i’m really excited to finally tell you guys! Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list when I post a new chapter!

Prologue and Chapter I coming October 1st

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children-of-the-grave · 1 year ago

Text

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XXIV: I’m Not Gonna Crack

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summary: you’re spending your first week in months away from your band, your friends, and eddie.

a/n: wasn’t sure how to end this chapter but i will say i split it into two so maybe the next one will be out sooner than ya think. i can’t promise anything though sorry!

cw: angst, misunderstandings, silent treatment, i will never let these two catch a break sorry! , descriptions of nightmares

—

October 1986

Your POV

“I don’t get it.” You shake your head, willing yet another image of your boyfriend dying from your brain. “Shouldn’t you be getting these nightmares, too? Don't get me wrong, I’m glad you’re not. They’re fucking awful, but… You were down there, too. You saw it.”

Eddie shrugs. “I do get nightmares. I’ve had plenty of screaming fits that Wayne has had to jostle me from. You probably won’t ever see that, though.”

You wait for him to continue. “I don’t get them when I’m with you. Not that I can remember, anyway. I always wake up well rested. Not to brag, or anything.” He gives you a goofy grin, and you blush at the sight.

“Damn, I must suck, putting you through this. At least you have the decency not to wake me up.” You’re trying to be funny, but Eddie pouts at your words.

“Nah, I’m being selfish, sleeping next to you every night so I don’t wake up screaming. I’d much prefer to wake up to… well, you screaming, I guess. Though, I do wish I could make your nightmares stop.”

Your smile falters at that. “Yeah. Me too. I’m sorry, Eds.”

He shakes his head, tickling your nose with the ends of his hair. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. Just know I’ve got you, I’m gonna be here when you wake up. I promise.”

—

present day

Eddie’s POV

“Call someone when you land?” Steve pats him on the back, letting the hug linger a little longer than Eddie would usually let him. Eddie nods into his shoulder, only keeping his grip on Steve until he’s sure he won’t choke. Goodbyes are being exchanged by those leaving for LA, and those taking their month off elsewhere. Robin lets her grip on you loosen, only for you to pull her back in with a dramatic outcry. She’ll only be a state or two away, but you haven’t spent more than a few hours apart since the beginning of the summer. Eddie supposes it’s sweet, the way you two lean on each other.

“Hey, you ready?” Gareth nudges him back to the present, where his plane is about to fly him twelve hundred miles away from you, mere hours after you’d both stopped avoiding each other. What kind of cosmic bullshit is that?

“Yeah, one sec.” He drops his bag on a free seat before approaching you, a blubbering Robin still in your embrace. “Mind if I cut in?”

Robin sniffles, parting from you to roll her eyes at the pair of you. “Ugh, I guess.” She winks at Eddie, causing a fresh tear to stream down her cheek. If he didn’t understand her pain, he’d have laughed at that.

“So, I guess this is…” He has no idea what this is.

“See you later?” You offer, and he swears he hears the crack in your voice.

It spurs him on, his next words tumbling out of his mouth without a second thought. “Come with me.”

You blink up at him, eyelashes wet. “What?”

“To Hawkins. Wayne’s place is huge, he’d be so happy to have you.”

“Eddie, you know I can’t do that.” He does, of course he knows. It’s not good for you. He wouldn’t be going back if not for Wayne, if not for having nowhere else to go. “I’ll come visit, okay? I just can’t… stay there. You can also come see me. This isn’t goodbye, silly.” You bring yourself up on your toes, leaving a peck on his cheek. “I’ll see you soon, pretty boy. Call me when you get home.” You land back on your feet, but he follows you, leaning over to capture your lips with his, a kiss that feels more like goodbye than see you later.

“I love you.” He says it against your lips, refusing to detach from you just yet.

“I love you, Eddie. We gotta go, though. You’re gonna miss your flight.”

“Don’t care.” He moves from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

“Eddie,” You’re trying to scold him, but you’re weakened by his mouth on your throat. “Gonna have to fly coach at midnight… Think of all the leg room you’ll lose.”

Eddie finally pulls away from you. “Oh, the horror!” He rolls his eyes, and you giggle, beaming at him before throwing your arms around his waist, hugging him close. “I’ll see you soon, Ed.”

“Promise?”

“I do.” You give him one final squeeze before letting go, and he doesn’t try to pull you back in again. You give him a wave and he blows you a kiss. It’s gonna be a long month.

—

Your POV

Boston

Your parents greet you at Logan Airport with open arms. You run to them like a scene out of a cheesy movie, jumping into your father’s arms as your mother surrounds you both in a bear hug.

“Welcome home, baby!” Your mom holds you at arms length to take you in, and you have to wonder what she sees; does she spot the new lines etched into your face; can she see the tired way you hold yourself in her grasp? While she looks at you, your father grabs your bags from the carousel, ushering you both to the exit before you can make too big of a scene. “We missed you so much, kiddo.” Your dad loads your suitcase into the trunk of your family car, the same one you learned to drive in. You’d offered to buy them a new one, but they had insisted there was no need.

“I missed you guys, too. I’m really glad to be home.”

“We have so much to catch up on.” Your mom pats your knee enthusiastically from the front seat. “I have so many questions!” She’s giddy, and you try your best to keep a smile plastered on your face when you know she’s about to drill you on the events of the last month or so. You watch the city pass you by through the window as your dad throws on his turn signal, merging onto the highway, taking you further away from everything you’d called home these past few weeks.

—

Eddie’s POV

Hawkins

The sun is setting by the time the cab pulls up to Wayne’s house. He has no idea Eddie’s home, and Eddie suddenly regrets not telling him. What if Wayne doesn’t want him here? What if he’s interrupting the old man’s routine? What if he’d gotten a girlfriend while Eddie was away?

He grabs his bag from the trunk before paying the driver, adding a hefty tip to thank him for driving so far out of the city, and takes one final deep breath before knocking on the hefty front door. At first there’s no answer, not even the gruff “hang on” that he’s expecting to hear mumbled from his uncle. He’s about to knock again when the door swings open, revealing his disheveled old man, wrapped in a bathrobe, eyes heavy with sleep. Maybe he should have given him a heads up.

“Hey, Wayne.” It comes out as a sigh, exhausted as his uncle looks.

“No shit. ‘M I dreamin’ or something? C’mere, boy!” Wayne yanks his nephew over the threshold, pulling him into an almost suffocating hug. “They finally kick you out of the band?” He jokes, suddenly perky for someone that looks like he’d just woken up.

“Very funny. Nah, I figured I needed to come watch over my old man before he croaks from isolation.” Eddie drops his bag on the kitchen counter as he slides off his shoes, making himself comfortable in the house he still can’t believe exists.

“Good one. But seriously, and don’t take this the wrong way, why are you here?”

“What, can’t a guy spend his month off from tour with the man that raised him?”

Wayne chuckles, pulling out one of the dining room chairs to sit across from Eddie. “‘Course you can. Jus’ curious why you’d do such a thing, and not say a peep about it!”

“Honest, I didn’t even commit to coming until I got on the plane, didn’t wanna make any empty promises. If I’m interrupting something though, I can go—“

“Oh shut up, kid. Of course you’re not interruptin’. How else are you gonna catch me up on all the Hollywood gossip?” The sarcasm is palpable in his uncle's voice, but Eddie indulges anyway. “Ah, right, the Hollywood gossip you care so much about.”

“I care when it’s about my kid and his, whatcha call ‘em, sweetheart?”

Eddie tenses immediately, posture straightening as Wayne doubles over the table with laughter. “Oh relax Ed, I’m only yankin’ your chain!”

“Are you though?”

Wayne purses his lips. “I guess there’s some truth to it. How are you holdin’ up?”

Eddie wants to tell him everything. Wayne’s the only person his whole life he’s never felt the need to lie to, or to even sugarcoat the bad things. Wayne was there when he was framed for murder, he was there when you and Eddie had broken up. The only reason Wayne doesn’t know it all is because of Eddie.

“I’m doin’ alright, pops. Truthfully.”

“Yeah? And how’s…” He trails off, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Y/n is good. We’re good.”

“For Christsake Ed, give me something to work with here.”

“We decided to start again. Strings attached and all that shit.”

Wayne perks slightly at the confession. “No shit. How in the world did you get ‘em to go for that?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Ye of little faith. Turns out they’ve loved me this whole time. Hard to believe, I know.”

It’s Wayne’s turn to roll his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how I could’ve raised such an oblivious kid, y’know.”

“How rude!”

He chuckles, standing from his seat at the dining table. “Look, as much as I wanna hear about it, and trust me I do, I gotta get to bed. Your room’s the way you left it, but if you plan on staying I’ll need help with groceries tomorrow.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

“And Ed,” Wayne pauses in the door frame, hand on the light switch. “I’m really happy to hear about you and Y/n. Do what you can not to fuck it up this time.” He switches the light, leaving Eddie in the dim of the dining room.

Your POV

“So…” Your dad starts, ending the dreadfully awkward silence over dinner. You twirl spaghetti around your fork sloppily, trying to appear focused on your technique. “How’s Eddie?”

Your mother, sipping her wine, chokes back a laugh, but recovers quickly. You feel eighteen again, shy and anxious about your parents’ curiosity of your love life.

“What about him?” You mumble, not daring to look up from your plate.

“How is he? A-and you? How are you doing, being with him? Wait, not with him—“

“Honey?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Shut up, my love.”

“Yes, dear.”

You blink at your parents, rosy cheeked and gleeful, giddy with each other’s presence. They make it look so easy, and you almost hate them for it. “It’s fine, I guess. Why do you care?”

Your words seem to wipe the smile off your father’s face. “Because you don’t call! All we know about what’s going on, it’s from stupid tabloids and bullshit television. We worry, Y/n.”

“Before you argue, we know you’re an adult, but you’ve gone through so much, so quickly. It would be hard for anyone. We wanted to be there for you, and you iced us out. We still don’t know what happened to you when—“

“Don’t.” You say it through your teeth, willing the tears not to fall. Before either of your parents can say more, you shove yourself from the table, abandoning your now cold pasta and garlic bread. As if you’re still in high school, you stomp up to the guest room, slamming the door behind you.

—

It’s not home. It’s a brownstone on a nice street filled with showroom furniture, smelling of overpriced candles you give your mom for christmas every year. You’d never lived here, and now your idea to come back seems stupid. Your dad’s right, you didn’t even call.

The phone rings then, freeing you from your increasingly frustrating thoughts.

“L/n Residence, Y/n speaking.” You answer, flopping down on the guest bed like it’s yours; like you’d never left, like it’s normal for you to answer the phone here.

“Hey, you.” His voice washes over you, soothing you instantly. You’re eighteen. Nothing bad has happened. It’s the furthest thing from painful.

“Hey, Eds.” You practically sigh, like you’d been holding your breath for days. “How was your flight?”

—

Eddie’s POV

“Eh, nothing special. Neck hurts like a mother.” He rubs the back of his neck as he speaks, attempting to massage out the kinks. What he wouldn’t do to have your hands in place of his right now. “You get home okay?”

“Yeah, guess you could say that.” He notices the hesitant tone, the way it dips when you speak.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Hm.” He barely hears you sigh into the receiver. “Don't wanna be a downer.”

“Nothin’ wrong with being a downer every once in a while. What’s wrong?” Eddie rolls onto his back, spread across his king bed, relishing in all the space, imagining you filling it.

“Just. Doesn’t really feel like home anymore.” He gets it. Hawkins feels less like home now than the tour bus, he has nothing to hold onto. There is nothing here for him he couldn’t find somewhere else. It’s not like you’re still here.

“I guess I know what you mean.”

—

It’s 2am when he hears you snore into the receiver. As much as he’d like to stay on the line to listen to your breathing, he can’t rack up Wayne’s phone bill like that, even if he can afford to pay for it. Eddie drops the phone back into its place, and switches off the bedside lamp.

—

He finds himself in the cafeteria, back at the Hellfire table, but it’s empty. The room around him bustles, voices blending together to create a harsh ringing in his ears. The flourescent lights flicker every few seconds, causing his eye to twitch.

“Eddie…” It’s barely audible, but he can almost feel the breath on the back of his neck. The voice is warm, familiar, sweet as honey. When he whips around, no one’s there, and the cafe goes silent, like a television on mute.

“Eddie…” It’s louder this time, coming from no direction in particular, without background noise to drown it out.

The cafeteria is deserted now, and dark. “Eddie…” Like it’s being spoken over the PA system, summoning him to get chewed out by the principal. Something tells him to find it. He gets up, searching desperately for the source.

“Eddie…” Louder now, he can tell he’s making progress. He can feel it in his gut, he knows where to look. Eddie bursts into what he knows should be Principal Coleman’s office, but instead ends up back in his trailer. Well, not actually his trailer, but the sick imitation of it he’d only seen one other time.

“Eddie…” It’s pitch black, but the voice is right in front of him. “Come here, pretty boy.”

No. He’s frozen, unable to keep moving. It’s not them, he reassures himself. This isn’t real.

“It’s very real, Eddie.” Your voice rings through his thoughts, shattering the barrier he’d begun to build. “It’s me.”

Eddie takes one more step forward, to where a figure sits on the shredded couch, face shrouded in darkness.

“Prove it.” His voice cracks when he speaks, revealing weakness without being pressed.

Instead of responding, the figure claiming your identity stands, revealing its face to him finally. It isn’t you. The furthest thing, really. Where your eyes should sit are black, empty holes. Your skin seems to sag off your skeleton, without muscle or fat to hold it in place. Before Eddie can react, you unhinge your jaw, setting free a swarm of winged creatures that fly right at him, shrieking something awful. He swats at them, thrashing his arms as he tries to run away, willing the image of your decaying, animated corpse from his memory as he screams your name, like you’ll somehow come back to life.

“Eddie? Eddie!”

—

Eddie wakes up screaming, with Wayne’s hands on either one of his shoulders, shaking him back to life. “Eddie?! Wake up, boy, it’s not real!”

“Wayne?”

“Christ, son, what the devil was that?!”

Eddie rubs a hand down his tired face. “Bad dream.”

“Yeah, no shit. But what in the world could’ve happened to warrant that reaction?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“It is morning, Ed.”

“What?”

“It’s five am.”

He groans. “You goin’ to work?”

Wayne scoffs. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. Now talk, boy.”

Eddie surrenders, and recites everything he can remember about the terror to his uncle. He wants to throw up at the memory, the way you’d looked, the way you’d spoken to him.

“This a normal thing for you?” Wayne quirks an eyebrow. Eddie shakes his head. He hadn’t had a nightmare that bad since before going on tour.

“So, it’s bein’ home then.” Its not a question, but Eddie shakes his head in disagreement.

“This isn’t home anymore, Wayne. It’s because I’m away from home. From them.”

Wayne screws his face up in thought. “Call ‘em. Wait til the sun’s up. Chances are they feel pretty similar.”

He hates how much he wants his uncle to be right.

—

Your POV

“…and that was Nirvana’s Lithium, thank you for the request Amy, good choice…” The radio wakes you from a dreamless sleep far too early, the sun streaming through the curtain you’d forgotten to close. You groan, throwing the pillow back over your head as the phone rings.

Suddenly, you’re no longer groggy as you pick up the call, cutting the ringing off with a too eager “Hello?!”

“Good morning, sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”

Truth was, you’d slept horribly, tossing and turning without him there to ground you, but you can’t tell him that. You can’t worry him. “Eh, I slept alright, what about you?”

You hear him release a breath into the receiver. “Not great, honestly.” You regret your white lie. “Being here is hard.”

You nod before forgetting he can’t see you. “How’s Wayne?” Maybe you should’ve gone to Hawkins. Boston is starting to feel lonelier by the second.

”He’s good, same old except for the big house.” You can hear Eddie’s smile in his voice, provoking your own to spread across your cheeks. “Hey, so, I was thinking,” Eddie interrupts himself, “I could fly out there soon, maybe next week? You could show me around your old stomping grounds?”

You avoid his question with your own. “You’ve never been to Boston?”

”’Course I’ve been to Boston, but I haven’t seen it with you, y’know? I wanna learn the history from the source.”

”Such a scholar, all of a sudden?” You giggle, twirling the cord of your phone between your fingers. “It’s not much, but I’d be happy to have you.”

“Great! I’ll book the flight tonight. It’ll give me something to look forward to.”

”Can’t wait!” There’s a knock on not-your-bedroom door. “Hey, Ed, I gotta go. Call you tonight?”

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart. Talk soon.”

There’s a long pause during which you almost say “I love you” three separate times, but you don’t. The line clicks, and he’s gone.

“Y/n, sweetie! Breakfast!”

—

After you’ve stuffed your face full of your father’s chocolate chip pancakes and extra greasy bacon, you take it upon yourself to explore the city. You haven’t been here in awhile, unless you count the few hours before a show at the Paradise or Avalon opening for bands you can’t remember the names of, and you’re morbidly curious about the current state of your hometown.

The T takes you from your suburban neighborhood into the city as you gaze out the window, daydreaming. You get off at Boylston, planning to hit up your old haunts; the record stores, the coffeehouse, maybe Newbury Street now that you can afford it. Before any of that, though, you need a cigarette.

When you find the corner store, sign decayed with age, the front of the National Enquirer catches your attention. Munson’s New Boo! Source close to the rockstar confirms new fling with Bikini Kill’s Kathleen Hanna. Your blood freezes, fingers careful as they pinch the corner of the magazine. It’s not real. Nothing in here is real. You repeat the words to yourself as you peel apart the pages, searching for the story.

When you find it, the pages are overrun with pictures of Eddie. In some of them, you’re with him; before the Metallica show, at the restaurant where that guy almost kidnapped you, even one of you and him in Hawkins the night you played there, but your face is obscured by hats or hoods. In others, though, different girls are draped around him in clubs. He’s leaning into one’s shoulder, one that may or may not actually be Kathleen Hanna. One of your biggest idols. Your face heats with embarrassment as you read the sad excuse for an article.

“They’re always together,” Our anonymous source says, “Either fighting or kissing, but always attached at the hip.” From what photos we’ve seen, we can’t disagree. Munson is obsessed with Hanna, and we’re obsessed with them.

You keep reading, each sentence making you feel dirty, exposed in a way you never knew you could be. Your heart is racing as you slam your ID onto the table, demanding a pack of camels to go with your shitty magazine. The cashier, an older man with charcoal hair and bushy mustache looks from the paper to you, squinting at the small photo in the corner that looks a lot like your own side profile. He doesn’t say anything though, much to your relief. You snatch the plastic bag from him as he bids you goodbye, thick eyebrows scrunched together.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Son, what the hell is this?” Wayne has returned from the grocery store with his hands full of bags, and what looks to be a newspaper in his grip.

“What’s what?” Eddie relieves his uncle of the load, unpacking the bags as the older man slaps the paper onto the kitchen table. Eddie’s eyes slide over the headline, his smile wiped completely from his face.

“Kathleen Hanna? I met her, like, once!” Eddie sputters, ripping open the magazine. “Oh my god, what the fuck?!” He scans the article, glancing at pictures of what he knows are you with him. Except one. One from months ago, before he’d even known he’d be spending his summer with you.

—

February 1992

New York City

Limelight is dark, the dance floor grimy with remnants of beverages long lost to the art of gyrating. He’s in a corner booth, reserved for him and some friends to occupy, a gift from his club promoter friend, Barry. Bernie. Something. Eddie’s too fucked up to remember, but it doesn’t matter. Surrounding him are his band, as well as some he’d only ever heard of before tonight. Across the table is Kathleen Hanna of Bikini Kill, stunning as ever in a sheer black dress, nothing underneath. She made Eddie squirm in his seat as she uncrossed her legs, staring him down. Perched next to her is bandmate Tobi, and one table over sit Courtney and Kurt, talking amongst themselves.

It takes forever, but Eddie finally manages to approach Kathleen, only to trip and spill his beer all over himself. Somehow, though, it charms her, and she requests him to join her and her bandmates for a dance.

—

Present Day

“That must’ve been when they took the picture. I don’t know, it was so goddamn dark in there!” Eddie’s pacing his uncle’s living room while Wayne sips his coffee. “You think they saw this?”

“Who?” Wayne asks cluelessly.

“Y/n, Wayne! The one person I can’t lose the trust of right now!”

“Oh. Yeah, there’s no way they don’t know. That thing is everywhere, boy.”

“Shit. Shit!”

“Hey, calm down! It’s a misunderstanding, just call and explain it to ‘em! I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Eddie huffs. Right. Of course you’ll understand.

He punches each button of your phone number and it rings. And rings. And rings.

“You’ve reached the L/n residence, we’re unable to-“

“FUCK!” He dials again, faster.

And it rings. And rings.

—

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children-of-the-grave · 1 year ago

Text

Safe

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summary: a night out with your friends turns sour, but you’re rescued by an unexpected hero

A/N: i wrote a chapter based on this post for my main fic, but feel a desperate need to write it again putting more detail into it bc i love a fictional man covered in blood idk what to tell you!!! let me know if you want a part II, im feeling a miniverse comin’ on (dw, chapter 23 of FD is in the works, i promise!) reblogs and comments always appreciated!

tags/tw: friends to lovers, mentions of sexual harassment, blood, violence (eddie gets in a fight), swearing, slut shaming, confessions, drunkish!eddie. (lmk if i missed something!) fluff, angst, slight hurt/comfort. reader and eddie are about 22-23, out of high school, happy etc etc. best friend!robin and best friend!steve feature, of course.

—

Your friendship had been simple, at first. You and Eddie had met as kids, before boys had cooties and girls were lame. Eddie had been cornered on the playground, by some giants in the grade above you. They'd shoved him against the chain link fence, their greasy leader demanding he hand over his lunch money. When Eddie blubbered that he didn’t have any, that he hadn’t eaten lunch in weeks, the goons cackled at him, shoving him to the ground while calling him things like “trailer trash.” You couldn’t stand it, even at eleven years old. The poor kid, with hair buzzed closely to his scalp, dressed in all black, carrying around a battered notebook with doodles of dragons on its cover. Your face had warmed with anger, hands balled into fists ready to swing on the group that would outnumber you five to two, or five to one if you were being realistic. This kid clearly wasn’t a fighter.

“Hey!” You had shouted, stomping your worn out converse against the mulch of the playground. “What the hell are you doing, Jared?” You hadn’t been afraid to get in the kid’s face, brows furrowed together as you jabbed your tiny finger into his puffed out chest. “What’s he ever done to you, huh? I don’t think it’s his fault your mother left.” You know now, it wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but it had worked. Jared’s goons had gone silent, anticipating his retort, but all he’d done was cry. What a bitch.

When he’d run, tail tucked between his legs, you’d turned to the cowering boy behind you, offering your hand. “You okay?”

He’d nodded, clearly still shaken up but trying to be brave. “I can take care of myself.” Of course, it had been embarrassing. Not because you were a girl, or younger than him, but you were braver. You didn’t give a shit what people thought of you. Even then, he could tell. You were fucking cool.

”Yeah, sure looked like it. Whatever. I’m Y/n.” You held out your hand to him again, this time to shake, like you were a seasoned lawyer, or something.

“Eddie.” He’d taken your hand, given it a brief shake, but you could tell he was nervous by the way your palm stuck to his.

”Hi, Eddie. You wanna walk to Benny’s with me? Get some burgers?”

He’d shaken his head. “I don’t have money.”

You’d only shrugged. “I got it.” You didn’t think mentioning that Benny was your uncle, or that you and your friends could always eat free, was worth mentioning. From that day on, you and Eddie had been inseparable.

—

The Hideout is loud. You’re wrapped around your best friend’s arm as he leads you through the bar. It’s the only time you’ve seen this place busy, let alone filled with people that don’t qualify for a discount at Denny’s.

The crowd must be the fault of the band. They're full of life on the tiny stage in the back of the bar, somehow convincing patrons to take to the sticky wooden floor to dance.

“You wanna drink, sweets?” You hear him even over the loud music, like a siren call meant only for you.

“Yes, please!” You look up at Eddie, who’s already staring at you. His rich brown eyes sparkle in the dancing stage lights, and you find your tongue in knots at the sight of him.

He nods, sliding his jacket from your shoulders before seating you at a table. “I’ll be right back!” He promises before skipping off to the bar. You keep your eyes trained on him, hypnotized by the way he glided towards the bar, weaving between the mass of gyrating bodies.

You can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him started changing. You assume it had to have been high school. He started growing his hair out, dressing in leather and denim, and listening to a lot of heavy metal. Something about it was attractive to you, watching your best friend become the man he is now, at twenty three years old.

Even with an exterior most find scary, Eddie is still the kindest soul you know. That’s what really pulled you in. He’s always treated you with kindness and care, never once letting you leave his house angry, and knowing just what to say to calm you down. He always makes sure you’re home safe after a night drinking, sometimes even willing to forfeit his own fun to drive you to your place, or crash at his trailer.

Of course, these feelings have stayed stuffed deep, deep down. You can’t bring yourself to ruin what you have with him, risking your closest friendship to maybe be told what you want to hear.

“Hey! You still in there?” Eddie waves his decorated hand a few inches from your face, and you’re dragged back to earth. He places your drink on the table in front of you.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He rests his chin on his knuckles, full attention on you, and you feel your face warm.

“Just happy to be out with you is all.” Not a lie, but not exactly the truth. Safe.

“Alright.” He’s never been one to pry. “You wanna dance?” The song has changed to something slower, and you try not to read into his timing as you nod your head cautiously, taking Eddie’s hand as he leads you to the floor.

Eddie places his hands on either of your hips, and you can’t help but stiffen. “This alright?” He must have felt it too.

“Yes, yeah,” You stumble to reassure him, nervous you’ll scare him off. He’s always been such a gentleman, so careful with you.

You drape your arms around his neck loosely, casually. Safely. Still just two friends, swaying to some angst ridden tune you can’t understand the words to.

—

It’s later when Steve and Robin arrive, already drunk from spending the night at a concert in the city. You’re still not down for the count, and Eddie’s nursing his sixth drink of the night as the music has switched from guitar driven to computer beats coming from a turntable.

“Since when does The Hideout hire DJs?” Robin shouts over the bass driven music, eyes squinting in the bright lights.

“Ever since the place sold to some big wig in Indy, they’ve been doing this shit on weekends!” Eddie informs her as Steve starts talking about how “this is actually a great business tactic.” You decide now is a good time to slip back to the bar for a refill.

Unfortunately, you are one of about fifty people to have that idea, and you groan as you fight to find an open space along the counter. You mumble “excuse me” after “sorry” after “move, please!” until you’ve almost reached the front. As you’re about to order, you feel a hand squeeze your ass.

You whip your head around, and come face to face with a large, muscular man in a tight t-shirt and even tighter jeans.

“Hey, baby,” He winks, the disgusting smirk on his face sending a chill through your body. “You here all by yourself, gorgeous?” Your throat tightens. This is what it’s like, you know that. You shouldn’t be by yourself, that was your mistake. Your throat tightens, impossibly dry, before looking back up at this man. He is seemingly a foot and a half taller than you, likely able to break you in half using only his bicep, and he’s is standing way too close. You can even smell the whiskey on his tongue. “Uh, well,”

“Cmon, let’s go dance, huh?” He interrupts, snatching your wrist with an iron grip, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he leads you towards the dance floor, already formulating an escape route. You’ll say you need to use the bathroom, then you’ll find your friends and leave. Easy enough, right? Unfortunately as you reach the dance floor, the song slows again and you find yourself flush against this beast of a man, his big arms caging you into his chest. You feel the tears start to well in your eyes, blurring your already obscured vision. Your heart drops into your stomach when you realize you are completely, fully, and hopelessly trapped.

—

“Sooo,” Robin turns to Eddie, who’s been staring across into space, daydreaming about you for the last five minutes. “Where’s your girl?”

“What?” He’d heard her, but he wants to hear it again. And again and again.

“Your baby, dingus! You’re one true-“

“Would you shut up?” He interrupts her slurring of teasing, aching jabs, feeling his face heat up with every syllable. “She’s not my- y’know, she’s not mine.”

“Oh, please!” Steve snorts, causing Eddie to whip his head to look at him. “We all know she’s yours, and you’re hers, and all that romantic bullshit, okay? No use trying to squirm out of it. Be grateful you got that much. We all know she loves you.”

He rolls his eyes, but his heart is skipping with each word. He wants to believe them, desperately. He can’t bring himself to have those hopes, though, not about you. He’d only disappoint you, or scare you off when he got too close. It’s better, keeping you at a distance. Safer.

“Is that… No,” Robin looks beyond Eddie, and he turns to follow her gaze. He finds you easily, the only figure he’d recognize in such a loud, multicolored environment. You’re squished against a boulder of a man as you sway to the music, but he can’t see your face. Eddie feels his heart catch in his throat as he turns back to his friends.

“See? I told you she’s not mine.” He clears his throat when he hears his own voice crack. Not fucking now.

“Who is that guy?” Steve asks, craning his neck to get a better view.

“Probably just some club sleaze, she’s probably not even having fun.” Robin shrugs. Her comment clicks in Eddie’s brain before it clicks in her own, though.

“I gotta go.” He shoves himself from the table.

“Should I go with him?”

Robin shrugs. “That dude is gigantic. Maybe watch his back.”

—

“Hey, um,” The song has ended, and you need to get the fuck out of here. “I’ll be right back, I gotta use the ladies’ room,” You peel yourself away from him, but he grabs your arm before you can.

“Nuh uh, you can use the bathroom at my place. C’mon.” There will be no talking yourself out of this. Usually you can confuse a man into leaving you alone, but this guy’s different. You can sense the danger, the complete lack of empathy, like it’s a scent he’s giving off. You have to make a scene.

You twist your arm, writhing to get out of his grip, when you feel the cooling rings of a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice is low, so this man/monster can’t hear him. “I’m gonna get you out of here. Hang on.” He moves in front of you, between you and the giant causing him to drop your arm. There’s an angry red ring of his lasting grip around your wrist. “You gotta problem, buddy?” The guy puffs his chest out at Eddie, like some weird, animalistic instinct to seem bigger. Like he needs that advantage.

“Yeah, I do. Why were your hands on my girl?”

You try not to think about the words too much. Despite the situation though, you feel your heart skip. Steve joins him beside you, placing his hand on your other shoulder protectively.

“Your girl, huh? Well your girl’s a fuckin’ slut then, she’s been dancing with me for the last ten minutes.”

“What the fuck did you just call her, you prick?”

“You heard me bitch boy, she’s a slut! And I like my girls dirty.” Before Eddie can respond, the guy swings his arm into Eddie’s unsuspecting face as you watch, frozen and helpless. Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle the shriek, but you catch the attention of some nearby patrons.

Eddie doesn’t go down, though. The adrenaline keeps him on his feet. “Oh, we’re doin’ this now?” Eddie smirks as he wipes the blood from his split lip. “Cmon, I know you got more in ya than that. You’re massive!” Eddie taunts him before launching at the guy, managing to double him over with a punch to the gut. “You’ll have to do more than that if you want her, big guy. I’ll lay down my fuckin’ life in this bar for that woman.”

The crowd has now turned their attention to where Eddie’s got the brute in a headlock. He gets one more punch in before his opponent breaks out of his grasp, sending his elbow straight into Eddie’s nose. “Oh, ho, ho,” Eddie cackles maniacally as he lifts away from the counter, blood now dripping from his nostrils into his mouth, staining his skin and his shirt. “Look at you, tough guy.” He spits a mouthful of blood onto the bar floor. “Real big of you beatin’ on someone a quarter your size.”

Before anyone else can make a move, the bouncers are rushing up behind them, escorting both men out the front entrance while you follow behind with Steve and Robin. It takes six guys to move the giant, leaving Eddie to comply with the disgruntled manager. You watch as your adversary curses at Eddie before walking into the night, disappearing before anyone could think to call the cops.

“Oh my god, what the fuck?!” Robin is laughing nervously as she looks between you and Eddie, then to Steve with that annoying, know-it-all glint in her eyes.

“Eddie, he could have fuckin’ killed you!” Steve, ever the babysitter, scolds his friend with an elbow to his ribs, causing Eddie to wince in pain.

“Yeah, maybe, but if it meant keeping her safe-,” He cuts himself off as he meets your teary eyes. “Oh, no. Sweets, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, barely able to look at the bloody boy in front of you. He’s hurt because of you. You were supposed to keep him safe.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie.” You whisper, afraid your voice will betray you for speaking at full volume. “You shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have let you.” The tears are warm on your cheeks when they spill, and as quickly as they do, you have six arms wrapped around you.

—

“Get some rest, we’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You shut the cab door behind you before following Eddie into his trailer. You don’t want to be alone tonight, and Eddie has graciously offered a sleepover at his place.

“How’s your face?” You ask, already on your way to the freezer for an ice pack.

“I’m fine, honey, I promise.” His voice says otherwise, low and scratchy from a night of straining it. “How are you doing, though?”

It’s a loaded question. How are you supposed to feel, watching your best friend risk his life for you? You’re grateful, sure, but the guilt eats at you still. “I’m just so, so sorry Eddie,” You carefully lift your hand to caress his swollen cheek. “You really didn't have to do that.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let him hurt you? I couldn’t live with myself.” He shakes his head, wincing in pain. “I meant what I said. I’d risk my life to keep you safe.”

You shake your head, not accepting his answer. “Why?” It’s meek, barely a whisper as you blot the remaining blood from his lip.

“What do you mean why?” His words are muffled by the tissue.

You huff, getting upset despite yourself. “You’re telling me you’d put yourself in danger if it meant keeping me out of it? What’s the point? Why do that to yourself because I’m too stupid to make the right decisions? What do you gain from that?”

He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “Do I have to gain something from it? I do it because I love you, y/n. Simple as that.” You gape at him, and he rolls his eyes, the beginning of a smirk twitching on his face. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“It would be helpful, yes.” You’re just about begging now, the nervous sweat causing your shirt to stick to you.

“Sweets, I accepted that I would die for you a long fuckin’ time ago. If it meant keeping you happy, I would tie myself to the train tracks. Or, in this case, let some fucker twice my size beat the living shit out of me.”

You can’t accept it, logically. Your brain won’t let you believe any of his claims. “But I don’t-“

“No.” His voice is stern, almost scolding. “No more of that ‘I don’t deserve you’ shit. Okay? Absolutely not. Because you do. You saved my life all those years ago, and I promised myself I’d make sure to protect yours, too. You are my best friend, and the absolute love of my life, so I’m gonna give you everything I’ve got.” He laces his fingers with yours, and you watch as his rings catch the light.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about me, I’ll never ask you for that, it wouldn’t be fair. But I can’t stand by when you’re in trouble, it’s not what I do.”

Your heart is fighting to free itself from your ribcage. It wants to jump from your skin, straight into Eddie’s open palms. Though the ever present coward in you wishes to curl up inside yourself and hide from him, everything else in your body is being pulled towards him, compelled as if by nature.

Before you even notice you’re crying again, Eddie wraps himself around your shaking frame, rubbing soothing patterns on your back as you sob, open mouthed and ugly, into his t-shirt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He coos, and you focus on his breathing, matching the pace to calm the stutter of your cries.

You claw at his jacket, inhaling his scent of cigarettes and pine soap. You need him closer. He tightens his grip on you, and you look up to face him. His own cheeks are wet with tears, his eyes screwed shut trying to stifle the bite of the wracking sobs you know the strength of well. This is the only chance you’re getting, so you move with calculation. Despite the anxious pounding of your heart, and everything in your head telling you that he’s not yours and never could be, you crane your neck to reach Eddie’s split and swollen lips, squeezing your eyes shut as you place your mouth on his, ever so gently.

Before Eddie can react, you’re gone, face inches away from him as his eyes flutter open. “Whoa. Uh, w-what… what are you doing?” He sputters, face now bright red, and you feel your own cheeks blush.

“I’m- I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed… ” You cover your mouth with your hand to hide the shame, feeling the fire in your stomach. You have just ruined years of friendship, and for one stupid kiss! But Eddie’s beaming, and he’s still gripping you close to him. “I've just wanted to do that for so long.” You admit shyly, shifting against his grip, ready to retreat, but he holds you tighter.

“Can you do it again?” His voice is more confident now. You’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly, but when you look at him, it’s undeniable.

You mirror his smile, nodding before leaning into him again. He makes the connection, taking the lead as your body contorts around his, lips locking together as he holds you flush against him. His lips are so soft, and he’s so gentle with you, even though you can tell he’s eager, like maybe he’s also wanted to do this for a while. The thought causes you to smile against his lips, and you feel his own lips stretch against yours as your hands move from his shoulders to his hair.

One of his hands moves from your waist to caress your face, holding your jaw like a precious pearl he’s discovered after years at sea. Your tears fall freely now, ones of overwhelming love for Eddie, ones you never could have hoped to shed, content letting them simmer in the pit of your throat if it meant keeping your best friend. You’re breathless when he lets you go, fighting the urge to chase after his lips. After almost a decade of wondering what Eddie would taste like, what kissing him would feel like, now you get to know. “I have been in love with you since that day on the playground,” He confesses, tightening his arms around your waist to keep you close. “But I’m such a chicken shit, I didn’t wanna ruin anything. You were so sweet to me, I couldn’t risk losing that, losing you.” The words seem to spill from him now, like he’s been craving to tell you. You suppose he has.

You take in the sight of your best friend, battered and bruised for the sake of your honor, like a knight thrown into battle without armor. He’s beautiful, even in black and blue. You bring your hand to his cheek, rubbing small circles on his skin as he leans into your touch. You could stay here forever, you think. “I love you too, Eds. I have for as long as I can remember.” He smiles at you, lip splitting again but he doesn’t even flinch. You return the grin, feeling your cheeks ache from how wide you’ve stretched your mouth. “Thank you for keeping me safe.” You kiss him again, letting yourself taste the blood he’d spilled for you, a silent promise that you’ll make sure he never has to again.

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