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Finish the spongebob quote
âSounds like a lot ofâŚâ
đŁď¸ HOOPLA
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How was your Halloween?
wow, Iâm late on this! It was good. I didnât get to go out or anything because work. But I stayed in, ordered pizza, got a little tipsy, played Baldurâs Gate and watched a couple of horror movies with someone really cool.
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tried something- not sure I love it.
Iâll post a plain version too
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The warm lamp-lights in the windows of neighboring trailers clicked off as other families settled into bed for the night. He sucked hard at the end of his cigarette, burning it to the filter before flicking the butt into the patchy grass below. He held it for a moment before releasing it in a cloud of nicotine, to drift through the atmosphere and disappear into the backdrop of stars and nothing that hung overhead.
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reblog if you want anonymous opinions of you
pls pls
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Thinking about how I grew up in a single-wide trailer with a dad who listened to metal, played d&d and smoked a ton of weed. I remember riding in the front seat of his mustang, playing with my Barbieâs while he blasted Black Sabbath at top volume.
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Working on part 4
Iâm On Fire

Eddie x Fem Reader (request)
Summary: It was a harmless crush what you and Eddie shared yet so damning you were forced to keep him at a distance. It would be hell for you if your father found out but you just couldnât stay awayâŚ
(Contains descriptions of abuse, alcoholism and violent behavior.)
Part 2
âââ Back pressed to the door, you counted the footsteps just outside. Three from your bedroom, ten towards the living room, twenty to the kitchen. The footfalls grew quieter with each number. Like counting claps of thunder after a lightening strike, you were measuring the distance of a passing storm. It seemed you were finally in the clear. The breath hitched in your throat released in a quiver as the tension in your posture softened.
You blinked past the tears as you approached your vanity. You assessed the damage under the warm lamplight. Red indentations from your fatherâs grasp colored the soft skin of your upper arm. You could still feel the pressure of his fingertips pressing into the muscle as he held you in place. Not that it was necessary. You knew better than to walk away when he talked to you. Still, he grabbed you harshly during your berating to remind you of your place. To remind you that you were ungrateful and an overall disappointment as a daughter. You lifted your arm to further examine the sensitive skin. It was going to bruise. The remaining blemishes from the last altercation with your father still hadnât healed. Fading from violet and gray to a sickly shade of yellow, they were gradually getting better but more would take their place. At least your father had the decency to leave marks in places easy to conceal. Not that it was for your benefit. Instead it was meant to save his own ass. Ever since a parent teacher conference was called to discuss a bruise on your cheek you refused to explain, the injuries became more elusive though just as frequent.
Youâd gotten good at hiding the hell that was your home life. Adept at burying the hurt so that you could carry out daily tasks like going to school without question. The next morning, you slid your hair over the collar of your flannel over shirt and primped in the mirror one last time before heading for the door.
âHey.â A unwelcomed voice grated. Your hand froze on the door knob. You were seconds away from a clean escape.
âYea, Dad?â He was leaning against the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal in hand, watching you past the door frame as if he were waiting for you. His hair was disheveled. Eyes still bloodshot from a previous night of drinking. It was rare that he was sober anymore. You werenât a psychiatrist but you would assume it had something to do with the fact he hated himself just as much as the lack-luster life he had earned for the two of you.
âIâm working late tonight. Now, I want you home right after school.â He pointed a finger as he spoke. Not even 8AM and he was already coming across as confrontational. âYou come straight home and clean some of this shit up. Hear me?â You wouldâve rolled your eyes if you didnât think heâd smack the hell out of you for it. Since your mother left, your father had appointed you to take over her thankless chore list, never lifting a finger of his own.
âI will, promise.â Other families typically say âI love youâ before leaving, but you didnât see the point anymore. It was an empty phrase that hadnât held a meaning since you were a child.
âââ
The misty spring air drove away the remaining tiredness resting behind your eyes. It was a cool caress against your cheeks as you pedaled your bike down the still waking streets of Hawkins to the high school. You liked school okay enough. Your grades were consistently passing and for seven hours a day, you were out of your fatherâs reach. Above all else, there was Eddie. He was a loud mouthed senior with an intimidating aura and reputation to match. A lot of your classmates avoided him. You did too. That is until you were partnered together for an assignment in Mrs. Clickâs class. Turns out the second degree senior was actually pretty smart. Just lazy, dubbing himself as more of an âidea-man.â He was unmotivated. You could understand that. Your motivation was more of a looming threat scented with bourbon and haggard by poor life choices and coping mechanisms.
Eddie didnât know about your dad. At first he thought your concern about the assignment was silly. Your grades were good enough. No sense in being an overachiever he thought. It wasnât until he caught you after class one day after everyone else had left. You were crying. Your arms circled your face as you sobbed into the textbook lying on your desk. He didnât know you were that stressed about it. He didnât know that a failing grade would likely result in injury in your case. It may have been an invasion of privacy but he pulled up a chair beside you. You startled at the sound of the metal legs scooting across the concrete floor.
âI-Iâm sorryâŚI didnât mean to scare you.â
âWhat do you want, Eddie?â You wiped the tears away with the back of your sweater sleeve. Your previous interactions were short and often quarrelsome, always pertaining to the assignment.
âFirst off, I want you to take a breath.â You did so in vain. Not because he told you to but because you hated anyone to see you cry. âMay I?â Eddieâs ring clad hand slid the textbook off your desk and into his lap. He shuffled through the notes stuffed between the pages that you had so meticulous taken. Ink bled on portions of the paper soggy from tears. Heâd never seen someone so hung up over a grade before. He felt guilty that he didnât share even half of your concern. âTake the night off. I can finish this.â Your eyes snapped to him, bloodshot and skeptical.
âYou are gonna finish it?â Your tone was unintentionally mocking. He had barely put in an effort since your were unfairly partnered at random.
âYea?â Eddie answered cooly. âIâll throw the presentation together so you can take a break. I can just reference your notes. Seems like youâve covered every possible base.â Nonchalantly, he flipped the lined, loose-leaf paper over, further noting the nuances of your handwriting. Bubbly cursive with little hearts that accented the iâs. Cute. The idea of Eddie taking over the assignment was worrisome to say the least, but you could use a break. Between the stress of school and your fatherâs constant demands, you were overwhelmed.
âBut what about-â
âY/NâŚIâve got this, okay? Iâm sorry I havenât been doing my part. Let me make it up to you. If you donât think Iâm capable of finishing it on my own, I could just come to your place. Weâll work on it togeth-â
âNo!â You were quick to shutdown the idea. No one was allowed to come to your house. Your own personal rule. Logically thinking, your father wouldnât hit you in front of another person, but he had surprised you before. Inebriation always ran the risk of trumping logic. Eddie winced at how quick you were to decline his self imposed invention. It was strictly out of kindness but maybe a bit too forward? âItâs a school nightâŚIâm not allowed to have friends over on school nights.â The excuse was weaved out of thin air. You had years of practice in improvising white lies to hide your families broken dynamics.
âOkayâŚmaybe I can get your number then? Yâknow to talk about the assignment?â Eddie closed the book in his lap, resting his forearms on the hard cover. A trailing tattoo of bats peak-a-booed under his pushed up sleeves. You weighed the pros and cons for a moment. Your father would kill you if he answered the phone to hear a manâs voice asking for you. Weâre you willing to risk it?
ââŚAlright. But no calling after 6:30 and if my dad answers, hang up immediately.â You laid out your conditions and watched Eddie smile in confusion.
âUhh, yea⌠I guess I can do that.â The smile stretch to brilliancy. He stood triumphantly, nudging your shoulder just before leaving. âDry it up, L/N.â You followed his stride out the door with your eyes, savoring the lingering scent of his cologne. No way you were crushing on the outcasted king of Hawkins High.
âââ
You totally were. With Eddieâs help, the assignment was given on time. Earning you both a respectable B+ Even after your two week sentence of partnership ended, he still called you (within the boundaries you set.) Still talked to you in the halls and during lunch. You suffered through every class and mind numbing lecture with one thing on your mind. Eddie. Baring witness to his hyperactive, exaggerated mannerisms were the best part of your day. Just hearing his distinctive voice greet you with a âhey sweetheartâover the crackle of the landline. It was enough to give you butterflies. Still, as much as it hurt you to do so, you kept him at arms length. You didnât want him caught in your mess and you certainly didnât want to provide anymore fuel for your fatherâs misplaced outrage. That meant turning Eddie down anytime heâd ask for a date. Rushing off the phone the second your fatherâs truck roared into the driveway, cutting Eddie off in the midst of flirtatious conversations. It didnât go unnoticed. He thought you to be playing hard to get. You gave every indication you were into him. You didnât shy away when heâd brush your hair behind your ear. When heâd grab your hand under the cafeteria table, youâd lace your fingers with his. Eddie always made little jokes over the phone about how he was gonna climb through your window just to see you. Youâd never take the bait, but youâd always bite your lip as your twirled the cord between your fingers. Eddie swears he could hear it in your laugh. It was a spark that threatened to burn him from the inside out. Heâd lay in bed at night thinking of you, hoping you were doing the same.
But your life outside of school was a mystery. You never talked about what happened after you biked away from the parking lot. You never saw friends on the weekend. It was puzzling. You were such a sweet girl, but Eddie felt like he still didnât truly know you. Only parts of you. You were shrouded in secrecy. He used to ask questions. Your answers were short and always followed by a swift change in subject. The only information he could gather was that your mom was no longer in the picture and your father kept high expectations of you. Nothing out of the norm. But you were peculiar in the way youâd shift in place and hide your eyes anytime Eddie attempted to talk about him.
âââ
The cool, overcast day gave way to torrential rain, peppering the cracked pavement and sidewalks as the last bell of the day rang out. Teens scramble across the parking lot, text books and bags covering their heads in lieu of umbrellas. You watched as they boarded buses and settled into nice cars, gifted by their parents. You on the other hand were preparing for the freezing bike ride back home. Already feeling defeated, you kicked up the bikeâs stand just as the stench of exhaust and rumble of thrash metal crept across the parking lot.
âPlease donât tell me youâre riding home in this?â Cigarette smoke wafted from the open window of Eddieâs van. He held in a laugh. You were pitifully hilarious. The hood of your beloved sweatshirt that lived in your locker was pulled tightly to your head and tied below your chin. You were rendered a moon faced blob of wet and darkened fabric.
âBeats walking.â You mounted your bike while shrugging the weight of your backpack up your shoulders.
âNonono, come on. Iâll give you a ride.â What kind of man would he be if he just let you go off on your own in the middle of a downpour? âThe heat works now.â Eddie patted the dash in praise. Heâd been working on that for weeks. âI know youâre cold.â You were. Freezing in fact. âJust let me take you home.â He pleaded. He really didnât want to resort to begging but was prepared to. You chewed your bottom lip in consideration. What was it about him that made you so careless with your circumstance? Was it his eyes? The way his frizzy curls framed his perfect jawline? Maybe it was his gentlemanly gestures juxtaposed to his âfuck youâ attitude. Christ. It was all of it. Your dad did say he was working lateâŚWhat could it hurt?
âWhat about my bike?â You shouted over the loud spatter of raindrops.
âAllow me.â The driverâs side door of the van opened with a groan. His black boots tread through the puddle you were standing in so that he could take your bike. With minimal effort he tossed it into the back of his van. Wiping his palms on the front of his jeans, he turned to you proudly. âHop in, sweetheart.â
âââ
Eddie shook his curls like a wet dog, cursing the cold rain between little shivers.
âAnd you wanted to bike home in this.â He tsked, side eyeing you playfully.
âI didnât want to! I had to!â You laughed as you ringed water from your hair.
âNo, see. Thatâs a lie. And you know itâs a lie. I offer to drive you home all the time.â That was true. Youâd never take him up on the offer though. It was too risky.
âWouldnât it be a pain in the ass to drive out of your way all the time just to take me home?â Your rubber toed shoes squeaked together in the floorboard as you adjusted yourself closer to the heat vents to thaw your fridges fingers.
âYou act like we live hours apart. Curly isnât far from the trailer park.â He reminded you. You knew that but you were running out of excuses.
âI justâŚdonât think my dad would like it.â There it was again. The brief mention of him had you grabbing at your arms, making yourself as small as possible on instinct. Eddie watched you slouch in the passenger seat. Your smiling eyes now trained to the rain droplets racing down your window. It was happening again.
ââŚ.I donât think I like your dad.â Eddie casually determined. Thatâs makes to of us you thought but didnât dare to say.
âYouâve never even met him.â You hoped the conversation would be short but something told you it was only the start.
âI donât have to. He sounds like a dick. Like, he just wants to keep you in your room, away from everybody else. Thatâs not fair to you.â The atmosphere grew tense as the van splashed through puddles down the two lane. You got quiet. Eddie had seen this before. Itâs like youâd shutdown anytime he tried to talk about him. A clear sign he should stop but he knew there was something you werenât telling him. He wanted to press on but he finally had you all to himself outside the crowded halls of your school. He wasnât about to let your time together go to waste. âItâs damn sure not fair to me.â He pouted in an attempt to get you talking again.
âAnd why is that?â You turned to him with the corner of your mouth ticked up into a smirk.
âBecause I canât take you out! We canât go for milkshakes or any of that cutesy shit!â Eddie huffed, earning the smallest giggle from you. âNo steamy make out session at skull rock either.â He teased, wagging his brows as he reach across the center console to squeeze your knee. He was courteous but never subtle. Playfully, you slapped at his arm while a blush warmed your still frozen cheeks. You wanted those things. You wanted the whirlwind romance youâd read about in books. You wanted Eddie. But instead you were lead actress in your own personal Lifetime drama or after school special about the dangers of alcoholism. We donât always get what we want. You flipped his palm over and locked your fingers in his. It canât hurt to pretend though.
You were so entranced by the way Eddieâs cigarette danced between his plush lips that you didnât even realize you were almost home. He was rambling on about the bluesy riff in Sabbathâs âFairies Wear Bootsâ which played over the tape deck. With the crash of a cymbal your heart dropped to your stomach. In the driveway sat a rust eaten and weathered Chevy pickup.
âFuck FUCK!â You immediately began scrambling to unfasten your seatbelt and grab your bag.
âWHAT?â Eddie shouted in confusion.
âMy dad is home. He said he was working late tonight!â You were visibly panicked. Eddie rushed to mute the music but it was too late. The rumbling bass line had already sold you out on your arrival. Eddie peered out the windshield past the wiper blades to see a gruff man swing past the screen door of the modest home. He watched as he slumped over the dinghy, white and algae stained porch railings. A bottle hung loosely between his fingers. Eddie watched you through the rear view. You were struggling to pull your bike out of the back.
âLet me help-â
âNO. Stay in the van.â You snapped. Shaky hands gripped the metal frame, finally pulling it free. Eddieâs eyes flicked back to your father who was suddenly staring daggers at him. An uneasy feeling settled in his chest watching you push your bike up the driveway, not bothering to spare him a goodbye. Against his better judgment, he threw the van in reverse and left. He took one last look at you through his side mirror. Your head dipped low as you followed the man into the house.
âââ
You prepped dinner on the stove. The skilletâs simmer was the only thing staving off the earth shattering silence. The tension that could be cut with a knife. Your father was sat at the table bouncing his leg as he watched you. You could feel his eyes even with your back turned. Was he intentionally drawing this out? Reveling in your stiff shoulders and dry gulps as you plated his food? This wasnât the kind of thing he was going to let slide. You knew that and found no sense in delaying the inevitable. If he wasnât going to speak up, you would.
âI thought you were working late.â You sat a plate in front of your father before taking your place at the table. You hoped the gesture of a hot meal would lessen your punishment. âWhat happened?â It was likely another altercation with a coworker. He had verbally been reprimanded about that kind of thing in the past. While his violent tendencies lived beyond the closed doors of your home, he carried the same anger with him everywhere he went. Quietly seething at the fact he had lost control of his life. Now a divorcee with a dead end job, living paycheck to paycheck. He turned his focus to you. You, he could control.
âWho was he?â Your question went completely ignored. He stabbed at his pork chop, watching your face intensely. Searching for any indication of a lie.
âJust a friend. It was raining so he offered me a ride.â You kept your eyes on your food. Anxiety starved your appetite so instead you pushed your peas around the dish.
âAnd what did you offer him?â Your father smiled at you in a mocking manner.
âI donâtâŚI donât get what you mean?â
âDonât act stupid, Y/N. Men have all got one thing on their minds. I know that boy didnât waste his gas bringing you homeâŚfor nothing in return.â He wanted to get under your skin. He wanted you to bite back. He wanted an excuse to pin his shitty day on you.
âDo you seriously think Iâd sacrifice my self respect for a ride home?â You were visibly angered by the notion. You werenât sure what you found more offensive. The fact he thought youâd trade sex for a simple favor or that Eddie would expect that of you? He took a harmless situation and twisted it into something perverse.
âWatch your fuckinâ tone!â He stabbed the air in your direction with his fork. âIâd like to think I raised you better than that but I really shouldnât be surprised. Figures youâd turn out to be a whore like your mother.â You could feel your hands shake under the table. He knew that would get you.
âDonât put that shit on me!â You snapped. âIf you wouldâve treated mom like a person instead of your servant sheâd still be here!â You missed your mom. You wished she wouldâve taken you with her. Instead she found someone to take your fatherâs place and skipped town. You didnât blame her, but it still hurt. It was probably just easier for her to make an escape and start over without a teenaged daughter weighing her down. âIm not hungry.â You pushed your plate back on the table and made the attempt to head back to you room. The fact he was sitting down made you think, maybe you could make it to the door before he caught up with you. You moved quickly but were stunned in place by the shatter of a glass on the floor.
âDonât fuckinâ WALK AWAY FROM ME.â Your father barked. In the heat of fight or flight situations, you froze. He followed you into the hallway, face burning hot with misdirected rage. You screwed your eyes shut the second his hand tangled into your hair. âI CAUGHT YOU WHISPERING ON THE PHONE WITH THAT BOY THE OTHER DAY!â His shouting shook you to the core. Your heart raced remembering how your father made it home fifteen minutes early last week and managed to make it into the house without you noticing. Your mind fought to recall your conversation with Eddie and hoped it wasnât damning.
âIâm sorry, Dad!â
âNow, I want you to tell meâŚâ He wiped the sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand. âWHO IS HE?â He tugged your hair at the roots causing you to wince in pain.
âHEâS JUST A FRIEND! Please let me go, PLEASE!â You hated how weak you sounded.
âI WANT HIS FUCKINâ NAME!â With one sharp motion, the side of your face slammed into the wood paneling of the wall. You dropped to the floor instantaneously. Any other time youâd just accept your fate. Take the beating and allow the moment to pass but something in you screamed run. Unable to make it to your feet, you staggered a crawl towards the living room. Your father followed your every movement, squatting down to grab your hair once more.
âANSWER ME GODDAMN IT!â Your trembling hands stretched to reach the cord of a nearby table lamp. The last digit of your middle finger managed to moved the wire enough that the light fell to the carpeted floor. Before you even had a chance to think of the repercussions, you grabbed the lamp and swung it at your father making direct contact. He stumbled backwards holding his nose. Trickles of blood began lining the spaces between his fingers. Now was your chance. You looked to the front door. A beacon of hope merely feet away. You pushed past the ache in your head and the fear in your stomach, finally making it to your feet.
âYOU FUCKINâ BITCH!â Your father screamed through a cupped hand, attempting to grab you before you were out of reach. His fingers grazed the cloth of your T-shirt before you slipped away from his grasp. He tried to chase after you, but his vision was obstructed by the blow to his face. You ran out the door and off the porch, frantically mounting your bike. Your father followed, stopping at the porch steps. The rain beat hard as he screamed.
âGET BACK IN THE GODDAMN HOUSE.â But you were already gone, petaling rapidly down your street. Not daring to look back. The reflections of streetlights on the wet asphalt illuminated the road to freedom. You werenât sure of where you were going but then you remembered. Curly isnât far from the trailer park.
âââ
Smoke circled overhead in Eddieâs room. An ash tray rested on his naked chest as he flipped through the pages of some macabre comic. A record spun on the turntable. The needle bringing the voice of Robert Plant to life. His zen was interrupted by a pounding at the trailer door. What he fuck? He pulled himself off the mattress and lifted the arm of the record player. He observed the silence beyond the rain, hearing the frantic knocks again. Who in the hell? He grabbed his leather jacket off the desk chair and made his way to the door, the sound pestering on.
âWhat?â He answered sharply but was immediately caught off guard. You stood on his door step, shivering and drenched to the bone. âY/N, oh my God! Are you okay?â He didnât hesitate to wrap his arms around you and guide you inside.
âI didnât know where else to go.â Your voice was strained. Broken. Your threw yourself into his chest, collapsing in the comfort and warmth of his skin, not considering how crazy you looked in that moment. You just needed to feel safe. Eddie rubbed your back as you cried. Soft shooshes cooed from his lips. Something was very wrong.
âWhat happened, Sweetheart?â He pulled away to face you. Eddie swept the wet strands of hair behind your ear, revealing your swollen face. A knot raised just above your temple, red and swollen skin trailing below and tracing down to your cheekbone. âJesus ChristâŚY/N.â You had never seen Eddieâs face so concerned. âDid- Did someone do this to you?â You couldnât speak. You were fighting to regain your composure but you managed to nod a reply. Sadness swelled in Eddieâs chest. How could anyone find it in themself to hurt you like this? âWho did this!?â He gently cupped your face in his hands, tilting and lifting in search of any other marks. Your fatherâs face flashed in his memory. The look in his eyes as he dangled the bottle in his hands. The pieces began to fall together. Why youâd tense up anytime he was mentioned. Why you spoke in whispers on the phone. How did he miss all the signs? âHe did this to you.â It wasnât a question. It was an understanding. He locked his deep brown eyes on you. You nodded in his hands. Tears brimmed and threatened to spill over when he saw the way your lip trembled.
âI canât go back there, Eddie.â Your chest heaved as you choked back another sob. He pressed your face into his chest, his hand cradling the side of your head. His skin burned hot while yours was ice. You melted together in the embrace.
âYou donât have to. Weâll figure something out.â
âââ
âThese looked like theyâd fit. I tossed them in the dryer so theyâd be extra warm.â Eddie handed off a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt smelling of fresh dryer sheets. You smiled up at him through your lashes while you sat on the edge of the bathtub. The towel Eddie drape over you still rested on your shoulders. He was an excellent caretaker. You moved your makeshift ice pack/bag of frozen peas off your temple so you could shake out the clothes.
âI really appreciate thisâŚall of it.â There was no way to properly thank him or express how sincere you truly were.
âDonât do that.â He smiled.
âDo what?â
âDonât thank me for being nice to you, itâs weird!â You chuckled a little at that. It was weird having someone care about you like this. You lifted your soggy tshirt over your head, separating it for the tank top that clung to your body. For the first time, Eddie could see what your father had done to you. Bruises on your shoulder and across your arms. All varying in size and color. Some fresh, some old. He dropped his breath.
âNo sense in hiding them anymore I guess.â You shrugged off the initial embarrassment. You shouldnât be the one who felt ashamed. Yet you did.
âDoes it happen a lot?â Eddie sat down on the lid of the toilet seat and twisted his body towards you.
âCouple times a week.â You shrugged. âItâs getting worse. Since mom leftâŚitâs like he looks for reasons to hurt me. I-I donât know if he blames me for what happened or if he just takes it out on me because Iâm the only one thereâŚâ Youâd never talked to anyone about what youâve been through. What you continue to go through. But with Eddie, you felt like you could be transparent. He absorbed every word, not daring to speak until you got it all off your chest. Your honesty cut him like a knife. It took him back to his days of being a confused child. Wondering why his dad would strike him. What he couldâve done to deserve it. Eddie wanted your father to pay for what he did to you but chose to keep his anger to himself. You didnât need more talks of violence, even if it would be justified. You needed comfort and understanding. âHe treated my mom like shit. She met this guy who made her feel like she was worth something, yknow? She packed up in the middle of the night. Left. No clue where.â You shook your head. âBut after thatâŚDad wasnât the same. He started drinking all the time. Picking fights with me for no reasonâŚand it just kept getting worse.â Your eyes started to wet. âNow Iâm here.â
âAll the bullshit aside, Iâm glad youâre here.â Eddie reached over to grab your hand. He let his thumb run circles along the back. His heart was heavy for you. He knew what you were going through and it was something who wouldnât wish upon anyone.
âââ
You and Eddie sat up on the couch for a while watching reruns of some dated sitcom. Something about the sounds of canned-laughter with Eddieâs arm draped around you soothed your jangled nerves. Your eyes were grew heavy as you rested in the dim light of Eddieâs living room. You were utterly exhausted by everything that had transpired that day. Your head would droop and pop back up with fluttered blinks. The cycle repeated at least three times before Eddie spoke up.
âJust close your eyes, sweetheart. I know youâre tired.â His voice was soft and hushed.
âI donât wanna leave you up though.â You rubbed your knuckle into your tired eyes to try and drive the sleepiness away.
âDonât worry about me.â He laughed. âIâm practically nocturnal. Now, câmon. Lay down.â Eddie swung his legs up on the couch and pulled you into him so that your back could rest against his stomach and head to his chest. He shuffled between so many emotions as you finally drifted off to sleep against him. Happy he could finally hold you. Saddened by your circumstances and what brought you to him. And ultimately guilty for enjoying every second of it.
The morning light cut through the blinds in blue ribbons across the walls of the quant, mobile home. Wayne had just finished up his shift at the plant. Tired and overworked, more than anything he wanted to stretch out on the couch and close his eyes. Eddie had thrown his uncle for a loop a time or two in the past but that didnât prepare him for when he opened the front door to see his nephew all snuggled up with some girl.
âEddie!â He boomed, sending a shockwave through the boyâs body. He sprang up to a sitting position, nearly toppling you over and into the floor.
âHey-Hey, Wayne! Can we, uh-can we talk for a second?â Wayne was not amused in the slightest by his nephewâs sheepish behavior.
âOh, weâre gonna have a talk alright.â He crossed his arms over his chest, not bothering to look at you. His attention was focused solely on Eddie.
âI guess I should-âŚ.I have to go to the bathroom.â You made yourself scarce and pitter pattered to bathroom. You knew you shouldnât but you left the door cracked so you could eaves drop on their conversation.
âOkay, WayneâŚI know what it looks like.â
âIt looks like your sneaking girls home!â
âI know, I know but itâs not like that!â Eddie huffed hoping the other man would understand. He dropped his voice so maybe you wouldnât hear him. âShe needs help, Wayne. Her dad abuses her. She showed up here crying last night because she didnât know where else to go. What was I supposed to do, send her right back to him? He grabbed her by the hair and rammed her head into the wall, for Christâs sake!â Eddie spoke in whispers so you couldnât hear. âI just wanted her safe. Honest.â His eyes were pleading. Wayne ran a hand over his scratchy beard recalling how he felt when he first learned of Eddie being abused. He thought back to that scared little boy crying in the cab of his truck because his mommy and daddy were two pieces of shit who couldnât figure out how to love their own flesh and blood. It was a sensitive subject for Wayne. He turned towards the bathroom feeling your eyes peak through the cracks of the door. You tried to shut it in a hurry but weâre already caught.
âHey! Câmere a second.â It was a request but his stern voice made it feel an awful lot like a demand. You walked slowly back to the center of the living room where the two men stood, watching you. Wayne stepped in front of you, examining the fresh bruise along the side of your face. His heart screamed âIâm sorry this happened to youâ but his face remained neutral. âThatâs a shiner alright.â He shook his head in disgust. You nervously looked the other way. You werenât used to people remarking on your fatherâs doings. It was your own secret shame and not one youâd willingly share. âStill hurt?â
âY-Yea. A little.â You wanted to sound brave and unphased but you sounded more like a child than anything.
âThereâs Tylenol in the medicine cabinet.â Wayne huffed and began pacing the floor. âIâm sure youâve noticed weâre a little limited on space here.â He gestured to his work clothes that hung on a rack in the corner of the room. You dropped your head sensing that youâd soon be sent away. Eddie waited with bated breath, praying his uncle wouldnât make you go back. âBut youâre welcome to stay here until we get this mess sorted out.â
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson fic#Eddie Munson fluff#Eddie Munson angst#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson x fem reader#Eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader
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Hi how are you? Wanted to check on you and see how youâve been. I hope that youâre doing okay đđđ
hey, love! Thank you so much for checking up on me. That is so sweet. Iâve been doing okay. Working through a lot of stuff but I think Iâm ready to take my interests off the back burner. I started writing something really fluffy that I hope to put out soon.âşď¸
and again, thank youâĽď¸
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I'm sorry everything thing is falling down at one time. If you need anything I'm here!!
Itâs okay. The important thing is Iâm finally working through it so I can eventually heal. Thank you so much for messagingâĽď¸
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Sorry for the lack of content but guess who has been working through years worth of trauma and repressed memories/emotionsđ
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look at him heâs at his most đ¤Šâď¸
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Iâm On Fire | Part 3

Eddie x Fem Reader (Part 1, Part 2 Working on Part 4)
Summary: Your first date with Eddie didnât exactly go the way he envisioned. As apprehensive as Eddie was to drive you back to the house you had just escaped, he could never say no to you. (Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of abuse and anxiety attacks.)
âââ
Condensation beaded on the windows of the cozy diner. Muggy heat from the grills sizzled and filled the air with the all encompassing scent of hot grease and something delicious. Truckers slumped over the counter. Their tired eyes looming over black coffee and headlines of the local paper. The toes of your sneakers scraped and rolled against the linoleum as your legs dangled from the red leather of the booth.
Eddie watched you contently, softly smiling to yourself as you drew familiar shapes on the window with your finger. Flowers, stars. The gleam of early afternoon sun saturated your eyes into a beautiful hue. He could stare at you like this for hours. Among the sad excuses of drawings, dripping down the window was a pair of stick figures. You etched little hearts above their heads.
âTheyâre lovers.â You stated matter of factly. Eddie stared at them for a moment before pressing his pinky to the glass, blessing both figures with matching sets of circle-boobs.
âI support it.â He nodded, satisfied with his contribution.
âSuch a child.â You chided happily as you wiped the scene away with your sleeve. Eddie gasped.
âY/N! I canât believe youâd be so narrow minded!â
âHa Ha. Very funny.â The playful back and forth was exactly what you needed to bring yourself out of your own troubled head which is exactly what Eddie wanted. And if that meant being a nuisance to those around you, so be it. Carefully, he tore the paper from one end of his straw, sliding it back just far enough to rest the end between his lips. You watched him skeptically as he wagged his brows at you. One puff of breath and the paper wrapper launched from the end of his straw and directly into the crunchy perm of a woman from an adjacent table. You gasped very audibly, mouth open and eyes wide.
âLook away. Look away.â Eddie demanded in the least demanding way possible. Lightening speed, he twisted his body to the window, acting oblivious and totally innocent. He rested his chin in his hand. A clever ploy so that his fingers could conceal his growing smirk. You clasped your own hand over your mouth. Suppressed giggles shook your shoulders. They grew worse with every shush Eddie uttered. The longer the woman went without noticing, the funnier it was. Unable to contain yourself, you threw your arms up on the table and rested your head, face down between them. Barricading yourself from the scene.
âWay to be discreet.â Eddie teased, leaning over the table to pull the hood of your jacket tightly over your head.
âHey!â You sprang up and pulled the hood back, leaving your hair tussled and in disarray. Eddieâs eyes were soft on you still. âWayne said to keep me out of trouble. Remember?â
âI canât imagine what you might be talking about.â He feigned innocence. Eddie glanced from the corner of his eye, noticing the woman had finally found the paper lodged in her hair. âOkay, for real this time. Donât look.â He whispered, somehow masterfully controlling his facial expression and nonchalantly taking a sip of his milkshake. You on the other hand were way less cool. You sucked your lips into a tight smile, head dipped low you gingerly tore the wrapper off your straw and focused way too hard on the table. âYou are so lame.â Eddie laughed.
The playful teasing and flirtatious smiles werenât new but somehow, outside the concrete walls of school, they felt more intimate. It proved the way you felt about Eddie was real and not just some crush based on the circumstantial proximity the high school allotted. The way you felt about him carried over into the real world and withstood the weight of your darkest secret. Youâd never wanted anyone the way you wanted him. Meanwhile, Eddie fought the urge to hold your hand across the table and you wondered why he wasnât.
âWhatâs next on the agenda?â Eddie popped a fry into his mouth. His lips made a comical smack as he sucked the salt off his thumb. âItâs your day, sweetheart. What dâya wanna do?â
âââ
âYâknow when I asked what you wanted to doâŚI meant likeâŚmore date stuff.â With his hands clasped around the steering wheel, Eddie shook his head in disbelief. Your stomach twisted with every familiar bump in the pavement. Your heart felt like it was thrashing against the cage that was your chest. Eddie kept a keen eye on you, feeling guilty to be driving you back to that hell-hole. Even if itâs what you wanted. âYâOkay? We donât have to do this. Iâve got some cash to spare. We can stop at a thrift somewhere and find you some new clothes if thatâs what this is about.â
âNo, I need to do this.â
âWanna explain to me why? I mean, if itâs what you want to do, Iâll be right there with you butâŚâ Eddie looked to you expectantly. You sighed, already feeling silly by your pending admittance.
âItâs stupidâŚbut part of me feels like taking back whatâs mineâŚitâs kind of like taking my life back. Sorta breaking ties? You said this was my first real day of freedom. I wanted to feel truly free. I donât knowâŚI guess it makes more sense in my head.â
âItâs not stupid at all. I totally get it. And if this is what it takes to free you of that burden, Iâm all in.â Eddie knew that getting your things wouldnât separate you from the years of abuse but if it would make you feel any bit better, maybe it was worth it. Healing has to start somewhere. âItâs justâŚkinda risky. Yâknow?â Eddie was caught between wanting to be the voice of reason and being a complete pushover for you.
âShould be pretty easy. I kept my window unlocked. Just give me a boost and Iâll grab what I need. You can be look-out.â Eddie inhaled sharply through his teeth. It seemed like a decent enough plan but the thought of you being back in that house at all made him uncomfortable.
âOkay, just make it quick.â
You could see the house coming up on the right. You hadnât been gone long. Only a day. But in that short amount of time, you were able to gain more perspective. Your conversations with Wayne. Youâre time alone with Eddie. Things you never wouldâve had if you hadnât have ran. Those things made you realize just how fucked up things had gotten. How needless it all was. Never once had you given your father reason to punish you. Still you were confined by the walls of that house. Prey waiting for your fatherâs instinct to attack. You were a prisoner in your own home. An undeserving outlet he used to satisfying his need for control by any means necessary. Even at his own daughterâs expense. You observed the paint chipped windows ledges, the algae stain banisters. Was home always this ugly? As the driveway came into view, so did a rust eaten Chevy pickup. A terrible omen.
âShit! Heâs home. We should go.â Eddie was ready to squeal tires in a u-turn to get you the fuck away from there. You clasped your hand around his arm before he even attempted.
âNo! I need to do this.â You reiterated. âJust park around the next house.â You may have been scared but the determination you felt was strong enough to carry you through. With a hefty sigh, Eddie parked the van in the empty driveway of a neighboring house. Eddie shut the engine off, turning to you in a stern manner.
âAlright. But youâre not going in alone! Fuck being lookout. Iâm going in there incase anything happens.â
âââ
While your fatherâs behavior was erratic, he followed patterns. If he was already home it meant he had worked the night shift. Heâd be in bed for a couple more hours. No way he could sleep sober so he was likely cemented to the mattress with the help of whisky and or the occasional narcotic. As long as you were quiet, you could slip in and out without notice. You were sure of it. Still, you needed to be strategic in case of any hiccups. Eddie followed you like a lost puppy as you cut through the backyard, avoiding the windows of the livingroom and your fatherâs bedroom. Once under the window to your room, your placed your finger tips on the glass and pushed up slowly. While it wasnât exactly silent you doubted its ability to stir your father from his induced slumber.
âReady?â With his hand on the small of your back, Eddieâs searching eyes scanned you for any hint of apprehension. There was none.
âYea, ready.â You prepped yourself for the squeeze of Eddieâs arms around your thighs. His cheek rested in the middle of your back. You could feel the heat radiating from him as he lifted you with ease. In any other circumstance, the contact would leave you blushing but your head was far too cluttered with the task at hand to savor the feeling. With one hand against the dingey vinyl siding to steady yourself, you used the other to further push the window open. Slipping inside was easy. Eddie followed suit. One jump and he hoisted himself up the rest of the way, gripping onto the windowâs ledge.
You immediately began gathering bags from your closet, stuffing them full of clothes, jewelry and whatever else you could fit. Eddie stood in the center of the floor, taking in the cream colored bedding and pale yellow walls. While there was nothing extraordinary about the room, it was yours. He admired the small details like the whimsied romance novels that sat on your shelf. The records that sat by the hi-fi. Fleetwood Mac and Tom Petty being the most recognizable. He spotted what looked to be a well loved bear laid lonely on your unmade bed. Eddie picked him up, catching his own reflection in its shiny eyes. It was a tiny, little thing. Stomach slightly flatted from what he assumed was years worth of your affection. He stuffed him in the interior pocket of his leather jacket. The little guy needed you. And by the looks of it, maybe you needed him too?
You went over your mental checklist of must haves. It all seemed to be there, but a small momento on the top shelf of your closet called out to you. A music box your mother gave you from years before. You didnât have much to left of your mother. Just a couple of small trinkets and the nose you inherited from her. But that music box meant a lot to you. It chirped the tune of âYou Are My Sunshine.â a song your mother used to sing to you as a child. You kept it in your closet, afraid your father would break it the way he did every picture of her that hung on the walls.
âReady?â Eddie whispered, the sound being absorbed by the walls and a television broadcasting infomercial from another room.
âYea. Give me just a sec.â Eddie zipped up the bags, three in total before gently lowering them out the window. Meanwhile, you made yourself tall, stretching your arms upwards to the last bit of your mother you had left. You tipped your finger against the item, scooting it further to the ledge. But with that also came old boxes of shoes you had long since grown out of. You covered your head as they loudly toppled down around you. The music box came crashing to the floor. Itâs song began to play like a siren as you heard you father, startled and hurried awake from another room.
âThe fuck is there!?â He shouted. Heavy footsteps followed.
âWeâre leaving NOW!â Eddie grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the rubble. âRun to the van, Iâll buy us some more time.â Once again, you counted your fatherâs footsteps the way you always had. There wasnât much time.
âNo! Eddie-â
âI said go!â He pushed you towards the window. You froze in place, staring back at him. The fear winning once again. âHurry up! Get to the van NOW!â The urgency in his voice snapped you back. In an instant you were climbing back out the window, grabbing your things and making a break for it. Eddie used his weight to scoot the dresser in front of your bedroom door and not a moment too soon. Your father turned and shook the knob violently.
âWHO THE FUCK IS IN THERE!? Y/N!? OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR!â The man screamed as he threw his weight into the door. It rattled on the hinges. Eddieâs heart was racing. The fear he felt was instantly replaced with rage. The way he cursed your name infuriated him.
You waited in the van, a sickness coursing through you. Every second lasted entirely too long. Your thumbs pressed into the sides of your index fingers. Leaving behind crescent moon indentation as you waited in agony, terrified that Eddie was still in the house. The shakey breath held in your throat released as you watched him round the corner with a speed you never expected of him. He jumped into the driver seat, disheveled and out of breath. He slammed the keys into the ignition with precision bringing the motor to life.
âEDDIE! ARE YOU OKAY!? WHAT HAPPENED!?â Your wide eyes darted over every inch of him. Looking for any sign of injury or an altercation. Eddie smiled triumphantly.
âWhat happened? We got away! Thatâs what fucking happened!â Eddie peeled out of the driveway, his middle finger waving from the window as he tore down your street. âSEE YOU IN HELL, ASSHOLE!â
Your father heard the screech of tires and ran to the living room window, spotting a familiar vehicle speeding down the asphaltâŚ
âââ
âWoo! That was a fucking rush!â Eddie bounced in his seat to the rhythm of whatever song was playing over the tape deck. He expect you to match his energy, feeling exhilarated by defeating your father once again. Instead you were a mess, shaking and struggling to breath at an even pace.
âHey, hey! Whatâs going on sweetheart?â
âI-I canât- I canât-â You pressed your hands against your chest as you rocked back and forth in your seat in desperation of a satisfying breath and softer beat of your heart.
âJust hold on!â Eddie pulled into a convenience store parking lot to give you his full attention. No sooner than he put the van in park, he unfastened his seatbelt to get closer to you. âOpen your eyes for me? Look at me, please?â You snapped your eyes open to his worried face, inches from yours. A thin line rested between his brows while they pinched together. You were in the midst of an anxiety attack and Eddie was desperate to pull you out of it. He felt a physical ache in his chest seeing you that way. Something he didnât know was possible. âShh, youâre okay. Weâre out of there, heâs gone and weâre not going back.â He picked up your hands and squeezed hoping the pressure might ground you. âBreathe with me. Weâre gonna get through this. Itâs gonna pass.â The sun glistened in Eddieâs eyes, warming their umber appearance to a darkened shade of honey. You locked in on them, staring deeply as your chest began to rise and fall at the pace he set. âThatâs it. Keep breathing.â He thought further into what he could do to speed up the process. As he shifted in his seat, he felt something soft at his side. Suddenly he remembered. âI uh- I picked something up for you when you werenât looking.â He fished the stuffed bear out of his pocket, presenting it to you with a saccharine sweet smile. The muscles in your cheeks flinched happily
âBeau?â Your unsteady hands pulled the push animal under your chin. You closed your eyes once more, melting into the comfort of the beloved item.
âYeaâŚBeau.â He didnât look like a Beau to Eddie but he figured heâd tease you about it some other time.
âThank you, Eddie. I was so caught up with everything else, I-I almost forgot about him.â The storm inside you was blowing over. Your breathing no longer labored and heart slowing to itâs natural tempo, you began to relax. Thus, so could Eddie.
âGlad to have you back. Letâs get you and umâŚBeau home.â âââ
Tag List @saramelaniemoon @eddiesguitarskills @whoahoney @erinsingalong @eddie-swhore @cherrycolas-things @idkatee @anislabonis-love @audhd-dragonaut @my-tearsricochet @mrsdollardog @singularattitudeofasafetypin
#Eddie Munson fanfic#Eddie Munson fic#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson x y/n#eddie Munson x fem!reader#eddie Munson x female!reader#eddie Munson fluff#Eddie Munson angst#Eddie Munson hurt/comfort
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Fics I Need
if you have recs, please send them.
⢠Line Cook!Eddie x Waitress!Reader
⢠Anything Southern!Eddie
⢠Coming out to Eddie
⢠Babysitter!Eddie
#Please send me things so Iâm not tempted to start other fics with so many things on my plateđ#eddie munson fics#eddie munson fanfic
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Eddie is an ally, thinks stuffed animals have feelings and would 100% fight your dad. What a man.
Iâm On Fire | Part 3

Eddie x Fem Reader (Part 1, Part 2 Working on Part 4)
Summary: Your first date with Eddie didnât exactly go the way he envisioned. As apprehensive as Eddie was to drive you back to the house you had just escaped, he could never say no to you. (Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of abuse and anxiety attacks.)
âââ
Condensation beaded on the windows of the cozy diner. Muggy heat from the grills sizzled and filled the air with the all encompassing scent of hot grease and something delicious. Truckers slumped over the counter. Their tired eyes looming over black coffee and headlines of the local paper. The toes of your sneakers scraped and rolled against the linoleum as your legs dangled from the red leather of the booth.
Eddie watched you contently, softly smiling to yourself as you drew familiar shapes on the window with your finger. Flowers, stars. The gleam of early afternoon sun saturated your eyes into a beautiful hue. He could stare at you like this for hours. Among the sad excuses of drawings, dripping down the window was a pair of stick figures. You etched little hearts above their heads.
âTheyâre lovers.â You stated matter of factly. Eddie stared at them for a moment before pressing his pinky to the glass, blessing both figures with matching sets of circle-boobs.
âI support it.â He nodded, satisfied with his contribution.
âSuch a child.â You chided happily as you wiped the scene away with your sleeve. Eddie gasped.
âY/N! I canât believe youâd be so narrow minded!â
âHa Ha. Very funny.â The playful back and forth was exactly what you needed to bring yourself out of your own troubled head which is exactly what Eddie wanted. And if that meant being a nuisance to those around you, so be it. Carefully, he tore the paper from one end of his straw, sliding it back just far enough to rest the end between his lips. You watched him skeptically as he wagged his brows at you. One puff of breath and the paper wrapper launched from the end of his straw and directly into the crunchy perm of a woman from an adjacent table. You gasped very audibly, mouth open and eyes wide.
âLook away. Look away.â Eddie demanded in the least demanding way possible. Lightening speed, he twisted his body to the window, acting oblivious and totally innocent. He rested his chin in his hand. A clever ploy so that his fingers could conceal his growing smirk. You clasped your own hand over your mouth. Suppressed giggles shook your shoulders. They grew worse with every shush Eddie uttered. The longer the woman went without noticing, the funnier it was. Unable to contain yourself, you threw your arms up on the table and rested your head, face down between them. Barricading yourself from the scene.
âWay to be discreet.â Eddie teased, leaning over the table to pull the hood of your jacket tightly over your head.
âHey!â You sprang up and pulled the hood back, leaving your hair tussled and in disarray. Eddieâs eyes were soft on you still. âWayne said to keep me out of trouble. Remember?â
âI canât imagine what you might be talking about.â He feigned innocence. Eddie glanced from the corner of his eye, noticing the woman had finally found the paper lodged in her hair. âOkay, for real this time. Donât look.â He whispered, somehow masterfully controlling his facial expression and nonchalantly taking a sip of his milkshake. You on the other hand were way less cool. You sucked your lips into a tight smile, head dipped low you gingerly tore the wrapper off your straw and focused way too hard on the table. âYou are so lame.â Eddie laughed.
The playful teasing and flirtatious smiles werenât new but somehow, outside the concrete walls of school, they felt more intimate. It proved the way you felt about Eddie was real and not just some crush based on the circumstantial proximity the high school allotted. The way you felt about him carried over into the real world and withstood the weight of your darkest secret. Youâd never wanted anyone the way you wanted him. Meanwhile, Eddie fought the urge to hold your hand across the table and you wondered why he wasnât.
âWhatâs next on the agenda?â Eddie popped a fry into his mouth. His lips made a comical smack as he sucked the salt off his thumb. âItâs your day, sweetheart. What dâya wanna do?â
âââ
âYâknow when I asked what you wanted to doâŚI meant likeâŚmore date stuff.â With his hands clasped around the steering wheel, Eddie shook his head in disbelief. Your stomach twisted with every familiar bump in the pavement. Your heart felt like it was thrashing against the cage that was your chest. Eddie kept a keen eye on you, feeling guilty to be driving you back to that hell-hole. Even if itâs what you wanted. âYâOkay? We donât have to do this. Iâve got some cash to spare. We can stop at a thrift somewhere and find you some new clothes if thatâs what this is about.â
âNo, I need to do this.â
âWanna explain to me why? I mean, if itâs what you want to do, Iâll be right there with you butâŚâ Eddie looked to you expectantly. You sighed, already feeling silly by your pending admittance.
âItâs stupidâŚbut part of me feels like taking back whatâs mineâŚitâs kind of like taking my life back. Sorta breaking ties? You said this was my first real day of freedom. I wanted to feel truly free. I donât knowâŚI guess it makes more sense in my head.â
âItâs not stupid at all. I totally get it. And if this is what it takes to free you of that burden, Iâm all in.â Eddie knew that getting your things wouldnât separate you from the years of abuse but if it would make you feel any bit better, maybe it was worth it. Healing has to start somewhere. âItâs justâŚkinda risky. Yâknow?â Eddie was caught between wanting to be the voice of reason and being a complete pushover for you.
âShould be pretty easy. I kept my window unlocked. Just give me a boost and Iâll grab what I need. You can be look-out.â Eddie inhaled sharply through his teeth. It seemed like a decent enough plan but the thought of you being back in that house at all made him uncomfortable.
âOkay, just make it quick.â
You could see the house coming up on the right. You hadnât been gone long. Only a day. But in that short amount of time, you were able to gain more perspective. Your conversations with Wayne. Youâre time alone with Eddie. Things you never wouldâve had if you hadnât have ran. Those things made you realize just how fucked up things had gotten. How needless it all was. Never once had you given your father reason to punish you. Still you were confined by the walls of that house. Prey waiting for your fatherâs instinct to attack. You were a prisoner in your own home. An undeserving outlet he used to satisfying his need for control by any means necessary. Even at his own daughterâs expense. You observed the paint chipped windows ledges, the algae stain banisters. Was home always this ugly? As the driveway came into view, so did a rust eaten Chevy pickup. A terrible omen.
âShit! Heâs home. We should go.â Eddie was ready to squeal tires in a u-turn to get you the fuck away from there. You clasped your hand around his arm before he even attempted.
âNo! I need to do this.â You reiterated. âJust park around the next house.â You may have been scared but the determination you felt was strong enough to carry you through. With a hefty sigh, Eddie parked the van in the empty driveway of a neighboring house. Eddie shut the engine off, turning to you in a stern manner.
âAlright. But youâre not going in alone! Fuck being lookout. Iâm going in there incase anything happens.â
âââ
While your fatherâs behavior was erratic, he followed patterns. If he was already home it meant he had worked the night shift. Heâd be in bed for a couple more hours. No way he could sleep sober so he was likely cemented to the mattress with the help of whisky and or the occasional narcotic. As long as you were quiet, you could slip in and out without notice. You were sure of it. Still, you needed to be strategic in case of any hiccups. Eddie followed you like a lost puppy as you cut through the backyard, avoiding the windows of the livingroom and your fatherâs bedroom. Once under the window to your room, your placed your finger tips on the glass and pushed up slowly. While it wasnât exactly silent you doubted its ability to stir your father from his induced slumber.
âReady?â With his hand on the small of your back, Eddieâs searching eyes scanned you for any hint of apprehension. There was none.
âYea, ready.â You prepped yourself for the squeeze of Eddieâs arms around your thighs. His cheek rested in the middle of your back. You could feel the heat radiating from him as he lifted you with ease. In any other circumstance, the contact would leave you blushing but your head was far too cluttered with the task at hand to savor the feeling. With one hand against the dingey vinyl siding to steady yourself, you used the other to further push the window open. Slipping inside was easy. Eddie followed suit. One jump and he hoisted himself up the rest of the way, gripping onto the windowâs ledge.
You immediately began gathering bags from your closet, stuffing them full of clothes, jewelry and whatever else you could fit. Eddie stood in the center of the floor, taking in the cream colored bedding and pale yellow walls. While there was nothing extraordinary about the room, it was yours. He admired the small details like the whimsied romance novels that sat on your shelf. The records that sat by the hi-fi. Fleetwood Mac and Tom Petty being the most recognizable. He spotted what looked to be a well loved bear laid lonely on your unmade bed. Eddie picked him up, catching his own reflection in its shiny eyes. It was a tiny, little thing. Stomach slightly flatted from what he assumed was years worth of your affection. He stuffed him in the interior pocket of his leather jacket. The little guy needed you. And by the looks of it, maybe you needed him too?
You went over your mental checklist of must haves. It all seemed to be there, but a small momento on the top shelf of your closet called out to you. A music box your mother gave you from years before. You didnât have much to left of your mother. Just a couple of small trinkets and the nose you inherited from her. But that music box meant a lot to you. It chirped the tune of âYou Are My Sunshine.â a song your mother used to sing to you as a child. You kept it in your closet, afraid your father would break it the way he did every picture of her that hung on the walls.
âReady?â Eddie whispered, the sound being absorbed by the walls and a television broadcasting infomercial from another room.
âYea. Give me just a sec.â Eddie zipped up the bags, three in total before gently lowering them out the window. Meanwhile, you made yourself tall, stretching your arms upwards to the last bit of your mother you had left. You tipped your finger against the item, scooting it further to the ledge. But with that also came old boxes of shoes you had long since grown out of. You covered your head as they loudly toppled down around you. The music box came crashing to the floor. Itâs song began to play like a siren as you heard you father, startled and hurried awake from another room.
âThe fuck is there!?â He shouted. Heavy footsteps followed.
âWeâre leaving NOW!â Eddie grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the rubble. âRun to the van, Iâll buy us some more time.â Once again, you counted your fatherâs footsteps the way you always had. There wasnât much time.
âNo! Eddie-â
âI said go!â He pushed you towards the window. You froze in place, staring back at him. The fear winning once again. âHurry up! Get to the van NOW!â The urgency in his voice snapped you back. In an instant you were climbing back out the window, grabbing your things and making a break for it. Eddie used his weight to scoot the dresser in front of your bedroom door and not a moment too soon. Your father turned and shook the knob violently.
âWHO THE FUCK IS IN THERE!? Y/N!? OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR!â The man screamed as he threw his weight into the door. It rattled on the hinges. Eddieâs heart was racing. The fear he felt was instantly replaced with rage. The way he cursed your name infuriated him.
You waited in the van, a sickness coursing through you. Every second lasted entirely too long. Your thumbs pressed into the sides of your index fingers. Leaving behind crescent moon indentation as you waited in agony, terrified that Eddie was still in the house. The shakey breath held in your throat released as you watched him round the corner with a speed you never expected of him. He jumped into the driver seat, disheveled and out of breath. He slammed the keys into the ignition with precision bringing the motor to life.
âEDDIE! ARE YOU OKAY!? WHAT HAPPENED!?â Your wide eyes darted over every inch of him. Looking for any sign of injury or an altercation. Eddie smiled triumphantly.
âWhat happened? We got away! Thatâs what fucking happened!â Eddie peeled out of the driveway, his middle finger waving from the window as he tore down your street. âSEE YOU IN HELL, ASSHOLE!â
Your father heard the screech of tires and ran to the living room window, spotting a familiar vehicle speeding down the asphaltâŚ
âââ
âWoo! That was a fucking rush!â Eddie bounced in his seat to the rhythm of whatever song was playing over the tape deck. He expect you to match his energy, feeling exhilarated by defeating your father once again. Instead you were a mess, shaking and struggling to breath at an even pace.
âHey, hey! Whatâs going on sweetheart?â
âI-I canât- I canât-â You pressed your hands against your chest as you rocked back and forth in your seat in desperation of a satisfying breath and softer beat of your heart.
âJust hold on!â Eddie pulled into a convenience store parking lot to give you his full attention. No sooner than he put the van in park, he unfastened his seatbelt to get closer to you. âOpen your eyes for me? Look at me, please?â You snapped your eyes open to his worried face, inches from yours. A thin line rested between his brows while they pinched together. You were in the midst of an anxiety attack and Eddie was desperate to pull you out of it. He felt a physical ache in his chest seeing you that way. Something he didnât know was possible. âShh, youâre okay. Weâre out of there, heâs gone and weâre not going back.â He picked up your hands and squeezed hoping the pressure might ground you. âBreathe with me. Weâre gonna get through this. Itâs gonna pass.â The sun glistened in Eddieâs eyes, warming their umber appearance to a darkened shade of honey. You locked in on them, staring deeply as your chest began to rise and fall at the pace he set. âThatâs it. Keep breathing.â He thought further into what he could do to speed up the process. As he shifted in his seat, he felt something soft at his side. Suddenly he remembered. âI uh- I picked something up for you when you werenât looking.â He fished the stuffed bear out of his pocket, presenting it to you with a saccharine sweet smile. The muscles in your cheeks flinched happily
âBeau?â Your unsteady hands pulled the push animal under your chin. You closed your eyes once more, melting into the comfort of the beloved item.
âYeaâŚBeau.â He didnât look like a Beau to Eddie but he figured heâd tease you about it some other time.
âThank you, Eddie. I was so caught up with everything else, I-I almost forgot about him.â The storm inside you was blowing over. Your breathing no longer labored and heart slowing to itâs natural tempo, you began to relax. Thus, so could Eddie.
âGlad to have you back. Letâs get you and umâŚBeau home.â âââ
Tag List @saramelaniemoon @eddiesguitarskills @whoahoney @erinsingalong @eddie-swhore @cherrycolas-things @idkatee @anislabonis-love @audhd-dragonaut @my-tearsricochet @mrsdollardog @singularattitudeofasafetypin
#Eddie Munson fic#Eddie Munson fanfic#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson x y/n#Eddie Munson x fem reader#Eddie Munson x fem!reader#eddie Munson x female reader#Eddie Munson x female!reader#eddie Munson fluff#Eddie Munson angst#Eddie Munson friends to lovers#eddie munson hurt/comfort
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