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madelynraemunson · 1 year

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book 1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club)

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove! reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MINORS DNI

006: The Eddie Special

Rent is paid, food is on the table, and Max finally has a YMCA membership! All because of you. But just when you think you've got your two lives under control, Robin and Vicky show up to Hellfire for date night — and see you dancing center stage.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 5.2k words

warnings — eddie being an asshole again but also very sweet, mutual pining, angst, yearning, profanities, power imbalance, double standards, smoking, alcohol, sexual harassment, health issues/disparities, trauma, pedophilia, incest, name-calling

“A compromise would surely help the situation.”

♡

“Hey, stranger.”

Robin flashes you a “good morning” smile as you’re washing the dishes. Scooting to the side, you continue to scrub as she leans against the sink with her back, munching away at her breakfast sandwich that Vicky had prepped for her the night before.

“Morning,” you grin in return.

“Funny,” she says. “We live under the same roof now but our friendship still feels long distance.”

“Sorry… ” you frown. “Work’s just been a lot.”

So is living a double life. To shake off the guilt that constantly gnawed at you, you dry your hands and proceed to make yourself some coffee. When you scan the fridge, the only creamer you can get your hands on is...

Hazelnut. Just your luck.

There’s a tinge in your chest as you dunk it into your mug. You stir aggressively. Robin notices how tense you are and walks over to you.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, my guy,” she says as she pats you on the back. “Healthcare is tough. I dated a travel nurse once and that poor woman had back problems for days.”

“Such a physically and emotionally taxing job,” Vicky adds as she emerges from their room. “I don’t know how you do it, Hargrove.”

“Good morning, baby.”

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

Smooch.

You chuckle to yourself as you sip your Eddie-coded coffee.

“Yeah. I don't know how I do it either…”

The wooden stairs creek and crack as a pair of Vans stomp against them. Max is awake. This morning is an exciting one. After many, many overtime shifts at Hellfire, you've accumulated enough tip money to pay for Max's membership for 12 months. On top of that, rent had already been paid so you had a hefty cushion leftover for leisurely expenses.

You can hardly contain yourself. Seeing the surprised look on your sister's face is sure to be the highlight of your morning.

Max stares at you in shock when she sees you in the kitchen.

“Whoa,” she says. “She’s awake.”

You only ever see Max in passing when she comes home from the skate park. And that's right when you leave for work. From what she tells you she hasn't made many friends, but her main priorities right now are her hobbies and preparing herself for college classes in the Fall. Sometimes Max will tag along with Robin and Vicky to run errands, but you can tell she misses spending time with, and seeing, her sister.

“Shocker, right?” you sigh. “Thought I'd catch you before you head out.”

With your hands behind your back, you stride over to Max to give her her well-earned gift.

“What’s this?” she wonders.

“Your ticket to the Y,” you explain. “A band and a quarter, should last you a year.”

"Whoa!" Vicky exclaims.

"Holy shit! Look at that!" Robin cheers.

Max's eyes widen as she takes the money from you. “ $1200?! What bank did you have to rob to get $1200?”

“No bank,” you shake your head as Max counts all of the Benjamins. “Just the pockets of old, retired folk.”

You grin from ear to ear as you watch Max get bombarded with hugs that she is reluctant to accept, but does regardless. Vicky and Robin hoot and holler and squeal and cheer, reaffirming to Max that she deserves it the most.

“You’re really giving the elderly a run for their money,” Max says as the celebration comes to an end.

You watch in amusement as Vicky and Robin take turns counting Max's money.

“Yeah well it’s the least they can do for me,” you sigh. “My body feels like it’s aged 10 years.”

Max excuses herself from your roommates and throws herself onto you this time. You do your best not to cry. You've really missed her hugs.

“Thank you,” she says. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Seeing how happy your sister is makes all your struggles worth it. Anything for Maxine.

———— 🔥 ————

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I don’t really give a damn right now.”

The past couple of weeks at Hellfire have been nothing short of awkward.

Eddie only really comes to you when he needs something, which — now that you've taken off those rose-tinted glasses — pretty much fits the bill of who he is as a person.

But he still lingers. For example, when you and Chrissy go on breaks together, there is always something for Eddie to do in close proximity. Table needs wiping? Eddie is there. Aisle needs sweeping? Mike, go help in the back. When you're dancing on customers, Eddie comes out from doing paperwork in his den to greet the regulars. And whenever you would turn to look at what Eddie’s doing, his gaze is already fixed on you and what you’re doing.

Like cat and mouse. But of course, he does it with all his dancers. Right?

A part of you wants to confront Eddie and his behavior, but before you even can he's out the back door to go on a "smoke break" with Argyle after closing, which usually is a short jump to him leaving. So you try to act unbothered by it by staying just a while longer with Henry… just in case he does come back.

But Henry puts you to work when you stay. He typically has you make sure all doors are locked, all chairs are stacked, and that any stray garbage is thrown away. You two play music while you work alongside one another, talking shit about customers and about how every day is starting to look the same.

You’re aware of how you openly contradict yourself, saying the days all bleed into one another and how you miss your bed. Yet you’re still at Hellfire. Way past closing time. Henry for sure has caught on to your odd behavior, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he enjoys your company.

It’s like clockwork now, this ritual-slash-routine.

Today is different for some reason.

"Hey!" Eddie calls out. “Shy Girl!”

You’re alone eating in an isolated part of VECNA’S LAIR when Boss Man makes his way over to you.

You’re frozen in your spot as he approaches you…willingly. Although you could care a lot less about his presence, the gesture still causes you to sit up a little straighter and blot-dry any remnants of your food with your napkin.

Eddie sets down new laminated prints of his menu in front of you. Plop.

"New item on the menu,” he gloats, very amused with himself. “Waffle fries. What do you think?"

Annoyed, you huff.

"Sure."

Two weeks of barely uttering a sentence to one another. Two weeks of avoiding eye contact and possibly one ‘excuse me’. Two weeks of being a background character in Eddie’s life and his icy shoulder making sure you knew it.

Now you’re more than an extra today. Because today Eddie decides you’re something of value, and that just for today your input actually matters. It's pathetic. It all makes Steve and Nancy look like best friends.

Your eyes travel to his firm hands. His silver rings. You hate to admit that you miss how they felt against your skin, especially since your skin seemingly isn't the only one he grazes. I do this with all my dancers. Your hands ball into fists. How can someone be so okay with using someone the way Eddie did with you?

"So we'll do regular waffle fries and the crinkle cuts will be our sweet potato fries from now on,” he explains.

“Mhm.”

“And eventually,” Eddie booms dramatically. “We’ll introduce the concept of different types of fries. Cajun fries, cheese fries, chili cheese fries. Then we'll introduce new cuts like curly fries... wedges..."

Not a word from you.

"Then we’ll do animal style fries like how you Californians do it at In-N-Out. I’ll call it ‘The Eddie Special’. It’ll be amazing!”

"You call the shots, Eddie."

Like he always does.

Eddie finally gets the message. You watch as his shoulders droop as he surrenders.

"Are you okay?" he dares to ask perplexedly.

"Never better!" you exclaim.

You grab your finished meal and dart past him, not even bothering to pardon yourself when your shoulders brush his slightly. You hear Eddie exhale, super displeased as the taps he makes on the table with his fingers render themselves fast and impatient.

“You don’t wanna stay and chat?” your superior demands sharply.

“I have to clock back in,” you answer coldly. “Sorry.”

“K then,” Eddie quietly mutters, returning the energy.

You try to look busy, so you pull out your phone and pretend to check something. Luckily, a text message from Robin pops up for you to reply to.

ROBIN BUCKLEY ☀️🤍

Date night with Vicky tonight. Breakfast/lunch/dinner waiting for you in the fridge when you get home 😁

You smile.

You da bestest 🩷 thank u

Buzz.

ROBIN BUCKLEY ☀️🤍 loved “You da bestest 🩷 thank u”

“Hey, Hargrove?” Eddie calls out to you.

His voice sounds a lot softer and apologetic. With the optimism that your tactic worked, you spin around to face Eddie with eager eyes. Maybe today is the day things go back to normal again.

“Hm?”

“No going on your phone when you’re clocked in, k?”

A blow to the chest. Bitter and agitated, you shove your phone into the back pocket of your booty shorts. Yes sir, you mutter to yourself mentally.

After thanking you, Eddie struts to the kitchen, using his own phone to pull up Dio on Spotify. He and Argyle like to head-bang and fuck around in the kitchen when they’re together. Messing around is only okay if Eddie does it, you assume.

To make matters worse, Eddie then proceeds to use his stupid phone to send someone a text. You scoff at the irony. Fucking prick.

Another trigger of yours? Power imbalance and double standards.

Attempting to be drama-free, you ironically make your way over to Steve and Jonathan, who are posted up at POTIONS.

“Hey Shy Girl,” Jonathan nods.

"Hey Johnny," you greet him.

You turn to the literal love of your life.

“Sup, Steve.”

"Hey, Hargrove," Steve nods. "How'd you do on tips last night?"

"Stellar," you answer. "Fucking love Fridays."

You and Steve are still casually hooking up. But just as you predicted, things aren’t quite the same. The problem this week is that Steve is struggling to finish, and you start to feel discouraged and insecure when he softens up inside of you.

Steve always used to finish. Now when you look up at him his gaze is fixed on something else, his strokes are less enthusiastic, and he mistaked one of your kinks for someone else’s once. But you pretend not to notice. A part of you even feels like you deserve it.

Steve is struggling with the eye contact today. You kick at the floor, trying to find a way to make your presence relevant in this corner of Hellfire. Knowing very well what you’re doing, Steve holds up a French fry from his red picnic tray as a supportive gesture.

"Would you like some?"

You beam at him and open your mouth so he can feed you. Steve obliges.

“Thanks boo,” you say to him as you chew.

He blushes. “Welcome.”

“You guys are cute,” Jonathan smiles as he wipes his hands with a hand towel. “I gotta run to the restroom, you mind watching the bar for a bit, Hargrove?”

“Not at all,” you oblige. “I’ll be here. Eating Steve’s fries.”

“Great,” Jonathan says, excusing himself. Then he halts. “Oh! If you open the register, Eddie has something for you underneath. Code is 0-1-1.”

Eddie has something…for you?

You turn to Steve and he just shrugs. As if it weren’t already obvious, you and Eddie weren’t exactly on friendly terms. What could that man possibly have for you?

It’s a termination notice, you can feel it. Bracing yourself for the absolute worst, you punch the code in.

0 - 1 - 1.

CHA-CHING! The register pops open. You lift the till that housed the cash and coins to unveil a pile of cash joined together by a small paper clip. There is a tiny note that was written onto a ripped piece of paper.

You pick it up. This couldn’t be for you, you think. But the sloppy handwriting with a partially bleeding pen says otherwise.

‘Hargrove: $600 — YMCA MONEY’

----- ❤️‍🩹 -----

“She the devil, she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel.”

Tonight you’re doing private dances with customers and also doing tip rail. But you wish you were just doing tip rail 'cause tonight’s clients were ballsy.

One patron said you look like his daughter. But it’s okay because ‘she’s married and out of the house’. Another said you look like one of his students. But it's totally okay because he teaches at the community college, therefore almost every pupil there is ‘at least 18’. It still doesn’t make it any better. All you could think about is your 18 year old baby sister — someone’s daughter and someone’s someone — someone who will also be walking the halls of Hawkins Community College later this month.

This customer, however, takes the cake. After guiding his hand away multiple times during the lap dance, he always manages to find the straps of your bra again. Upon strike three, you lose all patience.

“Yo, can you not do that?” you hiss, your inner Cali dude coming out to play. “I moved your hand away many times.”

The man is almost appalled. “It’s a strip club, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I strip on my terms.”

"I paid for your services," he spat. "So I'm sure I get to do what I want, hoe."

“Don’t call me that!”

“I'll call you what I want,” the customer insists. “It’s what you are anyways if you’re in this job right?”

He takes out another dollar and tucks it into one of your cups. You could only stare in shock. The audacity of this guy.

“Here,” he says degradingly. “Looks like you really need it. Now let me see those tits. Please.”

Anger consumes you. Whatever amount of the Neutral Wolf you had left in you has now melted away. The Big Bad Wolf is taking over now. You give the man a shove, hoisting yourself off his disgusting body.

"What the FUCK is your deal, bruh?" you bark, a piece of Billy coming out of you more than you intended. "You want a piece of me that badly, don't you?"

Your words cause a scene in the surrounding area. Not even phased by it, the patron decides to push you further.

“Easy, easy,” he rolls his eyes. “If it’s that much of an issue I’ll just take my money back.”

He yanks the dollar back from out of your bra. His knuckles just grazed your tits.

“What kinda strip club is this anyways? Theme is janky as fuck. The STRIPPERS don’t even strip. They’re RUDE, and they’re butt ugly. The owner should be ashamed. Oh and by the looks of it, you don’t have much tits to work with after all.”

“Pull up your shirt,” you quip. “I think I found ‘em.”

This poor man. He didn't know you're a Hargrove.

And soon you’re throwing shit. His money. Your shoes. Every curse word in the dictionary, both traditional and urban with the exception of a few. You’re seeing all red now, and you’re pretty sure if no one stopped you, you’d have ripped the guy’s head off.

“If I don’t have tits, why you trying to get at me?” you roar. “You like little boys or something, bitch?!”

“HENRY!” Eddie shouts.

You turn in the direction of Eddie’s voice. He had been watching. Through your furious, free-falling tears, you can see in his dark eyes, closed fists, and flared nostrils that he is angry as well.

“On it, boss!” Henry shouts as he scampers on over. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, asshole?”

The friendly bouncer swoops you off to the side and asserts himself between you both. Lucky for the guy, no dislocated limbs were in the cards today. All it took was another person with a penis to get this fool to back down. He tries to reason with Henry but it’s far too late. Henry’s already pushing him towards the door.

“I’ll be coming BACK to have my way with you,” the beast growls and spits. “Fucking SKANK!”

“I HOPE THE FUCK YOU DO, MOTHERFUCKER!” you challenge him. "I'll be right here waiting!”

A calloused hand lands on your lower back. Thinking it’s another customer, you turn aggressively, fist winded up. As quickly as you lunge, a large palm catches it mid-air.

It’s Eddie.

Worry washes over your boss’s face when you two lock eyes for the first time. After what seemed like an eternity. He looks at you with the utmost concern. You almost see a tear glistening in his eye. A portion of his hair falls over his face in attempts to conceal it.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks again, genuinely.

You nod, gulping.

You aren't okay, that's the thing. Not when Eddie looks like that. And not when he's looking at you, like that. Suddenly, Hellfire melts away and you're back in his van, fighting back every urge to fall into him and his musky, pine aroma infused with nicotine, weed, and beer. Just like home. Eddie feels like home.

Papers beat rock. Slowly, Eddie lowers your fist with the palm he had draped over you. The pulsing music and blinding strobe lights trickle back into your system.

"It's okay if you aren't..." Eddie starts. “You know... alright.”

"Eddie," you stop him. "Please. I'm alright."

“That was a lot.”

“But it's nothing new to me.”

He studies you. Doesn’t speak for a while.

“It's true!” you insist, attempting to diffuse Eddie's concern. “It kinda reminded me of the frat parties in San Diego I used to go to. You know what I’m saying?”

You try to laugh. But Eddie doesn’t. Henry and some dancers come to check up on you, especially Chrissy, to ask if you're okay. They even try to start a petition to jump the guy. You repeat the very thing you've been saying since it happened — yes, you are okay — and thank them for their concern. Then it's back to you and Eddie the moment they all disperse.

"Want a break?" he offers.

You shake your head. Dancing it off would help more, actually. And besides, if his offer is just another attempt to get you alone in his car and fire you up only to extinguish it all again in one sitting, you'll pass.

"Wanna go on stage now then? Get a break from individual dances?"

You smile and nod. "I'd love that."

The night can only get better from here. Eddie offers you his hand and helps to hoist you onto the stage. The DJ announces your name, and you’re back in business, putting on your million dollar smile and batting your seductive, little lashes.

Your song comes on and you start to shake your ass. Lost in the trance of the song, you become one with the pole, climbing it and gliding along it, twirling from it, and hovering with it, twerking and spreading your legs whenever you saw fit. The audience revels in it.

It all feels so good. Yes you are being provocative, everybody and your brother's worst nightmare -- but you're the one in control. No one can ever take your body autonomy away from you. Never again. Not anymore.

You do a death drop to the floor and quickly ease into your splits. The crowd goes wild as you roll your hips to the song, allowing yourself to get showered by the dollar bills that were raining down on you like a storm.

To thank everyone for their overwhelming support, you spin yourself around to face the crowd. But your heart nearly stops.

“Oh my god,” you gasp aloud.

Nothing could ever prepare you for what... or who rather... you see in front of you.

“Oh…my god,” Robin repeats, face sheet-white like a ghost.

Vicky is right beside her with the same shock on her face. Of course, your roommates have acknowledged this place before, so it wouldn't be a surprise that they eventually made this place their date night.

Your mind short-fuses and all you can do is crawl away backwards. Luckily, no one in the crowd seems to suspect how thrown off you just became. Your body quickly calls on another dancer as your mind races. And soon Emmy is taking your spot at the tip rail.

You look over at Eddie, who was in the corner leaning against the wall, but now he is standing upright and confused. Throwing on your cloak, you thank everyone for coming out and run out to the back alley.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," you mutter to yourself, as your heels click against the cold floor. Your cover is blown. What do you do now? "That's what you get for working local, Hargrove."

You find an area in the alley to rest and hit your dab pen ferociously. As you pace back and forth, you start to develop your exit plan. Nothing new, you develop these plans all the time.

Eventually Robin and Vicky find you. Clumsily spilling out the back door comes Thing 1 and Thing 2, assessing your body language and emotional well-being before finding the right words to say. It’s uncomfortable for everybody.

“Well this is quite the nursing home,” Robin remarks.

“Babe!”

“What?!” Robin exclaims. “I’m trying to lighten the mood.”

“Yeah but that can kinda come off as witty and sarcastic.”

“Well I don’t mean for it to.”

“Just because you don’t mean for it to, doesn’t mean it won’t come across that way.”

“Well knowing Hargrove I would hope she knows it’s not meant to come across that way.”

“GUYS!” your overstimulated self shouts.

All is quiet on midwestern front. Vicky and Robin switch between looking at you and back down at the ground while you resume your stress-filled nic break.

Finally, you speak after exhaling.

“So how’s everyone’s niiight?”

Robin gets straight to the point. “Why didn’t you tell us you work here?”

“I was protecting Max.”

“From what?” Robin wonders. “Ass and boobies? Extensions and falsies and freakishly high, high heels?”

“Doesn’t sound like nightmare fuel to us,” Vicky shrugs.

“It is when you consider the women Billy’s brought home.”

“What does Billy have to do with any of this?” asks Vicky.

“A lot, actually,” you answer.

You shove your pen back into your cloak pocket.

“Look,” you say. “I really needed the money. And I needed it fast. With my server and dancing background, I figured being a stripper was the best way to make it. And I was right. It’s quick money, but it’s sure as hell not easy. It’s draining for the most part, but—”

You stomp at the ground in frustration.

“My sister is fed and she can go to the Y and go to school and she’s away from Billy anditsallthatI’veeverwantedokay? That’s why I did it.”

“Okay, but I don’t see the point in coming up with this elaborate story that you work nights at a nursing home,” Vicky squints in thought. “Come on Hargrove, we are the least judgmental house in the boonies. I mean look at us.”

“Art Hoe Lesbians in a red state,” Robin points out. “I’m sure exotic dancer is a very mild offense.”

They did have a point. And it's not like Max is the type to slut-shame either. But you wanted Max to live as normal of a life as possible. Having a stripper sister also didn’t seem like the best conversation starter in Hawkins.

"I guess I'm just used to living a lie," you admit exhaustedly. "And running away... I also know Max would be worried sick for me."

"You only live lies if you tell 'em," Robin points out. "But as long as you're here with us, you're free to be your true and authentic self."

"Your job right now is to provide," Vicky adds. "And you're doing a wonderful job."

You beam. "Yeah?"

They both nod, yes. Sometimes you forgot what a support system is like. It always used to be everyone for themselves.

"Thanks guys."

"You're welcome," Vicky grins. "For now we'll keep our lips locked. We did not see anything."

"But you are going to have to tell Max eventually," Robin scorns.

"I know," you sigh. "I appreciate the stall."

The three of you hug. That's another thing you've been needing these past few weeks. A warm, authentic hug.

"Nice ass by the way," Robin compliments you.

"And tits," Vicky adds.

"Thanks."

———- ❤️ ———-

“I’ll kindly take you up on that Eddie Special, please,” you mumble.

Eddie had last-called everyone 15 minutes ago, but deep down you hope he had enough room in his heart for you. It’s been a dumpster fire of a shift.

Sure enough Eddie caves, judging by the way he starts up the fryer again after having shut it down right before you got to him.

He grins warmly. “Coming right up.”

As the fryer starts to bubble, Eddie loads in the last of the crinkle cuts. He waits close by with crossed arms.

Eddie’s first to break the silence.

“You seemed to know those customers,” he comments, referring to Vicky and Robin. “Judging by how fast you ran from them. In pumps too.”

“They’re my roommates,” you reply. “My best friend and her partner. They didn’t know I work here.”

He raises the eyebrow at ‘best friend’. “Even they didn’t know you work here?”

“I don’t know what they’d do with this information,” you utter defensively. “I guess it’s just hard for me to trust people.”

“Is it really, Miss Flight Risk?”

He’s referring to moving in with a girl you met online. You shoot him a look. The “I-didn’t-really-have-any-other-choice” look. He quickly digresses.

“I’m kidding,” he surrenders. “Okay? I understand that there are some things you gotta keep secret.” Eddie wriggles the basket full of fries around in the fryer. “…Even from your loved ones.”

Something tells you he speaks from experience. You shrug it off, ensuring he’d elaborate if he wanted to eventually.

Meanwhile you just decide to hit him with some small talk.

"How’s Chef Lucas been doing back here?"

"Fine and dandy," Eddie breathes. "For the most part. He burnt some things a couple of days ago, but that's part of being an apprentice, right?"

"Totally,” you nod. “Mistakes are bound to happen."

"Ohhh yeah," Eddie mutters, almost to himself. "Lots and lots…of mistakes."

"Trial and error, if you will,” you pitch in.

"Yup,” he draws on. “Seeing what works and what doesn’t. Testing the waters..."

Your eyes meet again. Briefly at least.

Eddie struggles to hold his gaze and instead resorts to clumsily playing around with a cloth nearby while whistling a tune. You can feel it getting awkward again so you find a way to keep the conversation going.

“Thank you for being there,” you attempt. “And helping out with my sister’s membership. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” Eddie insists. His back is towards you so you can't read his expression. “You’ve been working very hard.”

“That’s why you don’t have to,” you say as-a-matter-of-factly. “It’s already paid off.”

Eddie chuckles. “Okay, then use it to buy yourself something nice. You deserve it.”

A hoot sounds from the opposite end of the hall. It’s Henry making his way over with some keys.

“Alright Babyboy, I’m out,” he announces. “I can lock up if you’d like? Not like I have anything to do.”

“I can take it from here,” Eddie insists. “Sweet dreams, Mr. Creel.”

Henry makes his way over, narrowing his eyes.

“Thought you normally go see Wayne after this.”

“I do,” Eddie replies. “But he had company earlier and I’m sure he already put himself to bed by now. I’ll stop by for breakfast.”

Henry’s eyes shift between you and Eddie. There’s a small smirk but he tries to conceal it. You’re staying late again, huh?

“Your words not mine,” Henry says. “Goodnight you two.”

You both bid Henry goodbye and he sees himself out. Eddie proceeds his periodic check-ins with your taters.

"You've uh, been appointing Henry a lot," you point out.

"Hell yeah, like clockwork," Eddie shrugs. "This industry is predator central. Just hate when dickheads think they can disrespect my girls. I don’t play that way.”

My girls.

“Not his first time doing shit like that,” Eddie adds, referring to the customer. “I regret giving him another chance. I should just get Henry or Jim to print a picture of his face and plaster it all over the walls. DON'T LET THIS ASSHOLE IN.”

You laugh. Eddie laughs at your laugh and then goes to melt the cheese for your dish.

“Yeah,” you say. “You give a man another chance and all he does disappoint you.”

Eddie sighs and nods timidly. “Yeah… Men ain’t shit huh?”

It falls silent for a bit. Eddie slowly stirs the melted cheese concoction he had going on in his pot while eyeing the time. You fiddle around with your cloak out of habit. Eddie speaks first again.

“You know what Shy Girl, I’m gonna do it,” he says. “Gonna broadcast his face and I’ll have you sign off on it.”

“Really?” you say.

“Of course,” Eddie shrugs. “You know how I am. I don’t play when it comes to you.”

The rasp in his voice sounds like melted butter. For a fraction of a second, you start to wonder what you were even mad about earlier.

You really missed talking and bantering with Eddie. Aside from whatever the hell was going on between you both, his companionship was not something you felt was fake.

Eddie begins mixing some sauces, and when he's done he hands you what you assume is your tips that you forgot to collect. You know, when you bolted off the stage.

"Already tipped everyone else out," he explains. "Rest is yours to keep."

You thank him and count all your bills. Now you have $600 of reallocated YMCA money and tips from tonight to pay off your bills and splurge.

You haven't had this much money since your waitressing job. You are forever grateful.

“Is there...anything I owe you Eddie?” you question. “Like at all? You’ve done a lot for me lately.”

“Ehhh you’re in the clear, I guess,” Eddie sheepishly smirks. “Lucky for you I’m a sucker for flattery.”

The fries are now cooked to a golden crisp and Eddie adds the components needed for The Eddie Special. He spends a decent amount of time to perfect the presentation before sitting down in front of you. In true Eddie fashion, he takes a bite of his own creation.

"HOT," he comments, trying to blow on the fry that's already in his mouth. "Hot, hot, hot. Fresh out the fryer."

Judging by his face, however, he approves. You can’t help but giggle over and over again. He gestures for you to try some.

It’s love at first bite.

"Mhm," you coo. "Thank you, Eddie."

"You're welcome," Eddie says. He grabs a washcloth to clean up the area. “Now… when you’re finished, how about I treat you to a real dinner?”

-------

author’s note: school has been taking over my life but i’m so glad i got to crank out this chapter for you guys 🖤 i’m excited to see how y’all are gonna react to shy girl’s orientation dinner…. 👀

tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @holabeans00

#Spotify #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #joe quinn #stranger things 5 #Eddie #Eddie x reader #reader x Eddie #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #hellfire club

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topguncortez · 2 years

Text

What to Expect | Chapter 2

previous part | Masterlist | next part

synopsis: you get confirmation on the results of your at home test. Bradley's animosity towards Jake rolls over into a locker room brawl.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, cursing, smut, mentions of infidelity, fighting, blood, Jake having a dick measuring contest with Bradley

The first time you had ever remember meeting Bradley Bradshaw, you were four years old. His mother had brought him out to North Island for a visit to his Uncle Maverick and your father. He was a bit older than you, closer to your only brother Dylan’s age than yours. Carole had brought Bradley by the house to have a nice afternoon with your mother Sarah and Maverick’s then girlfriend, Penny Benjamin.

You, your siblings and Bradley were playing out in the backyard, everything was fine until Gia decided to play a game of tag, except you were “it” the whole time, no matter who you tagged. And at four years old, it was hard to keep up with the older kids. You eventually got so frustrated, you sat down in the middle of the back yard and cried. Gia called you a cry baby, and Stephanie pushed her. Dylan threw his arms up in annoyance and went to go get a snack inside. The only one who seemed to care about you, was Bradley. He walked up to you, and held his hand out, helping you up off the ground. Bradley never treated you like Gia’s little sister, he always treated you like a friend. Which was probably why the two of you became such close friends later in life.

But in the span of your two decade long friendship, Bradley never thought he would be sitting next to you in the lobby of the OB/GYN’s office. He looked around nervously, his leg bouncing up and down rapidly. When you told him that you needed him to come with you for something, he was thinking it was another trip to Home Depot or Target. Sitting in a doctor’s office full of pregnant women was not on his bingo card.

“Why are we here again?” Bradley asked, whispering to you.

Your eyes never left the questionnaire you were filling out. Some of the questions made your brain swim trying to figure out how to answer them, “Just a check up,” You said looking at him briefly.

“And you can’t just go to the-”

“Just shut up, okay,” You snapped and Bradley held his hands up in defense. There was a beat of silence before you sighed and sat back in your chair, “I took a pregnancy test the other night and it came back positive.”

“Oh shit,” Bradley said, adjusting in his chair to sit up a bit straighter. He looked around the office, seeing if there were any prying eyes, before leaning in and asking, “You think its accurate? You think you’re. . .” He gestured vaguely to your stomach. You nodded and Bradley let out a sigh, “Oh wow, I didn’t think you were seeing some-”

“I’m not,” You answered shortly, “It’s complicated and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t give me an interrogation. I’m already expecting one from my parents when I tell them their only unmarried child is giving them their first grandchild.”

“Y/N?” A nurse called out, and you gave her a tight lipped smile, standing up from the chair, “Is your partner coming with you?” You looked over your shoulder at Bradley who was looking at you.

“It’s up to you, Bug,” Bradley said, using the nickname that your father had given you. You let out a shaky breath and nodded for him. He stood up from his chair, his body still clad in his flight suit and followed down the hall next to you.

You had been in a gynecologist exam room before. You always found them cold and uninviting. And now, more than ever you wished you could be anywhere in the world, but in this exam room. The nurse took your vitals and explained what they were going to do at this exam. She instructed you to go take a urine sample, and then they were going to take some blood to run more tests. Bradley held your hand as you winced when the nurse took your blood, and you kicked him for making a comment about how will you handle childbirth if you couldn’t handle a needle prick.

“Alright, Doctor Miller will be in soon with results,” The nurse said and you nodded, “I recommend you start drinking some water for the ultrasound.”

You shivered as the nurse left, sending you a smile and shutting the door behind her. Bradley handed you your water bottle from your purse, a shy smile on his features.

“If you have to go back to work, you can leave,” You said, sipping your water, “I bet there’s more important things you’d rather be doing than sitting here.”

“Not really,” Bradley said, sighing and putting his hands behind his head, “It’s just day one, and Bagman can handle it, it’s the least he can fucking do.” You scowled at the mention of your ex-boyfriend and Bradley laughed, “He came to the Hard Deck the other night. Showed up in his uniform like he’s something special. God, I can’t stand him.”

“You two are team leaders now, you need to get along, no matter how you feel about him,” You said and looked down at your lap. Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. He knew you long enough to be able to know all the tells of your body language. He could tell when you were angry, or upset, or overwhelmed.

“You’re hiding something,” Bradley said, leaning his elbows onto his knees, “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” You said quickly. Bradley opened his mouth to argue when a woman with light brown hair wearing pink scrubs walked in. She smiled at Bradley and walked to you, hand extending in greeting.

“I’m Doctor Miller, I’m your obstetrician,” She introduced herself, “And you must be Y/N.”

“I am,” You nodded.

“Well, Y/N,” Doctor Miller took a seat on a stool across the room from you, “As you suspected, the urine and blood tests came back showing elevated hCG, which means, you are in fact, pregnant.”

“Oh my god,” You said, covering your mouth with your hand.

“The ultrasound will confirm how far along you are, and we can estimate your due date from that,” Doctor Miller announced, “I’m going to have you lay back, pull your shirt up below your breasts and pull your skirt down just below your naval please.”

You nodded and did what she said. Bradley shifted in his spot, his brown eyes going from your bare skin to the ultrasound machine.

“Alright, this gel is going to be cold,” Doctor Miller said, squirting the cold gel on your belly. You lurched a bit in your spot, and looked at Bradley.

He could feel the waves of nervousness rolling off of you, and stood up from his chair, stepping closer to you laying on the exam table. He gave you a reassuring smile, before looking back at the black and white screen as Doctor Miller moved the transducer over your abdomen. Doctor Miller looked over her shoulder briefly, seeing Bradley and you standing close and smiled softly to herself.

“Here,” She said, pushing down on your abdomen. Your eyes widened seeing the small blip on the screen. Doctor Miller’s glove hand pointed to it, “You are measuring at about seven weeks in gestation.” She clicked some buttons, taking a screenshot of the screen.

“Wow,” You said, your eyes wide in shock.

“Your estimated due date is around July 15th,” Doctor Miller said, and put the transducer down, and then grabbed a bunch of paper towels, “For now, I need to see you every four weeks, until about week twenty-six, so roughly around February.”

“They’ll have the same birthday,” Bradley said and you shot him a glare. He gave you a knowing look and you let out a shaky breath.

“These are for you,” Doctor Miller said, handing you copies of the ultrasound, “I’m also going to send you home with this packet.” She handed you a thick two pocket folder. You opened it and started looking over the various flyers and pamphlets that were inside, “There’s a lot of information in there about pregnancy, it breaks it down week by week on development, some recommendations for products to use for prenatal development, as well as go over the options that you have.”

“Options?” You asked, looking up at her.

She nodded, “Yes, you have options.”

You blinked and shook your head, “Y-Yeah, I know, it’s just weird to hear someone say that to me. I-I guess I’m still a bit in shock about all. . . this,” You gestured to your stomach. Bradley put his hand on your shoulder.

“It’ll be okay,” He said. You looked up at him, and he smiled, “Where do we make the appointment?”

“At the front desk,” Doctor Miller said, “Oh, and here’s a prescription for a good prenatal vitamin,” She scribbled some writing down on a note and then handed it to you, “If you have any questions, either one of you,” She looked between you and Bradley, “Do not hesitate to call.”

“Thank you,” You said, hopping off the table. Doctor Miller nodded as Bradley opened the door to the exam room, and gently guided you out of the room. You scheduled your next appointment, and watched as Bradley put the date in his phone. The two of you walked out to the parking lot, your jeep parked next to his bronco. You suddenly wondered if the jeep was even a good car to drive a baby around in. Living in California, you almost always had the sides and top off of it, loving the way the sun hit as you drove down the road.

“Hey,” Bradley said, putting his hand on your back, “You going back to school?”

“No,” You shook your head, “I took the day off. I wasn’t sure if I could go back to teaching eight year olds simple multiplication after learning. . . what I learned.”

Bradley chuckled and leaned against the door of his Bronco, “You going to tell him?”

“How do you know it’s his?”

“Y/N. . . Bug. . . I’ve known you since you were three, you can’t hide things from me.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, “I don’t think I can.”

“Y/N,” Bradley said, standing up straight, “I don’t agree with what he did, and I am one hundred percent on your side but, you can’t keep a man from his child.”

“I know!” You groaned, “I just. . . I can’t face him. He makes me so fucking mad, Bradley. I look at him, a-and my chest gets tight and I feel small and want to hide. It’s like everything Gia ever said in my ear about not being enough and not being able to keep him satisfied all comes true.” You shook your head as you felt tears well up in your eyes. Bradley pushed off his bronco and pulled you into his strong arms.

“Shh,” Bradley said as you cried, running his hand up and down your back, “It’ll all work out, okay. If you want me to be, I’ll be there when you tell him. And you know Alyssa will be there too.”

“She’s already claimed the godmother spot,” You chuckled and felt the rumble of laughter in Bradley’s chest. You pulled back from him and wiped your tears, “Thank you for coming with me. I know that 9-1-1 message at two in the morning was probably terrifying.”

“Oh you had me on the verge of shitting myself all day,” Bradley said and you scrunch your nose, “It’ll all work out, Bug. I promise. And whatever you decide, I will be by your side.”

“I love you, Buckles,” You said, using the nickname you gave him when you were younger. You couldn’t pronounce Bradley until you were about six, so you named him ‘Buckles’ and it stuck, “Now, get back to work.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bradley said, giving you a mock salute. You giggled as you opened your driver's door and got in. Bradley waited until you pulled out of the parking lot to get into his bronco. He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. This was not at all how he thought his morning was going to go. Bradley reached into the chest pocket of his flight suit and pulled out the ultrasound picture, and smiled down at it.

— — —

Jake was nervous. The morning had gone well, it was his first morning as a TopGun instructor. He explained the history of the program, the risk and rewards that come with it. He smiled as he saw his name on the plaque for the best pilot from his class. Jake was getting ready to go head to the sky when Admiral Kazansky called his name in the hallway.

It was as if cement was poured down Jake’s back as he walked down the hall towards his office. In all the years Jake had been a pilot, he had never been called into the Admiral’s office. Being called into the Admiral's office was like being called to the principal. You didn’t want to be there, nothing good ever came from being called or sent to their office.

Jake’s green eyes looked at the various pictures and awards the Iceman had hanging up. The most noticeable was one that Jake was all too familiar with. He had seen the exact same copy on your bedside table just weeks ago. Jake felt himself relax a bit, but it was only for a second, then the door opened. He quickly stood up from his seat, standing at attention as Ice walked in.

“At ease, kid,” Iceman said, walking to his desk. Jake sighed, and stood at parade rest, until Ice sat down. Even though Jake was once on a first name basis with the man in front of him, he still treated him with the utmost respect, “Take a seat.”

“Sir,” Jake greeted and sat down in the leather chair across from him.

“I didn’t get a chance to meet with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw this morning, but I wanted to see where you think we stand with this class,” Iceman said, pulling up the newest class of recruits onto the projector. Jake closed his eyes for a second and let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, Jake thought that Ice was going to fire him after day one, or worse, tell him that he knew he was in his daughter’s bedroom the other night. But Jake relaxed in his chair, and gave Ice the run down of the class.

“I think we have a very eager group,” Jake said, after explaining a bit about each of the pilots.

Ice looked from the screen to Jake and nodded, “Well, I expect them to be better than the best. You and Rooster have a lot to prove. You two have a lot of work on your plates. It’s the first time that TopGun instructors are also members of an active squadron at the same time. I hope there are no distractions.”

“None sir,” Jake said.

“Good,” Ice said, and sat back in his chair, “I know things ended between you and Y/N,” Jake closed his eyes and let out a sigh, “But, if you need help with anything, my door is always open. You have my number, you are free to stop by the house if you need to.”

Jake stood up from his chair, “Thank you, sir, I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Ice said, “I see you as a son. If you’re with my daughter or not. You’re dismissed.”

Jake nodded and left the office as quickly as he could. He didn’t even notice, but he had started sweating as he sat there under Ice’s cold stare.

When he first met you, he had no idea who your father was. In fact, you kept it a secret for nearly the first three months of being together. Your father was famous when it came to Jake’s world. So the moment you said that you were a Kazansky, Jake felt like he had been hit by a train. He thought you were messing with him at first, but you pulled out your driver's license and Jake nearly passed out. The first time he had met your father, Jake was sweating bullets the whole time. He almost showed up at your front door in his dress uniform, because whatever was in his closet wasn’t good enough to meet Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky. But, Ice made a comment about Texas Football, and Jake fell into an instant conversation with the Admiral.

He was worried that post break-up things would be awkward or tense, but Jake was surprised to find that it wasn’t. It was also probably because Ice ran a tight ship around here. He wasn’t one to bring in outside problems into the workplace. Ice hadn’t once brought up the break-up until today, and Jake was even surprised that he had mentioned something.

Jake smiled to himself as he walked down the hallway towards the locker room to get dressed for his flight. He was whistling some tune when he walked in, seeing Bradley lost in thought while looking at some photograph.

“Where ya been Bradshaw!” Jake said loudly, causing the pilot to startle and drop the picture. Bradley scrambled to get the picture as it soared down under Jake’s boot. He bent down to grab it. He was going to give it back, but then he saw the disheveled look of his wingman, “What’s going on?”

“Give it back,” Bradley said, reaching for the picture, but Jake took a step away from him.

“Oh shit. . .” Jake smirked, “Is this what I think it is,” He wiggled the picture in his fingers, “Were you about to whack-”

“Give me the picture, Bagman,” Bradley said, stepping over the bench and reaching for it. Jake took another step back.

“Nah, I wanna see what got Rooster Bradshaw so flustered that he has to. . . wait,” Jake said, looking at the picture. He was expecting to see some scantily dressed woman or even a man on the front of it, but he was met with the sight of black and white sonogram. Jake had two older sisters who had kids, and he knew exactly what this was. Bradley held his breath as Jake’s green eyes looked over the information on the side of it.

“Is this a joke?” Jake asked, looking up at Bradley. Bradley looked down at his boots and scratched the back of his neck, “I can’t fucking believer her. We’ve been broken up for less than-”

“Wait a damn minute,” Bradley said, lifting his head, “You think she was sneaking around?”

“Well,” Jake shrugged, “What do you expect me to think!?”

Bradley chuckled humorlessly, “She’s not you, Bagman. She’d never even think to cheat on you or to do something behind your back. She was so loyal to you, and still is. Can’t say the same about you.”

“So. . . it’s mine,” Jake said, looking back at the sonogram, and Bradley nodded, “Fuck,” Jake groaned running a hand down his face and sat on the bench. His stomach felt like it was in his chest, and the longer he looked at the sonogram, the sicker he felt. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He thought all the years that he was with you about having kids. About one day being able to start a family, and have three or four little ones who looked just like you, running to him as he came home from deployments or missions. But he kissed that dream goodbye the second he walked out the door.

“This is all wrong,” Jake mumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Bradley said, leaning against the lockers, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Does Ice know?” Jake looked at his wingman.

“Not yet,” Bradley sighed, “She found out for sure this morning. I went with her. She’s due on your birthday.” Bradley saw the corners of Jake’s mouth tick up at that, “She doesn’t want you knowing.”

“Why?”

“Why the fuck do you think? You cheated on her and left her.”

Jake sighed and shook his head, “I didn’t cheat on her.”

“What?” Bradley asked, “What the fuck do you mean you didn’t cheat on her?”

“I lied,” Jake gulped and looked straight ahead, “I couldn’t just. . . break up with her, so I came up with a lie to help me. I never cheated on her.”

Bradley saw red, as he grabbed the pilot by the collar and slammed him up against the lockers. Jake grunted as his back hit the metal and pushed Bradley’s arms off of him. Bradley was only off of Jake for a split second, before he charged forward, wrapping his arms around the blonde man and tackling him to the floor.

“Fucking get off of me!” Jake yelled, trying to fight against him. Bradley had about three inches and fifty pounds on Jake.

“You fucking lied to her!” Bradley yelled, straddling the blonde’s waist, and delivering a punch to his jaw,“For weeks she didn’t leave my fucking couch cause she thought you cheating was her fucking fault!”

“It’s none of your fucking business!” Jake yelled, and pushed Bradley off of him. Jake managed to knock Bradley onto his back. He reeled his arm back and punched Bradley in the nose.

“Fuck it is!” Bradley spat, trying to regain the upper hand.

“Whoa!” Fanboy said, seeing the two pilots wrestling on the ground.

“Yo! Break it up!” Payback yelled, pushing through the door to get to Bradley and Jake. Fanboy wrapped his arms around Jake’s torso as he pulled the blonde pilot away. Bob and Coyote had come running in when they heard the commotion, and got their way in between the two pilots.

“The hell is going on?!” Maverick yelled, walking into the locker room. He took in the sight of the two bloodied pilots and the group of aviators in between them, “Well? Explain, or you are all grounded.”

“Jake’s a fucking liar and a cheat!” Bradley yelled, pointing at him.

“And Bradley needs to mind his damn business!” Jake yelled back, lunging forward, but Coyote pushed him back.

“That’s enough!” Maverick said, “Whatever personal stuff between you two ends here. Today. If you can’t handle it, then it’ll go to Ice.” Bradley clenched his jaw and pushed Payback and Bob’s hands off of him, “Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Bradley and Jake said at the same time.

“Good,” Maverick nodded, “Be ready to take the air in twenty.” Maverick left the locker room and headed back to his office.

The other male aviators slowly released Bradley and Jake, but still kept a watchful eye on them in case chaos were to ensue again. Coyote asked Jake if he was alright and the blonde nodded, turning back to his locker. Bob noticed that during the scuffle, a picture had fallen from Jake’s grasp. The WSO gently picked it up, his eyes widening a bit at the sight of the sonogram. He looked between the two pilots, the tension in the locker room thick and awkward, before turning to hand the sonogram to Bradley.

“This fell,” Bob said softly, tapping Rooster on the shoulder. He turned around and looked at the sonogram in Bob’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks,” Rooster said, taking the picture. Bob gave him a tight lipped smile before going to his own locker and getting his gear. Jake saw the interaction and it made his blood boil even more. He grabbed his gear and slammed his locker shut, and made his way towards the door.

“Oh, Bradshaw,” Jake said, stopping and turning around to face the mustached pilot. Bradley looked at Jake, his eyes narrowed on him. Jake smirked and grabbed a tooth pick from inside his flight suit,

“You’ll never be that kid’s father, no matter how hard you try and act like it.” Jake popped the toothpick in his mouth and left the locker room.

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