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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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Series summary: Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

ch 2: A SCREAM AND A SLICE

ch 3: THE ROCKSTAR AND THE RED LIGHTS

ch 4: FAMILY VALUES

series trigger warnings: blood, character death, murder, smut, p in v, drinking & smoking pot, themes of misuse of prescription pills, character killer, stranger things canon events, light mentions of domestic abuse, neglect, etc.

BUY TICKETS

PROMO FLYER

part 1 summary: a movie night with friends ends with a very scared Nancy and you and your best friend getting high in your room, when the lights flicker across town— you + Eddie brush it off as nothing— because Hawkins Indiana has always been a little strange.

FLICKER

The popcorn bowl in your lap is nearly empty, only brown kernels left to shift noisily as Eddie’s hand scrapes around the bowl in chase of one last piece of the buttery snack.

Your eyes are glued to the screen, breath hitched in your throat as you watch Michael Myers stalk down the street. Even though you’ve seen it a dozen times, it still gets to you. Something about the rubbery, expressionless mask he dons as he chases and slashes through people's skin just rubs you the wrong way.

“Ohhh fuck!” Eddie gleams, Michael’s knife cutting through Annie’s throat, “did ya see that?!”

“Trying not to,” Nancy muffles, her face buried into the broad shoulder of Steve, small hand clasped around her eyes, Steve’s arms pulling her closer into him.

Movie nights in the Wheeler basement were a typical Friday for your group of friends. Something that you weren’t sure would continue to happen after you, Eddie and Steve graduated this past May. Being waitlisted for your dream school put your endeavors on hold and neither one of them had any grand plans of leaving Hawkins, especially since Steve and Nancy had rekindled their on-again-off-again relationship.

Currently they were on again, and dipping into near pornography whenever they thought no one was watching or listening.

“I gotcha,” Steve purred into Nancy’s mouse brown hair, rubbing her back, “c’mon Munson, turn this shit off.”

“No!” You and Eddie both say at once.

He smirks at you. The same dimpled closed mouth grin he had given you since you were thirteen years old. He clears his throat, “It’s almost over anyway.”

Eddie’s love for movies and music came at a young age. Anything to keep his mind busy while his parent’s fought. Anything to keep the noise of the screen door slapping shut as his mom fled their trailer again, his dad hot on her heels and swinging a fist through the dark night trying to make contact. Anything to drown out the noise and squeal of her tires kicking up rocks and dead grass against the aluminum trailer as she sped away, this time for the last time— without him.

He was your friend before his mom had left and any of that had started, and he had spent more nights sleeping on your couch than he had his own bed. You were comfortable with Eddie in ways that girls shouldn’t be with their best friends who were boys. But you could care less. It was always, and forever would be, platonic between you and Eddie Munson.

Reaching over the laps of both Eddie and Steve, you tug Nancy’s shirt until she peeks over Steve’s collar. You mouth bathroom? And she nods, getting up and following you, trying not to trip over a very drunk Robin or passed out Johnathan.

The light in the bathroom does absolutely nothing for Nancy’s complexion, playing on the peaked look of her skin and illuminating dark circles under her eyes that you normally had not seen. She sits on the sink and holds her arms against her chest as you finish up, washing your hands next to her.

“How can you guys watch that stuff?” She half whispers and sniffs, rubbing a petite hand under her red nose.

Drying your hands, you shrug, hanging the towel back up on the hook, looking back at your reflection and fixing your smudged eyeliner, “it’s just a movie Nance,” you say to her through the mirror, “besides, the possibility of something like that happening in Hawkins, are pretty damn slim.”

She shakes her head of ill thoughts, “yeah, o-‘f course, I just,” a chill runs through her, tickling her spine and making her skin goosebump, “the thought of it is… scary.”

“I think that’s the whole point.”

Opening the door, Steve audibly gasps at the next jump scare, and Eddie claps along hooting and hollering as Michael’s next victim joins the dead.

“I hate Halloween,”she mutters to herself, hopping down from the sink following you out to your friends.

Nancy spent the remainder of the movie with a lamp on, reading over her English paper for Mrs. Click’s class that was due in a few weeks, huffing in disapproval at either the movie or her paper you weren’t sure.

Robin wedges her way onto the couch with the four of you, whisper yelling about how stupid the characters are and how none of it makes any sense.

“You’re ruining it Buckley, shh!” Eddie says, placing a ringed hand over her mouth. And you can’t help but laugh at them both.

Robin licked the flat of his palm, her signature move, and Eddie squealed in disgust, “fucks sake Robin.”

“Aww,” Robin says, squeezing his cheeks with her long chip painted fingers, “don’t be jealous Eddie-bear.. you probably won’t know this but that smell is puss— ow!”

Your elbow digs into her ribs, “shh!” you sneer,

The ending credits roll and Eddie’s on his feet, ejecting the tape and slotting it into the paper protector. “Who’s up for the second one?”

He groans when the entire room yells no. Pouting and shoving the tape into his backpack. “What about you Byers?” he asks, kicking Jonathan’s leg to bring him back to life.

“Huh?” he asks through a yawn, rubbing his shocking red eyes, “nah man I’m cool, need to get home, mom is working late and Will’s by himself.”

He tosses the pillow he was using into the arm chair and trudges up the steps, saying see ya laters and thanks as he leaves.

Eddie shoots you a wink and you stand reaching for the blankets you were cuddling with and fold them neatly onto the couch.

Robin stumbles up the stairs behind Jonathan, trying to score a ride so she doesn't have to walk the three blocks to her place completely drunk.

Steve pulls Nancy in his lap. She’s whispering to him with tears brimming her bright blue eyes, but you can’t hear what she’s saying.

“Yeah, c’mon” he whispers against her hairline, holding her up so they can both stand, “still have your toothbrush at mine… hey, we’re going to my place,” he announces to you and Eddie, just turn the lights off and we’ll see you tomorrow for opening day right?”

The Annual Hawkins Halloween Carnival was in town, and after two years of working the county fair in Roane County, you had all been asked to work at the carnival this fall.

The carnival schedule was the weekend before Halloween to the weekend of Halloween.

Seven days of thrills and chills. Pumpkin carving, face painting, a corn maze that seemed to go for miles, the best food in the Midwest, and finally the usual carnival rides with a sick twist of Halloween themed frights.

Orientation was last week Saturday and Sunday a grueling 7am-7pm both days. Mr. Creel went over expectations and rules for you as staff to follow.

It seemed easy enough. You and Eddie were put on rides just like you had been all summer. Nancy and Argyle were in charge of games, Tina and one of her cheerleader friends were doing the pumpkin carving.

Steve and Robin would be set up in a small booth sponsored by Scoops Ahoy from morning until 5 pm, later taking over on rides for Eddie while he and Corroded Coffin made their debut on stage at night.

Steve was still pissed that they were insistent on him wearing the blue sailor uniform, even though the mall burned down last July— they managed to have Mrs. Sinclair sew the outfit for him.

Jonathan would help Argyle and Nancy with the nickel and dime games, ones designed to have parents shell out pockets of change to have their kids possibly win a stuffed animal that wasn’t even worth an entire dollar.

Billy Hargrove— who you were certain fled town after the mall fire, was apparently still in Hawkins and now in charge of the haunted hay ride at night and the corn maze during the day.

Him and Eddie used to be close during his senior year, but it all fell apart and you weren’t really sure why. When you asked, Eddie would shrug it off, claiming he had changed after graduation, and that was that.

You were surprised that the staff was minimal even though the festival was bigger and had more events going on than the summer carnival did, but you didn’t want to jinx your chances of working for it next year. Rumor was, Creel paid double for the Halloween event, Eddie called it the chance of a lifetime, and you knew it’d be stupid to mess it up by asking questions.

“Thanks for letting me stay again,” Eddie mumbles after you toss him the sleeping bag from your closet, “didn’t know he’d be home tonight.”

After you had drove home from Nancy’s you had barely gotten into your room when your phone rang, it was Eddie and he was at the payphone outside of Benny’s.

It’s me, can I stay over?

you didn’t think twice, telling Eddie yes and hanging up the phone.

His dad had been released from county two weeks ago after Eddie finally scraped enough bail money together to get him out. He swore this was the last time he’d do it but you knew better than that.

Eddie was a lot of things but he wouldn’t let his dad rot in some cell. Even though he deserved every single second of being there.

Al Munson had been in and out of jail since you could remember, petty crimes this and grand theft auto that. He was hardly a stable male figure for Eddie.

But to the doe eyed boy with brown curly hair— Al hung the moon.

It nearly killed Wayne Munson to see Eddie stick up for his old man, but he still offered his home to Al whenever he came through town on his next stunt, bleeding Eddie’s pockets dry and taking every emotional spark left in him when he tore out of the driveway, just before the blue and red lights could follow.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrug tossing him one of your pillows, “you know you’re more than welcome here, anytime.”

Even though your parents hated the idea, you moved into the old apartments across town the week after graduation. Full of naive wonder and wanting some privacy you worked all the hours you could between Meldvald’s and Bradley’s Big Buy, earning just enough to have a couple hundred dollars left to go into savings after rent.

The faucets leaked, the paint was chipping and probably poisonous, the front door didn’t even lock properly, but you could care less: it was freedom.

Eddie grabs the hem of his shirt and drags it over his head, revealing his tattooed chest and silver bar nipples, wincing when his shirt grazes the new piercing. His curls tickling his shoulders.

“I know,” he grunts, unclasping his belt and chain from his jeans, tossing them to the floor beside his makeshift bed, “I just worry one day you’ll get sick of pitying the Munson charity case all the time.”

He scoffs when you throw a pillow at him, “what I’m serious!”

“Knock it off, Bam Bam, you’re my best friend, I’m never getting sick of you.”

“oh Christ, listen—” he began, shaking his head in disgust and holding up a ringed hand to stop you, “this game only goes one way, babe, and that’s me calling you the same name I have since we were six.”

You roll your eyes, a sudden heat to your cheeks that lately was becoming more and more prevalent each time Eddie used your nickname or an endearing name someone would use for a girlfriend.

But that was just how Eddie was, he even called Ms. O’Donnell “honey” once to ace a test but all he got was a big fat ‘F’ and a week’s worth of detentions.

Eddie reaches into his pocket for the plastic film, “besides, you only keep me around because you can smoke for free,” he says, presenting the pre-rolled joints and his trusty zippo.

“Ooh, and he brings gifts? you shouldn’t have,” you mock in a terrible accent, fanning yourself with your hand as if you were a true southern bell, “it's not even my birthday, mister.”

Eddie gets into the bit, sitting cross legged on your bed and dumping the contents of the bag onto your comforter, the skin of your knees touching, “well it’s not every day a lonely feller like me comes across a lady lookin’ as fine as you.”

Giggling he licks the end of the paper to seal it tight and you lick your own lips in greedy anticipation. You loved movie nights with all your friends, but there was always something special about being alone with Eddie.

It was calming, but maybe it was just having him around that made the stress of bills and everything else just fade away. He had that special way about him.

Holding the joint and lighter up for you his eyes locked with yours, and you swore his cheeks went pink, “ladies first, princess.”

—-

Across town, Steve was spending the evening with his lips on Nancy’s neck, huffing when she gasps when the bed creaks from his movement.

“Sorry— I’m still a little freaked out.”

Steve brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, “there’s nothing to worry about honey— I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You know that right?”

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “I-I know that, I’m— it’s just this time of year that always gives me the creeps.”

Nancy Wheeler had gained minor popularity when she struck the fancy of the king of Hawkins High. She wasn’t used to it, finding the glory of being Steve’s girlfriend suffocating.

“Well I’ve got somethin that isn’t creepy,” he coos into the shell of her ear, “in fact, you always seem to like it.”

“Steve..”

He shushes her with his lips, and like she always did, Nancy found herself giving in to him.

—

Fingers twirled between the bouncy rings of a telephone cord, Robin waited patiently— well as patiently as she could— for Vickie to pick up.

Their relationship was secretive, only her closest friends knew of Vickie and Vickie didn’t tell a single soul about the nights spent tangled in the corn powder blue sheets with the pretty freckled faced clarinet player.

They had a system. Vickie dealt the cards and made the rules, while Robin had a hand of jokers and mismatched suits, only she didn’t—couldn’t— see it for what it was.

The phone rang and rang, and would continue to ring. Hard to answer the phone when you’re too busy being pressed into the mattress with your feet on your boyfriend's shoulders.

—

“Yeah mom, I’m home now.” Jonathan answered annoyingly into the phone, “… W—No he’s asleep.. I’m sure he did… yeah, fine..I’ll go check.”

The phone would have stretched easily into the small bathroom down the hallway of the Byers’ home so he could check that Will had taken his nightly medication, but instead he let the phone slap against the floor in a clankety thud.

Jonathan Byers had been the man of the house since his dad left in seventh grade. He cooked, he did the laundry, and worked part time wherever he could. His mom was barely able to keep it together since Lonnie had left. And most days, she couldn’t. Somehow the last year she had gotten worse.

She was rail thin, and never ate a thing. Absent minded. Constantly writing things out and scribbling nonsense onto scraps of paper. Strewn across the living room, the kitchen, any surface available.

She was always worrying if Will would be okay, but never reciprocating that same kind of love and care to Jonathan.

Joyce Byers loved her boys equally, but the youngest was given more attention, maybe it was because he was her last baby, or possibly because his father had rarely ever acknowledged his existence. Still, the relationship between mother and son was broken off, string rolling in on itself when it came to Jonathan.

The pills in the slot marked ‘friday’ were gone, just like Jonathan knew they would be. His brother took his medications religiously, never ever skippinga day, he had it clocked down to the hour, minute, and second— the same time every single day.

A routine he had since last year.

Jonathan looks back at his gaunt expression when he shuts the medicine cabinet, smiling fake and toothy, taking the usual freebie from the hoard of pills his mother was prescribed but never took.

His lips under the faucet he swallows the white oval pill down.

Will wasn’t the only one with his own pill routine.

—

“Eddie, turn the lights off already it’s fuckin 2 am,”

Without fully waking you throw a pillow down to where he was laying, it wasn’t unusual for him to get high and pass out with the lights still on, but it was annoying beyond belief.

A muffled groan is heard from beneath the tossed pillow before Eddie wrestled it from his face, “the fuck are you throwing shit at me for?”

“you left the lights on again.”

Head on a swivel Eddie looks from you, to the ceiling to the switch, “open your eyes Helen Keller, they’re not on.”

the sting of light is still shining bright in your face and when you peel your eyes open you see that he wasn’t lying. Your room was dark, but the street lamp was glowing brighter than usual.

Your toes curl around the plush fibers of your rug and you pull the cord to open the blinds. Eddie’s weight shifts onto your mattress as a loud yawn escapes his lips, followed by a scratching noise that you’re hoping is his nails against his skull instead of his balls.

“what the fuck?”

The street lamps up and down your street were buzzing and glowing in an emberred haze. The glow of yellow was straining brighter than could be deemed possible and it was pulsing with an ominous flicker.

You were tantalized by it’s beauty, like a moth to a flame hypnotized by the menacing doom— you couldn’t look away, and for a split second the welcoming sunshine of the lamp turned blood red, a warning of terror before being blown to bits and shattering to the ground below.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie jumps behind your shoulder, “what the hell was that, you saw it right?”

You definitely had, it’s illuminating shadow still glowed bright when you blinked your eyes. You have heard of electric surges, currants going hot when wires were overloaded. But flickering like that then burning red before burning out? It was almost like a fallacy, something Eddie probably would have made up for Hellfire, it simply couldn’t have been true.

You rubbed at your eyes like a tired child, “told you that second joint smelled funny,” you said sitting on your knees facing him and shoving his shoulder, a look of shock on his face.

He scoffs and shoves your shoulder back, rolling his eyes playfully, “it’s a new strain Rick concocted himself, red…red somethin’…” he lays partly on the bed and stretches his body to the floor fumbling into his jeans pocket in search of the cellophane plastic of the baggy.

“Ah, here,” he says, shoving the bag into your hand, your thumb rubs over the black sharpie written in boy chicken scratch hand writing.

You read it the same time Eddie says it.

“Redrum.”

♡ hope you enjoyed, comment what you think will happen next; reblogs are appreciated

♡ part 2: A SLICE & A SCREAM ♡

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strawberryspence · 2 years

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They both have different stories when asked, “When did you first meet?”

Steve says it was in school, along the hallways with freshman Steve Harrington and sophomore Eddie Munson locking eyes for the first time. Eddie says it was in a party, drinking beer and selling drugs, a transaction.

Wayne Munson knows the truth. The truth that way before monsters, way before creatures from games came true, way before the end of the world, way before everything, that Eddie and Steve have already met.

Wayne remembers that day so clearly. A social worker coming to his work in the middle of the day looking for him. Something about Wayne being the closest relative, about his brother going to jail and his mother running away.

Eddie's been living alone for two weeks. Two weeks. Cooking and cleaning for himself, the only reason it got suspicious is because he didn't go to school and one of his teachers called home.

He watches as Eddie swings himself at the empty playground. He brought Eddie here because— where do you bring children? Playgrounds are perfect right? He doesn't have the slightest idea as to what he's doing.

Sometimes in the morning, Wayne doesn't even have clothes to wear because he forgot to do the laundry. It's the same reason he doesn't have a wife and children. If he can't take care of himself, how could he take care of a whole other human being?

Out of nowhere, there's a kid running to the playground. Stopping just in front of Eddie and introducing himself with a bright smile.

His nephew stares at the boy for a few seconds before answering, "Hi, I am Eddie."

Wayne listens to them chatter for a few more minutes, before the boy asks if Eddie wants to be pushed.

Eddie's still giving the other boy a look of disbelief, before he finally says yes.

The boy's guardian sits beside Wayne. She looks better off, with an expensive looking coat and purse. But there's a warm, comforting smile on her face.

She turns to Wayne, “Is that your son?”

Wayne turns to her, pursing his lips, “I— Yes— No— It’s complicated.” He sighs. He doesn't even know what Eddie is to him now. “He’s my nephew. I just got custody of him today.”

“Oh.” The woman breathes out. Wayne turns back to the kids, Eddie's laughing now and it's music to his ears.

Wayne spills his heart to the random stranger, some part of his heart knowing that it will be safe with her.

“I don’t know what I am doing. I can barely take care of myself, let alone a child.” Wayne starts, “But he’s never got a good home and I want to give that to him.”

She smiles at him, "Just the fact that you want to give him a good home is telling me that you’ll be just fine. Don’t overthink it, life’s too short for that.”

It hits Wayne straight to his chest. He still doesn't know what exactly to do, but he feels better knowing that he has a chance to give Eddie the home he deserves.

“Thank you.” Wayne says, smiling at the woman as they watch the kids giggle and play.

“Steve’s your boy?” Wayne asks.

She beams back at him, answering without missing a beat, “Yeah, he’s my boy. Not my son, just my nephew. But I love him like he’s mine.”

Oh. Well, isn't that just perfect? Wayne softens and thinks— huh— she does understand.

When the time comes, Wayne watches as Eddie says a tearful goodbye with the other boy. There's daisies in his hair, like it grows right with his hair and Eddie has one tucked between his ears. It's intimate, the picture perfect to describe puppy love.

Eddie stands and waves at the boy's moving car, until he can't even see it anymore. And then, Eddie looks at him, "Where do I go now?"

Wayne stoops on his knees to see him eye to eye, "You're coming home with me. But before that we're gonna go get some milkshakes, does that sound good with you, Ed?"

Eddie looks at him curiously, brown eyes staring at him, "Do you have money for that?"

It floors Wayne, how grown up this child is. Eddie deserves to know nothing about this. In his age, he should be thinking about playing and making friends and being a child. No, Eddie is concerned if Wayne has enough money for a fucking milkshake.

"Of course, I have money for that, Ed!" Wayne laughs, patting his head. He stands, hoping it'll hide the pain in his eyes.

"Okay." Eddie answers. Wayne offers his hand for him to take, Eddie stares at it.

"Let's go?" Wayne asks, and Eddie nods, finally taking his hand, "Let's go."

From that day on, Wayne swears to protect Eddie, give him the home he deserves. He changes his shift to the evening one so he can stay home with him, gave him his room so he can have the privacy he deserves. Wayne loves Eddie like he's his own.

Even when Eddie finally comes out, that love didn't falter, "Hey, Wayne?"

Wayne turns to him. Eddie's bigger now, curly hair growing into longer wisps. He's wearing a vest with patches, they sewed it together months ago. "Yeah?"

"Remember that boy? In the playground with daisies in his hair? The day you took me home?" Wayne hums, nodding.

Eddie stares at him, arms crossed like a shield, "Yeah, he was my first love."

Wayne blinks at him.

"And I think— well— I know. I am gay."

Wayne nods, "Alright."

He turns to turn off the stove. Sits down and talks to Eddie, makes sure he knows that he can't be out because it's too dangerous, makes sure he knows that there's nothing wrong with loving another man.

And at the end of the night, Wayne tucks him in, just before he goes to work, kisses his forehead and says him, "I love you, Ed. Nothing will ever change that."

It's not until years later that he sees the boy from the playground again. Wayne's pretty sure he saw him in a few of the local papers, but he wasn't really sure, the pictures are too blurry, too small.

But this— this is the clearest picture Wayne has ever seen and he's damn sure that the boy sleeping beside Eddie's hospital bed is the boy with the daisies.

Wayne coughs, and the boy immediately springs back to life. It's odd. It's the same boy, only older. But there's so much weariness in his eyes, the same look Wayne has seen on war veterans. He still has brown hair, smooth and golden.

Eddie wakes up right after him, eyes bleary, with a small smile as soon as he sees him, "Uncle Wayne. I love you."

It's the first thing Eddie's said to him after a week of missing. Wayne chokes with tears. He moves closer to hug Eddie, tears in his eyes.

There was a time that he thought he'd never be able to do this again, that this was the end. Wayne was ready to burn this whole town, the whole world even, for whatever they've been doing to his pure, innocent nephew.

But he's here, alive and awake in front of Wayne and he thinks he can finally, finally breathe again.

"Never do that to me again, Ed. Never."

Eddie chuckles, "Alright. I promise."

"I love you too, okay?" Eddie nods.

They separate and for a few solid seconds, they all just stare at each other before Eddie speaks again, "Oh, uhm, Uncle Wayne, this is Steve. Steve, this is my Uncle Wayne."

Steve immediately stands up, shaking his hand earnestly. Wayne stares at Eddie, waits for any indication that he knows, remembers that this boy was his first love.

Nothing.

Nada.

After breaking every NDA he signed and telling Wayne every little tidbit of his crazy week, Eddie finally falls asleep again with the help of a handful of drugs.

Wayne takes his chance, just before Steve goes to go and check on their other friend, the Mayfield kid.

"Hey, kid?" Steve stops on his tracks, before facing him.

"Sir?"

Wayne scoffs, "None of that Sir stuff. Wayne would do. I just have a question."

"What is it, si— Wayne?" Steve blinks at him, lips pursing at the obvious mistake.

"Do you have an aunt?" Steve looks visibly taken back, eyes widening.

"Yes. I have." He blanches, "I did."

Oh. Oh, no.

"You did?" Wayne asks; he knows what the answer is but he still wants to know what happened to that woman from the playground that day. The same one that he still thinks of when he has a tough time.

Wayne has always thought that they'll meet again someday, that he'll get to thank her for that one conversation. He missed his chance.

"She died when I was a kid. Cancer." Steve answers, his voice quivering for a split second, "Why do you ask? Did you know her?"

Wayne shakes his head, "No. I don't think so. You just reminded me of someone, and guess I got it wrong."

Steve nods his head, accepting his answer wholeheartedly, "Goodnight, Wayne."

And Wayne watches, as the door closes shut behind Steve, "Goodnight, daisy boy."

Steve and Eddie, Wayne thinks, are utter idiots.

First, they dance together for ages before they finally get their act together and date. Wayne might've as well held a white poster paper with "KISS" written on it behind them.

Second, they fight over when they first meet and none of them are even right. Wayne is exhausted, listening to them argue about it day and night.

Third, they're blind. Literally blind.

The day of their wedding, Wayne hoped that the two boys would finally realize that they've met that day on the park. He asked that nice girl, Nancy, to pick some daisies and to put it on Steve's hair for the ceremony. While, Wayne went out to pick one to tuck behind Eddie's ear.

As Wayne watched as the two boys proclaim their love for each other in front of their family, with daisies tucked in their hairs just like the day they first met; he's overcome with the feeling of joy and happiness over the fact that the two boys still found each other even after everything.

It's ridiculous watching them not recognize each other, so Wayne finally decided to end their (his) misery.

Eddie clinks a glass with a fork, "Uncle Wayne! Speech!" There's a flurry of clinking before Wayne finally stands up.

"Alright, alright. I'll do it." They laugh, putting down their glasses.

It's a small backyard wedding. The Hopper-Byers has decked the yard with bright lights that brightened the whole night. In the middle, there's one long table to fit all of them. On the end of the table, side-by-side, is Eddie and Steve.

"Alright, I have a confession to make." Everyone straightens up in anticipation.

"I know it's been a running debate between Steve and Eddie, as to who's right about where and when they first met." Wayne can hear Eddie saying, "It's me obviously!"

"Settle down, boy." Wayne says, making them laugh.

"The truth is they're both wrong. You both have been very blind to the truth." Eddie makes an appalled noise as Steve laughs.

"The truth is I know when they first met." Eddie squints at him, confused. Steve whispers something to his ear that Eddie answers with a shrug.

"Steve and Eddie first met as kids. It was the same day I got custody of Eddie. I bought him to the park after that, let him play, you know? Out of no where, this kid—" Wayne chuckles.

"This kid comes up to Eddie, introduces himself and asks if Eddie wants to be pushed. His aunt— his aunt was very kind to me even though I was a complete stranger spilling my guts out to her."

"When it was time to leave, Eddie says goodbye to this kid, and it was so intimate. I remember thinking it was the perfect picture for puppy love. The boy goes home with daisies tucked in his hair, while Eddie goes home with one in his ear."

"It's not until years later, when Eddie came out to me that he tells me that the same boy with the daisies was his first love. And it's not until a few more years later after that, when I first meet the daisy boy again, sleeping beside Eddie's bed in the hospital."

Wayne turns to Steve and Eddie, there's pure surprise in their faces as they watch and listen to Wayne's speech.

"I could never really forget about that day and that boy. The way he made my nephew happy on one of the worst days of his lives. And now, he gets to make Eddie happy for the rest of their lives." Wayne sniffs, hiding it with a fake cough.

"Love is iffy." Wayne says, causing everyone to chuckle, "But what you guys have? It's been set into stone way before you knew each other. That's as true as love can ever be and I hope you nurture and care for it for the rest of your lives."

There's no dry eye in the yard. Wayne's heart is full and content, because he's sure that his son will be happy and taken care for, for the rest of their lives.

Wayne raises his glass,

"A toast to the daisy boys."

→ Annalyn's POV | BONUS

(thank you for the overwhelming love for Annalyn's POV! i am so glad y'all liked it. 💗)

TAGS: @7-starboi @emly03 @a-new-kind-of-blue @leather-and-freckles @tiny-enthusiast @cherrycolas-things @the-redthread @lady-silkwing @ancielsol @sunshine1066 @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @makewavesandwar @hunterbow04 @resident-gay-bitch @swimmingbirdrunningrock @bidisastersworld

#let me cry #i love wayne so much #uncle wayne supremacy #FOREVER #dae writes #daeheadcanons #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie fanfic

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hllfireclb · 2 years

Text

"I‘ll make you feel better Princess“ | Older!eddie X Fem!reader

Pairing: Older Eddie X Fem Reader (reader is 21, Eddie in his 30‘s)

Warnings: +18 MINORS GO AWAY ISTG, Age gap, slight Daddy kink I think?? hurt / angst,pet names, smut, eddie being a soft meanie, oral (f receiving), if I missed something pls let me know!

Word count: 2.3k

a/n: I’m such a simp for older Eddie x reader <\\\3 so I HAD to write something about it..this is my first time trying to write smut and idk how to feel about it. Maybe it’s kinda rushed? Idk :“)

English is not my first language, so I apologize for all kinds of mistakes! Feel free to send requests! feedback is always appreciated but please be nice! Enjoy the story! Don’t like? Don’t read!

Masterlist

It‘s a cold fall night in Hawkins Indiana, 2am to be exact. You should be lying in your bed by now, cuddled up between your plushies and pillows to get some sleep before work tomorrow. Instead you’re here. Sitting in your older neighbors lap while he‘s softly playing with your hair. Your back is pressed against his strong chest, enjoying the comfortable state you’re currently in as his body gives you some warmth. He‘s like your personal human heater. Your eyes are focused on the small screen in front of you, watching whatever lame sitcom is playing at this time, when a soft sigh escapes your lips.

"What is it Sweetheart?“ the deep voice of your fathers co-worker suddenly interrupts your silent staring contest with the screen of the TV. "What do you mean?“ is all you say, not daring to look away from the screen but Eddie has other plans. He wraps his strong arms around your hips, making you face him within 2 seconds and without any struggle. He‘s expecting to see your pretty eyes staring back at his but instead he finds you looking slightly downward, directly onto his chest. His fingertips poke into your side, a sign for you to look at him, but you don’t. You‘re avoiding his gaze on purpose.

"You know exactly what I mean, young lady. What‘s going on in that pretty head of yours?“ his voice is soft but daring. He wants to know what made you come over to his old, messy trailer. Especially because it’s 2am on a Wednesday night and because he knows you have to get up early tomorrow. If you‘re not going to tell him on your own, he‘s going force it out of you.

This time it‘s his turn to let out a heavy sigh after no reaction of yours. One of Eddie‘s hands finds it‘s way to your jaw, gripping it hard to lift your head up a bit and making you look at him. This time your eyes meet with his instantly. They’re beautiful brown, almost like the color of chocolate. His pupils are expanded, not as wide as they are when he‘s horny but just enough to see the pure adoration and concern in his eyes. A simple look of his is all you need to start blushing like a crazy teenager who‘s madly in love.

It‘s not the first time that Eddie looks at you that way. He has done it many times before but ever since the two of you started this little 'affair', how you like to call it, it just feels so much different. So much better. Eddie and you have known each other since you were 16 years old, he actually took care of you sometimes too. Whenever your father was on one of his "business trips" or out partying, Eddie happily decided to look after you. He made you breakfast, watched over you when you had some parties at yours, he drove you to school and picked you up again. People in town started to think that Eddie Munson had found his "lost daughter“ how they liked to call you. But you‘re still pretty much convinced that he‘s just doing all of that for you, because he knows how it feels to grow up without parents. Without a father figure especially.

"Are you gonna talk to me, or do you just wanna keep staring, Princess?“ his voice pulls you out of your thoughts once again, the nickname he has given you making you shiver under his touch slightly. "Sorry..'s just that you‘re really fucking pretty" your lips form into a soft smile. The grip on your jaw loosens up as Eddie gives you his usual, deep chuckle. Your favorite sound ever, next to his moans. His hand wanders down your body until it‘s settled on your hips, drawing slow circles into the flesh of your barely covered ass. "Well…y‘know I appreciate your compliments. But you gotta talk to me Angel, what made you come over to an old man like me at that time, mh?" You stay silent again, causing another sigh of Eddie‘s but before he‘s able to continue talking, you start talking.

"It‘s just..my dad was being an asshole again. I didn’t want to argue with him…so I left. And I thought coming here was the best thing to do.." you shyly admit while looking down to his chest once again. Not daring to look up, he’s probably smirking like always. Teasing you. Your fingers slowly start dragging over the soft material of his tank top, playing with the hem of it as you reach the bottom. Eddie stalks over your hands, following every single movement with his eyes. Gosh he thinks you‘re adorable like this. Sitting there, in one of his old Shirts and your panties only, right on his lap, while you’re playing with his clothes. He probably shouldn’t be head over heals for a younger women, especially not you since he has known you, since what feels like forever. Plus, you’re his co-workers daughter who just started working. All of this is so wrong. But it feels so goddamn right.

"You want me to make you feel better Princess? I‘ll take care of you, no matter what you want me to do" and he means it. If you need to cuddle up to his chest and ball your eyes out, he‘ll be the one to hold you close to him and let you wet his shirts with your tears. If you want to punch someone, he‘ll be the one to let you punch him. If you need a hot chocolate and ice cream, he‘ll drive to the next supermarket and get you everything you need. If you need to get fucked until you‘re nothing but a crying, cock-drunk Slut, oh he‘ll happily be the man to make you cry beneath him. He‘d do anything for you.

Your fingers make their way up to his chest again, locking your gaze with his carefully as you do and nod in response to his earlier question. "Words y/n." Of course he needs words. "Please make me feel good Eddie". That‘s all he needs. "I’ll make you feel better Princess".

Before you know it you’re flipped over, lying on your back with the soft material of the couch touching your back. Eddie‘s fast with his movements though. He’s hovering above you in the split of a second, pressing his wet lips onto yours as he kisses you messily. He may be older now but he’s still kinda chaotic when it comes to making out. You love it though. You softly moan into the kiss when one of his hands starts massaging your left boob, slowly playing with it as his other hand wraps around your throat to give it a soft squeeze.

He‘s lying between the fat of your thighs just as fast as you were lying on the couch. His arms wrap around your legs after he slowly pulls down your panties, smiling a bit because of the wetness that already lingers between your folds. He drags them all the way down, to your ankles before he sits up again, removing them completely and leaving you in front of him in nothing but his shirt. What a beautiful sight. You mirror his action, sitting up straight with your hands at the hem of his shirt. When he realizes you’re about to pull it off, he stops you.

"Keep it on please. You look stunning in this shirt" he smiles at you. Before you‘re able to protest, his lips are on yours again, moving slowly as the two of you find a steady rhythm. Going slow and passionate this time. You feel the light pressure he‘s putting into the kiss, a sign for you to lie down again. You happily follow his unspoken request and lie down, spreading your legs wider so he‘s able to get comfortable between your thighs. His arms wrap around your legs and hips once again and he slips even further until his lips graze over the skin of your inner thigh, making you gasp softly.

You‘re able to feel a smug grin form on his lips after he starts sucking on your skin slightly, leaving you with a few dark marks that only you and him will be able to see. A hot feeling starts to build up in your body, causing you to whimper softly. "Ed’s please..no teasing today. I need you" you sigh. Eddie doesn’t want to tease you, well at least not right now…but he wants to take his sweet time with you. He wants to worship your body in every way possible. He wants to show you how much he loves to make you feel good. To him, it doesn’t matter if he gets off on it. His only goal is to make you cum…also, most of the time he cums in his pants like a dumb teenage boy, just from hearing and seeing you fall apart beneath him.

"Sorry Sweetheart, just wanted to mark what‘s mine" he winks at you before pulling you even closer, making you gasp again after his tongue slowly starts drawing slow circles on your, already aching, clit. The two of you never spoke about what actually is going on with you..if you’re a couple already or not..but you couldn’t care less right now. Sweet Eddie really loves taking his time, devouring every soft moan and gasp of yours as he starts giving your bud the softest kitten licks. His slow make-out session with your clit doesn’t last long though, he knows what you need and he‘ll gladly give it to you. So his tongue starts to lick through your folds, which are soaked in your own juices by now, enjoying the taste of you in his mouth as he starts playing with your hole.

Normally he‘d be wearing his tongue piercing right now since he loves eating you out with it. It’s his new favorite thing to do, ever since you’ve told him that it makes you cum even faster, even harder…but because of the time you’ve decided to come over, he‘s sadly not wearing it. He‘ll definitely catch up to that tomorrow morning. While his tongue starts to happily explore your insides, one of your hands settles in his messy curls to tug on it every now and then. It helps you to find a hold and to not squirm away from him.

"Eddie Fuck! 'S so good“ you moan out softly while tugging on his hair, when his thumb lazily starts massaging your clit. He ate you out so many times by now, he just knows the ways to make you feel good. To make you forget everything. Others would get tired of cumming so fast, but you? Oh no, you love it. Especially because Eddie is so outrageous good at making you cum several times. With every soft tug on his hair, his own moans start to get louder…causing you to shiver and curl your toes into the sofa. He knows what he’s doing, that’s for sure.

Another moan escapes your lips, this time it‘s louder and more intense, causing Eddie to grin and stop his actions. "Already close, huh? Babe I didn’t even eat you out for five minutes" his smirk is devilish, causing your poor Pussy to twitch. He’s teasing you. "I told you to not tease me!" You pout at him. Oh how he loves seeing you like this, cheeks pink and chest moving up and down rapidly because of how hard you‘re breathing. "Yeah, yeah right..sorry" he grins even wider when he puts more pressure to your clit, causing your head to fall back and a whine to leave your mouth.

He‘s fast with continuing his previous actions, eating you out like the starved man that he is. He can’t get enough of you, especially of how you taste on his tongue. He slurps up every bit of juice, every moan of yours as he stares up at you, seeing you fall apart on his tongue only. It‘s embarrassing how fast you‘re at your own limit, feeling the knot in your lower abdomen build up already just from him eating your out. Pathetic. You slowly look up again, seeing his eyes stare directly back at yours. His black pupils took over the soft brown color which you were able to see earlier, the lust and the Hunger completely took over him by now. He grins wide when he catches you staring down at him, causing you to blush even harder as another moan escapes your lips.

You can feel your legs start twitching after a while and your breath starts to speed up a bit, Eddie feels it too. His grip on your hips tightens and his tongue starts moving faster as he moans into you. You don’t notice how he starts humping the soft material beneath you, trying to get some relief himself while he rubs intense circles on your clit. Another loud moan of yours fills the living room as you feel the knot in your tummy snap "ohmygodohmygodohmygod Eddie!! Fuck fuck fuck!". It‘s music to Eddie‘s ears. The best melody he has ever heard. Knowing he‘s the only one who makes you cum this hard and this fast makes him moan into you again as he tries to get everything of your orgasm. Eating everything up like it‘s his last meal. He takes you through your orgasm,while he helps you to calm yourself down by drawing smooth circles into your skin. When you‘re finally completely back to earth, he kisses your pussy one last time before he helps you to sit on his lap once again, holding you close.

"What about you? You didn’t get to cum and I know how painf-" you start but he cuts you off. "This wasn’t about me. It was about you Doll. We’ve got time for more tomorrow" his hand strokes over the back of your head as he plants a soft kiss on your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue. You really do not deserve this man.

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steddieunderdogfics · 1 month

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A Rage That Never Wavers by FandomLover1992

@fandomlover1992

Rating: Explicit

78,813 words, 9/? chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Tags: Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Needs Love, Steve Harrington Needs Therapy, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Bottom Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Steve Harrington Has Nightmares, Hurt Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is cursed, Abused Steve Harrington, Gay Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Sex Toys, Magical Tattoos, Magical Accidents, Magical Artifacts, magical healing, Alternate Universe-Witches, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Steve Harrington is a hot wood worker, Magical Sex Toys, First Time Bottoming, Loss of Virginity, First Kiss, Eddie Munson is Whipped, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Gay Eddie Munson, Eddie is a LGBTQIA champion, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Fluff, Eddie Munson Has a Crush, Familiars, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Steve Harrington Whump, Eddie takes amazing care of Steve, Touch-Starved Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has PTSD, Steve Harrington Has a Praise Kink, Eddie Munson Has a Big Dick

Summary:

It was just a baseball. Steve knew he shouldn't have gone into his neighbor's yard for that stupid baseball when he was twelve, but Tommy Hagen insisted. The worst, Steve thought would happened, would be that he got yelled by his parents. Not this through…not this hell….not this curse. From that day on, anyone who got within 20 feet of Steve Harrington, his friends, strangers, his own parents were overcome with rage and hatred for him. And where rage and hatred festers, beratements and attacks soon follow. One day, many years later Eddie Munson, a rather powerful, if not quirky and well-meaning Witch moves to town with his Uncle Wayne. Between hexing bigots and building magical artifacts, Eddie's determined to solve the mystery of the angel that lives in the cabin next to them in the woods. But can Eddie help him? It's one thing to lift a curse, it's another to mend a body…and a soul. If you're looking for a super angsty, hurt/comfort fic where Steve's a hot wood worker and Eddie's a witch, all in an Autumn cabin core setting, look no further!

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @fandomlover1992 . Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #writer's spotlight #modern au #witch au #hurt/comfort

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quickiesgirl · 2 years

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Mornin’ Beautiful - Eddie Munson

Paring: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+, Smut, Switch!Eddie, Morning Wood, Dry Humping, Orgasm Denial.

Eddie awoke to the morning sun peeking in through the window across his half-naked body, and as he sleepily yawn, he rolled over on his side and searched for your body to wrap his arms around, only finding an empty space beside him.

He lightly rubbed his eyes open and found you sitting at the end of the mattress, hair still damp from your shower, clipping the back of your white, silky bra and getting ready for work at the Family Video Store.

You glanced over your shoulder at Eddie, whose arms were placed behind his head, ogling you from afar. He looked so cute and cuddly. His morning bedhead an adorable mess.

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead.” You sweetly smiled as you threw on a white button-up blouse and tucked it into your black skirt.

“Mornin’, Beautiful,” Eddie said in his low, morning voice that made your stomach flutter. “Whatcha doing up so early?”

“Eddie, it’s 9:30.”

“Yeah, I know. We should be sleeping and cuddling in bed right now.” Eddie protested playfully, making you giggle before crawling up the mattress and placing your hand on his thigh through the covers, holding yourself up as you gave him a little kiss.

“I wish I could, lovebug, but I have work. Robin and Steve are picking me up today.”

Eddie followed you into the bathroom like a puppy dog, not even caring to put more clothes on, his boxers were enough.

He peeked his head into the doorway before stepping behind you and comfortably wrapping his arms around your waist.

You applied lip gloss and mascara while watching the way your boyfriend's lips moved sensually down your neck, making a trail of kisses and lightly suckling at your skin.

The deeper the latch, the more your cunt tingled lustfully. You let out a breathy moan that was music to his ears.

“Mmm, that feels nice, Ed’s.”

You pressed your back into his chest and moved your head to the side, allowing his soft, intoxicating lips more space to travel. His hands snaking up your chest, undoing the first three buttons of your top, “Babe, I just got dressed.”

“Hmm, you don’t need clothes. You know, I prefer you without ‘em anyways.”

You tugged on your bottom lip and held back the want to fuck him silly until he couldn’t remember his own name. You pushed his hands back down to your waist, watching the way he pulled away with a devilish smirk in the mirror, admiring the reddish hickey he marked onto your skin.

“Eddie, my co-workers will be here any minute.” You told him, re-adjusting your top before walking back to his bedroom.

Eddie plopped down on the edge of the mattress, watching as you bent over in front of him and reached down for your shoes, skirt riding up your ass, putting your pretty white panties on display only for his eyes to see.

You stood up, squealing lightly as a strong pair of hands attached to your thighs and pulled you back, seating your ass into his warm lap.

Eddie slid his thick, lengthy fingers up your skirt and whispered sensually into your ear, “Just give me a few minutes, baby. Let me rock your world.”

You bit your bottom lip roughly, noticing his morning wood buried between your ass cheeks, the reason why he’s been needier than normal. You couldn't contain yourself from grinding your ass across his length, feeling the pulsating tip pressed against your vulva.

“Fuck, you feel soo good~” Eddie softly moaned, pre-cum leaking out the head of his cock, making a mess in the front of his boxers.

His hands held your hips loosely, ogling your beautiful ass rocking back and forth, outlined in your sexy mini skirt.

Your supple fingers gripped the sides of his soft, hairy thighs and dug your nails into his skin, turning him on even more while his pretty moans and groans made you wetter by the second.

Suddenly, you heard a loud honk from Steve’s car outside the trailer. A wide smirk spread across your lips as you raised from the flustered boy's lap and began flattening your skirt, listening to him whine behind you.

“Don’t touch that pretty cock of yours until I get home.” You ordered, grabbing your belongings and glancing back at him, his big brown button eyes staring at you with a begging look as his soft, submissive voice came out. “B-but, sweetheart, I-I need you.”

“Be a good for me, and wait.” You teased, dragging your thumb across his jawline as you held his chin up and leaned in slowly, whispering sensually into his ear, “You know my pussy’s all wet and achy for you, so don't ruin the fun, pretty boy.”

You pressed a kiss against his warm, blushing cheek before walking out of the room, leaving him sitting there alone, his erection only throbbing harder. Eddie was gonna have blue balls by the time you got home.

Eddie Munson Smut Taglist: @sunflowerharrington @strawberry-munson @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rottenstyx @cantthinkofauserlololol @natashamacimoff69

Taglist Form | Message if you want to be removed <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #switch eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things netflix #stranger things 4 #stranger things #quickiesgirl writing

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artiststarme · 2 years

Text

"A Little Fruity"

It was just an average night for the Munsons. Wayne was taking advantage of a rare night off to catch up on laundry and watch a rerun of one of his favorite Western films. Eddie was fiddling around the kitchen trying to create some sort of semi-edible dessert for the two to eat after they had finished their sodium-filled TV dinners. After creating a symphony of clunks and bangs, Eddie came bursting around the small island with a small plate and thrust it into Wayne’s face.

“Here, try this. Isn’t it amazing? And it’s healthy!” He said excitedly, pushing the plate into Wayne’s hands and watching him take a small nibble.

Wayne didn’t know what he made, some sort of berry danish or tart it seemed. It was alright but he wasn’t a huge fan of fruity desserts and much preferred richer flavors such as chocolate or caramel. But still, Eddie had tried his best to make a ‘fancy’ dessert and he deserved praise for that.

“Pretty good, kid! It’s a little fruity though,” he said and gave his nephew a thumbs up while he shoved the entire tart into his mouth.

“Hey, like me!” Immediately, Eddie realized what he said and tried to backtrack. “Um, not in a gay way!”

“That’s the only way,” Wayne said after a moment, raising an eyebrow. He maintained a calm composure, the direct opposite of Eddie who was on the verge of a panic attack. Eddie’s heart beat hard against his chest, his hands started to shake, and tears filled the brims of his eyes.

Eddie couldn’t believe he’d been so careless with his words. He’d grown too comfortable and now he was going to pay the price. His uncle was going to abandon him and never talk to him again. And Eddie couldn’t even blame him. If he were him, he wouldn’t want his eccentric, fag of a nephew living with him either. He didn’t know what he could say to fix this.

“Um…” Eddie couldn’t even speak through the fear clogging his throat. He hadn’t been this scared of Wayne since he was dropped at the man’s doorstep by the social worker when he was 11. It had taken months of Wayne slowly breaking down his walls and gaining his trust until he stopped being so afraid of him. But now with one small slip of tongue, he felt like he had reverted back to the little bald-headed kid he was back in the day that had feared everything.

Wayne, immediately recognizing the terrified glint in his wide eyes, set the plate of dessert next to him on the couch and raised his hands in comforting surrender. “Relax kid, I don’t care what you’re into as long as you’re happy. And safe. It’s alright, Eds. Calm down.”

He rose from his seat and approached his cowering nephew carefully, making sure his hands remained in Eddie’s point of view. Eddie watched him approach with wide eyes as he shook like a leaf. When Wayne placed his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, the boy immediately launched himself into his uncle’s arms for a comforting hug. His frame shook with the force of his cries and the whole time, Wayne just patted his shoulders and murmured comforting words in his ear.

“It’s alright, kiddo. You’re still my boy, nothing's gonna change that. It’s alright, you’re okay. I know this isn’t how you wanted to tell me but it's okay.”

Wayne meant what he said. His boy was different in a lot of ways and he’d always accepted him before. He wasn’t going to turn on him just for loving who he loved. Times were hard on people like his nephew. Was he disappointed that Eddie was going to have a harder time finding love than his straight counterparts? Absolutely. But he knew it was beyond Eddie’s control and he would never blame him for that. Not for something he couldn’t control and probably not for some things he did have control over.

Eddie whispered into his shoulder, “you don’t hate me?”

Wayne shook his head passionately, tightening his grip on his nephew. “Of course not! I’m always gonna love ya no matter what. There ain’t a thing you could do that would make me hate you, Eds.”

Eddie let out a weak chuckle, “even if I didn’t graduate again?”

“Even then.”

“What if I murdered someone?” Eddie asked, words coming out more steadily with his worries assuaged.

Wayne scoffed, “you can’t even kill the bugs, kid. You couldn’t murder anybody.”

Eddie pulled away enough to look him in the eyes. There was a smile on his face now but it was dimmed by the tears stuck on his pale face. “But if I did?”

“I’d be a little mad but I’d still help you hide the body. You’d probably have a reason. Now, stop yammering and get that guitar of yers. Show me that new tune you were working on.” Wayne said, swatting at his nephew’s tangled hair and pushing him away.

He listened to his cackling as he went down the hall and shook his head. His boy was too good for this world and he could only hope that when he got hurt, he’d be able to pick up the pieces.

~*~*~*~

Months later, Wayne remembered their conversation as he sat atop a picnic table outside his trailer smoking a cigarette. As soon as he’d seen the broken body of that young girl in the living room of his trailer, he knew it couldn’t have been Eddie. No, there was no world in which his sweet nephew would ever hurt another human being. It wasn’t in his nature. Eddie was theatrical and extravagant but he was also sensitive and tenderhearted.

This horrific deed couldn’t have been his Eddie. Not when just a few months ago, he had come out to him with a joke about a goddamn fruit tart. Not when he’d nearly had a panic attack about being hated by the one person that was always in his corner. No, there was no way regardless of what these piece of shit cops said. He just hoped that he could convince them before things got any worse for his boy.

#I can’t believe I 'came out' to my dad through complaining about a sangria from Red Lobster #This is set a few months before S04 #Eddie comes back from nearly dying with Steve Harrington as his boyfriend #Eddie continues to joke about murder even after everything #stranger things #fanfic #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #uncle wayne #stranger things fanfiction

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heytherehowdyworld · 11 months

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Saturday Night Frights

Summary: Eddie's an angel. Your boyfriend kind of really sucks.

Disclaimer: Y'all I haven't written anything narrative in months and this popped out. The pacing is weird, there's more show than tell, and I do not have time to edit it properly. Bear with me, man. This content is like totally relatable to other people, right? Right?

WC: ~13k

Warnings: language; obviously MDNI bc this is NOT a blog for kids; poor characterisation and general story flaws; way too many commas. Enjoy.

“And that’s what I said!” You say emphatically into the phone, the grimace lining your face bleeding into the theatricality of your tone.

“But he still said no?” One floppy-haired Munson replies, pure derision lining his voice. “You went over the importance of Tolkien’s amendments in The Hobbit as they relate to the Lord of the Rings and he still ‘doesn’t get why you need two copies of the book’? What a loser.”

You snort, ever-amused at how intensely Eddie reacted to fantastical media matters. It was nice to have someone with common interests, especially since your boyfriend of six months felt no need to learn anything more about you than your shift start and end times.

The door to the bar smacks lightly against the opposite wall as you open it. “Right? But I’m supposed to remember the names of every World of Warfare character?” “What a dick.” The phone echoes weirdly as you reach the backroom, Eddie’s voice ringing through both in person and on the mobile. You end the call with a smile. “Tell me about it.”

Eddie startles, grinning when he sees you. He slips his phone into one pocket of the Tardis-like denim jacket he always wears, tilting his head at you.

“Why do you still hang around this guy, then?” The smile on his face tells you he’s not entirely serious asking the question, but with all the other flaws in your romantic relationship — which you’ve spent time telling Eddie about — it feels abrasive.

You sigh. “He’s nice to me, Eds. We get along.”

“We get along too,” he shrugs, “so?”

“It’s different between you and me, you know that. Matt and I are dating so it’s good to have our own things, right?”

“There’s a difference between ‘having your own thing’ and ‘ditching your girlfriend on date night because the boys asked you to play another round with them’,” Eddie gives you a pointed look, shucking off his jacket and hanging it up on a stray hook. He busies himself by tying the customary apron around his narrow hips, unaware of the way your eyes linger on the flex of his fingers as he does so.

“That only happened twice,” you rebut, shrugging off your own coat and hanging it neatly by his, “and he apologised for it.” Without saying more, you offer Eddie your apron by habit. He takes it from you gently, brows furrowed in thought.

“You could ask Ted to get you an apron with longer straps,” he deflects, his careful fingers wrapping the material around you, tying it with practiced precision. This action had become commonplace since a few weeks after you’d started working here, when Eddie had noticed your trouble with tying the narrow threads behind your back. And while yes, it was true you had a problem with securing the apron on you before your shifts, it was specifically Eddie you went to for help because there was something far too comforting about the way his large hands circled your waist whenever he did.

“Longer straps won’t stop my fingers from getting caught in the knot when I try to tie them, Eds.” You nod your head in thanks, stepping away from him to put your hair up in a comfortable bun.

Eddie hums, still deep in distracted thought.

“We’re good, Matt and I.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the ice machine in the serving area of the bar. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Eddie makes a slight sound of disagreement, but before anything more can be said of the matter, your co-worker Nicola walks in.

“Hi guys,” she waves, pierced lips parted in a grin. Her leather jacket creaks as she hangs it up, tinny metal music still playing through the headphones balancing around her neck.

“How was your weekend?” Eddie asks as you watch Nicola check her eyeliner in the mirror hanging above the oddly-placed backroom sink. As per usual, she’s used a graphic liner to test out a new pattern — spiders hanging from the outer corners of her eyes to tide in the hallowe’en season today.

She groans, eyes rolling up in annoyance. “My fuckin’ landlord decided to play music all night Friday,” Friday being the one day off Nicola had for the week, the others filled with classes and odd shifts at the bar, “which was terrible. Then, when I asked him to not do that again on Saturday, he threatened to evict me. And then he did it again! Saturday and Sunday!”

A sympathetic ‘humph’ leaves your throat, and you make an attempt at humour by outlining a plot to exact revenge on her landlord. Nicola laughs kindly, focussing behind you at Eddie once more.

“And yours?” Nicola braces herself on the edge of the sink, one brow arched in artful inquisition as a finger plays with a few loose strands of hair.

Flirting with him.

You suddenly feel a little out of place, existent, but no longer necessary to the conversation.

Eddie shrugs at her, signature grin igniting the dimple in his cheek. “Worked closing on Saturday, slept all day Sunday. The usual.”

You slip away, into the bar, and begin arranging liquors for tonight. The sounds of Nicola and Eddie engaged in happy discussion are quieter here, easier to ignore.

It feels wrong, bad, to be in a relationship and still yearn for your coworker and friend. There’s no reason for jealousy to pool in your stomach at the thought of Eddie and Nicola in a relationship, but it does anyway, and it makes you ill.

Really, if you hadn’t been dating Matt before you’d started working here you’d also try flirting with the man in question. And that fact disgusts you.

“Where’d you disappear to, sweets?” Eddie slides in next to you, the narrow space between each side of the bar resulting in the heat of his body warming you as he passes. The tip of his thumb brushes against you as he moves, trailing a hot line across the small of your back.

You cough, trying to dispel the want for his warmth blooming in you. “Just wanted to get ready for opening. It’s almost five.”

Eddie nods, glancing behind you as Nicola enters the small bar. Together, the three of you ready the space in preparation for its opening time. Chairs are taken off tables, odd dust is wiped away, and glasses are dried in advance.

The night itself passes steadily enough, and gossip is passed around between serving tables and shaking up cocktails.

It’s the next evening that Matt comes to visit you, all bright smiles and sparkling eyes as he greets you where you stand behind the bar. He’s brought you a treat, as a surprise, a small coconut-flavoured cupcake. You thank him, grinning, all the while mentally planning to pass it off to Nicola. She likes coconut, you never have.

It’s fine though, an easy thing to forget, and you take the kind gesture for what it is: thoughtful.

“Do I get a kiss, baby?”

“Matt, I’m at work, you know I can’t.”

“No one’s watching us.”

He’s right, a glance to either side of you will prove as much — Eddie is busy chatting up one of the groups of older women that frequent the bar, valued regulars who you’re convinced only come because they have a crush on him; Nicola and Robin are working alongside you but on the far side of the bar, busy prepping some complicated-looking cocktails and chatting up the patrons.

“Matt,” you implore, voice almost a whine.

“Just one kiss.” Matt leans over the bartop and into your personal space, drawing the attention of some regular who comes around often enough that you’d consider him a friend.

“You alrigh’?” The man asks, tone gruff.

A soft smile mollifies him enough to return to his drink and stare once again off into the middle-distance. Matt garners your attention again, and you nod in the hopes that it will pacify him.

“Just the one?” You double-check.

Matt smirks, “mhm.”

You bend at the hip, almost on your tiptoes to reach Matt over the high bartop. He leans the rest of the way over, thankfully, and you grant him a chaste peck. Before you can pull away, however, his hand wraps around the back of your neck and draws you back towards him.

The kiss deepens, turning into something that’s half tongue and all messy, and a sound of disgruntlement leaves your throat.

You finally manage to push Matt away, hands braced against his firm chest. “You said one, Matt,” your voice is chastising, but there’s no malice in it.

“Couldn’t help myself, baby.”

Your brows furrow, and you can’t help but remember the last time something similar happened. He’d aid the same then, too, pacifying apologies and sugar-sweet smiles to win your forgiveness. “Matt, I’m at work. Please help yourself next time, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll try to, baby. It’s hard to around you.”

“You said the same thing last time.”

Matt scowls, the action sprouting wrinkles across his nose, up his forehead. “Baby, why are you getting so stuck on this? It’s not even a big deal. Just a kiss. I don’t know why you’re getting all mad at me for it.”

He stands up, and you panic.

“I’m not,” you reach over the bar to catch his hand as he begins to stand, worried that you’ve said something wrong. “I’m not mad, honey. Just don’t want to get fired, y’know? Company policy that we can’t french the customers, and all.”

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes, scowling. At least he’s sitting again.

“Are you mad at me?” Your voice is wan, scared.

Matt crosses his arms, shrugging. “No.”

“It’s just, you sound mad…”

“Jesus fucking christ, I’m not mad, okay? You wanted me to leave you alone so I’m leaving you alone.”

“Right.” Somehow, you don’t believe him, that aching in your chest that you’ve screwed up blossoming into something near-lethal. The urge to apologise consumes you. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“Whatever.”

The rest of the night goes in much the same way, with you checking in on a moping Matt every fifteen minutes to make sure you haven’t irreparably damaged your relationship. You offhandedly notice him watching Nicola and Robin, calling them over to order drinks instead of you, and it hurts.

Even more so, you’re slightly offended when Robin comes up to you with sorry eyes and apologises for it, as though it’s her fault he’d been giving her attention. You’re not mad at her, you don’t think you could ever be, but you do find your mind drifting to comparisons between your appearances.

And that’s the state of mind Eddie finds you in minutes later, still stuck in a rut where you’re listing all the ways Robin and Nicola are better than you. Shorter, because guys like that, right? Skinnier, maybe he thinks clothes lay better on her? Hotter, because of the tattoos? Funnier, because-

“Y’alright, pretty girl?” Eddie braces his elbows against the bartop, clearly taking a break from his club of adoring fangirls.

“All good,” you smile at him, eyes uncontrollably woebegone.

Eddie hums, leaning down to get closer to you. “Do you want me to believe that?” He asks, somehow reading you to dirt despite your best efforts to mask the insecurity biting at you.

“Most people believe the truth, Eds. So, yes.”

The sound he makes in reply is less than agreeable, but he nonetheless backs off. “How’s Matt?”

“Eds,” you say, a degree of warning lacing the word.

“What? If you’re all good then why shouldn’t I ask about Mr Skulk over there. Especially since he’s staring right at us.”

Hands busy cleaning off a glass, you glance slightly to the side to find that Matt is indeed glaring at you.

“Bad day at work, probably. Nothing you’ve to worry about.”

Eddie shrugs, silent for the moment, and leaves you be with a gentle squeeze to your shoulder.

“What the fuck was that?” Matt asks the moment you’re seated in his car.

“What do you mean?” You’re tired, your cheeks hurt from smiling all shift, and your head is starting to hurt with the terrible thoughts you had circling your mind the entire time you worked.

“Don’t play dumb, okay? I know that guy was flirting with you.”

You press your fingers against your temples, the action helping none. “Eddie wan’t flirting with me, Matt. He just wanted to know if everything was okay. Just checking in on me.”

“Oh, so you’re saying he didn’t touch you, then?” Matt starts the car, movements abrupt and aggressive.

“He touched my shoulder, Matt. It was just a friendly touch.”

“You’ve got to be all sorts of dumb if you don’t think he’s into you. I don’t want you being friends anymore, okay?”

“Matt…" “Me or him, babe. Take your pick. I don’t want you being around men who want you in their beds, and I don’t think that’s a big thing to ask of my fucking girlfriend. Unless you’d rather be his girl?”

“Matt, you know I love you.” Matt speeds through a red light, and your hands grip either side of your seat. “Matt… Matt, please slow down, I love you.”

“If you loved me, you’d stop being friends, or whatever you call it, with that freak.”

“We work together, Matt. It’s not that easy.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to make it up to me some other way,” he says, looking at you with a kind of feral gleam in his eye that causes goosebumps to rise along your skin.

You know what he wants, it’s what he always wants, and for all the love you hold for him you really don’t think you’re ready for that step.

And his reaction is the same as always when you tell him so.

He drops you off at your place, speeding off before you can say much more, and remains radio silent for the next week.

He texts you on Wednesday, eight days after the “argument”, asking you to meet on Monday before work. You agree, thrilled that he still cares about you, hoping you can make your inadequacies up to him.

Sunday is a difficult day, the first weekend shift you’ve had to work in a while. There’s customers filling the small bar from opening until closing, and because you offered to take over Robin’s shift so that she could flirt some more with a girl at her other job — in a bookstore, no less — you’re utterly exhausted. The thought of seeing Matt the next day truly does smooth things over, though, makes it easier to smile for the men who insist that they’d treat you right, if you just gave them a chance.

So, when you wake the next morning with your legs throbbing and tired as they always are after a long shift, it’s with a grin.

You’re excited to see him. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to spend time just one-on-one with each other, without the addition of either his friends or his roommate or your coworkers to lessen the intimacy of your shared moments.

This will be good, it’ll quell the worries flurrying within you, the thought that maybe Matt doesn’t feel for you what you do for him, the thoughts that maybe Eddie would be better.

Your phone, buried somewhere beneath yesterday’s clothes, rings. “Robin?” You say by way of greeting, mind still sleep-addled and groggy.

“Ok, so you know that girl I was telling you about?”

Yawning, you hazard a guess, “Lisa?”

“Aimee. Well, I asked her out and she said yes!” Robin’s voice turns almost shrill as the phone struggles to translate her excitement, a squeaky glitching that makes your ear hurt. “So I need you to help me pick out something to wear. Something that says I’m a lesbian, but my soulmate is a guy, but I like, really really love women.”

“That might be hard to do, Robbie. Why don’t I just get you a shirt that says all of that instead?”

“Come on, please? You’re my last hope.”

“Why can’t you ask Steve for help?” The duvet rustles beneath you as you stand, finally ready to prepare for the day ahead. “Since he’s your soulmate and all.”

“‘Cause he’s a dude. He’s gonna tell me to wear a low-cut shirt and a short skirt and like, that is hot, but does it really look gay?”

You chuckle, heading to the small kitchen of your apartment. “Sounds like you’re stereotyping here, Robs. Tsk tsk.”

“You know what I mean,” she whines, “if I take advice from a straight dude on what to wear, I’ll end up being appealing to other straight dudes. I need your feminine sensibilities. Make me look like I’m a pussy-eating champion.”

“Robin,” you laugh, feminine sensibilities shocked by her brashness. “Fine. What time is your date?”

“Six.”

“Alright,” with your phone knocking on death’s door, you manage to send a quick text to Matt alerting him of this new appointment — ‘Is it okay if I meet Robin later today?’. “I’m meeting Matt for breakie in a bit, and afterwards I’ll head over to yours?”

“Text me when you’re on your way.” The phone call ends with the customary ‘love you, love you too’ alongside best wishes on your breakfast date. You look at the clock, surprised you’d managed to wake up with so much time in the day to spare.

Matt had asked you to meet him for eleven, so you have two hours to shower and dress. You decide to pull out all the stops in an effort to impress him.

After a thorough shower — body hairless as one of those raw-chicken-looking cats and shining with some shimmer body lotion you’d been gifted a birthday or two ago — you look over your closet. It’s warm today, but cloudy on the horizon, so you opt for a comfortable sweater and dark-coloured skirt.

By the time you’ve done your makeup to a degree that suits you and twisted your hair into something comfortable, it’s ten forty-five. You decide, then, that it’s time to head over to Matt’s place. He always had valued punctuality.

Matt’s apartment is on the third storey, and you feel a cosmic gratitude at that fact because the lift is still out and you don’t think you’d manage to climb more flights of stairs than you already have to. Finding his flat when you’ve passed this obstacle is easy enough, front door marked by evidently college-boy humour.

The “babes this way” doormat stares at you as you knock on the door, afraid to ring the doorbell because last time you had it Matt had gotten so startled he’d hit his head against his bedroom door. The impact had been so hard that it had cracked almost in two, logwood splintering with every touch. It had taken you a few hours and a lot of grovelling to make sure that his landlord didn’t blame Matt for the accident — after all, it had been your action that had caused his reaction.

Needless to say, you were now wary about using the bell unnecessarily.

You knock again, rolling from the balls of your feet to your heels as you wait for an answer. When still you hear no sign of life, and the clock on your phone says it’s eleven-ten already, you try the doorknob.

It opens under your hand, pushing in to reveal the apartment expanse to you. While normally you’d have no qualms with entering Matt’s house, the idea of doing so without him stalls you some. Would he consider it invasive? But you had plans today, for this time, so maybe he lost track of time while getting ready and left the door open for you to enter when you got here?

The latter option does seem likely, although you can barely count on one hand the times he’s done something similar. Still, by Occam’s Razor, it makes sense.

You step into the short hallway and toe off your shoes, calling out for Matt. No one answers, but somewhere within the flat you think you hear muffled conversation.

You make it to the door to his bedroom before realising the sounds for what they really are — hushed moans and laboured grunts that make you nervous. Maybe he’s working out?

“Matt?” The door opens quietly as you step into his room.

The first thing you notice is its general disarray. Clothes are thrown about everywhere, feminine and masculine alike. You spy a pair of panties tossed over Matt’s study desk in the corner of the room. On the carpet, a heel eyes you mockingly.

Next, your eyes focus on the small pack of condoms on the nightstand that has been completely torn open. Little metal packets glint in the mid-morning light, spread about the small table and around the floor beneath it.

And of course, the most notable thing you see is the woman balanced on your boyfriend’s hips, riding him into oblivion. Her motions don’t stop as you enter, don’t stop as you take the whole scene in, don’t stop as you finally realise what this is and scream because how else should you react?

The girl screams too, shocked utterly. She hides beneath the blankets, and you can’t fault her for being surprised at the invasion. Hell, if it were the other way around, you’d be hiding too.

But Matt looks at you in a way that makes you think he’s not fully present, mentally. Generous as you are, you decide to bring him back into his body by tossing some odd socks lying on the floor at him.

You turn and leave, quickly, as he begins shouting. His bedroom door slams against its frame, the thin wood even less of a barrier than you thought it would be because now that you know what’s going on behind it, it’s difficult to mistake the sounds for anything else.

Matt lets loose some strangled cries, somewhere between pleasure and panic. You don’t care to figure out what he’s trying to say through them, pulling on your shoes with blurry eyes and throwing open the front door.

You make it halfway down exterior hallway before he catches up to you, swinging out his front door to yell “stop!” in your direction.

“Save it, Matt.”

“Please, baby, it’s-“

You round on him, pissed beyond belief at yourself for not seeing the signs, at the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, and most of all at him for doing this to you. “It’s what, Matt? ‘Not what it looks like’? ‘Not real’?”

“God, what is fucking wrong with you? You barge into my apartment and then get mad at me when you see something you didn’t want to? Are you fucking insane or something, thinking you can invade my privacy like that?”

“Invading your privacy, Matt? We had a date today, one that you clearly forgot about, and I thought you’d left the door open for me. Must’ve been stupid to think you’d ever even imagine doing something like that for little old me.”

“It’s all your fault anyway, you know? ‘Cause you’re such a prude, frigid, bitch I had to find entertainment somewhere else.”

Your throat closes around any words that you might’ve begun saying, hurt taking over where anger had burned.

“What?” The word comes out more broken than you would have liked, and you make up for its weakness by running through the stairway door. You don’t want to hear the answer to your question. You don’t want to break down in the middle of the hallway, in front of Matt.

He walks after you, leaning over the third storey railing to call you a “bitch” a few more times. “Wouldn’t have to fuck other women if you just did your job right.”

In your car, you beeline for Robin’s place. You know that it’s probably not right, helping her prepare for the flush of new love when your relationship is falling to pieces, but you also can’t let her down. You said you’d show up, so you will.

You’ll bury the hurt because Robin deserves for this date to go well.

“Hi!” Robin is smiling more widely than you think you’ve ever seen, practically glowing with excitement.

“You seem excited,” you let her joy be contagious, revelling in the purity of it.

She blushes, inviting you in by way of walking further into the house and assuming you’ll follow. “Me? What reason could I possibly have to be excited?”

“None, I suppose.” You pull off your shoes, placing them neatly beside each other in the doorway. “Have you thought any more about what you’ll wear? Maybe had some breakthroughs?”

Robin shakes her head, bobbed hair twirling around her with the force of the movement. Her room, when you enter it on her tail, is in utter disarray. Skirts, shirts, dresses, pants, and all sorts of hard-to-discern items of clothing lay about the place in a way that makes you question just how she managed to make such a mess by herself.

“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” she says, pointing to a pile of clothes in a way that you presume means they’re contenders in the race for tonight’s outfit. “It’s only twelve thirty.”

“We, uh… ended up cutting it short. Matt had some things to take care of. No biggie.”

“Oh, babe, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, putting on a sweet smile for her, “it happens. So, tell me more about this Aimee?”

And Robin does, the adorable nervousness of going on a first date shining through in her words. This Aimee character, though you’ve never met her, seems absolutely wonderful.

Robin manages to spend almost an hour listing her attributes, and another hour just gushing over her. In that time, you manage to piece together a few potential date outfits, weed out some items of clothing that Robin had long since forgotten she owned, and found a few things to borrow from her.

“Ok, I’m thinking this is good?” Robin twirls, flare-leg pants following the movement. The outfit itself is simple enough, and considering they’d decided on a casual movie date, it seems fitting: jeans, a tight-fitting button-up vest, and a turtle-neck underneath that. She looks good, and you have the impression that she feels good too.

“I’m thinking hell yeah, Robs. You look great. I’ll be surprised if Aimee doesn’t jump your bones the second you meet her.”

“You know I never put out on a first date.”

You laugh, and it doesn’t feel as forced as you thought it would.

Spending these few hours with Robin has been lovely. It’s been refreshing, and the weight on your shoulders is lessened some as you say goodbye to her, heading to work.

Everything is good — greyscale, still melancholy, but good — until you walk into the backroom and Matt is standing there and you gasp and Eddie immediately just knows everything. His face falls as he looks between you and Matt, grin disappearing, and no amount of prompting from Nicola drags his attention back to her and the conversation they’d clearly been having before.

With a quick apology in her vague direction, he steps over to you.

You can’t control it, can’t stop it, and luckily Eddie envelops you in a hug before the first tears fall. He manages to manoeuvre you into the small bathroom across from the bar, the resounding click of the lock working as almost a trigger to the sobs fighting free of your throat.

“What’s going on?” Eddie whispers against your head, running a soothing hand through your hair. “Tell me what’s happening, darling?”

“Matt and I…” You don’t manage to finish the sentence, the burning “I walked in on him with another woman” sour in your throat. You don’t have to, though, because Eddie always knows.

Eddie wraps his arms tighter around you, if such a feat were possible with the way he’s already positively squeezing you. “I figured it was something like that when he showed up here, askin’ about you. Sorry I couldn’t get rid of him.”

“S’not your fault, Eds.”

“Maybe, but you’re still my responsibility.”

Your heart soars. “You’re too nice to me,” you say, warmed by his concern as always.

“As nice as you deserve,” he presses his lips to your forehead, “wanna tell me what happened?”

You did, you did, because you wanted the support of your friends and you couldn’t ruin Robin’s date, but now Eddie was here and asking you and it was nice. Your chest bloomed with warmth.

And then bloomed with embarrassment, fear, mortification.

“Just, uh…”

“No judgement,” he said, hands tracing a comforting line up and down your back. And you knew there wouldn’t be, this was Eddie.

You inhaled and exhaled a few times, hoping the action would soothe you, steady you. “Matt, he, uh… we had plans for breakfast, and I got to his this morning… I guess he forgot, or something, and there was this girl there and I…”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. What a dick, I should’ve known you shouldn’t trust him based on his choice of DnD class. I mean, who picks a bard and then plays it straight?”

You giggle, wiping away tears with the palm of your hand with a sniffle. Eddie’s eyes flicker across your face, small grin dimpling his cheek in reflection of your expression. Shame still squeezes your throat, though, choking you up.

Eddie, ever aware of your emotional state, notices. “Is there something else, sweets?”

Before you can answer, Matt’s voice rings through the door, angered. The door creaks as he knocks on it, and Eddie gently moves you behind him.

“The fuck do you want, man?” He yells over the noise, one hand wrapped around your bicep and other spread out in front of him.

Matt’s voice is loud in the silence from the cessation of his action. You shiver, not necessarily scared that he’ll hurt you but worried nonetheless. You don’t want him to shout at you, don’t want to see him mad in your space. Don’t want Eddie to see your reaction at Matt being cross with you.

“Is she in there with you?” Eddie looks down at you, silently asking for the next move.

“Yeah,” you call out, “I’m here.” The three steps to the door feel like a mile, but you manage to reach it and click open the lock. Matt stands there, Nicola behind him, and if you hadn’t spent six months getting to know his habits you’d think the slouched stance he sports is casual. Instead, your eyes focus on his flaring nostrils and clenched fists.

You step away from the door, waving him in. He declines.

Matt is abrasive as he asks, “can he leave?” chin jutting in Eddie’s direction.

It’s impossible to look away from Matt, but you can picture Eddie’s face at this moment — concerned, caring. “I’d rather he not.” When Eddie, behind you, makes a noise as though to disagree, you reiterate the sentiment.

“I’d like him to stay, please."

Matt rolls his eyes, entering the small bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Nicola’s prying eyes look through the crack as it closes, and you don’t blame her for the interest. You just hope the door is thick enough that she can’t hear the conversation to come.

You start, worried that if you wait Matt will explode. “I’m sorry for running away from you today.”

“Not going to apologise for barging into my apartment, no?”

The pebble in your chest grows into a boulder, air leaving your lungs. “I’m sorry for walking in on you.”

“Dude,” Eddie cuts in, “doesn’t matter what she did, you cheated on her.”

Matt’s brows pull together, stress lines marking his forehead. He steps forward once more, hand reaching for yours, and his mouth shapes a grimace when he feels the tremor in your fingers. It looks real, genuine, but his eyes are sharp and dangerous.

“Baby,” Matt implores, “I’m so sorry. It didn’t mean anything to me, she doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s just hard, y’know?”

You nod, a slight movement that brings a frightening sparkle to Matt’s eye. He trails a hand up your arm, embracing you closely, and you let him pull you into the hard planes of his chest.

It feels awkward, sure, Matt’s hugs always do, but it’s the sentiment in the hug that counts.

“Just been hard to not get that kind of attention, baby. You’ve been holding out on me, right? Needed to go to someone else to take care of me, didn’t I?”

Eddie grunts somewhere behind you.

Matt’s words hurt, but on the best of days he makes you feel wanted. Makes you feel desirable, even if you’re not ready for that step. He’s been patient, you think, kind with the way you’re uncomfortable with intimacy.

“Yeah,” you agree, halfheartedly.

“Yeah.” Matt’s arms tighten around you, breath catching in your chest. “You forgive me, right?”

You nod, then vocalise again, “yeah.”

Eddie coughs, and it’s fake in a way that you know is meant to make a point.

Matt lets you go, slightly, just to look over your shoulder at Eddie. From your vantage point pressed against his ribcage, you can only feel as Matt’s muscles prick with the movements of what you’re sure is a silent conversation with him.

Eddie leaves the room, the clunk of his boots only ceasing for a second as he reaches the space where Matt is holding you close. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice pitched low not for the purpose of privacy, but to make it apparent that his words are only for you to respond to.

“‘M okay, Eds. Thank you.”

And Eddie leaves, the door closing softly behind him.

Things were good for two weeks.

Almost as though he were crushed by guilt, Matt played the part of the doting boyfriend with all the vigour of an actor shooting for an Oscar.

Flowers showed up in the backroom every day you had a shift, red roses and lilies, and you’d come back to your flat with him having cooked a meal often enough that you worried for the state of your pans — though, of course, it was the thought that counted, you were tired of spending hours scrubbing the burnt-on food off of them after dinner, as Matt relaxed with a movie.

Still, things were good.

Eddie still checked on you every once in a while, kind touches on the small of your back as you read the little notecard supplied with the flower bouquets; versions of “love you baby”, “would wait forever for you”, “whenever you’re ready”. You’d smile up at him, make an off comment about how kind Matt is, how considerate and thoughtful, and go on with your day.

If only the flowers made you feel as confident in your relationship as Matt seemed to be. He’d show up at least once a day when you were on shift and shower you with praise, go for kisses and hugs even though you were working.

Things were good.

They had to be. Matt was putting in so much effort, trying his absolute best, and yet there was this niggling feeling that something was wrong. Shit, you felt guilty at the thought.

“Baby!” Matt leans over the bartop, lips pursed for a kiss. With a quick look around the limited clientele here at five in the evening, you give him a quick peck and dodge his hand before he can deepen the kiss.

“How was you day, love?”

“Good,” he answers, voice light.

“Good,” you echo, painted smile crinkling the corners of your eyes.

Things were good for two weeks, and it’s the next day when that fortnight ends.

It’s a Saturday. You don’t usually work Saturdays.

You’re only working today because Robin and Aimee are having their sixth date in as many days, swept up in the excitement and nerves of new love. From their first date on that fateful days two weeks ago, they’ve spent nearly every moment possible together.

As a joke, you’d bought Robin a little Hallowe’en present of a tiny U-Haul truck key charm, which both her and Aimee had loved. The keychain became a staple decoration of the checkout counter at the bookstore they both worked in, hanging on a little hook for all to see.

Working closing isn’t particularly familiar to you, having only taken late shifts once or twice in the months spent under Ted’s employment. The basics are obvious: clean the bar, the bar floor, and the backroom; kick out the stragglers. Still, you call up Eddie to chat with him and maybe double check some of the standards.

Normally you’d just ask the other people on shift — Wren and Mindy — but neither of them seemed particularly poised for helping today.

Wren, you’d interacted with before, so you knew they preferred to just stand threateningly in the corner until closing as opposed to interacting with either staff or patrons. You didn’t mind that much, introversion was a trait you managed to share with them most of the time.

Mindy was nice too, and you chalked her lack of willingness to talk to you to the rush of people. It was difficult to get to know someone, after all, when there were rowdy folks yelling after a pint over one another.

And on another level, you’d felt as though you’d seen her before, but it was difficult to place when. Maybe she’d visited the bar once during your shift?

“So, are the toilets usually this bad?” You grit out, utterly disgusted at the toilet paper that has somehow wound up wrapped around each leg of the bathroom stall.

Eddie laughs on the line, “pretty much. Has everyone left?”

“Yeah.” You check the time on your phone quickly, nothing humourlessly that the sun would be rising soon. “Sorry to have woken you up so early.”

Eddie barely lets you finish the apology before interrupting with a fierce, “I was already awake. And anyway, I would’ve woken up just to talk to you.”

You thank any stars still in the early-morning sky that you’re alone in the bathroom, flushed at Eddie’s kindness.

“Insomniac.” You say.

“Slave to the Man,” he rebuts.

“Are you going to have an early night today, then?” You’re asking off-handedly, mostly concerned with cleaning your hands after having to touch — even through gloves — that disgusting mess.

Eddie laughs. “At least pretend that you know me, sweets.”

It’s your turn to chuckle, feeling light despite how bone-tired you are. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning with your three-sugars, half-full of cream, oat milk latte, Eds, to settle this.”

Finished washing up, you tidy away the cleaning supplies and lock down the bathroom. Odd lights are shut off as you scoot around the outer corridor of the bar, the hallway leading to the main serving area.

You hear voices, one you recognise as that of Wren saying their goodbyes and the others as Mindy and, well, someone.

“Are you going straight home after this?” Eddie asks, stealing your attention away from much more consideration of the voices.

“I should.” The heavy wooden door creaks open as you step out of the side hallway.

You gasp.

Eddie’s voice rings out from your phone speaker, but it sounds distorted and fuzzy and wrong.

The breath leaves your lungs in one exhale, one pitiful whimper.

He turns.

Mindy is balanced on his lap, one hand wandering under the hem of his shirt and the other disappearing into his pants. Matt is in no less a compromising position, clearly having been in the process of pulling down her jeans as you had walked in.

Mindy breaks the silence, voice rubbing against some feral, angry part of your brain. “Oh,” she says, “I thought you left.”

I thought you’d left.

“Still here,” you trill, already feeling the prick of fresh tears on your waterline.

You look at Mindy, who looks at Matt, who looks at you. He turns around, faces Mindy, and tucks some hair behind her ear.

“Is this a friend of yours?” he asks her, and you feel chest crack, your heart break. Again.

“I was just leaving,” you direct your words directly at Mindy, “sorry to bother you.”

Things were really good for two weeks.

Matt starts ringing you at midday, and continues to do so until you answer his call.

It’s dinnertime, and you’d managed to rustle up a hearty meal of some grapes, two grilled cheese sandwiches, and a handful of odd cereal you’d found laying about in your cupboard.

“Why haven’t you been answering me?”

You don’t want to talk to him. You don’t. You can hear Eddie’s voice in every corner of your skull saying “no! Don’t do this!”. Robin is chiming in with her two-pence, too, ever and annoyingly right: “this is a bad idea!”

You suppose you don’t owe him this, closure, after he’d managed to betray your trust twice — that you knew of. But you wanted it for yourself. You wanted to be able to talk about Matt as a silly little mistake you’d made in the past and learnt from.

“What do you want, Matt?”

“So sorry, baby.” He sounds tearful, you think, but maybe you’re projecting. You had spent the better half of the morning after returning home curled up in a little ball, overstimulated from equal parts exhaustion and anger at yourself.

You allow his ramble, allow him talk about how shocked he was seeing you there this morning, confused because he didn’t know you were on shift and why didn’t you tell him you were on shift? You should have told him you were working, it’s really an asshole move that you didn’t, so really it’s your fault, anyway.

It’s difficult to interrupt him, but you manage. “Matt, we’re over.”

There’s silence on the line.

“Matt?”

“You can’t do this to me. I’ve been so patient with you, been waiting months and months for you to put out, done everything a good boyfriend is supposed to do. I listen to you whine and mope about mean guys at the bar, don’t say a damn thing when you ask to just cuddle, and when I go see other girls to make up for what you don’t wanna give me you break up with me?”

You’d cry, if you could, but you feel dreadfully empty inside. In lieu of making any more of a fool of yourself than you already have you offer him a quiet “goodbye,” and hang up.

The phone feels heavy in your hand.

The food on your plate is unappetising.

The kitchen light above you is too bright.

You call Eddie.

Eddie shows up as quickly as he always does, heady wafts of cigarette smoke floating under your doorframe far before he knocks on it.

He’s rushing to embrace you when he steps in the room, warm touch so comforting you could die.

“Are y’alright sweets?”

“I think so…” You’re not. “Just kinda sad.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, he didn’t deserve you.”

You can only laugh, self-deprecating, still mad that you’d let yourself get fooled by him, that you believed him when he said it was only a mistake he’d made.

If you were being truly honest, when hurt most was the fact that this all came about as an issue of sex.

More specifically, that you weren’t in any place to have any sort of relations with him. Was there something wrong with you, that you couldn’t find it in you to be sexually attracted to your boyfriend when it was so easy to find comfort in the hands of the man currently squishing you to his chest?

Fucking hell.

“That’s nice of you to say.”

Eddie makes a very noise of disagreement, the sound reverberating in his chest and into your eardrums. “It’s the truth.”

“I’m not sure that’s right, Eds. But I appreciate it.”

He pulls away from you just enough to even a mock-glare your way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shake your head, shrugging. “Just, y’know, no one’s a saint.”

“‘M pretty sure you are, sweets. Saint to put up with me.”

At that, you do cry.

A few weeks pass. You’re dealing as well as you can, which is surprisingly well considering Ted has signed you on for a few more closing shifts — closing shifts with Mindy — so you’d had to watch her and Matt exchange spit often enough.

There had been a point right after the breakup when you’d tried to tell her about you and Matt, but she’d brushed you off with a “you don’t think I knew?” Which, needless to say, had not really improved your working relationship.

Matt hadn't approached you at all during that time, seemingly happy to just let your relationship end with the knowledge that you had nothing more to say to him. Or, maybe he was just happy that he had a girlfriend who was happy to engage in relations with him whenever he wanted it. Whatever.

It was fine though, really. Fine that Matt had been going behind your back for months longer than you’d known, fine that you still had to see him, fine that Mindy didn’t seem to care that he was a rotten old prick.

And fine, most of all, that it was sex that was the final factor in him cheating on you. Not, say, the way you chewed your salads, or the way you insisted upon setting three alarms just to get up in the morning.

Whatever, and just fine and fucking dandy.

“And then she invited me over, and well, I had forgotten that vibe I like-“

“Robin,” you snap back into reality. “I don’t want to hear about your vibrators in the middle of work.”

“But you haven’t been free for coffee lately,” she whines, “when else are we gonna gossip?”

“Just been a little caught up with stuff, y’know?”

Robin’s face falls, hands clasping at her gasping mouth. “Oh my god! I didn’t mean… I know it’s been hard and you take all the time you need to to heal, obviously. I’m not-“

You place a kind hand on her shoulder, interrupting her “you’re okay, honey. I know what you meant. How about you come over Saturday night? We can do a movie, wine, gossip, stay up painting our nails and stuff. Yeah?”

Robin still looks apologetic as she nodes, and you suddenly feel so grateful to have someone missing your appearance in their life this desperately. “Yeah. I feel like we haven’t had a nice shit-talking session for the town bike, either, so this should be super-healing for you.”

You laugh, hugging Robin to you as well as you can over the bartop. “I think I need one of those.”

And it’s Saturday night that you realise you might be attracted to one scraggly-haired Edward Munson.

Robin is sitting across from you, seventh glass of wine clutched loosely between her fingers as she recounts the night of wonderment that was Aimee’s proposal to be official. If you’re being honest, you had thought they were official ages ago, but you also weren’t the kind to turn down a good story.

You hadn’t quite zoned out, still listening in on her excitement, but somehow something she says manages to trigger a memory of that one time Eddie had told you a similar story, and you were spiralling.

You loved Eddie, that much had always been certain. Loved the way he always cheered you up, always called you first to share a funny story he’d just heard some strangers trade on the bus. Loved how kind he was to everyone, loved his sense of humour.

Loved the way he always felt warm and solid and comforting against you, grounding and caring all at once. Loved the way he remembered the little things, like that you always had to tie your shoes a certain way or you feet would go numb, or that you hated gloves and preferred mittens.

Loved him utterly and deeply.

Platonically, of course.

So just maybe you were attracted to him.

Shit.

But…

Maybe you could use this. If you loved him, platonically, of course, and trusted him, and were attracted to him, perhaps you could get over some dam in your brain that hadn’t let you take that last step with Matt.

It was a good idea, right?

Right?

Monday morning you were starting to think differently, but you’d resolved to at least ask him. Eddie got around, you knew that. He’d told you plenty about the many girls he took home by virtue of being a bartender in a band.

This would be just like that, except he’d also be doing you a favour. Right?

Right.

So, you’d cornered him at the start of your shift and asked him to take a smoke break with you — he’d looked at you funny, as you didn’t smoke, but followed you out nonetheless.

“So?” He probed, the second the door pressed closed behind you.

You take a steadying breath. “Wanted to talk with you about something.”

Eddie “mhm’s” at you, lighting a smoke and sticking it between his lips.

“Eds, I…” you start, fear drying your throat and making your words all sticky. “I want to ask you something.”

Eddie makes a small noise of assent, urging you to carry on with a movement of his head down to catch your eye. You turn away, too embarrassed to look directly at him, and clear your throat.

“Could you… so, you know how I’ve been with Matt? He, uh… he wanted to,” you make a nonsensical gesture with your hands, self-soothing and meaningless, “y’know and I just never could and I was thinking if I did do it with someone it would be easier to do it in a relationship next time and I really trust you so I was hoping…” you trail off at the incredulous look on Eddie’s face.

A few seconds pass, neither you nor him saying anything, and you begin stuttering out an apology when he grasps your hands. His voice is muffled slightly by the cigarette sticking out the corner of his mouth.

“Are you asking me to… to have sex with you?”

Your face warms, humiliation running through your veins. “Sort of? I’m asking you to take my virginity, Eds. I think that might be the problem.”

“Oh.” As mortifying as it is, you manage to glance up at him. You find him already watching your face, eyes flickering across its span to read your expression. Instead of disgust, or anger, however, he replies with “are you sure?”

“I trust you,” is your immediate response. It takes no thought, that had all been expended these past few weeks after your breakup with Matt, after your assessment of who Matt — who Eddie — was to you. Even if Eddie didn’t care for you in the way you did him, you wanted it to be him to do this. You wanted to have this memory with him.

“If this is just because of Matt…”

“It’s not. It’s not.”

“Okay.”

“You’re sure?”

Eddie exhales sharply, extinguishing his cig on the wall beside you before crushing it under his boot. “Sure I’m sure, sweets.”

And that’s the last thing said on the subject for the next three days.

It’s a slow night, tonight. Small crowd, just the regulars who liked to show their support for a small local business, or something like that. Maybe it was just the draw of liquor after a week of working, but you preferred to believe that the number of regulars recently had to do with your dazzling personality.

Eddie slips in next to you, hand finding a loop in your apron to brace his thumb on. “I wanna take you out,” he says, and the surprise at his words almost makes you drop the cocktail you’ve been shaking. For a split second, you truly do believe that he’s asking you out, before remembering your conversation from earlier this week.

And, okay. Maybe since you’d had that chat you’d come to the realisation that you might have the smallest, tiniest, minusculest crush on him. But that wouldn’t change anything, because Eddie didn’t like you like that. So he’d do you this favour and you’d find someone else and you’d be able to go back to being friends.

Still, your response is less-that-intelligent. “What?”

“If I’m going to be the one to take care of you for the first time, I wanna do it right, y’know?”

“You don’t have to do that, Eds. This isn’t like a,” you search for the words, mind and body betraying logic with the way they absolutely preen at the thought of him taking you out. “This isn’t like a,” you start again, swallowing around a lump happily lodging itself in your throat, “dating thing. It’s really not necessary.”

Eddie makes a sound of disapproval, but you can’t imagine what he’d have to argue with. It’s a sound thought, as this was an unemotional matter for the both of you. Mostly.

You manage to finish the cocktail, garnish it, run it over to the forty-something pretty woman in the corner who was clearly going through something dour, and return to start on another drink before Eddie says anything more.

“Please?” He asks, brown eyes large and pleading.

There’s not a bone in your body that can resist him at his most annoying, and the doe-like quality of his features right now is rendering you to barely-functional goop.

“Okay,” you finally nod, trying to quell the beating of your heart. Even though you know this is just Eddie helping you to the best of his abilities, it does nothing to stifle the want blossoming inside your chest.

It’s Saturday night again. You could almost laugh at the coincidence; it’s been a week since grand revelations, and here you are getting ready for a sort-of date.

It’s getting dark already, and somehow you feel more stressed than you have done since you met Eddie for the first time. Not even your first date with Matt rendered you such a mess, and that in and of itself was scary enough as your first venture into the dating world.

You dust off your dress again, the polyester-blend as clean of lint as it had been the last five times you had done so. The selection at your local shops had been slim on clothing in your style, so you had ended up wearing an old dress you’d bought once for a college party.

It's nice, overall, if unimpressive. A dark red, the neckline dipped low enough that you’d had to buy new undergarments specifically for it and its bodycon silhouette. You’d decided to just go all out and buy nice lingerie too. Go big or go home, right?

It would be untrue to say you were regretting the choice now, because the lace bralette and underwear lay nicely on your body and were soft to the touch, but it could definitely be said that you were rethinking it. Would Eddie find it too presumptuous? Too forward? Would he think that you were implying this was something more?

Well, you supposed it would be, to you, but he didn’t need to know that.

You could dwell in the thoughts circling your mind, endless and restless and quite frankly annoying, but a knock at your door struck you from your train of thought.

Eddie stood behind it, grinning as widely as ever. His dimples stood out against his cheeks, and he was beautiful. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes unable to focus on just one thing to admire.

He had made even more of an effort today than you had, band tee replaced by a deep red dress shirt, ripped jeans traded for straight-leg dress pants. His chain-linked wallet sticks oddly out of his pocket, hanging on to a belt loop. Through all this, though, he still wears a well-loved leather jacket.

It’s impossible for you to look him in the eyes, mind too invested in the sinful stretch of material across the meat of his thighs. The fact that him wearing fancy clothing marginally less tight than normal has you more pent up that seeing him in his customary skinnies is somewhat curious to you, but it’s something to assess when you’re alone in your room some other night.

“And to think I was going to go with the black one,” Eddie says, striking you out of your stupor.

“Hm?”

“Black shirt. Good thing I wore the red one instead,” he gestures at your dress, then back at his shirt, and dips his head to meet your eyes. You blink at him blankly, images of his lean muscles showing through tight fabric still pervading your thoughts.

You watch his eyebrows draw together, worry lining his features. “Are you still sure about this?”

Unable to vocalise a response for fear of telling him just how sure you are, you nod.

“Gonna need you to tell me, sweets.”

With a shaky voice, you manage a slight “yeah.”

Eddie quirks a brow, clearly looking for more of an answer.

“Yes, yes I’m still sure.” You take a steadying breath, smiling at him for the first time this evening.

He nods, reaching out a hand to you. Its rough callouses feel warm against your skin, inviting. His kind eyes look down into yours, and any anxiety you’d felt before leaves at the care in them. He pulls you out the door towards him.

“You’re right,” you say, mind finally caught up to what Eddie had said before. “It is funny you picked a shirt the same colour as my dress.”

Eddie gives you an amused smile, not quite laughing at you but not quite just laughing either. “Some would call it fate.”

“I call it similar taste in fashion,” you joke, then remember that your hand is still holding tight to his. Using the excuse of locking your door behind you, you let it drop back to his side and turn away. “So, where are we going tonight?”

“Can’t tell you that, sweets.”

“This feels very much like the start to a Forensic Files episode, Eds.”

He chuckles, slinging an arm around your waist as you face him once more. Using the grip on you, he pulls you down your flat hallway, to the lift, and into the front car park.

A motorcycle is waiting for you there, the only vehicle you don’t recognise.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Eddie asks as you walk up to it.

“Very nice,” you nod, eyes roving the metal appraisingly.

Eddie takes a helmet out from some compartment in the bike, handing it to you. When you look at it dumbly, he makes a motion of question and at your permission secures it on your head.

His fingers are gentle as he closes the clasps under your chin. “Wasn’t asking you.”

Before you can say anything at all, he closes the visor of your helmet. The motion shocks you into silence, not least because of his words prior to it.

And before you can manoeuvre the visor up, Eddie’s already got his helmet on and is sitting comfortably against the bike, hands spread as though to tell you he’s waiting. You suddenly feel very grateful that you decided on boots for this occasion instead of heels.

It’s somewhat hard to get up behind him, your balance always having been askew. Eddie helps you, hand placed firmly on your arm and waist to lift you upwards. When you’ve made it up, you’re not sure what to do with your hands. There’s no seatbelts here, no handles to grasp. Thankfully, Eddie, ever aware of your moods, takes your hands in his and settles them securely around his lithe waist.

Your face warms. For all the times you’ve heard about riding with someone on a bike (once… you’d heard of it once, and it had been from Robin, who had gone on a date with a biker chick in her experimental phase) you’d never expected this to be so intimate.

Your heart pounds at the proximity to him, fingers itching with the need to trace along the clasps and contours of his leather jacket, consumed by the hope they might feel what lays underneath it.

How were you supposed to breathe under these conditions?

“Ready?” Eddie says, and it takes him squeezing your hand to realise he’s asking you.

You make a “mhm” of agreement, then remember his words from earlier. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

And he revs the engine, the harsh motor sounds louder than you had anticipated them to be. Everything lurches forward and you fall flush against him, arms tightening around his waist with the fear that you’ll fall.

Eddie chuckles, and as sad as you are that you can’t hear it, can’t see the way the action lights up his face, you do have to admit that it’s an entirely different experience to feel the reverberations in his chest.

“How far away is this place?” You ask, and it takes you five tries, as you zoom through chock-blocked streets and near-empty alleys, to realise that Eddie can’t really hear you over the rushing wind.

The drive to… wherever… is short, barely five minutes. You’re not sure where you are, and you’re also not sure you can let go of Eddie. Your arms feel stuck to him with glue, and you distantly wonder if he will be able to scrape you off him.

“We’re here,” Eddie says, voice a husk from the frost lacing the air.

When Eddie steps closer to you, the streetlights bouncing off his helmet in a way that haloes him and creates the silhouette of an alien. Almost as though he can sense the thought, Eddie flips up both of your visors and grins at you.

His fingers, gloved and leathery, trail up your neck in a touch reminiscent of a kiss. You lean into it, into his careful touches moving towards the clasp secured under your chin. He’s much slower undoing it than he had been closing it, and you’re almost tipsy with the contact.

The helmer finally comes free, sliding up and over your head. Eddie chuckles, helps you fix some fly away hair strands, and takes his own off.

“Where’s here?” You ask as a way to distract from the heat blossoming in your chest. Maybe to also distract from the flaring burn rushing your veins at the leftover sensation of his touch.

Eddie shrugs, “somewhere.”

There’s a few shops on the street he’s decided to park on, a few restaurants that look relatively inviting. Music streams out from a few of them, interior lights spilling onto the pathways and road that paints this part of the town in shadow.

“C’mon, Eds,” you beg, “tell me?”

He sighs theatrically, and it’s with his entire body. “There’s this nice Mexican spot here. Thought you’d like it.”

“That sounds lovely. Which way?”

He lights up with a giant grin, dimples stark against his cheeks, and offers you his elbow with gentlemanly courtesy. You take it, giggling, and feel that rush of excitement in your throat that’s nothing less than juvenile and pure.

The small restaurant is nice, and the smells wafting from it are nothing less than inviting. There’s music spilling from the open door, too, light and joyous.

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to secure you a table, and your waiter comes over promptly to introduce himself. He seems happy to see Eddie, who seems less happy to see him.

“I didn’t know you were working tonight,” Eddie says, fingers tapping the table.

“I’m Steve,” the waiter tells you, hair quaff bouncing as he turns away from whatever eye-contact battle him and Eddie had been having.

Steve leans again smiles kindly when you tell him your name, and then connect the dots.

“Steve? Like, Robin’s Steve? Like, Platonic Love of Robin’s Life, Steve?”

He laughs, “yeah, I mean. I think so. How can I get you two started?”

You turn to Eddie, who’s already looking at you, and ask him his opinion; you figure he has at least an idea of what’s good given he knows Steve.

And he does, ordering several small dishes that he praises highly. Neither of you drink, Eddie because he’s driving and you because you’re dead stressed about getting back on his bike — worried that if you drink you’ll lose your balance or something and fall off it as he drives.

Dinner passes so wonderfully, brilliantly, amazingly well that you almost forget this is just a plot to get laid by someone you trust. Steve comes by a few more times, complimenting you on your outfit and sharing a few stories you’re sure you can use to blackmail Robin.

Before you know it, Eddie is pulling you with a tight — but gentle — grip on your hand and leading you out the door.

You assume this means the end of the date.

You’re wrong.

Eddie, still holding you by the hand, pulls you down the main street to a little shop filtering warm light onto the pavement. It’s beautiful, if somewhat run-down looking, the paint peeling and flaking off the open door knocking lightly against the opposite wall with the breeze.

“What is this place?” The words aren’t quite breathless, but something close, suddenly very aware that this street is fairly empty and as attracted as you are to Eddie, you have no proof he’s not a murderer.

He smiles at you, winks. “Saw you reading a tattered copy of The Colour of Magic one day, so I figured I’d get you a new copy. Where better than the best bookshop on this side of the ocean?”

Oh wow.

Actually, that’s not intense enough to cover the pounding of your heart and the weakness you’re feeling in your knees.

Oh fuck me, is decidedly better.

“You didn’t have to…”

“It’s family owned, which I thought you’d like. Samara is at home today but if you like it here I can bring you back sometime. To meet her, that is.”

Never mind, actually, because even “fuck” isn’t strong enough to cover the whirlwind of emotions spitting through your head.

Eddie’s looking at you, so kindly, and you need to answer him somehow but you really can’t. This might just be the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you, definitely the nicest thing a man has ever done for you, and the words just won’t work in your mouth.

Eddie, angel he is, asks if everything is alright and you can only nod for fear that if you do try to say something you’ll start crying right in front of him.

“That’s really kind of you, Eddie.”

He grins, says “only the best for you,” and beckons you into the bookstore with him.

It’s as beautiful within as it was externally, dark oak shelves lining every wall of the small building. There’s a smell of old tomes in the air, floral, woody, and it feels like a promise of home.

“I know I said I brought you here for good old Pratchett, but you can go wild if you want.” He’s causal when he says it, and you’re surprised at it.

You eyes go wide. “Eds, I can’t ask you to buy books for me,” you lower your tone, eyes examining your surroundings in case of an eavesdropper. “They’re expensive.”

Eddie laughs.

“To ease your mind, let’s say I get a family discount.”

“Eddie…”

“Come on, let me treat you.”

He buys you The Colour of Magic, and one more book that he’d been adamant you’d enjoy. He almost looks disappointed when you refuse to let him pay for more, treat you more, but you’re stubborn and he’s too engrossed in the look in your eyes to argue back.

You’re floating on pure joy all the way back to his apartment. Everything feels light, even the lengthy books stuffed in your bag.

There’s some level of dread that scratches at the back of your throat when Eddie parks, but you logic it out of your mind with the knowledge that you trust and love him so deeply. And nothing that happens tonight — or any other night — could change that.

You make it inside lightening-quick, worried to seem too eager, but encouraged on by Eddie’s wide smile.

He fumbles with the keys to his front door, fingers shaking with what you hope is nervous anticipation. It doesn’t really make a difference, when your own muscles are quaking in excitement.

You make it inside, and Eddie helps you shuck off your boots before latching onto you in a searing press of his lips against yours.

It’s explosive kissing him, gentle and kind and passionate all at once.

It’s suddenly very difficult to remember that he’s doing this by request, that this evening had not just occurred naturally.

Somehow, amidst the kissing, you make it back to his room. You’ve been here before, hanging out before concerts at one pub or another, but its atmosphere is so different this time.

Eddie’s arm slides around your waist, hand splaying against your back as you lie on his plush bed. His mouth travels down, down, over your neck and to the dip in your dress.

You lean up, hands winding into his hair, pushing him back towards your mouth. He groans against you, restless hands trailing your body and catching on your invisible zipper.

Your hands push his away, pulling it down and welcoming him between your legs. The dress catches on your elbow as you pull it over your head, and Eddie giggles. The sound draws heat to your cheeks, temporary embarrassment flushing you.

“Need some help with that, sweets?”

You nod, then realise he probably can’t see you, and whisper “yes.”

He laughs agains, peeling the finicky dress up and off you. “Hi,” he smiles, eyes flickering between yours as the fabric finally falls away from your face.

“Hi,” you giggle back, giddy and excited despite yourself.

Eddie kisses you again, hand wrapped around the back of your neck. He leads you to lie back on the bed, hair spread across his pillow and thighs caging his narrow hips in.

Sitting back, he looks down at you and sighs. His eyes are heated as they flicker across your form, especially appreciative of the assets pointedly left on display by the lacy lingerie just barely covering your modesty.

You stare up at him, waiting for his next move, unsure of what you’re supposed to be doing.

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he rolls away to lie beside you on the bed. Everything collapses around you.

“I can’t do this. I… I’m really sorry, sweets. But I can’t.”

Tears well in your eyes, but you still manage to reach a comforting hand towards his form. You rub circles into the flesh there, “it’s okay, Eds. It’s a lot to ask of you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.” You gather your dress, the shoes you had dropped somewhere along the way, and leave.

You manage to make it to the lobby of his apartment before the waterworks start, painful sobs wracking your chest and squeezing your lungs. Half the pain comes from holding back the mournful sounds rising in your throat like bile — careful not to worry the kindly older woman walking towards to lift with your emotional state.

The other half of the pain comes from the pang of rejection that echos in your heart, crushing and somehow expected all at once. You can’t blame Eddie for it, can’t get mad at him, can’t fault him for the massive bruise on your ego. This was a favour between friends, and the consent of both parties was important above all.

Still, though, it hurts to be here in this moment. It hurts to know that tomorrow night you’ll have to see him again in work after the evening you’d shared. For all the tears running spilling over your cheeks and running down your neck, your heart still yearns for a few hours ago when Eddie had been holding you to him, looking at you as though you meant the world and the stars.

So, needless to say, you enjoyed a large bowl of ice cream and some wine when you finally arrived home.

And you enjoyed a nice sleep-in the next day, as well as a nice scroll through various social medias. When that got boring, you napped, then read some good, old, supportive fanfiction. Then napped again. Then dodged a call from a friend, and ate an exquisite meal of grilled cheese before your television while rewatching that comfort show for the fifth time.

The next day passed much the same, though with an inclusion of several miscalls from Eddie. It’s slightly harder to fall back into a groove of not thinking about him after you see the notifications, but you still manage well enough to put him out of your mind for the rest of the day. Even your sleep remains dreamless, thankfully.

All things considered, the weekend passes well enough. You spend less than five hours thinking about Eddie, and less than three crying about the sting of his dismissal. The confidence, then, that you’re fine now, over it, keeps you warm as you walk to work on Monday.

Any faked pep in your step tides you through the front door, through the bar space, and truly does last until you enter the backroom and see Eddie. His smile, as per usual, greets you, and you’re keenly aware that it’s only you two standing within the room at the moment.

You test a smile, even if your ribcage feels as though it’s collapsing in on you. It feels wrong. Too wide, too sharp, too tense.

Eddie notices, of course he does. He winces, makes a move as though to step closer to you, and stands still. Well, as still as Eddie can manage, because even with muscles rigid he’s in motion; arms swinging by his sides in what could be read as careless, but you know is just from nerves.

Neither of you speaks.

Ted, your never-present boss, walks in.

Ted does the talking for both of you, plenty of it, about his wife and kids and the fourteenth birthday party his son is asking for — no theme, dad, if you’d believe it, as though he didn’t beg for a superhero party just last year — and he makes a point to mention how tired you look today. You tell him it’s just schoolwork that’s got you staying up late, recently, that it’ll pass. You promise that you’ll get some sleep tonight, and leave the backroom.

Eddie tries to catch your eye as you pass, and fails.

A while week goes by like this, the only change being that you’ve elected to come to work later so as to avoid Eddie. You did try to beg Ted to give you more closing shifts, but it had turned out that his nephew needed a job to save up for “his first Valentine’s with a girl” — or something — and that took precedence over your unsure excuses. When Ted had begun prying — was something wrong between you and Eddie? — you’d quickly shut him down and shrugged the entire ordeal off.

Whatever.

It’s not like it could get worse between you and Eddie. He was practically hanging off Nicola at this point which, well, was good. Maybe if he and Nicola got together you could get over your silly little crush on him, and the cut of rejection that it had made feel so much deeper.

You doubted it, though. Truly and genuinely.

Because even with staying away from him, being barely civil, there was only an insurmountable love running through your veins. It hurt to be away from him, but it hurt, too, to be around him.

And because you were a grown-ass woman with a grown-ass sense of emotional intelligence, you took the smart path and avoided him.

Mostly.

“Can I talk to you?” Eddie slips in next to you by the bartop, leaning so he can look you in the eye.

You try to look anywhere else but at him, you do, but somehow he manages to get close enough that his face fills up your entire view, his puppy-dog-eyes front and centre. And fuck, man, stronger people than you wouldn’t able to hold out against him.

You nod.

Eddie beckons you to the back alleyway, patrons filling the bar in a way that presumes the toilet isn’t the best place for privacy right now.

You follow him. He lights a cigarette, leans back on the wall. His fingers are jittery, tapping, tapping, tapping against any surface they can. His rings clink as they rub against each other, catching sunset-light and shining it across the bricks of the alley walls.

He speaks, and his voice is broken. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not,” is your instant response, because even if you are, you’re not doing it for the fun of things.

He gives you an incredulous look, eyebrows raised so far they disappear into his fringe. Some smoke blows out of his mouth, just the corner, because his fingers are too busy moving incessantly to remove the cigarette.

You’ll compromise, “maybe a little.”

“Maybe a lot-le.”

“Just, uh…” words are disappearing from your mind at an alarming rate, and really you’d be worried about why if you were anywhere else but here, with anyone else but him. “Just wanted to give you some space. Figured you’d want that after…” it’s a little pathetic, honestly, how you can’t even string enough words together to finish the sentence. Bile rises in your mouth, bitter and acidic and anxious. “After what happened.”

Eddie’s speechless, you think. His fingers stop their dancing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, just like he did that night, and you don’t think you can stomach him saying it again.

“Please stop apologising.”

“I-” He starts, then stops. He’s back in motion, suddenly, toe of his boot scuffing the dusty ground in front of him.

“I asked a lot of you, Eds. It’s fine. It’s not your fault it got to be…” your stomach is doing cartwheels, “too much for you.”

Eddie drops the cigarette, squishes it with his boot, and runs a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t… I wasn’t.”

“It’s really okay, Eddie. I forgive you, if that’s what you need.” And suddenly you feel like crying again, and it sucks, because you thought you’d done that enough these past few days. Whatever’s going on in your stomach spreads upwards, towards your chest, and it’s like a crippling punch. You barely manage not to double over with the way the pain spreads throughout your muscles, flares against your skull.

“I-”

“Please, Eds. Leave me be.” As you turn to re-enter the bar, strands of your hair stick to the wetness coating your cheeks.

Eddie mumbles a soft “fuck” behind you, and you hear his movements before you can feel his presence step closer. He stops just short of you, not touching you but reaching a hand around to close the door before you can open it.

“I couldn’t fuck you because I’m in love with you.” You imagine he whispers the words due to your proximity, but it sounds like yelling. Blood thrums in your ears. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” You don’t turn around, you can’t, because you don’t want to see if this is just some huge ill-timed Eddie-typical joke.

“I just… I couldn’t have you, and then lose you, y’know? Which sounds so shitty and misogynistic and fuck, I know that, but I’ve just been thinking about it for so long and then I saw you and you were looking up at me and I-”

The word vomit stops, and it takes you a second to realise why. You come to your senses when you feel Eddie’s lips against yours, soft and gentle as you remember.

Finally, your brain manages to reason that you must’ve turned around and kissed him.

You step back from him, and the tears keep coming. Eddie’s hand reaches up, fingers hesitant as they reach towards your cheeks.

“That was really shitty of you,” you say, and as happy as you are that Eddie likes you, loves you, even, you can’t forget the blow your ego took when Eddie had you vulnerable before him and rejected you. “It really hurt, Eddie. Like, a lot. I trusted — I mean, I still do trust — you, and I opened myself up to you, and you just…” destroyed me, devastated me, made me feel unworthy, “it hurt.”

“I can only imagine, lovely. I’m so-”

“Don’t apologise again. Please.” You meet Eddie’s eyes, and everything hurts. You’re so, so, happy, and so, so sad.

Eddie nods, then moves again. His motions are slow, questioning, and careful as he wraps his arms around you. He’s comforting against you, solid and caring and so much your Eddie that your heart skips a beat.

He’s whispering against your hair, uncaring of the tear-stains drenching his shirt. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, sweets. I don’t want you to. Gotta earn back your trust. Gotta show you I deserve you first.”

A/N: Thank you for reading this mess! I will let this fade into obscurity if it comes to that bc I couldn't sleep without getting it down in a doc, and I suggest you do the same. Or don't, I don't control you (or do I?). The amount of brainrot I still have for this man is actually embarrassing.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson my beloved #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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munson-blurbs · 2 years

Note

Hi! I hope you’re well.

Gn!reader bruises their hand at work and Eddie tries everything to make them feel better.

(I bruised two of my fingers at work earlier and I need something to cheer me up)

I hope you’re feeling better!

Warnings: language, injury (nothing gruesome or gory by any means), gn!reader

WC: 626

“Shit, shit, SHIT!” you cry out as the box of records you’re placing on a high shelf comes sliding back toward you. If any of the merchandise is damaged, you’re fired, and you’re not about to lose your income due to your own clumsiness. You hoist the heavy crate back up just in time, slamming your pointer and middle fingers into the shelf as you do.

You pull back quickly, shaking out your injured hand. Thankfully, the records stay secured so you can tend to your throbbing fingers, but not without first yelling, “Fuck!” so loudly that you worry customers will be able to hear you over the music pumping through the store.

The storage room door swings open and you cringe, expecting your douchebag boss to berate you for using such foul language, even though he insists on playing the most explicit songs over the store speakers.

“You all right in here?” It’s not your boss, but rather your co-worker, Eddie Munson. He peeks his head in, worry creasing his forehead.

“Got into a fight with some records and, uh,” you grimace as you hold up your hand, “the records won.”

“Ouch,” he hurries over to you to inspect the damage, “been there, done that. Let me take a look?” It comes out like a question, but he doesn’t wait for an answer as he gently takes your throbbing fingers in the palm of his own hand.

“What’s my prognosis?” you joke, wincing as he moves your fingers. “Am I gonna need an amputation?”

“I think I got here just in time,” Eddie plays along, tone more serious than you’ve ever heard from him, and you feel a smile form on your face despite the pain. “Nah, nothing broken. Prob’ly gonna leave a sick bruise, though. Don’t worry, it’ll look totally metal.” He smiles back at you warmly.

“Oh, well, as long as it looks cool, who cares if I can never use this hand again?”

Eddie lets your hand go and rummages around the storage room. “Should be a first aid kit here somewhere...” he mutters, tossing random papers and receipts aside. He grabs a plastic Red Cross container and pulls out an ice pack, the kind you have to crack before it actually gets cold. He gets it ready for you and grabs a thin concert tee from a box and wraps it over the pack.

“Here ya go,” he hands the bundle to you and you accept it with a small smile.

“Thanks, Eddie,” you say shyly. “I should probably get back to work now before I get in trouble.”

“Wait,” Eddie stops you, placing a hand on your shoulder. His touch is comforting as he moves his hand from your upper arm to your aching fingers, bringing them to his lips.

“You gonna kiss it better?” You try to keep your tone light and joking, but you can’t ignore the way your heart pounds in your chest. It’s so loud that you worry he’ll hear it.

“If you think it’ll help,” he replies, pressing a soft kiss to your fingers. You let out a small hiss at the contact, but you have to admit that it does feel a little better.

“Eddie! Y/N!” your boss’s irritating screech reaches your ears, ruining the moment completely. “You two wanna actually work? Or maybe you can spend time together in the unemployment line!”

“We should, uh, get back out there,” you mutter, placing the ice pack back on your injury.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, opening the door for you and gesturing for you to go first. “Just, um, let me know if you think you need any more medical attention.”

You laugh. “Will do, Munson.”

“That’s Doctor Munson to you.”

#answered #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #blurb #eddie munson blurb #requests

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edgyandoverzealous · 2 years

Text

If I ever say I'm thinking about Steve Harrington I mean... (Pt 1.)

• Steve Harrington's empty house and blank bleak basic room.

•Steve Harrington's awful parents.

• Steve Harrington doing anything to avoid being in said blank bleak basic empty house. Aka Steve chauffering everyone around. Robin, the kids, Eddie, any of his friends.

• Steve Harrington going from hosting parties to hosting movie nights, birthday parties, and get togethers.

• Steve Harrington sitting in his unpersonalized barely lived in room listening to his parents scream at each other whenever they come home.

•Steve Harrington sneaking out his window because he'll be damned if he's gonna stick around while his parents are there screaming at each other or after all the shit of the upside down.

• Steve Harrington going to Robin's house, eyes bloodshot and shaking, throwing pebbles at her window after A, a nightmare or B, his parents came home and he can't be there anymore.

• Stobin Platonic with a capital P cuddling post season 3 to deal with the nightmares which worsened after season 4.

• Steve Harrington, in any AU where Eddie is still alive, going to his house if Robin is out of town or didn't answer his pebble throwing.

• Steve Harrington being little spooned by Eddie because The King Steve had never looked so small and lost as he did crying on the Munson's porch and he's practically clinging to Eddie at this point.

• Steve Harrington who can learn anything with a little push and occasional ass kicking.

• Steve Harrington with head trauma and being concussion prone/accident prone.

•Steve Harrington who even though he's killed monsters let's himself be beaten up because at this point he's practically trained to kill when fighting.

• Steve Harrington who despite this will go full scary dog privilege for anyone who needs it in his makeshift family.

• Steve Harrington who is so self sufficient that he doesn't know how to ask for help and whenever someone tries he shuts down.

• Steve Harrington with glasses.

• Steve Harrington moving in with Robin, Nancy(with or without both are great), and Eddie roommate AUs

• Domestic Steve Harrington trying to one up his neighbors because he does want that picket fence life and God damn it he will be better than Suzan across the street and her gross-ass lemon squares.

• Steve Harrington comforting his group of "weird" teenage friends.

• Steve Harrington caring for his group of "weird" teenage friends

• Steve Harrington and his group of "weird" teenage friends.

• Steve Harrington in any post Hawkins au where he refers to to any of the kids as his siblings. Bonus points if Hopper is called Dad and he makes visits to check on Steve.

• Steve Harrington getting kicked out and cut off by his parents and running to Eddie's.

• Alternatively Steve Harrington getting kicked out and cut off by his parents but only Robin knows and she is sworn into secrecy. Bonus points if Eddie is alive, snoops and finds out, and then helps out in subtle ways.

• Steve Harrington being claimed into the Munson family because Wayne can't stand that kicked puppy look in Steve's eyes everytime he has to go home.

• Steve Harrington liking being called "pretty boy" because by now he has so many scars and it makes him feel worthy.

•Steve Harrington's judgy face when he bites his cheek and pipes down but you know he wanted to say some bullshit.

• Steve Harrington's questions and how everyone but Eddie seemed annoyed by him and how he's probably scared to ask for or about anything.

• Steve Harrington teacher/daycare worker AUs

• Steve Harrington coffee shop AUs. Bonus points if co-owned by Robin.

• Steve Harrington figuring out he's not straight and laying out hooks to see if who he likes likes him back.

•Steve Harrington who even though he throws out hooks can never figure out what responses mean so he just keeps it up until they lose interest or say something.

• Steve Harrington the hopeless romantic with a notebook full of date ideas.

• Steve Harrington who despite this notebook always seems to have something go awry on his dates and has a curse of being dumped before the year mark.

#stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #steve harrington #steve harrington my beloved #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington has bad parents #he just like me fr #i won't shut up about him

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hellfireheroes · 5 months

Text

‘My nephew is innocent.’

Gif above credit

Short summary:

Hard working and gruff, Wayne Munson is a true worker. Taking in his scrawny and damaged nephew, he raised Eddie by the seat of his pants. Barely having any knowledge to raise a child, he did his best to care for Eddie and remains loyal to his family even through the face of tragedy.

Wayne loves his family. Loves Eddie. Will do anything to keep him safe.

And even facing a few nasties from another dimension? Hell, get him his shotgun.

🚬 Basic information 🚬

Name: Wayne Munson.

Age: 54.

Height: 5’9.

Birthday: August 21 1931.

Zodiac: Leo.

Pronouns: he/him.

Gender: male.

Sexuality: Gay.

Species: Human.

Race: White.

Languages: English.

Appearance:

Gif above credit

Hardened by work and life, Wayne is a rough looking man in his 50s. Aged in denim and flannel, Wayne embodies a hard worker in his everyday look.

Silver hair and beard, wrinkles in his skin and hands with calluses. He mainly wears denim and flannel. Boots and belts with leather ties him to his roots in Tennessee.

Personality:

Alignment: Lawful Neutral, leaning towards good.

Archetypes: The Caregiver, The Sage, The Everyman.

Type: ISTJ, The Inspector.

Wayne is very reserved and quiet though, that doesn’t mean he’s not capable of interaction. Tending to take information and process it before action, Wayne is a no nonsense kind of man. Taking the truth over gossip most, he values information highest from the source.

Despite his gruff and weathered look, Wayne is a softie. He loves deep and powerful enough to move mountains.

Backstory:

Growing up in Tennessee with his younger brother Allan, Wayne was the man of the house to his mother and Eddie’s grandmother, Barbra Munson. Before she married her husband, Wilson Munson and widowed, Wayne was raised to value hard work and to provide for the family as the Man. Raised by Wilson to hold family above anything else.

Wayne was the more hands on of the two whilst Al was the dreamer.

At the age of 17, Wayne was shipped off to war. Returning at the age of 24, Wayne settled down in Hawkins, Indiana and retired from the military. He got a job in the factory and bounced from place to place as he settled in. He kept in touch with Al and soon learned of his Nieces existence.

Wayne adored her.

He held her and fed her to give Al and his wife a break. He made sure Edith had comfort and always brought a toy for her when he visited.

The drug issue with Al got worse as time progressed and he fought and argued with Al to clean up his act and get it together.

Then Eddie’s mom died.

Wayne felt the shift in Al that day, the fights got worse and Al said some words Wayne’s sure he didn’t mean.

Edith was neglected and abused.

And then Al was arrested.

Wayne took Edith in and gave her a fresh start. A new name, a new identity on a shiny new ID. Theodore was born and soon, became Eddie.

Wayne did his best to raise Eddie in a loving home, giving up his bedroom for his nephew and slept on the couch in the living room until he could afford a pullout bed. Life was good.

Eddie got excited for grocery day and was able to pick out something each time just for himself.

As the years progressed, Wayne gifted Eddie music records and tapes for his birthday and Christmas. He watched Eddie in school plays and the talent shows.

He was there when Eddie was outed for being gay and held back.

He was there for it all when Al wasn’t.

1983

He and Eddie spent hours searching for Will.

Will was found and Barbra was found dead due to a chemical spill.

Wayne didn’t buy it.

1984

The pumpkins began to rot and the fields began to rot.

Bad pesticide, they say.

Wayne didn’t buy it.

1985

The mall burns down.

Billy Hargrove and Jim Die.

A fluke in the wiring.

Bullshit.

1986

A girl is dead in his trailer and his nephew is missing.

Wayne has never been so scared in his life. He talks to reporters, talks to the police and tells them what he knows. That his nephew is innocent. He wouldn’t hurt anyone like this.

He’s kept in the dark. Moved to a motel.

Then Dustin Henderson comes to him after the earthquake and gives him his nephews pick.

Wayne breaks.

Wayne breaks hard.

He asks the boy for the truth, what really happened.

Dustin answers.

Post canon

Wayne joins the crew to stop Vecna. He is momentarily angry at the boy for lying about his Eddie in the hospital but he understands. He stays with Eddie every day as he sleeps and offers his help in taking the sonovabitch down.

He reunited with Joyce and Jim, the 3 having a quiet morning to discuss what to do.

Eddie wakes up and Wayne goes into hell to kill the monster who hurt his boy and his friends.

Vecna is defeated.

Wayne and Eddie are gifted a massive trailer and with the ruins of their old one, they rebuild.

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motomamita · 2 years

Text

You

Part.1 Part.2 Part.3

Pairing: Yandere!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Eddie meets (y/n) at work and falls madly in love for her. Their lives had changed since then, but for the better?

Warnings: Mentions of depression and suicide, murder, Obsession, stalker, cursing, idk.

A/N: English is NOT my first language

Inspired by the netflix series "You".

The end of this mini story has come. I hope you liked it, thank you!

Do not copy or translate this!

"But I'm a freak

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here"

My beloved (y/n). You really had no idea how much you meant to me and what I was capable of doing to protect you. I had sworn that I would not make the same mistakes of the past but I failed terribly. However, the idea that this was what was necessary for us to be together comforted me and gave me more encouragement for my actions. I had done this before and no one had caught me. This time would not be the exception.

"Hey, I need you to do me a favor." I whispered to Robin Buckley.

We were on Saturday. I haven't seen you since Wednesday and that really drives me crazy. I need to see you, smell you, feel you. Loving You. I hoped that my absence is not hurting you as much as yours with me. But there was a reason for it. I needed to be focused and not distracted for tonight. The night.

"I'm not lending money for your chemistry experiments, Eddie." She flatly refused as she continued to clean the guitars.

The last time I had to act for someone I loved, I needed money which was loaned to me by my co-worker. All the materials to dissolve a body were very expensive and at that time I had no money. This was not the case because my plans were different. This time i would not need to experiment with chemistry but would let everything seem like a simple accident of life.

"I do not need money." I snorted rolling my eyes and crossing my arms. "Today I have a date and I need you to cover for me while I leave work early." I lied but at the same time no. I had a date, only the other person didn't know about it.

"Again? What happened to the last girl you had a date with?" Robin turned to look at me expectantly.

What happened last time? She was not what she seemed and I had to cut her out of my life. She hurt me and took advantage of me, (y/n). I was hoping you weren't like that.

"There was no chemistry. I don't want to talk about it." I joked wiping a fake tear from my eye. "Are you going to cover me or not?" Robin looked at me thoughtfully as she bit her inner cheeks.

"Okay. Only if you cover for me next Saturday. I have a date too." She explained trying to hide her smile with her short hair.

"Oh yeah? Who's the lucky one?" I asked more relaxed now knowing that I had achieved my goal.

"It's her. Vicki, she's in the school orchestra."

"Lovely."

I left work early and went to my trailer to get what I needed for today. The night before i had already left them hidden inside the backpack in the bathroom so it would only be a quick visit. I packed my truck and sat there for a few minutes until it got dark enough. During that time I dedicated myself to practicing the song I had written for you. I had planned to play it foe you on our first official date.

"I don't care if it hurts

I wanna have control

I want a perfect body

I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice

When I'm not around

So fuckin' special

I wish I was special"

I mumbled vaguely fingering my guitar strings due to the dim light coming through the truck. I looked at the watch on my wrist to see that it was time.

"Let's do it." I whispered to myself starting the truck.

I drove to park in the same remote spot as always. Despite being Saturday there was not a soul in the streets and silence reigned. Just what I needed to relax before it all started. Believe it or not, I'm not proud of what I did, much less enjoy it. What's more, i was scared as shit. The only thing that managed to comfort me was the silence around me and the memory of your body on mine.

I tied my hair up in a ponytail with a hair tie I stole from you while you was in my truck on Monday. Then I put glue on the fingers of both hands and waited for it to dry. And finally I put some bags in my shoes. I was determined not to leave any fingerprints or any DNA samples that could implicate me and ruin everything.

I walked until I reached the neighbor's garden who seemed to have taken a very long vacation. I leaned out to look into your teacher's garden and fix my attention on the large glass doors that were my entrance to the house. Why those particular doors? Because they didn't have insurance to close them, I noticed it the day you invited me to come in and see you play.

The plan was to enter through there, go up to the second floor where your teacher's bedroom was and smother him with his pillow while he slept. Thus, when the neighbors realized the smell days later, everything would seem like a failure in his respiratory system. It made sense, he was a grown man who had been smoking indiscriminately for years. Don't judge me, it was the easiest plan to carry out among many that I thought.

The other plan I came up with was to kidnap your brother minutes before he got out of school and hide him in an abandoned cabin near the trailer park. Have him there for a couple of days and then act like I, Eddie the nice guy from the vinyl store, found him there and decided to take him home. That way not only you but everyone in the village would consider me a hero. Obviously the plan was more elaborate and I didn't want to cause you the pain of losing your brother for a few days. I wasn't so cruel after all.

I jumped into your teacher's garden and walked to the glass door. I carefully opened it and walked in carefully closing the door behind me. I tried to take a few steps into the darkness of the room but my foot hit something and a sharp scream was heard. I looked to the ground and I could see a small white dog that did not stop barking at me.

Shit.

The animal wasn't here the last time I came, was it new? It didn't matter now, he needed to shut him up before his owner woke up. Without much thought I grabbed the dog from the ground and with one of my hands I grabbed his neck and then strongly pulled him to one side, killing him instantly. Unfortunately it was already too late.

The footsteps of your teacher coming down the stairs were present and increasingly loud. I put the dead dog on the floor and hid behind the door, trying to control my breathing. I was going to have to improvise. The door opened and, in the darkness, the first thing I saw was the point of a shotgun.

"Who's there?" He asked pointing his gun towards the dark corners of the room.

It was now or never. Take advantage of the fact that his back was to me and I threw myself on him, choking him with my arm. He started stumbling around in the hectic spot and trying to get me off of him. In a sudden movement his gun went off, breaking one of the glass doors. I cursed indoors at the thunderous noise. We struggled for a few seconds until he hit me in the face with the back of his shotgun, making me fall to the ground.

"Motherfucker!" I complained feeling hot blood begin to run down my forehead.

I tried to stand up but to no avail. He was standing in front of me pointing at my head. His face changed drastically when he recognized me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked seriously. Receiving no response, he stomped on one of my feet, making me moan in pain. "I asked you a question, bastard." I looked around for something to defend myself with. "Are you coming to rob me? Huh? Is that why you messed with the lady (y/l)? To find out how to get in here?" Rage consumed me when I heard your name come out of his mouth.

"No, it's not because of that. I would never use her to profit in any way." I answered looking him in the eye. "I'm not like you, a washed up old man taking advantage of his student's innocence for sexual gratification."

My words shocked him. He stared at me for a few moments, it seemed that something had clicked in his head.

"You... It was you, you little shit."

Before i could ask what he meant, he pulled the trigger. However, the bullet did not come out. Due to the blow he had given me seconds ago, his shotgun jammed, making it impossible to use. I let out a satisfied laugh. The Lord had given me one more chance. I got up from the ground and in a quick movement took the shotgun out of his hands and hit him in the head with it. He fell onto the piano keys, creating a horrible sound that echoed through the room. Still in a daze, I grabbed the piano lid and yanked it down, grabbing the man's fingers with it. The cry of pain as I opened and closed the lid mashing his fingers. I repeated the action a few times until he released himself and walked away with his bloody hands.

Not intending to fight, the man ran towards the stairs of his house and I followed him with the shotgun in my hands, trying to unlock it.

"Don't run now! Be a man and face me!" I yelled at him angrily.

However he ignored me and began to climb the stairs with difficulty. At first it seemed strange to me that he didn't try to run away or scream for help but then I understood that he was going to look for another weapon in his room. I dropped the shotgun and decided to chase him up the steps two at a time. When he was about to reach the second floor, I grabbed him by the collar of his pajamas and pulled him back. His body rolled down the stairs until he reached the bottom where his head hit the ground, killing him instantly. Soon blood began to pour from his head, and lots of it. I looked at the stage for a few moments and I couldn't help but smile. This was the beginning of a life together, (y/n).

I grabbed the bandana hanging on my back pants and bandaged my forehead, preventing my blood from dripping and dirtying the house. The way everything had turned out forced me to make a change of plans. Now instead of his death being an accident, it would now be an attempted robbery gone wrong.

I took the work to mess up his house, opening drawers and throwing everything on the floor. I did the same in the kitchen and the living room until I reached the practice room. There I opened one of the drawers finding myself with a large bundle of money and a white envelope. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to open it, finding it with 2 plane tickets to Spain. Was he thinking of traveling? I definitely wasn't going to go alone because the two tickets were one way but not return. I kept looking in the same drawer until I found 2 passports, one was from he and the other was... yours.

"(y/n).. what the fuck is this?"

Were you trying to run away with him? This had to be a fucking joke. After how badly he treated you and how well I did? We were definitely going to talk about this. I need explanations. Many.

I put the plane tickets and passports in my pants pocket. They would be a tool that would serve me for later. I looked around me checking that I was not missing anything. My attention was fixed on the dead puppy a few meters from me. I felt guilty, obviously. He was a poor victim of the terrible circumstances in which we found ourselves. I hope God has him in glory, not his owner.

I walked out the shattered glass door and ran without looking back. My hair fluttered in the wind and the voices far away from me didn't wait long. Apparently the neighbors already found out. Oops.

By Sunday morning everyone had learned of the tragic death of your piano teacher. On Monday a commemorative act was held and you were there, in the front row. I know because I saw you in the paper in one of the columns written by Nancy Wheeler. In the image you looked devastated as well as everyone around you who seemed to be distant relatives of him. My heart squeezed seeing you like this and not being able to be there to take care of you. What a bad boyfriend I am! I know, I know. I am terrible. But everything has a reason, sweetheart. I had to stay home to rest and plan our next meeting. The blow had left part of my forehead swollen and a small scar that would take time to heal. Luckily my bangs covered it up and the swelling went down considerably by Wednesday. Now i was presentable for our meeting. The first day of the rest of our lives.

Wednesday again. Blessed Wednesday. We've been dating for a week and since you let me try you. We had to celebrate it in the best way and I had already prepared everything. I put on the same old clothes only this time I asked an old lady who lived in the same trailer park as me to iron them for me. She accepted in exchange for a box of cigarettes. On the way I bought a bunch of roses that reminded me of you, especially the color your cheeks turn when I call you 'Sweetheart'. I put on my characteristic perfume, hoping that the scent would remind you of the time I made you mine in my truck.

Please park outside the school and patiently wait for your exit. Soon the students came out in groups, saying goodbye to each other and going their separate ways. Almost last of all I saw you leave with your group of friends. You were crestfallen and you seemed sad, oblivious to the conversation of your friends. It affected you so much not seeing me? I'm sure but luckily I'm here for you.

You said goodbye to them and turned to go in the direction of your car. It was there that our eyes met. My heart raced at the sight of you and a smile formed on my face. Unconsciously I adjusted my hair with my hand, combing my bangs and the length. What I expected was that you would respond in the same way, that you would scream with joy when you saw me and that you would run towards me to hug me but no. There was none of that. Your face turned pale and I could see how you swallowed hard and then looked away and headed to your car. What happened? Didn't you like the flowers? Were you more of the type of chocolates and stuffed animals with cloying phrases?

I frowned in confusion as I watched as you got into your car and started it. I ran up to you ignoring and being ignored by the other students around. When you saw me you tried to move but it was too late, I was already glued to the driver's window.

"Hey! Where are you going?" I asked agitated. You didn't even look me in the eye. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Talk to me please..." I begged at your indifference.

"Do not call me that way!" You raised your voice looking at me for the first time. Your eyes were shiny from the tears that threatened to spill. "What do you want from me?" You whispered in an agitated voice.

"I just... I just wanted to see you and..."

"You saw me, ok? Now, bye." You tried to move the car again but I put my hand on the steering wheel, preventing you from moving.

"We need to talk." I explained. "Will it be quick, please."

You hesitated for a few seconds but then nodded your head. I mumbled a series of 'thanks' and climbed into the passenger seat.

"Here, they reminded me of you."

I extended the bouquet to you with a smile on my face. You looked at me out of the corner of your eye with no expression on your face and then grabbed the bouquet and placed it on the back seat without even thanking me or smelling it. I guess you're in your day.

You drove in silence until you reached the place where you took me the last time we met. The place looked different because it was still daytime, however it was just as beautiful. The trees surrounded us and nature completely dominated. The growing grass around us told me that not many people knew about this place and didn't come here often either.

You got out of the car and walked until you were in front of it, I imitate you by staying in front of you.

"What do you want to talk about, Edward?" Your voice came out cold, indifferent. That 'Edward' was not like the one from the past times, it was full of contempt.

"I wanted to see you, give you a surprise. You know, I owe you for being a bad boyfriend in the last few days."

I tried to get closer and give you a hug but you immediately backed away placing your hands on my chest and pushing me away.

"Do not touch me!" You raised your voice in disgust. "Boyfriend? What are you talking about?" You asked me confused. If you were confused, I was even more so.

"I'm your boyfriend, (y/n)." I spoke convinced. "You... you called me that last week. You... you don't remember?

You looked at me for a few seconds and then laughed awkwardly.

"No... I didn't mean it. I was playing." Playing? "Damn, Edward. I didn't think you were that stupid." You murmured when you saw my confused face.

"But you.."

"I don't want you to come near me again." You interrupted me looking at me seriously.

"What? Why? You can't ask me that…" I whispered shaking my head.

"Are you sick." Sick.

"No I'm not." I raised my voice and took a few steps closer to you.

"Why are you doing this? Why me?" You bite your lower lip nervously. Possibly more because of my proximity than because of what my answer could be.

"Because I love you." I whispered holding your hands tightly, preventing you from pulling away from you. "Fate brought us together because we are made for each other, Sweetheart." I brought my face close to yours.

You try to get away from me but I was stronger. I managed to corner you against your car, I needed you to stay with me and listen to me.

"You are not a good person, Edward. And you are not what you appear to be." Tears formed in your eyes. My heart broke hearing your words.

"I love you I love you I love you." I repeat incessantly pressing my body to yours. "Everything I did, I did for you. I did it for love."

I let go of your hands to place mine on your face, wiping away the tears that fell from your eyes with my thumbs. You startled at my closeness and the way I placed my legs on either side of yours, preventing you from running away. Silence flooded us for a few seconds until you spoke with a small voice.

"Is that why you killed him? For 'love'?"

Your words left me cold. How did you find out? We were talking about the same thing? Was this real? For god, (y/n). Do not do this to me.

"I do not know what are you talking about." I shook my head looking into your eyes.

"Robert. You killed him." Robert. That son of a bitch.

"Sweetheart..." I tried to stroke your hair but you pushed me hard, taking me a few steps away from you.

"You planned all this right?" I did not answer. "All this time you were after me. How did I never notice?!" You exclaimed annoyed with yourself.

"What are you talking about? Explain to me." I insisted, anxious to know what had failed. How did you come to that conclusion?

"We had been feeling the presence of someone else in the classes for weeks." You explained looking at the ground, remembering the events. "I'm sure it was you, sniffing around from somewhere." You looked at me with anger in your eyes.

"You can't know that, it could have been anyone.."

"Not only in class, but during that whole week I felt that someone was watching me from leaving school until I returned home."

"You must understand that it wasn't me. You're jumping to conclusions without any proof."

"I know, it sounds crazy but you gave yourself away." You spoke louder.

"How..?" I whispered to myself.

"When you picked me up on the highway last Wednesday and I asked you to take me to Robert's house you didn't ask for directions. You just drove like you already knew the way."

"That's because Robin told me her neighbor gave you lessons. And I dropped her off at her house several times after work." I excused myself by acting cool but you shook your head.

"On the way back you took me home without asking me for instructions either. How did you know where I live?" Guilty. "Or.. Or when we were in your truck and I thanked you for helping me with the car. You said that battery leaks were a very common problem in cars but back you didn't know what the problem was."

Shit. Shit. And more shit.

"You know when I realized Robert's death wasn't an accident? When they found this at the crime scene." You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the hair tie that belonged to you. I'm screwed up.

"What does that hair tie have to do with me? You're delusional, (y/n)."

She knows.

"I was wearing this hair tie when we met last Wednesday, before we had sex I was wearing it but when I got home I didn't have it with me anymore." You explained calmly. "That means that you stole it and the day you went to kill him it was lost there."

A silence invaded again. Your gaze was cold and penetrating, like daggers that hurt me. I kept staring at the ground, stunned by all the information.

"I didn't kill him." Answer sure.

"If it wasn't you, then let me see your forehead." You answer me in the same way, sure you had won.

I stood motionless in my place, not knowing what to do. I was screwed. very fucked up You were smarter than I thought, (y/n). I have to admit that I was not a perfectionist either and left many loose ends along the way. Too. And you were very observant, almost as much as I was.

"When you saw me, you combed your bangs and the small bandage on your forehead caught my attention. The policemen said that two hits were made with the shotgun. One was given to Robert and the other you have."

I clenched my fists tightly resisting the urge to break everything. I had to stay calm for you and for us. All was not lost, i could still save our future together.

I reached into my pants pockets and took out the two plane tickets slowly. You widen your eyes in surprise as you recognized the pieces of paper and confirmed that I had been to his house.

"You're were going to run away with him." Speak softly, with no intention of scaring you. "You can still run away, but this time with me. We can rebuild our lives together."

I started walking towards you again, without lowering my hand with the plane tickets. You looked around you out of the corner of your eye, looking for something that would help you cover yourself from my proximity.

"I heard that they have an exquisite paella."

"I'm not going with you." You responded firmly by shaking your head. "You are a killer." Killer. I smiled and copied you, also shaking my head slowly.

"I'm not a murderer. I'm a hero. Your hero. I saved you from him, is it that hard to understand?"

"I loved him, and he loved me."

"No, he didn't!" I yelled tired. My voice startled you. "He was just using you, (y/n). I'm the one you have to love, for god sakes! Look at all I had to do to keep you safe and together! That's love!"

Without realizing it, I was in front of you again. Your head was lowered and your hands were intertwined. Tears fell from your face and sobs flowed from your mouth. I was scaring you. Oh no, not again. I grabbed your chin with my hand, forcing you to look at me. Your whole body trembled with fear before me and it seemed that you had lost your strength.

"Don't do this to me, please. Sweetheart, I love you." I whispered bringing our foreheads together.

"But I don't." Please no. "I could never love someone like you, a psychopath, murderer. A fucking freak!"

Uff.

"You turned out to be just like everyone else." My grip on your chin tightened, causing you to let out a groan of pain. "A piece of shit. An egotistical and manipulative one." Anger. "You do not deserve me."

You kicked my crotch hard, making me kneel on the ground in pain. You took advantage and ran to the driver's seat of your car, trying to escape from the place. I took strength and got up, full of anger and pain. Two words that seem to always accompany me in life. You tried to start the car but your hand shook when you saw me walk towards you. You raised the windows and put the lock on the door, locking yourself inside.

"Where do you think you are going?" I muttered annoyed.

I could break the glass with my fists and get you out of there by grabbing your hair but no. I had a plan. And this one was not going to fail.

I went to the hood of the car and opened it. Regardless of the fact that it was hot and I burned myself trying, I started looking for the cables that turned off the engine. When I found them, I broke them with my hands. Now, you were locked inside the car. You cried, and a lot. You yelled at me asking for mercy and to get you out of there, that you were going to forget what happened and we could try. But it was already late. You betrayed me and very bad. Now you had to pay.

I took out the gas tank and began to spread the liquid throughout the car, making sure not to leave any dry spots. Your screams didn't bother me, what's more, they were the best soundtrack for this moment. Once everything was covered, I pulled out my cigarette box and a box of matches. I lit the cigarette, taking a drag and enjoying the smoke in my lungs. Don't worry, (y/n), you will also feel something similar. I stepped back and with the same match, I threw it at the car and let the magic happen. Well better said, than chemistry.

I stayed there, admiring the fire while i smoked my cigarette. Just when I was about to finish it I had to leave due to the sound of fire patrols. Apparently the smoke was already visible from the town. Don't worry, this time I made sure to take the butt with me and leave no trace.

Several weeks have passed since you left, (y/n). Everyone here misses you, even me. Your death was listed as a suicide. Thanks to the fact that I left the tickets and the passports of both, your relationship with your teacher became known. The police said that before the murder of your lover, you fell into a terrible depression that ended up taking your life. End of story. There are no suspects involved, so I'm calm.

Sometimes I think of you, of everything we could have achieved together. However, I understood that ours was not going to work either, you were not what you seemed and I was very honest with you. Our short relationship made something clear to me. I had to change. I admit it, I also have my flaws and they are precisely the ones I want to change. They are mistakes I made dating Barbara Holland months ago, with you, and I don't want to repeat them. I am willing to change and for the better. Now not for you, but for me.

"Hello, excuse me. Do you have the latest ABBA album?" A sweet voice brought me out of my thoughts. "Sorry I haven't introduced myself. I'm Chrissy Cunningham."

Hello, you.

"Hello, Chrissy. Nice to meet you, I'm Edd. Sure, we just got a batch of the new record. Follow me, Sweetheart."

#eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #yandere!eddie munson #dark!eddie munson #yandere

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ladyfogg · 2 years

Text

We Live for Love - Part 2

We Live for Love – Part 2

Fic Summary: Eddie is recovering in the hospital where you’re volunteering. The whole town may have shunned him but you refuse to do the same. Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Language, Season Finale Spoilers

Fic Song: We Live for Love by Pat Benatar. Full fic playlist on Spotify.

A/N: Look, this was supposed to be slow burn but apparently these nerds are super fucking in love and nothing I can do can stop them. Trust me, I’ve tried. Right now my plan is to have this be four parts. We’ll see if they make me change my mind though lol.

The next morning, you hop out of bed well before your alarm goes off. All night you were thinking of Eddie and the “almost kiss” and you can’t wait to see him again. It was like the last two years never happened. Like your body pressed pause on your crush and then fast forward the moment you two were in the same room.

You take a quick shower and for once you don’t complain that the water is cold. Another lovely side effect of the mess Hawkins is dealing with. Although, your shower was always cold because the old landlord never bothered to replace the hot water heater. In the back of your mind, you add that to the list of many things you want to take care of when time and resources allow. Once you’re done with your shower, you proceed to spend the next few minutes trying to decide what to wear. Not that you think Eddie really cares but you care.

Shit, what should you do? Casual? Sexy? Sexy-casual? Wait, is that even a thing?

Huffing in annoyance at yourself, you remember that there are way more important things to worry about. Also, you have to walk so it’s better to be comfortable. You choose a pair of jeans and a shirt with the D&D logo. You know people in town are still freaked out about the game but you don’t fucking care. It’s fun, it doesn’t hurt anyone, and you know Eddie will love it.

There’s a knock on the front door of the store just as you finish getting dressed.

You poke your head out the window to see the mailman, who waves up at you. You forgot that before everything happened you had ordered a bunch of new things for the store! You’re surprised with everything going on they still got delivered.

Racing down to meet him, you throw open the shop door to find a stack of packages. The postal worker pushes a clipboard at you with paperwork to sign. Once that’s done, he promptly gets back into his truck without a word and takes off to the next place. He doesn’t even wait for you to thank him.

With zero help, you carry the boxes one by one into the shop.

They couldn’t have come at a better time. You search each one, tearing off the tape in a frenzy to get into the box. There is one, in particular, you’re looking for and when you find it, you get ridiculously excited.

After shoving a few choice items into your bag, you leave the shop, making sure to lock up behind you before you set off for the hospital.

Things are still hectic, even in the early morning. While the steady stream of residents leaving is dwindling, the amount of rescue and emergency vehicles are not. Firetrucks still race from fire to fire, and ambulances still screech by on the way to the hospital. Missing person posters cover every available surface and those loved ones who are looking walk the street as well, handing out flyers and asking questions. You get stopped at least a dozen times and take each piece of paper handed to you, carefully putting them in your bag. You promise to check the hospital on your rounds but there’s not much else you can offer but comforting words.

You’ve never been involved in a natural disaster before. The scope of it makes you feel small and insignificant. You have no idea how Hawkins will come back from this or IF it can come back. All you can do is take it one day at a time and help however you can.

When you get to the hospital, the nurses are way too busy to talk or pay attention to you this time. You don’t have a list to work from but at this point, you don’t need it. As much as you want to rush over to see Eddie, once again you decide to leave his room for last. That way you can spend the rest of the day with him if he wants you to at least. You get the feeling that he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

Your mind has been replaying the events of the day before constantly. It’s on a loop. The hand holding, the gentle caress of his thumb against your chin, the way his eyes grew hooded when he started to lean in, how your body screamed for you to kiss him, kiss him right now!

You’re so focused on what almost happened, that you don’t realize you’re getting funny looks from people. It takes you a second to remember your D&D t-shirt. Geez, even with everything going on people are still worried about the wrong thing. You’re not going to let it get you down and you’re not going to shrink away. With every dirty look, you give a big smile in return and a cheerful, “Good morning!”

In Max’s room, Lucas isn’t reading this time. He’s sitting quietly, staring at the young girl. When you walk in, he barely glances your way. Even without knowing them very well, you can see how much he cares about her.

“Hey, man,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Have you been here all night? You really need to get some sleep.”

“No, I just got here,” Lucas says. “I trade off with her mom every few hours.”

It pains you to hear the heartbreak in his voice, to see the sadness in his eyes. You reach into your bag and pull out one of the new comics that came in that morning. “Here, I have something for Max. She’s been in the shop a couple of times and I know she likes Wonder Woman. Not sure if she’s read this one yet but it’s hers.”

Lucas smiles softly, taking the comic from you. “Thanks. This means a lot, you know.”

“I do what I can.”

Lucas’s eyes stray to your shirt. “Wait, you play D&D?”

“Hell yeah. Do you?”

He nods excitedly. “My friends and I are part of the Hellfire Club and we’ve played for years.”

Hawkins really is a small town. “Well, I want to plan a D&D night,” you say. “If you want, I can run a game for you guys at the shop. I know it’s probably the last thing on anyone’s mind right now but we could all use an escape, some time to think about something else.”

“Cool, I’ll talk to the others.”

There’s a knock on the door and you turn to see a few kids around Lucas’s age huddled in the entry to the room as if they don’t know if they can come in. Lucas urges them forward with a wave and introduces you to them and them to you.

“This is Mike, Will, and Ele-I mean, Jane,” he says. “Guys, she runs the bookstore. She was just talking about running a D&D game at some point.”

Mike and Will perk up at the idea while Jane gives a small shrug. “I’ve never played.”

“Don’t worry, I can teach you,” you offer with a smile. There’s no way you’re going to let another girl avoid trying the game because of the stupid boys club mentality that seems to come with it. “It’s not that hard once you get the basic rules down. It’s essentially group storytelling. No pressure or anything. Like I told Lucas, I’m sure the last thing on people’s minds is playing games right now. But I’m up for it if you guys need something to help unwind.”

“I’m in,” Will says immediately. “It’s been a long time since I’ve played.”

“We’re in too,” Jane declares. She and Mike are holding hands and smiling at each other. “It’ll be nice to learn finally.”

“Yeah, and like you said, it’ll be nice to focus on something else. Even if it’s for a few hours,” Mike says. “We’ll see if Dustin or the others will be up for it. Might be a big group.”

“Great, the more the merrier. Then it’s settled. Tomorrow. We’ll start at three at the shop. Just bring yourselves, I’ll take care of everything else.”

It’s like now that your brain has something to plan, to think about, you’re feeling somewhat useful. You’re definitely excited not just to be able to play but that your idea is being so well-received. Of course, these kids are definitely younger than you and you were hoping for a slightly older crowd but, hey, you’re not going to complain. They need the distraction as much as anyone does. Moreso, you think as you look back at Max. Lucas’s friends crowd around her bed and you take that as a sign it’s time for you to go. With a wave at everyone, you push your cart back out into the hall.

You hope that Eddie will be well enough to be able to join your game. You’re not sure when he can leave the hospital.

Speaking of Eddie.

You rush through the rest of your rounds so you can get to him faster, even more excited to see him and tell him about the game. This time when you go into his room, however, he’s not alone. The Henderson kid from the day before is at his bedside, along with Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley.

“Wow, full house in here,” you joke, trying to ease your nervousness.

Eddie gives you that fucking beautiful smile of his and says your name excitedly. “Guys, this is my friend,” he tells the others, motioning to you. “Used to be in classes together way back when.”

“You went to class?” Henderson asks.

Eddie shoves him playfully.

There are butterflies in your stomach at Eddie’s excitement that you’re there. Smiling, you wave at the others. “Sup, Harrington,” you say, nodding at Steve. “Hey, Robin.”

You three had run into each other a couple of times throughout the last year when you went to the video store for some rentals. If the bookstore had a slow day, you’d sometimes close early so you could go over and shoot the shit with them. Nancy you knew from school, though haven’t seen or talked to her as much. Even still, she gives you a warm smile.

“And I’m Dustin,” the Henderson kid says with a wide smile. “And we were all just leaving.”

“What? We just got here!” Steve says confused.

Robin also looks confused. “Am I missing something? Why do we have to leave?”

“No, Dustin’s right, we’re leaving,” Nancy says, pushing Steve towards the door. “Come on, guys.” She grabs Robin’s hand and pulls her along.

“Wait, careful!” Robin exclaims, nearly crashing into your book cart before you have a chance to scoot out of the way. “You know I don’t do well moving fast!”

Dustin brings up the rear, shooing all of Eddie’s friends out of the room before giving you another bright, and knowing smile. “See ya, Eddie!” He all but slams the door behind him.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Damn, I’ve never been one to clear a room before,” you say, looking at Eddie in amusement. “Was it something I said?”

Eddie’s smile widens. “Hardly. Sorry, Henderson lacks subtly.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Have a seat.”

Your heart starts pounding in your chest and your hands are suddenly very clammy. It’s very hard to catch your breath and nothing’s even happened yet. You take the offered seat on the bed and just like that, you’re close to him again. The gauze around his head is gone, leaving a large bandage near his hairline. The bruising on his face is starting to turn yellow at the edges, though his arms are still tightly wrapped in gauze. Now that you’re taking the time to look, it doesn’t seem like his arms are broken or anything, just covered.

Without meaning to, you reach out to gingerly touch the bandage on his head. “Does it hurt?” you ask.

“Only when someone pokes it like that.”

You wince and pull your hand away. “Sorry!”

He catches it, slotting his fingers with yours as he pulls it close to his chest. “Don’t worry about it.”

His other hand cups the back of your neck and the next thing you know, he’s pulling you into a searing kiss. It’s so sudden it takes you by surprise and your brain needs a minute to register what’s happening. And boy is it happening. You’re kissing Eddie Munson, actually kissing Eddie Munson. Or, more accurately, he’s kissing the hell out of you while you sit there like a bump on a log. Once that thought comes through, everything speeds up. You slide your hand into his hair and kiss him back feverishly as if your life depends on it. That heat from the day before is now a raging inferno. His lips are soft and eager against yours and when you open your mouth, his tongue immediately fills the space, stroking and exploring everything it can reach.

He smells like summer nights by the campfire, and he tastes like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You can’t even bring yourself to pause and catch your breath. You have to keep kissing him otherwise you’re going to go crazy. Your body is screaming for more and you let it tell you what it wants. It’s not until you full-on straddle him that you remember where you are and break the kiss with a gasp.

Eddie’s staring up at you with those beautiful brown eyes, the edges of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. His cheeks are red and his lips glisten in the florescent lights.

“Shit, sorry, I got carried away,” you pant, yet make no attempt to move.

“It’s okay. Totally fine.”

He yanks you down into another kiss, his hand cradling the back of your head again to keep you in place. You can’t help but moan softly, which makes him hold you tighter. The hardness of his body beneath the thin hospital sheets is tantalizingly within reach and when he thrusts his hips up seeking some kind of friction, you’re more than happy to give it. But when you put your weight on him, he makes a noise of pain and you jerk away.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t even think…” You hurry to get off him. “You’re in the hospital for fuck’s sake. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“No, no, no, wait, come back.” He doesn’t let you get very far before he’s kissing you, tugging on your shirt to try to get you to straddle him again.

This time, however, your brain is a little more focused and you draw back. “You’re injured. I don’t want to hurt you even more.”

“Please, please hurt me. I don’t care.”

He dives in for one more kiss and you meet him halfway, this time being more mindful of his injured body. Instead of straddling him, you stay sitting on the bed but that doesn’t mean your kiss is tamer. It’s just as desperate as his. You’ve waited years for this moment and, if you’re not mistaken, Eddie is acting like he has too.

When breathing becomes necessary, you reluctantly break away. Eddie remains close, his hand stroking your cheek and his loving gaze taking you in.

“That was…unexpected,” you say.

“Figured I’d make up for being interrupted yesterday.”

“I approve.”

“Also I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

“Really?”

He nods, his nose nuzzling yours. “Really.”

This time the kiss is gentle, slow, almost like he’s savoring it. You know you are. Your body melts against his and it’s like every muscle breathes a sigh of relief. The two of you enjoy a few lazy kisses like you have all the time in the world.

The next time you pull back, he gives you a dazzling smile.

“That was…” You try to find the right word.

“Hot? Sexy? Awesome? Fucking amazing?”

You laugh. “Yeah, all of the above.” You smile, stroking his cheek this time, touching his face to tell yourself that it’s all real and this is actually happening. “I suppose we should probably talk about all this.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He pauses before wagging his eyebrows. “Or…”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. You’re kissing him before he says another word. Now that you are finally getting what you want, there’s no way you can stop yourself. Eddie seems to be thinking the same thing.

Minutes tick by and you barely notice, too focused on the hot man who’s devouring your mouth like he’s starving. You feel heat behind you, and it’s then that you realize, Eddie’s hand slid under your shirt and is resting on your lower back. The skin-to-skin contact almost makes you combust. Every nerve is on end, drawing attention to the stroke of his callous fingers. Even still, you need a second to catch your breath, to think about what’s happening.

You break the kiss but stay close, unable and unwilling to put any kind of distance between you two. “Don’t you think we’re moving a little fast?”

Eddie purses his lips. Once more, his hand returns to stroke your cheek, his knuckles gently stroking over the tender flesh. “When you think you’re going to die, when your life flashes before your eyes, you start to think of all the stuff you didn’t get to do. And for me, there was one thought.”

“What was it?”

He smiles. “I thought of you.”

“And that you didn’t get to do me?”

At that, he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. “Among other things. Mostly, I didn’t fucking take the chance to ask you out when I had it.”

“So do it now.”

“Will you go out with me?”

You hum and pretend to think, moving to rest with him in bed. His arm slides around you, pulling you closer. “I don’t know,” you tease. “I may need more convincing.”

“Oh, I can make that happen.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur of kisses and soft touches. Nothing more than that physically but a hell of a lot more emotionally. You two talk, catching each other up on what’s been going on aside from the earthquake. That smile of his never leaves, never even wavers. Eventually, you get out of his bed and sit in the chair, but that’s only because you hear one of the doctors coming and you don’t want them to kick you out for snuggling and making out with the patient.

The doctor doesn’t care. He barely even pays attention to you two as he does his rounds and moves on. You’re a little annoyed by his indifference but Eddie waves it off and your catching up continues.

By the time night rolls around, you’re tired and hungry but don’t want to leave his side. Eddie has been holding your hand pretty much the entire time and squeezes it when he notices your eyes drooping.

“You should go get some rest,” he says.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“It’s okay, my uncle should be coming by soon anyway.”

You raise your joined hands and press his hand to your cheek. “Yeah, but you’re super cute and I want to make out some more.”

He bites his bottom lip as he smiles. “You have no idea what hearing you say that is doing to me.”

“Maybe once you’re out of here you can show me.”

“You fucking know I will.”

You kiss again, this one filled with silent promises and a tease of what’s to come when you can finally have him all to yourself. Even though he was the one to suggest you go home, he has a hard time letting you go, insisting on pulling you in for “one more kiss” each time to try to stand up. It makes you stupidly giddy and you can’t stop smiling.

“Alright, alright,” you say, finally detaching yourself from his embrace. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning. It’s not my volunteer day so I can just hang out with you.”

“Fucking awesome. Looking forward to it.”

You study him for a moment, basking in the warmth flooding from him, your heart so full it feels like it can burst. Being with him all day and finally taking stock of all his injuries makes you realize how incredibly lucky he is to still be alive. And how lucky you are that he is. “I’m glad you’re safe,” you say.

Eddie brings your hand to his lips and places a peck on your knuckles. “I’m glad you’re safe too.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

You reach into your bag and pull out a small pouch. Eddie smiles. “What’s this? You got me a present?”

“Technically I bought it for myself but I think you should have them.”

Eddie opens the pouch and turns it upside down in his palm. Seven dice slide out. His eyes widen he looks up excitedly. “Oh man! You’re giving me dice?”

“Trust me, I have plenty. Besides, these made me think of you.”

The dice are black with swirls of red through them. On the twenty-sided one, where the number one should be is a skull and crossbones. Eddie closes his hand around the dice and with his free hand, cups the back of your head again. “I love them. Come here.”

A few more kisses are exchanged before you extract yourself from him for good this time. Not that you want to. If you could stay there all night kissing him you would. “You can use them when you join my game tomorrow.”

“So you’re actually going to do it? That’s sick! I didn’t know you had set a date.”

“I’m running it mostly for Lucas Sinclair and his friends. And I know you’re always the one being the Dungeon Master. Figured you’d like to be a player for once.”

“Babe, you can be my dungeon master any day.”

You grin, leaning in to place a quick peck on his cheek. “For that, we’d have to be alone, though,” you whisper in his ear.

Eddie groans as you draw away. “God damn it, woman, don’t say shit like that to me when you have to leave.”

“Something for you to think about later.”

“Trust me, I will.”

As much as it pains you to leave Eddie, you do, with the promise of coming back as soon as possible. He smiles from his bed, wiggling his fingers in a silly wave. God, you are absolutely falling for that nerd. It turns out to be a good thing you leave when you do because on your way out you pass Eddie’s uncle. At least you know he won’t be alone for the next few hours.

Night has fallen by now and it’s dark when you step out of the hospital. You don’t really notice or care. It’s like you’re walking on clouds and it takes all you have not to skip down the street like a schoolgirl with a crush. Because it’s so much more than that. You know it is. You can feel it in your bones. You’re smiling the entire time, your mind thinking of the hours you’ve spent with Eddie.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

It takes you a second to realize someone is trying to get your attention. With a frown, you look back to see two guys wearing letterman jackets. They’re leaning against a car, both eyes on you as you walk. At first, you think they’re just some assholes catcalling the first woman that crosses their path, but then you see their eyes stray to your D&D shirt.

“Can I help you?” you ask.

“You shouldn’t wear shirts like that,” one says. “That Dungeons and Dragons shit isn’t welcome around here.”

“We are literally in the middle of a natural disaster. I don’t give two shits what you think about my t-shirt.”

The other guy speaks up, standing up straight next to his buddy. “He’s right. You should be careful. You never know who’s watching.”

A chill runs down your spine but there’s no way you’re going to let some teenage pissants intimidate you. “How about you two run home to your mommies?” you ask. “I’m sure they’re wondering where their mediocre offspring are. Hope you guys have a nice life knowing you peaked in high school.”

You keep walking, and even though you know they aren’t following you, you can feel their eyes burning holes in the back of your head.

When you get to the bookstore, you make sure to double lock the doors. The street outside is empty but it takes a long time for you to shake off the feeling of unease. To take your mind off things, you spend the next hour or so moving things around the shop and making room for the game. It’s the first one you’re running yourself and the excitement is enough to make you forget about those assholes. You go to bed excited for the first time in a long time.

The next morning, you wake up refreshed and eager to get to the hospital. You don’t even look at the time. You throw on whatever clothes you can find, pop an Eggo waffle into the toaster, and eat it as you’re flying out the door.

The morning is cool and for the first time in weeks, you don’t hear the sounds of sirens or fire trucks racing by. But before you can go see your man, because you absolutely referring to him as your man already in your head, there is one stop you have to make. You have another box to donate to the shelter, this time one that’s filled with comic books. You are walking that way when a car slowly pulls up beside you.

Immediately, you think of the two guys from the night before, and your body tenses, before you hear Steve call your name. You relax, turning to look at him. “Hey, Harrington.”

“Where are you headed? Need a ride?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great, actually.”

“Get in!”

You open the door to the back and shove the box in there before climbing into the passenger’s seat. “Thanks for the ride,” you say as he pulls back onto the main road. “I thought you were some douchey teenagers.”

“Let me guess, the ones with lettermen jackets?”

“Bingo.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, those assholes are pissy that their best friend was found guilty of murder. They’re harassing pretty much everyone.”

“Apparently they didn’t like my Dungeons and Dragons t-shirt.”

“Yup, that’ll do it.”

“So when did you become friends with Eddie?” you ask. The question has been on your mind since the morning before when you walked in on him and the others in Eddie’s room. He and Harrington never really hung out in the same circles so you were more than surprised to see him.

“It’s a long story.” Steve doesn’t elaborate. Like with Eddie, you get the sense he doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“Well, I’m glad you guys are hanging out. I hate the way this town is treating him.”

“Eddie’s a good guy, and I don’t think it’s any surprise that he has a massive crush on you.”

Your cheeks immediately get warm and you chuckle. “The feeling is mutual.”

“So I was told.” At your questioningly look, he chuckles. “Dustin Henderson. The kid can’t keep a secret to save his life. He said he walked in on you guys the other day. Nancy put two and two together.”

“Walked in sounds like we were doing something. We weren’t. But…yeah there’s something there.”

Steve smirks. “Nothing like the end of the world to bring two people together.” There’s a hint of…something in his voice that you can’t quite place. You know he dated Nancy back in school but you also know they had been broken up for years. Seeing them together yesterday, you couldn’t help wondering if there were still some sparks.

“Hey, you and Nancy should come to the D&D game I’m running later. Bring Robin too. Lucas and his friends are coming and I’m sure Dustin will be joining them.”

Normally that is way too many people for one game but you’re desperate for human interaction and if Eddie’s going to be there, you want him to be surrounded by people who care about him.

“You sure you want to let the whole gang into your shop?” Steve asks teasingly. “Once you do, you won’t be able to get rid of them. I should know. I’ve been their de-facto babysitter for like two years now.”

You laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Then count me in. Even though I have no idea what Dungeons and Dragons even is.”

“You’ll learn.”

He motions to the box in the back. “Are those for the shelter? Because I’m headed there now. I can just take it for you and drop you off at the hospital.”

“Perfect, thanks, Steve.”

You two talk for a bit before he pulls up outside the hospital and you get out, thanking him for the ride. He gives you a mock salute. “Tell Eddie we’ll see him later.”

“I will.”

Eddie is asleep when you slip into his room. His uncle is wide awake, sitting in the chair by his bed and staring off into space. When he sees you, he clears his throat and sits up. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, Mr. Munson,” you say before you introduce yourself. “I’m a friend of Eddie’s.”

“Yeah, he told me about you. Said you would be coming by.”

He gets up from the chair. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say quietly, not wanting to wake Eddie. “I can come back later.”

“No need. I have to get some rest. Figure things out.” Mr. Munson scratches absentmindedly at the stubble on his chin. “Glad he has so many friends to stick by him.”

“He’s a great guy.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it.”

You take the seat Mr. Munson offers and, after an awkward pat on your shoulder, he leaves. Eddie is still fast asleep so you make yourself comfortable and just watch. His face, usually so expressive and full of life, is relaxed and serene. It makes you think of waking up next to him and seeing him like this, how you would cuddle close and wake him up with soft kisses.

Dear god. All it took was twenty-four hours with Eddie back in your life for you to turn into a lovestruck mess.

You’re not there for more than five minutes when he stirs and opens those brown eyes. As soon as he sees you, he smiles sleepily. “Morning, gorgeous.”

“Good morning, handsome.” You lean forward and place a kiss on his forehead.

There’s a knock on the door and you pull away before it opens. Instead of Dustin like you were expecting, it’s the same doctor from the day before. He is holding Eddie’s chart, studying it as he enters the room. His expression is pinched like he’d rather be somewhere else.

“Time to check those bandages, Mr. Munson,” he says, ignoring you and moving to stand on the other side of Eddie’s bed.

Eddie takes your hand and you hold it for dear life as the doctor checks his wounds. The bandages on one of his arms are peeled away and you gasp when you see the collection of cuts and bruises. What the hell would cause all of that? Those cuts don’t look like they could have been made by anything you’re familiar with. And are those bite marks? What the actual fuck?! It almost looks like he was scratched and bit by an animal. Or multiple animals.

His other arm isn’t much better.

Your hands stay clasped together until the doctor is done. “Looks like you’re healing fairly well,” the man concludes. “And your blood work looks good. We should have you out of here in an hour.”

You frown. While it’s great to hear that Eddie’s doing okay, he’s clearly still incredibly injured and it didn’t seem right to you that he leave the hospital. At least not yet. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon?”

The doctor doesn’t even acknowledge your presence or that you said anything. Eddie doesn’t like that. “She asked you a question, doc.”

“We need the beds.”

The doctor jots something down on Eddie’s chart and then he’s gone a second later. He never made eye contact with you or Eddie the entire time he was there. Eddie sighs and sits up in bed. Your eyes travel to the marks on his arms, which are still visible now that the gauze that wrapped them is gone. There are still bandages over some of the more severe wounds. Through his hospital gown, you can see his wrapped torso and it makes you wonder how bad those wounds must be.

“That’s not right for them to kick you out like that,” you say. “You’re just as hurt as some of the others and they aren’t kicking them out.”

“No one wants a cult leader hanging around the hospital,” Eddie says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Bad for business and all that.”

You huff in anger. Fuck this town and fuck that doctor in particular. “Where are you going to go?”

Eddie shrugs. “I guess with my uncle to the shelter.”

So that’s what his uncle was saying when he meant “figure things out”. He knew they would be releasing Eddie early.

You know what the shelter is like, know that people are still talking shit about Eddie and calling him a murderer. Apparently, it doesn’t matter that someone else was found guilty. In their minds, Eddie is still the guilty one. You don’t like the idea of Eddie being weak and vulnerable around all those people.

“Or…” you say, your throat going dry as the suggestion pops into your head. “You can stay with me.”

Eddie’s eyes flit up to meet yours. Just like that, the heat that was simmering below the surface comes bubbling up. “You want me to stay with you?”

You nod excitedly. The more you think about it, the more you’re loving the idea. “I have the space and you can actually get some peace and quiet while you recover.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You wouldn’t. It would actually make me feel a hell of a lot better because I’d know you were safe.”

Eddie ponders your suggestion and your stomach flutters, worried he’s going to turn you down. After about a minute or so, his eyes meet yours again, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“One question though,” he says, squeezing your hand and raising his eyebrow. “Do I get the couch or the bed?”

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #strangerthings #joseph quinn

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