#corroded coffin fanfic

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Halloween

A/N- This is a fic i’ve been so excited about! I’m glad that i’m finally able to write a little bit more for Wayne, i loved his character and i thought he was such an amazing father figure for Eddie, it’s a shame we didn’t see more of him 🥺 This was originally from my halloween event that i had to unfortunately cancel, the premise was for each character to be correlated with a horror movie and the fic would be written in a way where it was either similar to the premise of the movie or just had something in general to do with it.

Summary- It’s Halloween night, and after taking you and the boys out trick or treating, Eddie’s Uncle Wayne has a very exciting surprise for all of you.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- This is written as if the reader and the boys are children, around 8-9 years old.

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @ghosttownwherenoonegoes (i know you’re not on my tag list but i do know how much you adore uncle wayne and i thought you’d really love this 🥰)

(my tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🖤)

Word Count- 3.1k

“Don’t stuff yourselves full of candy!” Wayne yelled out from the living room, walking his way down the hall into the doorway of Eddie’s bedroom where you and the boys were hurriedly stuffing the pockets of your jackets with fun sized candies from your pillowcases, “We’re getting snacks there tonight, i don’t want you too full when we get there.”

“Yes Mr. Wayne.” You and the boys said almost in unison.

He had been kind enough to take you all trick or treating that night, giving your parents a break and letting you all go together just like you did every year. You were hoping that sooner or later they’d let you go by yourselves but they always told you that you’d have to wait until middle school.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asked his uncle, his oversized jean jacket hung over his small frame as he helped you into your sweater. He was a year older but he had always been so much bigger than any other kids your age.

Wayne smiled and shrugged as he held the door open, watching as Grant helped Jeff into his jacket and Gareth stuffed a few more twizzlers into his pockets.

“Surprise.” He could see just how excited you all were. If there’s one thing he knew about kids, it’s that they loved surprises, “But you’ll have to wait until we get to the truck for me to tell you, so move your butts if you want to get there on time.”

In almost in instant you were pushing the boys out of Eddie’s room and into the living room, waiting for Wayne to give the ok for you all to head out to the truck.

“Where do you think he’s taking us?” Gareth asked as he fixed the knitted cap over his curls.

“I dunno,” Jeff shrugged, reaching into his pocket to pull out a reese’s cup to snack on, “what else is there to do on Halloween? We already got our candy.”

“Maybe he’s taking us home,” Grant yawned, already close to a sugar coma, “we were out for a while…”

“What about a cemetery?” You said, looking up to Eddie with a mischievous smile to match his.

“I don’t think he’s taking us to any of those places.” Eddie finished doing the buttons on his jacket, “He went over to the hall closet with all the blankets, we don’t need blankets in a cemetery.”

Wayne walked out from down the hall, a few folded blankets in his arms as he smiled seeing you all waiting patiently in a neat line,

“All ready?”

You all nodded, all smiles and giggles as Wayne opened the front door for you, each one carefully going down the concrete steps and wandering over to Wayne’s work truck. He locked the front door and walked over to the bed of the truck, undoing the hatch and laying a blanket out across it, setting the rest of the pile on the end,

“Alrighty kiddos, one at a time,” He reached down and helped Eddie into the bed of the truck, groaning as he lifted him, “each one take a blanket alright?”

Each of the boys nodded, wrapping their blankets around themselves as they set next to one another in the bed of the truck to keep warm. Wayne had saved the softest one for you, handing it to you and letting you get all comfortable, all of you still confused as to where he was taking you.

“Now,” Wayne started, “I know you kids have been real excited about tonight, and since it’s my year again to watch you i figured i might as well make it a little special.” He smiled bigger seeing the smiles on your little round faces, “I’ve asked your parents about it, and they agreed that you’re all old enough, so i’m taking you to the drive in tonight to go see Halloween.”

You couldn’t help your excited giggles, looking at one another and seeing just how much you were anticipating going to see that movie. Eddie had even suggested the five of you sneaking out to go see it.

Thank god Wayne found out about it before it was too late, he had no problem taking you all to see it.

“Is it really scary?” Grant asked, “I don’t know if my dad wants me watching scary stuff before bed…”

“It’s not too scary,” Eddie said as his head popped out of the blanket he had wrapped around himself, “don’t worry, i’ll tell you when all the scariest parts are.”

“Now, Eddie’s done this before, but i don’t know if you kids have. I’ll drive the truck up and you’re gonna hide under those blankets when i pay for the tickets.”

“We get to sneak in?” Jeff said with a smile, “Just like the big kids do?”

“You bet,” Wayne put the hatch back up, walking around to the drivers side as he told you exactly what to do, “and i’m gonna make sure to be real careful with you kids back there, what are the rules when you’re in the truck?”

You each went one by one listing off Wayne’s rules. You had to have heard them at least a million times before.

“No standing up while you’re driving, we have to be sitting down.” Eddie went first and Wayne nodded, looking to you second.

“No horseplay. Especially when we’re on the road.” You went next, looking to Grant who was sat next to you.

“If we have an emergency, we have to knock on the back window.” Grant glanced over to Gareth and Jeff, who were busy already trading the little candies they had in their pockets.

“Boys?” Wayne said, grabbing their attention.

They both looked up to Wayne, their little hands already fussing around with a shared bag of jelly beans, already completely lost.

“Last rule?” Wayne asked them, “No scaring me when i’m driving.” He said sternly.

“I know you kids like to joke around, and that’s all fine and well, but someone can get really hurt. Alright?”

“Yes, sir.” You all said in unison.

“Perfect! Now, who’s ready for that movie?”

The five of you jumped in your seats, nothing but smiles on your faces and a mess of giggles

The sun had started to go down, the sky a mix of darker blues and oranges, and Wayne lifted the hatch back onto the truck as you all had gotten comfortable in your spots. Each of the boys around you as you laid in the middle, your back against the cabin where Wayne sat and your fuzzy blanket wrapped around your body. The boys had their blankets wrapped around themselves as you did, ready to hide themselves from the employee sitting inside the ticket booth. Eddie knew this plan well.

You and the boys had a giggle as the truck started up, vibrating beneath you as you sat comfortably in the back. You watched the trailer get smaller and smaller, the gravel road beneath the truck making the bed rock back and forth.

Once Wayne pulled out onto the road, the drive was smooth, you and the boys keeping an eye out for the white screen out in the distance, not being able to help the excited laughter.

“Is it really scary?” Jeff asked, snuggling himself deeper into his blanket.

“Not really,” Eddie turned to him, “I mean, it’s scary, but not scary scary.”

“You said that about Alien!” Gareth shouted.

“Don’t you love that movie?” You asked.

“Well…. yeah…” Gareth shrugged and looked down at his lap, “But it was scary when we saw it the first time!”

“But it was a really cool movie.” Grant said, the rest of you agreeing, “No aliens pop out of anyone’s chest in this movie right?”

“No,” Eddie said with a laugh, “but there’s lots of blood, and Michael Myers has this huge knife that he uses, and i know there’s adult stuff in it but Wayne always tells me when to cover my eyes so i’ll know when it’s coming.”

“Why do we have to cover our eyes?” You asked him, pulling out a little fun sized Twizzler from your pocket and popping it into your mouth.

“Cause it’s grown up stuff! We’re not allowed to see it yet! That’s what Wayne always says.” Eddie looked over his shoulder and smiled big as soon as he saw the few cars lined up beside the ticket booth, “We’re almost there! Everyone get all covered up.”

The five of you quickly got settled into the bed of the truck, scrunching up your little bodies as tightly as you could, laying your blankets over yourselves to keep hidden. Though you couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip out as you felt the truck inch closer and closer.

It was hard to not figure out that there were five little bundled up kids under those blankets in the bed, but when Wayne pulled up to the ticket booth and asked for ‘just one ticket’ the man in the booth played along gladly, smiling as he heard your collection of giggles when the truck started up once more.

You all quickly sat up and tossed the blankets up, huddling together around them and laughing,

“He never even knew we were all back here!” Jeff laughed.

You all turned your heads and smiled in awe of the drive in.

Every time you went it was always a treat. It was different than a normal movie theater, kids playing catch in the grassy space in front of the screen, practicing their cartwheels and playing their games with smiles on their faces. There were chairs and coolers set up in the beds of trucks as parents watched over their children playing, blankets laid out next to cars with snacks and drinks laid out over them, moms putting bug spray on fussy kids. Everyone was always so much friendlier at the drive in.

“What snacks are you guys gonna get?” Gareth asked as he opened the little plastic wrapped around a tube of smarties.

“I want popcorn-“ Eddie started, quickly cut off by Grant,

“With extra butter!” He insisted.

“We definitely don’t need any more candy.” Jeff smiled as he started taking the little fun sized treats out of his pocket and setting them into the bed of the truck as Wayne pulled into a spot.

You hadn’t even gotten a chance to trade candies before rushing to leave the trailer, but that little window of time you’d have between the opening trailers and Wayne grabbing the snacks would be perfect. And it was just the right time for it too, the little bit of blood orange sun peeking out from the darkening clouds in the sky provided just enough light to still see around you.

The spot was perfect, right in the middle of the screen, not too close and yet not too far either. The vibrating beneath you ceased as Wayne shut the truck off, stretching as he stepped out from the drivers seat,

“Great job sticking to the rules kids,” He walked over to the bed and leaned into it, “that ticket guy had no idea you littles were back there, i think i brought along some professionals.”

You all smiled with one another, the thought of another trip to the drive in already on your minds, and the excitement of breaking the rules only made it all the more fun.

“You kids figure out what you wanted for snacks?”

“Yes, popcorn please?” You asked him with puppy dog eyes, hoping that would be enough to convince him to get you each your own large popcorns. You knew he never gave in but it was always worth a shot.

“Of course! Can’t go the the movies and not get popcorn! What about drinks? Eddie,” He pointed over to his nephew, doing his best to remember their usual drinks from whenever he took you all out to dinner for your sleepovers, “you’re getting your Pepsi?” Eddie noddies and smiled, and Wayne slowly went down the line, guessing one by one, “Grant wants a Sprite, and i know one of you likes Dr. Pepper…” He looked between Jeff and Gareth, Gareth speaking up as soon as he heard the mention of it.

“Me! It’s me, i want it!” He shouted excitedly.

“And i want a lemonade please.” Jeff said with a smile.

Wayne nodded and looked to you,

“Little miss? You like to get… that red cream soda, don’t you?”

You nodded with an excited smile on your lips.

“Alright, and everyone wants popcorn?”

“Yes please!” You all said in unison.

“Perfect. Eddie, you help them set up the back of the truck so you’re all bundled up while i get the snacks.”

“Yes sir.”

Eddie stood up in the bed of the truck, stretching his arms up over his head, the four of you following his lead and doing the same, giving Wayne a little wave as he took off to the snack bar.

You each made sure to help one another out, grabbing the two biggest blankets and doing your best to lay them out flat for one another in the bed so you had a comfortable spot to rest on. The rest of the blankets were used to keep yourselves warm, though you were sure you wouldn’t need them. You were bundled up enough with your jackets on, but for the end of October it was quite nice out.

The trees still had a little bit of green on them to contrast with the browns and yellows and oranges of fall. The breeze outside was just enough to still let you have fun outside with the boys whenever you wanted.

The drive in made it all the more fun.

Grant and Jeff each sat at your sides, Eddie and Gareth sitting next to them with just enough wiggle room around you all to take the candy from your pockets and move it into the middle. While Wayne was grabbing the snacks, you figured it was the perfect time to trade your candies before the movie started.

“Ok, Eddie gets all the Almond Joys to give to Wayne,” Jeff started as he took fistfuls of candy out of his pockets, “does anyone else want anything specific?”

“I want the peppermint patties!” Grant shouted as he tossed his candy into the center.

“Ugh, they’re yours.” Eddie groaned, “I don’t know why you like those so much, they taste like toothpaste.”

“They do not!” Grant argued back as you giggled, watching them have this argument again for what felt like the hundredth time.

“(y/n)?” Gareth asked, quickly getting your attention, “If i give you two of my Pop Rocks, can i have your Ring Pop?”

You looked down and peeked at the candy in his lap, smiling when you saw he had exactly what you wanted,

“Ok, but only if i can trade you my cherry Jolly Ranchers for your Airheads.”

“Deal!”

You sorted the candies amongst yourselves, each of you ending up with exactly what you wanted. A little bit of excitement erupted when you all realized there was much more to trade when you got back to the trailer.

Without even realizing it, the sky had turned from orange and purple to a deep navy blue, the moon and stars so clear when you tilted your heads up in awe.

“Alright kiddos, line up,” Wayne approached the truck bed, his arms full of popcorn bags and a tray of drinks in hand, it was shocking he could do it all so easily, “Eddie, here’s your Pepsi.” He handed Eddie one of the tall paper cups and a small bag of popcorn from the bundle, making his way down the line and giving you each your snacks, “Grant, you’re Sprite. Jeff gets his lemonade, and Gareth, you’re Dr. Pepper. And little miss gets her red cream soda.”

You took you drink and popcorn with a little giggle, your legs hanging off the back end of the truck as you wet your popcorn into your lap. The boys each got settled into their spaces, Eddie laying against the back while Grant sat on the other side of him, Jeff and Gareth laid next to each other on their stomachs over the blanket while Wayne grabbed his folding chair from the truck and set it up next to the bed to watch the movie with you.

You gave him a quick smile as he set the little cooler he packed next to the chair,

“Thank you Mr. Wayne for taking us to the movies.”

“Anytime little miss!” He smiled back to you and sat back in his chair, looking at the giant white screen and seeing the other families around you gather up their own kids to get ready for the movie.

The sky was black, the stars were brightly scattered, the moon was hanging perfectly right at the corner of the giant screen, and as soon as the lights were turned off you could hear the excited chatters of children and their parents, the groups of middle schoolers who crammed themselves into an older siblings car, and the annoyed teenagers who came there for a night alone. You even let a giggle or two slip when you heard how excited the boys were behind you.

“Hey Eddie?” You turned to him as he sat behind you, “Will you tell me if it gets too scary?”

“Yeah! Come up here and sit between me and Grant,” He grabbed the drink next to him and moved it into his lap, Grant doing the same for his popcorn as you moved to sit between them, your back against the truck as you saw the screen illuminate from the projector, “i’ll tell you when the scary parts happen and we’ll make sure you’re ok.”

“We promise (y/n).” Grant said as he turned to you with a smile.

Jeff and Gareth saw the three of you sitting together against the truck and quietly moved themselves to sit with you, Jeff in front of Eddie and Gareth in front of Grant.

“I’m so excited!” Jeff whispered.

“Me too!” You whispered back as you heard the theme song quietly start to play.

Wayne looked over and smirked as he saw you all sitting together in the bed of the truck. Bundled up in your jackets, sharing your candy, enjoying your popcorn with your eyes wide with excitement as the opening credits started to roll.

He knew that Eddie had it rough the last few year with all the family issues, but he knew that this is exactly where he was meant to be.

With his friends, watching a scary movie on halloween night just like kids are supposed to, hopped up on sugar and basking in the excitement of being able to eat candy for days. Wayne smiled to himself knowing that Eddie and the rest of you would be remembering tonight for a while, and so would he.

Maybe he’d take the long way home this time.

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head?

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 1364

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.

You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.

Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.

Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.

The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.

“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.

“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.

“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.

Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.

You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.

“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.

There we go.

*Eddie’s POV*

Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!

The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?

She better let me make the basement my room!

Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.

YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?

He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.

*End Eddie’s POV*

You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.

“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.

“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.

Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!

Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.

“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.

“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.

You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him.  They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.

“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.

“How loud?” Your mom asked.

“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”

“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.

Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.

Finally! My own car!

The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.

Then Vecna will make a surprise return.

What the hell?

This campaign is going to be epic!

His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.

The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?

You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

Here we fucking go.

“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”

God he’s hot.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”

Assholes.

Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.

“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”

He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

[mysticmunson]

between four walls (e.m.)

a/o/b: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

summary: when you disappear from school for a few days, eddie is a bit bewildered, until he has a sneaking suspicion.

warning: a/o/b, smut, language

an: hi friends, thank you so much for another follower milestone! i asked what you would like next and this won! i've been working on a/o/b fics off and on for a few months, i think its very fun so feel free to message me ideas about them for blurbs! all my love. xx elora.

The sticky air of Hawkins, Indiana made Eddie’s slovenly curls cling to his neck, likely getting tangled in his beaded, silver chain as his sneakers padded across the rubble. The last place he wanted to be was in Hawkins High, the fluorescent lights bouncing off the cream walls too poignantly and banners announcing peer events. 

He had always had a distaste for conformity, but after presenting as an Alpha, he clandestinely craved a sense of ordinariness. His toes pressed against the tip of his sneakers, his favorite leather jacket felt tighter, and his skin felt like the fizz on a freshly opened Coca-Cola. Sensations fluctuate depending on the day with his body attempting to steady itself as his mind tries to comprehend his new demeanor. 

While every day had been weird since that fateful day last month, his friends tried to maintain normality by focusing on Hellfire or acknowledging how his buff physique made him look menacing, but things had been slightly off with you. 

Every day you sat beside Eddie, even if he assured he wouldn’t be upset if you decided to relocate to avoid the relentless teasing he faced, but you stayed. After years of friendship, you chose to ignore any conflicted gazes, opting to enjoy your company. With satin ribbons in your hair, flowy, floral dresses that rest just above your knees, and your soft skin that always smelled like vanilla from your tube of hand lotion, he felt protective over you.

So when you moved from his left to the very end of the table, each inch felt like miles, cursing himself for feeling so intensely. Always admiring your beauty from a respectful distance, he adamantly maintained the friendship boundary, learning the line and fighting to take a step over.

As he sat in his math class, he awaited your arrival to your assigned seat at the second row of wooden desks, but the bell rang and it remained empty. This was the third day in a row, the first time you had even missed a full day, always finding some hidden strength to persevere through most of the school day. Hell, you often grilled Eddie on his lack of punctuality when it came to his education. 

The hairs on his arms stood up, his foot tapping relentlessly against the freshly waxed tile below, trying to rationalize your behavior and disappearance. Plucking the loose threads on his ripped jeans, he couldn’t bother to even think of equations. 

Your lack of communication had him on high alert, resisting the urge to confront you in fear of scaring you. He didn’t feel a need to worry about it until he presented, his voice dropped a tad lower, his facial hair growing faster which left him with consistent stubble, and his eyes felt sharper despite their baby-like softness. 

As class ended with Eddie not retaining a word of information, he looked at the double doors sending sunlight through, thinking how easy it would be to drive to your house and find out what was wrong. Why you hadn’t been answering his calls, why you weren’t at school, and why you even missed Hellfire. Granted, you didn’t know much about Dungeons and Dragons and usually just sat and watched, it felt peculiar to see your chair empty. 

Meanwhile in a quiet house at the curve of a cul de sac, you laid in bed wearing a shirt a size too big and underwear, leaving your mouth open to breathe. The fever encompassing your body added to your discomfort, tears selvage as your tired eyes stare at the wall, hoping that you would be back to normal soon.

Initially convinced it was a stomach ache, an awful flu that had you withering away in your bed, flustered as could be with clammy hands. But your gut wasn’t repulsed, it was the opposite, despite your body feeling like it was on fire as you laid in your bed, alone. 

It had been two miserable days since you presented as an omega, leaving you stranded with nothing to assist yourself. The clock only seemed to be moving slower as you could barely sleep without finding yourself in the depths of another dream, a dream of him.

“I’m glad we checked on you, you look like hell.” Robin joked, walking through your bedroom door with Nancy right behind. Even in your delirious state, you knew they typically didn’t hang out together, furrowing your brows. 

“Steve’s in the car waiting,” Nancy responded to your voiceless query, reaching her hand up to your forehead with a frown. “Shit, you’re burning up, have you gone to a doctor?” 

You shook your head, burrowing half of your face into your pillow with a deflated sigh, “I feel like shit and my stomach hurts, but not in a bad way, but so much that it is painful?” You stuttered in confusion, eyes hazy and unfocused. 

Robin fiddled with the various knick knacks in your room, lifting a pair of earrings to her in the mirror. Nancy stood back, looking at you with a thoughtful expression, rubbing her chin almost comically. 

“I also just want to call Eddie, but I keep feeling like I’m going to cry if I do. I talk to him everyday! It’s not my period either, I don’t know what's happening!” You exasperated, clenching your sheets closer to your chest as Nancy’s features clenched, sitting on the corner of your bed. 

Eddie had been your best friend for years and your longing crush for most of them. Conversations on the phone were routine for you, usually playfully arguing about something meaningless or watching a tv show while giving commentary. 

“Sounds like you're presenting, dude.” Robin laughed, turning around, only to be met with your fear filled face and Nancy’s “Did you seriously just say that?” expression that Robin had experienced frequently. 

With your parents being an alpha and omega duo, the chances they gave birth to one was highly likely, it was something you had expected. The days prior had left you anxious and exhausted, believing it just to be school related and nothing to note. 

“What?” You mumbled, sitting up, breath picking up as tears welled up, “Eddie’s an alpha, right? Oh my God!”

“Hey, hey! Calm down, you’re fine.” Nancy assured, pushing your shoulder gently back, looking at Robin for some form of support.

“I just want Eddie, but I-” You whimpered, hands coming up to your face before a random flannel was thrown at you from Robin. 

His flannel. 

His fucking red and black flannel he had accidentally left last weekend, you could’ve cried when you smelt it, the pain intensifying, but also blooming peace. 

“I don’t think that’s the best idea right now.” Nancy stroked your hair, even her heart breaking a bit at your muffled sadness. “Just try to relax, drink some water, and distract yourself. Okay?” You nodded, thanking them through the fabric in front of your face. 

As the girls trudged down the stairs, Robin looked at Nancy with a bewildered face, the front door closing behind them.

“We should tell Eddie! Apparently it’s fucking brutal the first time around!” She kept her tone hushed, Nancy sighing as she looked at the grass beneath our feet.

“She’s had a crush on him for years, Rob. What if something happens and it ruins their friendship? We have to let nature run its course. If she calls him, so be it, but we can’t be the ones to make that call.” Nancy sighed, opening Steve’s back seat door and piling in, Robin filing in the front.

The days for you were fairly torturous, only comforted by the smokey scent of the old flannel and the fantasies you entertained. Your mind began to run as you envisioned Eddie in all his alpha glory, which you hadn’t had the honor of seeing since he immediately goes into hiding when his rut hits.

His broad shoulders, firm grip that is free of rings since his hands swell, his plush lips cascading down your frame. The thought alone made you whimper, opening your eyes to glance at your pink phone, your shaking hands not even able to spin the dial. Your wooden bedside table felt miles away as you stared at it, tears pooling in your eyes at your helplessness. 

Part of you hoped he noticed your exodus while the other hoped things would go completely back to normal when you returned. The concept was naive, knowing there was no way you would be able to go back to a regular friendship with him, a thought that plagued you as soon as he returned to school after his first rut.

The front doors of the school couldn’t open quick enough, having not spent a week apart throughout your whole friendship. Even when your family would go out of town, you would call and talk on the phone as if he were right in front of you. 

His shoes squeaked against the freshly waxed tile of Ms. Green’s history class, Eddie strolling to his assigned seat towards the front. His chest was broader, thighs a bit thicker, and his face had a certain maturity that you didn’t recall. He turned over his shoulder, ignoring the stares from everyone else and locking eye contact with you, giving you a grin that you exchanged. 

When you walked out of class, he yanked you into a hug playfully, laughing in a huskier tone. For a moment you felt dizzy, shaking your head and pushing the unwarranted anxiety to the side. He was your best friend who you had seen shitfaced, crying at romcoms, and shared his bed when you didn’t want to go home. 

Things felt different though, never having been friends with an Alpha made everything novice. Each interaction with him made you shiver, feeling light headed with a subtle pain in your abdomen. So you forced space between you, keeping conversation to a minimum and avoiding him if possible. You assumed the pain would subside after a few days, but every time you tried to inch closer, it came crawling back.

In the solitude of your bedroom, your mind drifted to Eddie, starting with the curiosity of where he was or who he was with. Then the thought of him with someone to help him through his rut crept in, bringing a wave of sadness with it. Your feelings for Eddie were prominent for a long time, but you feared losing your best friend, choosing to have him as a pal than not at all.

You thought of him buffing up even more than when he was at school, remembering when you felt his crotch pressed against you when he scooted past, the prominent bulge gathering your attention. Envisioning the chance to touch him made your mouth water, trembling in your pajamas at the thought of his arms holding you and pressing his chest against yours. The way his dick wouldn’t fit your hand, having to use both to fully wrap around it and pleasing him. 

The idea anyone else did it made you feel sick, grabbing his sweatshirt he left over once and inhaling the scent. The seemingly innocent action made you feel like a pervert as his perfume lingered faintly on the cotton. 

Those thoughts felt like pure cotton candy to the ones you had now, of how he could walk in and do whatever he wanted and you’d love it. No matter what action he was committing, you would cry and beg for more. Even the idea of him being in the same room as you had you whimpering, twisting and turning with huffs of built frustration. 

Nancy and Robin stopped by a few times to check in on you, knowing you were too overwhelmed to make yourself food or get water. The school hours they had would usually sync with your nap time as you always woke at random moments in the night. Eddie had mentioned you to Robin that morning, wondering if she had seen you, which she attempted to deflect. 

“Why don’t you and Wheeler sit with my boys today?” 

Nancy almost killed Robin for saying yes, not because of Eddie’s reputation, but because she knew Robin was close to breaking. Always going soft after seeing you, saying how they need to just get you help and speed up this process.

So with sandwiches in hand, they sat quietly as the members of Corroded Coffin conversed about the latest Hellfire meeting. The younger boys were on a freshman field trip, conveniently leaving room for the girls to sit. Eddie snacked on the cold cafeteria food with lingering eyes on them, their skin crawling at the information they knew. 

Thankfully, the talkative nature of Gareth and Jeff derailed everyone’s attention, only noticing the 5 minutes left when Nancy took a glance at her watch as they went to throw away their trash. With freedom at their fingertips, it only seemed pleasantly ironic for it all to come tumbling down when Jason Carver appeared.

The potent bags under his eyes made him resemble a tortured Greek God, bronzed skin under the sun kissed hairs on his head. Eddie opened his mouth to begin his tangent, feeling his legs twitching to hop upon the tabletops, even though his recent development made him a bit calmer.

“Where is she?” Jason asked, not even glancing at the man beside him, locking on the girl's enlarged eyes. 

“Who?” Robin questioned, providing an awkward smile that made Jason scoff, wishing his skills developed enough to find you himself.

Jason was one of the other alpha’s at school, his rut helping him with sports and wearing it proudly on his sleeve. His progression made sense, fulfilling the family history of powerful alphas, but he had yet to find an omega to care for. Or even just to hold him over as most went into seclusion during their heats.

He wouldn’t have even known if a fellow member of the basketball team overheard the girls talking in hushed tones in the hallway, presuming no one could hear them over the sounds of chatter and clashing lockers. 

As if intended, the bell rang loudly, everyone standing to return to class. Jason kept his intense gaze until his friends yanked him away, pestering him for information about that night's practice. Eddie’s gaze didn’t waver as he looked at the both of them, smelling a tinge of anxiety on them, a convenient sense he inhabited. 

“You guys have 10 seconds to say why Jason Carver just said her name.” He responded with fraudulent tranquility, his black lunch pail secured tightly in his palm, holding his ground despite the varying rushing bodies beside them. 

After a moment of silence, Nancy found herself surprised at her lack of a quick rebuttal, something about the look Eddie was giving her making her freeze. It wasn’t one of infatuation, more akin to fear as his tensity remained.

“She presented!” Robin sighed, shoulders relaxing as if pounds had been removed from her chest. Her friend smacked her arm, watching as the man across from them went stagnant. Despite the fleeting deliberations, all the girls across from him saw was his clenched jaw and his eyes diverting to the spot you typically sat.

“As what? And why the fuck does Jason Carver know before me?” He gritted out, clenched fists glued at the side of his thighs.

The bell signaling class started went off, jolting Nancy and Robin from their subtle haze, trying to think of anything to divert his attention. However, Robin couldn’t stop thinking about how you were crying for him, that you would feel infinitely better if she just mentioned the slight detail.

“I don’t know how he found out Eddie-” Nancy snapped, becoming irritated with the theatrics, wishing she was just in algebra class for the first time ever. 

“As an omega!” Robin blurted, Eddie’s eyes widening as his fists loosened, “She presented and has been a mess! She’s too emotional to do anything, just wallowing away and whining for you.” The last part trailed off, but Eddie understood it clearly, his instincts that just were beginning to sprout commencing to full bloom.

With tunnel vision, he found his way out of the school, not caring if any teacher saw him. His mind was on you. You, who had been crying in pain for him for days and no one cared to mention it. 

The way to your home went by in a blur, glad he knew the route well enough to not maintain complete fixation on the journey. His respiring didn’t cease as he sped down the old roads, trying his best to avoid the potholes or random piles of trash. 

He barely put the car into park before he was racing up your driveway, putting his hand behind the potted plant at the right side of the maroon door. With the key in hand, he was soon in, putting it in the nearby bowl at the entryway table. The house was quiet, everything in a perfect state, making him remember your parents were out of town for the week. 

The aroma reached his nose like a tidal wave, unfamiliar yet agrestal as he saw the light glowing from under the door at the end of the hall. His socks hit the carpet as he yanked his shoes off, promenading down the beige carpet with small floral detailing. 

The door opened when his hand gripped the bronze handle, finding you asleep in an oversized shirt, curled in on yourself with his lapsed flannel. A warm spread across his chest and his groin, stifling the animalistic noise fighting through. Approaching you, he pushed the hair from your face, feeling the intensity of your fever on his shaking palms.

His scent made you stir, squeaking as your body searched for the touch with the twist of your neck. He trailed his finger down the bridge of your nose, noting the small pores he had never been able to see before, trailing to your cupid's bow. 

Your eyes fluttered open as he knelt beside you, cupping your cheek gently as if you were fine china. Your pupils were dilated, practically encompassing your whole iris, and he could feel your internal heat increasing with his proximity. 

“Eddie.” You mumbled, confused if this was a cruel dream that your hormonal mind was conjuring, but he smiled, his thumb brushing past your bottom lashes. Lunging forward without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him on the bed, legs squirming with the growing discomfort between them.

As his body enveloped yours, he clenched his eyes tight, feeling the profound burst of testosterone. His stupor was interrupted when he felt a surge of wetness on his jeans, pulling away to see the slick that seeped through your thin cotton panties and to your mattress.

Wanting to avoid any embarrassment on your part, he smashed his lips to yours, keeping a steady hand on your jaw to maintain the pacing. There was no time to think about what you were doing or what your friendship would be after this, just the need to be close.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you, my omega.” He puffed as you whimpered, sitting up on his knees to pull off his shirt, initially going to throw it on the floor until you snatched it to bring to your nose. He plucked it out of your grasp with a teasing smile, putting it above your head beside your white pillows.

His hands found the hem of your shirt, inching it slowly up your body, revealing the skin he had been dreaming of. Discarding the old cloth, he stared in hunger at your chest as his hands grasped the mounds of flesh upon them. Wincing at your cry from the abrupt touch, simultaneously becoming harder beneath his constricting jeans.

Managing a way to strip them, he was left in boxers that did little to conceal his arousal, yet all his attention was on the sea between your legs. The fabric was so wet, the baby pink went to a darkened tone, making him rip them off.

“Oh, this cunt is just drooling for me, isn’t it?” He chuckled, running a finger through your folds before slotting it between his lips. Gasping, you reached to grab him, which he obliged. His lips met yours like slotted puzzle pieces, shimmying off his last article of clothing.

“Alpha, please.” You mewled, eyes wide as your lips hung open as he grabbed his length. The growl that escaped was impetuous, your nipples skimming across his milky chest, his hand stopping your jaw from when you tried to look downward.

“You’re okay, omega- Shh, it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” He says softly, thumb stroking across your scorching skin, applying slight pressure.

He had always been well endowed, but after his presentation, things became more intense, especially when he was aroused. Eddie thought the idea that alpha’s couldn’t be with beta’s because it was dangerous was just dramatics, but when he came to full hardness with his knot in place, it made sense.

The last thing he wanted was for you to see him below right now, knowing your brain was already scattered and that he didn’t want to scare you. As an omega, your body was made for this, it was begging for it. It just took a little getting used to. 

His tip had barely probed your walls before you winced, clutching onto his shoulders like a lifeline. Though he knew you were in slight discomfort, something brought him amenity knowing he was going to help you feel much better.

Protruding further in, he slowly rocked his hips back and forth, pressing wet kisses to your skin and savoring the essence coming from it. He thought he could become high on you alone as you basked in his own scent, feeling as if it coated you from head to toe. 

“Feelin’ okay?” Eddie mustered, jolting his head back slightly when you started nodding profusely, making him chuckle and go deeper.

“You f-feel so good, so so good. Y-your cock,” You cried out, the tears tumbling down with mixed moans, “You’re so pretty and so n-nice to me, s-so nice even when you don’t-t have to be, which is so nice of y-you.” 

“Baby,” Eddie’s chest constricts and he smiles down to continue, only realizing he had inched his way fully inside when his balls bounced against the swell of your ass. A loud moan that vibrates within his chest comes out, making you grip to him more securely. 

“S-so big and full, so full, I don’t want you to leave, please.” You whimpered, hand reaching to feel his hair, “You m-mean so much to me a-and I l-love you. Thank you, thank you.”

“Sweetheart, shh, it’s okay.” He coos with a huge grin, almost laughing with how precious you are to him right now, “I love you too, I’m not going anywhere.” 

The first orgasm you experience hits you like a sucker punch, his words of affirmation being the final straw, shaking like a leaf against his firm chest. Your mind goes blank as you let out a string of noises, feeling the way he feels inside you in such intense detail. Your eyes reopened as you whined at the pain still persisting, which Eddie was mere moments away from solving.

He never thought he’d be able to see you like this, not even as an omega, just in general. Your iris’ so wide, he could see his reflection down to the small lines next to his lips. It felt so natural to be inside you, to be protecting you and fulfilling your needs. The thought that Jason Carver almost made it here made his blood boil, thrusting sharply out of instinct, before focusing on you.

“Want you cum, Eddie, want your cum, alpha. Please, please, please! I’ll be good and do whatever you say, you can do whatever you want to me, just, please!” You cried out, sending Eddie to his final straw, his knot snapping loose with a potent moan. 

Sublime existed within you, he thought, his mind going completely blank as he pumped you full of his release. Your sobs had turned into subdued mewls as your body felt relaxed for the first time in days, clutching to Eddie with your face in his neck.

Groaning like an old man, he managed to roll onto his back with you still attached and startled by the movement. “It’s okay, just get comfortable, sweetheart.” He murmured, yanking your blue quilted blanket over the both of you despite the sweat, already expecting your come down to be reasonably harsh.

To say Eddie wasn’t the best student was valid, but he did pay attention in health class, learning the dynamics of alphas, omegas, and betas. There was something so intriguing about it to him, thinking it was intricate enough to be a part of Dungeons and Dragons, when a brave warrior saves a helpless civilian. 

Even back in the freezing classroom, he felt his heart clench at the explanation of omegas while some tried to joke about it and laugh. Describing the genuine distraught they endure if they’re without a caretaker, a toy being a last resort because of how much emotional support they would need afterwards. 

Alpha’s could get away with going solo, a bit pent up and lonely, but nothing like omega’s who became practically helpless. For an auxiliary learning experience, they played a video of a female omega in heat for the room for pre-presenting 18 year old boys. There wasn’t any sex, but it was how emotional she became after just a few minutes, only finding peace when a man came in and picked her up, her alpha. They played one of an alpha, but the pretense didn’t last nearly as long as he could smell out his omega in the room from the start.

The worry that you had been in here for two days plagued him as you took deep breaths on his chest, his knot gradually diminishing. He squeezed you tighter unintentionally, angry that he didn’t know sooner, that he didn’t realize it or that no one told him. 

“Look at me.” He stated, a bit too sharp than intended, your obedience falling into place as your chin rested against his chest. Your cheeks were still wet, sniffling as the aftermath endured, looking with distressed eyes.

“Don’t wait to call me, okay? It doesn’t matter if you’re embarrassed. You could’ve hurt yourself.” He exaggerated, regretting his tone as soon as your lip began to wobble, “Hey, sweetheart, hey. It’s okay, I’m not mad, I just don’t want you to be in pain, okay?”

You nodded as he rearranged you both, his length slipping out, much to your dismay. But the need to nest festered within seconds as he went to go get you both drinks and snacks, grabbing his shirt and flannel. Even his jeans joined the pile as it surrounded you, nuzzling into the cotton of his top, toes flexing in delight. 

He entered with some water, granola bars and bananas, somehow remembering they were a positive supplement for after a heat even though he forgets his own house number sometimes. Chuckling at the sight, he sat against the headboard as you shuffled into his side, curling up. Holding the cup to your lips, he swiped the spare stream that dripped down your tongue before drinking some himself.

Handing you a piece of the fruit, he opened his snack, but kept his attention on you as you looked downward. His fingers found the loose strands of hair by your ear, stroking them rhythmically as you finished and handed him the peel. You both sat contently as the wrapper and peel were thrown into the bin, but he could feel the slump of your frame, assuming you hadn’t got much rest the past few days. 

“Go to sleep, omega, I’ll be here. You’re safe.” He assured, scooting farther down so you were both lying on your backs, wrapping his arms around you. 

The sleep was like no other before, instantly submerged into tranquility of varying levels, Eddie being exhausted and waiting till you were out to fall. While you slept, your body still buzzed with nerves, still coming to terms with the new elements surfacing. 

Stirring awake in the dark room, you rubbed your eyes and smelled the pheromones exuding from Eddie’s sleeping body that you could now process. The discomfort between your legs surged with wetness, worried you would wake him and he would be displeased at how early it was. The red clock blinked at 5:43am, the sun wasn’t even beginning to show.

Mistakenly peering down at his boxers, your mouth watered at his bulge, feeling an encompassing need to see it. You wanted to press kisses all over him, around the coarse hairs below his belly and sucking on his tip to taste his arousal.

Eddie woke up to quiet fussing, feeling you twist against his chest and look up at him, shocked to see his eyes opened. He could see the guilt right on your face, to which he silently shook his head with a smile, stroking your head. 

“Alpha, ‘m sorry, I need your c-cock, please.” You begged, wiggling down to his waistband, pulling out his half hardened length, “S-so big.”

He knew he only had a few minutes before you wouldn’t be able to have him in your mouth anymore, becoming too thick for your throat, so he let you indulge in this. You wanted this, he could see the drool dripping down his shaft as you sucked him, but he also knew this wasn’t going to do anything for you emotionally.

“My pretty, sweet, omega.” His voice coaxed in a morning gruff, “Can have this for just a minute, okay? Did so good yesterday, so proud of you.” 

He saw your eyes haze over, eyelids drooping as you hummed around him, his hips resisting the instinct to snap forward. Your repeated suckle made him thicker, unbeknownst to you as the action only soothed you, ignoring the growing pain between your legs.

His hand intertwined with yours as he looked out the slit of the curtains of the window, the orange rays of the sun just cresting the Earth. Something about waking up before sunrise felt forbidden, like the world wasn’t awake yet, that this was stolen time. Time where only you and him existed.

The ache of his knot began to form as he reached down to pull you up, only to hear a yelp. He flinched, looking down to see your wide eyes with his dick between your lips. He forced his growl down to not give you mixed messages, only raising his brows and curling his finger up to him. 

When you failed to do so, he lifted you despite your begs, laying you down and hovering over. He hushed you, feeling himself throb against your pretty thighs, ones he definitely wanted to explore more when you weren’t as sensitive. If he were to love on them now, he thinks it’d feel more cruel to you than anything.

You wiggled beneath him, faint pleads escaping your lips as his scent covered you, not being able to comprehend all the feelings that swarmed you. Eddie managed to throw off his boxers, caging you in beneath him as his necklace trickled on your sternum. One of his arms went downward, grabbing the base of himself and giving a few tugs.

“I know what you need, omega.” He gritted, his tip sliding between your silk-like folds with ease, making him shudder. Somehow this managed to calm you down slightly, knowing he knew what to do, even just based on pure instincts.

Slotting inside you, he shut his eyes and moaned, your wetness helping to aid the size of himself. Your moans may have been considered singing if anyone heard the way they flowed together and he wondered if it just sounded that way as your alpha. 

“Alpha, please, need your knot. Need so many.” You begged, breaths shallow as your body began to shake, already succumbing to your first orgasm. He couldn’t help, but chuckle at you, nuzzled into the crevice of your neck as he kissed the skin softly.

“My sensitive girl.” He mused, pressing himself further to rub at your clit, making you jolt. His speed increased as he felt himself growing impatient. He could last longer than this, he knew that, but he wasn’t going to try and prolong it, especially when it helped make you feel safe.

“I’ve got a rule, omega,” Eddie began, your eyes wide like saucers as you looked up, “You have to come twice every time I knot, okay?”

Your petulant whine sounded through the room before he hushed you with his own lips, his hand going between your legs to rub at the bud of nerves. Your legs shook profusely against his hips, not expecting the added pleasure that left you speechless. 

“Come with me, baby. Gonna fill you up, give you my knot.” He growled, gripping onto the headboard to thrust faster than before, “Fuck, need to fill you up. My omega.” He watched as your tits bounced in rhythm, your orgasm sneaking up on you.

His knot shot into you with velocity, covering your walls completely as you mewled, coming for a second time as your back arched. Eddie thought he almost dented the metal headboard, his hands a mix of red and white as he let go, twitching from the intensity his body was encountering.

Peering down, he saw your eyes shut, mouth opened as you caught your breath with just the tip of your tongue poking out down the middle. He smiled, pushing the hair from your face and kissing you. His knot was still throbbing as it deposited completely within you, hoping he’d be able to keep doing this. Now more prepared for when he rolled onto his back, you just adjusted to be comfortable, hoping he wouldn’t get soft too fast and you could continue this close.

The first presentation was usually a false heat, it has all the same symptoms, but there is little chance of pregnancy. It was one of the reasons he wasn’t too paranoid about giving you his knot, since that is what sedates omegas, but he didn’t want to be too risky. His heart bursted as you settled in his arms, wondering what would happen after your heat was over, trying to assure himself you wanted him. You whined for him and he wasn’t going to let that go.

The next few days consisted of waking up, having sex, Eddie cooking for you, and naps. It was like a slice of heaven in four walls, embracing the affection you were both giving each other. 

He had gone back home once to grab clothes, cigarettes, and some notebooks to work on his campaign and music. He had given Wayne a call the first day, saying he was out for the night, but would be back home soon. He hung up before he could hear the response, but knew he’d have to face his uncle eventually. They were close, practically father and son, but they weren’t open in that nature.

He pulled up to the trailer, seeing the familiar truck in the dirt in front, taking a deep breath before stepping on the damp ground. Opening the door gently, he spotted his uncle asleep on the recliner as the news played softly on the TV. Going straight for his bedroom, he shoved as much as he could in his duffle bag.

Truthfully, he was missing you more than he wanted to admit. It was only minutes, yet, he felt a pain in his chest that you were alone. He did wait for you to fall asleep as you tried to act okay with him departing for an hour, untangling your arms and legs from one another. 

How he managed to quickly pack his bag with minimal noise was a mystery, but he was grateful, hoping to utilize whatever freetime he had with writing or planning. He even brought some extra shirts for your nest as those were your favorite and his jeans kept rubbing weirdly against your cheeks. Racing to the front door, he had almost escaped as his grasp reached the handle.

“Where were you at and why aren’t you in school, boy?” Wayne grumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes as he laid back. Something about his demeanor could make him seem laid back, but he meant business when it came to Eddie’s future and he didn’t want to add another senior year.

“It’s excused.” Eddie responded cooly, mentioning quickly that he stayed at your home, leaning against the door and rocking on his heels. His nonchalant attitude made the older Munson open his eyes, looking with a squint as he adjusted to the light and to whatever game he thought his nephew was playing at.

Awaiting the explanation, Eddie imagined the ground swallowing him whole, teleporting him back to your cute bedroom with frills and stuffed animals. But no, he was standing in front of his uncle, who was in no mood for shenanigans after an exhausting shift. 

“She presented. The school excuses both, uh, parties.” Eddie mumbled, the rubber of his shoes touching as he looked down at them, not seeing the way the man in front of him straightened up. 

Humming in response, Wayne sat in thought as the boy refused to make eye contact, unsure as to what his reaction would be. How does one react to something like this?

“Takin’ care of her? She’s a sweet girl, always liked her.” Wayne mused, making their eyes finally meet. While the question could’ve been interpreted in a more vulgar way, he knew what he meant. Meant that he was actually taking care of you as an alpha should, not just to get laid.

“She is and yeah. Feeling better now, didn’t get help till two days after. She asked for me.” He trails his words with pink cheeks, kicking himself for saying too much, but Wayne gives a small chuckle. Not at what he said, but at how much Eddie’s demeanor reminded him of when he was young.

“Alright, alright. Standin’ here looking like a prisoner, go.” He laughed, not really needing any other information as Eddie left within a blink. 

The drive back to your house was tortuous, practically smelling you on his clothes in a way that became addicting. With little shame, he inhaled in his shirt deeply while at a red light, the car behind him eventually honking to send him forward.

It was crazy to him that yesterday morning felt so long ago now, that the conversation with Nancy and Robin wasn’t even 24 hours ago. He knows news is never expected fully, but this took him by surprise and made him feel less guilty about getting off to the thought of you during his rut. 

He wondered if that’s why you popped in his head no matter how many times he tried to distract himself, your pretty face dewy as he fucked into you at a, seemingly, unforgiving pace. His hands all over your body and you reacted instinctively to them before he filled you to the brim with his knot.

The thoughts ran through his brain until he pulled in your driveway, grabbing his bag and the spare set of keys that used to reside behind the large flower pot. The muffled sounds of music could be heard from your boombox as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes. Jumping over steps until slipping on the edge, he caught himself by the rail, puffing with annoyance.

A whine rang through his ear like church bells, adding to the ache between his legs that he hadn’t noticed before. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you immediately lit up at his presence, holding open your arms. Plopping down the bag, he dramatically raced towards you while crouching and swooped you into his arms with a laugh.

Litters of kisses were left on both sets of skin, feeling an overcast of warmth as you returned to each other. He only pulled away to drag his bag closer, rummaging through it before lifting up an old Hawkins crewneck sweater, slipping it on you over your large shirt. You practically melted at the way his scent took you, shrinking your head, arms and legs until you were in a tight ball within it. 

“Glad you like it, baby.” He chuckled, kissing the patch of your hair that peeked through as he unloaded some of his clothes. It was almost comical how little articles he brought, knowing that most of their days would not involve clothing at all or would only be on long enough to be taken off. 

Putting it in a neat pile by your dresser, he dug in his bag to see the condoms made specifically for alpha’s, dreading the fact he would need to wear them soon. He decided to keep it hidden, not wanting to upset you when you weren’t using them yet. He could hear the soft snoring from the tucked away ball on its side, biting back a large grin.

Shimmying off his clothing besides his royal blue briefs, he molded himself around your frame and lifted the blankets over top. He felt your arms wiggling before a practically inaudible whimper as it dawned on him that you couldn’t feel the arm holes in your slumber.

“Goofball.” He mutters to himself, unable to help the smile and pink cheeks as he uncurls you to bring to his chest. Your lips puckered briefly against his peck, the subconscious kiss making him want to squeeze you in joy. He liked existing inside these four walls with you.

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[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Realistically, Steve knows the band won’t hang around Chicago forever. He knows they’re out promoting a new album; knows they’ll have to move on and that Eddie has to go with them. It doesn’t stop him from wanting Eddie to stay; to live in the quick familiarity he’s built within Steve’s little found family.

Eddie and Robin seem to have already created their own secret language, all gestures and movement and eye contact Steve picks up on but can’t quite read. He’s already picking on the Party like he’s known them their whole lives; ruffling Dustin’s hair, elbowing Mike, throwing his arm around Will’s shoulders, and giving Lucas little shoves. 

It’s easy; so easy to get caught up in how charismatic Eddie is. Steve has a hard time keeping his eyes off him, and Eddie knows. He keeps making comments, throwing winks in Steve’s direction, seeing right through every wall he’s ever built around himself and Steve is caught between being obsessed with it and terrified. 

He stops drinking after the one beer, worried he’ll make things weird if he gets anywhere near tipsy, opting to stay as far away from the possibility as he can. If anyone notices, they don’t comment.

Lucas is chatting animatedly with Jeff, Max sitting close by, twisting braids into El’s hair. Dustin, Mike and Will appear to be grilling Gareth and Freak about dungeon and dragon campaigns Eddie used to run. Nancy has her arm looped through Robin’s, but her attention is on the phone in her hands, as Eddie and Robin talk about what touring is like.

“Where else are you going on this tour?” She asks as Steve tunes back into the conversation.

“This isn’t really a tour, we just haven’t been on the road in a while and we just stopped the album, so we lined up a few shows to get our feet wet before we hit the road for real this summer. One more show out in LA on Tuesday, then we’re done until May, for now.” Eddie explains.

“We’re in LA on Thursday!” Robin exclaims, and Steve’s stomach drops because, yeah. LA on Thursday. He trains his eyes on the glass in front of him, not willing to actually look at anyone they’re around. 

“We could totally meet up again if you guys are able to swing it?” Freak offers, and Steve forces a little smile onto his face and nods.

“We can figure it out later,” Eddie says after a few beats, and Steve is grateful for how the conversation rolls onto the next topic. When he finally looks back up, though, Eddie’s still looking his way. Steve hits him with what he hopes comes off as a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t seem to pay off the way he hopes.

Once the tab is closed and the staff is tipped well, Steve catches Eddie’s elbow on their way out the door. “I would like to meet up in LA, if you’re interested. I didn’t mean to get weird about it, it’s… I’ve been in my head a bit about that game since it was announced.”

“Oh, hey, no worries. We’re in LA the whole week, then we’re heading home. So no pressure, honest.” Eddie hooks his hand over Steve’s softly.

“Well, we should get in Wednesday, but we could totally do something after the game or even Friday?” 

Eddie smiles and nods, patting over Steve’s hand. “Text me about it.”

“I can do that. How much longer are you guys in town for, anyway?” Steve asks.

“Ah, the dreaded question comes,” Eddie’s playful, and it makes Steve’s face heat up. “We’ve got just under another 24 hours in the Windy City before hitting the road again.”

“Oh,” It pulls his chest in a way he wasn’t expecting, in a way that shouldn’t be happening for a rockstar he was adjacently aware of in high school. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Harrington,” Eddie’s teasing again, and it does nothing to help the blush on Steve’s face. “You can’t possibly miss me this much when I haven’t even left yet.”

“Shut up,” Steve shoves him away then, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout, only for Eddie to pull him in with an arm around the shoulder.

“We can grab brunch or something? We leave around 8 to avoid rush hour, so I’ll have to be in the bus by 6, or I’d say dinner.”

“Brunch works for me.” 

~~~~

The trip back to the hotel doesn’t go as Eddie expects; everyone is silently chatting amongst themselves, nodding and tapping along to the music and not causing a scene. He almost points it out, but elects not to bring unwarranted bullying upon himself instead. The guys had been giving him shit about Steve near constantly, so this was a nice change of pace after the last few days.

There was actually quiet as he made his way back to his room. A hot shower finally restored warmth to his bones the hockey arena had stolen, and he was drying his hair when he heard his phone vibrate with a text notification.

Steve: anything you're craving for brunch tomorrow so I can pick a place?

It’s practically too easy to flirt with Steve; he sets up lines without even seeming to realize. But Eddie still can’t get a real gauge on how Steve feels about the flirting, so he sidesteps the easy pass he could have made about Steve being enough of a meal, in favor of actually answering.

Eddie: French toast?

The next series of texts come before Eddie even moves his hands back to the towel over his hair.

Steve: sick, I’ll pick you up around 10:45

Steve: you mentioned going home, did you mean like, back to Hawkins?

Eddie twists his hair up in the towel, and lays down on the side of the bed he doesn’t sleep on before firing off an answer.

Eddie: nah, I’ve got a place in Nashville and no reason to go back to Hawkins anymore. My uncle moved to Indy, so that’s usually as close as I get.

Steve: any reason you moved to Nashville?

Eddie: are we playing 20 questions?

Steve: sorry.

Eddie bites his lip, and only hesitates for a moment before flipping over onto his belly and hitting the FaceTime button. Steve answers on the second ring, looking embarrassed, but Eddie doesn’t let him get a word in.

“My mom was born and raised in Memphis, but she always told me her favorite city was Nashville. I was there with her a few times when I was little and she’d just, like, light up. And music is so heavily engraved into every inch of the city, it’s hard to not find inspiration everywhere you turn. So. I bought a place in Nashville the minute I had enough saved up, and it’s kind of my home base now.” Eddie explains, watching as Steve’s face softens and he relaxes into his chair listening to Eddie’s answer. “Do I get to ask a question now?”

“I really wasn’t trying to be annoying, “ Steve looks ready to keep going with an apology, but Eddie cuts him off.

“Why do you play hockey?” It stops Steve dead in his tracks, and he genuinely looks confused for a moment. Eddie almost offers to drop the topic, but Steve fumbles his way into an answer.

“My, uh. My dad wanted me to play before I was even born. Because he played. Professionally for a few years when I was growing up, then he went on to coach.” Steve explains, and it sounds a little rehearsed. Eddie’s sure it’s something that comes up often if his father played and coached. “Gotta keep the Harrington legacy alive, I guess.”

There was a bite to Steve’s words that wasn’t lost on Eddie. “You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

Eddie can see Steve working over how he wants to answer before he shrugs and sighs. “Because it’s all a show for him. The part we don’t talk about is how I got hurt and benched most of my senior season and he cut me off when I didn’t get full rides. Convinced me it was better to not go to college at all, despite the other scholarship offers, than to not get promised a spot on the ice. Convinced me to self-sabotage so I had to fight tooth and fucking nail to get into the league at all.” Steve pauses, then, and lets out a quiet laugh. “Sorry, that’s so unbelievably whiny of me. I love getting to play professionally, and I don’t take the opportunity for granted.”

“Not whiny. Dads can be the fucking worst.” Eddie offers, gently, and is grateful when Steve doesn't press on that particular bruise.

Instead, he takes his turn to ask a different question. “Why music?”

“This is lame, but the answer is once again my mom.” Eddie rolls his eyes at himself, but he smiles. “She was a musician. There were always instruments around and music was always playing and we traveled for her to perform. I knew my whole life I wanted to be a musician like her, but it wasn’t until after she died that I figured out that songwriting… telling stories and painting pictures with words and melodies and making people feel something…” Eddie trails off, lost in the thought.

“I’m sorry you lost her. It sounds like you enjoyed your childhood with her.” Steve offers, hopes it doesn’t sound like a forced nicety, but Eddie smiles and his nerves ease.

“She was a force to be reckoned with. Firing on all cylinders at once, chaos and home bundled into one.” Eddie’s soft a quiet for a moment, and Steve appreciates the silence by taking in how relaxed the other is to be talking about his feelings; it’s a refreshing break from many of his experiences with teammates or opponents who don’t know how to get emotional in a healthy way. Eventually, though, Eddie clears his throat. “Anyway. Back to 20 questions,”

“I wasn’t trying to start a game, really, I just… like talking to you,” Steve admits around a blush, tucking his chin into the collar of his shirt in an effort to hide the shade of his cheeks, but Eddie’s smile says his cover is blown.

“ANYWAY!” He announces louder, then taps at his chin. “Favorite and least favorite teams to play and why, go.”

“I’m not a dog.” Steve laughs but thinks about his answer anyway. “Favorite is probably the Flyers in Philly. Their fans are absolutely brutal, and their mascot is hilariously terrifying.”

“I have seen many a Gritty TikTok, so I completely understand,” Eddie gives him a few beats before he prompts. “Least favorite?”

“The Kings. LA. Billy Hargrove.”

“The…, what the fuck? How many guys from Hawkins are professional hockey players?” Eddie asks, because honestly, how had he not known there was more than Steve?

“He’s technically from LA, which is why he went back, thank God.” Steve mumbles, before dropping his head back against the wall behind him. “But, for whatever it’s worth, there’s me, Billy, and Tommy Hagan in the league.”

“Well isn’t that a fun bunch to surround yourself with,” Eddie muses out loud. Tommy and Billy were two of the biggest assholes Eddie had ever met, and it sounded like Steve wasn’t too fond of the other pair either.

“I actually…” Steve trails off, before trying again. “I was going to invite you guys to come to the LA game, but I’m really not sure it would be a good idea, so I’m… I’m actually going to ask you guys not to come, if that’s not too much of a dick move? I can get you tickets to literally any game you want for the rest of the season, just. I don’t think it’s worth it to get Billy started, and if he’s heard any of the press about us, I’m already going to hear it even if you’re not there.”

“Homophobe extraordinaire still, then?” Eddie guesses, and Steve chokes out a laugh, before covering his mouth and holding up a finger to ask for a moment to compose himself.

“He's… a lot of things.” Is the response Steve opts for, but Eddie can tell there’s more there. Whatever the two of them are doing, it doesn’t feel like Steve is ready to elaborate, so Eddie moves on. 

“I think it’s your turn.”

~~~~

Nothing changes after Corroded Coffin leave Chicago, though. Not in the ways Eddie had expected, at least.

Steve still texts him throughout the day, answers his Facetimes whenever he’s available. Eddie makes him the playlist he promised, and Steve gives feedback on which songs he likes and which ones he really doesn’t, after Eddie promises to not take Steve’s opinions personally. Which, to be fair, he tries really hard not to.

The concert in LA comes and goes, and Steve seems to send him every TikTok he comes across from the show. It’s a refreshing break, as every few videos in Eddie’s feed are of him cheering for Steve at the game, or Steve watching from sidestage in Chicago. 

A text from Robin eventually confirms their arrival in LA, and Steve and Eddie make plans to meet up after the game. Since Steve had expressed concern about Eddie going, he decides to just watch from the bar they agree to meet at. Televised games make it easier to track the puck, but Eddie decides he likes being there in person better.

Eddie’s sipping absently on his beer and in the time it takes him to look down at a text from Chrissy, several of the people around him react to something. Eddie looks around to make sure someone in the bar hadn’t passed out. When he looks back at the screen, absolute mayhem has broken out on the ice. The refs are trying to separate players from one another, and Eddie’s scanning through the numbers on each Blackhawks jerseys before he finally spots Steve, slightly off to the side from everyone else. The camera pans away from him, zeroing in on the fight, now between a Blackhawks defenseman and none other than Billy Hargrove. 

Billy’s helmet and gloves are off, teeth shining with blood as he grins like a psycho and starts to skate in Steve’s direction. One of the refs pulls him back, though, escorting him into the penalty box while another Kings player gathers his helmet, stick and gloves and clears them to the bench. 

The camera finally pans back to Steve, who is now sitting with his back against the boards. He’s got a gloved covering the lower half of his face, but his white jersey is covered in blood. A ref and the Blackhawks goalie are kneeling on either side of him as someone else speaks with him. The camera zooms in as the TV crews work to make out what is happening, just in time for Steve to lower his hand and shows off a gnarly gash along the side of his face. He leans forward a little and spits out blood onto the ice, and the TV jumps to the announcers in the booth. 

The volume is off, but they show a slow-motion replay of the few moments Eddie’d missed; Steve passes the puck off to another player on his team, just before Billy slams into his side. The impact sends both of them into the boards and down onto the ice. Billy swings his stick around and cracks Steve in the face with the blade heel. Steve reacts, throwing his whole arm into Billy’s face, before a sea of white Blackhawks jerseys sweep in and suddenly Billy’s a few feet away, with players from both teams piled up.

Eddie’s hand hovers over his phone; has no idea what to do in this situation. Texting Steve is useless; it would likely be hours, if not days, before he even thinks about looking at his phone. He doesn’t want to bother anyone, but he’s… well, he’s stressed. Even if Steve isn’t interested in him the way Eddie’s interested in Steve, they’ve still built a weird little friendship and that was an awful lot of blood.

So, Eddie ends up firing off a text to Robin. It’s just a simple 'let me know if there’s anything I can do,' but his phone lights up with a call immediately.

“How bad is it?”

“I’m not back with him yet, but just… meet us at the hospital, if you can?” She asks. While her voice waivers a bit, she’s calmer than Eddie expected her to be.

“I’ll be right there.” He agrees, hangs up and exits the bar before the game even returns from commercial break.

[strangermarvelss]

all of the girls you loved before- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: the one where eddie runs into his first love, leaving you to question your relationship in the aftermath. loosely based on the taylor swift song with the same title.

Warnings: angst, crying, jealousy, insecurity, eddie being rude unintentionally, cursing, pda (gross), eddie and reader are a few years out of high school, fluff, happy ending

Word Count: 4.8k

Request?: No

A/N: hello again everyone, its been a minute! since i’ve been gone, i’ve entered my swiftie era (not like crazy obsessed but def a fan of the music) and this gem of a song dropped and plucked some inspiration from me, so here is a new one shot for you all! enjoy! -sava

The haze within the hot open room of the Hideout was starting to dissipate, the crowd exiting the venue one by one as the band you’ve been cheering on from your spot at the bar begins clearing the stage of their equipment. The ringing in your ears has yet to go away, getting so lost in the metal music that you didn’t care if it would bite you in the ass at work tomorrow, you’d find a way to take customers orders at the diner, even if they had to scream in order for you to understand. 

You found yourself sitting at the same spot at the Hideout every Tuesday night to cheer your boyfriend and his band members on. Within the years since graduating high school, the town you called home started coming around to the type of music your boyfriend played, despite ridiculing him for years prior to their own revelations. With the new popularity, Tuesday nights at the Hideout have gone from 5 drunks sitting in the back to almost a packed house every week, begging for encores and autographs at the end of each show. It made you happy seeing your boyfriend celebrated in such a way, having been there for him in his lowest points when the tables were turned. Now you bask in his glory like never before, cheering him on alongside the rest of the town.

Paying your tab, you begin walking towards the back stage area when you see a tall lanky man with long luscious curls make his way over to you, his smile wide as his signature dimples poked into the sides of his cheeks. He extends his arms wide, not caring if he gets in anyones way as he greets you. Taking off in a run, you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he catches you, hands making contact with your ass in a not-so-subtle way. You pull away and look at him momentarily before pressing your lips to his.

You take in his scent as your mouths move together as one, the sweaty smell that was no match for masking with his cheap cologne filling your nostrils, but you didn’t mind one bit. You part away from his lips, looking at the deep chocolate irises that you love seeing on a daily basis before running a hand through his sweaty mop of curls. He sets you down and plays with his bangs, moving them to the side as they desperately try to cling to his damp forehead.

“You guys killed it tonight,” you tell him, pulling him in for another hug. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side and twisting his upper body and leaning down to press a kiss to your hair before flashing a closed mouth smile at you.

“Couldn’t have done it without my number one fan,” he says, cupping your cheek with his large calloused hand and placing yet another kiss to your body, this time directed at your forehead.

“So I was thinking that maybe tonight we go back to my apartment and watch some movies? I know we usually go bother my coworkers at the diner after your show but I kind of just want some you and me time,” you tell him with a smile.

“That sounds even better than going to the diner. I bet you’ve already picked out a selection of movies.” “You know me so well. I rented Halloween, Nightmare on Elm St-“

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you. You and Eddie turn around, watching a slim figure approach you with a bashful look plastered on her face. As she got closer, you noticed she was wearing a short black leather skirt and a bright pink top, barely leaving anything to the imagination with the amount of cleavage she was showing. Her hair was long and straight, looking silky to the touch as her skin glowed under the colorful stage lights that were still on. Who the hell is this, and how did she know Eddie?

Eddie squints his eyes as she approaches the two of you, his face relaxing and the smile growing wider than you’ve ever seen it when he finally makes out her features. You won’t deny the twinge you feel in your chest as you watch him drop your hand and give the mysterious woman a big embrace, bigger than the one he gave you moments ago.

“Holy shit! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Eddie exclaims, breaking away and tucking his hands under his armpits.

“M’good! Just finished up college not too long ago so I came back to Hawkins while I search for something a little more permanent,” she tells him, her timid demeanor going out the window as you watch the two grow comfortable with one another. “I see things at the Hideout have changed since we went to high school not too long ago.”

“Yeah, they sure have,” Eddie chuckles, kicking one of his feet out as he looks down. “Looks like the people in this shit town have finally come around when it comes to listening to good music.”

As you watch the interactions from person to person unfold in front of you, you feel the familiar tickle in your nose begin, hoping and praying that you won’t be noticeable if you aren’t able to get rid of the impending sneeze.

“Achoo!” You exclaim, bending down and hiding your nose in the crook of your elbow, silently yelling at yourself when you watch both pairs of eyes land on you.

“Bless you,” the mystery woman says with a smile. You nod, taking a step forward to try and join in on the conversation.

“Thank you,” you tell her, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way, Eddie’s girlfriend.”

You watch Eddie nod as she takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Heather.”

Suddenly you feel your brain catching up with the rest of the world, clicking into place once the name leaves her mouth. This was the Heather you’d heard so much about from Eddie’s friends. The same Heather that just so happened to be his first love, capturing his heart in ways you wish you could’ve done yourself. If only you’d moved to Hawkins earlier in your high school career compared to your senior year, a.k.a Eddie’s second attempt at being a senior. 

The members of the Hellfire Club gave you all the details that you needed to know about Heather: that she was Eddie’s first everything. First date, first love, first time, and eventually, his first heartbreak. The two were smitten with one another when no one else wanted to look Eddie’s way, with all the judgy classmates questioning why they were together in the first place. They didn’t see Eddie for who he truly was, they only ever judged him based on his outer appearance. The same goes for Heather: everyone always questioned why someone as hot as her would settle for someone like Eddie, which always made you upset to hear.

“It’s really nice to meet you Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you tell her, trying your best to sound as sincere as possible. Eddie shoots you a look, silently telling you to stop, which makes your heart drop a bit. Adverting your eyes from him, you look back at Heather, who didn’t miss the interaction. 

“All good things I hope,” she jokes.

“Are you kidding? Of course all good things. I can only hope you extended the same courtesy for me, if you did tell your college friends about me,” he says, rushing the last part out. Was he getting nervous?

“I can assure you that I did. Even after the way things ended…” she says, looking down to the ground as her sentence trails off. You can sense the tension in the air, feeling as if you’re causing the vibe of the conversation to shift a bit. Masking your feelings with a smile, you turn to them and excuse yourself, lying about needing to use the restroom before heading out for the night. Holding the curtain to the side, you enter the backstage area and round a counter towards an empty hallway you know nobody ever comes down after the shows, as you and Eddie have had your share of moments in this very spot, both PG and R rated moments.

As the secluded feeling sinks in, you feel the confidence and happiness that filled your body just moments ago begin to evaporate, vanishing into thin air as you replay the last few minutes in your head. His big smile when he saw her, the big and warm embrace, the look he gave you when you nudged your way into the conversation. It made you want to shrink into yourself. Jealousy was never something you were known for having, usually being more focused on the moment at hand and knowing the security you had with the relationships you had with the people around you.

But the history between Eddie and Heather changed that.

When you first heard about Heather, you didn’t pay much attention to it because you knew that was his past. He told you numerous times that he loves you and loves being with you, and it made you confident in the strength of your relationship. But knowing how strong those feelings he had for Heather and seeing her interact with him in real time, it changed things. He was a different man from the one he was in high school, having graduated and making a name for himself with the music he loves performing. And now that Heather is back in Hawkins for a while, it makes you wonder what could happen between the two of them. 

Would they be able to reconcile? It didn’t look like there were any harsh feelings anymore, so maybe making up was still an option for them. What if Eddie wanted to revisit his past and be with the girl he loved before you came into his life? Was the love he had for her stronger than the love he has for you?

You could feel yourself being to spiral, your arms wrapping around your body and hugging on tight. Your breathing was starting to become jagged and unsteady, trying your best to take deep breaths slowly to get yourself to calm down. Thinking the worst was always such an easy solution for you, because preparing for the worst and not being shocked by the disappointment that lies ahead was better than being blind to the impending doom.

Once you feel yourself becoming calmer, you exit the hallway and walk towards the curtain once again, hesitating and stopping in your tracks. Peeking your head out, you can see the two of them still talking, Eddie throwing his head back in laughter as the two share a funny moment with one another, making your heartache grow. Retreating back behind the curtain, you turn and see Gareth walking your way, a smug look on his face before contorting into a welcoming smile.

“Hey Y/N! Glad to see you made it out tonight, even though I know you’re in the audience every Tuesday,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You give him a quick hug, pulling away and failing to mask the hurt as you see his demeanor change. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine…it’s just, Heather is here tonight. She came up to Eddie and I and started talking with him and catching up-“

“Wait, Heather Heather?” Gareth asks before poking his head out of the curtain. “Holy shit! I had no idea she was back in town. Still looks as hot as ever.”

Pretending to ignore that, you let out a sigh and tap him on the shoulder. Gareth turns to you, lifting a brow.

“Can you make out what her and Eddie are talking about? I think I sort of killed their vibe earlier and now it looks like things are picking up now that I’m not there.”

“Yeah, hang on one second,” he tells you before disappearing behind the curtain. As much as you appreciate Gareth helping, you were more scared to know how the conversation is going. With all the possibilities that were swirling around in your head, it was just getting fogged up with negativity that you were not expecting this evening and you hated going to such a low place.

A moment later, Gareth pops back from the other side of the curtain with a neutral expression, which worries you more than it should. You raise your eyebrows at him, bracing yourself for whatever news that he was about to deliver.

“So I used the gig as an excuse to talk with them and told Eddie that we were almost done loading the equipment up, which is true, and he said he’d be back here in a minute. But as I was walking away, I heard Heather mention how they should catch up another time over coffee and when I looked back, she was writing her number down on a napkin for him,” he explains.

Somehow the news hurts you more than you imagined it would. With their plans on the horizon sometime soon, it made the insecurities rise once again. You knew how special someone’s first love could be because Eddie was that for you. Before moving to Hawkins, you had your fair share of dating but none that meant much to you compared to the feelings your harbor for Eddie. Knowing that he already experienced that with someone else didn’t bother you until that person had to show up right there in front of you. A majority of these worries and doubts reside in your head, you’re aware of that, but it almost feels as if there is going to be a choice he is going to make, and it isn’t looking good for your side.

You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, unable to hide the frown that resides on your lips as you process what Gareth told you. Looking at him, you flash him a sad smile before wiping away at your bottom lash line, a half-baked attempt to get rid of the tears. He rests a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head down to try and make eye contact with you. 

“Hey, don’t get sad, okay? Heather is just Eddie’s past, but you’re his present and his future. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he tries to reassure you.

“Yeah, you might be right,” you tell him before meeting his gaze and making eye contact. “But you didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her, the way he held her. On top of that, the way he looked at me when I talked to her. I’m worried that I actually do have something to worry about,” you explain.

Now it was Gareth’s turn to frown, breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor below. He should know better than anyone how Eddie felt about Heather all those years ago and it doesn’t just go away overnight. 

“I think I should go. I’m going to sneak around the other way…will-will you tell Eddie I wasn’t feeling good or something? If you can think of a good excuse, just use it, because my brain is fogged up right now and I can’t think of any,” you ask. Gareth nods, sending a sad smile your way before you disappear behind more curtains as you make your way around the stage to exit through the front doors unnoticed.

—————————————————————————————————————

It’s been three days since you’ve last seen Eddie.

Clocking out of your shift at the diner, you sigh as you realize its your usual date night with Eddie, yet haven’t heard a word from him since the awkward encounter with his ex at the Hideout. To say the silence has hurt you would be an understatement, as you wait by the phone any chance you’re home hoping he will call. He always makes it a point to call you at the end of each day when he knows you both are already off work, catching up on each others days and talking for hours before falling asleep.

Now you’re going home alone for the fourth night in a row, wasting away as you prepare yourself for when Eddie does eventually call you to break things off, telling you he wants to try things with Heather again while she is in town and rekindle the blissful and naive love they once held in their hearts for one another.

Tossing your jacket on the back of one of the chairs at your kitchen table, you let out a sigh as you begin making your way to your bedroom and undressing your uniform. Quickly, you change into a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, tossing your dirty uniform in your laundry basket before going back to the kitchen. Opening your fridge, you spot the bottle of wine you have been eyeing every day after work this week. The delicious red teasing you and wanting you to indulge in the sweet liquid to cope with the impending end of your relationship.

“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, before grasping the bottle and twisting the cap open. Opening the cabinet above, you grab the first wine glass you see and take it out, pouring the wine in until it gets close the the rim. You take hold of the glass and make your way over to your couch, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the wine travel down your throat with ease. 

Before you’re able to bask in the taste, you hear your doorbell ring throughout your apartment. With a puzzled expression, you set the glass of wine down on your coffee table and make your way back to the front door, sliding the peep hold cover to the side to get a look at just who could be outside. Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath before opening the door, standing face to face with the man who owns your heart. At least, for the next few minutes.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask straight out of the gate. 

“Good to see you too,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the pizza box resting in his hands for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do for date night tonight, so I just took it as an opportunity to plan an evening of pizza, movies, and indulging in the new weed I got from Rick yesterday.”

“I just thought we weren’t going to do date night this week since I hadn’t heard from you,” you say.

“Sorry sweetheart, that is my bad.” He tells you as he makes his way inside your apartment. He sets the pizza on the kitchen table and opens the fridge and pulls a beer out. “I’ve been extremely busy this week with work, band practice, and…uh, well…”

“Heather?” You question, closing the door and resting your back against it as you bring your arms to cross in front of your chest. He stills for a moment, frozen in place as silence falls over the apartment unit. Turning to you, he raises his eyebrows while biting his lip, his physical look of guilt showing front and center. Trying your best to remain stoic, you quirk a brow at him, keeping your position at the door as you wait for an explanation. 

“How, uh…how’d you know about that?” He finally asks after several minutes of silence.

“Gareth told me before I left on Tuesday. Said he overheard her giving you her number,” you answer plainly.

Another beat of silence falls throughout the room. Eddie’s attention is on the floor below him, kicking his feet as he digs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and forgetting about the beer he was excited about enjoying. You find your eyes diverting to the ground as well, finding it hard to look over at your favorite metalhead. Mentally preparing yourself for the ache to grow, you finally let out a deep sigh, your hand coming up to rub at your forehead before you work up the courage to look at him again.

“Look, if you came all this way to let me down gently with pizza and weed, you can just save yourself the trouble. I’ve already spent the past few days preparing for this, so lets just call it what it is and go on about our lives, okay?” You muster out, feeling your throat close up and voice waver towards the end. You shut your mouth, turning your head as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver. Opening the door, you step to the side and remain silent, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. You can’t breakdown in front of him, not when he’s choosing another girl over you.

You hear his heavy footsteps grow closer to you, stopping right before your figure. Your eyes are planted to the floor, seeing his stark white Reeboks enter your vision before leaving once again. Suddenly, you feel his hand lay on top of the one holding the handle to the front door, guiding it to a close and stepping to the side.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he reveals.

You whip your neck in the direction he moved to, seeing the sad expression on his face as his big brown cow eyes look into yours. Part of you was hesitant to question him about it, not wanting his mind to change in a matter of seconds and leave you in a puddle of sadness afterall. But the more logical part of your brain wanted answers. Why did he not bother calling you for days but thought it was okay to hang out with his ex? Why didn’t he confess earlier about seeing her around? Why was he acting so strange at the Hideout, and why didn’t he want you talking to her?

“What?”

“I said I’m not breaking up with you, sweetheart. Why was that even a thought that popped into your head?” He asks, his voice level and sweet. He takes a step closer to you, filling the small gap that had separated you moments ago before slowly extending an arm out to you, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the soft skin.

“I don’t know…” you finally answer, the lack of confidence in your voice giving you away as your sentence trails off.

“C’mon, I know you had to think that somehow. I won’t be mad or anything, I promise. Just want my sweet girl to talk to me.” You take the beat of silence to think about to how explain it to him without coming across as a jealous and needy girlfriend. You can do this, you think to yourself.

“It’s just-I know how you felt during that relationship and how deep the feelings were thanks to Gareth and Jeff, a-and the way you were talking to her and looking at her at the Hideout on Tuesday made it look like no time had passed and that the feelings were still there. I mean, she gave you her number Eds! A-and you just said you hung out with her!” You exclaim, breaking out of his grasp and retreating towards the living room. You run a hand down your face, sighing as you try to level your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, when you put it like that…yeah it sounds bad,” you hear him say from the kitchen. You sit on the couch, taking a large sip of the wine you abandoned earlier. Eddie turns around and stalks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite of you, not wanting to get too close again after the failed attempt. “But baby, I promise nothing happened with Heather and I, okay? We went over to Rick’s last night after grabbing coffee and smoked. Nothing more.”

“I just wish you told me about it,” you let out, feeling deflated from the way you were reacting.

“I know baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Work had been busy and when I was going to call you after I woke up yesterday, Heather called and asked to hang out at the coffee shop. I should’ve used the payphone outside the place or hell, called you before I left my place. If I could go back and do so I would.”

You flash him a half-hearted smile, looking back towards your wine glass before picking it up once again. Bringing it to your lips, you take another big sip, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol move throughout your limbs and send a tingling feeling in them. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Eddie slide over onto the couch, still leaving room between the two of you as he leans his arms on his knees, hanging his head down a bit and letting his long mane of curls move forward with him.

“You want to know what we talked about yesterday? Over coffee?” He asks, quirking a brow your way as he shifts a bit from his position.

“Hmm?”

“We caught up, I asked her about college, she told me all kinds of stories. Even told me the story of how she met her fiancé, who moved in with her when she came back to Hawkins. They’re getting married in November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving which I thought was nice. Then I talked to her about you, and how we’ve been dating since the winter of ’84 and been inseparable since then. I must’ve been smiling really hard or something because she pointed out how happy I looked when I talk about you, which is true,” he chuckles out, a silly grin creeping onto his features.

Now it was your turn to smile, unable to hide the warm and fuzzy feeling that made its way into your chest at hearing the words. You set the wine glass back down, shifting on the couch so you were facing his direction, legs crossed as you leaned over to take his hand in yours. “Really?”

“Oh of course baby. Look, what I had with Heather all those years ago was great, and I appreciate the time I had with her then. But loving her taught me how to be better and show the person I was really meant for all the more love and affection that they deserve. You,” he boops your nose, making a giggle escape past your lips. “-you are the one I love now and will love until I take my last breath okay? All the shit I’ve been through was worth it because it brought you to me when you moved here, and I am so fucking happy about that. Wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

You can’t help but feel the burning sensation behind your eyes at Eddie’s sweet words. Sure, you still felt like a bit of a fool for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but hearing Eddie shut down all your worries and reassure you about his feelings for you in the nicest way you could’ve imagined warmed your heart. You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and closing the distance between you as your lips meet his. His hand instinctively goes to your hip, holding you closer as his mouth moves against yours in fever.

Eventually pulling away, you lean your forehead against his, giggling to yourself as you feel his bangs tickle the sensitive skin of your cheeks. You look at his big brown eyes, seeing the soft look he was giving you and melting all over again.

“Sorry for acting like a jealous girlfriend babe. Not the prettiest look for me if I’m being honest,” you joke.

“Hey, if the roles were reversed, I would totally act the way you did, so I get it. But now you know that you don’t ever have to worry about anyone else, because like I said, you’re it for me baby. I love you.”

“I love you more,” you say, pressing your lips to his cheek. He shoots you a grin, breaking contact with your forehead and rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your leggings. 

“How about I warm up that pizza I brought over and we pop in one of those movies I rented? You probably need some food after all that wine you drank,” he says, making you laugh. Nodding, you agree.

“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had.”

[bit-odd-innit]

“Sometimes,” Gareth drawls. He’s sitting behind his kit, twirling a drumstick in his fingers, thoughtful. “Sometimes I think this town really is cursed.” “Dude.” Jeff warns. “Let me finish. I think this town is cursed, and Eddie’s a part of it—” “Dude!” “Let me finish! Town’s cursed, Eddie’s involved, but he’s not the source. He’s a victim.”

Jeff and Francis exchange a look. ”And the true source.” He rises, getting on a roll. “The true source is hiding in plain sight, something—”

He cuts his eyes at them. “—or someone no one would expect. The true source...” He whirls his drumstick with a dramatic flourish then snaps his arm to its full extension and points outward, into the wild blue yonder that is the world beyond his parents’ garage. “...is Him.”

Him, being: Steve Harrington, parked at the end of the driveway. Steve Harrington, opening the passenger side door of his rich boy Beemer. Steve Harrington, who drove Eddie to band practice. Who’s shouldering Eddie’s gig bag. Who’s helping Eddie out of the car. 

Jeff and Francis watch for a moment in silence, then turn back to Gareth in sync.

”An interesting theory.” ”Elaborate.”

“Consider the facts, boys!” He holds his drumstick to his mouth to pantomime smoking a pipe. It doesn’t really work but he’s committed to it now. “Prior to The Unfortunate Occurences Which Shan’t Be Named...”

Francis crosses himself backwards. Jeff looks down, shielding his eyes and murmuring, “That Which Shan’t Be Named.” It’s the only way they can cope with what happened last spring. It’s that or face the reality that their friend almost died horribly; that he was hunted for sport by a town that still looks at him sideways, still has not acknowledged any wrongdoing; that there’s a gap in Eddie’s retelling of What Really Happened he can’t or won’t explain, and in that gap Eddie was almost destroyed, was so brutalized he was hospitalized for a month and semi-comatose for half of it. That Eddie is different now. Wounded. Skittish. Not small, never small. But smaller.

That’s too much, man. So they make it a Bit.

“...Our darling Edward would have never associated with the likes of that.”

(That is currently smoothing down the collar of Eddie’s new battle jacket, nose wrinkling as the stubborn curl of the denim refuses to lay flat.)

”A jock? Hah! A jock and a yuppie? Hah and hah a-gain! But now, in the hereafter of...” He falters. “Certain Events...he has emerged unscathed—” “He is not unscathed,” Jeff corrects. “He is extremely scathed,” Francis adds. “Mentally, physically and emotionally scathed.”

“He’s scathed to shit dude.” “He has emerged unscathed,” Gareth barrels on, shooting them a look that says this is supposed to be a monologue.  “But for one critical difference. Not only does he tolerate this...interloper’s existence, but he actively seeks out his company! I daresay he enjoys it! Thrives on it! Our jester is holding court in the empty kingdom of a fallen king!”

Francis laughs but Jeff frowns. “That’s a little mean.”

“Ah, but is it untrue?”

“Still.”

“Fine, sorry, jeez.”

(The fallen king is now holding the jester’s collar down with one hand and furiously rubbing at it with his fist, scowling like the fabric personally offended him. “You should have let me iron this,” he huffs, and the way Eddie watches Steve is so cartoonishly fond Gareth half expects a menagerie of woodland creatures to scamper out of the brush and sing a song about it.)

Satisfied, Jeff gets back on board. He hums, his mouth a grim line, voice dropping to the bottom of his register. “And you suspect the Dark Arts?”

“What other explanation could there be?” Gareth lifts his steepled fingers  to his mouth, forgetting he is still holding the drumstick, and tips it forward so it doesn’t go right up his nose. He glowers in the pair’s general direction. “What do we truly know about this Hair-ington? What secrets does that follicle fortress hold? What Black Magic does this strapping sorcerer wield that has so bewitched our beloved bro?” Francis snorts. “The black magic is that Steve’s hot, and Eddie wants to kiss him.”

Gareth and Jeff stare at him, slack-jawed. Francis shrugs.

“Look I’m not into the guy but let’s call a spade a spade.” 

Gareth shifts his weight to one leg, his theatrics flushing out of him. “I’m running out of steam on this, can we just talk about Eddie’s stupid crush on Steve Harrington?”

“Oh my god PLEASE.” “I have been WAITING for someone to bring it up” “I’ve never seen him like this. He is gone. He is smitten.”

“I’d go so far as to say he is straight up besotted my dude!” “Cupid’s arrow flew true and it got him right between the fucking eyes.”

It’s not the first time Eddie’s had a crush, or the most embarrassing. It’s not even that the guys are worried about what would happen if they roasted Eddie to his face—Eddie can dish it out as well as he can take it, mostly. But whatever Eddie has with Steve feels…untouchable. The first time Steve dropped him off Gareth tested the waters with something light, something along the lines of, “you think he’s gonna give you his letterman jacket?” Instead of laughing it off, Eddie dimmed, and he answered, quietly, “Steve’s just a friend.” The subject hasn’t been broached since.

But perhaps Eddie just can’t see the forest for the trees. Because from the band’s perspective…

“Oh my God are you KIDDING me?”

“What?”

“Steve just did The Move!”

“What move?”

“THE Move! You know.” Gareth presses together his palms, one slightly higher so he can curl his fingers over the ones on his opposite hand. He affects a bright, breathy voice and coos: “Hee hee oh wow your hands are soooo small compared to mine. Hee hee hoo my hands are so big and strong just like me, I could do a billion push ups, probably, and ohhhh wow! Now we’re holding hands! How did that happen! Hee hee hoo hoo ha ha ha!”

Francis chuckles knowingly. “Total Hot Guy Move.”

“A classic!”

“Is that what you think Steve Harrington sounds like?” Jeff asks.

As if on cue, Steve shifts his hand so his fingers fill the spaces between Eddie’s, and then those fingers are folding over, and then the two of them are just…holding hands, in the middle of the street. Staring at each other. Smiling.

Henderson seems just as fed up with this song and dance as the rest of them because he launches from his post in Steve’s back seat, halves himself over the center console and absolutely lays on the horn.

(That’s the other thing they don’t talk about, how clingy Dustin’s gotten. How he trails Eddie like a little shadow, like he’s been stitched to the sole of Eddie’s shoe. Like if he doesn’t have eyes on Eddie at all times he’s going to disappear.)

It snaps them out of their spell because then Steve is barking for him to, “quit it, this is a residential neighborhood!!!” and Henderson is punching out the tune to “Ride of the Valkyries” and Eddie is laughing, really laughing, his head thrown back and his eyes closed as he loses himself to a debilitating, full body cackle and for one brief, horrible moment Gareth thinks he might start crying.

Because there had been a time—Mayish, Juneish—when they didn’t know if they would get Eddie back. That part of him, the core of him, the writhing nucleus of his Eddie-ness, had been tamped down for good. And then Steve showed up. And then Steve kept showing up. And then slowly, surely, Eddie came back. Eddie’s here. Eddie’s late to band practice.

Gareth’s driveway has an incline so it takes Eddie a minute to reach them (Eddie’s working with a physical therapist to build up his quad strength Eddie’s missing sections of his internal organs Eddie almost died and he didn’t and they will never know how or why and Gareth swallows down another knot of emotion lodged at the base of his throat). When he’s at the top he bobs his chin at them and pumps his eyebrows, sheepish but unapologetic.  He glances over his shoulder, flicks a salute at Henderson and Steve, beams when Steve answers with a fluttery trill of his fingers. He turns, moves to set up.

“Hey, Munson!” 

Steve’s halfway in the car, forearm draped over the open driver’s side door, one foot propped on the seat. For a beat he doesn’t move, the corner of his lower lip pinched beneath the top row of his teeth. Then his tongue falls out of his mouth, he makes a little “Bleh!” noise like a B-movie vampire, and he throws the horns.

He does it wrong. He sticks his thumb out instead of tucking it beneath his middle and ring fingers. He isn’t saying rock on, he’s saying something else, cause Gareth knows a little ASL and in ASL that sign means—

Later Eddie will say his knee gave out, that he’s still figuring out how to maneuver his “busted ass body.” They let him have it, but Gareth and Jeff and Francis know the truth. Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson he loves him, and Eddie swooned.  “You fellas ready to rock?” Eddie asks as he hooks up to his amp. Gareth gets behind his drum kit, counts them in, and the band plays on.   

[luvrxbunny]

fame

pairing: ex-bf!Eddie Munson x f!reader

summary: Eddie makes a grave mistake.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, insecurity, 'do i wanna know' (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 3.6k

a/n: a few things! Id suggest listening to the song before and/or after you read the fic! I wouldn’t suggest during because obviously it wont be on tempo. this can either be modern!Eddie or we can just pretend that “Do I Wanna Know” came out back in 1980. also idk anything abt instruments so shut up if i messed up anywhere— this is one of the worst ones ive written im sorry i just wanted to post

You and Eddie were happy. You guys got to see each other all the time since you became the lead singer of Corroded Coffin. The band supported you two going public endlessly due to the amazing on-stage chemistry you both brought to the shows. The more touchy, and lovey you guys were, the more people would come to the next show. But with this new, larger crowd came a new wave of women wanting to sleep with the hot lead guitarist, Eddie. 

You had no problem with it before. You know he wasn’t very popular in high school and it took you months to convince him that you honestly found him attractive, that you weren’t playing some practical joke, or just trying to bait him into embarrassing himself. So you were pretty happy to see all the attention he was getting, the attention he deserved. You could see his confidence rising, he would smile at the crowd more, play more impressive riffs and you’d get to watch his chest puff up in pride as the crowd uproars for him. 

But as he got more attention from the crowd, his attention was on you much less.

After shows, instead of hanging back with the rest of the band and relaxing backstage, he’d be out in front “entertaining the crowd” as he lovingly put it. It bothered you a bit because this is where you and Eddie got most of your quality time from but you would never take his little fanbase away from him so of course you never said anything. But there was this one week, gig after gig after gig. 

You got no love from Eddie on stage and assumed it was because he was too tired to put on such a show. He wasn't too tired for his guitar riffs, but you let it slide. It’s Eddie he’ll make it up to you backstage, or later than that if necessary. 

Then came time to head backstage, and Eddie didn't follow. You decided to let that slide too. He needs this interaction with his fans! He needs and craves that connection to people who are similar to him, maybe he’ll make some more friends around his age! You’d never want to do anything to stunt that. 

But three hours later, you Jeff, Gareth, and Doug aren’t in a forgiving mood anymore. You’d all joked about how once Eddie got a taste of fame he’d just leave you all behind but it’s starting to feel like less of a joke and more of a reality. 

You guys drink and complain, roll up, smoke, complain, and down a few more drinks before you all decide to take a stand. It’s a half-joke, that you’re all going to head out to the front and demand that Eddie come backstage to spend time with his band, with his girlfriend at least. The boys talk about inviting some girls backstage with them to make a party out of the whole ordeal but all those thoughts are gone and replaced with sober, solemn ones at the sight of what's happening at the front of the bar. 

Eddie’s sitting on a barstool, leaning back against the bar like he’s some god, he has his arms spread wide, resting on the bar and surrounded by women. Most of them are taking unpermitted selfies with him— not that he minds, but three women are draping themselves over him. One is at his side, sitting in a seat and resting her head on his bicep as she rambles to him and he’s listening.. intently. There’s another who’s on his other side, stroking and running her fingers through his hair, complimenting his curls, the ones you taught him to take care of. The third woman is standing between his spread legs, leaning over so that her cleavage is perfectly in his face under the guise of looking at and complimenting his necklaces. 

The smile on his face is one you’ve been missing, one you’ve been seeing less and less due to the stress of booking gigs but there it is… beaming for another girl.

Your heart stops when Eddie finally notices you guys standing on the other side of the room. You feel as though it’s about to jump out of your body and crash through the ground. Eddie pulls his arms in and pushes the girl between his legs away from him with a wide smile. “Oh. Hey, baby!” 

He’s getting up, explaining himself, and walking towards you all at once but you can’t even process what you’ve seen yet, let alone hear his bullshit explanation so you walk away. 

You turn and head backstage, already planning on packing your things and leaving. You’ll have to call an Uber because there is absolutely no way you’ll ride in the same van as him. You’re shoving your weed and rolling tray into your backpack when your head clears enough for you to listen to your surroundings again. 

You can hear Gareth and Doug scolding the girls, making them leave. You can also hear quick, sharp footsteps heading your way. Your breathing jumps and tears spring to your eyes, ones you quickly squeeze out and wipe away before Eddie comes through the door. 

You don’t look up at him, you just keep collecting your things and internally make a note to yourself not to leave your things scattered across an entire room. 

“Babe? Wait. Wait, wait you have to listen to me first.” You hold back a laugh and settle for a scoff at his statement. 

“I don't have to do anything, Ed.” His heart stops. You’ve only called him Ed once before; it was the biggest and only fight the two of you have ever had. His hands start trembling at their sides and his heart is beating roughly, rushing blood in his ears. He’s stunned to silence, watching you gather your things in a rush. 

You look around for your phone charger and spot it by the doorway, on a chair next to where Eddie is standing. He notices your gaze and quickly grabs the charger, holding it to his chest. “Listen.”

Your eyes slowly raise to meet his. He looks scared and desperate. You give him a chance. 

You put your bag down and lean against the back of the couch, staring at him and waiting for what you’re supposed to be listening to but he seems stumped. 

He didn’t have a plan or know what to say, he just needed you to stop. He tries to piece together a speech but his train of thought is disrupted by a disappointed sigh from you. “Look, Ed—”

He finally finds words. “Please don’t call me that.” His voice is strained, and you almost feel bad. 

“Why? It’s the title you deserve right now. You’re not my Eddie so I’m not going to address you like you are.” You start walking towards him, tears bubbling in your eyes despite the screaming in your head not to cry. 

“You sat there while those women laid themselves all over you, while the rest of your band, and your girlfriend sat backstage and waited for you. I’m your girlfriend. Do you realize how fucked up that is? You had me waiting and waiting for you, thinking you were just interacting with fans…” You think about how easily he fooled you. 

“I’m an idiot, huh?” You trail off, lost in your thoughts of despair. You’d always been so cautious of men, of giving your feelings, always keeping your guard up so you don’t get hurt, and the one time you decide to bring them down. 

“Okay! I’m fucked up for making you wait, I know that. I- I didn’t realize how long it’d been. I’ve been drinking a-and--” 

You cut him off. “Oh, you were drinking with them too! That’s great, Ed. Just the info I need.”

He sighs defeatedly. “I- It- But they don’t mean anything to me. They don’t! Why does it matter that I was drinking with them? It’s not like I was gonna do anything, baby. You know that.” He steps in your direction but you back away and wrap your arms around yourself. 

It breaks his fucking heart. 

“I don’t know that though, do I? Because never in a million years would I have ever thought that Eddie Munson, my boyfriend, would leave me waiting because he was entertaining other women. Do you understand? How- How nerve-wracking and shocking it was to see you out there like that?” 

You take another shaking breath as you avert your gaze from his, tears spilling from your eyes. “The worst part is that- that I believed you when you said you just wanted to interact with fans. I really— God I was even happy for you. I trusted you, Eddie. Co-Completely. You know how big that is for me and you manipulated it.”

He’s rushing towards you now, dropping your charger and taking your hands in his. “No. No, listen, I- I didn’t realize, I didn’t know it- Baby, I thought it wouldn't matter, I thought you wouldn’t care because I’m yours. We’re together so why does it matter? I- I won’t date them, I won’t fuck them, I don’t love them, baby. I love you.”

You sigh and look down at your feet, unable to watch as his eyes fill with tears. 

You wish he hadn’t said that. The first time you get to hear the words ‘I love you’ coming from his lips and it’s in a setting like this..

“Okay. I believe you, Ed, but… You broke my trust, you technically ch- cheated.” His eyes widen almost comically and as his mouth starts to shape the word ‘No’ you cut him off again. “You say you didn’t but just because you weren’t going to have sex with them doesn’t mean that you should let them all over you like that!” 

Your anger bubbles up again and you finish packing, grabbing your charger and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “You’re not that stupid, Ed. You know what you did was wrong otherwise you wouldn’t have pushed those girls off you when I showed up.” You turn to leave the room but you’re compelled to ask him one more question. 

“Did you how this makes me look? You’re supposed to be mine yet there are girls all over you. It looks like I can’t satisfy you, like I’m not enough. And you know I have shit with what. Or it looks like I’m a fucking idiot letting my boyfriend get felt up by fucking groupies while I’m in the back, none the fucking wiser.” 

His tears are spilling now, one currently streaming dramatically down his cheek. “But we- Like we don’t— You don’t have to leave me. We- I’ll be better. I love you, I don't love them I just.. I’ve never gotten attention like that.. I- I just wanted to know what it felt like.” 

You know he’s trying to get through to you, that he’s trying to explain away and excuse what he did but he’s just hurting you further. Why wasn’t my attention enough? 

“Yeah no, I figured that and um… Ed, I think we should take some time apart.” All you get from him is a badly veiled sob. 

“You can flirt around all you want and… and we’ll see if we still have anything between us by the end of it.”

It’s been a little over a month now. 

He called off band practice until further notice. 

You miss him. 

You took the first week apart to come to terms with what you had just done. It was a smart move. You’re not stable enough to let Eddie flirt around with your trust, especially since it had started behind your back. This way was better. You could take some time to yourself while Eddie does whatever he wants. You decided he could come back whenever he was ready, as long as he didn’t do anything with anyone. 

You meant what you said when you left him but you started regretting it after seeing the obvious dip in Eddie’s happiness. You’d see him in school with his head perpetually down. He doesn’t interact with you at all, he doesn't look at you on campus, he sits on the opposite side of the classroom for any class the two of you have together, and makes it a point to never turn in your direction. 

You truly wanted him to relish in the fame without any guilt on your part. You figured it’d hurt you but you wanted Eddie to be able to experience the popularity he never had before. He was supposed to take his newfound freedom and spread his wings however he wished but instead he just wallowed in what he had lost. 

You hoped he’d come to you in the third week, let you know he doesn’t want he freedom you’ve granted him and he’d beg for you back. But it never happened. You thought about going to him, letting him know that you can see him struggling and you forgive him and you guys can get back together like nothing happened. But your pride couldn’t let you. He hurt you and now he’s hurting, it's fair but you shouldn’t have to be the one to concede. 

After the fourth week, you realized your mistake. You should’ve known Eddie would never have the confidence to come back to you, to ask you for another chance, to ask you to forgive and forget his past crimes. You should’ve given him a set timeframe, you should’ve told him he was free to come back when he was ready. 

In the fifth week, Gareth called a meeting. He’d had enough of the missed practices and awkwardness amongst the band. You all responded to his email in agreement. Except Eddie. 

You thought about going over to his house before practice, just to see if he was planning on showing up, to see if he was okay. But you didn’t.

You were actually quite happy to catch up with the others. You joke about how badly all your skills have diminished without a month of practice. Doug jokes about how he mostly misses the DnD nights. As if on cue, Eddie walks in. 

He’s silent and his hair is a mess, obviously not taken care of and it breaks your heart. The room falls sadly silent as Eddie unpacks his guitar and takes a seat. You feel the tension in the room suffocating you and before you can think the action through you spit out a quiet. “Jesus, Eddie.”

The boys laugh beside you and you roll your eyes before making your way over to him. Eddie looks star-struck, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide as he stares up at you, admiring the olive branch you’re extending. 

You take in his bloodshot eyes— high, and his dark circles. Your heart clenches in your chest, recalling the various late-night calls with Eddie as he complains about his insomnia, and how he would wish you were there to soothe him.

You stand beside his chair, shake your head in teasing disapproval, and run your fingers through his roots. You sigh at the immediate tangle that meets you and lock eyes with him, a playful smirk on your lips. “Where’ve you been, Eddie?”

He sucks in a soft breath to answer before Jeff cuts him off with a loud clap. “Alright, positions everyone. What’re we practicing?” You smile at him one last time before heading for your mic. 

“We could start working on “Do I Wanna Know?” Doug suggests and Eddie immediately groans out. He is very open about his hate for the song, about how he thinks it's overplayed and has no substance. In reality, everyone knows he’s just frustrated with the chords. He always wants his hands busy and the chords to this song just aren’t stimulating enough for him, he thinks they’re “boring”.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Ed. This is what the people wanna hear.” Doug defends as he picks up his bass. You clear your throat and Gareth situates himself behind his drums. Eddie is the only one who doesn’t get in formation, staying seated across from you to your left, almost in your line of sight. You make an effort to keep your eyes forward as Gareth starts the beat, pretending you can’t feel Eddie’s eyes on you as he starts his riff. 

You do your best to keep it together as you notice how easily his hands glide across the guitar, you don’t even see him look down once. You rock in time with the drums before singing out the first line. 

It feels shaky and your voice is scratchy but you power through, the boys know you need some warm-up. Your voice evens out by the next pause and you’re starting to feel more confident. 

“Are there some aces up your sleeve?” 

You see Eddie nodding in approval in the corner and you try not to let pride bleed into your voice. 

“Have you no idea that you’re in deep?”

You look over at him to see him still watching you. 

“I dreamt about you nearly every night this week.” 

You note the recognition in his eyes before you break contact, looking back at the base of your mic stand. 

“How many secrets can you keep?”

You think about how the first time you heard this song it reminded you of Eddie. It almost perfectly encapsulated how you felt for him prior to dating, and it ironically relates to how you feel about him now. Still obsessed but too prideful to do anything about it. 

You can see Eddie still staring at you from his corner, unwavering. He always gets a little more confident with his guitar, but it’s been so long since you’ve been around him you feel stupid, like a little girl with a crush. 

Doug and Gareth come in as your backing vocals. 

“Do I wanna know?”

You take your eyes away from the mic stand and look straight ahead. 

“If this feeling flows both ways.”

You see Eddie sit up in his seat.

“Sad to see you go”

“Was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay.”

You start swaying with the beat, getting more loose, and feeling the song. You switch from foot to foot, swinging your hips gently with a smile. 

“That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

You look over at him again. 

“Crawling back to you.”

You say the next line as a genuine question, openly targeting him now. 

“Ever thought of calling when, you’ve had a few?”

You glance away from him, nervous under his penetrating stare. He hasn’t looked away from you once. You’re wondering where all this confidence was in the past few weeks. All he needed was for you to speak to him. You study his face, his reaction to the next line. 

“Maybe I’m too, busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I’ve thought it through. Crawlin’ back to you.”

Eddie’s hands finally rest and he leans forward in his chair, cocking one eyebrow at you as if to ask ‘Really?’ and you respond with the next line. 

“So have you got the guts?”

Eddie takes a deep breath before sitting back and adjusting his guitar strap. He runs his hands down his thighs, wiping his clammy palms on his sweatpants as he watches you perform. It’s been so long since he’s seen you, even longer since he’s seen you without it hurting his heart. He’s missed you. 

He takes you in. He notices the pink on your nails, a different shade than the last time he noticed. He can’t help but run his eyes down your body, loving the way you move to the beat, the way you’re shimmying your shoulders. His eyes focus on your lips. 

“Simmer down and pucker up”

He gets entranced with the way they form around your words. He misses feeling them on his, on him. He remembers how soft they are, how raw they get when you’ve bitten them bloody. He watches them stretch over your pearly white teeth in a smile. He can feel your eyes on him again but he can’t pull himself away from your mouth. Not even to look at his guitar as his time comes up. 

You watch Eddie pick his guitar up and start playing again, zombie-like movements as he zeros in on your lips. You try to focus on the words, to stay on key, not stutter or slip up. But Eddie's eyes snap to yours. 

“But we could be together… If you wanted to.”

He takes a deep breath after your last line, as if he was waiting to hear it, like it’s confirmation. You can’t help the smirk that your smile morphs into and Eddie looks down. It looks like he’s focusing on his chords but his eyes are closed, deep breaths filling his lungs as he tries to calm down. 

You’re sure that your performance is mediocre due to the lyrics and pitch being the last thing on your mind. You watch Eddie’s hand slide lazily across the guitar, his ringed fingers moving faster than you could comprehend without even a fraction of his attention. You ignore the pooling in your stomach and look away from him again, trying to focus on anything else. 

“Crawling back to you.” 

You pretend not to hear the smirk in Gareth's voice. You see Eddie looking up at you again in your peripherals. He sits back and adjusts himself, lifting his hips, lowering his guitar and when you glance over you can see a lip tucked under his teeth. 

“Maybe I’m too—”

You see Eddie leaning forward as he stares at you, begging for your attention so you turn to him. His eyes soften and you can see his chest heave ever so slightly. 

“-busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I’ve thought it through. Crawlin’ back to you.”

You go through the motions for the rest of the song. You keep eye contact with Eddie through all of it. 

Everything around you is forgotten as he looks into your eyes. You’ve missed him so much.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!! reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated!

[xoxoladyaz]

It Hits Different This Time

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

“Steve.” 

He hears Robin knocking on the door, her knuckles tapping firmly against the wood.

“STEVE.”

He’s lying on the bed in Robin’s guest bedroom, limbs starfished across the plush gray comforter, staring at the ceiling fan. Taylor Swift is singing to him, blasting from the Alexa speaker next to him.

Oh my, love is a lie, shit my friends say to get me by 

“Alexa, volume up.”

“Steve – STEVE!”

It hits different, it hits different this time

“Alexa, off,” Robin says as she marches into the room. Taylor’s voice cuts off almost immediately and Steve huffs, frustrated.

“Steve, as much as I love listening to your ‘Sad Taylor Swift’ playlist, you need to eat something. Go for a walk. Take a shower.”

“I’d rather not.”

Sighing, Robin kicks his left leg until he’s made enough room for her to collapse down beside him and gaze up at the spinning fan. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

They lay in silence.

“It’s just – our three-year anniversary, Robin.”

“I know.”

“He didn’t even text me.”

“I know.”

“And the supermodels at the club! And the tweets!”

“I know, Steve.”

There’s moisture pricking at the inside of his eyes now. “I just – it’s dumb, okay? I thought we could make this work. But I guess I’m not as important to him as he is to me.”

“Dingus,” Robin chides, and he turns his face away so she can’t see that he’s actually crying now. (She still probably knows that he is; Robin always knows. He just doesn’t want anyone to see.) “Okay, is Eddie Munson a huge idiot? Yes, and he has been for as long as we’ve known him. Is he kind of an asshole now that he’s famous? Yes. Do I think this is the end? Not necessarily.”

Steve snorts. “It’s been four days, Robin. Nothing for four days. I think it’s already ended.”

Robin cuddles up to his side so now they’re legitimately snuggling together. “Look, all I’m saying is he’s going to be back in the state in a few days and I think you owe it yourself to at least have a conversation with him. Either you two decide to work things out and start communicating better or you decide that he’s not pulling his weight to make his relationship work and you get closure. Either way, I think you need to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Steve sniffles. “You’re probably right.”

“Steven, I’m always right.”

“I’m sorry, do you want to talk about the Pixar question you fumbled on trivia night?”

“Dingus, I swear to god if you don’t let it go - ”

/////

Eddie’s groggy and nauseous and fuck the sun is too bright. He pulls at the window-shades as he stumbles into their kitchen, dropping his Louis Vuitton bag on the floor. The fact that he’s managing to walk while coming down from a five day bender that he barely fucking remembers is kind of a miracle. 

“Steve! Stevie, baby, I’m home!”

Silence.

What day is it today, Saturday? He’s probably at the farmer’s market with Robin. Eddie’s a few days early anyways, wanted it to be a surprise. And honestly, it’s probably a good thing Steve’s not home, Eddie needs to keep sobering up.

He pulls a fresh bottle of water out of the fridge and collapses onto the restored dining-room chairs they bought a few months ago. He tips it back and drinks it down greedily, swallowing the cool water down his aching throat. “Oh, that’s good,” he moans to himself, dropping the now empty bottle onto the dining room table.

The empty bottle that clangs against something. Squinting, Eddie opens his eyes and looks down.

There’s a small box sitting at his spot, a card laying haphazardly onto the side. It looks like someone opened it and scribbled all over what they originally wrote.

Eddie frowns and grabs for the card. It’s Steve’s writing. Whatever he’s crossed out is unreadable. Instead, all there is is the following:

I would say Happy Anniversary, but judging by the fact that (1) you didn’t return my call or even text me back and (2) the paps caught you at the club with the guys and a bunch of supermodels instead, I’m going to assume that you’re not interested in celebrating it anymore.

Eddie feels his stomach sink so fast that he’s going to lose all the water he just drank. 

Look, Eds, I am so proud of you for making your dream come true. I would never ask you to give that up or sacrifice your music for me. But I’m tired of feeling alone in this relationship. Of feeling like you don’t love me as much as I love you. Because I would do anything for you, but I think this all proves that you wouldn’t do the same for me.

Anyways, I still want you to have your gift. It wouldn’t make sense to give it to anyone else. 

Your biggest fan, Steve

He can’t see straight and it’s not because of the drugs. He can’t breathe and it’s not because of his asthma or his wicked smoking habit. 

He grabs the small box, flips it open, and chokes back a sob.

It’s a perfect replica of Aragorn’s ring, the ring he’s given that proves he is Isilduir’s heir. He’s wanted it foryears, but it was never something that he thought he could buy for himself. Sure, he could buy whatever random luxury shit without a sweat, but something so meaningful to him? Because reading The Lord of the Rings saved his fucking life in high school? His brain couldn’t deal with him buying it for himself. His therapist says it’s one of his many hang-ups regarding money and fame and his self-esteem issues, but that’s not what matters right now.

What matters is that Steve gave this to him, loved him enough to have it made for him.

And now Steve is gone.

Eddie grabs for his phone with shaking hands and checks the date.

“Fuck.”

Five days. 

He’s five days too fucking late.

He’s dialing Jeff before he can even realize he’s doing it.

“Dude, I really don’t want to be talking to you right now.”

“Jeff,” Eddie barely gets out, his voice choking on a sob. “Steve is gone.”

Jeff’s silent for a moment. 

“I’m on my way.”

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

This is like my second attempt at a poster.

[blue-blue-blooms]

The First Date

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Your first date with Eddie doesn't go exactly as planned after you and your friends get taken and drugged by Russian spies, making him think that you stood him up.

Warnings: A little bit of angst.

2k words

Eddie Munson.

You'd seen him around school. He was loud, rough, and slightly intimidating. 

The first time you saw him was in the cafeteria, loudly speaking about the throes of capitalism, forced conformity, and the demonization of people whom society deemed 'different'. You mostly tuned people out during lunch, but it was hard to ignore Eddie. He was so captivating. You weren't sure if it was the way he used his entire body when making a point, aggressively gesticulating, or the way his face twisted and turned as he spoke, or just his general demeanor, that made everything he said sound so poignant. He hadn't really been in your orbit before, so outside your social circle. You were friends with people like Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, not necessarily because you were popular but rather through shared trauma. There was something about going through life-altering events and near-death experiences that really bonded people for life. 

The first time you spoke to Eddie was after you saw him taping a poster on a bulletin board outside the auditorium. 

Hellfire Club. D&D. 

"Hey, is that a D&D club?" you asked him.

He turned around, slightly startled, and looked at you with surprise. 

"Oh, hey! Didn't see you there. Yeah, it's a D&D club. I'm trying to recruit new members since we're running a bit low..." He replied, giving you a hesitant smile. 

He seemed a bit nervous, slightly tugging on his hair and anxiously tapping his foot. You're pretty sure you were making him nervous. You'd seen the way people like Steve treated people like Eddie, even though Steve had grown considerably after taking out a Demogorgon and watching his girlfriend nearly die. You'd seen the way Tommy and Carol used to laugh at the 'freaks', shoving them around in the hallways, making fun of their interests, like the time Tommy made someone in the band cry during a pep rally. The realization that Eddie was nervous because he expected you to do the same slightly hurt. 

"That's cool! This kid that I babysit—his name's Dustin, he really likes D&D. He plays it a lot with his other friends. Whenever I used to babysit him, he'd drag me to their games. I never really got it, mostly because any time I asked a question, Dustin would scream at me," you breathlessly ramble, "He's not a huge fan of anyone who doesn't get the point, like, right away."

It seemed that the more you rambled, the more at ease Eddie became, and suddenly he was laughing as you spoke. 

"Well, I promise that we don't yell at anyone in Hellfire. Only when we're excited," Eddie said, a small smile lingering on his lips as he looked at you, "Just in case you ever wanna join in."

"I might take you up on that offer. I've been pegged down the list of 'coolest teens' that Dustin knows, and my ego's taken a hit," you joked. 

You hadn't ended up joining Hellfire. But you and Eddie had become sort of friends. You'd see him around school. You were both in some of the same classes, you'd see him in the hallways and you'd wave at each other. Sometimes you'd see him in the parking lot after school and you'd chat for a bit. But that was the extent of it. You didn't grow closer until summer started and you got a job at Starcourt. You worked at Café Nocturne, right across from Scoops Ahoy where Steve had started working. Most days, you spent your lunch break lounging around Scoops Ahoy, eating free ice cream, and making fun of Steve with his co-worker Robin. Sometimes you wondered what Eddie was up to, not having seen him since summer started, and you found yourself hoping you'd see him around Starcourt. 

It wasn't until the second week of summer that you saw Eddie. The Café had been relatively quiet, only an old couple sitting in the far corner drinking lattes. You were trying to pass the time by making random drinks when you saw Eddie lingering by the cash register. 

"Eddie!" you said, surprising yourself by how loud you were. You cleared your throat awkwardly and shuffled over to him, sending him a shy smile. 

"Y/N? Hey, I didn't know you worked here," Eddie said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "It's nice to see you again, I was wondering where you went."

"Oh, just been making coffee...hanging out with my friends," you replied, "How's your summer been so far?"

"Erm, yeah, it's been okay. I've just been working, hanging out with Gareth and Jeff, writing some new music," Eddie replied.

"For Corroded Coffin, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, wow, how'd you know about that?" Eddie said, nervously twirling his hair. 

"Oh-um...I heard you talking about it in the cafeteria once," you responded, hoping you didn't sound like a stalker.

"Right, yeah, you should come see us sometime. We play in the Hide Out every Tuesday," Eddie said, as a shy grin crept on his face, "We kinda get a crowd, actually...of about five drunks."

You let out a small giggle, "That sounds nice. Unfortunately, I work every Tuesday. Maybe when school starts?" 

Eddie was slightly deflated at that, nodding his head in understanding. Not wanting to ruin your one chance at spending time with Eddie this summer, you hesitatingly asked, "Maybe we can hang out sometime? You could teach me D&D? I didn't get the chance to learn when you first offered..."

Eddie immediately perked up at that, nodding vigorously as he said, "Yeah! Yeah, that'd be great. I can totally do that. Erm, do you wanna meet here tomorrow at 7? We could grab some food-"

"Oh, I was hoping we could meet somewhere else. Maybe at Patty's diner? It's just that I spend all my time at Starcourt," you responded.

"Yeah, that works. Patty's at 7. It's a date," Eddie replied, before quickly backtracking. "Not like a date-date, I just meant, like, a platonic date. Like just friends hanging out, chilling, y'know? Unless you want it to be a date? It doesn't have to be! But, like-"

You cut him off before he could dig further into the hole he found himself in, giggling a little at how flustered he looked. "It's a date. A non-platonic, hopefully romantic, date."

"That's...that's great, yeah. I will see you then," Eddie said breathlessly, shuffling his way out as he raised a hand to wave goodbye, almost knocking into the table behind him as he left.

God, he's adorable. 

♡♡♡

"I swear to God Dustin, if we die in this elevator, I will strangle you with my bare hands," you grit out, pacing back and forth as everyone tried to reel in their panic, "I have a fucking date in two hours and if I miss it, I will literally end you."

"No one gives a shit about your stupid date," Dustin yelled, throwing his hands around wildly as Erica slammed a bottle of weird-looking fluid on the wall. You weren't even gonna try and deal with that, it looked like Robin had it handled as you watched her snatch the bottle from Erica's hands. 

Things escalated pretty quickly from there and suddenly you were lying on the floor of a bathroom cubicle, trying to make the room stop spinning. 

"Is this what it feels like to do drugs?" you groaned out, stretching on the disgusting tiles and praying that your head stopped pounding. 

"I wouldn't know," Robin replied, "But if it is, this sucks."

"Steve? Are you alive?" you asked, "I don't need you dying on me. You're my ride home." 

"I'm good," you heard him croak.

"Think we puked it all out?" you asked.

"Let's check...interrogate me." Robin said.

"When's the last time you peed your pants?" Steve asked, and you heard Robin let out a cackle, "Today."

"What the fuck, Robin?" you laughed.

"It was when they took out the bone saw. And only a little!" she defended herself, giggling with you. 

"I'm meant to be on a date," you moaned, "He's gonna think I stood him up. How am I meant to explain this shit?" 

"We'll figure it out," Steve replied, "Also, who's this guy anyway? You've been moaning about missing this date for, like, hours?"

"Yeah, it's getting kinda annoying," Robin added. 

"It's Eddie." you replied, crawling into the stall next to you and sitting down in front of Robin. "Eddie Munson. He's a senior. Long, curly, untamed hair. Really loud. Plays D&D."

"Wait, Eddie 'The Freak' Munson? Isn't he a drug dealer?" Steve asked, a little surprised. 

"Don't call him that!" you said, slightly defensive, "And I didn't know that. But if this is what drug consumption is like then he needs to stop."

As the drugs slowly purged out of your systems, and Steve tried to hit on Robin only to get rejected and have a heart-to-heart, the three of you found yourselves giggling hysterically in the dingy bathroom. It wasn't long until Dustin and Erica burst in and dragged you all out. As the night progressed, things only got worse. And soon, all of you were facing off a thirty-feet tall Mind Flayer and reeling from the loss that followed. Then the dust settled, a different story was fabricated, and everyone had to pretend to move on. And you had an apology to give.

♡♡♡

You didn't see Eddie until school started again. It was the first day back, hallways busy and bustling as the freshmen teetered around cluelessly. This year felt different, like there was some cosmic shift in the air. Everything seemed duller, void of any feeling. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but if you had to guess then it was probably the Starcourt 'fire' that had brought on this change. Things weren't the same after. It was like all of Hawkins was reeling from the loss, despite not having known the truth. You wished that you'd been oblivious. Maybe then everything wouldn't hurt this much. 

You didn't see Eddie around school until lunch. You were almost sure he was avoiding you. You finally saw him lingering in the hallway by his locker, putting some books in, and you immediately made a beeline for him. 

"Eddie!" you called, startling him as he looked up. 

You walked over before he could say anything, "I've been looking all over for you! I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to Patty's. I wanted to explain everything over the summer, but my parents grounded me, which was incredibly annoying since I didn't even do anything. But I think they were just super paranoid and didn't know what else to do and I didn't have your number so I couldn't call you and-"

Your rambling was cut off by Eddie as he held up his hands and dismissively waved, "It's cool, it's fine. Honestly, I don't know why I thought you would show up. If it was some joke or whatever, like, it's...whatever."

"What? No! That wasn't some joke. I really wanted to go on that date, but you know what happened at Starcourt, right?" you anxiously spoke.

"The fire? I don't see what that has to do with anything. Doesn't your shift end at 5?" Eddie asked skeptically. 

"Yes, yes it does! But I usually hang out at Scoops Ahoy because Steve's my ride home. I was doing that and then the whole fire thing happened, and I just got caught up in all of that, and then, y'know the house arrest? My parents thought if I stepped outside, I'd die or something," you quickly explained, "I promise I didn't stand you up!"

Eddie looked at you for a while until a small smile crept up on his face, "Relax, I believe you."

You immediately let out a sigh of relief, "I promise I'm not an asshole." 

There were a few moments of silence that stretched between you two until Eddie finally spoke, "I'm sorry about what happened. That must've been horrifying."

You don't know the half of it. 

You let out a nervous chuckle, "Erm, yeah, it was. But I've had some time to recover."

"How about we re-do that date?" Eddie asked, "Except this time I'm gonna pick you up, can't imagine the types of trouble you get into when I'm not around."

"Sounds good, Eds." you smiled, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. As you broke away, you could see a small blush settling on his face.

"God, Y/N, buy me dinner first."

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Sweet Revenge

Summary- The boys want to make their last night working at the camp a memorable one, but you’re going to make sure they remember it well.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- The boys being perverts

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @wheels-of-despair

(my tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🫶)

Word Count- 1.7k

“This is a terrible plan…” Grant whispered to the boys ahead of him on the trail, keeping an eye out behind them so they wouldn’t get caught, “If someone catches us, i’m bailing and blaming you guys.”

It was the very last night at the camp they decided to work at for some extra cash during the boring hot days of summer, and they were glad you agreed to go along with them and be another counselor. They didn’t expect to be separated from you nearly the whole time, but they still did their best to see you when they could.

You worked on the girls’ side of camp while they worked on the boys’ side, and though it was difficult to find each other every now and then you were thankful for the late night campfires and trips into town for some extra beer with the rest of the counselors. During the day they’d see you during the various activities with the kids.

Watching them swim and canoe down at the lake, guiding them down the forest trails during nature walks, and of course keeping your groups close by during the dusk campfires. And they could tell during the kickball matches that the girls you were watching over were just as tough as you. Good for you.

The boys kept telling you they wanted to do something big to celebrate the last night at camp, something memorable, and you knew that meant they were going to be up to no good.

“We’ll be fine,” Eddie looked back at him as he continued leading the boys through the dark forest, flashlight in hand, “we’re not going to get caught.”

“How do you know?” Gareth asked from behind him, “It’s not like you’ve done this before.”

“I just know, alright?”

Eddie continued leading them down the dirt path and smiled as soon as he saw the lamppost illuminated through the trees.

A small clearing was ahead, and three cabins were surrounding it, lights still on.

Eddie smirked as he moved a bit slower, eyeing each cabin to see which one would be perfect. He had no clue which one was yours. This had to be a careful pick.

“(y/n) is going to murder us if she sees us.” Jeff said as he looked over the cabins with the rest of the boys.

“That’s a sacrifice i think we’re willing to make.” Eddie said as he made his way closer to the cabins.

The three boys followed quickly after him, making sure to stay crouched just in case one of the girls spotted them. They quietly approached the window of one and Eddie was the first one to peek through it, smiling as soon as he saw them.

The female counselors always had the cleanest cabins.

He looked over the four girls occupying the cabin, each of them in their pajamas, a few flipping through magazines while the others talked and listened to the music playing on the small radio. It seemed like they were just going on with their night as normal.

“Let’s check the next one.” Eddie moved away from the window and led the boys to the other cabin, smiling big as he peeked through the window and saw it was empty. “Perfect.”

The four boys moved quickly, keeping watch as they snuck around and entered the girls cabin.

“Jeff, you keep watch.” Eddie ordered, Jeff nodding and peering out the window of the cabin door, “You guys help me look…” He said to Gareth and Grant.

The three of them moved quickly, checking under the beds and in any drawers they saw, looking for any sign of-

“Found them!” Gareth smiled as he saw a little bit of fabric poking out the top of an empty suitcase beneath one of the beds.

The three others gathered around, smirks on their faces as Gareth pulled out the suitcase, eager to open it up and finally get to the treasure they had been waiting for their whole lives. Or at least their teenage lives.

They gathered around the suitcase as Gareth slowly unzipped it, but the smiles on their faces fell when they saw that the fabric was just some scrap from a cut up camp shirt, and the suitcase was empty, with the exception of a note.

‘NICE TRY’

“What does ‘nice try’ mean?” Grant asked.

“It means exactly what you think it means, idiots.”

They all jumped back as they heard the sound of your voice, looking up at the entrance and seeing you standing there in your pajamas, arms crossed over your chest with a smirk on your lips, every other female counselor standing behind you.

Their faces were white, eyes wide, you could sense their fear immediately. You thought they would’ve cried had those other girls not been behind you.

“Hey, (y/n)… You’re not mad are you?” Eddie asked, the other boys turning to him, knowing it was a terrible idea to even bother asking you a question as dumb as that.

“Oh, you want to know if i’m mad about catching all four of you sneaking around the girls cabins and trespassing into one of them to try and get to our panties? Including mine?”

They were silent, and you could just feel how angry the boys were at Eddie for even planning such a stunt.

“How did you know what we were doing?” Jeff asked, “We didn’t tell anyone.”

“I already knew you were planning on doing something like this as soon as Eddie said he wanted to do something ‘big’ to kick off the last night here. Fortunately for us, i watch a lot of movies, and figured you’d do something cliche like this. And you’re lucky that we were the ones that caught you and not of the higher ups.” You stepped in, the other girls following behind you, arms crossed over their chests and angry looks on their faces.

“Well…” Gareth started, “we can just pretend this never happened, can’t we?”

“Oh no, that’s not how this is going to work.”

“You’re not going to turn us in are you?” Grant said.

“Nope.” You smiled, the girls smiling and giggling behind you, “We’ve got something much worse planned…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Stop squirming! If you keep moving i’m going to mess up!” You giggled as you held Eddie’s face still, applying the last of the bright makeup to his face. “Perfect! All finished.”

You and the other girls stood laughing at the boys, their hair tied back with different clips and barrettes, their faces painted up in the gaudiest makeup you could find, and they’re lucky you didn’t make them change into the girls uniforms too.

The boys looked to one another and couldn’t help but let out a few held back laughs.

“Now, we’ll be nice and walk you back AFTER we make a stop around all the boys’ cabins and make an example out of you.” You helped Eddie back up onto his feet and felt him tense up under your grip.

“You can’t do that! Isn’t this punishment enough?”

“We could bring you to the owners cabin if you think you’d prefer that?”

You gripped him by the forearm, another female counselor holding onto the other arm to keep him from getting away. There’s no way you were going to let that happen.

The other girls were holding tight grips on the arms of all three boys, not being able to hold back their own giggles as you started making your way out of the cabin, making sure to stop by the occupied cabin before heading back to camp to let the other girls see your work.

“(y/n), come on,” Gareth whined, “this is humiliating…”

“is it? Maybe it’ll teach you to not sneak into the girls cabins and try to steal their underwear, you pervert.”

“It was Eddie’s idea!” Grant chimed in.

“I don’t care whose idea it was!” As you and the other girls walked along the dirt paths through the forest, you smiled seeing the lights up ahead, “You all got caught, you’re all responsible, so you’re all getting punished.”

You and the girls giggled at their collective groans, and you could feel them tense up as you got closer and closer to the campers cabins.

Even though you knew they meant no harm, it was still funny to see how they expected you to have no idea what they had planned for that night. It may not keep them from making stupid mistakes, but it’ll definitely keep them from trying to pull one over on you again. Especially knowing that their campers were going to be the first ones to see why you and your girls shouldn’t be messed with.

As you approached closer and closer to the first boys’ cabin, your grips on their arms started to loosen, and Eddie looked down to you with a puzzled look on his face,

“You’re letting us go?” He asked.

“Not exactly,” You approached the door of the cabin and turned to face the boys, “we’re going to let you go, but we’ll be watching and making sure you make proper fools of yourselves.”

“And if we decide to run?” Jeff asked. The two girls holding onto his arms gripped them tighter, digging their nails into his forearm, Jeff groaned in pain and the girls loosened their grip once more, “Point taken…”

The boys sighed and looked at one another as each of you let go of their arms, taking a step back to watch them make complete and utter fools of themselves. It was all their own doing of course, but that made it so much better.

You and the girls watched and giggled as they burst into the first boys cabin, switching the lights on and waking their campers up. The laughter that erupted from the cabin was enough to crack you and the rest of the girls and you couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, your knees hitting the dirt as you couldn’t help yourself from falling as you all watched them run from cabin to cabin and wake up their campers one by one to show them your work.

And though the boys seemed like they had dreaded everything up until that moment, they seemed to be enjoying themselves as they ran around with the kids.

Maybe next year you’d go easier on them.

(this was made for my summer camp AU event, if you’d like to request any fics or HCs please let me know! 🫶)

[kkpwnall]

wanted: pool boy at the vampire mansion

for my darlingest louseph @cheatghost who a few days ago sent me the words "pool boy steve at eddie's vampire mansion" at 6 in the morning and immediately got my brain whirring. like 0 to 60, dead asleep to wide awake and writing. so here's less than 1k words of pure ridiculous fun.

[also on ao3]

It’s not a bad gig, really. Even if it stipulates in his contract that he has to be shirtless while he’s on the property. But Steve also signed the contract in his blood so he’s not sure how legal it is. 

Plus the pay is insane. He quit his other jobs, and he’s basically got free reign of the pool all day. So he takes his time with the skimmer fishing out all the leaves and dead bugs, swims laps for a while. Spends the rest of the day in a lounger before adjusting the chemicals so it’s perfect by morning.

What do vampires need with a pool anyway?

The four guys stay in the house whenever Steve comes by, but they're friendly enough and wave at him through the dark tinted windows. 

One guy ogles him the whole time he works. Not that he really minds. So what if Steve gets to work early, just to put on sunscreen? Who’s gonna know if he puts some extra flex in his muscles while he works? And who cares if they’ve got the cleanest pool in all of Indiana? It’s not hurting anyone. 

But Steve's drawn to him the same way he was drawn to the ad in the first place, with his long dark curly hair and unending collection of black band shirts. His crooked smile and dimples and shining brown eyes.

It's just... they've never once spoken. And Steve is dying to get to know this guy who makes the goofiest faces at him. Who was pissed when Steve laughed the first time he did, hands up like devil horns, tongue lolling and eyes crossed. Until Steve made his own face back. 

This guy, who plays elaborate charades with Steve through the glass, trying and failing to do the classic walking-down-stairs bit. Who went boneless when one of the guys in his band (? coven? pod? Ask Dustin what a group of vampires is called.) dragged him away while Steve mimed crying, waving an imaginary hanky at him. This guy, who clutched his heart and fell over when Steve lowered his shades and winked at him one day.

And it's because of those shades that Steve has to drive all the way back to the mansion late one night to retrieve them from his usual chair.

When he gets there, someone’s floating in the pool. Someone, with long curly hair spilling all around their head. Someone, wearing all their clothes, and Steve can't tell from the weak pool light if they're face up or face down, but they sure as hell aren't moving. 

His lifeguard training takes over between one step and the next, as he bolts for the pool, launching into the water, and throwing himself forward with broad strokes. 

Except when Steve gets to him, the guy isn't drowning, he’s sputtering and swearing and pushing away from him in the water. “What are you doing here?!”

“You're not drowning...” Steve says blankly, trying to catch his breath as he treads water. 

“No! And thank you for the rescue, Lancelot, but you need to get out of here.” His long hair streams over his face as he spins while Steve paddles around him to make sure he’s really alright. 

“Lancelot?” he asks, just to keep the guy talking, to hear more from his honeyed voice. Better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. 

“A knight in shining armor,” the guy mumbles, trying to hide his face. “A hero rescuing fair damsels and slaying vile beasts.” 

Steve chuckles, but doesn’t miss the venom in his last words. He catches him by the upper arm to stop his spinning. “No, I know who Lancelot is, it’s just–”

It’s just he’s even prettier close up. It’s just his skin is freezing cold in the sun-warmed pool water. It’s just he’s looking at Steve, caught somewhere between a grimace and a grin, and his teeth are so so sharp. 

“I’m Steve,” he says, moving closer. Entirely entranced by the pool light, the moonlight, the starlight, glimmering in his eyes. Steve’s hand has a mind of its own, rising out of the water to cup the guy’s cheek with a wet palm, “And you’re…” 

Gently traces his lower lip, runs his thumb over the sharp canine, careful not to touch the pointed tip. 

“You’re beautiful,” Steve breathes. 

The guy surges forward, reeling Steve in with a hand on the back of his neck, and kisses him fiercely. Steve kisses him back just as fervently, wraps his arms around his waist and kicks out with his legs to keep them afloat, as his tongue slides past the guy’s teeth to swirl and dance with his. 

It's messy and uncoordinated and they sink and bob in the water as they move against each other. The guy's fingers tangle in the shaggy hair at the base of his neck, twisting and snagging. Steve groans and stretches a broad palm up between the guy's shoulder blades, pressing further into him, drinking all of him in.

“It’s Eddie,” he says, pulling back and panting when they finally part. “I’m Eddie.”

Steve grins at Eddie and kisses him again, pushing them through the water towards the edge at the shallow end of the pool. He can think of better uses for his legs right now.

[juniperskye]

I Can’t Be Your Friend.

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you do something that alters the state of your friendship. You realize that being his friend hurts too much now. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff/implied Smut

Word count: 2473

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied smut, drug use (marijuana), explicit language, idiots in love, Steve’s absent parents, mention of underage drinking. Let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Tonight was going to be amazing! Steve had invited everyone over for a summer kickoff party, there would be pizza, swimming, beer, and good company. Robin and you had gotten to Steve’s early to help set things up, pizzas were on the way, and you were just waiting for everyone to show up now.

First to arrive was Nancy, she had driven over with Mike, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. They had come bounding in with arms full of chips and soda, piling them recklessly on the coffee table. The younger kids were arguing about who got the bathroom first to change.

You couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes as you made your way to the door, letting in the next group. You had assumed it would be Johnathan, Argyle, and the rest of the kids, but instead, Eddie was standing in the doorway.

“Hey Eds!” You smiled.

“Hey! How’s my best girl?” Eddie pulled you into his arms and lifted you slightly as he spun you around. “I’ve missed you dude.”

“I’m good Eds. I’ve missed you too!” Your heart clenched slightly as he placed you back on your feet.

Your relationship with Eddie had always been like this. You were best friends, but sometimes, things were done or said that seemed a bit more than friendly. You’d stayed more nights with Eddie this last year than you did in your own home. Robin had pestered you about the status of your relationship with him to which you’d always reply; “We’re just friends, he doesn’t see me that way”.

“So, I know the kids are here, but I brought a little something special for us. I figured we could go to the van, take a few hits then come back in.” Eddie said wagging a joint in front of you.

“Eddie!” You hissed, covering the joint. “You can’t just pull that out. But yes, give me fifteen minutes.”

Eddie tucked the joint back into his jacket pocket and watched as you made your way over to Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Robin gave you a knowing look and you brushed her off. You were all catching up for a bit, laughing at the nonsense the kids were getting up to. Eddie was the one to open the door for Jonathan, Argyle, El, and Will. As they all walked in, Eddie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your head.

“You ready?” Eddie whispered.

You nodded and let him lead you outside to his van. Climbing in the back, you made yourself comfortable amongst the pile of blankets and pillows, all the while, Eddie lit the joint and placed it to his lips. After a few quick puffs and one long drag, Eddie passed it to you. The two of you passed the joint back and forth for a bit before it was nearly gone.

“Do you want the last hit?” Eddie asked.

“Nah it’s cool, you take it.” You leaned your head back.

“We could always share it.” Eddie said with a sly smirk.

“Okay.” You blushed.

Eddie took a long drag, holding it in as he moved towards you. He brought his lips to yours, only separated by a few millimeters. Your lips parted in a gasp, and he blew the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled sharply, allowing the smoke in. Your mind felt hazy, and you were starting to wonder if it was the weed or the lack of space between Eddie and you. Eddie met your eyes and pulled back slightly, clearing his throat.

What the hell was happening?

The two of you made your way back into the house and took turns changing into your bathing suits. You rushed outside and went to sit on the steps of the pool with Robin and Nancy. Each of whom gave you a pointed look.

Eddie made a stop in the kitchen to grab you a coke and an orange soda for himself, he then made his way outside. He sat the two cans in front of where you were sitting with the girls, the next thing you knew he was jumping into the pool, splashing the three of you, eliciting screeches from you three.

He surfaced and swam over to you, settling himself between your legs which were dangling off the step. His chest pressed against yours as he reached behind you to grab his soda. Your breath was caught in your throat.

Had he always been this beautiful?

Who were you kidding. Of course he had.

The night went on like this. The kids swimming, playing a ridiculous game of Marco-Polo, Steve grilling hamburgers and hotdogs, Eddie treating you like far more than a friend.

Now you were all crammed in Steve’s living room, some movie playing in the background. You couldn’t remember the name of it because you were far too distracted. When you had come into the living room, all the good seats had been taken, and instead of letting you sit on the floor, Eddie had pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your middle.

You had been sitting like this for about half an hour before he made the suggestion.

“Do you want to go back to my place?”

This typically wouldn’t have sounded like a line, but given everything that had occurred today, you couldn’t help but feel like his words held deeper meaning.

“Okay.”

He led you into the trailer, just like any other time you’d been here, only this time there was a tension hanging over you.

More like sexual tension.

Jesus, get a hold of yourself.

Entering Eddie’s room brought forth a wave of anticipation, you couldn’t help but feel like something was about to happen. Eddie walked over to you and handed you one of his Iron Maiden shirts and a pair of his boxers.

It’s now or never.

You locked your eyes on Eddie’s as you slowly removed your tank top and shorts, leaving you clad in only your bathing suit. Eddie took a sharp breath and pulled his shirt over his head. Up until now things felt as though they’d been moving in slow motion, then all of a sudden things switched to fast forward.

Eddie lunged towards you and locked his lips onto your own, your hands finding his curls, his finding the ties to your swimsuit. His lips tasted like orange soda and nicotine, he was addicting, and you knew you’d never be able to give this up.

Eddie woke up and glanced over to see your naked form curled up in his bed. He couldn’t believe it, the two of you had taken that leap, this would change everything between you.

This could change everything.

I can’t afford to lose her.

You stirred awake, noticing your lack of clothing, and taking note of the discarded clothing on the floor.

So that really did happen.

This could change everything!

“Hey.” Eddie said quietly.

“Hey.” You blushed.

You sat up holding the sheet to your chest and turning to meet Eddie’s gaze. Something was off about his expression, he seemed somber, and you were terrified to find out why.

“So, uh…” Eddie turned, breaking eye contact. “We should just forget this ever happened; you know. So, it doesn’t fuck up our friendship.”

Please say you don’t want to forget about it.

Of course he doesn’t want me.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Of course she doesn’t want me.

You stood and quickly began pulling your clothes on and gathering your things. There was this loud ringing in your ears and you’re sure Edie was calling your name, but all you knew was you needed to get out of there.

You were halfway home before the ringing stopped.

How could you be so stupid.

Then the tears started. Not only had your heart been broken by the man you loved, but you also lost the one person you’d want to hold you while you cried.

“Dude what is up with you? You’ve been super weird since Steve’s summer kick-off party.” Robin pestered.

“Yeah she’s right, plus Eddie’s been extra bitchy, which usually only happens when you haven’t seen one another in a while. I thought for sure you guys were gonna hookup that night.” Steve ranted.

Your face turned a bright shade of red and you let your gaze fall to your lap. You knew you weren’t exactly being discreet with your avoidance of Eddie, but you didn’t’ think they’d call you out directly.

“Holy shit! You two had sex!” Robin shouted, smacking you on the arm.

“Ow! Yes, we did. And it ruined everything. The next morning, he suggested we just forget it ever happened.”

“What? No way, Eddie’s head over heels for you. What happened?” Steve asked.

You explained to Steve and Robin the events of the night and they both concluded that it made no sense. They were both convinced Eddie was in love with you.

This was when Steve and Robin came up with their plan. They would get you and Eddie together before summer ended.

“Steve, this isn’t working. She is declining every invite to hangout; she has gone as far as driving over and leaving if she sees the van, and even calling everyone to be sure if Eddie was invited.” Robin said throwing herself on the couch in defeat.

“That’s it! We will invite her over for a movie night, just the three of us. Then after she’s here, you go to the other room and call Eddie and invite him over. That way nobody will be able to tell her that he’s invited because he wasn’t.” Steve explained.

“Hey guys!” You called entering Steve’s house.

“Hey! How have you been? We haven’t seen you in a while.” Robin pulled you into a hug.

“Sorry about that, I just…I can’t bring myself to face him yet. I’ll get over it, I just need time.” You said.

Steve came in, greeting you and pulling you to the living room to help him pick a movie. He threw a wink over his shoulder to Robin. She rolled her eyes and made her way to Steve’s dad’s office ready to make the call. When she came to the living room she played it off as a trip to the bathroom.

Things were going well, they felt like old times, save for the hole in your chest in the shape of one, Eddie Munson.

Speaking of which.

“Hey guys!” Eddie greeted, entering the house.

“Guys, what the hell.” You said threw gritted teeth.

They both looked at you with guilty eyes. You shook your head and told them you needed to go. Grabbing your bag you went for the door. It took everything in you to not look at him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Eddie called after you, following you outside. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You’re dodging my calls, your canceling plans, you’re literally leaving as I showed up to hang out.”

“Eddie, I can’t do this right now. I need to go.”

“So what? That’s it?” He had never sounded so defeated.

���Eddie, I…”

“Is this because of that night? C’mon you’re my best friend, you’re just gonna throw that all away?” He grasped your hand in his own.

“That’s the problem Eddie, I can’t be your friend anymore. Everything is different now.” You shook your head, pulled your hand from his grasp, and took off walking back home.

Eddie walked back into the house and immediately receive a slap to the back of the head from Robin. She and Steve proceeded to explain to Eddie how he had messed the whole thing up and how him suggesting you just “forget it ever happened” had led you to believe that he didn’t care about you.

Initially he didn’t believe them that you had feelings for him, but after they literally spelled it out for him, he realized what an idiot he had been.

“I’m gonna need your help.”

The plan had been a pretty difficult one, Eddie needed Robin and Steve to convince you to come over again for an end of summer bash and after the last time, he was sure you’d say no.

Robin had explained to you that after your conversation with Eddie, that he definitely wouldn’t be coming. She told you that she asked him, and he had declined. It was then that you agreed, but not without a pang of guilt filling your chest. You couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Eddie. The look on his face when you told him you couldn’t be his friend had been haunting you.

The day came and you drove over to Steve’s, shocked that the only car in the driveway had been his. You parked and let yourself in.

“Steve? Where is everyone?”

“Hey! I’m in my room, and they’re on their way I figured you could come early so I could see how you were doing.” Steve said.

You walked into his room and noticed he was seemingly searching for something, he was scrambling around his room, swiftly moving to his dresser as you made yourself comfortable on his bed. You looked over at him just in time to see a mess of curls enter and Steve pulling the door closed. You heard the lock click and the distinct sound of a chair being pushed against the knob.

“What the hell is this?”

“I needed to find a way to talk to you and you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Eddie, let me out.”

“Not until we talk. Look I fucked up that night, I suggested that we forget about it and that was stupid.” He exclaimed.

“Eds, look, I just need time…these feelings will go away eventually. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, but how am I supposed to be around you when I’ve tasted your kiss and will never get to experience that again?”

“I don’t want your feelings to go away. Truth is, I only suggested it because I thought there was no way you could love me back.” Eddie explained.

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eddie pulled you into a gentle kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. You let your fingers get tangled in his hair. There were whispered apologies between kisses and you two only broke apart when the two of you needed air.

“How would you like to go get some dinner?” Eddie asked.

“I would love that!” You replied.

With that, Eddie walked over to the bedroom door and began knocking, shouting to Steve that he was safe to let you guys out. His knocks sped up the longer it took for Steve to release you both.

“Harrington, hurry up! I gotta take my girlfriend on our first date!”

[mysticmunson]

walls of jericho (e.m.)

summary: eddie's guard has been up for everyone, but you make his reservations tremble, and he doesn't know what to think of that.

authors note: hi i wrote this and it's very angsty. the semester is finally done so i'll hopefully be around more :) much love. xx elora. (my blog is 18+)

warnings: allusions to smut, angst, eddie being bad w emotions :( (there’s a happy ending) eddie is 22 and reader is 21 :)

thank u to my loves @lilacletter @bimbobaggins69 and @andvys who i spoke about this fic with! :D

As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie thought he was dreaming, that you weren’t sitting on his bed and timidly asking him a question he never expected. You nervously twisted the hem of your black cotton skirt, not daring to look into his eyes that widened with surprise.

“Will you take my virginity, Eds?”

He knew you were having a hard time intimately as you told him almost everything, with a few failed dates ending with a peck on the cheek. As you both grew older, it became more embarrassing for you to be so inexperienced, even if he assured you it was fine.

Perhaps it was a stupid idea that shouldn’t have been announced, but his response made it even worse after he was assured you were being serious.

“Only if nothing changes then okay.”

His hands roamed to uncharted territories, feeling how your skin warmed beneath him and your breath staggered. His lips touched yours for the first time after years of only meeting the apples of your cheeks.

Your voice bounced from your chest as he entered you, the soft hymns of your pleasure clashing with the harshness of his room. He hushed your winces as you accommodated to his latex-covered cock, never more vulnerable than at this minute. 

His bister eyes bore into yours, mouths agape as your breath exchanged for gasps, while he was applying pressure to the bundle of nerves beneath your navel. Bliss arose from thin air as you finished, his hips stuttering shortly after as some of his body weight remained on you. 

As his nose pressed to your ear, he knew he fucked up, but he couldn’t bring himself to move until you squirmed. Rolling to his side, he didn’t meet your gaze that shot at the side of his cheek. 

“How was it?” You asked meekly, pulling his sheets to your chest to cover yourself, adjusting to the viability of his old pillow. 

“Good, you’ll make a dude real happy.” He quipped, staring at the popcorn ceiling above him, not daring to welcome the immense warmth he felt coating his gut. He told himself it was because he was in orgasmic bliss and that he knew you’d delight someone with your body.

The night went on after clothes returned to both of your bodies, he noticed your abnormally quiet demeanor, but decided you must be a little shocked at the recent events until you went to leave.

“You make me happy, Eddie.”

He shrugged, mumbling a ‘you too’ as he yanked off his shirt from today and put on an older band tee with a hole on one of the seams. He’d remove his sweatpants once you left.

“No, Eds, I mean… You make me really happy, I like you.” You spoke, sounding celestial in a cream-white blouse. With the look he gave you during sex, it gave you the motivation to speak your mind, but now with his silence, it felt grim. “Please say something.”

His back was to you now, looking down at the wrinkled sheets, cursing the fact he let it get this far. He couldn’t face his emotions now, he needed to be alone.

“You didn’t say anything.” He stated coldly, but you awaited some hope, that this couldn’t be the result. “The one thing I said was that nothing changed.”

“Nothing has changed, Eddie, it’s just-” You consoled, but the burn behind your iris’ were betraying you.

“No!” He snapped, turning to face you with beet-red cheeks, “I told you no feelings, don’t try to make me the bad guy. You’re my best friend and we need to agree that you didn’t just say that, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that he stomped to his front door and swung it open, waiting for your heavy footsteps to leave in embarrassment. His head hit the door as it shut, biting his lip and clenching his eyes shut. It was for the best, he’s doing this for both of you.

That was hard to believe as he heard your choked cry before your car purred, pulling from the trailer park until it became a small light near the highway. Grabbing a beer, he switched on a record and took off his pants. 

He lit the rolled blunt tucked in his bedside table and took a deep hit, feeling his fingers tingle as he vanished into the thrashing of Steven Duren through his boombox. The walls of Jericho etched inside of his mind teetered, but never fell and he wouldn’t let that happen.

The barriers within him remained stagnant as he went through the next week, remaining his chaotic self on the battlefields of Hawkins. He showed up full of energy for Hellfire, only earned one day of detention, and sold to more clients than normal.

Meanwhile, the drive home was one of the most humiliating moments of your life, trudging inside your apartment and getting in the shower. It was foolish to believe he liked you this way, just based on how kind he was with you. Your stomach churned at the thought of him looking at other women as he did to you, that every ounce of sincerity you believed was contrived.

The week came and went as you worked and caught up on school, focusing on that instead of on yourself. How sometimes you could smell his cologne from his presence weeks ago, feeling the grazing embrace at encompassed your shaking frame only to be left alone in your bedroom.

You had called Robin and Steve to catch up as they missed movie night the Friday before, the night you and Eddie became closer then further than ever. The diner floors were freshly waxed, your shoes announced your presence before you could say hello.

“Hey, what’s up?” Robin questioned as you sat, “Where’s Freakazoid?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, grabbing the plastic-covered menu, and looking at the fake images of the food that wouldn’t hit your table. The mention of Eddie made you queasy, anxiously pondering if every time you left your apartment is when he would call, but each time, the call log remained barren.

“What? You two are inseparable, I thought you held hands when you pissed.” Steve joked, but was genuinely curious about the metalhead’s disappearance. 

Robin and Steve hadn’t seen Eddie since last week when he returned a VHS copy of a western that Wayne liked. Nothing seemed peculiar and they told him why they couldn’t make it to movie night a few days later as Robin got a B on her calculus test. Her grades seemed to be the one thing her mother focused on, so she was grounded aside from work. 

Your continued silence made them confused further, looking at one another to see if there was a missing component, but nothing was transmitted. A waitress came by to collect your order before heading off, coming back briefly to give you your drink.

“What happened?” Steve asked, noticing your shoulders tensing and scratching at your collarbone. 

The humility was consuming you, unable to pick up your phone and call him, the number you knew by heart. The self-confidence that you had been working on vanished over a few sentences, your face shoved into your pillow as you drifted into the white noise.

“Nothing, just needed some space.” You disclosed, revealing the slight truth without too much of the bigger picture. 

“Lies. Lies. Lies.” Robin bites with no malice, sipping her Dr. Pepper from the glass cup, “You’re acting weird, don’t act weird, that’s hair’s job.” Steve elbowed her arm at the dig, scoffing as he drank his Coke, fidgeting with his watch. 

The truth sat on the tip of your tongue, knowing it would feel better to remove it from your sole subconscious, but it also held a bomb. One that would reveal the intimacies, your naivety, and Eddie’s coldness. The two were a sarcastic pairing, but they weren’t cruel.

“Eddie and I slept together, my first time.” You mumbled, looking at the gold dainty rings on your fingers before up as Steve choked on his drink, not expecting the answer. He would’ve heard of it from his friend, surely, but he also knew you wouldn’t lie.

“What the- So what happened?” Robin caught herself, seeing your defeated expression as you drew shapes on the table with your fingers.

The hardest part became lodged in your throat, constantly in an internal battle of if Eddie was being cruel or honest or some odd combination. His words were blunt, but he began with them. It was you who spoke out of turn, but it felt so cruel.

“I told him I liked him,” You whispered, the wavering in your voice rising, “He told me we agreed on no feelings and that he wouldn’t be made the bad guy. He made me agree that I never said anything, but he hasn’t spoken to me since.” 

 Looking dumbfounded, the pair opened their mouths to provide comfort, but the waitress returned with their meals. For Robin, a plate of pancakes, and for you and Steve, two burgers and fries. Grabbing the ketchup, you tapped the bottom of the glass to slide some out.

“Shit, Y/N,” Robin breathed out, eyes still widened, “I’m sorry that’s-“

 The sound of your drink hitting the table ceased her reply, though the action wasn’t done with intention on your part. 

“No, no. I shouldn’t have said anything, he said from the beginning he didn’t…” You trailed, eating a fry to push the wail down your scratching throat, “Like me.”

Wiping his mouth with the white napkin, Steve scoffed, pointing in your direction. “Don’t, he’s being a total jackass! He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” 

Nodding, you let Robin divert the conversation to something else that consumed her mind, more than happy to think of anything, but those brown eyes looking in yours. Halfway through a story about an interesting couple that made their way to the beaded back section of Family Video, you excused yourself to the restroom. 

Waiting a brief moment, neither one of them could hold back the commentary they desperately wanted to spill, but refraining for your own well-being. 

“What is his problem!” Robin scoffs, shoving a syrup-covered bite in her mouth, “He had to have known how she felt, I mean, she’s not exactly the best about holding her love back.”

It was true, you were affectionate to people you cared for, and Eddie was one of your closest friends. You had seen him at his lowest and highest, for every midnight drive and stroll in the mall. You didn’t falter your affection when kids began to tease you both with Eddie receiving the brunt, choosing to stay at his side. 

The feelings were contemplated for years, many mocking your demeanor in which you would shrug off their teasing. But the constant reminder of how you did act differently with him lingered until one day you sat across from him silently as he wrote out his latest DnD campaign that you knew. It scared you, but somehow being hurt by him would be okay in your mind if it meant you could have him briefly.

“It’s weird as hell, man. I’m gonna talk to him, it’s not fair to her.” Steve mused, sympathizing with the abandonment of a first lover not reciprocating their feelings.

While Steve’s first had been a random girl at a party, he still experienced immense pain sitting beside her in geometry. He didn’t even want to conceptualize the pain you must be enduring, hoping it would vanish rather than fester. 

After you returned, the discussion resumed about strange customers and annoying strangers until there were only crumbs and reminisce of syrup. 

Waving goodbye, you went back home, the quiet car ride reminding you too much of that day just last week that had you crying all over again. 

Steve dropped Robin off at home before driving to Forest Hills with Eddie’s van nowhere to be seen. Groaning, he smacked the steering wheel, now deadset on finding his friend before the sun went down. 

As he went through town, he looked for the car, stumbling across the record store sticker between a Radio Shack and Dairy Queen. Spotting his target, he pulled into the parking lot and headed inside, the dust swirling as the wind brushed past the old types of vinyl. 

A girl with long black hair was talking to Eddie, feeling his muscles through his leather jacket and fluttering her eyelashes. He watched as she noticed the time, scribbling down a series of numbers.

“I’d love to see you play sometimes, I’ve heard great things about going backstage.” She purred, her voice becoming louder as Steve snuck closer, only appearing when she had vanished.

Grabbing the small paper from his friend's hand, he shoved it in his pocket and crossed his arms. He resembled an upset parent, too tired to deal with bullshit, but caring too much to let it go unnoticed. 

“Hey! Man, what the fuck?” Eddie exasperated, holding his arms up, “Give me that.” 

“No, not until you explain why the hell you’d say that to her.” Steve stated, raising his brows in anticipation. 

What excuse could he possibly give for viciously rejecting his best friend and having a random girl touching him up in a public place, all within days. 

“What? How did you even hear, I thought it was just the two of us in here until you showed up! Honestly thought she’d give me head in the bathroom-“ Eddie began smugly, smirking at how she came onto him on her own accord.

“Oh my God, I don’t care about her, I mean our best friend who’s been crying for a week.” Steve clarified, grimacing at his words.

He didn’t miss as his friend’s face went slightly pale, arms falling to his side, looking to the side at the selection of 1960s hits. 

“It’s none of your business, nothing even happened.” He huffed, turning on his heels before his Reeboks scuffed out of the old building, but Steve was hot on his tail. He never realized how broad his friends' strides were until now, barely able to climb into his passenger door unwarrantedly.

Eddie huffed, his finger tapping against the leather steering wheel cover that was beginning to peel. Steve stared at his profile, anticipating some form of reaction that would involve a yell, but the silence felt heavier.

“Get out of my car, man.” Eddie sighed, looking over at his friend, “I wanna go home and smoke.”

Steve shrugged, stepping from the van and slamming the door, retreating back to his BMW. He clicked the button before pulling away, leaving Eddie in the parking lot with the other older cars.

Truthfully, Eddie should’ve anticipated that Steve wouldn’t give up that easily. So when the BMW pulled into the trailer park moments after Eddie had, he acted annoyed, but let him inside anyways. 

“Don’t be stingy, I want hits too.” Steve said, walking behind him and into his room which had clothes scattered against the ground and beer cans on the dresser. 

“Don’t get fucking pushy, Harrington, why should I give you my good weed?” Eddie questioned, biting words as he pulled out his grinder.

Sitting beside the other man, he began twisting the silver container, hearing the small blades slice the fresh bud that he could smell.

“I just want to know what happened, calm the fuck down. And I should get your good weed because my high school parties made you so much money!” Steve retorted, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, making sure his shoes hung off the bed.

This was true, Eddie was able to help Wayne with bills during high school because of their unspoken deal. Steve would keep the assholes away from Hellfire if Eddie sold him good weed and sold the rest at Steve’s parties. It was a just arrangement and became the building blocks of a peculiar friendship.

The pair sat with just the sound of the old AC machine filling the space as Eddie took rolling paper and set it on his thigh. Years of practice came in handy, assembling the blunt in record-breaking time and lighting it with the lighter from his right pocket. 

Taking a hit, Steve remembered why he used to smoke frequently, it was soothing. Definitely much easier to take than alcohol which left him groggy and nauseous the following morning.

“So?” Steve began as his friend's shoulders visibly tensed, taking a deep drag and holding it in his chest before it seeped through his cracked lips. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie falsely assured, picking at a piece of skin beside the nail of his middle finger, and looking down at his lap.

“Cut the crap, dude.” Steve snapped, but regained slight composure at the reminder that Eddie would likely not respond well to hostility, “She told me and Robin what happened.”

The forced laugh sounded bizarre, but he kept up the facade of being annoyed with you for being hurt. In reality, the thought that you went to someone else with a problem instead of him gnawed at him, but it was only because he was the problem.

“I told her from the beginning I didn’t want anything to change, it wasn’t a crime.” Eddie scoffed, gulping when he remembers the disappointment in your eyes, a similar one being in his friends.

He feels a set of chills when he faintly hears your cries from outside his front door in the back of his mind, the smoke on the exhale burning more than usual. He kicked off his tennis shoes, thudding on the floor and rolling twice over. Crossing his legs. he picked at the cut on his hand-ripped jeans.

Steve looked at his friend in silence, the smoke blurring some of his features in the dim light of his room. He wanted to get angry at his words, but he had known him for a few years now and knew there were layers to his emotional presentation.

“What did she say?” Eddie caves, hearing the thumping against his chest in an anxious manner, taking another hit to combat the nerves.

“She said you took her virginity and when she said she liked you, you said you agreed no feelings, that you wouldn’t be made into the bad guy, and that you both need to pretend she didn’t say it.” Steve sighed as his friend winced subtly at the venom in those words, the awaited guilt bubbling, “Remember how Mary made you feel?”

Eddie’s throat constricts at the mention of the mysterious woman he met one night at a bar near Indianapolis, a spur-of-the-moment road trip to see a band he liked when he came across Mary. She had no idea he was seen as a loser and that he was a virgin, she came onto him and he was thriving.

After a quick fuck in the back of his van, he felt overwhelmed as she slipped out the door. His face was flushed as he adjusted his clothes, tossing the condom in a plastic bag he got from the gas station. When he asked if she wanted his phone number, she laughed, pulling down her shirt.

“I don’t roll like that, loverboy.” And she was gone. The intimacy they shared made him believe this was unlike any other time, that she truly was becoming infatuated with him, but she left without a trace.

He hoped he’d be able to win her over until she saw her going into another guy's car, speeding off to the sound of Aerosmith. 

The memory upset him, he didn’t like being vulnerable during sex afterward, only doing quick fucks where they both understood what they were agreeing to. The mere mention of her name put him back in that spot, sitting in silence as he watched her walk back into the club.

“That’s not the same thing.” Eddie cringed, passing the weed to his friend who took the final hit before putting it out in the ashtray. Despite the alleviating drug, they both felt the pressure of the actions and the reciprocations.

“You’re right, it’s not,” Steve accepted, giving his friend confusion for a moment, “It’s actually much fucking worse.” 

Eddie’s blood began to boil as his insecurity soared, Steve was one of the only people who knew about the incident with Mary, and he only discovered it after Eddie accidentally revealed he wasn’t a virgin anymore. He tried to avoid the harsh rejection, but it was hard to explain the story without it.

“No, it was not, asshole!” Eddie rejected, crossing his arms like a petulant child, that resentment of that night and every time someone left him hanging knotted in his body.

“Really? It’s not?” Steve taunted as Eddie shook his head, “Fucking a stranger and them leaving is worse than being your best friend’s first, someone who stood by you through every time you got yourself into trouble, and when they opened up, you raised your voice at them and said they never said anything?”

The reality of Eddie’s words swiftly made him lose his breath, running a hand through his curls, catching on one of his gaudy rings. Removing his finger, he pulled it from his hair, fiddling with the silver band with a small bat engraving.

The ring had been a gift on Eddie’s 16th birthday from you, secretly saving up most of your money from your summer job to pay for it, and one he never took off. 

“Why’d you say it?” Steve asked gently, “It’s not like you man, especially not with her.”

“The last thing I need is to lose her, the greedy part of me couldn’t stomach the thought of her being with someone else either.” He revealed, inadvertently revealing his feelings, “No one would’ve treated her right for her first time.”

“I know you don’t want to tell me how you feel, but you need to tell her. What you did was really fucked up.” Steve added, “It’s okay to be scared, but it’s not fair to hurt people who weren’t. She worked up a lot of courage to do that.”

The mention of courage almost broke his composure, recalling every time you mentioned being terrified of rejection. That your crush on Matthew in freshman year ended terribly when someone told him your feelings, leading to him mocking you in front of everyone.

He hated that he was added to the list of men who did you wrong, even after wanted to beat up every single one before him. He needed to make this write somehow or, at least, soften the aftermath. He had to be something he grew to despise, vulnerable.

Days went by before Eddie finally found the strength to approach you, a sick feeling in his belly that he couldn’t shake as every night passed. He approached your door Thursday evening, his boots sounding against the hollow apartment hallway. He ignored the hidden key by his foot as he knocked, one he would’ve used weeks ago.

The door flew open, the breeze blowing some of the hairs from your glowing face, resting your shoulder against the wood. He fought the urge to slump his shoulders when he saw your face slightly fall, mouth opening to see the tip of your teeth.

“Hey, kid, can we talk?” He adjured, his leather jacket making his skin heat further under the nerves.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You murmured, moving back to allow him in, shutting the door behind him as you went to the living room.

The room was spacious, with a couch from the 70s you had found at a garage sale that Eddie helped you transport it to your home, decorated with blankets and pillows, and a boxy television.

Both of you sat down on the couch, your bare knee touching his denim-clad one, but to his dismay, you move it quickly. He watches as you fidget with your fingers, looking down at your lap.

“How are you?” He asked, scratching his collarbone that had been exposed by his stretched shirt collar. 

“I’m fine,” You nodded, “How are you?”

The response was polite, but it wasn’t you. The tight-lipped smile was a facade, not comparable to the radiance your laugh exuted. 

“M’okay, wanted to talk to you though.” He replied, turning towards you with a knee on the cushion.

“Okay, I just have a, uh, date tonight so it can’t be too long.” You disclosed, turning towards him as his face dropped, the blood in his veins freezing.

Opening his mouth to respond, he nodded, beginning to play with the rings on his fingers. 

A date. You have a date. How could he interject this? What good is it to pour his heart out when you have someone getting ready to see you. He wasn’t one to harbor regrets, but now, he wished more than ever that he hadn’t done what he did. 

In that same vein, he also knew he was shit at masking something he cared about when looking them in the eyes. He couldn’t walk out of here with that same weight on his chest. He needed to wrap it in a bow and leave it at your feet as you chose to share it or throw it away. No matter what, it wasn’t just his anymore.

“I’ve been a dick,” Eddie conceded, “I’m sorry for running last week, you didn’t deserve that. I fucked up.”

Even when mad at him, he watched as you softened at his self-depreciation, something you fought with him about. It scared him sometimes when he would realize just how much power you gave one another with the other.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you. At all.” He expresses, the intensity not waning, “As weird as it sounds, I got angry because I knew I felt the same, but I know me. I know my track record, how nothing good ever lasts, and how I screw it up eventually. I- I just can’t lose you.”

Looking at him with a perplexed stare, he saw you contemplating if he was being genuine. You never doubted his sincerity till now, but he could understand why.

“You’re incredible, I don’t know why you’ve been my friend for so long, and why you would let me be your first time.” He exhaled, the faintest smile that didn’t brush his dimples, “You excite me, enchant me, but you scare me.”

Standing to pace, he ran a hand through his valleys of curls, “You scare me because when I was inside you and any other time before, I couldn’t fucking think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” The tears he hadn’t released in years burned as he choked, avoiding your eyesight.

“I know you have a date, so I’m going to go, but I-” He stopped when he saw your feet near his. 

He looked up just before you met his lips, hugging him like a vice as he returned it, trapping each other. The shock of what you were doing was prevalent as his lip quivered, hungrily meeting yours.

“I like you too, Eddie. That didn’t change.” You murmured against him as he said a quick reply and kissed you, “I’ve liked you for longer than I’d like to admit.”

Not giving you time to jump, he yanked up your thighs that soon wrapped around his waist. He, thankfully, knew the inside of your apartment like the back of his hand and found your bedroom quickly.

Before he set you down, he pulled away, almost moaning at your puffy lips and glistening eyes. 

“What about your date?” 

The warmth rose to your cheeks as you pulled yourself closer to his chest, staring downwards. “I lied, I just wanted to see you jealous.”

The fake squawk of repulsion from him made you bite back a smile, seeing his brown eyes enlarged and his pink lips expanded. He dropped you to your bed suddenly, but his body covered yours soon after. 

“Well, mission accomplished, I wanted to slash his tires.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled at your giggle, “You’re an absolute, menace.” 

As the laughter subsided, the look in his eyes softened as the walls of Jericho fell to rubble. You could see the soft slivers of light brown within, the glass-like quality of the eyes you could see with your own closed.

Pushing his hair back from his face as he did yours, it was almost like seeing one another for the first time. Practically every other aspect of yourselves had been revealed to one another except that one small part. The part that contained the future you had no idea existed yet. 

It was in that moment he felt complete tranquility, that everything he fought so hard to protect was safely nestled within your grasp, but he also knew you had been holding it for quite some time now.

“I want you to make love to me, Eddie.” You whispered, your breath fanning his face and stroking all stress-driven crease etched on him.

His agreement was sealed with his mouth, kissing down your neck, lingering on the sensitive points that derived a louder whimper than the one before it. As your eyes fluttered closed, a sharp bite hit your earlobe, making you squeal.

“Eds!” You squirmed, but it was no match for when he placed all his body weight on top of you with a laugh that vibrated you.

“That’s for getting me riled up about your nonexistent boyfriend.” He teased, kissing behind your jaw, rubbing his nose against the soft skin.

“I mean, now I do have a boyfriend.” You sighed, turning your head to meet his throat as he rose, cheek pressing to your forehead. Your lips were so delicate, the scraps of lip balm went to his reddened neck, nibbling on his collarbone.

“Really? Who?” He joked, expecting an extravagant response as he had given you, but he was always surprised by you.

The legs on the bed quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against your core and hands went up his shirt, nails scratching his broad back just enough to leave a temporary mark.

Moaning unabashedly, he buckled his hips against you, fist tightening. Sitting up he tossed his shirt to the ground, smirking as you looked at his body in awe, licking your lips. 

He stood to pull off his jeans, getting his right foot stuck in the tight material. Kicking it off in frustration, you watched fondly at his struggle, removing your own clothes until clad in undergarments.

When freed from the denim, he was about to crawl on top of you before he scanned your body, mumbling a blend of curses. Yet, you sat with a shy smile, giggling at his affections toward you. 

“Oh, you’re gonna ruin me, kid.”

hi im giving you a hug.

[ryan-waddell11]

I need him in a way that’s concerning to feminism. I’m just looking at his side profile and I’ve lost my mind.

[blueywrites]

I Will Wait

a soulmate!fakemarriage!au with rockstar!eddie and personalassistant!reader (also featuring ronance)

cowritten by @abibliophobiaa, @blue-mossbird, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, and @fracturedarkness

18+ only for mature themes and eventual sexual content. fem!reader

one (9.9k) | next | masterlist | AO3 | 🎵 shmackin' tunes

in this universe, there is no upside down, the year is 1995, and corroded coffin = nine inch nails. if you didn't check out the prequel publications (hot off the press on our series masterlist), make sure you do, since they provide important backstory for the IWW universe! read them carefully; there are secrets. 😉

Your mind is a buzzing whirl, just like that of the streets of New York City below, visible through the thick glass of your apartment window. Below, where you can hear the blare of honking horns, can see people loitering on the side of the road, hands waving high in an attempt to hail one of the taxis rushing past. You watch as people dart across busy intersections, dodging oncoming cars, scattering like ants across criss-crossed streets that teem with activity even in the dead of night.

It’s a constant, a comfort, something you can cling to as anticipation bubbles and wells in your gut. 

Outside, the sun is beginning its slow descent; glowing bright skies begin to deepen into a powdery orange, hinting at a day starting to close. Your fingers press against the window, a mental note already forming to clean it once you step away, eyes peering out into the bustling city streets. You work your way down the mental list once more: dishes washed, already set aside in the drying rack; laundry ironed and folded, pressed neatly into your drawers in categorical order; counters wiped down, shades dusted, furniture polished; dishwasher emptied, cups, plates, bowls and utensils placed in proper cabinets; AOL inbox checked, your confirmation for the time you would be meeting your new boss responded to, while the rest of the emails were placed into proper folders or deleted completely.

You’ve already changed your outfit three times. Laid multiple options out on your bed and ironed them all. You had held them to your body in the reflection of your bedroom mirror and tossed them into a heap at the foot of your bed. This wasn’t just any day, after all. The importance isn’t lost on you. This isn’t like any of your temp jobs that came before it. This is the first you’ll be working alongside someone with undeniable notoriety in the music space. 

A celebrity, really. 

“I can see your mind working, you know?” Angela, your roommate, glances up from where she sits at your kitchen island. There’s a magazine in front of her with some likely-falsified article about the newest Hollywood “IT” couple on display, dressed to the nines with glowing, airbrushed features. Her nails tap along the countertop, stark red against pale cream, as she arches a brow in your direction.

You’re already walking into the kitchen to join her, skirt sliding against your tight-clad thighs as you reach down beneath the sink to grab a bottle of windex, sights set on the fingerprints on your floor-to-ceiling windows. She twists in the chair while you rustle about, ignoring her as you grasp paper towels from the rack.

“This is a good thing,” she says, sighing with an exasperated shake of the head. Your reflection obscures for a brief moment, replaced by blue spray, before you wipe your lingering prints away. “You’ve wanted to travel for so long. You know, see the world and all of that. This is your opportunity to do it. And shit, it beats working for that asshat you used to deal with. What was his name again?” 

You slip back into the kitchen to throw the towel away, heels clacking against tile. “Carver,” you reply, just as the lid to the garbage falls closed. You lean back against the countertop, smoothing your sweaty palms along the sides of your skirt. “Pretty sure anyone would be better than him. I still can’t believe that Mr. Harrington came to the office looking to mitigate all that tension between Mr. Munson and Jason by trying to partner up Carver Distilleries and Corroded Coffin for a commercial, and Jason went and ruined it by running his mouth. I wish you could have seen it, Ange. Mr. Harrington was so disgusted with how he behaved, he extinguished the deal completely right there in his office.”

“Exactly, because even he knows that man is vile,” she sighs with a pout, her form slipping down from off of one of your shoddy barstools, curly blonde hair swaying around her shoulders as she walks. You snort when her hands curl around your forearms, shaking you lightly. “What did your new boss say? Something about you being more than equipped to handle this position? Didn’t he, oh I don’t know, request you specifically for his client? You’re going to be fine; in fact, you’re going to be wonderful. If there’s anyone in this world who can handle the notorious Eddie Munson, I think it’s you.”

With a newly restored confidence, you set to the bustling streets of Manhattan, sights poised on the recording studio address you were given. You thought your first day might start with something akin to an office introduction. Something, at the very least, a little less imposing than this. But you double checked your email from Mr. Harrington before you left and printed the directions that now sat clutched tight within your hands. 

The building that stands before you at the end of your trek looms arresting and proud in the midst of the bodies swarming around you. Your eyes lift hesitantly to the glass door, your mirrored reflection leaping back at you. Angela’s words ring true in your ears; you are more than adequately equipped. You wouldn’t be invited here if it were not fate itself beckoning at your door. With a resigned exhale, your fingers twine around the cool, metal handle and step inside. 

Schmackin’ Records is a world unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. From the moment your feet hit the mat at the front door, company logo etched into it, you know you’re no longer sitting at the front desk of Carver Distilleries. Your head tilts upward to the records dangling from the ceiling, then lower to the endless sprawling walls littered with posters boasting of accolades achieved by the success of the artists that have roamed these halls. You’re struck with the realization that you’re standing in the shadows of legends that have also trailed this path before you. 

This— this place and this moment, are your current reality. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be the new assistant, would you?” The woman at the front desk catches your attention. Your head whirls, fingers slipping from where they rest along a glass case affixed to the wall, proclaiming a recently obtained platinum record. Her face softens at your visible nervousness. “Sorry to scare you, dear.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! I’m… ah, I’m actually here to meet with Mr. Steve Harrington. He gave me this address….” You hold aloft the directions in your hand, heart dancing in your chest as your heeled shoes propel you over to where she sits behind a glass panel. The woman before you glimpses down at your directions printed from MapQuest with a pitying grin, her head bobbing before her fingers clack away on her keyboard. 

“That’s right! Hold on one moment, sweetie.” You open your mouth to speak as she lifts a phone from its receiver and dials a number quickly. You can faintly hear a voice on the other end. “Mr. Harrington? Yes, this is Joyce speaking. Mr. Munson’s new assistant is here looking for you… okay— yes, that’s fine. Thank you, yes— I’ll let her know. Goodbye.” 

Your legs plant beneath you firmly, shoulders ramrod straight, head tilted up in anticipation of your new role. Joyce only resumes in her typing, head tilted down toward her computer screen, leaving you to simmer alone in the tense silence. 

“Mr. Harrington will meet you on floor five. Just take that elevator down this hall on your left,” she says, head lifting abruptly from her work. 

“Thank you!” 

Somehow, the directions only bring you more nervousness. The knowledge that all that stands before you and your new role is five floors. A short elevator ride. Merely a few moments in time remain stretched between you and the catapult into a lifestyle you’ve only seen on television prior to this opportunity. 

Your shoes clack against the laminate flooring, a foreboding tap tap tap as you shuffle your way down the short hallway and press the call button for your elevator. The doors open with a soft ping, heart ricocheting against your ribcage as you step inside and the silver metal closes behind you. Hesitant fingers raise to press the number five, the circle bursting to life and illuminating your selection. You step into the center of the room, hands clasped at your side, eyes ahead of you on your distorted reflection upon the surface. 

You settled on a simple outfit for the day. Something pristine and professional. A thin black long-sleeved shirt, pale gray tweed skirt, black tights, and dark heels. Simple and understated, though still maintaining your own preferences for stylistic choices. Those same clothes cling to you now. Your tights suddenly seem too tight, heels increasingly pinchy around the back of your heel, skirt prickly and coarse against your thighs, the neck of your sweater digging into your throat. You’re parched, though you doubt any amount of water would assist you now. 

The door opens to reveal sprawling wooden walls, as well as the figure of Steve Harrington standing before you in a pair of slacks and a simple button up. He looks exceedingly kind just as he did the first time you met him. Dark, depthless eyes with a wide grin spread across finely hewn features. His fingers card through his hair as you step out to greet him, hand coming to extend before you at the ready. 

“You’re here! Oh, thank god.” He shakes your hand briefly and nudges you toward the opening of a hallway, those endless panels of wooden walls surrounding you on either side. The voice that spills from him in a rush is a frantic murmur of, “I’m sorry to have contacted you on such notice. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble—”

“Oh, not at all, Mr. Harrington,” you interrupt, swallowing thickly as he pauses in stride. “Sorry.”

“No, no. Please, call me Steve. Mr. Harrington is what people call my father,” he says, smiling softly. There’s a comfort in his gaze, a warmth that oozes from him. The tightness in your chest loosens, a deep breath pouring out. “We’ve… well, his last assistant quit abruptly, you see, and therefore we were obviously left with no notice. So when you said you could start as soon as possible, it was almost a godsend.”

Your hands grip tighter to the band of your pocketbook draped over your shoulder, leather still cool from the afternoon air. “I’m here for whatever you need, Mr. Ha— Steve.”

The hallway leads to a door, dark and imposing, with a wide silver handle. His fingers curl around it and hesitate, head turning over his shoulder to gauge your expression. The worrying of your lip pauses, teeth releasing from their tense position against your skin. Your mouth quirks upward into a hopeful smile, willing those nerves bubbling to subside. 

“What exactly have you heard about Eddie Munson?” he asks you. 

You know he’s not expecting a true answer. Not really. You’ve done minimal research. A quick Yahoo search brings up more articles than you know what to do with in reference to the infamous Eddie Munson. Most of which had brought you to pages detailing his altercation at the Grammy Awards in 1994 and the numerous escapades he’s gotten himself into in the course of his still newly established stardom, as well as his whirlwind romance with his wife. 

“Not much,” you admit, and while it is the truth, Steve seems to deflate a bit. 

His shoulders drop, hand coming to run through that full head of dark hair on him once more. That easy demeanor shifts, mouth turning southward. “Eddie is… he means well. He’s just— well, he’s gone through a few assistants in the past few months, as you know. In the few years I’ve known him, I can tell you with certainty he is dedicated to his craft, but he tends to veer into the wilder aspects of life. What he needs right now is someone who can handle him, and I truly believe that person is you.”

You feel your stomach drop. Initially, when Steve had offered you the position, he boasted of a fast-paced role that required adaptability. Your previous job had been nothing but back to back phone calls, fielding all the incoming clients and their questions, managing the schedules of your manager, and ensuring all issues were handled accordingly. 

Babysitting a rockstar hadn’t exactly been on your agenda; yet even despite all of that, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity and had accepted the job offer. 

“And the others?” you question, hand coming to rub along your bicep.

“I wouldn’t worry about it so much,” Steve says with a shake of his head. “You handled Carver. Eddie should be a breeze.”

Carver Distilleries was not your ideal job, but it was the job you acquired shortly after a brief stint as an administrative assistant for a local community college. The company touted a prolific background of over thirty years in business and you jumped at the prospect. It had been straightforward enough most days. The phones rang around the clock and you handled the calls as expected, passed them off to their proper channels, and made sure the son of the CEO was happy at all times. 

Jason Carver was, to put it lightly, the devil’s incarnate. Most days you wondered if he’d been placed in this life for the sole purpose of bringing suffering to all those around him, with a pitchfork in one hand and tail swishing behind him as he stomped through the halls of the building. 

You couldn’t recall off the top of your head a day wherein he had ever been happy. Shockingly so for someone born from wealth and thrusted into the limelight, silver spoon in mouth at birth. Jason was proof that money hardly ever solved all problems.

He reigned as the crowned Prince of the company, his father’s shining star, who never raised his finger to do anything. For years, he rode on the back of his father’s coattails and treated those around them like they were beneath him, nose always upturned, sneer firmly planted on his face. 

That evening you were already overwhelmed. There was an issue down in the marketing department regarding a mixup in schedules, leaving the Carver’s seated next to a family they didn’t particularly have positive dealings with at an upcoming gala. To add to the rising tension, Jason sent you on an errand to retrieve his requested cappuccino. Light foam, two sugars, extra hot. When you’d returned, he was still in a meeting with some of his fathers business executives, hidden behind a glass door. You left the cup for him there, as requested of you, and rushed back to the front desk just as Mr. Steve Harrington walked into the building. 

He’d come in looking like any other businessman you’d seen grace the building in the past. Perfectly tailored suit and tie, briefcase in hand, hair coiffed neatly atop his head. Steve Harrington, though young, harnessed a professionalism about him that Jason Carver lacked. There were no sneers aimed your way as he approached the desk and greeted you pleasantly, nor did he scoff at the hand you’d extended in greeting, welcoming him with a soft thanks. 

“Mr. Carver is just finishing up another meeting and will be out to retrieve you,” you advise him, walking out from behind your desk. “Would you like coffee, water… tea?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” he says, holding his briefcase tighter within his palm as he made his way over to the small couch positioned across from you, nestled beside a potted plant. You retreated back to your desk as he pulled a phone from his pocket, voice rising just enough to ask, “Do you happen to have—”

“What is this?!” Jason’s voice boomed from down the hall. 

A loud thump echoed from his office, likely from something he’d tossed off his desk in frustration, and you knew well enough to duck behind the covering of your work space. You frantically thumbed the spacebar on your computer to bring it back to life, assuring everyone in your vicinity that you appeared occupied as a shock of blonde hair filled your peripheral. He’d bursted into the room with the dejected coffee in hand, hair strewn about messily atop, eyes narrowed in heedless anger. 

Your eyes flickered to the cup, then settled back on the opened email on your desktop computer. The subject line held a request for a flower arrangement you were set to purchase for Jason’s wife, Chrissy, because he couldn’t be bothered to do it himself. 

You let out a soft sigh and explained, “It’s the coffee you asked for.”

His nostrils flared like a bull, the embers burning behind his eyes glowing brighter. “I know it’s the coffee I asked for. I don't pay you to answer me with that sarcastic bullshit—”

“Mr. Carver—” The rise of your voice caught you both off guard, only further angering him. 

His eyes narrowed, brows knitted tight across the middle of his forehead, vein pulsing against taut skin growing redder by the second. “I asked for a cappuccino with light foam, two sugars, and asked that you make sure it’s extra hot. This isn’t extra hot. This isn’t even warm. It’s cold.”

“Yes, Mr. Carver. It was hot when I left it on your desk two hours ago. Would you like me to go and get you another one?” You try your best to retain a neutral tone. You’re aware of Steve’s eyes trailing along both your forms, interrupted from his own work by your increasingly heated argument. 

He barked out an incredulous laugh, head shaking. “No, I don't want you to get me another coffee. You should have known my meeting would run long and planned accordingly. I don’t know where you get the nerve to talk to me like you are when you seem to have forgotten you are no more than a rece—”

“Mr. Carver.” You both paused at the finality of your tone, throat filled with the bitter taste of the degradation he attempted to throw your way. “Your two thirty meeting for the Tennessee Maple Whiskey commercial is here.”

He clicked his tongue, shooting a glower your way. You already anticipated a meeting in his office later wherein he reminded you of all the reasons why your behavior was unacceptable and why you were lucky to still have a position at Carver Distilleries. 

“Fine. Mr. Harrington, give me one moment and I will call you back into my office. I just need to finish running something by my father. As for you—” His eyes darted back to your form. “—I will deal with you later.”

You exhaled a heavy sigh of relief as the blonde haired man sauntered back down the hall, leaving you to the comfort of your generally quiet front desk. Steve still lingered there, one hand curled around his phone, the other lifting the briefcase he held off his lap to set it in the seat beside him. You watched as he rose to his feet and dropped his phone within his pocket, gliding over to your desk with a small white card in hand. 

You didn’t need to read the words there to know what he’d slid across your desk. It was an instantaneous understanding, the knowledge of a new opportunity, of a way out from beneath the weight of the man who wanted nothing more than to rule with an iron fist and remind others that they were all beneath him. 

He glanced briefly down the hall to ensure no one was listening and leveled his gaze with yours, voice a quieted whisper as he said, “You work well under pressure. Carver is… well, Carver’s an ass. I can offer you more money, if you happen to be looking for another job. You could travel the world working for me instead of sitting behind this desk. Let me know.” 

Standing before Steve, you feel the questions swirling of the validity of the hope he’d placed inside of you. Had it been premature? He’d only seen one encounter between your prior manager and yourself. That was hardly enough to base a whole career off of, and yet his fingers tighten around the door handle all the same, ready to pull it forward and open you up to a world of newness beckoning you. 

Your sweaty palms slide down the sides of your tweed skirt, fabric rustling about your thighs as you step nearer to the door, hardening your resolve. 

It’s now or never, you suppose. 

“Remember,” Steve warns, just as you move to step inside the recording studio. “He means well. I should also warn that he can tend to be a little… flirtatious. But I would try and pay it no mind. You’re going to be great.”

The room inside is grandiose. Roof to floor wooden paneling shrouds everything in a honey warmth. There are a couple of couches near the far wall, one of which seemingly occupied, and a coffee table that sits in front of it. You catch the slow glug of a water dispenser in the distance, nearest to a coffee station in preparation of the long night that lies ahead of you all. To your right is an open closet, then further still a bathroom. The room itself is dim, lights adjusted for a cozier feel. Intimate and fitting for the tracks that are to be laid today. 

The same room, previously full of echoing laughter and vibrant conversation, fizzles into deafening silence as Steve leads you into the room, calling out, “Guys, there’s someone I'd like you to meet!” The announcement has every eye in the room darting your way, faces drawn tight to get a sight of the newest visitor. Only you’re not a visitor, because one of these men is about to be your new client. Steve turns to you then, hand lightly brushing your shoulder to nudge you forward as he says, “This right here is the new assistant, Y/N.”

A round of introductory greetings reach your ears, your voice full of certainty as you return them. “It’s great to finally meet you all.” However, you’ve yet to capture the elusive image of your client, as two of the band members stand closely together, obscuring him from your direct field of view.

Steve continues, “This is Gareth Parsons, drummer of Corroded Coffin.”

The first of the group steps forward. His shaggy head of brown hair flops as he moves, reaching forward with an extended hand in greeting. The warmth of his palm fills the space within your own, squeezing lightly. You feel a little bit of that boiling tension dissipate, the weight on your chest at the notion of a room full of new people unintentionally judging you lightening. 

His voice is kind, edged with humor as he says teasingly, “Nice to finally meet Eddie’s new babysitter.”

The next band member makes himself known. He has dark skin, dark hair and lovely brown eyes, full of a kindness that has your mind easing further. Those same comforting eyes flash quickly to his bandmate, a stern flicker of his warm gaze resting on Gareth’s, the latter of the two huffing from his nose.  

“Behave,” Jeff warns, voice a low murmur that has Gareth resigning to his defeat. That warm hand releases from your own and he steps back enough into the fold of the remaining members to allow Jeff to step forward. “The name’s Jeff. I’m on rhythm guitar and synth. It’s so nice to meet you.” He flashes you a white smile, and you can’t help the grin that blooms across your features at his easy acceptance of your presence. 

“Thank you,” you say, truly grateful that the first two introductions have thus far proceeded smoothly. “Both of you.”

Seemingly pleased with how things are processing, Steve clears his throat. “So that’s Jeff, who you’ve now met. And then you’ve got Harry, who would be the bassist of Corroded Coffin.”

Harry steps forward, his hulking frame shadowing your own, to shake your hand. You lock your hand within his and he opens his mouth to work over the words he’s going to say when a voice cuts through the silence. 

“The name is Harry Cox. And if you’re nice to him, maybe he’ll show it to you.”

“Eddie, fuckin’ really?” Jeff asks brusquely, whirling around in the Eddie Munson’s direction.

You’re not sure what to expect as the men shift and separate, bodies moving one by one to reveal the figure that’s so far remained hidden from your view. In theory, you’ve seen pictures of him. One would have to be living under a rock to not have come across a photograph of Eddie Munson somewhere. The infamous photo of the men standing around you, dated back to when they were teenagers, boyish frames huddled together in the halls of their high school before they had skyrocketed to fame at a trajectory no one ever anticipated; the clippings from not so flattering headlines showing his swift rise and downfall, leaving him on thin ice; the photos documenting his hasty nuptials to his actress wife. However, none of those compare to the intimidating figure that commands the presence of everyone around him as your hesitant eyes clash with his beneath the dark shroud of his sunglasses. 

Your eyes settle on the dark swath of ripped jeans over coltish limbs. Black material stretches tight over sinewy muscle, thighs splayed out in front of him, scuffed Doc Martens thrown carelessly against the cherry wood of the coffee table. Your eyes start the slow crawl upward, tracking along black shirt stretched over his broad chest, with an equally dark leather jacket hugging his biceps. His arms rest over the top of the couch, a confident sprawl of elongated limbs against plush cushions. His face is almost feline, predatory and intimidating, most of the upper portion of his face obscured by those aviator sunglasses. The parts you can see are striking: lengthy, wavy hair that falls to his shoulders, soft and feathery against the leather jacket; those long fingers adorned with silver rings pushed flush against knuckles, broad hands covered in intricate tattoos; the pale skin over high cheekbones, an indent on his cheek that hints at a dimple if he weren't looking your way in disdain; full lips, soft nose, and the slightest hint of shadow along his jaw. 

The Eddie Munson portrayed in the tabloids Angela had showed you over the years pales in comparison to the man that sits before you. This man oozes presence— owns this sort of magnetism that pulls the attention onto him in the center of the room with the mere sound of his voice. 

“And that would be Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin,” Steve explains, the arresting presence of the man sitting on the couch in front of you rooting you in place. 

Gareth coughs out a quiet, “Resident douche.” 

Jeff shoots him another scathing look. It’s enough of a distraction to draw your attention away from your new client, uneasy laughter welling up from you. Your stare drifts momentarily to Steve, his warm smile easing your tension, hand unfurling in front of him. The gesture has you faltering, understanding his intent is for you to make a proper introduction. 

You shuffle your way toward the man, disregarding the way he barely even acknowledges your presence within the room. He’s not once moved, back pressing further into the curve of couch cushions, eyes peering up over at you through the top of his sunglasses. Dark and depthless, an endless swirl of ink, devoid of any emotion that might give you insight into how he thinks this initial meeting is going. You hear it then in the vestiges of your mind. A soft howl, nearly imperceptible—the whisper of wind in the distance, echoing in your ears. A warning, an insinuation of something to come. Still, your hand stretches into the spaces between you, left to linger in the open air.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Munson.” Your voice remains firm— unwavering, despite the fact that he dismisses your hand.

Jeff scoffs from beside you, head shaking slightly as his foot comes to shove Eddie’s off of where they rest against the wooden surface. They hit the ground with a dull thud, though Eddie’s posture remains lax, facade unwavering. “She’s talking to you.”  

Eddie remains silent for a time, those dark eyes sliding up over the top of his sunglasses, voice hollow as he mutters, “You can call me ‘Sir.’” It’s innocent enough until the corners of his lips tug into a salacious smirk, fingers moving to push his sunglasses further up onto the bridge of his nose, head tipping upward a bit so he’s now level with your unrelenting stare. You worked with Jason long enough to understand this game, the ploy to see if you’ll break at the first sight of tension, and you’re not falling into that trap now. 

You take a step closer, hand hovering in air untouched, voice unyielding. “I’ll call you Mr. Munson, or Eddie. Take your pick.” 

Gareth chuckles at your left, but your eyes remain focused on Eddie in your battle of stares. Him, veiled through darkened lenses, and you in your refusal to grant him the satisfaction of looking away for even one moment and admitting defeat. You hear that soft howling again, a quiet whir in your ears, just as Steve claps his hands and a new man enters from the recording room, voice slicing the strained silence. “This right here is Argyle. He’s the producer and sound engineer working on this project. Today, the guys will be laying down the tracks for their latest album, so you’ll be here to take care of anything Eddie might need in the interim.” 

Your head turns, breath catching at the unexpected arms that loop around your shoulder, fingers reaching up to press against the hawaiian print on his shirt, those long strands of his dark hair smooth beneath your fingertips. He steps back to take you in, head bobbing animatedly as he says, “Nice to meet you, my dude—dudette. I’m the king of this music castle here. Can’t say I’ll be of much assistance, but if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.” His greeting concluded, Argyle meanders back over to his seat again, contentedly rocking the swivel chair back and forth with his feet.

There’s a sudden creak of leather that draws your attention; Steve runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the waves as his gaze darts from you to Eddie, who’s now rising from the couch. Eddie cracks his neck to the side, finally pulling off the aviators and dropping them haphazardly to the coffee table, where they skitter before meeting the magazine stack beside you. You push the top one back into place with the tip of your finger.

“Call me if you need me,” your boss says, one broad hand landing on Argyle’s shoulder, crinkling the Hawaiian print. “Good luck,” he mutters, patting him twice before moving toward the studio door.

You aren’t sure who Steve had been wishing luck to, but since his parting words don’t seem to phase the producer, you figure they must have been meant for you. 

The heavy door thumps closed after him, echoing through the silent room. You can feel almost everyone's eyes on you— the outlier, the new variable in this equation, the only one here who doesn't have a pre-existing role in the narrative. As your gaze darts from one man to another in the span of that brief silence, you see a variety of expressions: curiosity, pleasantness, neutrality. But only one expression truly matters, and of course, unfortunately, it’s the expression of the only man whose gaze is averted as if reluctant to acknowledge you.

You take a moment to study your client now that you can clearly see his face, and what you see does not fill you with confidence. Eddie Munson's eyes are large and brown and framed by long, soft lashes, but there is only hardness in his dark stare. The crinkled lines at their corners would be charming, but they're wrinkled in a critical squint, not with a smile. Instead, though his lips are plush and pink, they're twisted in a faint sneer as he gazes at the plexiglass of the recording room, decidedly away from you.

He means well, Steve had said. But you can't help but think that this man doesn't look like he means anything but ill will towards you, his new assistant. Despite the welcome from others around you, it's making those new-job jitters deepen.

In the middle of your examination, those dark eyes—very suddenly and unexpectedly— flick to yours.

It's an impact you couldn't have braced for. Instantly, a rush of prickling heat crawls up your spine as if Eddie is looking through you, past skin and bone and muscle, straight to your very center. It’s a look that pins you down, flays you open, leaving you entirely exposed in its disapproval.

Blessedly, because of the time you'd worked with Jason Carver, you have perfected your customer service poker face. There is no outward appearance of your inward reaction, aside from the dampening of your palms; smoothly, you run them down textured tweed in the guise of fixing wrinkles before clearing your throat lightly.

It does the trick. The room, which had been suspended in silence following Steve's departure, suddenly stirs as Argyle spins in the chair to face you all fully, folding his hands over his belly. “Well, all right, brochachos,” he says, nodding slowly, his long curtain of black hair swaying as he does. “You ready to record some shit?”

"Fuck yeah, dude," Gareth answers immediately, pushing up from his knees, an enthusiastic smirk splitting his face as he leads the way to the recording room. Harry follows next, his hulking form shuffling from behind the coffee table. He pauses before reaching you as if he's afraid to enter your space; you shift quickly, moving closer to the coffee table to make more room as he fits himself around you. 

"'Scuse me," he mumbles, and the gentle baritone of his voice coupled with the tiny tinge of pink on his cheeks makes you smile. 

"No, I'm sorry," you're quick to assure him, "I was in the way." 

He smiles shyly back as he passes by you, pausing by the recording room door to let Jeff enter first.

Distracted as you were by the exchange, you’re hit with a tiny spike of panic when you realize Eddie has begun to follow them, seemingly with no intention to address you again. It would leave you adrift with no direction— no inkling at all of what you can do to assist him, especially as Argyle already said he won't be much help— and that makes you act hastily. Impulsively.

Your body tilts forward, jerking after him, and your hand flutters out of its own accord, stopping just shy from making contact with his jacketed elbow. Eddie stops abruptly as his eyes dart to you; he squints as his gaze flicks down to your outstretched fingers. Your cheeks heat as you feel almost chastised, but you don’t let your embarrassment show. Instead, you let your hand drop, looking evenly into his dark brown eyes as you ask, “How can I best assist you right now, Mr. Munson? Is there anything in particular you'd like me to do?”

His stare sharpens, plush lips curving in the whisper of a smirk. “You a fan, sweetheart?” He asks, voice gritty with smoke and a quiet smugness as if he already knows the answer. 

You keep Steve’s words in your mind, his warning about Eddie’s potential flirtatiousness. The shift— from thinly-veiled disdain to this— is jarring, but you figure it's probably meant to throw you off. “Of you or of Corroded Coffin?” you ask, expression carefully schooled to neutrality. Eddie's smirk tightens at the corners, grows a little more defined, but you continue before he can respond. “If I’m honest,” you tell him, “I’m not really well-acquainted with your music.”

His brows jerk, and when his eyes scan down your body before returning to yours, they’re narrowed again. “Let me guess. You’re a TLC girl? A little Backstreet Boys groupie?” 

There’s a heavy shade of judgment in his voice that tells you he isn’t really interested in learning the answer, only in confirming for himself that your musical taste leaves much to be desired. You can't deny that the implication rankles you. You bristle at the thought that he presumes to know you when you've only just met, that he considers you lacking before you've given any reason for him to. The injustice of it makes you rush hot again, but not with nerves— with irritation. 

Still, you maintain that mask of professionalism. You don’t let it show. “No,” you reply evenly, meeting his gaze dead-on, unhesitant and unashamed to share your preferences. “More like Smashing Pumpkins. Hole, too.” You ignore how his expression suddenly glints with salaciousness. “Though I do also appreciate harder stuff. Like Alice in Chains, for example,” you add, following it up with a small, polite smile. And it's true— you do appreciate some metal, despite it not being your go-to. It's not as though you don't like Corroded Coffin's music on principle.

But this answer doesn’t seem to excite him. Instead, Eddie’s sharp gaze dulls slightly as you refuse to play into his game. “Right,” he says, expression easing for the first time. “Well then, I do have something you can do for me, sweetheart.”

Pet name aside, it's the most pleasant he's sounded so far, and you brighten, having expected him to put up more resistance. Maybe all you needed to do was show that you were truly here to help him. 

"Okay," you say, face expectant as you await his instruction.

Eddie’s lips twitch up into a tiny, crooked smile. “You see that door over there?” He flicks his finger lazily toward one of two narrow doors on the far wall, set into the wood paneling. You nod obediently, and he leans in, eyes wide and brows tugged up, pitching his voice low and soft like he’s coaching you through something secretive. “Well, inside, there’s a box. A box of all our recordings. Yeah?” 

He waits until you nod again, a little more hesitantly this time. “What you can do for me is go in that box and listen to everything inside. Every album, every EP, every demo. Even the shitty garage recordings. Even the b-sides.” He pauses, tipping his chin down. And though he doesn't raise his voice, its softness sharpens to granite. “Because I’ll be goddamned if my personal assistant doesn’t even know my music.” 

Your face was too eager for him not to notice the way it falls, and Eddie straightens, putting distance between you as he stuffs his hands in his back pockets, elbows jutting in satisfaction. That ghost of a smirk returns as he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, raising his chin and leveling you with one last look through his long, feathered lashes before he turns away.

His clear dismissal sinks into your chest, and you huff lightly through your nose, rushing with disappointment. Almost as if he can sense the crack in you, he whips back around abruptly; it startles you, and your spine straightens as you jerk to attention. “When we’re done recording, there’ll be a quiz,” he says, and the sharp smile on his face becomes a threat.

You can't help it— a bit of nervousness leaks through your expression then. That seems to finally please him, and Eddie releases you from his dark gaze as he, at last, joins his bandmates in the recording room. The sound of instruments tuning surges before the glass door thumps closed behind him, muffling to silence again.

Now left alone with your task assigned, you turn toward Argyle a little helplessly. He’s gazing at you with an absent smile on his face, still in the same position with his hands folded on his belly, seeming entirely unphased by the contentiousness of your new client. You exhale a quick breath, using it as a reset before asking him, “Can I get a pair of headphones and a Walkman or something?"

"Certainly, my little dudette." He points toward the same door Eddie had indicated. “There’s bound to be some somewhere in that closet.”

Lovely. You nod slowly, flashing a quick smile through pursed lips. “Thank you,” you say before turning and making your way over to help yourself.

The interior of the closet is lit by a single dangling lightbulb, and despite the polished fixings and thorough decor of the recording studio itself, this room is bare-bones in its furnishings. Metal shelving crowds the narrow walls, and the floor is plain poured concrete, barren compared to the plush rug in the lounge area. Your heels clack hollowly as you edge tentatively into the space, avoiding loose cords until you’re standing in the center of the tiny room, directly under the lightbulb. Your hands plant on your hips as you survey your surroundings: shelves and shelves of identical cardboard boxes, all unlabeled aside from an occasional errant number or acronym that means nothing to you, some stacked three high.

Of course.

It takes a good half an hour to finally uncover the correct box. Thankfully, though the labels on the outside are useless, the contents within are masking-taped with far more descriptive labels, written in a messy but still legible scrawl. When you open the box, seeing ‘CC’ on the top CD case feels promising, and a little shuffling reveals some hand-drawn album artwork complete with a coffin and bats that can't be for anyone other than Corroded Coffin. With the correct box secured, you pick your way back to the closet door, setting it down to begin your search for a Walkman, some headphones, and a tape player, since you’d seen a couple of loose cassettes in there, too.

You’re nothing if not thorough. No one can ever accuse you of not doing your job.

When you re-emerge from the closet, the recording room behind the plexiglass is not peaceful like you’d left it. It looks like a television set put on mute as you see Gareth’s hair whipping, Jeff’s shoulders swaying, Harry’s nose scrunched in a concentrated grimace, and Eddie’s lips hugging the mic, pink crawling up the base of his neck, its cords stretched tight with effort. You avert your eyes to Argyle, whose long straight curtain of ink-black hair sways with each bob of his head, his ears enveloped by an oversized pair of fancy headphones. Everyone seems to be moving in time with one another, rocking to a rhythm you can’t hear, and the utter silence in the room combined with those frenetic movements strikes you as comical as you carry your box and its contents over to the smaller couch, placing it on the cushion beside you.

As instructed, you dig out each CD and cassette, organizing them methodically in chronological order and choosing to begin with the oldest one. The faded marker on the front tells you it’s from 1986, and the marker’s haphazard scrawl matches the scrawl of sound that blares from the tape deck when you slip the headphones over your ears and depress the play button. The sound is tinny, echo-y as if it’d been recorded in someone’s garage. And you suppose it probably was. Judging by the year, you figure they were probably still in high school or not far from it when they recorded this.

The Corroded Coffin of 1986 is not particularly remarkable. The kick drum holding the beat isn’t quite precise enough, and the bass is somewhat sloppy. Not every transition is tight; sometimes a beat that should be synchronized is just a split second too soon or late, whether guitar-strum or cymbal-strike. But there’s an unmistakable energy to the sound— a fervor, an insistence that demands you pay attention. You can feel that pouring-out of teenage aggression through the growls and licks and chugging of the guitars, through the lyrics sung in that voice that, though it sounds higher and less smoky than the voice you’d heard from your client today, is still unmistakable Eddie. Corroded Coffin has something to say, and you can’t help but listen.

Your gaze drifts up to the plexiglass of the recording room. Your eyes see them as men, but your ears hear them as boys. And you can almost picture them in that garage, surrounded by brightly-striped lawn chairs and deflated pool floaties, youthful bodies jerking and swaying with no less enthusiasm than what you see before you now. When you think about it, it’s kind of touching to imagine them as young boys with nothing but a dream. Clearly, it took years of effort to become what they are now. You watch Eddie’s long-lashed eyes scrunch closed and his dark curls cling to the sides of his jaw with sweat, and a sense of wistfulness wells up inside you as you think of your client as that boy in the garage, a boy who didn’t know what he’d eventually make of himself.

You’ve only heard three songs before the play button pops up, signaling the end of the tape. Quickly, you move to the next two— more garage recordings, all short and sounding similar— before you’ve exhausted the cassettes and are ready to begin on the CDs. The first is marked as a demo from 1988, so you know it’ll likely be longer than what you’ve listened to thus far. You slip it into the player, settling back against the cushions as you begin, eyes wandering over the wood-paneled walls as you imagine Corroded Coffin recording it right here seven years ago.

It begins with the ticking of cymbals, the clatter of the snare, and the whine of a guitar. Much more polished than the garage recordings but so unmistakably eighties in its sound that you can’t help but feel your lips curl up in a little deprecating grin. Still, your foot bobs along, and you end up listening to half of it before your curiosity for more overwhelms you. You switch to their debut studio album, which is what that demo eventually became, and that same song— now track  begins the same way— the ticking of cymbals mixed with a snare’s clatter, but you recognize the difference immediately.

This— this— is Corroded Coffin.

Eddie’s voice is grittier and deeper, and the band is tighter, and the addition of those grinding metallic sounds and the electronic synth parts, which have clearly evolved past that stereotypical pop-eighties style, create something truly special. You’d been truthful before when you told Eddie that you hadn’t listened to much of his music, but now that you are, you find it genuinely enjoyable. 

Time passes. Argyle’s head bobs, the guys grow sweatier, and your foot steadily bobs until Pretty Hate Machine concludes. And you should move on to the next EP, but you instead find yourself skipping back, back, back until the disc whirls in a blur of muted blue and pink and the first track starts again. You close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in it until a muffled commotion of voices and thumps rouses you. It’s the guys exiting the recording room, chests heaving, shirts tacky against their chests, looking tired but pleased as they converge on Argyle in a tight circle. You watch their faces light up with smiles and eager chatter, smiling yourself as they seem all of a sudden more boyish for it. Even Eddie, whose visage was once marred with disdain for you, is grinning toothily; as the joy turns his dark eyes amber, you feel a tiny pang low in your stomach at the sight. 

Nuh-uh. None of that. 

It fades quickly under your quick dismissal, smothered by a reminder of the pride you take in your professionalism. He’s objectively attractive, sure. But he’s still your client, and nothing would change that.

Before long, the group around Argyle disperses. Gareth and Jeff wander towards the couches while Harry stops at the water cooler, gulping down two fills of the plastic cup dwarfed by his meaty hands. You quickly move the cardboard box beside you to the floor and pull the headphones from your ears as you watch Eddie divert from the path, heading back into the recording room without his bandmates.

“What’s he doing?” you ask Gareth as he flops down, sagging against the arm of the large couch across from you. He shakes his damp bangs out of his eyes, flicking sweat that narrowly misses you before he replies.

“He’s laying down the rest of the synth parts for the most recent track. We have to record it separately.” His lips tilt in a grin as he adds playfully, “Ed might be talented, but even he can’t sing and strum and play keys at the same time.”

You find your interest piqued as Eddie folds himself onto the bench behind the keyboard. “He doesn’t need a break?” You watch as he stretches his back with a grimace before shaking out his hands, ruddy fingers turning to a blur. 

Jeff just huffs out of his nose, drawing your gaze. His dark skin is shiny with the evidence of his exertion. “Oh, he needs a break,” he says, exasperated though his eyes are fond. “He just won’t take one.” 

“Yep,” Gareth adds, “He’s a stubborn bastard. Won’t stop ‘til it’s done.” Gareth and Jeff each accept a tiny plastic cup from Harry gratefully, and you shuffle closer to the couche’s arm to make room for him next to you. You tilt toward him as he sinks down carefully beside you, but it doesn’t draw your eyes. They’re stuck on Eddie, on the look on his face as he nods at Argyle: focused, as if his fatigue is nothing to him but an insect to be flicked away. Argyle nods back, tapping a button on the complex board of switches and sliders in front of him. As Eddie’s head begins to bob, you realize what they just recorded must be playing in that plexiglass box, silenced from your ears.

Before you can overthink it, you rise from the couch, the muffled thumps of your heels shifting from thick, plush rug to clack against wood. As you come up next to Argyle, he remains gazing evenly ahead, eyes never wavering as his head bobs in time with Eddie’s. You’re considering whether or not to interrupt him when, without looking at you, he asks mildly, “What can I do for you, brochacha?”

“Are you able to play it out loud?” 

Argyle glances at you then. “Alright,” he drawls, stretching out the word as if impressed. “You wanna hear the bitchin’ beats? Certainly.” 

And with the push of a button, the once-silent studio fills with sound. 

It’s a perfect marriage of grit and polish, evoking both the garage recordings and their first album in the best way. The distortion on the vocals makes Eddie’s voice sound even more imposing than it was in person when you first met him, and you watch his shoulders rock, brow scrunched tight. “This world rejects me. This world threw me away. This world never gave me a chance; this world’s gonna have to pay.” Eddie’s voice projects over the speakers, though his plush lips are motionless now. With such ease you almost don’t notice them, his fingers begin to dance over the keys, adding a subtle electronic melody beneath the drums and grating synth. 

You can feel the tension of the song— the building of something carnal, something furious brewing beneath the surface, threatening to whip your hair back from your cheeks. Its energy builds and builds as Eddie’s voice goes almost breathy underneath the effects, singing, “Something inside of me. It screams the loudest sound. Sometimes I think I could…”

You sense it’s coming, and yet you’re not prepared for it when Eddie’s voice becomes practically a howl: “I’m gonna burn this whole world down!”

The guitars, the drums, the bass and synth— they all explode out in a whirlwind of thrashing sound and driving noise as Eddie’s body rocks, fingertips turning white as he forces sound from the keys. His teeth are grit, his face is pouring sweat, and the sight of it speaks to one thing: determination. 

You can’t help but admire that.

You don’t even notice that your head’s been bobbing along to the beat until it ceases, and as you grow still, it whips to the guys at the couch. This song is better than almost all their others. If the rest of the album is like this… Your eyes sparkle with the force of your excitement as you beam at them, and in their pleased smiles and behind their eyes, you can see it: pride and confidence, knowledge that this album they’re creating is going to become something big.

That feeling is effusive, bubbling in your blood as the door to the recording room opens and Eddie emerges. His curly bangs are plastered to his forehead, his eyes are ringed by dark circles and his lips sag in fatigue. Yet despite it, from within, he’s positively glowing.  

Caught up in the moment, all you can do is blurt, “Holy shit.” You blink dazedly at Eddie for a moment as his face goes slack, and then he tosses his head back and laughs. 

Eddie’s laugh is husky and wild, unrestrained in his amusement. Utterly unfiltered. He laughs as if you’ve told the funniest joke he’s ever heard, and it’s then you realize this is your first day on the job, and you’ve just cursed in front of your client. 

Your face fills with heat, cheeks burning as you stutter, “Mr. Munson, I’m so sorry, that was entirely inappropriate—”

Eddie snorts, waving you off, looking not only unbothered but positively tickled that you’d cursed in front of him. To give yourself a moment to recover, you spin, clacking toward the water cooler to fill up one of those little plastic cups like you’d seen Harry doing earlier. You stammer past your indiscretion, and as you focus on expressing yourself, you feel the burn in your cheeks begin to recede. “I shouldn’t have forgotten myself like that. But that song was just… I mean, seriously. It was like… like a return to your roots or something, but not just that.” You pass him the cup carefully, falling back onto your hip as you cross your arms and your eyes dart to the ceiling. You’re trying to put it into words, and you feel frustrated that you’re struggling to. “Okay. It sounded like those early garage recordings where everything was just raw. It’s gritty and angry and cathartic. But it also feels so… new. Like compared to your last album, but also compared to what other bands are doing right now. You know?”

It doesn’t seem entirely adequate, but that’s all you’ve got— all you can do to express that almost intangible quality that you felt but can’t describe. You finally let your chin drop to meet Eddie’s eyes and are surprised to see them no longer dark and shuttered or squinty with mirth. Eddie’s eyes are wide and bright, amber like sun shining through whiskey as they stare unwaveringly into yours.

"Yeah, you picked up on that?” For once, there isn’t a sharp edge to his voice; in fact, he sounds almost pleased. “With this album we're experimenting with something a little different, really trying to focus on the textures and moods. Trying to find ways to create sound that’s not music. Not in a traditional sense, at least.” 

You nod eagerly, caught up by the enthusiasm in his voice. “Yeah! That’s it. I don’t listen to metal much, but it just doesn’t sound like what you typically hear nowadays.”

Eddie crosses his arms, holding his elbows as his tongue plays against the inside of his cheek. “You’re right,” he concedes, so easily that it comes as a surprise. “In a way, we are going back to our roots; all the way back to being the freaks who don’t want to be packaged up in some neat box. Especially seeing where this industry is going. Like, I’m watching bands that got me through the hellscape of high school crumbling and folding to the pressure. I mean, fuck.” A whip of sweat-damp curls as he shakes his head, his gaze heating with molten passion, pinning you so intently that you couldn’t look away if you tried. “Do you realize the irony of a genre that prides itself on being anti-establishment becoming part of the establishment?”

“Fuckin’ bullshit, man,” Gareth pipes up from the couch, and Eddie’s arm flies out, an eager finger shaking in his direction as his eyes go wide and almost wild.

“Fuck-ing bullshit,” Eddie enunciates, and as his voice roughens, he almost seems to puff up with the strength of his ranting. “Look, I do get it. They’re not the first to end up caught in the wheel; happens before you even realize it. But you know what you’re left with at the end of the day? Jack fucking squat. And we’re just as angry and powerless as we were as kids.” He jams two ruddy fingertips against his open palm, brows raised in emphasis as if willing you to understand. “This— this music was our escape back then. And it’s going to be our escape now. And I don’t give a fuck what anyone says about it.” 

He’s nearly craning over you now, breath hot as it puffs against your face, face drawn tight with his fervor. But you aren’t afraid. Because though he’s nearly yelling, Eddie’s ire isn’t directed at you. Your expression doesn’t harden up or crumble under the weight of his passion; instead, you accept it, letting it whip against you without faltering. 

Your steadfastness seems to temper him as the tension in his face eases slightly, though he doesn’t back away. More quietly, he says, “All they want is the next sound-bite, the next commercial success. Sorry, Arg,” he throws a glance toward his producer, “but I honestly don’t give a shit whether there’s even one song on this album that would be a successful single. It’s not meant to be consumed that way— picked apart like fuckin’ buzzards on a corpse.” 

Eddie’s amber eyes hold you as he breathes, “This album is raw. It’s ugly, and it’s personal—”

His words choke in his throat, and for a moment, there’s something tentative connecting you, drawn thin between your gazes. Something fragile but nearly tangible, like the foam of the sea that bubbles against sand but melts to nothing if you reach for it.

But then Eddie blinks, and the connection is severed as he seems to realize he’s talking to you: his personal assistant. 

His glorified babysitter. 

All at once, the passion is gone. He flattens, taking a step back. And there is no preamble to the sudden switch in his demeanor as he demands, “Where’s our dinner?”

the next chapter will be released on @abibliophobiaa's blog!

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