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#eddie munson slow burn
caxde · 11 days
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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader
summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)
warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3
It was warm outside. 
Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping. 
You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer. 
You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve. 
You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door. 
You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could. 
“Hi.” 
It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes. 
“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out. 
She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded. 
“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her. 
You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun. 
“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you. 
“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you. 
“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers. 
But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty. 
pretty, pretty, pretty. 
Your cheeks become warmer, pinker. 
As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said. 
He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms. 
He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips. 
You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him. 
“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner. 
“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider. 
If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close. 
He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet. 
He wasn’t used to this though. 
A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom. 
“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms. 
Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment. 
The thought made him smile to himself.
“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction. 
He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile. 
Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him. 
But you didn’t. 
Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met. 
“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean. 
“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours. 
“That’s us.” 
“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple. 
“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…” 
He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back. 
You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened. 
You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind. 
It felt as if you were finally on the right path. 
-
“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window. 
She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon. 
“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa. 
He could scream out of excitement once she finally did. 
“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door. 
She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you. 
Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him. 
“Once I get back from work, deal?” 
Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up. 
He enjoyed this little moment. 
Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of. 
Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment. 
“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her. 
“She did.” 
“Who?” 
“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window. 
“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning. 
“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard. 
“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy. 
“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you. 
“Okay bug, see you in a bit?” 
“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss. 
“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him. 
“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded. 
And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home. 
You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally. 
“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him. 
He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up. 
“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets. 
“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in. 
“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up. 
“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-” 
“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?” 
Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing. 
While you had to try hard to hide your excitement. 
“You don’t have to…” 
“Shut up. She deserves it.” 
Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse. 
“What time were you thinking?” 
“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…” 
“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.” 
He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway. 
“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush. 
“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.” 
He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot. 
-
You might have gone a bit overboard. 
You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe. 
The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one. 
Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics. 
You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control. 
Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing. 
A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began. 
“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready. 
Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to. 
Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard. 
“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think. 
“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad. 
Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her. 
He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough. 
Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around. 
Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette  tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways. 
“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing. 
“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no. 
“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music. 
The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.
“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely. 
He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was. 
“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.” 
“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?” 
“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response. 
“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning. 
“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you. 
“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach. 
“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them. 
-
You were on the couch. 
Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really. 
You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily. 
Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good. 
He didn’t really know you. 
Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet. 
Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough. 
It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there. 
Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while. 
You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much. 
While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much. 
You didn’t care. Not at all. 
Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.
-
part 2 is up!
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bvtbxtch · 10 months
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Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x fem!reader (Prologue)
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Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N
Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.
Word count: ~4.7k
A/N: this story is the weird brainchild of me getting a little inebriated and remembering how my divorced parents met and I was inspired. This is my first fic ever and I know it is NOT GOOD, but feedback is always appreciated. This is just the prologue to set up some context for our characters. I have a rough plan as to where this story is going to go but I am so open to suggestions!! Thanks for reading y'all.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
September 1985
Chrissy Cunningham was always perfect. And it was even more annoying because she was pretty, popular and nice to everyone she made eye contact with. That is also why you had been best friends since junior high when you both joined the dance team. When high school hit, she projected herself into the popular group by revolving your high school experience around cheerleading and the popular girls, where you happily sacrificed some of your valuable reputation to pursue both cheer and drama club. Chrissy was always there even though you were seen as less desirable as the other girls on the team. Even if she was in the back row, she would always be at your productions and would happily cheer you on. 
Although she was your best friend, she scared you a lot. She was on the path to a scholarship to her dream school, to getting scooped up by some picture perfect person and getting married and having her dream job. She would stay hot and pretty and perfect forever and as you were approaching graduation, you often worried about what was next for you - terrified of peaking in high school and amounting to nothing. Worried about not finding your own group of people, your own scholarship, and your own path laid out neatly like Chrissy’s was.
Eddie Munson, however,  was the opposite of perfect. If Chrissy was a sparkling smooth personality, Eddie was a jagged edge that very few people appreciated. He was a repeat senior who dealt drugs to all of Hawkins’ youth and  was unapologetically apathetic to the restraints that were supposedly placed on the senior class of ‘86. So when he happily worked sound for the drama club in exchange for free rentals for his DND club, many drama kids turned their noses up at him; except for you. You happily sat next to him at your first drama club meeting. There was something magnetic about him. From that first time you met him, you were determined to get to know him better. Your intuitions told you that he was going to be more than a background character in your own story. 
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Two friends from opposite circles, opposite ends of the spectrum. As you and Chrissy left the gym fussing over new uniforms and team drama, Eddie was on the other side of the school picking his lunch kit out of the garbage, nursing a new black eye; and a freshman on his left pacing a rut into the hallway.
“Last time I stick up for you, Henderson. I swear to god…you’re lucky I have extra shirts in the drama storage.” The metalhead mumbled. His dark curls pulled back into a low bun as he dug further into the garbage can. 
“How was I supposed to know that it was Jason behind me? I didn’t mean to fall into him!” Dustin pouted. Eddie had picked him off the floor after Jason Carver had poured his gatorade down his Hellfire shirt. Eddie would never admit it, but as much as he loved his precious club, he cared for his freshmen recruits more. Jason, being the captain of the basketball team, and therefore the resident asshole, gave Eddie the shiner for his troubles, and threw his stuff in the garbage as an extra favor. You rounded the corner with Chrissy as you saw the two boys, both looking worse for wear. 
“Hey Ed - Oh my god your face!” You gasped as he turned around after finally fishing his lunch kit out of the trash.
“You should see the other guy” Eddie chuckled, and winced
“What other guy?” When he does not respond to your question you turn to the freshman who looks like he has seen a ghost. 
“J-Jason Carver. Eddie was just trying to save my ass.” Dustin squeaked, his eyes glued to his sneakers.
“Come with me”. You grab his hand and lead him to the girls locker room. Chrissy hot on your trails. 
After investigating to ensure no one else was in the changeroom, you lock the door and sit Eddie down on a bench while you enter the small infirmary to retrieve the first aid kit. Chrissy keeps her distance, but sits down beside him and flashes him a polite smile. Eddie feels a pang in his heart as he feels his cheeks start to burn red. Chrissy lets out a small giggle.
“That’s really brave what you did for that kid” Chrissy praised. 
“Ahh, there is no way Henderson would be able to take on that meathead. I gotta take care of my minions.” 
Chrissy laughs again, almost too loud. As you pace back to the two of them, you feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and both of them look away, blushing furiously. You take a long sigh as you open the first aid kit to find the ice pack and a bandaid for the small cut that has formed on Eddie’s cheekbone. He winces while you stick the bandaid on and you gently place the ice pack over his eye. His brown eyes glued to Chrissy’s as you tended to him. Once you finished, you cleaned up and the three of you returned to the bustling hallways of Hawkins High.
“Thanks for the help sweetheart. I just wish this was a spiderman bandage or something.” Sweetheart.
“Don’t sweat it Eddie. I’ll see you in rehearsal later” you smiled. Chrissy eyed Eddie up and down as you said your goodbyes and Eddie turned around to go to his next class. 
“I never realized how much of a charmer Eddie Munson is,” Chrissy pondered. You felt a pit in your stomach. As much as you loved Chrissy, Eddie was your friend first. So many of your teammates had put Chrissy as a priority over you, and you always felt like a drifter between drama and cheer - seeing as you felt you didn’t totally feel like you belonged in either.. Eddie was finally a person that you thought was yours, something that Chrissy couldn’t influence, someone that finally didn’t care about your background or where you fit on the food chain. But, lo and behold, it seems that everyone falls under the high school spell and everything always seems to be too good to be true for you.
“Yeah, he’s a cool guy I guess. He does the sound for the drama club apparently he’s got a knack for music. Walked into him playing some Black Sabbath on the guitar in the drama room.” You tried to retort calmly, but your hands were trembling. 
“Black Sabb -?Hmph. I think that is going to give me yet another reason to go to the drama room… Since he seems to be good with his hands” Chrissy giggled and intertwined her arm with yours, leading you to your shared math class. 
“Chris, please don’t just play with this one, I do really like him. I think he could be a really good friend.” Friend.
“That’s totally fine! Nothing’s gonna happen. I guess I just realized how cute he was…Maybe I should ask him to come watch us at the next game, or hang out…afterwards” Chrissy winks at you
“You’d be better off setting up a deal with him” you poke. She giggles as you both take your seats. 
You could barely focus in math, mind racing about how much Chrissy and Eddie bothered you. Was it really just the idea of him and Chrissy being better friends than you? Or were you jealous? That’s ridiculous because you liked Eddie as a friend. Just a friend. Chrissy could go out with Eddie all she wants. You aren’t the boss of her - or him for that matter. Then why are you stuck on the way your heart fluttered when he called you sweetheart? Why were you constantly seeking him out in the hallways?
No. It can’t be. You’re just friends. 
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October 1985
Your body was radiating with anxiety during afternoon rehearsals.The pit in your stomach had grown to a full ache in your chest whenever you heard Chrissy talk about Eddie. The more you taked with him, the more you wanted to reach out and touch him, to hug him and tell him that he was the greatest, most interesting person you had ever met. But again, everything seems way too good to be true because every time you hung out with Eddie, Chrissy seemed to make her way into conversation.
 Eddie was teaching a freshman how to use the new sound board and you could barely get out your lines. All you could think about is Eddie and Chrissy in the locker room. Your performances were so uninspired that Mr. Taylor ended your scene rehearsals early. Your scene partner Eric gave you an apologetic pat as you both reunited with the rest of the drama club. Eddie sauntered up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. 
“How’s it going superstar?” He leaned his chin on the top of your head.
“Hey Eddie. I’m okay, trouble focusing today. I’m totally flubbing today.”
“Hey, so I had a question for you… about Chrissy”. You tensed up and broke away from him. You turned to face him but could not look him in the eyes.
“Umm, yeah what’s up?” There comes that ache you knew all too well. You could see it happening now, him finally choosing her over you. 
“Is she single? What’s the deal? Is she dating any basket boys I should be worried about?” He poked at you nervously. You tried to let a laugh escape to ease the tension but all that came out was an exasperated wince. 
“No, she’s single.. Do what you want Ed.” you mumbled. You could feel the tears threatening to well up. You brush past him and pick up your bag to head to the gym. Eddie’s eyes follow you out, but he couldn’t bring himself to go after you. What was your deal?
You trudged off the field after an exasperating practice after an exhausting rehearsal. You were so excited to leave this day in the past, grab some junk from the supermarket with Chrissy and hunker in for an evening of studying. In the locker room, Sarah and Tiffany giggle and look at you and Chrissy. 
“Hey Chris, we were wondering if you wanted to come to the mall with us right now. We were going to pick up some outfits for Halloween!” Tiffany briefly meets your gaze and looks back to Chrissy. 
“Yeah sure!” the blonde chirped “We would love to! Y/N and I were just going to-”
“Oh, well we only have room for one..” Sarah sneered. Chrissy looks at you with her beautiful brows furrowed into a perfect pout. You knew she wanted to go with them. You felt bad for making Chrissy sacrifice her social standing to hang out with you. You knew she wanted to go, but would never tell you. You decided to take the fall for her… the undesired yet again.
“Yeah, that’s fine, I got lots of homework to do anyways” you brushed off. “I’ll call you later Chris.”
“I’ll come over after!” Chrissy lazily offered as you packed your bag up and left the locker room.
You left with holes in your heart. All you wanted was your people to stay yours. You didn’t understand why that was so difficult.
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The shrill ring of your landline woke you from your desk - having fallen asleep while finishing homework. You flopped onto your bed and picked up the phone.
“Hello?” You yawned.
“Babe, I have to tell you about my evening!!” Chrissy squealed, she barely let you greet her.
“Oh, you mean the evening you were supposed to spend with me studying?” you jabbed. You felt bad for taking your insecurities out on Chrissy, but you couldn’t help it. 
“Oh come on now. This will make up for it.”
“Alright get on with it then.” You rolled your eyes and rolled on to your back.
“So you will never believe who me, Tiffany and Sarah ran into at the mall!”
“Ummm… John Cusak” You joked dryly. 
“No you silly! Eddie!” Chrissy yelped. “And do I have news for you!!”
You jolted up and immediately gave the call your full attention. This could not end well - either for Eddie or you.
“Sarah and Tiffany let you talk to Eddie in public?” you snorted. The insecurity seeping through the receiver.
“Well, kind of. We joked that the party next week would be best with something other than just the alcohol if you know what I mean” you could practically hear Chrissy’s eyebrows wagging. “So they dared me to go set up a deal with him… and I could see him practically drooling over me! I think he might like me, babe. And I think that I really like the fact that he does” she giggles maliciously. Attention. As kind and beautiful as Chrissy was, she was used to the attention, she thrived off of it. It worried you, the fact that there were hordes of guys that had been left in her wake so she could have an ego boost or something to do on a Friday night. 
“Chris, are you sure that’s, like, a good idea? What if you really hurt him?”
“Oh come on, Y/N, its just a bit of fun. Nothing serious! So anyways, I went over to his trailer about an hour ago and he asked for my number! Ugh!” Your excitement wasn’t reciprocated like Chrissy had hoped. Her squeals being the only ones that echoed between the two of you.
“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you excited?” Chrissy questioned. 
“I just - you’re both my friends, I just don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“Ugh you worry way too much. It’s just some harmless fun! Loosen up, maybe then you could get some dates yourself!” she chided. You knew she was joking but it was the last blow to your breaking heart “ Anyways, I gotta get off the line just in case he tries to call! Love you!” with that you hear a click and the dead line. You sigh as you put your phone back on the receiver and flop back down onto your pillows.
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You always hated halloween. It was an excuse for anyone your age to dress up in some sort of sexy reiteration of some sort of animal or cartoon character and to get sloppy drunk in someone’s trashed house, unbeknownst to their absent parents. That is exactly where you found yourself; Chrissy on one side of the couch, Tiffany on the other, you smooshed in the middle (as per Chrissy’s request)  and half of the basketball and cheer team sat in a messy circle on the floor. How you got yourself roped into spin the bottle, you would never know, but your makeshift devil horns were giving you a headache and as much as you loathed blacking out in random people’s houses, you were nursing your fourth drink of the night (and were definitely feeling the buzz). Between the noise of people talking over each other, the blaring music, and Chrissy constantly blabbing about how much time she and Eddie have been spending together, you felt like your brain was going to explode. The only option that you really saw for the evening was to forget all about it like half of the Hawkins High population at the party. 
Jason grabbed the empty bottle in the middle of the circle and spun it with vigor. Everyone waited in anticipation to see who would be the lucky girl to get to kiss the king of Hawkins high. The room fell hushed as you looked at the bottle, which was pointing directly at you. You immediately felt like you were going to throw up. Since that day in the hallway with Eddie, you always held some animosity for Jason. The last thing you wanted to do was kiss the guy who went after one of your other best friends. Jason chuckled and elbowed his minions on either side of him, all of them snickering deviously. He stood from his spot and stalked across the circle towards you. You chuckled nervously and went to get out of your spot on the couch. 
“Hah, don’t mean to kill the vibe, but suddenly I don’t really feel like playing anymore.” You push yourself off the couch and go to step over some people sitting on the floor but Jason grabbed your wrist. Hard. You felt the world spinning around you, unsure if it was your sudden anxiety, or the alcohol. You could hear the faint whispers of Chrissy and Tiffany behind you, and you were suddenly aware of the 20 pairs of eyes locked on you. You tried to pull away from him with no avail.
“Come on, don’t be a prude. Let me give you the best kiss of your life, seeing as the only person you’ve boned is the freak” He pulled you into his chest and held your face in his hands. He pressed his mouth to yours, trying to weasel his tongue inside your pressed lips. You finally got the strength to push him away with a cry in disgust. You wanted to slap him but your bones now felt like jello and your feet cemented to the floor.
“She hasn’t boned the freak! She hasn’t boned anyone!” Chrissy laughed, not realizing that her retort did more harm than good. You wished the ground would swallow you whole. Finally, you muster your strength to move. You didn’t want any of these assholes to see you cry, to give them the satisfaction.
“Thanks, Chris” you whisper before running out of the room and up the stairs to the crowded living room. You were desperate for some air. Everything around you felt like it was constricting you, choking you. All you could hear was laughter and your vision felt like it was pinholing. You slide out of the front door to sit on the steps. You breathe deeply, looking around to make sure that there was no one around before you let your tears fall.
Chrissy made an attempt to go after you. After rolling her eyes and giving Tiffany a tight smile, she lifter herself off of the couch and pranced up the stairs to the rest of the party. She looked around the scatterings of people, but didn’t see you. She slid her way through the hallway into the kitchen, where her eyes found someone else she had been casually looking for all evening. She stumbled towards a mop of chocolate curls and wrapped her arms around him, hands covering his eyes.
“Guess who?” she slurred. 
“Hey pretty girl.” Eddie turned to her to give her a proper embrace but quickly took a step back. “Don’t know if you want to be seen doing that to me right now” he chuckled nervously. Eddie understood what being seen with him meant and as little as he cared for his own reputation, he cared greatly for hers
. Chrissy looked him up and down and fully realized the metal head’s beauty. Pale skin kissed with dark ink, beautiful brown eyes that shone - especially when he talked to her, lean figure and crooked smile. She felt like her brain was going to short circuit.
“You’re right” Chrissy cooed. “Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private so we could talk” She took his hand and led him up the stairs to a quiet hallway full of closed doors. They rounded a corner and they sank down the wall to sit on the floor, Chrissy totally forgetting about her mission to find you and Eddie being blissfully ignorant to your conundrum.
You had collected yourself and knew there was no way you could stay at the party. As much as you loathed going back into the chaos and as angry as you were at Chrissy, you couldn’t allow yourself without letting her know that you were leaving and how angry you were. When reentered the house, the first faces you were met with were Jason and his posse of meatheads. You averted your gaze but heard their snickers anyway. You refused to give him the satisfaction or the tears, so you kept moving, keeping your eyes glued to the linoleum. The tightness of your chest multiplied with the number of rooms you checked where you did not see a perky blonde ponytail. You needed to find Chrissy; you needed to give her a piece of your mind; you needed to leave. But everything was deafening. Things were getting fuzzy.  Determined to get a grip and find your friend, you trot up to the top floor of the house, in search of a quiet place to collect yourself. You were met with a long hallway full of closed doors. You continue down the hallway, checking doors to see if you could find a bathroom. When you round the corner of the dim upstairs, your breath gets caught in your throat.  You see Eddie sitting on the floor, Chrissy in his lap, their mouths messily mashed together. Everything came tumbling down. The combination of alcohol and shock makes you wrack out a gasp of air. Both Eddie and Chrissy looked up but with very different expressions. Chrissy looked almost proud of her conquest, ignorant to the hurt you were already feeling towards her. Eddie, on the other hand, looked mortified - turning a bright red. The look of betrayal was clear across your own face as tears threatened to fall again. 
“Im - I’m going to go.” you don’t wait for either of them to get up. Eddie pushes Chrissy to her feet and gets up to go after you. Chrissy grabs his arm
“Eddie, wait!”
“Chrissy, I am so incredibly sorry, but I need to go make sure she’s okay” He goes to move away from her but she stops him again and pulls him in for a chaste kiss.
“Please don’t let this be the last time we do this” she whispers into his ear and drops his hand. Eddie turns a bright pink and leaves her with a smile.
You trudge through the house, tunnel vision honing in on the front door. The urge to vomit increased tenfold. Eddie catches up to you. You hear him calling out for you but you can’t turn back. Too embarrassed and heart broken (and drunk) to be able to handle what you saw in an unfamiliar place, in front of strangers nonetheless. You swung open the front door and ran down the front steps. Eddie trudges after you, clearly upset about what you had seen. There was no way he was going to let this get between the two of you. 
“Y/N Wait” He sounds desperate. You turn to him and roll your eyes. 
“What? Is it not what it looks like?” you laugh dryly. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, I’m going home.” You turn to leave. You couldn’t take another person pitying you. You understood where you were on the food chain. Yet another person to think of you as second best to Chrissy.
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t walk by yourself this late at night.” Eddie chides. The alcohol had finally given you the bravery you had been needing for the past hour. 
“Don’t do that. Don’t sweetheart me when you are literally going to go back inside and suck face with my best friend. Just - go. Enjoy the rest of your night Eddie. I’ll be just fine.” The tears freely falling down your cheeks didn’t convince him. He takes a step towards you but you turn to walk away,
“Why are you so angry with me about Chrissy? I thought I didn’t need to explain anything to you, but you seem really fucking mad at me”. Eddie’s words stop you dead in your tracks. He’s angry? With you? Instead of actual vomit, the words that come out of your mouth leave uncontrollably.
“She doesn’t like you Eddie. She likes the attention. She doesn’t like you like I do. She doesn’t care about you like you deserve to be cared about. And she likes the fact that I care about you way too much. Chrissy has to have everything. I can’t have anything to myself, but yet again no one gives a shit about me, about how I feel. How much I care because as long as Chrissy is there, she will always be number one. You are just  another conquest for her and ,and she is just using you” You stand your ground, chest heaving. There is a sense of relief that you stood your ground but you immediately knew you said to much.
“E-Eddie, wair-”
“You think that I don’t know that she’s using me?”
“What?”
“Look, Y/N I am really really sorry that you care about me and I am really sorry that you feel that way about Chrissy. But I really like her. So I’m cool if she thinks that she wants to have some fun for now. I’ll let her as long as she’ll have me. Just -  please stop caring about me, sweetheart. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I want to be your friend but, fuck -I might be in love with Chrissy. I think I have been for a long time, but just finally let myself feel it..”
You stood in shock. Your heart shattered to a million pieces. Eddie’s did too. He loved having you as a friend and he loved having you in his life, but he couldn’t imagine kissing you like he did Chrissy, taking you on dates like he wanted to with Chrissy, going to prom like he wished he would with Chrissy. Not you. 
“Forget we ever had this conversation”. You turned on your heels and walked away. Hoping that Eddie would stop you and tell you that this was all a joke, that you were worth it, that you were his favorite and that he felt the same way about you. And even though being Chrissy’s friend was draining a lot of the time, you did  always have her. But everything changed in one night. This is the first night that you have ever felt completely  alone. You crossed your arms over your torso and started your walk home.
The next days and weeks went on as normal. Eddie seemingly didn’t tell Chrissy about your conversation because the phone calls never ceased. She still met you by your locker and she still intertwined her arm with yours when you walked. Eddie's gaze was aimed more at Chrissy and nights where you and Eddie normally hung out were now filled with secret rendezvous with the blonde. Although he still acted like your old Eddie, you felt a coldness from him. His smile never seemed genuinely happy and his eyes stopped glowing when he saw you. You kept quiet in efforts not to lose your only true friends at the school, but your shattered heart was refractured after every phone call you got from Chrissy, every detail you heard about their meetups or how soft his hands were or how great his kisses were.. You felt like you were crashing and burning but you kept up your facade to ensure you could salvage your fractured friendship, and every time you hung up your phone, you curled into your pillow and cried because although things were seemingly as they were supposed to be, you had never felt so out of place and isolated in your life.
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You were waiting for Chrissy to come over, books sprawled across your kitchen table in anticipation for your study session for your semester finals. She was over an hour late.You sighed as you pulled out your flashcards and started to review in an attempt to salvage the time you had already wasted. You were interrupted by your phone ringing. 
“Hello?”
“Babe oh my god I am so sorry I am running behind but you are never going to guess what happened!!” 
“What’s that Chris?”
“Eddie Asked me to be his girlfriend!!”
Part 1 when?
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lonelysatellites · 1 year
Text
The Sweetness
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Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
𑁍 Eddie Munson was innocent. He’d been cleared, vindicated, but never really freed. He still wears the scars of ‘86, physical and emotional, and moving on from his past feels almost impossible. When someone new moves in next door, fleeing from her own troubled history, will Eddie find solace in someone just as scarred as himself? 𑁍
Series warnings: 18+ minors dni, eventual smut, angst, mentions of injury, body image issues, physical and emotional abuse, drug and alcohol use
Chapter warnings: smoking, alcohol use, mention of vomiting, mentions of injury, swearing. 4.7k
A/N: I’m so nervous to post this, my first proper slow burn! Just a heads up this is set in 1992, all of the events of S4 still took place (but for the sake of making things a little easier we’re going to assume that the trailer park was never destroyed by the ‘earthquake’). Eddie is a virgin (poor little touch starved baby) and to try to keep the use of Y/N to a minimum, Reader will be given the nickname ‘Honey’ and will mostly be referred to as such. Enjoy! Also the Eddie edit I’ve used was made by the very talented @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 𑁍
Series Masterlist
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
The gentle breeze blowing in from the open window catches Eddie’s curls, shifting them across his face to tickle his nose. He groans, sweeping his palm across his face to brush away the waves. His eyes open hesitantly, an action he immediately regrets, screwing them shut again to hide from the offending bright sunlight cast across his pillows. Rolling onto his side and using his hand as a shield from the light, his lids flutter open once again, and he squints at the red glowing numbers on his alarm clock coming into focus.
10:32.
It’s a more than reasonable time to wake up, but on Sundays Eddie generally doesn’t like to rouse before midday, usually sleeping through the worst of his hangover, only clambering out of his pit of a bed when the urge to pee becomes all consuming.
With a groan he rolls onto his back, calloused fingertips picking the crusts of sleep from the corner of his eyes. His head pounds in time with his heartbeat, his mouth ash dry, the faint taste of tequila and vomit lingering on his tongue. He knew he’d regret it the second Harrington had slammed the expensive glass bottle down on his kitchen counter.
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
Eddie was already two beers in when Steve had arrived home. Sat in the living room, sandwiched between Robin and Nancy on the couch, he half-listened to the girls playfully bickering about some pop group, which girl was the best singer, who was the cutest. Eddie had zoned out, not particularly interested in the topic, wishing Steve would hurry up and get home. He was grateful at least for the Harrington’s working air conditioning, cold air caressing his skin.
Steve had finally burst through the front door, with a cheerful call of “honey I’m home!”. Robin leapt up from her seat, running through to the hall, Nancy and Eddie hot on her heels. Steve grinned from ear to ear, waving the tequila above his head in triumph.
“You got it?” Robin asked excitedly.
“Course I did!” Steve laughed, to a chorus of cheers from the group.
He’d finally caved last year, accepting the offer of a position at his dads company. He hasn’t been all too thrilled at the time, it was a tough enough pill to swallow that he was still living rent free in his family’s old home, staying behind when his parents made the move to Indianapolis. The only perk had been that with them gone, Robin had been free to move in, meaning that Steve didn’t have to wander around the large empty house alone. He’d worked his ass off in his new job, determined to prove that he was worthy of the position, that he had merit of his own. He’d done enough to earn himself a shot at a promotion.
Robin squeals, throwing her arms around Steve’s neck.
“Congrats dingus! I never doubted you for a second!”
“That’s not even the best part.” Steve says, kicking off his shoes and ripping the tie from around his neck, ushering everyone back into the kitchen.
“What’s the best part?” Nancy asks, grabbing four shot glasses from the cupboard above the sink.
“Well this new job requires me to have a PA, someone to handle calls, my schedule, stuff like that.”
“And that’s the best part because..?” Robin says, pulling the bottle from Steve’s hands and wrenching the cork from the top with a low pop.
“Because they told me I can pick whoever I want. So Buckley - the jobs yours if you want it.”
Robin freezes, tequila in hand hovering over the glasses.
“For real?”
“For real.”
There’s a moment of quiet as Robin mulls over the offer, a grin slowly creeping onto her face. She fills each shot to the brim, placing the bottle down on the counter and selecting a glass, holding it high in the air.
“To no more Family Video!”
Eddie laughs, grabbing his own shot, a little of the clear liquor spilling over the side.
“To no more Keith!” He adds, making Robin cackle.
“To Steve and Robin, on to better things.” Nancy says sweetly. The four of them clink their glasses together, then throw back the shots. It burns as it slides down Eddie’s throat, making him wince, but the resulting warmth in his chest isn’t unpleasant. He doesn’t complain when Steve leans over to refill his glass, although he knows he’ll feel it tomorrow.
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
Eddies back clicks loudly when he stands up from the bed, his shoulders making similar crunching sounds as he rolls them back, easing out the tension. He grabs the glass of water at his bedside, now warm from the sweltering heat, but he guzzles it down all the same, grunting when some spills from the side of his lips, dripping down to his chest. He runs a palm over his skin to wipe away the liquid, grimacing when he realises his chest is already damp, sweat having matted down the fine hairs sprouting there.
It had been a record breaking summer, the mercury rising steadily since early June, having finally reached its peak in mid August. Throughout the town, the roads and buildings shimmered and danced in waves of heat, the sidewalks and roads cracked and split. In Forest Hills, where most of the residents weren’t fortunate enough to have working air con, they had to get a little more creative in their battle against the sweltering temperatures. The dried lawn outside was littered with shallow plastic tubs and cheap inflatable pools, the kids of the park splashing and shrieking in cool water. They’d called out for Eddie to get in on more than one occasion, but the sight of the murky water, full of grass and mud from the kids bare feet had turned his stomach, and he’d politely declined their offer. He preferred to plug in the noisy electric fan in his room, crawling inside a spare bedsheet and positioning its opening in front of the oscillating blades, so it ballooned out around him, his own fort full of chilled air. Hours were whiled away alone in that sheet, Eddie’s nose buried in a book, or his rough fingertips plucking at the strings of his old acoustic guitar.
Eddie wipes his now sweaty palm on his boxers. He should take a shower, but it’ll be a pointless effort, given that by the time the afternoon rolls around he’ll be slick and musty again. He decides to save it for later, he can wash off the day before climbing back into bed, so he’s at least somewhat fresh for work tomorrow.
Tipping his head forwards, groaning at the throbbing pressure in his skull, he scrapes his hair up to the top of his head, pulling on the elastic around his wrist and wrapping it around his wild curls in a loose bun. A pair of sweatpants is plucked from the top of the pile on the floor, and giving them a quick sniff he decides they’re not offensive enough to warrant a wash just yet, stepping into them and letting them hang loose on his hips, the band of yesterdays boxers poking just above. He yanks a t-shirt over his head, the extra material only adding to the unbearable warmth he feels, but he’s not about to set foot outside of his home with his shirt off.
The slam of a car door comes through the window, followed by laughter. A bright, airy noise, carried on the breeze to fill Eddie’s room. He strains his ears to catch more of the foreign sound.
“Damn it’s hot.” A man drawls, his ‘o’ elongated into an ‘ah.’ Chicago, Eddie guesses. He shuffles over to the window, peering out to the vacant trailer next to his. A rented moving van is parked out front, next to a silver Honda Civic. Illinois plates. He watches the man make his way up the steps of the porch to the open door, followed by a woman a similar age and a young girl.
Eddie turns away from the new neighbours, shuffling through into the kitchen. He fills the coffee pot, grabbing a packet of pop tarts from the back of the cupboard while he waits for it to heat. He doesn’t bother toasting them, just takes a large bite of the stale pastry, sweet artificial strawberry on his tongue. A few crumbs fall to the floor, and he sighs, nudging them aside with his bare foot. He’ll tidy them later. Probably. Two aspirin are swallowed down next, in an attempt to dull the throbbing ache in his skull.
With his breakfast scoffed and a fresh coffee in hand, Eddie wanders to the living room, finding his leather jacket thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch. He pulls his Camels from a pocket, digs around in the other until he finally locates his lighter, then slips out the front door to the porch.
The man outside was right. Damn it is hot. The slight breeze offers some movement at least, even if it’s not particularly cooling it’s better than the still air inside. Eddie spies the splash of vomit splattered across the dirt by his porch, and his stomach churns at the bleary memory of stumbling out of a cab, spewing expensive tequila and cheap beer before he’d even paid the fare.
“Hey Eddie!”
The boy turns, squinting in the sun when he tries to locate the owner of the voice. Lizzie, the young girl from a few trailers down sits in a long patch of grass, her baby brother balanced on her lap, a too large sun hat on his bald head. It keeps slipping down, covering his face, and he squeals with laughter each time Lizzie pulls it back up, just for it to happen again.
“Mornin Elizabeth.” Eddie grins, unlit cigarette clamped between his teeth.
The girl’s smile disappears, replaced with a deep scowl.
“Don’t call me that Edward.”
Eddie chuckles, sticking his tongue out at her, a gesture that she quickly returns.
“You meet the new people yet?” She asks, nodding her head in the direction of the trailer next to his.
“Nah,” he says. “Have you?”
Lizzie nods again, her whispy blonde hair falling into her face.
“They seem nice.” She comments, giving him a smile so wide he can see the gap left by her missing front teeth. She turns her attention back to the baby cooing on her lap.
Eddie retreats back into the shade, lumping down on the old couch. It groans and protests at his weight, but it’s always done that in the sixteen years he’s known it to be out here. It hasn’t broken yet.
From his new position he has a clear line of sight to the trailer, the front door still wide open. That high laugh rings out again from inside, louder now. He rolls a calloused thumb against his lighter, getting enough of a spark to light his cigarette. He’s exhaling a billowing grey cloud when you step out into the sun.
Eddie sucks in a sharp breath that he should be letting out, his lungs burning in his chest. He clutches his palm to his mouth, trying to muffle his splutters, cheeks glowing crimson at coughing like the first time he’d tried a joint.
You don’t seem to have noticed his gasps for breath, hopping down the steps from the door and skipping around the back of the van. Eddie watches you lean inside, your tank top shifting up your lower back, exposing the softness that spills over the top of your shorts. And those shorts, goddamn. The denim strains tight over the swell of your ass, roughly cut off just beneath, indecently short. Eddie’s eyes are locked on the plush of your thighs, the way the smooth skin sticks together from the heat. When you turn he spots a scar on the outside of your left thigh, the skin raised in delicate swirls. He swears he can feel his own scars prickle under the thin cotton of his shirt.
Tearing his eyes away from you, Eddie takes a swig of his coffee, the porcelain mug clinking against his teeth. His nose wrinkles in disgust, he’d bought the cheap stuff, and the three heaped teaspoons of sugar he’d stirred in weren’t enough to mask the bitterness.
“Careful Honey. Let me take the heavy ones.” The older man from before jogs across to you, taking the cardboard box from your arms. He struggles back up the stairs, shifting his weight to keep hold of it. When he squeezes through the door way, the woman and girl step aside to let him through.
“Come on then Baby, make yourself useful!” You call, balancing a crate filled with records on your hip. Eddie cranes his neck, attempting to see what’s inside, but he has no luck from this distance. They must be yours, he thinks. The trailer is a carbon copy of his own, just one bedroom, bathroom, a small kitchenette and living room. Not big enough for the whole family, and the other girl, your sister Eddie assumes, looks too young to be living alone.
As you pass out more boxes from the van Eddie stubs out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray, and pushes up from the couch, making his way back inside.
The heat in the trailer is suffocating, the air thick with humidity, pushing back against him with every step he takes. Eddie drains the last of his coffee, adding the mug to the pile in the sink, another job for later. In the bathroom he brushes his teeth, then flips open the cupboard to grab his deodorant. Lifting his shirt just enough to reach under and spray himself, he winces at the sight of the marks littering his sides, faded with time, but still painfully obvious, smooth patches of grafted skin jagged at the edges. He turns away from the mirror.
Back in his bedroom the alarm clock now reads 11:16. He’s still got hours before he needs to leave, heading to Wayne’s for their weekly Sunday dinner. It was a tradition Shannon had been quite insistent on, even when her daughter had grown up and left the house she always returned on Sundays, 6pm sharp, for a home cooked meal and conversation. Eddie hadn’t been too thrilled initially when the invitation, the expectation, was extended to him, but now he actively looked forward to it. Shannon was nice, and her cooking was far better than anything Eddie could sort for himself. He always left with a couple of Tupperware's tucked under his arm, leftovers to keep him going for a few days.
He decides to get dressed properly, leaving his shirt but shrugging off the sweatpants and boxers, pulling clean underwear from his drawer and a pair of jeans. The denim wasn't ideal in this weather, but at this point they were almost a part of him, a constant uniform he wore daily.
With little else to occupy his time, Eddie makes a start on tidying his room. It essentially involves shifting piles of stuff from one place to another, rearranging clutter until the room is no less full, but a little easier to navigate. At least he can see the floor again. The worst of the dirty laundry is dumped into a basket, and Eddie balances it on his hip, his other hand collecting the various coffee mugs and cereal bowls, fuzzy green congealed mess in the bottoms.
The laundry tumbles from the basket into the drum of the ancient washing machine, followed by a generous shaking of Tide. Eddie closes the lid, placing a heavy brick on the top, the only thing that stops it from popping open midway through its cycle. It groans and creaks to life, and he leaves it thundering noisily, shaking the shelves on the wall above.
Another twenty minutes is killed by tackling the dishes in the sink, his skin crawling when a lump of what he assumes was once Honeycombs floats in the soapy water and brushes the back of his hand. With the draining rack piled high, a precarious mountain of mismatched porcelain and plastic that threatens to topple at any moment, he finally sweeps up the mess from his breakfast, long brown strands tangled in the brooms bristles.
“Might as well have a pack of dogs living here. Would be the same amount of hair laying around. Wayne used to grumble.
“You’re just jealous because most of yours fell out years ago.” Eddie would tease back, ducking to avoid a playful swat to the back of his head.
Eddie stands in the kitchen, his hands on his hips, surveying his mornings work. He rewards himself with another coffee, dumping in a fourth sugar in the hopes it’ll be enough to make it tolerable. Cigarettes in hand once again, he heads back outside.
You’re stood at the back of the van, your hand hovering over your eyes to shield you from the sun. Eddie takes in the crinkles at the corner of your eyes from your squinting, your warm smile causing the apples of your cheeks to swell. The corner of Eddie’s lips twitch around the cigarette, your smile so infectious his mouth itches to curl into a matching grin, despite the fact you're not smiling at him.
Lizzie’s mom Janet stands barefoot in the dirt opposite you, her chubby baby boy, now without his sun hat, balanced on her hip.
He knows he shouldn’t, but lowering himself onto the couch Eddie strains to eavesdrop on your conversation.
“Lizzie’s quite a handful, at least this one doesn’t give me much trouble.” Janet grins, hopping in place to scoot the baby further up her hip.
“He’s a little cutie. Aren’t you? You’re gorgeous.” You coo, extending your hand to take hold of the baby’s. He wraps his tiny fingers around your pinky, and you giggle, tracing your thumb across the back of his hand.
“Do you need a hand with anything?” Janet offers. “My husband worked last night, but he should be up soon. I can send him over?”
“That’s very kind of you. But we’ll be fine. We’ve not got much left to do now.”
“Okay. Well if you change your mind just knock, that’s us over there.” Janet says, turning to point at her trailer, colourful plastic toys littering the grass out front.
“Thank you. It was nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
You pretend to shake the baby’s hand, making Janet and you laugh, and the woman turns away with a small wave, bouncing the boy on her hip as she heads home.
You turn back into the van, pulling out another box overflowing with kitchen supplies as your family head back out to you.
“This is the last one.”
“So just the bed and the couch left?” The older woman asks.
You nod, passing the box to your sister, hand snatching down to catch a falling whisk before it hits the ground.
“Yep. Dad feeling strong?”
“Of course I am!” Your father says, curling his slim arms up, showing off muscles that aren’t there. Eddie takes in his skinny legs, the paunch of his stomach, his grey shirt clinging to him marked with dark patches of sweat. He doesn’t like his chances.
You’re back in the van now, holding one end of a tattered couch, a hideous floral pattern that would clash with just about anything. Your cheeks glow with exertion, brows creased. Your Dad is holding the other end, staggering backwards to step down to the ground, your mom calling to him to be careful.
Eddie can hear Wayne’s voice in his head.
Son, you better get off your ass and go offer to help.
He shakes his head to shut Wayne up, flicking his cigarette butt away and heading back inside.
In the living room he can hear your Dads grunts through the open window. Looking out he watches the two of you attempt to force the couch through the narrow doorway, struggling to turn it on its side so it will fit.
“To the left Honey. The left!” He says, and Eddie catches you rolling your eyes, a playful grin on your lips despite the struggle.
“My left or your left dad?”
“Mine obviously!”
Eddie knows he should go offer a helping hand. If Wayne were still here they’d have both been out there as soon as the moving van rolled up. His Uncle might have always been a fairly quiet man, keeping to himself, but he wasn’t one to sit by and watch others struggle. It was the way things worked in Forest Hills, the trailer park etiquette. None of these people had much, most of them living pay cheque to pay cheque, scraping by on the skin of their teeth each month. But everyone was in the same situation, they all had the same struggles, and so it bred a culture of giving up what little extra you had to help your neighbours. It was rarely cash, no one here had enough of a surplus to help each other financially, but there were other ways to offer assistance. Eddie had spent many a weekend checking under the hood of some banger, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, forearms smeared with grease. Wayne had taught him how to fix wobbly cupboard doors, leaking pipes, even patching up Mrs Goddard’s roof when a torrential rain storm brought it down above her kitchen.
So yes, he should be helping you move in, he was more than capable. But Eddie didn’t know you, he hadn’t grown up around your family like he had with the other trailer park residents. They knew him, they knew Wayne, and he was comfortable around all of them. He was used to judgment from the rest of Hawkins, but here, in his own little community he was treated like a normal person. Everyone here knew what it was like to be judged, to be looked down on by those more fortunate, and so they banded together to take care of one another. Even after the events in that fateful spring of ‘86, when Eddie was terrified to leave the park, he never had to worry about his neighbours. They knew him well enough to know that wasn’t capable of hurting anyone.
Eddie was wary of new people, he always had been. He’d dealt with enough shit over the years from people taking one look at him and deciding he was trailer trash, a satanist, a freak. He was terrified you’d take one look at him and jump to the same conclusions.
As Eddie lowers himself into the armchair, a loud cheer comes from outside, the couch must have finally made it into the trailer. His mind rolls back to the bare skin exposed under your top, the round globes of your ass in tight faded denim. He feels a swelling in his jeans, heat flushing his cheeks in embarrassment, although of course there’s no one around to see. He swallows, shifting on the edge of his seat and willing his body to calm down. He was sure he’d feel flustered enough seeing your pretty face around without the memory of jacking off to you replaying in his head.
With noon fast approaching, the heat in the trailer is reaching an unbearable peak. The leather of the chair, cracked and worn from years of Wayne throwing himself down into it after shifts at the plant, sticks to Eddie’s skin, peeling away from the back of his arms whenever he moves. His legs jiggle restlessly, the chain hanging from his hip clinking in time with the quiet ticking of the clock above the front door. He glances around the room for inspiration, something to pass the time and kill the mind numbing boredom. He could call Steve, maybe drive over to his house. He’s sure the boy and Robin are probably making the most of the pool, and the thought of dipping into that cool turquoise water sounds like heaven. He stands, about to head into the kitchen to pick up the phone, when he hears your mothers frustrated hiss from outside.
“John, seriously?”
“Just give me a minute treasure, I know they’re here somewhere.”
“Well you must have had them to take the bed apart.”
“I did. And I know I put them in the car!”
When Eddie steps over to the window, he sees you and your sister stood side by side, giggling at your parents bickering. Your mother has her arms folded across her chest, foot impatiently tapping on the grass.
Your dad emerges from the back seat of the car, looking sheepish.
“I think I left them at home.” He grumbles.
“John-“
“I know. I’m sorry! There must be a hardware store or something in this town.”
“Will they even be open on a Sunday?”
“Mom, stop, it’s fine.” You say, waving your hand dismissively. “I can sleep on the couch tonight and go get a screwdriver tomorrow.”
“Honey, you won’t be able to put the bed together by yourself.”
Eddie chews his bottom lip, listening to the four of you bounce potential solutions back and forth, your mom throwing irritated glares in your dads direction.
Wayne’s voice pipes up in Eddie’s head once again.
Boy, I raised you to help people out where you can.
“Jesus H Christ.” Eddie mumbles to himself, dragging a calloused palm down his face. He grabs his cigarettes, the perfect excuse for slipping back outside, and walks out to his porch once again. Ignoring the couch, he moves to rest his forearms on the rotting wood panels that line the porch. He plucks a cigarette from the small card box, but doesn’t light it, just spins it between his long fingers. He clears his throat as your parents continue to argue.
“You uhh.. you guys need a hand?”
Four sets of eyes swivel to Eddie. He gulps, feeling a bead of sweat roll from his hairline down his cheek.
“Uh yeah, actually we do.” You dad says, taking a step in Eddie’s direction.
“I need to put my daughters bed together, but apparently I uh.. left my tools at home.”
“Whatdya need?”
“Flat head screwdriver ideally.”
“Not a problem, give me a sec.” Eddie says, pushing back from the wood, wiping a splinter from his arm.
“Thanks, appreciate it.”
Eddie nods, ducking back into his home. His work kit is sitting by the front door where he’d dumped it yesterday. He grabs the handle, lifting the heavy plastic box with one hand and heading back out.
He jogs down the steps from his trailer, padding across to you and your family. The scorched grass is warm, scratching the soles of his bare feet.
“Should have what you need in here.” Eddie says quietly, holding the box out to your dad.
“Thanks.” He repeats with a bright smile. He extends the hand not holding the tools out to the boy, and Eddie takes it, the silver chains around his wrist jingling with the firm shake.
“Name’s John.”
“Eddie.”
“It’s actually Edward.” Comes a high pitched call from behind. Eddie glances over his shoulder, seeing Lizzie now sitting back out in the grass, a collection of Barbies keeping her company. She raises her brows and sticks out her tongue, and Eddie bites down on the muscle in his mouth to keep himself from doing it right back again.
“It’s Eddie. Just Eddie.”
“Nice to meet you Just Eddie.” John laughs, letting his hand drop back down to his side.
Your sister leans up on her tiptoes, whispering something in your ear. You giggle again, your eyes roaming across Eddie’s body, and he feels a rush of heat over his skin, more intense than the blazing sun that beats down on him.
“Well thanks again for these.” John says, slapping his palm on the lid of the toolbox.
“We’ll bring em back when we’re done with em.”
“Sure. N-no rush.” Eddie nods, turning back to home.
“Bye just Eddie!”
He’s halfway up the steps when your sister calls goodbye. He looks back over his shoulder to respond, stubbing his big toe on the edge of a step. It sends him stumbling forwards, body half turned the wrong way as he staggers, trying desperately to keep himself upright.
“Fuck - I, s-sorry. Bye.”
Crimson faced he limps as fast as he can, doing his best to ignore the giggling behind him.
“Girls! Stop it.” Your mom chastises.
Eddie slams the door closed behind him, resting his back against the wood, his sweat soaked shirt sticking to his skin.
“Real smooth Munson.” He groans to himself.
“Real fucking smooth.”
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
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harrywavycurly · 1 month
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Secret Rendezvous Part 4: Late
Masterlist: Here
TW: Language
Tag List: @emma77645 @aol19 @tlclick73 @prestinalove @kailey-firefly @fromasgardandback @therealgothamguardianfr @peaches-roses-sins @hiscrimsonangel @furiousladyking @angelina16torres-blog @sofaritsalrightt @josephquinnsfreckles @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @jasminelafleur @ohmeg @comeonatmebruh
A/N: Sorry I meant to have this up on Saturday but totally forgot and left it sitting in my drafts🙈 but anyway I hope yall enjoy this update! Curious to hear yalls thoughts!✨
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allthingseddie · 9 months
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I Wanna Be Yours - Part One
Summary: You are best friends with single dad Eddie Munson and you are helping him raise his daughter because you are head over heels for both of them.
Part Two Here Part Three Here
You had been best friends with Eddie Munson for years. You guys met when you were preteens living in the same trailer park. He was a couple of years older than you but he was always good company. You had been inseparable ever since and you even make the joke that he failed his senior year twice so that he could graduate with you. You understood each other like no one else could. You both had troubled upbringings and bonded over your similar home lives. Where he was raised by his uncle Wayne, you were raised by your grandma. You really felt like he was one of the only people that truly understood you, so it was no wonder that you were head over heels in love with him since you were 17.
A few months after your high school graduation, you decided you would finally tell Eddie about your feelings for him. You two were close enough that if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings, you were sure you could still be close friends, at least that’s what you were telling yourself as you walked across the trailer park to his trailer. You entered and headed to his bedroom where you knocked on the door.
“What?!,” Eddie asked suddenly.
“Hey Eds, what’s the matter?,” You asked. You knew him like the back of your hand and you knew that even though his tone came off as rude, he was just stressed.
“You know this would only happen to me. I finally graduate high school. Finally. I think, fuck it, if I can do that, I can make it out of this town. We can leave and enjoy life. Travel. But no, god has a fucked up plan for my life,” He says, taking a long drag of the cigarette between his lips.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“Jules is fucking pregnant Y/N. I slept with her all of one time and I fucking got her pregnant. I used protection I don’t understand how this happened.”
You knew that you now had a blank expression across your face. Eddie sat down on his bed and dropped his face into his hands. You stared at him and you knew you were completely fucked because all you wanted to do was comfort the guy you were totally in love with who got another girl pregnant. You sat down beside him and affectionately rubbed his arm with your hand.
“What if I suck at being a dad Y/N? What if I fuck the kid up like my dad fucked me up?,” He asks looking over at you.
“Eds, you are going to be a great dad. And I’ll always be there for you no matter what. I will help you that best that I can. You are way more of a man than your dad ever could be. I believe in you,” You respond. Eddie hugs you and you know that he’s crying. He’s scared and all you can do is be there for him.
Over the next few years, you kept true to your word like you always did. You stuck beside Eddie’s side and watched him become a great father to a beautiful little girl. You helped him wherever you could. Especially since Jules decided that she didn’t want the responsibly of being a parent herself. Eddie essentially had full custody of Halle himself. You and Eddie had decided to get an apartment together to help each other with the cost of moving out. He didn’t think that it was fair to raise a child in Waynes house, taking up yet more of his limited space, and you desperately wanted to be out of your grandmas house and have some independence. (Not to mention you were now in love with Eddie’s daughter as well as still being in love with him).
The three of you lived together in a 2 bedroom apartment. Eddie worked 2nd shift at the plant his uncle worked at making decent money, but a good chunk of it went to bills and Halle. You worked 1st shift as a teller at the local bank in Hawkins. Your schedules made it easier to take care of Halle together. When you got off of work, you would pick Halle up from the babysitters and take her home and feed her dinner and get her ready for the night. She would spend the morning with Eddie an he would drop her off at the babysitters on the way to work. To any outsider, it would look as if you were actually Halle’s mother and that you lived a simple domestic life, and you sometimes wished that was the truth.
Halle was 4 years old and she was a carbon copy of your best friend. He made you her godmother when she was born. You absolutely adored the little girl. She was funny and a total sweetheart. She could pull your heartstrings like no other person could, except for her dad. There were some complications to the arrangement you had with Eddie, however, which brought you to tonight. The last thing Eddie had on his mind since Halle was born was dating, so you decided to put yourself out there. You were dating Landon for a little over a month now and he was a nice enough guy. You had some similar interests and he was attractive. He had brought up coming over to your apartment and you quickly shot down the idea, which he didn’t question the first couple of times, but after a month of dating, he had a feeling you were hiding something from him.
You had finally told him about your living situation and how you were living with your male best friend and helping him raise his daughter and he didn’t see it as normal as you did. You always had this kind of luck when it came to dating and explaining your living arrangements to them. None of them could believe that you weren’t sleeping with Eddie.
“Theres just no way you could help raise someone’s daughter AND live with them with nothing in return. You have to be fucking him. ,” Landon had put it so plainly. You left his apartment right then and there and didn’t look back. You were now back at your apartment on the couch, drinking wine and watching shitty tv to try to distract yourself from your dwelling. You were dwelling on the fact that even though you did like Landon, part of the reason you got so upset is because you desperately wanted what he described. You hated that you couldn’t seem to move on from Eddie. You hated that you fell more in love with him every time you saw him with his daughter. You hated that he had you in a chokehold you couldn’t break free from, yet at the same time, you also didn’t want to break free from it. It was a vicious cycle you were going through lately. You would meet a guy, go on a few dates, and then once you break it off with them, you would realize that you never would have committed to them anyways and pity yourself.
Eddie was currently at his weekly dinner at Waynes house with Halle which you often also went to, but opted out of tonight since you had a date. You had planned out being out later than you were, so when Eddie came back at 8:30 carrying a sleeping Halle in his arms and saw you sitting on the couch alone drinking wine, he was surprised to say the least.
“Hey, what are you doing back already? I thought you were out with Lane tonight?,” Eddie asked quietly, laying Halle down on the loveseat carefully and giving you a puzzled look. Part of you thinks he always said your dates names wrong on purpose just to get under your skin.
“Landon. And nah that’s over. He was a loser,” You replied, taking another drink of wine and turning your attention back to the tv.
“I thought you really liked this one?,” Eddie asked sitting down beside you.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t even known him for that long. He let his true colors show tonight and I wasn’t impressed, so its over. I think I’m just gonna stop dating for a while.”
“Dating is for losers. Be single and boring with me,” Eddie replied and chuckled lightly.
“Sounds good to me,” You responded, smiling slightly at your best friend. Halle then stirred in her sleep and looked over at you.
“Y/N?,” She asked quietly, reaching out towards you. You place your glass on the table and go over to the loveseat where she was laying and pick her up and place her in your lap.
“Hey princess, I missed you,” You say cuddling the small girl.
“Missed you, too. Why didn’t you go to grandpas with us?,” She asks, rubbing the sleep out of her big brown eyes.
“Well, I promised to eat dinner with someone else, but can I tell you a secret?,” You ask, lowering your voice.
“Yeah,” She said with a smile.
“I would have much rather spent my night with you pretty girl,” You tell her, tickling her neck and she lets out a giggle in return. You lay your head back on the loveseat and cuddle with Halle until she falls back asleep. You are stroking her back when you start to drift off yourself. You are woken up when you feel Eddie gently picking her up off of you to take her to bed.
“You should go lay down in bed before you hurt your neck on the loveseat,” Eddie says to you, smiling down at you.
“Okay Eds,” You say. You stand up and follow him down the hallway and go into your own bedroom ,” Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” He says.
While asleep, you dream of the night Eddie told you he got Jules pregnant, instead you get to tell him that you love him first. He tells you he’s in love with you also and he asks you to raise his daughter with him and be her mom. You are enjoying the dream when you are woken up in the morning. You are woken up by movement on your bed. You open your eyes slowly and see Halle laying on her stomach beside you, looking down at you as you sleep.
“Good morning babygirl. What are you doing up?,” You ask looking at her.
“Daddy’s asleep and I want pancakes,” She responds.
“Mmmm, pancakes do sound pretty good,” You say. You pull her small body into yours and cuddle her and she giggles ,”Just five more minutes.”
“But I’m hungry nowwwww,” she slightly whines.
“Fine, but only for my favorite girl,” You tell her and kiss her forehead before sitting up. She hops off of your bed and runs to the kitchen. You slowly get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen after her. You get out a pan and whip up some boxed pancake batter. You make enough pancakes and bacon for the three of you. You and Halle eat breakfast together and Eddie still hasn’t gotten out of bed. You were sure the smell of bacon would wake him up. Once you’re done eating, you look at Halle.
“Your dad sure is being lazy today,” You joke with her.
“We have to wake him up,” She states matter-o-factly.
“Do you want to play a joke on him with me?,” You ask smirking at the girl and she immediately giggles and says yes. You grab a now cool pancake and head to Eddie’s room with Halle following right behind you. She slowly opens the bedroom door and you see Eddie peacefully sleeping , slightly drooling onto his pillow. You think he looks beautiful like this and you almost feel bad that you’re about to ruin his peaceful slumber. You walk carefully through the bedroom and toss the pancake so it lands flatly across his face and startles him awake. Halle laughs loudly.
“Heyyy, what was that forrr?,” He asks whining.
“Get up lazy,” You say to him with a smirk on your face.
“Yeah get up lazy,” Halle mimics you.
“Is this a pancake?,” Eddie asks, holding it out in front of his half closed eyes and examining it.
“Yes it is. At your daughters request,” You respond.
“Aww you had pancakes without me?,” He says.
“We made some for you, too lazy,” You say.
“Yeah lazy,” Halle says again.
“Hey, that’s daddy to you little missy,” He says grabbing Halle and pulling her into him and tickling her. She shrieks out a laugh. Eddie lets up on her and takes a bite of the pancake that you threw at his face.
“Did you make bacon?,” Eddie asks looking at you hopefully.
“Duh. Who would I be if I made pancakes without bacon?,” You respond and smile back at him.
“Definitely not my favorite adult anymore,” He teases and stands up. The three of you make your way out of his bedroom and back into the kitchen. You pour Eddie a cup of coffee and refresh your own while he heats up his pancakes and bacon and then sits down to eat. You hand him his cup and sit down at the table with him.
“What should we do today Halle?,” You ask her.
“Play dress up and fashion show,” Halle says and steals a piece of her dads bacon. That meant that she wanted you to do her makeup and put on her princess dresses so she could model in her oversized childrens high heels for you and Eddie and you couldn’t be happier to do that.
“Sounds like a plan, stan,” You say.
“Who’s Stan?,” Halle asked, confused.
“I’m sorry, is that not your name?,” You tease the girl. She laughs at you.
“No, my name is Halle,” She responds laughing.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I spent all this time thinking your name was Stan,” You smile widely at the girl and she returns the smile.
“Do you want to play dress up and fashion show with us daddy?,” Halle asks Eddie.
“Ill be a judge at the fashion show, I’m not letting you two trick me into wearing makeup again,” Eddie says taking a drink of his coffee and narrowing his eyes at you. You chuckle at him, remembering when you conned him into letting you do his makeup and hair and forcing him to walk down the ‘runway’ as you and Halle rated his walk.
“Robin is coming over later to hang out for a little bit,” You say to the two of them. You had been close with Robin for a while as you two were in marching band together. She was your closest friend other than Eddie.
“Will Robin play dress up and fashion show with us?,” Halle asks.
“I’m sure she will for a little bit,” You respond and she smiles widely. You spend the morning catching up on some of your laundry for work and doing some household chores. Then it was time for the infamous dress up and fashion show. You used your bedroom as the dressing room. You carefully put some light makeup on Halle and helped her braid her curly hair. She put on a pink princess dress and some plastic childrens high heels and walked out of your bedroom and down the runway (hallway) out to the living room to model for her dad.
“9.8 out of 10,” Eddie says with a smile on his face. He used to give her a 10/10 every time, but she got bored with the same answer every time so now he would switch it up to keep her happy. Halle came back to your room and this time changed into a green princess dress and the same high heels. She walked back out to the living room to get Eddie’s rating for this outfit.
“11 out of 10,” Eddie says.
“Daddy, 11 is more than 10,” Halle says with a frown, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Well you are smarter than me, so I’ll take your word for it. 9.98 out of 10,” Eddie’s responds. There’s a knock at the door and Halle goes over to answer it and finds Robin.
“Ohh wow, that a 10 out of 10 look right there,” Robin says entering the apartment and Halle hugs her legs.
“Thank you,” Halle says with a bright smile.
“How come she can give you a 10 out of 10 but I can’t?,” Eddie asks.
“Cause daddy, you said it every time,” Halle says. Eddie holds his hands up defensively. Robin makes her way to your bedroom and sits down on the end of your bed.
“Hey what have you been up to?,” Robin asks taking off her jacket. Halle runs back into the room this time with an old Halloween costume.
“I want this dress now,” She says holding it out to you. You help her put on the witches dress with the matching hat and she makes her way back out to the hallway.
“Not much. I ended things with Landon last night,” You reply.
“What was wrong with him?,” Robin asks curiously.
“He got mad when I told him about my living situation. Said there was no way I could live with a man without having sex with him,” you respond.
“Oh you most definitely can. I live with Steve and I don’t have sex with him,” Robin says.
“Robs, you’re not attracted to men, that doesn’t really count,” You respond.
“Oh so you’re admitting you want to have sex with Eddie then?,” Robin asks with a smirk. A blush washes over your face and you roll your eyes.
“C’mon Y/N, I know you’re in love with him,” Robin states.
“You’re in love? Like in a fairytale?,” Halle asks coming back into the room and you shoot daggers at Robin.
“Robin doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” You say helping Halle change into her next outfit. Eddie walks into your room.
“Daddy! Y/N is in love like in a fairytale!,” Halle says excitedly.
“Oh is she now? You have a change of heart about Brandon?,” Eddie asks.
“Landon. And no. Robin is just assuming things,” You respond.
“Who’s Brandon?,” Halle asks.
“No one important Hals,” You say to her.
“So who’s the lucky guy then?,” Eddie asks teasing you.
“My lord and savior Jesus Christ,” You deadpan and Eddie chuckles.
“I’m actually gonna take our single friend out tonight to meet the love of her life,” Robin says wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ruffling your hair.
“Robs, its Sunday. Where am I going to meet the love of my life?,” You look at her.
“I don’t know, church?,” She shrugs her shoulders and Eddie laughs again.
“Okay well you kids have fun,” Eddie says chuckling, grabbing Halles hand and leading her out of the room.
“I’m only 2 years younger than you!,” You shout after him and he laughs again. You fall back onto your bed and sigh dramatically.
“C’mon Y/N, come out with me, it’ll be fun. We can get a drink or two and mingle. I’ll be your wingwoman,” Robin says.
“I’m swearing off dating for a while,” you respond with your eyes closed.
“Why, because you don’t have the balls to tell the man you want to date your feelings for him?,” Robin asks. You stand up from your bed and change into an outfit to go out with Robin in.
“You know what, I’ll go out with you just so you stop accusing me of being in love with him,” you say.
“Hah! I got my way,” Robin responds with a shit eating grin on her face. You finish getting ready and both leave the apartment. You decide to go to a local bar. When you get there, you order a mojito and Robin orders a double-shot of jack and coke. You both sit at the bar for a while and make small talk.
“Hey, can I buy you a drink?,” A guy that appears to be in his mid to late twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes comes up to you and asks.
“No thank you, I have my one for the night. Thank you though!,” you respond and turn back to Robin.
“Y/N what the hell! I didn’t even have to be your wingwoman he just came up to you and you totally shut him down,” Robin exclaims.
“I could tell I wasn’t interested,” You respond.
“Why cuz he’s not Eddie?,” Robin asks.
“Yeah pretty fucking much!,” You say and lay your head on your arm ,” I am so pathetic. I’ve been in love with that man since I was 17 and now I’m 23. That’s 6 years Robin. Six fucking years and he has no interest in dating. What am I doing?,” You asking, taking a swig of your drink and looking at her.
“I finally got you to admit it!,” Robin says excitedly.
“Yeah well you bring it up every time were together so you wore me down. Happy?,” You ask.
“Well now we gotta figure out how to get you two together,” Robin replies.
“Robin, I’ve known him for forever. Don’t you think if he was attracted to me at all I would have any sort of indication?,” You respond rhetorically.
“No because love makes you blind. What about the fact that he never says the right names for the guys you date?,” Robin says.
“What about it? He has smoked a lot of weed in his life, it can fuck with your memory,” You reply.
“He does it on purpose because he doesn’t like any guy you date,” Robin says.
“He’s never met the guys I date,” You respond.
“And why do you think that is? Because you don’t care about the guys you date as much as you do Eddie. You wont even let them come to your apartment because you don’t want to have a serious relationship because you’re in love with him. And I think he has feelings for you, too,” Robins says.
“And what makes you ‘think’ that?,” You ask and roll your eyes.
“The way he looks at you. Especially the way he looks at you when you’re with Halle,” Robin says.
“Robs that not proof. Unless Eddie has come up to you and said ‘Robin, I have feelings for Y/N’, you have no solid proof for me to go on to ruin my friendship with him,” You respond.
“I’ll get it out of him just like I did you. I’ll have Steve help me wear him down,” Robin responds.
“Oh yeah that’s real comforting, wearing someone down to admit feelings,” You respond.
“Well, it worked with you did it not?,” Robin says.
“Fine, you can try all you want, but I guarantee he does not feel the same way,” You respond finishing your drink.
“Okay ms grumpy pants,” Robin says. You leave the bar and head home to finish your laundry and do the rest of your tasks to get ready for the workweek. You drift off to sleep daydreaming about Eddie confessing his feelings for you and and kissing his soft lips with yours finally.
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loveshotzz · 1 year
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Summary: When you move to Hawkins to start over, your new unexpected friendship with your weed dealer next door is your saving grace. It was never your intention to fall in love with him though.
18 PLUS
Chapter One: Bat Out Of Hell
Chapter Two: Paradise By The Dashboard Light
Chapter Three: All Revved Up With No Place To Go
Chapter Four: Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad
Chapter Five: Heaven Can Wait
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duuhrayliegh · 11 months
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bartender!eddie x dancer!reader
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just an idea i’ve been tossing around, lmk what yall think!!!
okay but imagine that eddie munson finds himself at a burlesque lounge on the sunset strip. he’s immediately entranced by the energy and the music and the women. he absolutely had to get out of hawkins so he made the trek to LA, hoping to find some smidgen of fame with his guitar skills. instead he finds burlesque. he finds the dancing, the jazz, the women, the drinks, the overall ambience and he just knows he has to be apart of it. so he finds the band manager, begs for an audition for the band only to be redirected to the owner who denies his request but offers him a position as a bartender. does he want to be serving drinks? no, but it’s a foot in the door.
so he stays, serving drink after drink, longing to be performing in the band, performing for the hundreds of customers that pay the overpriced cover charge of the burlesque lounge. he makes it a weekly habit to ask if the band needs coverage for the guitarist, and every week the band manager says no. so he falls into a monotonous loop, one that involves him creating cocktails, checking IDs, applying an almost ungodly amount of eyeliner (and subsequently never being able to get it all fully so he looks like a raccoon as he reapplies), acquiring a numerous amount of tattoos from his tips at the bar, continuing to write songs and aching to be on the band stage. 
all of this causes him to slump. he would never admit it of course. but he’s single, in his mid-twenties, working at a bar that is continuously packed with some of the most beautiful people he’s every had the pleasure of laying eyes upon. the best view on the sunset strip with no windows. no way out. he’s slowly finding himself back in the monotony that he was trying to escape from in hawkins. he’s probably about two seconds from putting in his notice when you walk in.
you stroll in, hair bouncing against your shoulders, every bit of you looks like a dream. you stand in front of his station, eyes wide and watching the women dancing. you seem in a trance, the same trance that eddie was when he first witnessed the burlesque lounge. he knows it all too well. he can tell by your general vibe that you’re new to town so he offers you a drink “on the house, baby doll” you blush at the name, your shoulders raising in an effort to shrink yourself. “you from around here?” he knows the answer but he wants a conversation, a connection, a spark, something to make waves. “unless i’ve suddenly transported back to the land of cows and endless nothingness, no i’m not from here” “well dorothy, welcome to the land of oz” he toasts your drink before reluctantly returning to his job. 
two hours later, you emerge from the backstage area, an excited look dawning your features as you approach the bar again. “you might be seeing me around here more often mr. bartender sir” his eyebrows shoot to his hairline as he cleans the wine glass in his hand. “and that would be because?” he prompted your answer while swinging the white towel over his shoulder. “because i have a dance audition” “oh you dance baby doll?” “mostly in the mirror at home, but i know that i can learn really fast” “that what you told ol’ nance up there?” “i did, and she agreed to at least let me audition” he leans against the bar top, his hands coming to rest just beside yours on the dark grain wood. “you’re ambitious, anyone ever told you that?’ he watches your lips curl into a beaming  smile, clearly praise looks good on you “i tell myself that every day” 
your finger taps the tip of his nose before you bounce off the barstool. he watches as you flit out of the door of the bar yelling a quick goodbye over your shoulder. he realizes now that his life is about to get a whole less monotonous with you around and he can’t help but smile about that. 
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mypoisonedvine · 2 years
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𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 6: manic monday.
𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - eddie tags along for a day in the life of a real adult: college, then work. and later, he lets you tag along for a night in the life of a starving artist.
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 5.8k
𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - sexual conversation/talking about sex acts, more deceased parent discussions, vague description/mention of nude pictures, drug use mentions, really just fluff
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Things were different after that— quieter.  Part of you couldn’t help but imagine it was the calm before the storm; mostly, you hoped it was the beginning of a new phase in your relationship with Eddie.  That phase being tolerance, maybe even a hint of friendliness.
You decided not to bring up what happened in Eddie’s van on the way home from school that day… because nothing actually happened.  How do you talk about something that didn’t even happen, anyways?  You could talk about what almost happened, if you actually were sure what that was.  It felt like, for a second, you were about to kiss— but every time you thought about it again, you convinced yourself that you were just misreading things.  Because he would never— and you would never—
You heard the door shut and straightened up, as if you were about to get caught, but on the outside all you were doing was eating your cereal.
“Morning,” Eddie greeted as he sauntered into the kitchen, shirtless and rubbing his eyes with his fist.  With a mouthful of Grape-Nuts, all you could offer was a quick nod in his direction.
It was dark for how late it was in the morning, since it was overcast outside, and the whole kitchen was a bit gray as a result.  Eddie stood out in some way, seeming to be more colorful and lively than everything else— but then again, he was the only living thing you were looking at, except for technically the daisies on the counter in the white ceramic vase.  Wayne had started bringing your mom flowers as often as he could get away with, and she kept them in the kitchen.  See how they just brighten everything up? she’d beam as she finished arranging them for display on the bar.  And you loved the way she smiled at them and tilted her head while she fluffed the petals up again.
Eddie was like that— he brightened up everything.  Even if he drove you up the wall sometimes, you could at least appreciate that.
He stood in the middle of the floor for a second, glancing around.  
“Where’s your mom?” he wondered.
“She had an errand to run,” you recalled, “something with… taxes… or something…”
He snorted.  “Grown-up stuff,” he shrugged.
“Yep,” you agreed.
“What are you eating?” he asked.  You had to swallow another bite to answer.
“Grape-Nuts,” you replied, and he grimaced.
“You can eat that stuff?”  He shuddered when you nodded.  “You’re tougher than me.  I need my Lucky Charms— gives me my luck and my charm.”
You smirked a little and looked down at your bowl, stirring what was left around with the tip of your spoon.  You looked at him again when he reached up to the top shelf of the pantry to get the box of cereal— and as he did, you could finally make out the name on his ribs: Barbara.  "Who is she?" you blurted out.
"Huh?" 
You pointed to his ribcage, and he looked down as if he forgot he had the tattoo there.
"Oh— that's my mom.  Barbara Rose Broussard."
You felt guilty for almost being jealous before, having assumed it was a former lover or something.  "That's a nice way to remember her."
"I've got this for her, too," he explained as he extended his left arm out to you, showing you the long-stemmed rose inked into the skin there, extending from the inside of his elbow to about halfway down his forearm.  The pointed end of the stem reminded you of a needle; it was nestled right over the vein, too, and you wondered if that was intentional.
"I wish I had your pain tolerance," you smiled.  "Then again, I think the best thing I could do to honor my dad is not get any tattoos.  Or piercings.  Or boyfriends.  Ever."
Eddie snorted, grabbing the cereal and sitting down with the box at the table.  "He was strict, huh?"
"Sort of."
"No wonder you're such a goody two-shoes," he smirked, shoving his hand straight in and shoveling the chex and marshmallows into his mouth by the fistful.  "Still daddy's little girl, huh?"
“Aren’t you gonna use a bowl?  And a spoon?” you sneered.  “And milk?”
“Answer my question first,” he insisted.
You chewed your lip for a second.  "I guess so."
He kept smiling at you.  "I don’t like milk.  And I’m using nature’s spoons.”
“Nature’s unwashed, disease-ridden spoons,” you mumbled, sighing.
“Hey, they’re washed,” he defended just as he shoved his forearm back into the box, the motion accompanied by the loud crinkling of plastic and the rustling of the cereal.  “Think I’m walkin’ around with dirty hands?”
“Probably,” you raised an eyebrow.
“Nope,” he denied.  “Just a dirty mind.”
He winked at you just before he tossed back another handful of cereal, and you cleared your throat as you looked down at your own bowl, now empty.  "U-um, so, there's no school today, right?"
"Not for me," he smiled, "but you've got classes, right?"
"Just one," you corrected, "and then work."
"Take me with you, please?  I'm gonna be so fucking bored today."
“Bored?” you repeated incredulously.  “Figured you’d be planning your campaign or jamming with the band.”
“Jeff, robotics camp, remember?” he prompted.
“Right,” you nodded.  “I mean, I guess it would be kinda fucked up to make you drive me but then not let you come…”
He perked up.
“So I’ll take the bus,” you finished.
“Pleeeeeaase?” he whined.  “I mean, don’t you think I could use the education?”
It wasn’t a bad argument, actually; you glanced to the side.  “Well, my class is having a field day,” you remembered, chewing your lip as you considered it.
“They have field day in college?” he asked excitedly.
“No, like, my photography class is going in the field to take pictures,” you explained.
“Which field?”
“Not a literal field, Eddie,” you sighed, “we’re just going outside.”
It was exactly one hour later that he made you eat those words while you held your camera and watched your fellow classmates step through the tall grass in search of their perfect shot.
“I dunno, this looks like a field to me,” he noticed as he raised his arms, gesturing to the wide open clearing that Professor Hill had brought you all to.
“I didn’t think he’d actually make us photograph somewhere like this,” you defended, speaking quietly in case the professor heard you questioning his methods.
It was hot out— those ruthless Indiana summers were just around the corner— and you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand as you searched for something worthy of your camera’s attention.  In a landscape as empty as this, there wasn’t much to focus on… and whatever there was had already been snatched up by your classmates, and you were still hoping to come up with something original to shoot.
Eddie said he would help you look, too, but he had no idea what to look for.  In a couple minutes he seemed to be in his own daydream anyways, smiling to himself, swinging his legs a bit as he walked.  And then he was going in a big circle, trying to step in the exact same shoe print he’d left the last time around, making psh, psh sounds every time he placed his foot on the grass.  You rolled your eyes and ignored him, finding a torn leaf on the ground and reluctantly squaring up your camera to shoot it— no, it was hardly worth the film it would waste, but it was something.
You both turned when you heard someone coming up towards you, seeing your professor approaching Eddie; you stood up straight.
“You must be Edward,” Professor Hill smiled, extending a hand towards Eddie, who shook it eagerly.
“I knew it, she talks about me all the time,” Eddie joked with a grin.
“You were an excellent subject for her photograph series— such an expressive face!”
Eddie froze when the professor suddenly grabbed his face, leaning in closely and staring at him.
“These eyes!” he exclaimed.  "Like a turbulent storm on the sea at golden hour!  It's like I can see your troubled past, your hopes and dreams, just by looking into them!"
Eddie smiled nervously as he glanced at you.  "Is he always like this?" 
You laughed and shrugged.  Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as the professor let him go and stepped back.  “A talented young photographer and a natural muse!  What a perfect couple you make,” Professor Hill smiled coyly.
You and Eddie simultaneously began awkwardly laughing and stammering through several replies.
"Oh— we're not—" Eddie started.
"No, nonono," you choked.
"It's not like that," Eddie assured.
"Technically we're related!" you continued.
"Except not actually," he jumped in.
"But we aren't—" you continued.
"I mean, her?" Eddie scoffed.  "Never."
"He's— he's a freak!" you rushed.
You couldn't be sure how much of that Professor Hill had actually understood, considering you'd said it all at once, but he raised his hands up in relent.  "Okay, okay!  You're not a couple!  Got it."
As the professor turned on his heel and walked away to check on other students, you chewed your lip and Eddie played mindlessly with his hair.
"Let's, uh, find something to take some pictures of," you suggested, and Eddie nodded.
You both trudged through the grass as you looked for inspiration— all the grass and trees seemed the same, you weren't sure where to start.  It was probably some weird challenge that Professor Hill had come up with, to find inspiration in as bland a place as this.
"Heeeeeyyy, check this out," Eddie announced after a few minutes of searching with a grin, "these grasshoppers are totally doing it!"
You glanced where he was pointing in the grass to see two bright green insects on a stalk of grass together, joined at the end, and you grimaced.  "Real mature," you sighed.
"You should take a picture of this," he suggested.
"Yeah, I think I can do a little better than bug fucking."
George appeared suddenly, leaning in to speak softly to the two of you.  "You know, the female will eat the male after they're done mating."
"Thanks for the tidbit, George," Eddie offered sarcastically, shuddering as the other man disappeared to get back to his own photography.
"That's funny," you smirked, "'cause in the human world, the female is lucky if the male eats her at all."
Eddie cleared his throat, and when you looked at him, he was looking a little flushed.  Maybe it was just the heat?  Sweat was making his hair stick to his forehead, after all— but maybe you finally got to him.  You smiled proudly to yourself at the thought.
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“Niiice,” Eddie crooned with a nod when he saw you in your work uniform for the first time.  It was just a red vest with a nametag, but it still managed to be the most unflattering thing any person could wear, and you crossed your arms self-consciously as you frowned.
“I don’t even know why they make me wear this thing, I’m almost never at the counter.”
“Where are you usually?” he asked.
“The darkroom,” you explained, “but today I’m covering the register for a half hour until Kevin gets here.”
“Kevin, your coworker?” 
“No, Kevin the President of Zimbabwe— yes, he’s my coworker,” you sighed, unlocking the register and opening the tray, counting the money before you officially clocked in.
Of course, you weren’t exactly supposed to have friends (or step-family) loitering around the counter with you when you were working— and the darkroom was strictly employees only.  But you let him do both, because it was a slow day and it turns out people are willing to pay to have their pictures developed whether or not some weird kid is sitting on the back counter, swinging his feet and eating candy he took from the shelves and didn’t pay for.
The first customer wanted a whole roll of film in eight-by-tens— her son’s birthday party; the second was a professional turning in wedding photos.  Then there was a half hour of nothing, and you read your book while Eddie threw Red Hots in the air to try to catch them in his mouth.
You glanced up from your book, watching him open his mouth wide and lean to the side only for the candy to hit his cheek and land on the dark green carpet.  “You look ridiculous,” you mumbled to him as you shook your head.
“You want one?” he offered, holding his hand up like he was about to throw it at you— you ducked instinctively even though he never let go of it.
“No,” you frowned, making him shrug and toss the candy up for himself (and he caught it that time).  “Didn’t you want to come with me so you wouldn’t be bored at home?”
“Yeah,” he answered flatly as he chewed on the candy— his teeth were starting to turn red.
“How’s that working out for you?” you asked sarcastically, but his answer was totally genuine.
“Great!” he beamed.
“How?!” you yelped.  “We’re not even doing anything.”
He shrugged again.  “We don’t have to.”
You didn’t quite know what he meant by that, but thankfully your time at the counter ended just ten minutes later, after one more customer came in to pick up their prints that had been developed yesterday.  That was when you got to properly break the rules and show Eddie the darkroom.
“Woah,” he noticed as he walked in behind you.  “Kinda spooky in here.”
“You get used to it,” you assured.
“I know this is a stupid thing to say but, uh,” he said as he looked around, “it’s really dark.”
“Yeah, it’s stupid,” you agreed, “but I get what you mean.”
You were already setting up the chemical bins while he was still exploring, though there really wasn’t much to see.  There wasn't anywhere to go either, the small room was really meant for just one person at a time.  It wasn’t awkwardly cramped, except when Eddie wanted to see what you were working on and had to squeeze between the two tables of bins— forcing him to press up to your back to fit.  “So, what’s all this?” he asked quietly.
“Well, this is the developer,” you explained as you motioned to one bin filled with semi-clear liquid, pointing at each one as you went, “that’s the soft bath, aaaaand that’s fixer.”
“Cool, cool,” he nodded thoughtfully.  “And, what does that mean?”
You snorted.  “You put the blank picture in the developer, and that makes it start, well, developing.  You put it in the stop bath to make it stop so it doesn’t over develop.  And the fixer sort of, like, seals it so it won’t be affected by light anymore— once it dries, that is.”
“Okay, that actually makes some sense,” Eddie agreed.  
“So, we’re gonna pop open all these canisters and load the film onto the reel,” you explained.
“Then what?” 
“Then,” you continued, sighing slightly as you exerted some force on the plastic containers to get the film out, “that goes in that tank.”
Eddie looked at where you were motioning with your head.  
“And after that, well, you’ll see,” you decided, tiring of the explanations.
He leaned in over you to get a closer look at the strip of negatives as you unraveled it.  You turned and stared at his profile for a second; by the dark red light, Eddie looked different— it seemed to show off the angle of his jaw more, but you couldn’t see the color of his eyes like usual.
“It’s kinda crazy,” he noticed, “you get to have a glimpse into these people’s lives, you get to make their moments last forever.”
“Taking the picture makes it last forever,” you corrected. “I’m just the one that makes it look decent.”
You couldn’t see details while the negatives were this small, but when you leaned in close, you could get the gist— a kid in a bathing suit with floaties on their arms, a dog running through the sprinklers.  
It all looked pretty typical, so you loaded it onto the reel and opened the next canister.
“What kind of weird stuff do you see come through here?” he wondered.
“I mean, mostly it’s just—”
"Somebody's mom's homemade Playboy shots?" he assumed with a laugh.
You sighed.  "You joke, but that's a lot of my job."
"Nice," he grinned.
"Not at all," you rolled your eyes.  "If people wanna take dirty pictures, can't they have the decency to do it on instant film?"
"Hey, you've got a Land camera," he remembered with a grin, "you ever taken any little naughties on that?"
"Of course not," you scoffed.  "Do I seem like someone who would do that?"
"No, that's why it would be hotter if you did," he explained.  "It's never the ones you expect, anyway."
"How would you know?" you challenged.  "Nobody's ever given you one, have they?"
"Well, no…"
As he trailed off, you smiled and held up a strip of film, dangling it in the air.  "I think we've got a live one here, if you wanna take a peek," you offered.
He should've known not to fall for that.  "Oh god!” he grimaced as soon as he leaned in to look at the negatives.  “So much hair!"
"This guy is relentless," you laughed.  "I can't tell if someone else is taking them for him or if he sets up a timer or what, but he has a roll of film developed almost monthly— and they’re all like this.”
“So he comes here and makes some innocent college kid develop his full frontal shots?” Eddie realized.  “That’s messed up.  Get your ya-ya’s however you want, but don't inflict it on the poor employees of the Rite Aid photo counter…"
“Oh look!  He’s doing lunges in this one,” you tried to move the negative closer to his face, but Eddie tilted  his chin up and looked at the ceiling.
“I’m already scarred for life, thanks.”
“Just wait til the ones where he bends over and—”
“AAAHH,” Eddie yelled and plugged his ears with his fingers.
“Okay, okay!  I’m loading it on the reel, you’re safe,” you promised, and he calmed down.  “I didn’t know you were so squeamish.”
“Listen, there are worse things to look at than a naked dude,” Eddie decided, crossing his arms, “but I guess I forgot that it’s not only good-looking people who take pictures of themselves in the buff.”
“It… very rarely is,” you promised.  “I guess if you’re someone people want to see naked, you don’t need to do DIY nudie shoots.  You can have them done by the professionals.”
“Well, if you ever feel like switching careers, that probably pays better than this,” Eddie offered, and you chuckled awkwardly.
“I’ll stay on this side of the camera, thanks,” you decided, “and I don’t think there would be much of an audience for that.”
“C’mon, would you quit saying stuff like that?” he groaned.  “I don’t know if chicks think pretending not to know they’re hot is attractive or something—”
“Eddie, I’m not pretending,” you insisted, “I’m not— I don’t look like that.”
“Like a porn star?  No, you don’t,” he laughed, “that doesn’t mean you’re not hot.”
“Isn’t that what every guy really wants, though?” you shrugged.
“I mean, I would be remiss to speak for every guy… but I think most guys just want a normal girl— you know, pretty, but real,” he explained.  “The perfect girl doesn’t look like a porn star… she just acts like one.”
You snorted; “So, she fucks the pizza boy?”
“So you have seen porn!”
“What?!  I—” you stammered.  “I’ve just heard about it.”
“Uh huh, sure,” he replied disbelievingly.  “You never rented a dirty movie?”
“Not even once,” you shook your head.
“Never even saw one somebody else rented?”
“Why are we talking about this?”
“I knew it!” he clapped his hand, making you jump.  “You’re not that innocent.”
“I never said I was innocent,” you shrugged, suddenly feeling more aware of Eddie standing just behind you.  
“Did you watch it at a sleepover or something?” he interrogated.
“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes, “me and my five hottest friends all got together and watched it in our skimpy little PJ’s, then we had a pillow fight and the losing team had to make out with each other as punishment.”
“My brain knows you’re being sarcastic,” he sighed, “but my heart wants to believe you so much.”
You just laughed and loaded up another reel for the tank.
“And my dick already believes you.”
“Ew!  Eddie, I don’t wanna know anything about your dick,” you lied.
“So, what’s the real story?” he wondered.  “Gary talked you into watching it, didn’t he?”
You nodded, more focused on the work you were trying to get done.
“Babysitter and pizza delivery boy?” he continued.
“Actually, she was just a regular college student,” you remembered.
“But she ordered it with extra sausage?” 
“Yup.”
“And the pizza wasn’t the only thing that didn’t get eaten?” he assumed.
“No, she—”
“Not her,” he corrected, voice lowering slightly, “you.”
“That’s none of your business,” you snapped.
“You were talking about it before!  With the grasshoppers!”
“Yeah, well, that’s only ‘cause George set me up,” you explained, “I don’t normally go advertising that kind of stuff.”
“I’m just saying, if Gary Thompson wasn’t absolutely horrible in bed, I’ll eat my shoe,” he announced.  
“What makes you so sure?”
“Well, for one, he just has that look about him,” he listed, “and second off, you’re too uptight for me to believe somebody was givin’ it to you right.”
You sharply shot your elbow back into his gut, making him groan and keel over partially. 
“Okay, okay, outta line,” he choked out an apology.
“Gary wasn’t bad,” you answered.  “No, it wasn’t like the romance novels— I don’t think it’s ever like that, anyways— there weren’t, like, fireworks or anything… but he wasn’t bad.  And you should go.”
“Aw, come on—” he began to protest.
“You can drive yourself home, and I’ll get a ride with Kevin.”
“Wait, please,” he whined, “I’m sorry— I shouldn’t have asked you personal stuff.  I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you!” you said in that tone that made it impossible to believe.  “You’re not supposed to be in here, it’s employees only— just leave now while the reels are in the tank and it’s still okay to open the door and let the light in—”
“I’m sorry,” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder, which made you freeze.  “Don’t make me leave, please?  We were having fun…”
“No, you were having fun,” you corrected, shutting the film tank a little more forcefully than you needed, “by pissing me off on purpose.”
“Okay, what’s your idea of having fun with me?” he asked.
You cleared your throat, because you didn’t like your first instinct when he asked that question.  “I dunno,” you stalled, “me slapping you around for a while?”
“Mm, I can get into that,” he agreed lowly.
“See?  You’re doing it again.  I can’t even say anything around you ‘cause you make it weird.”
“It’s only ‘cause you set me up,” he returned, making you shiver slightly as he turned his face to speak into your ear— he was so close, you could almost feel his lips against your skin when he whispered: “I wish you wouldn’t pretend that you hate me.”
Though it took more bravery than you thought you had, you turned to look at him, too— and you’d never seen him this up close before.  “I wish you wouldn’t pretend that it’s not obvious how I feel about you,” you challenged with a venomous smile.  
But he just smiled back at you— much sweeter than your own.  “Oh, it’s obvious,” he agreed.
Swallowing, you turned back to your work and he stood up straight again.  You knew he wouldn’t leave unless you made him, and honestly, you just didn’t feel like it.  You kept working, and he kept standing there.
“What… what do you do now?” he asked hesitantly after a couple minutes of silence, like he was afraid you’d kick him out if you remembered he was standing here.
“I put it in the developer, like I said,” you sighed; he was lucky that opening the door now would ruin the photos.
You let him stay, and thankfully he was much less irritating after that, simply watching you do your job and asking the occasional questions.  He was even impressed when you hung the photos up to try and he could start to see the image coming through.  “Wow, it just… shows up?”
You nodded.
“That’s cool.”
It might seem small, but someone giving half a fuck about your interest felt really nice.  Most people could appreciate a decent photo, but nobody ever cared about the work that went into it, least of all working in a darkroom which you’d been told many times was terminally geeky.
Guess it takes someone with interests as uncool as metal and D&D to show some respect for photography.
“Thanks,” you said quietly.
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The next day, when you came home from class (you’d gotten a ride from Pete, which you decided not to mention to Eddie), you heard the music coming from your room before you even shut the front door.
“All your life you had to stand in line, still you're standing on your feet,” you heard Eddie singing, not entirely on key as his acoustic guitar provided the chords.  He started the line over, and hit the note this time: “All your life you had to stand in line, still you’re standing on your feet, all your choices made you change your mind…”
You tried to quietly shut the door so he wouldn’t hear you, and therefore wouldn’t stop, before delicately creeping up to the half-open door.
“Don't wait for answers, just take your chances, don't ask me why…”
There was a brief guitar interlude, a pretty good adaptation of what was originally a piano solo, and you set your backpack down on the ground slowly as you propped yourself up with one hand on the wall.
“You can say the human heart is only make believe, and I am only fighting fire with fire,” you heard his voice get a little louder as you leaned by the doorway, “but you are still a victim of the accidents you leave, sure as I’m a victim of a desire…”
You bit your lip, for some reason remembering when Eddie drove you home again, your heart twisting as you convinced yourself again that what you thought maybe might have happened wasn’t about to happen.
“Yesterday you were an only child,” he sang softly, “now your ghosts have gone away—”
You leaned the wrong way and the floorboard under the carpet creaked; you winced, hearing Eddie stop.
“You out there, sis?” he called to you.
“I still don’t want you to call me that,” you replied back in an awkward mumble, stepping into his view with your arms crossed.
“I know,” he smiled.
“That’s a good album,” you nodded.  “Glass Houses— kinda nostalgic for me.”  You smiled to yourself as you remembered being twelve and thinking you were so mature and subversive for knowing that Sometimes a Fantasy was about phone sex.
“Well, I noticed you own it,” he gestured to your records shelf, which was still overstuffed now that it had to accommodate his collection as well.  
“Didn’t peg you for a Billy Joel fan, though,” you noticed.
“I mean, I dunno about fan, but I think his lyrics are kinda funny,” he smiled.  “And this album is his best work— even though it’s far too quiet for my tastes.  All for Leyna would rock so hard if it weren’t for all the keyboards.”
“Only you would complain about Billy Joel songs having too much piano,” you sighed and rolled your eyes.  “Let me guess— Louis Armstrong should ditch the trumpet, too?”
“I didn’t know you knew Jonathan Byers,” Eddie blurted out suddenly, and you knitted your eyebrows together.  “You mentioned him, when the Hellfire guys came over.”
“Right,” you hummed, wondering what made him bring that up now.  “Well, it was a friendship borne of necessity.  He was the only other photography geek at Hawkins High— he was a year behind me so we didn’t see each other that much, but yeah, we hung out.”
“So you weren’t very close?” he pressed, and you shook your head.  “Well, that’s a shame— he seemed alright, I guess.”
“You knew him?”
“I mean, know is a strong word, but… I sold to him once or twice.”
“Ah,” you nodded.  “You know, I think he told me that.”
“You never smoked with him?”
“No,” you answered.
“Darn,” he snapped his fingers, “would’ve been kinda funny if you smoked my stuff way back when.  But it’s not too late—”
“Ed, I’m not a stoner,” you insisted.
“Right, right,” he relented, “I’m just saying, we could get high together sometime…”
“Together?  That’s even worse,” you frowned.
“But you’re still coming to my show tonight, right?”
Yes, there was one part of that drive home you still talked about— when he invited you to see his band play.  You took him up on it, because apparently you had some kind of self-destructive instinct and weren’t satisfied enough with the hearing damage you’d received just from hearing Eddie rehearse alone (when he was on the Warlock, that is; you didn’t mind the acoustic, hence your eavesdropping).
Unfortunately, catching a ride to the show with Eddie meant having to get there extra early for the set-up process.  Poor Gareth seemed to have an infinite supply of drums he had to unload from his parents’ trunk; and Eddie just seemed to have way more pedals than you expected.
You got through two cranberry juices while they were still only getting ready— at a certain point you wondered if they were just trying to act like they were setting up to play, because how many cords do you need to unravel when there are only three electric instruments?!  And then there was the tuning, dear god the tuning, it went on for ages.  Did none of them think to tune before arriving?
Finally, Eddie tapped the microphone, and you sighed as you adjusted in the uncomfortable wooden chair.  “Check one two, check one two… a Slovakian hooker and a Czech one too—”
You tried not to snort at that, because it wasn’t funny, but you were desperate for any sort of entertainment after waiting that long.
“Okay, uh, hi everybody,” Eddie greeted, still fiddling with his guitar’s dials as he spoke, the mic ringing with a touch of feedback at first.  “We’re glad you could make it out…”
You looked around the ‘crowd’, which is a very generous word for six middle-aged men scattered around the tables, not even looking over their shoulders to see the band playing— plus you, right in the middle-front of the room, looking up at the ‘stage’, which is a very generous word for a half-step up covered in old dirty rugs.
“Anyways, uh…” Eddie cleared his throat.  “This first song is about drugs!”
Although that got a couple people to clap semi-sarcastically, that was all the attention they got as they started to play.  You recognized the lead guitar part as something Eddie had been working on for a while, but it sounded better with all the other instruments behind it.  The bassist, Greg, was really good, too— not that any of them were bad, but he stood out considering you’d never heard him play before.
Gareth tried to spin his drumsticks a few times and always dropped them, which made you suppress a laugh; Jeff started to sweat when harder parts of the song were coming up.
Only Eddie looked completely in his element like this.  The other three were working, but Eddie looked like he was oddly relaxed.  Some of those songs, when he played them, seemed to take him somewhere else.
You dutifully clapped after each one finished, even offering the occasional half-hearted woo!, but it was more awkward when no one else was doing it.
“Okay, this is our last song,” he announced after they’d finished playing your favorite one so far, apparently titled Devil Woman and more literal than you expected with a name like that.  Usually the women in songs were proverbial devils, but considering the line about what he wanted her to do with her long red tail, it seemed a little more than just a metaphor.
You were more disappointed than you expected to find out they were only playing six songs— but hopefully this final one would be a good cap to the night, and then you could go home and go to sleep.  
“Well, this one’s actually not our song,” he admitted, “and it’s also not our style.  Or our taste.  At all.”
You quirked an eyebrow, but waited for more.
“But it goes out to the only person who’s here to see us and not just to get trashed,” Eddie finished his preamble.  That was you, right?  He was talking about you.
Gareth counted them off, and when Eddie and Jeff started playing the riff, you recognized it, but you couldn’t place it.  Only when Eddie returned to the mic and started singing did you know what song they were playing.
“Friday night I crashed your party,” he sang with a little smirk on his face, “Saturday I said I’m sorry, Sunday came and trashed me out again…”
You know, if he’d asked first, you would’ve told him a Billy Joel cover by a crappy metal band would be horrible… but it actually almost worked?  Funny enough, it engaged the rest of the crowd more than what they’d played before— which sort of made sense, considering the look of the patrons here.
“And you told me not to drive, but I made it home alive, and you said that only proves that I’m insane.”
Jeff had come up to the microphone to sing harmonizing vocals, and while he didn’t have a beautiful voice per se (let’s be real, neither did Eddie), they were both smiling and it just made you smile, too.
“Remember how I found you there, alone in your electric chair— I told you dirty jokes until you smiled,” he went on, “you were lonely for a man, I said take me as I am, ‘cause you might enjoy some madness for a while—”
You found yourself singing along under your breath, and bouncing your leg to the beat.  You noticed some similar energy from the men at the bar, even the ones who had looked the most disinterested at first.
“If I’m crazy then it’s true, that it’s all because a’you, and you wouldn’t want me any other way…”
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munsons-maiden · 2 years
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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒    ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕
Is there a better trope than patching up each other’s wounds while silently pining for each other? I hope you enjoy this chapter!  - Love, Kiki 🖤  
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 |  Eddie Munson x female reader
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 |  THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks   to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself   adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with   Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your   world upside down. NOW. Four months have passed since the winter  night you walked out  of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when  the mysterious  headaches and nightmares return full-force and something  wicked stirs  in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you  realize  that there are two things in this world that might be more  persistent  than you’d thought: Evil…and love. The story is told  in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut, it turned into a fix it fic for ST4
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (you need to be 18+ to read this story!),   angst with a happy ending, attempted assault, bullying, canon-typical  violence  
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | ~16 k (it’s easy to split the reading into chunks if you like)
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | allusions to SMUT (only read if you’re 18+ years old! virgin!Eddie x virgin!reader), mentions  of attempted assault, canon-typical gore & violence,  blood
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.  
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬,  𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝  𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
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▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒    ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕
[Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]
With Eddie’s name ripping from your throat in a desperate scream, you barrelled through the door and into the boat house.
The first thing you saw in the half-dark inside, pale moonlight spilling through the boathouse’s open back to illuminate the scene in front of you, was Eddie.
His back was pressed against the furthest wall, cornered like a fox on a hunt by Jason and Andy. His ringed hands were wrapped around the wooden hilt of one of the old boat’s oars, raised like a spear to keep the two away from him, and his dark eyes, already wide with panic, screamed with raw terror as they met yours, as you lunged forwards – and a resounding “NO!”, ripped from his own throat to mingle with your scream when a pair of hands grabbed you from behind, pulling you back as Eddie made to dart towards you, but Jason and Andy blocked his path.
“Ed-“, you cried, but your words were cut off by a hand being clamped over your mouth, muting you, your desperate thrashing futile against this sudden chokehold you were locked in as a voice you recognized as Chance’s crooned into your ear, “Not so fast, slut.”
Even in the half-dark of the boathouse, with only the moonlight filtering in through the building’s open back to illuminate the gleeful sneer on Andy’s face, the menace glinting in Jason’s cold eyes as steely as that of the crowbar in his fist as he looked at you, you could see that Eddie was trembling, unshed tears of panic glittering in his huge dark eyes to mirror your own as your eyes locked across the small space.
“How did you get out of your cage, little birdie,” Andy drawled as Jason’s eyes bore into yours, icy shards of hatred and…something else as you struggled against Chance’s hold, his arms locked around you like creepers, holding you against him with such force that you felt the air being squeezed from your lungs, forceful enough that you feared your bones might snap any moment as his hand pressed harder against your mouth, rendering you mute and helpless. As helpless as Eddie in his own corner.
“Aw, look at this, Freak,” Jason said, ice-cold gaze never leaving yours as he twirled the crowbar in his hand, “Looks like your little slut got it bad for you, huh?”
“Maybe he fucks better than he looks,” Andy drawled with a lewd grin, eliciting a chuckle from Chance, his breath hot and wet against the back of your neck to make you flinch, more tears pricking your eyes as you watched Eddie avert his gaze from you at the memories roused by Andy’s gloating words.
Of kisses shared beneath the silver light of a star-splattered November night sky, of wandering touches and gentle whispers that ended in nothing but heartbreak and pain.
“You were a distraction, Eddie. An adventure. Did you truly think this could be real?”
“You don’t mean that. You said it meant something.”
“I never said that, Eddie. That was you. I just told you I wanted it.”
Andy Warren’s vile words were twisting the knife you’d plunged deep into Eddie’s heart that night.
The way Eddie had averted his eyes from yours at the jab hadn’t escaped Jason, told him everything he needed to know – and for a heartbeat, his lips curved into a malicious, gleeful little smirk as he drawled, “Look at that. Did the little slut have enough of you, after all? What did you think? That a cheerleader would want anything more from you than screwing around a bit?”
At the sight of defeat – pure, all-consuming pain and defeat in Eddie’s gaze as he held Jason’s, his trembling fists tightening around the oar he was holding raised between them – rage blazed through you.
You wanted to hurt Jason. You wanted to scratch out these ice-cold eyes, rip away the gleeful smirk, make him pay for all his small and big cruelties against Eddie.
But you were useless. Locked in Chance’s grip, muted by his hand clamped over your mouth, and so fucking useless.
When Eddie didn’t reply to Jason’s taunts and humiliations – didn’t reply because of course he believed them after everything you’d said yourself that night – Jason uttered a dismissive scoff.
It was still there, that chip in his pride because you’d rejected and fought him, had bitten and punched him in the face before Eddie had ripped him away from you – and no matter what he suspected had actually happened between the two of you, it was evident that you might have let Eddie The Freak Munson do what you’d denied Jason. That someone had chosen The Freak over the King of Hawkins High.
It had been nothing but a game to Jason – and Eddie had won it without ever trying to play.
You’d always suspected that Jason had been wary of Eddie; his outspokenness, his refusal to bend beneath Jason’s bullying.
That’s why Jason had been hating Eddie long before he’d thought Eddie had taken his prize possession as well – because that’s all Chrissy had been for Jason. A beautiful trophy to show off. And it dawned on you that Jason was actually scared. Because if he didn’t believe Chrissy had been in Eddie’s trailer for a simple drug deal that night…
“Come on, tell us, freak,” Jason said quietly, his eyes holding this dark edge you still couldn’t quite pinpoint as he turned away from Eddie and took a step towards you, “Tell us what the little slut let you do.”
“Yeah, don’t be shy, freak,” Chance cooed, his breath stirring your hair as you struggled, fought to angle your head as far away from his face as his restraining grip allowed, “Tell us the dirty details.”
Jason took another step towards you, his lips pulled into a sneer as a new wave of fear clawed at your chest because once again, you were trapped, the memories of that night in the woods clawing their way to the surface, of Jason’s stale breath, the tase of blood and beer and sweat as he’d forced his lips on yours, his knee forcing your legs apart as he pressed you against the picnic table – but the tip of the oar shot out to block his path as Eddie reacted, stopping Jason mid-movement.
“Don’t touch her.” Eddie’s voice was trembling with terror, choked by the tears of panic he barely managed to suppress, his fists around the wooden hilt quivering with such force that the entire oar shook as his gaze locked on Jason’s.
There was something else glittering beneath the panic in Eddie’s umber eyes. It hadn’t been there before, not even beneath Jason’s jeers.
Dark and feral.
You struggled against Chance’s chokehold once more, his arms locked around you like creepers and his hand clamped over your mouth to mute your shouts as Jason’s own hand slowly closed around the tip of Eddie’s oar.
The rotting old wood splintered away in Jason’s fist like crumpling paper before he continued to stalk towards you.
Before you realized what was happening, though, Eddie jumped forward in another desperate attempt to stop Jason, the broken end of the oar raised – and Eddie’s suppressed roar of anger turned into a cry of agony as Andy’s crowbar smashed into his left knee, sending Eddie tumbling to the ground as your own vision momentarily blurred with the force of your tears at the sight, at Eddie’s scream ringing through the air.
With a scream of your own, silenced by Chance’s hand pressing hard enough over your lips now that you tasted blood, you struggled to break free, to get to Eddie who was cowering on the floor, but it was futile. Chance’s arms around you were as unrelenting as an iron chain.
And then, Jason was in front of you, blocking Eddie from your view. “What did you let that freak do, huh?”
His voice was calm, frozen as the surface of a lake in winter, but the slight tremble beneath the surface told you it cost him a lot of restraint to keep it in check. “Did you let him do what he forced Chrissy to do? Huh?”
With Chance’s hand still clamped over your mouth to mute you, there was nothing you could do but reciprocate Jason’s glare, to lace your own tear-stained glower with all the disgust and revulsion you harbored towards him while fury flared through your veins, momentarily melting away the panic with the raw, all-consuming hatred you were feeling for this monster in front of you.
And you did what you’d done when Jason had forced his lips on yours in the woods all those months ago.
You bit him. As hard as you could.
With a pained hiss, Chance pulled his hand away from your mouth – just as Jason’s own hand shot out to grab your jaw, fingertips digging into your skin with such force that you thought the bone beneath might snap like the old oar in his vise-like grip as he inched closer, until he was close enough for you to count the smattering of freckles on his pallid skin even in the dim light of the moon.
For his breath to fan across your face. Just like back in the woods, when he’d pinned you against the picnic table.
The whites of his eyes were bloodshot. And there still was this gleam you couldn’t decipher as he breathed, “Tell me what the freak made you do. Tell me what he forced Chrissy to do.”
“You mean what you wanted to do to me?”, you hissed through gritted teeth.
“I said,” Jason repeated slowly, his grip around your jaw tightening to elicit a pained wince from you, “Tell us what the freak had you do with him.”
There was a movement in the corner behind Jason as Eddie pushed himself up from the ground with a pained hiss, gaze blazing with panic and despair and rage, something so foreign in his dark eyes, one hand still clutching the broken oar, its splintered end raised towards Jason like a stake ready to be driven through a vampire’s heart – but Andy was faster, the crowbar in his hand whirring through the air for a second time.
This time, he aimed for Eddie’s side.
“EDDIE WATCH OUT!”, you screamed, but the warning came too late.
The blow to the ribs threw Eddie against the boathouse’s wall with a groan of pain that made bile rise in your throat as the air was knocked out of him, the broken remains of the oar still clamped tightly in his fist the only thing between him and Andy now, who was twirling the crowbar in his hands with a taunting grin at Eddie. His eyes were closed, face contorted in agony as he fought against the pain, his other hand pressed over the spot on his side where Andy’s crowbar had hit home. Even from a distance, in the sparse pale light of the moon, you could see he was close to passing out, the cold sweat on his face as Andy stepped closer, the crowbar raised for another blow –
“Not yet,” Jason directed, one hand raised in the gesture of a king holding court as your tears started to fall.
“Let her go,” Eddie choked out. Pleaded. The pain and raw, primal panic straining his voice were ripping out your heart.
With a derisive snort, his hand still clamped around your jaw, Jason turned around to face Eddie.
The only thing holding him upright was the wall at his back – and the only thing separating him from Jason and his friends was the splintered end of the oar he was clinging to like a lifeline. His hair was a wild mess of dark curls framing his face, skin paler even than usual in the moonlight that made his tears of pain glitter which had started falling down his cheeks as his eyes found yours, wide and filled with horror.
“Wanna make a deal, Freak?”, Jason spat. “You let go of the oar. And I let go of your little slut.”
“No,” you breathed, your eyes beseeching Eddie to keep the oar, his only fighting chance – and with defeat swirling in his dark gaze, Eddie’s fist around the wood loosened.
And the oar clattered to the floorboards. The sound rang through the tense air like the crack of a gunshot.
“No”, you breathed when Jason let go of your jaw. And strolled back towards Eddie, who was still hunched against the wall, dark curs falling into his face as he tried to straighten himself despite the pain Andy’s crowbar had dealt, his right hand splayed against the rusty metal of the wall to gain some sort of balance, while you hissed and trashed against Chance’s still unrelenting grip, kicking and squirming…to no avail. He was so, so much stronger than you.
“You said you’d let her go,” Eddie winced, and Jason sneered.
“I said I’d let her go. Not that Chance would.”
Andy let out a gleeful little laugh.
“So, we finally get to talk,” Jason drawled, coming face to face with Eddie, who was pressing himself against the wall, chest heaving with panicked breaths as his eyes landed on yours, a fleeting second of mutual understanding, as you desperately tried to come up with a plan, a way out of this fucked up mess – and your scream barreled through the air of the boathouse as Jason’s fist collided with Eddie’s jaw, slamming the back of his head against the wall before Andy grabbed him, ripping him away from the wall and into a chokehold as Jason commanded, “Hold him. I’m not done yet. I haven’t even started.”
With a flash of grim satisfaction in his eyes, Jason’s fist hit home a second time, Eddie’s muffled groan of pain ringing through the air as he doubled over with the punch to the gut, sinking to his knees. The only thing still keeping him from falling face-first to the weathered floorboards was Andy’s grip around his arms, fingertips digging into the worn leather of Eddie’s jacket as he slumped in the stronger guy’s grip, curls spilling forward to hide his face.
“STOP IT!”, you cried, throwing yourself backwards against Chance with as much strength as his chokehold around you allowed for – but it wasn’t enough to throw him off balance, and his grip tightened so painfully around you that you were sure the bones of your upper arms would snap like twigs. Snap like poor Chrissy’s limbs under the strain of Vecna’s curse.
Jason’s eyes had turned into shards of ice as he glared down at Eddie’s slumped form.
“What did you do to Chrissy?”
His voice was calm. Dangerously calm, fissures already crawling over its frozen surface with the pressure of unadulterated hatred beneath.
And into the silence, his voice barely enough to be heard over the happy lapping sound of the waters of Lover’s Lake splashing against the posts of the boathouse, Eddie uttered on a broken whisper, “She just wanted drugs.”
The scream lodged at the back of your throat was muted with your terror when Jason’s fist hailed down for a third time, hitting the side of Eddie’s face with such force that his head snapped to the side, curls flying, before Jason’s hand shot out to grab Eddie’s jaw, bending down, closer, like he’d done with you only moments ago as he seethed, “She was not a druggie. She didn’t do that shit. So what. DID. YOU. DO. TO. CHRISSY. FREAK?”
“HE DIDN’T DO IT! HE’S INNOCENT!”, you screamed – but the words died in your throat as Jason bent down to pick up the crowbar he’d discarded on the floor, and horror, overpowering horror, clawed at your chest.
“Jason, don’t you think we should just call the cops?”
Jason’s head swiveled around to glance at Patrick, who’d kept quiet until now, kept to the shadows until you’d eventually forgotten he was even there.
He didn’t look well. There was cold sweat pooling on his face, his breathing strangely shallow as his gaze flitted from Jason to Eddie and back.
“We got him, Patrick,” Jason replied, almost gently, his tone so reasonable while he was lost in his own little world of violence and bloodlust and vengeance like a king descended into madness, “Do you think the cops will do her justice? They think Chrissy was a druggie. They said she was seeing him for drugs when he lured her to his home with his twisted games. No. The cops can have my leftovers.”
Dread settled in your guts.
A kind of dread you’d never felt before; a dread no creature of the Upside Down had ever been able to instill in you.
“I know what you did, Freak,” Jason spat, attention zoning back in on Eddie. Stray strands of his dark hair were plastered to his tear-stained face, to the blood that was running from the fresh cut on his brow where Jason’s fist had hit him. “You snapped her bones. One by one.” Jason’s voice was rising, each word spat with venom. “Enjoyed her screams, probably. Caught in your sick little game.”
The metal caught a beam of moonlight falling into the boathouse as Jason placed the crowbar under Eddie’s chin, forcing him to lift his head, and you barely managed to suppress the sob clawing its way up your chest at the sight of Eddie, bloodied and beaten and so utterly broken, the gaze in his beautiful umber eyes dimmed with the haze of the blows to his head, by the terror shining in their depths. More silent tears were rushing down his face, dripping to the denim of his vest alongside the blood as Jason crooned, “Let’s give the Freak a taste of his own medicine.” The smile tucking at his lips was nothing short of cruel. “I want to see how many bones we can break before we need a new crowbar.”
There were no screams left in you.
Only panic, and dread, hacking black talons into your insides, clawing at your throat alongside the tears that kept silently spilling down your cheeks at the sight of Eddie - sweet, gentle Eddie who’d never hurt anyone in his life; who’d chosen kindness when it would have been so easy to let the scorn and bullying he faced for simply being different turn his heart as cold and empty as Jason’s; who’d made it his task to take care of all the other outcasts and freaks, to give them a safe space to be themselves, be proud of who they were instead of succumbing to the bullies – slumped in Andy Warren’s unrelenting grip. Bleeding and bruised and dazed with pain and panic, his head slumped again as Jason pulled the crowbar away. His wild mess of curls fell over his shoulders to veil his features from your sight; only the glitter of tears on his pale cheeks and the dark rivulets of his blood were visible beneath the dark mess of his hair as they dripped onto his shirt, his denim vest, the weathered floorboards of the boathouse.
And when Jason straightened himself and raised his head to the faint beam of moonlight seeping in through a gap in the building’s roof to illuminating Jason’s face – the panic in your chest turned into horror.
Raw, unadulterated horror at what you saw in his eyes.
They weren’t simply frozen anymore.
They were wild. Livid. And you finally realized what it was you’d caught a glimpse of earlier tonight at the townhall; this thing which had been lurking beneath the surface all this time, like the scales of a sea monster glittering beneath a lake’s waves. It had broken that surface now, revealing itself in plain sight.
Madness.
Jason Carver wasn’t the calm, collected kind of monster any longer.
He wouldn’t stop, you realized.
He would kill Eddie.
And his friends…they’d let it happen.
And they’d all get away with it because Eddie…Eddie was fair game. Nobody would care – on the contrary. The mood at the townhall meeting had been clear as day. They wanted Eddie gone.
They would celebrate Jason Carver as a hero once again.
And Jason…Jason was too far gone, descended into this world of self-righteous vengeance, lost in his own madness.
Jason would kill the boy you loved more than anything in his world.
After everything you’d done to keep Eddie safe from the Upside Down and its horrors, from the Mind Flayer and the horrid swarm of these things with their wings and talons and teeth…the monster which would take Eddie was human.
“Where should I start, huh, Freak?”, Jason droned now, prodding the crowbar against the red demon face on Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt to push him backwards, against Andy, drawing out the power he was wielding. The knowledge that he had all the time in the world to do to Eddie whatever he pleased.
“I didn’t hurt her.” Eddie’s broken sob mingled with the happy gurgling noise of Lover’s Lake lapping at the posts of the boathouse, so out of place, and you could see these dark sparks of madness flashing in Jason’s eyes at the words as he stared down at Eddie, slumped on his knees, held only by Andy’s grip like a puppet on a string.
“Fine,” he spat, “Andy, we’ll start with his hand.”
“No,” you breathed, your whisper mingling with Chance’s gleeful snicker.
“Jason –“ Patrick begun, but you didn’t think Jason could even hear him. And Patrick shrunk back, ignoring the plea in your gaze to do something, to stop Jason when Andy heeded the unspoken command, this sickening grin on his face as he reached out to force Eddie’s hand to the ground, fingers splayed on the weathered wood of the floorboards, his rings glinting in the half-light of the moon.
“Your guitar days are over, freak,” Andy taunted, and beneath the mess of dark curls spilling into his face, sticking to the blood running down his temple in dark rivulets, you could see Eddie squeeze his eyes shut, preparing for the agony of his bones shattering beneath the blows of Jason’s crowbar – as the dark force of your own rage and despair finally crashed over you like a tidal wave.
At the thought of Eddie, who loved music so much, his skilled fingers plucking the strings of his beloved guitar. The memory of how he’d played hours and hours for you that Saturday, turning his heavy metal songs into slow, soothing lullabies which chased away the nightmares as you’d fallen into a deep slumber, the first peaceful one ever since last summer; all the memories and horrors chased away by Eddie’s gentle voice, the melody he coaxed from his beloved guitar. Eddie, so shy about his skill and so proud about his band, bashful as he was talking about their gigs at The Hideout. How you’d have loved to cheer for him in the front row, to watch him play. Watch him do the thing he loved the most, more even than he loved playing D&D: playing his guitar.
Eddie, whose heart you’d broken to keep him safe from the monsters of the Upside Down, only for the monster that was Jason Carver to get him now.
Time seemed to freeze as Jason drew back the crowbar for the first blow to shatter the bones in Eddie’s hand to forever steal music from him before he’d take his life as well.
With that scream of fury finally ripping free from you, your mind went blank as wrath and despair blazed through you, searing through your veins like a wildfire to consume everything in its path, burn it to down until there was nothing left of Jason and his friends but cinders for ever daring to lay a hand on Eddie.
The crowbar never hit its target.
A second scream filled the half-dark of the boathouse before Jason could smash the tool into Eddie’s fingers. Chance’s scream, as he let go of you, stumbling backwards, away from you as Jason froze mid-movement, mad eyes locking on Chance, then on you, as you barreled forwards to tackle him away from Eddie – and Jason shrunk back, shock widening his cold eyes.
It took the fragment of a moment for you to realize that it wasn’t you he was shrinking away from…but the sight of Chance, the sleeve of his letterman jacket having gone up in flames as he screamed, shrugging it off, the flames hissing as the piece of clothing hit the floor.
The dry, wooden floor.
And all Hell broke loose.
 [Monday, November 4th, 1985. THEN.]
It was there again.
The wooden door, suspended in the night sky, stars scattered around it like splatters of paint against a black canvas, their eerie silver light falling through the colorful glass, the crimson petals of the stained-glass roses.
Dread freezing you, you watched the slow movement of the brass doorknob as it was turned from the inside, watched the door swing open.
One inch, two inches, three.
Watched the spidery fingers crawl through the gap, the movement slow, careful almost, as something started to run down the warm wood, over the brass doorknob, dripping from the door’s bottom and into the endless sky like rain.
Only it wasn’t rain.
It was blood.
Seeping from the crimson petals of the stained-glass roses as the door creaked open to reveal whatever it was this horribly disfigured hand belonged to.
And finally, you snapped out of your trance. A muted scream on your lips, you turned to run – away from the door, the hand, the stained-glass roses, away –
You didn’t get far.
A gasp tore from you as you tumbled to the ground, tripping over the tangle of creeping vines on the ground, your hands shooting out to catch your fall, push yourself back up to your feet to keep running…
And your gaze fell on the vines.
On what was beneath the vines.
The pattern of black ink on pale skin.
Bats.
A swarm of them; tiny bats forever frozen in black ink.
It hadn’t been the vines you’d tripped over. It had been something underneath them.
An arm.
Dread clawing at you, you slowly turned your head.
And your eyes met a pair of umber ones, wide and hollow and empty. So horribly empty, the life snuffed out from them.
There was blood.
So, so much blood.
Covering the ground, the vines wrapped around his torn and broken body, smeared across his lips, coating your own hands.
Eddie’s blood.
And when the muted scream ripped from you, the stars started to slowly drift down from the skies.
They had never been stars.
They were particles.
Your eyes flew open.
You barely made it to the bathroom before you retched, eyes squeezed closed as the flurry of images from your nightmare hailed down upon you. They’d engraved themselves into your memories.
Sobs started racking your body as you curled up on the ground, the cool tiles of the bathroom floor pressed against your feverish cheeks as hot tears streamed down your face.
And from the headphones you were still wearing, with the Walkman clipped to the waistband of your pajama shorts because the mixtape was still the only way to find a semblance of peace, floated the tunes of I Remember You.
 [Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]
Reefer Rick’s boathouse was on fire.
The moment Chance had let go of you with a scream, you’d darted forward, ready to tackle Jason away from Eddie, slumped in Andy’s grip, bleeding and broken and half-conscious – but tackling Jason wasn’t necessary.
Face slack, he was shrinking away a step.
Not from you, you realized as you whirled around to the still screaming Chance, but from the flames climbing up the sleeves of Chance’s letterman jacket as he was frantically shrugging it off.
It all happened in the fragment of a second.
The crowbar clattering to the ground, Jason darted past you towards Chance, to help him get rid of the blazing piece of clothing with Andy following suit, letting go of Eddie who slumped forward like a puppet with its strings cut.
You caught him before he could fall over, your hands on his shoulders to stabilize him as his forehead slumped against yours while Chance was still screaming in the background as he tried to stamp out the flames devouring the fabric of his letterman jacket which had fallen to the ground, sending more and more sparks flying for the weathered old wood of the floorboards to catch fire, the whole structure a fuse ready to be set ablaze.
One of your hands came up to his cheek as you pressed, “We need to get out of here.”
At the sound of your voice, his eyes fluttered open. His gaze was dazed, unfocused as he blinked, before he groaned, “Yeah.”
“Can you walk?”
“Gotta,” Eddie pressed through gritted teeth, the word morphing into a low agonized groan spilling from him as you moved to loop his arm around your shoulder and help him get back up.
Your heart sank as your eyes darted to the boathouse’s door.
The good news was, Jason and his friends were gone.
The bad news…
In the seconds it had taken you to help Eddie get back on his feet, the fire had spread, flames climbing the wooden frame of the boathouse’s door to block the exit as smoke started to fill the space, filling your lungs to make you cough and stinging your eyes as your gaze flitted to the little old boat just as Eddie breathed, “The boat.”
“We gotta hurry,” you added.
With another pained gasp, his hand flying to his side where Andy had hit him with the crowbar, Eddie untangled himself from you to limp towards the boat, swaying precariously in his tracks – if from the pain or Jason’s blows to his head, you couldn’t yet tell – and you thanked your past self for the presence of mind to free the old thing from its lines and set it afloat already. It hadn’t even been two days ago.  
The boat swayed when you jumped inside, the heat of the fire already burning on your skin, making sweat drip down your forehead and drying the tears on your cheeks as you reached out to help Eddie climb in behind you.
The smoke filling the boat house had turned into an impenetrable wall by now, greedy flames devouring the dry, weathered floorboards as they climbed up the posts supporting the roof, towards the wooden beams above, like creeping vines on a trellis.
It wouldn’t take long until they’d consumed the posts – and then the roof, the whole structure, would collapse right over the two of you.
“Try to start the motor,” Eddie choked, suppressing a cough as he limped towards the vessel’s front and dug out an oar out from underneath the assortment of ropes coiling on the boat’s floor, this one gladly more durable than the one he’d grabbed to keep Jason away. With his features contorted in pain beneath the sweat and tears and the blood streaming down his face from the gash on his brow, Eddie begun to row as your fingers were digging into the rope tying the boat to its pole on the boathouse’s ground, the material scraping and biting your skin as your trembling fingers frantically worked to loosen the knot, the smoke choking you, singeing your lungs.
The knot loosened.
And not a second too soon, if the low, resounding groan of the wooden beams of the roof above was any indication as you gripped the floorboards and pushed with all the strength you could muster, giving the boat an extra nudge to get out of this chaos of smoke and cinders and flames.
A trembling exhale of relief escaped you when the cool air of the spring night hit your sweaty skin as Eddie steered the boat out of the burning boathouse and onto the lake, the clear night air filling your burning lungs as you whirled around to look at Eddie.
He’d stopped rowing, his fists clamped around the oars hilt while he looked as if he were fighting hard to remain conscious.
For a heartbeat, the two of you stared at each other in shaken silence, your labored breaths filling the cool night air, the water lapping at the boat with happy gurgling sounds as your eyes scanned Eddie’s blood-smeared face, illuminated by the orange glow of the small inferno devouring the boathouse behind you, his eyes wide with shock, the reflection of the flames dancing within them as he breathed, voice coarse from the smoke of the fire, “Jesus H Christ, how…how the fuck…?”
He was interrupted as, with a resounding groan that echoed across the lake and made you whirl around to face the shore, the boathouse collapsed. Sparks rose into the night alongside the smoke, the heat of the fire prickling on your skin as smoke rose into the air.
“Let me do that,” you said softly, reaching out to grab the second oar from the bottom of the boat, the assortment of empty cans, sandwich wrappers, ropes and boxes Reefer Rick had collected there clattering around on the ground as you pulled the oar towards you.
Just as a shout pierced the night, ringing across Lover’s Lake and the small space Eddie’s rowing had brought between your boat and the shore, and your heart plummeting to the bottom of the lake as you recognized the owner of the voice.
“HEY FREAK!”
Your head whipped around towards the four figures standing on the grass of the shore, illuminated against the glow of the flames devouring the remains of the boathouse.
Jason and his friends.
“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?!”
“Shit,” Eddie breathed. It was an accurate assessment.
Your heart plummeted to the ground of Lover’s Lake when, against the backdrop of the dying flames, Jason shrugged off his own letterman jacket and dove into the water, a second one of his friends following suit while the other two remained on the shore.
You didn’t waste another second.
Your hand shot out to pull the engine’s string and get the rusty old boat motor started, but nothing happened. There wasn’t even a cough from the engine.
Whirling around to face Eddie again, your hands wrapped around the hilt of your oar and your gazes met, wide and wild and panicked in the moonlight as understanding passed between the two of you, and Eddie jumped to his feet, the boat swaying and pain contorting his features as he climbed towards the back to switch places as you plunged your oar into the water and started paddling.
“It – doesn’t – work,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth, anger and pain and despair lacing his coarse voice as with each word, he ripped at the string, each pull more forceful than the next until you feared he’d just rip it out.
“Maybe try a bit gentler?”, you panted, muscles burning from the exertion of rowing the boat, the lake splashing with every draw of your oar as sweat ran down your back underneath your sweatshirt.
Eddie threw you an indignant glance over his shoulder which would have been hilarious, hadn’t it been for the blood smeared across half his face and the jocks in the water set on hunting him down to kill him.
“What do you want me to, sweet talk it? Fine,” he turned back to the rusty old boat motor, a trembling hand patting the metal with barely contained frustration and panic as he implored, “Please. Please, okay? You gotta help us out here, sweetheart, ‘kay?”, before pulling the string again, gentler this time, as the ghost of a relieved smile played on your lips at the realization that he still had that gallows humor, even now, broken and bleeding and hunted.
The engine, though, stayed dead.
And the noise of splashing water told you Jason and his friends were drawing closer quickly. Far quicker than you were able to row the boat out of their reach.
“Almost got him!”, Jason’s shout mingled with the splashing sound of the lake, the frantic sloshing noise of your oar cutting through the water.
With a hissed, “Fuck,” Eddie snapped again, panic taking the wheel again as a fresh wave of adrenaline surged through your own system to propel your movements to paddle faster.
“Come on,” Eddie cursed, begged, one hand patting the rusty old motor as he pulled the string, over and over again, “Come on. Come. ON! HELP US OUT HERE, SON OF A BITCH!”
The engine answered with a weak splutter as Eddie slammed his hand against the metal with a frustrated, “No?! FINE!”, before he grabbed the second oar and started helping you row, panic and adrenaline taking the sharp edge of the pain he was undoubtedly feeling as he plunged the oar into Lover’s Lake – but it was too late.
Jason had reached the boat. Eddie jumped to his feet, the oar raised and ready to pounce down, his eyes trained on Jason as he roared, “Hey, stay back, there! STAY BACK!”
There was something new in his voice, feral despite the tremor of fear laced within as he wielded the oar, placing himself between you and the spot where Jason was trying to clamp his hand around the boat’s edge and pull himself out of the water as Andy Warren drew closer on your own side of the boat, and with a fresh wave of fury, you rose to your feet, your back pressed against Eddie’s and the dripping oar raised in your hands in a silent warning to stay back as Eddie thundered, “I SAID STAY BACK!”
“What you gonna do with that oar, slut?”, Andy drawled, his hand clamping around the boat’s edge to pull himself up as you let the oar hail down, the wood smashing into Andy’s hand with enough force to hear the crack of bones underneath. Andy’s scream made Eddie whirl around as the jock let go of the boat’s rim, and grim satisfaction barreled through you at the echo of his pained outcry in the spring air, the picture of Eddie, slumped in Andy’s grip as he splayed his hand on the floor, ready for Jason’s crowbar to smash into Eddie’s hand still fresh.
“Fuck around,” you dared, “And find out.” And that dark, twisted part inside of you wished Andy would do exactly that, simply for the satisfaction of doing to Andy what he’d have done to Eddie.
But Jason’s shout rang through the air – directed at Patrick, this time.
“Patrick! Hey, Patrick! What are you doing?”
Your head whipped around to the other side of the boat, to Jason, who’d stopped swimming towards you his attention on Patrick a few feet behind him in the water. Patrick’s was gaze trained on something in the distance, above the surface, eyes wide with…terror.
“Come on, Patrick! We almost got him!”
Patrick didn’t react.
And then…he was pulled under.
“ANDY!”, Jason’s shout for help pierced through the night, a splash from your side of the boat telling you Andy was heeding the call while you stared, at the ripples in the surface of Lover’s Lake where Patrick had vanished, as if he’d been pulled under, Eddie still as a statue beside while Jason’s shouts for Patrick rang through the new, deadly silence which had settled over Lover’s Lake.
There was a moment of shell-shocked stillness – before Patrick…was lifted out of the water and into the skies, like a doll in the invisible grip of one of those claw cranes at the arcade as dread coiled in your guts, your free hand shooting out to grab Eddie’s arm in silent terror as all four pairs of eyes stared at Patrick, suspended in the skies.
As his bones…his bones started to snap.
One by one.
You didn’t know who of you moved first, whether it had been Eddie or you to take the first step backwards to shrink away from the horror of Patrick’s body being twisted like a ragdoll in the sky – but it was enough to tip the boat.
Neither of you screamed as you tumbled backwards into the lake.
 [Wednesday, November 6th, 1985. THEN.]
It was the third lunchbreak in a row you’d spent outside in the cold, hidden beneath the bleachers at the edge of the sports field, your gaze trained on the tree line of the patch of woods, the branches naked as they reached into the steely skies.
You hadn’t eaten.
You hadn’t slept.
There was no way anymore for you to fall asleep without Eddie’s mixtape – and no way to stop crying as soon as you listened to the songs he’d picked for you.
You knew you’d have to return to the cafeteria again at some point, face the fact that you’d see Eddie again, across the room. Make up an excuse for Robin and Nance as to why you’d avoided them for the past few days.
But not today. There was no strength left in you for that.
Back in the building, the halls still empty because lunchbreak wasn’t over yet, you rounded the corner to get the books for the next period out of your locker –
And froze in your tracks at the sight of the lonely figure walking down the hallway towards you.
It was the first time you saw him ever since Saturday. Since that November night.
He looked miserable.
His hair was unkempt as if he’d run through a hurricane, messier than you’d ever seen it, and the wrinkled flannel dress shirt he was wearing underneath his leather jacket looked as if he’d grabbed it from the laundry without realizing it was his uncle’s, the yellow-green-blue checked pattern so out of place on him, a weird contrast to the even more wrinkled DIO shirt beneath.
There were shadows under his eyes, deep enough to tell you he might have even gotten less sleep than you had over the past few days, and his eyes, those beautiful umber eyes…they were hollow as he stared back at you, as frozen as a deer in the headlights.
For a few heartbeats, the two of you stayed like this, gazes locked, the memories of everything you’d shared beneath the myriad of stars scattered in the November night skies above coming alive in your minds. And everything that happened after.
There was nothing you wanted more than run into his arms.
To tell him how sorry you were. That you loved him; more than there had been stars in the night sky.
To turn back the clock, to put this moment with him beneath the stars into a tiny little snow globe frozen in time, safe and sound beneath the shield of polished glass, forever.
To tell Eddie Munson that he’d left a beautiful tattoo of fingerprints on your skin, his kiss on your lips and his handprint on your heart.
You whispered the words in your mind as you stared back at him, into those beautiful umber eyes.
For these fleeting heartbeats, you stood frozen in this empty hallway. Eddie on one end, you on the other.
Worlds apart, hearts broken into a million pieces still calling out for each other.
With a trembling inhale you wouldn’t have noticed hadn’t you already known him like you knew the pages of your favorite book, Eddie turned.
And walked away.
 [Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]
You’d thought you’d seen it all.
A parallel dimension. Monsters with faces opening up to reveal rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Shadows that lived, possessed.
Blood turning black.
Doors suspended in the night skies amidst a sea of scattered stars.
But this…what had just happened with Patrick…it was the most horrid scene you’d ever been forced to witness.
The sound of his bones snapping would stay with you until the end of your days.
And when you imagined Eddie, who’d been so horribly oblivious and left in the dark about the terrors bleeding into Hawkins, witnessing the same with Chrissy…you wanted to retch. And you wanted to weep.
But there wasn’t time either of these things as, lungs and arms burning from the exertion of steering the boat to shore, you let your oar clatter to the bottom of the boat, rallying every last dreg of strength left in your body to drag yourself out of the boat and onto the soft grass of the lakeside alongside Eddie. Your knees gave in and you sunk to the ground, water plastering your soaked clothing to your body, your hair to your face, sending shivers through you in the cool spring night air.
“Shit,” Eddie breathed as he let himself fall to the ground beside you, burying his face in his trembling hands as he hunched over. “Holy fucking shit.”
Like you, he was soaked from the plunge into Lover’s Lake.
The two of you were lucky that it had been a mild month so far, the spring sun having warmed the waters of Lover’s Lake to a point where, despite it still being cold, it wasn’t dangerously cold anymore. You were grasping for silver linings.
“Jesus. Fuck, man,” Eddie breathed again. “Jesus fucking CHRIST.” It was the softest, most contained scream you’d ever heard anyone utter as he raised his head from his hands. The gash on his brow was still bleeding, half of his face smeared with blood, wide eyes flitting to a point behind you, and you turned to follow his line of sight.
To the glimmer in the distance, the remnants of Reefer Rick’s boathouse, the dying flames setting the night aglow with their orange hue between the trees.
And with the adrenaline slowly fading from your system it dawned on you what had just happened.
You’d set this fire.
You’d burned down Reefer Rick’s boathouse.
With your…with your what? Your mind? Like El? That wasn’t possible.
“So, um,” Eddie spoke up, his voice a few pitches higher than usual, his bottom lip trembling as he was trying really hard to compose himself, “Where did. Uh. Where did the inferno come from?” He raked his fingers through his sodden curls, his hand trembling so hard that you feared he might rip out a few strands, the heel of his hand smearing the blood that was still seeping from the cut on his brow where Jason’s fist had hit home.
It dawned on you that he’d been out for long enough to not realize what had happened. Hell, you hadn’t realized it yourself – but Eddie had no clue.
You needed it to stay this way. Until you figured out what was happening. Why it was happening.
For a heartbeat, all you wanted to do was scream and holler at the night skies.
It didn’t stop.
It fucking didn’t stop.
You replied with the first thing that came to your mind. “Lightning?”
Eddie lifted his head to glance up at the cloudless night sky arching above. “Uh-huh.”
You glanced down, at your palm. At the pattern of blisters on your skin, left from when the doorhandle had singed you about an hour ago as you’d broken free of the supply closet Jason and his friends had locked you in.
It hadn’t been a hallucination.
Something had happened.
You quickly closed your fist, pulling the sodden sleeve of your sweatshirt down to cover your hand, praying Eddie hadn’t noticed.
Though before either of you could utter a word to break the shellshocked silence, the distant wail of sirens pierced the tranquility of the night.
Drawing closer, as your gaze found Eddie’s, the panic returning full-force.
Jason had made it to the shore with Patrick’s body. And he’d called the cops.
“We need to get away from the shore,” you breathed, jumping back to your feet as fast as your legs allowed for.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathed, a half-whisper, half-sob, muffled as he buried his face in his hands again.
Silent sobs were racking him, tremors running through him as he vehemently shook his head, teetering at the edge of a full-blown breakdown.
Because Eddie Munson’s official body count, as far as the police were concerned…would now be three.
Triple murder.
There had been many who’d faced Death Penalty for less.
You needed to get him away from here. To a new hiding place until Robin would return with the others, figure out what had happened, and – hopefully – find you. And you needed to do it now.
“Can you run?”, you urged, grabbing Eddie’s arms to help him back to his feet, the pained gasp ripping from him at the movement making your heart bleed, but you needed to move.
“I’ll make do,” he grimaced, a hand shooting out to press over his side where the crowbar had hit him, and you realized that you’d have to take care of his injuries at some point.
“Uh. What are you doing?”, Eddie inquired as you climbed back into the boat and started to rummage through the stuff which had collected at the bottom.
Sandwich wrappers, ropes, a soaked pack of cigarettes – and a triumphant little huff escaped you as you lifted a half-full bottle of whiskey into the air.
“I mean,” Eddie began slowly, swaying before he rested his hands on the boat’s ledge to support his weight as his confused frown deepened, “Some problems might be delayed if you drink them away but I’m pretty sure this isn’t one of them.”
You tucked the whiskey bottle under your arm before you delved back to the assortment of stuff Reefer Rick had collected in the boat as you announced, “We need to take care of your wounds. And this –“ you reached for a little tin box, your determined smirk widening a little as you opened it to find an assortment of fish-hooks and fishing lines and what looked like actually clean cotton handkerchiefs within, a switchblade on the side, probably for gutting fish, “This will do.”
You jumped out of the boat, storing the tin box of Reefer Rick’s fishing tools in the front pocket of your soaked sweatshirt, the bottle of whiskey still tucked under your arm as you grabbed Eddie’s elbow to support his weight.
“Time to go.”
“Anything in mind?”, he questioned, the wail of the sirens rising to a whole chorus as the first flickers of flashing police lights illuminated the shore in the distance.
“The woods? We’re…” You cut yourself off at the sudden burst of memories flooding you as you finally recognized your surroundings.
You’d been here before, on this side of the lake. Last year. On a beautiful sunny September day, one of the last days of summer. Skipping classes with Eddie after a flood of condoms had poured from your locker under the eyes of the entire crowded hallway because it hadn’t been enough anymore for Jason and his friends to simply smear the word SLUT across your locker door.
Another day, another time, on which Eddie had saved you.
Tears stung your eyes and stole your words at the memory of the summer sun filtering through the crowns of the trees, painting streaks of milk-chocolate brown into Eddie’s dark curls as he’d grinned at you, nearly toppling over a tree root sticking up from the path.
And for a split second, you could read it all in Eddie’s dark eyes, reflecting the very same memories, a mirror image of the heartbreak in your own chest, before he averted his gaze.
“Skull Rock,” he said quietly. “Let’s hide there.”
 [Saturday, November 9th, 1985. THEN.]
Your breath was forming little clouds of white lace in the air as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, the fabric of your winter coat rustling softly. But no coat in the world could ever shield you from the kind of cold you were feeling, had been feeling, for the past seven days.
A cold seeping through you from within, colder than the Mind Flayer had ever felt when it nestled in your mind. Because this kind of cold…it was festering in your heart.
And yet it wasn’t enough to finally numb the pain.
Seven days.
It had been seven days since the night Eddie had kissed you, since his caresses had sent you into blissful delirium as he’d whispered all these sweet nothings to you – only that they hadn’t been sweet nothings. He’d meant them all.
Seven days since you’d broken Eddie’s heart and your own to keep him safe.
It hurt. And it would never stop hurting.
Seven days since the old nightmares had been replaced by a whole new kind of horror.
Of the moment the light in Eddie’s beautiful umber eyes had shattered into a myriad of pieces alongside your own heart underneath the force of your cruel words.
Of the Mind Flayer’s spidery shadow looming in the thunderclouds, watching Eddie.
Of the door, and of Eddie. Caught in a swarm of these beasts, their eerie screeches fading against the agonized scream ripping from Eddie as these things pounced on him, tearing and ripping and devouring.
The only thing keeping these things at bay was the mixtape Eddie had made you.
A cruel reminder of everything you’d lost. Every beautiful what-if that would only ever stay a daydream. And yet, you couldn’t stop listening to it, over and over again, because this mixtape…it was all you’d ever have left of him.
He’d move on. Find someone else, someone who didn’t have a stain on their soul and darkness in their heart. And the memory of you would blur over time, the ache numbed until there would be nothing left but a fading scar.
And above all else, he would live.
He would finally graduate. Walk that stage and snatch the diploma, probably flipping principal Higgins the bird as he walked off stage. He’d read Lord Of The Rings, plan campaigns and play D&D with his friends, play his beloved guitar.
And you would be the girl who’d so cruelly broken his heart on a cold November night, underneath a sea of glittering stars.
The tears had already started falling when you rested your back against the wooden top of the picknick table, eyes trained on the skies peeking through the bare branches of the trees surrounding the little clearing as your thumb, numb with the cold, found the button of your Walkman to press play and the first notes of I Remember You floated through your headphones, the first song on the mixtape.
You wondered if he was on the roof of his trailer right now, gazing up at the same stars.
Thinking of you.
Beyond the blur of tears, the first few shooting stars bled from skies, falling in showers of silver light and scattering dust in their wake.
Yes, you’d never be anything more but the girl who broke Eddie Munson’s heart.
But Eddie Munson would forever stay the boy you loved with all of yours.
 [Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]
“Careful,” you winced at Eddie’s pained flinch as he let himself fall down onto the mattress someone had left in the slim spot between the two boulders forming Skull Rock, before you knelt down on the carpet of dead leaves in front of him.
The short run to Skull Rock – it couldn’t have been more than ten, fifteen minutes, drawn out with the limp in Eddie’s walk slowing the two of you down as you’d stumbled through the thicket – hadn’t done much to dry the two of you.
Just like your own, the water of Lover’s Lake was still soaking Eddie’s clothes, darkening the denim of his vest above the leather jacket and plastering the Hellfire shirt to his chest. Up close, you could see the outline of a chest tattoo beneath, making you wonder what it might be.
His hair falling around his pale face in a wet mess, as black as the night sky above in its sodden state.
“Yup,” Eddie agreed through gritted teeth, rings glittering in the beams of moonlight seeping through the canopy of leaves above as he pressed his hands over the spot on his side where Andy Warren had hit him with the crowbar, before he quipped, “Wait, careful with the wounds or the mattress?”
“Both,” you chuckled, and Eddie’s mirthless little smirk turned a little less mirthless as he glanced at the faded moldy fabric of said mattress before he deadpanned, “I guess if I don’t die of internal bleeding or shit within the next hour, one of the thirteen STDs I just caught by touching that mattress will finish the job.”
He looked horrible. There was still blood running down from the cut on his brow where Jason had hit him, running down the side of his face, strands of his wet hair plastered to the dark crimson rivulets.
Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest at the memory of Eddie trying to keep Jason away from you, so fierce in his attempts to protect you when it had been him they’d hunted, his bones they’d tried to break.
His life they’d wanted to take.
Robin’s words flitted back to you, spoken only hours ago.
I see the way you look at him when you think nobody’s watching. And I see the way he looks at you.
Then, you’d been certain that whatever Robin had seen in Eddie’s eyes when he was looking at you had been nothing but residual hurt.
But the way he’d fought to protect you at the boathouse, the ferocity in his eyes…
“Okay, let me see,” you said softly, breaking your train of thought as you gestured for Eddie to remove his hands from the spot on his side, scooting closer until you were kneeling on the filthy mattress beside him, your knees brushing his thigh as Eddie gave you a nod.
Biting your lip, you grasped the hem of his Hellfire shirt, carefully peeling the sodden fabric away to reveal the damage Andy’s crowbar had done, tears pricking your eyes again at the memory of Eddie’s agonized groan when the metal had knocked the wind from his lungs.
But before you could lift the shirt far enough to assess the skin over his ribs, Eddie’s hands shot out, gently grasping your wrist to stop you mid-movement.
The touch sent showers of sparks zapping along your nerves to make your broken little heart sing with his touch, and Eddie breathed, “Wait. What about you, monster slayer? Are you hurt?”
How was it possible, for your heart to painfully squeeze yet soar all at the same time at the sound of the old nickname, as softly spoken as Eddie always had despite all the pain you’d caused him? The way he still cared so deeply while believing your lies, that he’d been nothing but a distraction?
“I’m not the one who got beaten up with a crowbar,” you replied quietly while an incredulous little smile curved your lips.
“Yeah,” Eddie quipped, “I got a lot more respect for pinatas now.” Before you could utter a reply, his expression softened even further, concern darkening his gaze as he slowly turned your hand in his, scanning the pattern of blisters on your palm, and for a moment, your heart sank at the thought that he might have seen more than he’d let on, had connected some of the dots. Instead, he softly asked, “Does it hurt?”
“No,” you lied, “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“You’ve never been a good liar, you know,” Eddie said gently, his thumb flicking over your wrist, grazing the skin over your racing pulse in the softest fleeting touch as the lump in your throat grew while your mind flitted back to that November night.
“There’s never been an us.”
“I don’t believe you. Not a single word.”
Before you could muster a reply, Eddie added, “What happened at the townhall meeting?”
You swallowed, focusing on his fingertips still holding your wrist, the way your heart was fluttering like a frantic little bird in the confines of your ribcage. “They found out about Reefer Rick’s. I wanted to warn you, but they noticed me and locked me up.” When you glanced up again, there was this spark of dark ferocity settling in Eddie’s gaze, mingling with the softness as he asked, his voice so gentle, “Did they hurt you?”
“As I said…I’m not the one who got beaten with a crowbar.”
Because he’d dropped the oar, his only means of defense, for the fragile hope that Jason might have let you go. Without a single second of hesitation.
“Let me see,” you repeated softly, and Eddie let go of your wrist, leaving behind an empty feeling on your skin, in your chest, that old ache which had never numbed in the first place flaring anew as your gaze caught on the sliver of his skin already exposed. The v-line on his stomach running down towards his belt buckle; the shadow of his happy trail dipping below the waistband of his ripped jeans.
What the fuck is wrong with you, the little voice in your mind chided – the rational part, probably – to snap you out of your ogling as you quickly focused on an empty can of pringles someone had discarded at the foot of one of the boulders, taking a few moments to collect yourself, which were interrupted as Eddie inquired, panic rising in his voice, “Do you really think it’s that bad?”
No, I’ve just been busy ogling you like a creep, the voice in your mind replied, and you cleared your throat before you quickly replied, “No, just…”
I can’t stand to see you in pain. How hypocritical, considering you’d put a matching set of bruises on his heart four months ago.
Opting to cop out of this one, you stayed quiet as, with a careful movement, you lifted the rest of the soaked Hellfire shirt to expose Eddie’s upper body – and winced at the sight of the bruise already blooming beneath his pale skin like the petals of a black flower, right below his ribcage.
“Shit,” Eddie assessed.
“It’s…it’s not that bad,” you tried, meeting Eddie’s gaze as he cocked an eyebrow and clarified drily, “No. Shit, as in, goddamn it can you stop looking at me as if my guts were falling out.”
“I’m sorry,” you replied, the ghost of a smile playing on your lips to mirror his own, “Just…does it feel like something is ruptured? Like, your spleen or a kidney?”
“You truly know how to take the edge off things, huh,” Eddie retorted, but the end of his sentence was cut short with a hiss of pain as you let your fingertips graze over the black bruise, pulling away with a wince. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I thought I’d feel if your ribs were broken.”
“Fuck,” Eddie breathed, already moving to bury his face in his hands again before he seemed to remember the still bleeding cut on his brow and let his hand sink to his side with a frustrated groan, before he uttered meekly, “Can you check? If my ribs are broken?” He sounded so defeated. So devastatingly tired and defeated and scared.
“It’ll hurt,” you warned.
“It already does,” he retorted. He had a point.
You reached out again, fingertips gently grazing the edges of the bruise, pressing down a little as you followed the curve of his ribcage, biting the inside of your cheek to keep it together at Eddie’s pained sharp intake of breath while your fingertips wandered over his skin, trailing the outline of his ribs to examine the bone beneath as Eddie threw his head back, eyes closed tightly as he seemed to bite back an anguished groan that turned into a relieved exhale when you pulled your fingers away again.
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” you stated, before you gently pulled the shirt back down, “But we need to take care of that cut now,” you added, already pulling the tin box of fishing supplies out of your sweater’s pocket, placing them on forest floor beside you, next to the bottle of whiskey.
It wasn’t exactly a first aid kit, but it was better than nothing.
“Uh. What are you doing with these?”, Eddie inquired cautiously as he watched you rummage through the tin box with Rick’s fishing supplies, inspecting the assortment of fish-hooks while his expression grew more and more alarmed.
“That cut on your brow will need stitches,” you announced, and Eddie’s face grew a little paler.
“Need, like, ‘or else you’ll die’? Because I don’t know if I can stomach you patching up my face with a fish-hook. There’s only so much I can take in a single night.”
“It’s too deep for the bleeding to stop on its own. And we don’t want you to get blood poisoning.”
You raised one of the fish-hooks to your face, inspecting it.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathed, observing you bend the fishing hook into the crescent shape of a surgical needle with a nauseated stare before he slowly added, “I dunno if I should ask. But you look like you’re not doing this for the first time.”
You gave him a little smirk as you proceeded to thread the fishing line through the fish-hook-turned-makeshift-needle.
“I patched up Steve Harrington with a bottle of vodka and dental floss.”
“Holy shit. Was it…was it one of the Demodogs you told me about?”
“Nope. It was Billy Hargrove.”
“Huh. I wonder who won that fight,” Eddie muttered under his breath, a trace of bitterness in his tone.
“It was Max,” you stated, snickering at Eddie’s crestfallen expression before you added, “She sedated Billy.”
“I knew the little redhead was a tough cookie but Jesus, I had noooo idea.” He sounded as if he couldn’t exactly decide whether to be bewildered, scared, fascinated or all three. “Maybe we should just sic her on Vecna. Let her take Sinclair’s infamous little sister and let ‘em hand that son of a bitch’s ass to him.”
“Wait.” You gave him a quizzical stare. “You know Erica Sinclair?”
“Shit, I don’t know the girl. I got burned by her. Destroyed.” Eddie chuckled. “She actually ended the Vecna in my campaign, come to think of it. Rolled a natural twenty last second.”
“What is Erica Sinclair doing in Hellfire?”, you teased.
“Have you ever tried to tell her no?”, Eddie deadpanned, cocking an eyebrow.
You snorted. “Hell, no. I’m not mad.”
“She was the sub for Lucas. He copped out for a game of balls-and-laundry-baskets that night. That was a few days ago, actually.”
“Oh. Yeah. He actually dealt the winning blow,” you said with a smile – but the giddy feeling in your chest about joking around with Eddie like you’d used to do died and wilted like a bouquet of flowers at the thought of that November night. Of the basketball game he’d visited just so you wouldn’t have to feel alone as you cheered for Jason.
Your eyes burned as you fiddled with the fish-hook in your hand, and the awkward silence which descended over the two of you made it evident Eddie had been plunged into the very same memory.
Of kisses beneath the glittering stars that ended in pain and heartbreak, your words the match to set all the bridges between the two of you ablaze, burn them down to nothing but cinders.
Just when you thought the quiet was too much to bear, though, Eddie stated, “So, Steeeeve Harrington got bested by Billy Hargrove.” There was a gloating little smirk tugging at his lips as he seemed to mull this over.
You couldn’t hold it against him. Before Nancy, Steve had been a total jackass. You’d loathed him with a passion as well. But Steve wasn’t that person anymore.
“He’s a nice guy, you know,” you smiled, “He changed. Nancy changed him.”
Something else flashed in Eddie’s eyes as he let out a little scoff.
“Yeah. Sure. If you say so.”
You knew the roots of Eddie’s disdain for Steve, his wariness for all the people who were like Steve. Steve himself might not have bullied Eddie – but it didn’t change the fact that Steve, once upon a time, hadn’t exactly met people like Eddie with kindness.
“I didn’t know you were friends with Harrington,” Eddie said quietly, his gaze trained on the links of his bracelet he was fiddling with.
“He’s one of my best friends,” you said. “Has been for the past two years.”
There was a flash of hurt in Eddie’s dark eyes as he nodded, dark curls spilling into his face. They were slowly beginning to dry.
You were my best friend, you wanted to tell Eddie, but the words were stuck in your throat.
How long could the two of you continue it, this weird dance around the topic of what had happened that night? Of what you’d done; why you’d done it?
“Nancy changed him,” you tried again. “He was a jerk, but he’s one of the good guys now.”
Eddie let out a breath that sounded like another barely suppressed scoff before he replied, “Yeah. Good for him.” And when he finally glanced up at you, you could tell he was irritated. Annoyed, even.
You gave him a little frown. “For someone who hates being put in a neat little box of prejudice,” you countered, “You’re certainly doing it a lot, yourself.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly, his gaze unwavering as it rested on you, “The last time I got involved with the popular crowd, it didn’t exactly end well for me.”
It was like a punch to the gut. But you deserved it. You deserved all of his resentment. You’d deserve all of his hate either, if Eddie Munson had been capable of it.
He continued, “I mean, I was probably stupid to invite Chrissy Cunningham of all people to my trailer for a fucking drug deal, but she was pretty persistent about the Special K and I didn’t exactly add a boogeyman from a parallel dimension framing me for murder as a possible risk factor.”
“Chrissy,” you replied hollowly, your mind finally catching up as you pulled out one of the cloths from the tin box.
His prior words had never been intended to be a jab at you.
The relief flooding you made a lump grow in your throat before you reached down to grab the bottle of whiskey, pouring a generous amount of the clear liquid over the cloth in your hand before you glanced up at Eddie.
He was watching you, his expression searching as you raised the whiskey-soaked piece of fabric, as if he was waiting for you to say something.
“I’ll clean you up before doing the stitches,” you said softly, “Can you – lie down? Preferably in this little beam of moonlight.”
The open bottle of whiskey in one hand, the cloth in the other, you gestured at the small patch pale light the weak beams of moonlight seeping through the crown of the trees above cast onto the filthy mattress as you added, “Because else, I won’t see shit.”
Even in the half-dark of the nightly woods, you could see the queasiness in Eddie’s expression as he gave the fish-hook you’d bent and placed on the lid of the box on the ground an alarmed side-eye.
“Eddie?”, you repeated softly when he didn’t react, “Are you ready?”
“What’s the alcohol level in that whiskey?”
You tilted your head, squinting at the label to discern the small print in the weak lighting. “Um, sixty per cent. That’s good enough to clean a wound –“
You cut yourself off as Eddie grabbed the bottle from your hand, throwing his head back as he took two long swigs of the amber liquid, his hand holding the bottle shaking like leaves before he set it down and pressed it back into your hand with a small, curt nod that looked as if he were currently fighting hard to keep it together as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
You wanted to take his hand, to take him into your arms and tell him everything would be fine, to kiss away all the cuts and bruises and tell him how brave he’d been back at the boathouse.
But of course, you couldn’t do that.
Heart heavy, you watched Eddie lie down on the mattress with another pained wince at the movement as he shuffled to position himself so the small patch of moonlight was hitting his face, his dark eyes intently following your movements as you inched closer, cloth and whiskey bottle at the ready.
He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed, “’kay, ready when you are.”
Placing the piece of cloth so the whiskey wouldn’t run into his eye, you raised the bottle, pouring a generous amount of the amber liquid over the gash in Eddie’s brow, biting the inside of your cheek to keep focused on the task at hand as his hiss of pain filled the silence of the nightly woods while the whiskey ran down the blood-coated side of his face.
“Fuck, that burns,” he choked through gritted teeth, his hands curled into fists at his sides as he fought his reflex not to shrink away.
“It’s okay,” you soothed, pouring some of the whiskey over your own hands before you started to clean the side of his face, fingertips grazing his skin to gently brush away the stray curls which were sticking to the already drying blood which kept seeping from the gash, “It’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?”, Eddie breathed, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours.
Even knowing him as well as you did, it was still such a stark contrast to see Eddie, who seemed so menacing and rough with his tattoos, his wild mane, his ripped denim and worn leather, look so small and scared and vulnerable.
And it dawned on you that even now, even with everything that had happened between the two of you, Eddie – who carried his weirdness, his loudness, his outspoken endearing theatrics like armor – still felt comfortable enough around you to strip himself of all these things. To allow himself to be vulnerable in front of you.
An overwhelming surge of love, of affection and fierce protectiveness flooded you. Gently, you brushed another stray strand of wet hair from his forehead, and Eddie’s gaze turned strangely intense as he glanced up at you.
“We’ll fix this mess,” you promised. “Stitch by tiny stitch.”
It was clear neither of you was talking about his injuries any longer.
There was a heartbeat of silence filling the space between the two of you, broken by the distant hoot of an owl, a fluttering of wings mirroring the flutter of your own heart as you lost yourself in Eddie’s dark gaze – before reality came crashing back in, and you raised the fish-hook.
“I’ll make it quick.”
“Scars are pretty fucking metal, come to think of it. And it can’t be worse than the Kitchen Scrapper.” Eddie contemplated with the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
You blinked. “The – the who?”
“That’s the guy from the trailer park who did all my sweet ol’ tatties.”
“You – you got tattooed by a guy named the Kitchen Scrapper,” you repeated.
“He was the only one who’d to do them for a few bucks. He made his tattoo gun himself.”
“Why is he called the Kitchen Scrapper?”
Eddie pursed his lips as he thought about that. “I have noooo idea. The guy works at the slaughterhouse down in Pine Mills so come to think of it, something like, I don’t know, The Butcher would have been more fitting.”
“And you still thing you’re not brave,” you quipped with a quiet laugh, before you shuffled a little closer to him on the filthy mattress, angling yourself, but you needed to be closer to patch that gash, to even see what you were doing in the sparse light of the moon.
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?”
“Um. I need to…I think I’ll need to sit on your lap to do this.”
There was a beat of awkward, crestfallen silence as he stared up at you, before he quickly said, “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Scoot over.” He did an awkward little gesture with his hands.
Heat burning in your cheeks, you moved to his lap. Straddling him.
Trying very, very hard not to think too much about the position.
And the images of that November night kept flitting back to you – of everything that had happened before you’d shattered both your hearts to pieces.
The way Eddie had kissed you, so gentle and fierce at the same time, of the way his touches had left burning trails of sparks on your skin as you’d buried your fingers in his hair, the sweet noises he’d made as you’d rolled your hips against his –
You cleared your throat, heat flaring once again in your face at the tingle in your chest…and the one not in your chest but…deeper, while shame crept over you because he was bleeding and bruised and hurt and hunted by a town for horrible crimes he hadn’t committed and waiting for you to patch up the wound Jason had given him because Eddie had let go of the goddamn oar so they’d let you go –
You gave a curt nod – to steady yourself, this time – and placed your free hand on the side of his face to gently angle his head a little further into the pale beam of moonlight, and something sparked in Eddie’s eyes at the touch, mirroring the sparks in your own chest.
And for a fleeting heartbeat, you stayed like that. Straddling him, your hand cradling his cheek, watching each other, a flurry of unspoken things swirling in the space between you.
Then, you broke the moment.
And set to work.
Eddie’s sharp intake of breath as you pierced his skin for the first stich made your insides twist, and you bit your tongue to draw your focus on the task of mending his wound as well as the fish-hook-turned-surgical-needle and the pale twilight the moon was casting through the canopy of leaves above allowed for.
The rivulets of blood still running from the gash in his brow mingled with the silent tears of pain streaming from Eddie’s eyes, running down his temples and seeping into the dark strands of his drying curls as you worked, and his chest was rising and falling with shallow breaths as he tried to reign in the pained noises clawing at his throat as his features contorted with pain.
“It’s okay,” you cooed softly, over and over again so he could focus on your voice rather than the agony of the fish-hook being pierced through the wound that was deeper than you’d initially thought, “I’m nearly done. You’re doing good, Eddie, you’re doing so good.”
“Better than Harrington?”, Eddie choked out through gritted teeth, “When you patched him up with vodka and dental floss?”
“So much better,” you confirmed gently, fingertips working on the second stitch, “Steve fainted.” Eddie didn’t need to know that Steve had been unconscious already when you’d patched him up.
There was the tiniest flicker of a very Eddie cheeky little grin before pain won over again and he breathed, “Gonna rub it under his nose so hard.”
His words were cut off by a strained groan of pain that made your heart bleed even more for him, and with a tremor in your own voice, you soothed, tying the fine fishing line into the third knot, “Just one more. You’re doing so good and it’s just one more stitch to go and we’re done, okay?”
A strangled noise left Eddie’s throat in reply as you pierced the fish-hook through his skin for the final time, tying the fine line into the last knot before grabbing the gutting knife to cut the line.
“Done,” you breathed letting the hook and knife fall to the tin box with a soft clatter, and Eddie’s trembling exhale of relief filled the air, his eyes still closed.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah,” he choked, “Gimme a second.”
You stared down at the now blood-soaked piece of fabric in your hand as you contemplated where to put it, and – as if he’d read your mind – Eddie snickered, “You could just leave it in that corner over there,” he nodded at the foot of the nearest boulder, “Something blood-stained would really contribute to the ambience of the empty beer cans and used condoms. Don’t look into that corner, by the way.”
You chuckled, letting the bloodied fabric fall to the ground beside you for now.
Until now, you’d successfully danced around the imminent realization that Skull Rock was Hawkins’ most famous make-out spot, thanks to Steve.
With a shaky breath, Eddie slowly sat up, your hands shooting out to his shoulders to steady him, your knees digging into the moldy mattress as you supported his weight.
For a heartbeat, you just stared at each other.
You were still on his lap, straddling him, and now that he was sitting…he was close, his face mere inches from yours.
Letting your hands fall away from his shoulders, you cleared your throat before you said, “We should clean up the rest of the blood, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed quietly, his expression timid, and you averted your gaze, face burning as you reached for another fresh piece of cloth to soak with whiskey. There wasn’t much of the amber liquid left in the bottle, but it would do.
Raising the fresh cloth in one hand, you placed the other to cradle the side of his face – and for the sliver of a second, Eddie’s dark eyes flitted down to your lips, before they found yours again, the expression within unreadable as he watched you dab the soaked cloth at the freshly mended cut, working your way to the side of his face as he tilted his head a little to the side, leaning into the touch of your palm on his cheek.
You knew the gesture was meant to give you better access to the blood-crusted other side of his face, but…your heart wasn’t as quick to catch up. And your goddamn memory was quick to provide the matching images of that night; the way Eddie had leaned into your touches as he’d kissed you, the way he’d shuddered when you’d ran your fingers down his back, tracing the curve of his spine.
Your skin prickled underneath the intensity of Eddie’s umber eyes as he quietly watched you, your fingertips working to brush away a few especially rebellious, half-dried curls which had fallen into his face again, gently holding them out of the way as you cleaned the dried blood coating his skin.
Did you imagine it, or had the space between the two of you shrunken even further?
“So, uh,” Eddie’s murmur broke the silence, his voice low, “What now?”
“I told Robin to get the others and meet us at the boathouse after the meeting. So, when they arrive and meet the cops which will be flocking around the scene by now, they’ll search the woods for us. They’ll find us. Maybe their visit at Creel house this afternoon even sparked a few new insights regarding Vecna’s whereabouts.”
“You really got a whole monster hunter family,” Eddie assessed. “Still dealing with that revelation, by the way.”
“Of the Upside Down?”
“Of the kids I adopted into Hellfire turning out more badass than I could ever dream of being. Shit. Like, Mike Wheeler? Hunting monsters? With Steve The Hair Harrington? Gonna be totally honest with you here, Steve Harrington not being a total douche was a shocker that hit way harder than the whole monsters-from-another-dimension shit. And then it turns out that the girl with the superpowers was Mike Wheeler’s girlfriend which – if I’m being totally honest with you here – I didn’t even believe existed, so that’s that. And these freshmen are goddamn heroes while I’m…still running.”
The bitterness in Eddie’s tone stung.
“There’s no shame in running,” you echoed the words he’d told you all these months ago.
“Yeah,” he scoffed quietly. “That was before I discovered that running away seems to be my goddamn default.”
“Eddie –“, you began, but he shook his head, his umber eyes finding yours in the half-dark, glittering in the pale beams of moonlight falling down upon the two of you, and you let the rest of your sentence fade into the cool spring night air.
On Eddie’s lap, it wasn’t cool anymore, though.
You were close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, through his own soaked clothes, the Hellfire shirt already beginning to dry beneath the leather jacket and denim vest, just like his curls.
One hand still resting on your cheek, you assessed your handywork. The four stitches to mend the cut had stopped the bleeding, and you’d managed to clean the blood from his face.
There was still a bit of it sticking to the curls of his bangs, and you reached up to gently clean it away from the strands underneath Eddie’s attentive gaze that made butterflies sear in your belly and made your heart do backflips and your pulse accelerate, before you let the fabric fall to the ground.
With the blood gone from Eddie’s face, you could see the shadows of bruises forming underneath his skin already where Jason’s fists had hit home. One beneath the cut on his right brow, one on his temple, and one – darker than the others already – on his jaw, and your heart seized painfully for him as you let your fingertips graze the bruises, one by one, the touch fleeting and light like the brush of a feather – before you realized what you were doing, and your fingers stilled.
“Sorry,” you breathed, “Does that hurt?”
“No,” Eddie murmured, his gaze briefly wandering back to your lips again before he swallowed, meeting your eyes.
His face was only inches from yours, his lips close enough to smell the whiskey on his warm breath as it fanned over yours.
You knew you should probably increase the distance between the two, and you should definitely get away from his lap, stop straddling him – but you couldn’t.
The gravity which had always pulled you towards him was back full-force. Only it had never stopped. It had always been there, from day one.
And so, you didn’t move away.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie added on a whisper, and you gently traced the curve of his cheekbone, down to his jaw, fingertips grazing the outlines of the bruises as he asked softly, “What are you thinking?”
“That I’ll kill Jason when I ever see him again.” Only as the words floated in the slim space between you, you realized they were the truth.
Eddie’s expression turned stern as he said quietly, “You won’t.”
“Because he’s big and strong and I don’t stand a chance? I fought monsters before.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Eddie said softly. “You’re a monster slayer. But you’re not a killer.”
You swallowed. “You don’t know anything about me, Eddie.” It was a dark whisper, an echo of the words you’d spat at him that night.
“I don’t believe you. Not a single word.”
“Because you don’t know me, Eddie. You don’t know anything about me. You never have.”
The hurt in his eyes as you said the words left no doubt that he was remembering them as well.
But to your surprise, Eddie said quietly, “I think I do. More than you want to believe.” His tone wasn’t hurt. It was soft.
You don’t know what happened last summer, you wanted to tell him. You don’t know that the Mind Flayer got me and what it made me do, and you don’t know that part of me liked it. Enjoyed it, to hurt the person who hurt me. And that’s why I know I wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Jason. Not a single second. Not after what he did, tried to do, to me – and especially not after what he did to you. Jason Carver had hurt Eddie. The next time you’d see Jason, you were ready to make him pay.
And the fact that Eddie didn’t think you were capable of that, proved your point even further.
There were still so many things he could never know – things that would forever snuff out the warmth he still held in these beautiful dark eyes when he looked at you, even after everything you’d done to him.
Apart from that, you’d slammed that door close for a reason, locked it behind you and threw the key away – and the reason hadn’t changed.
Because your dreams were still filled with everything you’d seen that night.
The door with the stained-glass roses, the hand creeping through, the Mind Flayer watching the two of you, watching Eddie, a looming spidery shadow in the crimson skies…and the swarm of monsters pouncing on Eddie, ripping him apart.
You could hardly tell him about these things. That your nightmares were filled with his anguished death cry as the Upside Down devoured him.
When you didn’t reply, Eddie breathed, “Is that why you did what you did? Because of all the monster shit? Is that why you left?”
“I told you why I left.”
“Because I was nothing but a distraction.” There was so much pain laced in his voice, his eyes; his gaze pleading you to tell him no, reveal the truth he was so desperately hoping for.
Yes, Eddie had been dragged into this mess now. He knew the tale, of the Upside Down and its monsters. But he could still get out of this because he wasn’t marked. He wasn’t stained, carrying around that dark, festering imprint you were carrying on your own soul. It was an easy equation – the Mind Flayer would forever be a part of you. And this connection, whatever it was…it would be Eddie’s death, if he came to close. Even if he saw the darkest part of you and still chose to stay…the Mind Flayer’s mark on you would cost Eddie’s life.
Nothing had changed.
And if you needed to suffocate that spark of desperate hope in his umber eyes as he gazed at you now, the moonlight glittering within their depths as he held your gaze and waited for your reply…that’s what you’d do. Everything to keep him safe.
“Yes. You were a distraction. It has never been anything more.”
You should move away, increase the distance between the two of you…but you couldn’t.
The spell he kept holding you under, this strange gravity drawing you towards him like a star to its twin, a moth to a lonely night in the dark, was too strong, overpowering every rhyme and reason, everything in you that screamed to keep this door locked.
And so, you stayed. On his lap, straddling him, your palms cradling his cheeks.
And you could see that Eddie didn’t believe you, saw it in the fierce spark in his eyes even before he said quietly, “Then why did you come back for me?”
His whiskey-breath prickled on your lips, mingling with your own, heart racing wildly as the space between the two of you shrunk, the moonlight dancing in Eddie’s pleading umber eyes as they held yours captive, stealing every last ounce of willpower from you.
You opened your mouth to utter a reply, conjure another lie, but Eddie whispered, “No more lies. Tell me the truth, or nothing at all. But no more lies. Please.” His voice was barely more than a rasp, so soft, as soft as his pleading eyes while the space between you shrunk, magnets drawn to each other, his face so close that the tip of his nose brushed yours, his lips nearly grazing your own as he added on a breath, “If it didn’t count, if nothing of it mattered…why did you go to the trouble to find me, monster slayer?”
Because I love you.
I’ll always, always love you, Eddie Munson. And I always have.
You couldn’t say it, no matter how hard you wished you could.
But his proximity had stolen your voice anyway, had chased all the lies you were ready to tell from the tip of your tongue as you inched closer still –
And your lips brushed his.
It was fleeting, ephemeral as the touch of a moth’s wing, the ghost of a kiss…
Before it turned into a real one.
Your heart skipped its next beat, Eddie’s own sharp inhale filling the air in the sliver of space between the two of you, as his lips met yours again.
It was greedy. Desperate.
And all your resolve crumbled like a house of cards in a hurricane as you melted into the kiss. Until your chest was pressed flush against his, your fingers tangling in the drying strands of his hair to pull him closer as Eddie’s hands shot up to your back, holding you against him as if he were scared you’d fade away like mist in the sunlight if he let go now, and the softest of moans spilled from your lips as you parted them for him, fire blazing through your veins at the sensation, giddiness and love and longing and everything in between to mend what you’d broken, to put all the shards of your heart back together –
“EDDIE!”
Never in your life had you moved so fast, back to your feet, mind spinning and heart racing and chest heaving with labored breaths as you as you jumped away from Eddie, just as Robin rounded the boulders of Skull Rock, Nancy and Dustin and Steve hot on her heels, Max and Lucas trailing behind, as Steve chided, “Don’t be so loud, man. That’s –“
He cut himself off as their gazes met your own, wild and panting, before Dustin’s gaze fell on Eddie, who’d jumped to his feet in time with you, a soft wince escaping him as Dustin tackled him into a hug.
And Eddie’s eyes met yours over the boy’s shoulder as he patted Dustin’s back.
Even from the distance, you could see that his pupils were blown, the soft blush dusting his pale cheeks visible even in the weak moonlight, and you quickly averted your gaze as Robin inquired, “What the fuck happened? The boathouse is in cinders, there’s police all over the place –“
“Are you hurt?”, Nancy questioned, her gaze flitting from you to Eddie, who was in the process of untangling himself from Dustin’s bear hug, looking as rattles as you felt.
“No,” you breathed, just as Eddie retorted, “Yes.”
Robin’s eyes narrowed as they darted between Eddie and you, before she said, “You look a little… disheveled.” There was a small huff escaping her as Nancy not so subtly slapped Robin’s back, and Steve’s gloomy expression turned even gloomier as he turned to Eddie, waving at him while he inquired, “What happened?”
Eddie’s hand shot up to his hair, the strands tousled where your fingers had raked through them, caught in the heat of the moment of the kiss only moments ago before he stammered, “Uh. It’s…windy.”
There was a beat of silence as you watched Max’s eyebrows shoot up and Luca’s brow furrow in confusion as he stared at the absolutely unruffled foliage of the trees above, before Steve muttered, “Not your hair, man, your face.”
You were having a hard time ignoring the way Robin’s gaze was boring into you. She’d truly mastered the art of side-eyes.
“Oh,” Eddie replied. “Yeah. Had a run-in with Jason and his mob of jocks.”
“Before we took an accidental swim in the lake,” you added.
“Vecna got Patrick,” Eddie finished. “McKinney.”
“What?!”, Dustin called out, in time with Lucas.
“When did he die?”, Dustin pressed, “Patrick, I mean.”
“Fuck,” Lucas muttered under his breath.
“I didn’t exactly check the time –“ you began, but Eddie called out, “I did. Well, sort of,” as he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “We fell into the lake right then, so my watch broke…nine twenty pm. That’s when he…when it happened.”
“That’s when the lights burst,” Nancy breathed.
“What did you find out at Creel house?”, you inquired, your gaze briefly locking on Eddie’s. He was still panting, his eyes still wide and the blush on his cheeks mirrored the heat in your own as your whole face felt like it was burning, and you quickly averted your gaze when Dustin spoke up, “We found Vecna.”
“What?”
“He’s there,” Max said, “At Creel house. In the attic, on the other side.”
“That’s not creepy at all,” Eddie muttered, drawing out the words in his usual lilting tone.
“But if he’s there…”
“Then all we need to do is find a gate,” Dustin interrupted, “Go to the Upside Down –“
“And drive a stake through his heart,” Max finished grimly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
In the weak moonlight, she looked like a ghost, the shadows under her eyes nearly blue, her headphones at the ready around her neck. With a glance at Eddie, she said, “Thank you. For saving my ass. I’ve been told Kate Bush was your idea.”
Eddie scratched the back of his head, his eyes flitting to you before he said, “Yeah. No worries. It was a gut feeling rather than some genius epiphany.”
“Wait – a stake?” Steve furrowed his brows. “Is Vecna – is he a vamp?”
“It was a metaphor.”
Another thought came to your mind. “But we still need a gate.”
Dustin grinned as he pulled something out of his sweater’s pocket, the thing catching the moonlight in a glint of silver as he raised it in the air, “I think we already found one.”
Eddie’s brows shot up. “A gate. Just like that?”
Dustin’s grin widened. “When the Demogorgon attacked, it left a gate. And we already know that gates to the Upside Down mess with the magnetic field of the earth.” And you finally recognized what the thing in his hand was as he raised it again, before he announced, “And ever since we went into these woods, my compass went nuts.”
“With a capital ‘N’,” Robin smirked.
With an expression warring between fascination and dread, Eddie took the compass from Dustin’s hand. “Son of a bitch,” he breathed.
“Exactly,” Dustin grinned.
You didn’t need to look at the compass to know the needle was spinning like a record in its player.
“So, uh, all we need to do,” Eddie summed up, still staring at the whirring needle of Dustin’s compass, dread slowly winning its fight against fascination on his face, “Is follow wherever the needle is spinning faster.”
“Which will be Lover’s Lake,” Dustin added. “Where Patrick died. If my theory’s correct, and they always are.”
“Jesus,” Steve breathed, rolling his eyes, “Henderson, you gotta keep that ego in check.”
“Wait, the lake’s where we’re coming from,” you protested. “There will be police, the firefighters –“
“They’re gone,” Steve interrupted. “Which is why we need to go now. They’ll be searching the lake and the surrounding woods for Eddie as soon as the sun rises, so we need to go now and see if Dustin’s right.”
“I am,” Dustin said. “Jesus.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” you interjected, pinching the bridge of your nose at the flood of new information, “There was a third quote-unquote murder and they’re not searching the surroundings right now? Isn’t that weird?”
“Oh. Yeah. You don’t know,” Robin spluttered. “The whole town’s gone haywire.”
Max uttered a scoff. “The townhall burned down.”
There was a beat of crestfallen silence as Eddie’s head snapped up, eyes locking on you as the world started spinning.
“Just went up in flames,” Steve confirmed. “Must have been right after you left.”
You curled your hand into a fist at your side, fingernails digging painfully into the blisters covering your palm.
The blisters from the doorhandle at the townhall, which had singed you right before it had sprung open. Just like that.
Just like Chance’s letterman jacket had caught flames.
“Oh, and that’s not all,” Max added as an afterthought, stepping towards you as she pulled something out of the pocket of her jacket, holding it out for you.
It was a folded piece of paper.
“You never saw because you were already on your way back to the boathouse this morning,” she explained, “But remember when I said I drew what I saw when Vecna got me? That place he didn’t want me to see?”
Your hands trembled as you unfolded the paper, mind going a mile a minute as your thoughts raced around her previous words.
The townhall burned down.
The townhall burned down.
The townhall burned down.
Just like the boathouse. And the connection between these places, of course –
You unfolded the paper.
Just that it wasn’t a paper, you realized now. They’d glued several pieces of paper together like a puzzle, and someone had outlined the silhouette with a black sharpie, lines crisscrossing the pattern of red to form a house. Probably Creel house, you realized.
And your sharp intake of breath filled the silence of the spring night as your eyes fell on the center of the house.
On the front door.
The bouquet of flowers, drawn with messy swirls of crayon at the center of the door.
Crimson stained-glass roses.
 [Friday, March 15th, 1986. ONE WEEK BEFORE CHRISSY’S DEATH.]
The silence of the dream mingled with the music floating through the headphones of your Walkman at the frayed edges of your consciousness, Eddie’s mixtape tethering you to a sliver of reality as you shrunk backwards.
It was there again.
The door, suspended in the night sky, amidst the sea of glittering stars.
Just like always, like every night since that November night four months ago.
You knew what came next, the nightmare a familiar companion by now – albeit one to which’s horrors you’d never grow accustomed.
It would creak open, a deformed, spidery hand creeping through.
You would turn and run.
And you’d watch him die, hear his death cry lace with the music, the chorus of a million eerie shrieks as the creatures pounced down on Eddie in a hailstorm of wings and claws and teeth and ruin, mingling with your own scream when you eventually bolted upright in bed.
Your mind clung to the music of Eddie’s mixtape, your tether, your lifeline, the lighthouse’s beam guiding you to shore.
A nightmare, a nightmare, just a nightmare…
There was the silhouette behind the door, behind the stained-glass roses bleeding crimson.
But this time…something was different.
The brass doorknob didn’t turn.
The door didn’t creak open.
The deformed hand didn’t crawl through the crack to fold around the wood.
There was just the door, and the starry night skies.
And mingling with the music, the lyrics floating through the dream, was a voice.
So beautifully familiar, soft as it painted your name into the air in its musical lilting cadence.
And so horribly, horribly scared.
“Eddie?”, you answered, whirling around, eyes scanning your surroundings for a flash of his umber eyes, of messy dark curls and soft lips, of leather and denim and the glint of his rings – but there was nobody there.
Just a void filled with silent, distant stars.
“Eddie?!”, you called out again – and this time, he answered, his voice growing more desperate as he called out your name.
Screamed your name.
“EDDIE!”, you cried out, spinning faster and faster as his voice morphed into a horrid cry of agony – and your eyes fell on the door.
The silhouette behind, fists hailing down on the wood from inside, making the door rattle in its hinges as you darted towards it.
“EDDIE!”
“HELP ME!”
“EDDIE I’M RIGHT HERE!”
“GET ME OUT!”, he screamed, “HELP ME! LET ME OUT!”
He was behind that door.
With that thing, the silhouette with its deformed spidery hand.
Panic clawed at you as your hands wrapped around the brass door knob.
It was cool against the skin of your palm.
And through the petals of the crimson stained-glass roses, Eddie’s eyes stared back at you, wide with terror as he placed one hand on the glass and whimpered, “Let me out, monster slayer. Please.”
Without a second of hesitation, you turned the knob.
And ripped the door open.
But Eddie…Eddie was gone.
And your eyes flew open as you bolted upright in bed, the sweat-soaked sheets tangled around your legs as your chest heaved with shallow breaths, heartbeat thundering in your ears.
It had been just a dream.
Only a dream.
…right?
 [Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]
It was the door from your dreams.
The door from your dreams was the door to Creel house.
The door to Vecna’s lair.
The door you’d ripped open in your nightmare nine days ago.
Exactly seven days before Chrissy Cunningham’s bones had snapped, one by one, on the ceiling of Eddie Munson’s trailer.
The stained-glass roses of Max’s painting swam before your eyes, blurred into splotches of red as your body went numb, and you sunk to your knees, onto the carpet of dried leaves, your friends’ voices rising around you, muted as if you were underwater as realization crashed over you like a freezing wave.
You’d opened that door.
Vecna had tricked you.
And you…you had let him in.
▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞
----
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I hope you enjoyed this chapter! ♡
𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩  𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 ♡
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eddiessluttywaist · 9 months
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desiderium
an eddie munson series
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AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.
summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.
pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader
word count: 10,076 words
content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, fluff, swearing, depictions of low self esteem, anxiety, wet clothes (idk about you but that needs a warning in my book), wandering eyes oooo, boobs? (not detailed), mentions of porn, smol eddie :(. i think that’s it!
a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5
*
Sunday, October 6th, 1991. 2:02 AM.
You wound up returning to the motel late that night. Not late enough to truly spend as much time together as you wanted... but late enough that you knew you'd regret it as soon as your alarm went off. You spent most of that time in the garage talking or goofing off once there was nothing left of your meals but crumbs, grease stains, and leftover ketchup packets. Eddie was kind enough to drive you and even offered to drive you around until your car was fixed. You were unsure as the concern of becoming a burden rang through your head, but he insisted. So there you were.
You were certain it was because of the time of night, but that Autumn chill you had felt before seemed to have sunk into a wintry bite. The heat blasting in his van created a cozy sanctuary in dramatic contrast to the air outside, so much so that you never wanted to move from your spot. You were enveloped by the rushing warmth and the smell of toasty plastic and leather that came from it. Everything worked together to lull you in that passenger side seat, especially with the way Eddie surrounded you without him ever moving from his spot. Coffee and fresh tobacco lingered in the air. Spicy deodorant and shampoo and skin salted by sweat. Notes of the auto shop and the bar that dug deep into the fibers of his clothing.
"Thank you. You really didn't have to do this," you finally spoke the first words since you both stepped into his car. There was no awkward silence. Only comfort and dips in energy in a town where everyone else was already tucked into their beds.
"Well, I am the one that stole your car from you," he smoothed over your consternation with a roll of his head in your direction and a lazy smile. He looked tired. Your appreciation extended to a gentle brush of your fingertips against his forearm.
"And you didn’t have to do that either, but you did so thank you," you teased in return, a sleepy contentment reflecting in both your tone and your face. "You look exhausted, Loogie."
He sighed as his focus turned to the view through his windshield, his lips pushed forward by his exhale, and the small amount of extra skin folding underneath his tipped chin.
"That's because I am, my dear, dear Critter," he murmured honestly but benevolent enough to show the absence of irritation.
That relaxed smile came back with a vengeance as his focus returned to you, eyes hunting for any visible response to his words. He received the exact expression he was striving for, all signs pointing to that relapse of anxiety steadily unwinding from your body. There was no need for it. He helped you because he wanted to, and nothing in the world could turn you into a burden. Nothing. Your weary heart swelled with gratitude over his innate ability to take care of you so wholeheartedly without any consequences.
"'s nothing to do with you. And I'm happy to help out," he tacked on.
Sides of heads rested on plaid fabric secured to worn leather, tired stares tracking the details of the other's face. You found the freckles he had back in 1976 and lines that he didn't, comforted by the rumbling of the van's hearty engine. This all occurred within seconds, but those moments of refamiliarizing yourselves -- even in the absence of words -- were essential these days. They happened naturally and beautifully within the occasional pause, a recent habit that neither of you seemed consciously aware of.
His scent that was permanently imbedded into the interior of his car followed you as you leaned over. The potent silence seemed to amplify the sound of clothing shuffling and old leather creaking in your wake. Your arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a hug that was unbelievably awkward at this angle.
"You're the best," you whispered in a softened tone. The best. It reverberated through his skull then shook through the rest of his body like he was too close to pulsing speakers. Best, best, best.
"Thank you," you repeated now.
It was simple. Genuine concern about shitty brake pads. A casual willingness to drive you to work. Small things that probably didn't need to be ruminated on but meant everything to you.
"Yeah...," he returned in an equally gentle but surprised voice, eyes swimming with restrained emotion as his hand settled on your back. "Yeah, of course..."
It was simple. Genuine concern about his eating habits. An unshakeable gratitude for his very existence -- altering him from someone to leave, to someone worth finding. Small things that everyone else seemed to have but meant everything to him.
It was clear Eddie had something to say when you pulled away and parted from his van, but he was left speechless just like at The Hideout earlier that night. Only this time you didn’t get a halfhearted shrug before he found his voice again, you only got large Bambi eyes staring at you and then a muttered: “Uh… never — never mind.”
“O-kay…” you trailed off with a light laugh, hand resting on the edge of the door. You stared at him as if you’d find the answers written in the pigment of his irises or those freckles scattered over his nose. “Well… I’m gonna head inside. Thanks again for everything.”
You sent one last, tight-lipped smile in his direction before closing the door and spinning on your heels.
Eddie swallowed some much-needed moisture back into his throat, watching you head towards the motel entrance. Coward.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he huffed, finally leaning over to grasp the passenger side window crank. His seatbelt locked him in place, earning a few curses in a pitched voice before he finally unbuckled. He lunged himself to the passenger side and rolled the window down as quickly as he could.
“I’m happy too!” he called out.
With furrowed brows, you spun around as a curious smile toyed on your lips.
“What?” you laughed out, both voices echoing through the quiet parking lot.
“I’m…” he struggled, not to find the words but the confidence to say them without feeling like a complete and utter fool. His full lips parted, then closed, then parted again as his eyes sought you out. “I’m happy to have my best friend back too.”
“What?” your giggle danced through the late-night air again, taking a couple steps forward to hopefully catch his suddenly softer tone.
Idiot. His eyes rolled up towards the ceiling of his vehicle, placing most of his weight on one side while his free hand rubbed over his face in a brief lapse of frustration. His rough hand slapped back down to grasp the top of the sunken window.
“I’m happy to have my best friend back too!” he repeated, louder yet weaker somehow. Being forced to repeat himself had him wondering if it was a sign to take it back. To say something else. Anything but admit how touched he was by you coming back to him. Anything that didn’t feel so… vulnerable. The emotions in his eyes wavered, years of earned distrust spiraling the pit of his gut.
Then within an instant, Eddie was overly aware of how he had never considered how wonderful streetlights were. They were something to forget until you had to walk somewhere late at night. Or until they gave him the opportunity to see that ethereal smile that rounded the apples of your cheeks. You toyed with the strap of your purse.
“Good night, Loogie.”
*
Monday, October 7th, 1991. 9:36 AM.
“I’m scared,” Thach murmured to Lin as they observed Eddie from afar.
The young mechanic was leaning over the popped hood of a station wagon years beyond being on its last legs. The ancient vehicle creaked and groaned with nearly every touch, mirroring the state of Eddie's employer. The crotchety owner infamous for giving everyone but Thach a hard time had left the car behind with the promise of it being in his experienced -- albeit aching -- hands and his alone; but the cold front prematurely making its way through Indiana locked up the middle-aged man's joints enough that even holding a coffee mug was a hardship.
So there Eddie was, working on some trash heap he supposedly shouldn't have even been breathing near. The smell of its innards infiltrated the shop's usual fragrance of vulcanized rubber and chemicals with its own signature scent of stale cigarettes and wet dogs. And while he wasn't as impacted by the bite in the air as his boss, it was still a miserable feeling to be trapped in a cinderblock of a garage with a space heater that was more of a placebo than an actual chance for warmth. Ever incapable of dressing accurately for the weather, the cold had trespassed his coveralls and minimal clothes underneath to settle into his bones with a sort of foreshadowing that promised a future like Thacher's. Even the coffee in the break room that he depended on raising his body temperature was particularly bitter that Monday.
Everything was pointing towards a miserable rest of the day, and he was smiling. Nothing consistently toothy, it was more of a tug on his closed lips that showed itself intermittently as he became lost in his thoughts to distract from the stink, the cold, the putrid taste of bad coffee clinging to his taste buds. It wasn't a grin suggesting a drastic change of personality, but it was there. He never smiled like this — or really at all these past few years.
“I think he might even have a pep in his step,” Linda diagnosed as the two regarded him with astonishment.
“I can hear you guys, y’know,” Eddie muttered, his previously uncharacteristic expression suddenly being covered by all his hair as he studied the open hood. His hair elastic broke. He looked up now with a glare and flared nostrils.
“Ah, there he is,” Thacher breathed out in relief before him, and Lin retreated from the doorway to the front in a fit of titters.
Eddie mumbled under his breath, clomping over to his leather jacket and vest hung up on the coat rack. Hands hardly cleaned by his rag fished through his pockets before pulling out a black bandana. His smile returned at his sense of luck being refueled, swiping a thumb over the old piece of fabric before securing it around his head. He contained his curls again, save for a few rebelling bangs, and returned to the compactor candy reeking up the garage.
“Hey,” a man in similar dress greeted him as he walked through.
“Hey, Rick,” Eddie raised one hand in place of a wave before getting back to work. The dipstick entrenched in oil as he raised it from its designated reservoir earned a groan as his coworker walked over.
“Hey, are you — oh, shit,” Rick hissed in through his teeth when he caught a glimpse. “Again?”
“Again,” Eddie nodded, placing the long strip of metal back down and wiping his hands on his coveralls.
“Good luck,” the 30-something snorted and wandered away again before remembering his initial question. “Oh, are you working on the blue Bug?"
The blue Bug. The casual mention of a car in the shop never brought a glitter to his eyes the way that VW Beetle did. There was only one time he could remember anyone in the shop being star struck by a car that had been brought in. That was a couple years ago when some passerby had graced them with the presence of a glistening, ruby Plymouth Fury for the sake of replacing a flat tire. All other cars that came through were about earning a living then sending people on their way -- there was nothing special about them, simply a means to an end. But that Bug was special. It was special because it was yours.
"Uh, yeah," Eddie cleared his throat, keeping a casual tone to his voice. "Why?"
"Just wondering. Nice car. Looks like it's from the '70s," Rick shrugged, eyeing his odd behavior before moving on.
"Yeah, definitely," He nodded, glancing over at him and then back down as he sucked in his cheeks to keep from smiling. He didn't need Rick joining in on humiliating him.
Once his coworker disappeared into the break room, he finally raised his gaze. All of his tentative attention went to that classic car painted a shade of azure that had gone pastel at the hands of time.
When he walked in that morning, all he could think about was sitting in your usual place to start the engine with your overly decorated keys and put it through the usual tests. The chance to feign your presence and provide himself that specific comfort that he once forgot he had. A kind of comfort that soothed his loneliness. A kind of comfort he hadn't had in years.
And that car was sitting there taunting him with its existence as if it took on a personality like yours, conjuring up images of you sticking your tongue out at him. He wanted to leave the old wagon to rot in favor of rescuing your precious Sherry. He wanted to leave her in perfect condition. He wanted to do the best work he's ever done. He wanted his payment in the form of drinking in every ounce of appreciation in your soft features and the timbre of your voice. He wanted your arms circled around his middle with a Thank you, thank you, thank you pressed into the material of his shirt as he said it was no trouble at all -- really.
Wanted, wanted, wanted. And he'd have to wait.
*
Thursday, October 17th, 1991. 10:01 AM.
The unexpected reliance on Eddie and his beloved Chevy stretched out over the past couple of weeks. When you left for Indiana, you hoped with every ounce of your being, down to the very last cell, that he would accept your sudden return to his life. All you wanted was to spend all your time together like when you were kids, but now as those hopes came to life all you could do was sink into your nerves. It was too soon to be around him this often. Surely, you were ruining everything. With every ride or shared shift or phone call, you worried he was steadily becoming exhausted by your constant presence. And every time, he smoothed over your inflamed concerns with words of reassurance or the nasty things you feared he could say but never did. The only drop of frustration he showed was in the form of a playful groan and an I swear if you apologize one more time.
It was funny how quickly embarrassment and nerves were swept away once your interactions sweetened back up. How the meekness melted away to the childhood ties at the core of your bond. Between The Hideout, phone calls, and car rides, you and Eddie were in a good flow. The tension from years of distance was like some sort of tide rather than a brick wall in your way. It rolled in and surrounded you both as your faces grew blotchy and mouths fought to find something to say; or it sunk back, and you settled into that deep-rooted connection that no amount of time or physical space could take away. Lately, your metaphorical tide was imperceptible. The few times it threatened to creep back in, recounting a pleasant memory or a perfectly timed joke pushed it back again.
Everything that had taken over your mind since moving away all boiled down to the current moment. Everything concentrated into a single pull from your deck.
The commonly ostracized card laid on top of your motel bedding, drawing all the attention to its ominous imagery in comparison to the yellow gingham fabric. Death himself sat upon his white steed, raising his flag as he brought upon misfortune and loss to those at his feet. Only you didn't see the message as a warning of misfortune. It laid upright and conjured thoughts of your past melting away. Everything that broke you bit by bit finally lead you here and your life in Ohio was left in the dust to be swallowed whole. Things that weren't in your best interest were being killed off one by one, and at the sight of a card that struck fear in most -- you picked it up and held it close to your heart.
New beginnings. Plain, but beautiful, even in a place like Hawkins. You thought it over as you rejoined the card with the others and settled them all together in their assigned drawstring bag. The pad of your thumb smoothed over the velvet pouch, and as your touch created a path in the disturbed fibers of the material you saw a new path of your own. This was your personal interpretation. All you could do was hope it was true.
It certainly felt true.
Beyond all things Eddie, work was going well too. Ron and Sandy were unbelievably kind and patient, no matter how much Ron wanted to come off as an intolerable grouch. There were still some things you confused or had to ask about, but your previous experience saved you from making a mess of things. Ron's oldest, David, was quiet and didn't seem interested in befriending you, but he wasn't rude or unprofessional. It was clear early on that all he wanted was to get his work done and go home. He had no interest in workplace chitchat beyond the customers and his parents, so you respected it. You found surprising growth where you once needed everyone to like you and want to interact with you. You had Ron and Sandy. You had Eddie.
Now a few weeks into your new job, the only downside seemed to be all the time you missed sharing with Martha. The thought of leaving her lonely was intolerable for your sensitive heart so you were taking advantage of your open schedule today. Mood uplifted by wondrous Death and no work; you might as well have skipped to the small lobby.
"It's a beautiful day, my lovely Martha," you sighed as you leaned into the opposite side of the check-in area.
At the very beginning of the month, that numbing cold that crept in had sunk deep into the town earlier than expected. All signs pointed towards a particularly bitter winter in the near future until the temperatures started letting up recently. Now there was that autumnal chill to the air where you shivered without a sweater, but the sun shone brilliantly to heat up anyone in its path. It was the perfect weather for loungewear, freshly baked goods, and mugs of tea that warmed your palms and hovering face.
And you were quickly learning how much you loved this town for its dedication to the season that perfectly matched your own. The decorations slowly popping up everywhere. The themed foods at restaurants or deals at the market. All the local farmers with offers on pumpkin and apple picking. The advertised films available at the local video store. The signs fluttering throughout the center of town or stapled to poles that displayed seasonal parties or activities -- hayrides, jack-o-lantern contests, themed options for all ages at a local recreational center. Not to mention all the good things you heard about Halloween night, particularly from Martha. There was the occasional group of teenagers that wound up in trouble, but it was like the trick or treating you had back home. All the participation, all the goodness -- a beautiful moment in the community that made you proud to be in a small town.
"Someone's in a good mood," Martha noted, glancing away from her book to look over at you. "Why are you still in your pajamas?"
"Why aren't you in your pajamas?" you countered, making your way around to her side of the desk.
She eyed your Aerosmith baby tee and old pajama pants, unsure if she approved. Martha was a stubborn spokeswoman of starting your day right -- which included taking the time to get dressed in the morning. But then she saw the bunny slippers covering your feet and the only thing she could be bothered to do was laugh.
"What?"
"Those poor things," Martha cackled and put her mystery novel down to give her full attention to your choice in footwear. "They look miserable!"
"What?" you gasped, staring down at them now. The once plush fluff was now matted with age and the abuse of countless machine washing. The white of their fur had taken on more of a gray hue and the pink of their ears and noses were awfully dingy. The left one lost a beady eye ages ago. You could have replaced them by now, but you loved them. Abandoning them, just like abandoning Sherry, would be a tougher heartbreak to get over than your last boyfriend.
"They're perfect!"
"Whatever you say, dear."
*
3:33 PM.
Despite your jokes that you refused to spend time with Martha after she spoke so poorly of your beloved slippers, you still curled up beside her in your usual chair to watch her favorite documentary series together. The two of you enjoyed the usual quiet of the motel for hours with frequent breaks for food, curled up in office chairs as information about different animals out in the wild was told in calm, British accents.
"Oh wow... that thing is ugly," you muttered into your cup of hot cocoa as a random creature came up on the fuzzy screen. A posh tone went on to explain its secluded nature before the poor connection left his words choppy and the footage buzzing with snow.
"Now don't you feel bad?" Martha chided in the disguise of a question, smacking at the side of her television. "That poor thing is all lonely in the forest and you're here calling it ugly -- ugh, c'mon, ya piece of --"
She muttered under her breath, forcing herself out of her spot to mess with the rabbit ears in hopes of a better connection. You're a breath away from cracking a joke when the jarring tone of someone laying on their horn nearly made you jump out of your chair. With furrowed brows, you twist in your spot to glance out the window and see who was disturbing your time dedicated to watching Martha beat up her TV.
The only thing to smooth out your pinched expression was the very van you saw parked outside. Fresh drizzle freckled the pavement as you watched your old friend get out of his car and sprint towards the front door. You watched a few drops drip down and splotch the surface of the window before you turned around in anticipation of today's visitor.
"A-ha!" Martha clasped her hands together, sitting back down now that the image cleared up. While she celebrated, you welcomed the usually unpleasant sound of wet shoes squeaking on freshly mopped floors, sitting up more in your chair to give the man at the entrance your full attention.
"Sorry, I wanted to surprise you but then I was getting out and I accidentally caught the horn and..." Eddie breathed out, gesturing hands coming to a pause as he caught a glimpse of the screen. "Wow, that thing is really ugly."
"What are you doing here?"
You did your best to contain your joy, but even your intentions couldn't dampen your excitement over a surprise visit.
A miniscule bead of rain that had found purchase on his nose finally slid down and wet the shirt underneath his partially unzipped coveralls. He gave you a beautiful smile of his own before rubbing at his face with the back of his work jacket sleeve. After a solid lecture from Lin over him working in the freezing garage without it, Eddie had finally taken the coat out of that old Rubbermaid hamper he shoved his seasonal clothing into. Realistically, while he imagined most others had a sizeable assortment of different attire to keep them warm later in the year, his "seasonal" container only held his work jacket; hats he despised wearing because of how they charged his fluffy hair with that obnoxious static which made him zap his fingers on every metal surface he came in contact with (not fun for a mechanic); then the occasional mismatched glove he hoped to find the twin of by the following Winter (he never did).
Everything else he owned he pretty much wore no matter what the weather was like. Not that fashion was something he considered much anymore, now that he spent every day working. The effort he enjoyed as a peacocking teenager steadily died down with every second of adulthood that drained him. He still found joy in the same accessories he donned daily, even if they had to be taken off while he worked on someone's car, and you'd be hard-pressed to see him ever give up his vest and his leather jacket. He had more opportunities to express himself at the bar, but he supposed the opinions of him swirling around this town had steadily begun to succeed. Only in subtle, small changes, but enough to be depressing if you truly knew him from before.
"I don't have work today," you added onto your question.
"I didn't realize I was just a chauffeur," he feigned hurt with a hand over his chest.
"Oh, shut up," you scoffed out amidst your laughter.
And scene. At the sight of your eye roll -- which was arguably just as dramatic as his behavior -- you got a lopsided smile from him as he chuckled, leaning further into the barrier between the two of you.
He started to reply before catching how Martha was staring in his periphery. A smile caught in a sudden shift in feelings stuck in place, then faltered before disappearing. Overly aware of being watched by someone from Hawkins, his now bashful gaze worked its way down to the countertop. He felt the pains of carelessly rushing in there after all the times he specifically remained in the parking lot for this very reason. He tilted his head down, rubbing his knuckles on the counter.
"I was just uhm..." his attention drifted to your attire now, eyes trailing over the curve of your bra-less chest on pure accident as he read the symbol at the center. His face burned at the realization of how that must have looked -- and all for a crummy Aerosmith logo at that -- and he finally looked away to wind up with Martha at the center of his view. Great.
"Hi Mrs. Peters," he spoke like a young child awaiting some kind of reprimand, rapping his knuckles to appease his nervous energy. You flailed your arms and flopped back into your seat in playful exasperation over his attention span.
"Hello Eddie," she returned with a calm voice and a knowing smile. "How are you?"
Given his reputation, he never really knew how someone from this town would respond to his presence, so he was left stupefied by how polite Martha was. Even if she was silently cheeky about his flushed face. His bottom lip that he had been rubbing raw with the edge of his teeth finally released again in disbelief of something as simple as someone asking how he was.
"I'm -- I'm okay. How are you?"
"I'm well. Been spending time with your lovely friend over here," Martha hummed in response, motioning over to you.
"Oh good... that's good," he nodded.
"She's..." deep inhale "good..." he exhaled before bubbling with nervous laughter over his inability to speak, or at least not feel like a complete idiot when he did speak. He kicked his elbow up onto the counter and gnawed at his nails out of habit.
"You still haven't answered my question," you complained, leaning into Martha's side of the check-in window to reach forward and hold onto his canvas-clad arm. His eyes shot up to you in all their usual glory and fluttery eyelashes while he continued his nervous quirk. "What's up?"
"Oh, uh — right," he pulled his hand away from his lips to unhook something from his wallet chain. He held up the array of accessories on an exhausted metal ring, then placed it down onto the counter. "Sherry's all good if you want 'er."
You gasped as you collected your key chain and rushed around to where he was.
The work on your car had taken longer than expected, since he found more damage while inspecting your car, but he insisted on returning your car to you in the best condition possible.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," your excitement sunk into his shirt as you hugged him tight, pressing your face into his chest. "You're the best."
Martha couldn't help but smirk over the way the young man's expression and stature completely crumbled over your touch. The relief before the pure joy as he captured his opportunity to wrap you up in a hug before you could pull back. The squeeze as he settled his cheek on top of your head. It was clear that every moment of work he put into that car was with the hope that this would be the outcome, and you certainly didn’t let his efforts be in vain.
"It's no problem, really," he insisted, barely rocking the two of you side to side simply because he could. The basic need for movement without having to let you go.
"You're the best. The absolute best," you repeated the sentiment, satiating the man holding you who lived off of any moment of praise he could possibly get. The best.
You pulled back enough to look up at him. "What do I owe you?"
At that, Eddie pulled his lips down into a dismissive frown as he shook his head.
"Nothing."
"Fuck off," you huffed out a laugh, pulling back completely to shove him just for your attempt to end up a nudge to his shoulder as that crooked smile beamed down at you. "Really, how much?"
Eddie took a step back as a confused expression took over his face with an air of drama and excitement that made it clear he was messing with you.
"What?" he said, furrowing his brows and cupping his hand behind his ear as he pretended to lose his sense of hearing.
"Eddie— "
He started circling around you to head back to the door, pointing to one of his ears.
"'m sorry! I just — I'm having a really hard time hearing you!" he kept up his façade as best as he could before it fell apart, and let his cheeky grin shine through as he pushed the door open again with his back. "C'mon. Let's go get her."
"Ugh, you are such a -- Oh! Bye, Martha!" before you could finish your thought as you stalked after him, you turned to ensure the older woman didn't feel forgotten. Eddie snickered evilly, rocking back and forth on his heels and moving the front door with him.
"I'll be right back! I just have to get my car."
"Oh! Of course!" she pretended to be caught off guard by you roping her back into the conversation as if she had been thoroughly invested in her show. "You know where I'll be."
Eddie's quick farewell was the only time his quiet politeness returned, earning your attention again. Martha reciprocated his gesture as you turned to face him with a displeased look. His sweet behavior with her melted away as you walked closer to him, pointing your index finger at him with the promise of a lecture. The tip of his tongue darted out to a point over his curved lip and giggles poured out. He steadily backed out of the motel then booked it back to the van, partially to avoid the rain that was steadily increasing in intensity, partially to avoid your impending speech.
"Edward!" you gasped, chasing after him.
Martha leaned back in her chair to spy from the window, the scene of bubbly youth in her parking lot pulling a calm hum of amusement from her. Between the streams and blotches of water, she could make out how Eddie pretended to start driving away when you tried to get into the passenger side. Right as you reached the door, he jerked the car forward a few inches before stopping so you could actually get in.
"You're an ass!" she heard you announce, clambering into the passenger side. Eddie’s laugh echoed through the parking lot, followed by a slammed door and a speedy retreat.
*
So much for that perfect Fall weather.
The drizzle had formed a consistent thrum on the roof of the garage by that point, a soft hum just for you and Eddie, and Lin up at the front desk. You loved the rain. You really did. That didn't mean the former sprinkle of rain wasn't a poor warning for the way the skies opened and unleashed an amount of water that was approaching biblical proportions.
The sky was deep and ashen, making the fluorescent lights feel harsher and colder somehow whenever you caught glimpses of the occasional window. Goosebumps came and went, shuddering along the skin of your arms as you raised them up to grasp the familiar steering wheel.
"I have my Sherry back," you sighed happily, hands gliding over the surface.
The very moment you could, you had sat yourself right in the driver’s side while Eddie went over everything he fixed from the passenger side. His words were rambling as his hands gestured, his gaze constantly and nervously flicking over to you to capture your reaction. To thrive on your appreciation that he was lucky enough to be a part of. To take in every bit of excitement to have your car back in relatively perfect condition. Eddie lived off every single gluttonous and desperate bite of your joy, until his brightened mood began swirling down the drain at that shift in your face. It was small at first. A change to your previously elated eyes. A twitch to your lips indicating a need to frown instead of smile, even if you did your best to hold it off. He was scrambling for crumbs now.
"I have my car back," you repeated now, a glum tone tinting the words that had excited you only a few seconds ago.
"Isn't... isn't that a good thing?" Eddie wondered with a partial laugh indicating his poorly masked nerves. His hands rubbed over the rough texture of his coveralls.
The fact that you sounded so ungrateful just now was not lost on you and formed into a sort of panic in your eyes.
"Yes! Yes, Eddie, of course,” your hands parted from the wheel to seek out his left arm, shifting your body to face him. “Thank you for everything. Really.”
His doubt dug into the lines on his face and the bags under his eyes. He kept his gaze on your hands, lips dried out by his constant picking and drag of his tongue now parting and closing as he tried to find his next question. Then why don’t you seem happy?
“It’s just,” you sighed, both hands sliding to his now. He stopped rubbing that hand against his thigh, slowing down to welcome the touch of your gentle but chilly fingers. “Well… I have my car back.”
"Oh, well that clarifies things," he murmured now, trying for a break in tension with his sense of humor. You rolled your eyes as you snickered with him, but there’s a softness now just like that first night he drove you back to the motel. His murmur about how cold your hands were could hardly even be heard before he enveloped them in both of his to warm them. The reason why you wished Sherry needed more work done floated around the air before you even spoke the words.
"You won’t be driving me around anymore," you finally admit. He continued to put all his attention on warming your hands, although his efforts slow just a touch. He wet his parched lips with a quick swipe of his tongue. His silence for even a matter of seconds was suffocating, and your need to fill that quiet took over with one more comment.
"Which sucks cause I've really liked sleeping in the passenger seat."
He gifted you that uneven smile of his as he let out a light laugh. He hardly adjusted the downward tilt to his head, staring at you through his lashes. His eyes had been rendered a dull bister in the poor lighting, but they certainly hadn’t lost their ability to lock you in place.
"It's not like we wont see each other," he offered, taking his eyes away from you once more to return his attention to your hands that were a perfectly normal temperature by that point. "Well, unless you were using me for free services and rides to work."
That cheekiness returned, his crooked smiling providing a slight glimpse at his teeth as he finally rolled his head to the side to fully look at you.
"Oh totally, I moved here just hoping you'd be a mechanic," you giggled.
"Can't beat a plan like that," fluffy hair shifted with a light shake of his head, one of his legs gently bouncing as a question comes to mind. He unfortunately removed his hold on your hands that you had grown accustomed to encasing you in his body heat. He smoothed his sweaty hands over his legs again, just hoping you weren’t put off by the perspiration.
"Hey, uhm...” he chanced a look over in your direction before instantly cowering to stare at his steel toe boots. “Why did you move?"
"Oh, well I..."
The sound of knuckles suddenly rapping on your window made both of you jump, hearts racing over Lin’s sudden appearance when your heads snap over in her direction. She motions rolling down the window, speaking up the second you do so.
“The streets might be flooding soon. I’m gonna leave early, okay?”
"Alright, be careful," Eddie replied, his brow furrowing as he tried to get a good look at the storm through one of the garage windows. "You sure you don't want me to drive you home?"
Lin waved him off but smiled anyways over his thoughtfulness.
"Johnny's actually picking me up on his way from grabbing the kids from their clubs. I can always come back for my car. You two be safe, okay?"
You both wished her the same, and she took one last look at the two of you with the kind of smile that earned her a warning glance from Eddie. The noise of rain sloppily pounding into asphalt and wind groaning temporarily swelled before being muffled again once the door shut.
"Guess we should head out too," you sighed, watching him step out of the car. He separated from you to look out the window.
"Do you want me to drop you off? It looks like it's really bad out there," he murmured as his brow frowned with concern. His lower lip rolled inward for him to nibble at.
"I think I'm still capable of driving in the rain," you snorted lightheartedly as you toyed with the open car door now that you were standing up. His worry remained anyways, glancing at you before his attention went right back to the window. You sighed, only earning his focus on you again at the sound of you closing your door.
"Really, Eddie, it's fine. You just did all that work. I promise Sherry can handle a little rain on my way back," you did your best to reassure him as he returned to you with an impish charm to his gait. The second he was close enough, you reach up to zip his coveralls the rest of the way to his collarbones as if that little bit of added protection would shield him completely from the elements.
"Besides, I'm not even on the way. You'd be adding an unnecessary trip when you should just be heading home."
"So, you admit it's dangerous out there right now," he tilted his head to one side, hair draping with him as he eyes you. A playful simper tugged at his lips over his efforts to balance messing with you and looking out for you. There's a beat of silence before you decide to distract from the current topic, rather than engage in his insistence to drive you.
"How much?" you asked, holding up your wallet from your purse.
Eddie began his whole act again where he cups his hand over his ear as he struggles to hear you, and you groan out a laugh, grabbing his wrist to gently try and tug his hand away from his ear.
"I'm paying you whether you like it or not, Eds," you insisted amidst your bubbling mirth which he joined in on.
"How about a compromise?" he offered at the tail end of his most recent chuckle, with a focused glint to his eyes as he slowly let his work jacket slide off of his arms.
"I'm not doing anything porn-y for the car work," you joked immediately, and he considered it a miracle that he didn't choke on his own spit. He cackled through it with a subdued Jesus... as his cheeks burned, draping his coat over your shoulders.
"Nothing like that," he clarified, hearing his own pulse in his ears from the heat that had crept up his neck. "I would consider you letting me drive you back as payment."
"Nope," you responded defiantly, popping the "p", and cheesing up at him. He slowly deflated with an exhale, quietly entering a staring contest with you as he juts out his arm to rest his hand on the roof of your car.
"You'll be on the roads longer for no reason. I'm paying you."
If it weren't for the fact that you'd lose the unofficial contest between your gazes, you'd immediately start fishing out cash from your wallet. Whatever amount that seemed appropriate, and then you'd ask Lin how much more tomorrow.
"Well," he sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced elsewhere. You won. "Then come over."
He brought his eyes back down to yours, grounding you enough in your spot that you didn't even flinch at the thunderclap outside. You searched for any signs that he was joking but find none. You glanced down at your hands, shaking your head and starting to mumble something about how you shouldn't.
"Last chance to use me as a personal driver," he teased in a whisper, leaning into your personal bubble as he grinned at you. "And I want you to come over. It'll..."
He sighed out again, one hand abandoning a pocket to gesture as he looked off to nowhere in particular, and you looked up at him again.
"It'll be like when we were kids. You come over, we probably eat garbage and watch tv. If the power goes out, you'll have fun watching me burn my thumb a million times while I try to light candles."
At that, you couldn't help but giggle. He held up his hand to your eye line where you could see that pink side of his thumb that he apparently still burned constantly. You'd figured he would've gotten better at handling a lighter, especially as a smoker, but apparently not.
"I dunno..."
"Are you really gonna deny me of my requested form of payment?" he whispered in faux shock, that hand now resting over his heart just like earlier. "As the mechanic, I have the right to withhold the vehicle if I don’t receive payment for my labor."
"I said I'm not doing anything porn-y, and that was right out of some porno and you know it," you reached out to grasp onto that hand over his chest as you both laugh, leaning into his personal space with an affinity for closeness akin to his.
"My, my... Been watching a lot of mechanic smut, Critter?"
That shit-eating grin gleaming down at you felt so natural coming from him, where it might have looked menacing on someone else. You nudged his chest with his own hand that you're still holding onto before separating from him again, giggles rising up in both of your chests.
"You're insufferable."
"And you love it!" he announced, giving the roof of your car a slap to celebrate his success before turning around to close up for the night.
*
Let it be known that you were grateful for Eddie loaning you his work jacket, but it didn't really save you from the rain as much as you had hoped it would. It was the kind of downpour that soaked through your clothing within a matter of seconds, leaving both of you with your hair drenched and flat against your heads as you shivered inside your saturated attire.
The cold sunk into every fiber of your being, leaving you shaking like a leaf inside his trailer as droplets clung to your lashes and dragged along your nose and lips. You blinked a few times in hopes of ridding yourself of the water in your view, licking your lips to stop the racing globules in their tracks.
"Here... here," Eddie breathed out, rushing over to you with a towel.
"Thank you," you got out through chattering teeth, slipping off his jacket so you could trade, and he could toss it into the drier. You shoved your face into the material he offered you, taking a moment to let its proximity warm your face before starting to rub at your hair.
"Do you want to take a quick shower? I could put your clothes in the drier too," he offered, and you notice his gaze move downward for a split second before shooting up to your eyes again. Usually, you'd insist he go first. It's his house, you don't want to be rude, really, it's fine you can go after him, blah, blah, blah. But you were frozen to your core. The storm had soaked your clothes to the point that they were clinging to you in the most uncomfortable way, and you could practically hear the heavy slap they'd make dropping to the bathroom floor. The sneakers you quickly slipped on earlier had filled with water, squishing with your every step and leaving that moist feeling in your socks that gave you unpleasant memories of some infection you had gotten as a kid after going to the local pool. You felt itchy already.
"Could I?"
"Of course. Yeah," Eddie nodded, long hair spraying some water around at the enthusiastic shake of his head. He held out a hand to guide you to his bathroom, settling it on your back as you passed by. He quickly showed you how to work the shower, including how hot water came from the cold faucet and vice versa.
"Just call for me when you're in the shower and I'll come grab your clothes,"
You thanked him as quickly as he rushed away and closed the door behind him so you wouldn't have to wait.
*
"Okay!" you shouted from inside the bathroom, and Eddie entered to collect the soggy pile of clothes left on the floor.
"I'll come back and leave something for you to wear until these 're dry," he held up the dripping mess in his hand even though you couldn't see his gesture.
"Thank you, Eddie," you murmured, voice steadily losing that previous shiver as steam filled the tiny room. "You're being so nice, I guess I'll have to leave some hot water for you, huh?"
Eddie snorted, flicking the shower curtain just to make you gasp.
"Never mind!" you called after him, amusement you wished you were better at disguising joining in with his cackling on his way out of the bathroom.
Along with his jacket, Eddie added your clothing to the machine snug beside that table for two he never used anymore. He could've tossed them into the tub without a second thought, but for some reason he added your garments in one by one. Wet pj pants that had been a gray plaid before the rain turned them into a sloppy black mess, a momentary glimpse of panties clung to the inside. Wet baby tee with that crummy little Aerosmith logo that surprisingly didn't melt away by this point. He’d have to give you something far better, even if it wasn’t as pleasantly form fitting. No bra, although he didn't need to do your laundry to know that -- especially after you were out in the rain. He tried not to linger on that fact like some adolescent boy who had never seen breasts before, but some small part of him that you brought out, the part of him that was stuck in a perpetual state of your childhood memories felt perverted and awkward. He felt like he saw something he wasn't supposed to, like a teen about to be chastised for sneaking past that red curtain at the video store.
You're a grown man, Jesus Christ.
He shook his head of his childish concerns and moved on to get you some pajamas from his bedroom.
*
You kept the shower brief even if you wanted to stay in the onslaught of hot water until it really did start to grow cold.
Since your visit was unexpected and your need for a shower even more so, you stepped out onto the bathmat smelling like Eddie. Some off brand body wash filled with aromatic spices and something floral you couldn't put your finger on, along with the matching shampoo and conditioner. You could see Eddie going through the toiletry aisle and just slapping that 3-pack deal into his cart with a simple Yeah, you'll do.
Padding over to the sink counter after drying off, something possessed you to bring the ends of your hair up to your nose and inhale his fragrance. It comforted you, yet made your heart skip a beat as you indulged in it. You're letting out a soothed sigh over the scent when his fist banged on the door.
"I'm naked!" you shrieked out of instinct.
"Good for you," he countered, and you rolled your eyes as you picked up the shirt he left for you. Dio. "My nuts are frozen."
"Good for you," you repeated back with a smirk, his groan sounding from outside the door. You slip on his shirt, the pair of blue boxers he left for you and pajama pants similar to the ones you had already been wearing earlier.
You didn't realize just how close he was waiting by the door until you swung it open and he was right there, the breeze created by the motion brushing both of your hair back.
"I left some popcorn on the counter if you want to make some while I'm in here," Eddie offered, hand settling on your side as you step out of the way. It's probably just to keep you where you are as he moves past you. It's subtle. Enough that you could've never caught it, but you did and with a blushing smile.
You stood there for a moment, toying with your hands as you actively reminded yourself of the importance of best friends staying best friends. You heard him trip over his coveralls, a wet squeak on the floor combining with a pitched Shit and his hand smacking on the wall as he caught himself. That should've pulled you out of it. That should've made it easier to roll your eyes and remember he's just your weird friend. But it didn’t. It made it harder.
"You alright in there?" you called out in a poor attempt to hide your amusement.
"Uh -- shit -- yeah! I'm fine!"
You snorted and walked down the hall with a warmth spreading from the center of your chest that made you feel like a complete and utter fool. You needed something to force you away from developing feelings for him. Something, but you couldn't think of what. He needed a detrimental, irredeemable flaw of some kind, but you couldn't think of any. He was sweet, funny, and caring. He was the kind of guy to give you his jacket, to really listen when you talk, to fix your car for you. He loved your happiness so much even when it was begrudging on part of his stupid jokes that he leaned into it. When he emphasized his words, he stepped closer. When your laugh made him laugh, he leaned further in. It was as if some part of him hoped that being closer would make it last longer. By brushing up against you, the memory of your reactions he adored so much would sink into his skin and he'd never have to lose how he felt in that moment.
He was Loogie, that obnoxious kid in the grade above you who would copy what you said right back to you until it made you furious, yet let you slept in his bed when nightmares woke you up in a mix of cold sweat and tears. He was Eddie, that grown man that lived in Indiana who was infuriatingly pretty and took care of anyone he felt lucky enough to still have in his life.
And he was your friend. Your best friend. And for once, you needed to fight those feelings like a punch to your gut and keep it that way.
You had gone into autopilot as you wandered through your thoughts, the only thing to pull you out of your own head being the smell of burning popcorn.
"Fuck," you hissed out, quickly pulling the bulging aluminum pan away from the stovetop. After scrambling through his drawers for his cutlery, you finally grab a fork to poke and prod at the container to check the damage.
"Remind me to never put you on popcorn duty again," Eddie chuckled as he walked in, still ruffling his hair with one towel, the other one draped loosely around his hips. Your gaze briefly traveled down before shooting up to his face again. "Had to come out here and make sure you weren't burning my trailer down."
With one hand, he tugged at the hot foil over and over to peel it back. The action was broken up by frequent jerks backwards as he hissed through his teeth over the heat.
"It's almost like your body is trying to tell you something, caveman," you joked, waving the fork around in front of him.
"That's quitter talk," he explained, a bit of his teeth flashing at you again as a partial smile formed. He inspected the popcorn and shrugged.
"Eh, should be fine. Probably just a bit burnt at the bottom,"
"Thank you, I never would've found that out on my own," you gasped, once again holding up that fork as he walks away again.
He turned to glance at you one more time as he approached the corner before the hall. He made a few caveman-like grunts, and you couldn't help but drop your head back with hearty laughter.
*
Falling seamlessly into old habits, you were both staying up past your bedtime. Every now and then, at the occasional yawn you’d remind him he had work in the morning and he’d shrug it off. You’d nod off here and there, and he’d remind you that you had a shift in the evening. I can sleep in late, you can’t you’d argue.
You binged popcorn as he threw out jokes about how if pretzels aren’t dinner, then why is popcorn? That typically earned him a kernel flung at his head, which he’d open his mouth for to try and catch because for whatever reason he liked crunching on them. He never caught one, though, and one even got him right in the eye. He was as theatrical as ever about it as you apologized incessantly and tried to get a good look at it. You shot me, you shot me he’d cough out until he was cackling when you smacked at his chest.
At some point, you considered figuring out a real dinner, but Eddie and you were so full of snacks that a meal on top of that would have only been a one-way ticket to puking on his rug. Again.
So there you were. Full of a myriad of snacks in place of an actual dinner and sprawled out on his couch as you zoned out to whatever was on the TV. He apologized for the constant drafts that sent shivers down your spine whenever they made their way through the mobile home. You couldn’t be bothered to care about breezes working through the cracks and crevices of his home; the two of you huddled together under a bunch of blankets as you laid against his arm, until he eventually raised it up to settle on the back of the couch and you rested on his chest instead.
You stared thoughtlessly at the commercial currently going on about McDonald’s new burger option. 91% fat free? Yuck. You sighed over the lack of stimulation, seeking out a conversation instead.
“I wish it was colder,” you murmured suddenly, and his disbelieving guffaw shook your head where it was resting.
“What? It’s true,” you insisted as you moved from resting against him to get a better look at him. “If it was any colder, we’d have snow,”
Eddie tilted his head to the side as he stared at you, taking in the way you beamed even in your fatigued state. Movement from the television flashed against your features in the dark, dancing along your skin as your eyes filled with excitement over snow that wasn’t even here yet. He bent his arm at the elbow to squish his cheek against his fist, looking at you in a way that just-a-friend should never look at another just-friend. His lashes fluttered and he let out a soft breath through his nose, thoughts of your lips drawn back in that pretty smile swirling around in his sleepy brain like those flurries you loved so dearly until he finally broke free by clearing his throat and glancing away. He faked a yawn until it turned into a real one, pushing himself on the couch cushions to sit up more.
“You really want blizzards before Halloween?”
“Well, no… I guess not,” you hummed out, glancing down at his bouncing leg that was nudging you. “Just can’t wait for that first snowfall.”
“You say that until the plows come through and all the snow is turned into filthy piles and you’re eating shit after slipping on ice,” he pointed out, dragging his grinning teeth over his lower lip at the glare you gave him.
“You’re so gloomy.”
“So is Winter, but you like it,” he pointed his finger at you now as he makes his argument. He snatched it back with a lazy huff of a snicker when you pretend to go and bite it like you used to.
“Yeah, you’re alright,” you murmured, leaning in. You’re centimeters away from his face, kicking up his heart rate as his eyes dart over your facial features. “I guess I’ll keep you.”
At that, you pulled away from him completely to get up off the couch and he’s left stumbling over what to say as he recollected himself. Eddie lets out a halfhearted laugh, craning his neck to watch you get a glass of water.
“That’s plagiarism, y’know. I could sue,” he threatened, but his smile showed just how hollow it was.
Your giggle weaved through his trailer, and it made it a home worth living in for the first time in years, even if he was sure the increase in value left him horribly unworthy of having it. He observed the way you moved in his small kitchen, in his old clothes that sat loosely on your form. And at that gnawing feeling in his gut – he forced his tired, sad, unworthy eyes away.
*
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meet-me-backstage · 2 months
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𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎸 Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🎸 You play at the Hideout with your band, Stake For My Valentine, every night - you're considered the metal queen of the bar and your band are the rulers of the roost, famously loved by the Hideout's local drunks. However, when a band named Corroded Coffin land their first gig there, the sparse crowd warm quickly to the unique and awkward charm of the leading metal head, Eddie Munson.
However, you don't warm to him so easily - in fact, you don't warm to him at all. Eddie, on the other hand, worships the ground you walk on and doesn't hesitate to make it known, leading to a cold rejection from you.
Band rivalry occurs - you vs. Eddie, Stake For My Valentine vs Corroded Coffin.
You hate each other... but one night everything changes when a plan is created and executed by yours and Eddie's bandmates with the intention of bringing you two together and harmony between the bands.
𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🎸 bad language, angst, mention and consumption of drugs, mention and consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendos, mention of blood, Eddie wearing eyeliner bcuz damn😍, some typical bar fight drunkard violence and SMUT so you must be 18+ to read‼️
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 🎸 10K words.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 🎸 bad language, angst, mention of smut, blood, mention and consumption of drugs and alcohol.
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐱, 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 ‘𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐨𝐫 ‘𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!)… 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭!
𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!
𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 <𝟑
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⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫
𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 • 𝟑𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 • 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓
'He's just a loser with a guitar.'
'You're a dick but I think I've fallen in love with you.'
'I fucking hate you Eddie Munson.'
'No I don't.'
You stare down at your lyric book with tired eyes, trying to decipher the scribbles of words that you'd crossed out and areas where you'd pressed the pen so hard against the paper that you ripped away some of it. They were all lines that you'd written over the weekend, ever since you'd gotten home from almost fucking Eddie Munson outside the Hideout, from realising that he had been the most beautiful guy you'd ever met and from crying so hard about him that you thought your eyes may fall out due to being so exhausted.
Elektra, Alyssa and Cherie are sat in the back room that had once been only yours, you can't help but think about how much the dynamic had changed since Corroded Coffin had stumbled through the doors behind you - you'd been so occupied with them that you realised that you hadn't even spoken to your band since last Friday...
Since I fucked it all up... I used to tell them everything... they're my best friends, my only friends - well, maybe not anymore since I've kept secrets and treated them like complete garbage... but we were always there for each other at school - always, surely they'll forgive me? I don't know, maybe Saturday night was the last straw, maybe I've fucked up one too many times.
You hear Cherie's voice through the door, it's muffled, but loud and it snaps you away from your thoughts.
You quickly slam your lyric book shut in your hand and take a deep breath that lasts for about five seconds before exhaling...
I've got nothing to lose now... I just hope Alyssa kept her word about not telling Elektra and Cherie what happened between me and Eddie.
With a determined stare, you head straight for the door like a missile to it's target, your worn and cracked black leather boots, as usual, thudding on the old floorboards of the Hideout. They can hear your footsteps because as soon as you start walking their voices go quiet, immediately knowing that it is you who had just entered the bar rather than a drunk that has nothing to do apart from sit at the bar and drink all day on a Monday.
You knock on the door, your knuckles brushing against the red tape that label the initials of yours and Eddie's bands on it.
Elektra clears her throat, you assume it's her because a few seconds later she calls out to you, "Come on in!" She didn't sound like her usual self who would crack a joke or dirty innuendo whenever you would walk into the room, starting band practice with a bellow of laughter from all four of you.
You grip onto the handle of the door, your forehead almost touching the wood before you slowly push it open, revealing your bandmates one by one.
Alyssa is sat on the manky rug in the middle of the room, tapping away at it with her drumsticks loosely gripped by her hands. Elektra is stood by Alyssa wielding her black and purple Jackson Dinky electric guitar, she's staring down at it so you can't see her face because her black hair, identical to Alyssa's, which is styled into a shorter mullet than her younger sister's, is falling in front of her green eyes, also identical to Alyssa's. Then, lastly, you see Cherie, with her bleach blonde hair as bright as ever, she is sat on the couch with her black Danelecto 58 Longhorn bass guitar nestled in the space beside her.
"Hi," you sigh, stepping into the room and gently setting your guitar case down beside you before turning around and shutting the door. The creak of the door being closed completely grabs all three of your bandmate's attention. They all look disappointed, confused, disheartened and it's all so quiet suddenly, Alyssa's drum beat couldn't be heard, Elektra is holding tightly to the neck of her guitar and Cherie has her mouth tightly shut. "Sorry I'm late," you mumble.
"Again," Elektra adds, rolling her eyes after.
You blow a puff of air out of your mouth, glancing down at your boots, briefly thinking about the words you'd rehearsed for them all day yesterday. "I - er I know - I'm sorry - I'm letting you guys down. I've been a real selfish bitch the last few weeks-," you sigh out with a nervous chuckle before your eyes flicker between all three of your friends, "I'm completely aware of that now and I'm sorry - so fuckin' sorry. I've not listened to you, I've been slacking at band practice, I've kept you in the dark, I've not been a good friend and I almost got us kicked out of here by Keith... I know now that it's all my fault - not Corroded fuckin' Coffin's... I - I guess I just didn't want to admit that I'm not as good as I thought."
"But you are, V," Cherie, who is, as usual, your number one fan even after letting her down.
Both Alyssa and Elektra nod in agreement with Cherie. "Exactly - that's why we're all so confused," Elektra, confesses. "You've never ever let us down in all the years that we've played together - so why are you now?" She pleads for an answer, accentuating her words by pointing the neck of her guitar at you.
You fiddle with your fingers, picking at the already chipped black nail varnish on your left index finger because you hadn't exactly prepared to answer that exact question. "I dunno - but I promise I won't fuck up any more than I already have, okay?" You look at each of your bandmates earnestly.
Elektra shakes her head while looking you dead in the eye, "Why're you avoiding the question?"
"I'm not!" You retort defensively.
"Vamp," Elektra states sternly, raising her thin dark eyebrows at you.
You realise again that you're acting the exact opposite way that you'd promised not to act, "Sorry - sorry - I er - I guess it's the... the competition." You bring a hand up to your forehead and shake your head at yourself, "It got to my head because - we've always been the band of weirdos who play metal music here every night without fail - and then suddenly these even weirder weirdos come into the picture and-," you let your hand fall from your forehead back down to your side, "We're not the only ones anymore and I felt - threatened by 'em because it was always just us... but I should've known that it wouldn't stay that way forever."
Elektra and Cherie nod in unison, but Alyssa stays completely still and silent which attracts your attention.
"Can I talk to you for a second, Al?" You take a step towards her while pointing your thumb over your shoulder towards the door behind you.
Alyssa looks at you, still hurt by what she'd seen you doing with Eddie on Saturday as her eyes are sunken in from not sleeping and her lips are pointing downwards at both corners of her mouth. She shakes her head, "Whatever you've got to say, you can say it here because we're a team - that's what a band is, right?"
You exhale through your nose, nodding at the same time, "Right," you mumble under your breath and fiddle with your fingers, still picking away at the black nail varnish on your nails. "I-."
Am I really going to tell them about what happened between me and Eddie?
Should I?
Yes... no... yes, no more lies, Vamp... no - I can't do it... I have to, to prove to Alyssa that I'm still as serious as I was when we first formed our alliance in school... besides, what happened between me and Eddie - it was nothing, it meant nothing... but if it meant nothing, why would I tell them? As far as Eddie is concerned, it never happened and we're never gonna kiss again, he sure seemed determined about that... I should forget about it all too, and I should definitely forget about how good it felt to kiss his lips...
You realise that your silence is raising suspicion from Elektra and Cherie, who are examining you wearily with crossed arms and expectant looks on their faces now, while Alyssa is nodding for you to just spit your words out... probably urging you to blurt out your undying love for Eddie Munson, to admit that your judgment of him and his band had been entirely wrong - therefore ending the little feud between Stake For My Valentine and Corroded Coffin that you'd caused so that she and Gareth could run into the sunset together finally.
I admit that I'd been wrong to try and stop Alyssa from having feelings for him... even though I still don't understand why of all the weirdos and freaks she fell for Gareth - I mean, I guess he is kinda cute and can play the drums like a champ... plus he's totally her number one fan - I'm sure if I asked him, Alyssa would be his favorite drummer of all time... so who am I to deny a friend her happiness for the sake of Eddie fuckin' Munson?
You look at Alyssa with big, apologetic eyes. She is still silently pleading with you, holding her drumsticks in a vice-like grip while she waits for your words. "I just wanted to-," you shake your head, closing your eyes for a moment before staring at Alyssa again, "I owe you an extra apology, Al - I'm - so - sorry about what happened the other night-."
"Wait - what happened the other night exactly?" Elektra asks with a quizzical look on her face, her petite nose scrunching up slightly as she stares down at Alyssa.
Alyssa sheepishly looks between you and her big sister, clearly feeling guilty for keeping what she had seen occur between you and Eddie a secret from her own flesh and blood... "Al did nothing wrong, El - I'm not gonna let her take the flack when it was all me." Elektra drags her eyes away from Alyssa to you, still with her arms crossed. Her pale face with dark eyeliner around her piercingly light green eyes intimidate you, making you break eye contact and instead you focus on your fingers still chipping away at your nail varnish, "I - I did something really - really - really fuckin' stupid."
Cherie furrows her fair brows, looking at Elektra, who looks back at her, confirming that they are just as confused as the other person.
"What did you do, V?" Cherie asks, tearing her longing eyes away from Elektra to look at you again.
You don't have to lift your head up to know that all six of your bandmate's eyes combined are staring into your soul right now... I need to just spit it out right now. You gulp, struggling to speak because you're too busy trying to relax your heartbeat and choking on your spit that had gathered in your mouth from trying to process words that just refused to leave your mouth, "I - I-."
"Vamp," Elektra interrupts before uncrossing her arms lazily, "If we don't have trust anymore we've got nothing left - so we may as well call it quits-."
Your neck snaps up so quickly to meet eyes with your bandmates that you almost get whiplash from the desperation because you are not ready to give up on this band yet, and definitely not because of a reason that doesn't even exist anymore - I mean nothing to Eddie and he means nothing to me... and Stake For My Valentine mean everything to me. "I-made-out-with-Eddie-after-his-gig-on-saturday-because-he-wrote-the-most-beautiful-song-for-me-and-also-Rodrick-was-making-out-with-some-girl-he-met-that-night-I-think-and-Alyssa-saw-the-entire-thing-oh-and-I-made-our-fifteen-fans-hate-us-because-Rodrick-got-me-drunk-the-night-before-and-I-called-them-all-assholes-for-going-to-Corroded-Coffin's-first-gig-here-."
All three of your bandmates look entirely bewildered by your rambling, with wide eyes and their mouths hung open in shock that your mouth could move so fast.
Cherie's back has thrusted forward away from the couch, leaning closer to you as if it can help her try to understand what you are saying, but she realises that she can't because she uses her hands to motion you to calm down and stop talking, "Woah woah woah, slow down, V!”
Elektra nods in agreement with Cherie. "I think I can vouch for us all by saying that we got none of that," Elektra gestures to Cherie and Alyssa, who nod in agreement, "Could you start again and maybe - step on the break a little for us?"
You nod, staggered breaths leaving your mouth while trying to catch as much air as possible because your rambling has left you pretty light-headed, "Okay - okay." Deep breaths, Vamp - here goes nothing... you bring one of your hands up to scratch the back of your neck, "I sorta made out with Eddie after his gig on Saturday-."
"You sorta what?!" Elektra blurts out before covering her mouth with one of her hands, her silver bangles around her wrist clashing loudly against each other from the speed.
You nervously glance at Cherie, who had loudly gasped at your confession, before acknowledging Alyssa, who also looked shocked that you'd actually told them. You give Alyssa a small nod before audibly inhaling another long breath, "Yeah er - I came onto him after he er - I mean - after I saw Rodrick with another girl-."
"But - I thought you hated Eddie?" Cherie asks, completely gobsmacked.
"So did I," Elektra adds while Alyssa mumbles a sorrowful 'me too' in sync with her sister.
"I do," you gulp, fleetingly looking down at the stained rug underneath your feet, "I do hate him," you repeat with much more assurance, though your face doesn't show it. You blink... if I just keep talking about how much I hate him they've gotta believe me eventually... "I hate him so much, he's so - he's so - ugh, everything he does just infuriates me so much that I just wanna-," kiss him so hard that it bruises his lips? Slap his cute face silly while I give him the ride of his life? Suck his soul out through his dick? Sit on his face? "Die? Yeah - he makes me wanna - die."
Huh - that has an interesting ring to it. I should write it down in my lyric book.
Elektra, Cherie and Alyssa all exchange bewildered looks. Cherie then mouths a shocked 'wow' at Elektra while Alyssa looks up at you, even more confused than she appeared to be before you’d opened your mouth about Eddie.
"I thought-," Alyssa speaks, but before she can reveal that Eddie had written a song about you, or the way that you looked at him like you look at your electric guitar... which is totally not true because I could never spare a spot alongside my Pink Special or Eddie Van Halen in my heart - there is no space for Eddie Munson in there and there never will be... you shake your head frantically.
"I - I did it to get back at Rodrick," you interrupt Alyssa boldly, defensively, lying through your teeth while trying to maintain confident eye contact with her.
"But-."
"There's no other reason, Al," You declare before chuckling nervously, "C'mon - why else would I kiss Eddie Munson?"
Alyssa's face drops a little, her eyes, rather than being wide, they are now sad again, reminding you of the disappointed look that she sent you when she left you alone with Eddie on Saturday, "Cause you like him like I like Gareth?" She suggests with a small, hopeful tone of voice.
You hear Elektra and Cherie giggling to themselves, they fill in the silence after Alyssa's suspicion towards your denial for having feelings for Eddie.
Your head continues to shake frantically in complete denial, "No - no, not like you and Gareth," you tell her with another nervous laugh after, "You and Gareth - you're perfect for each other, I understand that now and I shouldn't have gotten in the way of the two of you just because he's the drummer in a band we're in fierce competition with... but there is no me and Eddie and that's all there is to it."
You spot the glint of happiness in Alyssa's dark green eyes, but it leaves as quickly as it comes when you continue to deny anything more than indifference for Corroded Coffin and hate for Eddie Munson. It frustrates her because she saw how you danced to their music, how you gave the lead singer heart eyes throughout their entire gig and how you genuinely enjoyed yourself in the presence of Corroded Coffin despite the battle between them and Stake For My Valentine to claim the Halloween gig. She thought that you felt it too, a connection between the bands that overpowered the competition... but perhaps you weren't quite as on the same page as she thought you had been.
"So - what about Eddie?" Alyssa asks, her voice almost sounds afraid.
Your head tilts to the side and you shrug your shoulders, trying to act as casually as you can, as if you hadn't been able to get Eddie off of your mind since you cleared the air between your mouth and his… and failed, "What about 'im?"
"How does he feel about what happened?" She asks matter of factly, one of her dark brows raising at you.
It feels like your heart is sinking down your body at the reminder of how yours and Eddie's last bicker battle...
'Don't you dare follow me this time, Munson - because I won't be kissing you again!'
'Good!'
'Fantastic!'
A drawn out, quiet sigh leaves your lips, "Nothing," your shoulders hunch over slightly after you shrug them, "He hates me as much as I hate him-," you take in each of your bandmate's facial expressions and they all look completely unconvinced by your answer, "but we're both on the same page - we're here for the music. We're all here for the music, aren't we?" You question them as a way to divert their attention from you and Eddie.
All three of your bandmates hum in unison, looking amongst each other and you nod in response to their agreement.
"So we're all in this battle to win the Halloween gig back, right?" You speak entirely with confidence now, ignoring the joy that you felt when you were at Corroded Coffin's gig and completely thinking about the joy you'll feel when your fans vote Stake For My Valentine as the winners of the Battle of the Bands... if I win their loyalty back tonight.
"Right," Elektra, Cherie and Alyssa all respond in sync, nodding at the same time.
You nod slowly with a hopeful smile on your face and determination in your eyes, "Exactly, so we've gotta blow our crowd's minds tonight with epic solos and new material," you keep nodding, looking between your bandmates, who are staring at you with intense excitement in their eyes, their postures are gradually lifting from being slouched before, "We can't waste a second today so what'd ya say?" A cheeky grin spreads across your lips.
Cherie mirrors your cheeky grin before nodding eagerly, "Let's fuckin' do this," she jumps off of the couch and hops towards you while lifting her arm up, waiting for everyone else to do the band chant that the four of you usually do before a practice or gig.
Elektra steps forward and stands directly in front of you, a smile spreading across her lips too as she lifts her hand. You give her a small nod before looking down at Alyssa, who looks up at you wearily for a few moments before deciding to join the triangle that you, Elektra and Cherie had made. You all stand in a circle now with your arms lifted, your firsts balled as if you are holding wooden stakes and are about to drive them through a kneeling vampire in the middle of your circle.
"Three - two - one... watch it!" In unison, you all clench your fists, "Look behind you - beside you - inside you - don't underestimate a Vamp's power - it hides in plain sight - it hides before your eyes!" You all move your heads in the directions that you chant before dramatically tearing your eyes away from each other and looking down at the space in front of you within the circle. "Drive a stake through the heart and knock 'em dead!" You throw your arms down together as if you are going in for the killing of an imaginary vampire, a ritual that you'd all created and participated in for good luck since your very first gig at the Hideout.
The four of you cheer as if there hadn't been any tension between them and you, they're all driven by the adrenaline that the chant always gives you that would usually last until the end of a practice or a show, but this time the energy is very short-lived as your cheers fade quickly into an awkward silence.
Elektra clears her throat as realisation spreads across her features, "We don't have any new material."
"Ah ah ah - that's where you're wrong," you bring your hand that's still holding your lyric book up to your face, waving it beside your head while you smile devilishly, "I've got the perfect song for us to play tonight right here."
Elektra wraps her arms around her black and white striped t-shirt, hugging herself and pressing her fingertips into the back hem of her black leather pants, "I'm a little scared," she says with a chuckle.
"You should be," you tell her with a giggle.
⎈ 🎸 ⎈
By the time you're ready to go on stage you're high and drunk, which isn't usually a problem when you haven't been an emotional mess for days. It was what the four of you usually did during practices and before gigs just to take the edge off, to get rid of nerves and any stress or pressure. However, tonight you feel it all and with each pint of beer that you downed and each drag that you took of weed, your emotions seemed to heighten rather than lessen.
With each hour that passed during your practice, you noticed Rodrick's absence from it - he'd usually join your practice by sitting on the couch ogling you or maybe take over on the drums briefly while Alyssa took a small break. There was no sign of him today, but you were sure that he was just hiding away up in his room all day.
The four of you now are sat on the couch, squished together like a bunch of fish in a fishbowl, sharing one last joint before going on stage.
Each time you pass the joint to each other in a line that's going back and forth, you sink more into the couch with your limbs intertwined with Alyssa's and Cherie's, who are sat on either side of you.
Elektra is sat on the other side of Cherie, and has her arm flirtatiously wrapped around her... you'd have been a fool not to notice the massive crush that they had on each other since high school, fleeting looks, touches and blushes at your table in the cafeteria, so you and Alyssa weren't surprised when they announced their 'on the low' relationship when you all left school... they'd blossomed just as you had when the four of you found the Hideout because not only could they play the music they loved, the pair could also love each other and not be afraid of what anybody thought of them in a place where they could be free - you could all be free.
You can hear the bar starting to get rowdy on the other side of the door, muffled chattering, glasses clinking and music playing from the stereo... another ordinary night at the Hideout, you think with a dreamy smile, resting the back of your head on the couch... little do they know, we're about to play the goddamn bar right down.
A small knock interrupts your daydreaming and all four of you sit up in sync, staring at the door like deer in headlights.
When you see Rodrick's face peeking his head through the door and frame you feel the same boiling in your blood that you felt on Saturday when you saw him kissing someone else.
I wonder if she's here tonight?
His brown hair is more wild than usual, he's gelled it into more of a spiky texture, and is wearing what he usually wears, his old 'Löded Dyper' shirt that you woke up in on Saturday afternoon last week, a pair of ripped black jeans and his dirty black converse.
His tired, dull brown eyes flicker at you for not even a second before focusing on your bandmates, "The - stage is ready for you," he mumbles half-heartedly, refusing to even acknowledge your presence in the room before quickly shutting the door and leaving the four of you alone again.
You close your eyes and sink back into the couch while Elektra, Cherie and Alyssa exchange looks between each other, you and the door that Rodrick had disappeared behind.
Don't you dare even think about that asshole - get the fuck up off of this couch and get on that stage.
You monitor your breathing for a moment because seeing Rodrick had instantly brought that night back to you - your heated moment with Eddie. It makes your breath hitch before you take another deep breath, trying desperately to forget the existence of a certain long-haired, doe-eyed, adorable metal head...
I'll show him... I'll show them all.
"Let's fuckin' show them all what we're made of," you state before suddenly springing up off of the couch, almost tripping over the rug and falling face first onto the floor, though you manage to find your balance by taking a few quick steps towards the door.
You throw your arms out towards the door to halt yourself from head butting the wall or floor and close your eyes to brace yourself from the inevitability of falling down, but instead you find yourself hearing the door creak, opening again, and being caught in a pair of arms, "Rodrick I swear to the metal gods above I will swing my fist at your stupid face and shove my guitar up your ass," you ramble angrily, hitting your fists into his chest while your face is also nuzzled into him.
"Woah - Jesus H. - Christ - will you stop - hitting me when - I'm trying to - save you?!" You hear Eddie's voice in between your hits on his chest, but they gradually stop when you realise that it had been him who had caught you before you could fall onto the floor in front of the crowd waiting for you to take the stage.
You relax, hiding against his frame while nuzzling your nose against his chest, now realising that the texture of the shirt he's wearing is completely different to the one Rodrick is wearing... the smell is also different, while Rodrick's smells of weed and cigarettes, Eddie's also smells of weed and cigarettes - but with an added scent of musk that you could easily get used to.
"What are you doing here?" You grumble, gathering the courage to finally look up at him. To your annoyance, he looks as beautiful as ever and it takes everything in you not to wrap your arms around his neck to be even closer to him... but I know I can't... he doesn't want me anymore.
Eddie chuckles, which makes his chest sort of vibrate against your upper half, causing warmth to spread all through you, "I might not want to uh - kiss you - again... but I wasn't gonna miss your show - 'm still Stake's uh - biggest fan y'know," he looks down, huffing a small chuckle whilst blinking his eyes closed so he can avoid eye contact with you.
He can't even look at me now... which feels like a stab to your heart because you realise just now that looking into his pretty brown eyes is a privilege that you took for granted until you no longer had his eyes only on you.
You nod a little, focusing on the silver pendant sat neatly beside his red guitar pick attached to a silver chain around his neck, "No I - I meant - what are you doing here?"
"Oh uh-," his eyes trail from your boots, to your fishnet tights, to your oversized white t-shirt, to your neck, to your eyes, but you could've sworn that for a millisecond he looked at your lips, "I - uh - I wanted to uh - uh-," it's like your eyes have him under a spell because he can't look away now, it takes a massively deep breath for him to get his words out, "'S stupid - but I uh - came to say good luck - so uh - good luck."
"Thank you - I guess?" You mumble nervously, on the brink of crumbling in his arms and telling him that you do, in fact, want to kiss him again.
Eddie hums, tearing his eyes away from you at the same time you awkwardly look away from him, "I should - uh - I should go um - back to - Gareth." He looks over your head, being a head taller than you now means that it doesn't take much effort for him to look behind you, seeing your bandmates watching you both, in shock and holding onto each other for dear life.
You have to stand on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder to see that you have gained some attention from a few familiar faces that you'd see in your usual crowd from the stage - Joan looked shocked, Troy looked a tad more shocked and Victoria looked even more shocked than them combined, probably because you were in talking distance, let alone being enveloped in the arms of your competition... and on top of that, you weren't fighting to get away.
Your bottom lip falls slightly, but you have no words to say as you feel numb... the weed is definitely not helping me right now - I can't move...
Eddie watches you, appearing completely uncomfortable in his arms, horrified by his touch and the audience that you were getting from being close to him. He clears his throat, "Sorry - I uh - I didn't want an - audience either," he sighs, slowly unwrapping his arms from your waist and suddenly you feel so cold... he can't even stand to be seen near me... another stabbing sensation to your heart, you visibly shiver and falter slightly from no longer having him to lean on, which he notices, "you okay?"
So now he cares…
You give him a hard stare while the rest of your body feels numb and warm from the weed and alcohol, "Mhm fine - I'm fine," you slur unconvincingly, causing Eddie to furrow his brows at you and take a step closer only for you to step away, "Go a-away," your voice cracks and you shake your head. Eddie continues to stare at you, his facial features no longer hard or distant, now they are sad and he looks like a lost puppy that has no idea what to do or where to go, whether to help you and stay or do what you say and go... you can see the battle he's fighting in his head so you take a shaky breath, your stare at him turning into a glare, "Go."
Eddie falters, the battle in his head coming to an end as he reaches a decision, he nods and looks down at his fidgeting hands before silently turning himself around and walking away... like I told him to.
You take a harsh breath in through your nose, ignoring the tears that are threatening to spill from your eyes... no no no, Vamp - you said you weren't gonna cry over Eddie Munson again... you exhale as steadily as you can, successfully stopping a single tear from running down your cheeks, "May the best band win, Munson!" You shout to him as he walks through the small crowd that are now only staring at you. You fight the urge to say something like 'what are you looking at?' to the entire group of onlookers that had just witnessed everything including the scene you created after Stake For My Valentine's gig last Friday...
They must think I've really gone off the rails - I've gotta prove them wrong right now...
You look over your shoulder at your bandmates, who are still sunken into the couch watching your every move, before motioning with your hand for them to join you by the door leading into the bar area. "Let's knock 'em dead," you state, referring to your chant with a forced smile, after picking up your guitar and swinging the strap over your shoulder until your Pink Special hits your lower stomach.
Elektra and Cherie walk together with their instruments in one hand and reaching for each other's spare hands, squeezing tightly while they walk and nod your way. They give each other a kiss before running up the three steps onto the platform side by side, being careful not to hit their instruments against the wall because the steps are pretty narrow for two people to be on them at the same time.
Alyssa walks your way alone, wielding her drum sticks tightly in her left hand, but before she passes you at the door she stops walking and leans her mouth close to your ear, "It's for Eddie, isn't it? Not Rodrick," she whispers before pulling away and searching your eyes for the truth.
Your eyes flicker between hers before your guard breaks at the mention of the 'new material' you'd practiced all day long, a song of the lyrics you hadn't stopped writing since the early hours of Sunday morning, "It's for Eddie," you admit under your breath, but loud enough for Alyssa to hear, with a hasty nod.
Alyssa nods with you before giving you a satisfied, closed mouthed smile, “Knew it.” She brings her right hand up to squeeze your shoulder and tips her cowboy hat to you with her left hand while holding the drumsticks, almost dropping them while doing so, making the two of you giggle together.
"Let's - knock 'em - dead," Alyssa repeats your words from before with an amused grin on her face and small giggles in between them. She then grabs your left hand with her right one, pulling you towards the stage and up the small staircase.
You grasp onto your Pink Special with your right hand, clutching the back of it's body to your hip tightly as you run up the stairs with Alyssa. You can hear claps, cheers, but they're not as loud as they had been before the battle of the bands competition had been thought up by Rodrick.
You're facing your band as you take your pink guitar pick from behind your ear and hold it between your teeth, watching your bandmates as they adjust themselves - you wait for their approval to start the first song.
You bounce on your feet, psyching yourself up physically and mentally for the next hour and fifteen minutes because you know that to gain your great, hard-working, dedicated lead singer and guitarist reputation back… I need to put everything into this.
When all three of your bandmates nod you drop your pick from your teeth and let it land in your hand before spinning on your heel to face the crowd... and it's way bigger than you thought it would be - you've got a crowd bigger than when Stake For My Valentine were the only band playing at the Hideout... granted, it is about ten more people than usual, but that makes ten more than the familiar fifteen faces that you usually see towards the front.
A dreamy smile spreads across your mouth when you strum the first chord of Light Me Up, one of the first songs that you wrote when you were a junior at Hawkins High, before you'd even met your bandmates in Stake For My Valentine... it's a fan favorite that you typically play at the end of your gig, but earlier the four of you, with some convincing on your part, decided to move to the very beginning of the setlist.
So when the fifteen familiar faces hear the A chord that sets a moody, but lively atmosphere which sends everybody into a wild frenzy, you notice them all reliving every moment that they jumped and danced to this very song with you for the last two years.
You take a quick step towards the microphone, your lips brush against it, “Hey lovers,” you mumble with a cheeky grin on your face, sending a wink to one of your most loyal fans, Joan, who is now looking at you in awe rather than in shock, “Did ya miss us?”
‘Fuck yeahs’ and ‘we missed yous’ echo throughout the room, causing you to giggle into the mic, but then you hear a ‘did you miss us?’
“Sure I did - you guys are family,” you answer, flashing Lisa, another familiar face, a toothy grin before focusing on your guitar and the instruments being played behind you, signalling you to start singing. “Does what I’m wearing seem to shock you?” You sing into the mic, widening your eyes and looking down at your outfit as if you can’t believe what you’re wearing.
Your eyes scan the crowd towards the back as you sing, but you’re very quickly distracted with the sight of Stake For My Valentine’s booth being occupied by none other than Rodrick, who isn’t alone… you assume that it’s the same girl that he was kissing before, but as you look closer, you can see that it’s not now because she has much longer black hair, while the girl from before had mid-length chestnut brown hair…
so I really was just another name on his list of sex conquests?
That thought alone makes you stutter your lyrics, which diverts Rodrick’s attention from the girl sat opposite him to you. He’s leaning over the table, his face just inches away from her’s, but he continues to stare at you with a devious grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I’ve got it on my mind to change my ways,” you sing as your stare on Rodrick hardens. You suck in the anger that you feel, expressing it through your strong voice, “But I don’t think I can be anything other than me - No I don’t think I can be anything other than me.”
Rodrick glares back at you, but is forced to drag his eyes away from you because the girl he’s with grabs his shirt by the neckline and pulls him in for a messy kiss… though his eyes are open and looking at you the entire time his tongue is in her mouth.
“Do you think it’s right - when you knock me to the ground,” your eyelids flutter shut and you turn your face away from Rodrick, instead, putting all of your focus into the dancing crowd directly in front of you, “Well - light me up when I’m down!”
A bunch of your dedicated fans and your bandmates start to sing the chorus with you, “Light me up when I’m down!” An unconscious grin forms on your lips while you sing the line, you bob your head which makes your hair fly crazily in every direction possible.
You’re having the time of your life with your bandmates and your fans, all dancing wildly together and you feel as though, through your music, you’ve made up with them all… like everything you ever did to let them down had been erased by how metal your performance was. Like you’d promised yourself earlier today, you put every fibre of your being into throwing yourself around the stage, your singing and guitar solos… so by the time you’ve reached the end of the second to last song on your setlist, sweat is dripping from your forehead, all four of your limbs are numb and you’re completely exhausted.
You breathe heavily before laughing breathlessly into the microphone because as you stagger towards it you almost fall, but catch yourself by grabbing onto the microphone stand, “Woah - that was close, huh?”
The small crowd cheers in agreement, laughing with you.
“Okay,” you sigh, taking another few desperate breaths to try and calm your frantic heartbeat, “We’ve got one last song for you tonight!”
Another loud cheer in response to you.
You grin mischievously, wrapping your left hand, which is clammy with sweat, around the neck of your guitar while your right one keeps a grip on the microphone stand to keep you stable, “Do you dare to hear it?”
A few screams can be heard from the front, while everyone else cheers again (apart from Rodrick and his most recent fuck buddy, but you don’t give a shit about either of them).
“Well you better because it’s a new little treat-,” you state in a playfully stern tone, scanning the many faces in the crowd, but your eyes unexpectedly land on Eddie’s starstruck one towards the back of the cluster of people before you, “From me to you,” you maintain eye contact with Eddie, the adrenaline buzzing through your body stopping you from being too nervous to admit it. Your fans express their excitement through more cheers, but Eddie’s jaw drops a little and is frozen, just like you had been when he sang his song for you, “Here goes - you make me wanna die.”
You look over your shoulder at Alyssa and nod your head before she hits her drumsticks together, “three - two - one!”
You and Alyssa begin the song together, she starts with a steady beat on the bass drum that accompanies your guitar, you strum a strong, quick and melodious chord pattern that you repeat twice, all while banging your head and stomping your boots down onto the platform in time with Alyssa’s beat, before Elektra and Cherie join you and Alyssa’s playing.
“Take me, I’m alive - never was a girl with a wicked mind - but everything looks better when the sun goes down-,” you continue nodding your head in time to Alyssa’s beat while you sing with your eyes shut, “I had everything - opportunities for eternity - and I could belong to niiiiight!” You end the line with a gradual pitch change in your voice that sounds as smooth as velvet. “Then your eyes, your eyes-,” you sing alone during the bridge of the song, grasping the strings of your Pink Special tightly so they don’t make any sound. Your eyes open and you flutter your eyelashes, swiftly accustoming to the dim spotlight facing the stage, “I can see in your eyes, your eyes,” you find yourself singing softly into the microphone while staring into the pair of brown doe eyes that inspired this song, “everything in your eyes, your eyes-.” Eddie’s lips tug upward now while he looks at you like you’re some kind of angel, it causes a cheeky smile to appear on your lips during the pause between your lines because he was looking at you the same exact way when he first saw you on this stage, “You make me wanna die,” the words come out of you dramatically as you continue to cheekily smile at Eddie, who looks completely gobsmacked now.
Now he knows how I felt when he sang about how much he fuckin’ hated me… and called me a bitch.
“I’ll never be good enough - you make me wanna die - and everything you love will burn up in the light - and every time I look inside your eyes-,” you sing as you throw yourself around with your guitar, swinging your head uncontrollably before freezing in front of the microphone with your hair all over your face and noticing Eddie and Gareth jumping wildly and bobbing their heads to your music, “you make me wanna die!”
You go back to stomping your feet, strumming quick chords on your Pink Special while Alyssa goes back to just using the bass drum to create the same steady beat and melody you played for the intro.
You stare intensely at Eddie which immediately grabs his attention as if you’ve put him in a trance-like state, he stops dancing with Gareth and turns his entire body to face you again, “Taste me, drink my soul-,” Eddie’s mouth parts at your words, making you giggle a little while you sing them, “Show me all the things that I shouldn’t know - when there’s a blue moon on the riiiiise!”
You spin yourself around with your guitar in hand before repeating the bridge of your new song and going into the chorus again, just focusing on the singing and screaming coming from in front of you… you’re sure that no other song of yours has gotten this much of a reaction from the crowd - it almost feels like your second big break, the first being getting your first gig at the Hideout.
After that it’s time for your final guitar solo tonight, which you completely make up as you go along by just closing your eyes, feeling the heat of the room and the vibrations of all the instruments playing behind you… the pitched blackness of closing your eyes allows you to completely concentrate on the music, it’s almost as if it’s only you and your Pink Special in the room. Your nimble fingers slide up and down the neck of your guitar with ease and without you having to even peek an eye open at what you’re doing before ending the solo by shrieking out a high note and using the whammy bar to bend the sound, letting it fade with a light vibration that tingles up your hands and arms.
You can’t feel a thing in your body apart from the tingling sensation from your guitar after that… maybe it’s the weed, the beer, or the metal solo that just flew out of me… your hair is wet and sticking to your forehead and you start to feel dizzy from the fire that is burning your insides. You lazily try to shake your head out of this sudden wooziness, which is spreading to each of your limbs, making your sweat fly off of you…
I’ve gotta get through this - just nine more lines - I can do it!
“I - would die for you, my love - my love,” you sing in a slurred way because even your mouth is exhausted. Your voice that is usually strong, but angelic and smooth, is now weak, “I would - lie for you, my love - my - my-,” you blink profusely, suddenly unable to get your words out that you so desperately wanted to say because your heart is pounding and your brain is fuzzy.
All you can remember in that moment is your song coming to a messy stop.
Alyssa, Cherie and Elektra stop playing their instruments and all that can be heard are gasps and static coming from the amps at the back of the stage.
Then Rodrick, he’s suddenly at the side of the stage pulling out each of your bandmate’s instrument cables from their amps… then lastly he pulls your Pink Special’s cable out of your amp while shouting out for everyone to hear, “Stake For My Valentine are disqualified!”
Your face turns from shock, to horror, then to fury at Rodrick, “I’m - gonna fuck-ing get you - asshole!” You stammer weakly before using the last of your energy to stride towards him, ready to punch his lights out, but on your way you trip over the loose cable that’s still connected to your guitar. It all happens so quickly and you’re completely blind with rage that you don’t notice the dark wire as your right foot catches it, making you stumble forward and hit your knee against the corner of one of the amps by the stairs.
Rodrick, whose eyes are wide from the sight before him, still has that evil glint in them that makes you want to hit him even more.
Though your knee is starting to bleed, the pain hasn’t quite made itself known yet… you’re so numb and tired in your body that you can’t even feel it. However, you can feel yourself falling towards Rodrick after ricocheting off of the amps, and your first thought is of your guitar, so you grasp onto it as tightly as you can, hoping that Rodrick would save you, or at least cushion the fall… but he doesn’t, he moves out of the way.
You fall on your own, determined to keep a tight grasp on your beloved Pink Special while you dart past the steps and collide with the wooden floor below. You can hear muffled calls of your name, footsteps running around you. You can’t bring yourself to move from being so tired and every bone in your body is aching from being so active on stage.
“Vamp?!” You hear Eddie’s voice, which sounds like a plea as he kneels beside you and grasps onto your shoulders, he shakes them frantically but very quickly realises that it’s not helping you in the slightest.
He leans further down, placing the side of his face against the floor so that he’s face to face with you. Your eyelids are fluttering and you can just about see him, but even your vision is blurred and your eyes are fatigued so he looks like a wobbly blob with curly brown hair at the moment.
You feel Eddie’s rough fingertips touch your cheekbone and temple, soothingly rubbing your skin, but he pauses his movements when Rodrick speaks, “She’s cool, man - just give her a minute.”
You hear Eddie mumble angrily under his breath before he straightens his back and turns his upper half in the direction of Rodrick, “Does she look like she’s cool to you?!” He shrieks sarcastically.
Rodrick shrugs, awkwardly scratching the top of his head, “I dunno - but I’m not havin’ her in my bed, it’s reserved for - Maisy here,” he admits while gesturing towards his fuck-buddy for the night.
“It’s Daisy!” The girl sassily corrects him, crossing her arms before muttering ‘fuck this’ under her breath and leaving the circle of your friends, fans and Rodrick around you.
“Looks like she just cancelled her reservation for tonight,” Elektra jokingly states, though there is an undertone of hate in her voice.
“Stillllll, it’s a no,” Rodrick responds with a pop of his lips.
“Well she can’t just stay here on the floor all night, Rodrick!” Cherie, who is sat on the floor behind you, shouts worriedly up at Rodrick.
Rodrick shrugs, “I don’t have the time for this, my dad is back in the mornin’ for the gig tomorrow and everything has gotta be in order so I’ve gotta tidy shit up… just - get ‘er outta here,” he speaks like you laying on the floor after everything he’d done to you is not his problem, before turning away from you and proceeding to casually clear some glasses that had been left on the bar.
Despite how exhausted you are, you can just about see all the glares that Rodrick is being given by everyone around you… it is silent, nobody knows how to respond to his cruelty and lack of care towards you.
Eddie’s fingertips feel even hotter against your face from the anger and frustration that is radiating off of him. Your eyes flicker up at his larger frame that’s towering over you comfortingly, but no matter how comforted you are by his touch, or how tired you are, a tear falls from your eye and touches Eddie’s thumb on your cheekbone, which he immediately notices and unclenches his other hand that is balled into a fist and ready to punch Rodrick in the face. His facial features go from being hard with anger at the way that Rodrick had just spoken about you, to going soft at the sight of you so exhausted and hurt below him.
“E-ddie - I - I wanna go - home - please,” you manage to mumble before your glossy eyes slowly close and everything goes quiet, sending you into a deep sleep while you’re in the exact same position that you fell, on top of your Pink Special in the middle of the Hideout.
“As you wish, sweetheart.”
⎈ 🎸 ⎈
The sound of an engine soothes you in your sleep, along with the small bumps that are being driven over that rock you gently… that is until there’s a sudden bump that causes your upper half jolt forward slightly before falling back against the car seat.
“Shit,” you hear Eddie mumble under his breath.
You start to stir in your sleep and your eyelids slowly flutter open.
Your head is bowed down to your left, facing the driver’s seat, where Eddie is sat. He looks extremely concentrated, like he is trying desperately not to wake you by doing something stupid like driving too recklessly… which is entirely not in his nature because it is famously known around the town that he is a dangerous driver and has been issued with many warnings by Hawkins Police since he first got his licence.
The windows had been rolled open to let as much air in as possible, which has calmed your temperature down by a lot and is blowing your now dry hair away from your face. You slowly bring your hand up to your forehead, rubbing it while you watch Eddie drive.
He notices your movement and looks away from a familiar dark lane he’s driving down to get a small glimpse of you, “You had me - us worried y’know?”
You blink your eyes open wider, though they’re still half-closed, “Where - are we going?” You ask in a strained voice, furrowing your brows.
“‘M taking you home,” he answers, looking back at the road, “You fell off the stage, y’remember that right?”
Realisation spreads across your features as you recall your gig, playing your song for Eddie, Rodrick disqualifying Stake For My Valentine, falling off of the stage and asking Eddie to take you home. “Yeah - yeah, I remember,” you sigh, looking directly ahead of you at the road, recognising shops like Family Video and the community pool that you live nearby. He turns his van to the left into the block that you live in, which causes you to look at him quizzically.
Eddie chuckles, knowing exactly what you’re thinking, “Alyssa told me where you live - don’t worry, I’ve not been stalking you or anything.”
You hum in response… that makes sense.
While Eddie drives somewhat carefully, you take the time to look at your surroundings. You notice empty bags pretzels on the floor, tapes scattered everywhere around the van and a picture stuck to the rear view mirror of a pretty woman with dark curly hair just like Eddie’s, she’s holding a little boy in her arms on her lap… it must be an old photo of him and his mom - cute.
Eddie hits another bump accidentally which makes your knee that hit the amp move slightly, nudging it against the van door and making you wince quietly… now I can feel it - the pain.
“Shit shit shit,” Eddie curses at himself, hitting the steering wheel before glancing at your fishnets which are now ripped at your knee, “Sorry about that.”
You let out a strained huffing noise before examining your knee and the dried blood surrounding the wound right in the middle of your kneecap. You lazily slide your hand down your thigh, unknowing of Eddie’s eyes following it’s every move, to the open gash you’d gained from your fall.
“Don’t touch it!” Eddie squawks suddenly, taking a hand off of the steering wheel and swatting your hand away.
“Jeez,” you giggle uneasily before leaning back into your seat and focusing on Eddie driving again, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you cared about me or somethin’,” you mumble softly, referring to his words from the other night with a small smug smile.
He looks at you knowingly as he brings his hand back to the steering wheel before shaking his head, exhaling and looking ahead of him, “I do actually - ‘s kinda annoying how much,” he mumbles under his breath.
“What did you say?” You ask, dumbfounded, because you were still slow and tired from the eventful night you’d had.
“Oh - nothin’,” he answers quickly, he takes another glance at your knee and gestures with his thumb over his seat to the back of his van, “I’ve got a first aid kit handy at the back we can use to clear your knee up when we get to your place so - just leave it alone for now, m’kay?”
You nod a little, “Okay,” you answer softly.
Watching Eddie drive, to your surprise, is so calming. You admire the way that his tongue is peeking past his lips in concentration, the way his hair blows in the wind and how he grips onto the steering wheel, his fingers overlapping his thumb because his hands are pretty big… they’d also look pretty nice wrapped around my ne- you notice him smiling at you finally answering him without you backchatting or making a sarcastic comment.
He senses your eyes on him, which makes his heart pound, so he takes a deep breath and is in the midst of turning his head to take another glance at the beautiful sight of you in his van again, causing you to quickly look away from him. Your sudden movement scares him and instinctively he looks back at the road, settling to just enjoying the feeling of you being beside him and maybe stealing a couple of glances at you as you continue to look around his van curiously.
He tries not to hyperventilate about the fact that you are beside him… in his van - alone. He’d not stopped thinking about you or your hands touching him since the moment you left him alone outside the Hideout… you’d been the one in his head, in his thoughts, in his dreams whenever he slept, ate, walked, worked - all the damn time. It was worse enough before he’d found out how it felt to kiss you, but now that he knew he was going crazy, so crazy that he found himself wrapping his hand around his cock every night to the thought of you… even thinking about what it would be like if you would just let him love you.
His thoughts are interrupted when he notices you turning your upper half to take a peek at the back of his van, which causes his eyes to widen, “Wait - wait, Vamp - I wouldn’t look back there if I were you-.”
You furrow your brows at him, looking at him being so incredibly suspicious right now, sweat is practically forming under his eyebrows, “Why not? You got a secret porn stash back there or somethin’?”
“No - j-just - don’t move your head too much, you’ll hurt it,” he stutters nervously.
“My head is already hurt,” you remind him with a hint of sass in your voice.
“Right,” Eddie sighs at himself before looking around the front of his van for anything to distract you with, “Oh - hey, I’ve got these cool stickers over here,” he points at his dashboard, where he’s messily stuck them by his radio, “The bat sticker is lucky,” he emphasises excitedly before his face falls when he notices you giving him a deadpan look. “Totally not interesting - uh - oh - what about some radio?”
“I’m looking, Eddie,” you state with a determined expression on your face.
Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down, coming to the realisation that you are not going to be distracted, “Okay, okay - just - don’t freak out.”
You smile at him, amused, as he focuses back on the road, staying awfully silent and keeping his mouth tightly shut… surely it can’t be that bad- you think as you turn your head, ignoring the pain that it causes you. Your eyes widen as you see it as clear as day, suddenly your knee and head is no longer the source of your hurt… it’s your Pink Special, placed gently on the navy backseat of Eddie’s van. It’s neck has been snapped away from it’s body and two of the strings are curled, no longer attached to their tuning pegs… your jaw falls open at the murder scene before you, “She’s- she’s-.”
“She’ll be fine,” Eddie interrupts you reassuringly, concern clear in his eyes - it’s such a genuine reaction that you believe that he understands your heartbreak for your guitar.
“Fine?” You retort, sarcasm oozing from your voice, “She’s been snapped in half!”
Eddie keeps his eyes on the road, turning right onto the road you live on which is just opposite of Lover’s Lake. “Yeah, you kinda - fell on her,” he informs you.
Your heart sinks, thinking about how you’d tried so hard to save her from the fall which makes tears start to well up in your eyes again, “Y-you mean - I - killed - her?” You tear your glassy eyes away from your guitar to look at Eddie…
How the hell is she gonna be fixed?
How the hell am I gonna play without her?
What the hell am I gonna do without her?
I can’t be a lead guitarist without a guitar.
Eddie gives you a reassuring smile, “Your Pink Special is gonna be rockin’ out with you again soon - trust me,” he tells you confidently, giving you eye contact that makes you want to take him for his word instantly.
You blink at him, your face blank with tears running down it and dropping onto your oversized t-shirt that’s now stained with your makeup mixed with your tear drops.
“You do trust me, right?” He asks, curiosity laced within his words.
You continue to blink at him as he drives around to your side of Lover’s Lake, near the woods. He doesn’t look at you so that he can concentrate on finding your home, and so that he can hide the disappointment in his face if you say no, “Yes - I think I do.”
After the shock of initially getting over the fact that you admitted that you do in fact trust him, a chuckle leaves his lips and he grins smugly at the road, “So close your eyes and trust me to get you home safe. Does that sounds good?”
Sounds perfect.
Without saying a word, you answer his question by shutting your eyes and relaxing into your seat by pressing your back right against it and nuzzling the side of your face against the fabric of the top of it.
After a few minutes pass, Eddie takes a sneaky glimpse of you, so relaxed that you’ve almost melted into the seat, a little smile spreads across his features, but he finds himself shaking his head, trying not to think about other circumstances where you could be sat beside him like this right now… like driving you home after a romantic diner and cinema date which would be topped off with a quickie at the back of his van… or taking you on a permanent roadtrip outta Hawkins and never looking back… just you, him and your guitars.
He takes a deep, sharp breath while forcing himself to drag his eyes away from you, which you can hear clearly - you steal a glimpse of him too with a timid smile on your lips before scrunching your eyes shut again.
“Home sweet home, sweetheart.”
That’s the second time he’s called me sweetheart… and I’ve not stopped him.
⇝ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐱
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𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑
𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 '𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒' 𝐨𝐫 '𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧' 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!
𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 👌👌
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caxde · 10 days
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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader
summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, your's an Eddie's relationship takes a new turn, while navigating life with her little girl (4.3k)
warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
a/n: the support has been insane, so enjoy part2 <3 part 1 part 3 (they can be read seperatly)
“Munson! There’s a girl here asking for you.” 
The raspy voice of his college snapped him back to reality. He had been working on the same bike for a while now, and had become unaware of everything else that was happening around him. 
But if there was a girl to see him, it could only be you, or maybe Robin. 
He really hoped it’d be you. 
Heads followed him as he crossed the dusty garage floor as he found his way to the opened mechanical door. Lucky for him, you were anxiously waiting there, your hands playing with the hem of your sweater. 
You had been lucky, if you actually think about it. You had left the café you started working at a few weeks ago, so you could go to the trailer park and get some sleep. This last weekend the logistic center that was 30 minutes away had called you, begging you to take the night shift since some of their employees were on vacation. You accepted, since they offered to pay you extra, and in cash. The downside was that the sleep you had lost didn’t seem to come back, and your car had been making a strange sound since then. 
Now your car refused to turn right, and if it did it took way too much strength. 
You avoided spending more than you had to, but it looked like it was finally time. Thank god Eddie works here, you kept thinking as you found your way to the mechanic. 
“Hi.” Your voice was lower, barely holding yourself together. 
“Hi princess.” He tried to cheer you up, a big smile on his face and his affectionate pet name he had only for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kept walking towards you, cutting the distance until you were a step away from each other. 
“I wish it was a surprise.” The way your eyebrow furrowed let him know that you were a bit too anxious, a bit too nervous with the situation. “I need your help.” You added as your palm covered your face for a moment, trying to wipe away the panic. 
“Whatever you need, princess.” And maybe it was his sweet tone, maybe it was the nickname or maybe it was the way his hand held your arm, in a supportive and soft way, that let you finally relax. 
You walked with him to your car, while you told him what was going on. He just nodded and let you talk, knowing that that was just what you needed. 
“It just sucks, I don’t know how I’m gonna get to work now.” You kept speaking as he popped the hood up of your car, and he kept looking at the engine, and everything that crept deep into it, what everything did you had no idea. Eddie was used to people talking while he worked, but oddly enough it made him feel more important, when you were the one doing it. 
“I could drive you.” He replays. His body stood up from being bent over. He was tying his hair up, and you had lost any and every train of thought you had. You had never seen someone look as pretty with a ponytail, even when they were covered in car grease. Black stains in contrast with his white muscle top, decoration his arms in places tattoos didn’t. “I don’t mind, as long as you’re okay with carpooling with Lua.” Eddie’s nervous smile came back, an upside down grin while his eyebrows raised, eyes locked with yours. 
“I’d love that.” 
-
Breakfast was Lua’s favourite. 
A piece of toast with some sweet jam, a cup of warm milk, and some cut up fruit. 
Eddie let her eat it wherever she felt like, time proved that was the better option. She usually preferred to eat it sitting down on the kitchen counter, while Eddie sat on the stools, eyes on the same level. He usually ate the rest of the fruit that he didn’t give to her, while he downed his black coffee. Though if he was honest, he had never cracked how to brew a good cup. 
Lua would babble whatever she had on her mind, she was chattier in the mornings, unlucky for her, Eddie was not a morning person, his energy drained from another poor night’s sleep. 
Everytime he thought about it, it made him laugh. Before her little girl came into his life, he’d sleep until way past noon, usually skipping school, having a cigarette and a coffee -if anything- for breakfast, without a job - a legal one- and with no real reason to do anything with his life. 
Maybe that’s why he cares so much about her, her little light, his reason to keep going, and be better. 
While he looked at her, the world seemed to quiet down for a moment, and everything was fine. 
Three knocks at the door, and he already knew you were on the other side of it. 
“Morning.” Amusement in his voice, in a hush tone. His dippels appeared, as his smile grew wider, they way your hair fell, in a tangled mess, being the reason for it. He was just happy to see you, though he wasn’t going to admit it. Not yet. 
“Hi.” Your voice came out raspy and hoarse. You hadn’t talked to anyone yet, and it made him chuckle even more. He moved his body out of the door frame, letting you plenty of room to walk through. “Coffee?” 
“Already done.” He muttered back, pointing with his head where the mug in his kitchen was. 
You felt your face relax as soon as you saw Lua enjoying her breakfast, quietly. Your eyes closed when your earnest smile came, once her voice rang with excitement as she said your name, as her hands moved through the air. 
“Hi dude!” You matched her energy, the momentary excitement winning the battle for your remaining energy. 
Lua gave you a high five, which you celebrated with a funny face that made her laugh. She offered you a piece of fruit that you accepted in a way too exaggerated manner, that only made her giggles multiply. Unbenoughts to you, Eddie was watching attentively. 
He was memorizing the way your hair fell on your back, and the way it swayed everytime you moved. The way you fitted in your dark washed jeans, the little red shirt from the café hugged your waist and he suddenly had the wish to place his hand there. He didn’t do it. 
Instead he handed you a mug with watered down coffee, that you accepted. He grinned at  the way your nose scrunched once you took the first sip of it. 
“Yeah, I’m not the best coffee maker.” He confessed while he suppressed a laugh. 
“Clearly.” You answered in a joking manner, it wasn’t bad, you just weren’t used to black strong coffee,  not the way he was. “I’m making you breakfast tomorrow.” 
You meant it. He knew, so he accepted with a nod and another smile. 
“Wayne’s sleeping, so we try to not wake him up. It’s difficult when little miss sunshine has all the energy in the world.” He explained while looking at Lua, her beaming smile and giggles made him light up, his thumb cleaning her cheek that had some purple jam on it. 
“There’s no one else in my trailer, she can be as chatty as she wants there.” Lua understood that, as soon as she realised what you were talking about she started to clap and cheer, a soft chuckle escaping from your lips. 
Eddie could hear that symphony for the rest of his days, he thought. 
-
It became a new way to start your days. 
You’d brew some coffee, and prepare an extra mug for Wayne, that Eddie left on the counter of his kitchen before you left for work. 
You’d actually cook, eating something in the early hours for once, a new habit you never had before. 
Lua always knocked on your door whenever they were ready, the little sound on your door followed by her sweet hi, as her arms swanged up in the air. She was becoming more and more comfortable with you, letting you hold her. She even gave you a thank you kiss on the cheek once. 
Today you had some pancake batter sizzling in the pan, orange juice for her, milky tea for you. 
“Dada?”
“Yes?” Eddie raised his eyebrow as he took his first sip, his voice softening at her.
“Music?” She answered with another question. 
“Ah, yes. The beautiful melody that connects us all together.” He babeled, in that voice he used when he was talking as what he was saying was written in an antique book. He tended to do it more when he knew you would smile. 
He took two cassettes out of his back pocket, letting her choose. He wished she’d actually choose the mix he finished last night, but as always, she picked the one that had a drawing she did as a cover. 
He nodded and walked to your radio. 
It hit him in that moment, just how tangled your lives were becoming. He knew where (almost) everything in your home was, and the same was starting to happen for you. He knew that you kept honey in a reused jar, because Mr.Felix gave you local honey from a friend in the first cupboard to the right. He knew you had extra plasters in the second drawer of your bathroom because you had a tendency to cut yourself when you used a knife when you had to chop something up. He knew that the drawings on your wall were painted by you, but that the one that hung over the orange lamp was gifted to you by a kid you took care of when you worked in a hotel two years ago. He also knew that you knew where Lua likes to put her toys away, under the table of his living room. You knew that the only way she had to eat vegetables was if they couldn’t be seen. You knew that Eddie liked to have it all under his ‘controled mess’ as you called it. 
In just a few weeks you had become such an important person that he was scared of you leaving. Which people had a tendency to do in his life. 
Now he couldn’t only care about his life, he had to care about Lua’s too, and he had been trying to talk to you about it. But everytime he summoned up the courage to do so, you’d look at him with your pretty doe eyes and everything he had wanted to say left, he could only focus on how pretty you always look. 
You focused on other things. Silly, non important things. 
Like how his tongue went over his upper lip every time he concentrated to fasten Lua’s seatbelt. Or how he played with his rings when he was deep in thought, whatever it was, his thumb played with the middle one, while his left hand focused on the one in his index finger. Or how when he had a clear idea, and had to start working on something, he’d tie his hair up in a lazy ponytail, his thick neck exposed. Or how he rotated his shoulders when he sat down on the driver's seat at the end of the day, half exhausted, half excited to go back to his home. 
You walked to the car shop at around eight, as you always did. Knowing that he’d already be waiting for you outside. Since Lua was back in the house, Wayne coming to pick her up as soon as he wakes up, he always enjoyed that small frame of time to actually smoke a cigarette, his little moment, all for himself. 
Before he met you, he’d spend this moment thinking about what he needed to do, what he needed to buy, or what Lua wanted for dinner. Now, the only thought was you. You and your sweet voice, you and your angelic laughter, you and your soft skin. You, everytime you called his name. 
“Hey princess.” His pet name had also become a familiar sensation. Your heart still races a bit when it hears it, nevertheless. 
“Hey moon.” Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the earnestness of your tone, or the new nickname, but he felt his heart jump around his chest, and his cheeks changing colour, a pretty pink flush taking over them. 
“Should we go?” He added, happiness crystal clear, not only by his higher tone, but by his overall demeanor. 
“Please. I’m so tired, I think I’ll go straight to bed.” You let out in a whisper, rubbing your face in an attempt to wake up, so you wouldn’t fall asleep on the drive back to the trailer park. 
“You should eat something first.” It was his way of showing you he cared, making sure you were taking care of yourself half as well as you took care of others. 
“I know, I just really hate cooking for myself. It's boring, and then you have to clean it, and do it all again…”
“You make breakfast for us everyday,” He pointed out, his eyebrow raised in synchrony with his pitch, as he opened the passenger door so you’d climb in. 
“Yeah, but that’s different. It’s mostly for you.” You stop as you wait for him to sit on the driver sit, taking the time to make sure your seat belt is fastened. Looking at the backseat, a new habit you had developed thanks to him and his baby. “I didn’t eat breakfast before you guys came.” You admit, and he knows you’re not lying. You never do when your eyes shine that bright. You also know he is a bit worried, a frown appearing on his forehead. “I’m okay, moon.” 
“Hey, it’s not fair that you use the nickname to your advantage.” He points out, his index finger raising to the air as he speaks, his car engine starting, heading home. 
“Sorry?” You jokingly ask. Knowing that everything’s fine by the way he laughs it off. 
“Then, we’ll come over and cook you dinner.” 
“Tonight?”
“If that’s okay.” His tone showed a bit of concern now. Maybe he was pushing it a bit too much. He was just excited to spend time with you, so he tried to grab every opportunity he had to do so. 
“Yeah, I just… My fridge’s a bit empty. We should stop by the shop.” You were embarrassed. 
It was stupid. Or at least it felt stupid. Being embarrassed about it. But the only actual thing you had been buying was dedicated to the breakfast you shared together, once you were home by yourself, you usually had a soup, frozen pizza or a simple grilled cheese sandwich. You really didn't care that much, you just ate if and when you were actually hungry.
And it wasn’t that often, if you were honest. 
Eddie knew. He had a tendency to be over observant, and he had noticed, but never dared to say anything. Life was complicated enough, and that was a mantra he stood by. So he took the chance, and planned to cook you the meal he was actually proud of. 
-
The Never Ending Story played in the background. 
A familiar scene in your trailer. 
Eddie’s cooking filled the air with a delicious smell, he was concentrated in it, wanting to impress you while he cooked his ramen noodles with seared shredded chicken. 
Meanwhile, you and Lua layed on the rug in your living room, the T.V on a low volume. She had found your nail polish, and cheerfully asked if she could paint your nails. 
“What colour do you want to paint them?” You had asked, the calmest your voice has ever been, the tiniest trace of exhaustion in it. 
“Blue!” She beamed as she held the bottle. 
“Okay, careful though.” You opened the bottle for her, and looked at her as she looked at the puzzle before her. “Do you want me to do the first one?” You asked, knowing that she needed some sort of guide. You realised, she had the same face of concentration as her father, tongue out covering her upper lip. 
She started painting, the smell of polish annoying her a bit, you encourage her. Telling her in a kind voice how good of a job she was doing, even if she was getting more colour on your skin than in your nail. She giggled as she covered her face in a shy manner, proud of the job she had finished. 
“They look beautiful, bug” Eddie’s voice came right between both of you. As he sat down between you, she held your hand so he could look at them closer. “You did this all by yourself?” Even if he didn’t look at you, and even if his eyes were looking at the proud look on his daughter's face, you could feel the electricity travel from your body to his. And the warmth his touch leaves on your soft skin. 
“Yeah.” She whispers in a shy, proud giggle, nodding along, waiting patiently for his compliments. 
“She didn’t help you?” He asked again, this time his eyes were on yours. It had changed, you noticed. His eyes weren’t shining with a second intention, or a jokey flare. They were full of something else, if you had to put a name on it -without having to say it out loud- you’d say it was adoration, though you weren’t sure. You were right regardless. 
“It was all her.” You tell him. He nods, catching himself falling deeper into the abyss. 
“Dinner’s ready” He ended up saying that. He thought that saying what he was really thinking would have been too weird. Tough if he really thought about it, telling you that you had never been more beautiful wasn’t a total lie, or that out of character for him. 
Lua sat on his lap, knowing that she would be fed, since she couldn’t be trusted with noodles. Not since she had used a fork to catapult them into the wall a few months back. She was smarter than Eddie realised, and he loved her more for it. 
Eddie waited silently for your reaction, and was pleased with himself when you whispered an amazed my god once you took your first bite. He took his chance to look at you while you were eating, distracted by the food. While you took your chance to look at him when he fed Lua. 
This was something you could also get used to, you find yourself thinking. 
Having company. Having them as company.
It was complicated, and you knew that. 
And it was even harder when he acted as nice as he was doing. Even if he had cooked, he was still offering to clean up. It was also harder seeing how Lua wanted you to hold her, exhaustion after a nice meal, she was sleepy and needed comfort. You looked at Eddie, a question written over your face is this okay? He gave you his usual grin, the upside down smile that showed his dimple of course it is.
You held her, close to your chest, her little arms hanged by your side, her head resting between your shoulder and your breast. You were softer than the strong arms she was used to, and your swaying was more delicate -probably because you were afraid to do something that might upset her- you hummed along the final song of the movie that was still playing, and as she felt deeper and deeper into dreaming, Eddie finished cleaning up. 
“Is she…?” 
“I think so.” Your voice was so quiet he could barely even understand you. 
The image of you, holding her with such care, with such softness, with that much love… It became an image he would end up thinking in a recurring manner. 
“We could set her down in my room.” You point at the closer door that he had never walked through. He nodded, trying to mask his boyish excitement. 
He half expected your room to be as colourfull as the rest of your house, but your walls were white, decorated with just a couple pictures of a city he couldn’t name on the wall, your white sheets that had witnessed your meeting on your bed. 
He walked over to you, a bit closer than he had to be to hold Lua, so he could put her down. Enjoying the way his skin graced yours. 
He sat down on your mattress, and laid Lua in the middle of it, resting in deep sleep. You followed closely. Your body hitting the usual comfort that your mattress always seemed to have. He waited a second. Another image he wanted to remember happening right in front of him, your body laying down on a bed next to her baby. In another life… Maybe it could have also been yours. 
He laid down carefully, and you saw as both of you were lost. Not really sure where to look, but dying to just look at each other's eyes. As these things go, you could only avoid each other for so long. 
So you ended up lost into his gaze just as much as he was lost in yours. 
It was a bit too much. 
“Moon…” You whispered, trying to not wake her up. 
“Yeah?” 
“Is this weird?” Even if you tried not to, your words still came out as worried as you were. 
“Is it weird that it isn’t?” He asked back, the sincerity in his voice made your body relax, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Maybe.” You admit, with a hopeful smile. You turned your focus on her for a moment. “She looks so peaceful.” 
“You should see her when she wakes up.” He adds with a smirk on his lips. His fingers pushing a hair out of her face. “She’s calmer when you’re around.” 
“We should be careful, then.” You were measuring your words now, not only speaking about her. He knew, so he just nodded. 
“You know…” He started speaking after a few minutes of comfortable silence, his body sinking deeper into the comfort of your bed, smelling your perfume in the pillows that hugged his head. “When I had her, it was only me and Wayne, her mother doesn’t want her in her life, and it was scary, and nauseating. I had no idea what I was doing.” His eyes flickered back to you. His shyness was gone, he was calmer with you near. You and the admiration in your eyes. “But I figured it out pretty quickly. She needed me just as much as I needed her. I had help, of course. But still, I wouldn’t change it for the world. She keeps me sane in a way… I know I’m a better person because of her. But I think I’m becoming an even greater person because of you, too.” 
You weren’t sure what you could say back. It was a warming feeling, having heard him say it, knowing that somehow you were in the same position as him. So you decided to be brave, to be honest for once. 
“I just worry Edds, that’s all.” You admit in a sincer whisper. He knows you’re not done talking, and he doesn’t rush you. He waits patiently, with an understanding nod and a smile on his face. “Meeting you, both of you, has been a blessing. Honestly. It’s been lonely, moving away, being here… And you guys have been so kind, and so welcoming… I really don’t wanna fuck it up.” 
“I know, princess.” 
“I just… I don’t know where’s the limit. I think… I think I kinnda like you, and if this complicates things I… I don’t know.” You were a bit embarrassed. having finally confessed what has been on your  mind for days. But seeing the beaming smile that escaped from Eddie’s lips was all the confirmation you needed. 
“I think I kinnda like you too. And I know it sucks. In another life, I would have asked you out, and we would have gone on dates, and we would spend days together but… All I can really think about, all I should think about…” He gestures to the little girl, sleeping soundly. “But we could still figure out a way…” 
“You think?” 
“Maybe.” He echoes your first maybe, the same tone, the same expression you had given him. “If you want to, we could try it out, go on a date, see if we…” 
“Work?”
“Yeah.” A lovesick grin was plastered in both of your faces. 
Hope could be felt in the room. Maybe it could work out, maybe you could have something, even if you weren’t sure what that was. Normally the uncertainty would make you nauseous, and anxious. Not this time, it actually made you excited, the promise of a something with them. With him. 
“You’d go out with me? An actual date?” He finally asks you. His soft spoken words can’t really hide the excitement that laid deep in his question. And you weren’t that good at lying, and he could read you like a book. 
“I’d love to, Moon.” It had been easier than you had anticipated. Complicated and easier seemed to go hand in hand when he came into the picture. “As soon as you fix my car.” You add in a joking tone, sticking your tongue out. 
“Oh, your car’s been done for a couple days.” He said in a sirius yet humorous tone, he covered his mouth with his index fingers as soon as a chuckle escaped your lips. 
“Asshole.” You whispered in disbelief. 
“I just liked having an excuse to hang out with you.”
Just like that, your heart was warmer once again. And soft giggles and conversation followed all the way through the night. 
Until the exhaustion caught up with you.
 You fell asleep right there. A picture that both of you wanted to remember, the little promise of something more. 
-
there might be a part 3 if you guys would like it ! xx
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference &lt;3
requests! are open
@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n
part 2 is up, thank for the support dudes <3
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bvtbxtch · 10 months
Text
Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 1: Prom Night)
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Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?
Chapter Summary: You have finally started to find your own groove after accepting that Eddie and Chrissy were an item, and ultimately more into each other than you. But why do you still feel such a strong connection to Eddie? Why are you secretly wishing for their downfall? Everything comes to a head during your final high school play and the prom where a new friend makes Eddie rethink everything.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N
Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.
Word Count: 9k (I got excited)
A/N: Holy hell! I never thought that this series would get so much love just from the prologue. I thought this was going to take me the next week or so to write, but I whipped this puppy out in 2 days. Thank you thank you thank you for all of the support. Again, your feedback, reblogs and replies are so appreciated!
Prologue
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
April 1986
Falling in love with Eddie Munson was easy. He made it so incredibly simple. The spring production rehearsals were in full swing and you got the lead role. It meant long hours in the theatre with your favorite metalhead, sharing snacks, laughing at inside jokes and telling deep dark secrets. You had started to spend equal amounts of time at the Hellfire table, making quick friends with Jeff and Gareth, you grew to love and protect the freshmen as your own as well. Even though you had no interest in playing DnD with them, Eddie always invited you to sit in on their campaigns. Chrissy and the other jocks started to distance themselves from you on the days you would decide to sit with them, but it started to bother you less as you made more meaningful connections with people who liked you for you. The last 5 months caught you off guard. Things seemed like they were normal, better than normal even; until you went home alone after school and remembered that Eddie had someone else keeping his bed warm. Chrissy was there. Your best friend stealing your other best friend away from you and nobody knew.
Things between you and Chrissy were tense only on one end. The blonde always greeted you in the hallway and passed you notes in class, blissfully unaware of the heartache her new romance had caused you. But when you were in a group, she seemed to unconsciously take value to others in the group. Eddie and Chrissy had started their relationship in private, and you were their sworn protector. Even when you didn’t necessarily want them, you got all the gory details of how Chrissy let Eddie feel her up for the first time, or how Eddie is a lot more well endowed than many had previously thought. It killed you on the inside, but throwing yourself into the spring show gave you a healthy distraction. Cheer kept you just close enough to Chrissy to keep up the feeling that things were not falling apart between the two of you, but you could focus on what you needed to do on the field. It felt good to put effort into new friends and reignite passions, even though the love the two of your best friends shared would always take up a small residence in the back of your mind. 
It was three weeks until prom. You were seriously considering not going, but you knew you would regret not going, so you decided that you would make an appearance, likely not a sober one, but you would show up. You waltzed past the posters in the cafeteria, and the ballot box being guarded by the student council, stationed around it like soldiers. You knew who would be winning each crown, there wasn’t even a point in voting for anyone else. You would be there to cheer Chrissy on for the third year in a row of winnings. Like clockwork, she would accept her crown, dance with whatever meathead got crowned king, and then help her fix her mascara that ran from her happy and “surprised” tears. You rolled your eyes thinking about it; but you were snapped out of your trance when you heard the blonde call your name. You reluctantly wave to her and the other ponytails looking expectantly at you and you start to cross the cafeteria. You are interrupted by a mop of light brown hair and a gleaming smile.
“Hey! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Gareth greets. You instantly relax as your new friend puts his arm over your shoulder and leads you to the Hellfire table. You look over Gareth’s shoulder to see the cheer table staring daggers at you. Chrissy looks disappointed, and the rest of the table looks mildly disgusted. Chrissy understood why you would hang out with the freaks but she still didn’t necessarily approve. Your image was important to her as you continued to be associated with her. You look at Chrissy apologetically, but happily turn and walk with Gareth. 
“It’s good to see you, Gareth” you smile up at him. 
“How are rehearsals going? You getting excited for the big show?” He remembered, and he seemed genuinely interested. 
“Yeah I guess so! I’m sort of ready for it to be over so we can push through exams and get out of here.”
You slide out your usual chair at the hellfire table, across from Gareth and beside Eddie at the head of the table. 
“I thought you were eating with Chrissy today?” Eddie questions. 
“Good to see you too, Ed…” you mumble. 
“No, it’s just… I wanted you to see if anyone had asked her to prom yet” Eddie leaned over and whispered to you. 
Gareth rolled his eyes. Eddie had recently let him in on his secret relationship with Chrissy, since he was missing or late to more and more hellfire meetings and had been mentally absent during their band practices. He needed someone else within the group to be able to cover for him when you couldn’t, and Eddie trusted Gareth with his life.
“Why the hell wouldn’t she be going with you?” you snorted. You knew that Eddie and Chrissy weren’t necessarily public, but you would never think that she would brush him off like that. 
“I don’t know… because I’m well… me” Eddie looked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and he instantly turned red. Your skin burned when you touched him. It felt like it had been so long since you had any physical contact which made you feel empty. Eddie was always one to give you a hug, or hold your hand or pick you up and carry you down to the theatre when you were running late. He was a tactile person and it took you until now to realize how much you really missed the way things were.
“Eddie Munson you listen to me, anyone would be lucky to go to prom with you” You turned pink as you reassured him. Gareth noticed and tried to hide his smirk underneath his hands. You kicked him under the table. You wish you were the lucky person that he would take, but you know that he would soon rather die than be seen with anyone else but Chrissy.
“ I don’t know” Eddie questions as he shyly pulls his hand away from yours. Both of you felt cold after the loss of contact. “I just really like her and I really want her to be with me, you know, not in secret… sometimes I think she’s ashamed of me.”
“Well, that’s her problem then, isn’t it?” Gareth snaps. He was so tired of watching Eddie stomp all over your heart when he knew that Chrissy was going to do the same to him eventually.
Both yours and Eddie's heads snapped to look at him. He was never one to question anything from Eddie, but he looked bothered. He stood up and left the table without a word. 
“What’s up with him?” You chide. Eddie shrugs and picks at his pretzels. 
“Hey, I was wondering if you could give Chrissy a note for me? I think I’m gonna ask her to go to prom with me today.”
“Ed, shouldn’t you just go up and talk to her? She’s your girlfriend for fucks sake.” You were getting sick of being put in the middle. Neither of them understood how much their romance crushed you. 
“Whatever, I thought you would wanna help me, seeing as you’re my best friend and all, but I’ll just humiliate myself then”. He shoved his chair backwards and with a huff, he stormed out of the cafeteria. Eddie was always one for theatrics. Usually it was entertaining, but this felt more like a toddler’s temper tantrum. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off as he left.
Eddie’s departure caught the eye of Chrissy. She looked at you quizzically and you gestured for her to follow him and rolled your eyes. She discreetly got up and trotted out the exit Eddie had just used. The back exit opened up to the field outside. You could see Eddie’s figure heading out to the bleachers - the place where you often went to to get out of O'Donnell's class, or smoke after a particularly stressful rehearsal. But it wasn’t sacred to you two anymore. It was their spot now. You could see Chrissy’s figure following behind him. You took the rest of Eddie’s pretzels and ate them with a huff.
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The final night of the play was here. Your last hurrah as the lead and the last show you may ever be a part of. Hawkins for sure does not have a thriving theatre community, so who knows what other opportunities you might have. You didn’t want this to be the last time though, it made your heart hurt and you wished this night would never end.  You had spent your time before curtain warming up with Eddie. He could tell you were nervous. 
“Sweetheart, I am telling you, you have nothing - and I mean nothing to worry about. You have been crushing this whole show run. All you have to do is go on stage and do your thing! And if anything bad happens, I tell the booth to blackout and I cut your mic!” he giggles. You didn’t find it as funny. You paced back and forth across the small stage, arms shaking and your breath hitching. None of your friends had been there to see your performance yet. You weren’t expecting many people, at least Chrissy, but she hadn’t said a word about your show or if she was coming. You pacing was driving Eddie wild. He hated seeing you so bothered.
“Y/N just relax” Eddie grabbed you by your shoulders and your whole body went stiff. Your breath caught in your chest and your heart sank to the floor. You could feel his breath on your face; you hadn’t been this close in a long time. Without being able to help yourself, your eyes flicker from his to his lips. All you would have to do is lean up and your mouth could be on his. His gaze lowered to your lips as well. You wanted to give in so badly, you wanted to kiss him, to feel like his again - but you couldn’t do that to your friend. You broke his contact and took a step back. Eddie cleared his throat and looked at you expectantly. 
“Did Chris say when she was coming to the show?” You ask, clearing your throat in an attempt to clear the thick, tense air. Eddie’s gaze went from soft and longing to hardened. Eddie looked to the floor and shifted his weight. 
“I-uh I don’t know… I haven’t talked to her in the past couple of days.” Your eyes doubled in size.
“What do you mean? What happened that day after lunch?” 
“I don’t want to talk about it” Eddie turned to stalk back behind the wings of the stage. You pulled his arm back and turned him towards you.
“Eddie, please. What happened?”
“She said she didn’t want to go to prom with me, okay? Are you happy now? Is that what you fucking wanted to hear?” His voice boomed through your skull. His eyes were glassed over, dangerously close to spilling tears, like yours have already started to do. He had never talked to you like that.
“Wha-what do you mean?”
“Oh don’t be so naive. You’re fucking happy that Chrissy doesn’t want to be seen with me. This is what you wanted the whole time, right?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you whisper to him, tears free flowing. “Why the fuck are you coming at me now when you just wanted to kiss me? I know you felt that too and you can’t deny that to me” You yell at him with a shove. You were shaking. You wanted to pour your heart out to him now, tell him how angry you were and admit that maybe you were happy that things weren’t picture perfect for them. But it wasn’t worth it now. 
“You know what, Eddie? You both deserve each other. Have a great show” you turn away from him, panting. You felt like you were going to fall to the ground because your legs felt like jello. Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders. You both looked into each other's eyes, glassy with emotion. For the first time in what seems like forever, you could not tell what Eddie was thinking. His eyes clouded with conflict, with anger, but with something else you couldn’t quite decipher. His lips quivered and his cheeks were flushed. 
You felt like your head was going to explode. What was going on? You felt like all of your weight, your body and soul were all dependent on Eddie holding you up. In one swift movement he pulled you in and his lips were on yours. Your whole body tensed, your eyes remained on his face. It was so wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But as much as your mind was screaming at you, his lips felt perfect on yours, like they were made to be there. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you might crumble into tiny pieces. But this is not how it was supposed to be.
You pull away and look at him. His eyes were beautiful. The glow of his chocolate irises were back. He looked at you like you were his world, but he looked guilty. 
You slapped him across the cheek. You turned around and you paced back to the dressing room, leaving Eddie there with a burning cheek and a hole in his own heart. He walked backstage.
“Fuck!” He yelled and punched the cinderblock wall, making his knuckles bleed. He trudged back up to the booth to prepare for the show, the feel of your lips on his lingered on his  like a tattoo.
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You took your final bows with heavy applause. Your heart felt warm and finally you felt like things were falling into place for you. The stage is where you belonged and where you felt the most like yourself. You had almost forgotten that you were standing in the very spot where Eddie Munson kissed you for the first time three hours prior. He shouldn’t have done that. You shook the memory out of your head. He didn’t matter right now, this was your time. You gestured up to the booth for their applause and there your gaze met Eddie’s. He was beaming, both dimples showing from the sides of his cheeks. For a moment, you saw your proud best friend. You saw the boy you made friends with in seventh grade art class and you saw the boy that came and knocked on your door to see if you wanted to go to the arcade with him. You beamed back at him, in hopes that he felt those same feelings as well. You eyes cast down to the audience and you searched for the other face you were so wishing to see. Chrissy was nowhere to be found. Instead, you saw another mop of shorter dusty brown curls and four other hellfire shirts to accompany him. Gareth whooped when you took your final bow. Your heart soared. You finally found your moment. 
The Hellfire club waited for you in the hallway outside of the auditorium. Jeff and Gareth each wielding bouquets of flowers to give you. The freshmen were buzzing about the performance. You ran to them and embraced them in a big group hug. You thought your face was going to break from how wide you were smiling. 
“Holy crap, Y/N! You were amazing!” Mike gushed.
“That actually made me regret not going to more plays here” Gareth laughed and handed you the bouquet in his hands.
“Thanks guys. I am so happy you’re here” You were so relieved to be telling the truth from the bottom of your heart. It seemed like forever since you could be totally honest with yourself.
“Dude, we wouldn’t have missed it” Jeff offered his bouquet to him and you gave both older boys kisses on the cheek. 
“Did I ever tell you guys that you’re the best?” You exclaimed, while you brought them in for another group hug. 
“I’m just gonna run and grab my things from the dressing room and then we should go grab something to eat! I am starved!” You turned and trotted towards the stage door. 
“Hey, Y/N wait!” Gareth ran up to your side
“What’s up?” Gareth shifted his weight and looked to the floor. 
“I want you to know that we - I think you’re great.”
“Thanks, Gareth” you wrapped your hand around his wrist and gave it a squeeze.
“You deserve better than you’re getting, sweetheart.” Your smile faltered.
“What do you-”
“You know what I mean, Y/N…” Gareth implored. You nod. 
“I know that I am not your first choice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to prom together? I promise I am not in like love with you or anything, and I want to go with you as a friend, but I don’t want to see you go alone, or worse go with friends you don’t like or don’t show up at all because I think you could win pro-” You cut Gareth off by giving him a tight hug and when you pull away you give him a kiss to his cheek. Your eyes wet with gratitude.
“Gareth, I would love to go to prom with you” Gareth lets a long breath out and laughs.
“Okay, great. That’s really great… cool” You squeezed his shoulder and turned towards the door again.
“I’m gonna go grab my stuff and then we can talk more about plans over some food” You offered. 
“Okay cool! Awesome! And Y/N? We’re all really proud of you. You shone out there.”
Gareth retreats back to the group to wait for you. Eddie had now joined the group, his face looked hardened. Why did you just give Gareth a kiss on the cheek? He knew, like him, that you were a tactile person. You showed your appreciation in physical ways, but he had never seen you be so close to Gareth. It bothered him more that it should. “What was that about?” Eddie interrogated.
“Nothing man, I was just congratulating her.”
“Did she say anything about me?” Eddie pressed.
“...No? Why would she?” The rest of the group snickered at Gareth’s remarks. Eddie turned away. Not only was his mind racing, desperate to talk to you, but now he was embarrassed in front of his own group of friends. He couldn’t take being in the same room with you right now. He needed time to think.
“Alright, I’m going then.” Eddie stalked off to the double doors.
“Wait! You aren’t going to come out to celebratory dinner with us?” Dustin whined. 
“Not this time. I got shit to take care of” Eddie retorted. 
“Probably another hot secret date” Jeff poked at Gareth and they both laughed. 
Eddie grumbled as he turned and opened the door to the parking lot, a cigarette already out of his pocket and in his mouth. He needed to find Chrissy.
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It was 11:36pm. Chrissy had gotten home just an hour ago from an outing with Tiffany and Sarah. Her stomach was in knots, she was afraid her reputation was slipping. They had both made a comment about you sitting with the Hellfire club recently and she instantly went into defensive mode. She couldn’t handle them talking shit about you, her best friend and her boyfriend. The girls grilled Chrissy about why she had been being so nice towards the Hellfire seniors and started to put two and two together.
“Oh my god, did that Freak Munson put a spell on you or something when you went for that deal?” Sarah sneered.
“Holy shit! That would make sense as to why Y/N is spending so much time with him too. I heard she sucked his soul out of his-”
“Okay enough!” Chrissy boomed. She could feel her chest caving in. She hated hearing people talk about you that way, but she hated the idea of you and Eddie being together even more.
“He was really sweet and friendly to me when I went over to his trailer. He seems like a really nice guy. And Y/N is one of us, she wouldn’t do that with him.” Tiffany and Sarah sat with their mouths ajar, unwilling to believe that Chrissy would ever talk back to them like that. 
“Oookay, Chris. Didn’t know you were like, in love with him” Tiffany teased. 
“Ugh, as if. Let’s just drop it…” Chrissy mumbled.
She couldn’t sacrifice her already jeopardized reputation by being seen in the auditorium, where both you and Eddie would be. She wouldn’t be able to help herself around him. Her feelings towards the metalhead, although still conflicted, were growing stronger. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out in keeping this a secret if she was going to actively be seen in public with him. 
She had plopped onto her perfectly made bed with a new Danielle Steele novel when she heard a knock at her window. She looked up and her face contorted into the most beautiful look of surprise to see her favorite curly haired metalhead at the window. He looked like he lost his lucky DnD dice. She opened the window quickly and stood out of the way to let him stumble into her room.
“Eddie? What’s wrong, darling?”
“Are your parents home?” he grabbed her waist and began to back her into her wall.
“Ummm no, they’re out” Chrissy breathed. Eddie pressed his lips to her neck, moved his right hand up her torso as his left hand flicked the lock on her door.
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You had tried to call Chrissy a few times after you had returned from the diner with the hellfire club. You were hurt and wanted to know where she had been. But most importantly, you wanted to tell her what happened between you and Eddie. Although you also felt your friendship slipping, this was something you couldn’t keep from her. You had showered your show hair and makeup off and had gotten yourself into comfortable pjs. The flowers the boys had got you sat neatly in a vase on your nightstand; they made you smile every time you looked at them. You had just closed your eyes and surrendered to sleep when your phone rang. You answered and you heard the cheery voice that you had been waiting for.
“Hey babe! How was the show?” So she did remember, but just decided not to show up.
“It was great Chris, but it would have been a lot better if you were actually there.” You tried not to sound angry, because in the long run, you really wanted her there. She hurt you more than made you mad. 
“Yeah, I’m really sorry, I had this thing that I couldn’t get out of with Tiffany and Sarah. I’m sorry, you know I’ll be at the next one” She offered.
“What if that was the last one, Chris? You know what, I would rather not do this over the phone… Can I come over?”
“Oh.” Her voice dropped. “Yeah, Okay.”
“I’ll be there in 10.”
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You knock on Chrissy’s door. Unlike her previous visitor, you knew you were always welcome at her house. She was quick to open the door. She looked perplexed, worried even. It wasn’t often that you saw her being anything but her shiny happy self. You knew something was very wrong. She knew too.
“Hi.” You offer
“Hi… come in” she opens the door wider to let you into her foyer. She holds her cardigan tight to her chest. You follow her up her stairs and into her bedroom. It felt so familiar but there was a tension that made this feel foreign. You sat yourself on the end of her bed while she perched herself on her vanity stool. Even though you were facing each other, you found it hard to make eye contact with each other.
“I need to tell you someth-”
“I feel like we need to-”
You both started talking at the same time and with an awkward chuckle, you stopped talking so she could speak.
“Eddie came over after the play” Chrissy whispered. You clenched your jaw. 
“Oh, I couldn’t tell from the numerous hickies on your neck, Chris.” you poked. She wrapped her cardigan around her small frame tighter and kept her stoic expression. 
“Eddie told me that you kissed him at the theatre” she said, her tone hard. You shook your head in disbelief.
“Is that what he really told you?” You pressed. She nodded her head, not being able to make eye contact with you. 
“Huh. So what if I told you that he kissed me? That we had a fight over the fact that you won’t be seen in public with him? That he accused me of being happy that my two best friends in the whole fucking world were destroying each other, all while they pretend that I don��t exist anymore and just keep shitting on each others’ feelings, leaving me in the middle of this whole mess?” you started to raise your voice. You couldn’t believe that Eddie would ever lie about what happened, and you really couldn’t believe that Chrissy would believe him. 
“That sounds like a real easy way to shift the blame, Y/N. You kissed my boyfriend” Chrissy snaps, tears threatening to spill.
“Bullshit, Chrissy! He kissed me! And I still don’t fucking know why! He kissed me, I pulled away, I slapped him in his stupid fucking face and I left.” You screamed. Your tears flowing freely. This had been the single most confusing night of your life. You thought that the two people you loved the most couldn’t betray you more than they already had.
“Well, that’s not the story that Eddie told me” She whispered.
“Yeah… it seems like Eddie told you that story all over your body, Chrissy” she gasped and lunged for her bedroom door. Your face twisted in disgust. He used you because he was mad at Chrissy, and the he used her to lessen the blow.
“Get out.” She sobbed. 
“You tell me to leave right now, you are telling me that you believe Eddie’s word over mine - fuck, not even Eddie’s, a stupid fucking boy over my word. Me. Your best friend. The one who has been there for you since forever.” The air was thick. Both of your eyes were red and chests heaving. 
“I do. I believe him.” Chrissy gasped.
You cackled as you stood up. You huffed out of her room and bound down her stairs. You opened and slammed her front door shut and climbed into your car. You sped out of her driveway and rounded the corner. When you got out of eyeshot from her house, you turned off your car, slammed your hands on your steering wheel and screamed at the top of your lungs. 
You wanted to go see Eddie. You wanted him to tell you that it would all be okay. You wanted him to wipe your tears away and you wanted him to hold you with the same passion he did at the theatre. You wanted him to kiss you and tell you that you were right and she was wrong; but you also knew that she would be calling him right now and she would be getting the comfort you so desperately needed. You turned your ignition and started back to your house. 
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The next weeks of school seemed to bleed together. You felt numb. You had no play, no Chrissy and no Eddie. Every other day, Gareth would meet you in the library to eat lunch with you. You were so thankful for his friendship. You didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened with Eddie and Chrissy; knowing that it would cause yet another rift within their tight group. He also thought that it was best to keep the fact that the two of you were going to prom together between the two of you to prevent the same thing; But, he knew that Chrissy had pushed you to the side. You had secretly thought that she was waiting for a reason to ditch you as a friend, seeing as you weren’t what Chrissy envisioned as a perfect person to put on her social resume. You knew that the cheer girls were starting to treat her differently because you were friends and you didn’t subscribe to the jock way of life. Gareth was there to listen through it all, and although your heart was broken, it was comforting to know that you still had a friend that was willing to help you put the pieces back together. You were grateful that one of the biggest nights of the year was going to be spent with him. 
May 1986 
Your preparations had begun as prom week came. You took Gareth shopping for a new shirt and tie.
“Are you sure I don’t need like, a tux or something?” he questioned.
“Do either of us look like we are fancy or rich enough to be tux people?” you joked.
“Fair enough.”
“You are going to look awesome in whatever we find!” you praised. Gareth beamed back at you.
You walked through starcourt mall arm in arm. The sting from the past couple of weeks had become a dull ache and you started to appreciate the little things again. You had been bold enough to take your seat at the hellfire table last Friday and although Eddie looked at you quizzically, he didn’t say anything. It seemed like there was a silent agreement between the two of you, that you were both going to put what happened at the show behind you. As much as you both wanted to though, neither of you could forget. You both remembered each time you looked into each other’s eyes. Your conversations had begun to pick up again, they were surface level and short, but you were happy for the small sense of normalcy. You wondered if Chrissy did tell Eddie about the conversation the two of you had. But in your growth you decided that you didn’t need to know that, and worrying over it was just going to cause you more stress than it was worth. 
As you and Gareth passed through the food court, a pair of chocolatey brown eyes fixed on your figure. Eddie had posted up at the mall with Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High and adult friend to many of the Hellfire freshmen. 
“Dude, you gotta relax.” Steve warned. Eddie’s jaw had instantly tightened and his body had stiffened when he had seen you and Gareth walking through the mall. Why the hell were you out with him?
“Why is she here with him? Why is she holding him like that?” Eddie sneered.
“Is… Is Eddie Munson Jealous? I thought you were boning the hottest girl in school?” 
“Yeah boning. But we’re also dating and she doesn’t want anyone to know that”
“Shit, dude” Steve gulped.
“Yeah… Shit.” Eddie wished he had natural charm like Steve. Maybe it would make it easier for Chrissy to like him. He hated that he was questioning his whole person because of a stupid girl. But he really thought that he liked her. But how could she like him if she didn’t even want to be seen in public with him. Eddie ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated, overwhelmed and wanting to burn starcourt mall down if it meant that you wouldn’t be here with Gareth anymore.
You found Gareth a satin button up shirt and he stole a lavender bowtie that matched the color of your dress. You were finally laughing and joking faintly like you used to. It made Gareth’s heart soar. He cared greatly for you, but knew that your heart belonged to Eddie. It never stopped belonging to him, even if you told him repeatedly that you didn’t have feelings for the Hellfire leader. Even though he was hoping you weren’t going home with him on prom night, Gareth was more than happy to be taking you.
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Tonight was the night. Eddie was sure that everyone in his graduating class was stirring with anticipation and excitement for what was going to be the best night of their lives. Eddie wasn’t as optimistic. He had put on his best black jeans (the ones with no holes in them) and was sitting on his bed, lazily strumming his guitar with a lit joint hanging out of his mouth while he waited for his wet curls to come to life. He didn’t want to go anymore. Chrissy had ensured the fact that she was going with Jason Carver meant nothing but keeping up appearances and that she would save a dance with him once she was crowned prom queen. Eddie felt like a charity case and had been feeling so increasingly often lately, Chrissy only daring to talk to him through notes left in his locker, or going to their hiding spot during their class breaks. Eddie was sure that he wanted to be in love with her. But when he kissed Chrissy, it didn’t feel like it did when he kissed you. He was so confused. Your relationship was finally amicable again, and he had the girl that he had been chasing after for years. But he was scared to see you tonight because he was worried he was going to mess everything up. He could be in love with Chrissy, but it seemed like Chrissy might not love him back. But maybe you did. Eddie let out a loud groan and flopped back onto his bed. He finished his joint and put on his burgundy dress shirt and put his arms through his vest. He put on his freshly polished rings and toed on his reeboks. He reluctantly started his van and began his drive to Hawkins High.
Gareth picked you up at 7 o’clock sharp. You answered the door with a bright smile and his face lit up the dusk behind him.
“Wow, girl. You look amazing!” Gareth looked you up and down. Your lavender sleeves landed just off of your shoulders, highlighting the pearls that rested on your collar bone. Your tiered skirt flowed and shimmered beautifully with the light.
“Says you! I told you you didn’t need to get a tux!” you slap him on the shoulder. To your surprise Gareth had showed up in a full tuxedo, sporting the shirt and tie the two of you had picked out.
“Yeah I know but my mom was so excited that I was going that she went out and bought me one anyway” You both laughed as you turned to take your polaroid camera off of the entryway table. 
“Let's take a picture to commemorate the occasion” you tease. The two of you place your cheeks together and smile for the camera. The light flashes and you both giggle. You were so excited to be spending an evening with your friend. 
“Jeff gonna meet us there?”
“One step ahead of you!” You heard from Gareth’s truck. Jeff stuck his head out of the back and gave you a huge smile and a wave. You laughed as you closed the door behind the two of you. Tonight was going to be a good night.
Chrissy had stationed herself at Tiffany’s directly after school to prepare for what was going to be the best night of her life. Sarah had snuck a bottle of champagne from her mother’s wine cellar and by 6pm, Chrissy could feel her own pulse in her head. She felt beautiful, she looked beautiful, but even her baby pink slip dress could not hide the insecurity on her face. The stakes were high and all she wanted was everything to go the way she wanted. Her glossed lips sank another flute of champagne while they waited for Jason and his posse to show up in the limo.
When you arrived, the Hawkins gym was decorated with tinsel and adorned with snack and drink tables on the opposite side of the stage. Your stomach fluttered at the excitement of being at your senior prom with some of the people you loved the most. You grab some punch and you Gareth and Jeff sit. Your head was on a swivel looking for a beautiful blonde, or a mop of brown curls, but to no avail. You took a big sigh and shook out your hands. Tonight was going to be a good night, you repeated to yourself. No one was going to ruin this for you. 
“Wanna dance?” Gareth held his hand out to you. You gladly grabbed it and let him sweep you out to the dancefloor. He spun you and you laughed. Any thoughts of anyone else dissipated as you laughed and danced with your best friend.
Chrissy entered the gym in awe, teetering on her pumps, and brain fuzzy from the champagne. It was her night for a win and she knew that. She walked arm in arm with Jason, a smile plastered wide and eyes full of expectation. Her eyes faltered when she saw you smiling and laughing with your date, she didn’t remember his name. She longed to give you a hug and apologize. She wanted to dance and laugh with you, but she knew that now wasn’t the time. She needed to focus. Tonight was her night. 
Eddie trudged into the gym, head already aching from the synth pop being played out of the large speakers. He grabbed a small flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. He sauntered over to the punch bowl and grabbed a cup, eyes scanning for two women. He found neither. Who he did find was his hellfire clubmates sitting at a table on the outskirts of the gym. Eddie tramps to them.
“Who let the freshmen in here?”
“Your guess is as good as mine” Jeff offers as he shakes Eddie’s hand “Looking good Ed. I didn’t know you even knew what a dress shirt was”
“Ha ha… I feel like shit. How long do we have to be here for?” Eddie whines
“Dude no one is making you stay! So have some fun with your friends would you?” Dustin scolds. Eddie scowls as he sinks into a chair at the round table. He immediately senses your absence. He looks around inquisitively.
“Where’s Y/N?” He asks. Jeff nods towards you on the dancefloor and Eddie’s heart stops. You looked absolutely radiant. He felt his hands get clammy and his chest got tight. You looked so happy and carefree. He missed seeing you like this, his girl the way he remembers you the best. He smiles to himself when he hears you laugh.
“Gareth, stop spinning me, I'm gonna throw up!” 
His smile faded. Gareth? You were here with Gareth? He saw the mop head holding your hands and laughing with you. Suddenly, Eddie felt sick to his stomach. He could feel his pulse in his ears and he saw red. Jeff saw Eddie’s gaze harden.
“Eddie, don’t.” Jeff warns. “She’s having a really good time.”
Eddie didn’t respond. He took the flask out of his pocket and took a long swig. As he put it away, he stood up, vision locked on your dancing figures. Jeff sighed and put his head in his hands. Dustin and Mike looked at him confused. Jeff shook his head at them, implying that they didn’t want to know.
Eddie sauntered up to Gareth and grabbed his shoulder. Your smile faded as Gareth turned around to face Eddie.
“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie seethed through gritted teeth. Gareth looked at you apologetically.
“I’ll be right back okay?” He squeezed your hand and let Eddie guide him out of the gym. You were left in the middle of the dancefloor, too stunned to move or say anything. Dustin came to your side and asked if you wanted to sit back down with the club. You nodded, dazed, but followed after the two boys into the hallway instead.
Eddie pushed Gareth into the hallway and grabbed onto his lapels. You ducked around the corner so you were within earshot and close enough to help Gareth if he needed it.
“What the fuck are you doing Gareth?”
“What are you talking about, Munson?” Gareth pushed Eddie off and he began to smooth out his jacket.
“Why are you here with her?”
“What, like you were going to ask her to go with you?” Gareth challenged. Eddie looked at him dumbfounded. “Look, Eddie. If you really cared about her, you would let her have a good time tonight. You’re too busy with Chrissy lately anyway so I don’t know why this is suddenly such a big deal…”
Eddie clenched his fists and stalked towards Gareth. You covered your mouth to prevent the two from hearing your gasp.
“That’s my girl… you’re here with my-”
“Oh shut the hell up, Munson! She’s not your girl! Your girl is here with Jason fucking Carver. The guy that has been tormenting us for fucking years! Get your head out of your ass and stop playing with Y/N. She isn’t yours.” Gareth yelled. Eddie wracked out a sob and turned away from his friend. Gareth’s stomach sank and he watched his friend unravel in the hallway.
“I didn’t ask her here romantically, Eddie.” Gareth offered. “I care about her a lot, but I know that she doesn’t like me. I know exactly who she wants to be here with.” Gareth bores into Eddie, only hoping that their conversation will knock some sense into him. You slip back into the gym and sit with the hellfire club, mind racing thinking about what you just heard.
“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to continue to keep having fun with my friend.” Gareth stepped closer to Eddie and clapped him on the shoulder. “Get your shit together, Munson, and then try and enjoy yourself for once.” With that, Eddie was left alone in the hallway. He pulled at the roots of his hair, and let a string of profanities leave his mouth. It was better than punching a wall like last time.
Gareth returned to the gym and sat next to you with a smile, reassuring you everything was fine. Gareth whispered in your ear, telling you he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin this night for you or him and that it was time to have fun and forget about everything happening outside of this night. You couldn’t agree more. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a thankful hug. He laughed as the two of you positioned yourselves towards the stage as the principal announced the prom king and queen would be crowned shortly.
Eddie slithered back into the gym, his arms crossed and a grimace glued on his face. He saw Chrissy and although his heart should have skipped a beat, it did nothing. She looked beautiful, gorgeous even. But she wasn’t you. But you made it clear, and Gareth made it clear. You weren’t his and you didn’t owe him anything. You deserved to have a good night and as much as he wanted to take you away and drive off with you, he knew that couldn’t happen. So he would settle for his dance in secret, and the potential for some action after Chrissy got her ten minutes of fame. 
As the microphone squealed and the gym quieted, Chrissy shifted in her chair restlessly. Her dress felt too tight, and Jason felt too close. She wanted the boy that made her feel the prettiest. She wanted the boy who would do anything for her to be beside her. She wanted to dance with the boy who told her that he adored her. Her eyes scanned around the gym and she saw him lingering against the back wall. She sent him a wave as she smiled brightly. He waved back but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. She thought she knew why he was so upset. He hated seeing her with Jason. She was starting to hate being here with Jason too. When Jason was called for prom King, he patted Chrissy on the thigh, gave her a kiss on the forehead and sauntered up to the stage to receive his crown. Chrissy felt like she was going to be sick. This was the single most important moment to her. Principal Higgins held a white envelope in his hands.
“And this year’s prom queen is…” He fumbled with the envelope.
You were rooting for Chrissy. You knew that you didn’t need to be, but there was part of you that was longing for your old friend back. Maybe her winning prom queen would bring her back from her orbit. 
“Chrissy Cunningham”
Chrissy opened her perfectly glossed lips into a gasp. She stood timidly and strutted to the stage to accept her crown and flowers. She flashed a beauty pageant smile and wave and sobbed a thank you to the gym. You could tell that she was definitely not sober. You worried for her, but this was also your night. She was Jason’s problem, not yours. It gave you a small bit of relief to see Eddie was not in a matching baby pink getup to the blonde’s. They didn’t come here together. You knew you shouldn’t be holding out hope, but the scene he caused on the dancefloor and now this, you couldn’t help but be a bit hopeful.
Once Chrissy and Jason took a bow as king and queen, the DJ had spun a slow song. Gareth offered you his hand again and you happily accepted it. Dancing with Gareth had been the most fun you have had in a while. You both went to the dancefloor and dramatically rocked each other back and forth. 
Chrissy left the stage and as Jason went to grab her to dance with her, she tossed her flowers to him and trudged across the gym in Eddie’s direction. Jason looked back to his posse confused, he followed Chrissy’s bouncy curls to the opposite end of the gym.
Eddie nursed his flask as dancers started to repopulate the space. He saw you get up with Gareth. He scoffed and took another swig of his flask. When his eyes returned to the mass of students, he saw a pair of bright blue eyes bounding towards him. He stood in shock, not knowing what Chrissy was doing. When she reached the wall he was leaning against, she stuck out a perfectly manicured hand to him, her face set with determination. She led him to the middle of the dance floor. 
“Chris, wh-what are you doing?” Eddie breathed
“Shut up, Munson. W-we are gonna d-dance:” she slurred. 
“We don’t have to-” She stopped him in the middle of the gym and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could see Jason fuming behind her and he smirked down at her. 
“You’re ready to stir the pot aren’t you, doll?” Eddie chuckled. 
“Yeah, I’m r-r-ready to start some, some shit b-because I-I love you, E-Eddie Munson.” Her blue eyes bore into him. Did he really just hear her properly? He felt like there was only one right thing to say.
“I, I love you too, Chrissy,” Eddie hesitated. Before he could wrap his head around what had happened, Chrissy pulled his head down to hers and planted a searing kiss on him. He quickly returned her offer and swiped his tongue over her lips. She deepened the kiss. Eddie felt like he was floating, but it didn’t feel like it was a good feeling. Chrissy tasted sour like wine and Eddie’s head pounded. But feeling this was better than feeling nothing. It was better than the emptiness he felt when he saw you being held by someone else. He kissed Chrissy like no one was watching, while in reality all of the gym had directed their gaze to the world's oddest couple they could imagine.
You swayed Gareth back and forth, laughing so hard your stomach hurt and your face felt like the smile was never going to leave. Once your laughs subsided, you pulled Gareth in closely and rested your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and hummed in content. 
“Thank you, Gareth. This has been such a great night”
“You’re welcome, Y/N. I am having so much fun with you” Gareth rubbed small circles into your waist as you turned slowly. You opened your eyes and you instantly stood up, your body tensing under Gareth’s touch.
“Hey, what’s wr-” Gareth turned to look behind him and saw the picture perfect way to ruin your night. Gareth stiffened and grabbed your hand. You didn’t want to look but you couldn’t avert your gaze. You felt like you were going to be sick. Gareth grabbed your hand and whispered in your ear.
“Let’s go get some fresh air, okay?” You nodded your head and let him lead you out of the gym.
As Eddie broke his kiss, the first thing he saw was you taking in their display. Then he saw you turn and leave the gym with Gareth’s hand in yours. Eddie grabbed Chrissy’s hand and kissed it and ran out of the gym after you. 
You refused to let the tears fall. You didn’t want to ruin your night with Gareth and you didn’t want to give Eddie and Chrissy the satisfaction. Why would he look at you the way he did, why would he say those things to Gareth? Why would he call you his girl? Gareth could tell you were trying to process, so he squeezed your hand to ground you and remind you he was here for you. 
“Y/N” you hear a familiar voice ring out. The voice you wanted to hear the most and the least. You turn to find Eddie standing in the middle of the empty hallway. Gareth gripped onto your hand tighter, a scowl setting on his face.
“What do you want, Eddie?” you manage to squeak out.
“I-I’m sorry” he huffed. “I’m so fucking sorry”
“For what, Eddie? For being defensive all night, telling Gareth that I’m your girl?” Gareth and Eddie both tensed. “For knowing that my heart fully belongs to you and you actively shitting on it? What is it?” You were angry. You deserved to be angry. This time, it was Eddie’s turn to cry. You walked towards him, cheeks growing hot. You came chest to chest with him when you heard the gym door fly open.
“E-Eddie, my love?” Chrissy giggled. She stopped when she saw the three of you in the hallway. “Oh no.” She murmured. 
“Chrissy, go back inside. I’ll be there in a minute.” Eddie ordered. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Tears are now dangerously close to ruining your makeup.
“Hmmmm, no. I think I wanna st-stay for this Teddy” she cooed. She stumbled towards him and threw her weight on him. 
“Yeah, Teddy. She might want to stay for this.” you sneer. You could feel your blood heating up, your hand tightening on Gareth’s.”Why did you kiss me in the theatre?” You take a step back as Eddie opens his mouth to speak and closes it again. “Tell me it wasn’t because you were in love with me and I’ll walk away right fucking now.” you sniffle.
“He didn’t love you, babe. He only kissed you b-back  b-because he f-f-felt bad for you. That’s what he told me” Chrissy hiccupped. Eddie looked at you, his eyes now freely flowing.
“Y/N… Please” Eddie begs. You laugh at him.
“Is that the truth Eddie? Is that how you really feel? Or is that what you told Chrissy to feel better about the fact that you kissed me, and you didn’t want to stop?” You spit.”Or was it what you told her to get in her pants without any punishment?”
“Please don’t do that” Eddie whispered. You start to back away with Gareth. Eddie tries to peel Chrissy’s arms off of his torso.
“I’m leaving right now Eddie and you have a choice to make. You can come with me and that will be enough of an explanation.” You stood strong and dropped your hand that was holding Gareth’s. He whispered your name softly. You turn to him and smile tightly to let him know that it was okay. You turn back to Eddie who stands still.
“Eddie, lets gooooo.” Chrissy whines.She began to pull his arm back towards the gym. His feet feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. He looks to you, completely heartbroken as your gaze hardens at the drunk prom queen hanging around his body. You chuckle as he lets Chrissy pull his body back towards the gym.
“Great. We’re done.”
You hear Eddie release a broken Sob as you grab Gareth’s hand and walk through the double doors.
Chrissy finally drags him back towards the bustling music and plastic tinsel of the gym. He felt like he could throw up. How could he just let you walk away?
Gareth opens his truck door open for you and helps you get seated in the passenger seat. He stands in between you and his truck door. He kissed your forehead and began to run his hand up and down your arm.
“Do you wanna go home, sweetheart?”
“You know what, a milkshake sounds really fucking great right now” you smile. Gareth laughs and you eventually join him.
“Milkshakes coming right up.”
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lonelysatellites · 6 months
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The Sweetness (10)
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Chapter 10 | Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
𑁍 The arrival of someone from reader’s past spells potential disaster for her relationship with Eddie 𑁍
Series warnings: 18+ minors dni, eventual smut, angst, mentions of injury, body image issues, physical and emotional abuse, drug and alcohol use
Chapter warnings: verbal and physical abuse against reader, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood mention, needle mention, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, vomit mention, gun mention, there is allusion to non-con (but I want to stress that nothing actually happens), death mention, angst, hurt and comfort. 9.3k
A/N: in this chapter we get the details of what brought reader to Hawkins. This chapter goes into much more detail than previous chapters about the abuse that reader has suffered, so please exercise caution when reading if these topics are triggering to you. I have tried to add warnings within the chapter either side of these sections (you’ll see ———— before and after to help you avoid them if necessary). As always my ask is open if you need to talk, much love xxx
Series Masterlist
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
April 1992
You wake with a high pitched ringing in your ears.
The kitchen tiles are cool beneath your cheek, the cold seeping into your body, breaking goosebumps out across your skin.
For a brief moment, you’re unsure how you ended up here, face to face with the dust bunnies living under the fridge.
It’s when you take a deep breath that you remember.
————
A sharp pain shoots through your chest, the air you'd sucked in immediately exhaled as a pained gasp. It hurts to breathe, every time your lungs expand that same sharpness twinges in your torso. You keep your breathing shallow as you sit up slowly.
The kitchen spins, cabinets dancing around you, a blurry carousel ride that you’re desperate to get off. You shuffle back until your spine is pressed to the stainless steel doors of the fridge. It steadies you a little, and you shut your eyes, waiting for the bright lights behind your closed lids to stop swirling before you dare open them again.
The vision in your left eye is a little blurry, the image before you distorted and hazy. Still, you can make out the mess in the kitchen. The smashed glass sprinkled across the marble worktops, the Blanton’s bourbon that dribbles down the cupboard doors, leaving an amber pool on the floor.
The sticky red smear on the tile that your face had been pressed against.
Hesitantly, you raise a trembling hand and brush your fingertips across your face, assessing the damage. The swelling is tender, making you hiss in pain, another jolt shooting through your ribs from the quick exhale. It’s worst around your eye, you can barely stand to touch your left cheekbone. You trail your fingers down, swiping through more crimson that’s poured from your nose, your lips wet with it. The taste of copper in your mouth makes you retch.
The apartment is eerily quiet.
No more shouting, no more crying, no more neighbours pounding furiously on the walls. You know you’re alone, can recall the sound of the front door slamming shut seconds before you passed out on the floor.
How long were you out?
How soon will he be back?
You know you have to act now. There’s no more time to sit and weep, feeling helpless and afraid.
This has to be the end.
You were lucky to wake up this time.
It takes every ounce of strength you have left to pull yourself to your feet. Your body screams in protest, every part of you aching and sore, your movements laboured and slow.
The room dances around you again when you stand. Clutching at the worktop to keep yourself upright, you barely register the tiny shards that nick at your palm.
On unsteady legs you stumble across to the phone. More blood smears across the plastic buttons as you punch in the numbers, fumbling the first time, dialling too many sevens with your shaking hands. On the second try you get it right, holding the receiver to your ear as it rings.
————
“Hello?”
Your mom’s voice is bright and cheerful. You hesitate.
It wasn’t too late to hang up. You could pretend this never happened, make excuses not to visit until your bruises had healed, protect her from the knowledge of what’s been done to you.
Of what you’ve allowed to be done.
“Hello?” She asks again.
“Mom.” You whisper. Your voice croaks. It hardly sounds like you at all.
“Honey? Is that you?”
“Y-yeah. It’s me.”
“What’s wrong?” She says. You can hear it in her voice, you know she’s frowning. A mothers intuition, she can sense your fear from miles away.
“I - I need you to come here.”
Your voice breaks, a harsh sob that echos in the quiet of the room. Your tears flow freely, you’re crying so hard you can barely hear your mom when she speaks.
“I’m coming. We’ll be there soon Honey.”
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
————
Three cracked ribs. A broken zygomatic bone. A laceration to the cheek requiring four stitches. Extensive brushing to the face, neck, and torso.
————
A stern faced officer scribbles the list of injuries in his notebook, as the doctor stood at the foot of your bed recites them.
“Wait - you said zag- zy-“
“Zygomatic.” The doctor repeats.
He taps his cheek, just below the temple.
“Ah. I got it.” The officer says with a nod.
The room falls quiet, the only sounds are the scratch of the officers pen across paper, and your mom’s quiet sobs. She hadn’t stopped crying from the moment she set foot in your apartment. Every now and then she’d manage to compose herself, but all it took was a quick glance at your swollen and bruised face for her to start again.
“And these injuries. You said they’re the result of a fall, is that correct?” The cop says, peering over the thin frames of his glasses at you.
“Yes sir.” You whisper.
Your dad says your name. Your real name, usually reserved for the times you were in serious trouble. When he wasn’t angry, but disappointed, which always stung more. You shrink back against the thin hospital pillows propped up behind you.
“It’s important that you tell the truth.” He says.
“I - I am.” You say quietly, not daring to meet his eyes.
“Can you tell me some more details about this fall?” The officer presses.
It’s clear from his tone he’s not buying your bullshit, and the expression on the doctor’s face would suggest he feels the same.
You feel small and stupid with them all looking at you. Like you’re five years old again, insisting to your parents that Barbie had been the one to cut your hair with craft scissors.
You stare at the thin blanket draped over your lap, picking at a loose thread.
“I tripped going up the stairs to my apartment. I was carrying groceries, so I couldn’t put my hands out to stop myself. I hit my face.” You say quietly.
Your dad sighs, and your mom cries harder. The officer stares at you for a moment, lips pressed into a tight thin line. Then he nods, snapping his notebook closed and tucking it into his pocket.
“Well if you remember anymore details about this fall that you think we should know about, give us a call.”
“Is that it?” Your dad snaps.
“Sir. I understand your frustration, really I do. But I can’t do anything more unless your daughter decides that she wants to tell me what happened.”
“I’ve told you! I’ve told you who did this to her! He can’t be allowed to get away with this.” Your dad shouts.
“I know. But I can’t do anything with that information because you weren’t there. I need to hear it from your daughter.”
The officer turns to you, his voice dropping to a softer register, like he’s coaxing a wild animal that’s been backed into a corner.
“I’ve given your father my direct line. If you change your mind, then just call. We can protect you. I want to help you.”
You shake your head, the man’s face blurring as tears pool in your eyes.
He sighs, and excuses himself. The doctor follows behind him, leaving you alone with your parents.
“Honey, please.” Your mom begs.
“Please just let us help you.”
“I j-just want this to be over. I don’t want to have to keep talking about it again and again. I don’t w-want to have to see him. To hear him deny it, and then get away with it - because you know he will. I just want to go home.” You cry.
“Oh, my darling girl.” Your dad says softly. He leans forward in his chair, taking your hand in his and squeezing tight.
“We’ll take you home. You never have to go back there. You never have to see him again, I promise.”
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
December 1992
It was too good to be true.
Of course it was. You should have known.
It wasn’t written in the stars for you to live happily, with the sweetest boy in the world by your side, existing in peace in this sleepy little town with people around you who cared for you. Your story was never meant to have a happy ending.
The second that you spot the familiar Camaro parked between the trailers, you know it’s all over. The silly little fantasy you’ve built up in your head of a life with Eddie will remain just that - a fantasy.
There’s nowhere left to run. Nowhere to hide.
The fear you feel now is different than before.
You’re no longer scared of what Richie might do to you, it’s taken just seconds for you to accept your fate. Now you’re scared for Eddie.
Kind, funny, sweet Eddie. The boy who deserves the world only to have it turn against him. You know how much he’s suffered, how many vigilantes have come knocking on his door, looking to deliver their own fucked up form of justice for a crime he never committed. And you know that as soon as Richie gets his hands on him, he’s a dead man walking.
You can’t let that happen. You won’t let it, you need to get Eddie out of this mess and fast.
So when your mouth wants to open and beg Eddie to drive you both far away from here as fast as he can, you bite down hard on your bottom lip and get out of the van.
When your legs turn to lead, resisting every step you take across the icy ground to the man waiting for you, you force them to keep going, facing the danger head on.
And when Richie’s hand grips the back of your neck possessively, and he crashes his lips against yours, you swallow the bile that rises in your throat and stand perfectly still.
“Long time no see babe.” Richie grins when he pulls away from you.
You nod, your throat too tight to make a sound.
“Where’ve you been?”
His eyes narrows as he takes in your outfit, one he would’ve never have approved of; the fabric too tight and the neckline too low.
“W-we went out to dinner with some friends. Eddie’s my neighbour. He was just giving me a lift home.” You lie.
“Mmm. Well isn’t that nice of him.” Richie mutters. His hand cups your face, in an act that could outwardly appear tender, but the hard press of his thumb against your cheekbone is a warning. He sees straight through you.
“Thanks for getting my girl home safe Eddie. I’ll take her from here.” Richie smirks.
Eddie remains silent.
You can’t look at him. You know if you do, you’ll break. Can so clearly picture the confusion and heartache that will be written clear as day on his face. You feel sick, knowing the pain that you’re causing him, but better a broken heart than broken bones you tell yourself.
Richie guides you up the steps to your front door, so confident and entitled, as though this were his home. With shaking hands, you finally manage to turn your key in the lock, and let him inside.
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
You don’t know what to do with yourself, stood trembling like a baby deer in your living room, watching the devil himself wander through your space. He takes in your humble home with a sneer on his lips, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I gotta say babe, I’m surprised you’d hide out here. You gave up our perfect apartment for a place like this?” Richie says.
You look around. For a moment, you see what he must see. Mismatched thrifted furniture cluttering up a tiny living room. Water marks staining the popcorn ceiling. Cracks in the kitchen tiles left behind by those who lived here before you.
But this run down little trailer is your home.
The hideous floral couch is where you laid with your head on Eddie’s chest, his hand stroking your arm as you both laughed at some stupid sitcom on the tiny TV. You danced with him on those cracked tiles, laughed when you’d make breakfast together and he’d crack an egg too hard, shell landing in the pan, hot oil singeing his fingers when he hurried to pick it out. He’d kissed you in every room; lips pressing below your ear while you brushed your teeth, caged you in against the washing machine while you shrieked in halfhearted protest, laundry basket falling from its place on your hip to spill out across the floor.
This place was yours, and Eddie’s.
And now the man you never wanted to set foot in here was picking it apart in disgust.
He moves through the living room. He didn’t bother to take off his shoes, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the carpet.
“Don’t you want to know how I found you?” He says. He glances over his shoulder at you, lips twisted in a sickening smirk. Relishing in watching you squirm.
Richie drops to the couch, sitting back and kicking his feet out to rest on the table. So calm and composed, while you tremble violently in terror.
“You got my Christmas gifts I assume?”
You nod.
“You’re not wearing the necklace I bought you.” He comments.
“I - I..”
“You still have it, right Honey?”
He’s testing you, and you know you’ll fail. If you lie he’ll demand to see it, and you know better than to let yourself get caught out in a lie when it comes to this man.
“I gave them to Abby and Anna.” You whisper.
“What was that?”
“I said I gave the gifts to my cousins.” You repeat a little louder. You cringe, waiting for his anger to make an appearance.
Instead he tuts.
“That’s not very nice is it babe?” He says, soft, like he’s scolding a toddler.
“I’m sorry.” You croak out.
Richie shrugs.
“Anyway, after Christmas I came back to your parents a few more times. Sat in my car waiting for you to come out. I was hoping you’d be reasonable and at least have a conversation with me. But then you did one better. I saw you packing your stuff into your dad’s car.”
You frown, confused as to how simply seeing you on your parents driveway allowed him to find you. You made one trip with your suitcase and loaded it into the trunk. The wind was bitterly cold, so when you went back in to retrieve the last of your stuff you put on…
Eddie’s sweater.
The one you’re pretty sure had once been Steve’s, the one you’d since claimed as your own. Oversized and well loved, so soft and still smelling of your boy. The one with Hawkins High embroidered across the chest.
Richie laughs as realisation dawns on your face.
“It didn’t take too long after that. I drove out here and started asking around town, and a little birdie told me about the pretty new elementary school receptionist, living in the trailer park and running around with the town freak.”
————
Richie catches you flinch at the last word, his wicked smile fading into a darker expression. He stands, and in a few short strides he’s got you backed against the wall. He tilts his head back, looking down the line of his nose at you as you struggle to meet his eyes.
“Did you let him touch you?” He asks quietly.
“No.” You whisper.
“No? You sure you didn’t fuck the freak?”
“I s-swear. I never.”
Richie hums, mulling it over. His head cocks, as one hand falls to rest on the top of the baseball bat you still keep next to your door. He traces his finger tips over the smooth wood of the handle.
“I’m not sure I believe you Honey. If I go pay Eddie a visit and ask him, d’you think he’ll tell me something different?”
Your blood turns to ice. You’re growing desperate, willing to say anything if it gets his mind off Eddie.
“I promise, I never touched him. I wouldn’t, he’s.. he’s nobody Richie, I swear it. He’s just my neighbour. I don’t even really like him that much, I hang out with his friends and sometimes he gives me a ride, that’s all.”
“Yeah? He’s a nobody?”
You nod so hard your head thumps against the plaster behind you.
“I don’t care about him. I don’t want him, I - I want you. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I left you, I don’t know what I was thinking. Please, please just take me home. I’ll go back to Chicago with you, I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Just - please!”
Through the tears that blur your vision, you can make out Richie’s smug smile. You sigh in relief when he releases the bat. He cups your face in his large palms, so gentle, like back in the early days when he still handled you delicately, like you were something precious and fragile.
“You’re mine.” He says firmly.
“I’m yours. All yours.” You reply, hating yourself as the words fall from your lips. But you didn’t know what else to do.
So you let him kiss you again. Let his tongue snake it’s way into your mouth, let his teeth nip cruelly at your lips, ignore the turning of your stomach when his breath huffs hot and heavy across your face, and his hands grip you harder.
“You can start making it up to me now.” He says darkly.
You offer no protest, wordlessly leading him to your bedroom. You feel like you’re not in your own body, floating above yourself, watching from the ceiling as you clamber onto the bedsheets, laying back with lifeless eyes.
A part of you thinks that you’ve gotten off lightly. No slaps or punches, no twisting of your limbs until they threaten to snap, no pulling of your hair so hard your neck feels like it could break.
You can do this. You can let him use you as he wants, let your mind take you to somewhere else until it’s over. You can cry once it’s done and he’s asleep.
Richie stands at the foot of your bed, smiling to himself, knowing that he’s won. The buckle of his belt clinks as he slides the leather through the loops, the rolling of his zipper echoing in the quiet.
You close your eyes, waiting for the mattress to dip when he climbs on. But it doesn’t come.
“You swear you never touched him?”
Looking up at him, you nod slowly.
“I swear.”
He bends down, reaching for something on the floor. When he rises to full height once again, he’s clutching a fist of dark fabric. A t-shirt and boxers that Eddie had left the night before.
“Then who the fuck do these belong to?”
Your brain is fuzzy, panic and fear overwhelming you, making coherent thought impossible.
You hesitate for a second too long. Whatever lie you could construct now would never be believed.
Richie sighs, shaking his head as he drops Eddie’s clothes to the floor. He finishes pulling his belt free from his pants. The smooth leather wraps around one fist, pulled taught by the other. Your heart feels like it stops.
“You know I hate it when you lie to me Honey.”
————
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
Eddie wakes with a pounding in his head. He can feel his heartbeat throbbing in his temple, a steady thud that threatens to crack his skull in two. He rolls over, bleary eyes opening and focusing slowly, taking in the empty space next to him.
His bed feels cold without you. The sheets seem to stretch on for miles, taunting him, reminding him just how alone he is.
He sits up, one hand gripping the headboard to steady himself as the room spins. His stomach churns. He lurches forward over the edge of his bed, grabbing the small trash can that sits by his desk just in time. A revolting mix of fast food and the half bottle of vodka he’d drank neat splashes against the bottom of the container, his eyes streaming tears as he empties the contents of his stomach.
When the last of his retching ceases, he drops the bin back to the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
He surveys the mess he’d made of his room. Paperbacks and notebooks in a crumpled heap on the floor from where he’d swept his arm across the desk in fury. Vanilla tea lights that never had the chance to burn hurled against the wall, their sweet scent still wafting his way and making his stomach turn over again. In his drunken rage he’d had the clarity to at least leave his sweetheart alone, the guitar still hanging untouched on the wall opposite his bed.
The Polaroid of you he’d pinned beside it smiles down at him. His other sweetheart.
Except you were never really his.
Your smile seems to mock him now. Eddie snatches the image from the wall. He wants to crumple it in his fists, tear it to shreds and throw it away, like you did with him. But he can’t bring himself to do it. He strokes his fingertips over your face, the crinkles by your eyes defined when he’d caught you mid belly laugh. He remembers how he’d kissed you after the photo was taken, smooching your cheeks, pecking the tip of your nose, stealing your breath away when his lips finally met yours.
Were you kissing him now? Were you laughing like this, the two of you sharing some sick joke at Eddie’s expense. The thought sends a stabbing pain through Eddie’s chest that makes it hard to breathe.
Eddie moves silently down the hallway, a spectre floating through the trailer. The hands on the clock in the kitchen tell him it’s gone two in the afternoon. He’d managed to sleep most of the day away.
He hasn’t eaten since last night, but he has no desire for food, his tongue still stinging from stomach acid. He falls to the couch, body heavy with exhaustion, despite his long stretch of unconsciousness.
The silence in his home seems to beg to be filled. It’s not been this quiet in so long, the air hasn’t felt this heavy and tense since you came into Eddie’s life. Out of habit he clicks a button on the remote, the small TV opposite him lighting up. He doesn’t even register what show is playing.
He grabs a packet of cigarettes from the coffee table, breaking the rule he’d set for himself months ago of not smoking in the house.
The cherry glows hot in front of his face, dark swirls of grey exhaled through his nose. In anxious moments, the burn in the back of his throat and the rush of nicotine in his veins provided a grounding relief, but Eddie’s not anxious now. He feels numb, hollow, no sensation strong enough to reach him. He thinks that he could probably push the searing end of his cigarette into his pale skin and still feel nothing.
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
Outside, the sun makes her way across the sky, dipping low to kiss the horizon by the late afternoon. When the evening brings darkness, it seeps into the trailer.
The only light comes from the television, pale blue casting shadows across the room and over Eddie’s face.
He hasn’t moved for hours. Mouth ash dry from dehydration and chain smoking, lead limbs moulded into the couch. The phone had rung periodically, the sound not enough to shake him from his haze.
A fist knocks on the front door. Eddie feels none of his usual fear at an unexpected visitor, and none of the joy that it might be you waiting on his doorstep. He takes another deep drag from the last cigarette in the pack. The smoke pirouettes in the air when he exhales.
Whoever it is knocks again, harder this time, growing impatient. Eddie scowls, biting the cotton filter between his teeth. He rises from the couch, joints clicking and protesting the sudden movement after hours of stillness.
He shuffles to the door, clicking the lock and swinging it open.
“About time man! It’s freezing out here!” Steve exclaims, barrelling past Eddie into the trailer, flakes of snow that had collected on his shoulders falling to the carpet.
“Yeah let us in, we want to hear all about last night!” Robin grins, pulling Nancy by the hand behind her.
Eddie remains silent, closing the door. His friends smiles fade quickly, replaced by concern as they glance around the trailer, shrouded in darkness and filled with smoke.
“Is everything okay Ed? Where’s Honey?” Steve says.
The mention of your name sends a sharp pain through Eddie’s body. The cigarette in his mouth shakes as his bottom lip wobbles.
“What are you guys doing here?” He croaks, voice hoarse with the first words he’s spoken all day.
“Movie night, remember? You’re hosting?” Robin says.
“Eddie.” Nancy says softly. Her tiny hand comes to rest on his forearm, dainty fingers squeezing gently.
“What’s wrong?”
All it takes is those two words to have the floodgates bursting open. The cigarette falls from Eddie’s lips, singeing a dark mark in the carpet as he chokes on a sob.
Eddie tells them everything. His head rests on Nancy’s lap, her fingers combing through the knots in his curls as he speaks. A chill breeze breaks his skin out in goosebumps. Robin had opened the windows in spite of the cold, letting the fresh air replace the hazy thickness in the trailer.
He has nothing left to say now, and no tears left to cry, eyes sore and burning.
“I can’t believe it.” Steve mutters, breaking the silence.
“Me neither. She always seemed so.. sweet.” Robin says.
“Ed, I don’t wanna - fuck, look just don’t bite my head off. But I have to ask, are you sure you didn’t misread the situation?” Steve asks.
Eddie’s body tenses.
“She fucking kissed him Steve! Right in front of me! How is there any other way to read that?” He barks.
Steve cringes, raising his hands in defence.
“Okay okay. Sorry. I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around this.”
“It does seem weird. That’s not the Honey we know.” Nancy says.
“Well, maybe we didn’t know her as well as we thought. Seems to me she’s not as nice and innocent as she likes to make out.” Robin snarls.
Her words sting in Eddie’s chest, even though a part of him agrees with her. Robin was loyal to a fault, fiercely defensive of her friends, and even if less an hour ago that list of friends included you she’d known Eddie for far longer. She’d been through so much with him. It was clear that she was taking his side in all of this.
“I just think I’d like to talk to her about this. Find out what’s really going on.” Nancy mumbles.
“What could she possibly say Nance? She’s been fucking cheating on Eddie!” Robin says, voice growing louder, her cheeks reddening.
“I know Robin! Don’t snap at me!”
Eddie sighs, sitting up as the two girls bicker. He knows that Nancy’s always got his back, but she likes to see the best in people, and she also can’t stand not understanding something. If your behaviour made no sense, then it was in her nature to want to push for an explanation.
From his seat across the room Steve gives Eddie a sympathetic smile.
“You’re gonna be okay. We got you.” He mouths.
The girl’s argument is cut short by the shrill ringing of the telephone. Eddie ignores it, picking at a loose thread on the waistband of his sweatpants.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Nancy asks.
Eddie shrugs.
Sighing, she pushes up from the couch, the block heels of her boots clacking on the floor in the kitchen.
“Munson residence.” She says, the receiver pressed to her ear.
There’s a beat of silence as Nancy listens to whoever is calling.
“Um, she’s not here.” She says quietly.
Eddie looks up, a lump catching in his throat.
Nancy twirls the phone cord around her thin fingers, her brows pinching in a frown.
“Okay. I - I don’t think he’s heard from her. No, well I - hang on a sec.”
Nancy covers the bottom half of the phone with her hand.
“Ed, it’s Honey’s sister.”
He makes no effort to move.
“Can you please come and speak to her? I don’t know what to say.” Nancy pleads.
Truth be told, Eddie doesn’t know what to say either. He knows that your kid sister idolises you, and he doesn’t want to have to be the one who shakes you from the pedestal she’s put you on. Still, it’s not fair of him to expect Nancy to handle this for him. So he stands and takes the phone from her.
“Hello?”
“Hey Eddie! Your friend said you haven’t heard from Honey?” Baby says.
“No, that’s right. I haven’t.”
“Oh. It’s just, I’ve called her house a few times and she hasn’t answered. I called you a few times earlier and you didn’t pick up either, I just assumed you’d gone out somewhere together.”
Eddie sighs, squeezing the phone tight in his shaking hands.
“I haven’t seen her since last night. If she’s not answering you I assume it’s because she’s busy with her boyfriend.” He sneers the final word like it’s something venomous, leaving a sour taste on his tongue.
“Her what? You’re her boyfriend.”
“Yeah well, I thought that too, but I guess we were both wrong.” Eddie deadpans.
“I don’t understand.”
“Some guy turned up here last night and she went home with him. I haven’t spoken to her since.”
“What? Some guy? Who was it?” Baby whispers, an edge of panic in her voice.
Eddie pinches his furrowed brow, patience wearing thin.
“Christ I don’t know! Some fancy looking prick in a flashy car.” He snaps.
“Oh god.”
Through the phone Eddie can hear a scrambling, followed by the distant sound of Baby shrieking for your parents.
“What’s going on?” Nancy murmurs.
“I don’t know.” Eddie whispers back.
“Eddie?”
The gruff voice of your dad coming through the phone pulls Eddie’s attention back in.
“Yeah?”
“Baby just told me that you said someone turned up at Honey’s place last night. A man?”
“Yeah. He was waiting outside her trailer when we got home.”
“Shit. Okay, I -“
John’s voice is disrupted by faint sobbing in the background.
“Baby, stop crying, it’s gonna be okay. Treasure - Theresa! God dammit listen to me. Go start the car!”
An uneasy feeling swirls in the pit of Eddie’s stomach, the hairs on the back of his neck raising.
“Eddie. Are you still there?” Your dad asks.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Good. Now I need you to tell me exactly what happened last night.”
“Th-there’s not much to say. We drove home, and there was a Camaro parked outside her place. The guy got out, he.. he kissed her, and then they went inside.”
Eddie can hear John’s breathing pick up, panicked pants coming down the phone.
“Are they still there now?”
“I don’t know.” Eddie says for the third time.
“I haven’t spoken to her all day.”
“Okay. Okay, Eddie, listen to me. We’re on our way, we’re leaving the second I hang up the phone. But it’s gonna take us at least three hours to get there, probably longer with all this damn snow. Look, I hate to ask this of you kid, I know you’re probably mad at her and confused about all of this. But I need you to go over there and get her out of that trailer. Just get my daughter away from that man, do you understand me?”
“I - I guess. But -“.
“Eddie, please. The last time he got his hands on Honey he put her in the hospital. I don’t know what he’ll do to her now he’s found her again.”
Baby wails harder in the background of the call. It’s like the Upside Down reopens beneath Eddie’s feet; his stomach drops and his legs feel unsteady. That man had hurt you. He’d hurt you, and Eddie had let you walk off with him, left you alone with him all night and all day. If his stomach had anything left in it he’s sure he’d throw up again.
Eddie’s eyes float to the ceiling.
On the really bad days, he can still see her. Chrissy pinned to the cracked plaster by some invisible force, her bones snapping and twisting with sickening crunches, jaw hanging open in a silent scream. He’d been powerless to do anything to stop it, and so he ran.
He won’t make the same mistake this time.
“I don’t know what you’ll be walking into Eddie.” John admits quietly.
“It’s okay. I-I’ve got it. I’ll protect her.”
Eddie says the words with determination, in spite of how his voice shakes.
“Thank you Eddie. Honestly - I can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s okay. I’m going right now.”
“I’ll be there soon.” John promises.
The line goes dead.
“Eddie, what is going on?” Nancy asks fearfully.
Ignoring her, Eddie slams down the phone and turns to Steve.
“Do you still have that bat in your car?”
“Yeah, it’s in the trunk. Why?”
“Honey’s in trouble.”
“What do you mean?” Robin asks.
“I mean I got it wrong. I got it all wrong. He’s going to hurt her, if - if he hasn’t already.” Eddie says quietly.
Steve jumps up from the couch. His shoulders click as he rolls them back, chest puffed out and jaw clenched tight.
“Let’s go.”
“I’m calling Hopper.” Nancy says, her hands shaking as she punches in the number.
“Come on!” Robin orders, already swinging the front door open with a bang.
“You’re staying here.” Steve says as he storms past her.
“Absolutely fucking not!” She shouts, stamping down the porch steps behind him.
Adrenaline and fear courses through Eddie’s veins, his hands trembling as he tries to tug his Reeboks onto his feet.
He’s faced down creatures from another dimension, had his skin ripped to shreds by rows of razor sharp teeth, been beaten and abused by people who viewed him as nothing more than a disease on this town that needed to be wiped out. But he’s never been as scared as he is now.
In spite of his fear, Eddie rushes out of his house, down to where Steve is popping the trunk of his car, lifting out the baseball bat decorated with twisted, rusted nails.
Nancy appears at Eddie’s side, her breath fogging in front of her face.
“Hopper’s on his way.” She says.
“You kids alright?”
They all turn to the source of the voice. Kevin leans against the railing of his porch, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. He eyes Steve suspiciously as he takes a few practice swings with the bat.
“Honey’s in trouble.” Eddie calls back.
Kevin’s expression darkens. He nods, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the snow. Wordlessly, he disappears inside his home, returning a moment later, his slippers replaced with boots.
Eddie watches as he crosses the park, thumping his fist on Ron’s front door. The older man opens it, dressed in plaid pyjamas, rubbing his hand over his jaw. Eddie can’t catch the words exchanged between the two men, but he sees Ron hurry to shove on his coat, emerging from his trailer, cocking his shotgun as he crosses the icy ground to where he and his friends stand.
“What’s going on?” Kevin asks.
“There’s this guy. He’s.. he-“ Eddie falters, unsure of what to say. Luckily he doesn’t need to explain, the fear in his voice tells the men everything they need to know.
Snow crunches under hurried footsteps coming there way.
“I told you to stay in the house with the kids.” Kevin snaps.
“They’re fine, they’re asleep.” Janet bites back, tightening the belt of her robe around her waist.
“What are we waiting for?”
“Hop’s on his way.” Nancy repeats.
“Well we can’t wait around for him. Let’s go.” Janet says. She marches off in the direction of your home, everyone else scrambling to follow her.
Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest as he approaches your front door. Your dad’s words echo in his head.
“I don’t know what you’ll be walking into Eddie.”
He silently prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that they’re not too late.
Janet’s fist bangs against the door. Her husband tuts, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her back behind him. The group wait in silence, Steve holding the bat behind him out of sight. Ron holds his shot gun low, but ready.
Footsteps approach the door from the other side, and it swings open. The man frowns as he takes in the group outside. He’s dressed more casually than the last time Eddie saw him, in sweatpants and a tight fitting t-shirt that clings to the bulging muscles in his arms. The Armani logo is stretched taught across his broad chest.
“Can I help you?” He sneers.
“Where’s Honey?” Eddie asks.
“She’s asleep.”
The stranger moves to close the door, stopped by Eddie’s palm slammed flat against the wood.
“I want to see her.”
Something dangerous flashes in the man’s eyes, his lips pulling back into a taunting smirk.
“Yeah well she doesn’t want to see you.” He replies cooly.
Janet shoves past her husband, standing by Eddie’s side.
“Honey! Honey can you come out here sweetheart?” She shouts. She moves forward, attempting to squeeze past the broad frame blocking the doorway.
“Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He shouts, a large fist wrapping around the top of Janet’s arm.
Eddie doesn’t have time to process what he’s doing, an instinct he’s unfamiliar with taking over, white hot fury burning in his chest at seeing the guy manhandling someone he cares for. He clutches a fist of Armani and shoves hard. He might be bigger, but Eddie’s caught the stranger off guard, and the force of his push sends him reeling back into the house, Janet still held in his grip, the three of them toppling to the ground.
Bodies rush in behind them, a chorus of shouts, hands grabbing and twisting and shoving.
Eddie catches a fist to the temple, the collision momentarily stunning him, black spots swirling in his vision. As he blinks rapidly, he draws his own arm back, ringed knuckles making contact with snarling lips, a spray of crimson decorating his pale skin.
Robin grabs the back of Eddie’s shirt, pulling hard and choking him, but he’s grateful for it when the man’s next swing catches nothing but the air in front of his face.
Eddie’s view is blocked by Steve, bat held high ready to swing down, and Ron, who aims the barrel of his gun square at the man’s chest.
“Easy there boy.” Ron growls.
Kevin pulls Eddie to his feet. He rubs at his throbbing temple, still a little dazed from the hit.
“Eddie?”
The timid voice has Eddie’s head snapping to the left. Relief knocks the air from his lungs when he sees you lingering in the hall, no visible bruises or cuts. He made it in time.
In three quick strides he’s crossed the room to you, arms open for you to collapse into. You bury your face in his neck, dampening his skin with your tears, shoulders heaving as you sob.
He wraps his arms tight you, hands resting on your back and pulling you in close.
The sharp yelp that you let out makes him jolt, eyes wide with fear when you squirm away from him.
“W-what… what did he do to you?” Eddie whispers.
“You keep your fucking mouth shut!” The man shouts, still sitting on the floor at Steve’s feet. A swift kick to the groin makes him double over, groaning loudly as he clutches his crotch.
“Sweetheart.” Eddie says softly. He takes a step towards you, arms held up by his chest, trying to show you that he’s not a threat, that he’d never hurt you.
“Tell me what’s happened.”
“I was just about to ask the same question.”
Eddie spins, finding Hopper stood in the doorway to your home, blue lights illuminating the dark behind him.
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
It didn’t take long for the chief to make a clear assessment of the situation, despite you still crying so hard you couldn’t say a word. Janet and the girls lead you back into your room, as officer Callahan puts the man - Richie - into cuffs and pulls him roughly out to his patrol car.
Eddie sits slumped on the couch, his head in his hands. Steve lowers himself down beside him, rubbing soothing circles over his back, his palm catching on the notches of Eddie’s spine that poke through his thin t-shirt.
“It’s gonna be okay. She’ll be alright.” He murmurs.
Eddie wants to ask him how he can be so sure. But he just stays silent.
A few minutes later he hears the soft click of your bedroom door opening and closing. Janet and Nancy emerge from the dim hallway, the latter looking pale and shaken.
“Where’s Kev?” Janet asks.
“Went home to check on the kids.” Ron answers.
“Is she okay?” Eddie says, his voice wobbling.
Janet looks at him, her lips pressed into a tight line, brows pinched.
“She needs to go to the ER, but she’s refusing.” She says quietly.
Eddie’s stomach turns over. How bad did he hurt you that you need to go to hospital?
“I’m first aid trained. Maybe I can -“
“No.” Janet says firmly, interrupting Hopper.
“I know you mean well Hop. But the last thing she needs is a man touching her right now.”
Hopper nods and shuffles awkwardly.
“What if we get an ambulance out here?” He offers.
“I think she’ll freak out if we do.” Janet sighs.
Eddie stands and makes his way to your phone in the kitchen.
“Eddie, I really don’t think an ambulance is a good idea.” Janet insists.
“I’m not calling 911. I know someone who can help.” He says.
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
The quiet tap on the door makes you flinch, pressing yourself harder into Robin’s side.
“It’s okay.” She whispers, her hand squeezing yours in reassurance.
Nancy opens the door just enough to let Shannon in. She moves slowly into the room, placing a heavy box of medical supplies down at the foot of your bed.
“Hey there darlin’.” She says softly. Her hands cup your tear stained cheeks, thumbs swiping over the wetness and brushing it away.
“I’m gonna get you all fixed up, okay?”
“O-okay.” You say shakily.
“Girls, why don’t we give them some space.” Janet suggests, tilting her head to the door. Nancy nods, and Robin presses a quick kiss to your temple before standing.
“Wait. C-can you stay, please?” You whisper to Janet.
You knew your mom was on the way, but it would still be at least another hour before she arrived. And right now you needed the warmth and kindness of a mother’s love, even if it wasn’t your own.
“Of course I can Honey.” She smiles.
Once it’s just the three of you, you follow Shannon’s instructions, sitting cross legged in the middle of your bed. She takes the space behind you, Janet sitting in front. Someone must have told her where to expect the worst of your injuries.
“I need you to take this off for me darlin’. Can you do that?” Shannon says softly, her hands holding the hem of your shirt.
————
You nod, wincing as you lift your arms above your head. She tries her best to be careful as she pulls the shirt up, but the cheap poly-cotton blend clings to congealed blood on your back, making you whine when it peels away.
Janet’s ready with a pillow, which you clutch to your chest, clinging to what little shred of modesty you have left. She glances over your shoulder, trying to read Shannon’s reaction.
The woman behind you is a professional, no doubt she’s seen far worse. She makes no sound, no sharp gasp like Janet had, no pained whimper like Nancy. But you can’t see the sadness in her eyes, or the way she shakes her head in disbelief.
“Honey, these are gonna need stitches. If you let us take you to the ER we can get you some local anaesthetic.”
“No, please.” You mumble against the pillow, chin tucked into the softness.
“I don’t want to go to hospital.”
You don’t want to be poked and prodded by unfamiliar hands, lit up by harsh fluorescents as strangers in white coats crowd around you.
“Okay. I - I can do them here. But it’s gonna hurt like hell.”
“It’s okay.” You whisper.
The sharp smell of antiseptic stings your nostrils, the quiet glug of the liquid as Shannon soaks a handful of cotton balls.
“Sorry Honey, this is going to sting.” She warns.
When the cool liquid first makes contact with your searing hot flesh you cry out, back arching away from Shannon’s touch. Janet grabs your hands, lacing her fingers with yours.
“Deep breaths. That’s a good girl. Just squeeze my hands when it hurts.” She instructs.
You whimper and writhe as Shannon cleans your wounds, tears streaming down your cheeks, each press of damp cotton pulling sharp gasps from your throat. It feels like it takes an eternity for her to make her way down from your shoulder blades to the base of your spine.
“There we go. That part’s all done.” She says softly. You hear the rustle of a plastic bag as she discards the now bloodied balls of cotton.
“I’ll give you a minute before we do the stitches.”
“Th-thank you.” You sniffle.
Richie’s yelling and cursing stopped a while ago. You assume he must be at the station, you’d caught a glimpse of an officer wrenching his arms behind his back and roughly securing the cuffs before the girls ushered you out of the room. The thought should bring you some comfort, but if anything, it just makes you more scared.
His fury before would never compare to now, not after such a public humiliation that was all your fault. He’d make you pay for it, that was certain.
“You ready?” Shannon whispers, disrupting your thoughts.
“Yeah. I’m ready.” You reply.
There’s a sharp snap of rubber as she changes her gloves, the rustling of more plastic when she opens up her supplies. You flinch at a touch, expecting the scratch of a needle, but instead Shannon brushes her fingertips over a thin strip of skin, one of the only spots that’s not bruised and bloody.
“Honey, how.. what did he-“
“His belt.” You murmur.
“It was his belt.”
You cringe at the memory.
Heavy snaps of leather pulled taught between his fists. Relentless blows raining down on your exposed skin, no second for reprieve between them. The bite of his buckle, thick and sharp, cutting deep into your skin with every swing.
His anger was unlike anything you’d seen from him before.
You were used to shouting and snarling, his temper burning hot until his whole body vibrated with it, a beast inside that he couldn’t control clawing its way out.
Last night he’d been remarkably controlled. Eyes cold and uncaring, no shake in his hands, no cruel words passing his lips. Calm as he delivered your punishment. Like it was inevitable. Like you deserved it.
You passed out from the pain. He left you on the bed, choosing to sleep on the couch. You woke the following morning, barely able to move. He didn’t say a word when you finally managed to pull yourself from the bed, shuffling into the bathroom to clean yourself as best you could.
Stepping hesitantly into the living room in the early afternoon, he sneered at the sight of you, so much venom and disgust on his face.
“Pack your shit tonight. We’ll leave in the morning.” He snapped. Then he turned back to the TV.
“Jesus Christ.” Janet mutters.
“He’s never going to touch you again Honey.” Shannon says determinedly.
“Never.”
You nod, wishing that you believed her words.
“Okay. Take another deep breath for me darlin’.” She whispers, readying the needle to plunge into your skin.
————
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
The living room had cleared out, Kevin returning home to check on the sleeping children, Ron patting Eddie firmly on the back before walking back to his trailer, the bottom of his pyjama pants soaked from the snow.
Eddie’s friends left eventually too, not wanting to overwhelm you if you did finally come out of your room. They all hugged him tight before their exit, making him promise to call in the morning with any updates.
Eddie, Wayne, and Hopper were the only ones left, the later waiting to speak to your parents when they arrived. He excuses himself, stepping outside to smoke and call Joyce, cursing under his breath as his large fingers struggled to punch the tiny numbers in on his cell phone.
Wayne takes a seat next to his nephew on the couch, exhaling a deep sigh as he sinks back against the floral cushions.
“Talk to me kid.” He says, his usually gruff voice turned soft.
“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“It’s all my fault.” Eddie whispers.
His admission hangs heavy in the air. Guilt wraps around his heart and squeezes tight.
“How is this your fault?” Wayne asks.
“I just left her. I should have known something was up, I should’ve known her better than to think… to think that she’d wanted him here. I was so mad at her. I was so blinded by it that I just let her go with him, and now look what’s happened.”
Wayne sits up, his calloused palm laying over Eddie’s forearm.
“Son, look at me.” He orders.
Eddie obeys, forcing himself to meet his uncle’s pale eyes.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cause this. There was no way for you to predict that somethin’ like this would happen, you were upset, and that’s understandable. But you did the right thing by her in the end. The second that you knew she was in danger you came over here to help her. ‘Cause that’s what you do kid. You don’t run. You stand up and face things, even when it’s hard, even when you’re scared. I’m proud of you.”
In the following quiet, Eddie thinks on Wayne’s words.
He’d always considered himself a coward. He’d ran from Chrissy, ran from the cops, ran from Jason and his gang.
But he’d also cut the rope, thrown himself head first into danger even when it almost cost him his life. He’d stayed in this town for years, even when he knew that most people wanted him gone. He’d stayed for his friends, his family, he’d stayed because Hawkins was his home. And then he’d stayed for you. So maybe he wasn’t a coward after all.
When Janet and Shannon emerge from your room, Eddie jumps up from the couch.
Wayne stands and crosses the room quickly to take his clearly shaken partner in his arms.
“Is she okay?” Eddie asks.
“She’s a mess.” Shannon says, voice thick with emotion, tears pooling in her eyes.
Eddie realises then he’s only ever seen her cry with joy before, like the day Rosie announced she was expecting, or the night when she first brought baby Florence home. Shannon always smiled. Sadness didn’t suit her.
“I did the best I could to clean her up. We’ll need to keep an eye on her for signs of infection. A-and she’s going to have some nasty scars once she’s healed.”
Wayne grimaces, squeezing Shannon tighter. She clamps her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob.
“He - he belted her!” She exclaims, her tears now flowing freely.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Wayne says lowly. His pale eyes look glassy too. And Eddie knows Wayne never cries.
Eddie feels sick, the room spinning around him.
“I’m going to get going.” Janet says, placing her hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
“If either of you need me, just come and get me.”
Eddie nods, his tongue too swollen in his mouth to offer a proper response. The front door clicks closed behind Janet.
“Can I see her?” Eddie whispers.
Shannon turns to him, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“You can try darlin’. I don’t know if she’s feeling up to having much company. But you can try.”
Despite doing his best to tread carefully, Eddie feels like each step he takes along the carpeted hallway thumps and echos. He’s walked down this space a hundred times, but now he feels lost, fear churning in his guts that this might be the time you reject him when he knocks on your door.
“Sweetheart?” He calls softly, cringing at the way his voice squeaks. He clears his throat.
“It’s just me.”
For a brief moment he’s met with silence. It seems to stretch on for eons. Are you ignoring him? Would you find it unforgivable that he let this happen to you.
To Eddie’s relief, he hears your voice telling him to come in.
The door creaks as it opens, revealing your dim room, lit only by the bedside lamp. You’re sitting up on your bed facing him, a pillow held to your chest, bare shoulders exposed over the top.
“Hey Honey.” He says quietly. He lingers in the doorway, unsure if he should come any closer.
“Eddie.”
You whimper his name, face crumpling as tears spill.
“Oh sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He begs.
His legs move of their own accord, carrying him across the room to you. He takes the space beside you, where he’d spent so many nights with your head resting on his chest. He reaches up to touch your face, but hesitates, hand frozen in mid air, not knowing if he can touch you.
You lean forward, your warm cheek nestled into his palm.
“I’m sorry. I-I’m so so sorry.” You cry.
“I didn’t want to kiss him. I swear.”
Eddie can’t believe that you’re apologising to him. It all feels backwards, that you’d be worried about some stupid kiss. Eddie frankly couldn’t care less about it now, too concerned for you to think of his own feelings.
“I know sweetheart. It’s okay. You’re okay now.”
Laying back against the pillows, Eddie holds one arm out, creating a space for you to tuck yourself into. You wince as you stretch out, and he catches a glimpse of your back. Irritated skin, tender and sore, peeking out of the edges of the dressings Shannon had so carefully applied.
Eddie’s teeth clench together.
You’re babbling now, everything spilling out at once.
“I didn’t know what to do Eddie. I didn’t want him to hurt you, I knew he would. I was j-just trying to protect you.”
“Shh, Honey. It’s okay, sweet girl. I-I should be apologising to you. I should’ve never let you go.”
“You weren’t to know.” You mumble, face pressed against his t-shirt, the fabric darkening as your tears stain it.
“Look at me Honey.” Eddie whispers.
You tilt your chin up, the fearful look in your glassy eyes breaking Eddie’s heart.
“He’ll never hurt you again. I’ve got you. I’m here.” He promises.
He wants to seal his promise with a kiss, want to chase away the taste of that monster on your lips. But Eddie doesn’t duck his head down, terrified of overstepping your boundaries.
You’re the one that chases him, ignoring the sting in your back as you stretch. Your lips press firmly against his, your anxieties and his melting away with the brief meeting of your mouths.
It feels like you’re making a promise to him too.
When you pull away you let your head fall back to Eddie’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. He strokes your hair, holding you until your breathing slows and deepens, and he knows that you’re asleep.
𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍
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harrywavycurly · 1 month
Text
Secret Rendezvous Part 3: Crush
Masterlist: Here
TW: Language
Tag List: @emma77645 @aol19 @tlclick73 @prestinalove @kailey-firefly @fromasgardandback @therealgothamguardianfr @peaches-roses-sins @hiscrimsonangel @furiousladyking @angelina16torres-blog @sofaritsalrightt @josephquinnsfreckles @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @jasminelafleur @ohmeg
A/N: This is short and sweet but it’s an important one and you’ll see why in the next update also Eddie is an “asshole” but you’re slowly wearing him down✨
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allthingseddie · 9 months
Text
I Wanna Be Yours - Part Two
Part One Here Part Three Here
It had been a couple of weeks since you had confessed your feelings about Eddie to Robin and you had shoved the thoughts to the back of your mind yet again. Steve and Robin had asked both you and Eddie to come out with the two of them, like old times. This was something that almost rarely happened since Halle was born. It would usually result in just one of you going out while the other stayed home with the girl. Eddie really didn’t like leaving her at all if he could help it and you couldn’t blame him, you wanted to spend a good chunk of your time with her as well. Steve and Robin had worn Eddie and you both down together, convincing you to let Nancy to watch Halle overnight. Nancy and Johnathan had their own daughter who was right around Halle’s age, but just a little bit younger.
It was going to be Halle’s first night staying at someone other than Wayne’s house without her dad. Eddie had hesitantly agreed to the night out with his group of friends. When you all got to the hideout later that evening, the first thing he did was call Nancy and Johnathan’s to check in on her. Nancy has assured Eddie that Halle was doing great. Her and Emma were both fast asleep by now. Once he got off of the phone and handed it back to the bartender, he sat at the table with his small group of friends.
“How’s Halle?,” You ask as he sits down.
“She’s good. She’s asleep for the night so I think we’ll be okay,” He responds.
“See man, everything is under control. Relax, have a few drinks,” Steve said and handed Eddie a shot. It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t drink anymore, he liked to come home from his shift at the plant on Friday’s and have a few beers after Halle was asleep in her bed, but he hadn’t been out and gone drinking with his friends in what felt like years. Eddie took the shot Steve handed him and tried to cut loose a little bit. He was happy that you were here with him and knowing that he wasn’t the only one wanting to know the wellbeing of his daughter. He really appreciated that you cared so much for his daughter. You all take a few more shots and Eddie notices that you’re anxiously checking the time on your watch every 15 minutes or so.
“Guys c’mon, you’re in your 20’s, act like it!,” Robin said passing out more shots. You knew in the back of your head that she was right. You had taken about 3 shots at this point and started to feel the alcohol warming your body. Most other 23 year olds you knew would be out partying like this most nights of the week. Even most 25 year olds you knew were still in that phase of your life. So you knew that you and Eddie acting like you were a couple of 50 year olds was completely abnormal for your age range. A band comes on stage and Eddie glances up to see a group of guys that were probably in their early twenties starting a set.
As he watched the band play, he thought back to his own days of being in their position. He missed those days from time to time. The more those thoughts flooded his mind, the more he realized that he did deserve to have a single night of partying like the old days. The more shots Robin, the more she cheered for the band on the stage, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her when she did. Since it was a Saturday night, there were more people than normal at the Hideout, but there still wasn’t a great big crowd. Robin was really standing out amongst the crowd. She grabbed your hand and pulled you up with her to dance along to the catchy rock song that band was playing and started cheering for them even more. You laughed and felt yourself relaxing as you danced along with Robin.
“Can’t believe that that was you up there not long ago, huh?,” Steve asked Eddie and they both chuckled.
“Yeah man, it’s crazy how fast time is going by. I don’t get to play my guitar as much as I would like to anymore. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade Halle for anything in the world, but it would be nice to have some time to pick up my old hobby again and maybe even play a gig again,” Eddie responded.
“Hey man, there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to justify missing a time before your kid. You do so much for her and you deserve to have some you time,” Steve says and Eddie just nods in agreement.
“Speaking of you time, have you been talking to anyone lately?,” Steve asks Eddie. Steve seemed to be very interested in Eddie’s love life lately and he couldn’t figure out why.
“Nah, man, I don’t have time for dating,” He said, subconsciously looking over at you dancing along to the music. Steve follows his gaze and smirks.
“Uh huh, sure,” He says and chuckles. Eddie looks back at Steve and furrows his brows.
“What does that mean?,” Eddie asks.
“I just mean that maybe you’re basically in a relationship and don’t realize it,” Steve says, taking a swig of his drink.
“I am not in a relationship,” Eddie says defensively.
“Eddie, I have never had someone look at me the way you look at Y/N,” Steve states.
“I don’t look at her in a certain way. She’s my best friend and the godmother to my daughter,” Eddie responds.
“She’s basically your wife, Ed. You’re living in ignorant domestic bliss. That’s why you’re not interested in dating,” Steve chuckles again and Eddie scoffs.
“She is not my wife man,” Eddie replies.
“Okay, then tell me you’re not in love with her,” Steve says.
“I love her because she’s my best friend and has been for years,” Eddie says, not meeting Steves eyes, but not admitting his true feelings.
“Uh huh, that’s just a fancy way of saying you’re in love with her. Those almost sound like wedding vows,” Steve teases Eddie. Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Hey guys, the band invited Y/N and I over for a drink to their table. We’ll be right back,” Robin says taking another shot and grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the bands table. Eddie’s eyes wander over to you as you sit down at the table next to one of the band members. He watches as he put his arms around your shoulders and orders drinks for the table and Eddie scoffs again.
“Ooh, someone’s jealous. Gonna be hard hiding those feelings now lover boy,” Steve teases Eddie again. Eddie looks at Steve with an annoyed face.
“Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life anyways?,” Eddie asks him.
“Well, before you know it, Halle will be starting school, giving you some more free time. I just think it would be easier if you realized now that you had the girl of your dreams literally living with you and helping you raise your kid before you started trying to get back out on the dating scene,” Steve responds.
“Well thank you very much for you concern Harrington, but I’m a big boy and I can handle myself,” Eddie says, looking over at you again. You meet his eyes for a second and make a fake disgusted face at him without anyone else seeing to signal that the guy with his arm around you was getting on your nerves and he chuckled.
“Case in point. You two can literally communicate without communicating. You’re so in love with each other and oblivious its disgusting,” Steve says.
“Wait, at first you assumed that I was in love with her, now you’re assuming that she’s also in love with me?,” Eddie asks looking at Steve again.
“Takes two people to make a marriage work Eddie,” Steve says and Eddie rolls his eyes yet again ,” Your eyes are gonna get stuck like that.”
“You sound like me scolding my 4 year old,” Eddie says.
“Well she had to learn that little move from someone,” Steve responds and Eddie glares at him.
“Can we just have a fun night man?,” Eddie says taking another shot.
“Sure Ed, I’ll drop it for now,” Steve says taking a drink of his coca-cola. You and Robin come back over to the table and you give Eddie a look as you sit back down beside him.
“That guy was getting on your nerves?,” Eddie chuckles.
“More than you know. ‘Oh I’m just so good at guitar man. I’m like a prodigy, at least that’s what my mommy tells me before she tucks me in at night’,” You mock the guy who was flirting with you a few moments ago and your friends all laugh ,” I’ve never met anyone with a bigger ego.”
“Hey there was always Steve a few years ago,” Eddie laughs and it was Steves turn to roll his eyes.
“Careful, they’re gonna get stuck like that Stevie,” You say and laugh and Steve gives Eddie a look to which Eddie laughs a little harder. You all hang out at the hideout for a little longer before Steve decides to take you all to the local diner to get some food in you. He only had one drink at the beginning of the night so he could DD for everyone. You pull into the diner and make your way inside. You side on one side of the booth with Eddie while Robin and Steve sit on the other side. You all order some food and make some small talk as you wait for it to come. You are looking out the window when Eddie gently nudges you.
“Are you okay?,” He asks looking concerned.
“Do you think Halle’s sleeping through the night? She took her stuffed bunny with her right?,” You ask looking at him and he wanted to kiss you right there.
“Yeah she took it with her. I think she’ll be alright. It’s already 2am so were halfway there until she comes home anyway,” Eddie says smiling at you and rubbing his hand over your arm. You rest your head on his shoulder and sigh in relief.
“You’re right, she usually sleeps like a rock after midnight anyways,” You say and yawn yourself. Your food is finally brought to the table and you start eating your fries. The longer you sit in the diner, the more tired you get. This is the latest you have stayed up in a long time. Once you are all finished eating, Steve drops you and Eddie off at your apartment. You make your way inside and collapse on the couch.
“I’m never going out with them again,” You say as you lay your head on arm of the couch,” How can they stay out so late.”
“I am right with you there,” Eddie replies, lifting your feet and sitting down so they’re now propped on his lap. He thinks back to what Steve said to him earlier in the night about you two practically being a married couple and he couldn’t help but start to notice it a little bit himself as his hands rested on your shins and gently stroked them. Steve and Robin would never sit like this. He looked up at you and saw that you were drifting to sleep and pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.
“Alright, c’mon sweetheart, time for bed,” He said, gently nudging you awake. You begrudgingly sit up and let Eddie grab your hand to help you off the couch. You both walk down the hallway and divide into your separate bedrooms.
“Goodnight sweetheart,” He says.
“Goodnight Eds,” You say yawning shutting your bedroom door behind you. You lay in your bed and drift off to sleep after changing into some comfortable clothes.
————————————————————
“Be gentle baby.”
You are woken up the next morning by soft giggling and someone playing with your hair. You open your eyes and the first thing you see is Halle and you bring her into a sleepy hug. You open your eyes and see Eddie standing beside your bed.
“She couldn’t wait until you woke up,” He says apologetically.
“It’s okay, I wanted to come with you to get her,” You say, disappointed you didn’t get to see her sooner.
“You were snoring pretty loud so I figured I’d let you sleep in,” He says and chuckles, sitting down on the edge of your bed. You open your mouth dramatically in offense.
“I do not snore”
“Oh you so do,” Eddie responds laughing.
“Hals, do you hear the mean words your dad is saying to me?,” You ask looking at the girl.
“You snored loud,” Halle says matter-o-factly.
“Betrayal!,” You tease and tickle Halles neck. She giggles loudly and you smile widely at her.
“How about you two get ready and I take you out for brunch,” Eddie says looking at you and Halle.
“What’s wrong with how I look now Munson?,” You ask jokingly looking up at him. You know you look like a mess with your makeup from last night still on and in your mismatched clothes as you sleepily pulled out of your dresser the night before.
“You don’t match and you got spots on your face,” Halle says looking at you.
“Baby that wasn’t very nice,” Eddie says and tries to hide a laugh.
“Wow, if you ever need to be humbled, just talk to a 4 year old. But the child speaks the truth,” You say laughing. You get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You put on your best pair of sweatpants and a band t-shirt with your converse and put your hair up in a bun. You walk out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth and make your way out to the living room.
“This is as best as you’re getting today,” You say to Eddie.
“Hey you look good enough to me,” Eddie says, wearing a very similar outfit. You notice Halle is also dressed in sweatpants and a mini band t-shirt, except the outfit is paired with her rainbow sneakers.
“She wouldn’t let me put her in any other shoes,” Eddie says chuckling when he notices that you’re looking at her outfit.
“She looks great!,” You say smiling at Halle. The three of you make your way to the diner you were at the night before and order some food. It is technically yours and Eddie’s breakfast, but Halle’s lunch. The waitress comes over and sets down your drinks.
“You three are just the cutest little family. It’s adorable that you’re all matching,” She says and walks away before you can respond. This happened quite often where people assumed you were Halle’s mom. It made your heart soar but it was always a little bit awkward. Your food finally arrived shortly after and you started eating.
“Are you my mom?,” Halle asks as you take a bite of your omelette and it takes everything in you not to choke on it.
“She’s your godmom baby,” Eddie responds.
“Yeah but Nancy has her new baby in her tummy and Emma called her mommy. Was I in your tummy?,” Halle asks you and you feel like your heart could break into a million pieces. You were in shock and thankfully Eddie comes to your rescue.
“You weren’t in her tummy baby. You were in someone else’s tummy. We were just lucky enough that Y/N and daddy were friends before you were born and so she’s been here your whole life. I asked her to be your godmother when you were born and she said yes and she’s loved you ever since. ,” Eddie says. You both knew that she would have these questions someday, but you never thought they would come about while she was still so young.
“Am I supposed to call you mommy?,” Halle asks.
“No baby, you can just call me Y/N,” You respond to her. You would love nothing more than to be her real mom. If she ever did call you mommy, you would probably die from excitement. Halle still has a small look of curiosity on her face but she accepts your answers and continues eating her chicken tenders. You meet Eddie’s gaze and he looks at you apologetically. You give him a small smile as if to signal that it is okay and that he has nothing to worry about. After you finish eating, Eddie drives the three of you home.
You do your Sunday tasks as you always do. You’re folding your laundry when the house phone rings and you get up to answer it.
“Hello?,” You ask.
“Hey Y/N, its Wayne. I was just calling to see if you three were still coming over for dinner tonight?,” Wayne asks over the phone.
“Yeah Wayne we are. 5 still a good time?,” You respond.
“Sounds good honey, what did you want for dinner tonight?,” He asks you.
“How about we stop by and grab some pizza on our way over tonight? You either bought or made us dinner the last couple of weeks,” You respond.
“Alright if you insist,” Wayne chuckles.
“Pizza it is,” You respond.
“I’ll see you three later. Give Halle all my love,” He says.
“Will do, see ya later. Bye,” You respond hanging up.
“Who was that?,” Eddie asks.
“Wayne. We’re bringing pizza over for dinner tonight at 5,” You say looking at him.
“Grandpa?,” Halle asks excitedly.
“Yeah and I almost forgot, he told me to give you something,” You say crouching down to be on her level.
“What?,” She asks with a smile. You wrap her up in your arms and press kisses to her cheeks and she laughs gleefully. You pull away and look at her.
“He told me to give you all his love,” you say looking at Halle.
“What am I? Chopped liver? He didn’t want to split his love with me?,” Eddie asks dramatically and laughs.
“Hey, I’m just following his orders,” You shrug your shoulders at Eddie.
“I will so be bringing this up to him tonight,” Eddie says jokingly. You finish up your weekly chores and before you know it, you’re heading out the door to go to Waynes house. You drive the three of you there and stop to grab some pizza along the way. You arrive at Wayne’s and Halle runs in as fast as she can.
“Grandpa!! I got your love from Y/N!,” She says as she hugs Waynes legs.
“Did you? I’m so happy,” Wayne says and hugs the girl back. She runs and plops down on his living room floor and starts playing with a few of her toys that stay here.
“Yeah, what’s with you giving all your love to Halle and not splitting it with me?,” Eddie jokes as he hugs Wayne.
“Wouldn’t you just love an excuse to have a pretty girl kiss you,” Wayne says quietly to Eddie and pulls away from the hug to see Eddie’s face flush. You walk in the door with the pizza in your hands.
“Hey honey how are you?,” Wayne asks, setting the pizza on the counter and bringing you into a hug.
“Hey Wayne. I’ve been good! How have you been?,” You ask.
“I’ve been good honey thanks for asking,” He responds. The four of you sit and start eating pizza together.
“Y/N, are you still seeing that young man you told me about?,” Wayne asks you.
“Oh no, not anymore. I just figured it would be better if I stay single and focus on myself for a while,” You respond taking a bite of your pizza.
“Atta girl. You’re young and you’ll have plenty of time to find someone,” Wayne says. He shoot’s a side look over to Eddie. He, too, has recently being teasing his nephew about having feelings for you. Eddie shoots a look back to Wayne and continues eating his pizza. You all spend the evening with Wayne and finally head home when its around Halle’s bedtime. You arrive back at your apartment and help get Halle ready for bed. She insists that you cuddle with her for a little bit first. You oblige happily and think back to when she asked if you were her mommy this morning and you desperately wished you would have been able to tell her yes as she fell asleep in your arms. You make your way to your own bed and lay down for the night thinking of the good weekend you had and how you wish it didn’t have to end.
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