#this fic brought to you by the aggressive canadian way avril says 'sorry' in this song

[muertawrites]

omg I saw that little note at the end about you maybe making a fic based off sk8er boi 👀 can’t wait if you decide to write it!!

A Girl You Used to Know (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Word Count: 900 (exactly too??? i'm a fucking witch. not editing this.)

Author's Note: did i watch a nearly 20 year old sims 2 music video for this song to psych myself up for writing this? no shame in admitting i did. is this a direct callout post to all the cheerleader!reader fics polluting this godforsaken hellsite? maybe. we'll see how much hate mail i have to ignore. this one is for my alt babes. we all know eddie would like us better.

"I can't do this anymore."

She blinked, uncomprehending.

"What?"

Eddie huffed. He uncrossed his arms, shoulders hunching, tense. Angry.

"I can't keep... fucking you like I don't feel anything for you. Like you don't get off on the fact that I'm corrupting you or some shit. Sneaking around while you're too ashamed to go out in fucking public with me."

She laughed, and he seethed. The broad actually laughed at him.

"Are you serious?" she quipped. "You're dumping me? You're dumping me. Eddie 'The Freak' is dumping the one girl in Hawkins who can have anyone she wants."

"Yeah," he spat back at her. "I am. And I have a feeling I'm not gonna regret it."

She cackled, waving her manicured hand in his face as if to dismiss him.

"That's so rich!" she cheered. "You really are as dumb as they say. You clearly don't realize how totally out of your league I am. How lucky you are that I even let you kiss me in the first place, let alone take my virginity."

"Well, if I could give it back to you, I would. I don't want any part of you anymore. I'm done being used for whatever sick fetish you're trying to fulfill."

The conversation comes back to him vividly, playing out almost in real time as she approaches him. She's definitely out of place here - blonde hair immaculately curled, pinned back with a pearl barrette, white mini skirt under a powder blue sweater. But she smiles at him all the same, running into his arms like the lover he once thought she was.

"Eddie!" she squeals.

"Bethany," he deadpans. His arms go weak at her sides, falling limp with disdain. Her perfume is way too strong, too musky; he gags on the toxic cloud that envelops him.

"I'm so proud of you!" the little cherub squeaks as they part. "I saw your music video on MTV the other day and just had to come see you! You're, like, a major rockstar now!"

She giggles in the way she thinks is infectious, but is actually just vapid. Empty. A hand raises to her cheek to swipe at a stray curl that's stuck in her lip gloss, and Eddie can't ignore the glint of the diamond on her ring finger.

"I didn't think you liked metal," is all he can bring himself to say.

"What, I can't support an old flame?" she asks, giggling still. The sound grates at the inside of his skull.

"You know I'm married," he blurts.

It's a lie, but she blanches all the same.

"O...Oh?"

Her smile falters and she can't hide it. Head cheerleader, homecoming queen, the princess of Hawkins, Indiana has lost her flawless grace.

"Yeah," Eddie confirms.

"But you don't wear a ring?"

"Looks like you do, though."

Your voice cuts through the backstage din, sidling up next to Eddie and wrapping a protective arm around his waist. He physically calms, melting into your touch as easily as he would a warm shower. He gives your bum an appreciative squeeze, loving your vicious gall against the groupies.

"Bethany," he announces smugly, "this is my girlfriend."

"Pleased to meet you!" You smile, holding out a hand for the woman to shake. She takes it reluctantly, the spread of her lips entirely forced.

"I thought you said you were married," she practically growls.

"Well, common law," you state. "We've lived together for what... a year now? Anyway. You're Bethany! Eddie's told me so much about you." You don't give her the decency of keeping the venom from your tongue. "He actually wrote a song about you!"

She perks up at that, seeing something she can hold against you.

"He did?" she coos. "Oh, he was always such a romantic. Which one was it?"

"It's not released yet," Eddie tells her. "I'm actually letting her do the vocals. She sang the demo and the label loved her too much to let me take over."

He grins proudly, hugging you even closer to his side. Bethany looks like she's going to fucking explode.

"We'll send you an LP when we get the final cut!" you offer. "Here, give us your address."

You hand her a bar napkin and an eyeliner pencil, which she sneers at but accepts. After scribbling down the information, she passes it back to Eddie, who grins as his eyes scan over it.

"Still in good ol' Hawkins," he notes. "And your name's Carver now? You actually married that fucking prick?"

You halfheartedly smack his chest, shaking your head at Bethany.

"Guys like him," you muse. "Can't take them anywhere, can you?"

Your eyes cut into hers like twin chainsaws. She's so worked up she's practically vibrating with resentment.

"Well," she ekes, "it was... wonderful to see you again, Eddie. And to meet your... lovely... girlfriend."

She spits the word like used tobacco.

You and Eddie wait until she's around the corner to collapse into hysterics, leaning against each other for support as you savor her absolute destruction.

A few months later, Bethany drives to the grocery store, her infant son screaming in the back seat. She turns up the radio to drown him out, only for the disc jockey to introduce a familiar name: Corroded Coffin.

The lyrics that flow through her speakers make her grip the steering wheel with white-knuckled rage.

Too bad that you couldn't see,

See the man that boy could be.

There is more than meets the eye.

I see the soul that is inside.

🌹💀get your eddie fix💀🌹