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belokhvostikova · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩��𝐢𝐬 | An apology is definitely at hand, and Eddie cements it when he drunkenly appears at your house despite your clear disdain.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, descriptions of depression, self-deprecating thoughts, alcohol consumption, driving while intoxicated, mentions of neglectful parents, mentions of childhood abuse, mentions of domestic abuse, brief allusions to eating disorders, and brief mentions of predatory behavior.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | So sorry for the confusion, I was simply updating the color scheme of this chapter when an error was found in my tag list, which I had to edit. I had to remove the tag list, but everyone who was already in the list or asked to be will still continue to be tagged as new chapters are released.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

You stayed in your bedroom. Not studying. Not reading. Not eating. Barely even moving. The concavity of teals and pastels with trinkets and knick-knacks that constituted the room you found solace in for the last twelve years of your life had swallowed you whole. The bookcase. The vanity. The dying plants begging for life in a personified reflection to your state. Your knees. Your fingers. Your sullen face in the smudged mirror. You listened to the sounds around you. The cars. The birds. The buzzing bees of the blistering spring. So lively, not you. Your father, the whirring indication of the coffee machine that kept him alive, the clearing of his throat, and the crinkle of his newspaper, as if he didn’t proclaim the nastiest words of failure and disappointment against the child he fathered neglectfully. But you had everything—food, a roof, money—who were you to complain, right? Your bladder is full, it hurts, yet you don’t dare to move. You suck in a breath, forgetting to do so innately. Everything has become manual. Your breathing, your thinking, your will.

You’re eighteen, a senior in high school, and you want to go to college. Which one? The farthest one. You’re merely a girl, a teenage girl, a teenage girl deemed a slut because you were nice to a boy. Nothing more, nothing less. Until the next day, where you would be deduced to a whore, because that was the inevitable step for a teenage girl who was nice to a boy. And that’s all you think of. All you repeat. Because you don’t want to remember more. You just want to wait. For what? You don’t know. So you think, you sit, and you wait. Just waiting until there’s nothing more to wait for.

Maybe when you learn to let go, you’ll finally be free.

Perhaps it was the jocular facet of Wayne Munson’s personality that humored the struggling reality of his life, or maybe it was as superficial as he liked to quip an occasional joke here or there, either way, the same teasing line declaring his rambunctious nephew to be the cause of his exceeding aging—the one that always got a good chuckle out of his buddies while sharing a beer or a shy giggle from the tired waitress who worked the overnight shift just to serve him his coffee in the early hours of the morning—was vastly proving to be a coping mechanism, because Wayne Munson swore he could feel a new wrinkle brandishing his forehead as his nephew was on the verge of getting suspended… and failing… and arrested.

Eddie Munson truly did age the poor man into oblivion.

“…Twenty-two tardies, fourteen absences, thirteen detentions…”

Wayne briefly freed the indented grays of his head from one of his many beloved trucker hats before securing it back on. His calloused fingers splayed against his stressed eyebrows at an attempt to alleviate the impending pain with a heavy sigh. It was midday. He should be resting for his coming shift at the plant. But here he was, having a parent meeting with the principal for his twenty-year-old boy.

“…Persistent insubordination, frequent public outbursts, and repeated offense of inappropriate comments made against staff…”

That one made Eddie giggle. Oh, Mrs. O’Donell.

“Okay, okay,” Wayne politely interjected with a tight-lipped smile, “I think I get the picture here.”

Principal Higgins scoffed incredulously, as he dropped the particularly heavy file of Eddie’s extensive high school record. “Respectfully, I don’t think you do, sir.” Eddie rolled his eyes, as he apathetically slumped in the chair. “Your nephew has been tormenting the sanctity of my establishment for six years, six years, sir, and he’s in for a seventh after assaulting a fellow student on school grounds!”

“Oh, please, Carver deserved it-”

“Ed.” Wayne gritted with sternness.

“Mr. Munson, I specifically warned you of the potential consequences of another detention or suspension, and you went ahead and disobeyed my word! Now, charges are being threatened! This is monstrous! Vile, even! Blasphemous-”

“I told you, that jockstrap deserved it!” Eddie sat up to defend his stance, blatantly ignoring his uncle's plea to calm down. “Why aren’t you getting him in trouble, huh?! He’s the one that started all this shit! Going around and spreading lies about Y/N!”

And maybe this is when Eddie should have shut up, because the way Principal Higgins eyes bulged at the revelation honestly kinda freaked Eddie out a bit.

“Ms. Y/L/N?!” Higgins spit odiously. “This is about Ms. Y/L/N?!”

Wayne blinked between both men. “Who’s Y/N Y/L/N?”

The poor man’s presence had long been disregarded. Once again, this had been extrapolated into a battle between Higgins and Munson, a long six year war that seemed to have no ending. And you, well, you fell victim in the crossfire, left unaided, to die, vulnerable to the vultures of Hawkins High that got to pick you apart free of consequences. Because that was human nature for a small town that capitalized the American Dream with infiltrations of conservatism and conformity for the need to prioritize normalcy. And Eddie Munson was not normal, therefore you were not normal. Because you took his fucking picture.

“In my years of administration, I have never, and I mean never, have had this much havoc from two students!” It became quite astounding how much a single vein could protrude from a reddening forehead of a forty-seven-year-old man.

“This isn’t her fault!” Eddie burdened to emphasize. “Why are you always blaming her?! You used to love parading her achievements around as if they were yours, and now that she’s friends with me,” you weren’t friends with him, “you suddenly got your little feelings hurt?! You’re unbelievable!” Eddie sneered with a heavy breath and condescending laugh.

Now, Higgins had been far too familiar with Eddie’s bite, but the abrupt revelation had the man searching for words that would excuse his exaggerating behavior. “I-I, uh, well, I… t-this- this isn’t about Ms. Y/L/N, this is about you, Mr. Munson, and what you did!”

Wayne had reached his wits end, “Alright, alr-”

“What? Rightfully put Carver in his place? Yeah, I did-”

“Alright.” Wayne’s jaw was heavy with tension as a stern scrape of his teeth was gritted to end the commotion. “Look, I truly do not have the time to be doin’ this, so we’re gonna run this quickly.” He sighed with a hand massaging his stubble. “I’ll have Ed apologize.”

Eddie made his annoyance evident with a loud groan and scoff, as he waved his uncle off.

“But,” Wayne interjected, knowing his nephew would spew out more words that would worsen his consequence, “you said it yourself, sir, that Ed’s been “disrupting” your school for a couple years now, so I don’t think another repeated year would do anyone any good. Right?”

“I- I… well, I, uh, I suppose so…” Higgins mumbled.

“Perfect.” Wayne perched out of his chair with a groan from his aching back. “I think a… sincere, heartfelt apology will teach my boy a valuable lesson here.” He patted Eddie on the shoulder before yanking on his denim vest to pull him from his seat. “So, no detention, no suspension, that way Ed will get to graduate, he’ll be out of your hair, and all’s good in life.”

“I, well, I think we’re being a little too lenient-”

Wayne shoved his working hand in front of Higgins. “I appreciate your understanding, and I’m glad we were able to come to a consensus.” Dumbfoundedly, Higgins shook the man’s hand trying to process everything. “Now, I’ll get in touch with the other boy’s parents, hopefully talk them out of charges, and Ed and I will have a long talk as to why we shouldn’t hit people. Right, Ed?”

“U-um, uh, yeah- yes, sir, I’m so sorry.” Eddie nodded, faux guilt casting his face, as he pressed his lips in and threw his round eyes of disappointment to the ground.

“Well, then” Wayne sighed, “I better get going, sleep’s not gonna catch itself.”

“Mr. Munson, uh, sir-”

“Again, thank you for understanding.” Wayne shoved Eddie past the office door, before sending a polite wave to Higgins, left speechless and open-mouthed, yet no protest could be formulated, as the Munson men were out quick with a slam to the door.

Upon reaching the empty halls of the school, Wayne wondered how ethical it would be to lean against the cold, metal lockers and light a cigarette, because he had no willpower to wait until he was outside. Wayne Munson loved Eddie, he truly did. It may not have been affectionately shown for the majority of his guardianship, but it was there; through every cracked joke, every greasy late-night dinner shared, and every moment when he would miss work, because Eddie always waited last minute to finish the algebra homework that he knew he struggled with, and Wayne was there to help.

But parenthood, itself, was a troubling journey, and when abruptly placed onto a man who had no desire to ever have kids of his own, it became devastatingly unfathomable. It became worse when the kid in question knew nothing but abuse, no hugs no kisses, simply fists and swears to condition his mind with the wrongful notions as to how to express his emotions. It was grueling.

Wayne cleared his throat. “Ed.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie was quick to explain, “but I swear, it really wasn’t my fault.” His eyes pleaded to avoid the wave of disappointment he knew he brought to everyone in Hawkins.

“Boy, if this Carver kid and that girl, Y/N, are giving you trouble-”

“No, no, she’s not!” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, and huffed. “I-I mean, he is, yeah, but it’s nothing I’m not used to, so it doesn’t matter. But her, she, uh, she didn’t- I, fuck, look this is all stupid! He’s stupid, she’s stupid- I, no, she’s not stupid-”

“Eddie.” Wayne was seeing the younger boy Eddie had once been. Struggling with emotions, struggling with words, unable to process and formulate because he was scared.

“She fucking hates me, alright!” Eddie heaved. “All of this is stupid, and it doesn’t matter, because she fucking hates me! And I can’t even blame her, because I’m an awful fucking person!”

“You’re not awful-”

“I am!’ Eddie sighed to catch his breath. “C’mon, Wayne, you know I am. I nearly fucking failed for the third time in a row, because I have no self-control and apparently no fucking emotional intelligence, and now I may end up getting arrested in the middle of the fucking school day. And she fucking hates me, Wayne, she hates me!”

The quietness of the hall became deafening after Eddie’s tangent. He knew his uncle didn’t understand half of what he just uttered, but it sure as hell felt good getting it off his chest. And by now, a cigarette was looking real good to the older gentleman.

“I- shit, I’m sorry, just forget all of that.” Eddie groaned, a tense hand running through his tangled hair.

“No, no,” Wayne shook his head, “say what you need to say. It’ll do you some good.”

Eddie suspired. “Look, Jason was saying some really gross shit about Y/N that wasn’t true, and the only reason why they said all that shit was because she added me- uh, Hellfire to the yearbook.” Wayne raised an eyebrow. “I know, don’t give me that look, like I said, this is all fucking stupid. Anyways, I felt bad, he was literally causing a scene in the middle of lunch, and well, I punched him-”

“Well, see, you’re not an awful person.” Wayne pointed.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Eddie, now highlighted with genuine guilt, casted down to the floor. “When she first took our picture, I kinda yelled at her, because I thought she was just being some two-faced cheerleader, which she wasn’t, but, uh, after the whole cafeteria scene, well, she told me to just leave her alone, and um, I got defensive and called her… a sl- look, I just really fucked up, alright.”

Wayne puffed out a big breath of air. “Okay.” He really didn’t remember high school being this cursory, granted it was over thirty years ago for him. “Uh, well, did you at least apologize to her?” He truly didn’t know how else to approach this problem.

“Well, no, she got suspended yesterday because of the whole yearbook thing. Highly doubt I’ll get a chance.”

“Well, make a chance.” Wayne waved off simply.

“What?”

“You care that much about what she thinks of you, make the chance happen. Don’t just sit around, do something. And if you really don’t care, then just let it go and focus on graduating and not getting in trouble.” Wayne pulled out his pack of Camels. “Either way, I need sleep and you need to get to class.”

“It’s lunch time.”

“Then eat.” Wayne sighed, as he began walking away. “Just stay out of trouble, because there’s only so many free car repairs I’m willing to offer in order to keep your ass out of jail, boy.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

“I can’t believe this! I totally don’t look like this!” Dustin shrieked. “This is a terrible angle! And I specifically told the guy to get my good side!”

Mike laughed with a mouth full of greasy pizza. “You look like the orcs from our campaign.”

“Who looks like the orcs from our campaign?” Eddie announced his arrival, as he took a seat at the head of the table.

“Dustin!” Gareth guffawed.

“But, hey, if you really wanna feel better, take a look at Stanley Godwin who literally sneezed in the middle of his picture.” Jeff stole the yearbook from Dustin’s grabby hands. “Poor kid and his sinuses.”

But before Jeff could thumb through to find the sneezing sophomore, Eddie had forcefully yanked the brand new book from his friend. “Where the hell did you get this?!”

“I bought it.” Dustin answered. “The Yearbook Committee is already selling them. But, if you want my advice, don’t bother asking Nancy for a family discount.”

“You’re not family.” Mike sneered with a playful shove.

And in true Dustin Henderson fashion, the boy audibly gasped. “Have the last ten years meant nothing to you?”

“Is our picture still in here?” Eddie interrupted.

“Yup!” Gareth smirked. “Front and center.”

Eddie flipped through the extracurriculars, filtering through the numerous clubs before his eyes bestowed upon their photo. There they were. All of them. Their faces and names representing the Hellfire title.

“Hey, how’d the meeting with Higgins go?” Jeff snapped Eddie’s attention. “Your uncle dish one out to ya?”

“Uh, no, actually.” Eddie signed. “Got let off the hook.”

“Wait, Higgins isn’t suspending you?” Mike questioned, and Eddie merely shook his head in confirmation.

“Wow, you’d think punching his precious star athlete would get you expelled.” Dustin laughed. “I mean, even Y/N got suspended for something less. Wish she was here, so I could thank her for the photo.”

Your name had sparked something within Eddie. He quickly turned the pages to reach the senior class of 1986, and flipped until he found your face. Your fucking beautiful face. So pretty and proper, dressed in your best clothing, pearls shining around your neck, eyes glinting with perfection. You were perfect. Perfect. Down to the last minute detail. Your teeth, your lips, your skin.

Make a chance.

Eddie tore the page with much fervor in mind.

“Hey, what the hell?!” Dustin whined. “That cost me forty-five bucks!”

“Sorry, kid.” Eddie muttered, as he stood from his chair, stuffing the torn page into the leather pocket of his worn jacket.

“Where are you going?” Jeff catechized. “We’re in the middle of lunch.”

“To find Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy Cunningham was a lot harder to find than Eddie had expected. She had been in the same lunch period with him for the entirety of the semester, but the one instance he actually needed to speak to her, she wasn’t sitting with the gaggle of cheerleaders and jocks that claimed the best seats in the lunchroom. The girls’ bathroom had been his best option, now he obviously didn’t enter, but after he begrudgingly called out her name through the doorway, he felt like a creep and left rather quickly. The gym was his backup, but after peering through the small windows of the double doors, all he saw was Coach Monaghan loudly instructing scrawny freshmen through enervating suicide drills for the sake of physical education. And the health room was no luck, as the guidance counselor was enforcing teaching the importance of abstinence to a group of girls—only girls—for the sake of sexual education. More like purity culture. Eddie was running out of luck. His watch indicated the mere five minutes he had left before he’d be obligated to endure Mrs. O’Donell. But, by the grace of whatever god may or may not be out there, Eddie caught sight of the strawberry blonde sitting alone upon the writhing wood of an old picnic table just outside of the cafeteria. He walked all around, just for her to be a couple yards from where he originally was. Sometimes Eddie could only scoff at himself.

Appearing to be caught up in her own world, Eddie’s heavy footsteps went unnoticed, until he materialized into her peripheral, a startled shriek making him surrender with hands up in the air.

“Woah, hey, sorry.” He raucously chuckled, looking around to make sure no one could fabricate some false story of harassment against a cheerleader. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

But his words brought no ease to her- clearly, it was just yesterday she was cleaning up her boyfriend’s lip, because of Eddie. “I, uh, I- well, if it’s alright with you, I, um, liked to talk- well, ask you for something.” He softly assured, as she eyed him timidly.

“Um, a-about what?” Her voice could barely be picked up by the breeze of the afternoon.

Eddie took it as an invitation to sit down across from her with a tight-lipped smile. It was awkward. He took notice of her uneaten lunch, merely picked apart but not savored—well, as savored as school lunch could be. “So, uh, what brings you out here?” Perhaps an attempt at conversation with someone he never even spoke to was too bad of an idea, but he simply chose the politeness path, as he ask was pretty hefty. “Finally got tired of Jessica’s big mouth?” He laughed.

Chrissy didn’t. Jessica had made a comment, one that sounded too much like her mother’s own words.

So when Chrissy sadly shrugged, he dropped the small talk and diverted the conversation.

“Okay, look, I’m just gonna be up front.” Eddie sighed. “I need you to give me Y/N’s phone number and address.”

Her thinly groomed eyebrows creased her forehead in confusion. “Um, what?”

“Look, it’s a simple ask, alright, I just need her phone number and address.”

“No, I hear you, Eddie, I just- well, I just don’t know if she would want me to-”

“No, and I understand that, I just really need to talk to her.” Eddie pleaded. “And obviously I can’t do that at school.” Chrissy stayed quiet with contemplation. “C’mon, you guys are friends- or were friends, right? I really just want to make it up to her after all the bullshit she’s been through. Us being partially at fault because of it, y’know.”

Chrissy’s guilty round eyes met his. “I just don’t want her to hate me more.” she whispered.

Eddie’s mouth fell slightly agape, not knowing how to comfort. See, lying and saying all was good and merry between you and Chrissy in order to get what he wanted would have been his first solution—the asshole way of thinking. But being that Eddie being an asshole was the start of all your misery in the first place, he fought the urge to choose the easy way out and rubbed his face with agony.

“Yeah, no, I, uh, get it.” He huffed. “And if it’s any consolation, she fucking hates me, too. Probably more than she hates you.” He smiled. And luckily, a sadden smile curled her lips, which was a start. “And I mean, rightfully so, we were jackasses to her.” He laughed.

“I should have stuck up for her.” Chrissy sighed. “She always has for me. I mean, she’s been my best friend for four years. But Jason, he just gets so far into this idea of what people will say and think, and he doesn’t want me or him hurting from others' judgment.”

“So you judged her instead?” He couldn’t really be one to speak on the morals of virtue, as he judged, too.

“I know, it’s so stupid.” She dropped her head into her palms with shame. “And I’m not trying to excuse it, I just want her to know I’m so sorry, but I haven’t had the courage to tell her.” She groaned. “Plus, her dad is really strict and really hard on her to be so successful, that I doubt he’ll want me over after she got suspended.”

Chrissy drowned with dejection. Four years of the purest bond between young girls had been cemented into a cascade of hateful rumors and a lack of clear discernment that severed their loving connection that persevered them through the pinnacle of teenage years. As naive fourteen-year-olds, you both had stolen the locked up booze from your father’s office, and cheered one another on as you took a sip, to ensure you both appeared to know what you were doing when you arrived to Bradly Leminski’s party. Turns out, you both had accidentally drank too much in the comfort of your bedroom and missed out. You’d even watched giddily, as Jason Carver asked Chrissy out, after you ran him through the basis of what she loves, because he was determined to get her on a date. But through the woes of boys and high school parties, you’d both been there for one another through the deepest of tribulations, like when Chrissy called you bawling, because her mother’s words manipulated the way she saw herself in the beautiful dress she��d been so excited to wear for the winter formal. Or when she held you tightly after saving you from the harsh grasp of a senior, Jimmy Saunters, who forcefully shoved multiple shots of tequila down your throat, and attempted to drag you into his friend’s bedroom when you were merely a baby freshman.

Her comfort had saved you, just as yours did to her.

“Well, I mean, you can’t just not try.” Eddie reasoned. “Look, I fucking hate that she hates me, and I want to at least try to apologize to her, too, which is why I at least need her number and address, please. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you, too, whenever you get the chance.”

The school bell that Eddie had been all too familiar with screeched for the coming of class, and he jumped in hurry. “C’mon, Chrissy, please, you gotta help me out here.” The desperation became palpable. Chrissy turned and watched numerous students flood into the halls through the glass doors of the building. Caving in quickly, she rummaged through her backpack for a pink pen she’d nearly worn through after the excessive notes from her third period. But she simply grabbed Eddie’s jacket sleeve, and utilized the back of his veiny hand as a canvas for her information.

He’d ache his neck with a contorted twist of his head to watch the fading ink print what he wanted. A seven digit number lined the back of his hands, a small smile consuming his face, but then Chrissy started capping her pen away. “W-wait, uh, her address, too.”

“Um…”

“Please, I swear, if she asks, I won’t say it was you.” Eddie rushed.

Chrissy sighed, before quickly scribbling the number and street name of your home. Eddie cursed under his breath. “Christ, Pinecrest Acres? I got hired to mow some dude’s lawn in that neighborhood one summer, and some prick called the cops on me for trespassing.” He scoffed, and poor Chrissy didn’t know how to respond at the irrelevance of his news besides with an awkward chuckle. “But, anyways, thank you. I’ll, uh, leave you to it.” Eddie saluted, as he headed towards the door.

But then he abruptly turned. “Wait! Uh, tell your boyfriend I’m sorry for the, uh, whole, y’know…” And Eddie laughed, as he mimicked the shocking punch that loosened Jason Carver’s front teeth.

The entire reason why he hadn’t showed up to school that day.

“Um, don’t you want to tell him yourself?” Chrissy sweetly proffered. “I’m sure it’ll mean more.”

Eddie could roll his eyes. It was Jason Carver. Nothing Eddie did could mean shit to him.

He winced with a hiss. “Yeah, see, I totally would,” no, he wouldn’t, “but since he’s not here, and you’re the next best thing, I trust that you’ll pass on the message for me.” He smiled so sickly, Chrissy couldn’t see the drenching lies of his words.

“Oh, okay.” She agreed.

“Oh!” Eddie perked. “If Higgin’s asks, I totally did apologize to Carver, okay?” Well, maybe there was still a little asshole left in Eddie, but at least he wasn’t actively hurting anyone. Yet.

“Uh, o-okay.” She hesitantly smiled.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” He lifted his balled fist to bump with hers. It was telling of the fact that Eddie Munson had little interactions with girls his own age- or any girls for that matter. But she hesitantly bumped him back, nonetheless. “Y’know, you’re a really cool person, you should get better friends.” He affirmed, before waving a goodbye.

“Th-thanks.” She meekly watched him enter the school building.

While uncomfortable at first, the overall start of the budding friendship between Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson was one to look forward to. While they evidently had nothing in common, it was quite comical actually, they could find reassurance in one another that improvements needed to be made within themselves in order to speak to the one person they both genuinely cared for. You. They at least had that in common. And luckily for Eddie, in six hours, Chrissy Cunningham would confide to Jason Carver to drop any potential charges, and he would listen, because he loved her.

“Fuck.” Eddie mumbled under his breath. He shook the nerves from his hands, and rolled his neck in preparation. “C’mon, you can do this.”

“So, uh,” Wayne snapped Eddie’s attention. His uncle was staring at him circumspectly, as he shrugged on his jacket, “you preparin’ for a marathon, or somethin’?”

“What?” Eddie blinked through his messy bangs. “No, I’m about to make a phone call.”

“Right.” Wayne cleared his throat, studying the newfound nervousness of his nephew’s demeanor, which he hadn’t seen in- well, ever. “Ima head out to work, see ya tomorrow morning.” It was clear Eddie was waiting for his uncle to leave, as Wayne caught sight of how quickly Eddie grabbed the handle of the phone as Wayne, himself, grabbed the doorknob. “Is this about that Y/N girl?”

Eddie’s shoulder’s dropped. “Shouldn’t you be heading off to work by now?”

“Alright, alright,” Wayne mumbled, “just askin’. Be sure to eat dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, Ed. Eat.”

Eddie, in fact, did not eat.

In order to not succumb to the nauseating feeling that was churning in the pit of his tummy, he came to the concurrence that a cold beer would extenuate the ferment that made his heart skip a beat every ten seconds. Now, in typical sense, Eddie had consumed enough beer in his lifetime, that a single one shouldn’t have affected him to the extent at which this one did. But see, Eddie didn’t listen to the wise words of Wayne Munson, and his gurgling, empty stomach rocked him to the edge of tipsiness far quicker than he was used to.

And before he knew it, his cold fingertips were jamming the buttons to the sequence of Chrissy’s faded pink handwriting, and soon it began ringing- shit, the phone was ringing! Eddie began panicking in place, wavering between hanging up and bringing the phone back to his ear. He hadn’t even planned out what he would say to you. Well, he technically did, it was all that he could think about for the entire day, but each idea seemed unworthy to the standards you deserved, so he’d move on to the next thought, but then suddenly every thought was determined unfit by Eddie. Should he apologize? Fuck, of course, he should apologize, but for what first? Calling you a miserable bitch? An attention-seeking slut? Making a scene in the cafeteria? Yelling in your face? Making you cry? Jesus Christ, thinking it out loud, why on Earth would you ever accept his apology?! He should just hang up before it’s too late-

“Hello?”

Eddie Munson’s knees buckled.

He carelessly gripped the edge of his wooden table, and slowly steadied himself into the chair below. He should speak, but no words were coming out. His knuckle flew into his mouth, where his teeth brandished the tender skin with harsh indents. It was painful, but he couldn’t stop.

You spoke so featherly soft, too delicate for his usual orotund tone. The one he’d use to berate you. “Um, hello?”

“H-Hi…” He pierced out, immediately cringing at the sudden loudness he uncontrollably spoke in. “It’s, uh- well, it’s me, um… Eddie.”

It was dead quiet for what felt like an eternity.

No word, no squeak, no air. You were obviously holding your breath, and the mere thought was tearing at Eddie’s heart. “Please.” It came out so weak. “Please, Eddie, I don’t wanna start anything.”

His stomach dropped, and his hands shook with how scared you sounded. You were scared of him. In the couple of instances he interacted with you, he scared you. Because to you, he brought harm. It may not have been physical, but it was detrimental, nonetheless. And you were scared. He was becoming the sole person he did not want to become, because he knew what it was like to be scared.

“No, no, sweetheart,” he let out a shaky sigh, “I’m not gonna do anything. I promise.” He wanted to profusely vomit. It was the same words his dad had uttered to his bruised mom in order to sweet talk her out of leaving.

“I told you to leave me alone, Eddie.” You choked quietly. It was dinner. Your father was downstairs enjoying his takeout. Not yours. He stopped caring to ask the minute you refused to leave your bedroom. “I don’t even care how you got my number, but I need you to not call-”

“No, I know, sweetheart, but I really just need to talk to you.” His knuckles were casting white upon the tight grip he clutched the phone, as his lips brushed the bottom speaker in whispers. His other hand began insistently picking at the old wood of the kitchen table. Wayne would have a word with him about that. “I- what I did, I really need to tell that I’m sorry, because I truly am sor-”

“Eddie,” You gently interrupted, no energy to scream at him like your mind was begging you to do, “I don’t want your apology.” You sniffled. “If it really meant that much to you, you would have never done it to begin with, because I- I would have never done this to you. I would have never done this to you.”

His eyes clenched shut to mitigate the profound stinging of his eyes from the welling of tears his heart was urging to spill for you. He knew the probability of you accepting his apology was low, but his mother always seemed to accept his father’s after he sweet talked his way out of a domestic abuse charge. This is what was supposed to happen, right? You should be loving his words and running to forgive him, right? It was what he saw. It was what he experienced. It was what he was conditioned to believe. But you weren’t his mother. And he’d desperately do anything to not be his father. Yet everyday, the image in the mirror was sneering back that sickening smile that destroyed Eddie’s childhood. So you weren’t going to run in his arms. You were going to stand your ground, just like he wished his mother had done to his father.

“Please, sweetheart.” A gritted through his tense jaw, as a tear stained his reddening cheek. “Please.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you, Eddie.” There was no admonish to your words, in fact, you were so demure, holding back tears of your own, because he knew the ugly truth that you were well aware of the fact that if you screamed, he’d scream. And you’d, once again, be scared. “Just let me be, please. I don’t want you near me.”

The buzzing of the cutting line shot his bullet in his heart.

Your voice was gone, and yet, the phone stayed glued to his ear in hopes that he was just imagining it all. You didn’t hang up. You were still on the line. You would take back your words. You would accept his apology. But your euphonious voice never appeared again, and Eddie aggressively slammed the phone back on the hook with a grunt of frustration. The heel of his palms stabbed into his weeping eyes, as his shoulders assertively shook with every choke of his tightening breath. Rejection, heartache, vexation, and patheticism rampaged his mind from any calamity, and before he knew it, the characteristics he so badly hated about himself were being proffered up to the surface of his being.

In truth, this was the scary aspect of Eddie Munson that resembled the harm he was verbally and physically ingrained with as a tragic child who knew of no hope. All rationale was gone, and wrongful devotion rooted in his deepest fear of being neglected with disregard had overtook his judgment. Standing with all fury, his finger’s strained through the excessive flexing of joints before his balled fist broke through the drywall of his trailer. His knuckles split with blood, but it felt deserving to him. Who was Eddie Munson without the infliction of pain? Absolutely nobody, he affirmed in his mind. He was meant to suffer.

Chest heaving, beads of sweat pebbled his forehead, and the fridge door broke open. His truculent, battered hand grappled onto the torn yokes of the remaining three beers, hauling them, as his other hand reached for the keys to his van.

Eddie Munson was about to cause more harm.

“Please, jus hol’ on f’me…” His drenched lips slurred with beer, as his hand crushed the empty can he haphazardly threw into the passenger seat, where his growing collection stacked.

In the grand scheme of things, Eddie knew he was attesting to the predisposition of his role in this town, but he couldn’t help it. A lowlife, criminal, an irascible danger to society. Would you actually accept him? No, you wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t blame you. But he couldn’t stand the pre-conceived notion he’d confirmed about himself to you, and he was in desperation to speak to you. Unfortunately, Eddie had panicked, and this was happening in the ugliest, most horrifying and sinister state he’d ever been in. And you would see it all.

As lucky as one can be under the influence while driving, the cracked roads had fortunately been desolate, as nuclear families gathered around their pristine tables to lavish in the draining emotional labor of home cooked meals by their underappreciated wives. He rejected all red lights and street signs, stampeding through neighborhoods, drifting past turns, and steadily accelerating until he’d approached the spotlighted sign of Pinecrest Acres. The affluence—actually the beer and sharp curves—made his stomach turn in disgust. The aristocrats of Hawkins housed together, where they frolicked with no worries in the prolific assortment of two-stories, pool houses, parterres, and vintage cars, all while the struggling families of Forest Hills had to huddle with worn blankets to survive the blistering winters of Indiana. Ronald Reagan’s conservatism sure had an ascendancy on this place. He came to an abrupt stop after his headlights reflected the engraved 630 of your mailbox. “6… 3… 0 Pinecrest fucking Acres.” He mumbled.

His tire ran over the curb of your street before he pulled the keys from the ignition. For a second, he stopped. His breathing was becoming suffocating, as his chest fervently raised with each depth of an inhale. His hand found the door handle faster than his mind could process, and soon he was stumbling on inebriated legs to the front lawn of your house. Honestly, if your dad had found him, he would have shot him, but the man had driven himself into bed after downing the entirety of his rum.

Eddie’s eyes scaled the height of the house. “Fuck me.” Maybe he shouldn’t have chugged four beers. He cleared his throat. His joints echoed in a rhythmic sequence of pops, as he pressed and twisted his fingers to loosen up. A guttural groan escaped as his neck was next, snapping it left to right to ease out any crooks. His breaths stammered in unprecedented waverness, as his ears ached through the thudding sounds of his beating heart that seemed to be amplified in his mind. Jaw ticking. Hands shaking. Mouth dried. Body sweating. What the hell were you going to do when he’d shown up without your consent? In fact, you explicitly said to leave you alone. “Shit, shit, shit.” Eddie wanted to cry. Should he knock? No, your dad would call the cops. Would you call the cops? He sure as hell would if a drunk man harassed his yard.

But then, his stomach sank to his ass.

The one room that had been illuminated by the glowing overhead light had accentuated your silhouette. You. It was fucking you. In your room. Where you stayed, where you studied, where you slept, where you’d been crying and chose stoicism to numb the pain of everything around. But everything had happened quickly, and soon, you were gone with a sharp close of your curtains.

Eddie’s legs began working without thought, and he’d swiftly aligned himself with the window to your room, tramping the trimmed garden of crumpled rose bushes beneath his dirty sneakers. Your house had been complemented by the standing trellis that had been wrapped by vines of delicate nature. If there was any sign of either moving forward or leaving, the intricate trimming of your house perfectly starting where your trellis ended meaning Eddie had leeway to make it to your window, meaning Eddie’s intoxicated mind saw it was a passage to see you. “Jus do it f’her, do it f’her…” Regrettably, the rational part of his brain had fallen under the influence, which was screaming at him to just leave you alone.

As stealthy as a drunk man could, Eddie prayed the trellis could hold his weight, as he began scaling the flimsy wood against your wall. All he could think about was you. Every step was for you. Every splinter was for you. Every stumble was for you. Yet his clouded judgment could not process the fact that you didn’t want any of this. But the bottom of his shoe was already scuffing the white trimming of your house, and he was hoisting himself to stand upon the hipped edge roof. Crouched and begging his intoxication didn’t drop him from the second story, he quietly approached the dormer of your window.

His fingertips gently caressed the glass with great scrutiny. It was now just dawning on him as to what he’s just done. The danger he’s put himself and others in. The disrespect he’s inflicted upon you. The hurt. The knock was soft, barely comprehensible. You had ignored it, there was always noise. You tightly cuddled a bundle of your duvet, sinking yourself into the wallow of your bed in hopes of willing yourself to a serious need of sleep. But the noise continued. More apparent. More concerning.

You jolted at the clearest indication of a set of knocks cascading against your window.

Your heart began racing beyond compare, as the noise followed just outside. It was night, no one should be coming to your house, let alone your window at 9:27 p.m. And the one man you should have had full reliance on was currently passed out in his locked bedroom, where you knew awakening him would lead to a revile of the burden you’d become in his life. He said it when you were nine, and he’d freely say it again if you gave him a headache from his usual hangover.

But suddenly, the trembling of your body succumbed when you heard it.

“H-hello…”

Blindsided by the simple greeting, you stumbled out of bed with stupefaction that he would actually show up. Eddie. You ran to your window, swinging the curtains open to reveal him. Round, reddened eyes oozing with plead, as his hand pressed against your window. His heart sank at the look of disgust that his face garnered from you. He hated it. He hates your disheveled hair, your bagging pajamas, your wobbling lip. He hates you. He hates how perfect you were. Why the fuck were you so fucking perfect?

You made out the shaky “please” that left his mouth.

Opening the window swiftly, the cold breeze of the night engulfed you, as he helped you lift. “What are you doing here?!” You were quick to spit with spite.

“I-I,” upon seeing you, his eyes had an instant reaction to start welling for the shit he was putting you through, because he knew what he was wreaking was pure havoc in the normalcy of your life, “I just really needed to t-talk to you.” He managed to choke out.

His hot breath hit you like a truck, proffering memories of what a humid house party smelt like. “Are you drunk right now?!” He could only shamefully nod with closed eyes. “And you drove here?!” Another disgrace to his character. “Are you insane?!”

“M’so sorry… M’so fucking sorry, please, I-I jus- I jus-”

“You could have hurt somebody, Eddie!” Though whispered, it carried all the beratement of your anger. “You could have killed yourself!”

“I know!” He wailed with guilt. “I jus- I feel like m’losing my mind, because I need to fucking fix what I did. What I did to you! M’so sorry.” Your hands caught your head in anguish. You hated him, every being in your body wanted to shout at him, and yet, your heart was tormenting at the state he was in. And you fucking hated that you couldn’t hate him how you wanted- how you deserved. “M’sorry, I-I can leave and I swear I won-”

“You’re not fucking leaving like this, Eddie, you’re gonna get hurt.” You began tearing in frustration.

“Nonono, p-please don’t cry-”

He tried to reach out to you, but you slapped his comforting hands away, forcing him to lose his balance, before you had to steady him yourself. “You’re just saying that because you know you’re the cause.” You mumbled far too low for his drunk brain to process, while you held a tight grip around his wrist.

At an attempt to pull him in, his heavy, limp body contorted trying to bypass your window alcove, brandishing it with the streaks of his dirty shoes, and it took all your strength to stumble him onto your bed with a huff. Having him sit in place, you kneeled in front of him to get a good look at his face through the peering moonlight. He looked beyond exhausted, a testament to the agony of contrition he’s been eaten by for what he’s done to you. His eyes wholly swollen with irritation and tears that stained his flushed cheeks, as everything around him felt like it was burning hot. You couldn’t yell at him. At this state, ambushing him with an onslaught of curses and shouts would only project him into a disposition of vindication in order to protect himself. And that side of Eddie Munson was scary.

“Eddie,” you sighed, as his hanging head managed to meet your round eyes and quivering lips. “You cannot do this again. Do you hear me? You’re scaring me.” He vehemently shook his head, as his hands were quick to cover his face with shame to shield from the embarrassment he was consumed by. You pulled his arms away. “No, Eddie, I need you to say it; that you won’t do this to me again.”

“I-I… I won’t do this to you a-again- m’sorry. I won’t touch you, I promise, M’not my dad.” He sobbed.

You sighed in defeat. “What- why would you even do this in the first place? What are you talking about?” You pleaded to understand, as tears constricted your eyes.

There’s so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t know where to start. “I fucking need to fix what I did to you. I didn’t mean it, any of the shit I said to you. Being around is just so nice that I get afraid. I don’t want to lose you… a-as a friend, because- because nice things don’t happen to me, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost-” His breath had caught up to him, making him retch on nothing but tears and snot.

“Breathe, okay, Eddie, just breathe.” You quietly instructed, as he endeavored to follow suit. Your hands softly took hold of his, trying to ameliorate the violent shakes of his stiffening body, fingers delicately locking to find solace within his. And he held back so tightly.

“Nobody- nobody’s ever cared like you have.” He whimpered.

“So why treat me like this?” You mewled, sinking your teeth to discontinue the incoming sobs that stung your throat.

“Because I don’t fucking deserve you-” You were quick to immediately shush him, as your father was merely a couple doors down. “Sorry, but I can’t fucking like you, Y/N.” He murmured through a quivering lip. His mind was spewing his feelings, the one he so badly wanted to ignore, but alas, his intoxicated state was regrettably telling all. “I can’t, it hurts too much. Knowing- knowing you don’t belong with me, I-I can’t fucking hold you, hug you, I c-can’t.”

“Eddie, you could have just talked to me.” You softly cried.

“No.” He looked so terrified. “I can’t fucking hear you ignore me. I-I know you don’t like me-”

“You don’t know that-”

“Fucking look at me, Y/N.” He bawled. “Look at what I’m doing to you. You don’t fucking deserve this. M’not a good person. I hurt you. I fucking hurt you.”

“I just wished you would have given me a chance, and talked to me, Eddie.” You squeezed his hands.

“No, I don’t want to burden you.” He cried with heavy breaths. “There’s things I wanna say to you- do with you, but I should just be letting you live free from me. No one cares about what I have to say, and you know it.” He begged for you to get it. “All that bullshit about communication doesn’t mean anything when it comes to me. No one wants to hear me. No one wants me.”

Your heart shattered at the revelation because it was beyond the definitions of truth. From childhood, Eddie Munson knew he was nothing if not a punching bag to his father, a therapist to his mother, an obligation to his uncle, and a burden to everyone. It became unwarrantedly embedded into a six-year-old boy and vandalized into his twenty-year-old self. He recognized it. Everyone affirmed it.

You raked your hands from his hold, choosing to sit next to him on your bed, where your arms inundated him into a hug he had not received in years. The last close touch given to Eddie Munson left him weeping with a broken nose. He immediately fell into your embrace, shoving his head in the comfort of your neck, where his cries only amplified with the desperation of being touched lovingly. Your own tears had dampened his unruly head of hair, as you caved into him. His heavy arms constricted you tightly.

At this moment, you were not scared of Eddie Munson. You’d seen his reasoning and you understood. Not excused, but understood. A lot of people had simply scared him first.

“I hear you, Eddie. I want to keep hearing you.”

“Eddie?” You whispered into his curls.

It’d been an hour of nonstop wails of distress, years of pent up emotions, and the realization that his being could be accepted. Even if it was just for tonight. His eyes had endured a rollercoaster of feelings, and they soon gave up on holding him awake. You didn’t move. He didn’t move. A tight hug that was necessary for both of you after heavy stoicism from neglect in your own unique ways.

You caressed his head. “Eddie?”

He was out. You let out a shaky breath of relief. Carefully maneuvering his body, you gently laid his head onto your pillow, prying his strong arms from your waist where they refused to let go, bunching the fabric of your sweater. But you managed to escape his needy hold. Huffing lightly, you carried his legs onto your bed, deciding to let his shoes dirty your clean blankets. His arms had subconsciously gotten comfortable, splaying out against your mattress, where he fell into deep relaxation in comparison to the lumpy bed he’d succumb to back home. You took sight of the fading ink across his hand, your information decorating his alabaster skin with the all too familiar pink of Chrissy Cunningham’s pen. You wondered how the hell that conversation had gone down. You tenderly eased his arms from the malaise of his jacket, bringing the denim and leather infused with cheap cologne and cigarettes up to your nose. It was Eddie. Soothing the beloved jacket against the back of your desk chair, a small paper had dropped from the nearly torn pocket. Reaching out, you picked up the torn page from Dustin Henderson’s yearbook.

Though, no other student could be seen. It was ripped haphazardly to only focus on your picture.

You.

Eddie Munson had now seen you, as you had now seen him.

Softly placing the photo back, you rummaged through your closet to retrieve another set of duvets and blankets, where you preciously placed them onto the floor of your bedroom. Your bed had now been stolen, but you weren’t complaining—that much, at least. You’d quietly taken another pillow from your bed, placing it onto your newfound cushion of the floor. There was a reason why you shoved this particular blanket into the closet, it made your skin itch uncomfortably, but you’d withstand the terrible material of the woven covers if it meant that Eddie could get the peace he needed.

Because if Eddie was okay, you’d be okay.

Because similarly to Eddie, who were you if not catering to the needs of others in order to keep sanity in your life. You just wanted stability. True stability.

Cuddling into your blankets, you heard the snores of the past out man next to you. You sighed. In the mere three days of knowing Eddie Munson, you accepted the emotional labor that came with his damaged self. But that was okay. Because Eddie Munson seemed ready to do the same for you. Accept you.

But how willing were you to tolerate the impulsivity of Eddie Munson who knew nothing of stability?

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | Again, there was an error in my tag list, which led me to removing it. Luckily, it’s been a couple days, so I believe most who wished to be tagged already read this chapter. My tag list will continue, I just simply had to remove it for this chapter in particular. I’m terribly sorry for any confusion.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #mean!eddie munson #the yearbook: club pictures

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emeritusemeritus · 3 months

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I didn’t want to be alone [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: I didn’t want to be alone.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established friendship but deliberately vague, can be romantic or not}. Platonic!Wayne Munson&Reader.

Timeline: Non-specified. There’s a brief mention of ‘trauma’ that I’d originally written as events from ST 1-3 but it could be anything. Insert your troubles here.

Summary: When things in your mind get bad, you know you always have a place to go.

Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, illusions of mental illness. Sadness/ depression. This is a comfort fic. Wayne looks after us. Wayne Munson being the father figure we all need.

Word count: 3.4k

This is a complete comfort fic that I wrote to try and make myself feel better, a concept I came up with to try and get to sleep one night. My toddler isn’t sleeping, I haven’t slept properly for days and I’m losing my mind- keep me in your thoughts as I drown in coffee.

The last thing Wayne Munson expected to see when he pulled up to his trailer at 4am after his monthly half shift was your car; he especially didn't expect to see you sat stationary within the car, staring blankly up towards the dark trailer home. He frowns as he cuts the engine to his beat up truck, grabs his trusty brown thermos and metal lunchbox before he climbs out of the truck. When his eyes fix on you again, he sees that you haven't moved even an inch, not even acknowledging his approach. Your chin rests on your arm slung over the wheel, body slumped down in your seat with a vacant expression on your face, eyes heavy and pained. He can tell immediately that something isn't right with you, your body language completely thrown off as you stare into the void, unaware of everything around you.

He'd seen you look like this only once before, but Eddie had mentioned in passing that you'd had 'episodes' one or two times before, something about trauma, something that had haunted you from a few years back. Wayne was a simple man and didn't pretend to know what any of that meant, nor would he intrude and ask you about it when you so clearly didn't want to open up about what was plaguing you. He figured better people with bigger brains than he would be the only people that could understand what you were going through, but he'd try his best to help you where he could.

Wayne knows better than to make you jump in your impaired state and so he tried to delicately walk over to your car, putting himself directly in your eye line so that you wouldn't be alarmed once you realised he was there. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to focus on him, flicking over at the slow movement in your peripheral vision. Your shock at seeing him makes his eyes pull tight together in a squint, fighting the urge to frown at your unusual behaviour.

He walks over to your car door and finally takes in your appearance, the crease lines in his face getting deeper as he frowns once again, seeing that you are in no way dressed appropriately for the bitter cold, wearing only a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized band shirt that he instantly recognises as his nephew's.

You wind the window down as Wayne leans in, careful to be gentle with you as he sees the glassy, pained look still overwhelming your face, even after you'd broken out of your trance.

"What're you doing here girl? Got your key don't ya?" He says, trying his hardest to keep his tone balanced and his voice gentle; not an easy feat for a self proclaimed gruff, southern born hick like Wayne.

Wayne cringes as he feels the low temperature inside your car, the cold drifting out from your rolled down window. Somehow the inside of your car was even colder than the crisp, early morning air outside. Only then did Wayne remember you complaining that the heat and the ac in your car had busted a couple of weeks ago, but you couldn't afford to get it fixed right away on account of your 'full time student and part time waitress' salary.

You stare at him for a lingering moment, not even making a single attempt to reply as you usually would, the only sign that you had heard him at all was a subtle twitch of your eye. You eventually turn to look away, averting your gaze from his concerned eyes to stare back towards the trailer which was pitch black inside with no sign of life.

"I didn't know what to do," you said quietly, your voice timid and weak as you fought to push out your thoughts. "I remembered what you said about coming over anytime I needed to not be alone, but then I remembered the date and that Eddie was away at his gig. Then I remembered you said that Eddie didn't even have to be here, when you gave me the spare key. I got in my car and drove here but then I got stuck, not able to go inside because I'd be a burden but I couldn't leave either."

Wayne was quiet at he listened intently to you, giving you the time you needed to explain, knowing how hard it must be for you to speak your thoughts out loud. He silently nods gently, knowing at least partially what you were feeling as he acknowledges your troubles. He thinks it strange how often you said 'remembered' in the sentence, knowing that your words sounded uncharacteristic but he assumes that it is just you voicing your thoughts as they appeared in your head. His heart breaks a little at hearing your sad words, knowing that you must have felt real bad to have jumped in your car and drove all the way out here without thought of a jacket.

"Let's get you inside, 'fore ya catch a damn cold," he says gently, wanting to get you into the warmth as he sees goose flesh spreading across your skin and the unmistakable bounce of your leg from your body fighting the cold. He expects to be met with more resistance than you offer as you simply nod and reach for the keys that are still in the ignition. He opens the door for you, juggling his belongings in his arms as he leads you up the concrete steps to the trailer and unlocks the door, offering a tiny smile of empathy at you as he steps aside, allowing you to enter first.

As you step in, you're immediately met with stagnant warm air from the trailer being shut up all day, retaining the last slithers of heat emitted by the old space heater Wayne must have had on before he went to work. The trailer smells like home to you and immediately offers a level of comfort that you could never get anywhere else. There's a lingering smell of cigarette smoke which hangs thick in the air, mixed with a hint of Eddie's cheap cologne and old spice, old coffee and the overwhelming scent of both Eddie and Wayne, their warm natural scents mixing to create the personalised blend of the Munson trailer.

You tentatively take a seat on the couch once offered by Wayne, who immediately sets to turning on a few lamps before boiling some water for a warm drink for you both, throwing down his lunchbox and thermos on the counter in the process. He grabs two mugs from the cabinet, but immediately changes his mind as he thinks of way to cheer you up. He walks past you to reach for one of his many display mugs, grabbing your favourite of the bunch and rinses it in the sink before setting the two mugs aside to make a drink. He begins to pull out the coffee but stops himself, knowing that the last thing you need is a blast of caffeine in your system and so he reached for the small box of tea that he kept in just for you, pulling out your preferred flavour as he makes the drinks.

He takes a look at you as he waits for the water to boil, finally seeing you in the light that he'd turned on as you entered. Your eyes look dark and sunken, dark purple circles formed underneath your once sparkly eyes, telling him that you hadn't slept a wink. Your hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, faint smudges of mascara were present under your eyes and overall you looked thoroughly exhausted.

When he walks over to you, he's delicate with his approach, offering the tea out to you with a gentle smile. He notices your eyes widening slightly once you spot the special mug and a small smile tugs at your lips which he's thankful for as it means your coming out of your dark place. You mumble a thank you as you cradle the warm Star Wars mug in your hands, the heat rolling through your cold and shivering body.

"You wanna talk about it?" He says quietly, taking a seat and bringing his own mug to his lips. He sees a frown form on your eyebrows before your eyes close and you shake your head no at his suggestion. He simply nods, respecting your decision and giving you the grace of not asking any follow up questions.

"I'm sorry," your little voice says after a few silent moments.

"Don't ever be sorry, you did the right thing by coming here darlin," Wayne replies sweetly, to which you reply with a kind and grateful smile. "You're welcome here night or day."

Neither of you speaks for a moment, though it's a comfortable shared silence rather than an awkward interlude.

"So how come you ain't with Eddie at his gig?" Wayne asks a few moments later, taking another sip of his coffee. Your eyes flash with angst again and he suddenly regrets asking as your face drops slightly, not realising that his question could trigger you.

"I had an exam, couldn't get out of it," you shrugged gently, not managing to lift your eyes up from their fixed point upon your mug, watching the steam rise from the hot tea inside.

"You do okay?" Wayne asks, feeling a little awkward at asking. Eddie had always been a handful, especially when it came to doing his homework and anything academic, and Wayne's questioning of how projects went or finals or whatever else had fallen on deaf ears many years ago.

You nodded gently in reply, a little apprehensive maybe, "yeah I think so, it was only after when things started to go bad."

Wayne knew immediately that you were referring to your episode earlier, and his heart ached more for the girl in front of him who seemed so broken down, the girl he had grown to care for like a daughter. You fell quiet again, staring into space looking so exhausted you could drop down where you sat.

"Tell ya what, why don't ya go lay down in Eddie's room for a while, take your tea with yer," Wayne suggests, leaning forward slightly as he talked, not quiet reaching out to you but feeling a little closer to do so. "I'll make us some grub once you wake up."

You immediately begin to weakly protest, already feeling like a burden but Wayne shuts it down quickly. "Ain't no different then having Eddie here, 'cept you got a better sense of hygiene and noise control," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. "I'll be right through here if you need anything, ain't sleeping yet and I ain't going anywhere." His voice was still gentle but his words held a level of insistence which meant you couldn't question him, knowing he was being entirely honest.

"Uncle Wayne, thank you," you smiled gently, standing up off the couch and making your way through to the familiar back room, carrying your mug, before closing the door.

Stepping into Eddie's room without him here felt a little odd, but the sight of the room alone was enough to comfort you even more. Cigarette smell lingered here too, mixed with the faint whiff of marijuana, Eddie's cheap cologne and a general boy smell which wasn't entirely unpleasant. His guitar, sweetheart, was missing off the wall, along with two of the three amps that were usually littered around on the limited floor space.

You placed your mug on the nightstand, beside the ashtray, and didn't hesitate to throw yourself down onto the bed, pulling the sheets up high so that you were essentially cocooned in them. The sheets smelt perfectly like Eddie. Bringing them up to your nose to scent him, you felt instantly calmer by the second.

You could hear the faint murmur of the tv in the lounge, knowing that Wayne would probably be watching the 5am news or a repeat of his favourite western, the Comancheros. The knowledge of him being right outside was enough to comfort you even more, knowing that you weren't alone anymore.

For the first time since your episode began, you felt like you could actually finally fall asleep; the comfy bed, the lingering scent of Eddie all around you and the soft comforter all equated to your relaxed, happy state. Your tired eyes closed on their own accord, suddenly overwhelmed by the heaviness that pulled at them and without any hesitation or conscious effort, you slipped into a deep sleep, putting the bad day behind you.

Only a few hours later, early in the morning when Eddie's van roared up the dirt road towards the trailer, music turned down only slightly from its usual blaring volume, until it came to a sharp stop right outside his trailer. He frowned when he saw not only your car but his uncles truck parked outside, not expecting either of you to be there when he got back.

He stepped into the trailer and immediately spotted his uncle lounging in his armchair, a western playing on the old tv, without any sign of you.

Eddie nods to his uncle in greeting, before opening his mouth to question your whereabouts until Wayne instantly brings his finger to his lips, attempting to silence the boy from speaking too loudly. He didn't say anything in the moment, merely pointing towards the closed door leading to Eddie's room, hoping that he'd catch what he was trying to say.

Eddie nods his head, frowning a moment later as he realised what must have happened and that he wasn't here to help.

"You're back early boy," Wayne states, reaching for the tv remote to mute it, reaching out to grab a cigarette from the pack before lighting it, watching his nephew do the same thing only moments behind him after placing down the guitar in it's carrier by the small table.

"Gig was cancelled, burst pipe, never even made it on stage," Eddie mumbled, clearly annoyed at the facts he was relaying.

"There's always next time son," Wayne replies, taking a drag of his cigarette, earning a gentle nod from his nephew. "She's asleep, told her to get down in your room."

At the mention of you, Eddie's eyes flicker to the closed door of his bedroom, a warmth filling his gut at the thought of you sleeping in his room, especially without him there. Though he hated the thought of you suffering alone, disliking the thought of it happening when he wasn't here to help a little too much, the fact that you sought out him and his home gave him a little possessive buzz.

"Thanks Wayne, for, yanno," he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the emotional weight in the conversation. Wayne understands, he always does and gives Eddie a nod that tells him everything, the look in his eyes conveying his affection for you, especially the way that it silently says 'I'd do it for you too'.

Eddie puts out his cigarette and with one last thankful look towards his uncle, creeps down the hall to his bedroom and slides open the door, trying desperately not to spook you.

It's dark in the room, the only light peeking through the window is from the street light a few meters away that shines rays of light over you thanks to his broken blinds.

He feels a little creepy watching you sleep but he can't resist, seeing you cocooned in his own sheets looking blissfully peaceful, the demons you carried not haunting your dreams. Your hair is spread across the pillow and there's a brief moment where he is genuinely excited that his sheets will smell like you the next night.

He doesn't fully undress, only throws off his shoes and the jeans that were still heavy and filled with ticket stubs and random change that he'd accumulated on the journey to the venue and then straight back. He's delicate as he climbs into bed beside you, praying he doesn't disturb you or worse, frighten you.

He sucks in a breath when he feels you move, no doubt sensing the presence behind you and for a moment he holds his breath, trying to stay completely still.

"Eddie?" You murmur sleepily, the hopefulness in your voice making his heart beat just a little harder at the sound.

"M'here princess," he says gently, pressing his hand delicately to your shoulder. He lets out a little noise of content when you turn over in bed and snuggle down into his chest, bringing your warmth with you. The pair of you cuddling wasn't entirely unheard of, but Eddie was certain it had never been this intimate before, not that he was complaining.

"Wanna talk?" He offers after a few moments of silence, sensing that your breathing hadn't returned to your peaceful sleep pattern. You shake your head on his chest and try to snuggle further down, secretly inhaling more of his scent as you sought comfort that only he could provide.

"How was your gig?" You mumbled, sleepiness still making you slur your words just a little, feeling as if speaking in full was too much effort.

"Got cancelled princess, s'why I'm back," he explains gently. His ringed hand has started to absently rub back and forth across your back and you wish he'd never stop doing it.

"What time is it?" You ask, sitting up just enough to look at him, though you could only really make out his outline in the darkness. You frown, suddenly realising that Eddie was back much, much earlier than you'd anticipated and his words of explanation slowly sunk in. "It got cancelled, why?"

Once again, Eddie feels like the grinch with his heart expanding in significant increments, feeling it grow and swell at your distraught tone. You actually cared that the gig was cancelled.

"Pipe burst," he says with a shrug, a much calmer reaction to the news than he'd had only a few hours ago when he'd gone ballistic and kicked the tyres of his van.

"I'm sorry Eddie, you were really excited." He smiles down at you, even if you can't see it. Suddenly feeling overwhelming affection for you. He shrugs again and pulls you closer, holding on to you just a little tighter.

"So, do you come here often without me? Think I might be developing a complex here princess." Even in the dark you can hear the smirk in his voice and you use your head to jab him just a little in the ribs at his insinuation.

"Better when you're here," you mumble, resting your head again against his soft body. "Just needed you."

Eddie bites back a smile, knowing that you would never dare say that in the light of day but somehow between the darkness and the late, or early, hour, everything said between you both seems like a secret, your own little world created where nothing is out of bounds.

"How did your exam go?" He asks, still slowly running his ringer fingers across your back.

"Sssh, too much talking," you say with a smile, not wanting to think about the day before. He understands, it was a Munson's best quality after all to know when talking wasn't beneficial; when being arrested, in an argument with your woman and just occasionally when the moment was so perfect no words would be good enough.

"Coffees on me in the morning," he says, his eyes closing as he feels your breathing even out again, your body sinking further into him as sleep begins to take over.

"Mmmm, sounds nice," you say lightly, the tiredness and proximity to sleep so clear in your voice that it makes Eddie smile out into the dark room.

"Donuts too," he adds, kissing the top of your head as it rests on his chest, feeling prouder than he'd ever felt before. You'd found comfort in him and in turn he'd found comfort in you too, both of you slowly sailing off to sleep surrounded by each other, the pains of the day before disappearing entirely.

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #eddie munson comfort fic #eddie munson taglist #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #wayne munson

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munsonsmixtapes · 1 month

Note

Could you do one where the f reader and Eddie Munson are friends and she’s Henderson’s sister. Plus sized and wearing big glasses. A book worm but with a bunch of ear piercings. They end up playing truth or dare and they end up sleeping together after and a confession of long hidden feelings?

Thank you so much for the request, lovely!!

Eddie x fem!plus size!reader

cw: MDNI 18+ smut, (p in v), brief mention of fatphobia

The sun shone into Eddie’s bedroom, giving you the perfect light to read your book. Your best friend, Eddie was laying on your stomach, playing his Game Boy, the only noise that could be heard throughout the room coming from the thing as a part of whatever game he was playing.

You looked down at him in admiration, loving the way his tongue was sticking out a bit, a cute little thing he did when he was focusing on something. Part of you wanted to tell you how you really felt about him, but you couldn’t risk ruining your friendship. You didn’t have many friends and you really couldn’t lose the best one you ever had.

Eddie turned to face you, his game being thrown to the side. You glanced at him, seeing the look of mischief of his face then pushed your glasses further up through bridge of your nose before turning back to your book, not in the mood for his games.

“Y/n,” he whined. “Pay attention to me.” He buried his face into your stomach and you moved your free hand to his hair, giving his head a little scratch, hoping that would help.

“I will once I finish this chapter.” Eddie couldn’t wait that long. He was growing bored of his game and needed something to else to do.

“How good can it be?” He scoffed and you just rolled your eyes.

“Really good.” Sasha and Wren were just about to duel and you had to know if they were going to put their differences aside and finally kiss.

“Let me see that.” He grabbed the book from you and read a few words before taking your bookmark to keep your place then set it aside. “Boring.” He feigned a yawn then snuggled into your shoulder.

“Oh no, you’re not going to interrupt my reading then fall asleep.” You pushed him off of you then sat up. Eddie then moved to sit in front of you, his eyes locking on yours.

“How about we play a game, then?”

“We can go to the arcade.” You didn’t like the idea of going anywhere, but maybe Eddie would win you a prize. That made it seem worth it.

“Or we can play something right here,” he smirked and you didn’t like what he was up to. The mischievous look appeared on his face again and you leaned away, not wanting got get dragged into whatever he was planning.

“We should play truth or dare.” That was worse than what you were expecting. You didn’t actually think that people played that game, that it was something that only happened in movies.

“What are you, twelve?” You scoffed. The game just seemed so juvenile whenever you had seen it play out.

“C’mon, y/n, let’s just play.” You thought for a second and didn’t see what it would hurt. It was just a little game.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Let’s play.”

“Okay, you get the first question.” You didn’t like that. It didn’t give you much time to think of anything even though a lot of things were coming to mind. A lot of inappropriate things you shouldn’t have been thinking about when it came to your best friend.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” That caught you off guard. You were expecting him to pick dare since he was always willing to do something crazy.

“Truth?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Just ask me a question, y/n,” he rolled his eyes. Nothing was coming to mind but your feelings for him and how badly you wanted him. You were feeling so pathetic.

“Who was your first kiss?” That seemed like a safe thing to ask even though you already knew the answer.

“Dana Stewart when I was thirteen.” You hated that you were jealous and wished you had a time machine to go back in time and take Dana’s place. Maybe then, you’d be Eddie’s girlfriend instead of being stuck in the friend zone.

Maybe it was because Dustin was your little brother and Eddie thought it would have been weird to date you because they were so close. Or maybe he just had no interest in you romantically whatsoever. That had to be it. If he was interested, he would have asked you out by now. And then you’d be snuggled up in his arms instead of playing this stupid game.

“My turn,” he smirked and this one seemed sweeter than the other one. “Truth or dare, sweetheart?” He let out a sigh as he leaned back onto the mattress.

“Truth,” you replied, curious as to what he was going to ask. Probably something ridiculous.

“Since we’re on the subject of kissing, how would you feel about kissing…me?” Your eyes widened and your brain short circuited at the words that come out of his mouth. You never thought the day would come, that it would only ever happen in your dreams.

Okay, so maybe Eddie had suggested this whole game just so he could kiss you because he had been too afraid to just go for it and plant one on you just because he wanted to. Your silence made him realize just how much of a line had crossed by even asking.

You shook your head, trying to get the words out of your head. You needed him to repeat himself in order to be sure that you were just imagining things.

“Sorry, what?” You asked and Eddie just chuckled, licking his lips before speaking again.

“I asked how you would feel about kissing me,” he repeated, leaning closer to you, his face only inches from yours. He wanted to kiss you? You never thought you’d see the day. You were sure that was only ever going to do that in your dreams.

“I think I’d pretty into it,” you nodded and Eddie fought a smile that was trying to come out on his face. He slowly leaned forward, pressing his hands to your cheeks, leaning forward even more, his lips ghosting over yours.

“This is okay, right? I’m not making you uncomfortable?” He whispered. You were always Eddie’s number one priority and he’d hate himself if he had ever made you feel uncomfortable or hurt you in any way. He loved you and he wanted to protect you, even if it was from himself.

He pushed some hair behind one of your ears, revealing your many piercings, more memories that you had made together. He had been there for you for every single one and he’d be there for you for many more.

“Not at all. Just kiss me, please.” Your words came out desperate and that made Eddie’s dick harder a little.

“Well, since you said please,” he smirked and finally placed his mouth on yours, his lips slotting between yours. They moved together in sync while your hands rested on his chest. The kiss was soft and sweet and nothing like you had imagined, considering the details he had given you about the girls he hooked up with, but you liked that you were getting that side of him.

Eddie pulled away before you were ready and pressed his forehead to yours, his brown doe eyes pouring into yours. His thumbs stroked your cheeks and a smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“Was that good enough for you?” He asked, even though it was very much not good enough for him. He had just a little taste and was already growing addicted to the feeling of your lips on his.

“I’m not sure, I think I need a bit more.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie’s lips were on yours again, this time rougher. This was what you had imagined; him taking whatever he wanted from you while you were there, pliant to his every touch.

His hands moved from your cheeks down to your waist, trying to pull you closer despite the fact that the both of you were sitting with your legs crossed. You pulled away and uncrossed your legs before climbing into Eddie’s lap, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your lips were on his once again and his tongue swiped along your bottom lip and you opened up just enough to let him slide it inside. It swirled around your own tongue and his hands slowly moved to the bottom of your shirt, wanting to move underneath it, but he was unsure.

“God,” he practically moaned. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“You have?” Your eyes widened at his confession.

“Of course I have,” he licked his lips again. “Been wanting to kiss you since I found that you love Lord of the Rings, doll.” That was over a year ago. He had wanted to kiss you that long and you had no idea? You wondered why he hadn’t just gone for it because you definitely would have let him.

“I guess I should tell you that I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time too.”

“Aww, l/n, do you have a crush on me?” He winked and you just blushed. “Oh my god, that’s so cute.” He laughed and you just covered your face with your hands.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Eddie grabbed onto your wrists and pulled your hands away. “Need to see your pretty face, doll. Sorry, I guess I should have told you that I have a crush on you too.” Your brain short circuited at that. All of your fantasies were actually coming true. The man of your dreams could actually be yours.

“You like me?” Your face lit up and Eddie thought it was the cutest thing.

“So much,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Like, you have no idea.” Another one.

“Does that mean you…wanna be my boyfriend.” Eddie just let out a laugh at that and you weren’t sure what that meant.

“Y/n, of course I want to be your boyfriend. In fact, I’d be honored.” His hands moved up and down your hips reassuringly.

“So does that mean that I’m your girlfriend?”

“Sure does,” he winked. “If you want to be.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anything else, Eds.” You threw your arms around him with so much force that he fell back onto the mattress, you landing on top of him.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart.” You had straddled him without even thinking and were now very aware of what it looked like you were trying to do.

“Oh, I’m planning on finishing,” you smirked before pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss, catching his top lip between your two. You licked into his mouth, swirling your tongue around his as your hands trailed down his stomach and up his shirt, wanting to touch any inch of skin you could find. It was soft and warm and you loved the way it felt underneath your hands.

“Can I remove this?” You asked, moving your hands back to the bottom of his shirt.

“Please do.” Eddie leaned forward and held his arms up so you could take his shirt off with ease and you let it fall to the floor before reaching for the bottom of the hoodie, but hesitated once you realized that Eddie was going to see your body.

The confidence that you had just a few seconds ago immediately disappeared when you thought about the fact that you weren’t skinny. Sure, Eddie knew that you were fat, but it was going to be very different seeing you naked.

You weren’t the usual kind of girl he slept with. You had seen the girls that he had left with at parties and most of them definitely didn’t look like you. There were a slim few that did, but that didn’t exactly make you feel better.

You had been with too many people that saw you as toy that they could use then throw away when they were done. The kind of people who would sleep with you just to make themselves seem inclusive. The kind of people who would only claim you in the bedroom but would swear you to secrecy as soon as you left because they were ashamed to let anyone know that they actually slept with a fat girl. And you were done with that bullshit.

But Eddie wasn’t like that, not in the slightest. He was sweet and caring and you knew he would never judge you for what your body looked like. Even if he didn’t like the way you looked, he would have at least been a gentleman about it.

You closed your eyes and slowly removed your hoodie and set it beside you, hearing nothing but a gasp come from Eddie’s lips as he caught sight of your body.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice low and raspy. Your eyes widened then formed into a glare, putting your hands on your hips.

“Excuse me,” you asked in a confused tone. That was definitely not what you were expecting to hear. You weren’t exactly sure what your reaction should have been considering no one had ever responded that way to seeing your body.

“Fuck,” he repeated, more emphasis this time. Eddie leaned up from the bed then looked you up and down, taking his time to admire every inch of you. He knew that you were beautiful, but seeing you with almost no clothing on made you even more so. He loved your curves and the stretch marks that he so desperately wanted to run his fingers over.

“Doll-” he cut himself off, trying to find the right words, everything he was going to say getting jumbled up in his brain. “You’re a knockout.”

“You’re just saying that.” He was just being nice, you were sure of it. That was just who he was. He was a gentleman and everything he was saying was just because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“No, no. You’re-fuck-you’re amazing.”

“Eddie, you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I may be a lot of things, sweetheart, but a liar isn’t one of them. And I’d be happy to show you just how fucking gorgeous I think you are.” As soon as the words left his mouth, you pushed him down on the bed, pinning him there as you pressed a bruising kiss to his lips.

“Then show me.” You pressed your lips to his again and his hand moved down to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down to your thighs. You got them down the rest of the way and they fell to the floor. Eddie’s hands went to your ass as you unbuttoned his pants before moving off of him so he had more ease removing them.

Once he had them off, he reached for a condom and set it aside and removed his underwear then grabbed the condom and removed it from the pocket and rolled it onto his dick.

Eddie pressed his lips to yours, his hands moving to your back as he slowly lowered you to the mattress. His pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin, making his way to your neck. He gave the spot a gentle peck, another one to your jaw.

“Gonna make some pretty sounds for me?” He asked in a whisper, his lips right by your ears.

“Mhm,” you nodded and he pulled back to look at you. He hooked his finger under your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

“Use your words,” he commanded and you couldn’t help but comply.

“Yes,” you nodded and he moved his lips back to your ear.

“That’s what I like to hear, princess,” he whispered before bringing your earlobe between his teeth, giving it the gentlest bite, causing you to let out a squeal.

He slowly moved himself down on top of you and took your hands in his and pressed a kiss to your lips before slowly trailing some back down your neck and to your shoulders. He found your first stretch mark and ran one of his fingers over it, hating that such a small mark made her feel so bad about yourself. If Eddie was being honest, he loved seeing them on people. It gave them character. He pressed a few kisses to the mark before moving on to her chest, moving his way to your other arm, pressing even more kisses to the other mark.

His lips moved further down your body until he got to her hips. He looked up at you and could see that your eyes were closed.

“Can I move these,” he asked, referring to your underwear and your eyes shot open as you nodded enthusiastically.

“Please do,” you urged and he moved them down just enough to where he could see the stretch marks across your stomach and at your hips. Those ones were more prominent than the others, more red.

“These are pretty,” he ran the fingers of both of his hands along the marks on your stomach, moving them down to your hips in a feather light touch.

“Really?”

“Beautiful,” he corrected, pressing a kiss to each one. He removed your underwear completely and let out a dramatic gasp at how wet you were.

“Sweetheart, is this all for me?”

“Well, it’s certainly not for me.”

“Well, I’m honored,” he grinned. “How about I reward you for being such a good girl today?” You liked that idea a lot and nodded eagerly.

He lined himself up with your pussy and grabbed onto your hips before pounded into you, causing you to let out a moan. “Oh, making your pretty sounds just like you promised, I see.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned as he continued, his movements rough and hard just like you liked it. “Right there, baby, yeah.”

Eddie kept going, pumping his cock in and out of your cunt as you let out the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard and he made some of his own at the pleasure he was experiencing. You liked the way he sounded and knew that his moans would live in your head forever and maybe if everything went well, you’d be able to hear them whenever you wanted.

“Look at you,” he continued to pound into you. “Taking my cock so well, baby girl.” He leaned down and pressed a filthy kiss to your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he did so, the thing roaming around as if he was looking for something as his hand moved to your tit, giving it a squeeze. He then began to massage your nipple with the pad of his thumb, just enough to make it hard, eliciting another moan from you. Once he got what he wanted, he leaned back up and pumped his dick in and out of you, the fastest and hardest he could.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, gripping at his sheets. “Shit, so good.” He took that as an invitation to continue to fuck you the same way he had been, loving how wild it was driving you.

“Got one more in you, sweetheart?” He asked, pausing to see what your response was.

“One more, baby. And make it your best.”

After one more big thrust and your loudest moan yet, Eddie pulled out and got rid of the condom before helping you clean yourself up, being nothing but complimentary to you the entire time, telling you how good you did and how beautiful you were. It made you feel nothing but warm inside, making you feel special for once.

The two of you got under the covers, not even bothering to change into pajamas and Eddie pulling you to him, one hand resting on your back and the other smoothing the hair at the back of your head. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead then pulled back to look at you, your eyes meeting his.

“I love you.” The words came out so suddenly, but he meant every single one of them. He really did love you and had for a long time. He felt it anytime he was around you, his heart filling up with warmth. Now that he had actually said it, he really believed it, finally accepting that that was what he had been feeling for you all along.

You froze at his words, your eyes widening once again. He loved you? Not only did he want to be your boyfriend, but he also loved you? Your dreams really had come true.

And you loved him too. You loved him with every single part of you and had wanted to tell him for so long, but the words always got stuck in your throat. Now that he had said them first, you definitely didn’t think it was hard anymore.

“I love you too, Eds,” you replied and he pulled you into a kiss, this one deeper and sweeter than the others, as if he was pouring all the love he had for into it. Once he pulled away, you buried your face into his neck, letting sleep claim you, wondering what you were going to dream about now since you finally had everything you could have ever wished for right there in your arms.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader

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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months

Text

Love Sucks II. The Interrogation

Vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!reader He’s just a gloomy, little guy.

The Masterlist 🩸

You scolded Eddie and Dustin immediately.

But Steve didn’t seem to mind, shrugging in that tired way that he did as he wandered off into the corner of the Wheeler’s kitchen with them. They’d set up an awful interpretation of what you deemed to be an interview room, the dining table pushed into the darker space where the light from the window didn’t reach, Nancy’s old desk lamp plugged in beside the microwave, the bulb shining harshly at the empty seat Steve was told to sit in.

He blinked as he did, tired eyes aggravated by the brightness but he just squinted and slumped in the chair, looking over at you with that longing way he did. You held up a coffee cup at him in question, smiling. He nodded, pleased.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Eddie began as the rest of the party milled around aimlessly.

Some were listening, others were bickering about what to watch on TV. Nancy was making popcorn and Robin was already asleep in the armchair beside Max.

Steve nodded, knowing it was only a matter of time before he got the big brotherly talk from Eddie about you. He readied himself for the questions about his interest in you, his intentions, how he planned to keep you safe from—

“Can you turn into a bat?” Dustin asked instead.

Steve frowned, confused.

“Dustin!” You scolded the younger boy from across the kitchen, teaspoon clattering into the mug, coffee grains spilling on Mrs Wheeler’s countertop. “What the hell?”

“What?” Dustin yelled back, arms held out in question. “It’s a serious question!”

Eddie was grinning, wide and a little manic, looking from Steve to you and back again. “Well?” He asked the boy.

“This is so rude. You cannot be for real, Eddie.” You went ignored, eye roll and all.

“Um, no?” Steve answered, squinting at the two through the light they were intent on keeping aimed at him.

“You sound unsure,” Eddie countered, dubious. He wasn’t allowed to smoke in the Wheeler’s house so he was chewing on the end of a bubblegum pink straw instead. He waved it at your boyfriend, suspicious. “Is that because you haven’t tried or aren’t allowed to say?”

Steve looked at you for help. “Why wouldn’t I be allowed to say?” He replied weakly, visibly concerned and confused.

Dustin shrugged before leaning across the table, bright eyed and grinning toothily. “Vampire overlord, maybe?”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. You were still making coffee, too far out of reach for him to hold your hand. Steve loved holding your hand, you were so much softer and warmer than him and sometimes you painted your fingernails a really pretty colour— someone cleared their throat. “Uh, I don’t think I’ve met him yet…”

Eddie and Dustin reacted immediately to this answer, heads bent and producing a notebook from seemingly nowhere, scribbling down notes in chicken scratch handwriting about their ‘findings.’

“… does he live around here?” Steve tried once more. “Is he my boss? Am I going to get in trouble?”

You soothed him with a hand over his hair, appearing at his back to place down his coffee in front of him, black and unsweetened in a mug as big as a soup bowl.. “Sorry, baby,” you offered, shaking your head at your two friends.

Steve loved it when you called him baby.

It went on like that for a while, Ghostbusters playing in the living room while Eddie and Dustin kept Steve at the table under the spotlight, drilling him about things you could only shake your head at.

“Can you fly?”

“No.”

More notes written, a worrying sentence jotting down about taking Steve somewhere high for experimentation.

“Can you run fast?”

“Uh, I have asthma…”

“What about jumping? Can you jump onto the roof?”

“I haven’t like, you know,, tried. Heights are scary.”

Sighs, heavy and disappointed, came from the kitchen. Steve was pouting, arms crossed.

“Can you read minds?”

“No.”

A brief pause, and then Dustin whispered to Eddie, eyes narrowed and still on Steve: “he’s lying.”

“I’m not!”

“Can you turn invisible?”

“No.”

“Do you sleep in a coffin?”

“What? No?”

Eddie paused, studying Steve. “Unconvinced,” he concluded. “Further investigation required.”

“How come you can come out in the daylight?”

“I don’t know, but that lamp is super bright, guys..”

Stumped, Dustin and Eddie finally relented. Ghostbusters was just finishing, the rest of the kids tired from too much sugar and arguing about who the best team member was.

“So you’re just a really shitty vampire, huh?” Eddie asked, his nose scrunched and sounding unaffected.

“Kinda boring, actually,” Dustin agreed.

They were both staring at Steve with a little disappointment, like two kids who’d finally found out Santa Claus wasn’t real. They sighed again and got up, raiding the Wheeler’s pantry for snacks while they left behind a sad and insecure vampire.

You scowled at the boys as you passed, punching Eddie on the arm a little harder than what would be considered good natured. You nudged your way between Steve and the table, folding yourself onto his lap and into his arms. He wound himself around you immediately, grumbling softly into the crook of your neck about bats and powers and being a poor excuse for a cryptid.

Later, over dinner, you stole Eddie’s last slice of pizza and scolded him for giving your boyfriend a vampire complex.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #vamp!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction

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fanficimagery · 2 years

Text

Miscommunication

You practically throw yourself at your best friend, only to be rejected.

Or were you?

Words: 4.1K Author’s Note: I, uh, I have nothing. I wrote this while having covid. It was the only thing my brain let me complete.

Walking down the side of the empty road, you hug your jacket a little tighter to your body and pray no wild animal leaps from the surrounding woods to attack you in such a vulnerable state. Normally you'd get a ride from your best friend, but you'd just made an absolute fool of yourself and the last thing you want is to see him right now. Or for the rest of the week for that matter.

Tripping and stumbling over gravel and twigs, you curse your lowered inhibitions and wonder how you're going to move on from this. As you're walking, you see lights appear on the road from behind you. They get bright and brighter, and your heart beats faster and faster.

Grimacing, you quickly wipe away your tears. "Please don't be-" An all too familiar blue Camaro slows to a stop next to you and you heave a sigh of relief before grimacing for a whole different reason. "Hargrove, out for a late-night drive?"

Leaning over his seats, Billy glances through the passenger window. "YN YLN? What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Oh, you know, just thought I'd go out for a stroll."

"In the middle of fuckin' nowhere?" He scoffs. He then reaches for the handle and opens the door. "Get in."

"It's fine. I can walk."

"Get in the goddamn car, YN."

You briefly weigh your options before deciding that you don't actually want to walk home in the dark. So, bending at the waist, you peer in through the opened door. "No funny business?"

"Believe it or not, princess, I know that no means no. And to not take advantage of a girl when she's clearly been crying." You wince and then quickly drop into his passenger seat, shutting the door right after. Billy throws his car into drive and takes off, raising the volume to the radio to keep the atmosphere of the car from becoming too uncomfortable. After a couple of minutes, he asks, "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," you mumble.

"Can't be that bad."

You scoff and keep your gaze straight ahead. "It's.. more embarrassing than anything."

"Well now you gotta tell me."

You sniffle some more and gulp down the forming lump in your throat. "Why? We're not exactly friends." You wince as you hear the words leave your mouth and see Billy's hands clench around the steering wheel. "Sorry, that sounded more bitchy out loud than it did in my head."

"Had this been any other day, you'd be right." He shrugs and then, "So come on. For one night only you can spill all the nitty gritty secrets and I'll never bring it up again."

"Yeah. Right."

He slowly smirks. "Fine. I won't use it as blackmail. I'll probably tease you with it, but not when others can hear."

You turn your head to look at him, slowly smiling and then chuckling. You hide your face behind your hands, groaning. "I know I'm gonna fuckin' regret this, but I need to say it out loud and talk about just how stupid I was."

"Come on, princess, lay it on me."

You groan again. "I, uh, I might have threw myself at my best friend."

Billy's quiet for a moment too long and you peek at him through your fingers. "That.. doesn't sound so bad."

"He rejected me."

He scoffs then. "I still don't see how you're the stupid one here. If it were me, I'd have been all over that."

You wrinkle your nose at his brief leer. "Yeah, well, Eddie's not like that. He said I was drunk and that I'd regret it."

"Eddie?" Billy frowns. You can see him wracking his brain for a face to pin to the name. You can practically see the lightbulb go off over his head when his eyes widen and his head whips in your direction. "Eddie Munson?!"

"You don't have to say his name like that." You pout and Billy cackles.

"Holy shit. Holy shit, princess! You threw yourself at Eddie fuckin' Munson and that freak rejected you?!"

"Don't call him that," you whine. "He's my best friend and-"

Billy laughs some more. "Is he getting into his own stash or something? Why the hell would he-"

"Because I'm not his type! I made an ass out of myself and now I've ruined everything with my best friend, and I can't even look at him anymore and.." You trail off, crying. "I just- I just wanna go home and crawl into bed and not resurface for the foreseeable future. So, if you can stop laughing at me, that'd be awesome."

Billy continues to chuckle as he drives. "Look, I'm sure it's not as bad as you're making it out to be." You scoff and wipe the tears from your face. "You said that he said you were drunk, and he thought you'd regret it?" You frown, hesitantly nodding. "Well then there you go. I'm not a fan of the guy, but he obviously did the right thing not taking advantage of you in this state."

"But I'm not that drunk!"

"Aren't you?" He muses, smirking as he glances at you yet again. "If you were sober or even a bit buzzed, would you be spilling all this girly shit to me? Me who's attempted to take you out multiple times only to be shot down?" You pout at him and sink further into the seat. "That's what I thought. Now pull it together and tell me where you live."

As you glance out the window to take in your surroundings, you say, "Keep driving until you hit Lawrence Street. I'm like the third house down on the right." Billy hums his acknowledgment and then all too soon he's turning down your street. But as you squint your eyes in the darkness, your eyes widen and you throw yourself down onto the floorboard. "Don't stop! Keep driving!"

"What the hell are you doing? Get off the floor."

"No, no, no. That's Eddie's van in front of my house. I don't want to see him."

"What the hell do you want me to do then?"

You watch as Billy glances out his window, smirking at something. "Just.. drop me off around the corner or something. I'll jump fences if I have to until I get to my backyard." Billy goes quiet and you watch as he turns, and then makes another turn. Slowly, you climb back into your seat. "Uh, where are you going?"

"My place."

"Hargrove," you groan.

"I'm still being a decent person," he muses. "Dad took his wife on a little getaway, so it's just me and Maxine. You're good."

"You promise?"

Billy glances at you then, his expression softening just a fraction as he takes in just how small you look in his passenger seat. "Sure, Princess. I promise."

The drive to Billy's house is a few minutes longer and then he's pulling into his driveway. You get out of his car on shaky legs, hugging your jacket tight around you once again. Following him inside, you wince as he shouts for his stepsister, only to get no response in return.

"Guess she's gonna be out for the night."

"Mhmm." Billy surprises you with a change of clothes- a crop top of his that fits you almost like a normal shirt and a pair of sleep pants. He tries to offer sharing his bed, but you wrinkle your nose at him. "Nope. The floor is fine. I'm not sleeping in jizz central."

He laughs, but shrugs. He wasn't going to manhandle you into his bed if you didn't want to be there. Instead, he grabs up all the spare blankets and pillows he can find and lets you make a nest on his floor. He disappears for a brief moment before coming back with tylenol and a glass of water. You eagerly drink it all down, setting the glass on his bedside table and then crawling underneath one of the blankets.

As soon as the lights are out, your eyes start to take longer and longer to reopen.

"Hey Billy?" You sleepily mumble.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. This was actually pretty decent of you."

He huffs. "Go to sleep, YN."

"M'kay."

The following afternoon you're sitting at Hargrove's breakfast table, elbows on the tabletop and head resting in your hands. Your stomach's rolling, your head is pounding, and the embarrassment still lingers.

You remember everything from watching Eddie be his rambunctious self at Steve's impromptu party, to having a couple drinks for liquid courage and being talked up by Robin, to finally just grabbing your best friend by the back of his neck and kissing him. For a moment he seemed to be into it, but then he pushed away and your heart plummeted.

Tears of embarrassment had stung your eyes as Eddie explained that you were drunk and didn't know what you wanted. But you did- you knew exactly who and what you wanted, but he merely flashed you a sad smile and refused to believe you. So when he told you to stay put while he went to grab his jacket so he could drive you home, you disappeared out Steve's backyard gate even as Robin tried to call you back.

The front door to the house opens and your head shoots up, eyes wide with panic. The door shuts and then the person who'd just entered comes into view.

Max freezes, staring at you before she looks you up and down. Her shock quickly turns into disgust. "Please tell me you didn't."

"I-I didn't!" You quickly stand, clutching at the waistband of the sleep pants to keep them in place. "I slept on the floor."

She scoffs. "Yeah. Right." Her eyes roll and your chest aches with hurt. "I know Billy, and you weren't exactly sober last night, YN."

"I was sober enough to know exactly what I was doing, Max."

"Were you?" Her eyebrow arches at you. "Is that why you threw yourself at Munson and then Billy? I guess the second time was the charm, huh."

Her words sting and immediately you feel your eyes prickle with tears of frustration. Her expression softens as she realizes what she's just said, but you shake your head at her when she opens her mouth again. "Fuck this."

Turning around, you march back to Billy's room and strip out of his sleep pants in order to pull your jeans back on. As you're debating whether or not you want to slip back into your own shirt, you see Max lean into the doorway to peer into the room.

Keeping Billy's crop top, you pull on your leather jacket. The bathroom door opens, Max scrambles to the other side of the door, and then..

"What's going on?"

You glance up at Billy standing there in a pair of basketball shorts and towel draped around his neck as water droplets dribble down his bare chest. Max rolls her eyes at him and you hardly bat an eye at him as you scoop up your shirt and shoes. "I, uh, I'm gonna go. Thanks for the ride and place to crash. You're not a total neanderthal like I thought you were, Hargrove."

He scoffs. "Why are you crying?"

"I-"

"I just remembered what an idiot I made of myself last night," you say, cutting off Max when she suddenly turns guilty looking. You meet her gaze and subtly shake your head before looking at Billy once more. "Thanks again. I'll, uh, I'll see you around."

You squeeze between the step-siblings, ignoring both their calls of your name as you flee their home. Outside, the tears come faster. With your shoes dangling from one hand and your shirt clutched in the other, you hurry in the direction of your home so you can hide away.

The weekend comes and goes, and you're grateful that your parents were off on a business trip so you could mope in peace. The doors remained locked, the curtains remained pulled tight, and you ignored every knock on the door or phone call that had your friends pleading on the answering machine to pick up.

But Monday comes around far too quickly for your liking and you find yourself dragging your feet into work at Family Video. Steve perks up from behind the front counter, but you merely let your gaze drag over him before heading straight to the staff room to clock in.

When you take your place behind the front counter, you immediately get to work sorting the returned tapes and sit on the floor where the small TV and VCR are hidden so you can mark down who didn't rewind their tapes.

"Well you're alive and well. That's nice to know."

"Mhm. Haven't kicked the bucket quite yet, Harrington, now get back to work."

"Fine. But we're talking about whatever the hell happened Friday night on break."

"Hmm. I would rather not."

"YN.."

"Steve." You sigh and look up over your shoulder at him. "Can you not do this? We're at work and I'd rather forget the most embarrassing night of my life. Thanks."

"Embarrassing because you threw yourself at Munson or embarrassing because you slept with Hargrove?"

Your eyes widen and then anger blazes across your features. "Fuck you." You get up from your place on the floor and march back towards the staff room.

"Shit. Shit, YN, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." Steve chases after you. "Max feels really bad about that misunderstanding, by the way."

"If she felt bad about it then why did she tell all of you? Clearly nothing happened," you spit at him in anger, "but you've all made up your mind already, haven't you?"

Steve watches you grab your timecard from the wall, followed by a pen. "W-What are you doing?"

You scribble two words on the timecard before tossing the pen aside, strip out of your Family Video vest, and then walk over to Steve while slapping the card against his chest. "I quit."

Steve gapes as you walk out the staff door, marching through the store as you exit out the front entrance.

When you get home, you kick off your shoes on your way upstairs and crawl into bed. The moment you're under the covers and your head hits the pillows, the tears come. You cry over the fact that two of your friends, maybe more, think you slept with Billy Hargrove and cry because you're now out of a job.

You cry and cry, not knowing when you fell asleep.

You don't know how long you've been asleep when you feel your mattress dip and you peel open your eyes with a quiet groan. When your gaze focuses, you see Robin sheepishly sitting on the edge of your bed.

"Hey." She faintly smiles at you. "Steve called a code red." At the mention of his name, your bottom lip wobbles and your eyes fill with tears yet again. "Aw crap. Please don't cry. I don't do good with crying people."

It takes you a few moments to get yourself under a semblance of control. "Does everyone else *sniffle* think I'm a slut too?" You cry.

"No one thinks you're a slut, YN."

"Steve and Max do," you say over a hiccup. "They think I slept with Billy, but Robin.. I wouldn't. You know I've been in love with Eddie since I was sixteen."

There's a sharp inhale of breath behind you, Robin's eyes widen before they dart in that direction and your heart lodges itself in your throat.

"You've been in love with me since we were sixteen?"

"I'm, uh, I'm gonna go," Robin blurts. She offers you a tight smile before quickly standing. "Have fun. Figure your shit out and be safe!"

As Robin flees your bedroom, you turn on your side and curl in on yourself. You can hear the jingle of the chain hanging from Eddie's belt loops and you turn your head so your face is hidden in the plushness of your pillow.

"Hey. Come on now. It's just me, sweetheart." Your mattress jostles and your breath hitches. "Will you please look at me?"

"I don't wanna."

"YN."

A whine gets stuck at the back of your throat and you slowly turn your head so you can see Eddie. He smiles big from where he's crouched on the side of your bed. "There you are."

"I wasn't drunk," you mumble.

"What?"

"I wasn't drunk," you say again. "Friday night," you then clarify. "I knew what I was doing when I kissed you and I'm really sorry I made you uncomfortable."

Eddie's smile falters. "What makes you think I was uncomfortable?"

"You rejected me, Eds! I'm pretty sure that-"

"Baby," he suddenly coos and your heart fuckin' aches at the term of endearment. He crosses his arms atop your bed, setting his chin atop them as he angles his head to get a better look at you. "I was nowhere near uncomfortable. I thought you were wasted and that you'd regret the kiss come morning," he clarifies for you. "I couldn't bear the thought of finally getting the girl of my dreams only to lose her when she realized what a mistake she'd made while under the influence."

His words hang in the air for a moment and it takes your brain a minute longer to process it all. Then when the silence is borderline awkward, you say, "I could never regret anything involving you. You're my best friend and I-"

"Have been in love with me since you were sixteen?" He lightly teases. Your heart beats faster and faster, and he smirks. "Will it make you feel any better if I admit I've been in love with you just as long?"

"W-What?"

"S'true. Ask Wayne," he says. "He's called me a dumbass for years for not telling you." You giggle and Eddie practically beams. "So what do you say to a redo? Because I haven't stopped thinking about Friday night and I-"

You lurch forward, holding your weight on one elbow as you press your lips against Eddie's. He chuckles against your mouth before getting with the program, cupping the side of your head with one hand and molding his lips against yours.

For a first kiss it's very chaste, but absolutely perfect. Though you've been in love with Eddie for years, there's absolutely no rush whatsoever and you want to savor every milestone with him.

Eddie pecks your lips once and then twice as he slowly pulls back, resting his forehead against yours while swiping his thumb along your cheekbone. "I've been wanting to do that for years."

"Mhm. Same." You lean in and kiss his lips one last time. "And I'm all for exploring each other and all that to catch up on lost time, but all this stupid crying has exhausted me. So either get in bed or go beat up Steve for me for making me have to look for another job."

Eddie chuckles as he stands, slipping out of his leather jacket and jean vest, then slipping off his sneakers. "Nah. Don't worry about it, sweetheart. Steve covered for you at work and got you a new time card. You still have a job at Family Video."

"Oh. Okay then."

As he climbs into bed, under your covers, you wait until he's mostly settled before moving his arm so you could cuddle up to him. With your head resting in the crook of his arm where his arm meets his shoulder, you lay your arm across his abdomen and hike your knee over his thigh. Eddie chuckles. "Comfortable?"

"Getting there." You move around a bit more and then once you're finally settled, you exhale a little too loudly. Eddie squeezes you tighter against him, one arm around your back while your other hand rests on your knee. "Is this real?" You ask. "Like you're not just doing this because you're afraid to hurt my feelings?"

"I am one hundred and ten percent here for this, sweetheart," Eddie says. "Now that I know I can have this and more? Pft. You're never getting rid of me." You laugh softly and feel his lips against your forehead. "Now get some rest. We can pick up the fun stuff later."

You fall asleep with a smile on your lips and Eddie brushing his fingers along the skin of your arm.

As it turns out, dating Eddie is a lot like just being friends with Eddie. The only difference now is that he's less careful with his touches and has no problem staking his claim out in public. You were never a fan of pda, but with Eddie? You like it. You like it a lot.

Especially if it grosses out Steve who you'd yet to fully forgive for his sleeping with Billy comment. Max you could forgive because she was used to seeing Billy sleeping with a new girl every weekend and she realized her mistake when she saw all the bedding on the floor where you had actually slept. But Steve? Steve heard the story and still had the audacity to throw it out there that you'd slept with his arch nemesis and that really hurt.

But it's already been a week so you figure you'll let up and put Harrington out of his misery within the next couple of days.

Walking out of the festival Hawkins had put on for the weekend, Eddie's arm is draped around your shoulders while you're laughing and trying to eat the rest of your cotton candy without him leaning down to bite it off the cone in your hands.

"Well isn't this a precious sight."

You've yet to run into anyone brave enough to speak out about you and Eddie, so the words catch you off guard with the tone they're used with. But when you see who had spoken, you relax with a soft exhale. "Hey Hargrove." You nod at him and his date for the evening- his date who's frowning as she glances between you and Billy. You roll your eyes, feeling a little catty. "Are you actually showing this one off to the public before adding another notch to the bedpost?"

The girl gasps, but Billy merely smirks at you. "Nice to know you're still a bitch even when you're getting laid on the regular." Eddie tenses at your side, but you merely laugh at the mean words. Your laughter makes Billy chuckle and you smile genuinely when you see the shift in his demeanor. He glances at Eddie, smirk dimming. "You ever make her cry again, Munson, and I'll knock your teeth in. Got it?"

Eddie isn't given a chance to respond as Billy takes his date's hand and practically drags her towards the festival. As you and Eddie turn to watch them walk off, he looks down at you and shakes his head. "Jesus Christ, sweetheart. One night with Hargrove and he's turned into a guard dog."

You grin sheepishly. "Look at this way. If I ever run into trouble, you got a real hardass in your corner to help you kick some ass."

"I thought that's what Steve was for?"

You snort. "Have you seen Steve's fight record? Steve's not the fighting type, babe."

"Eh. True." Eddie's arm ends up around your shoulders yet again and the two of you head off towards his van. "Where to now, sweetheart? My place or yours?"

"I don't care. As long as there's a shower and some comfortable clothes for me, I could go to either place. I'm in the mood for some cuddles."

"Mmm. I like the way you think." Eddie opens the passenger door for you, waiting until you've hopped in to press in closer and pull you down into a kiss. He hums against your mouth, tongue licking up the sugar from your lips. "I think we'll go back to mine. Your parents are home and they always ruin our fun."

Giggling, you agree and then pull the door closed as Eddie jogs around the front of his van.

As you watch him go, your heart swells with even more affection for the boy who'd stolen your heart long ago. And as he smiles at you through the windshield window, eyes crinkled at the corners, you have a feeling that this will be one person who will never intentionally make you cry.

And if he does, well you can always take Hargrove up on his offer to punch his teeth in.

But until that day, you're gonna spend your days catching up on lost time with the guy of your dreams.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #billy hargrove #max mayfield #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4

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plussizeficchick · 7 months

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Lovers Rock | Eddie Munson x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Eddie really likes reader, reader really likes Eddie, will they, won’t they? Loosely based on the TV Girl song, brief misunderstandings, brief mentions of masturbation, suggestive undertones. (Had this in the drafts for a while.)

Eddie had never felt more jealous of Steve than he did right now.

He had you, a cute, chunky little bunny practically hanging off of his arm and couldn’t be asked to give you a shred of attention?

Not that you seem particularly bothered, you’re too busy looking around. For what, he doesn’t know, but you somehow make just standing there sexy.

Eddie had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. He’s always had a thing for plump girls and you ticked all his boxes. You liked DnD, you didn’t judge his music taste even if some weren’t your favorite. And you were hot as fuck.

He remembers the first time he jacked off to the thought of you. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week, and it didn’t help that for the past few months, you seemed to have put more of an effort in your appearance. (i.e. Eddie’s never seen you show so much skin and he’s fighting the urge to paint every inch in his cum.)

Nevertheless, he makes his way over to you both and he feels his heart skip when your eyes light up at the sight of him. “Hey, Munson.” You beam at him, and just like that, you made coming to this shitty party worthwhile. He smirks at you before pulling you into a hug, lips kissing your ear as he whispers, “Good to see you again, princess.” You feel a shiver run down your spine, his words making their way to your core. You’d had a few drinks and shared a joint with Steve on your way here so you were feeling nice and loose.

You shift your grip from Steve’s arm to Eddie’s, effectively trapping him in your ironclad grip. “Wanna get outta here, this shit sucks.” You mutter into his ear. “What about Steve?” You shrug off his concerns, eager to spend time alone with him. “We got a ride here, plus he said he might stay tonight.” Eddie nods in understanding before guiding you both out of the party. You make it to his van and after a few tries, you’re both out of there.

— —

Eddie put on his and your favorite mix, you both screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs. After a while, Eddie stops and just stares at you though, taking you in. It’s rare he gets to see you so carefree and the sight just makes him fall in love with you all the more.

Why did you have to be into Steve?

He’d never burden you with his feelings, but fuck there were some times it became too much to bear. Times he wanted to just say “fuck it” and tell you how he felt, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you, and that he’d rather suffer in silence than never have you at all.

You were stuck though.

Steve swore up and down that Eddie was into you and honestly, you thought so too. It was why you had put so much more effort into your appearance. Wearing shorter skirts, lower cut tops. Jeans that hugged the curve of your ass, blouses that showed the cute pudge of your tummy. You thought you were being flirty, always asking to listen to his music, touching his arm at any given chance, you were honestly doing your best here. You figured that this would be your best opportunity to just be upfront with him. So when you pulled into his uncle’s trailer park, you decided to lay it all out.

“Eddie, do you like me?” He looks at you confused as he turns off the engine. “What kind of question is that? Of course I like you. You’re one of my closest friends.” He looks at you with sincerity. You’d think it was sweet if that was what you wanted to hear. “Why are you asking that?” Eddie questions. You shake your head, turning in your seat to face him. “It’s just, I like you a lot Eddie and Steve said you might have a crush on me? I don’t know, maybe he was mistaken-” You’re cut off by Eddie abruptly grabbing your hands, his face almost surprised. “I did- I do! I just, I thought you were into Steve so…” He trails off at the sound of your chuckling. He feels his stomach drop at the sound and is about to pull away when he feels you holding on to him.

“Sorry,” You giggle, wiping a fake tear from your eye at the thought. “It’s just, what ever gave you that idea?” You ask. He looks sheepish as he relays his reasoning, “Well I noticed you kind of started dressing up more recently and you hang around us a lot more often than before. So I just thought…” He trails off again. You feel a snicker but hold back as you hear Eddie sigh in frustration. “Sorry for laughing, it’s just, I thought I was being super obvious with my feelings for you, but now I see it was having the opposite effect.” You sigh. Eddie looks at you, confusion written all over his face. “I was doing all of that for you. I was hoping that it’d push you to ask me out, but instead it just made you think I want… Steve.” You shudder in disgust. It coaxes a laugh out of Eddie and you’re sure you’d do anything to keep that smile on his face.

“So you’re saying, you’re into me?” He asks for clarification. You nod, a sweet smile making its way to your chubby cheeks. “And you’re into me?” You mimic. He nods before cupping your face with both hands. He looks you in the eyes, a silent question and you answer by leaning in, pressing your plump lips against his. It’s a sweet, clumsy first kiss, lips molding into each other. You feel the coldness of his rings against your warm cheeks and it somehow makes the kiss feel even better.

You part after the need for air becomes necessary, resting your foreheads against each other. “Thank God we sorted that out. I thought I’d have to walk around in nothing but a Hellfire club shirt before you’d say anything.” You chuckle at the thought. But Eddie starts to picture it and he’s not laughing.

“Hey, um, d’ya think I could see that right now?”

#x chubby reader #chubby reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #x black reader #stranger things x chubby reader #stranger things x reader #x reader #stranger things x black!reader

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deathbecomesthem · 3 months

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Gone, Baby, Gone

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 2.2K

Minors DNI - +18 ONLY on this blog

Contains smut with someone that has a vagina. A bit of Steve Harrington slander. Eddie decides to bust a myth.

---

Eddie hears everything. It’s a remarkable thing that you’ve never gotten used to. The other guys you’ve been with had selective hearing, when you were with your friends, they’d tune it out. But not Eddie. He can be fully engaged in a conversation with Steve and still hear exactly what you and Nancy are talking about.

You’re feeling loose tonight, the wine went straight to your head. You and Nancy are sitting on the floor of Steve’s living room, your heads together while Eddie and Jonathan sit on the couch behind the two of you and pass the bong back and forth. Nancy is tipsier than you are, and she has no control over her loose lips. It’s fun, you love it when she gets like this, it’s so rare to see her act her age and be able to chill.

“You know, before Jon I never-” Nancy looks behind her to make sure the boys are occupied before continuing, “I never had an orgasm.”

You snort into your glass of wine while you take a sip, “Oh no.” You lower your voice and bring your face even closer to Nancy’s, “Not even with Steven?”

Nancy shakes her head and puts her hands on your shoulders. Her forehead is pressed against yours, “But Jon, it’s unbelievable,” Nancy brings her lips to your ear before saying, “I thought the g-spot was a myth, but oh my god. It’s definitely not.”

You can’t help it, you gasp out a laugh at the serious way Nancy is looking directly into your eyes and divulging this important secret information. You look back and ensure that the boys are still occupied before whispering back to Nancy, your head close to hers, “I think it’s a myth, at least for me. I mean, it feels good, but I’ve never felt any fireworks.”

As soon as you finish talking, you feel a hand on the back of your neck. A thumb rubbing against your spine. Eddie. Nancy is already distracted by Robin calling her name from the kitchen, and you’re left there alone, while Eddie’s fingers run along the vertebrae in your neck, never diverting his attention from his conversation with Jonathan.

The ride home is silent. You’re embarrassed. You’re afraid Eddie’s embarrassed. You shouldn’t have said that, it was too personal. The two of you are so new, it’s only been a couple of weeks since you started seeing each other, and a feeling of dread sits deep in your gut. You find your mouth opening to say something, and then closing. Over and over. And Eddie’s not helping. His hands are gripped firmly to the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road in front of him. No fingers wandering to your knee to play with the frayed fabric of your jeans.

You’re surprised when he takes a left instead of a right on Main Street. The plan was that you’d be spending the night at his place, and now it appears to be that he’s taking you back to your apartment. You say nothing, and let the silence swallow you. In those brief minutes between the light at the center of town, and the entrance to your apartment building, you feel more alone than you’ve ever felt in the presence of Eddie. When he pulls into a spot across the parking lot from your front door, he puts the van in park and turns off the ignition.

“Wayne’s coming home in a few hours, I thought it’d be better to stay here tonight, I hope that’s ok.” Eddie doesn’t turn to look at you until he’s done speaking, and you see it. His eyes are dark and hungry, he looks like the big bad wolf ready to eat you alive. Your pulse picks up, the air in the cabin of his van is thick.

“Uh, sure. You want to stay here tonight?” You can’t stop the tremble in your voice, you’re trying to not let on that you notice the way he’s looking at your mouth while you speak. “I can’t guarantee that Mr. Simpson won’t wake us up when he gets up for work at 4.” Your middle-aged downstairs neighbor is loud when he gets up in the morning, something that’s been driving you to stay at the trailer most nights since you and Eddie started sleeping together a few weeks ago.

Eddie nods and mutters under his breath as he gets out of the car, “We won’t be sleeping anyway.”

Eddie puts his arm around your shoulder and holds you close to him while the two of you make your way to the door of your apartment. He smells like weed and leather, and your head feels like it’s full of helium. You’re afraid you might float away, but he’s got you. His fingers feeling the exposed skin of your waist keep you firmly in the parking lot with him. He’s grounding you. He’s holding you here. He’s the only thing in the world right now, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

You move up the stairs still being held in Eddie’s arm. He’s not letting you go until the two of you are inside your place, and he’s taking off his jacket. You can feel his eyes on you as you untie your sneakers and put your jacket on the coat rack. You’re along for the ride at this point, and excited to find out what’s happening inside of his head. He can set the pace tonight. Your body is screaming for it. You want him to do whatever it is that’s got him hard under the denim of his jeans. You see it now, and you can’t believe you didn’t notice on the ride over.

“You thirsty or hungry?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer, “Go grab a couple of glasses of water and meet me in the bedroom.” You watch him walk back towards the end of the short hallway in front of you while you digest his words. You’re happy to oblige, and find yourself robotically moving into your kitchen to fill up two glasses of water before padding your way back to meet him in your bedroom.

Eddie is already in his boxers when you use your hip to push open the halfway closed door. He’s setting his rings on the bedside table, and you think, God, he’s so beautiful. His hair is brushing against his shoulders, and you see the black ink dancing across his pale skin under the low light of the desk lamp next to your bed. You feel the familiar ache you feel every time you see him like this, only now it’s accompanied by a tingle at the top of your scalp and at the tips of your toes and fingers.

“Sweetheart, set those down. I want you to get undressed and get in the bed please.” His dark eyes are on you again, “I wanna show you that it’s not a myth, and I don’t care if it takes all night.”

Your mouth opens to speak, and closes again. Your legs are jelly, but you have no choice but to trust them. You set the water down on the table next to him before giving him a kiss on his shoulder to tell him that this is good. This is what you want. You keep your eyes fixed on his while you take off each item of clothing. Eddie’s breathing is steady, but heavy while he scans your body. He follows your hands as you unbutton your jeans and unhook your bra. You get in the bed and push the blankets to the side so that he can see you while he climbs in next to you.

“Tell me everything you feel, can you do that?” Eddie whispers against your ear before taking your earlobe between his teeth.

“Yes. I can do that.” You answer with a gasp. Your legs rub together at the knees, an involuntary soothing motion while his fingers run from your neck to your hip, missing your nipple on the way. A teasing touch that makes you ache.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, do you know that?” Eddie’s mouth is on your neck now, he’s speaking directly into the skin while the tips of his fingers dance across the hair of your mound. “And you’re so good. So, amazing. You deserve to feel so good, Sweetheart. I’m gonna make you feel so good. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Ok. I trust you, Ed. I want you to make me feel good.” You don’t recognize your own voice, it’s placid and quiet, ready for him.

“Good Sweetheart. You’re so perfect, all the time. Do you think you can make them nice and wet for me?” Eddie’s voice is everywhere. He’s in your head. He’s all around your body. It’s the only sound you can hear. You feel the rough calluses of his fingertips against your lips, and you open to take them in. All of them, letting the spit dribble from the side of your lips while you feel every ridge of the tips of each finger. “Mmmm, your mouth is so sweet.”

Your hips are rocking already, even with Eddie’s body sitting next to you. It’s lifting to find nothing to touch, until you feel his wet fingers spreading the lips of your cunt. Opening you up. You find yourself planting your legs against the mattress and spreading them wide for him while he brushes against your clit and dips down to feel the way your wetness is gathering in answer to his voice.

“Oh, look at her, she’s ready. How about you, Sweetheart, do you think you’re ready for me?” Eddie’s at your chest now, you didn’t notice him move away from your neck. His words are being breathed against the peak of your nipple.

“Please, Eddie. Please.” Your answer is a cry, pathetic, but his answer to it is to put his perfect lips against that soft peak at your chest and suck. His warm tongue flicks at it, tastes it. And it responds by tightening even harder due to his efforts.

Those fingers, devilish and clever, are breaching your aching hole. Circling gently before you feel one push inside of you. Your hips continue to rock, it’s out of your control. It feels good to have him inside of you, any of him. And then you hear the sound of a pop, his mouth releasing your nipple from his mouth.

“Words, Baby. Tell me if it’s good.” Eddie’s voice brings you back.

“It feels real nice, Eddie.” Your voice is breathy, and he hums against your chest. He rests his head there before adding another finger. “Oh, mmm. Yeah, that’s -” you give a little cry of discomfort, “too deep, Ed.” Eddie hums again and changes the way his fingers are moving.

It’s then that you feel it. It's deep inside of you, a place you’ve never been able to touch. Eddie has the right angle, his fingers are just right. He’s touching that spot, and you can almost feel the ridges of his fingertips in the same way your tongue could. And then he adds a third finger.

“How are we feeling about this?” Eddie's lips are on your nipple again, and you want to answer him. You really want to tell him that you’ve never felt like this before. That’s he’s touching a part of you that no one has ever been able to reach before. But the words are gone, your mind doesn’t have them.

Your hips move to meet his hand, and that’s the answer he’s looking for. His thumb, that beautiful digit that is so brilliant, begins to move against your hard nub. It circles it while his fingers work against that spot inside of you. It’s a symphony of pleasure, and Eddie knows the score.

You hear his words circling around you, “Oh, look at you. You’re feeling so good, aren’t you? Oh my god, you’re so hot. Fuck me. Baby, baby, baby, look at you. Are you gonna cum? Oh, you’re gonna give me the prettiest orgasm, aren’t you? You’re incredible.”

You hear the noises your body is making against Eddie’s fingers. You hear his hand working against his cock. Eddie’s fucking his fist while he fucks you with his fingers. These are things you know, but you’re gone. You’re somewhere else. You’re out of your body and feeling things that humans are incapable of. Gone, baby, gone.

It’s a crash of lightning. A scream into the night. Your body is not your own, but you’re in every single cell. You’re right fucking there when you feel it, tingles fromm head to toe while your limbs shake and a warm flood of ecstasy leaves you.

You’re whining, almost a cry of overwhelming pleasure while Eddie - your man - brings you into his chest. He holds you close and hushes those weak noises coming from your mouth. You find your body, and it’s sweaty and wet, but you smell Eddie. You feel his warm skin against your cheek. He’s holding you, in your bed. Your shared release cools rapidly while you both catch your breath. Kisses against vast expanses of skin. Fingers brushing against cheeks.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine

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queenimmadolla · 11 months

Note

hey i have a req for the penny verse!! if u want can u possibly do penny gets her period and like starts freaking out and only eddie’s home so he’s like “uh- i’ll go get some pads” if u want to ofc!!! i love ur writing <33

five months later and i was finally able to get to this one. sorry about the wait and i hope i did it just! this was also definitely influenced by me finally having seen Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.

rockstar!eddie manip by the talented @themunsonator5000!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫

(dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!reader) *but like you're not even in this*

summary: Your daughter gets her first period while you’re away and only Eddie is home. Somehow, she ends up comforting him.

warnings: lots of sentiment, brief (and i mean brief) mention of an oc side character death, angst, fluff, some hurt and whole lot of comforting. and of course mentions of periods.

𝗮/𝗻: 𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲'𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁, 𝗴𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂! more dad!eddie here.

Eddie let out a sigh as he collapsed back onto the couch, body nearly sinking into it.

The house was finally quiet. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. Felt foreign to him, especially in the new house.

He glanced around the living room, brown eyes lingering on a few empty boxes that had yet to be broken down from the move.

It was a big change, moving from Hawkins to California and he was well aware there wasn’t a single member of his family that was feeling completely positive about the experience. He could tell you were trying to be, for his sake and for the kids, but leaving behind all your friends was difficult. Even Eddie was struggling, despite Jeff, Gareth and Anthony being close by.

Corroded Coffin had picked up quite a bit of traction and a loyal fanbase that was stemming into a borderline crazed one. The demand for more performances and appearances was high. Eddie never thought they’d ever reach this level, had dreamed of it once but after he found out you were pregnant with Penny, he didn’t care for the dream anymore. He preferred his reality, his family.

Then the kids got older and you always encouraged him to keep playing so they did, and it happened. It wasn’t instant, overnight, or even close in years but they’d finally reached the point where the members were rarely in Hawkins. It had been the source of a lot of tension in your relationship, the hardest thing the two of you had ever gone though. You hated that he wasn’t around much and so did Eddie, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Contracts had been signed and the ink had already dried.

The fighting had been exhausting, at one point it felt as though the two of you lost each other and that had been terrifying.

And his kids—his babies. He was missing out on his babies growing up and it broke his fucking heart. Wayne appeared indifferent, but Eddie knew he cared and Penny was like you, always trying to seem okay and put together but she was hiding stuff from him—no scary secrets or rebellion, she was hiding her feelings.

When you found out you were pregnant again, in the midst of all the fighting and distance, it had been the final straw for Eddie. He wasn’t about to let his family slip between his fingers.

The moment a show ended, and he didn’t have another the following day, he was rushing off stage to shower, throwing some inconspicuous clothes on to keep the invasive cameras from recognizing him, before he was on the next flight to Indiana. It didn’t matter if he only got to be there sporadically, he was there every. single. chance. he got.

And when Maple was born during one of their concerts, Gareth was subbing in for lead vocals while he was holding your hand in the delivery room.

It took time, love and a lot of nurturing but things got better. Then, you’d brought up moving to California. Most of Corroded Coffin’s appearances were based in the area which meant you and the kids would be closer to him, able to see him nearly every day if he wasn’t doing press or touring.

You were extending the olive branch.

In truth, he hadn’t wanted to agree immediately, knew he’d be leaving Wayne behind (the old man said he wasn’t meant for city life, that he’d stay and have a place for his grandkids to visit and he couldn’t leave behind the women he loved, both of them now resting in the same cemetery), as well as your shared friends and the friends Penny and Wayne had made. It was a lot to leave.

In the end, you were willing to leave everything if it meant you’d never have to leave Eddie, never have to break your family. So, the boxes had been packed and labeled, goodbyes had been exchanged (Penny had cried when little Winnie, Megan and Margot Harrington, hadn’t wanted to let her go and Wayne had exchanged a heartfelt hug with his namesake, who was his favorite person to be around) and all your friends and family had been left waving goodbye to you from the rearview mirror.

Yeah. Everyone was adjusting.

Which led to today. Wayne had a field trip to the zoo, which he didn’t want to go on because of how new he was and his lack of friends. You’d been planning on taking the baby and going with him (the only way he’d agree to go) until Penny came down with something last night, complaining about not feeling good which meant you’d have to stay home with her.

If Eddie’s family was making sacrifices for him, then he was more than willing to make a sacrifice on behalf of Ari, his publicist, and canceled an interview he hadn’t even wanted to do in the first place. The guys were also happy to stay home, so it was a win. You took Wayne on his field trip, because Eddie couldn’t go anywhere without some dick with a camera following him around, and Eddie stayed home with Penny and Maple.

Only, Penny locked herself away in her room and either Eddie was really out of practice or Maple just had a difficult time bonding with him because she would not stop wailing and shrieking. She had more teeth breaching her gums, and Eddie had tried everything he could to sooth her, everything he’d used with Penny and Wayne; frozen teething toys, massaged over the area of her gums, baby orajel, cuddles, she just fought him every time.

The only reason she’d gone down was because of how hard she’d been crying, little body shaking and trembling as she shrieked as loud as her little lungs would allow her to, tears streaming down her face and continuously pooling in her eyes. She’d worn herself out.

Big moment of defeat for him, he’d felt guilty ever since he put her in her crib, wiping the wet trails from her face. Even in sleep, she didn’t look at peace.

He could play to sold out arenas, had played a five hour concert in Madison Square fucking Garden, but he couldn’t sooth his baby, couldn’t take his son to the zoo and his oldest barely talked to him.

The life of a Rockstar.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie reached to his side for the remote to the television. When his palm met the fabric of the cushions, he let out a more aggressive sigh, rising so he could take the couch apart in his search for that damn remote even though he knew it would somehow pop up in the most conspicuous place, though he’d last left it on that fucking cushion.

He’d just lifted one large cushion when he heard a high pitched shriek.

“MOM!”

Penny.

Eddie dropped the cushion as he ran upstairs towards her room. When he burst through the door, head whipping around, he still couldn’t find her. Then he noticed the light coming from under her bathroom door and rushed forward.

“Penny?!” He called out, aggressively twisting the knob but it didn’t budge. He got desperate and shouldered the door, ready to break it down in an instant if she didn’t answer, “Penny, are you okay?!”

“I need mom!” She called through the door.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He kept trying the knob, eager to just yank it off and get to his little girl.

Had she slipped and fallen? Thrown up? Should he call an ambulance–no, fuck that, they’d be too slow, he’d grab Penny and the baby and take her himself.

“NO! I’m fine, I just–I need mom.” Penny sounded closer, and Eddie felt a little relieved to know she wasn’t injured. But why didn’t she want him?

“I can help, sweet pea! Your tummy upset? I can make some soup! Or-or I can go get you what you need!”

“The only thing I need is mom.” She was right on the other side of the door now.

Eddie sighed, forehead dropping against his side of the bathroom door in defeat. Of course she didn’t want to talk to him. “Well, mom isn’t here right now. So. I guess you're stuck with me.”

Alright, maybe Eddie had been expecting her to take pity on him but she didn’t.

The door remained closed and she stayed silent so with a heavy heart, Eddie settled against the wall opposite of the door. He’d be there for her when she decided to come out.

It took about ten minutes before he heard the door unlock and it opened slowly, just her head poking out in his exact direction, as if she’d known he’d still be there. Her big brown eyes were vulnerable, eyebrows slightly furrowed–she was nervous.

“I’m bleeding.” She said it so softly, it had Eddie scrambling up and towards her. She backed into the bathroom to allow him in, but when he looked her over, he didn’t see any injuries. She was just fidgeting, playing with her fingers. It was when she glanced up at him and then nervously to the toilet bowl that it clicked for him.

Penny had her first period.

“Oh, shit.”

“Dad!”

“Sorry, sorry! I just–wow, uh, first…”

“Period, dad. I got my period!” She rolled her eyes and Eddie just nodded, head moving like a bobble head.

“I know! I know! Trust me, I know what a period is. I’m just–you caught me off guard, I mean your mom said–.” And then Eddie recalled exactly what you said, “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

Eddie ran from her bathroom, towards the master bedroom. Sure enough, a peak under one of your shared bathroom cabinets produced a box of pads, unopened.

“Yes.” He hissed, snatching it from its place before he ran back to her room. Penny hadn’t moved from her spot, eyes widening as he offered her the box and wiped the hair out of his face.

“Here. Your mom got you these, she said–she uh, had a feeling you’d, you know, start soon.”

Penny took the box from his hands, glancing down at them in wonder.

Eddie watched her, heart clenching for some reason he couldn’t quite explain.

“Pretty big moment, huh?” He broke the silence with a soft chuckle, clearing his rapidly tightening throat.

It turned out to be the right thing to say, she angled her head up to beam at him.

“I can’t believe I got it, everyone else has it but I didn’t think I would!”

Penny was excited about it, you’d explained to him that she would be when she first got her period, because Eddie knew how much you hated yours (unless you thought you were pregnant–then it was suddenly your best friend who you missed dearly). It would be a big moment for her, a right of passage in girlhood or something. Or at least one that tampon and pad companies established.

“So it is a big moment,” Eddie reiterated, blinking hard.

“Yeah, I–dad, are you crying?”

Eddie kept blinking, shaking his head as his vision blurred and he sniffled, “No. Why would I be crying? I’m not crying, my little girl has a period. That’s it. Nothing to cry over.”

“Dad…” She started before she placed the box on the tile and hugged his waist.

That’s when Eddie actually started crying, bending over to wrap his arms around her shoulders. He held her like that for a few moments, pressing a few kisses to the top of her head.

It seemed like she was trying to comfort him because she didn’t pull away, just let him hold her until eventually he realized she’d need to actually use one of those pads.

“You know how to work those, right?” He asked, standing straight though his hands remained on her shoulders as her arms went back to her sides.

“I know how to use them, dad, some of the girls at school showed me theirs.” She laughed out, “I still can’t believe I got it!”

“Is that why you didn’t go to school?” He asked and she got quiet, shifting her weight and toeing the grout before she looked up at him, eyes clouded with guilt.

“Shanti’s having a sleepover tonight and if I went to school, they’d know I’m not sick.” She admitted and Eddie frowned.

“I was actually talking about cramps, but she didn't invite you?”

Penny went back to avoiding his gaze and walked over to the bathroom wall, resting her back against it so she could slide to the floor and pull her knees to her chest. Eddie immediately joined her, one knee up and the other leg spread out. She was finally talking to him, he didn’t want it to end.

“She invited me, but they’re just gonna talk about their periods and boys and stuff. And I didn’t have my period so I didn’t want to go.”

“Oh, I see,” Eddie didn’t want to talk about the subject of boys and stuff, he’d put that off for years if he could. “You could go now, you’ve got your period.”

“I don’t know,” she put her chin on the top of her knees, and Eddie stared at her, still so amazed at how much she looked like you. “I don’t know if they really like me. I’m trying really hard, but it doesn’t feel easy, doesn’t feel natural.”

“I know how you feel,” he muttered and when she glared at him from the corner of his eyes for daring to try to relate to a girl in the sixth grade, he started rambling, “Sometimes, you know, you feel like you’ve got to try hard to get people to talk to you and sometimes you feel like they’re not happy with you so you try harder, and then you can’t tell if they like you or if they like how hard you’re trying or how desperate you are to be with them and wanting them to spend time with you or if you’re just annoying them. And they feel bad for you.”

Eddie stared at the large mirror across from the pair, at his reflection and soaked in the truth of it all. He could relate to Penny a little too much.

His head lulled to the side, catching her eyes as she watched him.

“But she invited you, baby. If you ask me, I think they want to be your friends. Maybe it doesn’t feel natural because you’re scared to stop trying so hard.”

She considered his statement, pursing her lips.

“Maybe you’re right. Can I even go? You’re not mad at me for lying?”

Eddie huffed out a breathy laugh, hand reaching over to stroke over her curls, “About this? No. I’m just glad you told me. You can go if you want, okay?”

She nodded, and Eddie withdrew his hands as she stretched her legs out, figuring the conversation was over. He felt a little better about their relationship–she hadn’t iced him out after all.

Penny moved onto her knees, ready to push herself up and Eddie was about to do the same thing when she got his attention.

“Uhm, daddy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I think the people you’re talking about moved from Hawkins over here because they want to be with you, too. All the time. You don’t have to try so hard, ‘cause we love you a lot. Maple’s just a big cry baby.”

There was no way Eddie could deny the water at his lower lash line or the two large tears that trailed down his cheeks. “C’mere.”

Penny wrapped her arms around his shoulders as Eddie hugged her to him tightly, eyes squeezing shut as the two ton weight that had been pressing on his heart was lifted by a little girl barely half his size.

“I love you, daddy.” She whispered, squeezing him back. Ediie could feel something wet pressing against his neck and he realized she was crying, too. The last time he’d seen her cry was when they said goodbye to everyone in Hawkins. Eddie inhaled a shaky breath as he responded, a hand moving to cradle the back of her head.

“I love you, too, baby. I love you all so much.”

They held each other until she pulled away, wiping at her face.

“I have to put on a pad, daddy.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. I’ll give you some privacy.” Eddie pushed himself up, stretching his arms up and relishing in the sensation.

“Can we watch The Wild Thornberrys after?”

“Of course, baby.” That was the children’s show Flea always bragged about being on. Dude had so many movie roles, it was insane.

Eddie was about to leave the bathroom, doorknob in his hand to close it behind him when she stopped him again, “And daddy, if you want to spend time with me, you can always take me to the Spice Girls concert.”

Eddie smirked, amused with the innocent act she was playing, eyelashes batting and making her eyes appear even wider.

“I’ll think about it.”

While Penny finished up, Eddie checked in on Maple–who was awake and waiting for him, pacifier in her mouth and little arms outstretched the moment he came into view. His little mini-me (out of all of his kids, she looked the most like Eddie) cuddled up to him as soon as he picked her up, cheek resting on his shoulder.

Then he went in search of the house phone so he could call Ari and get tickets for the next Spiceworld show.

(Penny ended up finding the remote for the TV on the arm of the loveseat where Eddie had not left it.)

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silent-stories · 11 months

Note

braiding eddie's hair ? 🥺

Braiding his hair

Movie nights at Steve's house have become a habit. Maybe after fighting monsters in another dimension and almost dying in the process people get closer and need at least one day a week to spend peacefully watching a movie.

Steve's house was gigantic but that didn't change the fact that the couch in the living room wasn't big for all of you and someone always had to stay on the floor.

You claimed your place on the couch that night, complaining that you'd been on the floor the previous week too, and so did Nancy and Robin, who settled in next to you.

Eddie, Steve and Jonathan grabbed some blankets and pillows and sat down at the foot of the couch, discussing possible movies to watch.

"If someone says the Breakfast Club again, I'll leave my own house." Steve commented making Robin roll her eyes.

While you were still deciding, a pillow fell off the couch and when you reached out to grab it, your fingers brushed Eddie's head for a brief moment.

"Well, it looks like someone here has what it takes to steal the title of 'the hair' from Steve." You joked after realizing how soft Eddie's hair was.

You twirled a strand of his curls between your fingers before letting it go, making it fall back onto his back. You wondered what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair.

Steve just scoffed as he grabbed Poltergeist, deciding that that was the movie you were going to see.

Eddie murmured an ironic "I could never" and dropped the subject.

Jonathan turned off the lights, Robin grabbed some snacks from the kitchen and the movie started but you couldn't get a thought out of your head.

After about ten minutes you reached out to where Eddie was sitting, in front of you, and grabbed a strand of hair again, timidly and slowly.

"Eddie?" You asked, your voice little more than a whisper so as not to disturb the others, even though everyone was already too focused to notice you were even speaking.

Eddie turned his head towards you and his gaze met your, his eyes reflected the images on the TV and he looked even prettier.

"Sweetheart?"

"Can I braid your hair?"

Maybe it was a stupid question, you thought he was going to laugh at you and tell you that you weren't ten year olds at a sleepover.

Instead, a small smile appeared on his lips but it was far from mocking you. "Go ahead."

You softly placed a hand on his shoulder to push him closer to you and started dividing his hair into three sections.

Braiding his hair relaxed you and by the way his shoulders and back muscles relaxed under his Black Sabbath shirt you could tell he was finding it pleasurable too.

When the braid was done you realized you didn't have anything to secure it at the end, so you ran your fingers through his hair and it went back to how it was before.

You took your hands away from his curls, thinking that was enough, but he turned back to you.

"You can- you can do it again. If you want." He said before turning back to the film, trying to hide the suddenly born blush on his face.

A smile appeared on your lips.

He liked it.

He enjoyed having your fingers braid his hair, go through it and play with it.

Your hand found his brown locks again and despite the voices coming from the TV, you could clearly hear the sigh of relief coming out of Eddie's mouth.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff

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strangersmunsons · 6 months

Text

read 'em and weep #3

you and Eddie spend more time together. romance blossoms.

Chapter 3 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 2 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, lowkey shy!reader, new love and giddiness all around, and a brief cameo from Steve. No mention of reader's physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Word Count: ~5.5k this took me sooo, ridiculously long to finish. work, writer's block, etc kept getting in the way! hopefully this is okay. i've spent far too much time at this point editing & second-guessing everything, i finally just had to stop overthinking & post!

You’re lying on your bed, nearly dozing when the telephone on your nightstand starts ringing shrilly.

The shock of it startles you from your half-sleep, and you blearily push yourself upright from the prone position. One hand smashes into the pages of the magazine you’d been skimming through, which slips forward on the soft bed covers.

Too comfy to really want to move, you stretch over and clumsily pick up the phone, bringing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Eddie,” says the voice on the other end. There’s a fuzziness around the edge of his words as they crackle through the speaker.

It’s not the first time he’s rang you at this hour, but a thrill still shoots through you at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”

Eddie has quickly become a fixture in your life over the past few weeks. Your friendship continued to blossom with each visit he paid you at the library, where he gave you live updates on his reading progress, not even bothering to wait until he was finished before sharing his opinions. He was nice, and funny, and you became increasingly fond of him.

Then one day, while he was chatting your ear off about something or other, it hit you: you think Eddie’s pretty. His face is sculpted but soft, everything just looks so soft. The rounded chin and cheeks, the bulbous tip of his nose that looks like the perfect place to plant a tiny kiss…

He had kept on talking, but you could hardly hear what he was saying. Suddenly all you could focus on was the prickly warmth creeping up the back of your neck and into your ears. It was reminiscent of a feeling you’d had once or twice before around him, but this time it came in swinging. And finally, you could see it for what it really was. Oh.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry, I know it’s kinda late.”

“No, I was still up.”

You sound a bit groggy, but if Eddie notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Okay, good. How are you?”

“I’m alright. How are you?”

“I’m alright,” he echoes back wryly. “How was your day? Did you have to work?”

“Yes, I did. It was good.” You reconsider, an uncomfortable moment spent with your boss flashing back to you, and grimace. “Mostly, anyway. How was your day?”

“Listen, don’t worry about me yet, I’m trying to ask about you. Tell me about your day, why was it only mostly good?”

Eddie seems to have a knack for that; saying things that make your heart flutter in a very nonchalant way, like it’s no big deal. You’re glad this conversation is over the phone, so he can’t see the dopey look on your face.

“Well…” You bite your lip. “It’s not a big deal, but do you know the librarian at all?”

“Marissa? Unfortunately. She’s kind of a bitch.”

“Yeah, she is. And today she overheard me telling another clerk what I have planned for Story Time this weekend, and she doesn’t like it. So she got kind of nasty with me.”

“Why? Are you reading something very inappropriate?”

“I want to read them this Dr. Seuss book, Bartholomew and the Oobleck, do you remember that one? And then for the craft period, we’ll make the oobleck. It’s really easy, just cornstarch and water. But she’s saying that I shouldn’t do it because it’s going to make too much of a mess.”

“Oobleck is supposed to be a really thick slime, right? The whole point is that it gets everywhere and they can’t get rid of it?”

“Well, yeah,” you admit. “So she might actually have a point.”

“Are you kidding?” he replies brightly. “They’ll love that shit. You should do it anyway, I think that’s a sick idea.”

“Thank you.” There’s a touch of pride in your voice. You really do try your best to come up with fun and interesting things for the kids. Encouraging them to read and sparking their creativity is all you ever hope for. “I also think it’s a great opportunity to teach them all about non-Newtonian fluids.”

Eddie barks out a laugh, and it digs sharply into your ear.

“You’re funny sometimes, you know that?”

You were being serious, but if it means you’re making Eddie laugh, then you suppose you’ll take it.

He continues without waiting for an answer. “If you need help cleaning up after, I can be around for that, since I don’t work until later.”

Immediately, your brain conjures up visions of green goo splattering everywhere, getting stuck to the low tables and entrenching itself into the carpet. You can’t bring yourself to inflict that upon him. “That’s awfully sweet of you, but you absolutely do not have to do that,” you reassure him.

“I’ll be there,” he says firmly.

“No!”

“I wanna play with the oobleck. I’ll be there.”

“Fine,” you concede with a laugh. “I won’t argue with that.” There’s a warm pause, mutual affection running through the miles of telephone wire connecting the two of you. You fiddle with a small pilled spot on the bedspread. “So how’s the latest book coming along?”

“Well,” he heaves out with a great sigh, “I finally finished Left Hand of Darkness, which was really good. I can’t say I liked it better than Earthsea, but I enjoyed it. I get why you like it so much.”

“Comes down to personal preference. I’ve never met a bigger fantasy nerd than you, so Earthsea would be tough competition.”

“For my own sake, I’m choosing to take that as a compliment. Oh, and Genly and Estraven definitely had sex when they were alone on the ice together. I don’t care if they say otherwise.”

“Oh, they totally did!” you concur with a giggle.

“They were definitely kemmering, or whatever it is you’re supposed to call it. Anyway, I’m on to Geek Love now, and frankly, I’m shocked that you recommended this to me.”

“Why? You don’t like it?” It is a little grotesque, but you thought he’d be into that.

“No, I do. But I just can’t believe that a sweet thing like you would read a book like this.”

Your cheeks flood with heat as the word bounces around your head. Sweet, sweet, sweet — he thinks I’m sweet. “I like all kinds of books,” you mumble, and mentally kick yourself for not coming up with something more flirtatious to say back. The banter came a little more easily before you realized just how much you like him.

“So I’ve gathered.”

“Just you wait. I’ll have you reading the Brontës in no time.”

He huffs in disbelief. “Right. That’s likely.” He clears his throat. “Hey, um, can I ask you something?” There’s an edge to his voice you’re not used to hearing.

“Shoot.”

“Do you wanna come and hang out at my place this weekend? We could get food and watch a movie, like Lord of the Rings or something, if you still wanted to see it. Or we can go to the video store and pick something out. You can choose.”

So far, Eddie’s only ever come to visit you at the library. The prospect of spending time with him alone — truly alone, without coworkers and patrons lurking just around the corner — makes your heart hammer dizzyingly against your ribs. You keep your answer simple. “Yes. I would like that.”

“Awesome.”

Wayne can hear one side of the discussion drifting through the trailer when he comes home, kicking his work boots off and leaving them by the door. Halfway across the living room he spies his nephew in the kitchen, and his eyebrows shoot up at the state of him.

Eddie’s leaning with his back against the wall, the phone held in place between his cheek and his shoulder. One ringed hand is twirling the phone cord around his finger as he speaks in a low voice, goofy grin plastered on his face.

They make eye contact across the trailer. Eddie immediately straightens up and tries to neutralize his expression.

Wayne snorts out a laugh.

“So, um, so anyway—“ Eddie fumbles with the phone “— does six o’clock work?” He turns to the side in a poor attempt to muffle the conversation.

Wayne steps into the kitchen and tosses his jacket and lunchbox across the table. He makes a kissy-face at Eddie.

Eddie gives him the finger.

The day Eddie is meant to see you takes forever to arrive. However, as he stares at his reflection in his dresser mirror, he starts to feel like maybe it actually came way too quickly.

He’d spent the past half-hour wildly picking through his closet, combing his hair with his fingers, trying to figure out how he should present himself as more and more clothing gets flung around the room. Eventually he gave up on his hair, and came up with an ensemble he liked, but would you like it? Would you like him?

To the untrained eye, Eddie is wearing his standard Eddie-uniform: tight black pants and a band t-shirt. On the surface, it’s a regular outfit for him. But if one is a truly acute observer, they should clearly be able to see that there are subtle variations within this basic framework he’s donning that scream “Eddie Munson is Trying to Impress a Girl!”

His ripped jeans have tears that expose swaths of skin not just on his knees, but his thighs as well (scandalous!) and he’s wearing his coolest Slayer t-shirt, the one that he ripped the sleeves off of so that his tattooed arms are on full display. And it’s just loose enough so that when he leans forward, the fabric gives way so you can catch a glimpse of his chest, with its sparse hair and winking nipple ring.

It’s all very deliberate.

But as much as Eddie doesn’t want to admit it, he’s nervous. While he becomes increasingly enamored of you, unable to keep the sly compliments and saccharine terms of endearment from slipping out, you get more shy. He still hasn’t figured out if that’s a good or bad sign.

Both of you seem to be hovering in romantic limbo, tiptoeing along the fine line between friendship and flirtation. Playful and insecure. Tender and uncertain. Was your puckish rapport a new experience, or were you like that with every person you met? Did you like it when he phoned you late at night and called you honey and sweetheart, or were you just too polite to correct him? Did you hold his name and face in your soft heart when he wasn’t right there next to you, like he did yours?

He’d chickened out at the last minute, dancing around the word ‘date.’

Eddie could be smooth on occasion, sure. But it was different when you knew you didn’t actually have a shot in hell with the person you were talking to. He didn’t have to be afraid of rejection when he already knew it was coming.

Like, he could flirt and wink at Chrissy Cunningham all he wanted and invite her to the Hideout because he knew full-well that she was never really going to show up to watch his band play — let alone dump her boyfriend to go out with him. So he could ham it up, make a fool of himself, and then shrug it all off when nothing happened.

Only a few girls had ever taken him up on his offers. And they always ended up being private affairs; nobody wanted to risk being seen out at dinner with Eddie Munson. Instead there were quick and clumsy trysts in the back of his van or in the woods behind the school, and he was reduced to a novelty notch in the bedpost, a secret for them to whisper about at slumber parties, the eponymous who of a giggly “Guess who I hooked up with!”

It took Eddie a minute to catch on. He remembers the first time, when he hooked up with a girl at a party he was dealing at during his junior year. The next school day, he tried approaching her in the hallway as she chatted with a fellow cheerleader, and she quite literally turned on her heel and ran — but not without shooting him a look of such intense disdain that it made Eddie physically flinch. Her friend snapped her locker shut, and snickered knowingly at Eddie before following suit.

He won’t lie, that one stung. He’d stood there in mild shock at being brushed off so harshly, while other students milled about, completely oblivious to his distress; someone deliberately knocked their shoulder into his as they passed by, causing the handle of his lunchbox to slip out from his sweaty fist. It fell to the floor with a loud clang that echoed about his ears.

Eddie had already had a pretty good idea of what other people thought of him, but boy, did it really sink in that day.

It set the framework for what his love life would look like for the rest of high school. Which maybe wouldn’t have been so horrible to deal with, if only he hadn’t been in high school for two years longer than he’d expected to be.

So he leaned into it. It was really the only thing he could do, and hey, at least it meant that he could get some every now and then. What did it matter if they refused to make eye contact with him the next day? He didn’t need all that relationship mess, anyway. He didn’t care.

He didn’t care, he didn’t care, he didn’t care — if he tried to tell himself that one more time he was going to explode.

In reality Eddie’s a pretty lonely guy. But since meeting you? He’s hopeful for the first time in a long time that maybe his life doesn’t have to be that way.

Eddie raps on your front door with his fist, biting the inside of his cheek. Pizza and movies. Easy breezy. There has never been a more relaxed person than you, ever, he thinks, buzzing with nervous energy.

After a moment the door swings open. “Hi,” you greet him, stepping out onto the welcome mat, tugging at the shoulder strap of your purse.

“Hey,” he responds with an easy smile on his lips, one that doesn’t betray his anxiety. He gives you an approving once-over and lets out a low whistle. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

And you really are. He’s never seen you in anything but your work clothes, so he appreciates this chance to see you in an outfit that’s true to your style.

You let out an embarrassed chuckle and wave a hand at him. “Oh, please.”

“No, I’m serious! You look very nice.”

You can hardly meet his gaze, a flustered grin forming on your own face. “Thank you. So do you.”

He shrugs modestly, but his dimples show. He gestures to where his van sits parked by the curb. “Shall we?”

The interior of the van is plush and blue and smells of tobacco and something vaguely minty. Eddie insists on running around the vehicle so he can open the passenger-side door for you, and holds out his arm for you to grasp while you climb in; an unexpected act of chivalry.

“Wow, I’m getting the full VIP treatment here, aren’t I?” you ask him jokingly as you clamber onto the seat.

“Get used to it, sweetheart. I may not look it, but I’m a gentleman of the highest caliber.”

“I’m sure you are. I’ll bet Emily Post writes to you for etiquette tips.”

Eddie turns the engine on, and music starts blaring from the speakers. He quickly turns the volume down, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I, uh, I like it loud.” He gestures to a shoebox tucked away on the floor by your feet. “There’s a bunch of other tapes in there, you can pick a different one if you like.”

You’re delighted to realize that you have an opportunity to tease him. You tilt your head up, lips pouting as though you’re deep in thought. “Okay. Let's say I pull out a different tape.”

Eddie looks at you quizzically, but plays along. “Okay. Let’s say you do.”

“Now, hypothetically, I would do this because I want to hear something different from what’s playing currently. Right?”

“Right…”

You reach into the box and pull out the first tape you make contact with, and end up with the latest W.A.S.P. album. You cock an eyebrow at him while you hold out the tape for him to see. “So riddle me this: what are the chances that this album — or any of these albums, for that matter — sound any different from what you’re playing right now?”

Eddie attempts to stifle a laugh and fails. “Hey now,” he says, trying to sound stern, “there is something incredibly special and nuanced about every single tape in that box. I would never deign to compare Ride the Lightning to The Headless Children. Completely different. Worlds apart, in fact.”

You shrug, pleased with yourself. “If you say so. You would know better than me.”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be metal,” he promises, peering over his shoulder as he backs out onto the street.

You continue rifling around in his box of tapes. “Do you really think I could be? My job is reading picture books to preschoolers.”

“Totally. There’s nothing more metal than the public library.”

The first stop you and Eddie make is at his favorite local pizza joint, where he insists on paying for dinner himself — he wouldn’t even let you throw a dollar in the tip jar. The shop is conveniently located in the same strip mall as the Family Video, so after putting your order in, the two of you cross the road to browse for a movie while you wait.

When you enter the store, you’re greeted by the little tinkling sound of bells and a bored ‘Welcome’ from the employee seated at the counter.

The cashier is cute — not as cute as Eddie, you think — and probably about the same age. When he finally looks up from the counter and sees the two of you together, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise before furrowing again as he makes eye contact with Eddie.

The two boys stare at each other in mutual distaste. He nods coolly at Eddie. “Munson.”

Eddie’s reply is flat. “Harrington.”

As you approach the counter, the employee’s name tag comes into view: Steve.

Eddie strides past him and doesn’t stop, even when Steve calls out to his retreating back —

“You still haven’t brought back Spinal Tap!”

“I know,” Eddie replies, not bothering to turn around.

You follow Eddie across the store, skimming through the colorful titles. He stops abruptly in the middle of an aisle, and you bump softly into his back.

He gives you an amused smirk from over his shoulder. “Easy there.”

“Sorry,” you reply, giving him a little smile that’s all too apologetic for his liking. He can’t resist the urge to reach out and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go again.

You beam at him.

“So what are we feeling?” he asks, feeling needlessly scrambled at the brief but lingering affection. “Something scary? Funny?” He bats his eyelashes dramatically. “Romantic?”

Your response is automatic. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

Eddie frowns at you. “I told you, it’s your choice. I already picked out a two-hour cartoon.”

He’s being very sweet. But you want to pick something that he’ll enjoy, too.

Acting on a little tip from your new friend Steve the Cashier, you ask Eddie —

“So you like Rob Reiner movies, huh?”

Eddie slaps The Princess Bride down on the counter in front of Steve.

“Nice vest,” he comments.

Steve shoots him a dirty look. “Your late fees are gonna pile up.”

Eddie ignores this.

Steve sighs and begins the checkout process. Eddie can’t help noticing Steve casting you sidelong glances, his eyes flitting up and down your figure appreciatively.

Eddie clears his throat pointedly.

“Here.” Steve pushes the film back over the counter.

Eddie grabs it and heads for the door without saying anything; you, confused and a little put off by the attitude, offer Steve your most polite “Thank you!” before scurrying out after him.

Eddie holds the door for you when exiting, a pleasant expression on his face that’s a stark contrast from the one he wore when talking to Steve. When you’re both back outside, you can’t help but wonder what that cashier ever did to him.

“I take it you’re not a fan of Steve from Family Video?” you press.

Eddie looks sheepish. “You caught that, huh?”

“It was kind of hard to miss.”

He hesitates. “Well, we went to school together, and he wasn’t very nice. Let’s leave it at that.”

You simply nod, understanding his reluctance to say more. Reliving your high school trauma isn’t exactly something you’re interested in right now, either.

As you and Eddie head back across the street, your swinging arms cause your hands to brush against one another. After a moment’s hesitation, he clasps your hand in his, and your fingers intertwine, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.

Eddie starts the drive home, and he feels a wave of apprehension.

He told you he lived in Forest Hills early on, and you didn’t bat an eyelash. But with you being so new in town, he wasn’t really sure that you even knew it was a trailer park.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed, exactly, or even that he thinks you’ll really mind — nothing you’ve said to him thus far indicated that his economic status would bother you — but being called trailer trash as many times as he has…well, it’s enough to make anyone defensive.

By the time he pulls up to the Munson trailer, he still hasn’t dared to look across the cab to see your reaction. “Well, here we are!” he exclaims in a hearty voice that doesn’t match what he’s feeling inside at all.

While you fumble between unbuckling your seatbelt and balancing the pizza box on your lap, Eddie darts out of the van so he can help you climb out again. When he opens the door he’s relieved to see that you don’t seem phased by your surroundings; you flash him the same happy smile you always do, and it gives him a boost of confidence.

Hopping up the porch steps, he unlocks the rickety front door and gestures for you to enter, bowing slightly. “After you, miss.”

You curtsey back. “Thank you, sir.”

Eddie pretends that that has less of an effect on him than it actually does.

Inside, he watches you peer around the trailer in interest. He’s glad that he did a deep-clean yesterday: there’s no clothes hanging over the furniture, any garbage he could find was bagged up and taken out, and he wiped down all the flat surfaces with the lemon-y spray cleaner that lives beneath the sink. He even dumped out all the ashtrays; when Wayne saw that, he commented that he must really like this girl.

“That’s a lot of mugs,” you comment, looking admiringly at the shelves that display years of Wayne’s little hobby. “I’m impressed.”

“They’re my uncle’s,” says Eddie as he kicks off his shoes. “I keep telling him he’s got a problem.”

“No, they’re great,” you insist. “Everybody collects something. Don’t you?”

Eddie pauses, hovering by the boxy television. “I guess so. Music. D and D shit.” He sets the pizza down on the coffee table. “Here, have a seat. I’ll get us some plates.”

Eddie walks to the kitchen and starts rifling through the cabinets for some paper plates and napkins. You call out to him from your seat on the worn sofa. “Is your uncle working right now?”

“Yeah.” Eddie pads back into the living room. “He works a lot of night shifts.”

“Are all Munsons generally nocturnal?” you ask, referring to his bartending gig at The Hideout, a job that keeps him busy well into the night.

Eddie chuckles as crouches by the coffee table, pulling off two slices of greasy pizza and laying one on each plate. “I guess you could say that,” he says, handing you your share. Brown eyes find yours and he nudges your knee with his elbow playfully. “But it leaves me free to come and bother you at work during the day, doesn’t it?”

You dig the toe of your sock into the rug and look down at the food instead of him. “I wouldn’t call you a bother.”

His full lips turn up at the corners. “You wouldn’t?” He rests his hand on your leg, and his fingers swirl a gentle pattern over your skin.

You swallow. “No.” The word comes out subdued and breathy.

Eddie doesn’t move, but stays positioned by your knee, staring up at you. “Look at me again,” he says softly, leaning in a little closer.

You do as he asks and it’s almost too much. His eyes are huge and warm and they look like everything you’ve ever wanted.

A few seconds tick by, and then the phone rings and Eddie’s standing up again, whatever momentary spell the two of you were under, broken.

“Hang on,” he says, face tinged pink.

You settle back into the sofa and squirm, feeling feverish.

Eddie wrenches the phone off the hook in annoyance. “Hello?” When the person on the other line answers, he huffs and rolls his eyes, turning away so his back is towards you. Still, you catch snippets of the exchange:

“Henderson, I said tomorrow, okay?” Eddie hisses in aggravation. “No, I don’t care if you don’t wanna do it in the morning, man. I’ve gotta work tomorrow night. You guys either come early or it’s not happening.”

You watch him curiously.

“Suck it up.” Eddie pauses to listen to the person speak again, and turns and glances at you across the trailer. Then his tone becomes noticeably gentler. “Thanks, man. I’ll let you know. See ya.”

He hangs up the phone with a sigh, and his face relaxes into a smile again.

He strolls back into the living room and claps his ringed hands together. “So! Are you ready to experience a cinematic masterpiece?”

Some three hours later, you and Eddie are slumped back against the worn cushions, now one and half movies deep. Over the course of the night you’ve slowly closed the distance between your bodies, so his leg is pressed against yours. Eddie has one arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers dancing just above the skin of your collarbone. Both of you are stuffed to the gills, and more than a little sleepy. Even Eddie, who kept up a stream of commentary during Lord of the Rings, eager to discuss his favorite bits of Middle Earth lore with you, is tuckered out.

Shenanigans play out on the television screen. You let out a huge yawn.

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulder, hand digging into the meat of your bicep, pulling you closer to him. “This okay?” he murmurs.

You nod clumsily and start fidgeting, your hands twisting in your lap.

Eddie says your name softly. You hum in acknowledgement.

“I really like you. And I think you like me.” He cocks his head to the side. “Is that right?”

Your heart throbs.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Can I kiss you then, sweetheart?”

You nod; Eddie leans in slowly, then presses his lips to yours for a moment before pulling back again. It’s quick, chaste and sweet, and not nearly enough. Your hands find his face, palms landing on both his cheeks so you can bring his mouth back to yours.

He’s happy to oblige.

Eddie sighs, tongue dipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. One hand cups the back of your head, keeping you right where he wants you. The other snakes around your thigh, and he uses the leverage to abruptly pull you up and over his lap. A small “Oh!” of surprise escapes you at the jolt, but Eddie wastes no time in securing his mouth to yours again.

His kisses are wet, heady, and grow increasingly frantic as the two of you clutch at each other. Your hands weave into his hair — a longtime fantasy of yours come true at last — and he lets out a soft moan when your fingers tug gently at the tangled tresses.

Your skin feels tingly, sensitive, alight at every little touch he gives you. Your head is full of nothing but Eddie, the way he looks and feels and smells, and the way he makes you feel, like a shaken-up pop bottle, full of pink fizz and ready to burst.

Eddie suddenly laughs against your lips, smiling into another kiss.

You pull back hastily, self-consciously. But he looks jubilant, cheeks dimpled in joy, chocolate eyes crinkled at the outer corners.

“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, “it’s just — I couldn’t tell — I wasn’t really sure where your head was at.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “You kept gettin’ quiet on me all of a sudden.”

You let your head fall forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder, and let out a tiny groan. “I know. I’m sorry, it wasn’t you.”

You lift your head back up and face him. “I’m not usually very good at this stuff,” you admit. “Connecting with people. It’s harder, when you’re introverted…and have different interests. But you were so easy to talk to when we met! And I was so excited to make a new friend, but I…,” you trail off.

“But you what?” he prompts.

“The more I looked at you the cuter I thought you were.” The words come out in a rush. “When I realized what was happening I got nervous.”

Eddie waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Oh, something’s happening?”

You swat at him playfully.

“I’m kidding!” He rubs your shoulders soothingly. “But you don’t have to be nervous around me. I’m just some guy, y’know?”

“You, Eddie Munson, are certainly not just some guy.”

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me blush.”

The movie has long since ended, and a peaceful darkness settles over the trailer. The only sound is the chirp of the summer crickets outside and quiet breathing.

Eddie’s fully sprawled out over the couch with you nestled in his arms. It took some coaxing, but eventually he convinced you to lay on top of him, your warm weight better than any blanket, the sweet fragrance of your perfume soothing his senses. Your face is half-hidden in the crook of his neck, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I have a confession to make,” he says sleepily.

“Ooh. It better be something juicy.”

“It is. Excellent gossip. You can tell all your friends, I won’t even be mad.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I scoped you out at the library,” he admits. “I came in that day specifically to talk to you. Y’know, turn on that Munson charm, and sweep you off your feet, and all that.”

“Really?” You blink, trying to jog your memory. “I don’t remember ever seeing you before that.” You think of his tousled hair and clunky jewelry. “And you’re pretty memorable.”

“Well, there’s a slight chance that I, um, ducked, and hid behind a shelf when you got close. It was the Saturday right before we met, after you did your reading.”

That recalls something for you. “Wait, wait, maybe I do remember…” It’s hazy. Pale face, brown hair? You can’t quite place this person as Eddie, but it must have been him. “I think I did see you creeping around.”

“What can I say? Your story telling enthralled me.”

It’s the truth. He’d been browsing for a Clive Barker book when he caught sight of you in the children’s area. You read We’re Going on a Bear Hunt with an enthusiasm usually reserved for trained Shakespearean actors, and it left him undeniably impressed.

You cuddle closer to him, burying your face in his chest. “I’m glad you decided to nut up and talked to me.”

He smiles against your hair. “Me too.”

Early the next morning, in the hazy gray-blue dawn, the front door opens quietly — cautiously even. Wayne’s not sure what he’ll be walking into. All he knows is that his nephew really likes this girl, and that for Eddie’s sake he hopes that his date went well. He’s not sure how much more disappointment the boy can take. He wants to see him happy.

So he’s pleasantly surprised to see you and Eddie piled up on the couch like two puppies, fast asleep and — thank Christ — fully-clothed. Eddie’s arm is slung over you protectively, his soft snores just barely audible.

Good for him.

And if they wanna sleep in the living room, that’s fine.

Wayne’s gonna take the bed.

thank you for reading!! <3 Read Ch. 4 -> Here! taglist: @eddiesgirlforever, @eds6ngel, @sheisahauntedhouse, @lokis-tardis-companion19, @teary-eyed-egg, @whenshelanded, @nanaminswhore, @witchwolflea

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x bookworm!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson series

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afewproblems · 1 year

Note

I dunno if ur still doing prompts buuuuuttttt 87?? If u haven't done it yet?

87. "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Please enjoy my friend, this one was a lot of fun to write!!

“Hey! I was gonna eat that!” Robin yells as she walks back into the living room to find Eddie sitting with Steve on the couch with a brownie in his hands.

The plate it had been sitting on is empty except for several crumbs and a sliver of chocolate icing, the glass of milk on the coffee table is also empty, just to add insult to injury.

Steve rolls his eyes and flips the page of the magazine in his hands, he would be pulling off the appearance of ignoring Eddie and Robin except for the way his eyes jump to the pair of them and the ever present smile on his face that grows whenever one of them says something particularly snarky.

“Wow, that’s really weird,” Eddie says as he hastily stuffs the last half of the brownie into his mouth to avoid Robin’s grabby hands, “because I think it's almost gone,” he laughs as much as one can with a mouthful of chocolate.

Robin wrinkles her nose at the sight and sucks her teeth as Steve lifts the magazine slightly higher this time to block them from his line of sight.

“You wanna share the last bite,” Eddie says with a sly grin as he sticks his chocolate covered tongue out at Robin, who squawks in outrage.

“You’re disgusting, Steve, how could you let him take my brownie?”

Steve sighs from behind the magazine, “I’m not involved--”

“You damn well are!” Robin growls, crossing her arms over the large front pocket of the overalls she’s wearing, “you involved yourself the minute you let him take it while I was in the bathroom!”

Steve groans and drops his head to the back of the couch, “Robin, there is a whole pan full of brownies in the kitchen,” he finally puts down the magazine in defeat, “just get another one”.

Eddie leans back against the couch as well, putting his hands behind his head in triumph and lifting his feet to sit on the coffee table as he shoots Robin a wink.

“You don’t care that he’s picking on me, you’re supposed to be my best friend!” Robin pouts as she walks forward and sits cross legged beside the table, shoving Eddie’s feet away from her.

Eddie waggles his eyebrows at her as he slides down the couch, now leaning heavily against Steve’s shoulder. He tips his head back to look at Steve with a wide grin, “I guess that means I’m the real favorite here, eh Buckley?”

Steve rolls his eyes and stills for a brief moment as a wide grin suddenly takes over his face.

He looks at Robin, then back to Eddie, and without hesitation leans down to cup Eddie’s cheek before planting a kiss on his slightly parted lips.

Robin feels her jaw drop as Eddie freezes, his eyes the widest that she’s ever seen them as Steve pulls back briefly to place another soft kiss on Eddie’s lips and the tip of his nose.

He sits for a moment longer, holding Eddie’s face before he stands up with a snort.

Eddie sits there, frozen in the same leaned back position before slumping down onto the couch cushions Steve just left.

“Thanks for sharing,” Steve hums as he swipes his thumb over his bottom lip and sucks the tip of it into his mouth, “I just assumed the earlier offer was still on the table”.

Steve smiles broadly at the choking sound Eddie makes and the bright red flush that slowly climbs up his neck, rising into his cheeks.

Robin stares, completely speechless, this was not at all how she saw their morning going and by the looks of things, neither did Eddie.

“I’ll grab you another one Bobs,” Steve hums pleasantly as he brushes past her, making his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, and I don’t play favorites, I love you both equally,” he pauses at the door, lifting his gaze up to a point on the ceiling as he considers the words for a moment, “but maybe just a bit differently”.

He shoots them both a wide grin and disappears into the hallway.

Neither Robin or Eddie move for a moment, too shocked to even breath as they listen to Steve hum to himself in the other room, the clinking of plates punctuating his little song.

“Boy, he’s a smooth motherfucker when he wants to be isn’t he?” Robin mutters under her breath as Eddie practically melts into the floor.

#steddie #platonic stobin #did steve use kisses to stop robin and eddie from bickering #absolutely #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #these three have a stranglehold on me #this is very silly but I hope you still enjoy it!#oh if i put this on ao3 I'm calling it Chocolate Kisses #is that too corny?#tooth rotting fluff for you all after the angst this morning

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novacorpsrecruit · 4 months

Text

I’m With You

@steddielovemonth prompt: love is protection

wc: 1,061 | Rating T | cw: brief homophobia, fighting, wild Tommy Hagan appearance

Steve didn’t know he was in love until it happened.

After the events of Vecna, Eddie’s near death experience and Steve’s matching infected bat bites, the two grew closer. They shared a hospital room, pumped full of morphine and antibiotics as they healed.

Eddie’s name was cleared, thanks to the shady government, but Eddie wasn’t sure if that was enough. Most of Hawkins had already looked at him funny. He wasn’t sure if the cover story of almost dying by the hands of Victor Creel like Chrissy, Freddie, Patrick and Jason would be enough to save his name. Steve’s told him plenty of times to not to worry about other people. If anyone bothers Eddie, Steve will protect him.

They made plans, lying in the hospital beds covered in bandages to move out of Hawkins before the end of the year.

And maybe morphine promises are all what they’re worth.

Two months have gone by, summer coming in full force. The two were near inseparable. Spending late nights in Eddie’s new trailer or in the Harrington home. Sharing a bed, maybe a little too close for just friends. Waking up to share breakfast or maybe lunch. Dinners with Wayne. Nights at the drive in. Steve wouldn’t trade this friendship for the world.

Steve was back working at Family Video, picking up extra shifts to get a little extra money stuffed away for their escape. They talked about moving out of Hawkins sooner. Eddie’s had a hard time finding work after graduating. Not many people wanted to be associated with him. He was lucky that he didn’t cause Wayne to be fired.

So often, he spends his time with Steve at work. Steve didn’t mind at all. It made the day go faster. He brightened up every time Eddie walks in, ready to bug Steve and Robin. Plus, if anyone gave Eddie any shit, Steve would be right there to help him.

Robin told him he’s hopeless. Steve didn’t quite understand that.

Not until now.

They were around the corner, taking their smoke break. They passed a single cigarette, something they do now, while they shoot the shit. Talking about nothing felt like talking about everything. Sometimes about the latest campaign Eddie’s planned. Or if they should look into a place at Indy or a place in Chicago. Or what they were going to do when Steve closed up for the night.”

“Gareth’s brother’s got a place in Chicago,” Eddie said, exhaling smoke. “He said we could stay with him for a few weeks while we look for a place.

“We could get jobs there,” Steve offered. “Earn a little more to get a place.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “You want to do it?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, taking the cigarette from Eddie’s hands and putting it to his lips. “Let’s do it.”

Eddie’s smile, big and wide with excitement, faded quickly as his eyes darted to the side. They weren’t alone.

“Harrington,” a familiar voice sneered. Steve turned to glare at Tommy, back from college. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“At my place of employment?” Steve deadpanned.

“With him,” Tommy corrected. “I figured you’d still be chasing after Wheeler.”

Something in Tommy’s tone boiled Steve’s blood. “I’m on break, Tommy,” Steve said, inhaling on the cigarette, letting the smoke fall from his lips. “Go inside if you want something.”

“I want to know why you’re with him,” Tommy said, venom on his tongue. He took a step forward, into Steve’s space. “You’ve heard the rumors.”

“Steve,” Eddie said. “Let’s go inside.”

“Eddie was a victim of Creel,” Steve said, not stepping down from Tommy. “He didn’t do shit.”

“Not those rumors,” Tommy said. “The ones from school. Five dollar handy, ten for a blowjob, twenty for a — you get the picture.”

“Shut the hell up, Hagan,” Steve warned.

“How much you paying him?” Tommy asked, gesturing to Eddie. Then, something clicked in Tommy’s head as a smirk grew across his face. “I heard your dad cut you off. You making money from him?” Tommy shoved Steve’s shoulders, pushing him back against the wall. Hard. Steve felt his head hit the back of the brick building. Steve let out a gasp in pain. “You sucking his —“

Eddie had lunged forward, swinging his fist across Tommy’s face. His rings dug into his cheek, breaking skin. Tommy stumbled back. Eddie swung again. Tommy fell to the ground.

“Touch him again, Hagan,” Eddie spat. “I dare you.”

Tommy tried to stand up, Eddie shoved him back down. He wasn’t done.

“You lost him, Hagan,” Eddie snapped. “He’s never gonna like you like that. Go fuck yourself.”

Then, there were gentle hands on Steve.

“C’mon,” Eddie said softly, picking Steve up off the ground … When did he fall? The world felt like it was spinning and his only grounding touch was Eddie’s hand on his arm, guiding him in through the back door. A gentle hand came to the back of his head, with a slight hiss. “Shit.”

Steve was sat down at the breakroom, while Eddie grabbed paper towels from the bathroom. He pressed it against the back of Steve’s head, a slight sting was all Steve needed to know that Tommy broke skin.

“You with me, Stevie?” Eddie asked gently, kneeling down next to Eddie. His big brown eyes looking up at him with a look that made Steve feel whole.

“I’m with you,” Steve nodded, feeling Eddie keep pressure on the back of his head. “You’re with me.”

“I’m with you,” Eddie repeated gently. He brought his free hand to gently squeeze Steve’s thigh. “I’m with you for as long as you’ll let me.”

Then it hit him.

Steve loved Eddie.

He wanted to do everything he could do to protect Eddie. Fight off those who still believed in the rumors surrounding spring break, those who bullied him for being different, for being himself. Hell, Steve would fight a demogorgon for Eddie. He carried him through hell and back.

Eddie stood up for him. Eddie protected him from Tommy. Eddie fought back and won.

Maybe Eddie loved him, too.

Steve let himself fall into a carefree smile. He leaned his head, ever so gently until his and Eddie’s foreheads met. “For the record,” Steve said softly. “I’m never letting go.”

Eddie broke out into a grin. “That’s what I hoped for.”

#steddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #//myfics #steddielovemonth #I love the idea of Steve fighting for Eddie but I feel like Eddie should be allowed to throw a punch or two

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wardenparker · 8 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 2

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Blood consumption, mention of deceased family members, trauma responses by an abuse victim. Summary: Meeting your new roommates is an exercise in opposites. Notes: Introducing Max and Eddie! And a photo of the dining room to boot 🍷

Ch 1

It's a long day of getting lost in your own house when you finally venture out of your room later, and even though the house is large it is still inviting. That gray bedroom upstairs feels like it's meant for someone and you just can't put your finger on who. The statues in the marble hall beside the library seem to want to leap to life. Every book on every shelf is just begging to be read. Mrs. Taylor is kind enough to make you a light but delicious lunch and reminds you that you can do whatever you like in your own house when you sheepishly ask if it's okay to eat it in the library.

After spending about an hour in the evening walking around the grounds – all fourteen enormous acres of grounds – you come back inside to find a cup of hot cocoa waiting for you in your room and you park yourself very firmly on the chaise by the window just like Renee had suggested. Everything is quiet as the sun goes down, and only afterward do you hear movement elsewhere on the floor.

Eddie groans as he opens his door and drops the bag of books by the door. His professors are assholes and the classes are boring but he hates the idea of going to the advisors and changing his classes even more, so he's stuck for the next semester at least. "What a day." His comment is directed towards no one, he hadn't even sought out Mrs. Taylor or Renee when he got here. Wanting to just shut himself away and forget the tantalizing smell of human for a bit.

“I’m sorry?” You were standing in the hall when you heard the words, just a bare and exasperated sigh, but you’re more afraid of making one of these men angry by lurking around than you are of what they might say if you introduced yourself so you put your courage to the sticking place and knock on the door frame that you saw the young man head toward.

"Oh!" Eddie whirls around, and it's a moment before he tilts his head in confusion and curiosity. "I didn't know anyone else was up here." He admits, his long, lanky form folding in on itself in that awkward way that the youthful still carry until they are comfortable in their own bodies. Shooting you a self-deprecating grin, he shrugs. "Sorry."

“Don’t be. I’m the one who surprised you, not the other way around.” You’re only half visible at the corner of the door frame and – after a second of internal debate – step out fully into view and introduce yourself.

“Oh! You’re the new owner.” Eddie eyes light up and he rushes forward to greet you. Instead of shaking your hand, he pulls you into a brief hug, only remembering you know nothing about him when you stiffen immediately. “Sorry.”

"I just got here this morning." He seems friendly but you weren't expecting the hug at all and you freeze when he squeezes you. "Are you...um...Mrs. Taylor said the other residents were named Max and Eddie?"

“I’m Eddie.” He steps back and searches your face, aware that you are on edge and despite his youthful face, he’s older and more experienced than he appears. “Nice to meet you.”

"It's nice to meet you, too." At least, it is so far, and you have no intention of being rude. "Did you...know Ms. Brown very well?" It feels odd to call her your great-aunt considering you had no idea who she was before she died, so you'll stick to her name for now.

“Cookie? Yeah.” He smiles fondly at the thought of the old bird and chuckles. “I spent hours listening to her stories. She was a hoot.”

Renee seemed to have a similar reaction of nostalgia when asked about the previous owner, and that makes you relax a little. Obviously the people that surrounded her were glad to know her, which is a very good thing. "I wish I could have known her."

Eddie’s face falls slightly, remembering that you were never in contact with Cookie and why. He doesn’t know the complete story but he has just enough of an idea to be sorry about it. “I’m sure that you would have liked her.”

"I'm sorry," you fidget slightly and frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."

“You didn’t.” Eddie is jumping to reassure you. Not wanting you to feel bad about anything that was beyond your control. “Sooooooo…” he shoves his hands in his pockets. “How do you like it so far?”

"The house is beautiful." That is an understatement, but since you're sure he's just being polite to his new roommate you don't want to gush in detail. Instead you narrow it down to a single question. "That...that little house thing out on the grounds." It looked like a little cottage, with flowers carefully planted in specific patterns out in front and two statues of life-sized bunnies sitting sentinel at the opening of the brick wall. "Do you know what it is? Or...what it was used for?" You hadn't dared to go in, but ever since you walked away from it, you wish you had tried the doorknob.

"It used to be Cookie's teahouse." Eddie tells you, lighting up with a smile. "Do you want to go see?" He asks, motioning towards the window. "I can come with you. I spent a lot of time there with her when the weather was nice. She would love to sit out there and have tea and smell the flowers from the gardens."

"Would that be okay?" It's still all new to you – the idea that you actually own this place and aren't encroaching on someone else's space – and the question is automatic.

"Of course." Eddie senses that you aren't used to being allowed to do things, and he wants to frown, but he also doesn't want you to think that he's upset again. "We could have tea out there sometime if you like the place." He offers.

"That...actually sounds really nice." He's so friendly. And seems so normal. It's an enormous comfort after the upheaval of the last few days. "I don't want to step on anyone's toes or be in the way. But tea sounds really nice."

"How are you going to step on anyone's toes?" He asks incredulously. "You are the boss." That might not have sunk in for you, but Eddie is happy to remind you. He's not sure if Max would or not. "Come on, let's go adventure."

"You and Max have been living here for a while already." It doesn't matter that you don't know for sure about the ‘a while’ part, but you're certain they've been here longer than a single day and that gives them rank in your mind. Nevertheless, you let Eddie snag your arm and steer you back toward the great hall and the master stairwell.

"Max and I are actually pretty good roommates." He assures you. "We aren't loud, although we do stay up late. But we don't hold wild parties and act crazy."

"I usually stay up late, too." Never having been a morning person, you had tended to gravitate towards things that happened at night instead of in the brightest part of the day. Until Derek, of course. He had encouraged you to find something full-time with regular hours, and that had meant a 9-5. "Are you a student?" You had seen the Salve Regina University notebook on his desk when you looked into his room earlier, and there was a large bookbag in his room just now when you met him.

"I am." He groans quietly, rolling his eyes playfully as he looks over at you. "It's soooooo much fun." He complains. "No, it's not really bad, but I'm just in that slump that comes with hating all your classes one semester."

“I remember that.” You nod a little as you head down the stairs together. Now that you’ve walked around it a few times, the house is getting a little easier to navigate. “That was spring semester of sophomore year for me.”

It doesn't help that Eddie feels like he's been in school forever, but he nods. "So what is your favorite part?" He asks. "The house I mean."

“The library, I think.” It’s certainly the place you spent the most time today, besides your own room. “I can’t believe it actually has a ballroom, though.” The dark wood frames of the yellow floral furniture caught your eye every time you passed them today and always made you smile privately. “I can’t imagine it gets used much anymore.”

"It could be." Eddie chuckles. "I bet if you talked to the right people, that ballroom would be filled with people who want to pretend to be a part of the gilded age, or are just nosy." He hums. "Or just really like canapés."

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” It does make you smile though, the notion of a party that big, rather than being sad that you can’t think of a single person you would actually invite to it. Your only family were your parents and they died just before you started college. And any friends you made during that time stopped talking to you years ago.

"Friends will come out of the woodwork." Eddie does frown slightly at that, hoping that you aren't hurt by social climbers and people with less than honest intentions. He doesn't think that it would be allowed for long if he's honest. "Just make sure that you don't offer money to anyone."

“I’ll take your word for it.” He seems to be speaking from experience, or at least authority, and you nod. “So…can I ask how you knew Cookie? It’s just…I really know nothing about her and then she went and left me all of this. I wish I could have met her at least once.”

"Through my...father." He admits. "Adoptive." He shrugs slightly. "It's kind of hard to explain, but I've known Cookie since I was a kid." That's true in a manner of speaking. "She is the one who taught me my manners."

“Well, she did a very good job.” You won’t pry into his background at all. Families are always complicated. “It seems like manners were kind of her thing? Mrs. Taylor implied that, anyway.”

"Yes and no." Eddie grins again. "Manners were always important until it was time to be impolite." He intones seriously, quoting Cookie. "Be friendly to everyone, but prepare to tear them apart."

“Be friendly to everyone but prepare to tear them apart.” Repeating the quote paints a picture of a very interesting lady and you think back a little. “Sort of like… If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me, that Alice Roosevelt Longworth quote. They have the same energy.”

"Exactly." Eddie laughs and the two of you are out the front door of the house and down the steps to walk across the manicured lawn.

“Sounds like she was fun.” And for some reason that draws a pang of something like regret or longing from you.

"Hopefully we can provide you that same energy." He supplies with a smirk. "Or at least not annoy you."

“It takes a lot to annoy me.” If it didn’t, you can’t imagine what your life would have been like before now.

"I don't know." Eddie chuckles. "You haven't met us when we want to be weird." He teases, hoping to get a laugh out of you. You seem like you need to laugh more.

“Do your worst,” you challenge good naturedly, just wanting to put him at ease. He’s nice. Nice and normal. And you’ve been missing normal in your life.

“You asked for it.” He warns playfully. Leaning in, he drops his voice to a whisper. “I drink milk in my tea.”

Taken aback by yet more normalcy, you end up giggling along with Eddie as you walk through the grounds together. It’s after dark and the moon is bright tonight, shining down on the grass everywhere. It isn’t late yet, barely close to dinner time, but the moon is out. “I’ll never tell,” you promise him with a laugh. “Because I do, too.”

“Well damn.” He snaps his fingers in disappointment. “I was hoping to show you how odd I was.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a little harder than that,” you tease as the little teahouse comes into view.

“If you wanted to decorate this space, there’s furniture in the attic.” Eddie tells you. “Both in the main house and the carriage house.”

“No one would mind?” Again, your first instinct is permission.

His laughter is soft, not wanting you to feel foolish about your consideration of others. “No. I’ll help you move anything you want. And Renee would love to organize.”

“Maybe…” You tilt your head, glancing over at Eddie while you walk but refocusing when the little stucco teahouse comes up in front of you. It’s surrounded by a little brick wall and has little porthole windows and a cute, dark green door that you fell in love with immediately. “Maybe next time you have a day without classes?” You ask, not wanting to put him out but loving the idea of a space like this to make a sanctuary out of.

“I have half days on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” He pipes up. “And of course the weekends. No classes then. So ask for help whenever and I’ll give you a hand.” He reaches for the doorknob. “I’ve always imagined it as a witchy little cottage.”

It feels so much less proper than the house when Eddie opens the door to let you both in. Sure there is a little table covered with a lace doily, but the single light hanging from the ceiling and the mahogany and crimson velvet seats are all extremely gothic. It looks like something plucked out of an Anne Rice novel. “Oh…it’s perfect!” You sigh out immediately, the gut reaction to the space overwhelming you. Little shelves hold some books and photographs, and you pause with your fingers nearly touched a polished silver framed photo of a woman who looks like she’s in her fifties with a young girl in her lap. They look wonderfully happy, but something about it strikes you as odd. Not that you can put your finger on it, but it’s there all the same.

Eddie shuffles slightly as you study the picture. “So, uh, how do you like it?” He asks, rushing forward to open the little stove door that’s sitting in the corner. “She liked making her tea right here. Drove Mrs. Taylor crazy because she wanted to make it for her, but she would just cackle and send her back to the house for cookies and sandwiches.”

“It sounds like she was happy here.” Which is something that is becoming surprisingly important to you, the more you learn about this absent relative. “That makes it even better.”

"This is the spot that she met her soulmate." Eddie tells you. "At least, that's what she said." He doesn't know how much to tell you, so he keeps it vague. Knowing that things will be revealed to you later. When you've settled in.

“Right here?” You look around you, wondering if you are remembering wrong. You could have sworn the lawyer said her soulmate built the house for her. “Is…that why he built her the house?”

"Yes." Eddie shrugs slightly. "She didn't talk about it much. But she told me that one day when she was feeling nostalgic about the past."

“I think finding your soulmate is one of those things you’re supposed to feel a little nostalgic about forever.” Although that does make you shrug, and you shove your hands in your pockets as you pace around the small interior of the teahouse. “I’m guessing.”

Eddie just hums, unsure of what to say to that. He doesn't want press in case you have hard feelings about your soulmate. "What do you think about the space?"

“I think it’s cozy.” Looking around you, you can see the threads of a happy, comfortable life and feel a pang of longing… or maybe jealousy. Wishing you had your own soulmate to share all this with. Whoever they were, their marks had disappeared about four years ago. “And that if no one truly minds, I think I might like to spend some time out here while the weather is still good.”

"You can spend time wherever you wish." Eddie smiles. "When the weather is cold, I'll help you build up little fires in the stove." He promises. "You'd be amazed how warm it gets out here."

“I guess I should buy snow boots?” In Tennessee they were never necessary. “When does winter start around here?”

"Whenever it wants to." Eddie jokes with a laugh. "Don't worry. I think there are about five hundred pairs in the mud room."

“Hopefully we’ll have plenty of time.” It’s not even October yet and the crisp autumn air whips through the little room little a tease, bringing some fallen leaves with it.

"The days will be shorter soon." Eddie looks forward to it and he grins at you. "Do you like Halloween?" He asks curiously.

“Love it.” It lights you up from the inside, a mention of your favourite day of the year. Any mention of it. “It was a big thing in my house growing up so I kind of grew up into a horror moving loving, pumpkin spice drinking, vampire loving, spooky girl.” It hadn’t been Derek’s thing at all so you had been keeping it bottled up for years. Now that you’re on your own? Who knows. Maybe it’s time to start living like a ‘spooky bitch’ like your friends in college used to say. Like the witch your parents raised you to be.

"We should decorate the manor!" Eddie immediately grins, excited about the prospect. "It's the perfect backdrop for spooky shit."

“How would our third roommate feel about that?” You ask, knowing full well that not everyone is into Halloween.

"Max?" Eddie tilts his head and chuckles. "He'll love it. The cheesier the better."

******

The half hour or so you spend outside walking the grounds with Eddie is surprisingly calming. He's excitable and not pushy at all, ready to fill awkward silences with friendly babble until you stumble across another topic you both enjoy. When you meander back to the house you find a focused Mrs. Taylor setting the dinner table for three. "Ms. Brown served dinner precisely at seven o'clock," she tells you with an expectant look. "Will that be acceptable for you as well, ma'am?"

"Of course." Far be it from you to change a routine, especially one that you have no stake in. Before now you had been eating dinner at the exact moment Derek got home from work – no matter when that was. "Should we..." you look between Mrs. Taylor and Eddie uncertainly. "Are we expected to change?" Not that you have any nice clothes, but things are very traditional here...

"No." Eddie supplies that answer, knowing that if Mrs. Taylor had her way, she would have you changing into evening dresses. She was a stickler for propriety in some ways, even more than Ms. Brown. "We don't change for dinner."

"Just checking." Although for some reason it makes you feel stupid to have even asked, and you check your watch instead. "I'll be back in ten minutes and not a moment later, Mrs. Taylor. I promise." You'll trade your shoes for slippers and your jacket for a sweater, and be back downstairs in no time. Something tells you that the extremely proper housekeeper wouldn't like to be kept waiting for even five seconds.

Mrs. Taylor nods but Eddie is the one that answers. "Take your time." He assures you. "I want to talk to her about my protein shakes." He's already figured out that you will continuously ask permission and he wants you to feel comfortable here for your first dinner.

"How was she in the garden?" Mrs. Taylor asks, once you are out of sight and she can hear your feet creak on the stairs.

"Unsure of herself." Eddie tells her seriously, frowning slightly as he looks towards the stairs. "Scared. I don't think she's been treated very well."

"She's been skittish all day. I wasn't sure if it was nerves at first but it seems to be more than that." The older woman shakes her head sadly and goes back to carefully setting out drinking glasses on the table. No wine glasses, since you had said that you don't drink, but a goblet for water and a tall glass for the iced tea recipe she had dredged out from a party decades ago.

"She's been asking permission to do anything." He confirms. "Even doing anything with the teahouse." He shakes his head. "She owns this place is asking permission to go upstairs before dinner."

"It's not exactly subtle." The housekeeper agrees, moving on to the next place setting in her exacting way. "And when she told me that she doesn't drink alcohol, I could smell the fear on her." She tuts softly, shaking her head again and making sure that your place setting at the head of the table is perfect. "Poor thing."

“Max isn’t going to like that.” Eddie knows that Max likes to uphold a certain image. “Hopefully he’s not going to scare her too badly.”

"I guess we'll see." It certainly wouldn't be the first time that Max Phillips had scared a young lady inside this house, and she's certain it wouldn't be the last. "It'll probably bother him more than I won't be serving wine at dinner anymore. Not if the lady of the house isn't partaking."

“Yeah.” Eddie rolls his eyes and hopes that Max is on his best behavior tonight. If he’s not, the old man will be pissed.

“You know your father has asked for reports?” She raises one eyebrow in Eddie’s direction but continues her work studiously. In under two minutes, she’ll have to go back downstairs. “So he needs to be. I won’t lie for him.”

“That’s between him and the old man.” Eddie holds up his hands to signify he’s not getting in the middle of this. “I just wanted her to feel like she has a friend here.”

“That’s very good of you.” She’s always liked Eddie, and things like this are a good example of why. “I’ve got to go finish dinner. Will you intercept him at the door in case he’s forgotten what day it is?”

“On my way to stand guard.” He throws Mrs. Taylor a snappy salute and disappears towards the door even though he can hear Max’s car from a mile away.

******

The stone lions by the from door are a lasting part of the Victorian air of the house, and Eddie is sitting on the step between them when Max finally starts walking up from the carriage house. He swears that obnoxious sports car gets louder every day, but it’s probably just his perception. Eddie’s little car isn’t showy on purpose.

“Did Mrs. Taylor throw you out for not shining your shoes?” Max snorts as he walks up to the younger vampire. He straightens his tie and brushes off some lint from his suit. “Is she serving AB negative today?” He asks. “The positive upset my stomach the other day.”

Eddie sighs, shaking his head at his adoptive brother and pulling himself to his feet. “Max,” he huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “What day is today?”

“It’s…” Max frowns slightly. “Friday. There’s a big orgy tonight at the office. You wanna come?” His brows lift up, since he knows that isn’t Eddie’s scene. It’s not been his scene in a while too, if he’s honest.

“No.” The seemingly younger of the two shakes his head again. “No, I don’t want to come, but technically yes it is Friday. More importantly, though, it’s her first day here.”

“Shit.” The grin slides off Max’s face and he shakes his head. “She’s here? I didn’t think she would be here now. What the hell did she do? Jump in her car and race here to claim her inheritance?”

“I don’t think that’s quite it.” Eddie admits, though he hasn’t worked out all the details. “She’s not greedy or anything.”

He doubts that, but Eddie is always the glass half full type. “So what’s she like? Pretty? Nah, I don’t want you to tell me.” He grins. “Better to be surprised.”

“Be nice!” Eddie practically begs, knowing Max hardly ever is. “Mrs. Taylor and Renee already like her.”

“Great.” Max rolls his eyes, fully aware that Mrs. Taylor and Renee like adopting pet projects. So now he’s fully expecting some socially awkward wallflower who couldn’t interest a plastic bag to stir in a windstorm.

“And the old man is getting reports from Mrs. Taylor,” Eddie warns. “So be nice.”

Max rolls his eyes again. “When am I not nice?” He asks sarcastically.

“Literally always.” Eddie sighs as Max pushes past him into the house without another care in the world.

He doesn’t know why this is such a big deal. Humans aren’t interesting, at least not anymore. His priorities and attitude changing since that little incident four years ago. Cooling his jets here as a form of punishment ever since. “Honey, I’m home.” Max calls out loudly as he saunters into the house.

The sound of an unfamiliar voice echoing up through the atrium catches your attention, and a curl of dread rolls through you before you pull on your sweater and head back to the stairs. No one has given you any reason to dread and yet you can’t help it — worried that the so far manageable bubble of your new life will be punctured at any second. Nothing ever stays happy, or even pleasant, for too long. You pace out to the master stairwell and wrap your cardigan around yourself like a security blanket as you go down to the dining room. Don’t project. You’re overreacting before there is anything to react to…

The problem with Max Phillips is that he knows he’s cute, and because of that, he thinks he can get away with a lot. Partly because of being in that douchey frat boy stage when he was changed, and partly as a protective front he’s adopted. “What’s for dinner? I’m starved.” His chuckle rolls out behind his question, a little darker than normal.

“Hello?” From the stairs you can’t see Eddie or Mrs. Taylor anywhere, but it’s one minute until seven and you already know that Mrs. Taylor likes to be precise.

“Hello.” Max, despite what Eddie thinks, is polite. His version of polite. “Come on down and play.” He calls out teasingly.

“You…must be Max?” There’s something about him that unsettles you at first, until you turn the corner and find someone extremely handsome standing at the bottom of the stairs in a three-piece suit. This is your other roommate?

“The one and only.” He waggles his brows at you and winks. Looking you up and down and approving of what he’s seeing.

“I—it—it’s nice to meet you.” At the bottom of the stairs you can tell that he’s more physically imposing than he seemed from the platform, and your shoulders round in on themselves in response. Making yourself smaller is an automatic reflex that you don’t even notice anymore. “I’m Dolly.” Who knows why you do it. Why you introduce yourself with your nickname when you had been perfectly fine meeting Eddie with your own full name an hour ago. Who knows? But it’s that name that tumbles out of your mouth instead and that is that.

“Dolly?” His brows shoot up and his grin slowly stretches his face as he feels the need to tease you. “Yes you certainly are, sweet cheeks. Not nearly the boring little drab spinster I was imagining. Timid, but I don’t mind that.”

It might be the glee in his voice that makes you already wish you could take back the ‘nice’ part of ‘nice to meet you’, because you immediately feel like you’re on the defensive again. Like he’s a predator and you’re prey. Which is just a weird, uncomfortable thought to have immediately upon meeting someone, but you know without a doubt that if you try to get around him right now he’ll block your path. Instinct tells you so. “It’s just a nickname,” you murmur, unsure of what to do now and feeling that fight or flight instinct scratching at the back of your mind.

“It suits you.” He tells you, giving you his most charming smile as he steps closer to you. “How are you enjoying being here? Isn’t this house to die for?”

"It's very beautiful." That can't be denied, and you enjoyed looking around the grounds so much. "I think...it's..." you swallow and your eyes drop to the floor. "We should go in to dinner?"

“It’ll hold.” Max shrugs, unconcerned with that Mrs. Taylor would say. He leans in and inhales the sweet, cloying scent you are wearing, instantly addicted to it. “You smell delicious.” He groans. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s…just a spray…” No expensive bottled perfume has been in your bathroom since before your mother died, and you struggle to remember the name of the Bath & Body Works scent you have on with the clouding proximity of this intimidating man. “Vampire Blood? I think that’s what it’s called?”

“Mmmmmmhhhh, my favorite scent.” Max can’t help but lean in again, brushing his nose against your neck as he invades your personal space.

The way your pulse jumps at the touch has your whole body recoiling in response. Equal parts flight response and confusion are at war in you, and for a second you almost thought you enjoyed the touch. That’s impossible, you tell yourself sternly. Being touch starved and enjoying it are two different things.

Max leans back, resisting the urge to frown at the mixed signals your body is giving him. He can hear the way your heart sped up and smell the way your cunt reacted, but your body recoils like he is disgusting. Instead he grins and winks at you. “Shall we eat?” He asks.

“Sure.” The suggestion is welcome, and when he finally shifts aside to let you past, you move like lightning. Eddie is already in the dining room, chatting amiably with Renee as she pours cold drinks. The younger woman smiles when she catches sight of you and excuses herself to go downstairs, ready to tell Mrs. Taylor that everyone has assembled for dinner.

“Where’s the wine?” Max asks immediately, looking around at the lack of additional glasses.

“Dolly doesn’t drink.” Eddie answers immediately, having seen the discomfort in your eyes as soon as you walked in. “So Mrs. Taylor won’t be serving wine with dinner. Period.”

“Awwww really?” Max looks back at you and pouts, obviously unhappy at that news.

“I—” instantly coiling in on yourself again, you realize in the same second - to your horror - that both men have sat down on the sides of the table, putting you at the head. For a woman who has spent the last several years learning how to become part of the wallpaper, this is your worst nightmare. “I didn’t mean for everyone else to have to stop,” you murmur, although you know the smell of it will do awful things to your panicky self. Just because Derek drank too much doesn’t mean everyone else will…give them a chance to prove your fears wrong…

“No.” Eddie shakes his head adamantly and shoots Max a pointed glare. “We don’t have to drink.”

Max snorts, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t drink champagne?” He demands, waiting until you shake your head no. “No hot toddy when you’re sick? Or a little splash of Irish whiskey in your tea on a blistering day?”

“No.” His ability to make you feel small is uncanny and unwelcome, and your eyes cast down at the table. “Not anymore.”

“Pity.” Max throws you a faux pout and then looks over at Eddie. “So, how was your day?” He asks sing-songy. “Mine was great. I sold a ten-million-dollar contract on a bunch of shit.”

“Classes aren’t great,” Eddie shrugs and brushes it off, more concerned with the way that you implied there is a reason you don’t drink. Like something happened. “Spent some time out in the teahouse this afternoon. We talked about decorating for Halloween.”

“Halloween?” Max hums, looking around the room to see if Mrs. Taylor is having a stroke. “Good idea. Maybe we can have a haunted house.”

“Whatever the lady of the house decides.” Appearing as if from nowhere with the first course, Mrs. Taylor sets a plate of beef tartare with crostini in front of each of you. “Ms. Brown threw a very dignified masquerade ball in the autumn every year for decades.”

Max rolls his eyes and snorts. “When was the last time that happened?” He asks sarcastically.

“Not so long ago that I don’t remember.” Mrs. Taylor answers primly, neatly leaving out the fact that her memory stretches much longer than her appearance would make anyone think. “They were beautiful, those parties,” she hums before slipping out the door again.

“Boring.” Max huffs and taps his fingers on the table. “We should have it gothic spooky. Black candles and haunted rooms.” He grins. “Vampires.”

“If you think people would enjoy it…” The dish in front of you is familiar only in the sense that you can identify what it is from cooking shows, not that you’ve ever had it before. But you would never insult someone who has cooked for you by not eating what is served. “They’ll be your guests, not mine. All the people I know here are in this house.”

“I think that we should have a masquerade again.” Eddie interjects. “I am sure that all of society here would love to come to a ball.”

“Is there really society left?” It’s a genuine question, since you don’t know anything about this kind of life. For all you know, real rich people still eat seven course dinners and sending their kids to European boarding schools.

“I’m sure that it’s not what it once was, but yeah.” Eddie hums. Max nods. “Plenty of movers and shakers. If they know that this place is open for a party, they will come.”

“It’s something to consider, then.” A masquerade brings fantasies of dancing to mind for you, but they’re ones you’ll drown in privately. It’s been a lot of years since you danced, especially in a ballroom of any kind.

There’s a small silence as the conversation lulls. “Sooooo.” Max starts. “How about a toast?” He holds up his glass that doesn’t have wine. “To Cookie. Maybe there’s a point to bringing us all together that we can’t see right now.”

“If anybody had a plan up her sleeve, it was Cookie.” Eddie agrees, picking up his glass.

Whatever the point was or is, you can only hope it becomes apparent soon. But you raise your glass anyway, feeling like it’s the least you can do to toast the woman who left you everything and very literally changed your life. “I wish I could have met her,” you admit, a crack of a smile peeking through your expression. “But I’m very grateful for what she’s done.”

“I’m sure you are.” Max chuckles. “It’s not every day you’re given a mansion and a fortune. Got plans for it? Or still in shock?”

“I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said that I’m not the sort of person who dreams about being rich.” The first course of your dinner is only a few bites, but already you’re feeling like you won’t want more. The conversation has turned your stomach.

“Why not?” Max looks positively offended by the idea that someone wouldn’t dream of being rich. “Do what you want, when you want? Answer to no one? That’s the dream, baby.”

“For some people.” You nod, but only vaguely, knowing that you aren’t one of them. “And that’s fine. But not everyone wants to be king of the castle.”

“Queen.” Max pips up. When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles. “You’re obviously not a man, so you would be the queen of this castle.” He winks and smirks at you suggestively.

“But—” But you just said that was something that you did not want, so the feeling of being ignored and feeling stupid about it seeps deep into your bones like it has every other time before. “I—I guess. You’re…you’re right.”

“‘Course, I’m right, Dolly.” He hums in amusement. “Got an MBA in business. Hard not to be right.” There’s something vulnerable about you and he doesn’t know why he keeps pressing, but that douchey armor seems to be strong today and Max is a man who rolls with it rather than sitting and self-reflecting.

“Queen Dolly.” Eddie tries, trying to get Max to back the fuck off a little and you to at least smile. He feels weirdly protective of you since this afternoon. Like a big brother, even though he isn’t very protective of his actual adoptive siblings at all. They can all fend for themselves — it’s pretty obvious that you can’t or won’t for whatever reason.

“That’s a nickname.” Max grins. “Queenie. Yep. I like that.” He raises a brow at Eddie, as if challenging him as he looks back at your timid features. “All hail, Queenie. Ruler of the mansion.”

Instantly regretting saying anything, all Eddie can really do is shake his head. Once Max latches on to something there’s no going back. “That means you gotta listen to her,” he reminds Max pointedly.

“Oh I’ll be her subject.” Max chuckles dirtily. Even if he’s the one that likes to be in charge, he can pretend.

“That won’t be necessary.” As attractive as he might be, the lewdness and arrogance does nothing for you. Not anymore.

Rejection isn’t something that Max is unused to, but still, yours stings for some reason. That, more than any harsh looks from Eddie, makes him quiet down. Going silent through the rest of the course.

Mrs. Taylor re-emerges a few minutes later with plates laden down with filet mignon, cheesy potatoes gratin, and beautifully cooked broccoli rabe and sets one in front of each of you after clearing away the empty appetizer plates. You murmur your thanks, noticing that the steaks she set in front of both men are barely cooked, but that yours looks like it came straight out of a cookbook. Picture perfect. Not that you’ve had a steak in years, but it looks and smells amazing. All of a sudden your appetite is back, though you’re careful not to eat too quickly. This is far better food than you’re used to and you want to savor it.

“Oof.” Max winces slightly as he chews. “I think I pissed her off,” he grumbles. “She overcooked my steak.”

“Over—?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you clamp your mouth shut before you can speak even more out of turn.

“My steak is fine.” Eddie smirks. “Maybe you deserve to have your steak overcooked.”

When Max’s response is to pout, you look between the two men with curiosity. “Are you…family?” You ask, as politely as humanly possible while noticing the immensely familiar way they deal with each other. They must be brothers. Cousins, at least.

“Brothers.”

“Hell no.”

Both answers come out at the same time and each man turns to look at the other one before Max rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He sighs. “Brothers. He’s the younger, annoying at shit one. I’m the older, more handsome, more successful one.”

Eddie snorts, knowing full well that Max was only older when he was sired. As far as birth date goes, Eddie definitely has some years on Max. “Adoptive brothers,” Eddie explains, having already told you he had an adoptive father.

“Got it.” There it is. Brothers. You were right. “I was just curious.”

“Nothing wrong with being curious.” Max sincerely means that. He’s always been the curious type and he is curious about you. Cutting into his steak again, he prepares himself for the too done bite, wishing he had some wine to wash it down with.

“If we’re all going to live together I suppose we ought to get to know each other a little?” Although you could argue that you already know that you don’t think you like Max too much, your mother’s voice is in your head reminding you that it is important to give people the benefit of the doubt. You never know someone else’s story unless you take the time to get to know them.

Great, the conversation that Max doesn’t wish to have. “Nothing much to tell. Highly successful, kind of a stud.” He winks at you again. “Devilishly handsome of course.”

And an ego the size of the planet. It’s not exactly your favourite trait, and you smile weakly. “Are you from Rhode Island originally?”

“Hell no.” Max shakes his head and shrugs. “Michigan.”

“I’m from California,” Eddie offers, trying to make the conversation a little bit smoother. “Our family is varied. We’re from all over.”

You nod as if that makes all the sense in the world, even though you can’t figure out how a kid from Michigan got adopted by the same family as a kid from California. But maybe it’s none of your business. “I’m from Indiana,” you add, trying to be conversational. “Originally, I mean.”

“Yeah?” Max perks up at being in the same geographical area. “I would have assumed you were from Rhode Island.”

“Never been here before in my life.” Not that you can remember, anyway. You don’t think it was one of the vacations your family took when you were little. “I’ve lived in Indiana and Tennessee before this.”

“Why Tennessee?” Max ask, curling his nose slightly.

“College.” Even if the conversation is forced or even unpleasant, this food is amazing. You’re going to be writing Mrs. Taylor personalized thank you notes every single day if this is her standard cooking. And good food, apparently, lifts your mood. “It kind of happened by accident.”

“Like most things in life.” Max snorts. “Including me.”

“I…” You look between the brothers but Eddie is eating again and not terribly engaged. “Don’t think I understand?”

Max chuckles and holds up another bite of the steak. “I was an accident?” He says, his tone kind of questioning. “I’d have to ask my daddy.”

“Feel free to ignore him,” Eddie advises, shaking his head. “I usually do.”

“And that’s why you’re poor.” Max huffs. “Don’t take advice from him. He’s a college kid.” He makes a dismissive face. “What do college kids know?”

“Well, you seemed very proud of your degree.” You reason, looking between both men. College was some of the best and most formative years of your life, despite the hardship of having just lost your parents. “That means you must value what you learned in college quite a lot.”

You’ve got him there and he knows it. Opening his mouth for a sassy reply until he realizes he’s got no argument. Making him snap his mouth shut and eye you again. “You’re good.” He huffs, pointing his steak knife at you and shaking his head. “Gotta hand it to you.”

"My mother taught me never to criticize someone who was trying to better themself." Even mentioning her makes your voice a little smaller, but it's true.

“Sounds like she is wise woman.” Max hums. “Is she coming by soon?”

"She...died." You swallow the lump that appears instantly in your throat and look down at your empty plate. "Twelve years ago."

“Oh.” Max feels like a complete asshole. “I’m sorry.” He tells you quietly. Sincerely. “I lost my parents about eight years ago myself.” They weren’t dead but Max couldn’t have contact with them after he had become a vampire. However, it felt like they were gone. Especially since they hadn’t believed he hadn’t been guilty of academic dishonesty.

"I'm sorry to hear that." It's never easy to lose someone you're close to regardless of the circumstances. There is a lull of quiet at the table as Mrs. Taylor returns to sweep away the dinner plates and replace them with all with a dish of ice cold raspberry sorbet – or, what appears to you to be raspberry sorbet. You could never know from looking at the dishes that Max and Eddie's dessert is made with blood instead of raspberry puree.

“Best part of dinner.” Max groans, diving into the blood sorbet. You don’t know what it is and Mrs. Taylor would never mix up the dishes so both men are free to indulge. Eddie makes a noise of agreement as he also attacks the dessert. They usually have blood in their wine, so this is the first real taste of human blood they’ve had the entire meal.

“Mrs. T knows her stuff.” Eddie groans in approval. The housekeeper’s age-old trick of disguising the color and texture of blood to blend in with human food is well practiced at this point. “I take it this is a favourite?” It’s almost teasing, but after just one bite you understand. If this is homemade, that thank you note you were planning on writing Mrs. Taylor is going to become a raise in salary.

“Yessssssss.” Max is scraping the bowl for every drop and licking his spoon clean. “I could eat a gallon of it every night.” He snickers.

“Oh, positively.” Eddie agrees, making himself cackle at his own bad pun.

“I think it was ‘O’ tonight.” Max grins. “O-ficially, my favorite.”

Whatever the joke is goes right over your head but you smile anyway, wanting to be polite and not derail the end of the meal the way you had a few times earlier in the night. When he's not puffing up his chest with bravado, Max is okay to be around. So you just really want to keep things at an even keel.

“Well. I guess I’ll go scream into the abyss.” Max hums as he stands. “Dolly, it was interesting meeting you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” He smirks. “Probably over a midnight snack.”

Interesting. Interesting is never the adjective you want used to describe you in a first meeting, and your forced smile is even more strained than it would have been otherwise. Bidding both men good night, you stand from the table and make straight for the stairs — resolved not to leave your room at all tonight. And maybe to go looking for a job anyway, just to get out of the house for a little each day.

“What is the matter with you?” Eddie hisses, angry that Max made you uncomfortable.

“What?” He shrugs innocently. “She’s gotta get used to bold personalities if she’s gonna fit in here.”

“She doesn’t have to fit in,” Eddie reminds him with utter exasperation. “This is her house!”

“And we live here.” Max shoots back. “Not like I want to, he’s making me.”

“Because you fucked up.” Eddie reminds him, arms folded across his chest. “You let your fuss with Evan get the best of you and you got staked, so yeah. Punishment sucks, but you’re lucky Father was there to bring you back otherwise you would have been actually dead.”

Max rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and huffs. “Yeah. Lost every goddamn good scar and tattoo too. And he won’t let me put the tattoos back.”

“You still have your birthmark.” His brother-by-siring reminds him gently. “You can still find them if you want to.” Soulmates are a sticky wicket for vampires, but it isn’t an impossible feat. After all — they’re only mostly dead.

“It’s whoever is my soulmate’s birthmark.” Max tells him. “I have no marks on this new skin.”

“The fewer ways there are to identify us, the better. You know that,” Eddie reminds him gently. “But it’s good that you still have her mark. You can find her if you want to.” He has his suspicions, honestly. There are some moments that Max let’s his guard down and his squishy, sentimental interior peeks through.

Max snorts but there’s not the derision behind it that there would normally be. “She’s human.” He reminds Eddie, frowning for a moment. “Why would I want a human soulmate?” It’s not the real question he has and has had since he was changed, but it makes him seem less vulnerable.

“It worked for our Father and Cookie. It’s not impossible.” Shifting back in his chair to stand, Eddie shrugs. “Who knows? Don’t they say opposites attract?”

Max sighs, forcing the sound out of his useless lungs. “Yeah.” He grumbles.

“You gonna go back to the office for that orgy?” One raised eyebrow is all Eddie offers, but he knows Max pretty well at this point. And the wind has been sucked out of just sails pretty hard since he got home.

“Of course I’m going to go.” Max scoffs like there was never a question of him going. “You should come too. Seriously. You need to get out and get some.”

“I’ll pass.” That’s never been Eddie’s scene, even though that makes him unusual in the vampire community. “But have fun. And don’t make me an uncle.”

“Hard to do when all the little swimmers are dead.” Max snorts.

“No siring!” Eddie reminds him, but Max is already headed for the door.

“No promises!” Max cackles as he sails out the door and lets it slam shut behind him.

******

You can hear the door slam from your room, the sound echoing up through the atrium of the Great Hall and reverberating through the walls. The windows in your bedroom face the sloping grounds of the house but you would bet anything that that was Max who just left – off to do god knows what, and you don't even know why you care to think about it. All you can do is shake the thought from your head and hope it stays out. When that doesn't work you wander down to the library to snag a book from the shelf and tuck yourself under a blanket on the chaise in your bedroom next to the window for the rest of the night. A distraction – any distraction – is better than the racing thoughts that are a constant barrage in your mind.

The room is lit up, almost a beacon when Max returns. Barely an hour later. He had found that when he walked in the door, the orgy already started, he wasn’t interested. Which in turn, pissed him off. Why wasn’t he interested? Had been before that dinner and now the blood he had drank seems to roll in his stomach. Walking closer the house and seeing that someone – you – is perched in front of the window, absorbed in a book.

The movement in the shadows below you doesn't do a thing to break your concentration. For the first time in ages you have all the time in the world to do what you want, and what you want is to travel back to Thornfield Hall with Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester. Nothing and no one is here to stop you, and that is a beautiful kind of miracle. The cup of cocoa that Renee brought up to you before saying good night is long since empty and you've added a second blanket to your cozy little nest to keep out the chill, but it's perfect. Nothing could disturb you right now.

You look like a princess in a tower. Even with the hollow-eyed looks that Max had pretended weren’t from a lifetime of abuse. At who’s hands is a guess, but there’s something about you that screams ‘please don’t’ and he is curious as to why.

Remaining oblivious to being watched is a blessing tonight. You shift on the chaise and readjust your position, laying your head on the top of the seat and cradling the book in your arms like it's the most precious treasure in the world. Today has been...stranger than you ever could have imagined. But like this? You can actually begin to think of a future where this house might one day feel like home.

One of the magical, mystical things about being a vampire is the ability to transform. He could become any creature that he wanted, but his overwhelming sense of sarcastic irony meant that he would become a bat. His body changing within moments, without the poof of smoke like in the movies, and he flaps his wings to get a closer look.

With the window open beside you, you feel the change in the breeze before you see anything different. A faint difference in the way the wind is blowing catches your attention, but doesn't distract you. What distracts is when you look out at the small balcony at your full-length windows and see a bat sitting there watching you with gleaming eyes.

Most people would probably be freaked out. Maybe even scream or recoil, or at least be startled. But you've always been a little bit more predisposed to things the world considers spooky than most, so you smile instead. If Disney princesses attract songbirds and wild forest animals, then you're surely just a Goth Disney Princess with a bat finding its way to your window instead of a cardinal or blue jay. "Hey cutie." You grin over at the little creature. "You live here too? Maybe in the attic or one of those big beech trees out back? I bet you do."

He’s surprised that you aren’t terrified of him. Most women would never talk to a bat but he finds it charming. He hops up onto the window ledge and flaps his wings, letting out a soft sound.

"You squeakin' at me, cutie?" Laughing softly, you briefly debate how bad of an idea it would be to let the little thing inside or even let it close to you. Bats carry diseases, don't they? Somehow you just can't bring yourself to care too much. This little buddy is too sweet.

He should be indignant that you, a mere human, isn’t terrified of him, but he flaps his wings again and decides that he will see how sturdy your resolve is. Taking flight, he circles your head twice before landing on your shoulder.

"Look who's a brave boy," you find yourself cooing to a creature that every single friend you've ever had would shriek at the actual presence of. The fact is, unless this little bat does something to harm you? It's just existing. Just trying to get by in a world that isn't necessarily always friendly towards creatures that aren't the most attractive or the most useful. And that...hits disturbingly close to home for you right now. "You wanna stay up there, cutie? Or do you want a little bed to snuggle up in?" Do bats snuggle? Who the fuck knows. But you still carve out a divot for it in your throw blankets all the same.

The fact that you are creating a little space in your lap for him making him smirk and trill. He doesn’t fly this time. He hops down your arm with the long, slow walk of the bats as they move over tree branches.

"Look at you!" The way you squeak in delight is almost the same as the little bat's sounds -- which you have to imagine are happy sounds. They sound happy, at least. "You want me to read to you, cutie? A little story time even though you have no idea what I'm saying?" You never thought the day would come that you wanted to pet a bat, but here you are. The little guy is just too stinkin' cute.

He trills again, grinning at how adorably you light up at his current form. None of the rounded shoulders and shy persona. He stomps around the little spot you made for him and folds his wings back as he stares up at you.

"Well go on, snuggle up." Somehow you could swear that this little bat can understand you, and it's the most peculiar thing in the world because you're not scared at all. Not even the smallest amount of apprehension in the back of your mind is there to cloud your enjoyment of this odd little moment. When the little sweetheart plops down in the middle of the nest that you made for him, you pick up your book rather dramatically and clear your throat. "It's called Jane Eyre," you explain to the bat, amused at the whimsy of the moment.

Of course you would read Jane Eyre. Max would roll his eyes in his human form but he just blinks and settles down into the little space you made him. It’s pretty nice to have someone not swat at him, or scream. He coos, wishing that you would pet him. That would make this even better.

"Let's see..." Finding your place on the page, you hum to yourself and settle in again with your back resting against the comfortably upholstered chaise lounge. "...a message came that I and Adele were to go downstairs. I brushed Adele’s hair and made her neat, and having ascertained that I was myself in my usual Quaker trim, where there was nothing to retouch — all being too close and plain, braided locks included, to admit of disarrangement — we descended, Adele wondering whether the petit coffre was at length come; for, owing to some mistake, its arrival had hitherto been delayed. She was gratified: there it stood, a little carton, on the table when we entered the dining-room. She appeared to know it by instinct." As you read, letting the feeling and comfort of the cool breeze wash over you and your new little friend, the fingers of your free hand find the bat's soft little head instinctively. So what if bats have diseases? You decide about three seconds after first stroking its little head. They're so soft and snuggly. I'll take antibiotics, but I'm keeping my little friend.

He’s almost surprised when you touch him and in the bat’s form, your fingers feel larger, yet they are gentle. Immediately pulling a sound that could only be described as pure pleasure out of him as his head moves towards your hand for more contact.

“Awwe, you like that?” It reminds you of the cat you had growing up, the way the little bat nudges into your touch, and you automatically open up your hand a little more to let it get comfortable for more scratches and pets as you continue reading.

Max could get used to this. Finding the relaxed and almost giggling persona of yours charming as you pet a bat. And the scratches he’s getting is like his own little personal massage. You obviously find bats to be cute and he doesn’t mind the reading so much now that you are petting him. Trilling and almost purring for you.

Sitting and reading a gothic romance novel to a bat might be the most edgy teen girl thing you’ve done in a hell of a long time, but before you know it the book in your hand is heavy and so are your eyelids. Who knows when it got to be so late, or when you got to be so tired, but falling asleep beside the open window with a happy little bat in your lap and an open book on your chest is the most contented you’ve felt in years.

Max listens to your heartbeat. Slow and steady in your chest. Nearly half as slow as when you are awake. Telling him that you have entered the dream world if you dream. He flutters his wings and moves off of you before he changes back to his human form. Staring down at you in confusion and contentment. It was the oddest evening he’s had in a long time, but probably the most satisfying. Defining you can’t sleep on the chaise, he uses the infinite strength of his kind to carefully scoop you up into his arms to carry you the fifteen feet to your bed. Tucking you in and watching you curl onto your side as he covers you up. Closing the window, he glances at you again before stealing out of your bedroom to make his way to his own, wondering if you will remember tonight when you wake up.

______

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mvltixcc · 4 months

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Girls Like Girls - Robin Buckley X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: Robin has a crush on the new girl in town. Y/N is also a new member of the cheer squad, which means Robin sees her all the time at games and other school events. Unfortunately, Robin is put in a tough situation. She's scared to talk to her because the cheerleaders have a reputation of being mean girls and she fears that Y/N may not feel the same. Little does Robin know that Y/N does not appear as she seems. Y/N becomes best friends with Eddie, which seems unlikely at the surface due to different social circles. This leads to rumors of course and word spreads like wildfire here at Hawkins, which then makes Robin's feelings even more confusing. After hanging out with Steve and the gang, Robin starts to see a different side to Y/N. Will they end up together or will they just remain friends?

Word Count: 2.7k

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Chapter 3

After that night Robin couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time she thought about how sweet you were to her, she couldn’t help but get butterflies in her stomach. She liked the warm fuzzy feeling you gave her. Had she really misjudged you? Deep down Robin knew that Steve was right when he said that you weren’t mean and scary. But she would never tell Steve that though, he’d never live it down.

Some time had passed since Robin and Y/N’s last interaction with one another. They saw each other in the halls and would exchange waves and smiles. It was unfortunate, but they both became super busy with practice as it was football season. At least Robin got to see you there and she took what she could get. In her mind she felt like you weren’t just cheering for the guys, but also for her too and that alone brought her comfort.

“Have you talked with her yet?” Steve asked as he was cleaning the front windows. He had been nagging about Robin talking to Y/N for weeks since their moment in the store.

“No, now will you stop asking me that! There have been more important things happening in my life, like the football games!” Robin states.

“Yeah, which she’s also been at, might I add!”. Steve added.

“Not helping!” Robin responded.

“You know to me it seems like you’re avoiding her.” Steve said sarcastically. Robin rolled her eyes and went back to work. Maybe she was avoiding you, she feared you would reject her and that terrified her. “Well good thing for you, now is your chance.” Steve stated as he pointed to the door. Robin looked in that direction and saw you about to walk in.

“Oh god, how do I look?” Robin said as she began to frantically fix her hair and brush off her clothes. She wanted to look nice for you, she didn’t want to appear to be a mess, even if she was one half of the time.

“You look fine, don’t be nervous.” Steve remarked as he tapped his friend on the shoulder.

“Wow I’m totally cured and not even more nervous at all!” Robin exclaimed sarcastically.

“Hey stranger! It’s been a minute since you’ve been by, thought you might have forgotten us or something.” Steve joked as you walked in.

“No no no, I could never forget you guys!” Y/N chuckled and gave Robin a wink. That sent her into overdrive. If her face wasn’t looking like a tomato before, it surely was now.

“What do you need? That sounded rude, oh god I'm sorry! I just mean do you need uh- help with finding a movie or something.” Robin rambled as you headed toward the counter.

“It’s okay!” Y/N giggled. “I’m actually here for a job interview! With football season coming to an end, I need something to do so I figured I’d look around for a job.” She smiled. The thought of you working there with Robin was enough to make her pass out. She would be able to see you everyday and she had no idea how to handle that.

“That’s um- neato.” Robin stated awkwardly. There was a brief moment of silence before Keith had called you in the back to be interviewed. “Well I’ll see you guys in a bit, wish me luck!” You said walking away from the pair of friends.

“Neato? What the hell is wrong with you Buckley, get it together!” Steve proclaimed.

“I don’t know I got nervous and you know what happens when I get nervous!” Robin said, panicking.

“Yeah I’m well aware of what happens.” Steve joked.

“Oh god what am I gonna do if she gets the job?” Robin stated, still panicking.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe talk to her and tell her how you feel?” He remarked.

“You’re not helping Harrington!” She replied, now pacing back and forth.

Some time had passed before you had walked out from being interviewed. “Alright fine you want my help? Watch this.” Steve said, setting down the items in his hand. “Hey you, how did the interview go?” Steve asked as you made your way back to the two of them.

“I think it went well considering I got the job!” Y/N cheered.

“That's great! So listen, I’m having a little Halloween party at my place next Friday and Robin here was wondering if you'd like to go with her?” Steve conveyed as he pointed to Robin, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Wait really, you want me to go with you?” You questioned. Robin gulped hard. It was now or never and she had to face it head on. ‘Thanks a lot Harrington.’ She thought to herself.

“Oh um yeah yeah totally, it’d be super fun if we went to this party together.” She said with nervousness seeping into her voice. Robin hated how hard this was for her. “I totally understand if you don’t want to-”

“I'd love to go with you!” You interrupted. “Are we dressing up? Ooooo maybe we could dress up together or something, that would be so cool!” You said with excitement. Your eyes lit up as you continued on, which caused Robin’s cheeks to flush once again.

“That would be great! We’ll see you then!” Steve said with pride. You all waved your goodbyes and as soon as you had left, Robin gave a smack to the back of Steve’s head.

“Ow! Is that any way to thank your friend after scoring you a date?!” Steve exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head.

“You could have at least given me a heads up that you were gonna do that dingus!” Robin groaned.

“Well excuse me for trying to help a friend. Maybe a little thank you would be nice.” He said.

“Yeah I’m not thanking you just yet Harrington.” She chuckled. What had Steve gotten her into?

It was finally the day of the party and to say that Robin was a mess would be an understatement. She had so many thoughts running through her head and all she could really feel was fear. Robin had thought about canceling because it would be better than the alternative. As she got lost in her nervousness, she saw that Y/N was approaching you with a slight skip in your step. “Hey hey hey, I’m so excited for tonight! We’re gonna look so amazing! You have your costume right?” You asked.

“Yeah yeah I uh have it.” Robin assured, clearing her throat. Y/N let out a sigh of relief. They finished planning out any last minute details and departed as the bell rang for first period. “Well I’ll see you later Robin!” And with that you walked away with that same cute little skip in your step.

Robin made her way to her first class and sat in her seat. She felt a little at ease after the conversation she had had with you. She started to daydream of how the night would go, but was soon interrupted.

“So, Y/N tells me that you and her are going to Harrington’s party tonight?” Eddie inquired, leaning over to her.

“Hello to you too Munson, and for your information yes we are going together. What about it?” Robin stated with a rather blunt tone. She didn’t want anyone, not even Eddie to ruin this night for her. He looked taken aback from her comment.

“Hey hey, I come in peace!” He said, raising his arms up. “I just want you to look out for her is all. She doesn’t usually go to parties like this and is only going because you invited her. It’s also her favorite holiday and I don't want it to be ruined for her.” Eddie stated sincerely.

Robin just stared at him for a moment before speaking. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll make sure she’s okay.” She had no idea you were only going because she invited you. Well Steve asked, but that's besides the point. Eddie nodded to Robin and went back to his seat. She was now determined to make sure you both had a good time tonight.

Robin had waited out front for Y/N to arrive at the party, she had already been there helping Steve set up. She could see Eddie’s van coming down the road and soon pulled up to the front yard. Robin stood from where she sat on the steps and made her way toward the van. You excitedly opened the door and jumped out to hug Robin. She was so caught off guard she almost forgot to hug you back.

“Robin, look at you, you look so pretty!” Y/N said, pulling away from the hug and getting a good look at the girl in front of her. Robin could feel herself turning crimson. She wasn’t expecting to hear that from you. “I um, oh thank you.” She replied nervously. “You also look uh pretty.” She couldn’t help but stare at you in awe. You wore a simple black slip dress with some knee high socks and tall boots. She thought you looked beautiful. You thanked her for the compliment. Robin could see the blush creep upon your cheeks, which caused her stomach to do flips.

“I almost forgot!” Y/N said, turning back to the van and grabbing something from the front seat. “Our hats!” You said with excitement. You both had decided on being witches, it was super easy to find everything considering this was all last minute for the both of you. You put your hat on and helped Robin with hers shortly after. While you began to move bits of hair out of Robin’s face, she couldn't help but stare into your eyes. The way your (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled into the moonlight, she was mesmerized. You were so beautiful.

“There, all better!” You said. You turned to Eddie and waved goodbye and soon he was off. “Ready to party?” You asked. Robin nodded and you both made your way inside. There was a good amount of people there already, the music was going and people seemed to be having a good time. The both of you had been dancing and laughing. Robin really enjoyed your company. She was happy that she didn’t cancel. Steve had pulled you both aside and took a picture with his polaroid. Soon after the picture was taken you had excused yourself to use the restroom.

“Soooo are you having a good time or what?” Steve joked.

“Okay okay, I’m having a good time. You were right or whatever.” Robin had rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“See I told you you would!” He was happy for his friend, she deserved this after everything she had gone through months prior.

Their conversation was soon interrupted by the jocks making their arrival known and Chrissy coming up to the two of them.

“Wow Buckley, I’m surprised to see you here!” She said with her usual sarcasm.

“Why is that a surprise? Steve is my friend, you know.” Robin replied with annoyance.

“Oh well because you're at the bottom of the food chain. You really think you can hang out with people like us? Ha, that’s pathetic.” By this point people had been watching this spectacle go down, which only made it worse as it fuels Chrissy’s behavior.

“Why do you care so much?” Robin questioned. She didn’t understand why it bothered her so much what she did. Robin never did anything to the cheerleader, at least to her knowledge.

“Because there’s an order at this school and you my dear, need to be put in your place!” Chrissy said as she threw her drink onto Robin. The party grew silent.

“What the shit Chrissy?! Robin, are you okay??” You asked standing in front of her trying to block people from looking at the scene ahead of them. Chrissy laughed as you attended to Robin. Robin with tears in her eyes, shook her head. “Let's go upstairs and get you cleaned up.” Y/N suggested. The party continued on as you brought her up to the bathroom to get washed up.

“I’m so sorry about her.” Y/N apologized, helping her clean off of her dress.

“It’s fine, I should be used to this right?” Robin sniffled.

“Hey look at me.” You said, putting your hand to Robin’s face so she could look at you. “It’s not fine. What she did was awful, you don't deserve to be treated that way by her or anyone else for that matter. You’re so special and kind Robin, don’t you ever forget that okay?” You said with sincerity, rubbing your thumb on her cheek. You flashed her a warm smile and she smiled back. Still holding her face, you gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Stay right here for me okay?” You requested and Robin nodded. Y/N had left the bathroom for a moment and Robin was unsure why. Before she knew it, Y/N had returned from whatever you were doing. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.” Y/N stated grabbing Robin’s hand and heading downstairs.

“Oh god now what is this mess?!” Chrissy exclaimed as you and Robin made it back to the crowd of people. You turned around to face her.

“Just drop it okay, we’re going.” You said, trying not to make the situation worse. By this point there was nothing but silence. The music had stopped and everyone was looking on at the disaster before them.

Chrissy chuckled. “You think you’re so special huh? Befriending the losers of this town? Well let me tell you something, you’re not! First it was the town satanist freak, I mean I thought that maybe it would be a little phase because he was the first person you met here. But now this, the dorky band girl? I mean come one how low can you go at this point?! You really need to-”

“You know Chrissy, you of all people you should know not to judge a person before getting to know them. I’m also only going to say this once so you better listen well, don’t you EVER talk about my friends like that again. And quite frankly the only thing I need to do is take my friend home and get the hell away from you! Come on Robin, let's go.” Still holding onto Robin, you both make your way to the front door.

“If you walk out that door, then you’re off the team!” Chrissy yelled over the crowd. You stopped in your tracks, Robin giving you a sympathetic look letting go of your hand. She knew how this was gonna go down. ‘It was fun while it lasted’ she thought.

“You can’t kick me off the squad.” You say turning to face the head cheerleader.

“Oh yeah and why is that?” Chrissy humored the girl.

“Because I quit.” Y/N announced as she took Robin’s hand again and walked out the front door. Eddie had pulled up with his van just in time. You both climbed into the van and soon you were off. “Let’s get you home.” You said, still holding onto her hand.

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