munson-enthusiast

[munson-enthusiast]

…And Leave You With Nothing

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F! Reader (18+)

Content Warning: Emotional distress, toxic relationship dynamics, verbal conflict, mild physical aggression, manipulation, jealousy, intense arguments, physical violence, fighting, blood/injury, aggression, and cringe fest 😜.

Summary: Eddie is willing to do anything to talk with you.

A/N: divider by @saradika-graphics !!!

Tags 🏷️ : @somethingvicked @prideandaesthetic

The air felt especially fresh tonight, crisp enough to make you take a deep breath and tug your coat just a little closer. Robin’s dad dropped you off at the curb, giving you a quick nod before driving off into the night. You’d been promising yourself to offer him gas money soon. Between him and Steve shuttling you to and from work, it was starting to feel like a debt you needed to pay—not that you ever asked for help. You sigh, reaching into your bag for your keys, when a familiar sound—a soft throat clear—makes you freeze.

It’s him.

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice is low, almost tentative. He rises from the shadowed bench outside your house, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets as he takes a few cautious steps toward you.

You don’t even think before you turn on your heel, making a swift move to walk the other way, but his hand catches your wrist, just firm enough to hold you still. “What are you gonna do, go for a midnight stroll?” he scoffs. “You realize how dangerous and stupid that is, right?”

You wrench your arm back, shooting him a glare that could cut glass. “You know what’s really stupid, Eddie? Trusting someone who swore up and down that I had nothing to worry about.” Your voice shakes, and you hate that it does.

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. “Look, it’s… it’s not what you think. Can we please just talk?”

“I think we’re done talking,” you say sharply, brushing past him with a shoulder-check that would knock anyone else off balance.

“Babe, come on!” He calls after you, his voice laced with desperation, but it only spurs you to keep moving.

Finally, your fingers close around your keys, and you unlock the door, stepping just inside. Turning one last time, you lock eyes with him, and for a moment, he looks like he’s ready to say something—something that might change everything. But you won’t give him that chance.

“I expect my things back tomorrow,” you say, voice cold and final. “I’ll have yours ready too.”

And then you close the door, shutting him and his excuses out into the night.

—

“No way!” Steve exclaims, barely pausing to swallow a mouthful of pizza, his eyes wide with shock.

“I wish I was joking!” You take a sip of your soda, feeling the exhaustion of recounting it all.

You and Steve are on break, sitting in the food court, the noise of other diners humming around you. You’ve just filled him in on what happened last night. After you left Eddie standing outside, you expected him to go home. Instead, he’d stayed on your porch all night, waiting. This morning, he’d been at your door again, relentless in his attempts to talk to you, practically holding you hostage in your own house. Eventually, your mother, exasperated and protective, had called Chief Hopper, who came over to convince Eddie to leave before he wound up getting charged with trespassing.

“So, you’re like...really done with him?” Steve’s voice is cautious, as though testing the waters.

You let out a heavy sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “I have to be. He paraded Roxanne around just to get under my skin, and then he…” Your voice trails off, a lump forming in your throat. Steve’s hand reaches out, his warm palm resting on yours in a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You manage a small smile, even as a single tear slips down your cheek.

“Let’s get back,” you say softly, brushing the tear away. “Robin’s probably itching to take her break.”

The two of you toss your trash and make your way back to Scoops. As you approach, raised voices from inside catch your attention. You exchange a glance with Steve, and without a word, you both quicken your pace, pushing through the door.

Inside, Robin stands, arms crossed and eyes blazing, trying to block Eddie from heading to the back. “Eddie, I’m warning you,” she says firmly, “leave now, or I’m calling security.”

Eddie only laughs, defiant and almost unhinged. “Hopper couldn’t even keep me away,” he taunts, his gaze flicking over Robin’s shoulder. “You really think some mall security is gonna stop me? I know she’s here, Buckley—just let me talk to her. Please.”

“You’re not talking to anyone. You’re done here.” The sudden edge in Steve’s voice makes everyone turn. You’re surprised at the shift in his tone; it’s protective, firm, and completely unlike his usual laid-back demeanor. Slowly, he steps toward Eddie, eyes locked on him.

Eddie narrows his gaze, jaw tight. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice doesn’t waver, his stare unbreaking.

Eddie lets out a low chuckle, running his tongue along the front of his teeth with a smirk. “I was wondering when you’d finally grow a pair, Harrington.”

Robin scrunches her face in disgust. “Ugh, can we not do this? This isn’t the school playground.” But her words are lost on them as they continue their stare-down, neither one backing down.

“You should leave, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice low, almost daring him to stay.

Eddie tilts his head, accepting the challenge. “And if I don’t?”

Before things can escalate further, you step forward, placing a gentle hand on Steve’s arm. “Steve, please don’t,” you murmur, trying to defuse the tension. “Come on, just leave it alone.”

Steve’s expression softens the moment he feels your hand, glancing back at you with concern. But the sight only fuels Eddie’s frustration. His eyes darken as an idea takes root, and he sneers.

“Oh, I get it now,” Eddie says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve always had a thing for my girl, haven’t you, Harrington? Now that I’m out of the picture, you’re swooping in, playing the knight in shining armor. Trying to compensate for the fact that Nancy dumped you? What was it, huh?” His words turn venomous. “She saw what you were really packing and decided it wasn’t enough, so she ran to Jonathan—”

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to finish. With a flash of movement, Steve’s fist connects with Eddie’s face, the punch landing with a force that sends them both crashing to the floor. In seconds, they’re locked in a furious grapple, fists swinging as they roll across the tile. You and Robin rush in, frantically trying to pull them apart, but their anger has them locked together, fists and insults flying.

It takes a few bystanders stepping in to finally separate them. Two hold Steve back while Eddie sits slumped on the floor, blood trickling from his nose, staining his shirt.

You quickly take Eddie’s arm, helping him up. “Come on,” you say quietly, guiding him toward the bathroom to clean him up.

—

“Sit,” you say firmly, your voice leaving no room for argument.

“But—” Eddie starts, wincing slightly.

“Now!” You cut him off, your gaze sharp.

Reluctantly, Eddie sinks down onto the closed toilet lid, his eyes never leaving you as you grab a handful of rough brown paper towels and wet them under the faucet. Turning back, you tilt his chin up with a gentler touch than he probably deserves, dabbing the tissue against his bleeding nose. Eddie swallows, his hands hovering near your thighs, close but not quite touching—he doesn’t dare. One wrong move, and he knows he’ll lose whatever sliver of goodwill he might still have.

You glare down at him, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Stupid. That was so stupid. What the hell were you thinking?”

His eyes soften, the bravado slipping for just a moment. “I was trying to get your attention,” he murmurs, looking up at you almost pleadingly.

You let out a harsh scoff, ripping the tissue from his nose and tossing it into the trash. “If you wanted my attention, maybe you should’ve just made out with your new girlfriend in front of me again. That seemed to work pretty well.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, and he stands up abruptly, fists clenched. “I didn’t kiss her!” he protests, the words laced with frustration.

You step back, crossing your arms, disbelief etched into your face. “I know what a kiss looks like, Eddie. I’m not stupid! If you wanted to be with her so badly, you could’ve at least had the decency to break up with me instead of stringing me along for three years!”

You turn, hand reaching for the door, ready to storm out. But before you can leave, Eddie steps forward, pressing his hand against the door to hold it shut, blocking your exit.

“God, do you even hear yourself right now?” he snaps, his voice raw. “If I didn’t want to be with you, don’t you think I would’ve walked away long before now?”

You cross your arms tighter, your eyes narrowing. “Then why were you so quick to go running back to Roxy, huh? Why were you so eager to spend all that time with her?”

“Because—”

“Because nothing, Eddie!” you cut him off, voice thick with hurt. “You wanted her all along, didn’t you?”

His patience finally shatters. He slams his hands on either side of the door, trapping you between him and the cold, unyielding wood. His face is inches from yours, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation.

“Would you just listen to me, you stubborn woman,” he hisses, voice rough and raw with desperation. “I’ll admit it was stupid—hanging around her, trying to make you jealous. It was a stupid, pathetic move to get your attention. But I don’t have feelings for her. I never have, and I never will.”

Before you can react, his hands reach up, gently but firmly cradling your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are intense, every word dripping with sincerity. “I love you. I will always be in love with you. I fucking regret everything that led us here. If I could take it back, I would.”

A lump forms in your throat, and you whisper, “Eddie…”

His grip softens, and he leans in, his forehead nearly brushing yours, his voice barely a breath. “I don’t want to lose you. Please.”

But as his face inches closer, you feel the weight of the hurt that’s been building up. With a quick move, you slip out of his grasp, his hands falling away as you step back and push open the door. Without looking back, you walk out, leaving him standing alone.

A muffled, frustrated shout echoes behind you as Eddie slams his hand against the metal tissue dispenser, the impact ringing out in the empty bathroom.

[munson-enthusiast]

BAD LUCK⚡️PT 3 | Best Friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Things get a little strange and at first it’s all fun and games until you start to wonder if maybe things have gone too far…

WC: ~7.2k

Warnings: Angst, misunderstandings, reader has poor self-image, swearing, occult themes, hexes/curses, witchcraft, blood, injury, skin issues/hair loss, jealousy, possessive behavior, smut, piv sex, one spank, spitting, dark-ish!reader, everyone is 21+ 18+ ONLY MDNI

SERIES MASTERLIST

Georgina Banks was a lot of things, depending on who you asked.

To the many people of Hawkins who had fallen under her spell, she was the epitome of elegance and grace. And for years you’d watched admirers vie for crumbs of her attention while she walked all over them like dirt beneath her heels.

But not everyone loved her.

Her ruthless reign as Queen of Hawkins hadn’t been without its battles, and over the years she’d left a lengthy trail of victims in her wake. To them, she was a vile and unrepentant bully who hid her true nature — an insincere and duplicitous snake.

To you, she was your ex-best friend, cruel traitor and destroyer of lives.

She was also an unenthusiastic and reluctant witch, at least according to her mother.

The art of magic and witchcraft had been in Georgina’s family for generations, but she’d never had any interest in its practice. To her it was all just a bunch of ridiculous hocus-pocus that would take too much time away from her real interests, like makeup and shopping.

Ever since she was a child, her mother had tried to impress upon her the importance of her unique inherited gifts, repeating over and over until she was practically blue in the face that their family would never have reached their lofty status without the aide of magic.

Blah, blah, blah. So fucking boring.

Georgina had heard the same tired stories at least a million times.

Allegedly her great-great grandmother, Beatrix, had been an actual, real life witch who was respected and feared by the people of Hawkins in her day. She’d been so infamous that there were even books written about her, or at least that’s what Georgina had been told — she couldn’t actually be bothered to read them.

Legend had it that in the process of some misguided necromancy, Beatrix had managed to really piss off some evil spirits and gotten herself cursed.

In order to combat the dark magic, she had enchanted an amulet for protection and then passed it on to her eldest daughter for good luck; a tradition that continued over the years until the necklace found itself wrapped around the perfect neck of Georgina Banks on her thirteenth birthday — the combined gift of protection and a charmed life.

Such a crock of shit.

It was insulting. Was Georgina really expected to believe that a stupid spell, a necklace of all things, was the reason life always worked out in her favour? Sure, she got everything she wanted but that was because she was special — a rare beauty, brilliant scholar and natural born leader. As far as she was concerned none of that was because of some tacky old hunk of metal.

Yes, one time when she was younger and dared to leave the house without it, she’d been injured when a tree branch was struck by lightning and fell on her head — a total freak accident.

But as her mother had tearfully scolded her in the hospital’s emergency department, Georgina had promised to wear it from then on, no matter what.

And she had. Faithfully. To her surprise, over time she even discovered that if she held onto it and wished really hard for things, they sometimes came true. Like you.

Before you had moved to Hawkins, Georgina’s friends had been a challenge, always competing with her for attention and fighting against her controlling ways. Frustrated by their behavior, she’d constantly wished for the ideal friend and then one day you had appeared, and you were perfect.

You never challenged her authority and rarely spoke your mind, seemingly content to go along with everything she said. Sure, you were a bit boring and lacking in pizzazz but Georgina liked to think of you as a useless lump of clay that she could mould and shape according to her whims.

She wore you down, slowly chipping away at your sense of self-worth until she had you convinced that you were nothing without her. You were so busy putting yourself down that you didn’t realize your worth, and she was determined to make sure things stayed that way, always at the ready to fill your head with doubt.

If she had actually been capable of pity she might have almost felt bad that you were so gullible.

But then you met Eddie and even though she knew you were sneaking around behind her back, she didn’t stop you. Even though it hurt.

At first she dismissed your friendship with the metalhead as just a passing phase, a rebellion against her that would fizzle out when you realized he wasn’t worth it. It was almost laughable to think that you’d prefer to spend time with him. He couldn’t give you what she gave you. He didn’t love you like she did.

But that night at the Hideout when she’d seen the way you looked at Eddie, she had realized that she was losing you. You were going to leave her for your pathetic trailer park lover boy and then she’d be left alone all over again. That couldn’t happen.

She had done what she’d needed to do, and she didn’t regret it for a second. It was unfortunate that you had to get your heart broken, but she knew you’d come around and then everything could go back to the way it was before Eddie had entered your lives.

But then her necklace had gone missing and she’d started to have disturbing dreams. Dreadful, frightening dreams where she was trapped in a thick darkness that pulsed like a heartbeat and pressed in on her from all sides. Where she could smell the rancid stench of death as it crept ever closer until she’d wake up screaming and clawing at the sheets.

Sometimes even while awake she could hear its raspy whisper or see shadows moving on walls where nothing should have been.

Suddenly her mother’s far-fetched stories didn’t seem quite so ridiculous and the annoying prop she had resented, she found herself missing.

She needed the necklace back.

From where you stood in the doorway to Georgina’s bedroom things looked bad. Really bad.

After being startled from your sleep by an ear-splitting scream, you’d scrambled out of bed in a daze and rushed to Georgina’s room where you found her sitting in front of her vanity mirror, sobbing and clutching her face in her hands.

Even from a distance you could see that her once perfect skin was covered by large puss-filled welts and blisters that were oozing. When she dropped her hands from her face to look at you in the reflection of the mirror, you gasped out loud. She looked like a creature straight out of one of the bad B-horror movies that Eddie always made you watch.

“I’m hideous!” she wailed. “Sven promised his new experimental skin treatment was safe…that incompetent fucking liar!”

You stepped further into the room to take a closer look, not bothering to hide the smile that played across your lips at the sight of her distress.

“I was supposed to meet my friends for brunch, but I can’t go anywhere looking like this!” Her voice cracked with emotion as she stood up, knocking over her chair and nearly tripping over her feet.

She crossed the room and flopped down dramatically onto her bed, then looked up at you with narrowed, bloodshot eyes.

“Have you seen my necklace? It’s missing.”

“Which necklace?” you asked, willing your voice to remain deceptively casual.

“The one I always wear, duh.” She rolled her eyes at you with disdain, then gestured to her nightstand. “I could have sworn I left it here yesterday, but it’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere.”

You glanced around her room and noticed it was completely torn apart and looked a lot like it had after your vent session the day before.

“Did you take it?” she asked pointedly and your face heated slightly at the accusation. It was true, but you were still offended.

Georgina got up and walked over to where you were standing near the door, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she blocked the exit. Her menacing stare-down was a move that would have intimidated you in the past, but surprisingly you felt absolutely nothing.

“As if I’d want that ugly thing,” you sniffed, jutting your chin in the air. “Maybe you should ask Eddie where it is since the two of you are so close.”

She let out an indignant huff when your shoulder knocked against hers as you abruptly pushed your way past her out the door.

When you got back to your room, you rushed over to take the necklace from its hiding place under your pillow, knowing if Georgina found it in your possession there’d be hell to pay. You decided the safest courses of action was to wear it under a high necked sweater to conceal the chain. That way there was no chance she would ever find it.

As you finished getting dressed, you could hear Georgina’s clipped voice carry down the hall.

“I don’t care if it’s his day off, he needs to fix this immediately! Do you know who I am?”

You shook your head, grateful that you weren’t the unfortunate employee on the receiving end of Georgina’s wrath.

With it being Sunday morning, you didn’t have any plans so you decided to stay in your room to avoid her and catch up on your school work. When you opened up your bag and saw the purple book where you’d stashed it the night before, your stomach did a funny little flip.

The experimental spa disaster was likely just a coincidence, but you had to admit the timing was pretty strange. Nothing bad ever seemed to happen to Georgina, but overnight it appeared her luck had suddenly changed.

Even if it was impossible, you wanted to believe that the spell had worked and that she was finally going to get a taste of her own medicine.

Your eyes burned as you thought about all of the things Georgina had taken from you. What was a little bad skin compared to a broken heart? A broken heart that you reminded yourself was all her fault.

If anything she had gotten off easy. She deserved worse. Much worse.

The next morning your eyes flew open to what sounded like a cut-off scream, but after you lay there for a few minutes and didn’t hear anything else you shrugged it off.

You sighed as you got out of bed to get ready for a busy day of school and work, hoping your tight schedule would at least help distract you from your problems. As you got dressed you once again slipped Georgina’s necklace under your sweater for safe keeping.

You headed to the kitchen and met Georgina in the hallway covered head to toe in an oversized sweatsuit and large sunglasses that hid most of her face. She informed you that she had bullied her way into an emergency appointment with Sven and you rolled your eyes as you watched her hurry out the door.

You usually hated Mondays, but the day started off surprisingly well when a cute guy who worked at the coffee shop flirted with you and gave you a free drink. When you got to school, you found out that you’d aced your English paper and that your dreaded history exam had been pushed to the following week. Later that afternoon when you arrived for your shift at the record store, your boss told you there’d been a scheduling mix-up and sent you home with paid time off.

When you got home you found Georgina sitting on the couch icing her foot. She told you she’d twisted her ankle on her way home from the spa when the heel of her shoe had broken off mid-step.

As you stood there barely listening to her dramatic tale of footwear-related woe, you watched a dark red drop of blood slowly trickle out of her nostril and fall into her lap.

“Georgina, you’ve got a little…” you said gesturing to your nose.

“Oh, eww,” she exclaimed in disgust as she quickly pulled a bloody finger away from her face. “Can you get me a tissue?” She gestured to her ankle and stuck out her bottom lip.

You rolled your eyes and left to get one as she sat there whining and pinching her nose. When you came back into the room her eyes widened as she looked over your shoulder. She let out a high-pitched yelp of terror and you spun around to see what she was looking at.

“Did you see that?” she asked in a panicky voice, and you shook your head.

“See what? There’s nothing there.”

You looked at her quizzically, but she just shook her head and let out a fake-sounding laugh.

“Nevermind, it was probably just a shadow.”

The next day Georgina wasn’t feeling well and didn’t get of bed, which was good news for you since you wanted to avoid her. You rolled your eyes as you listened to the sound of her moaning loudly in her room. She was always one for the dramatics.

You didn’t return home until later that evening after work, and when you walked into the living room you found her curled up on the couch, shivering and grinding her teeth.

“Georgina, you should be in your room,” you scolded her, and when she turned her head in your direction it was like she was looking right through you.

She shook her head, her eyes frantic. “I’m not going back in there. Something tried to grab me and pull me off the bed.”

You stared at her, bewildered, until you realized that she was still sick and had possibly become delirious with fever. You put your hand to her forehead but she didn’t feel very warm.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

You grabbed her hand to lead her to her room, and after getting her settled you turned to leave. Before you could step away her hand shot out from underneath the blankets and grabbed onto your arm, her fingernails leaving indents in your skin.

“Please don’t leave,” she begged. “I’m scared.”

You pulled your arm out of her grasp, telling yourself not to let her draw you back in. Just because she was sick and frightened didn’t erase all of the terrible things she’d done.

“Try to get some sleep,” you said as you turned to walk away, shutting off the light and closing the door.

Later that night you woke up to sound of something shattering outside your room, and when you walked into the kitchen it looked like a crime scene with blood and glass scattered all over the floor.

Georgina was standing frozen in the middle of the room in her nightgown, grasping the bottom half of a broken glass with blood running down her arm.

“What happened?” you exclaimed, trying to avoid the broken glass so you could walk closer and inspect her wounds.

“I-I don’t know,” she stuttered shakily. “I got up to get a glass of water and then it just exploded in my hand.”

Her lips were trembling and she looked terrified.

Taking pity on her, you helped her to the bathroom where you got a large bandage out of the first aid kit for her to wrap the cuts on her hand. Then you left to go sweep up the shards of glass off the kitchen floor, the whole time wondering what the hell was going on. Things were getting a bit scary.

When you returned to the bathroom a few minutes later you froze in the doorway.

“Georgina…your hair,” you whispered in horror as you saw the small clumps that had fallen below her onto the white tile floor.

When she looked down and saw them she shrieked, turning to grasp at her head in the mirror. “Oh my god, what’s happening to me?”

You didn’t know what to say, even though a little voice in the back your mind whispered that it was all your fault.

“I need you to help me find my necklace,” she said solemnly as she turned to look at you.

“I already told you, I don’t know where it is,” you said impatiently. “And is that really your biggest problem right now?”

You couldn’t believe that she was worried about an old piece of jewelry with everything else that was going on.

“You don’t understand,” she insisted, her voice an urgent plea and you narrowed your eyes.

“What don’t I understand?”

“It’s a long story,” she mumbled and you sat down on the edge of the bathtub and crossed your arms, impatiently waiting for her to explain.

“I’ve never told anyone this before, but the necklace is kind of a good luck charm, and I think losing it is making all this bad stuff happen to me.”

Her eyes were haunted as she reached down to grasp your shoulder. “Please, you have to believe me.”

You looked up at her and thought of the necklace stashed safely in your room.

“What kind of good luck charm?”

“My great-great grandmother was a witch and she gave it special powers. It’s gives good luck and sometimes it even grants wishes.”

If you hadn’t been so shocked by the words coming out of her mouth you would have laughed in her face. The Georgina Banks you knew didn’t have a mystical bone in her body, let alone believe in magic. But her face was dead serious.

“I know how it sounds,” she insisted when she saw your doubtful expression. “I didn’t believe it either, but as soon as the necklace disappeared all this bad stuff started happening and now it won’t stop.”

“I think you’ve watched too many scary movies,” you said as you stood up and left to head to your room. You needed to be alone with your thoughts.

Your mind was a swirl of confusion as you paced your tiny bedroom. You’d never seen Georgina so out of control. Unpolished. Panicked.

Everything she’d said about the necklace was completely out of character, but at the same time it had seemed like she was telling the truth.

Suddenly her unbelievably good luck in life made a lot more sense — if it was true, of course. You weren’t sure what to believe.

You looked at the purple book that was half-sticking out of your bag and bit your lip, suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. You had wanted Georgina to suffer a little, but you hadn’t planned on things escalating so quickly. It had only been a of couple days since you’d performed the spell and Georgina was already a mess — sick, injured, losing her hair. What if it continued and she got seriously hurt? It was so frustrating that you couldn’t enjoy her suffering because of your guilty conscience. It just wasn’t fair.

Even if somehow all of Georgina’s recent problems were unrelated to magic, you knew you were going to feel responsible until you could set things right and end the curse.

You got up and pulled the purple book out of your bag and flipped through the pages to see if you could find anything about how to cancel a spell. Finding nothing, you threw it onto the floor in frustration.

You got into bed and tossed and turned for hours, trying to think of a solution. Then suddenly you remembered the little magic shop called Spellbound that was a few doors down from the record store. Rumour around town had it that the owner was a witch and if there was anywhere in Hawkins you might be able to get help, it would be there.

Feeling a bit better, you finally drifted off to sleep, resolved to skip class and head to the store as soon as it opened.

You got up early the next morning to find Georgina already awake and sitting on the couch, a mountain of discarded tissues at her feet.

The TV was on and you gasped as you watched footage of Georgina’s father being led out of a building in handcuffs, surrounded by what looked like an army of FBI agents.

“What happened?” you asked in disbelief, and Georgina tearfully informed you that her mother had called while you were still in bed. Her father’s company had been raided overnight due to suspicious financial activity. You watched in disbelief as swarms of agents carried out what looked like hundreds of boxes of documents.

“We’re ruined!” she cried. “My mother said we might lose everything. And now my father’s in the prison infirmary with chest pains.”

You couldn’t think of anything to say, suddenly overwhelmed with a sick feeling that washed over you in waves. Without saying another word, you put on your coat and shoes and headed out the door.

When you arrived at Spellbound and walked inside the tiny shop you were greeted by the warm scent of incense and the soft tinkling of the bells over the door. A few seconds later a middle-aged woman you recognized as the owner came out from behind a velvet curtain that led out back.

She was dressed in a long emerald gown and her hands and wrists were adorned with multiple gold rings and bracelets that twinkled in the light.

“Welcome,” she said, giving you a pleasant smile. “Are you here to have your fortune read?”

You shook your head and looked around the crowded shop, feeling a bit overwhelmed at all of the curious items on display.

“I was actually hoping you might be able to answer some questions,” you said nervously.

She smiled. “Certainly, I’d be happy to help. What would you like to know?”

You looked around to make sure no one else was listening and then took a deep, calming breath.

“I think I may have done something terrible,” you admitted and she raised an eyebrow but said nothing, so you proceeded to tell her about how you’d found the book and performed the curse in an attempt to try and make yourself feel better.

“I didn’t think it would actually work, but now bad things are happening. It keeps getting worse and I don’t know how to stop it. Is there anything I can do?”

She nodded and beckoned for you to follow her to the back of the store, and then spoke in a hushed and soothing voice.

“There are things that can be done to reverse a spell depending on the curse. Do you happen to have the book with you now?”

You nodded and went to pull the purple book out of your bag. As soon as she saw it, she let out a horrified gasp. You looked up to see that her eyes were wide and frightened as she reached to snatch the book out of your hands.

She opened it up and skimmed a few pages before quickly slamming it shut, then her large eyes immediately snapped up to meet yours.

“This book contains very dark magic, not suitable for a beginner,” she said as she ran her bejewelled hand over the cover. “You said you found this, but a book like this must be summoned.”

You started to toy nervously with Georgina’s necklace and she reached out to grasp the pendant where it hung around your neck. “Were you wearing this when you found the book?”

Her eyes held yours in an intense stare as she waited for you to respond.

“What does the necklace have to do with anything?” you asked, suddenly recalling Georgina’s words from the night before.

“It is giving off a very powerful energy and I’m familiar with this symbol, it’s an ancient one used for protection and good fortune among witches. Very rare to see in this day and age.”

You reached down to run your hand over the amulet. So everything Georgina had said was true.

“If worn while experiencing strong enough emotions this type of necklace is said to be able to influence things.”

“What do you mean, influence?” You thought of Eddie and how he had acted the night at the Hideout, wondering if it possible that Georgina had been controlling him.

“Well, if the wearer is experiencing powerful enough emotions the things they wish for could come true. Did you do or say anything that could have summoned the book to appear?”

You remembered the strange thunderstorm and how you had cursed Georgina to the sky — right before you happened to find the purple book.

“I was really upset that night,” you admitted and she nodded thoughtfully.

“Can you help me undo the spell?” you asked. “I’m afraid it’s gone too far and that someone might get seriously hurt.”

“Undoing a spell of this nature can be done, but it is complicated magic. You’ll need to follow my directions exactly.”

You watched her move about the store gathering items and placing them on the counter, then she put them in a bag and started to write down something on a sheet of paper.

“You must follow these directions exactly as I’ve written to undo the curse.” She handed you the paper and you folded it and stuck it in your pocket.

As she rang up your items, she once again eyed Georgina’s necklace.

“Make sure to wear the amulet while you do the spell and keep it on afterwards,” she advised as she handed you your change. “All magic carries a price and the curse you performed released dark energy into the world. It would be a good idea to keep wearing it for protection.”

Protection. You wondered if taking the necklace had left Georgina vulnerable to your spell. Maybe if you hadn’t stolen it you wouldn’t be in such a mess.

You thanked her and as you turned to leave she grabbed onto the sleeve of your jacket.

“Please promise me you will take the book back to where you found it and never seek it again. There are powerful dark spirits that reside in Hawkins and we must never summon them lest there be dire consequences for us all.”

You nodded, but your noncommittal response wasn’t good enough for her.

“Promise me,” she repeated, gazing deep into your eyes, and you solemnly swore to her that you would return it.

When you walked onto the sidewalk outside the store it immediately started to rain, and you sighed, resigned to walk home in the storm.

It didn’t take long before you heard a familiar rumble approaching and saw Eddie’s van pulling up to curb ahead of you. He rolled the window down and stuck his head out.

“It’s pouring. Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” You shook your head and continued on your way.

The van crept along beside you as you marched down the street, keeping your head straight ahead and ignoring him.

“C’mon, don’t be so stubborn. You’re gonna get soaked.”

After a few more seconds of deliberating you decided to give in. You were miserable in the rain, but you also knew you had to stop running from your feelings. Eddie was your best friend, or at least he used to be. If he wanted to date Georgina there was nothing you could do to change that, but he needed to know that it meant your friendship was over.

As soon as you climbed inside the van you were hit with the familiar scent of motor oil and smoke that permeated the interior. The thought that it might be the last time you’d ever drive anywhere with him made your chest tighten and a lump form in your throat.

It started to rain harder and the water ran down the van’s windows in streams obscuring the street from view and making it feel like you and Eddie were in your own private world. Instead of pulling away he put the van in park then sat nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I feel like I haven’t talked to you in fucking forever.” He chuckled uncomfortably, and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, not since you ditched me on my birthday for Georgina.” You glanced down at your hands where they twisted in your lap. Eddie turned in his seat to face you and shook his head.

“For Georgina? What are you talking about?”

He seemed genuinely confused, but you pressed on.

“I know you hooked up with her that night, and I just—”

“No, wait,” he interrupted. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Nothing happened with me and her that night.”

You scoffed as you fought back tears. The fact that Eddie would lie to you hurt worse than you could have imagined.

“That’s not how she tells it. She even raved about your magic fingers,” you said as you wiggled your hand in front of his horrified face.

“What? No! Right after you left she took off. I saw her leave with some jock who was there for the show.”

He softened his voice. “You have to know that I would never do that.”

“Then why were you at my apartment the next night? I saw your van.” You looked at him accusingly and he lowered his head.

“I know I shouldn’t have just shown up at your place, but you wouldn’t talk to me. I waited outside for a while and when you didn’t show up I went home.”

You regarded him carefully, wanting so badly to believe what he was saying. But even if he was telling the truth, it didn’t change the fact that he’d been flirting with Georgina that night. Just because she’d ended up ditching him to go home with someone else didn’t erase what he’d done.

“You ignored me and offered to drive her home. I just need to know why,” you said as you swallowed back tears. “It really hurt, especially after everything I’ve told you about her.”

He let out a long exhale and shook his head. “I’ll tell you, but you’re not going to believe me.”

“Try me,” you said. You had already heard enough strange things in the past few days to last a lifetime, what was one more?

“After I got off stage I remember walking over to see you, but after that things started to feel…funny.”

“Funny how?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“I can’t really explain it, but it kinda felt like I was in a dream and all I could focus on was Georgina.” His eyes studied your face and he cringed when he saw your expression.

“That’s called being horny, Eddie,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words.

“No, it wasn’t like that. And it doesn’t even make any sense because I…” he trailed off and looked down at his lap.

“Because you what?” you asked impatiently.

When he looked back up you noticed his cheeks were flushed.

“Because I’m in love you.”

You froze, struggling to think of a response.

“You…what?” Your voice came out as a breathless whisper.

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you and I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to believe me—“

“I think I might.” you interrupted, meeting his surprised gaze. “I think it’s possible Georgina might have put a spell on you.”

He laughed, but then stopped right away when he saw your serious expression. “What? You mean like magic?”

“Yeah.” You pulled her necklace out from under your shirt and held the pendant up so he could see it.

“I took her necklace, and before you say anything I know that was a messed up thing to do, but I just wanted a way to hurt her after I thought…” you trailed off and he nodded in understanding.

“Last night she told me that her great-great grandmother was a witch and that the necklace is enchanted. I went to Spellbound to ask about it and they told me that it’s true. That it’s powerful enough to influence people and make things happen.”

He stared at you and said nothing, his eyes wide and unreadable.

“You don’t believe me,” you said dejectedly.

“Uh, you’re talking to Hawkins’ resident Dungeon Master. I’m more open-minded about this kind of shit than you think.” He shrugged. “It makes sense. It was like I wasn’t in control and as soon as she left that feeling went away.”

“I’m not sure how it works, but I’m starting to think that’s why Georgina always gets what she wants,” you reasoned.

“Well, let’s test it out,” he suggested. “Try to make something happen.”

You grasped the pendant in your hand and closed your eyes.

“I’m going to visualize Corroded Coffin getting a record deal.”

You remembered how the clerk at Spellbound had said you needed strong emotions for the enchantment to work, so you let all the love you still felt for Eddie fill your heart as you pictured his band getting a contract.

He was smiling wistfully when you opened your eyes. “That’s a nice thought but the label already passed on us.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Eddie,” you said sadly. You knew how excited he’d been for their big chance.

“Hey, it’s ok.” He grinned. “There’s always next time, right?”

You gave him a sympathetic smile, then looked down at the bag from Spellbound in your lap.

“Can you give me a ride home? I have something I need to do and it’s kind of important.”

He nodded and started the van.

When Eddie pulled up outside your building, you let out a sigh before you opened your door.

“I wish I didn’t have to go back in there,” you said. “I need to move out, but I don’t have enough money to get a place on my own right now.”

“Why don’t you come stay with me for a while? Just till you find somewhere else?” he offered.

“I can’t ask you and Wayne to do that.” You shook your head.

“Of course you can. Wayne loves you…and so do I.” He leaned across his seat and before you realized what was happening he pressed his lips to yours and you pulled away in surprise.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice trebling with shock.

“Well, I was trying to kiss you,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed.

You reached down to fiddle with the pendant. “What if that was just because I’m wearing the necklace?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe you should take it off so we can be sure.”

As soon as you unfastened the clasp he leaned forward to capture your lips with his again. He cupped your face gently in his hands and you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his soft lips for just a moment.

“Nope, definitely not the necklace,” he said with a dimpled grin as he pulled away and adjusted slightly in his seat.

Even though kissing Eddie was something you’d dreamed about for so long, you still needed some time to sort out your feelings. It was all a bit overwhelming.

“I-I need to go now,” you stuttered and he watched in silence as you got out of the van and rushed inside your building and out of the rain.

When you walked into the apartment you found Georgina still sitting on the couch where you had left her, and when she looked up at you her face was twisted into a scowl.

“Where have you been? You just ran out when I needed you! You’re not being a very supportive friend in my time of need.”

You clenched your hand around the paper bag, trying to remain composed as all of the hate and anger inside of you swelled.

“I was with Eddie,” you said coldly, and you watched her eyes grow wide in surprise.

“I should have known from the smell of cheap cologne wafting off of you. You’re such a pathetic slut,” she sneered.

“Why did you lie to me about the night at the show? Why did you let me think you hooked up with Eddie when you really left with someone else?”

“That’s on you for being stupid enough to think I’d ever touch him,” she sniffed.

You shook your head in confusion. “I don’t understand. If you don’t want him, then why did you try to take him from me? Why did you lie?”

You were vibrating with anger.

“Why?” She laughed bitterly. “Because you don’t deserve to be happy. I’ve given you everything and you decide to repay me by choosing him? I guess trash really does belong together.“

She reached down to where her necklace would normally lay against her chest, and you caught the slight flicker of sadness that crossed her eyes when she felt that it wasn’t there.

“Did you use the necklace that night to make him want you? To try to hurt me?”

When you saw the coy smile that crossed her lips you knew that it was true, but before you could say anything else she narrowed her eyes.

“I know you took the necklace, did he put you up to it? I’ll be notifying the police and from what I hear they don’t take kindly to drug dealing losers.”

“You might not want to report any valuables right now, unless you want to have them confiscated by the feds,” you spat.

Your argument was interrupted when the telephone started to ring and when you picked it up you were surprised to hear that it was Eddie, and he sounded breathless.

“It worked. It fucking worked.”

“What worked?” you asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The record deal!” he exclaimed. “As soon as I got home from dropping you off the label called and said that they changed their mind about passing on us. They’re flying us out next week to sign a deal.”

“Holy shit.” You were so shocked that you nearly dropped the phone.

“I have to call the guys, but don’t do anything with that necklace or lose it or whatever,” he said before hanging up.

When you walked back into the living room, Georgina’s cocky demeanor quickly vanished and her eyes widened in fright as she looked at the wall behind you. She let out a terrified whimper, but when you turned you saw nothing and you realized that only Georgina could see what was there. A few seconds later the lights above you flickered a few times and you jumped when you heard a loud bang.

“What the fuck is going on?” she cried, looking at you in terror.

Your breathing became heavy and your heart was pounding like a drumbeat. Something bad was happening and you needed to do the reversal spell before it was too late.

“I’m going to help you Georgina, even though you don’t deserve it. But then I’m leaving and I don’t ever want to see or hear from you again.”

You stormed down the hall to your bedroom and slammed your door, throwing the paper bag from Spellbound onto your bed.

You heard another loud bang and then Georgina cried out in fear. “Help! It’s coming! It’s coming for me!”

You tried to shut out all the noise and distraction as you pulled out the piece of paper and attempted to follow the clerk’s directions for the spell. You arranged the items as instructed trying to ignore the chaos outside your room, but the noise grew to a deafening roar as you recited the words on the sheet. When you were finished everything went completely silent.

You got up and opened your door and called out Georgina’s name, but when she didn’t answer you realized she was gone and the apartment was empty.

When Georgina didn’t turn up after a few more days, the police came by the apartment to fill out a missing persons report. You told them all about how she’d been acting strange the past few days, how she had been distressed and that her behaviour became erratic. They seemed very sympathetic to your plight. Losing a dear friend was such a difficult thing to deal with.

Due to the stress of it all you ended up taking some time off school and work, and when Corroded Coffin moved across the country to record their album, you followed them.

You and Eddie were finally together and deeply in love, and his band became an overnight success. You didn’t think that you could possibly be any happier.

Sometimes you would see a glimpse of something that reminded you of Georgina, a quick flash of clothing or similar hair in a crowd, but you never saw her again.

2 Years Later

Knock, knock, knock.

You weren’t sure how long someone had been knocking on Eddie’s dressing room door, but in the moment you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Oh…oh god.”

You bit back a moan while your sweaty palms gripped the counter that shook in rhythm with each thrust of Eddie’s hips against the plush swell of your ass.

“You gonna give me what I want, huh?” he rumbled in your ear, beckoning you to cum again before he had to go onstage. You slid yourself into an even deeper bend, arching your torso and pushing yourself against him to bounce back on his cock, desperate for your fast approaching high.

He felt you start to pulse around him and you let out a stifled cry as the pleasure crested and rolled over you in waves.

“Good girl…fuck,” he mumbled as he came, giving a few more slow rolls of his hips before he leaned over you, resting his weight on your back as he caught his breath.

Another loud knock sounded on the dressing room door.

“Eddie, c’mon man it’s showtime,” a gruff voice called through the door.

“I’ll be out a minute, Jesus,” he muttered and then leaned over you to growl in your ear.

“Gotta go. You gonna be here later so we can continue this?”

You nodded and then giggled when he gave a little slap to your ass before he walked away to fix his clothes and hair.

Eddie never went on stage without his pre-show ritual.

As you started to get dressed and tried to make yourself look presentable, Eddie gave you a kiss on the cheek and headed out the door.

Later as you walked to the VIP section surrounded by your security team, you smiled happily as you took in the energy of the large stadium crowd.

You had almost reached your seat when you suddenly froze in your tracks and felt your heart start to flutter in your chest. There in the crowd amongst all of the excited fans, was a face you hadn’t seen in years.

Georgina.

With a pair of lifeless eyes and dirty, tattered clothing she was a shadow of her former picture perfect self. But it was definitely her.

She made eye contact with you through the crowd and you watched in stunned silence as she started to push her way to the front of barrier.

As soon as she got close, you saw her eyes trail down to your chest where her necklace was buried under a few strands of costume jewelry. You always wore it to Eddie’s shows for an extra bit of good luck, even though they were so successful at that point they didn’t need it.

“I knew you took it!” she hissed through clenched stained teeth. Her voice was raspy and chilled you to the bone.

“Georgina,” you managed choke out through your overwhelming shock. “You’ve been gone for two years…where the hell have you been?”

You looked over at your security team to see if they were listening, but it was like no one else had noticed she was there.

“I know what you did,” she seethed, her eyes flashing with violent anger. “I’m going to ruin you, just like you ruined me.”

Even after two years apart you felt your pent-up hatred start to rise and your face grew hot as you stared her down.

“Get that lady out of here.” You motioned to your security guard. “She’s an obsessed stalker and she’s threatening me.”

“I’m coming for you!” she screamed as they grasped her by the arms, and you turned away to avoid her furious stare.

Suddenly you felt a warm glob of spit hit your face and slowly roll down your cheek as Georgina struggled against the security guards who were leading her away.

A cold smile crossed your face as you used your sleeve to wipe your burning cheek, thinking of the safe deposit box that contained only one small purple item for safe keeping.

If Georgina wanted revenge, you were more than ready. And this time there would be no mercy.

A/N: Well we reached the end! 👀 Thank you all so much for reading and for your support 🖤

dividers by /@thecutestgrotto

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[munson-enthusiast]

BAD LUCK⚡️PT 2 | Best Friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Turns out you’re not so big on forgiveness. Luckily, you find a mysterious object that just might be the solution to all of your problems, if only you believed in that sort of thing…

WC: ~ 5k

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, heartbreak, unrequited love (for now), pining, misunderstandings, reader has poor self-image, swearing, occult themes, hexes/curses, spicy dream ft. oral f!receiving, slightly sub!Eddie, voyeurism ig?, eventual!dark reader, everyone is 21+ 18+ ONLY MDNI

SERIES MASTERLIST | PART 1

The living room was already bathed in the warm honey-orange glow of sunrise when you were rudely awakened from your sleep by the sound of the apartment door being slammed shut.

For a few blissful moments you were confused as to why you were still lying on the sofa, but it didn’t take long before the memories of the previous night all came rushing back.

Your birthday. The show at the Hideout.

The betrayal.

You listened as Georgina’s footsteps faded down the hallway towards her bedroom, then waited until you heard her door click shut before you sat up and let out a defeated sigh.

So that was that.

She’d obviously been out all night, more than likely with Eddie, and as much as you wished it had all just been a horrible nightmare, it was real.

Eventually you heard the sound of Georgina turning on the shower, and you decided to get up and make yourself some coffee while the coast was clear. After a night of broken sleep there was no way you were going to survive your shift at the record store without a caffeine boost, plus you needed a task to distract you from your thoughts.

But it didn’t work.

In the kitchen you went through the motions like you were working in a daze, unable to focus on anything other than what had happened the night before.

By the time you sat down at the table with your very questionable cup of coffee, Georgina had emerged from her room, humming a cheerful tune and looking radiant despite having been out all night. You imagined you probably looked like death warmed over by comparison.

She grabbed a mug out of the cupboard and helped herself to some of the coffee, then leaned back against the counter, sipping the hot drink in her fluffy bathrobe like it was just a regular Saturday morning.

But it wasn’t a regular morning. For you, everything had changed.

“Did you stay at Eddie’s last night?” you asked in the steadiest voice you could manage, hating yourself for hanging onto one last shred of hope that it was all just a big misunderstanding and there was some other reason Georgina hadn’t come home after the bar.

“Yeah,” she sighed with a dreamy smile, and in that instant it felt like she had sucked all of the air out of the room and you couldn’t breathe.

“You know, it’s funny,” she continued as her perfect lips curled into a sly grin. “I’ve never been with a musician before, but they sure know how to use those fing—”

“That’s enough!” you roared, slamming your mug down onto the table so hard that most of its contents sloshed over the side. You fought back tears as you watched the brown liquid pool on the polished surface. Even though you were upset, you knew it wasn’t going to help anything if you let your anger reduce you to a blubbering mess.

Georgina’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at your sudden outburst. In all the years you’d known each other, you’d never dared to raise your voice at her before.

As if preparing for battle, she carefully set her mug down on the counter, pushed back her shoulders and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Not backing down, you held her glare, letting all of the anger you’d pushed down for so long finally rise to the surface. If Georgina wanted a fight, you were going to give her one.

“You knew I liked him and you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Your voice trembled with rage as you eyed her with disgust. “You can’t let me have anything. I’m so sick of your bullshit, Georgina!”

“Sick of me? That’s rich,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with controlled anger. “You’re nothing without me, you ungrateful bitch. You’re lucky I even keep you around.”

You couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh.

“Lucky? Wow Georgina, you’re right. I’m so lucky that you decided to steal the guy I liked on my birthday!”

She stared at you as if confused for a moment, and then you watched her face transform into the mockingly sweet facade you’d seen so many times before.

“Stole him? Wait…don’t tell me you actually thought you had a chance?” She stifled a giggle and you could feel the stinging burn of humiliation start to creep up your neck and spread over your cheeks.

“Oh my god…you did?” She faked a look of incredulous surprise, putting all of her years of high school drama club acting to good use.

With your insecurities laid bare, you struggled to think of a response and she shook her head as she gave you a pitying smile.

“Sweetie, it was never going to happen. He’s hot and his band might actually make it. He needs someone a bit more on his level, don't you think?”

As intended, her cruel words drove into the soft cavity of your chest, all at once stealing your breath and rendering you speechless. The way she smiled at your wounded expression could have almost been mistaken for kindness, if you hadn’t known better.

But, oh, you knew.

Sensing victory, Georgina stuck out her bottom lip in an imitation of a pout.

“Now, don’t look at me like that. You’ll find someone else to have a pathetic little crush on someday. If anything, you should thank me for saving you a lot of wasted time.”

Thank her? She had to be kidding.

You clenched your fists at your side so hard that your nails bit into the flesh, but just as you were about to unleash a torrent of angry words, you were interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone.

Georgina immediately rushed across the room to answer it, and a few seconds later you saw her face break out into a delighted smile.

“Of course! I’ll be there right away!”

She hung up and looked over at you with a disarmingly pleasant grin, your argument all but forgotten in her excitement.

“That was the spa at my parent’s country club. I’ve been on a waitlist for a treatment with Sven for ages and they finally had a cancellation! He’s a miracle worker!”

You watched in stunned silence as she rushed out of the kitchen to go get ready, and only a few minutes later she was dressed and headed out the door.

With Georgina gone, you slumped down further into your chair and wiped away a few stray tears that had escaped your lash line. She was right, you were pathetic. You hadn’t even managed to tell her off properly, and worse, she’d made you realize that your biggest fear was true — a guy like Eddie would never want someone like you. He’d made his choice, and he wanted Georgina.

A few minutes later the phone rang again and you reluctantly dragged yourself out of your chair to go answer it.

“Hello?”

Your heart nearly skipped a beat when you heard the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

“Uh, hey, it’s Eddie, I—”

“Georgina’s not here,” you interrupted, slamming the receiver down with a satisfying bang. Then you stood and glared at the silent phone as if daring it to ring again.

Hanging up on Eddie may not have healed the clawing ache that gripped your chest, but it had sure felt good.

After you showered and got ready for work you were about to walk past Georgina’s bedroom, when you paused in the open doorway.

Her room looked like something out of a high-end catalogue. Perfectly furnished and decorated. Perfectly organized. Perfectly…Georgina.

You walked over to her dresser and picked up a framed photo that she’d kept of the two of you from prom night. In it, she had her arm around your waist and you were both smiling brightly at the camera. You scoffed at the sight of her happy face.

Stupid Georgina and her stupid perfect smile…

Without a second thought you released your grip on the silver frame and let it fall in a loud clatter of metal on wood. Then you reached out to swat at a few of her other thoughtfully displayed trinkets, watching with satisfaction as they tumbled to the floor.

Not quite finished, you turned your attention to the rest of Georgina’s pristine room.

Her bed was topped with several carefully arranged decorative pillows and you picked one up in each hand and tossed them at the wall, releasing a desperate, guttural growl. Your vision blurred with angry tears as you violently hurled the remaining pillows and watched them land in a soft pile on the other side of the room.

Swallowing back sobs, you stormed over to her closet and started to pull her clothing off the hangers, then you grabbed a few pairs of her designer heels and launched them at random objects around the room.

As you raged, the same thoughts kept repeating in your mind over and over — like a broken record trapped in an endless loop.

Georgina had stolen the man you loved.

Georgina had ruined your life.

Georgina needed to pay.

You had just picked up her bedside lamp and yanked the cord out of the wall, when a shiny object on her nightstand caught your eye — an antique necklace that just so happened to be Georgina’s most prized possession.

She wore it all the time, in fact, you couldn’t remember ever seeing her without it. You’d asked her about it years before and she had explained it was a precious heirloom that had been passed down in her family for generations. She’d told you it had once belonged to her great-great grandmother on her mother’s side, a very powerful and respected woman in Hawkins during her time.

You reasoned that Georgina must have forgotten to put it back on after her shower in her rush to get out the door.

As you ran your finger over the silver pendant’s interwoven design you were struck with a wicked idea.

Georgina had taken away the most important thing in your life — it was only fair that you take something that was just as special to her.

Maybe you couldn’t manage to hurt her with words, but losing her beloved necklace would be a devastating blow. You picked it up and admired the way it gleamed in the light before you undid the clasp, fastened it around your neck and slipped it under your collar.

Feeling a bit better, you surveyed the wreckage of Georgina’s bedroom. As much as she deserved it, leaving her room in its current state wasn’t going to hide the fact that you’d been in there and taken the necklace. You didn’t have much time before you needed to leave for work, so you immediately sprang into action, putting her belongings back in place to cover your tracks.

Once you finished, you looked around with a sense of satisfaction. Not a single pillow or knick knack was out of place and Georgina would never suspect a thing.

With that taken care of, you grabbed your bag and quickly headed out the door.

You were unpleasantly surprised when Eddie showed up at the record store later that morning.

He mostly stuck to the back of the shop, perusing the music displays and shooting furtive glances in your direction. Not ready to talk to him, you let on that you didn’t notice he was there.

After several minutes of pretending to browse, he finally approached the counter where you sat reading the latest issue of Metal Edge.

“Hey,” he greeted you in a soft voice and you acted like you didn’t hear him, letting out a bored yawn as you flipped another page of your magazine.

“Um…hello?” he repeated a bit louder, waving a hand in front of your face.

You looked up, only sparing him a withering glance before returning to your article.

“If you can’t tell, I’m busy right now,” you said gesturing to the magazine.

“Can you just talk to me for a second?”

He sounded desperate and you paused your page mid-turn to look up at him in disbelief.

He had a lot of nerve showing up the day after hooking up with Georgina and acting like he deserved a single minute of your time. You shook your head and looked back down at the page.

Seemingly not getting the hint, Eddie stayed right where he was, staring at you from across the counter until you couldn’t take it any longer.

“Can I help you?” you finally snapped, slamming your magazine down so hard that he jumped.

“Is there…is something going on? Last night you took off so early, and then this morning with the phone—”

You cut him off with a bitter laugh, watching as his already large eyes somehow grew wider.

“You were so busy with Georgina last night, I’m surprised you noticed I was gone.”

He lowered his head to study the floor.

“Yeah, about that…” he trailed off, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I came down here to say I’m sorry. She was just…and I didn’t…look, noth—”

Eddie ran a hand over his face in frustration. Whenever he was anxious or upset he had trouble expressing himself and he knew he was doing a terrible job, evidenced by the unimpressed look on your face.

“Just give me a chance to explain, ok?” His eyes searched yours for some sign that you might be willing to hear him out. “Can I pick you up after work so we can talk?”

You couldn’t imagine that there was anything Eddie could say that would excuse what he’d done, and you certainly weren’t ready to forgive and forget.

You shook your head. “I think you should leave.”

You were proud of yourself for not backing down. Normally, you would have folded at the sight of his sad eyes and nervous stumbling, but your disappointment in Eddie far outweighed any feelings you may have had in the past.

Realizing you weren’t going to budge, he gave a resigned nod and turned to leave. You watched him walk away and just as he was about to push open the door, you called out.

“Oh, and Eddie?”

He wheeled around on the spot, his eyes wide with a glimmer of hope.

“Maybe the next time you need a record you should try the mall.”

With that you looked back down at your magazine, not daring to raise your head again until you heard the bell over the door signal that he was gone.

On your walk home from work that evening you stopped to look at the Halloween display in the front window of Spellbound, a quirky little curiosity shop located a few doors down from the record store.

Their theme was scary mythical creatures, and you couldn’t help but think of Eddie as you gazed at a dragon’s shiny painted scales and tissue paper flames. That sort of thing would have been right up his alley, or at least the Eddie you thought you knew.

Tears stung your eyes as you turned from the window to continue on your way home.

You had to wonder if everything you’d believed about Eddie had all just been a lie. His views had seemed so antithetical to everything Georgina represented, but maybe deep down he’d wanted someone like her all along. After all, he did have dreams of becoming a famous rockstar someday, and who better to show off on his arm than the lovely Georgina?

It wouldn’t have been the first time a guy you’d met had said one thing with his mouth and another with his dick, but you had never expected that sort of thing from him. Maybe you’d given him too much credit.

Lost in your thoughts, you reached under your collar to distractedly fiddle with Georgina’s necklace. You’d meant to take it off earlier and stash it in your bag, but you had found the weight of it oddly soothing.

As you ran a finger over the cool metal, you wondered if Georgina had noticed it was missing. You smiled, picturing her sad face when she realized it was gone.

At least you knew you wouldn’t have to deal with her when you got back to the apartment, as she always had plans to go out on Saturday night. You tried to think of some things you could do to cheer yourself up at home, settling on a nice, relaxing bubble bath and then watching one of your favorite scary movies. While you debated which one to watch, your troubles were momentarily forgotten until your building came into view and you were stopped dead in your tracks.

From where you stood you could see that the lights were on in your apartment and that Eddie’s van was parked just outside. He was there. They were there together.

That asshole. That absolute snake.

Your blood ran cold as you realized his visit to the record store earlier hadn’t been to apologize — he wasn’t sorry. It had just been some bullshit way to make himself feel better about seeing Georgina again.

Well, there was no way in hell you were going to risk walking in on whatever the two of them might be doing; the moving shadows you could see through the window making your stomach turn.

Overwhelmed with a sense of panic, your first instinct was to run as far away as possible — to escape to a place that wouldn’t remind you of Georgina or Eddie at all.

Somewhere quiet where you could wallow all alone in your misery.

Somewhere no one would bother you on a Saturday night.

Left with no other option, you turned and headed towards the library.

As you marched down the sidewalk the beauty of the crisp fall evening was lost on you, as each crunching step over flame-colored leaves only left you more and more upset.

Wrapped up in your thoughts, you barely noticed that the clouds above you had rapidly darkened, until you saw a flash of lightning tear across the sky. A few moments later you heard the rumble of thunder overhead and you stopped walking, shaking your head in frustration.

You almost had to laugh. Of course it would rain. Nothing could ever work out for you.

You thought of Georgina and how she floated through life, never dealing with any consequences. Why did someone awful like her keep getting rewarded by the universe while you kept getting the short end of the stick? Had you done something wrong?

Why was she the one who got to spend an evening at home with Eddie, while you were forced to walk outside in a thunderstorm all alone?

By the time the first large raindrop hit the tip of your nose, you were vibrating with anger. You were so worked up that even Georgina’s necklace felt hot against your skin. In irritation you reached under your collar to pull at it, gripping the pendant in your hand.

“ARGH!” you cried, throwing your other hand up in frustration at the sky. “Give me a fucking break! Why don’t you go pick on Georgina for a change?!”

Several vibrant bolts of lightning lit up the inky sky above you, but you ignored them and continued to stomp down the sidewalk, avoiding the stares of curious people in passing cars. You knew you probably looked ridiculous as you trudged along muttering angrily, but you didn’t care what anyone thought about you anymore. You’d finally reached your limit.

Oddly enough, the thunderstorm seemed to pass by as quickly as it came and never amounted to anything more than a few measly drops of rain. When you arrived at the library entrance, you stopped to look up at the peaceful evening sky and shrugged before walking inside.

That was kind of strange.

Once inside the library, the comforting and slightly musty scent of books hung thick in the air and you inhaled deeply, attempting to let the peaceful surroundings calm the tempest in your mind.

As expected for a Saturday evening near Halloween, it was practically deserted.

Unsure of how to pass the time, you recalled that your history professor had assigned an essay on Ancient Rome earlier in the week, so you decided you may as well grab a few books and make some notes to keep yourself busy until you had to go home.

You were walking along the aisles and had picked out a few books that looked promising, when something from the shelf above you must have been knocked loose and fell, hitting you on its way to the floor.

Rubbing your smarting head, you looked down to see that it was a slim hardcover volume, bound in soft purple cloth that was decorated with an intricate gold foil design. You opened it up and saw that its yellowed pages were filled with a delicate script that looked like poetry or some other type of short prose. Intrigued, you added it to your stack of books.

You chose a table by one of the large windows that looked out onto the park, and let out a wistful sigh at the sight of a couple walking hand-in-hand through the picturesque fall scene. You imagined they were probably off to a romantic dinner date together, or maybe home to watch a scary movie and cuddle on the…nope.

You had to stop. Those kinds of thoughts could only lead to Eddie and that was the last thing you needed.

Your eyes drifted to the strange purple book on the top of your pile and you decided to take a look.

The first page you opened up to was titled Blighting of a Harvest and appeared to be some kind of old-fashioned incantation or spell. Overcome with curiosity, you continued to flip the pages, chuckling to yourself at some of the titles that looked like they were straight out of a B-horror movie about wizards. Then you came to a page that gave you pause.

To Curse Thine Enemies. Now that one sounded interesting. You pulled the book a bit closer and read the first line.

“By the light of the full moon, recite the words that follow to steal an enemy’s good fortune and bestow a curse that shall endure for seven years minus a day.”

You thought back to Georgina’s smug face from earlier that morning and somehow seven years of bad luck didn’t seem quite long enough.

Even though you didn’t really believe in the supernatural or that sort of thing, you couldn’t help but think how great it would be if you could just say a few words and magically solve all of your problems.

You were about to turn to the next page, when you hesitated.

Even though you’d never dabbled in anything magical before, you reasoned that doing the spell could be a bit of fun. In real life you couldn’t hurt Georgina or exact a meaningful revenge, but maybe the ritual would help you feel a little less powerless. Besides, nobody else would ever have to know.

You skimmed the list of required items and saw that you had most of them at home, and for the others you figured you could probably just improvise. Cooking oil still counted as oil, right?

Your mind made up, you gathered your things and got ready to head to the front desk with the book, but when you looked inside the front cover you realized it didn’t have a checkout card. On further inspection, it had no identifying information at all.

What if you tried to check it out and the librarian took it away? You couldn’t have that.

You looked around the empty room to see if anyone was watching, and then you hastily shoved the book into your bag. You got up and with your head down, you quickly headed to the exit, then out into the cool evening air.

The whole walk home you silently hoped that nobody would be at the apartment when you arrived, and as you approached you were relieved to see that the lights were off and Eddie’s van was gone.

Once inside, you immediately set to work gathering the things that you needed for the spell; a candle, the oil, a jar, a picture of Georgina along with a few other personal effects. It wasn’t a full moon quite yet but you supposed you’d have to make do.

To set the mood you lit some incense and threw a handkerchief over your lamp to dim the light. Then you put a Fleetwood Mac record on the stereo on low volume, for some reason it just felt right.

When you had all of the items gathered, you sat down on your bedroom floor and arranged them in the specific way the book directed.

You lit the candle and took a deep and centering breath. The book said to focus on all the ways your enemy had wronged you, so as you recited the words you thought of all the terrible things Georgina had said and done to you over the years. Your skin grew warm as your emotions swelled, and you unconsciously grasped her necklace as you pictured her cruel smile and hurtful words.

When you were finished, you blew out the candle and set about putting everything away. You felt a little foolish, but at the same time it was almost as if a weight had been lifted off your chest. For the first time since the Hideout you finally felt a hint of inner peace, and that was all you had really wanted in the first place.

Before getting into bed you took off Georgina’s necklace and shoved it under your pillow, resolving to find a better hiding spot in the morning. Then you drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face.

That night you dreamed of Eddie.

You were together in a strange room lit only by a ring of glowing candles that surrounded a mattress on which you both knelt, facing each other in the near dark. Flickering light danced over the walls, casting long, moving shadows that concealed most of Eddie’s form, but you could see that he was naked.

The sheer robe that you were wearing was partly opened in the front and you could feel the cool weight of Georgina’s necklace between your breasts, the knotted silver gleaming in the reflected candlelight. You ran a hand over the pendant and hummed as you gazed into Eddie’s eyes, soft and beseeching in the dim light of the room.

“Let me show you,” he entreated in a low voice that was thick and smooth like honey, and you felt the warmth of desire spread between your thighs when you saw him wet his lips.

You let the robe fall off your shoulders, and as you watched his eyes roam over your naked form, you didn’t feel the slightest hint of shame.

You felt powerful.

His heated gaze was filled with reverence and as his dark eyes drank you in, it almost felt like it was akin to an act of worship. In fact, he was worshiping you and you realized you could feel it. Hear it.

It was as if the room was buzzing with energy, and you were the source.

Behind you in the dark you could hear the sound of muffled crying but you didn’t care to turn and see what it was, or where it was coming from.

“Please,” he whispered, and you felt a stir of pity in your heart at his desperation. You grasped his chin and brought his mouth to capture yours in a tender kiss. As you parted your lips to allow his tongue to glide against your own, you heard a deep rumble in his chest and then he pushed you onto the bed.

He braced his body over yours and even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel the firm weight of his cock against your skin. You released a breathy sigh as his mouth traced a slow path down your body, taking his time to linger with each soft press of his lips.

“Let me worship you, show you.” He ran the very tip of his tongue along the smooth curve of your upper thigh, leaving a trail of tingling goosebumps in its wake. The soft curls that hung around his face tickled your skin as he moved, and you buried your hands in his hair, urging him closer to where you needed him.

He slipped a hand between your thighs, gently coaxing them apart, and you gasped when you felt his warm breath fan over your cunt. By then you were so aroused that you could feel yourself dripping down onto the sheets, and his eyes darkened when he saw the way you glistened.

He spread you open with his fingers, then flattened his tongue nice and wide, to glide it slowly through your wetness, groaning as he relished in your taste.

“Thank you.”

He breathed the words like a sigh of relief then flicked his tongue over your clit in a rapid, steady rhythm as you started to writhe beneath him on the bed.

Then letting out a feral growl, he threw your legs over his shoulders, burying his face in your pussy like he’d been starved and you were his salvation.

The sobbing noises kept growing louder and you finally turned your head in their direction to see Georgina standing in the doorway, watching you as tears ran down her cheeks.

Even though you were surprised, you didn’t tell Eddie to stop. In fact, the sight of her tears spurred you on and pushed you closer to the edge.

You threw your head back with mocking laughter as you rapidly approached your climax, gripping Eddie’s hair to grind against him as your pleasure built to an earth-shattering peak—

And then you woke up with a start, your brow covered in sweat and your heart pounding.

What the fuck.

You looked around your room letting your eyes slowly adjust to the dark as you realized that you were alone in your bed. Your initial disappointment was quickly replaced with anger — you didn’t want Eddie anymore, in real life or in a dream.

Still, you were flustered.

It was far from the first time you’d dreamed of fooling around with Eddie, but nothing before had ever felt so real. You swore you could still feel where his strong hands had gripped your thighs.

Such a cruel trick of the mind.

It took a while for you to shake off the disturbing dream and go back to sleep, and as you drifted off you reached under your pillow to run your hand over the hidden necklace.

You didn’t wake up again until later the next morning when a blood-curdling scream pierced the quiet of your apartment.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Next chapter is the final part 👀

Dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

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[munson-enthusiast]

BAD LUCK ⚡️ PT 1 | Best Friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: You’re resigned to living in your best friend’s shadow, letting her walk all over you in her designer heels because life is just easier that way. But when she takes the one thing that matters you decide enough is enough. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

WC: ~4k

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, pining, unrequited love (for now), brief mention of f!masturbation, reader has poor self-image, swearing, heartbreak, eventual smut, eventual witchcraft/occult themes, eventual dark-ish!reader, everyone is 21+ 18+ MDNI

Over the years you had come to realize that in life there were certain indisputable truths — things that you could count on happening time and time again without fail. A fumbled slice of bread would inevitably fall butter-side down. The checkout line you picked at the supermarket would always end up moving the slowest. And perhaps most notably, your best friend Georgina Banks would always get whatever she wanted.

If it wasn’t already enough that Georgina had been born into a life of wealth and privilege, she’d also been blessed with perfect skin, hair and posture. With a face kissed by the gods and perky breasts pushed sky-high in pink cashmere cardigans, she was the living, breathing embodiment of feminine grace.

And after nearly a decade of friendship you’d learned that fate would always side in her favor.

During Georgina’s reign as the Queen of Hawkins High, she’d ruled her faithful minions with a well-manicured iron fist. Most of your fellow students would have given their right arm to sit at the lunch table over which she presided, but only a select few ever managed to make the cut.

And for some reason, that included you.

You knew that people who saw you and Georgina together likely thought you made a very odd pair, and in all honestly you were just as perplexed by your friendship as everyone else.

You never quite understood why she’d chosen you to be her best friend out of all of her available options, but as much as you hated to admit it, her attention made you feel special — not a sentiment you were overly familiar with.

As a teenager you’d spent an embarrassing amount of time in front of your bedroom mirror mimicking your best friend’s gestures and style, hoping some of that Georgina magic might eventually rub off and transform you into someone more like her — popular and beloved instead of the dull, awkward girl you saw staring back at you in the reflection. It never worked, and as you grew older Georgina continued to float through life with infuriating ease while you just…didn’t.

In the grand scheme of things, without Georgina by your side to open all the right doors and secure all the right invites, your social status was even lower than the outcasts and unpopular kids, who at least got some attention, albeit negative.

You were invisible.

A true nobody. An afterthought who barely registered as a blip on anyone’s radar. A stagnant weed unable to flourish in the ever-looming shadow of Georgina’s lofty branches.

Sometimes, deep down, you wondered if that was the real reason she kept you around. It made perfect sense. You, of all people, would never pose a threat to her position as queen bee. She could rest comfortably knowing you would never try to steal her spotlight. Never put your own needs first. Never dare step out of line, lest you fall victim to social ruin.

You hadn’t exactly found it easy to make friends after moving to Hawkins while in middle school, and once Georgina had scooped you under her wing that was pretty much it. You had no one else in your corner and she knew it.

She knew you would continue to take what she dished out, all the while making her look more vibrant by comparison; a drab extra in the background of her life, blending into the scenery while she got to shine.

And oh, how she shone.

Perfect grades without opening a book. Lead actress in each year’s drama production. The hostess of every highly anticipated party or social function Hawkins had to offer.

Georgina was a natural born star.

To you it felt like everyone who met your friend instantly fell under her spell, and you’d watch with veiled disgust as people would fawn over her to a sickening degree. Teachers, children, even small animals — it didn’t seem to matter. Nobody in town was immune to Georgina’s winsome charms.

Growing up you’d even had a sneaking suspicion that your own parents wished that she’d been their child instead of you, a laughable scenario at best because there was no way in hell that Georgina Banks would have been able to endure the ordinary existence of your simple family home. No maids? No avant-garde cuisine? No, thank you.

You found the way people worshipped her to be a very curious phenomenon, because even though she was beautiful, rich and well-dressed, she wasn’t a good person. Just like a piece of spoiled fruit that looked ripe and sweet on the surface, when you finally peeled back the layers, Georgina was rotten to her core.

If you were being totally honest with yourself, you hated her.

You hated her fake smile, and the way her perfect lips would curl in callous mockery of anyone she felt was beneath her. How she could be so casually cruel without a second thought, twisting the knife in deep to make sure it inflicted maximum damage.

You hated how she treated people in general, but especially the ones she had labeled the weirdos and freaks; a wide-ranging group that consisted of anyone whose interests veered outside of shopping, parties, or anything else that Georgina deemed “normal”.

As time went on, that part started to bother you the most of all, because you just so happened to be fond of one of those aforementioned “freaks”. Very fond.

You’d become friends with Eddie Munson shortly after starting your first semester at college, when you’d taken a part time job at the local record store.

The first time he came in to buy some cassette tapes you’d thought he looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite place him. At least not right away.

When you’d heard the bell over the store entrance chime, and looked up from your spot behind the counter to see a handsome man with wild long hair walk through the door, you had been intrigued. He wore a battle vest that was covered in various rock paraphernalia, and even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, you could have sworn you’d seen it somewhere before.

As you sat there watching him check out the music displays you had noticed he was cute, really cute, with big brown eyes, a defined jaw and full lips that lent a softness to his face. How had such a hot guy been right under your nose in Hawkins without you noticing? You swore sometimes it was like you lived under a rock.

After browsing the metal section for a few minutes, he had approached you at the counter and you'd silently willed yourself to try and play it cool. Something that was much easier said than done.

“Hey, do you guys have the new Metallica album in yet?” he’d asked in a deep voice that caused a slight clench of your thighs, and all you could think in the back of your mind was that it just wasn’t fair how attractive he was.

“No, it’s not in yet. Sorry,” you’d told him with a shake of your head. Then you’d smiled sympathetically at his obvious disappointment.

“We’re supposed to be getting it in on Friday,” you added helpfully. “If you want to leave your name and number I can give you a call when it gets here.” The prospect of getting to see him again was already making you giddy.

“Yeah sure, thanks.” The smile he gave you in response was wide enough to make his eyes crinkle at the corners, and the sight had caused an unfamiliar tightening in your chest.

You’d pushed a pen and paper across the counter towards him.

“I’m looking forward to hearing it too,” you had volunteered quietly as you watched him write his contact info on the sheet, and he’d looked up at you immediately, his big eyes widened in surprise.

“You like Metallica?” Eddie had tried to keep his voice casual, but could barely contain his excitement at meeting a fellow heavy metal fan — something few and far between in the small town.

“Yeah, I love them. Their last record was amazing...” you had said full of enthusiasm, before trailing off shyly. You’d wished you could think of something else a bit more insightful to say about Master of Puppets, but unlike Georgina who was a gifted conversationalist, you always struggled to find right words. Especially around someone as handsome as the brown-eyed metalhead.

After he’d left the store with a promise to come back on Friday, you’d looked down at the sheet where he had written his name and everything finally clicked into place. Eddie Munson. Of course! You were immediately hit with a vivid memory of him atop a cafeteria table back in high school, making a scene while loudly calling out the preps and the jocks. You remembered being amused by his obnoxious antics at the time, but had only dared to cheer him on inside your head. You hadn’t been brave enough to laugh out loud with Georgina perched at your side, especially considering she was one of his intended targets.

Other than the occasional cafeteria rant, you’d never really crossed paths with Eddie while you were at Hawkins High, not surprising considering his reputation and the fact that Georgina kept you on a pretty short leash. You may have forgotten about him back then, but after that fateful day at the record store, you couldn’t seem to get him off your mind.

After that day Eddie started to visit to the store on a much more frequent basis, and before long he became one of your favorite customers. Ok, the favorite.

Eddie was one of the few people you’d met in Hawkins who made you feel comfortable in your own skin. It felt amazing to spend time with someone who wasn’t always looking over your shoulder and judging everything little thing you said or did. Since you and Georgina had moved into an apartment together after starting college, you felt more trapped than ever within her controlling grasp.

You started to live for those shifts at the record store.

After a while Eddie asked for your number and you started to hang out with him outside of work, meeting up to go to rock shows on the rare occasion that a decent band came through town. He also invited you to the weekly gigs of his own band, Corroded Coffin, and you quickly became their number one fan. Well, you and the other five drunks.

It didn’t take very long for you to fall in love with Eddie; it was like he’d been created in a lab specifically for you. He could be sarcastic yet sweet, a little rough around the edges but still a bit of a dork — a perfect combination that made you swoon. It also didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes.

As your feelings for Eddie grew, so did a raging battle inside you, because while you didn’t have the confidence to tell him how you felt, you wanted him so very badly. Adding to your confusion was the fact that he could get a bit flirty at times, but you were never sure if he meant it or was just kidding around.

You weren’t used to being the object of anyone’s desire, and found it hard to believe that someone like him would be interested in you. For as long as you could remember every time a guy had looked your way, he was just trying to see around you to get a better view of Georgina.

As much as you wanted to be with Eddie, you couldn’t help but worry that the signals he was giving off were all in your head. If you confessed your feelings and he turned you down, it would have shattered the one fantasy that got you through the day. You decided it was safer to keep things between the two of you platonic, at least until you could be absolutely sure.

Still, when you touched yourself late at night, it was his face that you imagined. His eyes on yours — his hands, his mouth…those lips. And when you’d finally spill over the edge into the most exquisite pleasure, it was his name you would sigh out in the dark. Afterwards you would lie there alone in your bed, wishing you could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours beneath the sheets. Sometimes the yearning was almost unbearable.

Of course, you never dreamed of telling Georgina about your crush. Eddie was so far beneath her on the Hawkins social ladder that there was no way she would have approved. It wasn’t that you cared about her opinion of him at all, but you didn’t want to let her taint that part of your life, as she would no doubt try. Your time with Eddie was something special, just for you.

To keep from having to explain things to Georgina, you hid your outings with Eddie, telling her that you were heading to the library to study whenever the two of you met up. It was the perfect white lie that you knew she’d never figure out, because the library was one place she’d never be caught dead.

Your ability to hide your friendship with Eddie was one of the few times that Georgina’s disinterest in you worked in your favor. She never noticed what was going on with you unless it affected her in some way. In fact, even though you spent most of your free time with each other, you were pretty sure she didn’t know a single thing about you. All of your time together was spent talking about Georgina — her interests, her crushes, her problems.

It was never, ever about you.

So you were understandably taken aback when your birthday rolled around and she asked what you wanted to do to mark the occasion.

“I cleared my whole night,” she’d announced haughtily, as if you should thank her. You had just stared at her blankly, not quite knowing what to say.

It just so happened that Corroded Coffin was playing a show at the Hideout that night, and Eddie had promised there was going to be a special birthday surprise just for you. Naturally you wanted to be there front row center to support your friends, but certainly not with Georgina in tow.

She never wanted to do anything unless it benefited her, so when you begrudgingly admitted that you wanted to spend your birthday at a metal show of all places, you expected her to dig in her heels and refuse to go.

You were unpleasantly surprised when she agreed to join you.

That night when you arrived at the entrance to the Hideout, you could tell that Georgina was already horrified by her surroundings. The old dive bar wasn’t exactly the Ritz, after all. She sniffed at the burly doorman when he asked for her ID like he’d somehow managed to offend her to her core. It didn’t get any better once the two of you got inside.

“I’m not sitting on these,” she hissed in a horrified whisper, gesturing at the bar stools you’d suggested as a place to wait for the show to start. “Look, they’re all grimy. This skirt is suede.”

You just rolled your eyes and did your best to ignore her complaints because you were there for Eddie, not her.

The show that night had the potential to be a really important one for Corroded Coffin. They’d heard a rumor that a talent scout for a record label was going to be in the audience, and if everything went well, it could be their chance to finally land a recording contract.

You waved at Eddie when you saw him walk out onto the stage during soundcheck, and when he smiled and waved back your stomach did an excited little flip. You were so happy that not even Georgina’s presence could ruin your mood.

Once the lights went down and the show started you decided to move closer to the stage, dragging a very reluctant Georgina behind you. The entire set you stared up at Eddie from the front row like he hung the moon, your eyes locked on his large hands as they coaxed the most incredible sounds out of his guitar that you’d ever heard. You’d never seen him play with such fiery passion.

You got a nervous lump in your throat when he finally zeroed in on you in the crowd, flashing you an adorable dimpled smile as he shook his head to move away the sweaty curls that surrounded his face. Then he stepped to the mic and announced that they were going to do a cover of your favorite song.

“This one goes out to my special girl on her birthday.”

He winked at you before counting it down, and your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest. You couldn’t get his words out of your head.

He had just called you his special girl in front of everyone. Not his friend or buddy or pal — his girl. Was it possible that you hadn’t been imaging things after all and he actually liked you? You stared up at him in love struck awe as the first notes of Master of Puppets filled the air.

And that’s when Georgina finally noticed Eddie.

Well, not him exactly.

She noticed the way your eyes lit up while you watched him, and saw the dreamy smile plastered across your face. It was pretty obvious you had it bad for the handsome metalhead, and from the way he was looking down at you from the stage, the feeling appeared to be mutual.

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question, but a matter-of-fact statement, spoken just loud enough that you could hear it over the buzz of the boisterous crowd.

You snapped your head around to face Georgina, and you could see the realization written all over her face. She now understood why you had wanted to spend your birthday squished alongside sweaty bodies in the front row of a metal show instead of somewhere more dignified with her and her other posh friends.

“No, I don’t.” You shook your head in brisk denial, but the flame you carried for Eddie burned too bright for you to hide. You’d always been a terrible liar and Georgina could see right through you.

“Don’t lie. It’s cute.” She gave you a tight-lipped smile, and even though the pleasant expression didn’t quite reach her eyes, it was a much tamer reaction than you had anticipated. You had always imagined her angrily scolding you for associating with a “freak” who might make her look bad by association.

Realizing there was no longer any point in lying, you nodded and even dared to flash her a relieved grin. You couldn’t believe Georgina was being so calm about the whole thing, but it felt amazing to finally be able to admit your feelings out loud to someone. You’d been dying to let it out for so long.

“Yes, but please don’t say anything when he comes over, okay? He doesn’t know,” you begged, and she nodded, pulling her finger and thumb like a zipper across her pursed lips.

When the set ended, Eddie made his way through the crowd to greet you, wiping the sweat from his brow as his warm eyes assessed the ripped cropped top and tight jeans you’d squeezed yourself into for the show; not a Georgina-approved outfit by any means, but she had let it slide seeing as it was your special day.

“Hey, get over here birthday girl.” He laughed as he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you close to him in a tight embrace. You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne as you relished in the feeling of his body held to yours. For that short moment you could almost imagine that you and Eddie were the only two people left in the crowded bar, but you weren’t, and when he finally let you go and stepped back with a bashful smile, Georgina quickly slid in front of you and cleared her throat.

For a split second you thought she was about to tell Eddie to get lost, and you were just about to rush to his defense when your annoyance quickly turned to confusion.

You heard a soft giggle pass through Georgina’s glossy lips, and not just any regular old, run-of-the-mill giggle. No, you would have recognized that high-pitched girlish sound anywhere. It was her extra special giggle, reserved for flirting.

Like a switch had suddenly been flicked, Georgina’s sour grimace from earlier had been replaced by a dazzling smile, directed squarely at the man that you adored.

“You guys were on fire tonight…especially you,” she purred as she moved close enough to run her hand down Eddie’s sweat-glistened bicep. Her flirtatious words echoed and bounced around your uncomprehending skull as you watched Eddie’s dark eyes gleam and his front teeth protrude just enough to bite his lower lip.

What. The. Fuck.

“I love your rings…they’re so sexy.”

You could hear Georgina’s voice but it sounded far away, muffled by a fuzzy pounding in your head that had started to make things go out of focus. You watched as she reached out to touch the jewelry that decorated Eddie’s hand, her manicured nails gleaming as they caressed the fingers that you’d imagined on your skin so many times.

No, no, no.

On the outside you were frozen in place, but inside you were screaming. Your fleeting hope, now swallowed whole, and sinking slowly into a bottomless pit of despair that knew no end.

You stood there, helpless, watching them make eyes at each other for a few moments before you finally found your voice and jostled Georgina’s arm.

“We’d better head out now. It’s getting late and I’ve got that paper I need to work on, remember?”

You hoped your words might trigger Georgina’s memory, and remind her that she wanted to go home. That she would realize you were offering her an escape from the dingy bar that she’d wanted to leave since the moment she’d stepped inside.

Instead, she turned to face you, her eyes widened in confusion as if she had suddenly just remembered you were there.

“Then go,” she said breezily, her icy cold eyes were a stark contrast to her forcibly casual tone. “I want to stay.”

“But…I’m your ride.”

You were still struggling to make sense of what was happening. It felt like you were losing your grip on a situation that was rapidly spinning out of your control. You couldn’t have prepared yourself for the turn of events that was unraveling in front of your eyes. Not in a million years.

“Uh, I can give you a ride if you want,” Eddie offered in a low voice while he gazed into Georgina’s eyes. It was like he was hypnotized and couldn’t look away.

Georgina raised a seductive eyebrow at the obvious double entendre before turning her head over her shoulder to fix you with a triumphant smirk.

You shook your head in angry disbelief.

Your eyes stung as you fought back tears, completely crushed by Eddie’s betrayal. You had learned to always expected the worst from Georgina, but not him. You had told him about her nastiness so many times, and he’d seemed genuinely disgusted. So all it took was a pretty face and a low cut shirt, and suddenly everything he’d shouted about on table tops was forgotten?

“There, it’s settled. Eddie will give me a ride,” Georgina said coldly as she dismissed you from their presence with a wave of her fingers. “You can go.”

You looked helplessly at Eddie one last time, hoping he’d try to convince you to stay. But he wasn’t paying any attention to you. He was too wrapped up in Georgina, just like the soft curl of his hair that was already twisted around her finger.

Suddenly feeling ill and in desperate need of air, you turned on your heels and rushed out of the bar and into the parking lot. Once outside, you fought to catch your breath and tried to keep your tears at bay until you could make it to the privacy of your car.

You drove home through a haze of tears, barely able to see the road. You felt like your whole world had suddenly been flipped upside down and nothing made any sense.

When you arrived home, you stormed inside and proceeded to pace your apartment, impatiently waiting for Georgina to return. The bar would be closing in a couple hours and you were resolved to finally to give her the piece of your mind that had been a long time coming. You had taken her shit for years and never once fought back, but this time she had gone too far. This? This was unforgivable.

But as the hours passed and the night wore on, Georgina never came home.

You waited up all night until finally, exhausted and heartbroken, you fell into a restless sleep on the sofa, lying on top of the decorative party banner that had fallen off the wall behind it.

Happy birthday, indeed.

A/N: Yikes. I'm so sorry, but reader is going to have to go through it a little. We all need our villain origin story, right? 👀 See you in the next part! I'll be posting the next parts of this story over the course of spooky season <3

READ PART 2 here

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If you weren’t tagged your settings wouldn’t let me, sorry!

dividers by @/firefly-graphics

[munson-enthusiast]

Where you left me

Based on that Twilight scene… this is rather short and not my best work. I’m trying to get back into the swing of writing. Life has been stressful. Enjoy, M’loves!!

Blurb: Vecna is coming for Eddie and to keep you safe… he has to leave.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Eddie x Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/no comfort. Angst. Talk of death. Relationship break-up.

-

You met him where you always did. At the old rickety picnic table that was close to wood rot and had outlived your grandparents by at least a decade. It was buried deep between the thick weighty trees of the forest.

It was your spot. Yours and His.

A secluded place you could always count on; a safe haven you could flee to when the world got too much.

But something about this time set your nerves on end. The spontaneity of the meeting left your palms feeling clammy and your knees jittering with every half step you take toward Eddie’s perched frame.

His head hung low from his shoulders- he looked like a defeated warrior. Done. Packed up and ready to go home. Leaving the battlefield of lost souls burning behind him; his suit of armour covered in blood.

“Ed’s?” Your voice is punctuated with the crack of twigs and the crisp of fallen leaves beneath the rubber soles of your sneakers. You avoid sitting down, too afraid of the conversation that may follow and your eyes settle on the shrunken brown pine needles that coat the wooden table. Autumn is upon you.

The mere sound of your voice is enough to cause Eddie to scatter to his feet; clearly he had been awoken from a deep, dream like trance.

“Hi, sweetheart.” One of his hands palm at the back of his neck nervously whilst the other is draped across his abdomen as he hugs himself close. It’s something you had caught him doing whenever he was uncomfortable; or whenever he was afraid.

And you felt puzzled more than anything else, because why would Eddie— your Eddie, be uncomfortable around you?

“Is everything alright? You seem—“

“Everything is fine. Or it will be…” he takes two steps back from you, his normally soft brown eyes are sharp and alert as they take in the forest that you are both submerged in. You hadn’t seen Eddie like this before. So withdrawn and skittish.

“Thank god,” You let out an airy wheeze that could pass as a laugh, “For a moment I thought you might be breaking things off with me…” it’s your turn to pull your coat tighter around your frame. All of a sudden you feel the growing cold temperature around you. It’s as if this had been prophesied and even the weather knows something horrible is about to happen.

The clouds darken in colour and a ominous shadow is cast wide across the forest and its surroundings. Eddie bounces on the balls of his feet and a frustrated groan hits your ear: shrill and heart wrenching.

“Eddie? What’s going on?” You dare to ask.

“I… I have to leave. I have to leave town.” He can’t meet your gaze. Because if he does, if he allows himself to be swept into your glossy saucers of pure love and soul, he won’t be able to leave. He won’t go. He would stay and fight and protect you.

But if he leaves, you are automatically protected. Without all of the blood. Without the loss and the grief. He could protect you from afar. He had to leave you. He had to break your heart. Or he would come for you…

Vecna would come for the town. He wasn’t willing to take that risk.

Your life for his. That’s what he agreed.

“Okay… okay, well I can come with you.” You protest confidently and slightly excited, inching closer to Eddie’s towering frame, “I can think of something to tell my family and… and… where did you want to go?” You gulp, becoming restless, “Why do you have to leave?” You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t understand unless he told you.

“No.”

You freeze at the sternness in his voice. Your throat running dry.

“I said I’m leaving. Not we. Not us.” He looks at you for the first time since you arrived, “I don’t want you to come.”

You blink your wide eyes silently, your brain is like a wild fire and all you can seem to mutter is, “Did I do something wrong? I can be better… I can change. Please, Eddie. You can’t… you can’t leave me here.”

Your pleas cause Eddie’s chest to wind into a tight knit and hot iron like tears to prick at his eyes like sharp pins. He wanted to envelop you in his arms and tell you how sorry he is and how perfect you are for him. You didn’t need to change a single thing. He loved you. He loves you.

But he couldn’t.

He had to break you.

He had to make you hate him.

“You can’t change my mind.” It surprises Eddie just how able he is to keep up this painful facade without bursting into a puddle of tears and crumbling to your feet to beg for forgiveness.

“Please—“ you’re tearing up now and it makes Eddie hate himself more.

“I don’t want you anymore.” The words slice at his throat on the way up and it’s as if he is choking on his own blood, “I’m not going to tell you where I’m going because you’ll follow me.” Only now is he able to take a few steps toward your quaking frame. You have managed to suppress the tears, but Eddie knows how deeply he has just wounded you.

“I won’t survive without you. Eddie— Ed’s. Don’t… don’t do this to me. Please.” Your cold face becomes slicked with warm tears and Eddie bites back what he really wants to say.

‘I’m doing this because I love you. I’m doing this because I need you to be safe. I need to know that I have a future with you in it. I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I love you… I love you…’

Eddie settles for a pathetic, “I’ll see you again.” And you stand as still as a concrete statute, afraid to move and hoping that this is all just one massive nightmare. You feel the warmth of Eddie’s arms engulf you and you are sure that when you reopen your closed eyes that you’ll be at home. In the comfort of your plush bed. None of this would have happened. Eddie wouldn’t have left you, “I’m sorry, love.” He plants a chaste kiss to your hairline and his lips linger before they disappear completely.

And he does abandon you. When you open your eyes you are standing alone. Cold to the touch. Freezing. You swear you can feel ice crystallising on your skin and your fingertips feel as stiff as rock.

You don’t move. Still you don’t move. You can’t. Your brain is screaming but your mouth remains sewn tightly shut. You are in shock.

Despair. Gloom. Caught in a trap that you can no longer escape from.

And just when you think you have finally mustered the strength to take a step forward— just when you believe you can run into the night and call after Eddie.

You collapse to the frozen dirt with a harsh thud and a teary wince.

The first noise to leave your mouth in minutes is a scream.

A scream as hot as malted lava. A scream that leaves your throat bleeding and raw. A scream that’ll leave you voiceless.

A scream that becomes a cry. A cry that becomes a sob.

And a sob that becomes slumber. You fall asleep on the dry and stick covered ground of the forest. The last thing you see before you succumb to the darkness is the looming trees that tower over your lowered and huddled frame. They shelter you from the brewing storm.

But they couldn’t save you from a torn heart.

-

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[munson-enthusiast]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

(dad!eddie x mom!reader)

Summary: Eddie has to shower before he can hold his impatient baby. She's having none of it.

a/n: i was attacked by yet ANOTHER cute baby tiktok so here we are with a little bit of grease monkey!eddie and another little drabble. set in the early days of the pennyverse. and yes, i've used this gif before but he's dead so i'm running out of them. mistakes might be fixed later, i dont know :)

“Are these your little fingers?” You asked your baby, tone saturated in honey and affection as you held the chunky palm in question, lips pressed to her pudgy fingertips. 

  Despite your aversion to it prior to your pregnancy, you’d inevitably developed a baby voice when Penny had come into the world and you couldn’t be blamed. Not when she was all squish, delicate cheeks holding so much chub they bulged, and rolls decorated her little limbs. She was a glutton, always demanding your milk and you couldn’t deny her; those big, gorgeous eyes she’d inherited from her father made it nearly impossible to, even when the wetness welling up in them were completely alligator tears. And those curls. 

  Regardless of taming them with some water, a brush and maybe some vaseline, they ended up wild, flying about or mussed and matted to her head with sweat because your baby was a little heater when she slept and napped. Just like her daddy.

  Your smile widened in size when you heard the sound of keys slotting into place at the front door, the lock mechanism giving away. It tripled when you realized your baby also recognized the sound, head turning to stare at the door as she bobbed in place, thick legs squatting and then popping back up as you held her by her waist with your other hand, assisting her with standing.

  The moment Eddie opened the door and came into view she began cooing and squealing in excitement, mouth parting in a wide smile as drool raced down from the corner of her mouth.

You laughed, and so did Eddie as he heard his baby welcoming him home.

  “You excited to see me, sweet pea?” He cooed right back, walking over to squat in front of the two of you, eyes raking over you momentarily in appreciation before focusing on the little one in your arms. 

  She let out another long coo that ended on an airy sigh, pulling her hand from your grasp to reach both of her pudgy ones out to him, practically begging him to hold her as she began wiggling in your arms.

  Eddie’s head tilted, lips curling into the most tender smile as he stared down at her with nothing but love swimming in those eyes he’d shared with her. 

  “Daddy missed you and mommy so much.” He whispered, a hand reaching out, almost close enough to caress her soft cheek but it hesitated before he could touch her. His rough, grease covered finger was a stark contrast to her clean, smooth skin. Clearly, you’d given her a bath before he got home because her mouth and cheeks were usually covered in the food you were starting to offer her (sometimes baby food, but mostly bits of your food because she wouldn’t accept any offerings of mushed up veggies and fruits if there was something else on your plate, hence why your diet had been pretty bland and not at all a result of the tight budget your maternity leave left you on).

The rest of his hands were no better, palms stained, streaks all over his arms as a result of shucking the top half of the monkey suit and rolling up his sleeves at the garage. 

  There were even a few streaks of grease and maybe oil on his face and neck. Your husband smelled more so of tires than he had the spicy cologne that surrounded you when he’d kissed you goodbye in bed this morning. 

  And he knew it.

  Penny didn’t let that stop her, still eagerly reaching out for him as she grunted to try and provoke him in swooping her up into his embrace.

  “As soon as daddy’s clean, okay? I’ll pick you up and my sweet girl can give me all the cuddles she wants.” He promised, hands on his knees before he stood back up, leaning over her to give you a sweaty, greasy oh so sweet and firm press of the lips kiss before he swiveled around and disappeared into the small bathroom as quickly as he could to be out of hearing range when Penny began whimpering at his absence. 

  You heard the shower start running at the exact moment she began to cry and you offered a sympathetic whine of your own as you adjusted your grip on her, bringing Penny up to your chest, your cheek smushed against her more plump one.

  “Shhh…it’s okay, my love. Daddy’s just showering. He’ll be back.” You stood up, hitching Penny on your hip as you walked to the entrance of the small hallway so the bathroom door was visible to her. Eddie’s humming floated out from underneath the crack of it. 

  Penny was Eddie’s daughter, alright, full of dramatics as her breathing remained heavy, chest rising and falling quickly with the hitches in her breath as a chunky fist gripped onto your blouse, lower lip curling out and wobbling. She didn’t seem satisfied with your explanation but that didn’t worry you. If Penny was awake when Eddie left for work in the morning, she’d start bawling. 

  The first couple of times she’d started reacting to his departure, he’d ended up full of guilt and late to work. It still wasn’t easy for him, even after you’d finally convinced him she’d have the same reaction whether he left in the morning, afternoon, or evening. Regardless of the time, she was going to be upset that she wouldn’t be able to see her daddy, probably convinced in her little baby mind that he’d abandoned her (he’d nearly quit the shop when you’d phrased it like that) but he’d always come home to her—and you—and that’s what mattered.

  You were positive she’d start yelling and shrieking when it came time for you to go back to work, too. She was just a baby, so she was being a baby.

  You carried your huffing and puffing daughter back to the living room, placing her down on the carpet in front of some toys she had been playing with earlier in the day. Maybe they’d distract her.

  Wrong.

  She sat on the carpet, chunky legs strewn out for just a few seconds before she was moving forward onto her belly and propping herself up. Then she was off, crawling as fast as she could towards the hallway while breathing heavily with exhilaration. You trailed after her, amused at how stubborn she was when she stopped directly in front of the bathroom door, propping herself up on her bottom.

  You watched Penny reach out with shaky palms, pressing them gently against the door. It looked like they were feeling around it before she began slapping them against it as hard as she could as she yelled her baby babble, no doubt demanding her daddy open the door, pick her up and love her right now.

  Giggles were muffled into your palm, as she kept up with it. 

  Eventually, maybe when she realized that wasn’t working, Penny leaned over, wiggling around until she was on her tummy and the side of her head was resting on the carpet. You realized she was trying to look under the door for him and your heart clenched, hand flying over your chest as if you could grasp the organ.

  You expected her to sit back up and go back to smacking the door but she remained there, a stubby finger absentmindedly trailing through the carpet as she stared through the thin crack, warm bathroom light and Eddie’s voice flooding out from underneath to comfort her as she waited.

  Picking her up had crossed your mind, and so did the idea of how loudly she’d probably start screaming and crying if you did. 

  The two of you didn’t have to wait for long, the shower shut off and you could hear the sounds of the shower curtain rings scraping against the rod as Eddie pulled them back. 

  Panic briefly filled your chest as you realized Eddie probably wasn’t expecting his baby to be lying on the floor directly outside of the bathroom—he’d step on her, so you called out, “Heads up, Eddie, you’ve got a visitor.”

  You didn’t hear a response, but a few moments later, the door opened to reveal your husband. Water droplets slipped down his neck and chest. He had one towel—that had definitely seen better days—wrapped around his waist and another (yours) he was using to scrunch up his sopping wet curls to dry them.

  Eddie had heard you, shooting you a smirk before he addressed the baby beaming up at him, “Shower’s free if you wanna hop in, stinky.”

  Penny had no idea what he was saying, it didn’t matter anyways because he said it in the same voice he used when he gave her kisses and held her to his chest so she was reaching up for him and he finally reached down—with clean hands—grasping her sides before she was hoisted into his arms. Penny wasted no time, mouth parting wide to mouth aggressively at his face and chin while she shook her head and wiggled about.

  She was giving him kisses.

  Or trying to eat him, she had little bursts of energy where she’d do that—attack you out of nowhere while you held her causing the both of you to break out laughing.

  Eddie let her get it all out, and when she cooed, resting her cheek on his shoulder, he retaliated. Her cheeks and little neck rolls were smattered in his smacking kisses as she squealed and shrieked and wiggled but there was no escaping her daddy’s clutches now that she was finally in them. 

  When every inch of her available to him had been kissed, he turned towards you and you suddenly found yourself victim to two sets of identical crinkly brown eyes. A deep chuckle rumbled from Eddie as he padded over to where you stood, mischievous smirk making another appearance.

  “Mommy’s turn.”

[munson-enthusiast]

thinking about girl dad Eddie holding his new little baby on his chest, and she's wearing a cute little onesie with peaches all over it, and she's so small and little, and he's such a natural with her, he's got one hand giving her bum lil pats and the other hand holding a book I'm -

[munson-enthusiast]

.𖥔 ‧ ₊ ˚

contains flashing lights

mean!eddie visual 2.0

heavily inspired by the writings of: oneforthemunny, carolmunson, andvys, littlexdeaths, taintedcigs, chelseeebe, ghost-proofbaby, keeksandgigz, eddiesghxst, bimbotrashcan

(fun fact, last year it was trend to use ai voices in edits and someone made this audio with ai eddie talking)

[munson-enthusiast]

Can I interest anyone in a wee bit of frenemy(?)eddie and some soft confessions while under the influence?

18+, MDNI 2.2k

cw: drug use (edible)

“Oh, wow. She’s really out.”

Nancy wasn’t wrong, but Eddie didn’t need to be told. He had noted your rapid descent into sleep when it started halfway through the movie. Your eyelids fluttering like they had weights attached to them and your body curling into itself as you sank into the cushions of the Wheeler’s sofa.

You were crumpled in a ball at the end of it now, hugging the arm like you thought you were going to roll off the edge of a cliff if you let go. Your half-drunk beer still sat on the end table, abandoned once the edible you split with Argyle took effect.

Eddie had foolishly tried to warn you off it, saying you should start with half of your half and go from there. But of course that only set the two of you off like a pair of dueling firecrackers.

He didn’t know how he kept ending up in these spats with you. He never intended to insult you, it just seemed he had a real knack for it. You always accused him of babying you and he’d accuse you of being too stubborn for your own good.

Had anyone besides Eddie suggested you take it easy, you probably would have listened and might still be conscious right now.

Nancy jostled you gently, trying to rouse you while Eddie peered over her shoulder. He didn’t care for the lifeless way your limbs hung, for the way your head lolled forward on your shoulders like you couldn’t hold it up yourself.

It made his fingers drum nervously on the outside edge of his thigh and the wallet chain that hung there clinked with each and every irregular tap.

Of course he knew there was logically no way you could OD on a pot brownie—but that didn’t mean he delighted in seeing you so incapacitated.

Eyes shut tight, you started babbling softly in response to Nancy’s voice as she tried to draw you back to the world of the waking. With a soft oof, she got you to put one arm around her neck and attempted to lift you off the couch. But even with the deceptive strength of her slight frame, she wasn’t getting you anywhere by herself.

So, she glanced around the room at the rest of their friends in their various states of intoxication.

Steve and Robin were long gone, Robin being the winner of their coin toss for who got to drink that night while the other stayed sober. She’d skipped on the edible and mainlined strawberry daiquiris instead, leading to her calling out forlornly as Steve helped drag her out the door,

“What if I puke pink? Please, please, please, don’t let me puke pink—”

Argyle and Jonathan were passed out, entwined on the pallet of blankets and pillows on the floor, Jonathan likely not realizing the warm chest he was burying his face in wasn’t his girlfriend’s.

Finally, her determined gaze fell to Eddie, and she tilted her head at him in that Nancy way of her’s that gave out marching orders without her so much as speaking a word. With another glance at your sleeping form, Eddie released a resigned sigh and nodded his head.

As they helped you climb the stairs, one arm slung over each of their shoulders, you started to rouse again and slowly registered what was happening through the fog of your high.

“Aww, shit…m’fucked up, huh?” you chuckled, letting out a heavy sigh. Head lifted the couple of inches you could manage, “M’so sorry, Nance, I shouldn’t have…he was right…again…”

The bitter edge in your voice as the last word left your lips made Eddie’s brow jump with interest. You lifted your head the full two inches you could manage and peered at Nancy through half-lidded eyes. Your head then swiveled to the other side and Eddie braced himself for more vitriol.

But none came.

Your face didn’t even change and Eddie realized your current state made he and Nancy’s mops of messy brown curls somewhat indistinguishable. You just continued on like you were still talking to your best friend, not the guy you couldn’t stand.

“Wheeler, you’re a fucking beast, you know that? You’re so strong…”

The loopy giggle you let out brought a smile to Eddie’s lips in spite of himself. He felt your hand start to curl around his shoulder and it made him tense, worrying you’d recognize the rough denim of his vest. But your fingers simply held it, rubbed the frayed hem of his cut-off sleeve between the pads, your sleepy smile re-forming.

“God, Nance, you smell so good…”

Your head suddenly drooped, landing partially on Eddie’s shoulder and making his breath catch.

You took a deep inhale of his scent, your chest expanding with it and making Eddie’s eyes bulge and then avert quickly when he caught himself ogling the deep scoop of your neckline. He had already committed most of the night to avoiding just that, his eyes just…slipped for a second.

Over your head, he caught Nancy’s gaze and the cloudy blue color might as well have been a bright red laser for how clearly she saw through him.

Thankfully, they got to the guest room before she could make any damning remarks. She pushed open the door and flicked on the bedside lamp, illuminating a bed piled obscenely high with pillows and a down comforter seemingly thicker than some mattresses Eddie had slept on.

“Can you hold her?” Nancy asked, looking from the bed back to him.

His throat bobbed with a harsh swallow and he nodded, only half-sure of his answer. Nancy lifted your other arm from her shoulder and turned you into his body. Your other arm wrapped around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder.

His hands wrapped hesitantly around your back, holding you against him almost like you were slow dancing. He had to resist the urge to sway.

Heart thundering so loud he feared it might wake you, Eddie watched while Nancy pushed all of the decorative pillows to the floor and turned down the comforter, motioning Eddie forward.

He walked you backwards a few steps and sat you down on the edge of the bed while Nancy knelt to take off your shoes. Thankfully, the dress code on movie night was always supremely casual and the track pants and tank top you’d worn would be fine to sleep in.

You babbled a bit more as they got you ready for bed, seemingly oblivious to Eddie’s presence—even mentioning him briefly as they helped you lay flat and Nancy lifted your legs onto the bed.

“He’s just so annoying, you know?” you muttered bitterly. “Like, whatever, you’re hot and you play guitar and you’ve banged like half the town. That doesn’t mean you know everything.”

Eddie tried not to let the words sting. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t said before to his face, but there was something about you still saying it, even when he “wasn’t there” to hear it.

“I’m gonna get water,” Nancy whispered, already out the door. “Just keep an eye on her, please?”

Eddie frowned and grumbled in response, but he didn’t move from his spot beside you. He did start to turn away, but stopped when you shifted in the bed. You reached out a limp hand and caught just the tips of Eddie’s fingers, tugging lightly on them like you wanted to tell him something.

He sank slowly to his knees, trying to hear you as your lips moved almost mutely.

“Should’ve listened,” you muttered. “Shouldn’t’ve been such a dick…”

You seemed perfectly content continuing your conversation even without “Nancy” responding, and Eddie wondered if he should just go? He was positive you’d be mortified if you ever found out he had overheard any of this. But even as he was screaming at his feet to move, for his knees to rise, they remained planted on the Wheeler’s plush carpeting at your next words.

“Nance…why doesn’t he like me?”

It took what felt like a year for Eddie to unfreeze. He looked towards the door for a sign of Nancy’s shadow in the hallway, the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. But there was none.

Your head lolled on the pillow, eyes still shut but the lids twitching subtly like you were trying to open them. If you did, you’d be staring straight into Eddie’s own rapt gaze. You still held your pitifully weak grasp on his fingers, and he easily could have pulled away. But he didn’t.

Eddie just watched, torn between his standards of decency and being desperate to find out what you were talking about. He didn’t even know you were into anyone—let alone that you liked them enough to groan about them to Nancy. What kind of idiot wouldn’t like you back?

Some sadistic part of him wanted to find out.

“I mean, I know I’m not—m’not like…Chrissy—but I’m alright, aren’t I? An’ I wore thisstupid booby shirt hoping he’d notice and he just…”

Your voice took on a wounded waver and you stopped, inhaling deeply as if to steady yourself. The beginnings of tears started to shimmer along your lash line and you shut your eyes tighter, but it only squeezed one of them out and made it trickle down your temple in a wet trail.

Okay…Eddie was really confused now.

He didn’t even know you knew his ex-girlfriend’s name until it came tumbling past your lips. And he sure as shit had so noticed your booby shirt—he’d barely been able to keep his eyes off you, had to actively force himself not to stare.

Had you actually…did you really wear it for him?

All of a sudden, you rolled onto your side and your eyes cracked open the widest he had seen them all night. You looked almost lucid and you were staring directly into Eddie’s face.

He flinched slightly, worried you might scream when you saw him. But you just sighed, scanning his features all glassy and moon-eyed as you stared at him plainly. Unabashedly.

Like he’s an oil painting that couldn’t look back.

“He’s just so…pretty.”

The words are whispered, like a secret. And it takes everything in him to remain totally still and not to let his eyes bug completely out of his skull. Wait, did you…Did you not think he was there?

“I like’im so much…what’m I gonna do?”

There it was again. That plaintive whine, that broken lilt of your voice that tugged mercilessly at something deep inside of him. Heartstrings he didn’t know were there until you plucked them.

You looked at him with those shiny eyes. Literal tears were filling them now, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You were crying. Over him? What kind of world was he living in?

And nearly too late, Eddie realized your eyes were fluttering closed again. Not from exhaustion, but to lean in and kiss him.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You stretched your neck forward, hand coming up to cup his jaw—god, your palms were so soft, not rough and hard like his—and Eddie felt himself melt briefly into your touch, just for a moment before he realized what you were doing.

Eyes closing, chest heaving, lips parting as you leaned into what you thought was a dream.

No, no, no, he thought frantically. Not like this—

Eddie wrapped his hand around your wrist and gently pulled away from you. It made you push a little harder, trying to fight your way out of his grasp, but you were weak and looked more like a kitten trying to box. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want you to get upset, he just—

“Hey,” he soothed, gently brushing the backs of his fingertips along your jaw. “Just go to sleep, okay? We can talk about this in the morning.”

You blinked, seemingly in realization, like you were surprised to hear him speak. And it made him wonder how many of your other dreams he’d starred in where he didn’t say a word.

But his voice seemed to soothe you somewhat, your fists unclenching and dropping to lay on the softness of the sheets. You nodded your head as your face sunk back into the pillow, your cheek rubbing the dainty floral bouquets on the case.

Eddie let out the breath he didn’t remember he was holding, his shoulders slumping with it as his mind raced. Carefully, with nimble fingers curled around the edge of the comforter, he tugged it up further over your shoulders, almost to your chin. You snuggled a little deeper into your sleep and Eddie tucked the blanket in a little tighter, his heart pounding with every second.

And before he could talk himself out of it, he dropped a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

Once in a while we have to do the pining, I guess 🙄

Very veeeeeeeeeery loosely inspired by that scene in New Girl where Jess is on painkillers. Ty for reading - love you, mean it!

[munson-enthusiast]

Down on all fours

Part One | Part Two

Blurb: After you unwillingly come clean about your undying love for Eddie Munson, your life is swept into a whirlwind of deceit, lust, confusion and regret… and glitter that Eddie can’t seem to shake from his pockets.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Warnings: 18+, slight angst (?), alcohol consumption, reader referred to as girl, cheating/unfaithfulness, drugs mentioned (weed), mentions of blood, depictions of violence, cursing, bodily insecurity, implied sexual themes. Character are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @cafekitsune

The movie theatre would never be the same anymore— not to you. Not since that day. A place once associated with joy and child like wonder, where you watched your beloved characters come to life on the big screen and where you could laugh openly, unattractively and purely with your friends.

Tainted. Forever changed.

But not forgotten. Never forgotten.

The memories have been eating you alive, feasting on your insecurity and your shame. Despite the look of fearful regret on Eddie’s face, you still thought about him.

Day and night— morning and noon. Before you slept and before you awoke each morning. He even infiltrated your dreams. Dreams are meant to be sacred, private affairs and yet, Eddie Munson still ruled them like the King of all of your desires. His ring clad fingers were still clutching onto your heart— squeezing and loosening his grip around the vital organ as he saw fit. He had the upper hand; the control.

He always did. He always has.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face them— any of them. Not Steve, not Robin, not Chrissy and especially not Eddie. It was peculiar, the addictive need to see Eddie no matter the cost— no matter the humiliation. It out weighed every sane thought you had.

You would steal glances at him from across a room, hiding in plain sight. Desperate for the shadows to claim you as their own; for the walls to hug you back. You felt other worldly, as if your soul was floating outside of your body and you had no rational feeling. No say. No voice.

Confessions should be freeing; but you have never felt so trapped. Chained. Soul tied.

Love conquers all, but love also might just conquer you.

-

It’s mid-week, and although college parties always attract unwanted attention you could never have prepared to see this many people crashing your family home. Precious photos were knocked over, the smashed glass from the frames line the top of shelves and cabinets- glittering them in a forbidden pixie dust.

Your bedroom has been occupied by a couple you didn’t recognise and if it weren’t for the pleasant buzz of alcohol coursing through your blood you most certainly would have screamed at them to leave. The sicker parts of you were envious of their engagement. Their human closeness and connection.

Why couldn’t you have that? Didn’t you deserve that?

So instead of blowing your top, you roll your eyes and scoff before slamming the familiar door obnoxiously loud and coke to nest at the bottom of the staircase; the wood is hard and cold against your bare thighs which causes you to pay some uncomfortable attention to your outfit. Sparkly, twinkly and stupid.

Your heart sinks to the abysmal pit at the bottom of your stomach at the realisation that nobody here really knows what this party is for. Who it is for.

Your birthday streamers that once decorated the walls proudly have become unpinned from the concrete, cascading down the wall in a massive spiral and hiding the message written on the plastic.

Happy birthday!

Not a single person had uttered those words to you the whole night. Even on a day where you were meant- born to be celebrated, you have been forgotten. A bystander in your own life. An observer in a theatrical play written for you. About you.

And the humour of it all?

You were used to it now.

Nothing could break your heart; because it was already in pieces.

Shreds. Splinters. Fragments. Puzzle pieces never to be solved or mended again. A heart shaped hole stamped into your chest where someone once lived.

Cobwebs inhabit the vacant crevasse, dust gathering on the sensitive walls. The sensitive walls that have hardened into a volcanic crust.

The only thing left behind in your impenetrable fortress? A single crumpled envelope with Eddie’s name written on it in cursive. The ‘i’ in his name punctuated with a loveheart.

He was the only tenant you wanted living there. And in reality, he should have been evicted a long time ago.

But nobody said love was easy. Nobody warned you that it would be this hard, though, either.

Was love supposed to make you this low? Was it supposed to make you find your bearings at the bottom of a red fizzing cup? The carbonated bubbles in your drink seemed to be your only friend tonight.

Would it really be your birthday if you didn’t cry at least once? Or twice… or thrice.

“Hey! Does anyone have any weed?” Your quiet attempt at a yell comes out of your mouth in the form of a drunken hiccup and you are debating the possibility that you may have stood up too fast, “Anyone? No?” Frustrated you pinch the bridge of your nose as you sigh loudly into your hand, your ears met by silence from your peers.

“I might.” You can hear a comedic tweak in his voice and you swear you can feel part of you die on the inside.

“Steve,” You say through clenched teeth, forcing a smile, “I didn’t know you smoked?” You also weren’t aware that he would be here— but you can’t deny the attention that this party is demanding from the neighbourhood. You are partly surprised that the police haven’t been called yet, but your neighbours aren’t known to be snitches.

“I don’t usually,” he shrugs dismissively, “I didn’t know you were throwing a party? Thankfully word travels fast in this town, huh?” His elbow gently nudges into your arm playfully, “There’s no better time for me to give you this.” He hands you a small box that has been wrapped all too perfectly in a sage green wrapping paper; brought together with a pretty black tulle bow. For a moment you are totally stunned, eyes inflated as you gawk down at the gift in your slightly shaky hands.

“You…” you search for the words, lost in his kindness and when you finally gather enough courage to meet his sweet brown eyes you nearly drown in their depths, “You got me a gift?”

He flashes you one of his signature Steve smiles and your drunk brain can’t seem to comprehend if this is a joke of not.

“Of course I did? You’re one of my best friends!” His voice is a happy chime as he ruffles his fingers through his chestnut gelled hair, offering the stiff strands some movement. You notice his pupils flicking between your face and the present in your hands, one of his eyebrows raise with subtle confusion, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Yeah- yes! Yes, of course!” You set your empty cup down on a nearby table before your nimble fingers come to wrestle with the sticky tape, painted fingernails clawing like an animal to get to the goods inside. There is a nervousness that comes with the unwrapping of the gift and you don’t quite understand why. The moment feels significant… special. You finally feel somewhat special tonight.

Eagerly, Steve keeps his warm amber eyes trained on you. A soft, dreamy smile itching at his lips as he awaits your approval. You and Steve had been friends for such a long time, you even opened your college acceptance letters together in his family dining room with his parents. He had always been there for you, through everything. One of your best friends— possibly your only friend.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while— how have you been?” His voice is laced with genuine concern but all you can do is ogle at what is displayed in front of you. A shiny silver necklace that had been personalised to have your name dangling from the chain with small colourful charms decorating the metal plating sit inside of the small box that Steve had handed to you. It was beautiful. It was you. And not to mention… it perfectly matched your outfit.

“Shut up!” You gasp, picking up the chain from the safety of its box and dangling it in front of Steve’s face, the neon stream of lights from the party reflect off of its pristine surface, “Steve!! What the Hell? This is stunning!” You become a fit of excited girlish giggles and Steve shakes his head at your outburst, finding it adorable.

“You like it?” He is booming to be heard over the increasingly loud music and you squeal, fumbling with the latch on the chain.

“Like it? I love it! Thank you so much!” You reach around your neck, fighting to clip the necklace and Steve offers you a helping hand accompanied by an amused chucklez, “It’s perfect, Steve, truly! I love it, I love it!” You brush your hair over your shoulder, allowing Steve to access the chain and clasp it securely.

“There! Pretty as a picture.” He winks at you and you toy with your name displayed across your chest; an honest smile gracing your lips.

“Happy birthday.” His large palm rubs the flesh of your shoulder and you nod at him in acknowledgement. There is an after glow that lingers after Steve’s touch disappears and you are not even aware of where he wanders off to but when you realise that you are stood alone… you feel that all too familiar feeling start to creep it’s way back into your chest. An icy chill. A storm brewing.

“Steve?” You call out to him, however your voice is wasted with how small it was and goes totally unnoticed. Your eyes drink in the sea of dancing, sweating bodies around you. The number of people in your home is multiplying— like a deathly virus.

The perky smile falls from your cheeks and only then do you remember why you were even talking to Steve in the first place— you wanted some weed. You needed some.

Or did you?

You wanted to escape life. To feel free from the bounds of Eddie Munson, free from the shackles of your mind. This is the only way you knew how… sleep wasn’t an option— he could reach you there.

Even the darkest corners of your mind, where even the ghosts refused to venture, were haunted by Eddie— there was no fleeing from him. You were his.

But he was Chrissy’s.

-

You find yourself outside, sitting in the cool night air by the side of your house. Your face is flushed from the alcohol and your skin feels as though it is prickling with heat; fiery.

Your mini skirt hugs your hips and thighs and you fist the fabric, suddenly uncomfortable with the way your body looks in the garment. The way the flesh of your thighs squish the ground beneath you has you stifling a scream and you wrap your arms tightly around your torso to shield the rest of your body from the world.

Your eyes flicker and blaze with the mirrored light from the street lamps, the orange hues meeting the chunky glitter that dominates your eyelids. The heavy makeup was starting to irritate your eyes, but you would do anything to seem half presentable. Anything to feel and look your best.

A choked laugh emits past your lips; it was ludicrous. How you had been exiled from your own birthday party. Left to the wolves of the wild. You didn’t mind too much— it meant you could finally take off this weighty mask you had been hiding behind all night. No more untruthful smiles, no more biting back teary eyes.

You could finally feel. And breathe.

However, your reign of peace and solitude doesn’t last long as your ears perk involuntarily at an all too recognisable thundering chuckle. This whole time, you had been preparing for him to show face and yet you have never felt so startled. A deer in headlights.

The chains around your wrists tighten as you stiffen, unable to move. Unable to respond or breathe or think.

Eddie had arrived.

“Woooah! Lookie’ here! If it isn’t the birthday girl,” Even in the dim light of the garden you can see his Cheshire smile examining you, “What you doing out here all alone, Sweetheart?”

Your breath remains lodged tightly in your throat, wound up like a coiled spring and you are unable to speak. It’s almost as if you are paralysed— has he hit you with a tranquillising dart? Or was that just his cologne that had you so wrapped up in everything that he is.

He called you sweetheart…

He called you sweetheart.

Sweetheart.

His sweetheart?

“Hello? Are you okay?” His hand waves in front of your face, causing you to blink and flinch momentarily at the sudden action, “Aren’t you cold out here?”

“No…” a whisper is all you could manage. It’s all you could afford to give him.

There wasn’t much of you left to give. Soon you would be this vacant polished shell of a human being— beautiful on the outside and hopeless on the inside.

“Okay, well… Happy birthday.” He nods at you enthusiastically, his voice like a siren song lulling you to your demise. He shoves his hands into his ripped jeans pockets, letting out an exaggerated shiver before he says, “Hey, have you seen Chrissy? She came here an hour ago and I haven’t really heard from her.” He tries to disguise the worry in his voice, but you can read him like a book. The way his hands are twitching from his pockets to rub anxiously at his neck, or how he bounces on the balls of his feet— the adrenaline causing him to be restless.

You wish Eddie could do the same with you. You wish he could see past this makeup and this charade. You wish he could recognise just how much that simple sentence had ruined your evening.

Of course he was here looking for Chrissy, why else would he have showed up? For you? Please. The thought alone was laughable.

“I didn’t even know she was here.” Your chin tilts to your shoulder where you can eye the large window looking on into your kitchen. The lights are out but there are neon fairy lights twinkling and illuminating the darkness. It’s almost as if you are looking through a kaleidoscope.

It had taken you hours to hang all of those lights, only to watch other people enjoy their warmth instead.

“You should come back inside, you don’t seem like you’re having a lot of fun out here in the dark.” Eddie takes a leisurely seat next to you and out of instinct you shuffle a few inches away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible, “Are you wasted? You’re being eerily quiet.”

“It’s a party, Eddie.” You sigh, answering him without leaving a single beat, an abrupt newfound confidence helps you to untangle your voice, “People get drunk at parties— I just wish I had some weed.”

It was ironic, wishing for weed as you talk to a weed dealer.

“Is that really your birthday wish? To have weed?” His shoulders bounce lightly as he laughs, his hands coming to find his coat pocket. You shrug in response to his question, tipping your head back and swallowing the last of what was left swirling around in the bottom of your cup.

The truth was, you hadn’t even lit your birthday candles yet. There hadn’t been a right time and you didn’t want to be that person. But if you had sparked those candles… you would have wished for him.

Not for weed. Not for money. Not for beauty or brains.

You would have wished for Eddie Munson.

“Here.” He is careful to take your hand into his, gently prying your fingers open and dropping a bud of weed into your palm before he is securing your fingers back over it, “It isn’t much, I know that but… if I could make your birthday wish a reality then I suppose that’s pretty alright, huh?” He holds your wrist loosely in his grip and your fuzzy brain can’t compute if you are dreaming or not.

You had expected fireworks from his touch— a massive explosion of technicolour and bright blinding lights.

But what you got was far more sensual than that. An electric shockwave travelled along your skin from your arm to your back, zapping down every vertebrae in your spine and coating your body in a blanket of goosebumps. Every single one of your hairs stood on end and this might have been the most alert you have felt all day. You felt awake. Resurrected. Alive.

“Are you sure?” You gulp, mouth suddenly dry, “I can pay you…” You start to frantically search your person for any sign of loose cash— your bra, did your skirt have pockets this morning? No. Where the Hell is your purse?

“No- no! This is a gift, from me to you! It’s your birthday for crying out loud!” Eddie is holding both of your wrists now, his attempt to still your nervous jittery movements, “Just enjoy it, okay? Just… just smile.” His deep pleading voice is painful as it enters your ears.

Just smile.

Smile? Weren’t you smiling?

“Thank you…” up until this point you hadn’t fully perceived just how close of a proximity you and Eddie were nestled at. His slight body leaning in closer to yours, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was within kissing distance and all you could do now was stare at his dimpled smile. The sight alone was enough to cause your own lips to tweak up at the corners.

“Do you know how to roll a joint?” Eddie could evidently sense the growing tension and he pulls away from you, not in a moment of disgust and terror— but out of respect. Attraction was clear but Eddie was like a loyal dog to Chrissy. There’s no way he would betray her.

“Oh- uhm… no, no I don’t.” You laugh slightly as you look down at the drugs held captive in your hand. Your skin being tinged with the ponging smell.

“Luckily for you, I’m a bit of a master at it.”

“Eddie?” A whimper. A whisper. Weak. Sorrow filled.

“Yeah?” His heavenly eyes had you questioning why thieves ever bothered to steal art— when you were looking at a masterpiece.

A pause. Nothingness. Expectation. Shadows.

“Why do you hate me?” The question is shuddered out through constricted teeth and you find an ungodly comfort in that familiar ache inside of your sternum, “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you-“

“But you don’t love me. You don’t… like me.” You push your feet into the soft earth, coming to stand shakily in front of Eddie’s seated frame, “Every time I look at you, I can't help but hope you feel the same butterflies in your stomach when you look back at me.” Your eyes settle on the empty street, the only noise circulating the neighbourhood was coming from inside your house. Thumping bass beating in harmony with your heart, “But deep down, I know all you feel is pity."

“That isn’t true and you’re being cruel.” Eddie launches to his feet, darting to stand in front of you, “Where is this coming from? If I have hurt you, I assure you that it was never my intention— I could never hurt you purposely.”

“You didn’t have to purposely hurt me, Ed’s. All I had to do was sit back and watch you love someone else. Someone better than me… that was enough to break my spirit.”

A disruption shakes the interior of your house, a commotion surfacing and you can hear the cheers and whistles from your peers. Eddie clocks it as well, and you can see a panic distort his puppy like features.

“Please can we talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober and… and we can both just figure this out? Please?” His hands find your shoulders, holding you steady as his chocolate orbs bear into yours. His attention is on you, but you can tell that his feet are ready to sprint indoors.

Quietly, you nod. Anything to please him. Anything to make him happy. Plus— you were also intrigued as to what was happening behind in you. Whatever it was, it had stirred up a whirlwind.

Eddie is quick to leave your side, like a whippet released onto a race track, taking the porch steps two at a time and you are hot on his heels. You are clumsy in your kitten heeled shoes, but you are right behind him.

‘I’ll follow thee and make a Heaven of a Hell.

To die upon the hand I love so well.’

William Shakespeare, Helena

-

“What’s going on?” You stagger into the shoulder of a Frat member, whispering an inaudible apology as he turns to glare down at you. Though, after he takes in your appearance his solid and annoyed expression softens into amusement and what you can only assume as blind lust.

“Harrington and Cunningham got caught banging in the bathroom— can’t believe you missed it! It was fucking priceless.” He drapes his heavy muscular arm over your shoulders and your knees nearly buckle beneath you at his weight pressing down on you.

“What?” You peek up at him through your eyelashes, clearly dazed. You have to make sure— you have to hear him say it again.

“Cunningham? Chrissy?” He is laughing rudely into your face and your nose scrunches distastefully at the stench of beer on his breath, “And Steve Harrington! They were fucking! He had her bent over the bathroom sink, man! His hands full of her hair— pretty sure the mirror is gonna be covered in lipstick!” Finally he unhooks his arm from around your neck and you feel like you may just float up to the ceiling.

You push away from him, using his massive hulking body to propel you further into the mob, your eyes desperate to find Eddie in the crowd. And when you do… it’s ugly.

Anguish, rage, indecision and fear blaze in Eddie’s tear glossed eyes. The gears inside of his head were working like clockwork and you knew where this was about to go as he stares murderously at Steve. Jaw wired tightly shut, nostrils flaring into bullet sized holes and fists so punishingly rigid that you can see the bones of his knuckles straining against his skin; turning his skin to a snow like shade of white.

Steve descends from the top of the staircase alone. His hair is tossed into a messy heap upon his sweat soaked head and you can read from his slumped and lazy stance alone that Steve is totally gone. His hands grasp the bannister, clinging onto the wood for dear life in hopes that he won’t fall down the steep steps.

“Eddie- no, don’t do it!” You try to move toward him as quickly as your boozy brain would allow, but it’s too late. Eddie is flying toward Steve like a bat out of Purgatory.

Time appears to speed up as you watch the violence unfold in front of you alongside the rest of chanting crowd. Eddie has smashed Steve against the wall by the collar of his shirt and you swear you hear some sort of cracking noise come from concrete from the connection of Steve’s back hurling into the plasterboard.

“Fuck! Guys, stop it!” Not only are you terrified of Steve getting beat to a pulp— but your parents would kick you out of the house if things got tarnished beyond repair. And that includes the paint work.

A brutish punch thrown by Eddie bursts Steve’s cheek open and you squeal in horror at the stream of pure gore that spurts from the gnarly wound, “Jesus Christ, Eddie!!” Marching up the staircase you wedge yourself between the two men and Eddie’s movements still. He allowed himself one punch. One good punch, as a warning and also as a courtesy. He didn’t want to frighten you and he also didn’t want to take advantage of Steve’s inebriated state.

One punch is all he needed to satisfy the sickening anger bubbling within him.

And then he fled— like a killer at a crime scene.

“Eddie! Wait- fuck!!” You curse, your hands finding your hair as you tug on the roots of the delicate strands. You are beyond stressed. All you can do is watch as Eddie weaves his way through the mosh pit of bodies who had all quickly gone back to dancing— like nothing had happened.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Steve blubbers next to you and you turn to him, your eyes widened with shock and distress but it doesn’t take long for your glare to become vexing.

“What did you do, Harrington?! If you weren’t already bleeding right now I would slap you in your goddamn face!” Your grip on him is scolding and hurried as you manage to help him down to rest on one of the wooden steps, your eyes unable to waver from the crimson leaking gash on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” His face rests in his hands as he breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. And just as you prepare to give him a bollocking of a life time, Chrissy emerges from sanctuary of the top floor, desperately trying to rescuer her bra straps back onto your shoulders. Her clothes are twisted sloppily around her body and she, too, is undoubtedly, totally, 110% fucking hammered.

Both your and the blondes eyes meet and your lips pinch downwards into a frown. Your head shakes disapprovingly and your mind is clouded with nervy thoughts for Eddie’s wellbeing and all you can conjure up to say to the dishevelled woman is;

“How the fuck did this happened?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae

[munson-enthusiast]

let's go, don't wait - the set list

modern!eddie’s been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the bars, he hasn’t been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. eddie enters the world of online dating, not having a great time. that is, until he meets you. the soundtrack - ongoing/frequently updated. part one part two part three (coming soon)

[munson-enthusiast]

Do you think MOB's ex would ever come looking for her one day?

mail-order bride

simon opens the door for you, taking your hand as you get out of his truck. you brush off the front of your jeans, smiling as you step around him and onto the sidewalk.

"said an hour or so?" simon mutters, shutting the door behind you. you nod, looking around at the shops.

"yeah, i just need some things, but i also wanna look around. maybe get some books or something...i don't know."

simon shrugs, flipping his hood up over his head. he bends to give you a kiss over the mask, and you thumb at his jaw gently.

"i'll pick ya up 'ere in an hour then," simon murmurs. "call me if ya need somethin', love. and if yer not back 'ere in an hour and ya haven't texted me, i'll come lookin' for ya."

you giggle, "i know, simon. i'll see you."

he smiles under the mask, you can tell by the way it moves and the way his eyes crinkle a little. you lean up and give him another kiss over the mask before making your way down the main road, stepping into a boutique to look for some new clothes. you wave at simon as he passes by, and he salutes you before driving off.

you love spending time in town. you love visiting the shops, getting pastries, having some tea by the bookstore and buying little trinkets from the antique shop. simon likes the cheese shop. they sell some of his favorite french cheese, and they have wonderful wines that they pair with it that you love drinking together for dinner. you pick up a bottle along with some cheeses and bread, and just as you leave the shop, you bump right into a solid back, dropping one of your bags and nearly tripping into the road.

"oh, fucking hell!"

you gasp, clutching the rest of your bags to yourself. the man turns around, glaring at you, and you feel sick.

what the fuck is he doing here?

"oh well...isn't this a wonderful surprise?" he snorts. you pick up your fallen bag and straighten up, stepping back to create distance between you.

"hi..." you clear your throat. "i...i'm meeting someone, i have to go--"

"oh, where are you going?"

he blocks you from stepping around him. you meet his eyes, taking a deep breath. he always liked being able to control every aspect of you, from where you stood to what you did that day. your skittishness...your apprehensiveness...it's ingrained in you from your time with him. it's hard to explain being afraid of someone who never even really touched you, but you left before you thought it could get that far.

"that's really none of your business," you say softly. "excuse me."

he sidesteps again when you do, and this time you frown.

"you..." you glare at him. "...need to get out of my way."

he grins, a humorless laugh coming out of him. you don't like the way he's standing there, and you don't like how calm he is.

"oh, i didn't realize little kitty had grown some claws."

maybe you have. you've started to shed your scared exterior, mostly because there is someone behind you now, someone bound to you, supportive enough to make you more confident, braver, stronger. you stand a little taller, clenching your jaw, and you close the distance, stepping closer, and you cant your chin up so you can look at him hard.

"i don't know what you're doing here," you say lowly, "but you need to get the fuck out of my way, or you're going to have some other problems that you certainly can't handle."

he raises a hand, about to touch the lapel of your jacket. you grip his wrist, holding him there, and you tilt your head to the side.

"and if you touch me, you'll be sorry for it. now step aside, asshole, or i will make it a very hard day for you."

"c'mon," he chuckles. "let's go get a drink. there's a pub just down that way--"

"what part of no, and get out of my way, makes you think i wanna have a drink with you?" you scoff. "are you serious? are you that stupid that you think--"

"you listen here," he snaps, pointing his finger, getting in your face. "it's not my fault that you're--"

you step backwards when a big hand comes around you, snatching his wrist and yanking his finger out of your face. you look to your side to see simon standing there, shuffling in front of you, putting himself between you.

"now, i don't much care for interrupting, but you've got y'r fuckin' finger in my wife's face, and i'd like to know why."

you take a glance at your watch, and you realize it's past the time simon said he would pick you up. you sigh, reaching up and sliding your hand up simon's arm, and he lets go.

"it's fine," you tell him. "he was just on his way out."

he's shaking. stumbling backwards, clutching his wrist, glancing between you two. simon holds his hand out finally, beckoning him.

"your wallet."

"w-what?"

"give me y'r bloody wallet," simon snaps.

"simon--" you try, but he clicks his tongue as he snatches the wallet from him, shuffling an ID card out before reading his name out loud, and his address. simon chuckles darkly, cracking his neck before tossing the wallet at his chest.

"i know y'r name," simon murmurs. "and i know where ya put y'r head at night. where ya piss. where ya change y'r clothes. if i ever see ya talk to my wife again...if i even see ya walk down the same fuckin' road as 'er, i'll come and visit you. and we'll 'ave a chat."

"r-right, i--" he stuffs his wallet into his pocket before leaving, hurrying down the road. he doesn't even look back, doesn't look behind him. when simon turns around, you can tell just by looking into his eyes that he's angry.

he reaches over and takes the shopping bags from you, holding them in his sweaty fists as he nods his head towards his truck down the road.

"let's go," he snaps, and you hurry to follow him, reaching for his bicep. you hold onto it gently, stopping him, tugging him towards you as you block him by stepping in front of him.

"simon," you look up at him. "hey--"

"who was tha'?" he asks.

"a terrible nobody," you say softly. "one that i would rather forget."

"i--"

"thank you," you interrupt him gently. "for standing up for me. thank you...thank you for always believing me. for supporting me. for always showing up when it matters, thank you..."

simon bends, leaning his forehead against yours, and he breathes in shakily.

"your pain is mine," simon mutters. "your...discomfort is my discomfort, your joy is my joy."

you both close your eyes, smiling, and he hums when he feels another kiss, soft, the lightest press against his mouth that he feels ten times stronger than normal.

"i love you, simon," you whisper. you hear the bags drop onto the floor, and then two big hands cup your face, leaning it back, and he stares down at you almost painfully. it feels like you aren't real. he feels like it must be a dream, like this can't be his reality.

"i love you more, baby."

but when simon opens his eyes, you're still there.

[munson-enthusiast]

Rockstar!Eddie x Childhood Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Eddie's got a new girlfriend, which means you get put on the back burner indefinitely. But there's only so much you can take.

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, rockstar!Eddie, takes place around 1989, drinking/tipsiness, Eddie is an idiot, kinda insecure!Reader

--

Lena was beautiful. 

There was no denying that. You’d seen how beautiful she was the night Eddie had picked her from the crowd, dark makeup and denim miniskirt that ended mid-thigh. She walked backstage like she owned the place, with a confidence you could only envy from afar. 

You were used to it: Eddie would find a groupie, they’d hook up for the night, and then she was all but forgotten as Corroded Coffin moved to their next tour destination.

But not Lena. She’d been around for the last six months. Always touching Eddie, kissing him, drawing him in with her gorgeous eyes. She was everything he wanted, and she knew it.

You tried to get along with her and get to know her; after all, she was your best friend’s girlfriend. You asked her to grab a cup of coffee, to hang out at the mall, to get your nails done at the salon. All three times, she’d turned you down with some half-hearted excuse. 

And now she was here, at your birthday party. Her legs were draped over Eddie’s as they sat on the couch, his arm around her and her fingers in his hair. All you could focus on was his smile, that same dopey grin he used to give to Chrissy Cunningham whenever she’d give him an iota of attention back in high school. 

Eddie Munson was smitten, and he had no intention of hiding his feelings.

You downed your drink, the harsh taste of vodka burning your throat, and quickly poured yourself another one. What was the saying? It’s my party, and I’ll drink myself into a stupor if I want to? Something like that.

“Hey, Birthday Girl. You okay?” Gareth spoke up, yanking you from your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized he was beside you. “I haven’t seen you drink this much since the Grammys afterparty.”

You nodded, your head heavy with tears and liquor and lies. “Fine. Just…tired.”

Gareth scoffed. “Tired of watching Eddie and Lena tonguing each other, you mean?” Your wince betrayed your indifferent facade, and Gareth laughed softly. “Yeah, me, too.” He took a swig of his own drink and continued. “I mean, I get it. She’s hot as hell, but she’s also kinda–”

“Bitchy?” The word escaped you before you could stop it, another effect of the booze.

“You said it, not me.” Gareth raised his cup in a pseudo-toast. “But, yeah. Tour went from being about the band to being the Lena Show. And if you try to push back even a little, she just pouts and whines to Eddie that we’re being mean to her.”

You rolled your eyes. There was a freedom that came with confiding in Gareth, with no longer having to keep your feelings to yourself. “He used to call me at least once a week,” you say of Eddie, “and I figured that would change once he got a girlfriend. But the last time he called me was…two months ago.”

Could you even count that? It was just Eddie saying that the tour was good and that he’d be at your party–with Lena, of course. No silly stories from the road, no play-by-play of the shows, no begging for you to come see them again soon. It was as if you’d been a temporary placeholder until a better option came along.

And now, here she was, leaving red lipstick marks on his cheek. Staking her claim.

Eddie was never yours–not like that. Not in the way you wanted him to be yours. You’d been best friends since high school, and your crush had only blossomed from there. You were drawn to him the moment you saw him command the room during Hellfire, crafting and weaving a tale of a fantastical world with magnificent and terrifying creatures. It was as though you could see it right in front of you.

That storytelling talent extended to his songwriting. Sure, some of the songs were about the heartbreak that comes with being a teenager, but so many others were rooted in big problems: war, poverty, and the general injustices of the world. You were in awe of the way his eyes saw beyond the tiny borders of Hawkins.

Gareth slung an arm around you and pulled you close. Though you’d never told him about your crush on Eddie, he knew. All of Corroded Coffin knew—and probably all of the old Hellfire crew, too. Everyone but Eddie. 

“It’ll be okay,” Gareth murmured. “He’s an idiot. He’s always been an idiot, but with her, it’s amped up. Stupidity on steroids.”

You laughed at that despite the sadness brewing within you.

“Go enjoy your party. You deserve it.”

Heeding his advice, you pried yourself from the kitchen counter and over to some of the other guests. You managed to have fun, pushing away the nagging reminder of heartbreak just feet away. It got easier as the night went on—until it didn’t. 

“Baby,” you heard Lena whine. “This party sucks. I wanna go back to the hotel.”

Say no, you silently willed Eddie. Tell her that you want to stay. Tell her that she can leave, but you’re going to stick around and—

“Yeah, babe. We can go.”

Four words that anchored a pit in your stomach. He didn’t even consider an alternative option. Lena was his only priority. 

You blinked back the tears in your eyes as he said his half-hearted goodbye. Lena stood behind him, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Super fun party,” she drawled, donning a saccharine smile. “So sorry we have to leave early.” With that, she grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him out of your apartment. 

The rest of the night was a blur. Even as you ate birthday cake and talked with other guests, your focus stayed on the remnants of your friendship with Eddie. Of course dynamics changed when friends got partners. But to be completely iced out? That couldn’t be normal. It shouldn’t be normal.

You decided that night that you were done. The friendship was already beyond repair. It wasn’t Lena’s fault, though it would be much easier to blame her and keep pretending that Eddie was still the same thoughtful guy from Hawkins High. No, Eddie was the problem, and the solution was letting him go.

Weeks went by, then months, with no word from Eddie. The first few days hurt, your heart still convinced that he’d call and apologize for bailing on the rest of your party. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ that might spark a flicker of hope.

It got easier after a while. You filled your days with work and friends. When you heard a Corroded Coffin song on the radio, you simply changed the station without tears falling. And when Entertainment Tonight declared that “a young woman previously linked to Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson was spotting cozying up to a more popular band’s lead singer,” you only chuckled and snapped off the TV.

The first call came a week later when you were at work. Your answering machine button flashed red, and you pressed play to hear the new message.

Hey, um, it’s me.

You froze, your blood icing over in your veins.

I know it’s been a while, but…a lot has happened. And I’ve been thinking, and I really wanna see you. Talk to you. I miss you. Um, the tour just finished, so I’ll be back in Hawkins. Let me know when you’re around.

Absolutely not. There was no way you’d talk to him again, and you finalized that decision by erasing the message.

But two days later, there was another one.

Hey, it’s me again. I was talking to Gareth, and he told me that I royally fucked up. Which I kinda knew, but hearing it from him…yeah.

Anyway, um, I don’t wanna just hang out–I mean, I do, but I wanna apologize first. In person, i-if that’s okay. I think my first message made it sound like, ‘Hey, let’s go grab a drink and bullshit around,’ but I want to say that I’m sorry. Shit, I’m rambling. Okay, I’m gonna go now. Bye.

And then another the day after that.

Okay, so, you don’t wanna meet up in person, and I get that. But I still want you to know how sorry I am, so I’ll just say it here, I guess. I never should have pushed you aside like that. I got caught up in everything with the band and the tour and…and her, and…y’know. That’s not an excuse or anything, just…explaining my series of fuck-ups. I miss you so much, and I wish we could just be friends again. I know it’s not that easy, but…fuck, I fucked this up. I’m really sorry, and you don’t have to forgive me–shit, Wayne’s home. I’ll talk to you later. Or, um, talk to your voicemail, I guess.

Wayne was home. That meant that Eddie was twenty minutes away from you, leaving voicemails from his uncle’s trailer. You grabbed your jacket, willing yourself to stay focused on the road as you drove to Forest Hills. That asshole wanted to talk to you in person, but couldn’t even stammer out a genuine apology over the phone?

You knocked on the trailer door so hard that your knuckles ached by the time Eddie opened it.

“Wha–did you get my messages?” His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you standing before him.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “You mean the ones with your half-assed apologies? Yeah, I got ‘em.”

Eddie took a step back. “No, no, I meant them. I really am sorry.”

“Convenient how you found time to be sorry once your girlfriend started fucking someone else,” you seethed. “Couldn’t squeeze out a minute to call after you ditched me on my birthday, but you’ve got plenty of time to grovel now.”

“That’s not–she wasn’t good for me,” he supplied lamely.

You couldn’t help the snort you let out. “What, did she hold the phone hostage? Did she pick you up and carry you out of my party? You,” you jabbed your forefinger into his chest, “are the reason we don’t talk. Not her.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” You snapped. “Because I have a feeling that you think this is on Lena. And maybe she didn’t help, but she certainly didn’t force you to be a shitty friend.”

Eddie rubbed his palm over his eyes. “I know,” he repeated, the frustration evident in his tone. “I…I was a shitty friend. I never should have left your party early, and I should’ve stayed in touch with you. I should’ve listened to the guys when they warned me that you wouldn’t keep putting up with my bullshit for much longer.”

You felt a spark of reassurance that the other band members had stood up for you, but you kept your attention on what you needed to say. What you needed him to hear.

“And now what? You’re back in Hawkins, no groupies around to keep you company, so you figure it’s a good time to reach out to me?” You stepped closer to him as you spoke. “I’m not your back-up plan when your life comes crashing down. I’m a goddamn person, Eddie! And you just threw me away like our friendship meant nothing to you.”

He was silent for a few moments, his sweat sock-covered foot grinding into the carpet. His hair fell in front of his face, but you could still see him chewing on the inside of his cheek as he considered his next words.

“Gareth told me…he told me that you liked me,” Eddie said softly. “Like…more than just a friend.” With trepidation, he looked into your eyes, tears forming in his own. “And he said I’m an idiot for not seeing what was in front of my face the whole time. A really beautiful woman who has always been there for me. Who never gave up on me, whether I was playing to five drunks at the Hideout or to sold-out stadium crowds.”

“Right. All of the things I’ve done for you. But what have you done for me? How have you been my friend?” You waited for him to respond, but he said nothing. “Exactly. I was just a groupie you never fucked.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of pride wash over you at his utter shock. “I’m–”

“I know you’re sorry. I got it.” You pivoted on one heel and turned your back to him, starting towards your car. Before you got there, you called out over your shoulder. “And if you leave me another pathetic voicemail, I’ll throw my answering machine through your window.”

Then you drove off, leaving him standing where you left him, just as alone as you’d felt all this time.

--

[munson-enthusiast]

LIKE A LOT OF GREAT WRITERS ON TUMBLR, I WOULDN’T BE ANYWHERE WITHOUT PEOPLE BOOSTING MY FICS + ALL OF YOU READING AND LOVING THEM! SO HERE I AM DOING MY DUE DILIGENCE AND PAYING RESPECT TO SOME OF MY FAVORITES FICS OF ALL TIME.

PS EVERY ONE OF THESE FICS IS 18+ MUCH LIKE THE WRITERS WHO ARE WRITING THESE FICS, IF YOU NOT 18+ KINDLY FIND YOUR WAY TO WATTPAD, OR MAY I SUGGEST NICKELODEON?

LOVE ME RIGHT by: @munson-blurbs

(billy x reader eddie x reader)

summary: Billy Hargrove is into you, and you assume that you don't deserve better than that narcissistic douchebag. When heartbreak inevitably happens, Eddie Munson is there to pick up the pieces.

ziggys take: this story was self indulgent for bug as she wrote it from personal experiences, Eddie sweet angel bb comes to the rescue as always and just like the tittle loves you right. Billy, gtfo, Bug— I would be nowhere without you and your eternal guidance.

AS YOU WISH by: @corroded-hellfire

Summary: when Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him.

Ziggy’s take: FUCK BRITTANY. She sucks. This fic— goddamn. Red, you’ve hit this one so far out of the park it’s in the pond and the fish are reading it also yelling fuck Brittany. Would i fuck Eddie if i babysat his kids? YES AND YES sign me up.

COLORS by: @loveshotzz

Summary: you knew it was wrong to have a crush on your best friends, dad, but it was the last Christmas break before college graduation. You had to take your chance.

Ziggy’s take: swear to god I was never into Steve until this color series came out. Proud member of the HATE JENNY train. This fic will make you want to fuck your friend’s hot dad and wish he would take you to a hotel over new years. Rumor is that part 4 is being written, I’m ready with my arms and legs open Leighanne. I will need to be sedated when it’s over.

THE YES POLICY: @pinkrelish

Summary: after a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn’t exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.

Ziggy’s take: We love it, we love miss mouse. Eddie drunk dancing with her while Adrie watches, yes. I swear to god each chapter gets better and better. Tumblr dot fucking com is respectfully, patiently waiting for the smut chapters. It’ll probably break the server all together when it posts. And bitch, I’m here for it.

PATIENCE: by: @newlips

Summary: one night int he summer of ‘81, both sixteen, you and Eddie each make a different decision that changes the course of your lives, dreadfully in love, eddie takes the heat for your crime and it lands him behind barbed wire fences and bars. Ten years later, when he’s finally free, he still hasn’t heard from you since that fateful night.

Ziggy’s take: when I say I will cry tears of joy and when these blurbs come out I’m not joking. Get your ass over to Cece’s blog and read these. Eddie taking the fall for something you did and he goes to prison? Sign me up and fuck me within an inch of my life, pls and thanks.

STEDDIE X READER SET LIST by: @carolmunson

Ziggy’s take: I think I read these on her old blog, first, before I was writing, but you wanna be in a relationship with Eddie and Steve and Steve is daddy and uses a belt and is kinda a lowgrade psycho? Here ya go, fucker. It’s so hot. Every single one of these stories is like liquid fire on your pussy. You’ll want to fuck your bf/gf/husband/or yourself with each paragraph. Carol, you’re the sadist queen and we all bow at your feet.

EMBARRASSING by: @boomhauer

Summary: Emerson!Reader (Gareth’s cousin) is having a hard time fitting in at Hawkins. At Gareth’s request, Y/N tries better to be like everyone else. Eddie reminds her who she is.

Ziggy’s take: THIS IS IT. This, is the fic that got me into writing in the first place. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve reread it but Boom put her whole Vecnussy into this and Disjointed. Gareth is such a little whiner in this I wanna slap him, but Eddie feeding the raccoons leftover donuts? Yes. 1,000x yes. You’ve always been a huge inspiration to me.

EVERMORE by: @abibliophobiaa

Summary: Eddie loved you, he still loves you, but he’s not the man he was before.

Ziggy’s take: CRYING, STILL. My god— you wanna get fucked in the ass by a fic? This is the one for you. It’s so beautifully sad you will be tearing up until you’re out of Kleenex. Seriously, i scream yelled through discord after I finished this. Lol it’s a beautiful story and if you haven’t— READ IT.

FREAKY FRIDAY by: @jo-harrington

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on) and Steve just can’t believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck. Must be nice But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Ziggy’s take: I loved the Lindsay Lohan version of this movie so much my sister and I would reenact it. This is too fucking good, and I can’t wait for more parts to come out— Jo you’re a fucking rockstar for writing this. I love you, and this fic.

LINECOOK! EDDIE by: @jadequeen88

Ziggy’s take: When I say I think everyone who has ever worked in the food industry at any point in time as felt this way about the line cooks. They’re disgusting, but so hot at the same time. Always smoking, always have vein protruding fore arms. Goddddddd. Fuck me pls.

EVEN AS A SHADOW, EVEN AS A DREAM by: @the-wild-wolves-around-you

Summary: Eddie wakes up in the upside down, and he is not the same

Ziggy’s take: this fic is amazing. You’ll cry for the way Obi cares for Eddie. It’s so breathtakingly sweet. I read this before I started writing and I was obsessed.

IN THE COLD NOVEMBER RAIN by: @sweetsweetjellybean

Ziggy’s take: I’ve talked about this fic so many times I just embarrass the shit out of myself each time because I actively cry about it for days at a time. You’ll love Steve then hate him, then love him again, you’ll love Eddie, hate him, then love him again. This fic is heartbreaking on levels I won’t even get into. Jelly is a beautiful writer, I’m simply obsessed with this story and will NEVER stop gushing over it. Don’t like it? Get over it.

BOUND TO THE FLOOR by: @kissmyacdc

Ziggy’s take: THIS FIC. Wowow if you wanna hate reader’s piece of shit boyfriend and cheer for Eddie all in one fic, this is it for you babe. The last chapter was so intense, and don’t even get me started on how protective! Eddie came into play cause hotttttt damn.

SHE DRIVES ME CRAZY (CAMP STEVE) by: @upsidedownwithsteve

Ziggy’s take: who know Steve could be such a hot asshole? This fic made me even more pissed that i was never allowed to go to away from home camp for the summer. Sigh. Maybe this year lollll I’m 30 bye.

TO KNOW YOU’RE MINE: by: @blue-mossbird

Summary: You know the rules. You’d been there when your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, discussed them with the others. There are only two. […]

Ziggy’s take: hate Chrissy, in this fic she’s such an annoying bitch, but Eddie? Ummpph. Bluey describes everything so beautifully the way that reader grows throughout this series is heartwarming.

24 HOURS by: @ghost-proofbaby

Ziggy’s take: I’m late to the game on this one, but slowly reading— anytime Eddie is a dick I want to be there to witness it. And this fic is just that. PLS put a baby in me and Eddie can marry us both, thanks love you bb.

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT IN DETENTION: by @mypoisonedvine

Summary: Eddie’s chances of being an alpha are quite small. Your chances of presenting as an omega, especially while still in high school, are almost none, almost.

Ziggy’s take: I read this back in august, I think maybe september— waaaay before I even started writing myself. I wasn’t even sure what ABO was, but Jesus take the fucking wheel from Carrie Underwood’s hands…. This is the most mouth watering primal hottest ABO smut on the planet.

PUT ME THROUGH IT, BABY by: @agentmarvel

Summary: Eddie knows he’s fucked. He’s been fucked since the day he met you, and he’ll be perma-fucked for the rest of time if he can’t find the right way to show you how head-over-heels in love he is. But there’s just one problem…You have a boyfriend.

Ziggy’s take: oooooh baby, the way Eddie respectfully pines for her will make you so fucking feral for this man. The imagery, the detailing.. FUCK this is so good. Reader’s boyfriend needs to find a switchblade to his neck and fall over with it. I love this and you bb, can’t wait to read the other delightful fics your crazy ass comes out with!

I will be doing this probably every other week— I have so many fics to recommend these are the ones I just thought of off the top of my head! Didn’t even to the Tom Grant fics that are out there or any of JQ’s other characters but i will leave that for another week.

[munson-enthusiast]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶On Monday, he was a ghost. By Friday, he was a man. Saturday night? He was the unintentional third wheel to your and Adrie's Trick-or-Treating antics.✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, reader wears eddie's jacket, light angst, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 4/20 [wc: 10.8k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 4: Ghost Days

Eddie went through Monday like a ghost.

A spectacle in his youth, now a specter. A phantasm phasing through walls. Not a hello, nor a goodbye. Existing in the corners of the room, watching. No attention on him, just working, and thinking. Tending to his dying garden of thoughts when the sun didn’t shine. Moving around you, and the tug of your gravitational pull, with your gaze firm on the desk in front of you, not on the haunt who brought this upon himself, and hurt you in the process.

“You okay, Eddie?” his uncle asked, running a hand up and down his back. “You’ve been staring at that pot of boiling water for ten minutes.”

Eddie fluttered his lashes at the bubbles bursting on the surface. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind.”

————

Tuesday, Wednesday he was a full-body apparition.

No morning smiles, no afternoon laughter, but a single sentence.

“Oh!” You hugged the files to your chest, not knowing Eddie was passing in the hallway to break room right as you were leaving Mr. Moore’s office. Several of the papers crinkled from running into him. Your eyes were screwed shut, expecting an impact. All signs Eddie was real; a thing of worth, a precious brick wall who cupped your arm when you stumbled, who slotted his thumb in the crease of your inner elbow. A chest to brace your hand against. Fingers grasping his dirty coveralls. He was there. He caught you.

And the next day–

“Eddie?”

Your sudden presence scared him. He slammed his black spiral-bound notebook shut and kept his palm over the devil-horned skull he drew on the front.

Sat alone at the table to eat his lunch, the low drone of the vending machines camouflaged the sound of you approaching, and he was too absorbed bin what he was writing down to notice you had entered the break room. Did not realize how close you had gotten until the heel of your palm pressed into a particularly sore muscle in his back from how you steadied yourself on his chair as you bent over.

You picked your gaze up from the notebook, and landed on his eyes. Even if you didn’t mean to, the knot between your brows relaxed the smallest degree–a nearly imperceptible amount–but with how he drank in your appearance, he detected it.

“You wrote O2 for this part here, did you mean X2?” you asked, referring to the invoice in your hand. He watched you bring the question to life. Voice and lips working together to create a lullaby for the unrest in his head. Breath cooling the wet trace of his tongue on his lips.

He was desperate for interaction. He knew. You were too. You just hid it better.

“Eddie,” you reminded him, keen on the five-o’clock-shadow peppering his cheek from neglecting a shave.

If things were different, would you have caressed your thumb along the grain? Would you have pushed his bangs off his forehead, run your fingers through his hair, and pressed your lips to the delicate curve of his temple? Would you tell him he was a good dad for fixing the water heater again, and getting his daughter to school on time, even when he wanted to do nothing more than lay on the couch and cry?

“X2,” he confirmed, “Yeah, I meant X2. Sorry.”

————

Thursday? He was corporeal.

Carl returned from his stay-cation. Stay-at-home-vacation, also known as his wife’s birthday.

He was taking a break in his story to microwave his lasagna when the fading voice of a customer went out the front door, ringing its chime. There was shuffling in the lobby. A backpack being unzipped.

The microwave beeped, and Carl picked up his container with the tips of his fingers, bringing it over to the table, where he sat in the chair facing the hallway.

You walked in with your lunch container, saw the back of Eddie’s head, and walked out.

Carl watched Eddie’s demeanor wilt at the swift exit, gaze falling to the corner of his eyes in acknowledgement of where you were just standing. Face blank, except for the heavy depression drifting his eyelids half-closed. Posture sagged more than normal.

“Is Adrie excited for Saturday?” Carl asked, keeping the conversation light, because boy, did he know that heartbroken look.

“Mm?” Eddie jerked his head up, attentive. He processed the question, and crowded his packed mish-mash of leftovers to his chest, chewing his horrible attempt at replicating Wayne’s pork chop supper as he talked, “Oh, yeah, yeah. Free candy and seeing her friends? She’s been bouncing off the walls all week.” He stabbed an undercooked carrot and brandished it with the same motion he rolled his eyes. “But,” he drew out for comedic effect, “She wanted to dress up as a bat again. Great! Same as last year. No problem, right? So, I take out her costume from the closet, have her try it on, and you know what she says?”

Carl shook his head with a slow grin stretching across his face.

“It’s not pretty enough!” Eddie ate the carrot. “She never wants to be a princess, but all her friends do, and now she’s gotten it in her head that if her costume doesn’t have the same glitter and pizzazz theirs does, it’s not good enough.”

He laughed, “My boys were easier. When they fought over who got to be Donatello, and who got to be Michaelangelo, all we had to do was switch mask colors and weapons.”

“See, they knew what they were doing with the Ninja Turtles, man. Easiest costumes to reuse.”

“Exactly.”

“Now I gotta figure out how to navigate telling her most of the stores are sold out of everything.”

“It’s a toughie, that’s for sure.”

The conversation ended with two knowing nods, sharing the same shallow gripes about parenthood. Carl finished his meal first, and left the table to return to work, while Eddie picked away at his, submerging himself in his thoughts.

A recent drizzle cast Hawkins in a misty haze. The drink machine clicked, and the steady hum rose to a higher frequency. Footsteps squeaked down the hallway. The nervous hand of a once confident woman gripped the doorframe, and she leaned into the room, speaking in a small voice, “I can help.”

Eddie perked up. Head visibly lifting, shoulders drawn back and down. He didn’t respond. Not until he turned around in his chair, and you persevered through the awkward amount of eye contact; wide and unblinking.

You reiterated, “I can help fix up Adrie’s costume so it’s glittery.. Or whatever you said.” Totally not eavesdropping. You waited for a response. “More her style,” you mumbled, filling the void when he forgot what words were.

“Y-Yeah! That–Uhm.. Yeah, you have that kind of stuff?” He clutched onto the back of his chair, knuckles white, bending the plastic from the weight he leaned on it. His face was of equal intrigue, eyes pleading for more interaction, lips parted for more questions, eyebrows pinched in and upwards to show his humility. His thanks.

In a valiant effort for normalcy, you started with a self-deprecating comment, “I mean, it’s not like I was performing on Broadway with a whole costuming department’s worth of tailors, you know. Bobbie and I had to pull all-nighters to finish our own shitty ensembles, so I’m pretty handy with a glue gun, and my sewing skills are serviceable, if I do say so myself.” You stepped further into the break room to put your unfinished lunch in the fridge. “I have tons of fabric and crafting supplies left over. Seriously, I don’t mind spicing up her costume if you wanna bring it by tomorrow. I think I can make something she likes.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to–”

His mouth sealed itself shut at the incremental smirk sneaking its way across your face.

“Well, you see,” you said, exuding pure charisma, “Now you’ve gone and phrased it in a way which enacts my policy. I have to say ‘yes.’”

Given his current state, Eddie was little more than a mess of nerves; sleeping in uncomfortable positions that had his bones aching due to Adrie’s fear of monsters under her bed sending her to sleep with him on the couch; along with the general up-and-down rush of stress when he passed by your desk, and nothing came of his sad glance in your direction.

Unfiltered relief slipped past his chapped lips as he looked up at you, “Thank you.”

————

By Friday, he was a man.

Eddie skipped his morning cigarette. He wore his lucky Metallica t-shirt under his coveralls. Adrie had to beg him to release her from his powerful hug this morning, flailing her arms and pretending to choke, until the other parents in the carpool lane stared, and he relented.

He walked into the garage’s lobby with sure steps, making a quick stop behind the receptionist desk to drop off a neatly folded pile of black fabric. Then, he looked down the shadowed hallway leading to the lively break room, and he breathed deep.

You were framed by the doorway. Your back was to him, bent over the sink, just beginning to wash the coffee pot.

One thing was for certain.

If anything ever happened between you two and it didn’t pan out, work would be weird. That much he learned this week. And that was just another reason to keep his boundaries up. Another good fucking reason to apologize, turn around, and go back to being cordial work buddies, and have that be the extent of your relationship.

And yet, here he was, flirting with the ring of fire he lit himself.

Crossing his arms, he squeezed his biceps, and leaned his shoulder on the wall outside the room, mind racing as he organized the same speech he rehearsed hundreds of times this morning. “Can we talk?”

Now, the unfortunate thing about rehearsing one-sided speeches was the unpredictability of which you’d follow the script.

“If you’re here to apologize–again–for spending a runtime of 83 minutes with me because it was just that awful, I’ll scream.”

Eddie had to manually force himself to relax out of his wince. “I deserved that,” he exhaled, speaking to himself only. He deserved your stern tone, your angry way of scrubbing the pot. The stiffness between your bunched shoulders. The tight annoyance in your throat from the way he treated you.

Yesterday was a nice break from the tension, but he hadn’t yet made amends, despite the olive branch you extended to him in the form of fixing up his daughter’s costume. “What if I apologized for something else?”

“The jury’s still out on that one.”

“Good enough,” he said. “Listen, ah, I’ve been reflecting on what happened Friday, and I realized I came across like an asshole,” –He shut his eyes, and shook his head– “I was an asshole, whether I meant to be, or not. I mean, yeah, I had a lot on my mind, but that doesn’t justify my behavior in blowing you off like that, especially when you were nothing but nice to me when you saw they set us up together, and you just wanted us to have a good time.. I can tell I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”

You rinsed out the soap suds and filled the pot with water, turning off the sink.

There, he apologized, now he should turn around, and go back to being cordial work buddies.

But he was so fucking stupid.

Committing to something he may come to regret, he entered the break room and stopped when he came to the counter beside the sink, bending sideways to rest his arm there, and kicking out his hip. “I didn’t even get to tell you how pretty you were.”

Immediately, you angled yourself away to pull the coffee machine towards you, and poured water into the reservoir.

Eddie let out a groan as his brain caught up with his mouth. “I meant are. How pretty you are..” he spoke at your back while you still refused to acknowledge him. “I meant to say how pretty you are.”

His stomach seized. None of this was going how he planned, so.. fuck it. “I think you’re really pretty right now, actually.”

Nothing seemed louder than his quick breaths, and heart beating in his throat.

The longer you went silent, he considered getting a new job bagging groceries for the supermarket they built on Cherry Street last year.

You slotted the pot onto the hot plate, and opened the cabinet in front of you, blocking his view of you as you reached for the coffee container. But when you closed the door, he had to clench the tremble of annoyance out of his hands.

Try as you might–lips scrunched to the side, cheeks sucked in, making a big production of counting the spoonfuls of grounds you scooped into the filter basket–your smile was obvious. Obvious, and irritating; leading him on as if his advances were a worse offense than his attitude after your date.

“Fine, fine,” you sighed like you were doing him a favor. “I guess you’ve appealed to my ego enough for me to forgive you.”

“You’re the absolute worst person I’ve ever–”

“Yeah. But you think I’m pretty.”

“Whatever,” Eddie grunted, tugging a strand of hair over his mouth, embarrassed to hear his own honesty repeated back at him. “So we’re good?”

You had a sarcastic statement ready on your tongue–he saw it in how you narrowed your eyes, and tipped your head. A loftiness to the way you regarded him; all pompous and teasing and so sure he was being silly and asking questions for the sake of bothering you.

Then, you witnessed his shy quirk, and were instantly disarmed.

“Yes, Eddie, we’re good. The best of friends.. And are you sure you weren’t disappoint–”

“If you’re about to ask me if I was disappointed that you were my date for the third time, I’ll scream.”

You laughed. You tore your gaze from his fingers playing with his curls, and closed the lid of the coffee machine, but in doing so, you turned away, and you both discovered a subtle truth about him.

Eddie was the type who wanted to witness the full scope of the joy he brought on others. When he made someone laugh, he wanted to drink it all in. He wanted to observe the exact way they smiled, how far back they threw their head, if their eyes closed with mirth, if tears sprang, if they giggled to appease him, or if they were expelling a cathartic release. When he made someone happy, he leaned in to hoard the revelry, collect it, and share it. Seeking out their gaze, mirroring them to experience their pleasure first-hand. It’s what made him happy.

It caused him to encroach on their personal space subconsciously, pursuing the pride, and sense of achievement he felt when he accomplished making someone else feel good.

He stood close to you. Very close to you, studying you unabashedly, basking the pure unadulterated validation of making you smile.

You idly scratched your thumbnail over a stain on the counter. “Pretty, huh?” you mused quietly. “Is the hoodie really doin’ it for ya?” It was once black, now sun-faded and overwashed. There was a logo on the front for a random high school. Your high school, Eddie assumed. Clearly, a beloved item, and one you wore when doing craft projects, as indicated by the layers of glitter, dried paint, and burn marks from a hot glue gun marring the sleeves.

Still leaned over, he dropped his hand from his mouth, and swept his hair to one side, exposing the length of his throat. “Maybe it is.”

“Shut up,” you snorted.

“The frumpy ‘just rolled out of bed at noon and forgot to get milk at the grocery store’ look really gets me going.”

“Frumpy–?” In the middle of pressing the ON button and shoving the coffee machine into its place on the counter, you went to pin Eddie with a glare for laying the teasing remarks on thick today, but your attention drifted. Your focus found his eyes shining with slyness, and dropped your gaze to the crook of his neck, where you spied something dastardly. “How does this keep happening? Do you not look in a mirror?”

As you nagged him, you reached for his coveralls. Somehow, the collar kept managing to tuck itself on the inside, and you were at its beck and call, slipping two fingers underneath to unfurl it, coaxing it out in a long stroke over the peak of his collarbone, and down the slope of his chest, over his heart. Longer than two beats worth. The fabric was quite rolled up today. You had to slide along his lucky shirt to find the pointed end, and pull it out, laying it flat. Smoothing down the edges, and securing his tan work jacket over it. Patting them both to seal the kind gesture.

From his periphery, he watched you tend to him, and his smirk grew.

Fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“Guess I don’t look at myself too often,” he said, eyeing your hands lingering on his person–flattening your palms over his pec for a prolonged moment before retreating–and he nodded for you to follow him out of the room to your desk. He needed the extra seconds away from you to rid himself of his smugness.

Talking about the costume, he rounded to the taller side of your desk, while you sat opposite him in your chair, “Luckily it was big on her last year, so it still fits. It’s just a little short in the legs.”

“Gotcha.” You shook out the bat wings and rubbed the fuzzy material of the suit between your fingers. “Does she have room for another layer underneath? Warm pajamas, or something? The temperature’s supposed to drop tonight. I think a cold front is coming in.”

“Yeah, there’s room.”

“Okie dokie.” You cracked your knuckles and looked at him expectantly. He raised his eyebrows. You raised yours higher. You made a more obvious face. He made a confused one back at you. “Dude, leave. I can’t work with you watching me.”

He curled his lip in a mocking sneer, and went to work in the garage, where–ironically–you could watch him.

~~~

Turns out, you were serious about the double standards of your relationship.

Eddie caught you sneaking glances in his direction whenever he’d wheel out from underneath a car, or when he was bent over the engine of a truck, but as soon as he took his sweet time locating his favorite socket wrench from the tool cabinet (that most definitely wasn’t already in his back pocket), you blocked your project with your body and moved your lips like you were telling him off.

And when he knocked on the glass to gesture for more clean rags from the supply closet, you scrambled to hide the felt shapes you were cutting out, and sent a tube of glitter paint rolling across the lobby.

Even as he relaxed into the plush seat of his car after a long day of work, and the rumble of the engine soothed his mind from exterior worries, his eyes traveled from the bright red stop light swaying in the wind, to the custom crimson interior of his Dodge Omni Shelby, to the pile of black fabric next to him.

He drove with one hand on the wheel. He could just.. take a peek at what the hell you were doing all day.

“Don’t even think about peeking! It’s a surprise. I want Adrie to see it first, and then you can look when she’s trying it on.”

He snatched his wandering fingers away from the bat wing and cupped them around his inner thigh–his usual place for resting them.

~~~

When he opened the door to his trailer, the little lady of the hour came running at him full-speed.

“There’s my facehugger!” Eddie announced through his laugh, stepping backwards to soften the blow of her enthusiasm. And yeah, maybe he shouldn’t refer to his daughter as a parasitic alien from a horror franchise, but the clinginess comparison was accurate.

Adrienne made her immediate attempt to climb him known–clutching onto the hem of his work jacket, and shaking it. “Daddy!” she demanded, making grabby hands at him.

“Hold on, hold on.” He knelt to her level, and promised to pick her up in a few minutes if she exhibited an ounce of patience. “You remember that nice lady from work you drew pictures with?” Thinking about it, she twisted back and forth with excess energy, and gave a big nod, pressing her fingers along her smile. “Well, she heard your costume wasn’t up to your standards, so she wanted to make your Halloween extra special this year. She worked on this all day..” he said slowly, drawing out the grand reveal.

True to his word, Eddie unfolded the outfit he had clutched under his arm, and held it out in front of him, showing it to her first and watching her reaction.

Uncle Wayne opened the bathroom door in the midst of tidying up his beard, dragging a towel around his neck to wipe away the excess shaving cream. Interested in the commotion, and especially curious as to why the person he referred to as his own granddaughter was currently running around the coffee table screaming at the top of her lungs, he questioned anyone who could hear him, “What’s all this goin’ on?”

“The lady at work made my bat costume pretty–Look!” Adrie tugged on the bottom of Wayne’s flannel.

“I see,” he said, vaguely recalling the young receptionist she was referring to. He raised his eyebrows at Eddie. “She did all that?”

He shrugged. “She’s nice.”

Too excited, Adrie unzipped the back of the jumpsuit and climbed in while Eddie held it open. Still, he did not peep at the finished product. Not until every foot wiggled out of the appropriate amount of leg holes, and every sleeve found a hand.

Adrienne walked backwards into the living room and struck a pose with her arms out, flapping them.

Wayne ‘aww’d and clapped.

Eddie sat back on his calves, mouth slightly agape.

You really were nice.

The costume was magnificent. The black fleece was painted with thin strokes of white paint to give the illusion of hair, with special attention around the turtleneck collar where you glued white faux fur into a short mane. Cleverly, the pants were extended with layers of iridescent tulle that caught the light in shimmery rainbows, disguising how short they were on her.

The wings themselves were works of art. Showstoppers. Instead of hanging limp from under her arms, you had used flexible plastic to create bones, giving them some structure.

They were exactly what Adrie wanted. Silver glitter served as a mere backdrop to the myriad of foil stars glued to the fabric. As one’s attention panned downwards, they grew in size and frequency, until there was a disco ball amount of flash and pizzazz. To top it all off, there were felt clouds and crescent moons dangling on strings from the bottom. The stuffed and stitched celestial motifs swung with Adrie’s grand gestures.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Wayne picked up two little black triangles that bounced onto the carpet when Eddie revealed the costume. “C’mere, Adrie,” he said, holding them up to her head. “You’ve got two little ears on barrettes, too.”

“Jesus,” Eddie exhaled.

His next breath caught in his throat. He discovered why you snipped the fabric where it was previously attached to the suit, and gave it an extra bone structure to wrap around.

It was so he could slip his arms around his daughter, and hug her tight without any impediments. “You like it, yeah?”

She threw her arms around his neck, and imbued all her surprise into her little voice, “Are you kidding me? It’s my favorite–the best costume ever! I love it.”

“We’ll have to find a way to thank her when I see her on Monday.”

The hug lasted until Eddie’s knees ached. Still, he clung to her as one clung to a lifesaver. He passed his palm over her hair. He stroked his thumb on the back of her head. He pressed her into the darkness against his throat. He squeezed her to conceal the way he shook. If anyone were to notice the secret of his actions, it would be the person who raised him as one would raise their own son.

Wayne walked over and ruffled his nephew’s hair.

~~~

Later, after Adrie had gone to bed, Eddie confessed, “That took me so off guard, I almost cried. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me, or Adrie, in years.. I mean, outside of everything you do for us. And Steve, too. I just didn’t expect her to put that much effort into a costume.. Or to care that much.”

“I know, son,” Wayne said, patting him on the knee as they sat on the couch, lit by the muted earthy tones of the local news channel. “She seems real nice.”

————

It was a howling Halloween night.

Eddie pulled off the main road into the nice neighborhood on the west side of Hawkins. Everyone knew you went to the rich houses on Halloween, as evident by the agonizing minutes it took to find a place to park, while Adrie was oblivious and just wanted out of her car seat.

Crowds swarmed the doors handing out the best candy. Groups of friends gathered in the streets. Kids ran down the sidewalk to ogle the elaborate decorations. “Is the entire population here, or somethin’?” Eddie grumbled, shifting the gear stick into park.

Once Adrie was out, he asked her, “Do you wanna stop by a few houses on the way to Steve’s?” She eyed the rowdy bigger kids pushing each other on their way up the driveway next to her, and she held out her hand for Eddie to take as a silent answer.

When she was with her friends, she was outgoing, but in this unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers in the dark, she needed her dad to guide her.

“You’ll feel better once we have some candy in your bucket,” he promised, swinging the orange jack-o-lantern pail back and forth.

In reality, Eddie dreaded this part. Hated it. Going up to houses, knocking on doors, glancing away the second they were answered. He dressed differently. Tried to blend into the back of a big group. Kept his gaze on his daughter shying behind his legs, speaking for her, and hoping her cuteness distracted the adults from taking too close of a look at him. Shuffling away before they could recognize him, remember his last name, and make that same face they always did:

Barely concealed disgust.

Eddie held her hand for several streets until she felt comfortable going up to doors without him, thanks to finding a friend or two from preschool. Those parents were easier. Some he’d gotten to know over the last two years due to birthday parties and school events. Yet, they returned his greeting out of politeness. Waited on the sidewalk like him, but at a distance; in a circle, not inviting him to their grown-up talk.

That’s okay. He felt less alone when Adrie came jogging back to show him her candy. And although she insisted she was a big girl and didn’t need to hold his hand anymore, she walked as if she were glued to his side, three steps to his one stride.

“I don’t need you, Daddy.”

“Yeah, you do.”

On and on, they made their way up the streets, and came upon a white-picket fence dwelling sat modestly between two larger statements, right as the porch light turned off and a group of people left the home.

Fate was a funny thing.

Steve held the gate open for Nancy and whispered something in her ear as she passed, earning a withered glare before she turned and the moon caught the smile flitting across her lips. Behind her, dashing from the shadows, was their son. He held his plastic sword high above his head, and gave a brave battle cry against the person who emerged next.

Robin, also dressed as a pirate, jumped from the top of the stairs and clashed her sword with his. They tussled on their way to the fence, stopping when she feigned a dramatic death, and had to chase down her tricorn hat from rolling into the street.

Eddie’s hand was sweating–Adrie said so with a yuckiness to her words as she ran to join Steve’s son and their group of trick-or-treaters, leaving him behind to stare. And stare. And stare. And try not to burst into a grin.

He wouldn’t have to wait ‘til Monday to thank you.

Step by step, you helped their daughter teeter down the stairs. Patiently holding her hand, encouraging her to the bottom, and brought her to Steve, who was getting out the stroller from the trunk of his car.

“No! I’m–I.. Will walk,” their little girl finished in a disjointed manner, engrossed by the array of bedsheet ghosts, lispy vampires, and corn-syrup-blood-covered werewolves moving around her.

“Yeah, okay, kid,” Steve said sarcastically. “You wanna be a big girl and walk on your own, but we both know after two houses you’re gonna be begging for the stroller.”

Like most girls, she brushed him off, and turned to you for assistance with her jacket. The puffy orange snow suit hindered her movements; her walk was a waddle, and her arms stuck out from her sides helplessly. She was warm, though.

You, on the other hand, were dressed in what Eddie could only call an adult onesie. A fitted one; hugging you in places he shouldn’t notice it hugging you while you were squatting down to zip up her jacket, but a onesie, nonetheless.

“There we go.” He heard you say from where he stood, roughly a car-length away, lurking in the darkness like a creep.

But he’d have to find a way to repent later. His fate tapped you on the shoulder, and his heart set the tempo for his plucky courage’s passion.

“Adrie!” you squealed at her. She greeted you with equal fervor. “Your costume is so, so pretty!” Without a second thought, you bent over, put your hands on your thighs, and asked while waggling your eyebrows, “Wanna fly?”

“Yeah!”

Adrie unveiled her full glittery wingspan, and you clasped her under her arms, instructing her to jump. Up she went. You raised her above you to your full extent and spun in circles. Giggly, messy circles. Showing her off for everyone to see. Parading her for the slew of compliments coming from onlookers. And when your strength tired, you brought her to your hip, and held her tight, still spinning. Dizzy, silly twirls. Savoring the closeness of your foreheads almost touching.

You slowed to stop to scan the scene around you, searching the shapeless night. “Where’s your dad, hmm?”

She pointed behind you.

Over your shoulder, your gazes connected in between a family dressed as Peanuts characters.

Eddie raised his hand, but forgot to move it back and forth.

Your face brightened. The love you showed Adrie reflected in your eyes when you found him. Smiling bigger, somehow, at his stupid wave when he remembered how to perform one.

“Nice costume,” you teased, sauntering up to him with a swagger. “Light-wash blue jeans instead of black. How different.”

“Yeah, and what are you? A cat? So creative.” He meant it as an insult to your gray onesie with a tan belly, but he was the one who followed your quick glance at his stupid hand still waving like an utter moron, and he stuffed his fists in his pockets, wondering if he’d ever recover his dignity after this encounter.

“Uh, I’m clearly a mouse,” you drawled, inclining your head to show off your rounded mouse ears on your headband.

Adrie copied your exact tone and inflection to serve as a gut punch, “Yeah, Daddy, she’s clearly a mouse.”

His greatest fear mocked him. With Adrie on your hip, and your two matching smirks taunting him with your cheeks pressed to one another, he shook his head, and pinched his eyebrows up in worried exasperation. “I don’t need two of you.” A revelation he should take more seriously as you looked at Adrie, and you both giggled. Tips of your noses grazing. Hugging you around your neck. Touching your animal ears and calling you ‘Miss Mouse.’ Thanking you for her costume, and you asked, seeking her genuine approval as you fitted one of her tiny hands in yours to stretch a wing out.

“You like it?”

“I love it!”

You swayed with her in the new position, resembling two people slow dancing despite there being no background music other than shrieks of laughter, and a chorus of “trick-or-treat!”

Yeah, this feeling in his chest was evolving past the boundaries.

Shit.

Eventually you had to support her with two arms again, thus ending your waltz, and you remembered Eddie was there, and Eddie remembered to direct his tender expression at his daughter.

“So, really,” you said, nudging his white tennis shoes and giving him a once-over, “Who’re you supposed to be? A grumpy guy who couldn’t be bothered? A wet blanket?” You leaned in. “Don’t tell me you’re dressed as a stick in the mud for the second week in a row. That’s just gauche, Eddie.”

Adrie latched onto one word specifically. She pointed at him with all her might, and declared, “Grumpy! You’re Grumpy.”

“Great,” he groaned. Yet, there was not a trace of annoyance tugging at his lips–just his tongue poking through as his daughter reduced him to an unpleasant character. “Tell her what movie you watched this morning.”

“I watched Snow White with grandpa,” she said. You gave an understanding ‘ahh.’ “Grandpa is Sneezy. Daddy is Grumpy. You can be..”

“I’ll be Dopey.”

Eddie snorted, “Fitting.” You cut him a soft frown, and he shifted his focus back to his daughter. Eye contact with you was too difficult. He felt exposed. Vulnerable. A single longing look gave away too much, he had to put an end to them. “You think I’m Grumpy, huh?”

She jabbed her finger at him again. “You! Most definitely are.”

The immediate flash of devilry in his eyes was her only warning. “What’d I tell you about pointing at people?” He snatched her wrist in a weak grasp, and lunged at her, snapping his teeth, pretending to bite her finger off with a smile. She scream-laughed and buried her face in your shoulder.

“Aw, it’s okay, Adrie,” you consoled her, “I always knew he was a biter. Lemme count your fingers, ‘nd make sure you have all six.”

“Six?” she cried.

Besotted by your willingness to indulge his humor, Eddie lost track of his inhibitions, and acted on a deep-rooted impulse from his youth, when he was more expressive of his urges. He crept in close while you were busy doting over Adrie, and lowered his face to where he was allowed to whisper in a deeper register, “Hey, no picking on my kid. That’s my job.” To make matters worse, he reached for your side, aimed for your ribs through the single layer of fleece, and prodded. It was a success. You yelped. You were ticklish. Another trait to add to the list of things he shouldn’t know about you.

Steve’s bafflement pierced the rambunctious Jedi fight happening in the middle of the road, “Are you three gonna catch up, or do I need to make you get in the wagon?” he threatened. Sure enough, he was hauling a red wagon of someone else’s kids behind him dressed as various dinosaurs, complete with masks.

More parents had joined the trick-or-treat cavalry, milling about on the sidewalk, waiting for Adrie before they knocked on the next house. You recognized this quicker than Eddie, and offered to take her by, well, simply walking off with her in your arms.

For the first block he was alone with his thoughts. Watching you go from house to house holding his daughter’s hand. Sitting back while you took over for him, and lessened his burdens. When it was you crouched next to Adrie, smiling up at the adults with buckets of candy, they didn’t see Munson. They saw a cute little girl and her supposed mom participating in innocent fun.

“Hey, bud,” Steve said, swinging around to his side, tossing an arm around his shoulders, and shaking him. Eddie could sense the subject he was about to bring up from his consoling squeeze alone. “So, how goes the whole ‘not falling in love’ thing?”

Eddie had his correction at the ready, “I said ‘attached,’ not ‘fall in love.’”

Steve gave him a long, hard stare.

“And I said it was Adrie I was worried about getting attached.”

Steve deepened his stare.

Eddie looked away, then back, then away again. He was quiet for a few strained moments, shuffling his feet while the kids thanked a woman dressed as a witch for her cauldron of candy, and his passing gaze lingered on the Mouse holding his daughter’s hand.

You glanced in his direction, where he stayed on the outskirts of the group, and suppressed a giggle. You were listening to Adrie and her friend’s story about mermaids with full interest, asking questions, and gasping at the information they were disclosing, acting as if they knew the world’s secrets and deemed you worthy of its knowledge.

It was sweet. Endearing, adorable, attractive in the worst ways, and exactly the sort of fun Adrie craved that he couldn’t provide when he was overworked, tired, and stressed to the point of crying frustrated tears.

Except, of course, those bad days had become less and less since you started working at the auto shop..

Eddie surrendered. “How does it look like it’s going?”

“Like you're happier when she’s around,” Steve replied.

“Real good that’s doin’ me.”

They had reached the end of the street, and waited to cross at the stop sign.

Steve shrugged, and said, “I think it’s cute you finally found someone to have a crush on–Ow!” He clutched his side where Eddie elbowed him.

He hissed, “Not so loud,” even though you were several feet away, and talking animatedly with Robin.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s precious.” Lifting his chin, Steve alluded to the way you picked up Adrie and herded the other children across the road like sheep. “Y’know, you were right about her saying ‘yes’ to everything. Her and Robin have some wild stories. Did you know someone came up to them at one of those sleazy hole-in-the-wall bars and asked them to perform on stage–like, obviously meaning you know, stripping–but she accepted his offer, and that’s how they started doing stand up together? Yeah, they just went up there and started shouting jokes at all the drunks. Dodging beer being thrown at them, and whatever. Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, real fun,” Eddie muttered with a horrified expression, wondering how you managed to survive this long with your absurd policy.

“Anyway,” Steve surmised. “I think you should go for it.”

The mood shifted instantly. Eddie’s face went lax, aside from his flared nostrils. He spoke firmly, “I can’t do that, man.”

“Why not?” When Eddie refused to elaborate with a scornful shake of his head, and sudden tenseness to his jaw, Steve softened his nature. He tightened his hold on him in a make-shift hug, and requested, “Talk it out with me. Tell me what you’re going through, and what you want out of this, because you sure do flirt a lot for someone who keeps denying themselves a real relationship.”

“I don’t know what the fuck I want anymore,” he exhaled in mind, body, and spirit. Just a complete depletion of all his anxieties under the weight of Steve’s arm.

Eddie ran his tongue along the back of his bottom teeth while he observed you crouch in someone’s driveway to make a case for Halloween themed pencils, and how they may not be exciting as candy, but there were bats on them, and Adrienne liked bats, therefore, the pencils were cool.

The anxieties were replaced with the blooming realization of how deep his crush went, and the stab of reality pierced the good feelings.

“There’s a million reasons why it’s a bad idea,” Eddie sighed, and gathered his thoughts to list them out as succinctly as possible. “Uh, let’s see. First of all, we’re coworkers, and this week has already been a real glimpse into how this would all pan out if I took the risk and things didn’t work out.”

Steve rocked his head to the side. “Fair, but it’s pretty obvious she likes you too, with how she flirts back.”

“Perfect segue. Okay, so maybe she does like me. But does she like me? And does she like Adrie? Can’t have one without the other. And, man, she made it clear at the movies that she doesn’t even ask if her dates have kids, because there’s never been a second one–a second date, I mean. She’s that casual about it.”

“Why not try something casual, then?”

“When have I ever approached anything casually in my life?”

“You raise a good point there,” Steve answered, shivering at the sudden uptick in frigid gusts biting through his thick jacket.

You and Robin pulled off to the side so your gaggle of kids could take turns stomping on crunchy brown leaves before they blew away.

Ensuring they were at a good distance to watch, but not be overheard, Steve kept his voice low, “What else?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Gee, I dunno, how about the fact she hates this place, and is going to leave eventually? Hate to break it to you, but even if she likes me like that, and even if things worked out for a while, I’m not ready to explain to Adrie why the nice lady she loves so much doesn’t come around anymore.”

“So make her stay around.”

“What?”

Shrugging with that stupid grin of his, Steve explained, nonchalant and lackadaisical, “You said she says ‘yes’ to everything. So just ask her to stay.”

Leaning into it, Eddie pulled an overjoyed face, and threw his arms up, gesticulating overdramatically. “Okay! Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just ask her to marry me, then she’ll be forced to stay in this hellhole with me forever. What a grand idea!”

Steve’s full-bodied laugh sent them both doubling over. “Okay, stud, going straight for marriage. It was just a suggestion that maybe she’s over the crazy party-til-dawn city life, and is looking for.. whatever it is you’ve got.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm. Easing out of his glare, he broke himself out of considering Steve’s validation as anything more than an audible feedback loop of the things he wanted to hear, and not the facts he needed to hear. “Doesn’t matter. She could like me, she could not. She could want kids, she could not. She could stay, she could not. I still have to see her every day, regardless. There’s not a lot of other options out there for me, and even if she didn’t want the city life anymore, I don’t think she’s gunning for the single dad whose biggest aspiration is getting a trailer of his own, so his uncle can have his room back.”

Cynicism, cynicism, cynicism. Denial.

Steve’s mouth twisted, and he became serious. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“It’s true, though.”

Ahead, a guy caught Steve’s attention and signaled that it was his turn again on wagon duty, which was the perfect excuse to make his exit because you were standing on your tip-toes, seeking out Eddie in the sea of Stormtroopers. You spotted him and waved with childlike glee, making your way over.

Steve’s hair fell into his eyes as he drew Eddie in. “One last piece of advice,” he began, gaze set on the side of his friend’s face, accepting not even he could win over his attention when it came to existing in the same universe as you. “If you’re serious about not pursuing her, maybe stop looking like you’re gonna blow your load every time she smiles at you.”

Eddie sputtered, “Jesus Christ, dude.”

With that last remark to recover from, Eddie was forced to rearrange his pale face into anything remotely appropriate while Steve got to stroll away as if nothing happened.

“Uh, hey,” he said, eyes scared wide, and showing too many teeth in his tight smile under your scrutiny.

You brought your hand up, and stepped into him until your chests were nearly together. Cocking your head, you pointed at something over yonder, and slowly, unwillingly, he stopped analyzing the nuances of your face to look at the group of kids at the house across the street. One kid in particular. Dressed in black, and with six additional arms dangling from his two human ones.

You couldn’t keep the sheer triumph out of your voice, “That spider is certainly bigger than your palm.”

He winced as if your joke physically pained him. He curled in on himself, and depleted himself of oxygen to groan a long, contemptuous, “So lame,” stressing both words to exaggerate his misery. Shaking his head as if his grievance was anything other than a ploy to discover what it felt like to reject reality, and satiate the envy he felt when Adrie got to be this close to you. Foreheads almost together. Noses almost grazing.

As if your hand trapped between your bodies was anything other than a ploy to rest the backs of your fingers on his chest as you laughed. As you leaned into him. As you tugged on his sweatshirt underneath his leather jacket, begging him to give in until, at last, he broke.

Eddie laughed with you, recklessly.

“Did you really abandon my kid to run over here and tell me that?”

“She’s safe with Bobbie,” you promised in a whisper. “And yes, I did.”

Leaf-shaped shadows danced across you both, cast from the orange glow of the streetlamp above. Autumnal bare branches, electric wires, swaying in the wind, revealing your faces in quick pieces; a wrinkled forehead here, contours of a nose there. Flashes of a puzzle you both collected and assembled in the scarce seconds before it was time to move on to the next house.

You crossed your arms tight over yourself and walked beside him, smiling at the ground.

“How’ve you enjoyed your Halloween experience?” he asked, swinging his arms wide to gesture at Hawkins in general. “I’m sure it’s a lot different than what you’re used to.”

“Oh, I love it!” you said in earnest, surrounded by all the things you’d only seen on screen before. “It’s just like the movies. Trick-or-treating, little kids running around in costumes, the weather, the decorations. It’s surreal. Usually I’d be drunk in a nightclub by now.”

Furrowing his brow, he looked upwards as if he were reading a nonexistent clock, and asked with a twinge of parental disapproval, “Isn’t it, like, 8PM?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, unperturbed. Too impassive to put him at ease. Like you were lording a secret over him. “Don’t act like you weren’t the same before you had Adrie.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Harrington’s been telling me stories about you,” you informed him, and rolled your bottom lip inward, biting it as he zeroed in on your cheeky grin getting a rise out of him.

He squinted at you. “Calling him Harrington, huh? Well, aren’t you two chummy.” Mentally rolling a Nat 20 for Stealth, he lifted his hand to your side without you noticing. “What’d he tell you?”

You made an ‘X’ over your mouth with your fingers.

The perfect position to leave yourself open for attack. I mean, the opportunity presented itself so splendidly, how could he not? How could he resist the greatest temptation?

His impending threat continued to go undetected. Giving you one last chance, he dipped his face to yours–relishing how the apples of your cheeks intruded on your eyes when you smiled this hard, forcing them to scrunch closed–and he asked, “What did he tell you?”

“I’m not repeating!” you giggled.

Oh, you were giggling all right. And in the next gasp, you were squealing, jerking away from him.

Eddie was merciless. His large hands proved too difficult to escape. He poked, prodded. Tickled you until his every, “Tell me, tell me, tell me,” was met with your, “Stop, stop, stop, please!” You fought him fruitlessly, grappling at his forearms, and failing to do little more than slip against his sleeves. He cackled at you. Mocked you with the tip of his tongue to his teeth each time you thought you got away, only to be caught again. You resisted. Resisted. Persevered in the face of evil–knocking your forehead into his chin on accident. Eddie thought you would’ve caved by now, but it was him who stopped; and not because of the unwanted attention your antics drew.

You pried him away from your ribs.

“You’re freezing!” Eddie’s mood changed on a dime at feeling your frigid fingers on top of his. He shifted so that he was enveloping your hands, encasing you in his warmth in exchange for the cold seeping to his bones.

“Yeah,” you answered sheepishly.

“You made a fuss about reminding me to put Adrie in extra layers, but you’re not wearing a jacket?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, distorting your grin. “Yeah.”

“You’re irresponsible, you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“A real bad example.”

“Yeah.”

“An absolute pain in my ass.” Eddie grinned with you. Eyelids falling half-closed. Searing your skin with his heat. Enacting the subtle art of asking questions for the sake of prolonging the moment. Not like it was obvious, given you readily accepted his fingers curled around yours with a coy glint to your gaze. Totally discreet as he let go to shrug off his jacket and hand it over.

Obliging him, you raised your eyebrows. “What a gentleman.” You slid your arms into the sleeves, snuggled into his blanketing warmth, and tugged the collar over your mouth, rendering yourself to a pair of pretty eyes.

He was a goner.

“Tell me what Harrington said.”

“Okay,” you indulged him, breath coming out as a fog. “He said..” You were back to giggling behind the collar, remembering the story. “He said one time at a party there was this big watermelon keg he spent all day working on.” Eddie pressed his lips into a line, knowing where this was going. “He scooped out the innards. Spent painstaking hours cutting up fruit to put inside it and soak up all the rum. And then you wandered in. Already hammered, and you, you–” You snickered and peeled back the collar. “You knocked it over within ten seconds of walking in the kitchen, smashing it everywhere like a crime scene.” You hid behind the collar again, then opened it, voice gone high-pitched with suppressed laughter. “And he said you panicked, and tried to scoop it up in your hands and put it in people’s cups!” More laughter. “And when they said ‘no’ because it was fucking gross floor juice, you tried eating all the fruit yourself.” One more hide and seek of the collar as you lost it in a final squeak, “And you cried!”

He waited until you calmed down to show how thrilled he was in a deadpan tone, “Great, great. I’m so glad he told you that one.”

“It certainly conjures an image.”

Thinking the conversation was over, you took a step in the direction of your trick-or-treat group, but something caught your eye. You tilted your head. He mirrored you, tilting it the same way. You shuffled to the side. He turned with you, more, more towards the streetlamp. Curious as to what you were doing, and why you were staring at his chest, mouthing something.

“What’s Corroded Coffin?”

“Uh–It’s–It’s nothing,” Eddie said a bit too loud, wiping at his sweatshirt like the self-printed logo was a crumb he could discard himself of.

Fortunately, a wild Adrienne appeared, interrupting him from making a bigger fool of himself. “My hands are cold. Can I have my gloves?”

Eddie glided his hands over his stomach out of habit, and realized his pockets weren’t there. Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of his jacket, and yanked you to him, spinning you, manhandling you. Forcing you to catch yourself on his braced muscles–shoulder to his chest, hip to a place he’d rather not dwell on. Not gentlemanly at all.

You released a string of flustered remarks, and pushed away from him, making it appear to be a benign accident in front of his daughter.

“Here,” he said to Adrie, holding the black mittens above her head, out of her reach.

She jumped, and jumped, and stomped. “Daddy,” she whined.

Dusting yourself off from the previous encounter, you agreed, “You’re so cruel, bullying your own child.”

“She knows the magic words,” he led on.

“Please!” She jumped higher, huffing and puffing.

“And?”

“And thank you!”

He relented. His evil reign came to an end. First, the tickling, now, the height advantage over a little girl. He gave Adrie the mittens and she stuck her tongue out at him before bolting off faster than lightning.

It was you turn to poke a stern finger into his ribs. “Awful, awful man,” you scolded him. Unlucky for you, he wasn’t ticklish there, nor was he ashamed of any of his actions these past few minutes. He might come to regret them when you move back to New York and these were the memories he was left with, but he wasn’t ashamed.

No, not ashamed to overstep the boundaries he resurrected in pursuit of happiness. If only a little. Enough to feel the thrill of danger, but remain safe inside his walls.

Casual.

You liked casual.

Fuck what he said earlier. He could keep it casual. He could handle innocent flirting without it getting out of hand.

“We should probably catch up with everyone before they send Scooby and the gang to search for us,” you said, walking backwards, throwing your thumb over your shoulder.

He snorted. “Terrible joke. Are you sure you were a comedian?”

You answered him with two middle fingers, which you promptly put away. Adrie came running back after just one house, hunched over, dragging her feet; hair a loose mess, barrettes dangling. Displaying all the theatrics of her father.

She made grabby hands at you. Not him. And before he could voice his hurt, you scooped her into your arms, and she rested her chin on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he complained weakly, walking up to you from behind so he could take the treat bucket before it spilled, and talk to Adrie directly. “You told me you were a big girl who could walk on her own, and didn’t need to be held.” Her refute was a babbling grumble laced with fatigue.

Speaking to you, he said, “You don’t have to carry her.”

“I don’t mind. I think they only want to do a few more houses before we head back. Do you wanna join?”

At first, Eddie was quiet, and you spun in a slow circle to see him, catching the end of his wistful expression at the rich neighborhood and its opulent houses owned by affluent people who heard a rumor or two about Munson, and decided he wasn’t worth more than their wary glances when his kid played with theirs.

“Nah, I’m good over here.” He ran his hand over the back of Adrie’s head, and relaxed his stance, staying put.

“Let me help ya out there, Cool Guy,” you said, motioning for him to bend to you. You picked a narrow, apple-red leaf out of his tangled hair, and flicked it away.

“How long has that been there?”

Shrugging your mouth to disguise your beaming grin, you feigned ignorance while walking away. “Who’s to say?”

To further exacerbate his embarrassment into genuine distress, after two Mummies answered the door, and you were coming down the sidewalk, he saw you pull off the side for Steve to pass with the stroller, and you laid your cheek on the top of Adrie’s head. You whispered something in her ear. Something most intriguing, on account of her coming to life, no longer sleepy. The exchange was short; her asking a question, and you answering. But as you nodded with heavy-lidded eyes, and she pressed her fingers to her smile, you both turned, looked at him, and giggled.

Eddie gulped.

He didn’t like this new feeling of you two sharing secrets about him. Especially ones he couldn’t threaten out of you, no matter how many times he put his hands on your ribs.

~~~

As the evening came to a close, Eddie carried Adrie on his hip while you lugged her bucket of sweets. The plastic handle bowed from the weight of the candy, and your fingertips went numb from the burden. And maybe for your troubles, you took a piece. Or two.

The group petered out until it was left to the core of you returning to Steve’s house. The goodbyes were truncated due to the three sleepy kids in tow. You handed off the bucket to Eddie, first asking if he was sure he didn’t need help getting to his car, and when he assured you he was fine, you squeezed Adrie’s ankle and whispered a goodbye she didn’t hear, too lost in Dreamland and drooling on her dad’s shoulder to know the night was over.

He said he’d see you Monday and parted ways, walking in the opposite direction, and you waited at the white-picket fence gate for Robin to stop swapping sneaky peeks at Steve and Nancy to join you.

“Bobbie, I know you don’t want me driving.”

She made eyes at Nancy one last time, and descended the porch stairs at a leisurely pace. “Yeah, we can leave.”

~~~

The drive home was a welcomed respite after the constant overstimulation. The radio was set to low, the heater caressed warmth along your wind-burnt cheeks, the headlights spotlighted deer grazing on the sides of the lonely road. Robin kept lofting soft smiles in your direction, which you returned.

Parking at her parent’s house, you closed the car door behind you, hearing it echo off the forest. The rocky driveway crunched under your shoes on your way to the door. The porch light was on, elongating your shadows across the ground, following you step by step.

“So, you and Eddie, huh?” Robin asked, turning the key in the lock.

You snapped to attention, schooling your features from giving you away. “Just friends,” you reiterated at her suggestive tone. “Just friends and coworkers. He’s dropped more than enough hints that he’s not looking for more.” You finished in more of a sigh, “Not with me, anyway.”

“Is that so?”

Her lopsided smirk struck undesired hope in your heart.

Robin pushed open the door, and curled in her forefinger to tap her knuckle on her upper lip. She dropped her gaze to your general upper body, and hummed, “You, uh.. forget something?”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh–”

————

Eddie dropped his shoulders back expecting to feel something slide down his arms. Then, he patted his chest, and realized. “–Shit.” He stared at his coat hook next to the front door where his leather jacket usually hung, and reprimanded himself in a soft laugh. “Guess I’ll have to get it back on Monday.”

“How much candy can I have?” Adrienne asked, dumping out her bucket on the coffee table, and scrambling to pick up the Tootsie Rolls that fell on the floor. She began sorting into piles of most favorite to least favorite.

“One,” Eddie stated sternly.

He turned on the TV and sat on the couch, decompressing while Adrie cackled over her hoard like Smaug. He should’ve known something was up when she wouldn’t stop giggling to herself.

His suspicions were answered when she turned around to show him the one piece she picked out–perfectly following his rules.

“Uh, absolutely not!” Eddie swiped it from her. “Seriously, who gives out full size Snickers bars on Halloween?”

“But, Daddy, you said!”

Leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs, he demanded her attention before the pitiful crocodile tears started. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said, and reached past her for a mini Musketeers to compare. “You can have the Snickers, but you have to share half with me. See, half is still bigger than one of these little ones, so you’ll still be coming out of this a winner. ‘Kay?” She nodded and went to grab it. “But! I don’t want any tantrums when I tell you it’s bath time.” Again, she agreed and he reeled the candybar back into himself, away from her quick fingers. “And! You have to brush your teeth after.”

“I will,” she promised with a deep frown.

“And you still have to go to bed at the normal time.”

Pushing her hair out of her face, she dropped her head in another big nod.

Eddie was satisfied and went to give it to her. But another thought crossed his mind–one of true luxury–and the allure of the idea proved too good to ignore.

Much to her dismay, he snatched the candybar away before she could get a good grasp on it, and he deepened his voice to show he was serious, “And I want to shower. Ten minutes. Uninterrupted.”

She groaned at the ceiling at his never ending list of rules. “Fine!”

~~~

Riding his tingly feel-good high, Eddie opened the bathroom door to let the steam out, and toweled off the fog on the medicine cabinet mirror. He took out his comb and scissors, and sectioned out his bangs.

Brunette snips of wet hair fell in triangles onto his white tank top and around the sink. It wasn’t a noticeable trim, just enough to get them off his eyebrows when dried.

With some amount of clarity, he looked his reflection in the eye as he evened out the cut, and didn’t know if he should be wearing the faint smile he did, or if he should listen to his better judgment, and stop making modifications to his barriers.

He knew you deserved a better life than what Hawkins could offer, but he could enjoy the innocent workplace flirtations, right? They were harmless. Little compliments here and there to boost his confidence. That’s all it was. It’s not like you actually found him attractive, right? You’d been on enough dates to know what to say to a guy. That’s all.

Though, he did need to remember to have a talk with Adrie about setting her expectations and understanding Daddy could have friends without it leading anywhere, and that was okay.

“–some.”

Jumping, Eddie said a prayer that was not righteous, and thanked the stars he was not trimming closer to his eyes when his daughter scared him. “Jesus Christ, kid,” he exhaled.

“Handsome,” she said again.

Taken aback, he let the flattery sink in. Besides last week at the movies, he didn’t get compliments often, or at all, and to receive one now while his thoughts circled back to that familiar sting of ugliness with the way other parents looked at him tonight, Adrie’s kindness matured his grin into a real smile.

“You think I’m handsome?” he asked in a mild, quick laugh. “That’s sweet.” He leaned over the sink and worked on his bangs again, snipping up into the strands between his fingers.

“Miss–ouse does.”

“What–?” Her words were incoherent from her fingers stuffed in her mouth. “Did you say..?” He dropped the comb and scissors, and spun around, eyes set on her. Adrie released a high-pitched shriek and ran from the doorway. “Wait! Adrie! She said that? She said that about me?” He chased her into the living room, dodging back and forth around the coffee table. Duping left, right. Catching her as she made a quick escape to her bedroom. “Tell me what you said? Did Miss Mouse say that about me? Did she call me handsome?”

Try as he might, threatening to tickle her until she repeated herself, Adrienne refused to tell him the secret you whispered in her ear.

[munson-enthusiast]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶Surely, when two friends set up their two friends on a blind date in the very small town of Hawkins, they make sure those two people don't know each other beforehand, right? And, more importantly, aren't coworkers, right?✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, angst towards the end, drug/alcohol mention/use, 18+ overall for eventual smut

chapter: 3/20 [wc: 6.1k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 3: The Accidental First Date

“Is this too much?” you asked, yanking down the visor and checking yourself in the small mirror.

Sitting in the back parking lot of the movie theater, you went through your purse for the finishing touches on your look. Doing your last paranoia check for anything in your teeth, turning your head this way and that to zhuzh your hair, and most importantly, preening your oxymoron of a sweater to show a decent amount of cleavage without flashing the cups of your push-up bra.

Truly a walking contradiction of a top. Cable knit and warm, but with a plunging neckline, to where the top button started at your sternum.

“No, you look hot,” Robin assured with her goofy smile. “New York modest is Hawkins slutty. He’s gonna love you.”

You shrank into your girlish giggle. “Good, I want my dating debut in this little town to be a statement. Set the stage for future escapades.. Until I run out of men, I guess. Seriously, how many bachelors live here and aren’t total hicks? Four?” Robin laughed.

“Could be worse. You could be a lesbian.”

“True,” you concurred. “Good thing you have Vickie. Sucks she couldn’t come tonight.” Robin made a sad huff of agreement, working a mascara wand through her lashes. “Hey, I know I said ‘yes’ without asking, but is this guy you set me up with even my type? Not that I care, obviously; a good story is a good story, but I’m just trying to set my expectations here.”

She furrowed her eyebrows dramatically, and paused unscrewing her lip gloss to rock her entire body into a positive affirmation–almost bumping her forehead on the steering wheel from the force of her nodding. “Oh, absolutely,” she said emphatically. “Looks scary on the outside, but is a total sweetheart on the inside. Overconfident, and obnoxious, but in that charming, swoony way.”

“Perfect!” You clasped your hands together.

Stepping out of the car, she waited for you so you could walk with your arms linked together, and she continued, “I haven’t seen him in years, but Steve was telling me over the phone that he’s been going through a tough time, and hasn’t been on a date in a while.”

“Aw, poor guy.”

There was a beat of silence where both of your faces twisted into knowing smiles.

“I know what that look means..” Robin led, canting her head to you.

Innocent, you lifted your shoulder in a coy shrug, bringing a collection of her soft hair up to your chin. “No idea what you’re talking about. I was just thinking, if he hasn’t been on a date in a while.. Why not make it memorable for him?”

You laughed together, rounding the sidewalk to the front entrance of the theater where the glamorous marquee shined gentle daylight upon the darkened street. Romantic and intimate, with a crowd of people standing in vague suggestions of lines; some broken off, gossiping, smoking.

“There they are,” Robin whispered, letting go of your upper arm to wave at Nancy–who you had met at the grocery store last week. She saw you approaching, and tapped her hand on the chest of the man beside her.

Still a considerable distance away, you peered at him, and placed his luscious hair in your memory. “Oh, that’s the guy who came to the shop today.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah, he was talking to the annoying mechanic I’m always telling you about.”

“The one you have a crush on?”

“Shush,” you bristled at the mention of your not-so-secret. “I do not have a crush on Eddie. Anyway! Did I tell you what he did this morning? He fuckin’ stood outside the window next to my desk, just out of my view for like, full on minutes, waiting for me to look at him. Like Michael Myers or some shit. Scared me half to death.”

Robin, still caught on one detail you had somehow failed to mention in the month you worked at the auto body shop, quietly asked, “..Eddie?”

“Yeah, my coworker,” you answered, not looking at her when she fell a step behind, since you were too focused on greeting Nancy, and introducing yourself to Steve to notice her sudden jog up behind you. Too fixated on complimenting Nancy’s skirt to witness the way Steve aimed his confused frown just past your shoulder. Missed his dismissive hand gestures, and Robin’s panic as she tried to wordlessly communicate something dire to him.

You were too busy listening to the cars cruise by on the street, and chatting casually, and savoring the warmth of a new friendship to scrutinize the sound of quick footsteps from the other direction, or the jangle of metal chains attached to their presence, or Robin’s damning groan.

“Sorry, I’m–” a familiar voice said. A bit nasally and on the higher side. Mirthful, awake with youth, and excited to make a good first impression.

You turned to them. Your date.

“..Late,” they trailed off.

Deer in headlights. Big, brown doe-eyes wide with surprise, framed by beautiful black lashes.

He stared at you.

His stomach sank.

You stared at him.

Your heart raced.

Eddie had stopped mid-step with his hand raised in greeting. The chains on his leather jacket tinkered until they stilled. Kind smile frozen from a better time. Chest filled with a held breath. Presenting himself with his best foot forward, and now his ears were tinted with the embarrassment of trying too hard to impress.

Oh, God.

You blinked away, and were intentional to accept the situation for what it was without showing your surprise, opting for a simple, timid, awkward, shaky, exhaled, “Hey, Eddie.”

He wasn’t so poised.

Shutting his eyes, he allowed the realization to wash over him, scrunching his face in a pained expression as the puzzle pieces slotted into place. He hung his head, and released his breath through his nose. “Your roommate is Robin,” he stated, pointing at her to punctuate his sentence. “And you call her Bobbie.”

“Yeah..” It was an apology as much as it was a confirmation.

“You still call me Bobbie?” Robin asked, tugging on your sleeve, forgetting the tense air surrounding the group for the moment. “I haven’t used that stage name in years.”

“Guess it stuck with me..”

Thankfully, someone else added to the conversation. Unfortunately, that person was Steve addressing the elephant outside the ticket booth.

“So, I take it you two know each other,” he deduced, looking from Eddie’s dejected gaze at the ground, to you wringing your purse strap over your chest.

Eddie enlightened him in a solemn tone, sparing a single glance at his friend, “She’s the receptionist at work.”

“Ah.” He turned his attention to Robin. “You set up two people who work together.”

She threw her hands up and blamed him, “Uh! No way, dunce, don’t put this on me. This whole thing was your idea, and at no point in the conversation did you tell me Eddie was a mechanic! If you had told me he was a mechanic I probably could’ve put two-and-two together myself, and avoided setting up people who see each other every day.”

Increasingly red-faced, Steve very pointedly avoided Eddie’s suspicious squint after being outed as the one who set up the date, not Nancy. “You’re the one who lives with her, how could you not–?”

“Okay!” You clapped once to end their bickering. “Then it’s not a date.”

Nancy, bless her, picked up her improv skills fast. “Yeah! Not a date. Just a casual outing between friends. Steve, get the tickets ready so we can get popcorn before the line gets too long.” There was a ripple of unanimous murmurs, followed by shuffling to the entrance.

“Silver lining,” Nancy muttered out the side of her mouth to Steve, “It’s a movie date, so it’s not like they have to talk to, or look at each other.”

Steve tempered his laugh to a hiss and held the door for Robin, who in turn kept the it ajar behind her for you, but as you went to catch it, it was opened for you.

Clack- clack- clack. You’d heard the sound every morning; his distinct rings on the metal frame of the glass door beside your desk, followed by his soft grunt when pulling it open. But whereas his whispered ‘morning’ normally echoed in the tiled lobby, it was now on the back of your neck, fanning your skin, and it wasn’t a sweet greeting, but a reserved, solemn, regretful, sad, “Sorry for.. yeah.” That’s how he started your date that wasn’t a date. With an apology. And still, as the crisp autumn air was replaced by the humid waft of buttery popcorn, your brain was stuck at the garage, filling in the drag of his heavy work boots on the way to the breakroom for coffee, and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke trailing his stride.

Except, as you were jolted back to reality, you came to know he didn’t present himself so generically outside the context of motor oil. Due to the traffic clogging around the ticket ripper, Eddie ran into you and you discovered the nuances of what he smelled like when not at work, with the added intimacy of his chest pressed to your back.

Worn leather enveloped by notes of vanilla musk cologne. Spicy deodorant carried by the sweet earthy tang of tobacco. Dove White on his heated skin, and Dawn on his hands.

A symphony you could immerse yourself in learning for hours if it wasn’t for the crime of your group moving forward.

“Did you want anything?” Eddie asked you, pointing at the concessions.

“Oh, no, I’m good.” You made a clawing gesture at your mouth. “Eating popcorn before the movie even starts because I have no self control and then being forced to sit there with kernels in my teeth drives me nuts.”

Not finding you as endearing as you intended, he slipped his hands into his pockets, and motioned for both of you to stand off to the side, out of the way while you waited for the others to get their snacks. And he just stood there. Not saying anything. You were turned to him as if to carry a conversation, but his gaze was set ahead; not on anything in particular, just away from you.

Rarely had his face been this slack, this devoid of emotion. Even when doing menial work like filling out invoices for parts you would need to order, there was activity. Liveliness in the tic of his eyes reading lines on the paper. Movement of his tongue sliding across his top lip. A subtle crease between his brows. Something. Anything.

You spoke above the giggly teenagers sneaking into the film next door, “For a stick in the mud, you look nice.” He really did, in his well-loved jacket draping his frame after years of being broken in to perfection. Tight black jeans. Sensible boots. More accessories than just his rings.

Try as he might to cut you an unamused look, his freshly washed hair bounced in immaculate waves around his face, catching the low mood lighting like a messy halo.

“Thanks,” he said, not meaning it.

“I can see why you don’t get many dates if you always look this miserable.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“Glum, then? Woebegone? Hapless? Crestfallen?” When he seemed hellbent on wishing he were anywhere else, you eased up on your act. Harboring the pit of rejection eating away at your stomach, you pried, “Disappointed?”

The glimpse of vulnerability in your words was not lost on him.

He snapped to, shaking himself out of his funk to reassure you in his gentle timbre amongst the chaos of someone beating the top score on the pinball machine, “I’m not disappointed to be here with you.”

“Then what are you?”

“Sorry,” he guessed, shrugging. He was the type to speak with his hands, moving them despite being confined to his pockets. “I’m sorry our friends suck at communicating and this is how your night turned out; you being here with me when you were clearly expecting someone else.” His gaze didn’t dare dip lower than your nose, but the effort you put into your appearance did not go unnoticed. It wasn't the first time he stared a little too directly into your eyes after you decided to stop covering yourself up.

“I don’t go on dates intending to find my one true love or anything lame like that,” you said, honestly. “I go on them to have fun, and I think we can still have fun, even if we have to share the same tiny lunch table come Monday, and we side-eye Carl for bringing tuna again.” He almost smiled at that.

Sensing he needed another boost of confidence, you kept going, “Before I knew it was you, Robin was talking you up in the car. Going on about how my date was some sweet guy, super handsome, and with a heart of gold. You know, the Prince Charming type. Oh, and totally obnoxious too. Real loudmouth who never shuts up.”

Okay, maybe some of that was ad libbed, but you wanted to know how much of it was true.

Eddie shifted from foot to foot, subduing his grin by biting his tongue, literally. “That’s a pretty apt way to describe me back in high school, yeah, especially with how I’m dressed.”

“What changed?”

“Uh, I had a kid,” he laughed. “She stole all my charm. I swear Adrie can talk me into anything.”

“I think you’re just a pushover.”

“Probably,” he surrendered. Raising his brows, he mused aloud one of the many things on his mind, “Do you not agree that she described me accurately? Sweet Prince Charming guy, all that?”

There was no way in hell you were going to speak your truth. Instead, you smirked. “I don’t think you want to know what adjectives I’d use to describe you.” They were far too vulgar to utter in a crowded room. Hot in the most annoying way. Absolute pain in my ass. Just the worst, especially when I don’t hear you sneak up behind me in the kitchen, and you think it’s funny to scare me right as I open my drink from the Coke machine, and you laugh your stupid laugh when I drop it. An absolute eye-sore when you look up at me while you're on your hands and knees cleaning up the mess you created. Irritatingly handsome when you grin and buy me another one.

Ignorant to your private thoughts, he swung his elbow out to push you, and smiled.

Relaxing into the natural lull in conversation, you both watched your friends make it to the front of the line and order their food. They waited at the counter, starting the clock on when they would inevitably make it back to the two of you, and cease your alone time with Eddie. (Although, first, they’d have to traverse an entire bucket of dropped popcorn, and navigate around more than one group of children reenacting a fight scene they just watched on the big screen.)

“Were you disappointed I was your date?” you asked.

Robin was right. Eddie was a sweetheart. As soon as he detected an inkling of insecurity–whether it be in your strained voice, or etched into your face, or imbued in the question itself–he was quick to absolve your worry.

“No, no,” he said. “Relieved, if I’m being honest.”

“Relieved?” You weren’t expecting that.

“There’s a reason I haven’t dated since having Adrie. It didn’t sound like Steve made it clear to.. you, well, my anonymous date which happened to be you. Jesus, this is confusing. Whatever, you know what I mean, he didn’t say if he told my would-be date that I’m a dad, and I was afraid of coming here and having to tell them myself. Even if we hit it off, it’s a deal breaker for some people, y’know? Not that I blame them. I would’ve said the same thing five years ago.”

You nodded as you listened to him. “Never thought about it from that perspective. All my dates have been one-and-dones. Super casual. Kids were never really brought up.”

“Yeah, the dating world isn’t always so gracious. I’m kinda glad I’m here with you–someone who knows me, at least.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Steve raising his sodas above his head as two boys ran past him, pretending they were in a shootout.

Knowing he wouldn’t have time to respond, you informed Eddie, “You’re worrying about the wrong thing. Adrie’s an angel. You should be more concerned about your curmudgeonly attitude being a deal breaker.” His narrowed-eye glare had never felt so sweet.

Robin’s giddy presence became known. She dropped her chin to your shoulder with a satisfied hum, and wrapped her arm around your waist to hug you snug to her body. You laid your head on top of hers, swaying with her.

She must’ve made a face at Eddie, because a different emotion flinched across his features, and he was back to avoiding making eye contact.

You, however, were more enticed by the drink in her hand than analyzing his change in demeanor. “Shit, now I want an Icee.”

“Yeah, I got cherry,” she said, angling the straw towards you. “They have Coke too–Okay, bye, dork,” she giggled after you.

“Go ahead and sit without me! I want an Icee.” Nancy clutched the largest size of popcorn to her chest to avoid spilling it as you stumbled out of Robin’s hold and darted for the concession stand.

Eddie raised his voice, “You couldn’t have decided that five minutes ago when I asked?”

“Nope!”

————

The theater for the low budget horror flick reflected the town’s perception of it. As soon as the heavy door closed behind you, your footsteps on the dense carpet echoed around the empty room. Your group was sitting in the back row, and their murmurs could be heard from the bottom.

You climbed up to them and flumped into the seat next to Eddie. “We can share,” you said excitedly, shaking the drink at him before placing it in the cupholder at the end of the single armrest.

When the subtle pinch of concern around his eyes remained, you promised him you didn’t have cooties.

He played with his rings, pulling them down the length of his fingers and spinning them while he worked through his confusion. “You don’t have to sit next to me.. You can sit next to Robin.” He motioned beside him, to Steve munching on his popcorn while Nancy held it, and Robin whispering on the end, rolling her eyes at something Nancy said.

“Why wouldn’t I sit next to you?”

Eddie’s mouth opened and closed, struggling to settle on what he wanted to say, and finishing with a submissive shrug, leather jacket groaning at the act. He bounced his foot quicker, shaking the aglets on his laces against his boot in a chaotic rhythm. “Dunno..”

“You’re silly. I’d pinch your cheek if I didn’t think you’d bite me.” He reeled at that, and you giggled. You didn’t mind making him balk at your weird quirks; whatever put him at ease. Rather, whatever made him stop rubbing his knee against yours, because you were certain the friction was about to cause a fire.

Digging through your purse, you took out a rectangular box and slid your finger under the flap, popping it open and dumping a handful of candy into your palm. You threw it back into your mouth. “Want sh-ome?” you chewed, offering the box to him.

“Who the hell eats Mike and Ikes?”

“Uh, me, jerk.” Right as the lights dimmed to pitch black, and the curtains drew back from the screen, you hit him with the most exaggerated pout. “I only eat them at the movies. They’re a ritual, and you’re rude.” The shadows lining his face twisted into a deeper grin. “Are you more of a chocolate guy?”

“Maybe,” he answered like he was suspicious of your motives.

And maybe he should be. Afterall, you committed the number one sin when it came to cinemas.

“Looks like I chose right,” you said, reaching into your purse and pulling out a Kit Kat. “I was hoping my date would be a chocolate sorta guy–” You went quiet seeing his eyes widen a touch. “I mean, not date. Begrudging coworker? Tentative acquaintance?”

“Reluctant friend,” he answered smoothly, taking the package from you and ripping it open with his teeth.

~~~

Trailers for other films played, bathing the room in flickers of light interrupting the darkness. The opening credits began. Your candy was half-eaten. His was devoured. You took a sip of your Icee, and from the vantage point of pressing your back into the cheap theater seat, you observed him in your periphery.

His gaze hardly left the drink. Your offer to share it gnawed at him in a visible way. Scoping out the straw, the possible trace of spit you left behind, the possible trace of spit he’d leave behind. He peered at the screen to acknowledge the intro, and then back down it was, boring holes into the Icee.

You were no better, nibbling at your lips when he finally caved and took a sip–all too quick, and clumsy, almost missing the cup holder when he put it back down with lightning speed.

The edge of your thighs touched under the arm rest; worse so, when you folded one leg under you, and leaned into him. “Do you hate it when people talk during movies?”

“Not these kind.” He meant the genre in general, which made for great fodder for ripping apart in friend groups, but another popular trope among this realm of fiction became apparent. The first set of tits flashed on screen, and you both found yourselves lacking in the commentary department.

After a moment, you tilted your head. “That actress looks familiar..”

“She’s been in other cult classics. Always acts with her eyebrows.” He turned to you and nudged your shoulder, vying for your full attention. He emphasized the end of each word with an inflection as if it were a question, and raised his eyebrows in every way possible, mocking her slowly, “She’s the one who always talks like this–!” He looked crazy contorting his face to make his point.

“That’s it!” You snapped. “Her wearing glasses really threw me off.”

“Mhm.” His hum vibrated along your upper arm pressed to his, and he asked quietly under the screams of the first gorey death, “Do you like B movies?”

“Hell yeah. Back home they would play them at this rooftop drive in place. I rarely paid to watch them, though. The next building over had a good view of the projector screen.”

His banter dropped in favor of chewing on the corner of his thumb. If it wasn’t for the wild change in scenery cast across his face, you could’ve sworn his faint smile faltered into inscrutability.

Did you say something wrong?

————

“Damn, that was a cool practical effect,” Eddie complimented the purplish fizzing ooze that once was a person.

“I know, right? That’s why I love these bad movies. There’s no budget for good CGI, so they have to do creative stuff like that.”

It was inevitable. Bound to happen. A mere act of fate. Stars aligning in the close knit group leaning forward to exchange witty quips about the hare-brained plot holes in the movie, and not minding their surroundings except to receive everyone’s laughter, making jokes at the expense of the bad acting.

Steve was asking a question that was technically answered by the movie’s lore if he’d paid attention to the dialogue during the second gratuitous stripping scene. You or Eddie could have answered, but Robin took it upon herself to explain, and you two nodded along.

Absentminded, you reached for the Icee.

Distracted, Eddie reached for the Icee.

The waxed paper cup was cold under your fingers, but your hand was blanketed by warmth.

Slow to process, you both glanced down at the reason why neither of you were achieving your goal, and the overload of sensory inputs faded away to one: touch.

Your thumb was trapped under his palm, and his fingers stretched around the cup, meeting yours on the other side and housing them beneath his in a steady amount of pressure. They were almost interlocking. Holding. Wrist on top of wrist–his with the extra harshness of his leather and chain bracelet on your skin. The heaviness of his forearm resting on yours.

Truly, the accident lasted all of two pumps of your heart, but it felt like more when he stroked his calloused fingertips over your knuckles as he let go.

“Sorry!” he blurted.

“S-Sorry,” you laughed, jittery from the encounter.

Your cheeks were hot. His were flushed red. The lewd moaning of a woman feigning to orgasm just from the male lead removing her bra alone played in the background. Neither of you could decide which plan of escape was less embarrassing: continuing to stare like idiots at each other, or watch the actress’ ginormous boobs bounce as she faked riding a guy.

You blinked. His eyebrows ticced up.

Boobs it was.

He adjusted how he sat, tugging his jeans down his legs a little, and crossing his arms. Eyes laser focused on the woman’s face. The why was obvious, and you couldn’t help but tease him for pretending to be a gentleman in your company when you held no such modesty when it came to ogling her tits.

“Thinking about how much Aquanet she uses?”

“Shut up.”

————

Later into the film, after the plot circled back to the juicy gore, you leaned into Eddie to ask him a question.

What that question was, you couldn’t remember.

As soon as you placed your elbow on the armrest and used the back of your hand to tap his shoulder, he dipped his head to hear you. It was an automatic thing starting from the moment you slouched in your seat. That’s all. A shift in your sitting position and intake of breath, and he knew you were going to speak, and he wanted to listen. He cared about what you had to say. He leaned into you as well, because listening to you took priority over the movie.

“Eddie?” You sought any words. Any words at all. Any would do. Any question, even if you knew the answer. “Uhm. The music sounds really familiar. Do you recognize it?”

“It’s the same composer as Chopping Mall and Deathstalker II.”

“Ah.”

Ah. All you could muster when you were charmed by the silhouette of his lips moving. Watching them form letters, pout on the plosives, press into a line on his thick swallow.

Ah. All you could say when his hair brushed over your fingers. Dry, in need of a deep conditioning. Curling around your forefinger. Tickling your palm.

Ah. All you could respond with when you lifted your gaze, and caught him staring at you like you stared at him.

————

As predicted, the filmmakers padded the runtime with another topless scene, and the movie ended on a witty one liner that included not one, but two puns, and no resolution to the numerous plot threads left hanging.

“That was.. certainly something!” Robin summed up, holding the doors open to the subdued hours of the night.

Once outside in the fresh air, the dynamic reverted back to its original status.

Your friends made themselves scarce in the worst way; whistling, shuffling to the side as they found asinine things to comment on, leaving you and Eddie alone. Their intentions were pure, but reality was not so kind.

Eddie cemented his gaze on the sidewalk as he picked at his callouses, and apologized for the mistake of going out with you. Again. “Sorry about all this.”

Itchy sweat broke out across your back. It sucked he was so brazen about rejecting you. You had  hoped some of the tender crush you had on him extended past the armrest you shared, the looks you shared, the touches you shared; but maybe you were just tricking yourself into finding things that weren’t there.

Wanting to end on a better note, you appealed to him in a last ditch effort to smooth over the situation, “I meant it when I said you looked good tonight. It’s nice to see you outside of your work clothes.”

“Thanks.”

That’s all. Thanks. A shy glance from beneath his curtain of messy hair, and a somber tone to maximize the awkwardness of the not-date with your coworker.

You needed to get the hell out of there. “See you Monday?”

“Yeah, see you Monday.”

The group winced in unison when they saw the way you two departed.

Robin was quick to link her arm with yours and gather you closer, bringing your heads together to gossip as you walked back to her car. “That bad, huh?”

Around the corner and out of sight, you gave her half a smile, trying to appear in better spirits. “Well, I don’t think he likes me. He didn’t return any of my compliments, and he apologized for being on a date with me no less than four times over the course of the evening.”

She cringed for you. “That’s worse than Balloon Guy, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, remembering what would go down in history as the shittiest date you’d been on. “Yeah, that’s more times than Balloon Guy.” Robin hugged you tighter, making your steps go clumsy. She apologized for Eddie’s weirdness, but you shrugged. Maybe you were supposed to find it weird, too. Maybe you were supposed to disapprove of the idea of romantic feelings for your coworker, too. Maybe you were supposed to have no expectations for it to lead anywhere, too.

Maybe you were supposed to reject him, too.

————

Still loitering outside the theater, Steve exchanged a look with Nancy, and jogged to catch up with Eddie before he made it too far in the opposite direction.

“Uh, hey buddy!” Steve clapped him on the shoulder to stop him. “It sounded like you two were hitting it off during the movie, what happened?”

Eddie sulked under the question. His chest fell with a surrendering sigh, and his boots scraped the concrete as he turned to him, not bothering to mask the dullness in his slack expression. Everything about him was tired, including his voice when he slipped into a lower, raspy octave. “She’s nice, but..”

“But what?” Nancy asked, searching his face.

Bottling his burdens, he clenched his teeth, and worked his jaw as he contemplated evading their insistent prying; but after ruminating on it, he explained the source of his problems, “She lives a very.. whimsy life.” He fluttered his hand like a bird flapping its wings, or a butterfly. “She does this thing where she says ‘yes’ to anything anyone asks her; it’s why she moved to Hawkins, and why she ended up on this date to begin with. Y’know, just doing whatever seems like fun. It’s cute, in a way, and obviously I.. feel a way towards her, but this place isn’t where she’s looking to lay down roots. New York is her home.”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, knowing what was about to come.

“I’ve already been left for someone better.. I can’t go through that again.” Eddie’s eyes begged them to understand. “I don’t want Adrie to get attached to someone who’s just gonna leave.”

Nancy started, “Eddie–You don’t know if she’d leave.”

He shook his head, and pulled away from Steve’s lingering grasp. Shushed his friend’s well-meaning words about him being valued, and to forget his insecurities about not being good enough.

“A girl like that doesn’t need me weighing her down,” Eddie said, imparting the wisdom he’d come to accept since you made a mark on his life weeks ago, when it became your mission to befriend him. “I’ll pick up Adrie in the morning. Thanks for watching her.”

The night got darker as he left.

Darker still, when Steve waved at his back, and Nancy played with the locket around her neck, and her goodbye went disregarded.

————

Silence.

It surrounded him. Blood pulsing in his ears, his heart beat, the refrigerator hum, the tink of glass bottles as he grabbed the full six pack and brought it to the couch, springs squeaking under his weight.

Utter emptiness welcomed him.

Not a sound in his home. Not a giggle from his daughter, or scrape of a skillet from Wayne’s makeshift breakfast-dinner before he went to work. Even the dogs around the trailer park were quiet.

Just.. nothing.

It was what he wanted, right? A night to himself; a break from the chores, the questions, the food making, the taking care of a tiny human being who made everything tougher than it needed to be.

He got his wish.

Two beers down in peace, he got his wish.

Eddie looked around his trailer lit by the single lamp beside him.

Quiet, empty, nothing.

Dark silence.

The jolt of his sob startled him. It erupted from his chest so suddenly. Ripped from the tightness of repressed emotions; the things he tried to deny, to feel and then lock away. To keep safe, buried down deep where he could manage them from progressing past the boundaries he created for his own good, and Adrie’s. He felt the agony of them all at once. The morning smiles, the afternoon laughs, the evenings of pretending you didn’t plan to bump into each other in the doorway to the lobby. The game of seeing how long he could watch you twirl the phone cord around your finger before you looked up from your desk. Your sweet way of comforting him after the hard nights of Adrie’s sleep regression by taking his tan work jacket and draping it over his shoulders while he slept at the lunch table in the break room. Your gentle method of fixing his collar when it was tucked on the inside of his coveralls.

The date was too good to be true.

In fact, the truth itself was far more painful.

The date was amazing. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had more fun. More thrills, sure. But not more fun. There wasn’t a day in his youth where he experienced more of the flirty thrum in his veins than when he committed himself to learning the way your lips moved when saying his name in the darkened theater.

The date was perfect. He was happy. And he couldn’t have it again. Shouldn’t have it again. Wouldn’t have these feelings again.

Eddie doubled over and put his third beer on the floor before he spilled it. Nothing was discernible beyond the water invading his ability to see, to fathom his reflection in the old TV. Sad, miserable, and lonely. An idiot for finally getting attached to someone, and it was someone he wasn’t supposed to.

Tears slipped from between his lashes. He smeared them on his cheeks, covering his sweaty face from his possessions bearing witness to his stupidity.

It was in his best interest to reject you–reject your casual stance on dating, and relationships, and people with kids–but the face you made when your advances went underappreciated churned his stomach.

He needed to be stronger. But he was weak.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighed into the stale air. Opening another beer, he nursed it as he huddled into the corner of the couch, and searched for Adrie’s quilt to soothe him. But of course, he sent it with her when he dropped her off at Steve’s.

No baby blanket to hold onto. No Adrienne to sleep on his chest to ease the pain of loneliness. No reason to look forward to Monday after he royally screwed everything up.

“Goddamnit,” he groaned.

Maybe, if he apologized enough, there was a chance you wouldn’t hate him.

Maybe, if you forgave him, you’d go back to the morning smiles, and the afternoon laughs.

And maybe, if he was enough of a masochist, he’d let you gently ease past those boundaries meant to keep you, and your kindness out. If you wanted to trespass, that is. He didn’t know. He was an idiot.

[munson-enthusiast]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶It's a dreary start to the week, but as the days go by, the dynamic between you and Eddie shifts. You both ask questions with hidden motives, and after a significant morning, he tells you about Adrie's mom. Then, Steve shows up unannounced with a proposition Eddie can't refuse. Literally.✶

NSFW — slow burn, mutual pining, flirting, light angst, depictions of poverty, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 2/20 [wc: 5.3k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 2: Whimsy as the Wind

Monday was a storm.

There was no better stimulant than the rush of a morning against the rain. Hitting like bullets on the skin when Eddie clutched Adrie to his chest to shield her on the way to the car. Spelling disaster for the braids she asked for, then complained about when he pulled her hair too tight. Dripping into his eyes as he fumbled with the buckle of her car seat in the jet black hours. Drenching the bottom of her favorite pants despite his efforts to protect her.

“Daddy’s sorry,” he mumbled on her wet forehead shining under the dim overhead light.

On the way to preschool she was quiet. The rhythm of the fat drops pounding on the window soothed her, and he was grateful, despite the rising sensation of lateness grating on his nerves.

Everything moved slower on stormy days. Yet he moved faster. It didn’t matter if he skipped eating his breakfast at home to get out the door quicker, the red stop lights took longer, he swore it.

Life was against him. But Adrie was quiet, and Mrs. Teresa was in charge of helping the little ones out of their cars. She was an out-of-towner, meaning, she wasn’t aware of Eddie’s reputation, and therefore was nicer to him than the other teachers, taking care to go beyond superficial greetings.

“Good morning, my dear,” she said to him, voice rough with age. She held an umbrella above his head as he got Adrie out, and followed him to the awning. His coveralls were already darkened by rain, but the gesture was kind, as was him offering his arm for her to hold onto as she stepped over the whirlpool circling the sewer drain.

Eddie sank into a crouch to ease his daughter’s vice grip from his neck. “Give Daddy a kiss goodbye, ‘kay?” Begrudgingly, she stood on her own two feet, and gave him a quick, annoyed peck on his cheek. “You gonna be good today?”

The attitude radiating off her was not promising.

“Your friends are waiting for you inside,” Mrs. Teresa said. “I think they’re playing dress up.”

An offer which proved enticing, as demonstrated by Adrie bolting from him for the front doors.

“No running,” he sighed to himself. The older woman chortled along, and wished him to have a good day as well. He should’ve taken the heart-palpitating lightning strike and simultaneous adrenaline-inducing clap of thunder as an omen when she uttered those words.

If not those things, then certainly his breakfast was a harbinger of the day he was about to have: instead of making two grape jelly biscuits, and two with egg, he ended up making two with both jelly and his daughter’s cold leftover scrambled eggs, and the others were left plain.

He ate the plain ones first before venturing into uncharted territory.

“Fuck no,” he said, mouth full of grape flavored egg-mulch. At least no one had to witness him spit it back into the container.

David’s Auto Repair didn’t have much in the way of shelter to keep him dry during his smoke break, so he sat in his car in the alleyway to pass the time until it was acceptable to arrive early.

‘Early’ being the time when you usually arrived, and an hour before Carl.

Til then, he cranked the heat and reclined his seat back, hugging himself to relieve the constant shiver his damp coveralls caused sticking to his skin.

Now, the heavy rain patter became a lullaby. Pelting the roof, easy on his falling eyelids. Precious seconds, minutes under the guided meditation of tap, tap. Tap, tap. Responsibilities drifting to the recesses of his mind. Thinking back on the days he spent doing this in the high school parking lot, promising Wayne he’d work hard to graduate only to end up napping in his van for most of the morning.

Eddie willed his eyes open. His watch told him he’d been asleep for fourteen minutes. Still early for work, but he felt a jolt of anxiety anyway.

He couldn’t blow things off like he used to. Not with people relying on him. Adrie and Wayne both depended on him to not be a fuck up. And if they weren’t motivation enough, he had another..

You should be sitting at your desk right now. If he timed it right, he’d pass by while the scent of dried coffee still clung to you before it had started brewing, which was an odd association he didn’t know he craved at the moment until it was at the forefront of his mind.

“Already following her around like a lost puppy, Munson,” he chided himself, turning off the car and bracing himself for the sprint to the employee’s entrance at the back of the garage.

And when he entered, the employee’s entrance at the front of the garage slammed open on a flashing cue of lightning, and there stood what he could only assume was a Creature from the Deep.

You huffed in two breaths, “Holy. Shit.”

Eddie tactlessly stared from across the room. You were beyond soaked. Your primary colored all-weather jacket appeared to not be waterproof in a monsoon, sagging on your frame like a melting street light of red, yellow, and green. Much like his coveralls, your once light-wash jeans were now dark blue. Somewhat adorably, though, was your pissed-off face being scrunched in a glare due to your hoodie drawstrings cinched tight in a circle, framing from your brows to your lips.

Your shoes gushed out puddles of rain on the concrete as you shoved your bike forward and let it fall in a clatter.

“I fucking hate this town.”

“Why are you riding a bike?” he asked, thinking you’d gone insane.

“Because I don’t have a car?”

“Why don’t you have a car?”

You sputtered sarcastically, gesturing at your bike. “Because I’m from the city! We have things like public transportation. Trains, taxis, buses.. walking! I've never needed a car to reach my mailbox before.”

Thinking himself helpful, he suggested, “I know a place where we can get you one for cheap.”

“Dude, I don’t even have a license.”

“Why don’t you–?”

“Trains!”

Eddie’s face collapsed into his own glare right back at you, and he waved his hands about the auto repair garage for automobiles where he fixed cars for people in need of transportation in which you answered their calls regarding said transportation and ordered parts to repair said personal automobiles at the garage intended for cars where he worked. You got the irony.

“None of this matters,” you said, dismissing him. True, it didn't matter, and he knew from your exaggerations your anger at him was in jest, but he appreciated the banter regardless. It was a nice break from reality. “It took me so long to get here because my whole street was flooded, and I’m guessing it’s flooding outside of Hawkins where the storm is coming from. We were supposed to get a delivery yesterday, but it never showed up.”

There was a pause where both of you accepted the arduous day ahead.

You said, “I’ll start calling around to see where our delivery might be stuck.”

“And I’ll do what I can without it,” he agreed.

Inhaling a breath of fortitude knowing you’d be informing a few upset individuals today that their cars wouldn’t be ready, you unzipped your jacket and loosened the drawstrings, dropping your hood back. You froze.

“Oh God, don’t look at my hair,” you begged, scuttling through the lobby and into the bathroom.

There were no more exchanges after you ran away. There was no time to entertain the lingering gazes, or small conversations where he thrived on your smile. He had to process what he could to earn money before sundown, and you played phone tag until you yawned, and stared blank-faced at the wall while customers bitched at you.

By normal closing hours, you were both too beaten down to do more than walk past each other on your way out without a goodbye.

A part of him wanted to do the chivalrous thing and offer you a ride, but that seemed too forward, too intimate, too invasive in his small car where his backseat was partially taken up by his daughter’s car seat, and he couldn’t come to a conclusion about your surprise when seeing her, nor unpack the loaded question of why he cared.

Whatever.

At least the rain stopped.

————

Tuesday was overcast.

You looked at Eddie leaning on the countertop to your desk and spun your hand while rolling your eyes, wishing the person on the other end of the phone line would hurry up. Eventually, you hung up, and interrupted him from picking at his nails. “They said it’ll be thirty minutes before they get here.”

“Guess I’ll wait then.”

He didn’t make to leave, and you didn’t have anything else to do, so you laced your fingers and leaned onto your forearms towards him, hoping through giving him your attention, he’d willingly talk to you for once.

“Um,” he drew out, searching the expanse between your hands, where he encroached on your space if only to the wrist. He tapped his knuckles on the vinyl. Swallowed visibly “About your policy thing.. Did you really move here just because your roommate asked you to?”

You drew your gaze up from his descending Adam’s apple, over the soft edge of his jawline, and grainy stubble on his chin. “I mean, kinda, yeah. Obviously, she’s been my best friend for years and needed help moving anyway, so I was up to make the trip, but when she asked if I wanted to stay, I said yes. Seemed intriguing enough; discovering what else was out there after living in cities for so long. See what sorta trouble I could get into when not surrounded by the usual nightlife options.”

“And how’s that going so far?”

“Bobbie’s mom and I are real good at solving the Wheel of Fortune before the contestants.”

Eddie snorted.

He dropped his focus to the looping circles he was drawing with his fingertip. Breathing deeper than necessary, and holding the air in his lungs for a few taut seconds. He rambled, “Sounds like Hawkins isn’t the place for you. Just somewhere to blow through, waiting for someone to ask you to, like, go to Chicago and be a bartender or somethin’.” He ended with a laugh aimed at his hands. Hollow. Empty of the humor he was pretending. “No responsibilities. Ready to get up and go whenever you want. That’s cool.”

“Been there, done that,” you mitigated the tension with a joke. “Bartending in Chicago, I mean.” He wasn’t being purposefully cruel, but the bitterness creeping into his words stung.

You glanced at his ringless fingers. Was he envious of your lifestyle because he was tied down? Your gut instinct told you he wasn’t the type to hold that sort of resentment towards his wife or daughter, so it had to be something else.

“Or,” you countered, “Someone could ask me to stay in Hawkins, and then I’d be obligated to, if we’re abiding by the policy. Who knows, maybe Kevin needs someone to walk his dogs, and then I can lead a nice, quiet, boring life here, absent of any fun or risks, hanging out with dogs for the next eternity. Is that what you want? Me bothering you until you’re in the grave?”

He squinted. “Fair point.” The laugh lines bracketing his mouth enhanced his appeal, joining the crow’s feet, and the harsh crease between his brows as he raised one in smug curiosity.

Perhaps you were staring at him for longer than you realized.

By chance, a chime signaled you both to a customer walking in the door in need of an oil change, and you reaped any opportunity to tease him. “Sorry, but some of us have work to do and can’t chit chat all day,” you cooed with the absolute cockiest head tilt to taunt him.

Shooing him away with a manila folder was extra, you had to admit, but upon recognizing the manner in which he rolled his lips inward to disguise the fact he was smiling, you figured smacking his hands was well worth the weird look from the woman waiting to speak to you.

————

Wednesday was a gale-force.

You went for it.

Arriving at dawn, you prioritized catching Eddie at the beginning of his morning cigarette.

He was leaning against the wall, upper body hunched with his hand cupped around his mouth, flicking his lighter until more than sparks stood against the gusts whipping the collar of his coveralls against his neck. His hair was blown back from his face, granting you the full picture of his raised eyebrows.

“Good morning, Eddie!”

“Hey? You’re early. I thought you’d get swept away on your bike like Dorothy, and I’d have to seek the courage to find you.”

“So in this scenario you’re the Cowardly Lion?” you asked, sidling up next to him to be heard above the wind.

He considered the implication and shrugged. “Guess even in my wildest dreams I’m still a coward.” Like any nice person, you sprung to assure him that despite your very short month of knowing each other, he (probably) wasn’t a coward, and he caught you. He caught you with your mouth wide open, ready to defend his honor.

Smoke slipped from his coy lips.

You tutted, “I think you’re the Scarecrow.” No brains.

“Anyway,” you went on, back to the reason your calves ached from pedaling like a mad man to get here at the same time as him. “It’s not like I bike that far. Bobbie’s parents live on that street next to the big open field, like, fifteen minutes away. Maybe twenty. Or ten?” You pointed vaguely north.

There’s a reason you never navigated on road trips.

“I thought they sold that empty lot forever ago,” he said.

“Well, unless they sold it to a bunch of tiny white mice who scurry every time I open the back door, I think it’s still abandoned.” You took your hands out of your jacket pockets and displayed them. “Not just mice, either. The other day I swear there was a spider the size of my palm in the bathroom.”

Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he tipped his head back to blow the smoke above him before leaning over to study your hands up close. Contemplating them with keenness under the gray wash sky. Mumbling numbers to himself as if he were taking measurements.

He straightened up, and concluded, “Eh, not that impressive with how small your hands are.”

“Are they small?”

You faced him and presented your right hand.

Take the bait. Take the bait. Take the bait.

Eddie rolled onto his shoulder, body still at an angle from his legs crossed at the ankles. With a blank face, he understood what you wanted and decided to indulge your silliness, even if it meant sacrificing his warmth.

Uncrossing his arms, he wiped his hands on his clothes first out of habit.

Come on, Eddie.

None the wiser, he matched your thumbs. Pressed his left hand to yours.

Holy shit. He fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“Mm,” you hummed. You leaned in for a better look.

His hand was warm and damp from sweat. Concentrated heat emanated from his palm sealed to yours, securing the soft cups together, aligning the stretch of your fingers. Where yours were soft, his were rough. Lines of thick calluses. Hardened exteriors acting as a barrier from your tender self discovering what his skin truly felt like brushing over your own.

He wore three rings. All gaudy and themed. Costume-y. Definitely not of the wedding variety.

That didn’t mean he was single, but you doubted he was taken when you turned to him, and found his large nose to be inches from yours, and his gaze to be fond of your cheeks before meeting your eyes.

He bent the top joint of his fingers over yours, and slid his thumb to the outside, crowding your bones in a tight squeeze, establishing his advantage. “Still small,” he said, toothy and boyish; mouth crooked, and hand rolled cigarette bouncing on the syllables. “Let me know when you see a spider as big as my palm.”

Hypnotized, you agreed with whatever he said. “Duly noted. I’ll keep an eye out.”

His Cupid’s bow had no business being that sharp, nor his bottom lip that plump.

————

Thursday was raw.

Nighttime was a purple haze chasing the orange glow behind the trees. You walked around the garage with a small trash can in your arms, tidying up the place. Eddie was staying late again. He said it was to make up for Monday’s mess, but those jobs were completed days ago.

You nudged his boots to get his attention on your way to clean up the work bench. Though you wouldn’t consider yourselves close, you collected the few details you knew of his life, and held them dear to your heart, feeling privileged to know them. “Is your uncle not working today?”

His thighs flexed under the strained fabric of his uniform as he cranked a wrench. “He is,” he grunted from beneath the car, “I’m just trying to get in some hours before he leaves for the night shift.”

Fuck it, you’ll just ask. “How come you work late so often?”

The grinding stopped. For a moment, Eddie laid there, stomach rising and falling as he debated with himself. Seconds went by until he set down the tool and rolled out, sitting up on the creeper board.

Your question struck pink across his pale cheeks. Rather, the way you avoided it brought shame to his face. Why don’t you want to spend more time with your family?

The societal judgment of what he was about to admit weighed on him. He curled in on himself. Drew his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them loosely, latching at the wrist. He braced the words on his tongue–raw and vulnerable–and slipped a finger under his bandana to scratch at his temple.

“Sometimes I’d rather just be here,” he began slowly. “As soon as I get home, I’m the problem solver, you know? Whatever needs to be done, I have to do it while Adrie’s talking a mile a minute, screaming every question under the sun at me, and climbing all over me. I’m doing shit like trying to not burn her dinner while switching over the laundry and picking up the living room and telling her not to touch the stove and fighting with her to take a bath and making sure she has clothes picked out for the morning because if she doesn’t, then I have to spend twenty minutes calming her down before we leave for school so she can decide which shirt she wants to wear, and God.” He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his fingers on either side of his nose, muffling his voice. “I know I’m a shit dad, but sometimes I just want to turn my brain off, and stay here instead.”

“You’re not a shit dad,” you said with soft conviction.

He disregarded you with a mean scoff. “I sound like I hate my kid.”

“You sound overwhelmed, and tired, Eddie.”

“Maybe..”

Remembering you were holding the trash can, you set it down and leaned your hip on the workbench, settling into a comfortable position with a gentle ease of kindness to your expression, showing him it was okay to vent. You’d listen. It was safe. It was safe to show you the ugly parts of him. It would be okay.

You approached the next topic with care, though you could infer the answer for yourself now, “Is there no one else you can rely on besides your uncle to help alleviate some of the stress?”

“No. It’s just us. My parents have been out of the picture for a long time, and Adrie’s mom, uh..” He surrendered to the need for eye contact, wanting to see you, and stated evenly, “Adrie’s mom and I were never together. She was a customer of mine–”

Darting your gaze around the room, you pointed at the garage in an expression of ‘Really, dude?’

He turned puckish. He pinched his index and thumb together and tapped them to his smirk, indicating a much different line of work. You ‘ahh’d.

“Yeah, not a frequent flier either, just someone I saw here and there at parties or whatever. All it took was one night of stupidity. One fucking night of mistake after mistake, man.. N-Not that I think of Adrienne as a mistake! God, no. Just–y’know–the events leading up to her weren’t ideal.”

You held your hand up to stop him. “I’m not judging you. My parents never bothered to correct themselves.”

Mutual pain converged in your matching shrugs. Both of you were the undesireables. Though, he couldn’t imagine you being called a mistake when his failures were glaring.

Sinking into the solace of your presence, he explained further, “Adrie’s mom said–at most–three sentences to me after giving birth, and that was it. Everything else was handled by the court. She made it clear she wanted nothing to do with us, so sole custody should’ve been easy, but the system fucking sucks. Not once did I say anything contradictory; I made it clear from the beginning I wanted my daughter, but I know how I look on paper.. Trailer trash through and through. Busted for drugs more than once. Living with my uncle in a single bedroom piece of shit. Taking three attempts to pass high school. No real job at the time, and beyond broke. They kept trying to convince her to split custody, at least for the first year, but no.” There was a cynical dejection about him. One of haunting acceptance, thinking lowly of himself with his head hung, and glazed over eyes staring faraway. “She found someone better. Some guy with money who lived in Indianapolis, and she wanted to start a life with him. Move on from Adrienne. And me.”

“Eddie?” you called out to him.

“Hm?”

“You may not view my opinion highly, but I think you’re a great dad, and person. Money, reputation, criminal record or whatever else can go fuck itself.” You folded your legs under you, and sat opposite him with your back resting against the table leg. He scooted closer on his board, narrowing the swath of concrete between you to a few feet. “Beat yourself up all you want, but your love for your daughter is apparent. She’s happy. She’s safe. She’s fed. You take care of her just fine, and you’re allowed to feel frustrated, and you’re allowed to feel like you need a break.”

When he remained unconvinced, you insisted, “Adrie adores you, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “I know. That’s why Wayne never has these problems with her. It’s only me she’s ultra clingy with. Like if she’s not attached to me twenty-four-seven I cease to exist and she’ll never see me again.”

Something beautiful occurred in his shy glance. In his bashful smile. In the clumsy removal of his bandana, pulling his hair free from the ponytail and shaking it out. Wild.

His big brown eyes regarded you, and you beheld him in a similar light.

Something changed.

No longer casual acquaintances; you two looked at each other like you were friends.

“Sorry for rambling so much,” Eddie said.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Good. Because I’m not done.” He crept forward a few more inches, and aired his grievances in a lighthearted tone, bitching for the sake of getting it off his chest, “This time of year is really rough on us. Gotta buy her all new school supplies with whatever franchise or animal she’s obsessed with now. Which is unicorns, by the way. And, y’know kids grow like crazy. If it’s not an entire new wardrobe, then it’s the shoes. I swear this kid goes through shoes like she’s ruining them on purpose. I’m almost certain I buy new ones every time I blink.” 

A car passed on the street outside; the only break in the suffocating silence of a brick building echoing Eddie’s dramatic hand gestures as he sought sanity.

“She starts kindergarten next September and I’m already dreading it. She’s made lots of friends, which I’m grateful for.. Seriously, I’m really grateful that she’s made friends so easily, but she always wants to dress like them, do the things they do, go the places they go, and I try to figure out ways to afford it, but sometimes it’s too much, and I fucking despise telling her ‘no.’ Then there’s also the birthday parties basically every other weekend, and you can’t attend those empty-handed either, can you?”

You nodded patiently. “I suppose you are correct.”

“Kids are expensive, and it’s only worse at Christmas,” he concluded. Your stomach growled. “You want to leave, don’t you?”

Remaining in your slumped over position with your elbow propped on your thigh, and your cheek to your fist with your eyes closed, you asked, “What gave you that idea?”

He could mock you to his heart’s content, but you were right.

“Shit,” he exhaled, reading the wall clock. “We should go. Wayne leaves for work soon.”

“And Bobbie’s probably waiting for me to get home to gush about her girlfriend.” You stood up and stretched. “It’s cute, like a long-lost lovers situation, but yeah, she can go on for hours.”

————

Friday was cloudy with a chance of sun.

Tires screeched to a stop in the driveway of the garage, and someone honked their horn incessantly.

Startled, Eddie hit his head on the hood of the car he was bent over, and hissed between his teeth. He rubbed at the sore spot and glared behind him, ready to tell the nuisance off.

Except, if he did that, he’d be telling off his best friend.

“Of course it’s you,” he projected in a clipped voice, making his annoyance known.

Steve slammed his car door shut, and leaned against it, lighting a cigarette while Eddie made his way over. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, “I’m here on my lunch break, so if you wouldn’t mind gettin’ a little pep in your step, Munson.”

Passing by your inquisitive face smashed to the window beside your desk, Eddie raised his hand to show you everything was okay, and that there was no need to chew someone out for causing a disturbance.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie asked, shuffling up to him. The sun was warm on his skin; a nice change from the shadowy cold warehouse, and Steve basked in it as well, golden hair flopping in the gentle breeze.

There was a moment where they both displayed their nervous habits. Eddie with his tongue prodding the inner corner of his lips, and Steve taking inventory of his surroundings during the drag of his cigarette.

“Look,” Steve stressed. Eddie sighed. “We haven’t seen much of you lately, and Nancy had the idea to go to the theater to see that horror movie that came out a few weeks ago. We’ll probably have the whole place to ourselves, and she, ah, invited someone else. Someone who is also single, if you catch my very obvious drift.”

Eddie’s hand immediately climbed its way to his throat, stroking the column and making a sound of disinterest. “I dunno, man.”

“Well, we’ve already paid the babysitter to watch a third kid, and we don’t mind Adrie sleeping over for the night. You can drop her off at 4 and, uh–” He nodded at his coveralls. “Get cleaned up, or whatever and meet us at 6. Make a good first impression.” At Eddie’s apathetic grunt, he sighed, “I know what you’re gonna say, but your date’s already agreed to go, and it’d be a shame if you left them hanging.”

Rolling his shoulders, Eddie forced himself to stop fidgeting by stuffing his hands in his pockets, and focused on the clouds crawling across the sky. “Fine. What’re they like?”

“Your date?”

“Yes, my fucking date you moron.”

Steve shrugged with a mischievous grin. “Dunno. I said Nancy’s the one who invited her, not me.”

Eddie faltered, “So, you don’t even know if she’s into someone like me?” When Steve quirked his eyebrow, it just increased Eddie’s agitation. He made sweeping motions down his body. Steve continued to smoke with a dumb pout. “Jesus, dude.” He stamped in a circle, making a big show with his arms, imploring with an exhausted bite to his tone, “You know what I’m asking.”

“No, I don’t know if she’s into metalhead freaks who are dads, sorry.”

“You’re the bane of my existence.”

“So it’s an official ‘yes?’” he asked without the sarcasm. “I mean, you might as well show up. Wayne’s got his poker tournament with his friends today, doesn’t he? That means you’ll have the place to yourself. Hey, play your cards right and you’ll get some action tonight. I imagine you haven’t gotten lucky since Adrie’s conception, yeah?”

Steve’s laugh was explosive and loud, but it petered out to a pitying noise the longer Eddie squinted into the distance.

“Really? I was just trying to joke with you. Sorry, man.”

Eddie lifted one side of his mouth in a dull grin. “S’kay.”

“Well,” Steve said, flicking the rest of his cigarette. “Just be yourself. Maybe keep the nerdy talk to a minimum, and you’re golden.” He turned to leave, and stopped. “Oh! And Robin’s back in town, if you didn’t hear. She’ll be there tonight too, serving as the fifth wheel, so at least you won’t be the most awkward one there. Come to think of it, I think it’s her friend who’ll be your date.”

“Sounds promising.”

“See ya at 6!” Steve said as he opened the door and fell into place behind the wheel, beaming pure sunshine up at Eddie.

“Yeah, bye.”

Going back inside the garage, it took a second for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, and his first inclination was to look over at you behind your desk, totally filling out the paperwork in front of you, regardless if you were holding a pen or not.

Many thoughts crossed his mind upon watching you open random drawers, and shuffle papers to appear busy. Rationally, he should’ve jumped at the chance for Steve’s offer. A night out with someone without the looming responsibility of adulthood sounded like heaven.. But there was a knot in his stomach telling him to reject the date–not because he couldn’t be bothered, like Steve assumed, but because he pictured someone specific the instant he spoke the arrangement into existence.

The jaded, pessimistic part of him argued it shouldn’t matter what you thought about his love life. You two were hardly friends, and you were a drifter in search of your next big adventure. This small town wasn’t your home. You’d move on. And he should too.

He opened the glass door, and you feigned like you hadn’t been staring at him and Steve attempting to read their lips for the past few minutes. “Hey, I’ve got somewhere to be later, so I’ll actually be leaving on time today.”

“Oh, good!” you said. “Me too.”

Eyeing your thumbs up, he snorted and shook his head.

Yeah, he should move on before this feeling in his chest evolved into something bigger.

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