#dark season 1 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chaptersleftunwritten · 4 months ago

Text

Mine, All Mine

Blurb: Eddie has been infatuated with you from the moment he first laid his eyes on you and he is determined to make you his.

Pairing: Stalker!Eddie Dark!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dark!Eddie, mature/dark themes, stalking, manipulation, attempted kidnapping, 18+.

divider by @cafekitsune

The first phone call arrived mid spring. A shrill ring tearing your nerves to pieces at around 2 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. You awoke with cold sweat beading on your forehead, your mind still hazy with sleep as you reached over, leaving the warm comfort of your soft duvet and grabbed your phone from its receiver.

“Hello?” Your lips barely part for the words as they are mumbled from your mouth. Your eyes stinging with fatigue as you try to pry your lids open. You are met by what you thought was silence, and instead of overthinking it, you hang up. Returning back to your lulled state of slumber.

However, little did you know that it was just the beginning of a long array of phone calls. They all arrived at the same time most nights. Your body began to expect the phone to ring but your heart would jump every time, startled by the sudden noise from beside your bed.

“Who is this?” You’d cry, rightfully terrified into the speaker. It had taken weeks for you to even register the laboured breathing coming from the other side of the line. Deep, staggered breaths penetrating your ears like knives, “What do you want from me?!” Your terror turned to anger- you just wanted a full night of rest. You even contemplated ripping the landline from the wall and stomping on the plastic until it was mere shards entangled in the fibres of the carpeted floor- but you never did, because part of you was morbidly curious as to who was calling... and why.

Every time you'd answer the phone you'd hope to hear a voice. Something new that could lead you to who this was but all you got was the eerie breathing. Why did they keep calling your house, were they from your town, your neighbourhood- did they go to Hawkin's High? You were clueless. No one had ever shown this much interest in you before now... before these late night calls.

You knew this much- the person on the other side of the line didn't enjoy when you got too heated with them. They hated to hear you yell or cry and so they would hang up immediately every time that you did. It was more frustrating than anything else- you were plagued with horrendous thoughts- was this just innocent? Or were you in danger?

At lunch time the majority of the students gathered in the canteen to enjoy their meals whilst you and Chrissy Cunningham lounged outside on the large dusty red concrete staircase which led to the schools main entrance and reception. The sun split the newly blossoming trees with veiled dispersed light causing a welcomed warmth to drown your skin.

"That is seriously messed up!" Chrissy's shriek brings you back from your hazy daydream and you blink at her mindlessly, nodding your head in agreement, "Have you told anyone else?" She questions, her hands taking yours. You and Chrissy sat on different ends of the popularity scale, however despite all of your differences you had remained close since you were children. Today was the rare occasion where you both got to catch up whilst none of her cheer friends 'minions' were around to give you icy glares and hurtfully snicker at your appearance beneath their breaths.

Your head gently sways from side to side, "No, just you. I don't want this to become a big thing, Chris." your grip tightens around her hands that are slotted with your own, "Keep this between us, yeah?" Your eyes are pleading with her more than your voice ever could and Chrissy nods her head, flashing you one of her sweetest Chrissy smiles.

"Of course. Scouts honour!” She throws her hand over her heart jokingly and you have no other choice than to take her word for it. She has been good at keeping secrets in the past- so you trust that she will, for your sake.

Unbeknown to you, Chrissy was not the only pair of ears listening in on your confessions that day. Lingering on the opposite side of the staircase smoking a cigarette against the brick wall, hidden by the shade, was no other than Eddie 'the freak' Munson. The orange glowing cherry bud at the end of the cigarette illuminated and contoured his face in a hellish haze.

When Eddie had heard your displeasure of the phone calls he decided it would be best to take a break from dialling your number so frequently- especially if you were now telling people. He couldn’t risk having his little secret getting out.. his obsession with you coming to light.

What would you say? Would you confront him? Hell, the sheer thought of it made him both frightened and enthralled. To have you talk to him- even if you were screaming at him- would be an absolute pleasure.

Eddie isn’t quite sure why this fixation with you started, but when it did it was like a match that was struck to a canister of petrol. He remembers even the smallest of details about you: Like, how one day at school he had noticed a small smudge of mascara on your eyelid and he pictured you getting ready in your bathroom mirror just for him. He also thinks about your favourite go-to sweater and how it has a stain on the right cuff from you painting both at home and in art class. Over the course of his phone calls he had managed to engrave your soft sleepy mumbles and moans deep into his memory. You were all he thought about- not even Dungeon’s and Dragon’s could distract him from that fact.

When the phone calls became unsatisfactory, Eddie took to standing outside of your house. He would come after nightfall and he would watch you from across the street, a black hood pulled over his luscious long locks. He knew that if you clocked his hair style that you would know it was him instantly… he couldn’t chance that. He loved to watch your eyes slit with confusion as you buried your head in frustration into some mathematics homework or how you would prance and dance free spirited around your room to some Kate Bush songs that would play from your stereo. He wish he could afford a camera so he could keep these sights of you forever, but he had to settle for his memory for the meantime.

With each passing night it was as if Eddie got closer and closer to your house until eventually his face was mere inches away from the glass of your bedroom window, so close his breath would appear on the window pain. You always made the mistake of leaving your curtains open, blaming it on how you loved how the ‘natural light’ awoke you in the mornings- Eddie would counter that you’d leave them open for him. He liked the idea of you knowing that he was there, and allowing him to stay and observe you.

Eddie never saw a problem with what he was doing. He would never hurt you and his intentions weren’t to frighten you… he just wanted to feel closer to you. He wanted to know you. At some point along the course of these visits Eddie became somewhat- braver. He’d notice a window open and he would climb inside, careful to not disturb his sleeping beauty in the nearby room. He felt like a knight climbing the cursed tower in which his princess was held captive in. He would sweep the house for trinkets and memorabilia that he could steal to tide him over to the following night; these often came in the form of loose pairs of underwear you had left laying around or a used bar of soap from your bathroom. Nothing too big that you might notice is gone.

It was innocent… in the beginning. Until the need to have you all to himself escalated to Eddie clearing out the back of his van. He kitted the vehicle out with duvets and pillows and blankets- but also with duct tape and handcuffs. He felt out of control. He needed you all to himself, you were too good for this horrible world. Someone might hurt you, or worse, take you away from him. He had to do something, right? To protect you.

No one would suspect you were with him at his trailer. All of his neighbours kept themselves to themselves and there’s no way they’d ever call the police considering most of them were also drug dealers. He could keep you safe. He could love you more than anyone ever had- you’d never feel alone with him, he would take care of you.

Your bedroom is cold as cool air sweeps through from your open window, blowing your red sheer curtains with each gentle gust. The temperatures were creeping up in Hawkin’s, meaning a lot more of your windows were left open all night long. You’d never think anything of it as you’d switch your bedside lamp off for the night, slotting yourself comfortably into your duvet cover as you waited for sleep to succumb you to darkness.

But tonight something felt wrong… something deep within your chest trying to warn you of nearby danger. You had never thought twice about the safety of your community- but tonight felt off. Something was different. Your movements are sudden as you slowly creep toward your window, peering out from behind the curtains into the abyss of your garden.

You gasp, your stomach hitting the floor at the sight of your own reflection blinking back at you in the glass. You had almost dropped to the floor at the sight of yourself but thankfully it gave you just cause to breathe a small aspirated laugh at how ‘paranoid’ you were being over nothing.

Or so you thought.

Your skin pricks with goosebumps as your body temperature drops to what feels like below freezing. Each and every one of your delicate hairs standing on end as you had turned around and your eyes fell onto shadows dancing beneath your bedroom door- someone was in your house on the other side of it and it looked to you that their next pit stop was your room.

You feel as though your bare feet have weights attached to them as you attempt to quietly move over to your bedside table, switching on the light in hopes that it’ll drive the intruder to flee. But it doesn’t. Your heavy heart is pounding in your ears and it’s making every thought inside of your brain inaudible.

“I’m calling the police!” Your yell is half hearted and Eddie can tell that you’re afraid. He decides in that moment that tonight is all or nothing and he shakes the door handle to your bedroom, pushing the door open his warm eyes fall on your stiff frame. You are flush against the wall, your hand is trembling as you hold the phone to your chest- clearly you have been unable to dial a number yet, “Eddie?” Your voice quakes and Eddie ventures further into the room, his hands splayed out in front of him to try and reassure you that he means you no harm.

You and Eddie weren’t close in any way, shape or form. But to see him in your bedroom- it didn’t unsettle you in quite the way you expected. You knew who he was, everybody did. He just wasn’t popular in the way that Chrissy or Billy was… he was the Hellfire Club master. He was the freak of the lunch hall and the King of the weirdos. You never saw him in that light, though. You secretly admired him. He was so unapologetically himself, he was so outward and fun and you actually wanted to get to know him better. You were just never brave enough, the only time you had spoken to him was art class where you had asked him if you could borrow one of his paintbrushes- and without hesitation he let you. He would give you anything you’d ask for.

You had developed a minor crush on Eddie and you had gone so long without even realising it. He was definitely your type: Dark eyes, dark hair with the bonus of it being long, his style was so unique and intriguing and the cherry on top? He had tattoos. The black ink against his pale skin made your stomach flutter and your teeth to chew on the inside of your cheek. Whenever you’d see his forearms you’d have to force yourself not to stare at him for too long in fear of being caught.

You’d dote on his remarkable talent with charcoal and how unafraid he was to embrace the true darkness and messiness of the artistic medium. Sometimes when you would see his finished portraits you could almost swear they resembled you in an abstract way.

“Hey, sweetie… let’s put the phone down, yeah?” His voice is so calm and kind and his steps are tedious as he slowly makes his way toward you but you don’t budge. Your head shaking ‘no’ as you try and keep the distance between you both.

“Stay ba..back!!” You warn, your finger finding the dial of the phone, “What are you doing here, Munson?” Your usual sugary sweet tone has been replaced with malice and Eddie’s lips twist into a frown. He can’t understand why his baby angel is reacting this way- it’s not like he’s hurting you.

“Put the phone down.” He asks again, his voice sterner this time as he pushes his hood down from his head to his shoulders, exposing himself fully to your gaze, “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He holds out his pinky to you, in a form of a promise and it causes your heart to swell in your chest. You study his expression for any sort of faux honesty, for any twitch of anger or evil but you ultimately decide that Eddie isn’t a threat to you. At least not for now…

Returning the phone back to the receiver you hook your pinky cautiously with Eddie’s and you watch as a smile contorts his lips. Eddie’s mind buzzes with excitement at the small form of intimacy and his chest tenses with impatience. He needs to act now if he wants this to happen.

Eddie was here to take you with him. His van is parked a couple of houses down from yours to avoid suspicion… but as his eyes find yours he can feel a battle brewing within himself. Maybe this is a bad idea? Maybe there is another way for him to get close to you that doesn’t involve you hating his guts for the rest of your lives together?

“What are you doing here?” You ask again, your voice is softer now and Eddie widens the gap between the both of you. He stretches out his fingers before tensing them into fists and shoving them into his jacket pockets. He doesn’t trust himself around you, not when you are both so secluded from the rest of the world, “Eddie?”

It takes everything in him- his blood, his bones, his sweat, his fucking soul- for him to not follow through on his plans for the night.

“I heard someone was bothering you.” You perk an eyebrow at him, wary of how he retained this information, “I heard you talking to Cunningham last week. I wanted to check up on you, I guess.” His shoulders shrug and he winces at how nonchalant he is being. He wants nothing more than for you to know how much he cares for you. He wants to collapse at your feet and worship the ground you walk on- but instead he is forced to play pretend. To act like he doesn’t give a fuck when he does. He really does.

But when your features soften and a smile finds your cheeks Eddie decides that all this pretending is worth the reward. If it means you’ll look at him like that- he’ll never stop playing pretend, “That’s really kind of you, Eddie…” You come toward him, your arms flying around his shoulders as you embrace him in a tight hug, “Thank you.” Your words are spoke into the curvature of his neck and his rigid body is quick to mould into yours.

His strong arms are wrapped around you tightly and part of you thinks that you should feel uncomfortable- but you don’t. You hope that the embrace will last forever. Yours and Eddie’s connection feels like one that should have happened a long time ago and you hate that it hasn’t until now.

As innocent as the hug seems to you, it has Eddie’s dark thoughts swirling- they are demanding action from him and Eddie can feel adrenaline picking up the pace of his beating heart. His eyes flutter open and he catches sight of you both in your vanity mirror. Your small frame engulfed by his shadowy image makes his teeth come down hard onto his pillowy bottom lip. The picture alters his brain chemistry beyond comprehension and it doesn’t even take him a second to decide…

“I’m so sorry.” The whisper is sinister as it echos in your ear canal and it makes your eyes ping wide open. Eddie’s grip around you tightens to almost suffocating, like an anaconda snake squeezing its prey to death. Your mind starts to spiral out of control with fear. You don’t scream- for some reason you can’t, your throat won’t let you.. but you do fight against him as he lifts you from the ground, securing you there on his shoulder as he begins to walk out of your bedroom.

You claw at his back, your fingers coming to grip the solid wood of the doorframe as you cling onto it for dear life- but Eddie is stronger than you are and he rips your fingertips away from the only leverage you had. You watch helplessly as the light of your bedroom fades out of your line of vision and you are abducted to the blackened world outside.

Prisoner to Eddie Munson.

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000

320 notes · View notes