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ambrossart · 2 years ago

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Bad Omens

summary: after experiencing the most unlucky morning of his life, eddie is convinced that doom is on the horizon. all his friends think he's just being paranoid, but then jeff receives an unexpected request from you, eddie's little harbinger of misfortune.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 4,633 warnings: middle school, young!eddie, insecure!eddie, language, bullying, teasing, secret crushes, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series

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It was a dull, dreary, rainy morning for all the students hanging out in the Hawkins Middle School cafeteria. They sat in small, quiet clusters around the room, eating, talking, scrambling to finish last night’s homework. Jeff was part of the latter group, and like everyone else, he was having a hard time staying awake.

While the rain pattered softly against the window, he sat slumped over the table with his chin on his wrist, struggling to resist sleep’s sweet siren song. His social studies book lay in front of him, open to his current reading assignment: something about the Incas or the Mayans (Jeff couldn’t keep them straight and, this late in the school year, he didn’t have the motivation to care). He kept reading the same sentence over and over, but the words always got lost in the fog of his thoughts. His eyes, listless and heavy-lidded, blurred with tears every time he—

Another yawn snuck up on him, threatening to split his mouth wide open. Jeff raised his head and surrendered to it, let it wash over him and then drift away, leaving little pools of moisture in the corners of his tired eyes. He wiped them away with his sleeve, put his chin down, and went back to reading.

“Dude, you gotta stop yawning,” Grant said. Then he let out a big yawn of his own.

He was slicing through the school’s frozen waffles with a fork. Inside the other compartments of his tray were two greasy sausage links, a cup of assorted fruit, and two cartons of milk. Grant always bought an extra milk because one was never enough.

“They’re too small,” he would say. “You finish one before you’re even halfway done with your food.”

“Boy, this is riveting stuff,” Scottie would answer. “Now, Grant, how ‘bout you share with us your thoughts on the basic four food groups? For instance, should fruits and vegetables really be grouped together?”

Then someone, usually Eddie, would tell Scottie to shut up, and that would be the end of it.

“God, these are awful,” Grant was saying now, while he stuffed a waffle square into his mouth and forced himself to chew. “Just look at ‘em. Pale, lifeless, cold in the middle. It’s like they have no pride in their product.”

“And yet you keep eating it,” Scottie said while he doodled in his notebook. “See, Grant? You’re part of the problem.”

“I have to,” Grant answered with a shrug. “You know I can’t go to class on an empty stomach. When I get hungry, my stomach growls really, really loud, and I’ve got a test coming up. Can you imagine what it’ll sound like in a room that quiet? Everyone will hear it and they’ll know it came from me. I can’t handle that kinda stress.”

Scottie’s doodling hand slowed. He stared at Grant with bored, blinking eyes.

Then he said, “I keep going back to the tombs. I feel like the tombs are crucial.”

Jeff lifted his chin off his wrist. “What?”

“He’s talking about his campaign.”

“Oh.”

Shocker. Scottie was always talking about his campaign.

“I still haven’t come up with a name for it,” Scottie said. “So far, I’ve got Into the Delves, The Delves of Dunmar, The Delves of Dunland, Digging in the Delves, Digging in the Dark Delves…”

“Why are you so stuck on ‘delves’?” Jeff asked.

“I dunno, I just like the way it sounds.”

“Yeah, but I thought it was about a tomb.”

“Well, what’s a delve?”

“It’s not a tomb! A delve is like a cave or something.”

“A hollow,” said Grant, “or a pit… a grotto.”

“It’s also a verb, which means ‘to dig,’ which would make half those titles kinda redundant.”

Scottie’s shoulder sank. “Well, shit,” he said. “Now I’m back to square one.”

He tore out the page and crumpled it up.

“Hey, where’s Munson? He usually comes in hot with all kinds of weird ideas. They’re usually shit, but sometimes there’s a little diamond hiding in there, and I pluck it out and shine it up real pretty until it glows into a sparkling, wonderful idea.”

Jeff cracked a smirk. “You’re like Rumpelstiltskin spinning straw into gold.”

Scottie squinted at him. “Rumple who?”

“Rumpelstiltskin. It’s a German fairytale. Sorry, my lab partner got her hands on a book of Grimm fairytales and now she’s like Mother Goose. She brings them to class and reads me her favorite ones. Except these aren’t nice, happy fairytales. These are like weird and creepy. Like in one, this girl gets kidnapped by a rabbit or something and is forced to marry him.”

“Oh, ‘The Hare’s Bride,’” said Grant. “That’s a good one.”

“You know it?”

“I know a lot of things I shouldn’t.”

Scottie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Grant, you’re just a well of knowledge. A giant, giant well.”

Grant ignored him and went on talking: “I thought she was into Lovecraft.”

“No, that was last month, thank God. I’m so glad that phase is over. Those stories are the stuff of nightmares.”

“Speaking of nightmares,” Scottie said. “Did anyone else get a weird call from Gareth last night?”

Jeff and Grant shook their heads.

“Well, he called me at like eleven o’clock ranting about the Antichrist and the end of the world. It took me a while to decipher what he was actually saying, but I guess he was watching The Omen last night, and a bird flew into his window and broke its neck, so naturally he started freaking out, like Gareth always does, and the whole time I was thinking, Dude, this why your mommy doesn’t let you watch horror movies. The kid just can’t handle ‘em.”

“Weird,” Grant said. Then he perked up and said, “Hey, here comes Eddie!”

Their friend had come gusting in from the rain and was now trudging through the cafeteria, stomping muddy shoeprints all over the tile. He had yet to draw back the hood of his black sweatshirt, which to the rest of the students, gave him a striking (and amusing) resemblance to the Grim Reaper. Some of them snickered as he passed. One girl cupped her hand over her mouth and said to her friend, “Go back to the graveyard, Eddie Munster,” and the girls tittered hysterically while clinging to each other. Eddie pretended like he couldn’t hear them, but he could. He always could.

He threw his backpack to the floor, ripped off his hood, and slammed both his hands onto the table.

“Guys, something horrible’s about to happen.”

“Yes!” Scottie said, pumping his fists excitedly. “Let’s fucking go! You’re all worked up. You’ve got that crazy intensity in your eyes. This is gonna be just what I need. Hold on, lemme get a new page ready. Make sure my pen has plenty of ink.” He scribbled with his pen, gave a satisfied nod, and settled back into his seat. “All right, gimme some straw, Rumpleskillskin.”

A deep crease formed between Eddie’s brows. “What’s he talking about?”

“Just ignore him,” Jeff said. He closed his social studies book and gave Eddie his full attention. “What happened, man?”

Eddie pulled out a chair, sat down, and dragged his fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, so last night I woke up with this horrible and just uneasy feeling, y’know? It was like this massive weight was just sitting on top of my chest. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. It was fucking terrifying.”

“What, you mean like sleep paralysis?” Scottie said. “Was a demon sitting on your chest, like in that…? Wait, what’s that painting again?”

“The Nightmare,” Grant said.

Scottie snapped his fingers at him. “Yes, thank you! ‘The Nightmare.’ Is that what you had, Munson? Did you have a little nighttime visitor? Did it whisper to you in the dark? Did it tell you secrets about the afterlife? Or maybe, you know, give you ideas for my campaign?”

“Oh, would you stop?” Jeff said to him, and Scottie threw up his hands, as if to say, What? I’m desperate!

“Keep going, Eddie. You woke up with a really bad feeling. What happened after that?”

“Okay, so while I was laying there, I thought back to what Gareth said earlier. Did you guys know a bird flew into his window last night?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Scottie threw down his pen in frustration. “That’s what this is about? The fucking Omen? Eddie, relax, the Antichrist isn’t coming, okay? You and Gareth just have overactive imaginations and like to drive each other crazy with your paranoia. You guys need to go outside and get some fresh air every once in a while.”

“What?” Eddie said. “I’m not talking about the Antichrist! Look, something bad’s gonna happen, you guys. I can feel it. And right now I’m having the worst day of my life. My alarm didn’t go off this morning, so I was running really fucking late. The roof started leaking from all the rain, and everything on my desk got drenched. My books. My homework. Everything. It’s all just ruined, so I dunno what I’m gonna do about that. Then the chain came off my bike while I was riding to school, and I crashed face-first into a puddle of muddy water. It was disgusting and I think I swallowed some of it. I had to walk my bike the rest of the way, and who did I see as soon as I got to school? Her. Because, of course, I would see her on the worst morning of my life. I see her every other morning, why would today be any different? She was just sitting on the steps with a book on her lap. I swear, it was like she was waiting for me or something. She smiled that smile and giggled that giggle, and she said, ‘Rough day, huh, Mudson?’”

Scottie stifled a laugh. “She called you ‘Mudson’? Okay, that’s actually kinda clever.”

“It’s not clever,” Eddie said. “It’s not funny. It’s not cute. Y’know Gareth’s all worried about the Antichrist, but… as far as I’m concerned, the Antichrist is already here, and her name is—”

“She’s not the Antichrist,” Jeff said. “Now you’re just being overdramatic.”

“Yeah, well, her giggle signals doom, so…”

Scottie said, “What, is she like a banshee or something?” and his eyes lit up. “Oh, a banshee, I like that. A banshee wailing in the dark. Shrieking… shrieking… Yes, I’m starting to feel it now. There’s definitely something there.”

He put his pen to the paper and tuned everyone else out. Meanwhile, Jeff leaned back in his chair and gave a solemn nod.

“Okay, Eddie, you had a bad morning, I’ll give you that, but that’s all it was, man. A bad morning. It doesn’t mean something horrible’s about to happen to you.”

“Yeah,” Grant said. “I mean, there’s a logical explanation for most of that stuff. Like your alarm not going off? You probably lost power at some point last night. The leak in your roof? Well, dude, you live in an old trailer and it was raining pretty hard last night. Leaks like that are bound to happen. It sucks, but it’s really not that weird. And chains come off bikes all the time. Same thing happened to me last month. As for your little doom-giggler, well… that girl’s always giggling at you.”

“Exactly,” Scottie said as he put down his pen. “She’s just your little heckler, Munson. Just a sweet little sixth-grader that likes to watch you squirm. God, I’d love to meet this girl. I wanna go up to her and shake her hand and thank her for giving me so much entertainment this year. I’m really gonna miss her.”

“Shut up,” Eddie said. He leaned onto his forearms and went quiet, simmering in his thoughts.

“Feel better?” Grant asked after a minute.

“No.”

“Well, have a fruit cup.”

Grant plucked his cup off his tray and set it down in front of him.

“Thanks,” Eddie said, and Jeff clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, relax, man. Try to look on the bright side. School’s almost out, summer vacation’s coming up, and we’ve got three months of D&D to look forward to. Scottie says this campaign’s gonna be the best one yet.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie muttered. He stuck his fingers into the cup and felt something wet slap the top of his hand.

It was an orange wedge.

“What the fuck?”

He drew back just as a second wedge came skipping across the table. It landed beside Grant’s breakfast tray. Then a third bounced off the side of Jeff’s head—“Ow!”—and plopped onto Scottie’s notebook.

“What, is it raining oranges now?” Scottie made a sickened face and flicked it away. “Is this part of your apocalypse, Eddie?”

“No, I dunno what this is.” Eddie turned his head and—“God dammit!”

Andy Hauffman and Clay Howard were sitting a few tables over and throwing orange wedges at them. Andy said, “Thought you could use some vitamin C, Munster!” and fired another one. It clipped Eddie on the shoulder and left a wet mark on his sweater.

Jeff ducked down and said, “Wait, why do they think Eddie needs vitamin C?”

Scottie shrugged. “Because they wanna boost his immune system?”

Grant sighed. An orange landed on his thigh. “They mean vitamin D.”

“Oh,” Scottie said. “See, that makes more sense, because Eddie’s so pale and hates the sun.”

“I don’t hate the sun!” Eddie said, and winced as the next wedge gave him a big kiss on the cheek. He wiped the wetness away with his hand while Clay gave Andy a high five and said, “Nice one, dude!”

Eddie turned around and glared at them. Clay just laughed and chucked another one. Eddie swung his hand at it, missed, and got hit anyway. After that, he finally gave up and put his head down on the table. “I fucking hate this school.”

“Dude, just ignore them,” Scottie said. “They’re idiots, man. They can’t even insult you properly. Besides, you should consider yourself lucky they only throw fruit at you. Last week, they depantsed me and shoved me into the girls’ locker room. I’ve never heard so many girls laugh in my life. They’d never do that to you, though, ‘cause they’re too scared you might bring a knife to school and stab them.”

A stunned silence consumed the table. Jeff had his hand pressed to his forehead. Grant froze in mid-drink. An orange wedge struck his cheek and made it jiggle.

“Hey—” Jeff began in a low voice.

Eddie pushed himself to his feet, yanked his backpack off the floor, and stormed out of the cafeteria.

“Oh, come on, Munson,” Scottie said as he went by. “It’s funny ‘cause your dad’s in prison! Everyone thinks you’re gonna shank someone. Oh god, there he goes again… off to find a dark corner to brood in… Poor, Eddie, nobody understands you, waah, waah, waah.”

“Dude,” Jeff said. “Enough.”

“What?” Scottie said. “I’m just trying to toughen the guy up a little. If he thinks middle school’s bad, high school’s gonna be a nightmare for him. What, does he think people are suddenly gonna stop thinking he’s trailer trash? I had a stutter when I was six and they still call me ‘Suh-Suh-Sloman.’ Kids suck. They’re always gonna suck. He needs to accept that and move on.”

Scottie picked up his pen, put it back to the paper, and sighed.

“I went too far, didn’t I? Oh shit… I’ll make it up to him later.”

Grant finished his breakfast in silence. Jeff opened his textbook and returned to his reading assignment.

“You know what, though,” Scottie said after a while, “I kinda know what he’s talking about. There’s something in the air today. I dunno how to describe it. It’s like electric or something. I can feel it pulsing through my veins. Yeah, I think something really exciting’s about to happen, you guys.”

Jeff hadn’t given much thought to what Scottie had said, not until he sat down in his fourth-period science class.

It was the strangest thing. As soon as his back pressed against the cold metal chair, a tingle ran up his spine and made all the little hairs on his arm stand on end. Electric, he thought, and immediately shoved the thought away. Come on, get ahold of yourself, Jeff. He wasn’t about to get all worked up over some silly superstition.

At eleven-o-one, the door swung open and you walked into the science lab, your nose wrinkling instantly from the sharp lemon scent of disinfectant.

Oh good, Jeff thought. A weird, whimsical story from you was sure to mend his frayed nerves. All right, Mother Goose, what creepy tale do you have for me today?

You slid into the chair beside him, laid all your materials on the table, and said… nothing, absolutely nothing. This morning, you were oddly quiet. Disturbingly quiet. Instead of gushing about your latest obsession, you were staring at the empty chalkboard and tugging at your sweater sleeve. This made Jeff a little anxious.

“No stories for me today?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Hm? Oh, uhh, no… not today.”

The book of Grimm fairytales lay on top of your notebook, its cover lightly speckled from the rain. How long did you sit out there waiting for him? Jeff wondered. Ten minutes? Twenty? He could almost picture it: you sitting out in the cold, barely sheltered from the rain, huddled over your book, frowning miserably, trying to stay warm, trying to read, stopping every other sentence to look up and see if Eddie had arrived yet. Man, say what you want about her, but you gotta admire the girl’s commitment.

With this in mind, Jeff decided to shift to a different tactic. He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest.

“So… Mudson, huh?”

And just like that, your eyes sparked with life, like two little lightning bolts.

(Electric)

You placed your hand over your mouth and giggled. It was impish yet innocent, and it brought a much-needed smile to Jeff’s face.

“So he mentioned it, huh?” you said, delighted by the thought.

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “Yeah, he definitely did…”

“It just kinda slipped out, you know? He showed up all wet and muddy, and my brain naturally mashed the two words together.” To illustrate this, you smashed your fist into your palm. Then you broke up into giggles again. “Oh my god, you should have seen his face, Jeff. He was so pissed!”

“Yeah, well… Eddie’s not having a very good day.”

Your chest rose with a sharp breath. “Why? What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeff said, but he knew you would anyway.

You fell back against your chair, dejected, and dropped your gaze to the floor. In a small, guilty voice, you said, “It really did slip out.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeff said. “Like I said, don’t worry about it, okay? It’s not because of you.”

The rest of the students came trickling in and class finally began.

Afterwards, while everyone was packing up and getting ready to go to lunch, you turned to Jeff and said, “Hey… uhh, you know that fantasy game you’re always playing?”

“You mean D&D?”

“Yeah, that one,” you said, and suddenly that strange, tingly feeling had returned. It had jumped off the chair and was now crawling up Jeff’s back like a big, hairy spider. He looked at you and wondered if you felt it, too.

(Or maybe he was just losing his mind. Or having a stroke.)

Jeff rolled his shoulders a few times, trying to rid himself of the feeling. Then he snatched his books and quickly headed for the door. You followed him out.

“So, umm, hypothetically speaking, how would one go about joining? Like, is there an interview or an application process? Do you have to sacrifice your firstborn child? What’s the procedure here?”

“Uhh, I dunno,” Jeff said. “Nobody’s ever really wanted to join before. Why? You interested?”

“Kind of… I mean, it may have crossed my mind. You know, you just make it sound so interesting when you talk about it.”

“Oh,” Jeff replied with a sly smile, “so I’ve piqued your interest, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Jeff nodded, still smiling. “And this has nothing to do with your massive crush on Eddie?”

“No…” You paused, fell a few steps behind, and ran to catch up with him. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, not to Eddie. He thinks you hate him.”

You cringed. “Yeah, we kinda got off on the wrong foot…”

“Yeah, you got off on the wrong foot and just kept on walking, didn’t you?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! School really brings out the worst in me, you know? I can’t relax. I feel like I always have to be on the defensive. Middle school is basically hell on earth, and I’ve had to develop some really sharp edges in order to survive this place. Sometimes I cut people without meaning to. And he’s just so sensitive, Jeff. Every little comment sets him off.”

“Yeah, well, that’s Eddie for you…”

“A tragedy is what it is. He has all this potential, but he’s just wasting it! Right now he’s Bruce Banner, but he could be the Incredible Hulk if he wanted to.”

Bruce Banner? The Incredible Hulk? Boy, Jeff was really starting to regret lending you his old comic books.

“Look, Eddie doesn’t wanna be the Incredible Hulk, okay? He wants to be Bruce Banner. He just wants to blend in and be left alone.”

“Well… too bad! I want him to be the Incredible Hulk. And don’t pretend like you don’t agree with me, Jeff. Eddie would be so much happier if he would just stop worrying about what everyone else thinks. He can do it when he’s playing guitar on stage. Why can’t he do it at school?”

“Because Eddie’s a very complicated person.”

“I know. He’s fascinating.” You hugged your books close to your chest and let out a dreamy sigh. “I just don’t understand why he tries so hard to pretend he’s boring and normal. His crazy side’s way more entertaining. I’ve seen glimpses of it when he thinks nobody’s paying attention. Oh my god, Jeff, he’s such a little weirdo! He gets all dorky and hyper, but then he notices me watching him and, you know, runs away. It’s such a bummer. Like, stop teasing me with the trailers, Munson, just gimme the full show! It’s like he’s got a little monster hiding inside him, and I just wanna rip it out and unleash it on the whole town!”

Jeff put his hand up to stop you. “Okay, don’t ever say that to him. Ever. Trust me, the last thing Eddie wants to hear is that you think he’s got a monster inside him.”

You both turned at the end of the hallway. Jeff’s shoulder accidentally bumped against yours and he drew back suddenly, with a jerk. There it was again, that spine-tingling, unnerving feeling. Except this time it wasn’t in the air. It wasn’t clinging to his chair. This time it was radiating off you like some invisible force field. When Jeff touched your shoulder, he felt it surge through his whole body like a shock of static electricity.

“Oh my god,” he said, “you’re Eddie’s bad feeling!”

You scrunched up your face. “What?”

Jeff gave his back to you and broke into a near-jog. You chased after him, calling his name.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you, okay?” Jeff ripped open his locker and dumped everything inside. When he closed the door, you were standing on the other side, staring at him with confusion. “I mean, what do you think’s gonna happen, anyway? You think Eddie’s gonna wanna date you or something? Because I can tell you right now that’s never gonna happen.”

A silent gasp escaped Jeff’s lips. You stared at him with a startled, wounded expression.

“Oh, damn it,” he said, and knocked his head against his locker door. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“Whatever.” You sniffed loudly and wiped your runny nose on the back of your hand. “I mean, you’re probably right, anyway. It’s not like I’m blind or stupid, Jeff. I know I’m not exactly the prettiest girl in school.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know what you meant,” you said, and wiped your nose again. “Eddie’s fourteen and next year he’s going to high school. He’s not gonna be interested in dating some twelve-year-old, not even if she was a lot prettier than me. I know that. I’m not delusional or anything. I’ve already accepted that my parents had sex two years too late, okay? I’m not quite tall enough to ride that rollercoaster. That’s why I need some time to… well, you know…”

“Get taller?” Jeff said, cracking a smile.

“Exactly,” you said, and giggled. “Look, I know Eddie doesn’t think very highly of me right now. I bet he thinks I’m really annoying, right?”

“Yeah… he called you the Antichrist this morning.”

“See, that’s… Wait, he called me the Antichrist? Seriously? That’s what he thinks of me? I’m the spawn of Satan?”

“Pretty sure he was just exaggerating.”

“Yeah, that better be some crazy hyperbole ‘cause I dunno how I’m supposed to recover from that.”

You both laughed at that for a minute. Then you squeezed your hands into fists and gave him a pleading look.

“I just need time, Jeff, and right now I don’t have enough. School’s almost over and next year Eddie’s going to high school. He’s gonna be gone for two years while I’m trapped in this purgatory that is middle school. This summer’s my last chance to spend time with him. To make a good impression on him. Show him that I’m not the Antichrist. Holy shit, I still can’t believe he called me the Antichrist! Like, I know he doesn’t think much of me, but that seems a little harsh, doesn’t it?” You gave your head a shake and refocused. “But, hey, that’s okay. I can dig myself out of that hole. It might take me a while, but I’ll get there eventually. And then maybe, like in a few years or so, he’ll start to like me, too… maybe… but I’m not expecting anything. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’s definitely the ideal scenario, but I’ll settle for whatever I can get at this point. Shit, anything’s better than the Antichrist, right?”

You gave a helpless but hopeful shrug. Jeff rubbed the back of his neck, mulling it over.

“You know you’re putting me in a tough spot here.”

“I know.”

“And Eddie’s really not gonna like this.”

“I know.”

Jeff sighed. “Okay,” he said, and your face lit up like the sky on the Fourth of July. “But listen to me: if I do this for you, if I stick my neck out for you, you have to promise to be on your best behavior, okay? You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into here. This isn’t just a game for us, especially not for Eddie. He takes his D&D very seriously. It’s like sacred to him. He’s not gonna like you goofing around.”

“I won’t goof around. I won’t, I won’t.”

You did.

A lot.

Sorry, Eddie, Jeff thought, looks like your nightmare’s about to come true.

He walked into the cafeteria with his tray, found his friends sitting at their usual table, and sat down.

“Guys, I’m calling an emergency party meeting.”

Eddie’s whole body tensed with dread. “Why? What’s going on?”

SERIES MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #fanfic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x dwm!reader #dancing with myself #dwm #dwm mini fic #dwm middle school fic #ambrossart

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