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streamafterlaughter · 9 days ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VIII: Take That For What You Will

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: sudden desire by hayley williams, two beers in by free throw, i don't care if you’re a monster by mat kerekes

summary: the day after your would-be date turns out to be less than awful, somehow.

chapter tags: dream smut, violence, lots and lots of angst, smoking, drinking, swearing yippee! | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

a/n: hey remember that other long fic I was working on? well. it seems I have a pattern of writing bar fights. anyway, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author, and reply/msg to join the tag list!

You writhe underneath him, whimpering when he brings a calloused finger down to meet between your bodies. His thumb circles your clit at an achingly slow pace, forcing you to grind against him where your bodies connect. The noise that leaves your mouth is barely human. He goes deeper, dragging another guttural moan from your throat, and lifts your leg to hook around his hip as he thrust into you again, again, hitting that sweet spot inside of you every time. You move to hide your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent to keep you grounded.

“Uh uh, look at me.” It’s the voice in your ear that sends you reeling backwards, shoving at the figure on top of you. He comes into focus, a wild mane of frizzy curls framing a soft, smiling face with the deepest chocolate eyes. “There she is. My pretty girl.” The words are said between hot breaths fanning your face, pushing you over the edge of bliss and dragging Eddie with you.

–

There is an unyielding pain in your forehead when you jolt awake, hyperventilating as the images of your dream flash before your eyes as you repeat to yourself, “Not real, not real, not real.”. The sunshine is streaming into the bedroom, hitting you directly in the face. It takes far too long for you to bolt upright, realizing you’re back home, in your bed, in your underwear. You vaguely remember someone driving you home, and flopping into bed after peeling your sweaty outfit off. You glance at the pile of clothes on your floor, confirming that theory.

Stretching your limbs, you exit your bedroom, deciding against the effort of getting dressed once you realize you’re in your own home. That confidence is cut short when you hear the same voice you’d heard in your head mere minutes ago.

“Whoa! Mornin’ sunshine!” His voice is gravelly, the effects of last night lingering, and it makes your cheeks hot as he observes you, too frozen to register that you’re not wearing pants.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You scowl, failing to conceal your embarrassment, still too stuck to wrap yourself in the throw just out of reach. “Was too tired to drive home, crashed on the couch. Hope it’s alright. Good to see you upright, though.” He chirps, far too perky for the early hour.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You frown, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, trying to ignore the way he’s staring at you; head tilted, eyes scanning your underdressed form.

“Yeah, sure. Over breakfast.”

“What?” Why in the world would you have breakfast with him?

“Yeah, c’mon. You’re buyin’ too.”

“What the hell, Eddie?!”

–

He drives the pair of you to Benny’s in your car. Another sigh of relief, followed by several more nagging questions.

“Can you at least give me a hint, so I know you didn’t kidnap me?” You ask as the waitress leads you to the booth in the corner. You’re desperate for something to latch onto, something to jog your spotty memory. You start to think maybe you shouldn’t drink anymore, because clearly, you’re not very good at it.

“Look, I’m gonna spare you most of the details. Nothing that horrible happened, I promise. You’d been bookin’ it to the bar every twenty minutes, downing everything you could get your hands on. I stayed to make sure you were okay. Macy was going to Fiona’s anyway.”

“Where’s your van?” You ask between sips of coffee.

“We took the train in, like smart people.”

“What exactly are you insinuating?”

“That people who plan on drinking when they’re out probably shouldn’t drive.” He shrugs, sticking his tongue out at you.

You huff. “Touche.”

He snorts. “Seriously? No clever retort this morning?”

You shake your head, then wince again as the lightning bolts of pain shock your nerves.

“You okay?” His expression softens, but only for a fraction of a second.

“Yeah, just experiencing the consequences of my actions.” You rub your forehead, trying to massage the migraine away.

Eddie juts his finger out at you and says pointedly, “I know just the thing for that.” “Dude, I’m not smoking weed with you.”

He sucks air through his teeth in mock pain, clutching his chest. “It stings every time, sweets. Not that, though. Let me order for you.” You cock an eyebrow at him. “You got allergies?” You shake your head, gently as you can manage.

–

It’s as if you’ve never touched alcohol in your life; like a hangover is just a ghost story told by a camp counselor to keep you from sneaking vodka into the hot cocoa again. The supposed cure? A sausage, egg, cheddar, and homefry sandwich, all of which are squished between two toasted, fluffy bulky rolls slathered in butter.

“Holy shit.” Your mouth is full of salty, greasy goodness when you say this, covering your mouth to lessen the obscenity of your manners. “This is better than–”

“Sex?”

“Let’s not get crazy.” You laugh nervously, the memories of last night’s dream flooding back. You let yourself wonder if it is better than the sex you didn’t have. “I’m assuming this has saved your own life a time or two?” You ask instead, changing the subject.

Eddie nods, stuffing another bite of his own sandwich into his mouth. It’s only when he stops, turning his head to face you and asks, “Like what ya see?” that you realize you've been staring. At Eddie. For far longer than is normal for you. You clear your throat, darting your eyes, wrongfully, to where his hand is on the table, splayed out, giving you a clear view of the rings adorning his thick fingers.

“So,” Eddie breaks the silence, not uncomfortably, “You’re goin’ to the show, right?”

You blink, the spell broken when your eyes meet his again. “Be a bit more specific.”

“Chappell, on Friday?”

“Yeah… are you?” Eddie did not strike you as a Chappell Roan fan.

“Well, yeah. Macy’s opening. She said that if it went well, this would be huge for the band. I’m happy for her.” Contrary to his words, his tone does not sound anywhere near happy. You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“Nothing, just realized you’re a really bad liar.”

He lets out a loud, curt laugh. “Wow, okay. I dunno, I think we’re probably gonna break up. No big.”

“Oh.” You don’t know what to say, you’ve never had Eddie be vulnerable with you. “I’m sorry, man. That sucks.”

He shrugs. “I like her, but I don’t know if it’s enough to do long distance. I’m a physical lover after all.”

You gulp at the words, feeling your body temperature quickly rise as your dream comes hurtling back. You’re about to excuse yourself to the bathroom when your waitress returns, placing the check in front of Eddie with a wink. You look from her to where Eddie sits across from you, eyes scanning the bill when a smile develops on his stupid, stupid face. He flips the sheet to show you what he’s beaming at: The waitress’s phone number. Obviously. Her name, Emily, written in purple pen, the ‘i’ dotted with an obnoxiously large heart.

“That’s kinda fucked up, if you think about it.” You muse, plucking the check out of his hand. “What if I was your girlfriend?”

“Sweets, that’s Emily Gardner. She was in our class, and graduated with you. She used to call me Eddie Manson. Her and her cronies poured pig’s blood in my locker on prom night.”

You didn’t know any of this. Hawkins High had been a small school, but you had separated yourself from Eddie by your first senior year, his second. Luckily you hadn’t had to switch any classes around to avoid him, but you’d always eat lunch in the library just in case it was a day where he’d decide to draw attention.

“So…?”

“So, now she wants me to call her. She has the fuckin’ balls to give me her phone number like I’d want anything to do with her.”

You roll your eyes, knowing better. “So, you’re gonna call her.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, probably. I’m only human.”

You shake your head. “One day this is gonna bite you in the ass.”

“Ooh, kinky.” He gives you a cocky grin, and you scrunch your face up in disgust as you slap your debit card on the table.

“I was joking, by the way. You don’t have to pay.”

You shake your head, snatching the check out of his hand. “Consider it payment for whatever shit I put you through last night. Now we’re even.”

He backs off, raising his hands in surrender, and Emily comes back for the bill. You swear one more button has popped open on her blouse, and Eddie seems to notice it too. You groan inwardly at the display, rubbing your temples to ward off the second wave of aching in your head.

–

“A sex dream?!” Robin squeals as she jumps beside you onto the couch, crossing her legs and turning her body towards you, like a second grader ready for circle time. “Tell me everything!” Steve’s at work, and Robin had originally invited you over to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer for the seventh time, but you had to get your dream off your chest to someone.

“Who was it? Was it Steve? Was it me?! It was me, wasn't it? I’m flattered, Bee, but I don’t wanna ruin our friendship.” She pouts at you mockingly, and you backhand her shoulder.

“No, my darling, it wasn’t you, and it definitely wasn’t Steve.” You can feel your cheeks warm as you speak, dreading to tell her.

“Okay, then who? Don’t leave me hangin’, I’ll guess everyone in our graduating class right now!”

You mumble his name under your breath, unable to meet her curious gaze.

“Sorry, I didn't quite catch that.” She leans in closer, cupping her ear with her hand.

“Eddie! God, I was fucking Eddie, okay?! Actually, he was fucking me. And it was hot, Rob.” You whine, ashamed of your subconscious for putting these images in your head, causing you to wonder what sex with him actually would be like. You squeeze your legs together despite yourself.

“Oh my fucking god. Bee!” Robin’s mouth drops open at your admission, and you clamp it shut for her.

“We do not speak a word of this, to Steve or to anyone, understood?”

She salutes you, sitting up straighter. “Aye, aye. What do you think it means?”

You shrug. You want to tell her it means nothing, but Robin wouldn’t believe you for a second. Before you can answer her, she’s typing something into her phone. “What are you doing?”

“I’m googling what it means to have a sex dream about your arch nemesis.” You laugh, but she isn’t joking. She pokes the search button, and scrolls through the links to Cosmo articles explaining what different types of sex dreams could mean.

“Find anything useful?” You half joke, but part of you kind of wants to know the answer.

“Hm. It says here that when you dream of someone, it means that person is thinking about you. Maybe Eddie was having the same dream.” She teases, and you shove her off the couch. “Hey!”

“Get it all out now, Rob, because if you utter any of this again I’ll have your head on a plate.”

She cackles, head thrown back as you seethe at her, willing yourself to be stern.

“Okay, okay. Just one question, though.” You gesture for her to continue. “Was he big?” She can’t contain herself, cackling again as you throw your head back into the couch cushions. “Okay, I’m done!” She can barely get the words out between fits of laughter, and you excuse yourself to the balcony for a cigarette.

–

Chris is behind the bar when you get to work, throwing your bag and coat on the rack behind the counter.

“Hey, sis!” He greets you as he wipes a mysterious liquid from the bar. “How’d your date go?”

“It didn’t.” You spit venom at your brother, shoving past him to get clean glasses from the dish rack.

“Whoa, what’s your problem?” He pokes at your side, and you swat him away. “Bad lay?”

“Chris, he didn’t come.” You spin to look at your brother, now wearing that stupid, bewildered expression that had gotten him out of trouble so many times. “He stood me up, okay?”

“Oh. Birdy, I’m sorry.” The childhood nickname feels like a stab wound being ripped back open. “I didn’t think he was that kind of guy.”

“What would you know, Chris? You’ve been away for six years! You don’t know fucking anything!” Sure, maybe it’s an unfair fight to have with him, but you’re tired. You’ve only just recently learned Chris was willing to abandon you to save Eddie’s ass, and you need to lash out at someone.

“Okay, okay, that’s fair. I shouldn’t have intervened. If you weren’t with Scotty last night though, where were you?”

You bite your lip, backing down. “I hung out with friends.”

He cocks his head at you. “Steve was working. I went to visit him, Rob was there too. You weren’t there.”

“I have more friends, y’know.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know anything.” You don’t answer, and you watch his face morph into a wide, gleaming smile. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Your guard is up. He knows.

“You were with Eddie, weren’t you? He was at Emo Nite. That chick he’s been seeing had a set, right? Milly something?”

“Macy, Chris. He’s your best friend, you should probably learn his girlfriend’s name.”

“Macy isn’t his girlfriend, Bee.”

“Okay, fine. But whatever they are, they’re hanging out. It’s rude not to know her name.”

“Eh, they’ll be old news soon enough. Besides, I already know the name of the one girl that matters to that kid, even if he doesn’t.”

You don’t indulge this line of conversation, knowing it will only make you angry. Eddie doesn’t care about you, not beyond being his best friend’s sister. You’re not stupid enough to pretend he does. “Whatever.” You move past him to take another drink order.

–

Scotty enters the bar when you’re still too far away from finished with your shift. He approaches the bar with an air of cockiness about him, surrounded by who you can only assume are his friends, people you don’t know well enough to indulge.

“Hey, Bee.” He greets you, leaning against the counter. You can smell the whiskey on his breath, clearly already wasted even though he’s only just arrived. “Nice to see you again.”

You’re not sure if it’s the night you’ve had, or just the sheer audacity of this guy, but you don’t feel like being an example of good customer service right now. “What are you doing here, Scott?”

“It’s a bar. I’m here to drink.”

“There are plenty of bars in Hawkins, why come to the one where the girl you stood up works?”

He bats his eyes at you, big, blue discs, empty of any shame. “Maybe I came to apologize.”

You scoff, turning to grab the whiskey from the back counter. “Something tells me that’s not it.”

“C’mon, baby, I mean it! I should have called.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Your skin crawls as he leans in closer, into your personal space as you pour his drink. “That’ll be ten dollars.” You slam the glass onto the bar. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

He looks from your angry face to the drink, then back. “Can we just talk? I can explain-”

“She told you to get out of her face, Scott.” You hear him before you see him. Your heart rate slows as if his appearance is responsible for calming you down. Eddie shoves his way towards you, past drunk patrons to lean against the counter next to Scotty, who still has not moved.

“Yeah, I heard her. You wanna turn with her, pretty boy?” His words string together, each one making you clench your fists more tightly.

“What the fuck did you just say?" The words fly from Eddie's mouth as soon as Scotty stops talking, head whipping to give him the scariest death glare you've probably ever seen.

“Heard she’s been around a couple times. Not sure if the guy that put her brother in jail would have much of a chance, though. Can’t hurt to try!” You barely know this kid, but his malicious comments hit you like a ton of bricks. How did he know that?

“I’m gonna make it hurt for you to fucking try anything in a second.” He slams his beer bottle on the counter, and you huff at the display.

“C’mon, Munson. Show me what ya got.” Scotty taunts, beckoning Eddie to swing on him.

“Enough, both of you!” You shout, bringing their metaphorical pissing contest to a halt. “I am not in the mood to mop your blood off the floor tonight. Please, take it the fuck outside.” You swipe Eddie’s bottle before he can grab it, and snag Scotty’s with your free hand. “You’re both cut off, by the way.”

Scotty groans, flipping you off before walking away. Eddie just stares at you, eyes big and glassy. “I’m not drunk, Bee. Just couldn’t let him get away with talking to you like that.”

“Eddie, I’m a grown up. I can handle it. Just, go away. Please.”

He doesn’t argue, just gives you a sheepish nod before turning around to join his friends again. Or, you think that’s where he’s going, but you keep an eye on his figure as it follows Scotty out of the bar, swinging the door shut. It takes all of five minutes before some drunk comes bursting through the door yelling “FIGHT OUTSIDE! THERE’S A FIGHT OUTSIDE!”

You throw your head into your hands, exasperated, before gaining enough composure to step outside. The door is thrown open, and you embrace the brisk weather of the night while wrapping yourself in your coat. The scene in front of you is one straight out of David Fincher’s Fight Club; two guys beating on each other for absolutely no fucking reason. As you get closer, you realize just how out of hand it’s become; the people surrounding them starting to back off as Eddie spits blood onto the concrete, laughing maniacally. “C’mon, Scotty, I know you got more in you than that!”

“I’m goin’ easy on you, Munson. Don’t want you gettin’ in any more trouble Don’t think anyone’s gonna bail you out this time.” Scotty is worse for the wear, the blood from his nose dripping right onto his white t-shirt, lip split, hair wild. He charges at the taller man, but Eddie easily dodges the punch and lands one of his own in Scotty’s stomach. You’re close enough to see Eddie, his eyes almost black with rage, hair half falling out of his ponytail. Thankfully, Chris jumps in before you convince yourself to get any closer.

“Hey, HEY! Break it up, boys.” Chris shoves the men apart, a hand on each of their heaving chests. “I need both of you to leave. I just got out of jail, I don’t feel like being questioned by the cops about why I have you two fuckers fighting outside of my bar. Go home, sleep it off.” He turns to Eddie and says something you can’t hear, and you watch as Eddie expressively responds, gesturing to Scotty, then to the bar. Chris turns to where you’re standing, meeting your eyes briefly before turning to Scott, tossing him into the street. “Call a cab, Scotty. Don’t show your fuckin’ face here again. You don’t get to ditch my sister and beat on my friends without repercussions.”

Scotty doesn’t argue, just shoves his hands in his pocket and saunters down the street. “Alright, enough. Everyone, go back inside. Nothing to see here.” Chris starts shooing the crowd back into the bar, leaving you and Eddie trailing behind.

After an extremely lengthy silence, you’re the first to speak. “How’s your face?” You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not wanting to see the carnage.

He laughs, then winces at the pain it causes him. “Hurts a little, why? ‘S it killin’ you?” You still don’t look at him. “Bee, I’m really sorry. He just pissed me off so bad, I–”

“Why?”

“What?”

“I just," You huff, "I don’t get you, I guess. Why would you do that for me?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and you finally look at him to find he’s already staring at you, his left eye swelling shut quickly. “What's to get? I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough. Have a good night, Bee.” Before you can respond, he walks ahead of you, past the bar, and into the night.

–

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

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hannahhook7744 · 1 year ago

Text

Nova Bingham, Child of Argyle and Eden Bingham;

Their full name is Nova Creed Bingham.

They are non-binary.

They are sixteen years old.

They are a member of Adrien’s Youtube channel.

Nova’s parents are pretty chill and freelance where it’s legal.

They love Nova very much and would do anything for them; they just don’t want to be overly strict.

One time, when Mike was babysitting Nova (when they were around six), he lost sight of them for about five minutes and came back to find the kid with half of a shaved head. Nova loved the result. Everyone else was terrified of how Argyle and Eden would react—their reaction was pretty much ‘It looks great, dear? You did that yourself? Wow, you could be a hairdresser!”

Mike was relieved. Jonathan and Nancy (Nova’s godparents) were still pretty pissed though.

Nova is a total stoner.

Also Nova is the one who got the others into witchcraft despite popular belief. No one will ever believe Adrien, Ophelia, Lyra, and Reed whenever they say that, though because Nova just looks so innocent…

They love pizza and know how to make it from scratch. Unlike everything else they try to make.

Nova loves mixing gothic and hippie clothing together even though it drives Reed nuts.

They have great aim with a slingshot.

Nova and the others have all compiled a book of information on various supernatural creatures just in case they run into them at some point (anything is possible in their minds after they find out about the upside down).

Nova’s parents told them about the upside down when they were thirteen.

Nova figured out that Adrien also knew not long after though they never could quite figure out how he found out because he refused to tell them how he found out.

Nova is very close to their parents and loves them very much—which makes it very hard to keep secrets from them. Which is exactly why Nova has very few of them.

Nova has scared their friends before because they can be a bit ‘intense’ with their interest.

Oh and they have talked shit to ghosts before.

Nova has very little impulse control.

Also Nova adores Question, Adrien’s little hamster, very much. Mostly because they’ve never had a pet themselves.

Nova is good at surfing despite having rarely gone surfing before.

Nova speaks several languages and will watch tv in other languages they understand.

If Nova does this with another person in the room and they don’t speak the language, that’s how you know they’re mad at them.

Nova doesn’t get angry often but gets very passive aggressive when they do get angry.

Nova is trying to figure out what you can bake weed into and what you can’t—even though their friends keep begging them not to.

Oh and Nova has used blood before to try and figure out if it will make a spell work—no one knows where they got it from. The others were too scared to ask.

Nova has dizzy spells occasionally.

They are short and climb onto the counter to get stuff from the very top of the cabinet—which scares the shit out of their friends. For obvious reasons.

Nova loves oversized T-shirts and loose sleeves.

Their social media name is ‘Errorgendernotfound 69’.

They prefer rainy weather to sunny weather and can be found wearing t-shirts even in winter because they are rarely ever cold.

Once they were so stoned and sleep deprived that they talked to a pair of Halloween decorations in a store thinking it was Adrien and Ophelia. Their friends have not let them live this down.

Nova loves flower crowns and glow sticks.

Nova also very much believes in soulmates.

Nova and Adrien are strictly platonic.

Nova has introduced Adrien to both “Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared”, “Gravity Falls”, and “Welcome Home”. They geek out over it together more often than they probably should.

Oh and they watched Unnus Annus together.

Nova plays the tambourine and the flute alongside several other instruments.

They play bingo on random things for fun—and would do the same for trauma bingo if they had enough trauma for trauma bingo.

The click is their favorite youtuber.

They love ‘Fear Street’, ‘Scream’, ‘Scary Movie’, ‘Final Destination’, and ‘The Cabin in the Woods’.

#st #stranger things #st ocs #st original characters #stranger things original characters #stranger things ocs #st headcanons #stranger things headcanons

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