“Don’t cry.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.
requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!
warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??
Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?
One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.
Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.
But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.
You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.
Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.
“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”
“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”
“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.
The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.
“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”
He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.
“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”
“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”
You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.
“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”
You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”
He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.
“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”
“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”
You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”
He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.
“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.
“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”
You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”
“Yes, you do.”
It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.
You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.
“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.
“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”
Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”
“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”
Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”
“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”
Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”
“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”
“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”
“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”
“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.
“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”
He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.
“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.
“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.
“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”
“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”
Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.
He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.
“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”
You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.
“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.
“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”
You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”
He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”
You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.
“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”
It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.
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TICK // 8.1 - i guess that's why they call it the blues
Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content, masturbation)
Word Count: 3000
A/N: still trying to work out some bugs on the taglist. thank you to everyone.
☾
Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like it's forever
Between me and you
I could honestly say
Things can only get better
☾
New Year's Eve 1983 - junior year
You sat on your bed, wrapped in a white fluffy towel. Your hair was wet and dangling as you ran a brush through it.
Just let me know the time and place to pick you up.
The phone call was meticulously planned to occur when you were home alone, as Robin and your parents went to the store. There was nothing you disliked more than someone listening in on your private conversations. And having parents like Richard and Melissa made things such as privacy a rare luxury.
After hanging up the phone with Eddie, you had swiftly made your way into the shower. Without wanting to fully admit it to yourself, you purposely used your mother's expensive shampoo so that your hair would smell different, fancy. It was New Year's, after all. A special occasion.
Now the only obstacle was escaping your parents' watchful eyes after dinner. It was a tradition for the Buckley family to eat dinner late in the evening on New Year's. But this year, you and Robin had absolutely no intention of being home at midnight.
You wondered vaguely if Eddie's dad cared about him being out all night.
Mr. Munson didn't seem very nice on the phone when you called for Eddie. The older man was mouth breathing and irritable, like you had interrupted an important event. Which turned out to be true once you heard him yelling about Jeopardy being on.
Having unkind parents was something you understood, but still shocked you to overhear the abusive tone Eddie's father held as his only son simply got a phone call.
And then, as you were lost in thought with the brush still in your hair, a peculiar thing happened.
The phone in your room began to ring.
Knowing you were the only one home, you reached for the receiver with haste, a tiny voice in the back of your mind begging for it to be Eddie again.
But after one ring, just as the tip of your finger touched the phone, the ringing stopped.
You were momentarily frightened as you heard a deep voice mumbling downstairs, then quickly realized that it was your father. You must not have been the only one to ditch the grocery shopping trip.
Then the fear came back, washing over you like a wave. What if it was Eddie calling you back? Your father would have a fucking conniption fit if Eddie Munson was calling his home.
In a panic, you quietly lifted the receiver to see if you could hear the voice of the caller. Normally, you wouldn't dream of listening to someone else's call - but anxiety took over.
"...Richard, honey, come to the office for just an hour… you know I won't tell anyone…"
The sultry voice of a woman was the last thing you expected to hear. You also didn't expect to recognize the voice as your father's coworker, Kate.
Pressing your palm to your mouth and nose to stay quiet, you were unable to stop yourself from listening further, a sick feeling rising in your stomach.
Your father's voice, usually impatient and gruff, seemed almost unrecognizable as he responded to the woman.
"You know that's a risky idea, Kate. I have dinner with my family tonight."
"So come before dinner. The office is empty for the holiday. I promise I'll make it worth your while."
You almost gagged to yourself. Was this really happening, or did you never wake up from your dream-filled sleep from earlier that morning?
It didn't take much for Richard Buckley to give in. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Just don't call the house again, okay? Unless I call you first."
Not waiting to hear the rest of the unpleasant infidelity, you gently hung up the phone and rushed to put clothes on.
Your father was off the phone and gathering the keys to his work truck when you appeared at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed. You were satisfied to see the color drain from his face.
"I- okay, now," he sighed angrily. "I thought you went with your mother to the store."
Relishing in having the upper hand in the situation, you kept a poker face and stared at him.
"Ditto."
Your father sighed again, running a hand over his thin combed-over hair. "I have to run to the office for a while before dinner. There was an… unexpected delivery."
"Okay. I'll let mom know."
You waited for him to turn for the front door, letting him think he could make it out unscathed, before adding another comment.
"Tell Kate I said hello."
Freezing with one hand gripped on the doorknob, white-knuckled, Richard Buckley didn't look at his daughter as he chose his words carefully.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Please don't make me spell it out, Dad. I could hear her on the phone."
"You must be mistaken, then. That was a phone call about a deliv-"
Tossing your hands in the air, you weren't about to be gaslighted. "Oh, come on. I'm not a child. Listen, I'll make you a deal, okay?"
Your father finally looked at you then, face red with anger at your defiance, but not an ounce of shame for being caught. This only fueled your frustration. If your father was going to play dirty, so were you.
"I won't tell Mom about this… if you let me and Robin go out tonight for New Year's. No curfew."
"Fine."
That was easy, you thought, satisfied. But what else could you get out of this?
"One more thing."
He hesitated, but still humored you, gesturing with his hand impatiently for you to continue.
"I don't want to face any consequences for spending time with Eddie Munson. No more threats of private school."
You almost laughed at your father's expression then, the reddest you had ever seen it. He looked as if he could spontaneously combust at any moment.
But as foolish as your father was, he wasn't a complete imbecile. Having an affair with his also married coworker was something that would ruin his reputation not only with the town, but with his beloved church as well. You were almost tempted to ask him how God felt about adultery.
You didn't get an easy response like your first part of the deal.
"Listen," he spoke slowly. "You need to keep your nose out of this. Forget this ever happened. Your mother and I have private lives that don't involve you."
"I have a private life too! And I'm sick of you dictating who Robin and I can be friends with!"
Desperate to end the conversation, Richard pointed his finger in your face.
"You are a troubled young woman. Be friends with whoever you want. But dear daughter of mine," spit was flying from his lips, face basically a tomato. "If I so much as see that Munson boy, this deal is over."
You stared him down. It took everything in you to not smack his finger out of your face. You calmed yourself, realizing that this was as good as the situation could possibly get.
Holding a hand out to shake, you sneered at him. "You drive a hard bargain, Richard."
But he didn't shake your hand. Your father abruptly left the house as he mumbled an almost incoherent "absolute failure" under his breath.
Slumping down on the bottom stair, you trembled with adrenaline, wondering if you were the failure or if your father was actually admitting it about himself.
☾
While I'm away
Dust out the demons inside
And it won't be long
Before you and me run
To the place in our hearts
Where we hide
☾
Eddie found himself in a quandary.
Later that evening, as he got ready to head out for the night, the brown-eyed boy stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a foil wrapper crinkling in his hand.
A condom.
The cliche better safe than sorry was running through his mind. But on the same note, he felt bad for assuming that you would even kiss him again.
He rubbed his eyes, then looked at his reflection in the mirror. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothing. It was kind of a front, though, as his thoughts usually weren't very dark.
Usually.
Eddie still had plans with Jeff and Gareth before he was due to pick you up, and he considered asking them for advice about the situation. That would be fruitless, however, as Eddie was quite familiar with the extent of their experiences with women.
Plus, you would literally have his head if you knew he was talking about you like that to anyone. One of his favorite things about you was the respect you had for yourself, the sureness with which you carried yourself. You were quiet and a little awkward, but still completely confident.
He pondered for a moment, still fiddling with the foil wrapper in his palm. Like a horrible totem representing his own crippled self confidence.
Figuring that you wouldn't even know that he had it unless you actually asked him for one, Eddie tucked it away inside of his wallet for safe keeping.
He could hear his dad stomping around upstairs as he walked back and forth between his armchair and the case of beer in the fridge. As much as Eddie liked his bedroom and bathroom in the basement, he wouldn't miss hearing that annoying stomping as a daily reminder of his dad's alcoholism.
For now, the solitude of the basement was worth it. And it held good memories regardless of the drunk monster that lived above him.
Brushing his teeth, Eddie's thoughts wandered back to the condom in his wallet. He thought about you, about your request to spend New Year's Eve with him. Him, of all people.
At eighteen years old, Eddie was still technically a virgin. Would he ever admit that to anyone? Probably not. Heavy petting make-out sessions and half of a handjob didn't exactly count as occurrences that required such contraception.
And he never really considered himself to be the kind of guy who needed to carry around a condom with him everyday. The town freak.
He noticed attractive people, like any other teenager in Hawkins. But as of the entire last year, you were the only human being to cross his path that made him want an excuse to use a condom.
Sure, he wasn't exactly a blushing, completely inexperienced teenager. Though it had been less than a month, Eddie was still fucking shocked that you hadn't even kissed anyone before. He almost wondered if you were fucking with him, some kind of sick joke.
Deep down he knew you were telling the truth, though. Maybe he was naive, but Eddie refused to believe that you'd lie to him about something like that. Not to mention that after several years of school with you, he had never seen you dating anyone.
Eddie was curious as to why. You were semi-popular, attractive, funny. But maybe your attitude and general feisty demeanor made it clear that you preferred to be alone.
Pacing in his bathroom, the only sound was his boots dragging across the linoleum tile, the clinking of the chains on his belt.
It didn't take long for his attention to crawl towards something more deviant. He didn't think he could ever forget the feeling of your skin as he tattooed you. The cold press of your lips on his as snow fell around them.
Jesus Christ, he needed to get rid of the tension in his body before he was physically near you.
Grabbing the lotion off the bathroom counter, he hastily unbuckled his jeans.
Already hard, he imagined groping you in the shadows, wishing it was your soft hands along his length. He wondered how sensitive you were - would you whimper if he dragged his nails gently over the most private area of your blue jeans? Would you take his hand and place it inside your panties?
He dropped himself back onto his bed, spare guitar picks falling to the floor. Flashing images of you kissing his neck, fingers pulling his hair.
It didn’t take long for him to make a mess all over his belly, letting out a sigh at the ceiling tiles where he swore he could see your name hidden in the cobweb patterns.
☾
I guess that's why they call it the blues
Time on my hands
Could be time spent with you
Oh, laughing like children
Living like lovers
Rolling like thunder
Under the covers
☾
"You're late, Munson."
He smiled at you. "You know, I think that might be something you'll have to get used to. I'm incapable of being on time."
It was just after eleven at night, only an hour before the New Year, as you scrambled into the passenger seat of his warm van. Rubbing your hands together in front of the vents, you turned your excited eyes to him as he drove away from your house.
He was dressed in his usual dark attire. From the glow of the streetlights, you could see his devilish grin as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth.
You were just about to tell him how gross the cigarette was when you heard the song playing on the radio.
"Oh! Turn it up, will you?"
Lifting an eyebrow at you, Eddie twisted the volume dial. "Journey? Are you serious?"
"'Separate Ways' is my all-time favorite song," you stated matter-of-factly, tapping your fingers on the window sill. "So, where are we going?"
"I'd tell you it's a surprise, but it's not really all that surprising. We're going to Lovers' Lake."
Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him.
"That's very original of you, Eddie. Isn't it all frozen over this time of year?"
He flicked the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. "Yes, sunshine. A huge, frigid heart-shaped body of water. Just like my own heart."
You smirked to yourself. "Yet another perfect place for you to finally murder me."
"Not quite yet! I have a warm van, a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and some blankets in the back."
"You literally just described the exact van that murderers drive around in."
Eddie laughed at your morbid sense of humor. "Does it help at all that we'll have the best view on the lake? My friend isn't at his cabin tonight, but he said it's cool to pull my van up to the shore by his boathouse."
Pretending to think hard for a moment, you shrugged and smiled. Then, you shocked Eddie by nonchalantly placing your palm on his leg, like it was something you did everyday.
"I guess that makes up for all these homicidal red flags."
☾
Stare into space
Picture my face in your hands
Live for each second
Without hesitation
And never forget I'm your man
☾
"So, how do your parents feel about you being out so late?"
Eddie helped you wrap yourself into a blanket cocoon and then handed you a beer. He watched as you took a drink of it, shivering slightly, before responding to him.
You were curled up close to each other in the back of his van, legs dangling out of the open rear doors. Eddie made sure to blast the heat in the front so you wouldn't get too cold, but he could still see your breath in the brisk winter air around them.
"Oh, the usual. I'm a sinner. A disappointment. An absolute heathen, disgracing the Buckley name."
He stared at you, his can of beer paused halfway to his mouth. "Did they really say that?"
You snorted. "No, but my father might as well have. My mom's just an idiot who goes along with him."
"Do they know you're with me?"
"Yes," you replied simply.
When Eddie stayed quiet on the matter, you asked some of the lingering questions in your mind.
"How does your dad feel? He didn't sound very happy when I called earlier."
Taking a long sip of the cold beverage in his gloved hand, Eddie seemed to wince at your query. He glanced out at the frozen, dark abyss of Lovers' Lake and then peered over at you.
"I doubt he even noticed that I left the house."
You fidgeted in the blanket and awkwardly adjusted the fluffy hat on your head. "I'm sorry, Munson."
"Don't sweat it. He's just an asshole. I think I'm going to move in with my uncle this summer, though. After graduation."
You were surprised to hear this. "Really? Does your uncle live far away?"
Eddie didn't miss the slight panic in your words, his heart instantly swelling as he realized that you worried he was moving away from Hawkins. Still, he wasn't going to pass up the chance to tease you about it.
"Well, well, well. Are you going to miss me? Is Miss Buckley breaking away from her infamous emotionless exterior? Do I see the hint of an actual soul in there?"
He burst out in laughter as you punched him playfully on the shoulder.
"C'mon, Eddie. If you weren't around, who else would tolerate me?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll tolerate you all the way from Forest Hills Trailer Park, sunshine."
Your shoulders dropped a little in relief. "Oh. That's not far at all."
"Nope."
The conversation went quiet for a while, a comfortable silence forming between the two teenagers. You rested your head on Eddie's shoulder, feeling his hair tickle the side of your cheek.
It didn't go unnoticed by either of you that, without directly saying it, you both wanted to spend the upcoming summer together.
Eddie continued to sneak glances of his watch. Midnight was slowly approaching.
☾
Wait on me girl
Cry in the night if it helps
But more than ever
I simply love you
More than I love life itself
☾
(song lyrics credit: "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues" by Elton John)
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