Eddie Munson x Cunningham! Reader, what if Reader is Chrissy's stepsister or smth like that, and she fell for Eddie, Chrissy's friend, but she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, so she's always kinda mad at Chrissy and Eddie, and Eddie notices it, and talks with reader and she confesses and he tells her that Chrissy has been giving him some tips to make Reader fall in love with him?
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Wrong Cunningham
Y/N Cunningham was not the preppy cheerleader type like her stepsister was. She enjoyed books, video games, and being in her circle of friends. Y/N met many people because of Chrissy's popularity, which she never cared about. But then Chrissy brought home the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen.
His name was Eddie Munson. He had dark curly long hair, big brown eyes, and pink lips. Y/N never felt a crush this intense before, but the second she saw Eddie she couldn't forget about him. She thought about him all the time.
Eddie came over more and more. He even began to have dinner at the house. Y/N got lost in everything he said. Even when he didn't talk, her eyes were still on him. She'd blush and look away when he looked back at her.
But her big crush meant a huge amount of envy towards Chrissy. Chrissy already had a boyfriend, popular, and treated her like a queen. Now she had the attention of Eddie all over her. It was wrong for Chrissy to lead Eddie in the way she was. Which caused Y/N to be even more annoyed with Chrissy.
~~~~
Y/N sang to herself as she dusted her picture frames. She was in her own little world she didn't know Eddie was leaning against her door frame with a smile.
"You have a beautiful voice."
Y/N jumped and turned. She was shocked to see Eddie walking into her room. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh! I didn't know you were here." Y/N said she put down her duster.
"Couldn't pass up your mom's meatloaf." Eddie joked, and Y/N laughed and agreed.
"Do you sing just for fun or perform?" Eddie asked
"Oh god no. I could never sing in front of anyone." Y/N said
"I always thought the same thing but now I'm in a band and perform every Friday, at the hideout, at eight," Eddie said, Y/N felt nervous as he moved closer.
"Is that an invitation?" Y/N asked, she hoped it was.
"If you want it to be." Eddie smiled, now steps closer. He was so close she could smell his addicting cologne.
If she wanted it to be? Of course, she did. But did he want her to?
"EDDIE, where are you?" Chrissy said as she walked up the stairs. Hearing her voice, Y/N stepped away from Eddie and went back to cleaning.
Eddie deflated as she moved away and turned her attention elsewhere.
"Looks like that is your cue," Y/N snapped
Chrissy walked in, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Chrissy winked at Eddie.
"Sure you didn't," Y/N said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Eddie and Chrissy shared a look as Y/N brushed past them to leave the room.
~
Dinner was awkward and tense. Chrissy kept drifting her eyes between Y/N and Eddie. Eddie kept his eyes on Y/N as he tried to figure out what changed. And Y/N kept her eyes down.
Chrissy vowed to get to the end of it.
~~~
Eddie shook off his nerves and walked to Y/N as she closed her locker. After the dinner, a few days ago, things were still tense. But Eddie wanted to try again with Y/N.
"Hey, Y/N"
"Hi Eddie," Y/N smiled
"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the hideout tonight?" Eddie tried to smile confidently, but he was nervous.
"With you?" Y/N felt excited but she felt like she shouldn't be. Chrissy liked him and he liked her.
"Well no," Y/N sighed but Eddie continued, "I will already be there to set up for my performance. But I want you to meet me there."
Y/N felt her excitement building again.
"Yeah, that sounds cool." Y/N smiled a small heat of blush on her cheeks.
"Sweet! And Chrissy is welcome to tag along. You know so you don't have to show up alone at a new place." Eddie explained. He thought he sounded caring, but Y/N took it a different way.
"Oh right, Chrissy. I'll let her know." Y/N smiled before she walked off.
~
Y/N sighed as she got home. After Eddie's not subtle way of asking Chrissy to be there, Y/N didn't feel like going. She told Chrissy that Eddie wanted her to attend tonight's show.
"Are you going?" Chrissy asked, she was confused why Eddie would ask Chrissy to go, but not Y/N.
"No, I don't feel well so I'm going to sleep, plus he asked for you." Y/N sighed as she walked to her room.
~
Chrissy arrived at the show as Eddie took the stage.
Eddie began to play but his eyes moved around the room. He caught Chrissy's eyes and smiled. But he felt disappointed when he didn't see Y/N anywhere.
When the show ended, Eddie came off the stage sweaty and irritated.
"Where is she?" Eddie asked he was slightly annoyed. Why was Y/N dodging him?
"How did you ask her? Because she thinks you asked for me to be here."
"I asked her and she said yes! Then I didn't want her to feel anxious so I said you could tag along." Eddie explained.
"Eddie! You idiot." Chrissy spazzed, her right hand smacking Eddie's arm.
"What did I do?"
"That wasn't the plan. If you want a date, it needs to be just the two of you. If you add anyone else, it immediately tells the girl it's not a date. Which means you aren't interested." Chrissy explained.
"I'll go talk to her," Eddie said as he raced out of the bar.
~
Eddie knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, his hands in his pockets as he waited.
"Eddie?"
"Can we talk?"
Y/N moved aside and let Eddie walk into her room.
"What did I do wrong? Why do you seem to hate having me around?" Eddie asked
"I don't Eddie," Y/N sighed, "I like having you around, it's just complicated." She sat on her bed and looked down at her nails.
"Then explain it," Eddie said, sitting next to her.
"I sorta have feelings for you and knowing you and Chrissy like each other is really hard for me," Y/N said, she looked at Eddie and back to her nails.
"Woah, Chrissy and I do not like each other." Eddie laughed.
"It's not funny," Y/N snapped, and Eddie stooped laughing.
"You're right. It's not funny. But Chrissy and I do not like each other, I swear." Eddie explained. "I like you and Chrissy has been trying to help me."
"Why would you need help?" Y/N asked, her heart racing at his confession.
"I had no idea how to even talk to you. You make me nervous, my tongue goes numb, my heart beats out of my chest, and I wanted to ask you out but I knew I couldn't do it alone."
Y/N felt herself smiling, that was the cutest thing she had ever heard. She couldn't believe she made him nervous. She couldn't believe he liked her back.
"I believe you can do it on your own, try it," Y/N said, she turned her body to face his and laced their hands together.
"Right now?" Eddie choked out
She nodded and squeezed his hand with a smile on her face.
"Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night at the hideout, just us." Eddie asked, he nervously squeezed her hand back.
"You absolutely can." Y/N laughed
"Fuck yeah," Eddie cheered to himself
"Fuck yeah," Y/N laughed.
Seems like Y/N owed Chrissy an apology. But right now, her focus was on Eddie.
Tags!
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I see you are taking requests. I love Eddie munson x reader angst. So maybe one where Eddie's band is doing well and he goes on a small tour and he attracts the unwanted attention of a stalker. She is so obsessed with him she moves to Hawkins and that is when she finds out that he has a fiance (the reader). The stalker than becomes obsessed with making the readers life a living hell. Death threats and all that bad stuff. Until the stalker hurts her one day. Make it as angsty as you want. If you can't do it, then please just ignore. Only if you are comfortable with it. Thanks đ
Warnings: stalking, lots of violence, blood, knives, language, allusions to sex
WC: 3.7k
A/N:Â This is by far the creepiest thing I've ever written. Please let me know what you think. Your feedback really keeps me motivated.
"Oh, Eddie," Gareth says in a sing-song voice, peering out at their growing audience from behind the stage, "guess who's he-ere!"
"Oh, God," Eddie mutters as he tunes his guitar.
Puzzled, you look from him to Gareth for an answer, but when no one offers one, you ask, "Who's here?"
"Sorry to break it to you, Y/N," Jeff's voice is teasing, dripping sarcasm, "but Eddie's got himself a secret girlfriend."
"Eddie Munson!" you joke, feigning anger. "And here I am, trying to plan our wedding while you're collecting groupies on tour."
Your fiancé smiles at you wickedly. "Figured we could have a threesome or somethin.'" You give him a playful shove as he leans in to kiss your cheek. "Nah, babe. She's just a fan. Harmless."
"Just a fan?" Gareth sputters, throwing his head back with laughter. "Dude, she basically stalks you after each gig, trying to buy you drinks. One time, we found her waiting outside next to Eddie's van. I don't even know how she knew which one it was."
Worry rises inside of you. "Eds, be careful. Some of these girls can get a little unhinged."
Eddie's noticeably less concerned. "Don't worry. I'm gonna bring you out on stage tonight and introduce everyone to my beautiful almost-wife." He slings an arm around your waist. "Hopefully she'll get the hint."
~
Watching Eddie perform was an ethereal experience. Sure, you'd heard him rehearsing in the apartment you shared, but seeing him on stage was something else. He just exuded passion for music and connected with his audience. Maybe he connected with them a little too much, considering the situation with that girl, but she was far from your mind as you watched his fingers glide across his guitar. Eddie was born for this.
Corroded Coffin was in the middle of a six-week tour of different venues across Indiana. You weren't able to go to all of them without missing work, but when shows were close enough to home, you made the effort to be there.
They were wrapping up their set, with just the encore left, when Eddie spoke into the mic. "Thank you all for being here with us tonight. We hope we were able to rock your fuckin' worlds!" He's met with a chorus of cheers, widening the grin on his face. "I wanna introduce you all to someone incredibly special to me, who inspires all of the love songs I write." He waves you over and you bound across the stage into his open arms, beaming.
"This is my beautiful fiancée, Y/N. And see this?" He takes your hand and turns it so your diamond ring faces the audience. "Because of fans like you coming to see us, I was able to put this rock on her finger!" He plants a kiss on your lips with an exaggerated mwah! as the audience awws. It's hard to see individual faces, but everyone seems to be smiling. Everyone except for one woman.
She's in the front row, arms crossed over her body. She's in a tight red dress that lands just under her thighs. Her long blonde hair frames her scowling face and she's biting her lower lip as though she's trying to hold back tears.
That must be her, you think. That must be Eddie's "girlfriend." But you can't focus on her for too long, because Eddie grabs a chair for you to sit on while the band plays their encore. You're too enamored with Eddie and his performance to notice the pair of eyes that bore a hole in your head.
~
After the concert, you join the boys in their hotel room for pizza and snacks.
"You guys killed it!" you say as you take a cheesy slice. "The perfect combo of originals and covers. You had them in the palms of your hands!"
Jeff nods, his mouth full. "Thanks! Had a good crowd tonight, too."
"Hey, Y/N," Gareth teases, "didja see Eddie's girlfriend?" Eddie smacks the back of his head.
You laugh. "The blonde who looked like she wanted to murder me?"
"That's the one!"
Eddie puts his arm around you, sending tingles through your body. "Well, let's see if she shows up to our gig tomorrow. See if my good luck charm did the trick."
"Or, you know," you look up at him with puppy-dog eyes, "we could always try for that threesome."
~
You drive home the next morning after staying with Eddie. He normally shared the room with the rest of the band, but he'd rented an extra room so you two could...catch up. You didn't want to leave, but you also need to get to work. You spent the morning nestled into his arms while he kissed all over your face until the bedside clock warned that you had to go.
"Let me know if she shows up and you need me to kick her ass," you whisper into his lips as you say good-bye.
"Calm down, Muhammad Ali," Eddie kisses you against your car, cupping your cheek as he presses his plump lips to yours. "I'll be fine."
You reminisce about last night with your beautiful, wonderful fiancé until you arrive at work. You're so focused on the thought of him running his fingers over your body like his strums his guitar to notice the green sedan that's been following you since you left the hotel.
~
It's dark out by the time you leave work. You make your way to your car and unlock the driver's side door when you spot a piece of paper tucked under your windshield wipers. It's ripped carelessly from a spiral-bound notebook. You unfold it and gasp. Written on it in black ink are two words:
Die, Bitch
This has to be some kind of joke. Someone messing with you. Who would be unhinged enough to seriously threaten your life?
And then you remember. The girl at Eddie's show.
Your blood runs cold. The clock reads 9:07 PM, which means Corroded Coffin is on right now. You can't even call him.
"Fuck!" you yell to no one in particular. You look around and don't see anyone. Okay, you can do this. You just have to get home, lock yourself in your apartment, and wait until 10:30 when their set usually ends. Yeah, you'll just call the venue and ask to speak to Eddie, and he'll come right home. Perfect.
You turn on the car and take deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. You've only gone down the road before the low tire pressure light illuminates your dashboard. This always happens in the fall when the weather gets cooler, and you make a mental note to fill up your tires tomorrow.
A few blocks later, you hear a clunk coming from the front of your car.
"Oh, come on!" you groan, slamming your fists onto the steering wheel. You pull over and get out of your car to inspect your tires. Sure enough, the front right tire is completely flat. That never happens; you can at least make it back from work and to the gas station before they run out of air. But then you notice that the front left tire is dangerously low, too. And so are the the two back ones.
Did she...did she slash your tires?
You run the last mile home faster than you've ever run before, hair flying behind you. The night is chilly, but you're drenched in sweat from the sprint and the fear coursing through your blood. Blisters form on your feet but you push through the pain.
The lights coming from your apartment building have never looked so beautiful. It's a place where the plumbing backed up and the elevators were out of service more than they worked, but right now, it's the best thing you've ever seen. You dash up the stairwell, grateful that your place is only on the second floor. Your weary legs are nearly collapse under you as you turn your key in the lock.
"Hi, neighbor."
You spin around and see her, leaned up against the door of the apartment across from yours. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she's traded her dress for an inconspicuous sweater and pair of jeans, but it's definitely her. A sinister smile creeps across her face.
"Did you see the gift I left you?" she asks, walking toward you. "Or did it fall flat?" She cackles at her joke while you stay frozen, both fight and flight failing you.
"W-why are you doing this to me?" you finally manage. "What did I do to you?"
She narrows her brown eyes. "I show up to Eddie's shows. Every. Single. One." she spits venomously. "And you show up last night, act like you're fucking gracing us with your presence, showing off a ring that shouldn't even belong to you.
"Do you know what Eddie needs? Who he needs? He needs someone who supports him all the time, not just when it's convenient for her. He's gonna be famous one day, and when he realizes how many girls would do anything for him, he'll leave you in the dust where you belong," she sneers.
"Unfortunately, I don't have that kind of patience," she says calmly as she reaches into her pants pocket, pulling out a small pocketknife. "So here's what's gonna happen. You're going to end things with Eddie, or I'll slice your throat open and go back home like nothing ever happened." She gestures across the hall.
"You...live here?" you ask incredulously.
"Just moved in," she announces proudly, "but I've been keeping an eye on this building for vacancies since I first saw Corroded Coffin play. Y'know, Eddie shouldn't have his address listed in the WhitePages now that they're really taking off." She says this like she's helping, like she isn't threatening your life.
"Eddie's playing a gig right now," you say, though you're almost positive that she already knows this, "but he calls me every night after his show. I-I'll do it then."
She offers that evil smile again. "Perfect. Gives us time to rehearse what you'll say. And if you go off-script..." she presses the blade to your neck and cackles. "Now, open the door."
~
The phone rings at 10:40, and you snatch it from the receiver with breathtaking speed.
"H-Hello?" You feel the knife against your throat as she leans into hear what Eddie's saying to you.
"Hey, babe! Guess what?" You feel his excited energy through the phone and hope he can pick up on your terror. "She didn't show up. Looks like our plan worked!"
"T-that's great, Eds," you choke out, wincing as she overhears the conversation. She tilts your chin so that your eyes meet hers, and you watch her mouth, Say it. "But I'm breaking up with you."
"Haha, very funny," he says, and your heart sinks as you realize he's completely oblivious.
"No, I'm serious. You deserve better than me. And," you swallow thickly, "and I've been cheating on you."
There's silence on the other end of the line. You think he might've hung up until he exhales loudly and asks, "With who?"
"Doesn't matter," you repeat the lines she's fed you. "There's been more than one guy."
"Why are you telling me this now, Y/N?" His voice warbles, and your heart breaks knowing you're making him cry.
"I'm sorry," you respond, feeling tears well up in your own eyes, "but I don't love you anymore." And you hang up and burst into tears.
"There, there," she runs a cold hand through your hair, fingers catching on the knots that formed throughout the day. She tears through them, sending jolts of pain into your scalp. "You did the right thing, Y/N."
"Please, just leave me alone," you choke out. "I did what you asked."
She shakes her head. "You're not dumb, so I don't know why you're acting like you are." She grabs your elbow with her free hand and stands you up. "Go and pack your things. All your things. You're leaving tonight." You hesitate for a second and she raises the blade to your neck again. "I said GO!"
You shuffle into the room, still sobbing. You fling open a suitcase and start shoving clothes in haphazardly. She's next to you the whole time, watching your every move. After 30 minutes, you've packed as many belongings as you can into various pieces of luggage and piled them at the entryway.
"Now, one last thing," she says in an eerily soft voice. She takes your left hand, plucks off your engagement ring, and slides it on her own finger. She holds up her hand as the diamond catches the light. "Fits like a glove. Like it was meant to be."
You're about to throw up when there's a knock at the door. It can't be Eddie; his show was two hours from here.
"Who the fuck is that?" she hisses. She ticks the blade upwards and you feel the skin break slightly.
"I-I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I'll answer it and tell them to leave, okay?"
"Don't try anything, or that cut will be a lot deeper," she threatens.
You open the door slowly, just a crack, and see Jim Hopper standing in front of you.
"Y/N, Eddie just called me, said to get over here. Said something's wrong," he whispers. You see his eyes meet the trickle of blood creeping down your neck.
Help me, you mouth, and then quickly say, "I'm not interested in supporting the Hawkins PD." You close the door and pray that he got the message.
"Open this door!" he bellows. âOpen the door, or Iâll break it down!â
The girl grabs your hair tight in her fist. âDid you call the police, you bitch?â Saliva gathers at the corners of her lips.
âN-no,â you cry, âEddie mustâve called them after I hung up. I swear.â
She turns her attention back to the door to address the chief of police, never easing her grip on your locks. âYou break down this door and youâll find her in a pool of her own blood!âÂ
You vaguely hear Hopper calling for backup through the pounding in your ears. Iâm going to die, you think. Iâm going to die right here in my home, where Eddie and I were supposed to start a family. Sheâs going to take it all away from me.
âIt really is a shame it had to come to this,â she mumbles. âIâd hoped Eddie would see me at his shows and make me his. I dressed so heâd notice me, and apparently, he did.â She pauses for a moment, contemplating. âI bet it was you who told him to watch out for me. Because you know Iâm a threat. You know I could steal him from you, and that terrifies you, doesnât it?â Sheâs proud of herself, feeding her own ego.
Youâre unsure whether itâs better to agree or argue, and you ultimately decide to say nothing. There isnât anything that can help you now.
Another heavy knock on the door startles you from your thoughts. âHawkins PD! Release the hostage, or weâre calling in the crisis team.â Itâs not Hopper, but a different male officer, though youâre sure heâs still there.
Sheâs laughing now, and you only see pure malice in her eyes. âFuck off,â she says, too quietly for them to hear. Itâs meant for you.
The cop calls out twice more, and you hear him say something to the chief, though you canât make out what it is.
âIf you let her go, we can just take you down to the station. We donât have to get anyone else involved,â Hopper tells her. âWe donât have to make this bigger than it needs to be.âÂ
The girl bites down hard on her lower lip, drawing blood. âYou see what you do? You couldnât just leave Eddie alone, could you? This all could have been avoided if you werenât so selfish.â Her hand still in your hair, she drags you over to the bedroom. Strands tear from your scalp. âThere. Much quieter in here.â
She throws you on the floor, where you land with a smack. Your head hits the bed frame before you can get your hands out in front of you, and you yelp. A curtain of red falls over your left eye.
âClumsy bitch,â she grumbles, pacing in front of the door.Â
She has to get tired eventually, you think. Just gotta wait it out.
Sheâs babbling on about her future with Eddie, what their wedding will look like, how adorable their children will be. That and the lightheadedness from losing blood is enough to make you sick. You feel the bile rising in your throat, but it stops when you spot something shiny underneath the bed.
Eddieâs handcuffs.
He used to just wear them as an accessory, but theyâd been put to...other uses since you two had gotten together. They mustâve gotten kicked under the bed after youâd last used them.
A plan formulates in your head, though itâs hard to straighten your racing thoughts.
Wait until sheâs sleeping...cuff her...run like hell.
You repeat the steps silently memorizing them as you did the lines to break up with Eddie.Â
Your clock shows that itâs just past midnight when you hear his voice.Â
âY/N! Where is she?â he shouts at the officers, though you canât make out their responses.
âLet her go!â he screams, fists hammering the door. âJust let her go!â
Youâre trembling, desperate to be out of this room, to be held in his arms, to be away from the crazy woman whoâs hell-bent on destroying you.
âAw, your knight in shining armor showed up,â she taunts you now. âWonder what heâll think of my new ring. Think heâll like it?â When you say nothing, she takes a sneakered foot and kicks you in the stomach. You curl up, shielding yourself from another blow. âI said, do you think heâll like it.â
âY-yes,â you say between clenched teeth. âI think heâll love it.â You crane your neck slightly so youâre looking right at her. âWhat are you gonna do to me once you get him?â you ask softly, afraid for her answer.
âIâm gonna kill you,â she replies simply, as though itâs an ordinary response. âIâm gonna kill you and make him watch. Show him what happens when he makes the wrong choice, so he doesnât do it again.â She flicks her knife and you shudder, but you donât miss the yawn that escapes her mouth.
Keep her talking, you think hazily, but donât talk too much. Donât give yourself away.
âWhat made you go for Eddie?â you ask. âWhy him?â
âWeâre soulmates. I just...feel it.â Her eyes dance as she talks about him, the way he shows off for her on stage, the songs he writes that she knows have to be about her. She goes on and on, and the only thought keeping your stomach from souring completely is that sheâs wearing herself out.
Hours pass, and the sun is starting to rise before her eyelids flutter as she lays against the bedroom door. The pinkish streaks streams through the blinds and you know itâs only a matter of moments before the bright light wakes her fully. You listen to her soft snores as you slowly reach for the cuffs, allowing yourself a tiny smile, a small moment of joy, as you grasp the metal between your weak fingers.
You snap one around her left wrist. You have to work fast but gently, strategically, to get the other around the doorknob. It wonât hold her back for long, but hopefully just long enough that you can get to safety.
As the second cuff clicks closed, her eyes snap open. âW-wha--â she starts, and you yank the door open and fly through the living room.
"Iâm here Iâm here itâs me!â you cry out, flinging yourself into the first person you see. That person happens to be Chief Hopper, who brings his gun down to his side to envelop you in his arms. You feel him breathe a sigh of relief, tension leaving his body.
âWeâve got you,â he murmurs. Someone throws a blanket over your shoulders and guides you towards an EMT. A swarm of uniformed officers, maybe a SWAT team, rushes into the apartment to arrest your assailant.
âOh my god,â you hear Eddie breathe, making his way through the crowd of people until he reaches you. âBaby, I am so sorry.â
ââS not your fault,â you sob into his chest, crumbling to the ground and taking him with you.Â
âYes, it is,â heâs crying now, too, âI paraded you out on stage, showed you off, instead of just going to the cops in the first place.â He takes your hands in his, a puzzled look crossing his face when he canât feel your ring.
âShe took it,â you tell him numbly. âSheâs wearing it right now.â
âIâll get you a new one,â he promises, but you shake your head.
âDonât care about that,â you heave, trying to catch your breath but finding it impossible. And then the world goes black.
~
You wake up in a hospital bed, machines whirring and beeping around you. You stir and almost immediately feel a hand on your arm.
âY/N? You awake?â Eddieâs voice floats past you, music to your ears. You smile as a headache pulses through your temples. You touch your forehead gingerly to find a bandage covering the wound you acquired last night.
âIâm awake, Eds,â you croak.
âOh, thank god,â he leans in to kiss you, laying a hand on your stomach, but he pulls back as soon as he notices your grimace.
âShe...she kicked me there,â you explain, and his face falls.
âFuck,â he whispers. His voice shakes and his hands tremble.
âWhere is she?â Dread flows through you as you realize she couldâve escaped, could still be out there, waiting for you.
âLocked up, no bail,â his doe eyes meet yours. âShe wonât hurt you anymore. I wonât let anyone hurt you anymore,â he promises.
Your tears are those of joy, and he holds you close, letting you cry. Youâre staining his shirt but neither of you care.
âItâs over, sweetheart,â he promises. âYouâre safe.â
Safe.Â
A word, a feeling, a state of being youâll never take for granted again.
--
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this couldnât be said any better
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and they said, speak now
18+. mdni. smut. mentions of cheating. femreader!xeddie. no use of y/n!
a little second chance romance story wherein eddie is invited to your wedding, though heâs hopeful that itâll never actually happen.
a/n: wanted to get this finished so i could start writing a follow up for too sweet (bc i love it and i love mean asshole eddie) so i hope it bridges some sort of gap while i write :p switches pov a lil bit but itâs all marked out 4 ya.
â-gettinâ married to who?â eddie spits, barreling into the living room with a mouthful of cereal.
steve looks up from the paper invite and shrugs, âmark?â mouthing a quiet i donât know as robin looks between the two.
âand iâm invited?â
âi mean.. it says all of us so..â he looks up at eddie, âdo you even want to go?â dubious at eddieâs overly keen questioning.
eddieâs bewildered that heâd even ask, ââcourse weâre fucking going,â shaking his head, still gripping onto his bowl of cereal, âi didnât even know she was datinâ anybody else.. what the fuck.â
robin shares a look with her best friend, thinking eddie hasnât seen. he knows exactly what theyâre not saying. it doesnât exactly need to be spelled out for him.
perhaps eddie hadnât ever really gotten over it. it being you leaving to new york for college, breaking up with him in the process.
maybe they were justified in their judgemental glances, itâd been years since youâd left. he should be over it by now. evidently, youâve moved on. why hadnât he?
but he wasnât and now heâs not sure if heâll ever be.
-
the five of them shovel into jonathanâs car, robin squished between eddie and steve in the back with their bags piled high in the trunk.
eddie stares out of the window, he had started to regret agreeing to go. his ex-girlfriend, whom he wasnât exactly over, was getting married to some fuckhead heâd never met and now he had to go and wear a suit and pretend to be happy about it all.
âi still canât believe sheâs getting fucking married,â he grumbles into his fist.
robin grins, nudging her elbow into steveâs ribcage, âoh this going to be so much fun,â elated at his misery.
jonathan sighs quietly, throwing his head back against the seat and slyly turning the volume up so as to not hear any more of eddieâs whining.
thereâd been months of it, so heâs not surprised.
-
eddie is fucking elated to reach the hotel, gawping at the grand exterior as they get out of the car, stretching their legs after the long trip.
âjeez,â robin utters, staring at the tall building with her mouth hung open, âat least sheâs marrying rich, hey?â wiggling her brows at eddieâs less than excited face.
he doesnât rise to it, ignoring her obvious attempts to get him riled up.
itâs even nicer inside, gold plated ornaments decorate the walls, outdated paintings of old people he didnât care to know, joining them.
theyâre in the process of checking in when a familiar voice comes from behind, a small, meek, âhey guys!â
itâs you.
they spin, sharing tired smiles as you stand looking horrifically awkward. like somehow you hadnât shared years and years of history with every single person here.
everyone else gets a short, half hug, exchanging niceties while eddie waits patiently for his turn. he doesnât think youâll even acknowledge him.
but your eyes lock, that same sinking feeling that he felt all those years ago as he watched your car pull out of hawkins plagues his stomach.
âhey,â you nod, tense as you open your arms for a hug.
itâs more than heâd ever expected, now finding himself stuck, unable to embrace the situation. youâre exactly the same and yet he feels like he doesnât recognise you. barely touched by the graces of age, still the same girl he was sure he still loved.
eventually he pulls himself together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in.
fuck.
you even smell the same. the heavy vanilla scent of your shampoo wafts through the air, transporting him back in time to nights shared in his cramped room, talking about the future together and how you couldnât wait to get out of hawkins.
itâs utterly ironic, and not to mention heartbreaking, to think about now.
âhi,â eddie musters, sounding as pathetic as he felt.
the others watch on in anticipation, expecting a screaming match only to be met with whatever the fuck this was. dancing around each other like two complete strangers.
âhow.. uh, how was the drive?â you ask, fiddling with your fingers, the way you used to when you were nervous.
âlong,â he smiles meekly.
thereâs too much he wants to say, desperately wanting to just shake you and ask what the hell youâre doing getting married to someone whoâs not him.
besides, four sets of eyes watch both of you eagerly, hoping for an argument or maybe the exact opposite.
âthere you are!â a gruff voice bellows, coming out of the mouth of the most insufferable looking man eddieâs ever seen.
he walks over with his shit-eating grin, taking you away from eddieâs grasp, leaving an aching in his fingertips.
your brows shoot upward, sighing softly, âeveryone, this is mark.. mark, these are my..â your eyes dip, unable to meet eddieâs gaze, âfriends.â
markâs hand extends towards eddie, grinning like a complete fool as he shakes it. ânice to meet you man! heard so much about you,â his grip tight, squeezing the tired bones in his hand.
eddie wonders if heâs asserting his dominance, if youâd told him who exactly he was. about all those years you spent as his girlfriend. about how he used to make you cum in two minutes. or perhaps all the times you swore that if you had to get married, itâd be to him.
eddie doesnât count on it.
-
eddie waits. and he waits. and he waits.
pacing the floor of his room, contemplating if he truly had the nerve to stalk the halls to your room or if heâd have to sit here and regret it forever.
fuck it, he thinks. thereâs no guarantee heâll even knock on the door, he just needs to get out of here and at least try to.
eddieâs acutely aware that nothing he says to you will change your mind in fact, he thinks youâll more than likely slam the door in his face.
but heâs gotta try.
- readerâs pov -
itâs a quiet knock, barely audible as you toss and turn.
you debate even answering, too caught up in your nerves to care about some bridesmaid complaining about her dress or your mother prattling on about the floral arrangements again.
but then they knock again, louder this time though it sounds more unsure, a hesitant wrap of the knuckles, pulling yourself from the comfort of your blanket to see what they wanted.
you hardly register who the person is before immediately wanting to slam the door in his face.
âwhat are you doing?â you hiss through the small gap in the door, noting that it was somewhere between 11 and midnight.
âi wanna talk,â eddie frowns, carefully wedging his foot between the door, as if you wouldnât immediately notice.
âwe donât need to talk,â you refute, scowling at your batshit crazy ex.
he sighs, looking around the empty corridor, knowing he shouldnât be here right now. âcan we.. i just wanna talk.. thatâs it,â his eyes wide and begging.
you take pity on him, you always did when he had that pathetic frown on his face. like a dejected puppy that needed you to cradle him.
something in your head screams out to just close the door, itâs a terrible idea and you know it.
alas, you pull it open a few more inches, giving him the chance to slide inside before itâs shut again, turning the lock immediately.
if anyone were to walk in, your relationship would be ruined, tomorrow would just be a waste of money and youâd be a social pariah in your circles.
âwhy didnât you tell me that you were getting married?â
the nerve to ask that question like he deserved an explanation. you havenât even seen the man in years and yet, he feels as if heâs owed something from you.
âi didnât know i had to,â you shrug, standing a few feet away from him, hoping to keep the distance.
eddie scowls, brows knitted into a line across his forehead, âyou donât- i thought we were friends.. friends tell each other those things.â
âyou havenât seen me in years eddie!â raising your voice despite being surrounded by your friends and family. âwhat gives you the right to march in here and ask me that?â stepping closer with every word, taken aback by his sheer nerve.
his eyes harden, jaw tense, âyou left me- you did that and then the next time i hear from you, itâs because youâre getting married? sâthat not completely fucked up to you too?â
âi didnât leave you! i went to college, like people our age are supposed to! itâs not my fault that youâd rather sit in jeffâs basement pretending to be a rockstar,â snarling your upper lip, hoping youâll hit him right where it hurts.
if nothing else, itâs frustrating. eddie was always talking about his big dreams and how he was going to get out of hawkins once and for all, make something of himself and never look back.
but you got tired of waiting for that to happen. years and years of soon and iâm not readyâs had left you pretty hopeless for any kind of future with him.
he shakes his head, scoffing, âoh? so should i have followed you to new york? watched you change everything about yourself for some asshole?â
thereâs a lump in your throat now and weirdly, not a speck of anger. at least not about his words for your fiancĂ©. more so about his complete disregard of your feelings, the dreams you put on hold for him.
âi didnât.. i didnât change,â bottom lip trembling, âthis is me eddie,â nostrils flaring as you skulk closer, âyou just donât know me anymore.â
âi know you better than he does,â he fires back, adams apple bobbing in his throat. a sincere, honest tone.
it only makes you more frustrated, the audacity to come here and act like this, the day before your wedding.
you laugh in his face, a maniacal cackle, âyouâre deluded,â gathering all of your strength not to punch him in the face, âyou should leave, before you embarrass yourself any more.â
heâs almost frantic now, grasping the air, âiâm not the one embarrassing myself here. the you i know would never want this.. what happened to that girl who promised to marry me? whereâs she?â
âpeople change eddie! you clearly havenât!â you hiss, prodding your finger into his chest, hoping youâll somehow set him alight with your fingertip.
he grabs your hand, keeping it close to his heart as his frown sets in. âtell me- tell me that this is what you want, the big wedding and fucking mark and a couplâa kids, tell me and iâll leave,â downturned eyes, begging himself not to cry.
you want to scream, ferociously snatching your hand away from him before you turn away. sick to death of looking into his glossy chestnut eyes. loathing the feeling of your past flooding back into your brain.
a few years ago, you wouldâve been certain that eddie was the one you were going to marry. marriage wasnât something you were ever particularly interested in, your parents hadnât been the best example. but if it had happened, it wouldâve been nothing like this, maybe in the tiny chapel in hawkins, a couple years from now, a small, private ceremony with your friends and family. youâd be lying if you said you had never thought about it.
about what couldâve been.
somewhere, buried deep inside, you longed for it.
eddie doesnât budge, hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing from behind. you can picture that stupid look on his face, pathetic and sullen as he waits for a fleck of hope.
you turn back, praying that youâll have somehow found the strength to tell him to leave in the two seconds it takes to face him.
it doesnât come, the lump in your throat dissipating only to be replaced with a fiery pit in your stomach.
and then a moment, where neither of you have the guts to speak any longer, in what feels like the most intense battle of eye contact youâd ever been a part of.
but itâs over as quickly as it started, both of you lurching forward at the same time, lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, finding the side of his head for leverage as his antsy hands grip your waist.
the rest is just a silent routine, one you two have been through a hundred times before.
your back crashes into the desk, pressed into the wood by his torso. a hand squeezing your thigh as youâre helped onto the surface.
the metal on your fourth finger aches, as if some higher power is attempting to intervene, to stop this mistake before it goes too far.
itâs dutifully ignored, spreading your legs to allow him between your soft thighs. the thin material of your shorts meant that you could feel everything. his cock jumping as it brushes against your heat, low grumbling into your mouth at the action.
his jacket slips from his shoulders and onto the floor, your soft hands running down the length of his arms, brushing against the tattoos you used to spend hours tracing.
eddieâs hands roam your body, between your thighs, tucking underneath the elastic of the shorts as your hips lift in unison, allowing him to pull them down.
his throat rumbles at your lack of underwear, rough denim pressed against your cunt, his erection demanding out of his jeans.
your fingers fumble with his jeans, hearing the low clink of his belt somewhere muddled between his grunting and your melodic pants.
the throbbing between your thighs becomes almost insatiable, finding your own release on the rough fabric of his jeans, sighing into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip into yours instead.
cold fingers grip your thighs, lifting your legs so that they rest around his waist, clothed cock nudging against your heat, growling into your mouth.
your head jerks back, âmy mom.. my momâs next door..â you pant, fingers trailing over his lips, doing nothing to muffle his raspy groans.
âgood,â eddie smirks, hurriedly tugging his boxers down beneath his balls, burying himself inside of your soaked cunt, âi never liked her.â
a strangled moan is all you manage in response, grabbing at the desk for a little leverage as his hips meet the back of your thighs. any anger you felt towards his insults towards your mother quickly float away, turning into static as he slides slowly in and out.
marvelling at the sight of your cunt once again envelopes around him. youâd missed that, his damn near infatuation with your pussy.
the wooden frame knocks against the wall, whatever shit you had compiled for the morning all comes tumbling down, clattering to the floor alongside your long mewls.
eddie near enough melts, fingers melding into one with your skin, filling your cunt to the hilt. a certain feeling that had never been replaced, only achieved by him and his undeniable love for your pussy.
your lips catch onto his, attempting to muffle his hoarse groans, hoping to to god that the walls were thick enough.
âmissed you,â he murmurs, half into your mouth, the other vibrating against your chin as your lips connect in the most careless manner.
your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, pressed to his as your fingers begin to loosen their grip on the desk. his pace unfaltering with utter desperation, an exhilaration he had chased for years, to no avail.
âfuck,â you whine, regretting the shaky word the second it slips out. one arm hooks around his neck, forehead resting against his as his hair begins to stick.
itâs so disgusting, so wracked with desire that youâre sure youâll be thinking- feeling it for months.
eddieâs cock nudges against against the spot only he could ever find, his pubic bone catching against your clit. fuelling the inextinguishable fire in your stomach, only making it rise into your throat.
with every fervent thrust heâs grumbling something;
fuck, shit, love you, love you.
your legs tremble, exhausted as they sit around his zealous hips. naturally, they tighten, drawing him in closer, an incessant need to feel all of him all at once.
âyou canât.. not inside,â you pant, opening his eyes to meet his though theyâre not on yours. staring starry eyed at the space between your bodies, watching as they collide in ways your heart had longed for.
heâs close, you can tell. choking on his breaths when you squeeze around him, signalling your own orgasm.
âfuck, i canât-,â eddie howls, desperately pounding his cock into your quivering cunt, giving everything away for the last thirty seconds.
you cry out, toppling over the edge as your stomach all but bursts, the pleasure reaching every last nerve in your body. clinging to his neck with a white knuckle grip, clutching his clammy skin as your body turns to mush before him.
eddie just about manages to pull out, sliding between your slick folds before his stomach lurches, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, thighs and the desk.
your foreheads remain as one, gasping into the hot air that surrounds you.
finally, his eyes trail up toward yours, meeting with the most sorrowful look that a man who has just cum, could hold.
itâs as if reality sets in, untangling your legs to shove him away. harsh and untoward as he stumbles back, still reeling from his own orgasm.
âoh my god,â you mumble incoherently, âoh my god, iâm getting married tomorrow,â clenching your fist, shouting as if he were somehow unaware.
his silence is deafening, his release still clinging to your body as you jump from the wooden table, marching into the bathroom, swallowing the urge to cry.
eddie stands with his head hung low, belt still undone as you sanctimoniously barging back past him to redress yourself, muttering ferocious whispers to yourself.
âiâm getting married tomorrow,â you repeat, unwavering anger in your voice. undecided on whether you were telling him or yourself that fact.
âso youâre still gonna marry him?â eddie asks, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. he had reason to be, you suppose. anyone else would assume the same.
you swallow, âwhat else is there for me?â
getting married had been the next logical step. you had the job, the house, the sweet, timid guy that wouldnât hurt a fly. why wouldnât you marry him?
his face crumples, brows stitched together in confusion, âme?â
almost on instinct, your head shakes, smacking your palm into his shoulder, âno. not you. itâs not supposed to be you,â a certain sadness plaguing your tone, âit was never supposed to be you,â palm slapping into his chest.
eddieâs face falls, holding his jacket in his hands wishing youâd take it back, tell him you were lying and that you really did still love him.
buried somewhere under years of regret, you probably still did.
tears weep out of the corner of your eye, quickly wiped away with your trembling finger. âyou need to leave,â eyes pointed to the floor, refusing to look at him any longer.
he sighs, hesitantly stepping around the mess you both had made and out of your peripheral view. slow steps, willing for your mouth to open and those three words to dance out of it.
the door clicks shut and youâre alone again. nauseous and wishing you had just let him stay, wanting nothing more than to be held in your insurmountable feelings of remorse.
-
youâve barely slept, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and indecision.
six years of work and making something of yourself had come horrifically crashing down in one night, one stupid, moronic mistake.
but was it really a mistake when your heart still aches and your lips still feel the traces of his.
a short knock breaks you from your trance, the noise youâd been dreading all night.
sarah. bright-eyed and stupidly excitable nature, ready for your wedding day.
âwoah,â she remarks, eyes darting around the room youâre just now realising you forgot to clean, âcrazy night?â she smirks, eyeing the bottles and pens that had fallen from the desk to the floor.
âoh,â you smile, bile rising in your throat, âiâm just..â clambering for an excuse, âclumsy.â
she scoffs, dumping her bag on the unmade bed, âyou donât have to lie to me,â smile growing, âif you and mark wanna.. break traditions then iâm all for it.â
her wilful innocence makes you feel all the more worse. youâre supposed best friend was none the wiser, bouncing around with a proud smile, ready for your wedding day.
- eddieâs pov -
steve notices somethingâs up immediately.
dark rings accompanying eddieâs eyes after he had gone missing for hours last night.
âyou good?â steveâs hand thwacks against his back, assuming eddieâs manner was all to do with the fact that you were getting married and not that only a few hours ago, he was telling you that he still loved you while you were having sex.
the ride to the venue is quiet, which everyone appreciates, having prepared for a litany of complaints and whining.
the church is even more extravagant than the hotel, resembling one of those castles heâd seen in a fairytale book.
he wants that to make him feel better, that at least he wasnât the one wasting all of this money on a stupid wedding, but it doesnât.
because irregardless of how much money you were spending, you were still marrying someone else.
sure, it wouldnât be a particularly honest nor holy marriage but itâd be a marriage nonetheless. something he would never have with you. no matter how hard he tried.
they file into the pew, sitting slumped against the varnished wood as everyone chatters around him.
concerned heads fly around, the groomsmen rushing up the aisle as theyâre beckoned by your bridesmaids.
eddie sits up, looking around at the frantic bridesmaids who were desperately trying to get the pastorâs attention. somethingâs wrong. he can feel it in his bones.
he throws up a quick two with his fingers to steve before sliding out of the pew, ducking his head down the aisle as he searches for you.
slipping past the worried wedding party, opening a multitude of doors in search of you. hoping that youâd at least made it to the church, that you were okay.
he doesnât expect to find you in here, holding onto your mouth, mascara stains dripping down your cheeks, curled into the corner with your shoulders shaking. eddie slips in, shoving the broom in between the door handle, ensuring that no one else could find the pair of you.
you spend a moment, gazing into each otherâs eyes until you squeak, âwhatâre you doing?â the most soul crushing tone that makes his heart ache.
âi came to find you,â he says, simply.
because he would, heâd do it in every life.
your palm smears the black stains around your cheek, scoffing at his words. âyou shouldnât have.. iâm fine,â trying to convince yourself more than you were him.
âyou donât look fine.â
your bottom lip trembles, threatening to spill over again. evoking a harsh stab of guilt through his chest. eddie surges toward you, placing his palms over yours, âyou donât have to do this.. we can leave right now,â he assures, searching your eyes. heâd whisk you away in a heartbeat, you didnât even have to ask. just give him that look.
your nostrils flare, a wail constricted to the back of your throat, trying hard not to alert the hundreds of wedding guests sat just a couple hundred meters away. the dark light of the closet does well to accentuate your tearful eyes, his heart aching with every sniffle, every quietened sob that falls from your lips.
then, you growl, rather forcefully slapping his chest, âthis is your fault,â fingers grabbing onto his suit jacket, âwhy couldnât you just leave me alone?â frustration seeping out of your words.
eddie doesnât have an answer, at least not one that would make you feel better.
so he stands in silence, letting you treat him like your verbal punching bag.
âi canât do it,â you cry, burying your face into his neck, âi canât.. marry him.â
he nods, stood just before you in this cramped closet, âyou donât have to,â assuredly grabbing your sodden cheeks, streaks of black stain his palms, âwe can go.. anywhere you want, right now.â
promising the world because really, it was all he had to offer.
he wasnât rich, hadnât figured out how to get the fuck out of hawkins yet but he did know that he loves you and heâd do anything to prove that.
you swallow, averting your eyes to the sparkling ring on your hand, curled into the fabric of his jacket. âokay,â flicking back to his eyes, itâs so simple and yet it knocks the breath from his lungs.
nothing really registers, eddie had planned for more bargaining, certain that regardless of his pleas, youâd still end up walking down that aisle, promising yourself to another man.
âreally?â he asks, clarifying for both himself and for you. there was still time for you to pull yourself together and go get married, he wasnât going to deny you that.
âreally,â you nod frantically, âiâll go anywhere,â tugging at the collar of his shirt, âanywhere with you.â
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What You Deserve Part 8: You Have Five
Masterlist: Here
CW: Mentions of toxic past relationship
Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies @marshmallowgem @ang3lc @angelina16torres-blog @transparentenemypenguin @alilstressyandlotdepressy
A/N: You will get to see what Eddie said to William donât worry, and I know some might think we moved on too quickly but this isnât the last time the William situation is brought up in this story. Anywayyyy I hope yâall enjoyâš
âGood morning sweetheart did you-â âyouâŠyou stayedâŠwith me?â âOh uh well I didnât want you to wake up in a room you didnât recognize and be all alone soâŠyeahâŠbut donât worry I slept in the chair in the corner.â âYou didnât have to do thatâŠyou didnât have to do any of itâŠIâm sorry.â âPlease stop apologizingâŠwhat happened last night and what happened any other night with him isnât your fault okay? You didnât do anything wrong.â âI shouldâve moved after I broke up with himâŠI know what heâs like andâŠand how he handles things and IâŠI just stayed where he could get to meâŠIâm such an idiot.â âYou are many things sweetheart but an idiot isnât one of them.â âYou have to say that because youâre myâŠmy-â âEddieâŠIâm your Eddie.â âYeahâŠyouâre my Eddie andâŠyou have to be nice to me.â âI donât have to be nice to youâŠIâm nice to you because thatâs how you deserve to be treatedâŠIâm sorry that others havenât been as kind to you but Iâm here now soâŠyou donât have to worry about that anymore.â âYeahâŠfor now at least.â âDonât do thatâŠdonât talk about this as if itâs ending soon because itâs notâŠitâs only just begun.â âItâs only just begun and here I amâŠin your bedroom because you had to come save me from my asshole ex boyfriend who likes toâŠto get drunk and bang on my front door until he gets in so he canâŠtell me how mad he is and howâŠhow horrible I am andâŠand if Iâm lucky itâll end with just yelling.â âYou couldâve called me the day after I took you to work the first time and I wouldâve comeâŠyou are worth saving and Iâm so..so sorry you have ever been in a situation like that but I promise you wonât ever have to deal with anything like that again.â âYou canât make that promise EddieâŠheâs just going to come back.â âOhâŠtrust me sweetheart he wonât be coming back.â âYou..you said you wouldnât hurt-â âI didnât hurt himâŠI swear I didnât even touch him.â âWhat did you say to him?â âThatâs not importantâŠwould you like some breakfast? I could make you something.â âUhmâŠsureâŠyeah that sounds good.â âWant me to bring it to you or would you like to eat in the kitchen with me?â âIâll eat with you..â âOh and by the way this isnât my bedroomâŠthis is a guest bedroomâŠI wasnât sure how comfortable youâd feel waking up in my bed and I want you to be as comfortable as possible while youâre here.â âOh..this is niceâŠfor a guest bedroom.â âIâm glad you like itâŠIâll let you get dressed and Iâll just be in the kitchen okay?â âOkayâŠthank you Eddie.â âYouâre welcome sweetheart.â âSoâŠyou have five.â âYou look lovelyâŠI have five what? Oh how do pancakes sounds? Thatâs about all Iâm good for when it comes to breakfastâŠbesides a bowl of cereal.â âBedroomsâŠpancakes are fine..I love pancakes.â âWell one of them is an office soâŠâ âIt was still made to use as a bedroom soâŠyou have five.â âDid you count them on your way to the kitchen?â âNoâŠwhen I came over the other night for dinner you gave me the tour and I just remembered you said you didnât know how many bedrooms you hadâŠâ âwell thank you for paying such good attentionâŠcoffee?â âYes please one-â âI know how you like your coffee sweetheart.â âOh..right.â âGo get comfortable on the couch while I make breakfastâŠthe remote to the tv is on the coffee table and you can put it on whatever you want.â âReally?âŠfirst the buttons in the car andâŠnow the remote?â âIf itâs too much for you then thatâs fineâŠjust know itâs there if you feel like turning it on.â âYouâreâŠso not realâŠâ âI heard that.â
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What You Deserve Part 7.2: Up Late
Masterlist: Here
CW: Drunk ex, mentions of past toxic situations, suggestion of past violent behavior from ex bf
Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies @marshmallowgem @ang3lc @angelina16torres-blog @transparentenemypenguin @alilstressyandlotdepressy
A/N: I know we all want Eddie to come in and kick some ass but remember all Eddie cares about in this moment is making sure youâre okay, so enjoyâš
âHey sweetheartâŠIâm surprised youâre up this late on a work night.â âYeahâŠuhm I-â âAre you okay?â âUh yes? KindaâŠbut Iâm-â âwhere are you? Whatâs that noise in the background? Is thatâŠis thatâŠsomeone shoutingâŠ.your name?â âYes thatâs uhm..god this is so embarrassing I usually call Steven whenâŠhe does thisâŠbut heâs like half an hour away and he told me to call you and nowâŠnow-â âheyâŠitâs just me okay? Donât be embarrassedâŠjust tell me whatâs going on.â âWilliam..heâs my uhmâŠheâs my ex boyfriend and heâŠhe gets drunk andâŠand he shows up hereâŠand bangs on my door orâŠor one time he uh broke my uhmâŠmy living room window and he yells for meâŠand heâsâŠuhm here.â âIâm on my wayâŠwhere are you right now?â âI locked myself in my bedroom.â âGood stay there okay?â âDonât hang upâŠplease donât hang upâŠâ âIâm right hereâŠjust keep talking to me okay? What did you do today?â âI uhmâŠI painted my nailsâŠI switched shifts with Robin so I couldâŠuh be off Saturday morning.â âThatâs nice baby what color did you do your nails?â âPinkâŠoh no..I thinkâŠheâs kicking the door nowâŠwhat ifâŠwhat if he gets inâŠâ âheâs not going to get in sweetheart.â âHeâŠhe did this when we were together andâŠand he got inâŠand god he was so madâŠso mad at me andâŠand I donât wantâŠwhat happenedâŠthat night...to happen again.â âListen to meâŠhe is not getting into your houseâŠI wonât let him.â âAre you almost here?â âYes Iâm just about to be on your streetâŠjust a few more minutes okay?â âDonâtâŠdonât hurt himâŠplease.â âIâll do my best but Iâm not making any promises.â âIâm sorryâŠIâm so sorry-â âDonât apologize sweetheartâŠthis isnât your faultâŠand I will always come if you need me no matter how far away I am I will always find a way to get to you okay?â âGodâŠof course youâd say something like that.â âI canât help itâŠitâs the truth.â âThis is just a lot and we just met andâŠand Iâm just a mess Eddie and youâŠyou shouldnât have to see me like this.â âDonât cry babyâŠplease donât cry Iâm on your street and Iâll be there in less than two minutes okay? Start packing a bag for me can you do that?â âYesâŠIâŠI can do that.â âOkay goodâŠyouâll stay with me tonightâŠI just got into your driveway so Iâm going to hang up okay? Is that okay?â âThatâsâŠthatâs okayâŠyeah you can hang up.â âOne more thingâŠdonât look out your bedroom window please.â âWhy? YouâŠsaid you wouldnât hurt himâŠâ âI said Iâd do my best but just in case please donât lookâŠgo pack your bag sweetheart and Iâll see you in a minute.â âOkayâŠsee you in a minute.â
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The Nanny
Pairing: Father! Eddie Munson x reader
Warnings:
Summary: Years ago you and Eddie used to be friends. After you graduated, you two fell out of contact. After years of not speaking to each other, Eddie offers you a job you can't resist; be a nanny for his little girl.
*Not Proof Read*
******
" Rose! Where are you, Rose? " A loud voice shouts from one of the nearby isles. " Come on, this isn't funny anymore! "
A small black-haired blur shoots past my legs. Surprised, I stumble back and drop the handful of plastic bags I was putting away.
" What the fu- " I catch myself as my eyes land on a pair of wide brown eyes.
A little girl with dark curls stares up at me, watching every movement. A light giggle escapes the mouth of the toddler who's enjoying the chaos she's creating. She tightly hugs a well-worn bunny to her chest, her wild hair bouncing around as she waves up at me. " Hi! " She greets.
" Hi. " I greet back, a small smile crawling onto my face. " Are you Rose? "
The little girl shakes her head quickly. " No. " Her smile betrays her lie.
Over the register, I spot a figure dashing between the isles. The store's fluorescent lights bounce off of the man's black leather jacket.
" Well, not Rose, I think your daddy might be looking for you. "
The little girl shakes her head. "Nuh-uh. "
I chuckle slightly at her sassy attitude. " Well, how about this. If you come out from under the register, I'll give you this cool sticker. Does that sound good? " I show her a small roll of shiny animal stickers we keep for kids who come into the store.
The little girl ponders the offer. Finally, she agrees, crawling out from underneath the register. " Okay. "
I hand her a small sticker before turning towards a figure that comes out of the isles again. " I think you might be looking for this one. " I gesture down to the small child who's attempting to stick the sticker onto her shirt.
" Oh my god. Thank you so fucking much. " The man rushes over to us. He quickly snatches the kid up from the floor, holding her tightly against his chest. " That wasn't funny, Rose. You can't run away from Daddy like that. You almost gave me a heart attack. " The man lets out a sigh of relief as he presses a gentle kiss to the toddler's head.
Not aware of the stress she caused her dad, Rose proudly shows her sticker to her father. " Daddy look! " She giggles while sticking the small lion sticker onto her father's cheek.
" That's cool, baby. " The man mumbles. He still looks stressed out.
My eyes widen as I finally take in the man's appearance. His long curly hair nearly perfectly matches the little girls'. His hands are covered in rings, some more familiar than others. " Eddie? Eddie Munson? " I ask in shock.
The man snaps his head to me. " Yeah? " For a moment he looks slightly more tense. That quickly dies away as a flash of recognition takes over his features. " Oh myâŠY/N? "
I smile over at the man. " Yeah! Oh wow, it's beenâŠyears. "
Eddie returns to the smile. " YeahâŠhow-how have you been? I thought you moved out of Hawkins. The last thing I heard was that you moved to Chicago with your boyfriend. " Confusion takes over his expression.
I nod. " Well, I did. For a few years actually. Ben got a job at some firm in Chicago and we thought it would be easier for me to move with him instead of doing the whole long-distance thing. About two years into living out there Ben got the bright idea of sleeping with his assistant and we broke up. " I shift uncomfortably at the memories.
The last thing you do is walk in on your boyfriend fucking his new assistant. long-term. It's not a fun thing to deal with.
Sympathy flashes through Eddie's eyes. " Oh shoot, that sucks. I'm sorry. "
I shrug. " It is what it is. We were moving too fast. I shouldn't have moved with him. I was so eager to leave this place I didn't think about how things could go wrong. " I don't want to turn this into a pity party. " It seems like a lot's happened with you the past few years. " I gesture to the wiggly child in his arms.
Eddie glances down at Rose. " Yeah. It's been a little crazy. " He laughs. " Corroded Coffin ended up taking off and we started traveling around. " Eddie's tone goes silly as he gently pokes the tip of his daughter's nose, sending her into a fit of giggles. " Then this one came along and here we are. "
" I heard about your band! That's amazing, I mean you guys deserve it. I remember seeing your shows at the hideout. You guys know how to entertain an audience. "
Eddie's smile widens. " Thanks. We try. "
There's a moment of silence as memories of the past seem to fill both of our minds.
Memories of how our friendship started in middle school and began to fade after I graduated and Eddie failed his first senior year. How we went from hanging out almost daily to barely managing once a week during DnD. It wasn't either of our faults. Right? We were bound to grow apart at some point. I mean, I was in college and Eddie was still in High school. Suddenly getting by with cramming for tests the night before wasn't cutting it. Suddenly I needed to put in more work to earn the grades I wanted and needed. And then Ben came around and our weekly hang outs basically fizzled out. We were lucky to hang out once a month.
Ben just easily got jealous and I didn't want to stir the pot. We had something good. Or at least I thought.
" Can I ask you something? " Eddie's voice drags me out of my thoughts.
" Yeah. Go for it. " I say, moving towards the register. I begin to wipe down the machine, trying to keep myself from getting sad over the way our friendship ended. I'd spent enough nights with regrets bouncing around my mind, I don't need to spend a day on it too.
" Why are you here? "
I glance back at the man. " What do you mean? "
Eddie nods towards the store. " Why are you working at Danny's Grocery? Weren't you planning on becoming a teacher or something? "
My heart drops at the question. That had always been the plan. But things change. Sometimes plans don't always work out. " When I moved back to Hawkins I had 100 dollars to my name. When I was with Ben I got too comfortable. I'd always planned on going back to school and finishing my degree but something always happened. My records didn't come in on time for me to apply for the upcoming season or my dad died. Something always delayed it and eventually, I just pushed it off. When we broke up I used everything I saved up to get back here. I don't make enough to pay my way through school and afford rent, food, bills, whatever. I've tried getting multiple jobs but I just can't seem to land one that doesn't pay barely minimum wage. " I let out a small sigh in frustration. " I'm gonna go back to school eventually, I just need to get my sh-sorry, life together first. Save up a little. " I glance over at Rose, hoping she didn't hear my slip-up.
Eddie is silent for a moment. I feel his gaze on my face which makes me shift slightly.
" I have an idea. " He begins. " I've been looking for a live-in nanny for Rose for my upcoming tour. I just haven't found anyone I trust yet. I'll pay for everything. Your room, your food, tickets. I'll also pay you to watch Rose. "
My eyes widen. " What? "
" Is 50 an hour good? " Eddie's voice is serious.
" Oh my-Eddie! $50 dollars an hour? That's- I can't take that much money from you. On top of paying for my room and everythingâŠthat's too much. " I shake my head in disbelief.
$50 dollars an hour?!
" My kid is important to me. I'm going to pay good to make sure she's taken care of. AndâŠI trust you. I mean, you've always been good with kids. "
That's true. I used to babysit Dustin Henderson and a bunch of the other local kids all the time.
" But $50 is insane. " I say, still in disbelief of his offer.
Eddie shakes his head. " It's not that bad. I promise. I wouldn't be offering if I couldn't afford it. "
Corroded Coffin really must've taken off. I should keep up with the news more.
" Please, Y/N. You'd be doing me a huge favor. I've spent months trying to find a replacement nanny and I only have a few weeks until we leave for tour again. I can't leave Rose by herself. " Eddie's eyes are filled with hope.
Should I do this?
The money is tempting. I could do so much with money like that. I could finally move out of my aunt's basement.
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What You Deserve Part 7.1: Not Okay
Masterlist: Here
CW: Drunk ex, mentions of violent behavior, language and donât read if youâre not comfortable with the brief mentions of past abusive type of situations
Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies @marshmallowgem @ang3lc @angelina16torres-blog @transparentenemypenguin @alilstressyandlotdepressy
A/N: This part and the next one are on the more difficult side, I wrote them from my own experience. I think itâs important to know what exactly youâve been/are going through with your ex, itâs short but I hope yall still enjoy itâš
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Does Steven get the inside scoop on all the gossip about Sugar Daddy!Eddie? Heâs such a good friend to us đ„°
Hiii babes!! Oh he 1000% gets the scoop on whatâs going on between you and Eddie, Iâll give you a little conversation between the two of you! I hope you enjoy, also yes Steve is literally the best I love himđ„čđ
-Find all things What You Deserve hereâš
âSoâŠhowâs it going with your new daddy?â âSteven!â âOuch no need to hit meâŠdoes he know you have a violent streak? Have you hit him yet?â âI do not have a violent streak youâre just annoying.â âWhateverâŠ.but really howâs it going? Iâve watched him drop you off and pick you up from this shit hole all weekâŠso that must mean things are good?â âYeah heâs giving me rides to and from work until heâs finished fixing Dave.â âHeâs fixing Dave? Why? I thought he was like way past the point of saving?â âHeâs fixing him becauseâŠwellâŠI asked him to as part of our agreementâŠI said he had to fix Dave for me.â âYou told him to fix Dave?âŠwhy wouldnât you just let him buy you a new car?â âI canât ask him for a new car Steven thatâs rude.â âRude? Heâs your sugar daddy he is literally there to buy you shitâŠand youâre just asking for him to fix up your old car and buy you iced coffee? He could be doing so much more for you.â âItâs been like ten days I canât just ask for things that quicklyâŠitâll make me look-â âMake you look what?â âNeedy orâŠlike greedy? I donât know Iâm just notâŠready to ask him to buy me something yetâŠespecially a new car when you know how I feel about Dave.â âAt least tell me you let him pay for your dinner last Friday? Because if you tell me you spilt the bill Iâm going to fire you as his sugar baby and take over the job myself so he can feel like a real sugar daddy.â âDo you want to be his sugar baby?â âDonât ignore the questionâŠâ âwell yeah he paidâŠit was a date so of course I let him pay.â âIt was a date? So you two are dating?â âUh wellâŠI think so? He asked if he could call meâŠuhmâŠhis.â âHis what?â âJustâŠhis.â âOh likeâŠhe asked if he could call you mine? Thatâs how it was worded?â âExactlyâŠand I said sure and he also mightâve said I could call him my uhmâŠboyfriend ifâŠI wanted to.â âWait wait waitâŠyou can call him your boyfriend?â âIf I wantâŠ.yeah.â âDo you want to call him your boyfriend?â âMaybeâŠin the future?â âHave you twoâŠdoneâŠanythingâŠya knowâŠuhm scandalous?â âWeâve held hands.â âAnd?â âAnd it was nice?â âYou havenât kissed?â âNo and thatâs the thingâŠIâm not sure how to bring that up to him? Because I know how uhmâŠmostâŠof these situations work and so farâŠhe hasnât made any moves on me.â âThatâs because heâs a gentlemanâŠand youâre used to assholes.â âThatâsâŠtrue but still isnât it odd?â âJust talk to him about it? Iâm sure if you want him to start uhâŠmaking moves on you he will.â âI donât want to make him feel weird or anything.â âListenâŠEddie isnât like most guysâŠheâs respectful and Iâm sure if you just ask him about how he wants you to return the favor when heâŠspends money on youâŠhe will explain it and from there you can tell him what youâre comparable with and whatâs totally off the table.â âYeahâŠI guess itâs just a conversation thatâs no matter what is going to be awkward so might as well get it over with.â âExactlyâŠbut can you do me a favor?â âIâm not asking him to buy you anything.â âOh come onâŠIâm the one who set you two up I deserve somethingâŠpreferably something that tells the time and comes in a box that says Rolex butâŠIâm not picky.â âYou know Rolex doesnât make a digital watch right?â âI know how to read a clockâŠI got the time wrong one time and youâll never let me forget it will you?â âNope.â
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Watershed Moments || part I
Masterlist Part II || ao3
Eddie Munson x Reader || E 18+
[demi!Eddie x 'tomboy'/gender-nonconforming!bi!reader]
childhood best friends to lovers, no Upside Down, canon divergent
Words: 3.8k
Series Summary:
Watershed Moment is a term most people use for big events. Such events that mark historical turning points of great significance and shape the course of humanity; events that cause the printing presses of the world to run hot and make it from the front pages of newspapers into history books for the following generations to study.
Opening the passenger door of Eddieâs van on a rainy Friday evening is exactly that.
You're in love with your best friend.
How many of those pivotal moments have there been in the past decade that have led you to this point? And what happens now?
Themes/Warnings for this chapter | pls check Masterlist for general tags:
||fluff, pining, angst, hurt/comfort, implied/non-graphic domestic abuse, child abuse: physical and mental, child neglect, dysfunctional family dynamics||
large parts of the fic will take place in the characters teenage years
A/N: I wrote this almost a year ago then got very precious about it and stopped in fear of fucking it up. I've decided to release it into the world before the layer of dust gets so thick that I can't find my way back to it anymore. Around half of it is already written in various states. This is a queer story at heart, even though you might not find it in explicit terms we'd use today to label and describe things.
Friday the 8th of May 1987
The music announces his arrival.
It always does.
Itâs the reason you leave your window ajar whenever youâre expecting him; no matter the time of day, no matter the weather.
The faint notes of shrieking guitars slowly turn into recognizable music as you slip on your shoes and look for your keys. Going by his choice of song, he must be in a good mood and so you descend down the stairs in a hurry to meet him.
Heâs picking you up to go see a movie like he had done countless times before.
You hook your fingers under the door handle, the metal smooth from years of doing so, and pull, rousing the familiar creeeeek of the hinges, expecting to get into the car with the boy who had been your best friend for over a decade, and suddenly find yourself staring into the face of the man you love.
Just like that.
There is a dip in the cushion of the passenger seat, perfectly molded to your ass and right there, he had placed a gift for you.
âSurprise,â he says with a smile that melts the sidewalk under your feet, gesturing at the book thatâs waiting for you but there is nothing on this planet, or any, other that could bring you to pull your eyes away from his at this very moment.
You see him almost every day, had seen him not quite twenty-four hours ago, had talked to him on the phone this morning and it had been the same as always; he was Eddie.
 Your Eddie.
And as you hold on to the door, waiting for the world to stop spinning so violently that you fear it could launch you into outa space, you realize that nothing about that had changed and still nothing was the same.
Just like that.
Eddie tilts his head, one hand still gripping the steering wheel, the other waving.
âSquash calling pumpkin, do you copy?â Eddie says in a deep, silly voice and the sweet sound of your childhood nicknames brings your realization full circle.
You are in love with your best friend.
âA-affirmativeâŠâ
âAh, there you are. Will you get in here now? Youâre getting wet.â
Oh, if you only knew.
Heat rises to your cheeks as you climb into your seat, carefully taking the book into your hands like it held the secrets to the universe between its covers. You yank the passenger door close absentmindedly, the slam echoing as loud in your ears as your own heartbeat and you wait for Eddie to complain about it but he doesnât. Instead, you can sense him looking at you while you stare at the book in your lap.
And that really had been it, right?
What had made the truth about your feelings for Eddie hit you like a load of bricks; it was in the way he looked at you. In his giddy excitement to make you happy, his confidence that he absolutely would because he knew you so well and in the fact that you would look at him the same way if your roles were reversed.
That you do it all the time.
And just like that, it scares the shit out of you.
âH-howâŠâ you start, but fail to find the right question. Your voice sounds brittle to your ears.
But Eddie chuckles, moves in closer and puts his chin on your shoulder, just like he always does. As if his silly little gesture hadnât just changed both of your lives fundamentally and irrevocably.
âYou mean,â he clears his throat and puts on an impersonation of your voice thatâs infuriatingly remarkable. âOh, Eddie, my precious Eddie, how did you get your brilliant and highly skilled hands on the new Stephen King novel that came out just two days ago?â His breath against your neck is warm and you just know that heâs pursing his lips in a silly grin.
âYeah, that,â you swallow and then you give him what heâs after. A smile. Because no matter how flustered you are, you just canât help it. âAnd I donât sound like that.â
âOohhh yes, you do,â he croons and the bass in his words vibrates through your bones where itâs already part of your marrow. You want to turn your head and kiss him. âItâs adorable,â he says and sits up, leaning back into his seat.
You huff out a laugh. âDo you compliment yourself in my voice a lot when Iâm not around?â
âSomething has to get me through the dreadful hours of the day where I have no access to your praise.â
Itâs casual when he says things like that, and while Eddie starts the car and pulls into the street, you try to remember if it ever made you feel like combusting before.
Of course it had. All the time.
âRick had some business in Indianapolis and I asked him to get me a copy,â Eddie explains into the silence, glancing over at you. âSeatbelt, pumpkin.â
âYou⊠you didnât have to do thisâŠâ you say instead of Thank you, Squashboy! instead of Youâre the fucking best, Munson! instead of any of those soft things you would have thrown at him without hesitation just ten minutes ago and put on your seatbelt as he ordered, hoping he wouldnât smell your confusion like the emotional bloodhound he was around you.
But Eddie laughs. âAnd listen to you whine about it until Hawkinsâ dusty olâ bookstore catches up with the modern world? Yeah, fat chance.â
âIt would just have been a few weeks⊠topsâŠâ
âA few weeks too many of seeing you mope. Iâm not strong enough for that shit.â
You open the book on the first page to occupy your hands, which are begging to be buried in Eddie's hair, with something safe but, oh, the endeavor fails horribly because, of course, he left you a note inside and you should have expected it. Your fingertips trace over the familiar flow of Eddieâs handwriting with an infinite tenderness thatâs meant for his cheeks.
for my little monster,
can't wait for you to read this to me.
    - your doctor
             E.
âIf you want to,â he adds softly.
I want to whisper every word of it into your mouth.
âThis is the second book of the series, remember?⊠You wouldnât understand a thing.â
âIncorrect,â he says solemnly, stops the car at a red light and almost jumps into your face with an open, all-teeth smile. âSurprise!â
âYou⊠you read the first book?â
âCorrect!â he bites his lip, excitement tugging at his cheeks. Heâs so close. You could just lean in to taste him and for a moment you think that maybe heâs waiting for you to do so as he hovers there, big brown eyes roaming your face until a cacophony of horns pulls him away from you. âFuckers,â he mumbles as he starts the car again and picks up the conversation where heâd left it: âAnd lo and behold: I liked it.â
âReally?â
âYeah,â he chuckles. âI know, I know⊠Iâve given you speeches about why King doesnât do it for me and all but you kept gushing about this Gunslinger book and how different it is andâŠâ Eddie shrugged, âI thought I should give it a chance aaand it turned out you were right about it.â
Youâre everything.
How did I miss this?
And what does it mean that I did?
âHey, uh, are you alright?â he throws several quick glances at you, brows drawn together; all the joy, all the mirth gone.
Just like that.
Donât you fucking hurt him!
âWhy?â
âWhy?â Now itâs a full-on frown. âWell, youâre⊠quiet. Which, you know, is totally fine with me generally, but I just told you, uh, that I read your favorite book and liked it after being a grump about it for months andââ
âEddie?â A sigh.
âY-yeah?â
âWanna skip the movie, go to your place and start this?â you say softly, holding up the book. âMaybe get some snacks on our way?â
No hesitation.
âHold on!â he cheered and you know that voice and that frantic look over his shoulder andâ
âOh no!â you huff as you scramble to clutch at something. âNo nono noâŠâ
 âthen the U-Turn thumps you against the door while Eddie laughs like heâs fueled on pure adrenaline.
âFucking hell, Munson, slow down,â you shout over the wild cackling and he does. âIf you kill us before I finished that series Iâll whip your ass!â
âDonât threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,â he says with a grin and your pulse speeds up; eight little words and your rabbit heart races faster than from the prospect of possible death caused by Eddieâs poor impulse control. You watch him in awe as he forces himself to calm down, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, head bopping to their rhythm. âThat was fun.â
âYeah,â you try to sound distraught. âSuch fun that youâre taking years off my life every time you do shit like that, you maniac!â
âBut Iâm giving them back to you by making you laugh. So it doesnât count.â
***
1976
It was the October of your eleventh Halloween when the Munsons moved into the ground-floor apartment.
You just bought the first pumpkin of the season and couldnât wait to spend the rest of the day drafting out a spooky design to carve into the tough orange flesh.
Impatient to start, you burst through the door and were halfway up the first landing when you saw the skinny lanky boy fumble with a box that looked way too heavy for his frame if the strain of the muscles in his arms was anything to go by.
Spinning around, his eyes were wide and alert, maybe even afraid, before he saw you on the stairs, relaxed a little and turned away to get on with opening the door.
âHere, Iâll help you,â you said, placed your pumpkin on the floor and rushed to his side.
âN-no, tâs alright, I'm⊠I got itââ His words were swallowed by a loud thump as the boy swayed, barely saving the box from tumbling to the ground by wedging it between the door and his skinny chest.
âDonât looks like it,â you quipped, ready to snatch his key to assist whenâ
âWhat the fuck are you banging against that door?â
â the door disappeared in a blur and a big angry man appeared in its place. The boy barely caught his balance before the box could slip again.
âSorry Dad, sorry I didnâtââ
âInside, Eddie!â
Eddieâs head whipped around to you, face scrunched in worry, his skin had turned a pale grey and you were sure to see the faint yellow remnants of a bruise high up on his cheek.
âEddie!â he snarled and without another word Eddie pushed past his father, his backlit silhouette vanishing through a door on the left in a small hallway.
âWho are you?â the man almost barked at you.
Refusing to sound afraid, you introduced yourself. âMy family lives on the second floor - welcome to the neighborhood, MisterâŠ?â
âMunson,â he said briskly, but less angry and held out a large sweaty hand for you to shake. You did with reluctance. âPolite of you to swing by and say hello but weâre busy here, so if you donât mind.â And with that, he closed the door.
You didnât mind. You didnât mind one bit.
WellâŠ
âOh,â your mother said when you told her everything, still heaving from running up the stairs like you were on fire. âBut the boy probably just fell off his bike. You know how boys are, honey, donât you?â
Suddenly, there was an itch in your own scraped knees; somewhat of a guilty sensation that added confusion to the upset.
âIâm sure thereâs nothing to worry about,â she added with a thin smile.
And you wanted to believe her, wanted to believe her so badly but your mother hadnât seen the look in the boyâs - Eddieâs - eyes when you startled him.
--
Those same eyes were faintly red and a little puffy when you answered the knock at the door half an hour later.
âHi,â Eddie said in a jolly tone that only increased your confusion. âYou forgot your pumpkin.â
âOh shit!â You hugged the pumpkin to your chest like you were reunited with a friend and glimpsed a first faint preview of that blinding smile you would eventually come to love so much on Eddieâs face. âThank you, Eddie.â
âHow do you know my name?â
âYour, uhm, father called you that.â
âRight,â he swallowed, smile snuffing out like a candle. âRight.â
There was a silence filled with a thousand questions your mother would deem inappropriate to ask a stranger so you settled for an apology.
âSorry, if I got you in trouble.â
âWhat?â Eddie drew his head back, frowning. âNo, no. You didnât, no trouble at all. Dad âs justâ you know, stressed with the moving.â
âOkaââ
âHave to get going now,â he laughed hollowly and backed away, âso much left to do.â
âSee you around, Eddie,â you could only call after him as he hurried down the stairs, his reply echoing back up to you.
âSee you around, pumpkin.â
But you didnât see Eddie around much. Not at home and not at school either. He was a year above your grade - you figured that out soon enough - but it almost seemed like he was skipping about half the week on a regular basis. The few times you met him sneaking through the house like a shy cat, he was covered in grease or paint, carrying himself like a man who came home at the end of a fifty-hour workweek. He never talked much, never asked for your name, always called you Pumpkin.
You, however, saw a lot of Mr Munson; going in and out the building several times a day, often in the company of equally grim-looking men, sometimes with a woman with big brown eyes which gave her away as Eddieâs mother even before she introduced herself to you. She had wonderful long brown hair and you asked yourself if Eddieâs buzzed scalp would sprout in this deep wavy brown or his fatherâs dirty blond if he was to let it grow out.
You also heard Mr Munson. A lot. Especially at night, and a few weeks in, your parents started to doubt that Eddie and his mother were simply on the clumsy side.
--
Halloween finally arrived and you proudly placed your final piece of fine pumpkin craftsmanship out the front door, waiting for your father to come down to light the candles like you did every year.
âHey, Wednesday.â
You turned towards the open door and Eddie slowly peeled out of the shadows of the hallway, hands behind his back and a careful smile on his face. His voice was soft and timid. The next time you would hear him talk, it had already started to break.
âEddie,â you smiled and tilted your head. âYou watch the Addams Family?â
âDuh,â he said and fully stepped into the beam of light falling into the hallway. âLooks, uh, nice⊠the costume, I mean⊠self-made?â
âYeah, my mother helped me make it. What are you going as?â
One hand left his back as he bowed his head and scratched his scalp. âMâ not⊠allowed to. Dad thinks itâs⊠a waste of time⊠and silly.â
âShit,â you mumbled, an awkward silence fell between you. âUhm, what would you choose? If you were allowed?â
âHuh?â his face lit up slightly as he entertained the thought. âFrodo, I think.â
âWhoâs that?â
âWhoâs⊠whoâs Frodo?â The disbelieve in his eyes was comical, almost theatric. âThat part of your Wednesday act? Making cruel jokes and shit?â
âWhat are you talking about?â you chuckled and raised your hands to the sky in an equal amount of theatrics.
âThe Lord of The Rings? Never heard of that?â
âOh, yeah, but never read it or anything... my mom thinks itâs not appropriate⊠for a girl.â
âShit,â he huffed. âAnd I thought my life was sadâŠâ And what was meant as a joke, darkened his face like an eclipse, pulled his gaze away from you and into the distance before he shook his head to chase it away. âI, uhm, was wondering⊠I made a thing? For, uh⊠you know?â he pointed his chin at the decorations lined up beside the doorstep.
âOh!â you called out in excitement. âThatâs what youâre keeping behind your back?â
âUh, yeahâŠâ he pinched his eyes shut. âPromise you wonât laugh?â
âNo,â you said and Eddie cracked open one terrified eye. âIf itâs funny, Iâll laugh! Youâll just have to join meâŠâ
âUhm, uuhâŠâ
âLetâs seeeee!â
âOkay, okay, JesusâŠâ Eddie took a deep breath and revealed his work with slightly trembling hands you chose to ignore for his sake. It was a butternut squash and Eddie had carved a swarm of bats into the surface.
âOh!â you said again but this time in awe.
âI know itâs not⊠good or anything, not like yours and I think I got the wrong kind of, uh, pumpkin because, like⊠you canât get a candle in thereâ stupid thing âs like solid fucking concrete and I get it when you donât want it out hereââ
âAre you insane? This is so good!â you stopped him and snatched the squash from his hands.
âWait, really?â
âUh-hn,â you turned it around to take in every little last bat. âMust have taken you forever⊠butternut squash really is tough!â
âThatâs what itâs called?â he said, rubbing the back of his head, a deep blush tinting his whole face bright red. âHad no ideaâŠâ
You stepped to the side, already busy figuring out how to rearrange the display to integrate the squash. âWe just pick one out together next year⊠if you want. I can show you the right ones.â
âNah, donïżœïżœt want to bother you⊠itâs fine.â
Hunkering on the ground, your white thighs forgotten, you paused and looked up at Eddie in genuine confusion. âWhy would you bother me?â
âI⊠donât⊠dunnoâŠâ
The squash was in the perfect place and you stood up, dusted off your hands on the back of your black skirt and put a careful hand on Eddieâs shoulder. âItâs cool, Squashboy, really.â
âIâŠâ Eddieâs face went through a plethora of emotions in seconds but he settled on a silly grin. âDid you just call me, Squashboy?â
âWould you prefer your Squashness? Or⊠uhmm⊠Lord of the Squash?â tâs a bit of a mouth full but if you insistâŠâ
âShut up,â Eddie threw his head back and laughed; it was loud and wild and echoed through the staircase. âThatâs sooo stupid.â
There were footsteps coming from inside as someone was descending the stairs and next to you, Eddie turned into cold hard stone.
âTâs probably just my dad,â you tried to comfort him, sure you knew what this meant by now. âHeâs coming to light the candles.â
The steps grew louder and Eddieâs skin was this awful shade of grey again.
âEddie? Are you oââ
âI have to go,â he gritted out through his teeth, turned and hurried down the street in jerky steps.
âHey honey,â your father said, appearing in the doorframe but you were still looking after the skinny boy in the too-big clothes rushing down the street, a thick knot in your chest. âIs that the Munson boy?â your fatherâs voice was casual, but not casual enough.
You looked up into a frown. âWhatâs wrong?â
âHm?⊠Oh, nothing. Just got lost in thought for a second.â He finally looked down at you again, clapping his hands together. âIâm here to light some candles.â
What usually was one of your favorite rituals on Halloween was clouded by that awful shadow that kept creeping over Eddieâs face again and again. You decided to share your loot of candy with him when you came back; it wasnât much but it was something. Youâd just have to wait until Mr M was out of the house or whatever, but you could think about that later.
But when you came back home, Eddie was gone.
Nobody was telling you anything but after one week of lurking around adults when they didnât pay attention gave you enough to piece it together.
There had been a fight. A bad fight and your father finally called the police. It took two deputies to get Mr Munson out of the house and into the back of a police car. Deputy Hopper gave him a good kick in the back of his knee to help him the rest of the way. Nobody on the block had seen that occur though, should anybody come around to ask. When the dust had settled down a little, Mrs Munson was nowhere to be found, so Deputy Hopper came back to collect Eddie.
The Munsonâs rent had been paid for all through the next week and in the middle of that week, you saw a tall man whose features reminded you of Mr Munson carrying a big box out of the front door of your building. He crammed it into the back of a car already filled with other stuff and drove away before you could take a look at the front to see if Eddie was on board.
A few days later, men in blue overalls came to clear the rest of the ground-floor apartment. You lingered on the first-floor landing, observing a familyâs life getting ripped out of this house like a rotten tooth from a jaw. When the blue men went outside for a smoke, you slipped inside. There wasnât much left of what made a home a home; a potted plant, some kitchenware andâ a breeze moved the curtains in the main room ever so slightly but enough for you to spot a little figurine hidden in the far corner of the windowsill. A small man with a knobbly nose and dirty feet.
You took it home with you.
And when one day you saw the tall man who looked a little like Mr. Munson from your window, you almost jumped in front of his car to make sure Frodo finally made it back to Eddie. That was what the other Mr. Munson called the little guy.
âI canât believe it,â Eddieâs uncle rasped, âbeen lookinâ for this guy all over town⊠thought the clean-up crew dropped it off at some thrift store or church with the other stuff or somethinâ. Thought he was gone for good.â
âTell Eddie I said hi,â you beamed. âAnd that I saved him some candy.â
general taglist:
@bettyfrommars @dr-aculaaa @deathbecomesthem @songforeddiemunson @raccoonboywrites @jo-harrington @lunatictardis @skrzydlak @moonbeamsandmayhem @slutforstabbings @eddieslooneymoonie @chaoticgood-munson @storiesbyrhi @mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @thecapricunt1616 @allthingsjoeq
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After the kiss you can't forget about, your past and present with Eddie collide under the glow of the city lights and the glittering stars at the City Beats launch party.
Masterlist Listen to Clumsy Here
What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago. Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Mentions of DV. Smut Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.
WC: 11646 beta'd by @superblysubpar
âStop being such a baby and just let me look.â
The light in Eddieâs bathroom buzzes with a slight flicker, casting a pallid tint over the worn linoleum and water-stained sink.
âI donât recall anyone asking for your services here, Florence Nightingale,â Eddie grumbles, perched on the edge of the vanity with a blood-soaked washcloth pressed against his forehead. The knuckles on his right hand are swollen and split, and the scrape along his jaw is already turning colors.Â
You pour a little iodine on a cotton ball you grabbed from the first-aid kitâ the one your dad made you keep in your car for emergencies, though this probably isnât what he had in mind. âWho else is going to patch you up?â you question, shifting until youâre standing in the space between his spread legs.
With a sigh, he lowers the washcloth and tosses it into the sink. Blood wells up in the gash above his brow, the skin around it swollen and purple. As gently as possible, you dab around the cut with cotton.
âOww.â He winces and leans away. âThat shit stings.â
"Sorry." You push up on your tippy toes, drawing closer, one hand resting on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. The scent of his apple shampoo tickles your nose as his hand moves to your hip, anchoring you. You purse your lips and blow gently over his wound to soothe the sting. His chest expands with a sharp intake of breath.
"Better?" you whisper, a flood of butterflies taking flight within you. His fingers press tighter into your skin, your shirt inching upward, eliminating the barrier between his touch and your warmth.Â
"Yeah." His throat bobs, his gaze roaming your face.
âAre you going to tell me what happened?âÂ
His grip on you loosens as his eyes fall away.
You pick up one of the butterfly strips, pulling back the adhesive tabs. âYou said you werenât going to do anything. I asked you not to.âÂ
The faucet drips into the cracked tub as you press the strip into place. âIt was my choice to end things, Eddie. It didnât feelâŠit wasnât going to go anywhere.â
He grabs your fingers, holding them away. âThen maybe you shouldnât have been running around with him in the first place.â
The anger in his tone has you stepping back until you can feel the towel bar pressing into your shoulders. He stands and faces away from you, shaking his head.
âSo what? Iâm a slut now?â Your voice is small in the cramped space, bouncing off half-filled bottles of shampoo and shaving cream. Maybe you shouldnât have told him about losing your virginity to Parker Hayes in the backseat of his momâs Chevy last weekend. But thatâs something you tell your best friend, right? Eddie has certainly never shied away from sharing his sexual exploits with you. Maybe, deep down, you had been hoping for some kind of reaction, but not this.Â
âNo.â His shoulders slump as he turns to face you, the hardness in his stance softening. âI don't think that way,â he explains, his voice growing gentler, âand I'd never think that about you. I want you to date. I want you to have everything. I just want toâŠâ The rest of the sentence dies in his throat as a familiar shadow falls over his eyes, dimming their warmth. âI guess this is what happens when you're friends with a chick,â he chuckles.
âMight have been easier if Gareth had moved down the street instead of me.â You switch gears to match his tone, a familiar move after all this time.
âYeah, youâre a pain in the ass,â he says, attempting a smile that doesnât quite make it to his eyes. âSpeaking of Gareth, I got a thing.â His gaze drops to his wrist, but heâs never worn a watch. âLock up when you leave, alright?âÂ
You're still standing in his bathroom when the front door clicks closed.Â
Your hands smooth down the skirt of your long-sleeved mini-dress. Its modest front sits elegantly at your collarbone, but the backâyou twist your head to check the mirror behind youâthe back dramatically plunges to just above the curve of your ass.
âWow.â Steve stands stopped in his tracks at the entrance of your walk-in closet, his eyes drinking you in. âYou look like a sunset.â He moves behind you, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of your shoulder as his hand slides over the rose gold sequins covering your dress.Â
âYouâre not too shabby yourself, handsome.â You turn to get the full effect of his designer camel-striped suit with a bright mustard tie. âI always like you in yellow,â you tell him, running a finger down the cool silk.Â
His smile widens as he grips your hips, spinning you back towards the mirror, wrapping his arms around your middle. âWe should do this more often,â he says, holding your gaze in the reflection.
âWhat?â you ask, crossing your arms over his. âLaunch streaming radio services?â
âNo, smart ass.â His lips find your temple. âGet dressed up like this and go out. With everyone coming, do you know what it reminds me of?â
âDare I ask?â You flutter your lashes.Â
His grip on you tightens in a deliberate firmness that has you tensing. He steals another kiss, pausing for a moment before saying, âProm.â
âUck,â you moan, stepping out of his arms and moving to the island to pick up a pair of earrings. âYour parents went to prom? How sad.â
âCome on. Not them.â He shoves his hands in his pants pockets, his gaze tracking your movements. âEveryone else, though. Didnât you have fun at prom?â
âI donât remember,â you shrug, attaching the diamond to your lobe.
âOf course not. How stupid of me,â his tone drips sarcasm as he shakes his head, âHow could I have forgotten about your Hawkins amnesia.â
The shrill melody of his ringtone sounds from the bedroom, pulling him away before words can escalate. Lately, high school memories seem to invade every conversation, leaving a residue of guilt that clings tighter with each mention. Alone, you face the mirror, taking a steadying breath. Heâs under a lot of pressure. This is his night. You plaster a smile on your face, forcing a semblance of calm. You owe him.
With a final glance, you slip on a nude pair of heels and move to the bedroom to let him know you're ready. Steveâs phone is discarded on the bed beside him, where he sits with slumped shoulders and his hands raking through the hair he had just spent time styling.Â
âBaby?â You keep your voice soft as you sit down next to him, your hand moving to rub circles on his back. âWhatâs going on?â
He glances up, only now becoming aware of your presence. "It's my parents," he murmurs, his lashes fluttering with rapid blinks as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "They've decided not to come."
âWhat? But theyâre at the hotel.â Your mind races over the possibilities, âAre they okay? Did something happen?â
âYeah, my dad ran into a client. Thatâs what happened.â Steve's voice hardens, taking on a bitter edge as he echoes his father's words, âBusiness is business, Steve. You understand, donât you, son?âÂ
âIâm sorry, Steve,â you say in a near whisper, covering his hand with yours.
âItâs my fault. I didnât really want them here, you know? But when I dropped by the hotel this afternoon with the tickets, my dad actually seemed proud of me for once. Fuck. I feel so dumb for getting excited.â He pulls his hand from yours to tug at the messy strands falling over his brow before his eyes find yours again. âDid I ever tell you about my baseball coach in middle school?â
âNo,â you shake your head, shifting on the bed to move even closer beside him, offering what comfort you can.
âCoach Patterson.â His eyes fall to his lap. âHe tried talking to him once when he dropped me off for a game. He told him that it would mean a lot if heâd stayed and watched me play. But DadâŠâ Steve's voice falters, âHe just looks at me and says, âI've got better things to do than watch you lose.ââ
âSteve-â
His eyes bore into yours, filling your chest with an ache. âThe thing is, we did win, but he still never stayed. He didnât believe in me. I guess he still doesnât.â
His phone screen brightens with an incoming call, and he picks it up, silencing it with a push of a button. âI've poured everything I have into this, trying to be perfect, what theyâwhat everyoneâexpects me to be.â The frustration builds in his voice,âBut no matter how hard I try, it'll never be enough. Not for them. And maybe... not for you either.â
You cradle his larger hand between yours, wishing he could see himself through your eyes. âYouâve always been enough.â
âI want to give you everythingââ
âSteve, stop. You canât live for other people. Pursue this because it brings you fulfillment, not for anyone else. Think about everything your dad has given your mom. Do you think itâs made them happy?â
He pulls his hand from yours, a fleeting shadow crossing his features as his gaze drifts to some distant point in the room. âIâd never treat you the way he treats her.âÂ
âThatâs right.â Gently, you cup his face, your thumbs brushing lightly against his jaw, coaxing his gaze back to you. âYouâre better than him. And if he canât see that or celebrate your wins, thatâs his shortcoming. Tonight is going to go off without a hitch, and Richard is going to thank his lucky stars for having the good sense to have assigned you City Beats.â
Leaning in, you press a soft, deliberate kiss to his lips. âYou deserve your success.â His hand rises to cover yours, and your face softens into a smile. âNow, can we go? I need you to dance with me during the slow songs. Iâll even let you pretend weâre at prom.âÂ
The corners of his mouth rise, his chuckle warming the space between you as he leans in, your foreheads touching gently. âWhat would I do without you, Ace?â The words are gentle as his lips seek out yours. A car horn blares from the street below, breaking the moment. âI think our driver is getting antsy.â
âWell then, handsome,â you say, a gentle determination in your voice as you smooth out an imaginary crease on his jacket. âLetâs go to a party.âÂ
Dozens of spotlights pierce the night, illuminating the iconic Adler Planetarium. Limos and sleek cars roll up, dropping off the whoâs who of the cityâcelebrities, influential politicians, and tech mogulsâonto the red carpet-lined stairs. Banners emblazoned with the City Beats logo wave from the art deco building's great dome, set against the dark waters of the lake and the distant city lights.Â
âWow,â you breathe as Steve takes your hand and helps you out of the car. The magnitude of the moment takes over. Now itâs your turn to be impressed. âBaby, you did all this!âÂ
Steveâs signature smirk takes over his face, his cheeks tinting with a flush from your compliment. A camera flash pops in your face as you step out onto the red carpet. With a deep breath, you tighten your hold on his hand. The PR team's efforts have paid off. Photogs from all over the city and national publications line the step and repeat. The air is a blend of lake chill and expensive perfumes as you await your turn to be photographed. Steveâs reassuring hand, firm along your ribs, holds you steady as the flashes blind you. His gaze drops to yours, brimming with unmistakable pride, lending you his confidence. A quick squeeze of his hand coaxes a genuine smile as you face the cameras together.
âNot used to being on this side,â you murmur, keeping your teeth on display under the relentless flashes.
He chuckles, drawing you forward. âYou're a natural,â he whispers, guiding you to the entrance with a hand at your back.
As you step into the grand foyer, your name being called pierces the hum of conversations. Rihanna waves from across the room, her manicured hand catching the light. She mouths âCall meâ before being swept away by her very tall date.
"Was thatâ" Steve asks, eyes widening.Â
"I interviewed her last year," you explain, returning her smile with your own as she navigates the crowd.Â
"Must have made an impression. That was the new point guard for the Chicago Bulls." His eyebrows raise as he watches them disappear into the throng of guests. Leaning in, his breath tickles your ear, âI donât think weâre in Hawkins anymore, Dorothy.â
Light laughter bubbles from your throat. âThanks, Toto,â you quip, threading your arm into the crook of his elbow, letting him lead you along.
Abstract designs mimicking sound waves, musical notes set into star patterns, and cosmic shapes elegantly adorn the solarium. The floor-to-ceiling windows extend the celestial theme, allowing for sweeping views of the night sky.Â
âFrom Skyline to Bassline: This is City Beats Streaming Radio.âÂ
The DJ's smooth voice transitions the songs playing through the speakers as they live-stream from a platform beside a wall of digital screens alive with a social media feed and a map showing millions of listeners around the world tuning in.Â
Steve lets go of your hand as heâs swarmed with department heads buzzing with reports and updates. You stand alone, crossing one hand over another as muted conversation hums under the beat of the music. The waitstaff weaves through the crowd, offering trays of fluted glasses brimming with bubbling champagne, and you gratefully accept a glass. Guests interact with kiosks exploring the different channels offered by City Beats, including specific music genres, news, and talk shows, while others move onto the themed lounges or drift out to the terrace for the small bites and views of the city.
âHarrington.â Richard's booming voice sends Steveâs staff scattering into the crowd. âEverything is looking just splendid, son.â He greets Steve with a firm handshake before his voice drops,âNow, how are those numbers?â
You look away, rolling your eyes out of view as you drain the rest of your glass. He canât give Steve five minutes of peace.Â
âAccording to sales, we are easily beating the first round of projections and are slated to hit our monthly target in the next hour.â Steveâs voice is filled with cool confidence, but his palm is damp when his fingers slip between yours.Â
âThatâs good to hear,â Richard says, the tightness in his expression easing as the redness circling his face begins to fade. He leans closer to Steve, his tone firm, âI don't think I need to remind you that Second City has a lot riding on this, which means you've got a lot riding on this.â
Steve's lips press together in a firm line as he stands a little taller and smooths a hand over his tie. Your teeth clamp down on the inside of your lip, forcing your silence.Â
A waiter glides to your side, stopping to collect your empty glass. You place your flute on his tray a touch too forcefully. The clink with the other glasses is louder than intended, breaking the moment. Richard straightens, his attention drawn to you for the first time. He steps back, the wheels turning behind his eyes as he tries to place you.
His manufactured grin returns as he claps Steve on the shoulder. âKeep up the excellent work, my boy. This is impressive.â He waves a hand, gesturing around the party, âI donât know what any of it is, but itâs impressive,â he laughs, expecting you to join him. When you only muster a weak smile, his laughter fades, replaced by a brief, awkward silence.
âIâm glad you brought the little lady with you tonight, Steve. She just gets prettier and prettier,â Richard continues, not missing a beat. âMy wifeâs around here somewhere, probably telling someone how to do their job,â he chuckles, then signals a waitress for more drinks. âMake sure you say hello. She loves gossiping with the other wives.â Handing you both a fresh glass, he adds, âNow, see to it our boy here doesn't work too hard, okay?â With a final pat on Steveâs shoulder and a wag of his finger in your direction, Richard moves off into the crowd.
Steve exhales quietly, the tension leaving his shoulders, as he gently squeezes your hand.
âI donât know how you stand him,â you fume, âHow many years have I worked here, and the bastard doesn't even recognize me.â
âTrust me, youâre better off not being on his radar,â Steve replies, downing his champagne in one go before passing the empty glass off to a passing waiter. âIâm sure heâs going to be on my ass when I meet with the investors.â
âBut itâs such a nice ass,â you grin over the rim of your glass, letting the bubbles tickle your lips.
His eyes gleam as he leans in a little closer, but his response dissolves before it's spoken. Warmth heats the bare skin of your back as someone steps close behind you. Your stomach plummets like a rollercoaster, and goosebumps dot your armsâthere's no need to look.
âEddie,â Steve welcomes him with a handshake that shifts to an embrace. âYou made it.â
Since the kiss, Eddie has honored your request, maintaining the distance you neededâ a display of restraint that the high school version of him might not have managed. But after your talk with Hopper and the shadow of the looming deadline creeping closer, it was only a matter of time before you had to face him. And the clock has just run out.Â
âHow could I pass this up?â Eddieâs gaze darts around the solarium before landing on you. âDoll.â He leans in, placing a light kiss on your cheek before turning back to Steve. âThis is some party. Congratulations, man.âÂ
"Thanks for passing the word down your contact list,â Steve says, his tone sincere. âMy head of PR mentioned you've made her job a hell of a lot easier."Â
âHappy to help,â he shrugs, adjusting the gold cufflinks at his wrists. Heâs ignored the last few buttons of his pressed black shirt and worn it open-collar, allowing a glimpse of the fine black-inked lines that grace the skin of his chest.Â
âDo you own a suit that isnât black?â You ask, eyeing the slim-fit pinstripe, that's obviously been tailored to fit him like a glove. âOr is that a rental?â
âAce,â Steve chides.
Eddie laughs, the sound rich and easy. âGotta match with the sweet old tats, donât I?â The edge that once sharpened your words now fails to cut. His smile blooms into dimples, and itâs contagious. Despite the crackling of nerves and self-made promises, he disarms you. A line creases Steveâs brow as the moment hangs, and your smirk echoes Eddieâs.
A peel of laughter rises above the blend of music and conversation as the party continues. A harried junior staffer pushes through the crowd, bumping shoulders and muttering apologies as she tries to keep a stray lock of hair from escaping her updo. âSteve, Iâm so sorry to interrupt,â she keeps her voice low despite her breathlessness. âTed's already on his fifth bourbon, and he's cornered Harris Blake from Bean City Brews. He's telling that joke about the nun and the circus tent, and I think we are about to lose half of our ad revenue for this quarter."
"Shit," Steve mutters, his fingers raking through his hair. "Okay, let's deal with this." Relief washes over the staffer's face as she quickly turns, leading the way.
Steve pauses, his eyes meeting yours, an apology written on his face. "Iâm-â
"It's okay. Go," you reassure with a squeeze of his bicep. His lips lift at the corners before he turns away, disappearing into the crowd as your gaze lingers after him.
The weight of Eddieâs eyes settles on you before youâve even turned to meet them. âSo, is this the part where I chase you around all night until you finally agree to talk to me?â he asks, closing the distance with a step forward.
âActually, I thought weâd skip that part.â Your eyes dip to your shoes, avoiding his stare. âI want to apologize for what happened. I let my emotions get the better of me. It was unprofessional.âÂ
âUnprofessional?â Surprise lifts brows before his lips press together in a hard line. âCome with me.â His hand closes over yours, pulling you through the solarium without looking back before you can object.Â
âEddie-â you start, but heâs already ushering you into the double doors of the sky theater.
He doesnât stop as he leads you into the darkness, the room illuminated only by the soft rows of small floor lights as the soaring domed ceiling swirls with violet and periwinkle projections of the starry sky. Ignoring the few others milling around, he tugs you into the privacy of the shadows, finally releasing your hand. In the orchid-tinged light, his stare holds a depth that's hard to look away from. âThis isnât business, doll. You mean everyââ he swallows, âyouâre my closest friend.â
âYou donât even know me anymore, Eddie.â Your head shakes, silently begging him to understand.
His hands move to grip your shoulders. âThere are some things that time canât change.â
âIt canât happen again,â you state in a firm voice, taking a step back and widening the gap between you.Â
He shoves his hands into his pockets, waiting as a couple meanders past, pointing out Cassiopeia. âThen what do you propose?â
âIâll finish the articles.â
âAnd then?â
âAnd then everything goes back to the way it was. I'm sure we'll cross paths from time to time.â The words emerge on a strained breath, tightness seizing your lungs. âItâs for the best.âÂ
âThatâs not good enough,â he counters, the shake of his head cutting through the dim light. âI want you in my life.â
âI donât know if I can do that.â
âYou can.â He inches closer, blowing out a sigh. âLook, it was my fault. Be my friend. Draw that line, and we wonât cross it. I know youâre still pissed at me, but we can work through it.â His voice falters, the earlier resolve in his eyes melting into a plea. âArenât you tired of carrying all this around inside of you?â
His question softens the tension in your chest, suggesting a sliver of peace you hadn't known you were seeking. Maybe the scars etched on your heart for so long have also shielded it from joy. You swallow the lump in your throat, offering an almost imperceptible nod.
âCan you try for me?â he pleads.Â
âI canât make you any promises,â you nod again, more sure this time. âBut Iâll try.âÂ
His thumb gently traces the side of your face before his arms circle you, pulling you close against himâthe scent of vanilla and clove clings to his jacket. Under your cheek, the fabric is cool and smooth, tinged with a hint of tobacco, taking you someplace you thought was lost.Â
âDonât mark up my suit with that shit you wear all over your face,â he teases, his hold on you not lessening an inch. âIt is a rental.â
There is a tentative hopefulness in your newly minted truce with Eddie. Almost as tangible as the pulse of the bass vibrating through the soles of your shoes. His smile, easy and unguarded, lights up his face as he guides you through the sea of finely dressed attendees with a hand resting on your lower back. Stopping to exchange hellos and handshakes with a group of industry professionals who are eager to discuss his Studio opening. He pushes the topic aside in favor of introducing you. With an effortless charm, he leaves no room for doubt about your credentials as a journalist at Stax and suggests the value an interview with you would bring to their clients.
âWhat?â His eyebrows lift, amusement playing across his features as he catches the pleased look on your face as you tuck a handful of new business cards into your clutch.
âAre you auditioning to be my new publicist?â you tease, your brain already teeming with the new articles his introduction just made a possibility.Â
The warmth of his laughter is becoming a welcome sound. âIâll be anything you want, doll,â he offers, the words punctuated by a flirtatious flash of his dimples.
A snort accompanies the roll of your eyes, even as your stomach flutters.Â
âIâm proud of you, you know? he adds, a soft earnestness in his tone. âI like showing you off.â The tenderness in his expression doesn't waver as he follows you through the solarium. You find your fiancĂ©e chatting with a familiar face. A welcome distraction from all things Eddie.Â
âDulcita,â Argyle wraps an arm around your shoulders. âLooking bitchin, as always. That dress is killer.â
Laughing, you nod toward his outfit, âWell, Iâm just trying to keep up. You look amazing.âÂ
With an exaggerated flourish, he poses with his thumbs stretching the lapels of his periwinkle floral suit before turning to greet Eddie with a handshake.Â
Steve's hand finds its way to your hip, drawing you near. "I thought Iâd lost you. Where'd you disappear to?"
âJust exploring a bit,â you offer, meeting his look with a smile, but his eyes shift past you toward Eddie.
A pretty blonde waitress weaves through the crowd, her tray of fresh drinks catching Eddie's attention. He flags her down with a tilt of his head and a confident wink. âThanks, sweetheart,â he says, plucking a few glasses from her tray to pass around.
âThis event is popping off,â Argyle chimes in, taking a glass and nodding toward Steve. âCongrats, dude. I couldnât have planned this better myself.â
Eddie extends a glass in your direction. âDoll?âÂ
Steveâs shoulders tense as his stare fills the space between you and Eddie, the sides of his mouth dipping. âHave you eaten?â he asks, his hand tightening slightly on your waist.
For a heartbeat, you just look at him, letting the wave of irritation roll past. Your teeth sink into your lip as you decline Eddieâs offer with a shake of your head.Â
Eddie's face tightens, a flash of restrained agitation crossing his features as he retracts the glass and dismisses the waitress with a polite nod. Argyle, shifts uncomfortably, his lips pursed into an O as his gaze skitters across the room.Â
Turning fully towards Steve with a soft expression, you aim for lightness. âArgyleâs right, you know. It all looks perfect, Steve,â you say, channeling warmth into your words, âEveryoneâs having a great time. All your hard work is really paying off.â
Half of his mouth lifts as his gaze wanders over the crowd. âGuess weâll see on Monday when the final numbers come in. Richard is already pushing to take City Beats national.â
Your face falls, âBut thatâs...thatâs a massive undertaking. Youâd have to restructure everything, wouldnât you?â
Steve nods, his expression turning heavy. âYeah, it would mean a major overhaul, not just in marketing but across multiple departments. We'd likely need to set up satellite offices in other cities, which means a lot of travel for me. Itâs ultimately up to the investors, though.â
âNot too shabby, Harrington,â Argyle says, clapping Steve on the shoulder. âYouâre going to be running with the big dogs now.â
The conversation becomes muted as worry knots your stomach. Steve doesnât seem to realize that his decisions impact more than just his own future. The coming months loom large with late nights and lost weekends. The toll wonât be just the dark circles under his hazel eyes but the shared moments slipping away like water through your fingers. His relentless drive for success and approval is edging him closer to repeating his father's mistakesâbecoming distant, hollow, bitter. Pouring himself into work to the point of exhaustion, neglecting those he loves, just as he was once neglected. You can't just watch as he loses himself, not when you see the signs, feel the strain.
âCome on, Ace, smile for me. This is a good thing.â Steve says with a soft tone as his lips find your temple.
âI know that, and Iâm so proud of you,â you manage, lifting your cheeks in the look of adorement he hopes to see. âYou work so hard. I just worry.â
His hand shifts to cradle your jaw, tipping your chin to meet his gaze. âIt will be fine, I promise. Iâll take some time before things really ramp up,â he reassures, the corners of his hopeful eyes crinkling. âMaybe for a honeymoon?â
âSounds like someone is trying to think of excuses to get out of the actual work,â Nancyâs voice slices through the moment, her arrival almost as commanding as the deep plum of her silk dress that clings and flows in all the right places, complementing her sleek dark hair.
âA national campaign?â Jonathan steps beside Nancy, his narrow tie and vintage-cut suit making him look straight from the 1950s. âYou might as well give back the ring now. Sounds like heâs already married to his work,â he leans toward you, cupping his mouth like a secret, earning him a chuckle from the rest of the group.Â
Ignoring him, Steve directs his attention to Nancy with a self-assured smirk. âThanks for showing up, Nance. Wouldnât want you to miss the moment Second City leaves Spectrum behind for the history books."
Her eyes narrow as her arms cross over her slender body, âThatâs adorable, Steve, really. But the idea that your little radio project outshines a whole TV network? Please..â
Steve lets out a snort as his hands move to his hips. âLast I checked, Spectrum's sprawling empire was one channel.âÂ
âWe're thinking of expanding,â her voice is as smooth as silk as she examines her nails.Â
âWith the tech weâre developing for on-demand music, whoâs going to need cable?â
âIf you can manageââ
âIf I may suggest putting away the rulers,â Argyleâs voice rises above their bickering, âItâs Steveâs party, and I think weâve had enough dick measuring for the evening.â
âFine,â Nancy agrees as she holds Steve's stare, matching his smug expression, âIâll concede. Congratulations on your accomplishments, Steve.â
âAppreciated,â Steve says, with a tip of his chin.Â
âBut let's be clear,â Nancy adds, unable to help herself, âmy dick is still bigger.â
Argyle groans as Jonathan's eyes roll skyward. Eddie takes a gulp of champagne, trying to stem his laughter.
âWhereâs Robin?â you ask, cutting off whatever retort Steve was planning before it has a chance to leave his mouth, âDidnât she ride with you guys?â
âShe took off at the coat check with Jessie Jâsomething about a twerking tutorial,â Jonathan explains, looking confused as he tucks his hands in his pockets.Â
Nancy's laugh tinkles with mischief. âTrust me, it's a sight. Robin insists she's better.â
âWell, Iâm not missing that,â Eddie says, polishing off his drink, âIâll catch you all later.â He turns and leaves your group, placing his empty glass on a waiter's tray as he walks past.Â
As he melts into the crowd, Nancy's gaze shifts to Richard making his way toward your circle. Her smile tightens ever so slightly, âOh god. Is that Richard Kingsley?â she asks Steve. âI thought heâd have retired by now, off riding a golf cart in Florida.âÂ
âNo such luck.â Steve mutters under his breath, âPlay nice, please.â
âIâm always nice,â she whispers before she plasters on her grin, âRichard.â
Richard approaches with a practiced smile, extending his hand to Nancy. âNancy Wheeler, Spectrumâs shining star in the digital domain, or so Iâve been told. Theyâve certainly sent us their best tonight. Howâs the world of content directing? â
âActually, Richard,â Steve quickly corrects, his voice firm yet courteous as he positions himself alongside Nancy, âVice President of Content Strategy. Nancyâs been leading the charge there for over a year now.âÂ
Richard's smile doesn't falter as he turns to Nancy. "My apologies, Nancy. Iâm sure it's a well-deserved promotion.â She offers him a polite smile that doesnât quite meet her eyes as he continues, âYour insights at the conference in New York wereâŠenlightening. It's always good to have industry leaders like yourself in attendance.â
As if on cue, a junior staff photographer weaves through the crowd. Richard snaps his finger at him, seizing the opportunity, "Let's capture this moment, shall we? A picture for the company archives.â
âBetter him than me,â Jonathan mutters as the staffer directs the group a few feet away, ensuring the City Beats Logo will frame the background of the photo. Richard positions himself at the center, patting at the shine of his red face with a handkerchief before draping an arm over each of their shoulders.
âThatâs depressing,â Jonathan snorts, watching the setup. âWell, I'm off to find a drink that matches my cynicism,â he adds, taking the opportunity to slip away, leaving you alone with Argyle.
âSo,â The sweetness of pineapple and weed hit your nose as Argyle leans over your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear, âIt looks like you and Eddie sorted out your shit, huh?â
âWeâre tolerating each other,â you tell him without turning your head.Â
âI donât know, man,â he muses, his eyes narrowing, âTolerance was not the look on your face when you walked in here with him.â
A huff escapes your throat as you whip around to face him. âIâm interviewing him, remember?â you ask, trying to keep defensiveness out of your voice. âI'm just trying to beâŠpleasant.âÂ
âYou can tell yourself whatever you need to,â he adds, concern written across his face. âBut from where Iâm standing, you look like youâre in way over your head.â
The words die in your throat as Eddie reappears, weaving through the crowd with the grace of someone used to navigating this kind of affair. In one hand, he balances a plate arranged with an assortment of canapes and sushi, each piece a miniature work of art. His deep brown eyes keenly focused on you. âEat something, doll,â he suggests, handing the plate over to you.
That feeling wells up in your stomach as you purse your lips, trying not to let your mouth stretch too big in front of Argyle, although he probably has picked up on the heat rising to your face. âThanks,â you say shyly, accepting the plate.Â
âIâll snag one,â Argyle reaches toward your plate with two fingers.
 Eddie brows lower. âYou can get your own, theyâre not charging.â
âSheesh, I know, dude. They're from my restaurant,â Argyle informs him.
âThen you know exactly where to get more,â Eddie counters.
âDid you find Robin?â you ask, changing the subject. âWas she twerking?â
âYeah, I caught the tail end of it. And Iâll never unsee it,â his genuine laughter fills the space. âI think itâs burned into my retinas.â
âMrs. Harrington," comes the voice of a junior staffer materializing beside you with such abruptness that the plate nearly slips from your grasp. "They want you in the photo now.â
âUmm, sure,â you say, glancing to where Steve is standing with Nancy, laughing at something she said. Eddie takes the plate from you, his easy smile from earlier erased by the downturn of his lips.Â
Smoothing down your skirt, you follow the photographer, consciously relaxing the clench of your jaw over how you were addressed. Steveâs eyes sparkle with warmth as he makes space for you between himself and Nancy, Richard positioned at the end. The clear happiness on his face eases your irritation. His hand finds a place on your ribs, pulling you into his side before the photographer directs you where to look.Â
âVery nice,â Richard comments with a nod after the flash goes off.Â
âOne for your company Christmas card,â Nancy quips, throwing a look in Steve's direction.
Richard, not missing a beat, turns to you both. âYes, well, itâs always a pleasure, Ms. Wheeler. I hope you enjoy the party,â he says before shifting to Steve. âReady to give the investors a tour, my boy? Theyâve had their share of drinks. Should be just about softened up for you now.â
âIâll be right with you, Richard.â Steve waves him off, his eyes softening as he looks down at you, âYou going to be okay on your own for a while, Ace?â
âAbsolutely,â you tell him, rising to your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. âYouâre going to kill it, handsome.âÂ
The side of his mouth tips up as you use your thumb to wipe away the gloss you left behind. âHow did I get so lucky?â he wonders aloud, his gaze locked on yours. Leaning in, he captures your lips with his in a kiss that lingers a beat too long for a public place.Â
âI'll find you later.â Regret clouds his eyes as he pulls back, slipping on the professional mask he wears far too often. He walks away with Richard in tow.
âI better go find Jonathan,â Nancy tells Argyle and Eddie as you rejoin your friends, âor heâll end up in a corner talking politics all night, and I made him promise me that heâd dance with me for at least one song.âÂ
âYou can sign me up for one too, Wheeler,â Eddie says, popping a piece of sushi in his mouth. âNo arm twisting required.â
âIâm going to hold you to that, Munson,â she promises, pointing a playful finger at him before turning to leave, her dress swirling behind her.
âYou, Eddie Muson, volunteering to dance,â you tease, your expression mockingly shocked. âNow Iâve seen everything.â
âPlay your cards right, doll, and Iâll show you up close and personal,â Eddie says, his eyebrows dancing as he offers you a canapĂ©.
âThatâs alright, Eddie. Iâve got my regular dance partner right here, right Argyle?â you say, looping your arm through his.
âYeah... yup,â Argyle murmurs, his attention momentarily snagged by a tall brunette striding past. She sweeps a waterfall of silky hair over her shoulder, pretending not to notice him, but the extra sway added to her hips says otherwise.Â
âSolo dame una noche con ese culo y te harĂ© mami, querida,â Argyle calls after her, untangling himself from your arm. Â
âTraitor,â you accuse, watching him go with a shake of your head as he follows after her without a backward glance.
âVe por ella, amigo,â Eddie encourages with a booming laugh.
Turning back to you, he rocks on his heels, a smirk playing on his lips. âLooks like itâs just you and me, doll.â
âYeah, well, you donât have to look so happy about it,â you chide when his dimples make an appearance, sending the rusted chains around your heart rattling when it jumps under your ribs. Maybe Argyle wasnât too far off the mark.
A brisk wind cuts across the dark surface of Lake Michigan. The City Beats logo burns bright in yellow neon, its light spilling over the outdoor stage and dancing across the waterâs surface in a rotation of colors. Despite the press of bodies, warmth is scarce, with the night air nipping at any exposed skin. Before you can even think of shivering, Eddie drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders, the fabric holding the residual warmth of his body. He stands close beside you, seemingly unfazed by the cool temperature, as Maroon 5 concludes their set.
The crowd sways as one, heads bobbing in sync with the rhythm pulsing into the chilly evening. The spice of Eddie's cologne is a veil around you, drawing you closer into his orbit. Glancing his way, you expect his attention to be on the show, eyes tracking each note and chord. Instead, you find the intensity of his gaze fixed on you.
As the song ends with the band offering their thanks, the MC dashes on stage to announce the next performer. With a tip of his chin, Eddie motions for you to follow him. Together, you squeeze through the crowd, walking along the path at the lake's edge until the sea of people begins to thin, their noise fading into a distant murmur until it's just the two of you left, accompanied by the quiet hush of waves lapping against the bank.Â
He stops, gazing out over the water, city lights dancing in his eyes. âI almost forgot how your face changes when you listen to music. Itâs like the lyrics break right through, lighting you up from the inside.â
âMy one true love,â you respond with a wistful sigh, giving him a shrug.Â
âOh yeah?â He turns toward you, inching a bit closer to reach into the breast pocket of the suit jacket enveloping your shoulders. He pulls out a tightly rolled joint, eyeing you with a raised brow. âWhatâs with all the âMrs. Harringtonâ business?â he asks, placing the joint between his lips and fishing a brass Zippo from his pants pocket. âDid you get married and forget to invite me?â
Your eyes flash skyward as he lights it with a practiced flick and takes a deep drag. âI donât know...Steve encourages it. I think itâs his way of reminding me heâs waiting for me to set a date.â
He passes you the joint and blows out a lung full of white smoke that swirls into the night air. âYou have left the poor sap waiting for a while.â
âI donât want to talk about my relationship with you, Eddie,â you say, flicking the ash off the burning paper's end before pressing it to your lips and inhaling.Â
âWhy not?â His gaze probes, seeking an opening, a slip, anything. âFriends talk about their relationships, donât they?â
You canât help but cough, the potency of the smoke catching you off guard. âYou know exactly why not,â you retort, passing the joint back to him. A soft fog settles over your thoughts, smoothing out the eveningâs sharpness. âAnd you? Volunteering to help with the guest list...â You eye him skeptically, âTrying to ease your conscience?â
He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes another hit, âIt was only a couple of texts, doll,â he says, passing the joint back to you, his fingers brushing yours. âTrust me, I sleep just fine at night. Whatâs between you and me started long before Steve entered the picture.â
 "Well, heâs here now," you assert with defiance, your gaze locked with Eddie's as the joint burns down in your fingers.Â
His fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding your left hand into the streetlamp's glow until the diamond on your finger flashes. "I guess he is. But doll," he steps closer, his eyes holding yours, "so am I."
âYeah? Letâs wait and see if you stick around this time.â Your skepticism is clear as you bring the joint back to your lips, watching his face fall with your pointed words.
âSo this is where the cool kids hang out,â Hopperâs gruff voice cuts into the night, anchoring you back to reality. Eddie takes a step away from you, his hands tugging on the ends of his curls. Hopperâs eyes narrow on the joint between your fingers. âReally think itâs wise to smoke grass at a work function?âÂ
âI promise not to operate any heavy machinery,â you respond in a dry tone, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
The older manâs eyes shoot skyward before he holds out an expectant hand, âGive it here.â Â
You hand it over, and the burning paper crackles as he takes a practiced drag, âAre you going to introduce me?â
âSorry. Yeah,â you rub your forehead, âJames Hopper, this is myâŠum, friend, Eddie Munson.â Eddie leans forward, reaching out to shake hands as you quickly explain, âHopperâs my editor.â The steadiness in your voice doesnât quite bridge the awkward moment.Â
Eddieâs brows raise as Hopperâs hand closes over his in a crushing grip. âHell of a grip,â Eddie comments with a question written across his face.Â
âA handshake is a good measure of man,â Hopper offers him no other explanation, handing him back the smoking joint before turning to you. âI expect a write-up of the launch on my desk by 10:30 tomorrow for the digital edition. And donât skimp on the details about the radio service. Downtown is keen on pushing this, so I hope you paid attention.â
âNo problem, Hop. Iâm on it,â you assure him.
âNow, Iâm going home to Joyce. If she gets a whiff of this on me, Iâm sending her your way.â
âYouâll be in the clear,â you promise with a soft grin.Â
Hopper's stern demeanor gives way to something gentler. âAlright,â he says with a nod, âEnjoy your evening, kid.â His eyes dart to Eddie. âBut not too much.â
âJesus, thatâs your editor?â Eddie asks once Hopper is out of sight. âThe guy missed his calling, he wouldâve made a great cop.â
Your laughter accompanies the dismissive shake of your head. âWe better go back inside.â
The walk back is steeped in quiet, the nightâs emotions a heavy weight that weaves threads of weariness and a dull ache through your limbs. Eddie appears less burdened, wearing an expression of contentment, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of his jacket still resting over your shoulders. The warmth of his palm seeps into the bare skin of your back while his thumb traces soothing circles along your spine. Carried in on a breeze, the earthy spice of late-blooming asters mingle with the vibrant colors of marigolds softened under the glowing canopy of string lights.
As you near the terrace, the murmur of voices grows, and the sparse groups of people along the pathway thicken to a full gathering. The shift from the lakeâs tranquility to the party's bright lights and crescendo of conversations is jarring. The solarium overflows with party-goers, their inhibitions loosened by drinks as they flood the dance floor, the music swelling louder and more insistent than before. Despite the sea of people, it takes only moments for Steveâs gaze to lock onto yours across the room as you reenter with Eddie by your side.Â
Without hesitation, he leaves the conversation he'd been having and moves toward you. The corners of your mouth lift in a greeting that isnât returned. His forehead creases with a question. The air seems thicker as you slide the jacket off, returning it to Eddie, the tightness in your chest reappearing. Steve's jaw clenches as he reaches you, his arm circling your waist. âIâll take my fiance back now, Munson.â
Eddieâs smirk sharpens as he hooks his jacket over one shoulder, âJust keeping an eye on her for you, buddy. Couldnât leave the lady alone with all these musicians wandering around.â He leans closer, his free hand circling his mouth, âThey tend to get a little handsy.â
"Thanks, pal," Steve replies, the last word stretched tight as he stands taller. âIâll take it from here.â
Eddieâs gaze drops to his feet momentarily before his head lifts. Amusement widens his grin, reflecting a confidence that borders on smug. His feet shuffle as he adjusts his posture to match Steveâs. A twist of nerves tightens your stomach as a spark that you know all too well brightens Eddieâs eyes like an echo of the cocky teenager he once was.Â
âHow about that dance you promised me, handsome?â you blurt, cutting Eddie off just as his mouth opens to respond. Stepping between them, you intertwine your fingers with Steve's and tug him toward the dance floor. As if on cue, the music mellows to a slower tempo.Â
Steveâs stare remains on Eddie as his arms circle your waist. âYou know, itâs funny, I never realized what a dick Eddie is.âÂ
Your head turns to see Eddie watching you with hands shoved in his pocket. âYou barely spoke to him all night. What led you to that conclusion?â
Robin bops over to meet him, her blue eyes gleaming as she tugs at his arm, trying to coax him into a dance despite his shaking head.Â
âI donât know. The guy is just rubbing me the wrong way,â Steve doesnât hide the irritation in his voice as he turns you so youâre facing away from them.Â
A burst of protectiveness that has been dormant since high school wells up like a hot spring. The words escape before your better judgment can catch them. âReally. Are you sure itâs not because heâs my friend?âÂ
The mossy green rings of his eyes burn into yours for only a moment before he blows out a soft breath. âLetâs not fight.â His big hand slides down to rest low on your back as he pulls you closer. âIâve been waiting to get you alone all night,â he says into your ear before his mouth covers yours hotly, leaving you whirling with his quick change. âWhere have you been all night, Ace?â
One side of his mouth lifts in a half-smile, but his confident mask slips. Behind his eyes, heâs lostâthe familiarity tugs at you. Rising on your toes, you press your lips to his. âIâm right here.âÂ
His expression softens, radiating a comforting warmth as his lips brush your temple. The rhythm of the song wraps around you both like a truce. Burying your cheek into Steveâs shoulder, your gaze follows Eddie as he turns his back and heads for the door.Â
Steve leans closer to the bathroom mirror, his fingertips shiny with the pomade he's using to piece out the strands of his chestnut hair.Â
âDonât forget your glasses,â you remind him, turning away from the open doorway and entering your bedroom. Â
âOr the tickets,â you toss out, noticing the white envelope on his night table.
âWhat would I do without you, Ace?â His voice floats from the bathroom, light and teasing.
Settling at the end of your bed, you pick up the novel you started recently, the book's weight familiar in your lap. Seeing Steve so relaxed and happy broadens your smile. He deserves this night out to blow off a little steam. City Beats' launch exceeded every expectation. A success that's finally turned the heads of the old guard at Second City toward the efforts of their youngest executive. Of course, memories are short, and victories are fleeting.
Steve's workload hasn't lessened, and the prospect of taking the platform national is still on the horizon, but you've set aside any misgivings, at least for now. Itâs been a week since you surprised him with the Bulls tickets during his birthday dinner at Maple and Ash, Steveâs favorite, surrounded by your closest friendsâwith one empty chair at the table when Eddie hadnât shown.Â
âSure you donât want to come? I still have an extra ticket,â He asks, emerging through the pocket doors separating your bedroom from the closet. Securing his Jaeger-Lecoultre watch to his wrist, the scent of Dior Homme follows him.
You glance down at your cozy leggings and cream wrap sweater. âIâve got big plans tonight, handsome.â You hold up the book against your chest. âDidnât anyone from your pick-up game want the ticket? Or those guys you play racquetball with?â
âI didn't get a chance to ask until the last minute,â he explains. âRobin called my office about fifty times to harass me about inviting Eddie to the game. It took me all week to get the guy on the phone, and then he turned me down flat.â He shakes his head, walking over to his nightstand to retrieve the tickets.Â
âI don't think Eddie is much of a sports guy,â you muse, glancing down at your fingers, folding and unfolding a dog-eared page. âHe used to say he didn't have time for throwing balls into laundry baskets. Heâd go on and on about the unfairness of high school politics.â A quiet laugh escapes your mouth along with the memory. âHe could be so dramatic back then.â
When you lift your eyes, Steve's standing frozen in place, the deep line between his brows wiping away his easy demeanor. He's looking at you like he's just found an uninvited stranger in his bed. Itâs just a flash before he recovers, his features returning to the affectionate expression he usually carries for you, but it was enough. The parts of yourself you keep hidden loom like an icebergâheâs just spotted the tip. You draw your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself.
âYeah?â He pauses, the air between you thickening as a hint of challenge colors his voice. âThatâs a little weird considering he got us seats at a Lakers game last time I was in LA.â
The silence stretches just a moment longer. âGuess heâs not the same guy you knew back in Hawkins. But then again, none of us are, right?â He lets the question hover, knowing an answer isnât coming. âPeople change,â he shrugs, his gaze intense and probing. âOr maybe we just never really knew them at all.â
He steps closer and leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth in a kiss that punctuates the conversation. His tone, sharp and heavy like a dull knife, cuts deep as he turns to leave. âEnjoy your book.âÂ
âWait.â You slip off the bed, bridging the gap between you. Your fingers tangle in the material of his shirt, drawing him closer until your lips meet his, adding pressure until his arms circle your waist and he kisses you back. His embrace grows warmer as your tongue slides into his mouth, grazing his before pulling back, making him chase you, and he does. You break away but keep him close, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath a warm whisper as his nose runs along your cheek. âHave fun, okay?â you murmur against his lips as his hands slide up and down your back. âKnock back a few. Yell at the Ref. Get Jonathan drunk enough to annoy Nancy.âÂ
He chuckles, a smile lifting his cheeks. âYou got it, Ace.â His eyes close as his lips find yours again. âI love you.âÂ
"I love you too, Steve," you whisper, your fingers uncurling from his shirt as you let him go. He takes your hand as you follow him downstairs. He opens the front door to a car waiting at the curb, the driver hoping out to open the backdoor.Â
âIâll see you in a few hours.â He smiles, picking up his keys from the small table.
The cold air rushes in from outside, and you pull your sweater tighter around your neck. Watching him step through the door, you call out, âHappy Birthday, handsome.â
As you close the door, Steve pauses on the landing with a thoughtful look crossing his face. âYou know, now that I think about it, Eddie didnât stop yapping that entire game. Maybe youâre right after all. The guy just doesnât like sports.â
You give a noncommittal shrug, your fingers tightening around the edge of the door. "What did you talk about?"
âCanât remember,â he shakes his head, resuming his descent down the steps. You watch for a moment longer before closing the door and latching the deadbolt.
With a sigh, you turn back to the now quiet house. The soft pad of your fluffy socks muffles your footsteps as you drift through the rooms, dimming the overhead lights to let the warmer glow of lamps bathe the space in a comforting light. You head to the kitchen, grabbing the remote from the counter. At the press of a button, the scratch of a guitar and a gravelly voice fill the silence, as comforting as an old friend.
You mouth the lyrics as you reach for a wine glass from the cupboard. With a practiced motion, you uncork a bottle of red, filling your glass halfway, only to keep going until it's right to the brim. The song shifts as you leave the kitchen, glass in hand, taking a sip, the rich flavors of dark fruit and spice mingling perfectly, soothingly. Sinking into the couch, you tip your head back against the cushion, letting the music and the stillness envelop you. Your eyes close, the lyrics weaving a soothing spell, chasing dark thoughts away.Â
The peace is predictably short-lived. A buzz jolts you. The phone tucked into your leggings vibrates with an incoming call. You try to ignore it, letting it ring to voicemail, but it buzzes againâthis time a text. With a resigned huff, you pull it out and unlock the screen with a click.
Missed Call â Eddie
Eddie: Your neighbors donât complain when you play music that loud?
You blink down at the screen and then lift your gaze to the room's dark corners.
Eddie: Donât get freaked out. Just come to the door.Â
Pushing off the couch, you pad through the house to the front door and open it to the chilly November night. A brisk gust of wind blows down your street, swirling dried red and orange leaves around Eddie's black leather boots, where he stands at the base of your steps, bathed in the soft glow of the sconces flanking your door.
His hands are shoved into the pockets of dark-fitted jeans, a cozy half-zip sweater in deep charcoal hugging his broad chest. He looks up at you from under his long lashes, head slightly cocked to the side. âI tried the bell.â His head turns to the street as a passing car splashes water up from the wet pavement. âWhat kind of sound system is that? I thought Chris was in there with you for a second.â
Wrapping your arms around your chest, your fingers gently rub the fabric of your sweater as you ignore the surrealness of Eddie casually referring to Chris Cornell by his first name. âWhat are you doing here? Steve's not home.â
âI know. I thought the guy would never leave. How long does it take him to do his hair, anyway?â
âItâs not funny, Eddie. You canât come in.â You glance down the street to see your neighbor, leash in hand, appear in the circle of light cast by the streetlamp.
âI donât want to come in, doll. Weâre going out. And we're late, so if you could light a fire under it.â Eddieâs lips press into a hard line as your neighbor passes him on the sidewalk, giving him the once-over, the poodle pausing to sniff his legs.
âEvening, Mr. Davis," you acknowledge with a wave as the man continues down the street, shaking his head. You turn back to Eddie, frustration evident in your tone. "I can't go anywhere. I'm not even dressed.â
Eddie raises an eyebrow, assessing your attire. âThose look like clothes to me.âÂ
Your head tilts to the side, your expression unwavering.Â
He glances at the sky and lets out a frustrated sigh before his gaze returns to you. âYou look beautiful, doll. Now, please. Just grab your coat,â he implores, his hands pressing together in front of him. â I promise to have you back before you turn into a pumpkin.âÂ
Your eyes lower to where your toes are wiggling in your socks, âEddie, Iââ
âWell, I could always just hang out here,â he muses, scratching at the scruff on his chin. âMight get awkward when the game lets out.â
âYou're not serious,â you challenge, skepticism evident in your tone.
âOh, aren't I?â he asks, cocking a brow as he crosses his arms over his chest. âFriends hang out together, donât they?â
âFine,â you fume. âBut I better be back in plenty of time.â You catch the way his smile broadens as you turn back into the house to slip on a pair of boots and grab an old woolen peacoat off the hook by the door. Stepping out onto the stone landing of your brownstone, you hesitate, shooting him another look of apprehension before turning to lock the door.
âChrist, woman, was that so difficult?â He throws his hands in the air as he crosses the street to a shiny black Audi Q7 parked at the curb. With a wave of his hand, he opens the passenger door, beckoning you to climb inside.Â
The bare branches of the trees sway with the wind, casting moving shadows against the shining asphalt painted with the last of the fallen leaves. You walk across the road to where heâs waiting and step into the SUV. You sink into the plush seat, the smell of leather, smoke, and his cologne assaulting your senses. It's the same scent that seemed to linger for days after your last visit to CursedSound, the one your guilt tried to erase.
Your hands worry themselves in your lap, twisting the diamond on your fourth finger while you wait for him to round the vehicle. The agreement about keeping the lines drawn is fresh in your mind as he climbs into the driver's seat.Â
Without warning, he leans over you, the warmth of his body invading your space, the pout of his full bottom lip hovering inches from yours. The sharp intake of your breath echoes loudly in the vehicle's quiet confines.
âSeatbelt,â he reminds you, his big brown eyes dancing with amusement as he drags the strap across your shoulder and clicks it into position at your hip.Â
Heat rises up your neck, burning your cheeks as he settles himself in his seat, strapping in before pressing the button that starts the ignition.Â
âShit.â His face falls as he glares at the glowing numbers on his dash. He turns the wheel, lurching the Audi onto the roadway. Your neighborhood disappears in a blur as he turns and heads north. âAnd I thought LA traffic was bad,â he mutters, weaving in and out of stagnant lanes.Â
The congestion loosens as he turns onto Lakeshore Drive, heading uptown. The moon hangs low, presiding over the rippling waters of Lake Michigan that stretch out into the night. A vast, dark canvas that reflects the tapestry of light from the towering buildings across the roadway rises to pierce the skyline.Â
Music from Eddieâs phone plays at a low volume through the stereo. It serves to fill the quiet between you, but thereâs something in the clash of the electric guitar and smooth bass that's an itch in your brain. Familiar like a half-remembered dream, but somehow still new.Â
Your eyes steal glances to your left. His profile fades in and out of shadow with the passing headlights. The sharp line of his jaw tightens with a clench when heâs forced to slow his speed. The baby softness he used to carry in high school has given way to solid angles and the perpetual growth of stubble. Thereâs no denying itâ heâs only gotten more attractive.
His head turns suddenly, catching your stare. Your throat clears as you reach for the knob, turning up the volume and letting the song replace anything about to be said. His hand moves from the gear shift to his thigh, his elegant fingers flexing against his jeans. Your eyes stay fixed on the taillights ahead as the song moves into its final refrain.
"Wait." You reach out to punch the back button, restarting the song. "This is you."
His eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth parting slightly. "How did youâ"
"Iâm right, arenât I?" you interject, pointing at the dash, focusing on the distinct chord progression and the sound of fingers sliding over frets.
"Yeah, it's something Iâve been working on for a while,â he admits, looking at you with soft eyes. âStill trying to figure out a part that's missing."Â
"I didnât realize you still played," you comment, adjusting the volume again.
âI donât know why you're surprised,â he says, reaching back to place his hand on your headrest as he smoothly backs the SUV into a space, turning the wheel to align with the curb. âI don't give up on the things I care about.â He shifts into park and turns off the ignition. âCome on.â His hand lands on your knee in a gentle squeeze. âWeâre here.âÂ
Exiting the car, you step onto the empty side street. Ambient light filters down from the high windows of the brick buildings lining both sides of the street. A nondescript bus with blackened windows and a few other cars sit parked at the curb. This is exactly the kind of place you'd normally avoid after dark. Sighing, you round the car to where Eddie is waiting. His hand finds its way to the small of your back, guiding you across the street to a lone, unmarked steel door. With a closed fist, he raps out five quick knocks followed by two slower and turns to you with a grin.Â
âWhat are we doing here?â you ask, shoving your hands into your coat pockets and looking up and down the street.
âIâm apologizing.â His words are cut off by the scraping sound of locks, followed by the door swinging open. Bright light spills out, casting a silhouette of a very large, bald man holding a clipboard, nearly obscuring the doorway.
âCan I help you?â booms the manâs voice, reverberating off the surrounding brick.
âIâm on the list,â Eddie says, undeterred.
âName?â the doorman asks, retrieving a pen from behind his ear.
âMunson,â Eddie responds, glancing at the clipboard. âEdward and guest.â
The man sizes up Eddie with a thorough once-over, his gaze flickers towards you briefly before allowing you both to enter.Â
Following Eddie, you step inside, the brightness of the overhead fluorescents bouncing off the cinder block walls, causing you to squint after the dimly lit street outside. Flight cases and amp stacks clutter the small vestibule of the venue's loading area. The muffled thrum of a bass line vibrates through the walls and high ceilings.Â
âYouâre cutting it close,â the man grunts, his staff shirt stamped with the Riviera Theaterâs logo pulling tight across his chest as he hands Eddie two lanyards with plastic tags.Â
The sweet sound of a cascade of delicate strings drifts through the air from down the hall opposite you, drawing your attention like a moth to a porch light.Â
âIs that violins?â Turning toward the sound, tiny sparks ignite in your chest as Eddie slips the lanyard over your head.
âYou know the way?â The doorman snaps his clipboard, ignoring your question.
âWeâll find it,â Eddie assures him, his fingers closing around your elbow as he tugs you toward the hallway.
The smile stretching your lips is automatic. Tingles of energy zip through your veins as anticipation builds, like being a kid at Christmas. As the stark fluorescents give way to dimmer bulbs, a murkier haze settles around you, mirroring the anticipation building in your chest. Their soft glow catches the shine of the dark curls resting on Eddie's collar as you trail after him down the maze of narrowing corridors.
Passing by closed doors and bulletin boards tacked with production notes and schedules, you step lightly to avoid the cords snaking across your path. The worn wooden floorboards creak with each step like they are responding to the growing clarity of the strings that now reach your ears, no longer muffled but rich and full.
The baseline of Dreams smooths into its final notes, and applause thunders from the audience. Eddie pauses, his hand resting lightly on your back, guiding you to a halt. You step between him and the canopy of curtains gathered at the stageâs edge, the sounds of the crowd's approval dissipating into the cavernous space. The polished instruments rest in the orchestraâs hands, poised for their next cue. Your hand flies to your mouth as the sight of The Cranberries at center stage fully registers. Dolores OâRiordanâs head turns, catching Eddieâs gaze. With an exasperated look, she taps the watch strapped to her wrist. He mouths a âSorry,â his head tilting slightly towards you. At that moment, her brown eyes connect with yours. A hint of a smile graces her face before she turns back to the audience, her voice resonating in the stillness, "I was saving this one."
The first sigh of the violin expands with your breath, an arrow soaring through the air, piercing the center of your chest. A thrum of a calloused thumb brushing over the strings of an acoustic guitar accompanies the âAhhsâ of her lilting voice. The harmony is echoed by a cello, then a viola, and another violin, each repetition weaving into the next like a ripple of raindrops on calm water until it all fades into a hush, leaving your stomach swooping in its wake.
The silence shatters with the bold strum of the guitar. The air leaves your lungs in unison with the crashing bassline, the full swell of the strings washing over you like an ocean wave.
If you, if you could return
Don't let it burn
Don't let it fade
In the auditorium's darkness, the audience vanishes until only you and he exist. Eddie stands close, his warmth seeping into you as he presses into you with his shoulder. Clove and tobacco mix with the tang of iron and polished wood. The back of his hand grazes the soft skin of your own, but itâs the stage that holds your attention, pulling you in deeper.Â
Is that the way we stand?
Were you lying all the time?
Was it just a game to you?
The accompanying musicians close their eyes, becoming extensions of their instruments. Dolores tilts her head, her voice clear and strong, pouring from her slight frame. The music rises through the aged floorboards, tremors of notes climbing your legs and bursting within your chest. Stirring emotions so immense it threatens to spill over as tears sting behind your eyes.Â
Oh, I thought the world of you
I thought nothing could go wrong
Your head turns and you find Eddie has been watching you the entire time. His throat bobs as he swallows, the bright lights reflecting the shine in his eyes, and now it's you who can't look away. The soft expression he wears is tender and novel. The black lines that have always connected you pull taut, tugging at your heart. Lines that you thought were severed by anger and loneliness.Â
But I was wrong, I was wrong
But somehow, theyâve remained. Tattered and a little frayed but enduring all the same. At his core, he is who heâs always been, and so are you.
Things wouldn't be so confused
And I wouldn't feel so used
But you always really knew
I just want to be with you
Two souls found each other in the darkness, singing the same song. He brought you here for a reasonâhe's telling you he's sorry without words, reaching for you through the melody in a way you can't ignoreâin a way that matters.
And I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
Everything falls away, but the music and your shared heartbeats. Memories flicker, like pages of a faded scrapbook caught in the windâsunlit and shadowed. The heavy musk of aged velvet curtains shifts into the fresh scent of cut grass and summer nights, the cool touch of lakewater, and the honeyed warmth of sunshine lingering on his skin. Hummed lyrics, shared laughter, the comfort of being by his side. You liked the version of yourself reflected in his eyes.
Recollections you locked away come back in a deluge. Past moments, both sweet and sharp, weave together, softening the edges of old wounds. Each verse, each look from him, peels back layers of hurt youâd clung to. The bitter shell around your heart begins to crack, dislodging the shards within. Lighter now, your wounds can start to mend. The remaining scars are reminders, but a warmth begins to unfurl in their place, reluctant and bewildering. Itâs not forgiveness yet, but the possibility is closer for him and for yourself.
You got me wrapped around your finger
Notes spiral upwards, threading through the shadow-laden lattice of ropes and rigging until they dissipate into the darkness above. Under the glare of the stage lights, the harmonies that once defined you rekindle, sparking to life. Your fingers find his with intention, intertwining with deliberate grace, palm to palm, sliding, locked together. Warmth spreads through the both of you. It's unexpected the way lyrics unravel you, making room for something new. Your gaze leaves his, returning to the performance, but you lean into Eddie, your head tipping to rest on his shoulder. The breath releases from his chest in a shuddering sigh. And he feels an awful lot like home.Â
Do you have to let it linger?
Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?
Listen to the acoustic version of Linger here Rest in peace, Delores. Ni bheidh a leitheid ann aris.
Big, huge, giant, hugs and sloppy wet kisses for sticking with me. I know the wait was long. Your encouragement got me through it. Especially Leighanne and Taylor who had to put up with me whining.
All your song suggestions have made this fic so fun to write. Please keep 'em coming.
We are about halfway through, kittens. It's about to get bumpy.
For updates follow @tornupdates
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With All My Heart
Reupload from eddiesdreamgirl
Summary: Feeling insecure about your established relationship with Eddie now that his career as a musician is taking off.
Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, no smut (sorry)
wc: 1k
a/n: I wrote this when I was feeling especially insecure about myself.
You curled up on the couch, wrapping yourself in sadness and a soft blanket. It had been a long day, and you just wanted to disappear. Tonight was another Tuesday night success at the Hideout for your up-and-coming rock star boyfriend, but it left you feeling raw and vulnerable. His band had been garnering more and more attention lately. You were thrilled for him, but it stirred up so much insecurity in you. Why would he stay with you when there were pretty, skinny wannabe groupies waiting for him after every show now? So you had told him you were proud of him, like you always did, because you were. Then you left unceremoniously under the guise of being tired. You had turned away before he could even kiss you goodnight.
It didnât take long before you were asleep on the couch, worn out from crying after such a long day. Somehow, you could feel the end of your relationship with Eddie looming. Heâd make it big, then heâd leave you for someone better. It felt inevitable at this point that you were merely a placeholder, like you were used to being.Â
You woke to the feeling of something tickling your cheek. Eddieâs long hair as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. âHey, baby,â he whispered. âWhyâd you leave so quick?â
âMâtired,â you murmured, sitting up on the couch.
He sat next to you, wrapping his arms around you. âI know I just caught you sleeping, but I still donât believe that. Please talk to me.â
You sniffled, still feeling tears prick at your eyes. How could you explain this to him and not sound completely bonkers? âDonât worry about it.â
âNot gonna happen. I know somethingâs up. Did I do something wrong?â
âItâs not you,â you sighed.Â
âI can feel you crying, angel. How can I make it better? Whatever it is.â
For some reason, that opened the floodgates, and you began to sob. âIâm afraid of losing you,â you choked out.
He held you tighter, rubbing you back in an attempt to soothe you. âWhat makes you think youâre gonna lose me? Youâre my girl.â
You sniffled and huffed out a breath. âI can'tâŠHow can I compete with all the skinny, pretty girls begging for your attention? How can I be good enough for you now?â
He didnât know where this came from. You two had been friends forever, growing up playing D&D together. No one knew you as well as each other. When he unexpectedly confessed his feelings for you in 1984, during his first senior year and the year you graduated, it changed everything for you. You had been desperately in love with him but never told him for fear of being rejected and ruining your friendship, but he wasnât afraid to shout it from the rooftops. As a result, you decided to stay in Hawkins, take night classes at the community college in Roane County, and help him with his music career. He had graduated after his third attempt almost a year ago, and the band had risen steadily in the area ever since. It hadnât occurred to you then that his greater success meant more attention from girls who never gave him the time of day before. He wasnât as much of a freak anymore, meaning his options were more open. He wouldnât have to settle for you anymore.
âWhere the hell is this coming from, angel?â he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.
Truthfully, you didnât even know. It hit you out of the blue sometimes but never like this. Seeing a group of pretty girls hanging around the stage as the band packed up their gear, swooning over Eddie, was deeply distressing to you. You spent all your life struggling to feel worthy amongst all the skinny girls around you. Then Eddie told you heâd loved you for years, which did help. But you could never fully silence the voice that told you heâd be happier with someone small. Someone pretty. Someone like Chrissy, whom heâd had a crush on in middle school. That was why you were surprised to learn he had fallen for you somewhere along the way.Â
He loved you more than you thought you deserved, and youâd have done anything for him. Almost four years on, though, you still didnât expect him to stay forever. You always assumed youâd end up with a broken heart and memories too bitter to keep you warm after he left.
You blinked back another wave of tears. âAm I wrong, though?â
âWith all the love in the world, you couldnât be more wrong.â His arms squeezed you tighter. âDo you think Iâm going to trade you in for someone else?â
You nodded, a pathetic little whimper rumbling from your chest as you tried not to cry. âHow could you not?â
âDo you know how fucking much I love you? You are irreplaceable. No one could ever, ever take your place, okay? It will always be you. Donât you get that? If I had a choice between you and a million things Iâve always wanted, Iâd choose you every time. Every single time, without question. Have I done something to make you think Iâd want anyone else, or is your brain lying to you again?â
He had always had a way of reminding you that sometimes, your perception wasnât reality, and he could do it in the kindest way. You loved him so much for that, especially now. âIt might be the lying thing,â you mumbled.
âI guarantee itâs the lying thing, because I adore you. I always will. Weâre meant to be together. Donât you know that by now? Leave the groupies to Gareth. I want you.â
He knew that would bring a smile to your face, and it did. You smiled a little amidst your tears. âPromise?âÂ
âWith all my heart, pretty girl. Let me show you how much.â
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What You Deserve Part 5: Details
Masterlist: Here
CW: brief mention of toxic ex
Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies
A/N: I hope yâall enjoy this update it answers some questions and shows another side of Eddie, itâs a long one and I broke it up into sections!âš
âWhatâŠare those?â âTheyâre called flowers.â âAnd who..are they for?â âThey are for youâŠyou didnât expect me to show up to our firstâŠdate empty handed did you?â âThisâŠthis is a date? Youâre calling this a date? We are on a date?â âHey hey relax a bit please itâs okayâŠI justâŠI mean yes? Iâd call this a date because itâsâŠwell itâs when we are going to discus ourâŠrelationship so yeahâŠitâs a date.â âOkayâŠâ âis that okay? It doesnât need to be a date if itâs too-â âNo no itâs a dateâŠyeah weâŠare going on a date.â âPerfectâŠuhm do you want to maybeâŠget in the car now?â
âHoly shit.â âWhatâs wrong?âŠare you cold? You can wear my jacket if youâd like?â âSorry Iâm fine itâs justâŠ.I didnât get a good look at you in the car because I was distracted by the flowers butâŠseriouslyâŠdo you always just look likeâŠthis?â âUhâŠyes?â âYouâŠyou look like you just walked out of a magazine andâŠwell I look-â âAmazingâŠyou look amazingâŠnow unless you have anymore questionsâŠwe do have a reservation that we are almost late for.â âThis place looks niceâŠyou come here a lot?â âOh yeahâŠI take all my first dates here.â âI can see whyâŠâ âyouâŠdo know I was joking right?⊠Iâve actually never been here before.â âOh yeahâŠyeah I knew that.â
âSoâŠuhm what are some things youâŠdonât want me to do?â âOh right to the point huh? Canât even let me order you a glass of wine first?â âYou want to orderâŠfor me?â âOh forgive meâŠ.I didnât mean for it to sound like you canât order yourself a glass of wine I know youâre more than capable of telling people what you want.â âItâs okay Iâve justâŠnever had someone offer to order for me before.â âWell Iâm more than happy to if you wantâŠâ âthank youâŠso-â âhi welcome to Enzoâs what can I get you to drink?â âHelloâŠIâll have a glass of your house red and a water to start.â âPerfectâŠand for you dear? What would you like?â âUhmâŠuhâŠthereâs a lot of uhm choicesâŠuh-â âif youâre not sure I can just come back?â âUh Eddie can you-â âIâve got you sweetheartâŠsheâll have a glass of your white wine and a water with lemon please.â âExcellent choiceâŠIâll get those right out to you.â
âSo you asked easier what are some things I would prefer for you not to doâŠand thatâs actually a tough question to answer because I donât want you to feel like you have a set of rules to follow because you donâtâŠâ âOkayâŠwell there are uh some thingsâŠthat uhm Iâd like if youâŠdidnâtâŠdo.â âSuch as?â âI donât like being around uhmâŠmen when they drink too much soâŠif you do want to go and get drunk please justâŠdonât invite me along orâŠshow up at my house banging on my door or yelling my name from the front porch.â âHasâŠthat happened before?â âYesâŠseveral timesâŠand each time it endedâŠbadly.â âIt ended badly?âŠdo you mind explaining what that means?â âI donât want to ruinâŠthe mood by talking about what an asshole my ex is.â âUnderstandableâŠso what else would you like for me not to do?â âThis one might sound a little odd but..I donât like being called babeâŠit justâŠI donât like it.â âItâs not oddâŠwe all have names we donât like to be calledâŠis there anything else?â âI donât think so.â âWell if you think of anything elseâŠjust let me know because I donât want to do anything or say anything thatâll upset you.â
âHow was your dinner?â âIt was greatâŠthat place was really good and so cute I can see why you picked it for ourâŠuhm first date.â âIâm glad you enjoyed itâŠdo you mind taking a walk with me? I know we have a few more things toâŠdiscuss.â âA walk sounds niceâŠoh youâre a hand holder? I didnât see that coming.â âReally? Why? Do I not look like someone who likes to hold hands?â âNo you look like aâŠshove my hands in my jacket pocket type of guy orâŠlet me act like Iâm busy on my phone so no one bothers me kind of guy.â âI seeâŠwell your hands just looked too good not to hold.â âI have been told I have nice hands once or twice.â âYou know what? I actually believe thatâŠso I was wondering if we could talk more about what we both want out of thisâŠand maybe set up someâŠboundaries of some sort?â âYou startâŠwhat do you want from all of this Edward?â âAh back to Edward are we?â âOh shit sorry Eddie.â âItâs okayâŠwell what I want out of this is justâŠto spend time with you doing things as simple as thisâŠa walk around downtown or moreâŠextravagant things like trips to wherever youâd like to goâŠbut most importantly I just want to make your life easier.â âAndâŠall of that would makeâŠyou happy?â âYesâŠit would.â âI just donât see how spending money on me will make you happy?â âItâs not necessarily about spending money on youâŠyes I have the money to spend but itâs about having someone to do things withâŠand knowing youâre not stressed or worried about things that I canâŠeasily take care of for you.â âOkayâŠthat kinda makes sense.â âI have managed to build this wonderful life for myself andâŠI just want someone to enjoy it with me thatâs all.â âAnd that someone is me?â âIf you want it to be.â âOkayâŠbut you just have to know this is going to take some getting used to.â âI understandâŠyouâll have to be patient with me as well because Iâm used to doing things alone.â âSo we both have to be patient with one anotherâŠthat can be one of our ground rules.â âOkayâŠif we are making ground rules letâs add honesty to that listâŠthatâs a big one for me because I donât have time for gamesâŠjust tell me the truthâŠeven if you think itâll hurt my feelings.â âThatâs a good one!â
âSoâŠwhat about you? What do you want out of this?â âI justâŠI just want to know what it feels like to beâŠtreated well.â âI promise you I can do that.â âOh trust meâŠI know.â âIs there anything else you want orâŠneed from me?â âThere is one more thing.â âWhat is it?â âI need you to save Dave.â âYouâŠneed me to saveâŠDave?â âYes because he means a lot to me and I justâŠI need you to save him.â âOkay sweetheartâŠIâll save him.â âYou promise?â âYesâŠeven if it means he gets a whole heart and brain transplantâŠIâll save him.â âOh thank godâŠI was so worried youâd tell me you canât do it.â âWhy wouldnât I be able to do it? You donât trust my abilities as a mechanic? That hurtsâŠthat actually hurts.â âOh no no Iâm sure youâre great with your hands andâŠgetting dirty andâŠstuff i justâŠthought maybe youâd say it was a waste of money or something.â âIâll be honest with youâŠI could buy you a new car for what itâs going to cost me to fix Dave butâŠI get itâŠhe means a lot to you.â âThank you Eddie.â âAnytime.â
âThisâŠwas really nice EddieâŠthank you.â âIâm happy you had a good time.â âI justâŠI have one more question.â âI was waiting for this oneâŠgo ahead and ask it.â âWhat do I call you now that weâŠhave set up the ground rules and are actuallyâŠmoving forward withâŠthis.â âWhat would you like to call me? Besides Edward.â âIâŠdonât know? WhatâŠdo you want to call me?â âIs it wrong that my first instinct was to say mine?â âYouâŠwant to call meâŠyours? LikeâŠlikeâŠIâmâŠyours?â âI wouldâŠbut if thatâs too assertive or makes you uncomfortable-â âIâd like that.â âYou would?â âYesâŠuh IâŠwould.â âOkayâŠwell you can call me whatever youâd like.â âUhm doesâŠthat include likeâŠboyfriend orâŠsomething?â âSureâŠwhatever feels comfortable.â âOkayâŠthank you againâŠfor everything.â âYouâre welcomeâŠhave a goodnight sweetheartâŠdonât forget to put those flowers in a vase with some water.â âI donât own a-â âIâll bring one by tomorrow.â âYou donât have to do that.â âI knowâŠnow I have a question for you.â âWhat is it?â âWhat time do you normally get up in the morning?â âOh uhmâŠlike nine or so on weekends.â âPerfectâŠIâll be here at ten thenâŠ.goodnight.â âGoodnightâŠuhm can you uh text me when you get home?â âSureâŠcanât have you up all night worried about me.â âExactlyâŠâ âYouâre going to have to go inside or Iâll stand out here and find an excuse to keep talking to you all night.â âOh..rightâŠgoodnight Eddie.â
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To Be Alone
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: You and your family move back to Hawkins after an important loss that leaves you hanging on the air while trying to figure out what is it exactly you want from this world. You didn't expect much from Hawkins but soon the little town proves to you that surprises await you from where you least hope them to be.
Eddie is your older brother's childhood best friend. And when your family moves back again to Hawkins, they quickly pick up their friendship where they left it. But, between disguised study sessions and white lies to your family, your own relationship with Eddie starts to bloom. The only problem is that your brother has this rule for his friends, "NO DATING YOU".
Notes: This is (hopefully if I manage to overcome my ADHD) the first chapter of a series I'm writing about Eddie Munson x Reader. I was inspired by @strangemagicc but wanted to go in another direction.
Note 2: English isn't my first language, so don't be too hard on me if you find any mistakes. But if you do, please point them out.
Note 3: I'm posting this first version after taking my sleeping pills after being awake for 40 hours. Once I get a proper night's rest, I'll come back to proofread it for a second time. Pinky promise.
TW: Loss, self-doubt, eventual smut (if I can commit to being a constant writer), violence, cursing, I'll write more as they come up.
CW: +2K
No Vecna and Upside Down
âSo, guess who I bumped into today?â Jake, your older brother by 2 years asked during dinner.Â
âThat teacher you had a crush on?â you answered jokingly causing Alex to spit his food by trying not to laugh.Â
âThat was Miss Davidson, and she was smokinâ hotâ Jake replied. âBut no, I didnât mean her. I was talking about Eddie. Do you remember him? Eddie Munson, my friend from school.â
âReally?â your dad asked surprised. âSee? This town isnât as bad as you predicted,â he said to the three of you as a way to prove he had made the right choice for the family.Â
Ever since you moved back to Hawkins, you had seen it as a small town where nothing happens. The record store didnât have any tapes from unknown bands or singers for you to discover and the bookstore selection seemed to be curated by a nun. The local Family Video and public library appeared to be the places where you could find things that ventured further beyond the realm of what was seen as ânormalâ.Â
âYeah. That was a surprise.â your brother went on. âAt first I didnât recognize him but knew it was him because the cashier called him out for shoplifting a Judas Priest tape. Surprisingly, people still donât like him.â
âWhy not? He was a nice kid. Your mom loved him, she always said he had good manners for what he had gone through.â
Jake shrugged his shoulders.Â
âLooks like being into heavy metal, and playing DnD does no good for your reputation here.â
âWHAT? HE PLAYS? Can you invite him over for a campaign?â Alex your little brother asked excited by the idea of having someone new to play with.Â
âDonât wet your pants, kid. Youâll get to play with him at school. He runs this DnD club with his friends. I told him about you and he said heâd look after you. Itâll be like having a big brother in high school.â
âI thought he was your age. Why heâs still studying?â your Dad asked.
âHe is, but, he likes school so much that heâs in his third senior year.â
âThat must be boringâ you pointed out.Â
âTold him the same, but he swears this is his year. I guess weâll see. Anyway, he also has this metal band, Corroded Coffin, with his friends. And they play every Tuesday at this dive bar downtown. He invited me to go next week and watch their set. Wanna go watch them?â your brother asked you.
You shook your head. âMetal isnât my kind of thing.â
The rest of the summer went by in a blink. Most of your time was spent in the library looking for something that would help you pass the time and hide from the intense summer heat. You allowed yourself to get lost in the works of female writers or as Jake would call it âangry ladies scribblingsâ.
Spending time in the library was your best plan for the day. In there, you could hide yourself away from the suffocating weather, avoid the gazes of hormonal teenage boys who wanted to make small talk to ask you out, and daydream as you pleased. Even if you werenât actually reading the book that was in your hands, the library was your safe place where you could pretend to read while letting your mind wander freely.Â
You would usually leave your hiding near closing time after your stomachâs grumblings and some unwelcoming looks from the librarian who probably wondered the reason behind your constant visits to the place.Â
During those days, you learned that Jake had already nicely settled in Hawkins. He had perfectly fit into Eddieâs group and would go to band practice with them, or join their horror movie marathons at the designated place for the week. There were times when you arrived home and learned that you had missed Eddie by just a couple of minutes. And you werenât going to lie, you were nervous to see him.Â
â
When you were a little girl you used to have a huge crush on Eddie. His round brown eyes were full of an unknown feeling that had always intrigued you, and you would always try to look at them but without having his gaze over you.Â
You had met Eddie when you were 7 and he was 9. He and your brother were of the same age, and at that time Jake would often talk about how disgusting girls were. So, you assumed that the other boy would think the same about you. As a result, you barely spoke whenever you saw him, which was almost daily. Yet, Eddie was never mean to you, as a matter of fact, the few times he talked to you he was always nice.Â
At that age, you didnât understand much about life. But you knew that Eddie had lost his mom and lived with his âmeanâ dad for a couple of months. The boy had just moved in with his uncle recently, so everything was pretty much new to him and Jake was his first and only friend at school. Fortunately for Eddie, your brother wasnât very popular at school either. He didnât get top marks, nor was good at sports or had any other special talent, and without any of those attributes, he wasnât seen as a desirable friend by the rest of the kids.Â
Because Eddieâs uncle had found himself suddenly with a kid to take care of, that meant he had to work double shifts at the plant for most of the week. Ironically, Social Services would be called the moment the man was caught leaving the boy unattended for more than 20 minutes. How was the man supposed to pay for the kidâs food, clothes, expenses, and more if he couldnât find a job that paid him enough? Those jobs that were available during Eddieâs school hours werenât going to cut it.Â
Seeing the precarious situation the older Munson was in, your mom offered to help refusing to get a no for an answer. She would pick Eddie up from school, help him with his homework, and invite him for dinner for those days on which Eddieâs uncle had to start work early. Your mom even allowed Jake to have sleepovers, so his other friend could stay.Â
During those months you saw how Eddie began to gain a bit more confidence in himself and to get out of his shell. Whenever Jake would tease you and be mean to you, Eddie would always make fun of him for something that had happened at school. And for that, you always saw him as your knight in shining armor.Â
Your mom, being the wise woman she was immediately saw your heart eyes toward Eddie. Even if he didnât say anything to you. You would constantly be turned to look at him because, for you, he was everything a boy should be (or at least what you thought of when you were 7).
But then your mom got sick and you and your family had to leave Hawkins to move in with your grandparents. For those first weeks, you missed having Eddie around, even if you two didnât speak much. His presence was a comfort for you, and he always had a smile for you.Â
â
âI also told Eddie to look after you,â Jake said to you while grabbing a slice of pizza. You and your two brothers were dining alone the night before going back to school. Your dad had to run back to the office to finish filing some papers for a lawsuit.Â
âWhy?â you quickly questioned him partly offended by his decision as if you were the same age as Alex.Â
âBecause we all know you arenât the best decision makerâ
âExcuse me? Iâm not the one who got arrested,â you answered teasingly thinking that your brother was joking with you and had decided to put up an act.Â
âYou know what Iâm talking about,â he said in a serious tone.Â
There were rare occasions in which Jake decided to act as an older brother, and all of them were poorly timed.Â
âWhat did Y/N do?â Alex asked curiously wanting to know about some family drama that had gone over his head.Â
âIâm not hungry anymore.â you simply said while tossing your mozzarella stick to the box and leaving your seat at the table before Jake could say anything.Â
You knew what your brother was talking about. And would agree that it wasnât the best decision you had ever made in your life. But in your defense, you regretted it, and if given the chance you wouldnât do it again. Sadly, life doesnât work like that and you have learned to live with your past mistakes. Still, there were some nights in which you called yourself a lot of awful names because of what had happened.
The next day, you rode your bike to school. Jake offered to drive you too since he was already taking Alex, but you declined the proposal since you were still mad at him for bringing that up. And for telling Eddie (who was your childhood crush) to look after you, you were 17, almost a grown-up. It wasnât your first rodeo at a high school and you could definitely survive being on your own as the new kid.Â
By the time you arrived at your first class of the day, it was almost full, except for a few empty spots at the back of the class. Quickly you walked to the first one your eyes landed on hoping no one else was planning on settling there. You werenât shy, but you didnât want to begin your day by fighting for a seat or worse, having to ask the teacher for help to find a place.Â
The class was in charge of a middle-aged woman who was dressed head-to-toe in a lilac monochromatic tone, including her glasses. When she finished writing her name on the board, she went to close the door to begin that dayâs lesson. But, before it happened a guy came into the room panting and heavy breathing from an obvious effort of running.Â
He stood out from the rest of the class, and not because of the awful condition of his lungs. While the others wore colorful and trendier clothes trying to replicate some of the looks from Wham!, Michael Jackson, or A-ha. He had decided to go for an edgier look, wearing denim, leather, and chains. If the rest of the class wanted to embody the Tom Cruise persona, he had gone for a James Hetfield aura.Â
âFor a moment forgot we still had the pleasure of having you around.â the woman said to the newcomer.Â
âWhat can I say? I wouldnât miss it for anything in the worldâ he said with a huge grin that carried a âfuck youâ.Â
âGo find your seatâ she instructed him by moving her head toward the only empty spot in the room, which happened to be next to you.Â
The guy walked with heavy steps and with the sound of chains juggling, and let himself fall into his designated seat. With his proximity, you were able to distinguish what seemed to be his signature aroma. It was a cloud of cigarettes, weed, and a cheap aftershave (not even the fancy one Jake used to try to impress girls with). And against all odds and what you could have expected of yourself, your nostrils flared desperate to bring into your nose more of his essence.Â
Your breathing alerted him of your presence because the next thing you knew he had turned to look at you and after a quick examination of what he was seeing, he spoke. âHey, havenât seen you around. Whatâs your name?â His voice was soft and it reminded you of a cup of tea with honey and his tone was friendly, long gone was the sarcastic note he had used minutes ago.Â
Before any sound could come out from your open mouth, you heard your teacher yelling âMunson! Donât make me give you detention on the first say!â You shut your mouth and turned your sight straight to the front while he sighed in resignation and slumped back into his seat.Â
âWell fuckâ you thought. What were the odds of you finding Eddie Munson on your first day and crushing on him again? Just like when you were 7.Â
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