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officialaemondtargaryen · 2 years

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Age Of Consent [part six]

Summary: Dustin’s older sister thinks Eddie Munson could be a bad influence on her younger brother due to their history. Can he change her mind?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 2,500

What you’ll find in this series: big angst, wholesome fluff, sexual content, drug use, tobacco use, alcohol use, and a lot of profanity. This is a slow burn- buckle up, buttercup.

A/N: *The Reason by Hoobastank plays on repeat* I'm laughing. Anyways, have another flashback to the day of graduation. I feel like this is the one we've all been waiting for. There's a reference in here to the reader's Halloween costume- keep in mind that she is a theater nerd who spent four years designing sets and costumes. The reference is linked if you want a visual.

Read Part Five || Read Part Seven

Eddie didn't sleep that night.

It wasn't for lack of trying. But with only a few hours until he had to be in Mrs. O'Donell's class and you heavy on his mind, it just wasn't happening. He felt like he was so close tonight; so, so close to finally getting what he wanted- but that was just it, wasn't it? It was what he wanted, not what you wanted.

Maybe there was still something there, he certainly felt like there was; it was all in the way that you looked at him, the way you could not stop smiling, asking him to come back to your place. He couldn't just be imagining that, right? He truly didn't know anymore, you were quite literally driving him insane.

"That day at graduation, I just couldn't do it anymore."

Those ten words repeated over and over through Eddie's mind. He remembered your graduation, he knew he had fucked up the moment that he saw you charging towards him in your cap and gown; diploma in your hand, heels getting stuck in the wet, dewy grass underneath the bleachers. Actually, thinking back, he knew he had fucked up well before that.

He had tried his hardest to pull himself together, he got all dressed up; white button-down shirt, his best pair of black slacks- he even washed his hair. Sure, he was trying in all of the ways that didn't matter, but he was still trying. Of course, he'd rather be wearing a cap and gown. He'd rather be walking across that stage, getting his diploma, and starting his life with you in whatever city you decided on. He wanted that more than anything, but clearly not enough to do the work.

Eddie knew what was coming. He could see it in the way you had been looking at him the last few weeks. He heard it in the tone of your voice. He felt it when you didn't spend the night with him on the weekends and stopped asking him to come over. He had been bracing for the impact for about a month now.

Defensively, he began to act out; pushing you away to make it easier for himself. If he could come out of this having been able to convince himself that it wasn't actually his fault, he would be okay. It would be better to put the blame on you. You didn't want him because he wasn't good enough and he didn't fit into your agenda. It definitely wasn't because of anything he did.

"Seriously?" You asked as you approached him. He was standing there, leaning up against one of the metal beams with red, hazy eyes and a joint in his hand. "Get yourself expelled, why don't you?"

You had grabbed the joint out of his hand and tossed it to the ground, stomping it out. He frowned and reached for you, but you stepped back out of his reach.

"Baby," he whined making grabby hands at you. "Look at you, you look so cute."

"Eddie, stop." He could tell you were annoyed, you had every right to be. "Did you even watch the ceremony?"

"Wh- of course I did!"

"Really?" You were seething, knowing that he was lying. "Then tell me why I looked everywhere for you when I crossed that stage and you weren't there."

Eddie sighed and looked up away from you, his head hitting against the metal beam. This was it. This was the drop of the metaphorical shoe. He had finally done it. Somehow, he had not only nailed himself shut in that coffin, but he had buried himself alive, as well. The look on your face broke him; the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to ruin the little bit of makeup that you had on.

"Look at me, Eddie." He wouldn't, he refused. "This is over. Please don't call, don't show up at my house- I never want to see you again, I mean it."

He turned his face out of view from you, not wanting you to see the tears in the corners of his eyes. In his peripheral, he could see you still standing there, but he couldn't face you. Without another word, you turned around and left. He wanted to run after you, make a thousand promises that he wasn't ready to keep, but he couldn't. Deep down inside he knew, though it would take him two years to admit it, you were right.

Dustin slammed his tray down on the lunch table, causing Eddie to jump from his thoughts. He slammed the little, plastic straw through his juice box with more force than needed and Eddie could tell the kid knew something.

"So, my sister was crying in her room at 4:00 AM." The younger kid began. "Would you care to explain to the class how you let that happen after I set up the perfect night for you?"

"It's over, man." Eddie sighed.

The table was shocked.

"Over!?" One of the kids at the table yelled.

"What do you mean it's over!?" Mike asked.

"It's done," Eddie shrugged. "This was fucking stupid."

Dustin huffed, shaking his head, refusing to believe that this would be the end. Dustin had only seen you cry three times- when your dad died, about two years ago, and last night. You were his sister, and he wasn't blind, he knew you loved Eddie. He was so goddamn optimistic and sure about it that it made Eddie sick.

"It's not over," your brother said firmly looking his older friend in the eye. "It's not. I was there for most of last night, I have eyes. She was totally, madly, in love!"

Eddie shook his head. "It's different now, man. You wouldn't understand."

Not wanting to discuss it further, Eddie grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder before stomping off towards the parking lot. He muttered to himself the whole way, mocking your brother and scolding himself, prompting a couple of strange looks from the other students. He could hear Dustin calling out from behind him, but Eddie just kept going, making a beeline for his van.

"Eddie!" Dustin called, having followed him out into the parking lot. "Will you please stop for a damn second!?"

"What do you want, Henderson?" He ferociously unlocked the van and threw his backpack across the driver's seat into the passenger side floorboard. "Look, what part of 'I'm done' don't you understand?"

"I get it, I get it!" Dustin held his hands up in defense. "I just- I think that you're making a mistake." He admitted. "So, in the case that you come to agree with me, she's going to Jackie's Haskell's Halloween party next Saturday."

Eddie hated parties. He was only ever invited, not because people wanted to spend time with him or actually be his friend, but because of what he could provide to them given the right price. Jackie Haskell's Halloween party was no exception. He had a little over a week to figure out what he was going to say to you but actually saying it was a different story.

He sat in his van for almost 45 minutes, hands clammy, knee nervously bouncing as he watched the yard become more and more crowded with kids and red plastic cups. Turning around and going home was still an option, he didn't even care about losing out on a couple of sales. After the last time that he saw you, Eddie wasn't sure what to do. What would he even say? An apology wouldn't be good enough, he already knew that. This was definitely a mistake on his part.

He could feel the bass of the stereo system reverberating through him as he made his way closer to the front door. If he was going to turn around and leave, this was his chance.

"Come on, Steve," It was your voice. "It's ABBA, you can't not dance to ABBA!"

There you were, walking right past him, drink in one hand and Steve Harrington's hand in the other. Yeah, this was definitely a mistake. Still, Eddie stayed where he was, watching you from the kitchen with a beer in his hand. You were so stunningly beautiful and stood out from every other person at that party. He couldn't help but smile as you danced, mouthing the words to what he knew was one of your favorite songs.

You threw an arm over Steve's shoulder as the next song came on, taking another long sip of your drink. His chest tightened at the sight of the physical contact, and suddenly his mind was filled with the thought that you had moved on. Suddenly, he wasn't having a good time. Thankfully, one of the kids from the party approached him to make a sale and he had a chance to excuse himself.

Eddie lingered outside once he was finished with his sale, hoping a cigarette, the cool air, and another beer would calm his nerves. Meanwhile, inside, you were beginning to feel dizzy. The room was spinning and it felt like you could feel the alcohol in your stomach sloshing around. It wasn't a particularly good feeling, plus you were burning up.

"I need some air, it's so hot in here," you mentioned to Steve who nodded in response.

The party had been exactly what you needed to forget about Eddie. Despite the fact that you were thinking about him now. The music and alcohol drowned most of it out, though. And it was nice to see Steve, you didn't get to hang out with him as much after you both graduated. He was constantly working, as were you, and with classes as Hawkins Community College, it was just hard to make the time.

There wasn't a line of guys waiting to dance with you, but Steve- who was somehow strangely close to your brother- was an exception. Maybe in another life you'd have dated him, but the truth was that the two of you just had absolutely nothing in common. Still, it was nice to dance with someone and just let go.

You stumbled out the front door and clunked yourself down on the concrete with a heavy sigh and pulled off your heels. They definitely weren't your favorite type of footwear, but a pair of Chuck's would have ruined your costume. Your feet arched upon being freed from their uncomfortable prisons and you sighed with relief.

"Ziegfeld Girl," you looked to your right to see none other than Eddie Munson leaning up against the side of the house. Your eyes subconsciously rolled and you cursed under your breath. Here you were, having consumed way too much alcohol, alone in someone's front yard with your ex-boyfriend. Perfect. "You make that yourself?"

"You should know me well enough to know that I did." Your voice was monotonous. "What are you supposed to be, the neighborhood creep?"

"Look's like you've had quite the night," he added sarcastically with a smirk, moving to stand in front of you. He was looking down on you, something that you found incredibly ironic. "Having fun with ah- what's that douchebag's name?"

You rolled your eyes even harder this time. "Eddie, you know who that is, don't even pretend like you don't. Jealousy is not very becoming on you."

"Steve, right?" He asked, "Steve Harrington, that's it."

"Not that I have to explain myself to you," you held your hands out, beckoning for him to help you stand up to which he obliged. "But Steve is just a friend."

The two of you were now face-to-face, mere inches between your noses. You were still standing on the bottom step which brought you up to his height with your heels on. His wide, brown eyes reflected the orange lights that hung over Jackie's front door. Once again, you found yourself lost in those fucking eyes.

"You look beautiful, you know that?" He whispered.

"Yeah, well, you look fucking stupid." You turned around and made your way back through the front door, leaving Eddie to follow you. "You didn't even dress up."

"Hate to break it to you, doll, but I'm not going to sell weed in a clown outfit," He argued over the music, keeping up with your pace through the sea of drunk kids. You laughed as you made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself another drink. It took you all about ten seconds to down it. "How much of that have you had?"

"You're still here, so not enough." You stumbled and poured yourself another one. "You should have one, might help you loosen up, Dad."

"You have most certainly had enough, sweetheart." He sounded judgemental and you hated it. "Nope," he took the cup from you before you could take another sip. "You're done. You haven't even given the last one time to hit you, yet. And this-" Eddie stuck his nose into the cup. "That smells like fruit punch gasoline."

You whined at him.

"Alright, come on." Eddie sat the cup down on the counter and bent at the knees before hoisting you over his shoulder.

"Edward Munson!" You screamed, trying desperately to pull down your dress in the back where it had risen up. "Put me down right now!"

"Go back to what you were doing kids," he yelled out at all of the other party-goers who were staring. "Nothing to see here!"

"Eddie!" You hollered once more. Your legs were kicking but to no avail, he had a pretty good grip around them. "Eddie put me down! You have no right!"

He dropped you down to your feet next to his van, his hands running up the sides of your dress before settling on your hips. You wanted him so desperately, your lips aching to kiss him- it'd been the only thing that you could think about since that night in the treehouse.

He slid his tongue over his bottom lip in anticipation and your eyes dropped down to that perfect, pink rosebud mouth of his. You might have been hallucinating that he was inching closer and closer, or maybe it was the fact that you felt as if the world was spinning backward. You stumbled back a step and his fingers gripped deeper into your waist.

"I am so drunk," you muttered and he chuckled. "But, goddamn it, I want to kiss you so bad."

"That's probably the alcohol talking, sweet thing." Eddie opened up the door to his van and held his hand out for you to help you up into the passenger side. "Let's get you sobered up and then we'll see how you feel."

You nodded your head in reply, thankful that he wasn't about to take advantage of you while you were absolutely plastered. He really was a gentleman in that aspect, always had been.

"Just don't take me home," you muttered and leaned your head on the cool glass of the window. "My mom would kill me if she saw me like this."

"Alright," he agreed and threw the van into gear. "My place it is then."

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