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#shoalweedhence writes
shoalweedhence · 1 month
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You were out my League
Warnings: Reader with self-confidence issues
Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN Reader
Content Tag: Hurt/Comfort & Fluff
Word Count: 1543
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Just as you turn the page of the book lying in your lap, you feel the covers beneath you shift slightly. Glancing away from the page, you watch as Eddie, eyes closed and fully immersed in his own world, bobs his head to the music you can faintly hear as it filters through his headphones. Your eyes lower down to his fidgeting hand, fingers splayed on the bed -his bed- as they tap along to the melody. The rings adorning his knuckles glint in the afternoon sunlight streaming through his open window. The warm air caresses your face, guiding you like a soft hand tilting your chin back up. You look at your boyfriend’s concentrated features, his eyebrows knitting, the edge of his nose pinching, the corners of his mouth moving almost imperceptibly in a downward motion.
You could lose yourself for hours at the sight of him -actually, you already had, many times before, and did not plan on stopping anytime soon, partly because you enjoyed looking at him very much, and partly because you thought that, maybe, if you looked at him just long enough, the answer to a seemingly life-long question you had would finally be answered.
Because, seriously, how *had* you managed to go out with him? 
You had been told many times that you should not question it. ‘If he’s happy with you and you’re happy with him, don’t overthink it’ your friends of the Hellfire Club had been quick to reassure you, both wanting you to be happy as well as rooting for their leader to finally have some more positives in his life. 
You wanted to not overthink, of course, and you did your best to not let your mind wander whenever Eddie did something kind for you; that one time he agreed to give you a lift back home because your car was getting fixed, the way he would hold your hands -whenever the Hoosier weather decided to cool for two days in the year- and bring them up to his face, blowing a warm breath on them, the way he would bring you food to share and a movie to watch when things were tough, the way he was patient and considerate, but just persistent enough to have you explain what your limits were in this relationship… he would just drop anything he was doing in a heartbeat if it was for you. Had you ever done anything like that for him?
Ultimately, though, the voice at the back of your head would just not stop nagging you, and you learned to live with this constant headache.
You jumped a little when you felt something warm touch your hand. You looked down hastily, noticing a ringed hand covering yours before your eyes flitted back up towards Eddie’s.
“What is it?” He asked, taking off his headphones with his free hand.
“What do you mean?” You answered after a pause, your throat feeling stuffy, as if it was full of cotton, since you had not talked for a while.
“You were staring,” he said, and as your eyes averted his from embarrassment. “I don’t mind, it’s just,” he added quickly, shifting his position on the bed so he was facing you, both of his hands playing with yours, “sometimes you get that look in your eyes, and it seems like you’re not having happy thoughts…” 
Of course he had noticed. One more reason to get him a trophy for best boyfriend on the planet, you thought.
But despite how elated your heart felt, singing his praises for how well he was able to read you, now, you also felt quite vulnerable. He was your partner, and a wonderful one at that, and you knew you could trust him -seriously, you could not imagine yourself with someone you did not fully trust, and Eddie met that criteria with remarkable skill. 
Still, you wondered if he might take it badly. After all, if you told him you did not feel you deserved his love, did that imply that you thought he might expect something from you which you were not aware of? Did you think he was manipulating you? Were you the one leading him on, hiding what you were really thinking? Did you even trust that anyone could love you?
“You don’t have to tell me,” Eddie said when he saw you spiralling down into your thoughts, “but I want to be here for you, and I will listen if there’s anything you want to tell me.”
The sound of his voice, deep and slightly gravely as he kept it low with a confidential tone, brought you back to reality. The feeling of his calloused fingertips tracing abstract patterns on the back of your palm now registering through your unfocused senses. As you looked back up at him, meeting his curious and concerned eyes you felt the shackles of your heart slacken.
“I just…” You trailed off, searching his soulful eyes for a hint of irritation, but instead finding bucket loads of compassion, “you are so out of my league.”
You were expecting a laugh, and he did smile a bit, but instead, he tilted his head to the side.
“Why do you think that?”
You inhaled, feeling the contents of the inside of your heart make their way up your throat, and as soon as you opened your mouth, you felt any hope of restraint dissolve.
“Well, you’re incredible, in every possible way. You’re strong, impossibly kind, extremely skilled at anything you set your mind to, you are so panoptically passionate, you’re funny, you’re unfathomably dependable and you never let your friends down, you’re goofy, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, you can sense when people need cheering up and you just cheer them up by, I don’t know, some kind of Eddie magic,” you gestured with your free hand as if you held a wand, earning a chuckle from Eddie, “you’re just so amazing, I don’t think I deserve-”
You stopped yourself before the sentence could fully leave your lips, swallowing back the last word with difficulty. When you spoke again, your voice was quieter:
“And then you go around and do the sweetest things for me, the most touching gestures and you’re so thoughtful…”
You sighed, taking a few seconds to steady your breathing as your soliloquy left your lungs empty. You looked at the book in your lap, the words incoherently blurring together, the sentences stringing themselves in one long incomprehensible line. Your eyes moved away from the paper, getting distracted by the bigger palms having captured your own. 
“You don’t think you deserve that?” Eddie asked calmly.
You looked up at him, his brown eyes shifting with an emotion you found impossible to decipher. You nodded.
Eddie smiled sadly, “Sweetheart, you’re like the perfect opposite of a Hobbit.”
If it were not for the whiplash you had just been victim to, your heart melting at the nickname he gave you, followed by the name of a fictional race you were not necessarily certain you wanted to be associated with, you surely would have answered more eloquently. Instead, only a ‘huh’ escaped your lips.
“You’re exactly like Bilbo’s evil doppelgänger,” Eddie continued, nodding to himself.
“...I’m not following.”
“Anytime something bad happens during his journey, what does Bilbo Baggins do? He ruminates -which you’re quite good at doing too, that’s maybe your one similarity- but he looks out onto the unjust world that took him out of his cozy, warm and delightful Hobbit hole and he vents his frustration outwards. You, my dear, do the opposite. Anytime something good happens to you, and yes, I will speak of myself as a positive in your life, that string of compliments you gave me is going to serve as an ego boost for years to come, you start questioning it, thinking back on all the negative you’ve ever experienced and wondering if you do deserve that good.” One of Eddie’s hands left yours and he cupped your cheek, “be more like Bilbo. Take credit for the good things when they happen and be frustrated at the world when things go wrong, not the other way around.”
You closed your eyes, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill and leaned into his touch. 
“Come here,” Eddie whispered, pulling you into his chest as he rested his head on top of yours.
Closing your eyes, you focused on his strong heartbeat that you could feel pulsating at regular intervals against your back. There was also his scent, which you could now take full inhales of as you stood closer to him, though the smell of weed was the most intense one. Your fingers idly played with the pins and patches on his jean jacket, tracing the designs that you knew by heart.
After a few moments, you turned your head just a bit, looking up at him. You bit your lip as your smile threatened to morph into laughter at the joke formulating in your head.
“If I become more like Bilbo I might just grow long curly hairs on my feet, though.”
The echo of Eddie’s laugh reverberated against your back as his chest shook.
“I’d still love you.”
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shoalweedhence · 1 month
Text
One more, just one more
Warnings: / 
(too much kissing, does that count? It’s very sweet & mushy, sorry not sorry)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN Reader
Content Tag: Fluff
Word Count: 1512
Inspired by: @str4ngergirlw0rld (is it ok to tag people like this, idk how to tumblr, help)
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“Eddie…” 
You sighed for the umpteenth time this morning. Ever since you had woken up, your boyfriend had found himself in a very clingy -but in a cute way- mood. 
From the moment he had emerged into the kitchen of your apartment, his hair somehow messier than usual with two pieces sticking up from the top of his head and giving him small horns, you had laughed and he had captured your waist in-between his arms.
***
“What?” He asked groggily, his voice rough and still perfectly laced with sleep.
“If I didn't know better, I’d say all that metal music really is turning you into some kind of satanic vessel.”
His eyes thinned, almost disappearing behind puffed out cheeks.
“Well, maybe I am one.”
Without further explanation, Eddie dove for your neck and you felt his nose brush against the exposed skin there. He sighed deeply, awakening a small army of goosebumps across your body. You gave in trying to move as he took a few long breaths, his demonic hair tickling the side of your face. When he pulled away, you barely had enough time to process what was happening before the feeling of his lips on yours quickly left you dazed.
Eddie moved past you to reach into the cupboard and you huffed, breathless.
“‘Morning to you too.”
Eddie in the morning was, well, quite unpredictable. Not that he would ever turn into an actual demon -or that you thought he was in any capacity to, anyway. Still, the way he moved around the kitchen, perfectly free of anyone else's expectations, intensified the voice in your head that tried to convince you of how comfortable he felt around you -clearly, with the hair horns and all… 
Everything he did in the hour following his waking up only tightened the grip he had on your heart. 
As you basked in his early aura, the allure of his back peaking through his shirt captivating your attention, you felt yourself reach up. You slid your hands into his hair from behind, untangling a few strands as gently as you could, making sure you were not pulling too sharply on any single hair. The fragile structure of the ‘horns’ was soon disrupted and they rapidly faded into the rest of the wavy, tangled mass.
“You know what I think about when you do that?” Eddie quietly said, his back to you still.
“What?” 
The sound of your own voice sounded far away as you focused dutifully on your task. There was something about touching his hair that always seemed to just mesmerise you. Maybe it was something to do with how careless he seemed about his grooming when it came to this specific part of his body; but that only made you want to double-down with efforts to take care of it… of him.
Because of your concentrated state, you were a bit startled when Eddie turned around, his hands suddenly resting on your waist as if they were magnetically pulled to it.
“It makes me think about how much I want to kiss you.”
You took one quick breath in before Eddie’s mouth was on yours. It was a simple, short and sweet peck, but it was enough to leave your lips tingling. The warm breath that cascaded down your lips as he pulled away only worsened the craving for his mouth on yours again. You blinked up at him, feeling your heartbeat trying to copy the rhythm of the drums of Eddie’s favourite songs.
The thought made you smile and, just as you opened your mouth to speak, Eddie’s lips found your own again and you had to swallow your words back up, only a muffled squeal escaping your throat. 
Eddie then started to attack your lips with kisses, breathing out one word each time your lips parted.
“Why, are, you, so, cute?” 
“I don’t know,” you laughed, placing your hands on his chest to stop him from placing more devilishly tempting kisses on your lips.
Eddie sighed, taking hold of your hands as he peppered your knuckles with kisses instead. 
“Eddie,” you called, licking your lips as you still felt the tingle from the pressure he had just put on them.
He looked down at you, his warm brown eyes hooded as he gently accompanied your hands back down to your sides before he let them go.
Just as you thought that he was going to step back from you, a quick look at the clock beside your microwave informing you that it was nearly time for you to go to work, you were startled again when his lips found yours.
“Eddie,” you sighed, stifling a chuckle, “I have to go soon.”
He pecked you again, placing his forehead against your own as he whined, “but I don’t want you to…”
You smiled, resting your hands on his cheeks as you were the one to engage the kiss this time, holding Eddie’s face in place for a bit longer.
Whether by the authoritative force of responsibilities, or some magical, Disney-like spell that had been broken by you engaging the kiss, Eddie let you go, his features set in a deep pout.
You could not help yourself but reach for the apple of his cheek and place a soft kiss there, his eyes following your every movement.
“See you tonight,” you said, your hand catching his and giving it a squeeze.
You made for the bathroom, then, giving yourself a quick look over in the mirror to make sure you felt presentable, and also wanting to see if your lips were as puffy as they felt. 
They were. Even more so than you had imagined, actually.
You sighed, but the smile on your face was evident.
So evident indeed that when you exited the bathroom, making your way towards the front door and seeing your boyfriend standing there like a monolith, his shoulders wide and squared as he waited for you, he was not even impressed in the slightest by the warning tone of your voice.
“Eddie…” 
“One more?” He asked, “just one more?”
You shook your head but took the few final steps towards him, leaning on your tiptoes to reach his face. The fabric of his shirt wrinkled as your fingers, subconsciously having made their way there out of their own volition, tightened when you felt Eddie guide your back to the wall.
“Eddie,” you exhaled, your eyes thinning at him.
“Please, just one more?”
You rolled your eyes, rolling on the balls of your feet and standing on your tiptoes again to kiss him.
But even as you parted, Eddie did not move. He stood perfectly still, imposing as he loomed over you and blocked your only way out of your apartment.
“Eddie…”
“Last one?”
You quirked an eyebrow at him, gathering as much intensity in your stare as you could.
“Last one,” you answered, this time reaching your hands to the back of his head and pulling him down.
And yet, when you pulled away, he still did not move.
***
“If you give me another kiss, I promise I will wash the dishes tonight, I swear,” he pleaded, his eyes rounding up with hope.
“Even the box grater?” 
He winced at that, and you could see his intelligent eyes considering your deal. Finally, he nodded his head, looking a bit defeated but licking his lips in anticipation, “even the box grater.”
And surely, you did kiss him again, pulling him towards you for an extra couple of seconds. After all, if he was going to wash the famously impossible-to-clean utensil, he would need all the additional support he could get.
And still, as your heels landed back on the ground and you opened your eyes, he still did not budge.
“Eddie, come on,” you said with an edge, “I really have to go.”
Looking as if he had been electrocuted, Eddie's hands left the wall behind you as he pulled back. You walked around him and placed your hand on the door handle.
“Are you mad?” 
His voice was quiet and you turned around to find his features looking genuinely nervous, bordering distressed. 
You sighed, your fingers tightening around the cold metal of the handle, “mad? No. Frustrated? A little bit.”
His face fell a little at your words, a strained smile on his lips as he tried his best to appear understanding of your reaction.
You let your hand fall back beside you and stepped in front of him, “I want to be mad,” you said, your voice coming out a bit lower than you intended, “but how could I ever resist that face?” 
Your fingers found the collar of his shirt, gripping the fabric as you pulled him down and pressed one last *final* kiss to his lips. 
“I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple and taking a step back, leaning against the wall as he watched you leave. 
“I love you too,” you called as you opened and closed the door behind you, a smile on your face, “you beautiful devil.”
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shoalweedhence · 26 days
Text
A Time and a Place - Chapter 1
Chapter 2 || Chapter 3
Warnings: Sad Ending!! Please note that even though the first two chapters of the fic are just pure good old fluff and sunshine and rainbows, this was written with a bad ending in mind so, proceed carefully.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN Reader
Content Tag: Fluff & Angst
Word Count: 16k (Chapter 1: 4k / Chapter 2: 4.5k / Chapter 3: 7.5k)
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Chapter 1
When The Eddie Munson had first approached you, asking you if you wanted to come watch one of his band's open rehearsals, you thought you might just drop to the floor unconscious.
Though maybe not as well known and spoken about as the Hellfire Club, many other smaller groups of outcasts sprouted like wildflowers each year at Hawkins High. Most of you stayed at a safe distance from the others; after all, a bigger group was bound to attract more eyes and, therefore, more attention -which, needless to say considering the population of jocks seemed exponentially larger compared to any other clique, was never a good thing.
As is custom for most groups, yours had found its hangout spot in a hallway. The one near the art classes department had always been the most silent and, sometimes, you had even found a classroom unlocked and had snuck in there with your friends for some quiet time before your own classes. This happy Wednesday, however, was not one of those lucky times and you just sat down in a corner, curled over your notebook at the far end of the corridor, slumped over your work, a sight that would make the Hunchback of Notre-Dame proud. Your friends chatted at the opposite end, also keeping guard in case any ‘intruders’ -most likely students from other cliques- tried to invade your space.
Therefore, when you looked up from your page and saw Eddie Munson -as your eyes never seemed quite capable of leaving him alone when you found yourself in the same vicinity as him- talking to your friends and handing them each a slip of paper, you wondered what this breaking of unspoken rules might mean; and you would come to learn very soon.
Still, the shift in social rules was not the sole reason why your heart started beating madly against your ribcage.
Eddie had always caught your eye. From the very first day you had stepped into Hawkins High’s cafeteria, the other two people in your year who had laughed at the nerdy reference you had made at your side, the laughter at the Hellfire Club table had echoed loudly against the white, clinical-looking walls. A few people at the nearby tables -jocks, if their football jackets and boisterous attitude was anything to go by- had huffed, one of them chucking their food with a bent spoon only for the piece of mashed potatoes to miss its target and hurl past Eddie’s head and splatter onto one of the staff’s apron. After being taken away by the school staff, the table of jocks cleared out and the Hellfire table’s chatter started again at a lower volume and everybody’s attention returned back to their own meals. Well, everybody’s except yours. Because never had a high school cafeteria meal managed to look as appealing as Eddie did to you.
And your friends knew that. Not that you thought they would ever actually seek out Eddie to tell him, or that the secret of your admiration -as you refused to refer to it as what it was obviously, very much, and unmistakably not, i.e. a crush- would ever be jeopardised by them.
Despite that, you could practically feel your heart in your throat as you watched your friends talk with him, their mouths imperceptibly moving as they took the pieces of paper from Eddie, smiling. You tried to rationalise that he was speaking to them, and therefore, as he did not -could not- know that you were one of their friends, there was just no way he would come to talk to you… right?
Maybe, just maybe, you would need to check in with an oracle soon because, clearly, your predictions were all wrong.
One of your friends looked around, the tilt of their head as they scanned the area much too familiar for your liking and your eyes snapped back to their previous position, fixed straight down ahead at the essay in front of you that you had been agonising over for the past hour. Eddie’s sudden appearance had been the much-needed miraculous distraction you deserved from it, and yet, it might have also been one you were not ready to face.
You tried to focus on the lines in front of you, reading and re-reading the same couple of words as they lost all meaning, your brain finding it impossible to decipher the symbols it saw as letters, and the letters together as words with meanings, and them linked together as anything but a wild jungle of lines and dots and-
“Hey.”
You looked up slowly, feeling every single one of your muscles tense up, and for a second, you swore you could sense all the sinew stretch and pull, ready to snap at any moment.
Though, somehow, your body shook itself in motion as you saw Eddie crouch to get to your eye-level and you straightened up -no more shrimp-looking spine for today, sorry Quasimodo.
You let your notebook slide gently on your lap, your legs criss-crossing in front of you.
“H-hi.”
Eddie smiled, holding up a flyer on which you could make out the words ‘Corroded Coffin’ in a heavily stylised font.
“My band is having an open rehearsal at one of the big bars in town this weekend,” he started, and you took the piece of paper from him, desperate to have something to hold onto that was not your fugitive sanity, “it could be a pretty big deal for us if we get enough people to show up so…” he trailed off, and your eyes naturally flitted back up to look at him, “if you’re interested in metal music at all, we’d love to have you.”
You looked back down at the flyer in your hands, fingertips tracing the time and place of the show, time at which you knew you would be free, and place which you could easily drive to.
“I think I could make it,” you finally said once your nerves had settled.
“Really?” Eddie said, his voice a little high-pitched as his eyes filled with hope at your response. He cleared his throat before adding, “I mean, that’s great, amazing!” There was a pause, and you thought he might release you from the grips of his overwhelming presence when you saw him drawing in a breath, “Do you listen to metal?”
His voice was quiet as he asked you, almost a whisper, and his eyes darted over your face for a response from your features before your mouth even opened.
You smiled, “I dabble.” Your eyes fell to the Judas Priest pin on his jacket, “Killing Machine has had a good hold on me for a few years now.”
For half a second, you were not certain if Eddie was taken aback so strongly that his butt was about to hit the floor, or if you were just imagining his reaction, but no fall happened. Instead, Eddie clutched the remaining flyers to his chest with both of his hands.
“A metalhead after my own heart,” he said, the exhilaration in his pupils all consuming as they widened, swallowing most of his irises.
You tried to stifle the way your heart melted at his antics with a laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
‘I could say the same thing about you,’ you thought.
A few seconds later, Eddie’s watch beeped and he stood up quickly, uttering a “shit” as he took note of the time.
“Gotta run, see you Saturday, yeah?”
You nodded and watched him dash for the other end of the hallway, passing by your friends and calling out to them with a “see ya!” as he rushed past them.
As soon as he was gone, footsteps echoing into the corridor for a few seconds before falling perfectly silent behind him, your friends were right beside you, asking you for details on your conversation and, obviously, demanding thanks for guiding him in your direction.
You sighed, a smile on your face, and hugged both of their cheekily grinning-selves tightly.
---
You had gone to the concert, obviously. You could not really step back from your commitment anyway since both of your friends told you that if they went, there was ‘absolutely no way in hell’ they were going to let another chance of talking with Eddie leave your grasp.
The few days leading up to the event had been nerve-wrecking. You had spent each waking second on edge as if the sword of Damocles hovered above you and would come slicing you up in twain if you were to even see Eddie’s face before the big day. Thankfully, the last few days of the school week were uneventful on the Eddie front -though you were not as happy about that fact as you tried to convince your friends of it.
Still, you were really glad you had gone because the show they put on was marvellous. Doug, Jeff and Gareth, whom you had been told were Eddie’s bandmates from your friends, all played skillfully and in perfect synchronicity. You were truly blown away by their level of mastery for ‘just a high school band’. A testament to that was the amount of people who showed up, clearly more than even the owner of the bar had expected since he started looking overwhelmed with orders fairly early in the evening. There was no doubt that some people were just there to drink themselves out of consciousness, probably the regulars of the bar; and yet every single person had at some point during the evening looked at the stage and gawked at the musicians in awe.
Granted, you had no right to feel proud about it, you had merely showed up and had learned the names of three out of the four members mere minutes before they had hopped on stage after all.
And yet, when Eddie scanned the room just before slipping the guitar strap on his shoulder and his gaze landed on you and your friends, his eyes widened in recognition and he waved. As he had turned around to make the last adjustments to the settings of his amp, your friends gave you knowing, shit-eating grins and you were quick to shush them with a solemn expression, as if you were at the cinema and the opening sequence of a movie had started.
But there were no screens here, just pure, direct, raw energy. Electricity rushed through the air with every beating of the drums, each strumming of the guitars, each plucking of the bass and each note slipping out of Eddie’s mouth. You had known Eddie played guitar as it was a pretty popular fact to throw around and make fun of him for -which you did not quite get, but what was there to understand in a bully’s behaviour really… However, when he brought the mic stand up on the small stage and stood behind it as the bar’s chitter-chatter lessened and they started playing, you were sure you felt your jaw hit the floor, and it got stuck there when Eddie started singing.
Eddie’s voice when he sang was like a smooth delicacy; no bumps or lumps upsetting your nerves, though his voice did become a little raspier the longer he used it, just an indisputably harmonious quality to it. It held a perfectly even tonality throughout their gig, never losing in intensity or accuracy.
When Eddie announced the last song, a part of you -a really, really small part of you- cheered at the idea of being freed from the sweaty, heavy and alcohol-permeated room, but the rest of your heart sank at his words. With a touch of gloom on your spirits, echoed by many disappointed voices in the room, you kept your focus on the stage.
“This song was not supposed to be on our main setlist…” Eddie said, placing one of his hands around the mic, two of his fingers pinching his guitar pick which gleamed against the bar’s lights. His eyes scanned the crowd until they fixated on you and he smiled, “but someone I met recently brought back memories of one of my favourite albums so… I hope you like it.”
The gasp you let out after the melody started was audible to your friends, even over the musicians playing. You could hardly believe that, out of all the songs they could have chosen to play, Eddie had managed to squeeze one of your favourites from the album you had mentioned to him once, the only time you two had ever spoken.
It made you a bit sad, in a way, to think that if he had gone around every other clique of outcasts of Hawkins High -and you could see some of them had stayed for the entire performance- none of them had maybe quite as strong an interest in the same things as Eddie did. And maybe that was not something to be sad about, maybe your differences were what made you so interesting -not the world bullies would have chosen but, again, when have bullies ever been right?
You shook your head, forcing the negative feelings out of your head as best as you could as you enjoyed the rest of the evening.
Once the song had finished and thunderous cheers echoed from all around the room, there was a rush of people leaving the bar, leaving you a bit more at ease and, suddenly, not so keen on skipping out of the, now, seemingly whimsical place.
Your friends told you they were going outside for a breather but would not let you join them.
“He’s right there, just go talk to him,” one of them had said.
“But, he’s with the rest of his band! “ You’d whisper-shouted back, “I can’t just climb up the stage and steal him away!”
“He played a whole-ass song for you. I think he wants you to climb up on stage and steal him away,” the other replied.
Sighing in acceptance of your fate, you looked back at the stage, seeing them packing up their gear.
“Ok, ok, I’m going,” you said, more to yourself than to your friends but they cheered you on anyway, watching as you made your way to the stage.
Jeff was the first one to see you approach them and he smiled.
“Hey, thanks for coming, hope you enjoyed the show,” he said with such ease that you really had no qualms thinking he was meant to be on stage.
“It was awesome! You guys were great,” you replied wholeheartedly.
Your eyes shifted from him as you watched Eddie pack up his guitar.
“Ah,” Jeff said, pulling your attention back to him, “you’re Eddie’s metalhead sweetheart, got it.”
Before you had the time to process what had just been said, Jeff spun around and called for the Corroded Coffin’s leader. Eddie’s eyes blinked at him first, and then his eyes fell on you.
“Hey,” he said, jogging over to you, “wanna hop on?” He said, gesturing to the stage.
“Oh, huh, yeah,” you stuttered, taking hold of the hand Eddie was extending at you.
The force of the pull was just enough to leave you perfectly stable on your feet, though Eddie’s free hand reached for your shoulder, hovering it as he made sure you were ok. You took a few seconds to get your bearings, realising you were now standing exactly where Eddie had spent the entirety of the performance, a slight mark on the reflective panels at your feet being the sole indication a mic stand had ever been there.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asked sheepishly, retrieving his arm from your side and you looked up at him.
“Y-yeah, I loved it! You’re all so good, I didn’t know that much skill could be found at Hawkins High.”
Eddie laughed, his hand patting his chest where his heart is.
“Why, thank you,” he bowed with a flourish, looking up at you as he added quietly, almost as if asking for confidence, “did you have a favourite song?”
You bit your lip, a shot of confidence coursing through your veins, “hm, I’m not sure, they were all so good…” you trailed off, mimicking being deep in thought.
In truth, what you said was not exactly incorrect; you had enjoyed the entirety of the set, but you could not deny that the last song, especially since it was so close to your heart, made you reach cloud nine.
Eddie leaned back up to his full height, towering over you a little as he crossed his arms, “I want to feel disappointed in your response, but that is such a good compliment.”
You laughed, watching as his arms fell back at his sides, “ok, Mr. Ego,” you said, palms up as you dropped the teasing act, “maybe that last one was extra good, but just by a tiny bit.”
Eddie fistbumped the air and turned back towards his band mates, “hear that guys? I know how to make a great setlist.” He was promptly ignored by the other three members who had finished packing everything up and were conversing amongst each other, ready to head home.
“You guys must be tired, I shouldn’t keep you,” you said and Eddie turned back towards you.
“It’s more than alright. Anything for a…” he trailed off, his posture becoming comically insecure, “fan?”
You nodded vigorously, feeling the smile on your face stretch your cheeks to their limit, “definitely.”
Eddie smiled, his eyes boring into yours for a few seconds before Gareth called out to him, he blinked, “Ok, well, huh,” Eddie shifted on his feet as he looked at you, “we also play at The Hideout, on Tuesdays. I know it’s in the middle of the week and the bar’s a little out of town but, if you and your friends want to come back…”
Insecure Eddie seemed to take over as he wrapped his arms around himself, though the look on your face as he told you this was seemingly enough to chase his doubts away for the moment.
“I’m sure they’d love to see you guys play again, I mean, I do. I’ll try my best to be there.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded and, as Eddie was about to add something else Gareth called out to him again, but, this time, was punched in the arm by Jeff, and the two of them started tussling while Doug stood unbothered on a leftover stool.
“Well, I’d better go before they break something,” Eddie chuckled, one of his hands coming up to twirl his hair before he unwrapped himself from his own limbs and waved at you, “bye!”
“Thank you again!” You called after him as the group exited through the back of the bar and you made your way to the front door.
You were attacked with questions from your friends as soon as the bar’s doors closed behind you. You did your best to give satisfying answers to all of their poking, and, in doing so, the evening you had just spent started to fully dawn on you. Millions of thoughts kept running through your head at a speed you could not even track, and yet, out of all this turmoil of incentives and infatuation, one stood out.
Eddie had helped you climb the stage…
He had wanted you there, and not only as a groupie, but also as an equal. You had felt that him pulling you up on stage was a way for you to connect directly with his rockstar persona, he had cast the metaphorical line to a side of him he had wanted you to see, and you were so glad you had taken the bait.
‘I guess, step two is stealing him away’, you thought.
---
True to yourself and feeling unable to break your promise, you did come to see them at The Hideout that Tuesday, and back again on the following Saturday as their show had been such a hit that the bar’s owner had ‘basically begged them to come back’ Doug had told you after one of the shows when, as usual, you would make your way up towards the stage and be hauled up on it by Eddie.
One Tuesday, as you left The Hideout after your usual banter with the group, you were lucky enough to be met with the strongest downpour you had ever seen.
“Lovely,” you muttered, preparing yourself mentally to get soaked.
That evening, your friends had been unable to join you but they had made you swear on Eddie’s life that you would be careful and not put yourself in harm’s way no matter what; bars could get fairly rowdy after all. Though you refused to put anyone’s life on the line of a promise, words were, after all, impossible tricksters, you still somehow convinced them that you would be alright and keep to yourself. And as the bar’s doors closed behind you, you relished in a well-spent evening.
A gust of wind pushing rain to the edge of the bar’s awning made you snap back to reality; if only you had taken your hoodie before going out… You took a breath, readying your skin to feel positively drenched in a matter of seconds. As you were about to take a step into the terrible and petrichor-smelling openness of the parking lot, a voice called your name.
Eddie approached you and you could see the rest of the band a few feet behind him as they dragged their equipment.
“Even I’ve got a flair for the dramatic, but running to your car in this weather and getting soaked? I can’t let you do that.”
You shook your head, looking at the trio behind him, “it’s fine, my car isn’t that far. Plus, I can’t let you guys have one less pair of hands to bring all your stuff back to your van either.”
Doug blew raspberries at that, “you really think not having fiddlestick over here is going to hold us back?”
Your hands flew to your mouth as you suppressed a laugh. Eddie turned towards his snickering bandmates with his hands held palms out.
“Is this how it’s gonna be?” He fished into his pocket for the keys and threw them at Gareth, “not a scratch, got it?”
The trio rolled their eyes and hurriedly made their way towards Eddie’s, well, Wayne’s van.
“You really don’t have to, Eddie, it’s ok, I can…”
You trailed off, watching as Eddie shrugged off his jackets, both the denim and leather slipping off of his shoulders. He had done so plenty of times on stage already, but there was something about him being so close to you, the smell of the alcohol-permeated air of the bar mixing in with Eddie’s weed-heavy fragrance that mesmerised you. Your eyes trailed down his arms and you could see the lines of toned muscles peaking out, not so much that it looked like he worked out specifically to be buff, but enough to show his activity on stage earned him a lean physique.
Fiddlestick who?
You blinked back up to his face, seeing a small smile there. One of his arms lifted around your head, draping his jackets over the both of you.
“Now, shall we?”
Both of you jogged to your car and Eddie kept you dry as you worked on getting your door open. When you felt the satisfying click of the lock, you turned back towards Eddie, momentarily distracted by his side profile as he looked off towards his van, watching his friends load up the equipment. But what was of interest to you were the droplets of water slithering down his curly hair at the back of his head. You felt something swell inside your heart at the way he was covering you, mostly, his back most likely getting drenched. You bit your lip, and as soon as the impulse hit you, you pulled him towards you. Your arms wrapped around his waist, touching the cold spots on his back that had been rain-kissed.
Eddie stood still, his arms wavering for a moment until he tightened his grip on his jackets so the both of you would not get soaked. His body relaxed against your own, his waist letting itself be pulled softly into your embrace.
You looked up at him, a rosy blush flushing his cheeks as he watched you.
“Thank you,” you said, slowly retreating your hands back to your sides.
You slipped into your car, your clothes almost perfectly dry as they touched the seat, except from a few splatters on the bottom of your legs. Eddie gave you a wave as he had now let his jackets fall on top of his head and held them in place with one hand. He hurried back to his van, and you made sure to watch until he was safely in the driver seat before pulling in reverse.
You could still feel the beating of his heart against your chest when you arrived at your place, the way his body had leaned into yours in your embrace and how colourful his cheeks had looked… and you thought that maybe, next time an occasion like this one would show up, just maybe, you would find the courage to verbalise how you feel.
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shoalweedhence · 26 days
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A Time and a Place - Chapter 2
Chapter 1 || Chapter 3
Warnings: Sad Ending!! Please note that even though the first two chapters of the fic are just pure good old fluff and sunshine and rainbows, this was written with a bad ending in mind so, proceed carefully.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN Reader
Content Tag: Fluff & Angst
Word Count: 16k (Chapter 1: 4k / Chapter 2: 4.5k / Chapter 3: 7.5k)
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Chapter 2
Your feet seemed to be walking on a little cloud for the next few weeks, and you were almost certain that nothing could rain on your parade. 
As time passed and you kept coming to the shows, you progressively grew closer to the members of the Hellfire Club. 
As cliché as it sounded from an outcast like you, you wanted nothing more than to say ‘screw the rules, I’ll hang out with whomever I please, whenever I please’; though, as the world would have it, outcasts never quite got their way.
“I swear this is fucking bullshit!” You groaned, exasperated.
Your friends and you had been caught in the crossfire of a group of jocks throwing their food at a couple of outcasts in the cafeteria and had therefore been signed up for cleaning duty of the entire kitchens after school… And today, as it were, was a Tuesday, because of course it was.
Knowing how important your ‘Eddie outings’ -as your friends called them- were, both of them tried to get you out of the sanction, but to no avail. 
Tuesdays were usually a bit quieter bar-wise, so your friends felt a bit more at ease knowing you went on your own, especially since they thought Eddie would probably come down from the stage and beat up anyone who would try anything after you’d told them about the whole ‘arm muscles debacle’. 
Still, this was not just about you, both of your friends had things planned as well. 
“I’m sorry you guys got caught up in this mess too,” you said, looking at each of them in turn as you grew nearer to the back of the school, no one around left as the last bell had rung some time earlier.
“‘Nothing to apologise for, it’s not your fault,” one of them shrugged, a small sad smile painted on their lips.
“I’m just sad we won’t get anymore Eddie gossip for a few days,” the other nudged you in the side with their elbow.
Just as you were about to defend yourself from their gentle shoves, a voice called out to you.
“Ah, speak of the devil,” they commented.
“Hey,” Eddie said as he stood in front of you.
“H-hi,” you stuttered, blaming it on the shock of seeing him approach you at school, but you could hardly lie to yourself and his presence *did* still turn your nerves into a jittery mess whenever he was around.
“We’ll go on ahead,” your friends said, giving you stares full of insinuations.
You stared back as they left you, with Eddie, alone. 
“Are you starting a reefer business too? I didn’t know I’d get competitors in the market, especially not in our great Hawkins High,” Eddie said, gesturing grandly at the building beside us.
You laughed, shaking your head, “nah, your business is safe,” you smiled at him, but then, remembering the reason why you were here -which had almost slipped out of your head in Eddie’s presence- made your features fall a little, “we got caught up in a fight at the cafeteria-” you did not fail to notice Eddie’s eyes growing bigger at the mention of a fight, looking you over for any signs of physical pain, “it was just people throwing food at each other,” you explained, “but now we’re on cleaning duty for the rest of the evening, which means…” you trailed off, anger building up inside of you again at the injustice and you dug your nails in your palms.
“You won’t be at the show…” Eddie finished your sentence, his voice quiet, not judging your predicament, but mirroring the disappointment you felt.
You felt tears assail your eyelids as the rage you held metamorphosed into sadness, the cocoon of your heart opening up as the flutters of your sorrow escaped through your throat in a quiet sob.
A quiet sob which you saw Eddie notice, his concerned face looking at you as you turned away from him, trying to dry your tears.
“It’s ok to cry,” Eddie said, his voice gentle, “I’d rather you vent out your frustration than keep it in.”
You looked up at him, his features slowly blurring as you could not stop the incoming flow of tears.
“Come here,” Eddie said, opening his arms and you buried your face in his shirt. 
“I’m sorry,” you said in-between choked sobs and irregular breaths.
Eddie shushed you, laying his head on top of yours. One of his hands held your waist tightly while the other traced abstract patterns on your back.
“I’m sad you won’t be at the show tonight,” Eddie said once your cries had softened, “but you’ve shown up to every single one of our gigs since I invited you and, clearly-” he hesitantly brushed one of your tear-stained cheeks with his thumb, “you really care about what we do… and that means more to me than I can explain.”
You gently pulled yourself away from him, just enough so that you could dry your eyes and look up at him.
“I-I-” Eddie closed his mouth, the words at his lips stumbling back in his throat.
He leaned forwards, placing his lips on the top of your head, his arms just hovering around your waist as if he was expecting you to push him away. You felt your body freeze at the unexpected gesture and felt the heat rise to your cheeks.
“I, huh, should probably…” Eddie said, his own cheeks flushing as he threw a hand backwards, gesturing at the parking lot.
You nodded, and as his hands left your waist for good, you caught one of them and gave it a squeeze. Eddie peered down at your joined hands, then at you, a smile appearing on his features, just as you felt one do on yours. 
He squeezed your hand back, and then let it go, taking a few steps back without looking behind him, giving you a small wave before jogging away.
“Eddie!” He stopped on the spot, turning around, his face set in a curious look as he stared back, “have a blast for me, yeah?” 
He shot you two thumbs up and hurried back to the parking lot.
‘I guess there will be gossip after all’, you thought, watching Eddie until he disappeared out of your sight.
---
After Tuesday’s ‘event’, you noticed Eddie’s demeanour change; not when he was with the rest of the Hellfire Club though, just when it came to you. 
He would be talking in the corridors, his voice booming as he made a theatrical demonstration of whatever DnD character his players had faced the previous session, only for his eyes to meet yours, and, suddenly, he would go quiet, lowering himself so he would blend in with the rest of the group. 
Gareth, Jeff and Doug would always reciprocate your waves and ‘hi’s’, though, and that made you a tiny bit less hopeless about the situation.
But Saturday was fast approaching, and none of Eddie’s recent behaviours had given you any clue as to what you were supposed to do. 
Did he regret what he had done on Tuesday? Had he found you too sensitive, annoying, snotty? Would he even want to see your face at the concert? 
Those questions, ramming your skull and shaking your brain left and right as if it was a snow globe, consumed every second of your day. Finally, on Friday you decided to let your friends in on your predicament. 
Summoning a council, one composed of both of your friends and you, the art classroom which, thankfully was open that day, quickly got a makeover as a courtroom simply by the tone of your voice.
“I really don’t know what to do; he’s been avoiding me since what happened and I can’t help but think maybe it was just a spur of the moment thing for him to do, like he just wanted me to be ok, and- I don’t know, maybe I didn’t answer correctly, or I got the wrong signals or something but then he realised I’m just some stupid loser-”
“Wow, wow, wow, ok,” one of your friends cut you off, placing their hands on your shoulders and guiding you to a chair, “first I want you to take a big breath, ok?”
You sat down and nodded, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you took in sharp breaths and let out shaky ones.
“Now, the guilty party has shown signs of being avoidant, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And all of his friends still act the same way around you as before, right?”
“Yes.”
“And, you still like Eddie?”
“Of course I do!” You cried before realising what you had admitted so loudly and threw your hands over your face.
“And he likes you too, so there’s that, now off you pop.”
“How do you know he does?” You asked.
Both of your friends shared a look and then shook their heads, looking unimpressed, and you thought you heard one of them whisper ‘peas in a pod, right?’
“He’s just scared of commitment,” one of them said.
“Another one,” the other replied.
“But he must have his reasons,” they said, “you should ask him.”
You sighed, the weight of the anxiety building up from this future conversation crushing your lungs, “but what if I do it wrong and he rejects me and I mess everything up-”
Your friends called you by your full name, stopping you dead in your tracks, “listen, you guys have been talking for weeks, you’ve been showing up to every show he’s done, he keeps performing a song that you told him you love, you’ve hugged him, twice, he’s kissed you, now it’s your turn!”
“But what if-”
“No buts! We’ve been rooting for the both of you for weeks, we’re not letting you give up now,” both of your friends put their arms around each other, forming a wall of authority in front of you.
Just as you were about to respond, someone opened the door.
“Oh,” it was Jeff, “hey, didn’t expect to see you guys here.” 
“The art classroom is just real useful for clearing your mind,” one of your friends said, glaring at you and you looked away.
“Tell me about it, it used to be the number one spot to hide eight-balls,” Jeff said, oblivious to the showdown that had happened just moments before he entered the room, too focused on rummaging through the leftover art supplies near the window seal, “you guys are coming to the show tomorrow? We’d love to see our favourite fans again,” he turned to the three of you, smiling; and you were certain his eyes stayed on you for a second longer than they did your friends.
“Sure.”
“Absolutely.”
Both of your friends said in unison and Jeff’s eyebrow lifted slightly as he kept his eyes on you. Straightening up your spine and smiling, you felt the commending combined stares of your friends punch your side as if you were a whack-a-mole board.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you finally said.
Jeff’s smile grew bigger and he placed whatever he had come to get in his pocket.
“Hell yeah! See you guys tomorrow night!”
And with that, he was gone like the wind. 
And you, were faced with two cheshire-cat like grins.
“I hate you both.”
“Of course you don’t.”
---
When the next day rolled around, you were a ‘perfectly trembling, can’t-hold-any-object-for-more-than-two-seconds-without-dropping-it, mumbling, worried mess’ -courtesy of your friends. 
Both of them did their best to distract you until the evening, calling you over to their home, walking around town with you and window-shopping until the clock left you no other choice but to drive to the bar. 
Somehow, the familiar scenery outside of your window as your friend drove helped calm your nerves. Some shops closed while neon signs for more or less dodgy businesses lit up. 
Seeing children and their parents head home with content smiles on their tired faces as older teenagers and adults came out to enjoy the nightlife felt peaceful. 
It took you a second to get out of your daydream when the engine stopped and you heard your friends open their doors. Following their lead, you stayed close to them, lagging behind just a bit. 
‘Come on, you can do this’, you repeated inside your head.
The bar was already a bit more crowded than on their first gig, and you took a moment to appreciate how much they had grown in such a short amount of time. 
The Saturday concerts always brought about a handful of drunks who, usually, were promptly kicked out when they got too rowdy. But as your eyes swept across the room, you thought about how the vast majority of people here actually wanted to appreciate their music.
You and your friends made your way to the counter; them ordering beverages while you looked at the stage, seeing all four Corroded Coffin members preparing for their performance. 
Eddie was kneeling next to Doug’s amp, adjusting the settings as the bassist tuned his instrument. 
Doug raised his head and catched your gaze immediately, he gave you a little wave and pushed Eddie with his foot, his lips moving but the words said getting lost in the distance that separated you.
Eddie turned around, his eyes scanning around the room but quickly focusing on you. Your breath caught in your throat as you finally saw the beautiful round brown eyes you had craved to stare into focus on you and not shift away as soon as they met yours.
Eddie raised his hand, waving. 
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, your heartbeat quickening in response to his gesture and you waved back. 
His attention was pulled back to the amp when Doug kicked him again with his foot and Eddie pushed his leg away. You laughed at their antics and saw your friends watching you from the corners of their eyes.
“Shut up,” you said before one of them could even open their mouths.
---
The evening was going as smoothly as anyone could have hoped. All the patrons had been tame, the setlist which the Corroded Coffin always revised a little, switching songs here and there to keep regulars on their feet, was an indubitable success if the whistling, thunderous applause and cheers after each song were anything to go by.
Your group of friends, who had spent the past three songs dancing and shouting the lyrics back at Eddie, was finally settling down in a booth in a corner of the room as the band made their announcement for the last song of the night. An announcement which was met with a chorus of loud disappointed voices, though not a single soul left the bar.
“Here it comes,” one of your friends called, tapping your shoulders excitedly and you rolled your eyes at them.
When you focused your attention back on the stage, and more specifically on Eddie, he was already looking at you. 
His fingers moved effortlessly along the neck of his guitar, his right hand plucking at the strings with the help of his guitar pick, his nimble fingers holding it firmly in place as the notes rang out.
Except for the few longer notes Eddie sang which he had to close his eyes and focus fully on to nail, his irises were focused on you throughout the entirety of the song. 
You were used to him glancing your way before starting the song, and occasionally his gaze would flit back to yours during the last bit of their performance, but this was an entirely novel experience for you.
Surprisingly, the nerves you had been feeling up until this point had completely vanished. Maybe it was the familiar ambiance of the bar, or being with your friends and having fun, that you could not quite point out, but when Eddie played his solo, eyes shortly diverting from you to focus on his playing, you felt as if you had just been mesmerised by a merman -the comparison had made your friends lose it when you had shared it with them later on.
When his head shot back up at the end of the guitar solo, he looked at you again, and a grin appeared on his features. You could not decipher if it was pure pride at how well he had executed the intricate melody, or if it had something to do with knowing that he held your full attention. 
Whatever the case may be, the Corroded Coffin ended the song in perfect harmony -as they always did- and you jumped out of your seat, clapping vigorously as other patrons joined your cheers.
“Well… Holy fuck,” one of your friends said, as the usual hustle-bustle of people leaving the premises echoed around you.
“Ditto,” the other one added.
You watched as a few regulars made their way to the stage and exchanged a few words with the band, their laughter loud and good-hearted. 
“Your turn,” your friend said, pushing you gently out of the booth and towards the stage.
“Wait!” You turned towards them, your back to the stage as you suddenly felt the anxiety tide rise, submerging your heart.
“What are you scared of?” They said, a hint of annoyance glinting in contrast to their mostly concerned features.
“What if I make myself look stupid? He was so cool and I just, there’s only so many ways I can say that, you know?”
“Thankfully that’s not the only thing you want to tell him, so you’ll have plenty of vocabulary to use, now go.”
“But-”
“He’s not going to eat you, and if he tries we’ll kick his ass before he gets the chance.”
“That’s not-”
“Or do you want to get eaten?”
“W-what?”
You took a step back, unable to process the incessant spur of complete goofery from your friends. 
Dealing with your own overactive, stressed out brain was enough to be a full-time job on its own, you did not need their madness on top.
Your back hit something and you quickly turned around, praying it was not a patron who might be three sheets to the wind.
“Shit, sorry-” you stopped as you were met with two beautiful round brown eyes staring back at you.
“No harm done,” Eddie said coolly, his voice a bit low and raspy from singing. A tone you were used to by now, but still made you weak in the knees, “Are you alright?” 
You blinked at him, realising you were awkwardly balanced on your feet, the only reason you had not fallen flat on your ass being Eddie’s hands on your arms. 
“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I’m ok,” you said, quickly finding your footing again, “thanks.”
There was a beat of silence as you looked up at him, a kaleidoscope of dark reds mixing in with the warm lights of the bar reflecting in his eyes.
“We’ll wait for you outside, okay?” 
You turned to your friends who were both smiling, nodding at Eddie before making their way out.
You bit your lip, turning back to Eddie, “sorry again, for bumping into you.”
“One apology was more than enough,” he chuckled, the slight grit in his voice resonating into your eardrums and you had to catch yourself before you fell into his arms again.
“You guys were amazing, as always; the new setlist worked really well,” you said, chasing any thoughts of desire as far away from your mind as you could.
Eddie thanked you, nodding, albeit a bit distractedly it seemed. 
“Listen, can we… can we talk?” He asked.
You breathed in deeply at his words, feeling a gargantuan amount of dread looming over your shoulders.
At the same time as you felt the overwhelming power of apprehension gnaw at your insides, your fingers tingled. Looking down, you saw one of Eddie’s hands reaching for your own, his touch light as he silently asked for your response.
“Sure,” you replied, hand wrapping around his own. 
His face brightened and he guided you towards a small backstage area you had never noticed before. 
It was fairly dark, the dusty boxes and floor seldom silhouetted by a dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
Eddie let go of your hand as he started pacing left and right a few times around the tiny space, which only took two strides of his long legs. Then he stopped and turned to you.
“Do you, like me?”
Your instinctual bodily reaction would have been to laugh if Eddie’s trouble-ridden features had not peered so deeply into your soul.
You leaned against the nearest pile of boxes, your hands behind your back as your jitteriness was inevitable. 
Because your answer was obviously yes, but there was always the possibility that he would reject you, and then… And then you were not sure how you would take it. 
You could always tell him no, see his reaction and backtrack, but that was much too convoluted, and you wanted to be honest with Eddie, you always had been after all, why change now? 
You could answer vaguely and get him to admit his feelings -or the lack thereof- first, but that was cowardly, you thought.
If he had gone through all the trouble of coming to speak to you after the show, facing you and your friends, alone, then the least you could do was answer his damn question.
You exhaled a shaky breath, “I do, I like you, Eddie.”
He paused, and so did you. The air was absolutely still as the two of you took the other in, your breaths the only sound in the room as a few muffled voices and thumping came from the stage outside.
And then, your voice found the courage to climb up your throat, asking for the one answer you really needed.
“Do you like me?”
Your eyes were so focused on any clue Eddie’s face could give you that you barely noticed him getting closer until he was right in front of you. 
You felt the familiar tingle in your fingers as he gently wrapped his palm around your own.
“I like you,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, “I really like you, I can’t stop thinking about you, I-” he stopped himself, bringing his free hand up to his lips and clamping his mouth shut, then it travelled to the bridge of his nose and he pinched it, “I like you so much the only reason I go to school these days is to see you.”
His confession rendered you utterly speechless. 
Eddie liked you, a lot by the sound of it. The adrenaline that had been pumping into your veins as the time for this conversation grew nearer was suddenly seeping out of you as vapour would immediately come out of a warm piece of coal flushed underwater. Your consciousness grew just a bit fainter and your free hand reached back to the boxes for support.
Still, one thing remained unanswered as Eddie stood over you, his hand warm in your own.
“Why were you avoiding me?”
Eddie bit his bottom lip, his eyes shifting towards the ground. He drew a long breath in before answering, “I don’t want other people to know.”
Oh. 
For many, this simple statement would make them run the opposite way, but not for you. 
Yes, in most cases this sentence was ‘red flag numero uno’, but you knew better than to think Eddie and your relationship was anything but part of the average. 
From the beginning, Eddie had been well aware of the fact that your label as outcasts made you easy targets, at school, but also anywhere bullies would cross your paths.
And Tuesday’s events had been the perfect reminder of that.
Eddie had not been avoiding you because he was scared you would reject him, push him away, find him undesirable… he was afraid of the opposite. 
Being with you would mean having to withstand a perpetual onslaught of insults and food thrown your way. Eddie knew getting in a relationship with you would mean making you an easy target for all the jocks and popular soon-to-be-adult bullies. 
And his spy-level shimmying around school was just a testament of how badly he wanted for you to be safe.
“If we’re seen together at school, it will only add insult to the injury,” Eddie murmured, a strained hint of pain lacing his voice.
You squeezed his hand, his eyes focusing on you as you did your best to smile at him, “I understand.” 
Eddie bit his lip again and you were scared he was going to draw blood.
“Can I hug you?” You asked suddenly, wanting to take his mind off of the millions of possible scenarii running through his head.
Even in the dim light you could see the apple of his cheeks redden at your suggestion.
“You can, and I would really like you to,” he said quietly, opening his arms up for you and wrapping them around your shoulders as you buried yourself in his chest.
The strong and steady beating of Eddie’s heart as you rested your head against him helped in easing your own heavy heart. You knew things would get more difficult from now on, but you would not swap your relationship with him for anything else in the world, even if it meant a more peaceful life.
You pulled away slightly, Eddie’s head immediately focusing on you, “I can still wave when I see you at school though, right?”
He chuckled, a ringed hand coming to brush your cheek just as he had done a few days ago, “of course. I don’t think I could last a day in that hell-hole without it.”
You laughed, sharing that you felt much the same way. 
A few seconds later a knock came at the door, followed by Doug’s voice saying he was ‘sorry to interrupt but Jeff and Gareth were at it again’. 
Eddie sighed, his forehead coming to rest gently against your own, “why me?”
You giggled, loving the way Eddie’s response to your laughter was to press his lips against your temple. You hummed in delight at the touch.
When you opened your eyes again you noticed a hint of hesitance in Eddie’s gaze, “is that ok?” 
You felt your heart melt in your chest, the resulting goop feeling warm as it subtly spread through your body.
“I love it.”
Eddie was about to respond when another knock came at the door and Doug’s voice grew more urgent.
Groaning, Eddie gave your hand a squeeze before moving away. 
He was about to open the door when he turned around, “would you like to come to my place… sometime?” 
You blinked up at him, taking a moment to understand his words, and then you nodded.
“Okay, huh, hold on,” he patted his jacket’s pockets before noticing a stack of post-it notes on one of the boxes. He quickly jotted down his address with a pen he had produced from a fruitful pocket search and ended the paper to you. “Feel free to come by anytime, oh, well, except on Friday evenings.”
You nodded, remembering how Eddie had told you he spent them with Wayne, his uncle whom he lived with.
Eddie pressed another kiss on the top of your head before heading out. 
Slightly dazed, you took a breath before following him out of the door. 
You could feel your face staying flushed even as you said your goodbyes to the boys and made your way outside -your friends too keen on making you aware of it. Though their teasing hardly got to you.
Your heart was drumming against your ribcage and your fist tightening around the slip of paper safely tucked in the crook of your palm was distracting you thoroughly.
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shoalweedhence · 1 month
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Eddie Munson x Reader Fanfictions
💞Fluff💞 ∥ 🌑 Angst 🌑 ∥ 🧵Hurt/Comfort🧵
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One-Shots
· You Were Out of my League 🧵💞 (1.5k)
· One more, just one more 💞 (1.5k)
· A Time and a Place 💞🌑 (16k)
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shoalweedhence · 26 days
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A Time and a Place - Chapter 3
Chapter 1 || Chapter 2
Warnings: Sad Ending!! - Physical Violence - Abandonment Please note that even though the first two chapters of the fic are just pure good old fluff and sunshine and rainbows, this was written with a bad ending in mind so, proceed carefully.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN Reader
Content Tag: Fluff & Angst
Word Count: 16k (Chapter 1: 4k / Chapter 2: 4.5k / Chapter 3: 7.5k)
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Chapter 3
Dating Eddie was a bit like getting the role of a prey in a nature documentary. 
When it was just the two of you, his nurturing side would be on full display. There was not one time you had approached him with a question, a remark, a piece of information that he had not acted upon for your benefit as soon as he had been able to. 
He never failed to be supportive, comforting, sensible, interesting, driven, passionate... You could go on forever.
His manners, entirely irreproachable, made you feel like if there was anything your school life had brought you, you were glad it was Eddie. 
***
“Another one?” 
You had spent the night at Eddie’s one Tuesday after a show, and were all but ready to spend the entire day in his loving arms, but school was afoot. 
You had held onto him as tightly as you could as he had tried to get out of bed, placing all of your chances to win him over in the cuteness of your sleepy face -Eddie’s words. But ultimately, with him telling you that he ‘could not have you follow in his footsteps and re-do your last year of high school seventy times’, you had defeatedly gotten up and readied yourself as well.
Up until Eddie had returned back to his room, knocking on the door first to not surprise you, and he had seen you, wearing one of his custom-made band shirts.
“This is the third one this month,” Eddie had argued, though a smile stretched his lips.
“But they’re so comfy,” had been your comeback. A comeback Eddie had not been in the slightest required to hear to give you any and all articles of clothing he owned.
Eddie had walked towards you, his arms circling your waist as he had peered down at you with a smirk.
“If you keep stealing my clothes, I might just have to get the police involved.”
“Since when are you such a puritan?”
“Since someone started taking so many of my clothes I might just have to turn up naked at school and- don’t you dare give me that look,” he had laughed as you had raised your hands in the air.
“Can I keep this one though? Please? I’ll bring back the others Saturday, I promise.”
Eddie had chuckled, shaking his head, “fine, but I’ll have to keep this on your public record.”
“But, I thought ‘Love knoweth no laws’?”
There was a pause as Eddie had silently gasped.
“Did you just quote Judas Priest at me?” 
You had bitten your lip, unable to hold back the grin spreading on your face.
Eddie had pulled you towards him, rotating both of your bodies so that he could tackle you on his bed and start a tickle war.
As you both stood breathless, Eddie’s eyes gazing down at you fondly, his hand had moved to the side of your head. 
Your face had leaned into his touch as he had spoken: “what did I ever do to deserve you…”
***
And then, there were also the moments you looked forward to the least, like having to go to school. And though this was a sentiment shared by the vast majority of your peers, not all of them had to hide their relationship as if it was a governmental secret, or, at least, that’s the amount of effort Eddie put into hiding it.
You didn’t speak at school, much less hug or hold hands. Everything was just as it always had been after you returned to school despite being in a relationship. 
You would wave when seeing the other on the opposite side of the corridor or when your eyes, almost instinctively, flitted to the other when you were in the same room, but that was it. No secretive fingers brushing when you passed by each other in the corridor -though your hands always ached to feel separated from their partners- no grandiose declarations of love as you headed for your different classes -even if you wanted nothing more than to scream your love for him- and, by god, no mention of the other wherever eavesdropping could potentially ruin your cover.
School pretty much felt like hell -which, again, most of your schoolmates would agree on, regardless of relationship status.
Still, you knew this was for his and your sake, so you powered through the five days of intense withdrawal, glad to at least have Tuesdays as a respite when you would, without fault, be at his gigs, and then you had your entire weekends free for you to come to him, or him to come to you.
***
“No see, I just know that’s not correct because Washington became president at 57,” you had said from your bed as Eddie had been seated on the floor. He had been going through your history class flashcards and ‘helping you’ revise, though you had done more of the ‘explaining all of your classes’ to Eddie which, in its own right, was an even better way of studying than robotically repeating back facts and events from flashcards.
“That old, huh?” Eddie had said, flipping the card around to look at the notes you had written there.
“Well, Frodo was 50 when he began his quest,” you had replied, leaning over him and gently prying the cards out of his hands and placing them on the floor beside him, ready to take a break.
“Did you just compare George Washington to a Hobbit?” Eddie asked before bursting out in laughter.
The hilarity resulting from your comment was so great that Eddie had to lay down on the floor, his body convulsing in erratic spasms as you had pouted.
“Can’t prove to me he wasn’t 3ft tall and didn’t have hairy feet,” you had shrugged, coming down from your bed and sitting next to Eddie as he had tried to regain a hint of control over his breathing.
Before long, Eddie had pushed himself up, his back resting against your bed and your shoulders brushing each other. 
“Imagine if you’d have to wait 57 years for the most history book worthy thing to happen to you,” Eddie had said pensively, his hands playing with his rings as he looked around your room.
You did not quite know if it was from how tired you were suddenly feeling, the soporific factor of history classes finally catching up to you even without the nasally voice of your teacher, or if being in Eddie’s presence comforted you so much that you felt like nothing in the world could happen to you, but your eyes glazed over a little as you looked at the side of his face.
“Thankfully, I don’t have to imagine that,” you had said quietly, your infatuation shaking you awake slightly.
“Hmm?” Eddie had turned his head to look at you.
“I think I got all the gratification in the world from meeting you.”
Eddie’s eyes had widened at your words. You had taken one of his hands in your own, feeling the cold metal of his rings against your skin as you had brushed your fingertips over them.
“Eddie,” you had whispered his name, feeling the buildup of emotion in the depth of your soul and from the tips of your toes to the end of your hair. An emotion which you had known for a long time now had captured your heart with the label ‘Eddie’ attached to it. An emotion which, though you had shown it to him many times before, you had not yet expressed verbally. 
There had been a pause as you had taken a breath, steadying your breath as your heart was a lost cause, and looked deeply into Eddie’s eyes.
“I love you.”
Eddie’s face had quickly shifted from confusion to euphoria.
His free hand had come up to your face, gently cupping your cheeks, “I love you.”
“I love you more,” you’d replied, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand.
Eddie’s face reddened rapidly as his eyes narrowed, “Oh is this how you’re gonna play it?” You had squealed as he had lifted you up and placed you on your bed, “I love you even more!”
“I love you the best!” you had giggled as he placed small kisses on your neck.
“I love you the bestest,” Eddie had breathed in your ear, silencing you for good before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.
***
Time seemed to escape your grasp as you fully embraced the status of your new life… 
Until one fateful Tuesday.
The bar was as full as ever that night, and you wished you could fully attribute it to the Corroded Coffin’s continuously flawless performances -which did help- but the cataclysmic defeat the Hawkins High basketball team had suffered today led a few more unfamiliar faces to The Hideout’s open doors. 
Most of them were older teens, proudly showing off their IDs as they got their booze and smuggled some off to their younger friends, laying in wait and foaming at the mouth in the darkened street corner next to the bar. The Hideout was not the most well-renowned bar for upholding the law anyway, which is partially how Eddie’s band got their gigs in the first place.
You came in through the open doors, both of your friends at your side. You had spent the afternoon together as classes had been suspended for the rest of the day because of the match. You really did not feel enough solidarity for the sports team -who was mostly composed of the jocks who picked on ‘your kind’ at school anyway- to show up at the match. 
Eddie had proposed that you spend the afternoon together but you had gently shut him down, reminding him of that one time you had spent a Saturday afternoon at his place and nearly missed his show because of you two getting ‘distracted’.
Therefore, here you were, following your friends to the bar, light on your feet as your eyes were glued to the stage. The boys were just starting to settle down their instruments and your eyes fixed themselves on Eddie. You had not seen him the whole day and, at the risk of sounding a bit too clingy, you had missed him desperately. 
There was just something about living in the same town as your partner, sharing your ‘workplace’ and being in the technical possibility of seeing each other within a few minutes drive that rendered your heart so capriciously obsessive when it would not get what it wanted for even 24 hours.
You signalled to your friends that you’d be back in just a second and they waved you off, acting dismissive but still watching over you as you made your way to the stage.
You climbed the small stairs on the side of the stage, familiar with the layout of the place, now.
“Need any help?” You asked Doug who was the first to greet you.
“I’m fine, thanks, but Gareth might need a hand adjusting his cymbals… again.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him, the jab at his friend referring to an inside joke you were not privy to. You smiled when Gareth threw one of his drumsticks at Doug’s back, the instrument falling to the floor with a soft ‘plonk’.
Playing ‘don’t step on the cables’, you manoeuvred around Doug and Jeff as they fiddled with their amps, picking up the thrown drum stick as you went. 
Finally reaching Gareth, you held up two of his cymbals and he turned a screw, tightening the clasps that held them at his preferred height.
“Perfect, thanks,” Gareth gave you a two finger salute as you handed him the drum stick.
You looked back at Doug and Jeff who were throwing their picks into the air and catching them, sometimes stealing the other’s and shoving each other slightly. 
Shaking your head with a laugh, you looked at the last person you had not talked to so far, and yet, the one you yearned to be with the most -no shade to the rest of the Corroded Coffin.
“Hi,” you said, crouching next to Eddie as he plugged in his amp.
His eyes followed your movement and he smiled, “hey,” his eyes returned to the amp as he rotated a few buttons, “can you tell me if the second diode on the side is lit up?” 
You leaned away from him, searching with intent until your eyes fixated on the light, “hmm, yep! It’s red though-”
You gasped as you felt Eddie place a kiss on your temple, holding your head in place with a gentle hand under your chin.
“It’s red because my you-metre is very low today,” he said, letting go of your chin and smiling down at you, “I feel better now, can you check it again?”
You huffed and kept a close eye on him as you looked at the amp again, seeing the light turning a vibrant green.
You shook your head laughing, “you absolute dork.”
“Hm, I’m your dork though,” he said, catching one of your hands and squeezing it.
As you were about to respond, a sudden loud clattering at the entrance of the bar made you both jump. Your eyes took a second to focus on the distant figures, but when they did you could not peel your eyes away from them. 
The Hawkins Tigers.
“What the fuck are they doing here?” You heard Eddie whisper beside you, standing up as he took a few steps towards the front of the stage.
There were only four of them, but that still did not calm your nerves one bit. 
They went over to the counter, ordering beverages -though one look at them could easily tell you that they were already significantly blitzed.
The way they staggered to the stools, earning glares from some of the patrons already present, made you wince. You watched as they settled on the seats right next to your friends and you felt the blood drain from your veins to the soles of your feet. 
The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was too loud to make out what was being said, but you saw your friends trying to shrug off one persistent basketball player. 
The barman started intervening, his voice louder, deeper and more commanding than anyone else’s.
But the impetuous Tiger here was not alone, he had brought a few others with him and, as deadly as they could be when they were solitary, you were horrified of what a whole ambush of Tigers could do -especially if intoxicated.
In a second, your feet scrambled under you and you rushed towards your friends, making a beeline in-between the bodies of the patrons to reach the counter. 
As you reached the stools, the barman had finished hissing something. The bar had gone completely quiet at that, only Eddie’s footsteps as he arrived behind you registered in your ears. You stood beside your friend as they made to leave their seat, but they were instantly pulled back by the basketballer. 
You felt shivers crawl up your skin, and Eddie’s shoulders next to you rolled back.
There was a beat of silence. And then…
SMACK
The sound of the slap reverberated against the walls, the bottles, the glasses, the overhead lights… A collective gasp had been taken and no other sound could be heard, even the constant buzzing of electricity seemed to flinch and retreat.
Suddenly, a fight broke out. Both of your friends trying to leave the grasp of the psycho Tiger as he dug his nails in their arm, the barman walking around his counter to throw the basketball team out, a few patrons joining in to help him as the Tigers did not cooperate.
You held your friend in your arms as they managed to escape, your head turning towards the attacker and seeing Eddie stepping in front of you.
“Ah, the freak,” the jock said, a humourless laugh leaving their throat, “and company,” he said, looking past him at the rest of the Corroded Coffin who had just appeared beside you and your friends.
“You should leave, now,” Eddie said.
You could see his back flexing in anticipation for a fight, and you wondered how much the insult got to him, still, and how much he had had to fend off for himself from an early age when no one would protect him from bullies.
The Tiger raised his hands up, slurring every single word coming out of his distorted mouth -though it might have been an attempt at an amiable smile.
“I should at least get my drink first, right?” He said, turning towards the counter.
Your eyes widened as he took a glass and rapidly swung it towards Eddie. Springing to your feet, the glass hit the side of your arm with a strong blow before rolling out of the basketball player’s hand and crashing on the floor. 
The barman and one other patron managed to grab him, holding his flailing arms in place so he would not hurt anyone else before throwing him out onto the curb. 
You hissed as you felt a pressure on your arm.
“Are you ok?” Eddie asked, his face concern-ridden.
You noticed he had barely applied any pressure, and yet your upper arm felt like it was on fire. 
“Y-yeah,” you whispered.
Eddie looked unconvinced as you turned towards your friends, “you guys ok?” 
They gave small smiles and nods but you could see terror lingering in their irises. 
“We should call it a night,” I added, I’ll drive you back- ouch-”
As you reached into your pocket to retrieve your keys, you felt your arm sear with pain.
“Gareth, take them home,” Eddie said with a low tone and his bandmate nodded. 
“Eddie, it’s fine, I can-”
You did not have the courage to finish your sentence after the pointed glare Eddie sent your way. You had seen him angry before, but the depth of his glare made him appear like he was at his breaking point.
You closed your mouth, swallowing your protest as he fished the keys to his van in his pocket and gave them to Gareth; Doug and Jeff followed closely behind as they formed a triangle around your friends.
As Eddie excused himself to the owner of the bar, your ears buzzed out the conversation. 
Something in Eddie’s reaction had fully thrown you off; you had not been scared of him -and never had been- but were unsettled as you could not quite place your emotions. 
The way his eyes had immediately shifted to a seething pain when you tried to brush off your own suffering, it felt as if, deep inside of him, a thread that was tightly held around a part of his heart had snapped, unleashing his feelings in full force.
“I’ve got one in my car,” you intervened when you heard the two men in front of you mention a first-aid kit.
Eddie nodded, saying his goodbyes to the barman as he escorted you back to your car. 
You gave him your keys and he opened the passenger door for you, moving away silently to grab the kit in the trunk of your car. He took off his rings, slipping them into the front pocket of his jean jacket before taking the pair of gloves in the kit and putting them on.
Everything was quiet as he rolled your sleeve up, and, no matter how gentle he was, you could not help the wince that left your lips. After that, Eddie was even softer, if that was possible, with his movements as he applied an antiseptic wipe to your arm before placing a cold compress to it, only breaking the silence to ask you to hold it in place as he wrapped a bandage around it.
You held back a few whimpers as the pressure on your arm sent a violent shot of electricity through it.
“I’m sorry,” you said as Eddie rolled your sleeve back down, making sure the fabric of your clothes did not brush against the injury.
Eddie’s hands hovered your arm and you watched as they trembled slightly.
“No, you’re not.”
Your eyes flitted back up to his, watching them stare at the ground as he took off the gloves, “you have nothing to be sorry for, so don’t be.”
You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing but nothing came out of it. 
There were millions of thoughts rushing through your head at the moment, and the pain in your arm distracted you from picking one from the crowd and formulating it.
Eddie moved away from you again, bringing the first-aid kit back to the trunk. And you pivoted your body fully inside of the car, the smell of the antiseptic hitting your nose as your senses absorbed the situation, as if taking a sensorial photograph of it to store in your long-term memory.
---
The drive back to your place was silent, the radio not even loud enough to make out one song from another. 
Eddie, you learned, was very much capable of driving softly and safely as he avoided every hole and bump in the road. The constant vibration of your car however, felt like a small drill piercing through your arm slowly.
When Eddie pulled the car up to your house, he quickly made his way over to your side and opened the door. You thanked him when he helped you up, and thanked him again when you reached your doorstep.
You bit your lip, thinking a bit more clearly about everything you wanted to say, everything you wanted to ask, dig for the reason for his change of behaviour… 
Instead, your uninjured arm reached for his as he took a step back from you, “won’t you stay?”
Eddie paused, his eyes still fixated on the ground slowly moving up to yours, and then to your hurt arm, and back to your eyes. 
His mouth opened, and it was his turn to mimic a fish out of water as he gaped a few times, no sound coming out.
“Please?”
The wind blew slightly as the night finally settled around you, grass whispering from the neighbouring lawns.
Eddie’s hand found your own and he squeezed it, giving you a small smile, “ok.”
That night, Eddie helped you get around your own house. Making food for you, preparing a bath and checking its temperature with indisputable rigour, helping you in and out of clothes, changing your bandage and applying as much ice to it as you told him was comfortable. 
That night, you thought that no matter what had happened, you wanted Eddie by your side, not only because of what he was doing for you, but because you wanted to understand why he was helping you so much. 
Eddie had always gone above and beyond for you, but the simplicity with which he turned himself into anything you needed him to, just like putty in your hands, made you even more curious about his way of thinking.
So you promised yourself that you would ask him the next day, when your arm would hurt less and you would both be free of obligations in the afternoon. You would steal him away from his friends at school and let him pour his heart out to you.
Except you didn’t steal him away, and his heart’s secrets stayed safely kept inside the deepest confines of its masterfully locked chamber. 
You had woken up the next morning to the sound of your alarm blaring and making you feel disorientated. Feeling the cold air against your back as you moved to turn off the cacophonous piece of technology, you realised you were alone, the only trace of Eddie ever being there was the note he left at your bedside.
‘Went to pick the van up for Wayne.
Leftovers in the fridge.
-Ed’
---
Eddie was not at school that day, and when your friend drove you to his trailer in the afternoon, he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had a deal, you’d tried to rationalise, or a meeting with the bar’s owner which he really could not miss after yesterday’s debacle. You were worried, of course, but you thought he would show up at school the next day, or you would receive a phone call from him in the evening explaining everything. But neither of those things happened.
And when you repeated everything on Thursday, your heart began to fill with anxiety. 
As you escaped your last class as soon as the bell rang out, you dashed through the corridors and just in time to meet with the Corroded Coffin members, minus their leader.
Asking about Eddie’s whereabouts did not ease your heart very much. Gareth said Eddie had come really early Wednesday morning to pick up the van but he hadn’t seen him since. Doug had run into him in town near The Hideout and he had been very evasive about his whereabouts.
On Friday, neither of your friends could drive you to Eddie’s, so you hiked all the way there, the determination in your heart fighting off the exhaustion of the day weighing you down.
Thankfully, the Hoosier weather had graced you with a sunbathed, gust-free but cool climate, and as you reached Eddie’s trailer, you were barely sweating.
You climbed up the few steps to the door of the trailer, taking a deep breath as you raised your hand up to knock… Only for the door to open before your knuckles touched it.
Since you and Eddie had started dating, you had never yet met his uncle, Wayne -though Eddie talked a great deal about him and seemed to have no greater authority figure in his life than the sharp-eyed and slightly hunched man.
“H-hello Mr. Munson,” you introduced yourself, seeing the older man’s eyes clear out of suspicion as he recognised your name, “I was wondering if Eddie is home?” 
“Sorry, buddy,” you felt your face falter at the tone of his voice, “Eddie’s not here.”
There were only so many places Eddie went to and could be found at -that you knew of- in Hawkins and you rapidly grew overwhelmed with anxiety again as your list of places to check became scarce. 
If Eddie was even dismissing his commitments to the only family member he held dear, you could hardly keep your terror at bay, now, any hope of calming your nerves vanishing into thin air.
As if sensing your distress, Wayne continued, “though I have an idea where he might be.”
Your head sprung up at that and your eyes, full of hope, must have changed something in Wayne’s mind as he opened the door a bit wider, “let me get you something to drink for your trouble, before I send you off.”
Your first instinct was to respectfully decline his offer, your mind set on finding Eddie before anything else. But you also knew that Wayne was probably the person who knew him best, and could most probably shed some light on your current situation.
You followed Wayne inside the familiar trailer, closing the door behind you as he produced a glass from one of the cupboards. 
The rigged outline of the glass reminded you of the first time you’d allowed yourself to make a hot beverage at his place and Eddie had come up from behind you, kissing the top of your head as he had said ‘you can use one of my mugs. You’re not just a guest, here, you know.’
You smiled at the memory as Wayne handed you the glass of water.
“There aren’t many reasons for Eddie to trust others,” Wayne said, looking out of the window as you sipped on your drink, “poor kid had one hell of a time growing up.”
You remembered Eddie telling you about his parents. His mom had passed away shortly after his birth and his dad, well, except teaching him ‘useful’ life skills like hot-wiring and scamming, had not been much patriarchal use at all.
You were at least glad Eddie had his uncle now, with whom he shared a strong bond, maybe closer to long-time friends than a proper parental figure, but still, a good presence in his life was something you would always cherish.
“And yet,” Wayne turned his head to look at you, a proud smile on his tired features, “he always goes the extra mile for others, doesn’t he? He’s one to always give first chances, and second chances, and thirds, and yadi yada.” Wayne looked back outside the window, “he’s a good kid, a really good kid, but he doesn’t see it himself.”
“How?” You asked, your fingers flexing around the cool, glistening glass as Wayne turned towards you, “how do I make him see himself the way I do?”
A small sad smile was plastered on his face as he replied, “I’m afraid you just gotta keep hammerin’ it in that skull of his until it sticks.”
Your eyes fell to the counter, your eyes focusing on the pattern there while your mind was miles away, processing what Wayne had told you.
“He’ll be at the Lover’s Lake,” he said, bringing your attention back to him.
You nodded your head, thanked him for the drink but he called for you before you opened the door.
“They say birds of a feather,” Wayne said calmly, holding your gaze, “you always have your place here.”
You stared at him for a second, your eyes catching a glimpse of a profound darkness looming behind his irises before it was gone in a blink. You thanked him again and, leaving behind the cozy atmosphere of Eddie’s trailer, you set off on a shorter walk to Lover’s Lake.
---
There was a gentle breeze picking up as you approached the lake, the scent of stagnating water flowing past you in a refreshing and yet almost suffocating manner.
You spotted Eddie easily, the silhouette of his Hellfire Club shirt standing out against the bright blue sky mirrored on the water’s clear surface.
Not really knowing why, you slowed your steps for a moment, watching Eddie throw a pebble up into the air and catch it before sending it flying on the lake’s surface and witnessing as it ricocheted, one, two, three, four times before plunging into the aquatic depth.
You watched him send another three pebbles onto the water; from the way his body curved in preparation for the throw, to actually setting the rock in motion and going into a full-body paralysed state as he examined the result of each one of his attempts. 
After a particularly successful throw, you decided to get closer to him, the sound of your footsteps against small sticks and dry leaves alerting him of your presence.
You could tell he was not really expecting anyone, but also did not completely flinch away at your presence.
“Hi,” you said, taking a step closer until you were just a breath away from him.
“Hey,” he said, then his eyes fell to your injured arm, “does it still hurt?”
You smiled at him, “a bit, but I’m tough,” you chuckled, but Eddie was only able to answer with a small smile. “Listen, Eddie, if you’re worried about what happened, I understand, but I knew what I wanted when I chose you-”
Eddie clicked his tongue, and you noticed a bit of the darkness from Wayne’s eyes appearing behind his, “and is that what you wanted?” You recoiled a little from his tone, taking a careful step back, “being in constant danger because of me, is that what you wanted? Because I sure as hell didn’t, and I still very much don’t.”
“Eddie, it’s not even that bad, it’s just a bruise,” you said, trying to ease the heated flame in his heart but it only seemed to feed it.
“Maybe it’s just a bruise this time, and the next it’ll be a few stitches, until one day…” he trailed off, bringing a hand to his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Eddie, I’m not going to give up on you on the premise that one day I’m going to die,” you took a step towards him, “if I only have until tomorrow then fine, but I want to spend it with you!”
Eddie’s hand fell from his face and he looked at the ground, his feet kicking leaves as he took to walking back and forth on the lake’s shore.
He stopped after a moment and squatted down, picking up another pebble.
You took a few steps towards him but were stopped by his voice, “what if I don’t want you to?” He said, examining the rock in his hand.
“What?”
“What if I don’t want you to spend time with me?”
You felt your heart curl on itself, all of your limbs going limp.
You shook your head, your voice trembling with emotion, “Eddie, I want to be with you, whatever it takes…” You felt your throat squeeze your vocal cords painfully, “why won’t you give yourself a chance?”
Eddie stood up, his eyes slowly moving towards you, “because I don’t have any left to give.”
There was a forlorn look in Eddie’s brown irises, a distant memory -or many- resurfacing and hopping onto his active train of thought. A reflection of a past he had suffered too much from and had not yet been pulled out of.
You knew it had been difficult for him, even if you could only guess at how much shit he had actually gone through. Eddie, well, he had never opened up much about the formative years of his life.
As much as you could recall from what little blurbs of information he had given you here and there, sentences whispered in the black of night as you laid in each other’s embrace, or the few times he had let hints of his past crawl back out of his traumatised-self after a joint, regurgitations of physical and verbal abuse distant in time but still very vivid in the realm of his memories. 
The label freak had been engraved in him almost from the moment he had stepped a foot past the school gates; the bottomless pit of rumours and incessant gossip surrounding his family life not giving him the upper hand to even hope to retreat in the secrecy of his home. 
‘It was like one day I did not exist, and the next I was the number one most wanted criminal of the state,’ he had told you one night after having no short amount of devil’s lettuce permeating his clouded spirits. 
And yet, despite his life story being the talk of the town for a few months, and following him for all his years, his schools had never tried to alleviate the burden on his shoulders. 
No counsellor was brought in, no special intervention from the director or one of their staff, no doctor, no teacher, nothing.  
It was just him… 
It had always been, just him.
You took another step forward, “you don’t have to do everything alone, Eddie.”
“I never do,” he replied, his eyes floating back off towards the large expanse of water.
“Other people’s opinions of you don’t control who you are, Eddie. You are more than what all of their small-minded moronic self-aggrandizing egocentric brains can even begin to understand.”
Eddie shook his head, sighing, the pebble between his fingers falling at his feet. He walked the few steps separating you, looking down at you through a veil of false narratives his brain created.
“Maybe their small-minded moronic self-aggrandizing egocentric remarks are right, though,” he said, raising a hand towards your cheek and brushing his thumb against it with a featherly-light touch, “maybe I am just a freak.”
The word instantly crushed your soul, the beginning of a headache thumping against your forehead as you felt your eyebrows knit together.
“That’s just not true, Eddie, you know that.”
“Do I?” He laughed humorlessly, his hand falling back down at his side.
“So what, we just let the jocks win? The popular kids who don’t know any better?”
Eddie’s eyes fell, his fingers moved his rings and then stopped.
“Maybe we do.”
You shook your head, biting your lip, “and what about us?” You leaned closer to him, trying to peer into his eyes, “are we done?”
Eddie’s hands flexed again but only to roll his rings around.
“I suppose we are.”
You felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of your lungs, the quiet chirping of birds above sounding like a hurricane coming to uproot the forest around you. 
Your hand reached for Eddie’s but stopped halfway. 
You did not want to let him go. You had invested so much of yourself in him, in his life -though it still felt like you had barely scratched the surface of how wonderful of a person he was. You wanted to know more, to see more of him, to expect the unexpected and be the witness to the entirety of the person that Eddie was. The happy times, the sad times, the rough times, the quiet times, the stressful times, the jealous times, the content times, the wrathful times… You wanted to see it all.
And yet, your hand stopped, the voice at the back of your head that you had been so successful at keeping at bay coming back with renewed potential.
Maybe you were just burdening him. 
His existence and your own meshing had just been bad news for the both of you from the get-go and you knew this. You had thought about it from the beginning, two outcasts together did not make for an empowered duo, it just created a permanent state of limbo for the both of you.
You inhaled a quiet breath, careful not to disrupt the silence that had surrounded you. And then you spoke:
“Then, I guess that’s it?”
Wind caressed your face.
You heard a bird take off in the luscious foliage up above.
A stick snapped.
“That’s it.”
You looked at him as he took a step back, and then another. The glimpse you got of him was blurry as you tried to capture his features one last time.
He squatted back down again, picking up the pebble that had fallen out of his hands earlier. His thumb brushed over it, just like it had brushed over your cheeks a moment ago and your soul burned with the desire to feel his calloused fingertips against your skin again. 
Tears fell down your cheeks, “I really, really love you, you know that?” You said as your hands tightened into fists at your sides, “and for that reason I’m accepting to walk away because, clearly, you’re hurting more than I am right now.” You turned around, pausing, then looking back over your shoulder at him, “don’t let them make you disappear, Eddie.”
---
That Saturday, the Corroded Coffin show was cancelled and, as you congregated with the members -minus the leader- you realised that none of you had met with Eddie since your outing at the lake.
You had all driven to Wayne’s trailer, then, asking around if anyone had seen him but were only met with shakes of the head and hushed apologies.
Missing posters were hung as we searched high and low for the unaccounted for Edward Munson.
The last few months of the school year blurred together, the fragile linearity of time shattering and bending in such violently opposite directions that it formed an impossible jigsaw. 
Your friends -bless them- tried their best to support you in any way they could, accompanying you on every lead you found about Eddie’s whereabouts, speaking out for you when the school staff condemned your sudden lack of interest in school with petty remarks about your ‘bizarre’ interests.
You often went to Wayne’s trailer, Mr. Munson and you pouring over dozens of false leads and spending hours upon hours on the phone, dealing with prank after prank. 
Until one day, you drove up to the trailer park, and he was gone too.
Days turned into weeks, which turned into months, which turned into years.
You had left Hawkins some time ago after your graduation, unable to deal with the memories of your relationship that had permeated every street corner, every shop, every view, every noise of the city.
When you finally came back to Hawkins a few years later, the familiar streets pouring out their neon street signs as the nightlife crawled out of the shadows, you felt your eyes grow even shinier at the blinking stars in the sky. 
Looking back at the sidewalk before you, just in time to prevent yourself from bumping into an elderly lady and giving her your sincerest apologies, you found yourself face to face with a dilapidated advertisement board. 
From the dim light of the streetlight up above, you saw scrawled notes about sales added on top of missing cat posters and regional festival announcements. 
But as you peered closer, one piece of paper caught your eye and you pulled, as gently as you could, on the faded sheet until it loosely came off. 
The tear you had created at the top created a lightning bolt shape, guiding your eyes towards the nostalgic band logo and a setlist you knew all too well and still listened to from time to time in your own cassette player back at your new place, your new home…
You felt your cheeks push your eyelids up in a smile, a chill reaching up your spine, and there, just as you looked down at the time and place, a tear rolled down your cheek.
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shoalweedhence · 1 month
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About Shoalweedhence
Owen here, local French cryptid trying to capture my whimsical thoughts and make sense of my impossibly tangled brain through fanfiction writing.
Anything you want to get out of your mind and into the world, feel free to use my messages for that purpose; the world can be a harsh place, do not hesitate to reach out.
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My work
· I will not write smut, but may occasionally interact with 18+ posts, proceed at your own risk.
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Current hyperfixation: Eddie Munson from Stranger Things Season 4
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My Works ∥ Prompts
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