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say-al0e · 2 years

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Hold On

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never part of the plan, especially when you figured you weren’t Eddie’s type. But a trip home to sub in for a Hellfire meeting brings you more than a victory.

Warnings: Some anxiety, some insecurity, idiots to lovers, friends to lovers, fear of unrequited love, mention of Eddie’s extracurricular activities (if you squint).

Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader

Word Count: 8.2k ((how the ever-loving fuck did we get here))

Stranger Things Taglist | Requests are open for Eddie & Steve!

The invitation to join Hellfire for a night was far from a surprise.

Despite the distance - you in Indianapolis, Eddie in Hawkins - he kept you up to date on the latest happenings of the club you once attended regularly. As far as you could tell, not much had changed beyond your absence and as much shit as he gave the freshmen - a gaggle of children, some of whom you recognized as the siblings of former classmates - he was fond of them. They exasperated him - “Henderson’s a pain in my ass. He’s so smug! Some humility wouldn’t hurt him. Little shit.” - but he was convinced that Hellfire would be in good hands with them.

A blessing, really, because someone needed to carry on the legacy when he graduated (finally).

In a handful of conversations, he’d made mention of a basketball player amongst their ranks - a freshman benchwarmer who had yet to set foot on the court but was thrilled to be part of the team just the same - so the revelation that said player would rather attend the championship instead of completing the oh-so-thrilling tale of the Cult of Vecna was to be expected. Even more expected was Eddie’s call, imploring you to skip your final class before spring break and return to Hawkins in his hour of need.

It was a request you’d heard before and, at least on the surface, was not out of the realm of possibility.

In the beginning, when you first made the transition from high school to college - when you left Hawkins and the little group of friends you loved so dearly for the very first time - trips home were frequent. At least once a month, you made the trek back to Hawkins, just to sit and spend a weekend with Eddie.

The trips home weren’t exactly productive - you attempted to help him study for classes he’d taken a handful of times, attempted to steer him toward better habits, but each study session dissolved into a smoke session nearly instantly. Still, they were necessary.

Those trips kept you sane in the first few months, made you feel as if your world hadn’t been entirely upended, and you reveled in the connection you were able to keep with the guy who’d been your best friend since freshman year. Eddie was a constant in your life, the one thing that remained steadfast when your whole world seemed to shift, and you appreciated his unwavering presence more than you let on.

However, somewhere along the line, between classes and your job at the record store, new friends and new hobbies - including a new Dungeons and Dragons group that paled in comparison to Hellfire, a fact you assured Eddie of often - there seemed to less and less time to make the trip back to Hawkins.

As the trips started to grow fewer and farther between, Eddie began to pick up some of the slack. He made the trip to Indianapolis once - crashed in your too small twin bed and got kicked out by an RA - but, more often than not, made up for the distance by calling nearly every night. The conversations varied - ranging from rants about school, updates on Hellfire and your newfound social life, gossip about who he’d sold to, and existential conversations that made little sense to anyone else - but lately, there always seemed to be a request for you to return home tacked at the end of each one.

And for the first time in months, you decided to grant it.

The drive itself was uneventful, as always - the same winding backroads and sleepy towns, the same mile markers and curiosities stuck in time - but there was a spark of anxiety that settled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to erupt into a raging brushfire.

For months, you’d told Eddie that you wanted to come home, it was just hard finding the time - a statement that was true enough. You truly wanted to come back, if only to see him, but that wasn’t exactly enough anymore. He knew that there were plenty of reasons you’d kept your distance from Hawkins; despite the attitude he so openly displayed, Eddie understood why the whispers and glares got under your skin.

What Eddie didn’t know was that the feelings distance - and subsequent trips home - dredged up brought about a realization that nearly sent you spiraling the last time you made the trip home.

As loathe as you were to admit it, somewhere along the line, you’d fallen in love with your best friend.

That realization - knowing that you’d become a walking cliche, falling in love with your best friend - hit you harder than you imagined it would. Though it made sense, it was difficult to come to terms with as Eddie had been the one constant in your life for years. He was your rock, the person who kept you going, and the fear that everything would change, regardless of whether he found out, weighed heavier on your chest the closer you drew to Hawkins.

A million questions plagued you as you navigated the backroads on autopilot; would the distance help temper your feelings or would you continue to fall, regardless of how far apart you remained? Would going out with someone else help or would it only end in comparing your date to Eddie? Would you be able to maintain your composure in his presence now, or would you fall apart?

Most importantly, would you be able to get over him and keep him in your life without growing to resent him? As desperately as you hoped for a happy ending, you knew that there wouldn’t be one.

For all of the similarities that you shared - all the bands you both loved, all the movies you agreed were the best, all the political and social beliefs you shared - and all of the nights you spent together, you were not Eddie Munson’s type.

For as long as you’d known him, Eddie had a thing for girls he swore he’d never have a snowball’s chance in hell with. He gravitated toward pretty girls in pastel colors with soft smiles and hearts of gold and, for the most part, you swore that it had never really bothered you. There was a moment in time when you’d suffered through crushing on Steve Harrington, a boy who’d never give you the time of day; how Eddie chose to break his own heart was up to him, you were simply there to watch.

Now, upon making the startling realization that you were in love with him, you realized that it had bothered you for years. The pang of annoyance that simmered in the pit of your stomach when he stared a little too long at Chrissy Cunningham and the way the smiles he shot at the girls who wandered around Starcourt soured your mood suddenly made far too much sense and you didn’t know if you could face him.

Unfortunately, turning around and returning to Indianapolis seemed to be out of the question as you turned onto the gravel road leading into the Hawkins High parking lot. You knew that you would have to face him sooner rather than later - he’d already threatened to drive to Indianapolis and bring you back, kicking and screaming; a threat you weren’t entirely convinced was empty - so you pulled into the parking spot right beside his van and took a moment to compose yourself.

With a few deep breaths - and one final listen to Lita Ford’s You Gotta Let Go - you cut the engine and crossed the parking lot to your fate.

As expected, the halls Hawkins High were fairly empty and largely unchanged. The vast majority of town lingered in the gym, crowded the sidewalk just outside, and you ruminated on how strange it felt to be back after swearing you’d never step foot inside again. The halls made you uneasy, always looking over your shoulder for someone out to make your life miserable, and you knew that you wouldn’t even consider this for anyone other than Eddie.

Anxiety - both from being back at Hawkins High and from seeing Eddie for the first time after your realization - sank to the pit of your stomach like a stone. It weighed you down, had you stepping across the tile almost hesitantly, and you struggled to force yourself into resignation.

This would be no different than any previous trip home; Eddie would never be able to tell how you felt if you kept your composure, there would be no change in your relationship, and you would survive spring break with only a little difficulty.

It was possible. You just had to keep telling yourself that you could pretend, just for a week.

The closer you drew to the theater room - the one place on school grounds you’d all been granted refuge - the louder the voices became and the easier it seemed to compartmentalize your feelings. The room was a cacophony of noise, a clusterfuck of shouting that you made no effort to decipher, and you were grateful for its distraction. And for a brief moment, it reminded you of the few good memories you held of high school.

This, the shouting and the laughter and the unabashed enjoyment of something so many others saw so negatively, was what encouraged you to keep going. Having the connection to Hellfire, to Eddie, made high school a little more bearable and if one night struggling to conceal your feelings was all it took to give a few freshmen the same place to belong you’d had, you decided it was worth it.

After taking a few deep breaths, desperate to calm your racing heart, you rounded the corner and approached the door. From the hallway, you could tell that the heavy door was cracked enough to allow newcomers to enter easily, and felt a real smile tug at the corner of your mouth as you approached.

Just inside the room, Eddie sat on his throne - expression as impassive as he could muster, with the ghost of a frown curling his lips - while two of the freshmen explained their difficulty in finding a substitute for their friend. There was a glimmer of annoyance simmering just beneath the surface - a flash of betrayal that someone he’d allowed in would choose basketball over Hellfire - but you could see the hint of nervous tension in his shoulders.

When you spoke to him, you promised that you would try to make it in time, not that you would. Realistically, you knew that you would’ve broken every traffic law necessary to make it back in time to save the day, but keeping your promise vague gave you a little room to breathe.

To keep from staring, from cataloguing the little changes he’d made in your absence, and allowing yourself to overthink the situation, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. When you opened them, you met Eddie’s eyes instantly.

The look of relief that flashed across Eddie’s face upon making eye contact lingered so briefly you almost wondered if you imagined it. Still, it managed to make your heart skip a beat as he straightened on his throne.

Though you were desperate to look away - you could feel your cheeks burn and palms begin to sweat - Eddie maintained eye contact as the freshmen continued to speak. His eyes glittered in the dim orange glow of the room and you could see the ghost of a smile he struggled to conceal. As discreetly as he could, he held up a hand to keep you from entering the room before promptly dropping it to the table with a heavy thud.

Eddie’s dramatics often overwhelmed you - he kept you out of them, shielded you from view any time he got too loud and riled up the wrong people - but this time, they set you at ease. It felt normal, something you’d grown to expect from him. It distracted you from your feelings, reminded you of what you were back in Hawkins for, and you smiled as you leaned against the doorframe to watch as all eyes snapped to him.

“Fear not, freshmen,” Eddie interrupted, voice carrying through the room and instantly quieting their nervous chatter. As they shared wide-eyed glances, you stifled a giggle at the lilt to Eddie’s voice - a tone that only appeared as he reveled in being the center of attention - and waited as he stood. “Though you made a valiant effort, I’m sure, I have found a replacement far better than any you could’ve scrounged up in the halls of Hawkins High. M’lady!”

With a flourish, Eddie gestured to the door and, on his cue, you threw it open with a satisfying thud. As the sound echoed through the room, every head snapped in your direction. You allowed them a moment to stare before raising a brow at the group. “Miss me?”

As much as you wanted to glance at Eddie, to really look at him after so long apart, you scanned the other faces occupying the room first. The freshmen looked awed - though you knew Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington, you weren’t exactly friends so there was little chance the kids had seen you before - while the other members of the club quickly cycled from confusion to recognition to excitement.

The Hellfire Club shirt you’d stashed at the back of your closet looked a little different than theirs - yours was faded from so many washes, stained at the bottom from eyeliner, and had a little rip beneath the left arm - but that mattered so little when the energy in the room was so palpable. Everyone seemed thrilled to have you, eager to welcome you into the fray, and you could see Eddie’s bright grin out of the corner of your eye as he waited for you to close the door behind you.

“Gentlemen,” he began, speaking to the freshmen, “meet Ama. She’s a level fifteen, chaotic good Aasimar. Cooler than any of you dweebs ever thought about being. And she’s here to help you try to survive Vecna.”

As they so often tended to, Eddie’s eyes remained on you throughout his introduction. His grin grew brighter the deeper into the room you stepped and you struggled to keep your breathing even as you spared the freshmen a glance. With a roll of your eyes, betrayed by your laughter, you offered them your real name. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” At your admission, the freshmen glanced at Eddie - hopeful, surprised that he’d spoken about them - only to scowl when you instructed, “Prove Eddie wrong.”

Compartmentalizing your feelings seemed almost too easy - falling into the role of your character, one you’d played throughout high school, helped - but the freshmen were helpful in distracting you. Almost immediately, they tugged you off to the side of the room with wide eyes and eager smiles to fill you in - something they quickly realized was unnecessary as Eddie had already taken care of that - before commencing strategizing.

There was little chance it would be anything less than thrilling - one of the things about Eddie that drew you in was his ability to tell stories and craft wonderful worlds - and any trepidation you had about sharing a space with him was quickly shoved to the back of your mind as the club members rallied around you.

For nearly two hours, you managed to forget about every pang of anxiety you’d felt when speaking with Eddie - including the near meltdown you’d had on the drive home - and enjoyed the game.

Throughout the session, you did your best to avoid glancing at Eddie. As he spoke, you took great care to scribble down notes and alter your course of action - anything that would help you remain focused on the task, rather than his voice - but the buffer of other people and a task disappeared as the campaign ended with a win.

Mike and Dustin dispersed first - the Wheeler boy had a curfew and a flight to catch, Henderson was catching a ride with Steve Harrington and was amped to share the news of his victory - and were quickly followed by the remaining members of Hellfire.

It was only then that the room began to feel stifling.

The room felt too small, too quiet, all of a sudden and the high of winning faded almost instantly as Eddie spared you a glance out of the corner of his eye. For as much shit as you gave him over the years, he was a phenomenal friend and could read you better than anyone. There was little question that he’d noticed the tension in your shoulders, the distance you kept, the way you avoided his eyes.

Knowing Eddie, it was only a matter of time before he asked what was bothering you.

Eddie was always the one to break the silence, to babble about nothing at all in an effort to avoid the quiet, but you knew that his first thought would be to question your wellbeing. That was the last thing you wanted - especially as he could see through your lies easily - so you spoke before he could. “So,” you began, voice carrying in the silence, “you were really banking on me showing, huh?”

As he dropped his dice back into the pouch, he glanced at you over his shoulder with a laugh. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he declared with a grin that had your heart hammering in your ribcage. “I knew you’d be here, even if it was just to see if I was lying about the freshmen being insufferable.”

The faith that he had in you - in the belief that you would show when he needed you, regardless of how little you’d been home recently - weighed heavily on your chest. There was something so light about his belief, something so pure, that it ignited a flame of guilt within you. A surge of disappoint - upset that you had to fall in love with him, that you couldn’t leave well enough alone and be content with just his unwavering friendship - turned your stomach and nearly pulled a sigh from deep within. However, when Eddie turned to face you fully, you swallowed your upset and covered it with a thoughtful frown.

“Henderson’s kind of a know-it-all.” The taunt was playful, a repetition of something he’d said to you months ago, but you knew that it would throw him off as you headed for the exit. “Maybe it’s just his tone.”

Eddie made a noise of agreement and nodded eagerly as he patted his pockets in search of his cigarettes. “It’s totally his tone,” he agreed easily. “Little shit.” A beat of silence passed as he continued his search before he made a triumphant noise upon finding them. “I’m proud of them for that campaign, though. I didn’t think they’d be able to rally but they pulled through.” As you approached the exit, he plucked a cigarette from the pack and spared you a sideways glance. “They couldn’t have done it without you, though. You kicked ass, princess.”

The term of endearment made your cheeks burn, as did his praise. Neither were new - Eddie was your biggest fan, just as you were his - but both hit you a little harder now. They made you feel weightless, on top of the world, and you struggled to keep your composure as the words rang in your ears. You laughed quietly, almost bashful - something you’d never been in his presence - and shook your head as you shoved the exit door open.

“I don’t know,” you began, grinning as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “They’re… tenacious.” Eddie made a face at your choice of words, pulled an exaggerated frown chosen to make you smile, and you rolled your eyes as he fumbled with his lighter. “They’re determined,” you supplied, giggling when he scoffed - when he mumbled, “You could’ve just said that,” - and rolled his eyes. “I think you were right, though. Hellfire’s in good hands with the kids.”

As you turned to face him, Eddie opened his mouth to reply - the words caught on the tip of his tongue - but before he could crow delightedly at your acknowledgement that he was right, he paused. He stood, hand still lifted to his mouth with a cigarette balanced between two fingers, and followed something in the distance.

Though Eddie got distracted often, you were curious what could interrupt his triumph and turned to follow his line of sight. There was a crowd of people leaving the gym, all wearing the garish colors of your high school and cheering - Hawkins won the championship, evidently - but, to your annoyance, it was Chrissy Cunningham who’d caught his eye.

It wasn’t her fault - she was nice, had actually spoken to you a handful of times when you’d both been stuck in the library at the same time - but in that moment, you felt a sharp pang of dislike curdle the bit of joy you’d felt at his praise.

A flare of resentment overshadowed your feelings for Eddie - bitterness that, once again, he was choosing someone else, someone so different, over you - and simmered low in your stomach. It was another reminder of what you knew to be true, another reminder that Eddie wasn’t interested, and served as a reality check that quickly smothered the blossoming flash of hope you’d felt upon seeing him grin at you.

All too suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to return home, turn on a record your parents hated, and hide in bed until it was safe enough to return to Indianapolis. So, you masked your huff of annoyance with a yawn and shoved your hand into your bag in search of your keys.

“I’m sticking around Hawkins for a few days.” The lie slipped past your lips easily, meant to reassure Eddie that you were alright without even meaning to, but it still reclaimed his attention. “I’ll see you before I head back.”

Eddie frowned, eyes wide and confused as he followed you across the parking lot to your car. “What?” A flash of hurt crossed his face quickly, darkened the glimmer of excitement that still lingered in his eyes, and you could hear the disappointment in his voice. “You’re not coming over?”

The thought of spending the night with him, the thought of spending the rest of your break with him - either forgetting your feelings entirely, pretending they didn’t exist and returning to the way things used to be, or living a fantasy in which he returned your feelings just as he did in your sweetest of dreams - was beyond tempting.

Regardless of your newly discovered feelings, you’d genuinely missed spending time with Eddie. He understood you in a way that no one else seemed to, made you laugh and made you feel seen. There was so much about your friendship with him that you missed but when the ache in your chest felt so unbearable, you knew that finding yourself alone with him was a bad idea.

“I’m tired, Eds. It was a long drive.” You felt guilty giving him such a flimsy excuse - you’d spent long nights together driving home, eager to catch up on one another’s lives and spend as much time together as possible - but it felt like the only option. You only hoped it sounded convincing enough as you offered him a weak smile and avoided his eyes. “I’m gonna head home and crash, I think.”

As he lit his cigarette, his frown deepened. “Crash at my place.” It was the most logical solution he could offer, one that you’d taken him up on without question a thousand times before, but sharing a bed with him no longer felt like something you could handle. It was begging for trouble but before you could refuse, Eddie continued. “I’ll drive, bring you back to get your car tomorrow. My uncle’s working nights so it’ll just be us. We can watch The Evil Dead or Nightmare. You always fall asleep during movies, anyway.” He paused to take a drag off his cigarette, used it as a moment to think of a way to entice you into spending time with him, before he brightened. “Oh, we can watch Sleepaway Camp! You left the tape at my place last time.”

You folded your arms over your chest, wary of the cool night air, and shook your head fondly. “First off, I don’t always fall asleep during movies. And second, you hate Sleepaway Camp, Eds. You called it the worst movie you’ve ever seen.” The reminder was accompanied by a quiet laugh, softer than what you knew he expected, but you hoped he would chalk it up to your exhaustion rather than see it as a symptom of something greater.

“Yeah.” He shrugged off his jacket, leather crinkling in the dark, before stepping closer to wrap it around your shoulders. “But you love it. So, I’ll suffer through. Until you fall asleep, anyway.” When you softened - both at the gesture and his admission - Eddie grinned. “C’mon,” he encouraged.

Though it was difficult to breathe, standing so close to Eddie and being wrapped in his jacket, you huffed your most affected sigh and raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

Eddie grinned, bright and sunny as he realized he’d won, and shook his head. “Fuck no.” He stepped back, opened the passenger door of his van, and bowed. “M’lady.”

Despite every nerve ending shouting that you were making a terrible decision, you climbed into the van and settled into the seat that, at one point, had been yours. As Eddie rounded the van to climb into the driver’s seat, you hugged his jacket tighter to your body and inhaled deeply. It smelled of leather and smoke - a heady mixture of cigarettes and weed - but it was a scent you’d once associated with home. Only now, it made the ache in your chest nearly unbearable.

It killed him, you were certain of it, but Eddie remained quiet as he drove through the deserted streets of Hawkins slower than he ever had before. The radio was barely audible and, though he opened his mouth a handful of times, he didn’t speak a word as you sat with your head pressed to the cool glass of the window, watching as the night passed you by.

From the corner of your eye, you could see him tapping at the steering wheel, mindlessly following the beat of the Metallica song you knew he loved. Every few seconds, he spared you a glance - deep brown eyes wide and cautious, but curious. There was little hope he would make it through the night without asking what was wrong, without asking what he could do to fix the problem, and you had to swallow a sigh as you closed your eyes.

The air in the van was thick, tense, but for the first time in years, neither of you really knew what to say to remedy the situation.

It would be easy enough to tell him that you bombed an important exam or that your boss was being a dick. You could tell him that your friends at school were being weird or that there was a guy you liked who didn’t like you back - not a lie, though it might make him press for details.

But Eddie was not someone you lied to.

No matter how badly you screwed up, no matter how awful you felt about a choice you’d made, you never lied to Eddie about it. He’d seen you at your worst, remained by your side through the worst, but this was different. This would change the entire dynamic of your relationship, you knew that, and you wondered if it would be worth it to lie. Just this once.

As Eddie pulled into the trailer park, you moved on autopilot. His uncle’s home was something of a second home to you, a place you spent nearly as much time as your own home at one point, and it looked exactly as you remembered it. The space was small, lived-in, but comfortable, and, to your surprise, you felt more at ease than you had in weeks as you crossed the threshold.

Despite Eddie’s overwhelming presence - the scent of him embedded in the jacket, the waft of his shampoo as he brushed past you - surrounding you, your heart began to calm to a steadier beat as you shrugged off his jacket.

“Sorry about the mess,” he mumbled, as if he’d suddenly become aware of the state of the trailer. “Maid took the week off.”

It was a weak joke, told to distract you - only uttered because of the tension that surrounded you both - and you scoffed as you kicked off your shoes. “I’ve seen it look worse in here, Eds,” you reminded him, voice soft in the silence as you padded over to the couch. “Don’t worry about it. As long as you’ve got a blanket for me, I’m fine.”

Eddie nodded, smile crooked as he took a moment to revel in the sight of you perched on the couch - back in the spot you’d missed for months - before he set off in search of everything you needed.

Months had passed since you’d last seen Eddie in person. There were polaroids of him - the pair of you together, candids of him you’d taken at band practice and on nights he lounged in your bedroom, a handful of photos of Hellfire as a whole - tacked to the cork board hanging above your desk but seeing him in the flesh was different.

The butterflies you felt when you caught sight of a photo of him paled in comparison to the butterflies swarming as you watched him shuffle about the living room in search of a blanket and the VHS. Though you’d always found him attractive, seeing him now - really looking at him for the first time since realizing your feelings - you were taken aback by just how beautiful he was.

His hair had gotten a little longer, a little messier - he tended to cut it himself, often on a whim, locked away in the bathroom with only a vague sense of what he was doing - but, despite his less than perfect haircare routine, you distinctly remembered how soft it felt between your fingers on the few occasions he’d fallen sleep with his head on your lap.

The line of his jaw was sharper than it had been, a little more defined, and the smooth expanse of his throat drew your eyes as he made a quiet noise of triumph upon finding the tape. His smile looked a little easier and his eyes gleamed a little brighter as he scurried around the living room - though you weren’t sure if that happened while you were gone or because you were back.

As he bent to pop the tape into the VCR, you caught sight of a new splotch of ink just above his hipbone. Before you could stop yourself, you asked, “When’d you get that tattoo?”

Eddie grinned, bright and teasing, as he crossed the living room and lifted the hem of his Hellfire shirt to give you a better look. It was not the best tattoo you’d ever seen - though, if you were honest, none of Eddie’s tattoos were of the best quality - but that didn’t really matter as your eyes traced the line of his hip, roved the dark trail leading beneath the band of his boxers, instead.

“A few months ago,” he answered, voice bright - unaffected, as if you hadn’t just been ogling him, imagining what he might sound like if you were to press your lips to that exact spot. “Rick’s got a friend, did it for practically nothing.”

Unable to help yourself, you snorted at his answer and shook your head to clear the image of him lying beneath you. “For a shitty stick and poke, it looks pretty good.” Eddie was used to your teasing, heard the same taunt each time he showed you new ink, and rolled his eyes as he fell onto the couch beside you. When he pouted - an exaggerated expression, accompanied by a glance at you from beneath his lashes - you shook your head. “‘M serious, Eds. I like it.”

He brightened, grin replacing the pout, and nodded. He paused for a moment, eyes searching your face, before he laughed. “I’m not the only one making changes. That’s new.” Your breath caught in your throat as he reached out to gingerly cup your chin and tilt your head to get a better look at the septum piercing you’d hidden for most of the night. “I like it.”

It was difficult to focus with Eddie so close, with his bright eyes trained on you, and you felt both immense relief and deep sorrow when he released you. You hoped that he couldn’t hear the tremor in your breath as you inhaled deeply. “I didn’t think you’d notice.” The admission was quiet, a near whisper, as you shifted to lift your legs beneath you and glance away from him, but he heard you clearly.

Eddie scoffed, as if he couldn’t believe you truly thought that. “Of course I did.” His refutation was a huff, not quite offended but verging on it, as he pressed play and spared you a glance. “I notice everything about you, princess,” he admitted as he reached out to grab your ankle and stretch your legs across his lap.

As difficult as it was to admit it, he was right. Eddie was always the first to notice any changes you made. He’d noticed something was wrong the moment you stepped foot into the theater room for Hellfire, had noticed you pulling away over the course of a few months, noticed that you weren’t the best friend he remembered. And, for a brief moment, you felt a pang of guilt lodge itself into your chest.

He always jumped to the worst conclusions first - he would likely think your mood was the result of something he’d done, that you were tired of him or eager to get away from him - and you nearly broke down and spilled your secrets right then and there. However, before you could, Eddie reached out to tug at a lock of your hair.

“I like the haircut, by the way. One of your friends do it?” When you nodded, he shook his head fondly. With an exaggerated sigh, he reached for the blanket and spread it across your laps. “Y’know, your parents thought I was a bad influence.” They’d hated him at first, swore he was the reason you started listening to metal and wearing black, but eventually grew fond of him, the more time he spent at your house. “Your new friends, though? They’re the real bad influences. Coming home with piercings and shit. Can’t wait to hear what your parents have to say about it.”

“You might never hear from me again if they manage to find out,” you warned, scoffing as you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

Eddie grinned at the laughter he managed to pull from you, triumphant in a way that made you want to laugh - though, you knew he only felt so accomplished because you’d spent hours distancing yourself - and sighed contentedly as he settled back against the cushions. The moment felt normal, like something that you could handle, and you would’ve been fine, pretending that things were normal - if only a little uncomfortable with the proximity - had he not moved.

As the movie began to play, Eddie placed a warm hand on your calf. His calloused fingers traced your skin lightly, absentmindedly drawing nonsensical patterns, as he turned his full focus to the television. You knew that he meant nothing by it - he’d done it a thousand times before, casually pressed himself closer - it overwhelmed you. The weight of his touch, the heat of his hand, the cold sting of his rings, the care he took to move slowly in case you started to doze off; it all melded into a sensation that had your heart hammering against your ribcage and your lungs burning as you struggled to catch your breath.

In the past, it would’ve taken only moments for you to melt into the couch. Eddie’s soft touch, the weight of the old blanket stretched across your laps, the quiet hum of the television; it would’ve all lulled you into a peaceful sleep almost instantly. The conditions were ideal - something about Eddie’s place always helped you rest a little easier and, recently, you began to wonder if it was Eddie himself - but the turmoil raging in your brain kept you from settling, despite the exhaustion weighing heavily over you.

Instead, you sat, half-tucked into the corner, as still as possible - body stiff, unyielding to Eddie’s gentle touch - and stared at the television without truly seeing. Though the movie was one of your favorites, little about it managed to catch your eye as you focused on keeping your breathing even and your limbs from trembling beneath Eddie’s touch.

Beside you, Eddie did his best to remain still.

Most nights, he fidgeted throughout the movie - tapped his foot or twirled his rings or shifted until you finally shoved him down and wrapped your arms around him - but the only sign of life you noticed was his careful fingers, brushing your overheated skin.

Try as you might, the movie did little to hold your attention. There were moments you loved, moments that typically drew raucous laughter, that went unnoticed and you only laughed quietly - a reflex more than real amusement - at your favorite line when Eddie glanced at you.

At the noise, Eddie sighed and turned to face you. He gently squeezed your calf, hand searing against your skin, and shook his head fondly. “I can’t believe you actually like this movie, princess,” he teased, soft smile evident even in the dark of the living room. The light from the television bounced off his skin, cast soft shadows across his face, and made you ache to reach out and trace the slope of his noise. “I thought you had good taste.”

Any other time, you would’ve tossed a pillow at him and ardently fought back. This time, you simply rolled your eyes and shrugged. “You’ve been wrong before, Eds.” The tease was half-hearted, lobbed at him on instinct, and Eddie frowned as he reached for the remote.

“Alright,” he sighed, voice quiet as he squeezed your calf once more. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Before the question fully settled, you shook your head. “Nothing’s bothering me,” you attempted to assure him, though your voice shook as you pulled your legs away and tucked them to your chest. You offered him the most convincing smile you could muster - one that felt fake, one you knew he would see through. “I’m fine.”

Eddie scoffed. “C’mon, princess. I’ve known you for ages,” he reminded you as he leaned over to turn on the lamp. “Something’s up and I can tell. I just want to help.” He paused, took a moment to search your face, and frowned as he shifted in his seat. “Is it… Did I do something?”

Instantly, you shook your head. This was the reaction you’d been afraid of - worried that Eddie would read your discomfort as a result of something he’d done, rather than something you felt - and you tried your best to convince him otherwise. “No,” your assertion was strong, heavy, but Eddie looked less than convinced. “It’s not… it’s nothing you’ve done. I promise. It’s just been a weird brain day.”

He frowned at this and turned to face you. Soft brown eyes searched your face in search of an answer to his question. “Well, talk me through it,” he urged, shrugging as if that was the most logical suggestion. “We’ll make sense of whatever’s happening. I can… I don’t know, tell you your brain’s wrong?”

Though you wanted to smile at his offer, you knew that there would be no comfort in the conversation so you shook your head. “I can’t. It’s just… It’s not like that, okay? I just have to deal with it alone. It’s not a big deal, I promise. I’ll be fine.”

“I can help,” Eddie reminded you, almost desperately. “I promise, I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I get bad brain days, you know I do. Just talk to me.” He paused for a moment, allowed his words to linger in the air, before he tilted his head to study you intently. “Is it work? School? Homesickness? Is someone being a dick to you? D’you fail that chemistry exam?”

“Eddie. Drop it. Please.” Your voice shook as you begged him to drop the subject but you knew Eddie. There was little he wouldn’t do to help you - he’d been your voice of reason a thousand times before, had been your sounding board, helped. You on the worst mental health days - but his constant questioning was beginning to drive you insane.

Tears stung at the backs of your eyes, threatened to spill over your lashes, and Eddie frowned as he shifted closer. “I just want to help, princess,” he breathed, voice dropping to a near whisper. “Please, let me help. I can grab my stash, if you want. If that’ll make you feel better.”

“Eddie, stop! You can’t help me because you’re the problem.”

The declaration escaped in a desperate screech, louder than you intended and far sharper. Eddie recoiled at your words, eyes wide and lips parted in a sort of hurt that made your heart ache, and you felt the tears begin to spill over your lashes as you shook your head. “Fuck, Eds, I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

“I… I thought you said I didn’t do anything.” He swallowed thickly, uncertain, and shook his head as he lifted his eyes to yours once more. “What is it? Whatever I did, I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose, right?”

You nodded immediately, though you kept your distance as Eddie reached out for you. “It’s not… you didn’t do anything,” you repeated, voice going quiet as you steeled yourself. There was only one way out of the conversation and, though you knew it was a declaration you couldn’t come back from, you felt it was better to hurt yourself than continue to hurt him. “I just… fuck! I’m in love with you, alright?”

The moment the words spilled into the silence of the living room, you pushed yourself up off the couch and began to pace. “I’m in love with you,” you repeated, voice quiet. “I never really thought about it, you know? We were just… us. But the last time I came home, I really looked at you for the first time and it just kind of hit me. I know that I’m not you’re type and that this fucks everything up. It’s… it’s stupid, I know, so just… I don’t know. Take me to go get my car or let me sleep out here and I’ll walk back in the morning. Or something, I guess. Whatever.”

Eddie sat, stunned silent, on the couch. You could feel his eyes tracking your every step but before you could make a beeline for the door, he whispered, “You’re in love with me?”

You gave a weak laugh as you nodded. “Yeah,” you mumbled, voice thick with tears as you wrapped your arms around yourself and continued pacing the length of the living room. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“What?” The confusion in his tone nearly stopped you in your tracks. He sounded genuine, as if he couldn’t fathom why you would be apologizing to him, as he asked, “Why are you sorry?”

To you, the answer was obvious. “Because, we had such a good thing going, just being friends. It was perfect. Me falling in love with you fucks that up. I know that you’re not into me, that I’m not your type, and I really want to be friends with you but it’s so fucking hard looking at you when all I can think about is how head over heels I am.”

“Who said you weren’t my type?” Eddie raised an eyebrow as he stood from the couch and moved to stand in your immediate path. He reached out, placed his hands on your biceps, and waited for you to glance up at him. “And who said that I’m not into you?”

It was too difficult to look him in the eye, especially when your heart felt as if it might leap out of your throat, so you shook your head and turned your eyes to your feet. “I know what you’re into, Eds, and it’s not me. It’s girls like Chrissy. And that’s fine. You like what you like. You don’t have to… you don’t have to pretend, okay? Just,” you took a deep breath, eager to calm yourself, and shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s hand lifted to your chin. He gingerly tilted your head with two fingers and met your eyes with glassy ones of his own. “Sweetheart,” he cooed, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I’ve been in love with you since junior year.”

It was your turn to blink owlishly at him. Eddie laughed quietly as you shook your head. “What? No. I… what?”

He smiled, a goofy grin, and nodded. “You came back from summer break with no braces and that ‘take-no-shit’ attitude and I would’ve done anything you asked me to do. Fuck, I worshiped the ground you walked on,” he admitted, not ashamed in the least as he met your eyes. “But you went goofy over that asshole and I assumed I wasn’t your type. I figured you might want someone who has a chance of getting out of here someday. Looks like we were both wrong, huh?”

“Eddie…” Every thought you’d been spiraling over, every possible scenario you’d prepared yourself for, vanished as you searched his face for any hint of deception. There was a light in his eyes, a brightness that had been missing, and a lopsided grin that reassured you - this was no joke. “How’d you survive? I just realized and I’ve been going insane.”

His easy laughter filled your ears, eased the knot in your stomach, and calmed you as he brushed his thumb across your cheekbone. “Oh, I’ve been insane,” he declared, grinning as he took a tentative step closer. “That’s part of my charm.” He winked, exaggerated and over the top, and grinned when it pulled a soft giggle from you.

“Definitely part of the reason I fell in love with you.” Allowing the words to spill so easily, to pull them into a conversation, eased the weight that had nearly crushed you. It made your heart soar and breathing just a little easier when Eddie’s smile brightened. "The hair totally helped, though.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed, nodding sagely. “I get it. I totally would’t date me without the hair.”

“You’re ridiculous, Munson,” you teased, grinning when he hid behind a lock of his hair. “Completely and utterly, you know that, right?”

He shrugged, completely unaffected, and wagged his eyebrows. “And I’m totally in love with you. You know that, right?”

“I’m starting to get it. Might need you to repeat it a few more times,” you suggested as you struggled to conceal your grin. “Just to really drive the point home, you know?”

Eddie nodded, looked as if it was the most reasonable request you’d ever made, and tilted his head. “What’s the tallest building in Hawkins?”

A surprised laugh escaped as you searched his face for any clue as to why he was asking. “I have no clue. Does it matter?”

“Kinda,” he argued as he struggled to keep from laughing. “If I want to shout it from the rooftops, I gotta figure out the best place to start. Thought about the cafeteria but someone actually graduated so… Rooftop it is.”

“Wow. You really are insane. Geez,” you laughed as you met his eyes, “too late to take that confession back?”

“Totally,” Eddie asserted, grinning when he used the hand on your cheek to tip your head. “I love you, you love me. No take-backs in love, princess. You’re stuck with me now.”

The smile you’d been struggling to conceal was near blinding, stretched and burned as you beamed at him, but you decided that you could live with it when Eddie’s answering grin made your heart skip a beat. “I think I can live with that.”

For the first time, Eddie had nothing to say. Instead, he leaned in to press his lips to yours in a searing kiss - another cliche, one that saw fireworks popping behind your eyes and butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. Though this was not where you imagined your night going, who were you to question the way the universe worked?

Falling in love with Eddie was not something you imagined but, now, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

____________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Challenging myself to write less than 5k for the next fic I write (spoiler; I will probably fail). Anyway. I’m all packed for my trip and am gonna download some Stranger Things episodes to watch on the flight so. Whee.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy

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