Disjointed: Twenty-Six

Disjointed: Twenty-Six

Summary: Jealousy is as fierce as the grave.

Word count: 8.4k

What to expect: Smut/Lemon (-18 kindly dni) Angst.

A/N: Howdy, friends. Welcome back! I hope you guys enjoy this one. Let me know if you do!

Special thanks to the hive for brain storming with me. Because this one was annoyingly difficult. ❣️

The new year in the surgical ward meant scut work for everybody. The only surgery cases coming in were from the emergency room, and even then most patients were trying to bargain their way into just being patched up until the later months once they paid off the newly reset deductible. No one wanted to pay for surgery without the little percentage that insurance covered once the out of pocket payment was met for the year.

With there only being an average of three cases a day, the idle nursing staff were responsible for the mind numbing task of taking inventory. All the instruments had to be counted, re-logged with their serial number, and reordered if there was any deficit. The same went for the supplies in the wing, such as soaps, solutions, dressings, and everything else under the sun a doctor may need during a procedure. The autoclaves, oxygen tanks, and other necessary equipment had to be serviced by the manufacturing company and given the bright orange sticker that signified a passed inspection and logged into a binder in case anyone from the state quality control agency came snooping.

The downside to this was that with six unoccupied nurses doing the same task for twelve hours in the morning shift, and twelve hours in the evening, everything had been completed within a few days. Dr. Erlich wasn’t too keen on paying six nurses to sit around and gossip about Fisher being caught with his pants around his ankles in the chapel with Delia, so Dr. Erlich made Beatrice reintroduce flexing.

At first, only working six hours a day made you worry about losing too much money, but when the check from all the accumulated overtime from December hit, the concern was quickly forgotten.

You had never received a check large enough to have a comma in it, so when you did all your financial worries subsided for just a second. Eddie wanted to blow it on a microwave, but you talked him out of it. Instead, the money went to a house full of food which Eddie said was the first time he ever got to buy name brand cereals instead of generic, and a couple pounds of top sirloin steak. Eddie looked too damn excited over slabs of beef to not give in to his plea, and when he pulled “Think of Wayne. A Sunday spent grilling steaks? It would mean the world to him,” it was impossible to deny him. Not that you were planning to anyway—he was so cute when he thought he was getting away with something.

The rest of the money went into the bank for a rainy day. Well, more like what you owed Steve for the tools, what Eddie owed the shop, what you both owed the hospital, a prom dress, and whatever incidentals that were flung your way. It fucking sucked being in debt. And no matter the cushion in the account, the thought of owing so much was a looming shadow over everything. Would saving the $1.87 difference between Chocolate Sugar Puffs and Coco-Puffs really matter much in paying off the collective debt total of over $10,000? Unlikely. Even so, the guilt of having a simple novelty weighed heavily on you once the rush of being able to “afford” such a thing wore off.

Eddie sure enjoyed having you home before him, and it felt almost like normal again. It was…weird at first to have him missing from the house after school. He often invited you to come to Gareth’s garage when he went to band practice. Sometimes you did, sometimes you didn’t—not wanting to be the clingy and annoying girlfriend loitering about. And without another girl to hangout with in the small garage, it was easy to feel that way.

Eddie having a job was even stranger. You drove him to work on Saturday mornings in his cute jumpsuit looking dangerously sexy, leaving you alone in the house until late afternoon when you went to pick him up, his idea to squeeze a few extra minutes together.

Having time to yourself outside of sleeping was totally new. As much as you loved him, Eddie being absent was kind of nice once you got used to it. He wasn’t around to ask for things he was either too lazy or too blind to see (‘Where’s the remote? Are we out of ketchup? I don’t see it in the fridge. Have you seen my bandana?’), nor did you have to sacrifice a sizable bite of food to what was known as ‘the husband tax’ when he got a peek into your cereal bowl. (‘Really, babe? I said a bite not a nibble.’) You could watch the TV in peace without Eddie’s constant commentary drowning out the actor’s line of dialogue, and you were able to explore your own body in a way you hadn’t since moving into your new home. Of course it didn’t feel quite as good as when Eddie used his fingers on you, but the ability to try without an audience or potential interruption made up for it.

Now that you were the one coming home early on the weekends when Eddie worked, you took over making dinner. You checked on the tenderness of the beef roast in the oven, hoping Eddie would like it. You had yet to find something he wouldn’t eat, but you feared the day was soon to come.

“Another hour or so,” you muttered to yourself after poking the hunk of meat. Checking the time to see when dinner would be ready, you hadn’t realized that you were supposed to already be on the way to the garage to pick up Eddie.

Though you’d rather he put off working and stay focused on finally graduating, you couldn’t help but be proud of him. He hadn’t skipped any scheduled shifts, nor did he show up late. He told stories of his coworkers. There was Travis, his son Trevor, Caleb, and an old guy named Scooter that left most of his brain cells back in the 1960s. Eddie seemed to get along with them, you supposed. He never said that he didn’t, nor did he come home bellyaching about any of them. Besides the time one of them microwaved fish for lunch and had the whole break room smelling like ass and a half for two days.

He had plenty of stories about customers who tried to bandage something in their car with the wrong part, laughing and snorting as he called them idiots. Much like when he talked about DnD, You honestly hadn’t the faintest idea what he was talking about, but you nodded and agreed with him wholeheartedly anyway. It was nice seeing him passionate about his work, and knowing that he was doing what he could to help shoulder some financial responsibility made you feel much more secure with him in a way you hadn’t realized you weren’t before.

It was also a real treat to see him sweaty, grimy, and tired from what Wayne would call a day of honest work. While Eddie was attractive in almost any state, seeing the skin of his taut biceps glistening with sweat and marked with smudges of motor oil was oddly alluring.

Pulling into an empty parking space, you quickly killed the engine and started to jog into the storefront. While the glass thermometer on the doorframe said it was 25 degrees outside, each inhale of cold air felt like a flurry of pin needles stabbing your nose and throat. It didn’t matter that you were in your warmest pair of fleece bottoms and winter coat—the few seconds of exposure had the chill seeing into your bones.

You sighed with relief as the warmth of the lobby met the skin of your frozen cheeks. The owner, a ginger bearded mountain man named Trevor, leaned back in his desk chair to peek through the open door of the office. Once he realized it was you, he gave a small wave, let you know Eddie was still messing around in the garage, and turned his attention back to his desk disappearing from sight.

Trevor was the only coworker you had been formally introduced to and it was awful. Apparently he thought Eddie was pulling his leg when he said he was married and no, it wasn’t a shotgun wedding since there wasn’t a teenage pregnancy involved. With those missing elements, Trevor believed Eddie was just talking out of his ass because why would a guy his age ‘saddle himself with a ball and chain so early in life without reason?’ The sentiment was insulting enough, but the fact that Trevor said it to Eddie in front of you like you couldn’t hear him was horrifically disrespectful. Eddie laughed awkwardly and made haste in ushering you out of there before anything else could be said.

The other guys you met only in passing—a wave from the van or in Scooter’s case, when he came to the car window to presumably introduce himself, but somehow decided reciting Ronald Regan’s entire filmography in alphabetical order was a better conversation starter. Another bizarre encounter Eddie had to intercept.

The wall adjacent to the garage was made of glass panels for customers (and likely Trevor) to see the progress being made in the garage. Eddie was at his workstation wiping down his fancy chrome set of tools before filing them away. It seemed no matter the weather, Eddie couldn’t be bothered to keep his jumpsuit on all the way. Though, at least this time he had on a long sleeved shirt to accommodate the cold before tying the sleeves of his canvas suit around his waist. You couldn’t help but smile at him. Hair pulled back just enough by his bandana to keep his bangs from his eyes, but allowed his wild curls to frame his smudged face, Eddie was as handsome as ever.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one to think so.

From seemingly out of nowhere, a slim woman no older than twenty-five with blue eyes and blond hair teased to high heaven sauntered into the garage, taking extra care to swish her hips with each step of her heeled boots.

You made no attempt to hide your eye roll. Who wears heeled suede boots when the street is filled with black ice? Was she asking for a broken neck just for the sake of fashion? The rest of her outfit made even less sense. Sheer tights covered her legs under a tight sweater dress with no coat or hat in sight. If you still worked in the ER, you felt comfortable betting money in seeing her skimpy ass on a gurney seeking treatment for pneumonia.

Your annoyance with her impracticality just to show off her body turned into full fledged anger when she stood next to Eddie, grabbing his wrist with a manicured hand and smiling up at him through her lashes.

The pathetic attempt at a pout on her cherry red lips sent your heart racing fast enough to where your chest began to ache. The hussie couldn’t have missed the ring on his finger, the one thing that damn near sparkled on his dirty hand, which of course happened to be the one she was grabbing. As soon as her thumb started to sweep over his wrist, a move you often did to him when you held his hand, you saw red.

Scoffing aloud to yourself, you marched toward the glass window pane with flared nostrils and a clenched jaw. Surely once she saw you smiling at her with eyes full of venom and flashed your ring at her, she would get the hint and take her paws off your husband.

But, as you neared the window, your own reflection pulled your attention away from your mission.

Where this mystery woman had styled hair, your own was tucked under a knitted beanie that Eddie’s big head outgrew long ago. Your puffy maroon winter coat made you look like the feminine version of the Michelin Man, not a full figured woman like her. Slimming sheer tights and heeled boots made your fleece pajama pants and no-slip work shoes look downright barbaric.

Actually, the longer you compared yourself to her, the more you realized you looked homeless rather than just homely. Your hands were dry and cracked from the cold and insane amount of times you washed your hands at work, and your face bore no makeup.

Rage melting into despair, you watched Eddie, still seemingly unaware of your arrival, nod to whatever she was saying with a lopsided grin on his face—big enough for one of his dimples to dent his cheek.

While you didn’t expect Eddie to shove her across the garage, you did expect him to at least look uncomfortable or try to weasel out of her grip. Maybe find an excuse to point out his wedding band and force her to acknowledge its existence. If he’d just look to the left and through the window, he’d see you standing right there. But no. He remained engaged in whatever conversation he was party to.

Your heart sank farther into your stomach the longer he remained in her grasp. The desire for him to wiggle away from her molded into the realization that maybe he didn’t want to. Though it pained you to say it, she was pretty, and if he looked at you at that moment, he would see that you weren’t.

You tried to tell yourself that you were being ridiculous, but you didn’t have enough time to complete the thought. Because when that woman curled his hair around her finger and giggled at him, you had seen enough.

——

No one ever accused Eddie of being a genius, but he didn’t have to be one to know you were mad. He could see it through the hazy mist from the garage as he pulled the door shut behind him.

He hoped it had something to do with work, but again it didn’t take a whiz kid to know that it wasn’t.

Eddie hadn’t seen you arrive or make your way into the warm sanctuary of the store, but he did hear you stomping back out to the car loud enough to wake the dead. He directed the customer that insisted on tangling his already matted locks with her eagle talons to Trevor in order to work out the payment—something she not so subtly tried to convince Eddie should be lowered—as he watched you climb into the passenger side of the Mystery Machine and slam the door so hard it made him worry about the window cracking.

If the stomping wasn’t a sign, you getting in the car that way certainly was.

It had become a bit of a game between the two of you when you came to pick him up. Once you saw him starting to lock up his box, you’d go back to the van and sit in the driver’s seat while he gave you enough time to do so. Then when he made his way over, he’d tell you to ‘scoot your boot’ and either offer you the easy or hard way out. ‘Easy way’ was him being charged 1-3 good kisses before you slid over to the passenger side. The ‘hard way’ was a smart smack to the thigh and Eddie trying to climb his way onto your lap until you relented and moved out of the way—still often followed by the same parameters as the ‘easy way’.

Maybe Trevor said something to you that made you mad enough to decide sitting in the car was better than waiting in the warmth. It wouldn’t be the first time Trevor said something stupid in front of you.

Preparing to hear about what his asshole boss said now, he climbed into the van and placed his tools on the floorboard behind the seat before attempting to smile at you.

“What did he do this time?” Eddie asked as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

Instead of looking at him and launching into a story about what went wrong in there, you clutched your arms tighter against your chest and looked out of the passenger side window.

“Helloooo?” he questioned, waving his hand around the side of your head. “I said, ‘what did he do this time’?”

When you still didn’t answer him or turn your head his way, he grumbled a ‘Guess I’ll just go to hell then,’ before pulling out of the driveway and onto the main road. He didn’t turn on his Judas Priest tape just in case you felt the urge to spill the beans, and got increasingly worried the longer you remained silent. By the time he passed the corner store three miles from the shop, he finally got a word from you.

At first he didn’t hear you, having spoken too softly for him to make out more than a syllable or two. When he asked you to repeat yourself, you once again didn’t speak any louder than a whisper.

“You’re mad because Trevor called you pretty?” Eddie guessed with confusion. “I can’t exactly hear you when you’re talking to the window.”

“She was pretty,” you replied a little louder.

“Who?”

You finally turned to meet his gaze with a blank expression. “The woman at the shop. Couldn’t have missed her, Eddie, she wasn’t but a hair width away from your face.”

He nearly swerved into the left lane when he snapped his neck to look at you with utter disbelief. Dumbfounded, he asked, “What?”

You rolled your eyes and went back to looking through the window.

Eddie kept staring at you as he wracked his brain for the reason behind the bite in your words, and only one possibility came to mind.

“You mean the chick with the she-mullet?” he questioned incredulously.

“I don’t know. Was there more than one girl with her hands in your hair today?” you snapped bitterly.

Eyes flickering between the road and what he could see of your hidden face, it took a second for the implication set in. When his brain made the connection, he started cackling.

“That’s what’s got steaming coming from your ears?” he chuckled. “Jealousy?”

When you didn’t respond, he laughed even harder.

“Babe, come on,” he continued to snicker. “You have no reason to be jealous of anybody, okay? You know I’ve only got eyes for you.” He leaned over to give you a peck on the side of your head, but you moved farther away from him.

Eddie smirked. “Really? Come on. Give me a kiss.”

You ignored him completely.

Eddie’s grin slipped from his face. With furrowed brows, he leaned over to try and catch your line of sight. “Hey,” he frowned. “You know I only have eyes for you, right?”

He was once again met with silence.

Pulling up to the stoplight, Eddie tried again. This wasn’t funny anymore. “Y/N. Please tell me you know that.”

Startling him with your sudden movement, Eddie’s eyes bulged as he took in your expression, scowling at him like he just said this most offensive thing you’ve ever heard.

“I don’t think even you know that,” you spat.

Eddie’s frown turned into bewilderment. “The hell does that mean?”

You huffed sharply before answering. “It means exactly what I said. How do you know? That you ‘only have eyes for me’?” The use of air quotations sent aggravation prickling through Eddie’s nerves. “You’ve only ever been with me, so you don’t know that.”

Eddie couldn’t be more confused as to what you were on about. When he said as much, you sighed in exasperation.

“I’m saying that you’ve only been with one woman. Me. You don’t know any different.”

“So? Who said I wanted different?”

“It’s like saying your favorite flavor is strawberry when you’ve never been offered any other kind. Once someone dangles a taste of rocky road in front of you, then what?”

Lost in staring at you incredulously, Eddie hadn’t realized the light had been green for several moments before the car behind him started to blare the horn in rapid recession. Eddie raised his hand up in a quick apology before accelerating. Though he should have kept his eyes on the slick road, he couldn’t tear his glance away from your angered glare and wonder if you were really putting down what he was picking up.

There was only one way to find out. Trying not to be offended, Eddie asked, “You’re saying I’m only with you because you’re the only girl who’s ever paid attention to me?”

“Am I wrong?” You challenged bitterly.

“Fucking—YES!” Eddie shouted angrily. “You’re absolutely fucking wrong about that!” Forcing himself to focus on the road, he kept his face twisted with fury. “Nice to know that’s what you really think of me. How would you know, anyway? I’m the only dude you’ve ever really been with. Are you only with me because I paid attention to you?”

“It's different for me,” you replied sharply.

“Why? Cause you had a ten second tumble with some guy in your friend’s car?” he spat venomously. “I wouldn’t exactly call that trying another flavor.”

You scowled at him. “No, asshole. It’s different because I love you more than you love me.”

Eddie’s foot slammed on the brakes in the middle of the road, surging both of you forward into the dashboard. For what felt like the hundredth time in the last few minutes, Eddie shrieked, “What? What did you just say?”

You couldn’t be serious. This had to be some sort of sick joke. Things had been fine. Better, actually, now that you weren’t as busy. He hadn’t felt this close to you ever—not before New Years at least. The phrase from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas often ran through his mind when he looked over your sleeping form at night—Heart growing three sizes and whatnot. He couldn’t have possibly gotten it this wrong.

“I thought you finished your period last week. Are you on it again? Because you sound fucking insane.”

“This whole time, Eddie, I’ve had to convince you that I want you. I’ve had to show you over and over and over that I choose you. I’ve been away from Hawkins. I’ve been to college. I have gone out on dates before you. I know you’re the one I want. Seeing that harlot all over you made me realize that you probably only think you love me because yeah, I’ve been the only one around.”

He wasn’t sure if it was because you were saying these things so matter-of-fact or that you looked like you truly believed them, maybe a combination of both. Whatever it was, his eyes started to sting from the pain of his heart breaking.

“And you got all of that,” he began with a croak. “From a chick with a mullet trying to get a discount on her oil change?”

Your bottom lip started to tremble, though Eddie could see your effort in trying to stop it. “Well. If not her, then I’m sure someone out there in the real world will turn your head.”

The sound of another blaring horn snapped him out of his thoughts, remembering he was just sitting in the middle of the single lane road. Eddie wiggled his nose in an effort to keep his tears from betraying him and hit the gas.

“You’re wrong,” he sniffled discreetly. “So very fucking wrong.”

The remainder of the short drive was as silent as a morgue. Eddie propped his elbow on the ledge of his window and leaned against his knuckles as he drove. He’d glance over at you periodically, but you stayed in the same position—whole body turned towards the passenger side door and pressed against it like a lifeline. Shoulders trembling every once in a while let him know you were crying though he couldn’t hear a sound.

He couldn’t decipher what he was feeling. Offended as all hell because you thought he was some loveless loser who will just take whatever he can get. Pissed off that you were treating him like an ignoramus that was too stupid to know what or how he felt. Aggravated that you would try to tell him to his fucking face that he didn’t love you the same as you did him. And most of all, devastated that you believed it.

He sighed heavily when he spotted the rusted sign for the trailer park. The irony was not lost on him that it was he who was usually on the other side of the conversation. Of the two of you, you were the sensible one. The one who kept things grounded. The one who managed the episodes of catastrophizing that took place every one in a while. Watching you believe wholeheartedly in something that couldn’t be farther from the truth was new to him.

He knew exactly what you were feeling since it had been a battle he often lost with himself, and unfortunately the subject of a few disagreements. He knew why he felt that way—He was broke, still in fucking high school at 20 years old, immature at times, and the best night of his week was playing a board game with a bunch of kids at least thee years younger than him—most not even old enough to drive a car.

But why would you think you weren’t good enough for him? And why was some random chick touching his hair against his will the catalyst? It’s not like he did anything wrong. He didn’ flirt, touch, or do something that could be perceived as cheating. So what the hell?

He fully intended to ask these questions once you were both at home and no longer at risk of holding up any more traffic. But when he pulled into the drive, you opened your own door and bolted up the concrete steps. He tried to catch up to you to at least open the door for you, but flung it open yourself and nearly took him out with it.

The house wasn’t as warm as the store front, but 60 degrees was far more comfortable than 25. His stomach growled at the smell of hot food wafting through the air, and he quickly kicked off his boots to enjoy dinner.

He carefully approached you as you pulled a chipped ceramic pot from the oven, setting it down onto the coils of the stove. “What’s to eat?” He asked delicately.

You pulled off the mismatched oven mitts and threw them onto the counter with more force than necessary before mumbling, “Food,” and storming off down the hall.

Eddie rubbed his palm over his forehead as he watched you slam the bedroom door shut. He didn’t know how, but he was going to have to fix this.

——

Numb was the best way to describe your current emotional state. No longer upset, not angry, not even hurt. Just void of any and all emotions.

Though he didn’t believe you now, Eddie would realize you were, as usual, right. You were sure the more he hung around other women, the less he’d want to be with you. There were plenty of prettier, interesting, more feminine girls around that would love him. It was an easy thing to do.

Goofy, endearing, handsome, selfless, talented, and kind—these were only a few things that made Eddie one of the best people you’d ever met. Sure, he was fucking stupid at times and would get carried away with Dungeon Master persona around his friends, and by god did you wish he’d stop waiting until you were mid shower to burst into the bathroom to take a shit—but all that aside, he was without a doubt a good man.

It seemed unfair you were only a placeholder until someone better came along.

Buried under the cold sheets of the bed, you shuffled as close to the edge as you could. Trying to fall asleep as a way to escape your thoughts of him when you were surrounded by everything Eddie was nearly impossible. He was everywhere all the time—his scent on the sheets, random strands of his hair stuck to your clothes, the smiley face he drew on the top of your oxfords for work, the occasional hickey or too that had to be covered by makeup. You gave up on the idea of trying to drift into blissful unawareness and just blankly stared at the posters on the wall, not really seeing them.

Mindlessly picking at the singed hole in the gray sheet, likely from Eddie’s smoking days, you nearly jumped out of your skin when the door suddenly flung open.

Keeping your back towards the door, the scent of Irish Spring invaded your nose. You hoped he would go to the living room and watch Mork & Mindy or something, maybe fall asleep out there so you didn’t have to be near him right now.

But of course that didn’t happen. Instead of going away, Eddie’s weight made the lumpy mattress dip beneath him as he settled next to you. You rolled your eyes and burrowed deeper under the blanket.

“Why?” He asked aloud.

“No,” you answered simply. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Well that shits because I do,” he argued. “You had your time to mope. Now let’s fix it.”

Sneering, you replied “There’s nothing to fix, Eddie. Just drop it.”

He sighed and shuffled around. “You know I do have eyes right? You’re not the first girl I’ve ever seen, and I’ve talked to other chicks before, too. Just because I never did anything with them before you doesn’t mean I saw you and went ‘Wow. She kissed me and now she’s topless. I’m never gonna have this chance again. Can’t let her go.’”

You scoffed. “That’s not what I said—“

“Yes, it is!” he snapped. “You’re making it sound like you’re the only chick to ever look me in the eye and that I’m fucking desperate. And I’m not.”

Electing to ignore the point he made, you said, “I know you have eyes, Eddie. That’s what I’m saying. You’ll see someone prettier and that’ll be it. You’ll come home reminding me that this was supposed to just be for the insurance anyway and that we can still be friends later even though we both know you won’t mean it.”

“Why do you suddenly think I’m gonna run off?” he asked. “You’ve never thought that before—that I know of at least—so what the hell makes you think that now?”

True, you never considered it before. But you also never saw anyone else give Eddie the kind of attention you did. You didn’t think you had any competition since it has always just been the two of you and a bunch of dudes, save for Robin and Nancy. But seeing someone better looking at him the same way you do…

You rolled over onto your side to face him and propped yourself up on our elbow, unknowingly mirroring his exact position. He hadn’t bothered to put on anything other than his boxers, letting water droplets from his wet hair slide down his chest and arms—a sight that made your frown deepen.

“What do I look like to you right now?” You questioned.

Seemingly irritated, he ran his eyes over your body and shrugged. “Annoyed?”

“I’m serious,” you deadpanned.

“So am I!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know what answer you’re looking for! Cold? Comfortable? Like you’re ready to go to sleep?”

You huffed. “How about like I should be begging for change at the stoplight on Main?”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth ticked up into a small smirk. “You’d make a pretty sexy panhandler.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Eddie, just stop!” You shouted angrily, throwing your hand up in Exasperation.

Eddie threw his head back and let out a frustrated groan. “Can we stop playing guessing games? Just fucking tell me what your damage is. Since when have you not believed me when I call you sexy?”

You studied his disgruntled face with equal agitation. “You didn’t move!” You yelled. Flinging yourself onto your back and crossing your arms over your chest, you continued. “There was another woman with her hands on you and you didn’t move.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Uh, well, she’s a customer so I can’t exactly suckerpunch her in the throat,” he replied sarcastically. “And I did move after she grabbed my hair. Actually had some of it pulled out ‘cause it got stuck on those beads or whatever she had glued to her nail.” Eddie wiggled closer so he could look you in the eyes. Brow furrowed, he said, “I get being jealous, but I don’t understand why you think some random chick is gonna all of a sudden whisk me away.”

“I told you,” you spat. “She was pretty.”

“And you’re not?” he challenged.

Attempting to keep him from seeing the pained expression on your face, You looked away from him and directed your gaze towards the hand drawn Led Zeppelin poster on the opposite side of the room without answering him.

Eddie’s annoyance fizzled into concern as his face softened. “Wait—seriously?” he questioned with disbelief. “You really think that?”

You scoffed at his dismissive tone. “My hair is always in a bun or ponytail. I’ve had the same clothes for the last two years. My hands are about as smooth as sandpaper and look like they belong to an old man. Wouldn't even know how to stand up in a pair of heels let alone walk in them. Probably smell like bleach and guts all the time from work.” You wiped away the rogue tears that seeped from the corner of your eye and sniffled. “I’m about as glamorous as a fucking turnip.”

Unable to keep the sob at bay any longer, you turned your back to him once again. Or at least attempted to. Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you with him towards the middle of the bed despite your verbal insistence through throaty sobs to just leave you alone. You didn’t want him to lie in an attempt to make you feel better. You knew you weren’t going to be like the girl from the shop, or as cute as someone like Nancy with her permed hair and stupid round bambi eyes.

“Hey. Hey. Stop,” Eddie demanded softly as he fought against your determination to get away from him. He managed to get you on your back, and cage your head between his elbows as he braced himself on his forearms. When you tried to wiggle away, he put more of his body weight on yours. “Look at me.”

Hiccuping, you tried to calm yourself down enough to oblige even though you really didn’t want to. He wiped the wetness from under your eyes and cheeks, and even went as far as wiping your nose with his bare hand before wiping it on the sheet without a second thought.

“Gross,” you muttered quietly.

Eddie ignored your comment and rested his forehead on yours, forcing you to look at him, though you were fairly certain that you were now cross-eyed as well as snotty and tear stained.

“Wanna know what I think?” He asked gently.

You sniffled and cleared your throat. “Not really.”

Eddie chuckled lightly. “Well, too bad, because I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

He leaned on his arm so he could free up his other hand to grab yours. Bringing your fingertips towards his mouth, he places soft kisses to each one.

“These hands are beautiful because,” he paused to turn your palm over to pay equal attention to your knuckles and wrist. “They heal the sick and wounded. Create kick ass food. Keep mine company. And hey, the hand jobs are pretty stellar, too.”

That earned a watery chortle and an eyeroll from you as you tried to pull from his grip. “Just what I always wanted to hear—“

“I’m not done,” he scolded, lacing his large fingers between yours and placing a final smooch on the back of your hand. His lips traveled up your arms in a session of gentle kisses until he made his eyes level with your again.

Pressing his lips on your forehead, he continued. “The brain you got in here could make us millionaires if we got you on Jeopardy. Got a lot of knowledge, wicked ideas—I mean wicked as in cool—and wit sharp enough to carve glass. Oh, and the crinkle right here you get when you’re scowling at me? I know I’m not on your nerves until I see It.”

He made sure to give every bit of your body a visit from his lips. Saying your eyes were his favorite color and he loved the way they lit up with joy over small things—like when you noticed the dishes were washed and put away. He claimed your cheeks were perfect real estate for raspberries and made sure to gift one to each side before adding, “oh and here, too,” and burying his face in your neck to provide another. He smiled at the quiet laugh you let out at that.

Stroking your bottom lip with his thumb, he grinned. “Gorgeous lips, devilish tongue that you most certainly have used for evil on me, and the voice of an angel.”

“You're so full of it,” you said bashfully.

“Full of love,” he jested with wiggled eyebrows.

You leaned in to press your lips to his, but he pulled back. “No can do, sweetheart,” he shook his head. “Cause if I do that I’m not gonna be able to finish my guided tour.”

You wanted to argue with him that he could indulge just a little, but he refused and continued his journey down your cloth covered chess.

“You’ve got to know how much I love my girls,” he said. Propping himself up on his elbows to get a good handful, he stared at you with his mouth agape. “You came to work in the freezing cold with no bra on?” he said gleefully. “Fucking hell you’re gonna kill me.” Not bothering to lift your shirt up, Eddie’s tongue went to work.

Despair was rapidly morphing into desire at the sensation of his teeth gently scraping across the sensitive flesh—the texture of the cotton adding extra stimulation. Closing your eyes to get lost in the feel of it, you hand found refuge over his kneading one.

He moved on faster than you would have liked, giving attention to your sternum. “Got a good heart, too. Loves pretty hard when you decide someone earned it. Damn sweet if you ask me.”

Though initially brushing off his attempt to make you feel better, it was starting to work. He lifted your shirt to give two well placed hickies above your belly button to make it look like a face with an open mouth. Snapped the waistband of your lounge pants and said that they were his favorite because your ass jiggle like jello with every step you took while wearing them.

Despite the countless times you’d been wrapped around him, being under his adoring scrutiny had an element of discomfort that he seemed to ease away with the delicate trace of his fingertips along the way.

He skipped over where you really wanted him, once again citing he’d get to it at the end so he could remain on task. Sliding your pants and underwear slowly down your thighs, decorating them with feathery kisses along the way sent your chest heaving with ragged breaths. Eddie’s lips dusting lightly over your knees, caressing your permanently sore calves in the way he knew you liked as he continued toward your ankles was becoming more and more dizzying.

“Ew, don’t kiss my feet!” you exclaimed through giggles when Eddie got too close to your toes.

“Why not?” he mused, ignoring your request completely. “I think they’re cute.”

Mouth tickling the tops of your toes, you winced and wiggled until he pulled your pants off completely and repeated the journey up the other leg, grazing over your belly again, and adding an afterthought when he got to your other hand.

“How could I forget? These hands are also willing to cut people who’ve tried to kill me so that’s a nice perk, too,” he smirked.

Settling his hips between your thighs and nudging his nose against yours, he asked quietly, “Now that I’ve told you how beautiful you are, can I show you?”

A small frown tugged against your lips. The issue wasn’t if he loved you now, but later. When you expressed this to him, Eddie sighed and cradled the side of your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek.

“No one is gonna take me away from you. Not now, not in ten years when all the twizzlers I’ve ever eaten start to catch up with me, not when I’m fifty and graying. You have to trust me on that,” he said sadly.

That was rich, coming from him. How many months had you spent telling him the same thing? “And you?” You retorted with a raised brow. “Do you trust me that I’m not gonna high tail it alongside some jerk with a scalpel? Or hop on his tour bus when Mellencamp comes back for his other knee replacement?”

He snorted. “Since I know for a fact you think he looks like a foot, I can confidently say John Mellencamp doesn’t worry me.” His thumb trailed down to your bottom lip and lightly traced over it. Voice losing all humor, he said, “I know it’s taken a hot minute but yes, I do trust that you’re not gonna disappear on me.”

The tension that seemed to have been there since christmas, or maybe even before, eased away completely. Eddie must have sensed it too, because his faint smile grew a little more lopsided. “Let me show you.”

He was so gorgeous with those big round umber eyes and downright kissable lips. Tucking a piece of his drying hair behind his ear, unable to hide the smile that spread across your face at the shudder Eddie gave when your fingers brushed against it, you gave a small nod of approval.

Light as a feather, Eddie slotted his lips against yours as he continued to cradle your face. You slowly moved your mouth against his, slinking your arms around his bare back and relishing in the weight of his body fully pressed against yours.

Parting long enough to remove your shirt, he last article of clothing for you, Eddie kicked off his boxers and went right back to where he was—the heat of his cock brushing against our center. You tried to slide your hand to grasp him, but he pulled your hand away, interlacing his fingers with yours and held it by your head firmly against the mattress.

Eddie took the whine of disappointment as an opportunity to lick into your mouth. Tongues curling around each other, your breathing became more and more ragged. The warmth from his body, the feel of his chest brushing against your peaked nipples, his hot breath fanning across your cheek with each exhale from his nose was intoxicating and banished all thoughts from your brain.

Trailing his mouth down your jawline and finding a new home in the crook of your neck, electric jolts pulsed through you as he rolled the flesh there between his teeth, nibbling and sucking hard enough to surely leave a mark. In desperate need of friction, your hips bucked on their own accord, sliding deliciously against his hardened length pressed against your center.

Though he groaned and panted against the other side of your neck where he was trying to give a matching mark, Eddie didn’t pay much mind while he worked on driving you insane with the placement of his lips, the rolling of your nipple between his fingers, and tickle of his breath on your neck. At least, not until the head nudged your sensitive button and made both of you gasp.

“Relax,” he whispered, returning his face level with yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Opting to acknowledge all intentions of that statement, you kissed the tip of his nose and whispered back, “I know.”

His mouth found yours once again, languidly mounding to yours as his fingertips drifted down the side of your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake until he reached your knee and hooked it around his waist.

Your fingers began to ache with how tightly you were gripping his back. Feeling him poised at your entrance but making no effort to go any further was maddening. “Eddie,” you whimpered against his lips and opened your eyes to meet his. “Please.”

“Don’t close your eyes,” he instructed, lips still touching yours. “I want you to look at me.”

It was a struggle to do as he said—slipping in slow enough to be borderline torturous, but you obliged and watched his kiss-swollen lips open in a silent ‘O’ as he pushed himself in till the hilt, a simultaneous exhale fanning over each other’s face.

Eddie tightly gripped the doughy flesh of your thigh wrapped around his waist as he steadily rocked his hips against yours. He had never been this delicate before—this slow—and it was wonderful. Taking the time to fully enjoy each other without rushing to quench a primal need, feeling the goosebumps erupt across his skin as you slid your hands down his back, memorizing the flex of every muscle. His thrusts were slow yet powerful, taking your breath away with each bump against the spot within you that only he could reach.

With foreheads touching, noses nudging, and lips skimming in the ghost of a kiss you each inhaled the other’s moans and gasps, the breathless “I love you”s and sigh of each other’s names. Taking what the other gave and breathing as one.

Complying with his command to keep your eyes on him was becoming more and more difficult. Tummy tightening from the tantalizing friction of the coarse patch of hair on his pelvis grinding against your clit was pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Eddie slid his arm under the small of your back, angling your hips in a way that shattered the coil in your belly almost instantly.

Eddie wasn’t far behind, sliding his tongue against yours in a sloppy kiss as he groaned through his release while you mewled through the aftershock of yours.

Sweat slicked chests heaving in unison, you didn’t break away from Eddie’s kiss until the pulses of pleasure subsided. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, catching his breath and preening at your touch as you happily carded your fingers through his hair, peppering his shoulder with kisses and reveling in the salty taste of his skin.

There wasn’t a more perfect moment than this—being held tightly against Eddie’s naked body, the ache in your abdomen sated, all doubt of being inadequate now or later were long gone. This memory would be your first line of defense when the voice of doubt decided to make itself known. Eddie loved you with everything he had: body, mind, and soul. There was no way to part without losing half of himself, or taking half of you with him.

“Okay,” you hummed in content. “I believe you now.”

“Good,” he replied. “But I must warn you, if you ever say I don’t love you like you love me ever again…I don’t know what I’ll do but that shit hurt. Probably keel over and die honestly.”

You frowned at the recollection of your foolish words. “I’m sorry. You’ll be glad to know you convinced me otherwise.”

Eddie pulled his face from the refuge if your neck and rested his head on his propped up palm, his other hand fiddling with the opal pendant between the valley of your breasts. “Yep. I love you even though you lied to me.”

You blinked at him in shock. “Lied to you?” you repeated harshly. “When the hell did I lie to you?”

“So I’m in the garage working on your rickety Nissan and I’ve got the stereo on. A Lesson in Violence is playing and I’m certain I’m in a dream because goddamn it you keep surprising me. And then, all of a sudden, I hear this opening riff to a fucking Ratt song!” he scoffed. “The woman who has claimed for years that she hates hair metal has Lay It Down on a mixtape. A mixtape with Exodus on it no less! Total treachery.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to bite back the smile of being called out. “It’s one song, Eddie. And it’s a song that makes me think of you! It’s not like I’m gonna go out and buy a copy of Out of the Cellar.”

Eddie deadpanned. “I’m disappointed you can even name an album of theirs.”

“How do you know I was right unless you know it, too?” you challenged with a smirk.

Eddie dodged the question. “Want me to ask Gareth if you can borrow Pyromania? I’m sure he’d lend it to you if you asked real nice.”

“You’re the one that was learning Def Leopard songs, not me,” you teased. “I like one Ratt song! I don’t tease you for liking Woody Guthrie or Hank Williams, good lord.”

“Hey, you hush,” he replied, flicking your sternum. “I never said I didn’t like country. I’ll own my obscure tastes instead of hiding them like some dirty secret. Besides, do you think Wayne owned any other 8 tracks besides Waylon—“

Eddie’s train of thought was cut off by a loud bang that sounded way too close to the house for comfort. He looked at you with a furrowed brow, silently asking if it was his imagination or if you heard it too. You both remained silent, staring at each other for reassurance as your ears strained to hear for any more noise. Sure enough, you heard a muffled clang and felt the trailer rattle.

“Someone’s in the house.”

————————————————————

@loveshotzz @b-irock @superblysubpar @sweetsweetjellybean @beep-beep-sherlock @trashmouth-richie @ghost-proofbaby @hellkaisersangel @hauntingbastille @hellfiredarling @idkidknemore @sidthedollface2 @manda-panda-monium @tlclick73 @bebe0701 @livasaurasrex @2clones-1kamino @squidscottjeans @audhd-dragonaut @angelina16torres-blog @thesundrop @callofcunthulu @jo-harrington @churchmuffins @chickpeadumpsterfire @a-time-for-wolvess @katanaflower @chickennug90 @lesservillain @letmeadoreyoux @theanxietyqueen17 @young-anxiety @brittanyyydamnit @screaming-blue-bagel @texasblues @trixyvixx @alyisdead @whenshelanded @munsonzzgf @eddiesbabe95 @big-ope-vibes @mrsdollardog @awkotaco24 @eris-rose-86 @figmentofquinn @lem0nb0ii @whoahoney @thruheavenandhighwater

This has been a long time coming but I’ve been wanting to do some character study/cheat sheets for some time now!

Up first is Steve! He’s a little harder bc his features are so prominent that if you don’t draw them right, it doesn’t really look like him :,)

Dear Eddie

Eddie Munson x best friend reader

Summary: a summer fling between best friends ends in heartbreak

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, implied sexual content, secret pregnancy, birth, post-partum depression, leaving a baby on someone's doorstep, work accidents (Wayne getting stitches)

Part one | part two

Word count: 6.8k

He hasn’t had a lot of visitors at his new place… not since the ground was patched up and the insurance sent him a new trailer but it wasn’t the same. His boy wasn’t with him anymore, the place was bigger, there was room for him too, but he wasn’t there. 

Eddie’s been gone almost 4 months now… and it hurts just as bad every day. Especially today, he doesn’t want to get up, but there’s a knock at the door and he’d hate to ignore it if it was Dustin coming for a talk or a hug or just a place to escape to. 

When Wayne opens the trailer door, however, he finds a baby wrapped up in blankets, placed in a cardboard box, perfectly content to be there. 

He looks up, staring down the road for any glimpse of the person who left it there. He walks past the baby and runs towards the end of his driveway, noticing a girl walking as fast as she can out of the trailer park. 

“Hey!!” He calls after her but she doesn’t respond, she starts to run instead but she can’t, not well. 

He can tell she’s hurt, something’s wrong with her… she’s sobbing as she stumbles and hits the gravel, hard. Wayne is quickly at her side, “hey, are you alright?”

“I’m sorry,” she pushes him away, “I can’t keep him.” She tries to stand up again, limbs weak and face stained with tears, “I have to go.” 

“No, please stay, talk to me?” He begs. “Who’s baby is that? Why did you leave him with me?” 

“Ed— Eddie,” she chokes on her sobs and accepts Wayne's support. She buries her face in his shirt and holds him tight. “I can’t do it without him. I can’t raise his son alone…” 

“Oh, god,” he holds her close, rubbing her back as he realizes who she is. “You’re Y/N, aren’t you?” 

She nods, he feels it, but she doesn’t pull away. “I had to hear about it on the fucking news… I was so pregnant and then he was gone…” 

“Come live with me,” Wayne offers. “I have another room with all his things in it, we can get a crib, I’ll help, but this baby needs his mom. Eddie would want his son to have a mother.” 

“I know,” she pulls away and wipes her tears. “I’m sorry… I just didn’t know what to do?” 

“No one ever knows,” he tries not to sob. “I’ve been so lost without him… but he’d want us to raise his boy, I know that.” 

“He didn’t even know I was pregnant… he hadn’t been up to see me in forever and I couldn’t tell him over the phone cause I knew he’d just drop out and run to me but I— I was going to come and see him for spring break, I had a whole plan on how I was going to tell him and then it was too late.” 

He rubs her back gently, “I know, it’s tough. I went to work one day and came home to a dead girl and no Eddie.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, either. He loved you a lot,” she reminds him. Knowing all too well the relationship between Eddie and his uncle and just how pure and precious it was. 

“Let's go back to the trailer, I wanna meet this little guy,” he turns back to the house, baby still in a box on his doorstep, not crying, just chilling there on the front step. “What’s his name?” 

“James, like the lead singer of Metallica… I thought he’d like it if he was here,” she admits, so caught up on the fact he’s gone. She really thinks he’s dead and not just missing. 

“He’s not dead,” Wayne whispers. “He’s just not here.” 

“I know but the police technically consider him dead and they’re not even looking anymore—

“Because the government told ‘em to stop,” he keeps his voice low. “I’ll tell you more inside,” he doesn’t want to explain in the open, the fewer people that know his business the better. 

“Wha—“ she just follows him quicker, up to the trailer where he picks up the box and brings both her and James into the main room. “Where is he?” 

Wayne sighs as he sets the box down on the coffee table and takes the little guy out. He’s big, for a tiny baby he’s very long and chunky and healthy from what he can see. Under his little hat he has the cutest dusting of dark curly hair, he can’t be more than 4 months old… she must’ve had him whence found out. 

“Um… can I ask you some more things before I tell you the truth?” 

She nods, “of course… I wrote you a letter, it’s in the box,” she takes James from him and holds him close, kissing his little head as she snuggles him close. “I didn’t want to abandon him… I just heard about the settlement and I know how much Eddie loved you like a dad and I knew he’d be safe with you and I— I—

“You were struggling,” he gets it, taking the note from the box and skimming through everything she wanted to say to him. “I don’t blame you…”

“I don’t have any of my things here, I was just going to catch the bus back but if you were serious?” 

“We’ll get your things later,” he agrees with a smile. “There’s a lot I can’t tell you, but I guess it starts during the earthquake… something big happened, something I don’t understand, all I know is he fell through the cracks in the earth and got hurt and he was exposed to something and they’ve got him quarantined somewhere I can’t go,” his voice gets louder the more he explains, angrier now than when the men in black first came to tell him about it all. 

Her eyes grow impossibly large, and she has to sit so she doesn’t drop the baby as she stares off into space, “how?” 

“I don’t know… they don’t tell me nothin’ but Eddie’s friends said he got hurt trying to save the world, so I know it’s not for nothing,” he simplifies it, it’s what he’s said to himself a million times to make it seem okay. 

Her shoulders drop as she melts into the couch, it’s all too much to even fathom. “He didn’t die?” 

“He didn’t die.”

—

When she found out she was pregnant, Eddie was just an old friend who visited her every few months. Last month he visited to play a show with his band, it was the first time he got a real standing ovation, the first time he looked at her like more than a friend from kindergarten… the first time he slipped into her bed and into her and then seemingly, out of her life. 

She saw him twice after getting pregnant, both times she could hide it well, unable to tell him the truth in fear their friendship would end in burning flames. He stopped coming around after the first trimester when school started again and he was trying to graduate.

That’s when the first letter came. 

Dear Y/N,

School sucks, I miss you, I wish I could come up and see you again soon but I promised Wayne this is the last year I’m freeloading on him. 

I need to graduate, and honestly think if I came to visit you I wouldn’t be doing a lot of homework. Not since the last few times I’ve been to see you have all ended up the same way… It’s hard to stay away from you, but if I came back I don’t know if I’d be able to leave you again? I hope you truly know how much you mean to me and how much I wish I could say this in person without chickening out… But, I love you. 

I love you a lot, I can’t wait to see you again soon. Maybe Thanksgiving or Christmas? Let me know what you can do, maybe you could even come here? I don’t know. I just know I miss you.  

Love from Eddie <3

She called him that night, and they talked for hours about feelings and truths they never shared with each other… all except the pregnancy. She brought that up slowly but he never caught on. 

He wanted kids one day, she knew that from the way he talked about Dustin, Lucas and Mike, he would be a good dad if he had kids… he knew she wanted to be a mom and she also knew his relationship with his own mother and how unfortunately short it was cut. They both wanted a family, and she listened to him talk about his childhood and how great Wayne was, how much he changed his mind on what a dad truly is… they both had shit dads and yet they turned out pretty okay. 

He couldn’t see her for thanksgiving, her parents were mad that he got her pregnant and even more angry that she didn’t tell him yet while at the same time they were grateful. They wanted her to never tell him, put the baby up for adoption in the spring at the end of her semester of college and go back to school as if nothing happened in the fall. But she didn’t want to do that. She wanted this baby, she wanted a family with Eddie, she was going to tell him at Christmas and they gave her an ultimatum. 

She was cut off the moment she left their house after that awful dinner. 

Her current semester was already paid for which gave her until January to get her act together and find a new place when the school kicked her out for not paying the winter semester fees. So she got a job, she made friends, and she went to single mom support groups that introduced her to the good food banks and how to get good coupons for all the baby things she’d need. She was even gifted some hand-me-down items. 

Eddie still called her every day and wrote her the occasional letter. He was super excited to come to visit for Christmas, she was going to be so pregnant she wouldn’t have to say much when he saw her, she just hoped it all went well.

When he didn’t show up for Christmas her heart broke a bit, she called the trailer 3 times and no one picked up, she called the hospital to make sure there wasn’t an accident that he was brought in for… nothing. She sat in her bed and worried with her hand on her stomach and a tiny roast chicken for two cooking in her oven, alone on Christmas. 

He called a day later, apologizing profusely but there was an accident at the lab, he spent the night beside Wayne in the hospital, holding his hand as he slept. It was a head injury, they had to cut his hair and sew his head back up, he was going to be out of work for a few weeks, and Eddie couldn’t leave him to take care of himself. 

She understood perfectly. It just sucked that another thing got in the way of her telling him the truth. 

She got a new apartment at the start of January, it was a low-rent place meant for moms and their kids… the distant sounds of babies crying made a very unpleasant ambiance but at least it was preparing her for what was to come. Alone or not, she was going to raise this baby to the best of her ability. She took a lamas class, she practiced her breathing, she had checkups every few weeks at planned parenthood and they were going to help her with her birth plan and apply for social assistance to help while she’s recovering and watching the baby. They assigned her a social worker, and she had free therapy, it was all really helpful while she went through it alone. 

On Valentines Day she came home to a bouquet of blue and yellow flowers sitting on her doorstep with a sweet note.

“I still love you so much, can we spend spring break together?” 

Spring break… it seemed so far away at the time and then it showed up in the blink of an eye. She turned on the TV that morning, struggling to angle the antenna to pick up any new channels to pass the time while she packed up to see the love of her life, the father of her child, the only person she’s thought about for the last 8 months… and longer if she really admitted that to herself. 

“Local girl's body was found in the Forest Hills Trailer park this morning, there’s no word on her identity or who the killer is. All we do know is foul play was involved and locals should be vigilant,” the reporter says, standing right in front of Eddie’s trailer. She’d know it anywhere. 

She called him, she called every Gareth Emmerson from the phonebook to find him, she even called Wayne’s work to see if she could reach him at all… nothing.

The TV is her only way of getting any information. Another boy died the following morning, back to back 8 am news reports suggested that Eddie was the one who did it, and if she knew his town, they were probably all hunting him by now… every fibre of her being wished he ran to her? If he was okay... if he was able to run… she wanted to help him and keep him safe and she knew he didn’t do it. There was no fucking way he did it! 

He was the sweet little boy who kissed her boo-boo’s better on the playground after Dean Barker pushed her down. He was the adorable teenager who bought her pads when they were hanging out and she randomly got her period. He was the gentile and considerate man who took in lost sheep without even thinking twice… he’s not a murderer. 

The earthquake rocked Hawkins the same day she was supposed to take the bus to go and see him. The helicopter footage showed the whole town in absolute disarray, the whole trailer park was practically sucked underground, the town hall was on fire, over 25 people died and then the worst fucking sentence to ever be spoken on television was said. 

“Edward Munson, the cult leader many accused of the horrific killings that happened here in Hawkins earlier this week is presumed dead, no one has seen him and with the growing death toll, local police don’t expect to. Back to you Janice.” 

“What?!” She throws the remote at the TV, “FUCK JANICE?!” She breaks down, sobbing, knowing she’ll never see him again and not a single soul gave a fuck. 

She spends almost a full 24 hours sobbing on the couch, holding her stomach for support, the baby inside her being the only piece of Eddie she had left. 

When her water breaks early, the doctors tell her it’s the stress she’s under, knowing something is wrong with her by the way she wouldn’t stop crying. Most women cried, it was completely normal, however, she was hysteric. She couldn’t even explain why, she ended up writing it down for one of the nurses. 

My boyfriend died.  

Yesterday.

She walked into the hospital alone. 

She wasn’t alone for long. 

She thought a lot about names, she considered everything from family names, both hers and his, to the names of things that mean a lot to them, songs, people, friends, and colours, she thought over everything. And yet the one name she keeps coming back to is Eddie’s middle name.

James.

Also, the lead singer of Metallica’s name, something Eddie found so cool that he shared with his favourite person, his idol… and now his son shared it with them both. 

She walked into the hospital alone. But she wasn’t alone for long, James Edward Munson, born March 29th, 1986, was a perfect little mirror of the boy she loved her whole life… and she was going to dedicate the rest of it loving their son. 

There are a few bumps in the road. Making money and watching a baby and trying to stay sane while working through grief is all really hard. So hard that she hops on the bus with James when he’s a little under 4 months old and almost leaves him with Eddie’s uncle… she couldn’t do it anymore, it was a lapse f judgement, it was her best option at the time, a silent cry for help that was answered in the best way possible. 

She moved in with Wayne full time in July ’86, she was able to stay home while he worked, she didn’t go many places except the grocery store, no one knew who she was or that Eddie was her baby’s father, she was a recluse in a town she never wanted to live. She saw him in everything, mostly in the kids wearing hellfire shirts walking home from school, and especially in their own son… she misses him so much it starts to kill her slowly and Wayne knows it. 

“You should introduce him to the boys,” Wayne suggests one morning while preparing James’s bottle, both of them sleepy wandering around the kitchen as James lightly whines in the other room, waiting for his breakfast. 

“Like Eddie’s friends?” 

“Yeah,” he gives her a sweet smile, holding a bottle in a boiling pot of water to heat up the cold breastmilk she stores in his fridge. “Dustin, Gareth, Jeff… they’d want to meet Eddie’s little boy… James needs some uncles.”

“Okay,” she takes a deep breath and crosses her arms, leaning against the counter as she waits for the bottle. “Do you think they know about me?” 

Wayne laughs, “yeah… how do you think I knew about what you two were?” 

“What were we?” She’s confused by that. “‘Cause to me, I was his friend and we slept together after high emotional nights and—

“You took his virginity,” Wayne cuts her off. 

“No, he took mine… he said he already—? What?”

“Oh, no,” Wayne keeps giggling, taking the bottle out of the water and testing the milk on his wrist. “He just didn’t wanna feel like a loser for not having sex until he was nearly 20, but yeah… you meant a lot to him and he loved you so much he knew if he went up to Indianapolis he’d never come 

“So thats why he got so weird,” she mumbles, taking the bottle and heading off to James’s room with Wayne in tow. “He sent me love letters and flowers and things…” 

“Sounds like him,” Wayne chuckles. 

“Morning, cutie,” she changes her tone when she sees James, picking him up from his crib and taking him to the rocking chair. His 7-month-old body barely fits comfortably in her arms anymore, he’s getting so big. He takes his bottle, he holds it himself and looks up at her with his big chocolate brown wonders. She runs her fingers through his little curls, he’s so much like his dad it hurt sometimes. “I love how much of him is in James…” 

“I know,” Wayne takes a knee beside her, looking at James just the same. “I hope he gets to meet his dad soon. I want him home.” 

“Me too…” 

—

With James held against her with one arm and his diaper bag slung over the other, she walks into the school after the bell rings and follows the instructions from the receptionist. Down the hall, past the washrooms and to the left there was a drama room, that’s normally where Dustin Henderson spent his time. She finds it easily, there’s a “game in session” notice on the door but she knows there hasn’t been enough time since the last bell for them to be too busy, so she walks in anyway. 

“Hello…?” She calls out. 

“Hey?” A young boy stands from the table to greet her. “Are you lost?” 

“Um, no, this is hellfire, right?” 

“It is…” another curly-headed boy comes up behind her, trying to get into the room. “What can we help you with?” 

“I’m Y/N… Eddie’s girlfriend?” She keeps her voice low, “or I was trying to be before all the shit went down here…” 

“The Y/N?” The kid behind her asks. 

“Yeah, that one,” she manages to laugh, “this is James, if you couldn’t put it together, Eddie is his daddy,” she bounces the baby a bit, making him smile as he grips onto her shirt and leans into her shoulder with a drooly smile. 

“I’m Lucas, that’s Dustin,” the first boy explains for them both, shocked but not speechless like Dustin. 

“Wayne mentioned how James needs some uncles, so I thought I’d come to meet you guys?” She makes sure it’s okay, “do Gareth and Jeff still go here?” 

“Yeah,” Dustin finally answers, leading her over to the table, right to Eddie’s old thrown. “Let’s get you a seat, he looks heavy… and he’s the rightful heir so…”  

“Prince James,” she teases her little guy, setting her bag down on the floor as more boys start to pour in. 

“Gareth, Jeff, this is Y/N and James… Eddie’s family,” Dustin explains, his voice low and sad, wishing more than anything he could tell them all the truth about where their friend was. 

“no way!” The boys light up and rush to the table. “He said you two slept together but—

“He didn’t know,” she shakes her head, cutting them off. “I never had a chance to tell him, I wanted to, believe me,” she forewarns. “But uh, yeah, this is little James. James, say hi to daddy’s friends.” 

The little boy waves slightly, shying away into his mom's side. “He’s slowly becoming more of a people person,” she laughs, holding him tightly and kissing his curly mop.

“How old is he?” 

“8 months,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, they knew how to do the math, they would all know. 

“You had him when he died?” Gareth is the first to pick it up. “You knew all that time and never told him?” 

She shakes her head, “no, I couldn’t. It’s not something you say over the phone to someone trying to graduate high school, now is it? If I told him he would’ve dropped everything to run to me, the band, this club, all of you, I wanted you to have him as long as possible.”

“Yeah, none of us got enough time with him,” Jeff sympathizes, placing a hand on Gareth’s arm. “But you’re right, Eddie would’ve done everything for you. What do you need? We’ll be here for you both now instead.” 

“Thank you,” she gives them a genuine, toothy, smile. “I’m living with Wayne, we’re still in the trailer park, I just wanted you in James’ life, I wanted him to have at least 1 cool uncle like how Eddie had Wayne… we’ve moved onto calling him gramps by the way.” 

“And he doesn’t hate it?” Dustin asks, shocked. “I’ve tried calling him pops and he thought it was weird.” 

“It is,” Lucas shoves him. 

“he loves it, now at least,” she can’t help but laugh. “James is still trying to say grandpa… can you say, papa?” He shakes his head and buries it back into her shirt. “I guess that’s a no.” 

“He’s adorable,” Gareth gets a little closer, squatting beside her so he can seem less tall and scary to the little baby. “Hi, James. My name is Gareth, your daddy used to call me Gare… I wouldn’t mind you calling me uncle Gare?” 

“He called you Gare-bear,” Jeff corrects, “call him uncle Gare-bear, please?” 

“he doesn’t really talk yet,” she laughs, feeling more at home than she has in a long time. Like Eddie was there with them, watching and smiling too… the room carried so much of his essence that it was hard not to feel him. 

God, she missed him. 

—

May 1988

“What do you mean she doesn’t live here?” 

“I’m sorry, Sir, Miss Y/L/N moved out almost 2 years ago now… I might still have her forwarding address?” 

“Please?” Eddie begged, following Y/N’s old landlord into the building and waiting for her at the threshold of her office, not wanting to intrude. 

“Her last address I was given is Trailer 13, Forest Hills Trailer park, Hawkins Indiana,” she hands him a copy of her address on paper and a small smile. “Something about moving in with her son's grandpa… I don’t know.” 

He tries to stay calm, feeling so fucking confused and out of the loop because who knocked her up and why was she living in his uncle's trailer park? He just takes it and thanks her, heading back out to the van the government supplied him with as an apology for keeping him locked up for 2 years to run tests on him… he was telling them the whole time that he’s healthy and fine and just wanted to go home, but they didn’t listen. The last thing they wanted was to send another monster back to Hawkins. 

With a haircut and lighter clothes, he’s been cleared of all charges and it's been suggested that he not go back to Hawkins for his own safety, but now he had no choice. 

He drives the 2-hour trip in under 1, speeding until he hits the town he spent most of his life in and abiding by the speed limits. He travels down newly paved roads, over patches in the ground he was once deep under and towards where his heart ran off to in the midst of the madness. 

He pulls up to a brand new trailer, nowhere can he see that ugly blue trailer he watched fade over the years under the sun. Behind a new truck, he parks his van and gets out, there are kids' toys all over the yard, evidence that she did have a kid, the windows are blocked by shutters and the door doesn’t have a screen he can spy through either. 

But he knocks anyway.

“Coming!!” He hears Wayne's voice and his heart stops.

The door swings open, and he’s holding a curly-headed little boy with a wide smile that drops the longer Wayne stares into his eyes, “Eddie?” 

“Hi,” he whispers, eyes welling with tears. “Where is she?” 

“Work, what are you doing here?” He changes the topic right away. “I thought you weren’t allowed to come home?” 

“They declared me not a risk to the general public,” he explains. “I would’ve called but I went to Indianapolis first to talk to Y/N cause I missed our last meet-up… turns out I missed a lot?” 

“Come in,” Wayne holds the door open for him, letting him into the trailer, it's big and clean and nice… “sorry for the mess.” 

“What mess?” He manages to laugh. “It’s nicer than when I was a kid… speaking of?” He points to the toddler in Wayne's arms, snuggled into his shoulder with his thumb in his mouth, scared of visitors as it would seem. 

“This is James,” he smiles, “James this is your daddy… ‘member the photos mommy shows you at bedtime? He just has short hair… he’s not scary, see?” Wayne walks over to him and sets his hand on his shoulder, shaking him as he presses his lips together and tries not to cry. 

The last thing they needed was to scare James. 

“Papa?” James whispers to Wayne, his grandpa. “Daddy?” He turns to Eddie that time, reaching out for him. 

“Yeah,” Wayne helps his little brain understand. “I’m papa, he’s daddy,” explaining further as he hands him over.

Eddie takes him in his arms, looking into his brown eyes and noticing everything about him that he got from himself and Y/N. “Hi, buddy?” He tries not to cry and scare him at all. “yeah… I’m your daddy.” 

James rests his head on eddies shoulder, cuddling into him, “you just caught his nap time,” Wayne explains. “You want to read him to sleep? Your old books are all still here.” 

“yeah... I just want to sit with him?” He tears up a bit, holding James as close as possible while being extra delicate with the toddler. “I have so many questions?” 

“Y/N gets home at 4,” he smiles. “She’ll tell you everything… I think she’s written you a letter every day since she move here since she found out you lived.” 

“Oh god,” he whispers, “she thought I died?” 

“for 4 months…” 

He closes his eyes and tries to stop himself from crying, he cradles the back of his son's head and presses his cheek to the soft baby curls on the top of his head. He smells like a baby, he’s soft and sweet and his and hers… “I love you so much,” he whispers. “I wish I came home sooner.” 

Wayne wraps his arms around the two of them, joining the hug because he just couldn’t take it anymore. He missed his boy so bad. “I love you.” 

“I’m not supposed to stay in Hawkins…” 

“So we move,” he replies in no time. “As long as we’re a family, we can be a family anywhere.” 

“Daddy?” James asks again, squished between the two men. “Ba?” 

“Oh,” Wayne pulls back, “he wants his bottle and to go to sleep… he’s big about schedules,” he teases with a laugh as he heads to the kitchenette. 

Eddie trades arms, holding the toddler on the other side and taking a moment to look at him with a sweet smile, “what books do you like, buddy?” 

“Trucks,” his eyes light right up, even with the sleepy sand gathering around his lashes. 

“he’s obsessed with anything with wheels, isn’t that right, buddy?” Wayne explains as he comes back with a bottle. “Let's go to his room,” he nods down the hall, making Eddie follow him. 

His room is cute, not too big, not too small, full of photos of him when he was even tinier than this with Wayne and his band and his friends, he has a hellfire poster, he has trucks everywhere and eddies old rocking chair in the corner. “You can sit there and read to him and then carefully put him in the bed when he’s asleep… I’ll give you your time with him—

“What?” Eddie panics. “I can’t be alone with a baby?” 

“He’s your baby, you’ll do fine,” he waves it off, points at the chair and then heads out, closing the door behind himself. 

The rooms dark, but the chair is in front of the window so some light still shines through the blinds and onto the pages he holds in his free hand. James snuggles into him, holding his bottle in his arms and listening contently to every word. He nods quickly, his eyelids flicker shut and flashback open as he fights it. Still suckling on his bottle, he fights it for at least 10 minutes before the bottle drops from his lips and barely stays in his grasp. Eddie stops reading then. He puts the book and the bottle on the table beside the chair and just looks at his son. 

His son.

He had curly hair and a round button nose. He had chubby cheeks like Y/N did when they were little, he’s tall like Eddie’s side of the family, he’s smart like hers… he’s everything. 

If he does the math right in his head she had him around the time he went missing, which meant one of those first and only 3 times they had sex got her pregnant and she never told him… she tried, he supposes that’s what all the family and baby talk came from. She asked about the future too much for someone simply curious. 

He places James gently in his crib and watches for a moment to insure he doesn’t wake up, when the coast is clear, he tip-toes out of the room and quietly twists the door handle as he shuts the door for ultimate quiet… the deep breath he lets out when he’s successful is unlike any other. 

Wayne’s in the living room watching tv with a plate that once held a sandwich, “want some lunch?” 

“I’m good,” he passes and takes a seat beside him, snuggling into his uncle's shoulder he finally lets himself cry. “No, I’m not…”

“Oh, my boy, I’m so sorry,” he wraps him up and lets him cry. He can’t even imagine what they did to him for two years, 2 months and 6 days. It was far too long for him to be quarantined with no contact with the ones he loves. It was so unfair. “When you can, I want to know anything and everything… you can share it with me, you don’t have to carry this all alone.” 

“She had my baby,” he whispers, unable to pull back, still broken inside and numb everywhere else. “All alone…” 

“I’ve been here. She showed up 4 months after, we’ve been together ever since,” he explains. “Not like together, but she lives with me, I love her like family. She is family.” 

“What about hers?” 

“They cut her off,” he sighs. “Cunts, the whole lot. You should hear some of the shit they said, and how rude they were when she tried to invite them to Christmas 2 years ago… she tried to have them meet their grandson and they didn’t care.” 

“They always sucked,” he finally pulls away and wipes his tears. “I’m glad she had you. You’re the best dad a kid could have.” 

“Grandpa,” he corrects, “I love being a grandpa to that little boy, he’s such a gift.” 

“I want to know everything, how old is he? What’s his full name? What does he like? All of it.” 

“His full name is James Edward Munson, James for Metallica and Edward for you,” he explains as if he needs to. 

“Seriously?” He lights up, “that’s amazing.” 

“His birthday is March 29th, ’86,” he confirms Eddie’s suspicions. “She was going to tell you, at Christmas and then,” he points to his head scar. 

“She was so sad when I finally called her back,” he remembers like it was yesterday. 

“She’s not mad at you at all anymore, she wishes every day that you’ll come home, she’s going to pass out when she sees you,” he half kids. He doesn’t really know how she’ll react. “I think I should tell her first…” 

—

Works long, she hates it the whole way, all she wants is to get home to her baby for some snuggles and a nice night in after Wayne leaves for work. She clocks out at 4 on the dot and all but runs to her car, she couldn’t wait any longer to get home. 

Much to her surprise, Wayne is waiting outside. Which is weird seeing as he doesn’t smoke anymore… who was with James? She parks behind the strange van in her drive, thinking it’s Gareth’s, he was in the market for a new one… so she grabs her purse and gets out with a cautious look on her face. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Eddie’s home,” he breaks the ice with a fucking sledgehammer.  

“What?” She drops everything and covers her mouth in shock. 

“He’s inside, James met him, they’re in there together—

She breaks past him and runs inside, stopping dead in her tracks when she sees the 2 pairs of matching brown eyes turn to her with glee. “Mommy!” James stands from the carpet and runs to her. 

She scoops him up, “hi baby,” she tries to stay normal and calm, she kisses his cheeks and breathes in his baby scent after a long day apart. “Can you go outside with grandpa so mommy can talk to daddy?” 

“Why?” He asks one of his new favourite words. 

“Cause mommy needs to tell him some grown-up things, but it’ll be 5 minutes, I promise,” she hands him off to Wayne. “Then we’ll all go out for dinner, okay?” 

“Okay,” he trades off easily, heading outside and out of earshot. 

She lunges for Eddie, diving to the floor and wrapping her entire body around him. He holds her back just as tight, sobbing uncontrollably without any words to be said. There wasn’t much that could be said. She pulls back only enough to press their foreheads together as she holds his face in her hands and he holds her right back. They stare into each other's eyes, sharing how much they miss and love each other with just one glance. 

“I’m home,” he assures her. 

“Good,” she brushes her nose against his. “It’s about time we were a full family.” 

He kisses her for the first time in forever, something he’s thought about day in, and day out throughout his quarantine. He can’t stop kissing her either, he kisses her whole face, making her laugh instead of cry but his kisses still taste like salt from the tears already shed. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” she takes some of the burdens off his shoulders. “But that little boy out there has no idea anything happened, he doesn’t know this is weird and not normal… so it’s okay.” 

“you think?” 

She nods, “he’s had the best life so far, he’s surrounded by love. I didn’t know you had so many friends until I moved here.”

“Who?” 

“Well the guys, obviously, but also all your friends from the end of the world,” she knows more than he expected. Dustin must’ve spilled the beans. “Uncle Steve really likes to buy our son expensive shirts, Aunt Robin and Nancy are the best babysitters ever… Dustin loves him like a brother, Mike and Lucas and Erika are always coming over to see him too… our son is very loved.” 

“Our son,” he repeats, still astounded by it. “I can’t believe I have a son and wasn’t there for it…” 

“I made you something,” she struggles out of his grasp and to her feet, dragging him up as well and towards her room in the back.

Under her bed, she has a shoe box full of things. “This is our memory box… we’ll it was before I moved here. I started putting all of my memories with James in here too when I learned you could come home one day…” 

He sits on the bed beside her, watching her sort everything into what she wanted to show him the most. “I have the letters you sent me, the dried flowers from valentines day, my pregnancy tests, his sonogram,” she hands them to him so he can look at their baby’s first photo. 

And then his second, she hands him a polaroid. “The nurses took this of us.” 

“You looked so cute pregnant,” he can’t believe it, she was swollen and happy and adorable with their son resting on her chest. 

“And then this is his umbilical cord stump,” she holds up a plastic bag with a dried-up brown thing in it. 

“Ew?” 

“Not ew!” She can’t help but laugh at his disgust. “Lots of moms keep them, it’s the last part of us being together… and when I become the tooth fairy I’ll probably keep them too.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head with love, “of course.” 

“And…” she gets up from the bed and opens her bedside table to take out two notebooks. “I wrote you some letters.” 

“Letters?” 

She nods, opening it up to page one, “dear Eddie, today our son is 5 months old and I realized you’ll be back and wondering all about him and these milestones you missed. So here are some things to know, he was born in the middle of the night and now it’s his favourite time of the day…” 

“It’s all like that?” His eyes light up. 

She nods, “and there are some parts from me… about the days it was hard to not be with you.”

He takes the books from her and flips through the pages, seeing some had polaroids taped to them. Photos of their son on the carpet with numbers, each one he gets bigger. 6 months, 7 months, 8 months, he grew a personality with each one too. Smiling, rolling, kicking, he was never in the same position, he was such a cutie, his heart swelled in his chest. 

“I thought you’d like them,” she notices his tears, sitting beside him and wiping his cheek for him so it didn’t get on the pages. “I knew you’d be home.” 

“And I’m never leaving. Either of you.” 

Taglist

@fightingdragonswithwho @mrs-dr-reid @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @stevesmunsons @blairscott @sweetyyhippyy @wroteclassicaly @reidsbookclub

Can't wait for more!

Deadly Reunion | Chapter 4  

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues

word count: 2.5k+

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Eddie’s arms tightened around you as he held you close against his frame. As your arms did the same, you could feel him shaking within your arms. You weren’t sure if it was the shock or excitement of him seeing you. But you knew that your mind and body couldn’t catch up with what was happening. After the long, tiring, and deadly journey to get back to Hawkins – you were finally back with him. The last piece of your old life that seemed to be left after all these years.

After a few moments, Eddie pulled back and grasped each side of your face. The rough calloused feel of his palms against your sun-kissed skin was oddly comforting. Your eyes closed for a few seconds, causing stray tears to cascade down your cheeks before they opened again. Staring intensely into his large doe eyes.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe it,” Eddie spoke, even with the bandana tied across his face, it was obvious to see him smiling. Especially with his dark eyes sparkling with a life that had been missing for a while.

“Fuck!” a deep voice groaned from behind the both of you.

Turning slightly to look over your shoulder, you saw the man you’d knocked down before stumbling up from the ground along with the assistance of the other woman. His hand cupped over his face with it scrunched up in pain. You took a few steps back away, stepping away from Eddie, as the man came to his full height.

Though these people were obviously with Eddie it didn’t mean you trusted them. The man before you had long, dark brown curls that nearly fell along his shoulders with sun-kissed strands of blonde through them. He was almost as tall as Eddie, possibly only a couple inches shoulder. But larger when it came to his body, his shoulder spanning wider and his arms appearing bigger.

“Did you really have to fuckin’ hit me in the nose?” He spoke with another groan, pulling his hand away from his face. It took a few seconds to realize that it was none other than Steve Harrington. Your eyes widened to see another familiar face.

“Sorry, didn’t exactly know who you were,” You spoke with defensiveness to your tone. Eyes glared slightly as you looked back toward the former King of Hawkins.

“Can’t blame the girl for defending herself, dingus,” The woman beside him spoke, rolling her eyes, before reaching up to pull down the cloth tied around the bottom of her face. Her hand reached out toward you quickly with a smile causing her blue eyes to sparkle with kindness, “Robin, Robin Buckley.”

Your guard slowed slightly as your attention moved away from Steve and toward Robin. You knew of her from high school but couldn’t exactly say that you knew her. She was from the band, and in your Science fifth period. You repeated your name to her as you firmly shook her hand.

“As much as this reunion is nice, we should be heading back to camp. The night is coming,” Nancy spoke, apprehensively looking toward you. “Hopper is going to be worried if we’re not back in time.”

You perked up slightly to the sound of a familiar, “The Chief?”

Eddie nodded his head, stepping up toward you again, hating that there was a small distance between you. He felt like he was in a vivid dream and at any moment you would be retaken from him.

“We have a camp about four miles from here,” Eddie spoke.

“Eddie,” Nancy scolded glaring toward him with wide eyes. She looked toward him for a long moment like they were silently communicating with each other. She gave her head a slight shake, it was subtle, but you didn’t miss it.

“You’re not thinking I’m leaving her out here do you?” Eddie spoke with a harshness to her voice.

“We don’t know if she’s got another camp, let’s not assume,” Nancy spoke with a tight voice. Steve and Robin standing on the sidelines of the conversation.

“I don’t” You answered quickly. Your eyes move from Eddie to Nancy. You didn’t miss the sadness that settled into Eddie’s eyes as he looked down at you. “I-I’m alone.”

“For how long?” Robin asked.

“A long time,” You spoke, body stiffening and signaling that was all the information that you were willing to give. Robin nodded her head, silently understanding.

“She’s coming with us,” Eddie emphasized again.

“She could be bitten or scratched.” Steve said, “We don’t know what we could bring back to Camp, Munson.”

“I’m not bit, and I’m not scratched.” You whispered with a shake of your head, already feeling a heavy sense of unwelcome.

That small bit of hope you’d felt before was quickly dwindling.

“Doesn’t matter. We don’t know you.” Steve spoke stepping toward you, Eddie quickly moving between you two. “We have a camp that has already been through enough, we don’t need a trespasser messing that up.”

“Steve,” Robin spoke firmly, moving toward him and standing beside Eddie. “Eddie knows her, and are you honestly going to leave someone out here alone? We both know you’d feel guilt the moment you walked away.”

Steve seemed to be having an internal fight with himself before he sighed deeply and shook his head. “Fine. But if Hopper says she’s out, you know you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

He was speaking to Eddie.

Eddie nodded his head before turning to look down at you, “Are you wanting to come back with us?”

You looked at him for a long moment, before answering, “I just traveled halfway across the country to find you, I’m not exactly letting you out of my sight any time soon.”

Eddie chuckled slightly before nodding his head and placing a hand gently on your shoulder. The two of you followed along behind the others heading north through the woods. With each step, your stomach fluttered with nerves.

“So, where did you travel from?” Robin asked after a long tense moment of silence between all of you.

You hesitated for a moment, before speaking, “Tennessee,”

“You were there this entire time?” Eddie asked, his stomach dropping at the thought of you only being a few states away this whole time.

A better outcome than what he’d believed all these years. That you were dead.

“No. My mom and I were in the south mostly. She had family there and thought it would be safer when the outbreak happened. But…we never made it. Instead ended up with a few different groups…traveling through Georgie, Alabama…last place was Tennessee. She wanted to come back home.”

You felt a ball form at the back of your throat as the thoughts of your mother came back to your mind. Over the last few months, you hadn’t given yourself the proper time to grieve her. Instead, focus on getting back to Hawkins and surviving.

A tense silence fell over you all again, a deep frown settling on Eddie’s lips. He could tell from your body language that something was wrong. But would wait for a more private moment to ask.

“You traveled through all that and hadn’t become a Flayed,” Steve spoke, his tone indicating his disbelief.

“Obviously,” You snapped.

“I think you’re pretty badass to make it this far on your own.” Robin smiled “Might be a piece to the group that we need.”

The rest of the walk was in tense silence as you all wadded through the forest that surrounded Hawkins. You were confused about where they were leading you, no longer expertly familiar with the town you’d grown up in. But when you came across the reinforced fence and the building came into view. You knew exactly where you were.

“You turned the Lab into an encampment?” You asked.

Eddie reached to pull down his bandana, giving a clearer view of his face. Seeing the shadow of a beard growing along his jawline. The years that you two have been apart showing with how grown he looked. It was the boy you’d fallen in love with still; you could see that with the cheeky smile, he’d give you. But with a cringle around his eyes that seemed to be more defined as he neared his thirties.

“Little bit more than a camp,” Eddie smirked, guiding you along the fence till you all rounded toward the front.

You quickly noticed the stations and boardwalk that aligned the top of the reinforced wall. People with guns strapped to their bodies paced along the lengths, clearly on patrol. The wall made it hard for you to see beyond that, except for the top of the old Lab building peeking over the top. Robin and Steve waved to a few people up on the wall as you all neared the front of the gate.

You stopped, along with the others, the moment you came to the large double doors that led into the camp. Standing at the top of the wall was a man that didn’t seem familiar. But with the way she glared down at you, he made your stomach roll.

“Seems you brought home a straggler,” The man spoke, his voice deep and heavy.

“She’s an old friend,” Eddie spoke quickly, the cheekiness gone, instead replaced with seriousness. “She’s alone and needs shelter.”

The man chuckled with false humor, “Hopper isn’t gonna like this.”

“I think once he sees who it is, Hopper isn’t gonna give much of a fight.”

The man grumbled slightly before nodding his head toward someone you couldn’t see. Soon the gates began to move with a loud mechanical sound that vibrated harshly against your eardrums. You cringed slightly and only moved when you noticed Eddie do the same. When you walked through the gates of the wall, you gasped loudly at what was in front of you.

“Oh, fuck,” You gasped with widening eyes as the rebuilt town was in front of you. “Y-You live in an Establishment?”

Eddie looked down at you with eyebrows pulled in confusion, “A what?”

“An establishment? A rebuilt town?” You spoke, “Never heard of those.”

“Obviously not, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled.

“My friend Judy told me she’s seen one before. People that had basically rebuilt and started over,” You spoke with amazement, “I thought she was bullshitting me.”

“It took us a while to get like this,” Eddie spoke, guiding you through and toward the main building. “Took apart some of the old homes and brought the supplies here so we could rebuild. Also moved trailers from Forest Hills to make room for homes, medicine, food storage.”

As Eddie spoke you were able to quickly see what he spoke of. The front lawn of the old Lab was filled with trailers, small buildings, and some tented-off areas. From the distance, you could hear the soft sounds of farm animals.

“Is that a sheep I hear?”

“Yeah,” Eddie smiled “Got ’em from the farms that were left abandoned. We have our own food, though we still must go on patrols and outings for other supplies.”

“This is amazing,” You spoke in shock and amazement, your head swiveling so much you were sure your neck would hurt the next day.

Steve led you all up the path and through the double doors of the Lab. The shock didn’t stop as you’d only noticed then the lights that filled the front lobby and surrounding hallways.

They had electricity.

Eddie laughed and brought his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him more, as he pulled you further into the lobby. “We use this building for housing, more medicine. The Lab was running off its own power source so that’s how we’re able to have electricity. Something shady must’ve been going on here before the outbreak, but it’s become our home…thanks to Hopper.”

“He’s in charge I’m guessing?” You asked.

Eddie nodded his head, “Pull anyone in town that started from the outbreak in. Fortified and built it everything you see from the ground up.”

“Munson!” a voice shouted from the end of the hallway.

The both of you turned your heads toward the source, you jumping slightly from the sudden loud noise. The man walking toward you was a man you were all too familiar with. Another father figure that was in your life growing up. Age had caught up to him with the gray of his hair and beard. But you’d know Jim Hopper even with it being over six years since you’d seen him last. Hopper stopped short the moment he seemed to recognize who was standing beside Eddie. His face paled as if he’d seen a ghost standing in front of him. But it quickly went away before he stalked toward you both.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Hopper spoke as he neared closer.

“Chief,” You spoke with a nervous chuckle, “Long time no see.”

“I’ll fuckin’ say,” He nodded his head with a smile, “Where the hell have you been kid?”

“Long story,” You spoke, fighting the urge to rush toward him.

You might’ve known these people in the past, but times were different now.  

“Found her out on patrol,” Eddie spoke from behind you, “Didn’t think you’d give much of a fight if she were to find shelter here.”

Hopper shook his head with a heavy sigh, “No. Is it just you?”

You nodded your head, “Just me,”

Hopper frowned with a heavy sadness, seeming to understand what you weren’t saying at that moment.

“She’ll have to go through the quarantine process. We can’t blindly let someone into the Camp, no matter if we knew that from before or not.”

“Can’t we just examine and see that she’s not bit? She already swore she wasn’t.” Eddie spoke with a slight panic appearing in his tone.

You looked over your shoulder to Eddie with a slightly worried face.

“You know the rules, Eddie.” Hopper spoke, “We’ll take good care of her, you know this.”

Eddie hesitated for a moment, he was ready to argue more with the man standing in front of him. But he sighed heavily and nodded his head slightly, before stepping toward you more. He stood between you and Hopper, gently grabbing your hands, and bending down so his eyes were more level with yours.

“I’ve to say goodbye for now,” Eddie spoke softly, causing you to stiffen slightly. “But not for long.”

“Eddie,” You whimpered, a fear coming over you that you didn’t understand.

“Shh, shh…it’s ok. I promise. Do you trust me?” Eddie asked, his eyes looking deeply into yours.

You nodded your head before swallowing down the fear that was itching up your throat. Eddie hesitantly stepped away from you, suddenly bringing Hopper back into view along with two others.

Your stomach rolled again knowing why the fear was approaching. But though you were back in your hometown surrounded by a few you know. You were essentially in an unknown place, putting your trust in others. Something you hadn’t had to do for a while.

“Let’s go, kid,” Hopper spoke, before turning and leading you down the hall toward the unknown.

Hope you all enjoyed the next chapter. The reader is in the camp with Eddie, but there are still some things they will have to get over. Leave your thoughts!

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Everlong // part five 

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, mentions of depression & anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of ptsd, physical fight, the boys throw some punches…, slut shaming

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader // Steve Harrington x fem!reader 

Summary: One night is all it took for everything to fall apart. Almost everything. 

Author’s note: @prettyboyeddiemunson thank you for helping me with some of the ideas for this part! <3 also, happy valentine’s day!

series masterlist 

-

As Steve is walking back and forth in his driveway, his mind keeps replaying the scene that happened in front of him mere minutes ago. He is both angry and hurt, his heart is hammering against his ribcage, his throat feels tight, angry tears fall from his eyes. He can’t believe that you kissed Eddie.

You love him, right? You don’t love Eddie, he is sure of that. You and Eddie are nothing but friends– he tries to convince himself of that but the kiss looked nothing like a kiss that was shared between two friends who played a drunken game of truth or dare.

Continua a leggere

SUPERNOVA - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE)

word count: 3135 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: max's english tutor has a black eye and a shitty alibi. billy sees right through it.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending, mentions of abuse, injuries mentioned (black eye), reader is abused by her mother just like billy is by his father

A/N: thank you for 300 followers!!! have this as a little gift from me to you <3 basic biology part three is in the works, don't worry! i just wrote this in a fit of sleep deprived passion the other night after thinking about it for a week or so and i wanted to share :) i hope you enjoy! the ending of this is pretty straightforward and, though i plan to write more parts, this can be read on its own for now.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

There’s never a good reason for Max to stomp into Billy’s room. It’s always either her demanding a ride somewhere, asking for money, or shouting at him to turn his music down. This time, though, there’s no music playing, and it’s nearing 11:00 PM, so he’s not sure why she’d need money or a ride.

He glances up at her, really more of a glare, through his eyelashes, reclined against the wall as he lounges on his bed. He’s got a magazine in hand and the pages are as boring as the cover was, but he’d rather stare at faded jet ski advertisements than read the book he’s supposed to be working on for English.

She stops just inside the doorway, jacket on and shoes laced. He narrows his eyes at her, something of a question, and she sounds just as venomous as he looks when she replies.

“I need to borrow your window.” She mutters, piercing eyes set on him.

He’s heard her say a lot of weird things since they started living together. Mom, I can’t find my left rollerskate, Why is my bra in the freezer?, and We’re not going in the theater, we’re going to sit outside and talk, have previously topped the list but this is off the charts.

“Sure, Max,” He drawls, fingers tightening against the waxy magazine paper, “Just haul it back in here when you’re done, okay?”

“You know what I mean,” She huffs, already lunging for his bed. She practically topples him in her overzealous attempt to reach the window, and he shoots a hand out to steady himself as the mattress rocks. He has half a mind to kick her onto the floor but he watches her click a flashlight open from her jacket pocket, and stares with suspicious intrigue instead.

“Come on, come on,” She huffs, clicking the light on, off, on, off, “Where is she?”

“Who?” Billy leans forwards, peering out the window into the blackened neighborhood, “Jesus, Max, don’t go shining lights into people’s windows at night, they’ll think you’re some creep trying to watch them change.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you know that from experience,” She grumbles, shoving his hand away when he tries grabbing the light.

“I’m not kidding,” Billy seethes, muscled arm coming to combat her defenses, nearly shoving her off of the end of the bed, “What are you even trying to do, anyways?”

“I’m trying to talk to my tutor,” She snaps, landing a sharp slap to his thigh that reddens the skin there, “Butt out, butthead.”

“Assface,” Billy grumbles, rubbing at the tender spot on his leg with half a mind to whack her upside the head. She ignores him completely, desperately flicking the light at a ground floor window.

“Do you really need tutoring help now?” Billy groans, the incessant clicking preventing him from what was supposed to be his before-bed relaxation.

“She wasn’t at school today,” Max explains in a huff, “Or- like, she didn’t show up at my school. She called this morning to say she was sick, but she sounded fine, and I heard someone in the parking lot say that they saw her outside her house, just sitting there, like, really late last night.”

“So she was getting some fresh air,” Billy deadpans, “Now get out of my room.”

“Would it kill you to cooperate?” Max turns to him with such a judgemental stare that Billy’s surprised he doesn’t wither away right on the spot. Hell hath no fury like a teenage girl scorned, he thinks, annoyance bubbling in his chest.

“She’s obviously not coming,” Billy reasons, his patience wearing thin after almost two minutes of flashlight nonsense, “She’s probably sleeping. She’s got the flu or something, and you’re gonna wake her up and make her even more sick. Just leave her alone, and leave me alone.”

“I’m not asking you to be a part of this!” She gushes, jaw set in a hard frown and eyes rolling when he props his elbow up on the windowsill, cheek smushed into a bored expression against his palm.

“I just want to see if she’s okay, because she doesn’t normally get sick, and I haven’t seen her window open all day, and I really think that something might be wrong, so-”

After a staggering two minutes and forty-six seconds of morse code from hell, your curtains part. Max practically lights up at the sliver of light that appears between the drapes, but when your face pops between it, her breath hitches in a gasp.

Your eye is bruised. It’s swollen shut and purple, an ugly stain that blooms down your cheek, like a rose that sticks its thorns straight into Billy’s chest. His posture, previously saggy and bored, stiffens until he’s nearly pressed against the glass, brows furrowed in horror as his lips part ever-so-slightly.

“Oh my god,” Max breathes, and you regard them both with a weary gaze.

Max lifts the lower half of Billy’s window, slipping out the gap with such agility and speed that Billy doesn’t have a chance to try to stop her before she’s already outside. He rushes to follow her, cringing as his bare feet land in damp piles of leaves.

“What happened to you?” Max runs to your window, bracing her hands on the sill.

“Nothing,” You try to smile, and it pulls at the skin around your eye, finishing the expression off with a wince, “I just- it’s silly, okay? I slipped and fell on the ice out front and I hit the stair rail on the way down. I was too embarrassed to go to school, ‘cause I knew everyone would ask, so I just called out sick. I’m sorry, Max, I know today was our day, but I’ll do double time once this heals.”

The more you ramble, the quicker you spew your pre-determined speech, the more the thorns lodge themselves in Billy’s gut. It’s familiar behavior, having an outlandish excuse at your disposal, reciting it like poetry, blaming the bruises on a misstep down the stairs rather than a rage-fueled fist. He’s done the same to countless teachers, all staring down at him with a condescending sneer, assuming he’d instigated another fight.

Max might not be well acquainted with different types of bruises - and god he hopes she never has to be - but Billy certainly is. And your black eye is not from a stair railing, he knows that. It looks the same as his does whenever Neil decides he’s in a fighting mood, and it doesn’t seem like you have the frozen peas that Billy usually medicates his marks with.

“It’s okay!” Max promises, and thankfully she commands enough of your attention to where you don’t notice Billy’s grief-stricken stare, looking for all the world like he’d been punched in the gut.

‘It’s okay, we can just meet up some other time. Or- or I can come over to your house! So you don’t have to show your face anywhere. And I won’t tell,” She insists, hands dug snugly into the pockets of her jacket, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

So are you, Billy notes, just not to the people with the same ones.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You frown slightly, biting the inside of your cheek, “This really hurts, and it’s kind of giving me a headache, so… might be best to just meet when it’s healed.”

“That’s fine,” Max nods, reaching up and through the window to sling her arms around your neck in a rushed hug, “Just- call me when it’s better, okay? My teacher set us this new essay, and it’s got some stupidly complicated prompt, so I need your help figuring out-”

Billy watches as your head ticks up, eyes widening slightly as you tune into the sounds of your house. He knows the look all too well, you’ve heard someone coming.

“That’s great Max,” You stammer, reaching for the window pane to close it, "I’ve gotta go!”

“-how to… write it.” She finishes, face wrinkling in confusion when you slam the window shut, yanking the curtains closed, “Feel better…”

“Go,” Billy jumps to action, hearing a raised voice from within your room, not your own, “Max, move!”

He pushes her along the side of their house, shoving her around the back until they’re out of the line of sight from your window. He peers around the corner from behind an overgrown trellis, one that lets him see you without you seeing him. He waits with bated breath, ignoring Max’s indignant protests and slamming a hand over her mouth.

She licks his palm, but he manages to stay calm and keep it there. He will smear it on her cheek later, though.

Sure enough, Billy watches your curtains fly open. There’s a woman in the window now, and you’re standing behind her, expression unreadable. Then you speak, and Billy can’t hear it. Your voice must be soft, gentle, calming. The woman barrely reacts, eyes scanning wildly for whoever you’d been talking to. But Billy keeps Max quiet, pinching her hard when she tries escaping his grip.

Billy watches the woman in your window with a hatred he’s only ever felt towards Neil. She acts the same, menacing glares and a puffed-up chest. You react just as he does, a personified tension-diffuser as you shrink in on yourself and give steady, slow answers. She’s shouting, you’re mumbling. She’s advancing, you’re backing away. She’s grabbing your wrist, forcing you close to her, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

Billy’s stomach churns; he can’t watch this any longer.

He herds Max to the other side of the house, keeps her restrained with one hand and pries at her window with the other. It opens smooth and easy, no squeaking that would alert their parents to their escapade.

Once they’re both inside, she flips.

“You asshole,” She huffs, “You manhandled me! You really couldn’t just let me have one nice conversation with my friend? You had to yank me away like some psychopath?”

“She wasn’t going to come back,” Billy murmurs, a glint in his eyes urging her to lower her own voice, “And she didn’t fall down the stairs. Go to sleep, Max.”

He feels a pillow hit him in the back as he strides out of her room, and each step down the hallway towards his own feels like he’s numbing from the inside out. The role reversal of his own life had been so mind-shattering, watching a scene from his household happen in real time in front of him instead of a torturous memory in his nightmares.

By the time he reaches his room, his fingers are too numb to shut the door. He kicks it closed instead, staring out of the still-opened window to watch your own. The curtains are drawn again, shutting you off from the world.

He stands there staring for what feels like seconds, but is probably minutes with the way his brain is warping his thoughts. Abuse felt so lonely, it was a soundproof room with padded walls, but they stung like hot coals when his dad came stomping in to shove him up against them. His family, his safe space, his padded room, came with the irony of only existing alongside pain, fear, and anxiety. And knowing there was an identical room beside his for god knows how long, thick layers of insulation drowning out each of your cries and blocking out each other’s existence, makes him sick.

His eye stings with the residual image of your own, a feeling he knows all too well. His hand, on instinct, tingles with a cold sort of sensation, the same that he got from grabbing the ice-covered peas out of the freezer.

He’s off to the kitchen in a hurry, feet padding carefully across the floor so as not to alert anyone of his presence. The biggest challenge is opening the freezer door quietly, but he’s a pro at it by now. He takes the peas back to his room, but this time he doesn’t curl up in his bed with them pressed to his eye, he clutches them tightly and heads for the window.

Max’s flashlight is discarded on the sill, and he wraps it in his free fist. He clicks it on cautiously, testing the sound to see how it echoes in the empty space between your house and his. It’s not obnoxiously loud, hopefully no one can hear it.

He flashes it against your window, only for a second, then ducks beneath the sill. He waits, expecting an explosion of sound as your mother reaches out to grab him. But nothing happens, so he straightens up to his full height. The wind nips at his bare arms, goosebumps erupting over the skin not covered by his muscle tank. He waves the flashlight once more at your window, covering it with his thumb to flash it instead of clicking the button rapidly. 

He hears shuffling from inside, then silence. Then shuffling again, a little closer, and silence. Then more shuffling, and the routine continues until he hears your fingers scrape at the window pane.

You duck under the curtains this time, easier to slip back inside and shut the window instead of drawing the curtains, “Max, I can’t-”

Billy doesn’t know what to say when your eye catches him. He blinks, once, twice, three times, watching as your anxious eyes rove over him. Only then does he register the chill in his hand, the peas.

“Here,” He murmurs, voice soft and slightly raspy, as he holds the package out to you, “Ten minutes, then turn the package around, then ten more minutes. And if it’s still icy, do it over again.”

You take the peas because you have to, because he’s pressing the cold package into your hand. Your fingers wrap around it and you peer curiously at the image on the front, only glancing back up at him when he shifts in his stance, leaves crushed beneath his feet.

“The package rustles,” He warns you, “Be careful. Don’t get caught.”

“I won’t,” You finally murmur, breaking your stunned silence, “I- Uh, thank you. It’s.. Billy, right?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding once. He’s half aware that his curls aren’t exactly perfect like they typically are, because nodding sends one of them tumbling into his eyesight over his forehead, “That’s me.”

“Y/N,” You mumble, and this time even Billy hears the heavy footfalls in your hallway. They set you on edge again, and he yanks his fingers back from the windowsill so that you can snap it shut, “I gotta go.”

“Bye,” He whispers, voice lost to the night as he stands outside your window. He ducks beneath the sill again, where your mom can’t see him if she decides to search the premises. He doesn’t hear anything from your room, though, and he takes it as a good sign when the footsteps retreat. Then he hears the soft crunch of the package of peas, muffled beneath what he assumes is your blanket as bed springs creak from within.

His eyes snap shut at the sound, envisioning you curled up beneath your comforter, hugging the bag of peas to your bruise. It’s a position that feels so natural to him he almost replicates it, back slumped against the siding of your house. The rustling stops; you got yourself settled.

Only then does he move, climbing back through his window and shutting it for the night. He can’t sleep, though, eyes drifting towards your window from his seat on his bed. He watches, he waits, he stares until his eyes sting, every second that passes a blessing for the lack of commotion it causes. When he does fall asleep it’s after the upstairs lights of your house have shut off, because only then is it over, only then is it safe. He sleeps in solidarity with you, knowing that the click of the lightswitch puts you at ease just like it does him; if there's someone else awake, it’s not safe to sleep. He’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a stiff neck from sleeping up against the wall, but his eyes will flutter open and the first thing he’ll see is your window, hopefully open to showcase peace inside.

Never in his life has he felt connected to someone his age. That’s what abuse does, that’s what Neil does. He isolates Billy, keeping him under his thumb so the boy can’t escape his clutches. But now there’s a glimmer of hope right next door. Hope, he supposes, isn’t the right word. A muddy black eye isn’t hopeful. It is, though, when it’s matching his own, when your scars and bruises line up with each other’s to map out constellations of torture. He wants to chart them, find out where the patterns are, spit out the stories behind them.

He’s spent enough time stargazing his own past, picking a new ball of fire each night to examine. To pick apart, to wish he’d have acted differently in, to regret. Now there’s a whole other sky mere feet away from him, and he yearns to chart it, to explore its patterns in the desperate hope of finding companionship. Oh, that cluster? A missed curfew. That bright one? Backtalk.

He’s always felt like a potential supernova. Like one day, all of the hurt, rage, and despair inside of him is going to burst forth in an explosion of color, blood and guts paired with anguish and heartache. 

And now, knowing there’s another ticking time bomb beside him, two panes of glass separating the two dying stars, he has hope. Maybe it’s morbid, to want to explode in tandem. To seek connection in even destruction. All Billy knows is that if he can’t get out, he’ll die.

He thinks about it for a moment; getting out. Shooting across the galaxy, hurtling over the inky black sky until the swirling black hole that is Neil Hargrove can’t suck him in anymore. Landing somewhere where he burns bright without the threat of explosion. 

And for the first time since that vision began, he sees two stars. One yours and one his, twin flames, both rocketing towards a safe corner of the universe, one where no one else can dim your glow. 

Billy knows right then and there, he has to get to know you. He’s never tried making real friends, never wants to get close enough to have to reveal that Daddy hits him and Mommy - New Mommy - doesn’t care. But you’re the same as him, a dimming star puttering along with the desperate hope of migrating instead of exploding. And if you can feed off of each other’s light, merge into one, he knows you’ll be strong enough to escape together, to go out without a bang.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)