Everlong // Part Five

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

Disjointed: Twenty-Seven

Summary: Eddie faces his demons

Word count: 8.4k

What to expect: Violence, PTSD, Mentions of child abuse

A/N: this took like 800 tries and 2 hours to post because the drafts is being an asshole! Let me know what you think! Didn’t wanna keep y’all hanging for too long.

In order to stand to his feet, Eddie yanked himself out of you, muttering a quick “Sorry!” when you hissed at the sudden loss of him.

There was undoubtedly a person riffling around the kitchen, no more than four feet outside the bedroom door. Eddie quickly threw on some clothes, and you copied him, not bothering with a bra or underwear.

You missed the hole of your pant leg a few times, too scared and trembling to focus on the task at hand. Though you knew the answer, you still had to ask. “Do you think it’s Wayne?” you whispered quietly.

Eddie shook his head as he buttoned his jeans. “No,” he breathed. “Wayne would never just come in without knocking.”

With your clothes finally on, you stood behind Eddie and clutched his forearm harshly. As if he just realized you were out of bed, he frowned at you. “What are you doing? You’re not going out there with me. You stay in here.”

“What if it’s a burglar? What if they have a gun?” you muttered sharply. “Do we have a gun?”

Eddie shook his head no. “Wayne took the shotties when he left.”

The sound of glass clinking together was a tell-tale sign that the intruder was scavenging through the fridge. The thought occurred to you that maybe it was one of the freshmen, but the idea flew out of your mind when the sound of the intruder slamming the door shut made you jump a mile high.

“Maybe we should just let them take what they want,” you suggested frantically. “They’ll go away when they’re done and we don’t have to know who it is.”

“We don’t have anything worth stealing,” he replied. “Our TV isn’t even in color.” Eddie tried to pry your hands off of him and take them into his own, but you refused to let him go.

“Y/N,” he hissed. “You have to let go. I’m going to see who it is. If I start yelling, you jump out of the window and run to Max’s house, okay?”

You shook your head vigorously. “No. I’m going with you.”

“No! We don’t know who’s out there. Or how many. Please, just listen—“

“No!” you snapped. “I’m going with you!” You scanned the room for something you could use as a weapon. There wasn’t much unless Eddie was willing to sacrifice one his guitars in order to crack a skull or two. Your eyes fell to the auxiliary cord for his amp and you quickly scrambled to grab it and held it like a tripwire in your hand.

“The hell are you gonna do with that?” he questioned with nothing but confusion written on his face. “Whip them with it?”

You glanced at the cord in your hand and then back at Eddie. “Garrote. You don’t need much to strangle someone.”

Eddie’s furrowed brows suddenly shot up so high on his forehead that they disappeared behind his bangs. “Jesus Christ, I suppose you don’t.” Eddie pulled the pocket knife he carried around with him from the back of his jeans and flicked it open. It hardly qualified as a knife—a three inch blade too dull to pierce the tape on a cardboard box. When you first saw him playing with it, you asked Eddie why he had that rinky-dink piece of crap to begin with, he said it was a gift from Wayne on his twelfth birthday that once displayed a snow dog on the handle that had now since chipped away.

Eyes as large as dinner plates, Eddie gazed at you. “Ready?” he asked uneasily.

You weren’t. Not at all. Who or whatever was on the other side of that door was a trespasser. They broke in, disregarded the clear physical boundary that prevented their entry and had the gall to peek into your fridge. Violating law and privacy was of no consequence to them, and that made you wonder what else they were capable of.

But you nodded anyway, wanting to chase away whoever the hell was in your house. Unless, you hoped, it was one of Eddie’s friends that was just desperate for a place to stay. Then they’d get a very harsh scolding and some roast that was surely still warm on the stove.

Eddie turned the handle of the brass knob slowly, pulling the door open ever so slightly to peek through the crack undetected.

His face contorted into a confused grimace. “What the fuck?” Eddie breathed, suddenly swinging the door open all the way and lowering his pocket knife.

You grabbed his wrist and held onto it tightly while you interrogated him. “Who is it? What is it? Can you see them?” You whispered frantically.

If he heard you, Eddie made no acknowledgement of it. He walked out of the bedroom and took a few steps down the short hall with you sticking to him like a feasting leech until he came face to face with the invader. You peered around his shoulder to see who was sitting at the tiny two person table attached to the wall of the kitchen.

The man was wearing a faded brown fishing hat that covered his face as he bowed his head over the plate before him, hosting what looked like the roast you made Eddie for dinner. He had the wedding album opened on the other side of his plate, pointing to the picture of you and Eddie showing off your rings at the courthouse.

“Isn’t that nice?” the man cooed. When he looked up to give Eddie a grin, your stomach dropped to the floor.

He might have been a handsome man once, with the dimple denting his scruffy left cheek. The other side was maimed with a deep, angry scar tracing from the corner of his lip to his cheekbone, making it seem like he had a permanent smirk that looked all too familiar. The color of his dark eyes matched Eddie’s, but the shape was all wrong. He had Eddie’s chin and head shape, but his thin lips and upturned nose wasn’t right, and there certainly wasn’t any softness present across the man’s face.

Even so, there was no doubt in your mind that this was Wyatt Munson.

A burning fury started to bubble in your chest. The man who used his son as an accomplice for his crimes, who left him to bleed in the dirt alone and take the fall for him, the bastard who consistently rang the house for weeks until Wayne left, was sitting at your kitchen table like he was at Sunday brunch.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie blurted.

Wyatt clutched his hand over his heart with an exaggerated pout. It was unnerving to see the mannerisms you loved about Eddie show up on a man you wished the earth would swallow whole.

“Is that how you treat your ol’ man, Skip?” He stood to his feet and walked over to Eddie to pull him into a tight embrace. The twin lightning bolts and number 88 tattooed on the back of his hands made you nauseous. He patted Eddie’s back heartily and whispered about how much he missed his son, commented on how he wasn’t sure which one was the bride in the wedding photos since Eddie’s hair made him look like a woman, and how he was so happy to be back.

Eddie, on the other hand, looked petrified. His muscles beneath your arms were trembling, and though Wyatt wasn’t as tall as Eddie, you could see your husband fold in on himself as he pulled away from his dad.

Face blanched, eyes still wide in shock, and his once puffy lips pressed into a firm line, Eddie never appeared smaller as he lowered his head to avoid Wyatt’s piercing gaze.

You could see it clear as day Eddie was slipping back into a place that you couldn’t pull him out of as long as his father was near. All of his accomplishments, pride, love, mirth, and everything that made Eddie who he was started to fizzle out as his shoulders slumped and chest deflated.

Hearing horror stories about him should have clued you in on how enraged you would be if you ever laid eyes on him, but seeing Wyatt Munson in the flesh and watch him revert Eddie back into a terrified ten year old pushed you to a whole new level of livid.

With a vicious glare, you snapped at the outsider. “You broke into my fucking house!”

Whatever Wyatt Munson thought you were gonna say, clearly that was not it. He veered back a bit and scoffed. “Well I’ll be! Nice way to treat your new father-in-law!”

“Wayne is my father-in-law,” you spat venomously. “You are an intruder that needs to leave!” You looked at Eddie for backup, hoping he would jump in and make it clear to his unfortunate relation that he was not welcome. However, Eddie only flickered his eyes back and forth between the two opponents and remained silent.

“Okay, okay. Let’s take a step back.” Wyatt held his hands up in mock surrender and put on his best mask of sincerity. “I apologize,” he said sadly. “It was rude of me to come in uninvited, that I’ll admit. But you sounded a little busy when I was out there knocking.” His mouth twisted into a sick grin, showing numerous gaps where teeth should be, and the ones you could see hadn’t had a date with a toothbrush in decades. “It’s a little chilly out there. Didn’t think my boy would take too kindly to finding his ol’ man froze over on the steps cause he took too long to get off. ”

Your blood was boiling. This conniving son of a bitch was really trying to pull a fast one. Not only did he break in, help himself to food that didn’t belong to him, put his nazi-loving hands on your prized possessions, now he was trying to gain sympathy by blaming both you and the weather for his intrusion.

“You’re lying,” you replied hotly. “We would have heard you if you knocked.”

Wyatt’s pout twitched into a sneer before he caught himself. “Well, if that’s what you’d like to believe, I can’t stop you.” He turned his attention back to Eddie. “Mind if I finish my meal—“

“Our meal the you stole,” you seethed.

Wyatt ignored you. “—got some things I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Get the hell out of my house!” you screamed, moving out from behind Eddie and stepping towards the fork-tongued devil.

Finally showing signs of life, Eddie grabbed your elbow and pulled you back behind him. You huffed at him, ready to tell him to make Wyatt leave, but Eddie stared you down with a gaze laced in so much fear it killed the reply on your tongue. With two quick ticks of his head, he was silently telling you to stop.

You didn't want to let it go. You didn’t want to allow this asshole to sit at your table—the table you shared with Eddie and Wayne. He didn’t belong here, and neither did whatever trouble came along with him. You hoped Eddie could interpret all of this from the murderous look your eyes surely displayed, but it wasn’t easy to tell if he understood you.

Wyatt grinned devilishly at the mute conversation happening before him. “The spicy ones are always a lot of fun once you train them right. Looks like you got your work cut out for you, Skip.”

Anger flashed across Eddie’s face at his father’s words, but it was replaced by anxiousness when he realized who was speaking. You, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to turn the auxiliary cord in your hand into a necktie.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked feebly.

Wyatt extended his hand towards the empty chair s an invitation for Eddie to sit, as if it were his chair to offer up in the first place. He settled back in front of his plate and pointed his index finger at you. “Get your man something to eat. And I’ll have another beer, too.”

You scoffed at his nerve, making no effort to hide your disgust at being talked to in such a way. On a normal evening, yes, you would have made Eddie a plate and gave him something to drink—though probably not beer—without being asked. While some women like Nancy may have found the practice humiliating and prehistoric, you really didn’t mind. You did it because you enjoyed taking care of him, not because it was your ‘job as a wife’. Besides, Eddie usually made your pate too and you traded at the table. It was just something you did for each other.

But to be commanded to do so by a man who likely couldn’t even spell beer was insulting enough, and for him to do it under your own roof? You wanted nothing more than to take the heavy ceramic lid of your pot and beat his face with it.

The only thing that saved Wyatt Munson’s skull from being bashed in was the pleading look in Eddie’s glassy eyes. Seeing him so pitiful was only adding to your anger, and you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you get this guy out of here, but you complied with his silent request anyway.

Muttering a slew of curses under your breath, you made your displeasure known by making as much noise as possible. Bagning the cabinets closed, slamming the wet hunks of beef onto the patterned plate not at all caring that the juice was splattering everywhere, flinging the door of the fridge open hard enough to crack against the counter behind it, and kicking it closed again.

With a nauseating sticky sweet smile that probably looked more like an expression of pain directed at the vessel of evil across from you, you placed the cans of beer in front of each of them and put Eddie’s plate before him as if it were some delicate treasure.

“See? Just need a little training s’all,” Wyatt said smugly.

It took every bit of strength in you to keep your mouth shut, having to physically bite your lip. You stood behind Eddie’s chair in order to be close to the phone. Wyatt seemed proud of himself for soliciting such a reaction from you judging by the glint in his eyes, but he quickly adjusted his mask to put on the next scene of his performance.

Brow furrowed, Wyatt cleared his throat and began. “Times have been real hard since I came back to town. Had a little run in with the pigs in county.” He paused to shove tender slivers of roast into his mouth using only his hands like an animal. “I tried calling for some help—see if Wayne could spring me or put some money on my books, but I think someone was intercepting my phone calls.”

“What?” Eddie questioned. “Why would you think that?”

Wyatt’s hardened stare bore into you with nothing but contempt. Though the sudden glimpse into his true nature made the hair on your arms stand up, you hoped your glare was equally frightful.

Wyatt slipped back into character, looking like a wounded puppy left in the rain. “No one answered the phone for weeks. I called every morning hoping I could talk to you, but I only got an answer once.” Pretending to be unsure, Wyatt sighed heavily. “I think it may have been you, darlin’. You told me I’d have my phone privileges taken away if I called again.”

Eddie turned around in his chair, his brow furrowed and mouth agape. “Y/N?”

You knew exactly what Wyatt was trying to do. “You’re forgetting the part where I asked you what your name was and you refused to answer. And you never asked for Eddie. By the way, you owe me a dollar for that phone call.”

Eddie looked back at his dad, giving you the opportunity to slide a few steps back to get closer to the phone.

“What’d they slap you with?” Eddie asked.

Wyatt shrugged. “They thought I was stripping copper off the side of some buildings. Tried to connect me to some armed robberies too. I told them I only came back to see you for my birthday. I hadn’t been in town on the days they were trying to peg me for. But you know how it is. They see ‘Munson’ and blame everything under the sun on us.”

You rolled your eyes at his evasion of the truth. “Really? Decided to come visit out of the blue after being gone for over ten years?”

Wyatt’s patience was wavering. You could see it in the way his eye twitched. “You a lawyer or somethin?”

“No,” you spat.

“Hmm,” Wyatt nodded, pretending to stroke his stubbled chin in thought. “Feels like I’m on trial for something, darlin’, and to be honest, I don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist—“

“Dad!” Eddie said loudly. His sudden outburst earned him a menacing glare from his father, reminding Eddie of his place. In a much quieter voice, eddie once again asked, “What are you doing here?”

Wyatt rubbed his nose with the back of his tattooed hand and sat up straighter in his seat. “I need to stay here.” He answered simply. “I need to stay here for a while to recuperate some funds. Lay low from the laws. Then I’ll be on my way.”

Unable to believe what you were hearing, you fumed. “Excuse me?” You shrieked. “Do you actually believe we would let you stay here? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m his father and he owes me!” Wyatt shouted back, the pretense of innocence evaporated with the last of his patience.

Eddie jumped a mile high at the sudden boom of his dad’s voice, and you saw him recoil in his seat when Wyatt stood up and leaned over the table to tower over his son.

“You owe me,” he growled. “I kept you with me instead of sending you to that boys’ home when your momma died. I coulda left you on the steps of St. Mary’s and lived my life. Folk in there woulda tore your lily white ass up. But I saved you from that.”

A jolt of panic shot down your arms at the familiarity of his statement. Your mother often used the same line to intimidate you into being quiet about her husband’s slap happy tendencies towards you. She’d leave very little to the imagination when recalling her own horror stories about being a ward of the state, rolling through foster families and girls’ homes like a tumbleweed. Her reasoning was that Martin’s temper didn’t hold a candle to what would happen to you in those places if you let slip what was going on at home.

By the way Eddie sunk further and further down into his chair to cower away from his father, it seemed Wyatt used a similar technique while Eddie was in his care. “I know,” he croaked. “I know you did.”

Wyatt seemed soothed by Eddie’s submission. He sat back down and wiped his greasy fingers on his pants. “Made you my Skipper, didn’t I? My little buddy. Took you everywhere with me. Taught you how to drive, how to fix cars, how to survive. Even gave you some of your own money.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, staring at his untouched food. “I remember.”

Triumphantly, the eldest Munson in the room smiled and slapped his hand against the tabletop, making both of you jump. Somehow his genuine smile was much more frightening than his sneer. “Knew you’d pull through your ol’ man. Always was a good kid, Skip.”

Eddie did nothing. Said nothing. He didn’t correct his father or tell him to go to hell. Instead, he hung his head and tore at the skin around his fingernails, not at all caring that blood started to leak from the newly forged wounds.

Clearly Eddie was too deep in his own head to wake up from this nightmare and set things straight. With a final inhale to keep your nerves in check, you waited for your moment.

Relishing his victory, the middle aged man began to launch into stories about the old days in order to keep his talons in Eddie. “Remember that time I took you to Holiday World? Rode that damn seahorse thing till the kid working it kicked you off. Then I took you to get some Denny’s and you swore you were hungry enough to eat a full meal. Begged and begged to not make you eat the kid’s meal cause you wanted to impress my girl. Tried to make her think you was some big man.” Wyatt stuffed more food into his mouth and didn’t bother to pause long enough to finish chewing before speaking again. “Got you what you wanted and sho’nuff, halfway through the meal you started whining and cryin’. ‘I’m full, Dad. Can’t eat no more.’” He barked out a sinister laugh, sending chills of disgust through your body. “Told you you better eat all of it or I’d leave your ass there just like I did at the store. You almost made it. Had only the eggs left ‘fore you puked all over the floor.” He laughed harder at the memory, showing the few stained teeth he had left in all their rotted glory.

Your heart fell to pieces for Eddie. He was obviously ten or younger when that occurred. Probably with short hair, lanky limbs, shiny brown eyes taking up half of his face. How anyone could humiliate a child, much less their own, was impossible to grasp. Threatening to leave him behind if he didn’t comply? Something that seemed to be a repeating theme with Wyatt. Forcing him to eat to the point of sickness? It wasn’t the lighthearted tea-time story Wyatt considered it to be. It was cruel and disgusting. Eddie didn’t deserve any of it, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be held hostage to his father’s malice in his own home.

When Wyatt drummed his dirty fingers happily against the top of his beer can, you moved slowly to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Heart in your throat and fingers trembling, you reached for the phone. Hand poised tightly on the receiver, you waited until he tipped his head back for a sip to make your move.

Unfortunately, the loud beep of the buttons alerted the other two Munson’s that you were dialing out.

Wyatt slammed down his beer sending a splash through the air as it crashed against the table. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

You held the receiver to your ear for the operator. “9-1-1, please state the nature of your emergency,” the feminine voice recited.

With a trembling voice, you answered breathlessly. “2121 Holland road unit eleven—“

Wyatt jumped to his feet with such a force that he knocked the chair backwards.

“—A break in! There’s a man in my home that won’t leave! He’s threatened us—“

It only took him four steps before you were in arm’s reach. You let out a blood curdling scream into the phone in hopes that the police or neighbors would make it over faster. Wyatt slammed his fingers onto the hook, making the line go dead.

Eddie being nicknamed the ‘Son of Satan’ suddenly wasn't far from the truth.

With brown eyes bulging and scarred mouth twisted in an almost animalistic snarl, Wyatt drew his hand back to strike, but suddenly stumbled when Eddie wrapped the crook of his elbow round Wyatt’s neck and flung him into the table.

It was then that things started to blur from the adrenaline slowing your comprehension. One second you were preparing for a crack across the cheek, and the next Eddie was forcefully shoving you into the tiny bathroom and slamming the door.

Realizing you were no longer able to see him, you quickly wrenched it back open to go back out there, but Eddie grabbed the knob from the other side, only allowing a silver of his face visible.

Only then did you see Eddie lose his composure completely. Wild eyes, face burning as hot as the sun, and the vein in his forehead pounding like a hammer, He screamed in your face in a voice so harsh that it made your whole body freeze.

“DON’T FUCKING MOVE!”

With that, he pulled the door closed hard enough to crack the cheap sheetrock adjacent to the frame.

Blood pulsed in icy shockwaves through your body as you heard Wyatt’s bone chilling cackle boom through the trailer, pulling you from your stupor.

Despite Eddie’s instruction, you opened it anyway just enough to peek your head out to see what was going on. You wouldn’t dare interfere unless things looked bad enough for Eddie to try and at least save him from being choked out. While Eddie was taller than his father, Wyatt was certainly stockier and far more dangerous—seemingly unbothered to hurt his own son.

—-

Until he started school, Eddie thought his life was relatively normal. It wasn’t until he heard about other kids’ home lives did he realize he was deficient.

They had whole rooms to themselves, while Eddie was either couch or floor bound in the living room of wherever they were staying, thinking only adults were allowed to sleep on beds. Zach Baker didn’t hide food in his underwear for later because his mom would made him food whenever he wanted, and he thought Eddie was disgusting for sticking half of his cheese Sandwich into his crotch after lunch. Eddie asked him what he did to hide his food so his dad wouldn’t eat it all, but he only called Eddie names. Mary Meyers had a tantrum when Eddie took her glitter pen. It was baby blue with silver sparkles inside the gel, and he liked it. Dad always said to take what he wanted and make sure no one could take it back. When Mary reached for it, he bit her hand as hard as he could. He didn’t understand why he was sent home for three days, or why his dad whacked him with the buckle side of his belt until dad told him it was because he didn’t want to keep after him. He took Eddie to the steps of St. Mary’s Home for Boys and posed his hand to knock. Eddie screamed, cried, begged, pleaded—he didn’t want to be left there, especially not after dad told him what they do to little boys like him.

When he didn’t listen, dad would kick his ass and drop him off somewhere for a few hours. Once it was a whole day. Sometimes at a store, sometimes at a gas station he just held up so he’d be scared the laws would get him, sometimes close enough to St. Mary’s just to get the point across.

It wasn’t all bad Eddie did what he was told. If dad said he wasn’t going to school that day because he wanted Eddie to be a lookout instead, that’s what was done. He didn’t blink when his dad tossed him over fences of backyards that didn’t belong to him, or hoist him into windows of the unsuspecting homeowners. It was fun, and a lot of times Eddie got to keep at least one thing he liked from each house. He learned how to take things apart and put them back together again. What other eight year old could say they knew how to drive? He thought being told he was grown for his age was a good thing, and all these things dad let him do made him special.

Then he came to live with Wayne, and he thought it was the worst thing to ever happen to him in his whole life. Wayne tried to tell him what to do, when to eat, what time to go to sleep, what he could or couldn’t watch on TV. He made Eddie eat with a fork, throw away his stash of food, and he got madder than hell when Eddie took a sip out of his beer bottle. Eddie had to brush his teeth twice a day even though it hurt and made his mouth bleed, and he was forced to bathe with soap every night. He hated it. All of it. And what he hated most was when Wayne told him to ‘just be a kid.’

It got better, though. Eddie started to realize he was getting food every day, that he had a bed to sleep on, and Wayne made sure he had clothes for every day of the week instead of leaving him in the same outfit for three days at a time. He was behind in school since he didn’t go a lot of the time when he was with his dad, and he was beyond embarrassed when it was discovered everyone else could do pretty much everything he couldn’t. But Wayne helped there, too, along with his teacher Mrs. Knight. He’d get rewarded with candy, trips to the dollar store so he could buy things he liked if he got a good grade on a test, and one very special day at Holiday World when he passed fifth grade and officially made it to middle school.

Seeing Wyatt Munson’s face again erased everything he had ever experienced since after 1976. All sounds were muffled as if he were underwater, growing more and more distant as his father uprooted memories that Eddie had long since buried. Suddenly the night he got his leg stitched up was only yesterday, and the bite to Mary Meyer’s hand was just the day before that.

Until he heard your shrill scream ring through the trailer. Then he realized where he was, when he was, and that his father was no longer sitting across from him.

When it came to fight or flight, Eddie was almost always in favor of flight—both in his tabletop game and in life. He’d been smacked around before and did not take kindly to the opportunity ever presenting itself again, whether it made him look like a coward or not. Already being called loser, freak, ugly, and demonic, adding pussy or chicken shit really didn’t make much difference on the long list of unfavorable names.

But when he turned to see his dad’s open palm pulled back, flight wasn’t even considered to be an option.

He should have known you would have tried to follow him back out, but he needed you to understand that he’d rather have his bones rearranged than to lose another woman to the hands of his father. One blow in the wrong place…

As soon as he turned from the door, Wyatt swung but missed when Eddie ducked. Unfortunately that seemed to have been the plan since as soon as Eddie pulled back to dodge, he was struck hard in the stomach, knocking the wind right out of him.

Wyatt cackled wildly at the sight of his son doubled over. “Look like a bitch, fight like a bitch, fall like a bitch! You forget all I taught you, Skip?” He struck Eddie across the face with the back of his hand. “Put your hands up! C’mon now, block!”

Gasping for air and trying to center himself from the blow to both his stomach and face, Eddie straightened up enough to block the right hook headed his way, but failed to protect himself from the left.

“Pathetic,” Wyatt spat as he watched Eddie blink his way back to reality. “Shoulda known Wayne’s pussy ass wouldn’t’ve taught you a goddamn—“

Eddie wished he had his rings on for this. The jab that landed against Wyatt’s mouth would have likely knocked loose some of the last few teeth if he did.

Wyat stumbled back against the stove and pressed his fingertips to his busted lip. Upon seeing blood, he wiped and nodded slowly. “I’m impressed,” he mocked. “But now I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

One of the life lessons instilled into Eddie at an early age by his fathers was to fight dirty. Not everyone abided by the unwritten rules of a fair fight, and it wasn’t ever clear on who did. With that in mind, be the one to win by any means necessary. So Eddie felt no guilt in reading for the plate on the table and shattering it against the side of Wyatt’s head.

He didn’t stumble or throw his hands up to cradle the pain. Instead, the oldest Munson grabbed the younger by the hair and pulled it back enough to land a few hits in before Eddie let the grip on his hair hold him up just enough to kick his dad in the leg that never really healed right after he was stabbed there.

He yelped in agony and released his son, who then took the opportunity to land a couple of his own punches to wherever he could reach—stomach, chest, nose, forehead, ear, center of the throat—until Wyatt staggered and tumbled to the ground.

Eddie had seen it before—the possum trick—and he wasn’t going to fall for it. He kicked Wyatt in the gut until he rolled onto his back. Hurting and gasping for air, Wyatt put up very little struggle when Eddie sat on the man’s chest with his knees pinning down his dad’s arms. Grabbing his father’s jaw with one hand, he reached into the back of his pants to retrieve his pocket knife.

Eddie’s heart was hammering so loud within his chest he could hear very little else—not Wyatt’s pathetic whines of protest, the gurgling of him choking on the blood pooling in the back of this throat, or the sound of Eddie’s own ragged breathing. He had him. He had him right here to do what he wanted with him. The man who took away his mother, who took his childhood, who beat him, starved him, scarred both his body and mind, who broke into the only place he felt was his true home and tried to lay hands on his wife…

“Wayne told you what would happen if you came back here,” Eddie seethed through gritted teeth. He flipped the dull knife open and slipped it past Wyatt’s lips, the blade digging into the flesh at the corner of his mouth.”But he’s not here to finish it. So I’ll have to.”

Wyatt narrowed his hateful eyes, silently challenging him to do it. Eddie pressed the blade down harder until he felt it start to separate the tissue of the man’s cheek. With the knife being so dull, he would have to resort to sawing motions instead. But before he could execute the technique, a voice broke his focus.

“Eddie,” you said softly.

He didn’t want to hear you. This was his chance to get back at his old man for all he’d done. Eddie tried to ignore you and readjusted his grip as Wyatt tried to thrash loose.

“Eddie,” you repeated louder. “Look at me.”

He didn’t want to do that either. So instead he glared down at the man trapped beneath his knees.

Wyatt Munson had aged quite rapidly, likely due to a lifetime of meth, crime, and hard time. The skin around his blackening eyes was saggy and wrinkled. His eyebrows were flecked with more gray than brown, just like the thinning hair on his head. More teeth had been lost since the last time Eddie saw him, and the flesh of his face was gaunt.

He was an old man. An old man that could still pack a punch, but aged nonetheless. Soon enough he wouldn’t even be able to chew his own food.

Eddie’s grasp tightened around the man’s face. “You have two choices,” he warned dangerously. “I finish this Glasgow smile and hand you over to the cops, adding breaking, entering, assault, and battery to the time you’d get for probation violation. Or you crawl out that window over there and I never see you again. YOU HEAR ME, OLD MAN?!” Eddie shouted, shaking Wyatt’s face roughly. “NEVER AGAIN.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what the outcome would be the longer the man took to answer. But after Eddie dug the knife deeper, a choice was made. Through his crushed lips, Wyatt repeated, “Never,” as best he could.

Eddie quickly pulled the knife out of his dad’s mouth, noticing that a bleeding knick was left behind. He could live with that more than he could a three inch slice.

Blue and red lights danced across the walls of the trailer as the sound of wailing sirens grew louder.

“They’re coming,” you announced from the hall.

Begrudgingly, Eddie stumbled to his feet and let Wyatt get up.

With faulty coordination, Wyatt sprinted to the other side of the home. He opened the window in the living room, likely the same one he jimmied open to break in to begin with, and pushed his leg out of the sill.

He paused halfway out and gave Eddie a lopsided smile. “Proud of you, Edward,” he said, before dropping out of the window completely.

Disgust—That’s all that Eddie could feel deep within his bones at his father’s final words. But at least they were that: final.

——

When you tried to stop Eddie from slicing Wyatt’s face open, you hadn’t exactly meant for him to let the asshole go completely. As soon as Eddie proposed the options, you wanted to ask him what the fuck, but getting him to get the knife out of Wyatt’s mouth was more important at that moment.

It still wasn’t the time to bring it up as you threaded the needle through the gash above his eyebrow while he held a frozen sirloin against his other one.

His face started to swell immediately, so much so that his left eye was completely closed and a terrible shape of purple. At first you thought his nose was broken, but after further palpating you determined it wasn’t—only bleeding rather profusely. The pouty lips you loved so much had seen better days, where they weren’t busted open. His knuckles were just as marred—inflamed with split skin and bruising.

The two policemen didn’t seem to care much about what was going on, remarking that they’d like hot coffee since the thermos they brought with them had chilled since they’d been there. When you pointed out that you were busy patching up your husband that had been assaulted by the intruder, the older one scoffed.

The biggest mistake you made was telling them Wyatt’s identity. Though you didn’t start with his name, by the description you gave the idiots had enough to put the pieces together.

“So a family dispute? Not a break in,” the younger cop droned.

You scowled at him. “A man who doesn’t live in this house—“

“—Trailer,” the older one corrected.

You were ready to pull Eddie’s knife on them yourself at the comment. Nevertheless, you continued. “—crawled through the window, then threatened and attacked us! It doesn’t matter if he’s family—in the loosest sense possible, might I add—he had no permission or right to be here! And definitely not to beat the shit out of anyone!”

The older cop sighed as he scribbled on his notepad, clearly bored and agitated. “Okay. We’ll put out a BOLO on him. If he’s found he’ll be put away for a while since he’s out on bond anyway.”

His tone only further infuriated you. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t gonna do a damn thing about this?” you sneered, accidentally jabbing Eddie a little too hard with the needle.

The older cop clicked his pen closed and cleared his throat. “Ma’am, we’ll do everything we can to find him and bring him to Justice,” he recited flatly. He headed towards the front door with his junior filling close behind. He turned and pointed at the shattered plate and the food that once set atop it scattered across the floor. “Shouldn’t let that sit there. Don’t want ants,” and with that he left.

You stared incredulously at the closed door for a moment before going off into a tizzy about why the hell they’d think you’d just leave food on the floor like that for an extended period of time as if you weren’t sewing Eddie’s face back together, their disinterest for what had to be the scariest moments of your life, and a long list of profanities.

When he was mostly doctored up, you kneeled down and got started on cleaning the floor. The big chunks were easy enough to discard, but the floor would need to be wiped down to clean up the specks of blood and remnants of the beef roast that neither of you got to taste.

With the pathetic excuse for policemen gone, the house was eerily quiet as you wiped the floor down with cleaner. Eddie hadn’t said a word since Wyatt departed, once again retreating into himself. The occasional creak of the roof caused by the wind startled you every time it happened. You instantly thought that bastard was lurking around somewhere, waiting to come back for a rematch or worse.

The once comfy, isolated bubble exclusively for you and Eddie had now been violated. Where you rested your head at the end of the day, relaxed, bathed, slept, and relished in the love that radiated through the very walls was no longer impregnable. Fear, hate, and violence tarnished this place now, and the loss of sacred comfort and ease within your own home brought you to tears.

Eddie called your name softly with an unspoken question.

Throwing the soapy rag onto the faux hardwood with a squelching plop, you gripped the counter in order to pull yourself to stand. “I don’t wanna stay here tonight,” you wept. “I can’t.”

Lowering the makeshift ice pack of frozen meet, Eddie muttered an agreement and went into the room to pack. You wanted to tell him to forget it—forget everything and just get away from here, but the words couldn’t make it past your lips as you tried to calm yourself down.

Eddie didn’t protest when you took the keys to your car, nor did he attempt to make an excuse for him to drive like he normally did.

You didn’t take a second to glance back at what was once your safe haven before backing out and exiting the trailer park.

You weren’t sure where you were going in the dark of night. Wayne didn’t have enough room for the three of you and you didn’t want to lay all of this on him the second he finished a long graveyard shift. The two motels in town were too dirty (if the accounts of bedbug infestations were to be believed) or no longer open for the night. You and Eddie needed somewhere safe, familiar, and free of anything that could further fuel the anxiety coursing through you. Only one place came to mind, and just like the rest of the trip, Eddie made no acknowledgement of the world around him when the destination came into view.

You could see movement through the glass pane on the center of the door and the blue glow of the TV, the norm for a Saturday night in the Harrington home. You knocked louder than you intended to but couldn’t find the room to care as the icy wind burned your skin.

Steve poked his head from around the corner of the foyer and came to the entrance. Clearly confused, Steve started to ramble. “What are you guys—Jesus CHRIST!” he exclaimed once he took in Eddie’s appearance. He stepped closer to Eddie and tried to assess the damage by what little light the porch provided. “What the hell happened to you?!”

Not wanting to go through the story again and not entirely sure Eddie wanted it known who exactly was the perpetrator, you kept it brief. “Home invasion. Can we stay here tonight?”

Steve looked like he wanted to ask a million more questions as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but he seemed to realize you asked him a question and turned to you instead. “Y-yeah, of course. My parents are back, though. So you guys will need to stay in the guest room this time.”

He moved out of the way and ushered you both in. Once Eddie’s condition was fully visible, Steve started to look nauseous.

“Are you okay? I mean—obviously you’re not okay but Jesus!” he exclaimed.

Eddie stood silently, staring blankly at nothing while Steve ogled him like a marble statue.

Even though you were certain dinner was the farthest thing from Eddie’s mind, it didn’t stop his belly from announcing its desire for food with a loud rumble.

“I just made a smoothie,” Steve announced. “Strawberry banana. Do you guys want some? I mean, you can have whatever you want but I don’t think you’ll be up for chewing any time soon.” He didn’t wait for you to answer before heading toward the kitchen.

The thought of consuming a thing left the bitter taste of ash in your mouth. You looked at Eddie for a second opinion, but he didn’t do anything but blink the only eye able to do so.

You took his hand in yours, careful to not brush against any wounds, and led him toward the kitchen. “Should probably eat something,” you mumbled more to yourself than him, not at all expecting a reply back.

Steve whipped together two more smoothies complete with bendy straws and set them on the glass table, taking his own seat across from you.

Drinking an icy smoothie while it was below freezing outside didn’t sound appealing, but your stomach gnawed in desperation for nourishment as you drank the pink liquid anyway. Surprisingly, Eddie didn’t silently refuse like you thought he would. Instead, he slurped it fast enough to give himself a brain freeze more than once.

Steve clearly was eager for an explanation as he sucked down his own semi frozen treat, but did not vocalize his curiosity. Instead, he waited until after you and Eddie slowly made your way through the smoothies before speaking again.

“You guys can shower, eat, come watch Bad News Bears with me, whatever you want, okay?” he offered kindly.

You thanked him for everything when he took the empty glasses away and once again led Eddie by the hand up the familiar staircase.

The guest room was comfortably warm with a neatly made bed and an oak dresser. You put the overnight bag on top of the dresser and removed your winter gear before claiming a side of the bed.

Eddie slowly did the same. Stripped down to his boxers as fast as Yurtle the Turtle probably would. It gave you time to look over his chest to make sure there wasn’t any sign of his ribs being reinjured. He looked mostly fine, save for his face and hands, and mimicked your position—on his back with his shoulder pressing against yours.

You couldn’t pinpoint what you were feeling right now. Terrified now that you could take a step back and analyze that your home was so easily invaded, shocked that you had the balls to mouth off to a known lunatic without even thinking of what could have happened to you, frightened over how Eddie could have gotten hurt more than he already was, furious that he let Wyatt slither away to go destroy someone else’s life, and guilty for making the call that set everything off in the first place.

Eddie’s sudden speech made you jump as he pulled you from your thoughts. “Are you scared of me?” he croaked.

You sighed and shook your head before realizing he probably couldn’t see you in the dark. “Never.”

He cleared his throat and gulped loudly. “Then can you—I don’t know—can you—“

You didn’t let him finish before rolling on to your side to wrap yourself around him—Legs tangled between his, arms clutching his toro with all the strength you had. “I’d kiss you but I don’t know where I can without hurting you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, quickly followed by “Ow! Wait—okay—no it’s not,” when you gently pressed your lips against the lesser bruised part of his cheek.

“That’s what I thought,” you replied before nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck.

It wasn’t very late at night, maybe half past nine or so, but it felt as if you lived three days in the span of a few hours. Your body was screaming for sleep, but your mind was a hornet’s nest full of worry and anger.

When you felt a cold splat of water oh the side of your nose, your first thought was maybe the roof was leaking. Until you realized it wasn’t raining, and your nose was tucked away carefully into Eddie’s warm neck. You waited for a few minutes for it to happen again, and when it hit the exact same spot, you figured out what it was.

You didn’t think it possible for your heart to crumble anymore than it already had until you realized the sudden droplets were tears leaking from the corner of Eddie’s eye and felt a new pang of despair within your chest.

Clinging to him tighter and lightly kissing the skin of his neck to avoid hurting him again, you loudly reminded him that you loved him.

“I love you, too,” you whispered.

If either of you got any sleep that night, it was impossible to tell.

————————————————————

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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+

⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist

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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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 &lt;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

Everlong // part six 

Warnings: 18+, angst, mentions of death, nightmares, mentions of anxiety and depression, smut, unprotected sex

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

Summary: As Steve remembers the night of the party, he suffers through the guilt and the aftermath while you and Eddie get even closer. 

Author’s note: Don’t really like with the way it turned out but I struggled with this part and kept going back to change things. Definitely not my favorite part but I hope that you’ll like it though! 

Series masterlist

-

Steve woke up with a pounding head the next morning.

Groaning in pain, he keeps his eyes shut as he puts his hand on his forehead. His nose is aching and so is his jaw, his mouth feels dry, like he hasn’t had any water in days.

The noises downstairs startle him and he opens his eyes, groaning again as he accidentally looks directly into the sun that is shining through his open window.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, closing his eyes, he runs his hand over his face as he sits up on the bed, placing his feet on the carpeted floor, he leans his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands as the nausea rushes through him.

Continua a leggere

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.”

————————————————————

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