Im Sick Of Modern Celebrity Drama. I Want That Vintage Beef. Famous People Had Plenty Of Drama That We

I’m sick of modern celebrity drama. i want that vintage beef. famous people had plenty of drama that we don’t spend enough time exposing. I’m start starting a rag mag dedicated to digging up buried (literally) grudges. someone spill more tea about how harry houdini & arthur conan doyle went from besties to worsties bc one of them believed in ghosts and the other went around disproving them

Chapter 7: Devotion

Fortress Of Memories

Word Count: 3943 words

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, wounds, bruised neck

[A/N: i posted this much later than i was planning but i promise you all that you're gonna like this one :)]

Devotion

August 1985. Byers house.

“Your mom’s right.”

Eddie’s soft voice brought your eyes to his, silent tears threatening your eyes.

After the Battle of Starcourt or, as every unknowing person in this town called it, the ‘mall fire’, your mom had decided it was time to move for good. You knew she had been thinking about it for a while. She hadn’t been as secretive as she thought she was. You had heard her conversations with Hopper as you helped out in the store. You had even noticed the letters addressed from different realtors when searching for your pay slips. So, you had known it was coming.

It didn’t make it any less harder to say goodbye to the people you loved.

“I don’t wanna leave.” You say, your best friend’s grip on your hand tightening as a tear finally slips down your cheek. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

“I don’t want you to leave either.” Eddie admits with a sad smile, wiping away the tear with a feather-light brush of his thumb against your cheek. “But at least one of us has got to get out of this shit hole, huh?”

“The plan was always both of us.” You remind him with a shaky voice and he lowers his head.

You and Eddie became friends in ‘83, situated in the same classes. It wasn’t hard for you both to like eachother; similar styles, similar music tastes. In fact, it was almost like it was meant to be. But you were only friends. Even after your break up with Steve, that didn’t change. But, since then, you and Eddie promised eachother that you’d go through it all together.

Neither of you felt like you belonged in Hawkins. You had friends here, sure. Robin was a close friend, but neither of you really saw eachother outside of school, not until the summer she took a job at Scoops and forced you to visit on your lunch breaks.

Nancy was a friend, too, but you felt like she only tolerated you because of your brothers. Neither of you seemed to have much in common.

Steve… the two of you had reconnected over the summer. It wasn’t the same, but you had been willing to give him a second chance as your friend. You knew he had changed, and for that he deserved to try again.

And then there were the kids. All six of them, including your brother, that you loved to death. You had all been through so much together. But they would be fine without you.

It just left Eddie. You and Eddie. A dynamic duo that held the promise of escaping their suffocating town together after graduation. But he didn’t graduate. So you stayed. You took a job at the mall, helping him study on the weekends, and patiently waited for him.

Not that any of that amounted to anything anymore.

“It’s okay.” Eddie nods, suddenly striking a grin at you despite the dread he was feeling, trying to offer a joke. “I mean, I’d much rather call you in Cali than hear you almost died in a mall fire on the news.”

Your stomach dropped, guilt churning. He didn’t know the truth. In fact, you had somehow managed to keep the Upside Down a secret from him this entire time. And he was none the wiser, trusting your lies and never asking any more questions. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, every time you lied.

“Right.” You sigh, gaze drawn to the sheets of the mattress you currently sat atop. You’d have to pack these soon, along with every memory that made this home.

You could almost feel his smile faltering when your face fell, his body shuffling closer so you were both sat cross-legged, knees touching.

“When do you…” He gulps down something, an unreadable expression on his face.

“October.” You reply quietly, eyes searching his as he nods slowly. “Hey?”

His doe eyes find yours, tightening his lips.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

Without a word, he gently cups your cheek with his hand, resting his forehead against yours and you take a breath, inhaling the familiar scent of green apples.

“We’ll call.” You assure, bringing your spare hand to rest against his neck, tenderly. “Just like you said. I’ll visit whenever I can.”

“Really?” He questions a little shyly and you furrow your brows. This wasn’t a side to him you had seen very often. And it usually meant he was hiding something.

“Of course.” You insist, pulling back to look at him. “You’re my best friend, Eddie.”

Eddie thinks about this for a moment before raising his head. “I love you.”

You blink.

Of course you had both said it before, especially considering it was true. You loved eachother. But it was the way friends would say it to one another, usually prompted by a tease or a joke. But this time felt very different. Honest, pure. Romantic.

“I had to say it.” Eddie continues when you continue to stare at him, mouth slightly open in shock. “Because you’re leaving soon and- and I know it won’t change anything but I never… I never had the guts just to tell you that I’ve been in love with you for two years now. And I’m sorry if that ruins anything between us, but I would never forgive myself if-”

His confession was broken by the soft feeling of something pressing against his lips. Your lips. As soon as the surprise faded, he lifted your face gently with his hands, deepening the embrace as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

When you finally break away, much to Eddie’s dismay from the lack of electric on his mouth, there’s a sweet smile etched onto your reddened lips, a glint in your eyes.

“I love you too.” You gently rub your thumb against the back of his neck as he breaks into his infamous grin, dimples in his cheeks.

“Yeah?” Eddie can’t help the laugh escaping his lips at the sight of his dream coming true.

“Yeah.” You nod, biting your bottom lip, yet it was impossible not to laugh giddily.

Even if you were leaving, even if you wouldn’t get to hold him every single day, you knew it was forever. Because you were soulmates. And no matter where you were, or how far apart you had been driven, you’d always feel that strong connection, pulling you towards eachother.

That’s just what love felt like.

Present Day. Randolph Road. Upside Down.

-Nancy, Y/n

You both stare down at Eddie, his eyes closed, a steady breath lifting his chest.

It had been a surprise attack on all accounts, from the sudden need to fight and the boy that had jumped out in front of you. Not to mention his persistent efforts to try and kill Nancy. You both knew Vecna had something to do with it.

“We can’t carry him.” Nancy says softly and your face falls.

The longing in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed to her. In reality, she would have felt the same if it had been Jonathan possessed by the monster. But neither of you were in the state to bring him with you. It wasn’t like he would willingly join you if he were conscious.

“I can’t just leave him here, Nance.” You sigh, rubbing your neck slightly. It was sore to the touch, bruises left from his firm grip. He wouldn’t have killed you, that’s for sure. But the Eddie you knew wouldn’t have ever laid his hands on you like that.

“I don’t want to either, believe me.” Nancy assures, glancing down at the boy, peacefully asleep. Well, as peaceful as you can be with a demon in your head. “He’s okay. When he wakes up he’ll probably chase after us again, right? And hopefully by then we’ll be with the others and we can all try to get him back. But it’s too dangerous right now, Y/n.”

“I know.” You crouch beside him, tenderly brushing your fingers across his cheek. “It just sucks.”

She places a comforting arm around you when you stand again, resting her head against yours as you take a breath. You quickly wipe a tear from your cheek, cool metal pressing into your skin. You stare at it.

As Nancy points to his spear on the ground, you nod and she picks it up, testing the weight. Eddie wouldn’t be defenceless. Not with his strength and speed. Not since Vecna’s control kept the creatures away.

Nancy was right. Your best option was to continue to the Creel House and find your friends, regardless of your feelings. You had thought you could reach him, pull him out of the swarming darkness caused in Vecna’s reign. But the pain prickling your neck told you otherwise.

While your friend tries to slip the spear into a safe hold of her backpack, you place your hand in Eddie’s, closing your eyes.

“Please remember me.” You beg quietly, before folding his fingers into his palm and continuing the path down.

Present day. The trailer park. Upside Down.

- Will, Mike, El, Dustin, Lucas, Jonathan, Robin, Steve, Argyle

The trailer park was hauntingly familiar to everyone, memories of last year flashing before their very eyes as they did their best to avoid the centre of the trauma.

Whilst they had taken to the woods towards the Creel House, they had heard something lurking in the thick expanse of trees, the snaps of twigs shuddering their bones. Rather than continue, they decided to take the long way around, approach the house from a point they could see. It added time onto their venture, but it seemed to be worth it when everyone was in desperate need of a rest.

The first sign was Mike’s wobbling legs, his grip on Lucas’ shoulder tight as he attempted to bite the pain away. But the medicine was wearing off, and it wouldn’t be too soon until his wounds reacted.

“We should rest.” Lucas suggests with a frown, eyes on Mike.

Everyone turned to look, watching as he hooked his arm under Mike to keep him balanced.

“Why would we-” Steve started, breath hitching when he sees Mike’s ghostly pale face, “Shit, yeah. Uh… Rob?”

“Yeah?” Her eyes were wide as she turned to him.

“We need to find a shelter.” He says knowingly and Robin quickly nods, gesturing for Jonathan to follow her.

The moments it took for Robin and Jonathan to return consisted of a tense silence and a fearful anxiety. No one was sure what about exactly. Whether it was the Upside Down, the plan to kill Vecna, the tension of keeping secrets, the fact Nancy was still missing, or Mike’s battle with a gnarly wound… their mission had fallen off the rails completely.

They ended up in a familiar old trailer, the inside mostly free from vines that could alert their presence at any moment. Lucas tries not to focus on the fact that it all felt wrong. Because the Upside Down was frozen in time, and Max hadn’t even existed in his life yet.

Steve stood guard at the front entrance, Jonathan taking the back after a quick exchange of nods. Robin, Dustin, Argyle, and El sat against a wall, El’s head resting gently on Dustin’s shoulder as she closed her eyes.

Meanwhile, Will was struggling to open the paracetamol bottle, his hands shaking with every moment, eyes flickering to Mike’s pained expression. He could tell his friend was trying his best not to make a commotion, hiding his winces with the raise of an arm, burying his face into his jacket.

He hated it. Mike was never meant to get hurt. None of them were meant to get hurt. And the worst part, the excruciatingly terrifying stress of it, was the fear of losing Mike. Will honestly had no idea if he would make it, and that hurt.

There’s a gentle tug on the bottle and Will raises his head, eyes glittering with tears as Lucas offers a smile.

With a quick and sniffled nod, Will shuffles away and drifts over to Jonathan, resting against the wall and peering out of the back door with his older brother. Jonathan didn’t speak a word. Instead, he put an arm around his shoulder and held him.

“Here.” Lucas holds out the painkillers and a bottle of water. He shook the container a little to tempt his friend.

The fading volume of water was becoming more and more startling by the day. They had packed just enough to get to Vecna, kill him, then be out of the Upside Down in two days, tops. But with all the extra running, side-tracking, and countdowns on their lives, the water supply was starting to run short.

But Lucas didn’t need to care about that right now. Mike needed it.

“Thanks.” Mike says groggily after swallowing the pills, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Lucas watches as Mike tenderly brushes against the bandage on his right eye, fingertips travelling from where the white met his nose, all the way back to the tip of his ear. Judging by Mike’s saddened frown, Lucas knew he was worrying about what it meant. Would he still be able to see? What about his hearing? How would the scar change his face?

“I’m so sorry.” Lucas whispers, earning a confused stare.

“Huh?”

“For everything.” Lucas sighs, slipping down the wall to sit beside his friend, pulling off the sweat band around his head. “For what I said. I just want you to know that I didn’t mean any of it.”

“I know-”

“No,” Lucas shakes his head. He needed to say this. “It- it wasn’t cool. At all. No one asked you to come down here and risk your life. And I don’t care why you’re here because it should just be enough that you’re here. I can’t imagine doing this without you, Mike. I… I just hate that… you almost…”

“I want to be here.” Mike says, much more confidence in his voice that he’s had for a while. “The party sticks together. Especially when one of their members needs our help.”

Lucas contemplates this for a while, a small smile on his lips. Rules they had made long ago, confirming and validating their friendship group. It had all seemed too important long ago, somehow losing sight of it the older they got. Now, it was the most valuable thing for them.

Mike didn’t expect Lucas to hold his hand out to him, staring at his palm with uncertainty.

“I drew first blood.” Lucas says simply and Mike softens to a smile.

He shakes his hand before pulling him in to a hug.

Dustin smiles at his friends. After all they had been through, everything seemed to come back to the start.

The movement beside him, lifting a small weight from his shoulder, caught his attention. He watched as El offered a quick smile before standing and walking away, leaving him sat with Argyle against the wall.

“That’s beautiful, man.” Argyle speaks up and Dustin turns to him with an amused brow, the guy’s gaze set on Mike and Lucas making up. “Friendship always wins.”

“Yeah.” Dustin breathes out, nodding. He notices Argyle frowning at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Argyle shrugs, fiddling with the rock in his hand. “Just thinking about how I would feel if me and Rocky fell out over something silly.”

Dustin stares at him. “Rocky is a rock.”

“My rock.” He grins, before sending a knowing glance over to where Steve stood at the door with a solemn look on his face. “Don’t lose your rock, brochacho.”

“What? No. No, he lied. I have nothing to say to him.” Dustin folded his arms in defence, trying not to look at Steve.

“Alright.” Argyle seems unbothered, fishing out what Dustin assumed to be a joint from his pocket, “Just don’t wanna be fighting with anyone when we’re taking down the real villain.”

And with that, Argyle sits back and pretends like everything is fine. Truthfully, Argyle was just as afraid as everyone else. The hits of weed had calmed his nerves, but it didn’t rid him of the constant fear in the back of his mind. He was here for his friends, for Jonathan. And he didn’t want to admit it, but he was here because he had no where else to go.

Further into the trailer, El had wondered into a room she would assume Max would occupy in a few years time, imagining the magazines and skateboards scattered around. She had loved their first sleepover in Max’s old room, the feeling of security despite the unnerving nature of Billy and Heather’s behaviour. Max had showed her how to be herself. Much like you had.

Her eyes are closed, silently breathing in steady breaths. This wasn’t the first time she had done this.

The soft ripples of water beneath her feet reminded her of the first time she tried searching for you after you were claimed dead. She had found nothing, of course, shattering her heart all over again. But she never stopped trying.

She takes another step before lowering her head, shoulders slumping. Maybe the others were wrong. Maybe One was messing with their heads.

i’m fine, nance

El’s head whips up, searching the space. That was your voice.

seriously, it doesn’t even hurt

Her eyes finally land on an object in the distance, too far for her to be sure. She set off in a run, getting closer and closer to the figure, her breath hitching.

She sees you, walking with your head hung low, a tight grip on the weapon in your hand. She can tell you’re with someone, but they don’t show. Nance, you had said. Did that mean Nancy was with you?

Then, she notices the bruises on your neck, her eyes widening. You had been attacked.

She tries to expand the scenery, searching for clues of your location. But then there’s an ear-piercing sound, cutting her off.

A flash of One’s burned face.

She gasps, eyes flying open, trying to control her breathing.

“What happened to the nosebleeds?”

She turns to her left to see that Will had found her at some point, patiently waiting for her to return. His face bore worry, a hand reaching to brush her arm.

“They disappeared.” El replies simply. She couldn’t help automatically wiping her top lip, despite the lack of a wet substance.

Truthfully, she didn’t know why. Over time, her nosebleeds had just faded. She no longer felt the warm trickle of red after using her power. And she hoped it was because she was stronger now.

“What did you see?” Will asks after a while with a soft frown.

“I think I saw Y/n.” She sighs, feeling his hand tense up below her shoulder.

“And?” He prompts, moving to face her with widened eyes. He tried not to be too eager, but it was his older sister she was talking about.

“One blocked me.” El practically whispers, watching his face contort into fear.

“What does that mean?”

“He wants her to himself.” She explains with a pained expression.

Of all the people he could have controlled, he had to pick you. You had looked after her, much like you did with everyone else, but it was different. Because you didn’t treat her different.

When everyone was afraid of her powers, you had stood by her and shown her how to control her anger, to assess situations before acting. When she had accidentally hurt Lucas, you were the first to ensure it wasn’t her fault, that she was confused.

And when El lost Hopper, you made sure to fill that void and be the best big sister imaginable.

December 1985. New Byers house.

“Hey, mom’s making dinner.” You poke your head around El’s door, widening the three inch gap the girl had left every night since arriving.

“Okay.” El replies quietly. After a moment of silence, she glances up to see you were in her room now with a small smile.

“You okay?” You ask, sitting on the edge of her bed as she colours something on her desk.

“Yes.” She says, but her voice wasn’t obeying her attempt at faking it.

“I miss him too.” You say after a while and she finally turns to meet your eyes. “He was amazing. And I know he’d be so proud of you right now.”

“Do you think so?” El’s voice wobbled and she moved from her chair to sit beside you, allowing you to grasp her hand.

“I know it.” You smile, “And I know he wanted you to have a normal life, too. And I am really glad you’re here.”

“Why?” She questions, resting her head on your shoulder and you gently stroke her hair with your other hand.

“Because there are too many boys in this house.” You sigh and she giggles. “And I always wanted a sister.”

“Me too.” El smiled, bringing her head up before glancing to the door. “What are we eating?”

“Well,” You purse your lips, “Mom’s cooking so… we’ll probably order pizza soon.”

She can’t help the grin on her face as you grimaced just before Joyce shouts up the stairs.

“Hey, kids, how do we feel about pizza?”

You both go silent, slowly turning to eachother before erupting into a fit of laughter, falling back onto the bed while clutching your stomachs.

Present day. Randolph Lane. Upside Down.

- Eddie

Once he groans awake, breathing out into the spotted air, he realises he had failed.

And you were nowhere to be found.

Eddie sits up, moving his hand to grab his shield that lay not far from him, noticing his spear had disappeared. You must have taken it for the other girl.

Then he feels it, something cold and defined in his hand.

Slowly opening his palm, he frowns at the object, glinting blue in his hand.

Why was he holding a ring?

It was a little muddy, the shine on the silver coated with dust. It wasn’t one he had worn, nothing like the rings on his left hand. But the small blue in the centre stared back at him.

It was definitely familiar.

But why did he have it?

It was impossible, for one. Considering the rings on his left hand were the only ones he had worn since giving you the other-

You had taken the ring, slipping it onto your right hand and admiring it with a small smile, a laugh on your lips as he just stared in awe.

It was just a favour, you fiddling around with his rings as you led with your back to his chest before asking to try the blue silver on. He couldn’t say no to you, chuckling as you try it on every finger before settling on mirroring his own preferred way, holding it up to admire.

But he was too busy admiring you, his best friend. The girl he was madly in love with. He insisted you keep the ring after that.

Stumbling back, Eddie breaks out of the memory with a harsh gasp, hand over his heart as he clutched onto the ring tightly. During all of his commands and obedience, there had always been one thing holding him back from submitting to the darkness completely, one thing that was trying to trigger his memory. One person that he thought he’d never see again.

“Y/n.” He breathes out into the dark, a rush of emotions striking his chest.

He remembered.

He remembered it all.

[i'm trying to fix the taglist so if it isn't working then i apologise so much, idk what's happening but it won't let me tag certain people - i'll highlight in red the ones that dont tag]

taglist: @h-ness1944 . @ali-in-w0nderland . @dylanmunson . @silky-luxe . @mothmanatemycat . @sattlersquarry . @sadbitchfangirl . @fangirling-4-ever . @averagestudent03 . @gnnnne . @munsonology . @vintagehellfire . @bokuto-kinnie . @crissicat13 . @katie-tibo . @harrys-tittie . @the-world-is-a-mess-and-so-am-i . @lxvesickreality . @fracturedarkness . @frogers . @we-out-here-simping . @h0peless-r0m4ntic888

roommates [chapter 2]

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. chapter summary: Moving in, you realize Eddie has changed in more ways than one. You reminisce about that night. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 3,4k a/n: part 2 loves!! let me know what you think i'm nervous about this chapter! LOVE YOU ALL tysm for the positive feedback *mwah* inspo for eddie's tat from here ps! i'll only be taking 50 tags this time, and it's pretty full already.. 31/50 oops

chapter one ↡ masterlist ↡ askbox

chapter two ♫♪♩·.¸¸

It was almost 3am when you made it to Eddie's place. You took an Uber since Eddie claimed his precious baby, aka the shitbox van he still had, was at the shop until tomorrow, or today in this case. Eddie flipped on the lights and waltzed in, his arms open wide as he twirled around the living area.

''Tada!''

You were pleasantly surprised at how nice his place was. It was a bit messy, like he said, but you immediately felt drawn into it, intrigued to dive into the place. It was Eddie's and this was an unfiltered look into who he was today.

The living room was airy, a beige loveseat with an array of random throwpillows that didn't match each other at all in front of the TV, a a slightly dusty glass coffee table sat in front of it, topped with an unwashed mug and half empty glass of water, with a colorful Aztec rug underneath. The kitchen was white and modern with all the necessary appliances, sat against a natural red brick wall that made the space look cozy and warm. The only bathroom you were to share with Eddie was smaller than the one you had before, but big enough to fit a single sink vanity, a round mirror on the wall, a shower with a glass door and a small, but comfortable clawfoot tub. You noticed a couple shampoo bottles on the floor in the shower, along with a loofa hanging from the shower faucet. Ending in the bedroom that would be yours, it was accentuated with a king size bed, two nightstands on either side, with a big closet and a smaller dresser. It was probably the only room in the apartment that felt lifeless at the moment, you couldn't wait to transform it into your own space. Before you went to turn around, you noticed the door to the adjacent room was cracked open. It must have been Eddie's, you could only make out a few posters on the wall and a candle sitting on a nightstand, next to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues. Gross.

Overall, you gave it a solid 7 out of 10. It was definitely an upgrade from the tiny trailer he used to live in.

''It's nice,'' you said.

''It's home.''

You nodded, hiding the yawn that tried to escape.

Eddie nodded his head towards the bedrooms and started walking in the same direction, you following suit. ''So, fresh sheets are in the dresser, towels are in the bathroom. I have a spare key lying around somewhere that I can give you tomorrow. For everything else, we can figure it out along the way.''

You nodded, holding your hands behind your back so he wouldn't see your nervous fingers rubbing against each other. ''Thank you, for this. It's only temporary, until I can get my own deposit together. Then I'll be out of your hair.''

''You don't have to thank me. It's the least I can do.''

You stopped, standing in front of the adjacent doors like the neighbors you now were. It's the closest you've been to him in a long time, both literally and figuratively. He was taller than you, in the best way, with the top of your head fitting under his chin perfectly. You braved to look up at him, finding him already looking down at you. He averted his eyes as soon as they met yours though.

''Okay.''

''Okay,'' he repeated, taking a step back. You gripped the strap of your bag and pushed your door open.

''Good night, Eddie.''

''Night.''

In the safety of your new room, all alone, you took a deep breath. You dropped your overnight bag onto the mattress and fetched out your favorite pajama set, changing into them. You placed your bag next to the bed and opened the dresser, finding your bedding. The pillowcases and duvet cover were easy, but the fitted sheet seemed to fight back every chance it got, slipping off one corner when you went to the opposite one. Groaning out loud for the millionth time, you went to try again when there was a knock on your door.

''What the hell are you doing? It sounds like a porno in there,'' Eddie's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

''You wish. I'm just messing with the sheets,'' you shouted back, now on top of the mattress on all fours, pulling the sheet over the upper left corner. Gently, you held your hands in the air when it didn't budge and started to shimmy your way to the other side, when the sheet snapped back again and hit you straight in the face.

''Ow!''

''Are you okay?''

The door burst open, Eddie barging in, naked. Okay, he wasn't completely naked, he was wearing tight black boxers that left little to the imagination. You and Eddie never slept together in high school, but you did other things and you remember very well how his body felt against yours, or how warm he always was. You were crouched on your side, holding one side of your face, your mouth drier than the Sahara desert seeing Eddie like this. You'd never seen him naked either, only with his shirt off and you were right about him working out. His chest was more toned than before, his stomach rippled with the smallest dusting of abs, a sharp V line that you never noticed before, ending in the light thatch of hair on his abdomen that disappeared into his boxers. He had more tattoos too, he'd once shown you all of them. He had more smaller tattoos littered on his arms, just various simple doodles really. His right thigh was covered in colorful ink, starting from under his boxers and stopping above his knee. The one piece of ink that caused you to have a near aneurysm was the one below his belly button, three phrases all lined up under each other, like a tiny poem above his pelvis. Stark black ink, all capital letters.

TRUST ME LOVE ME FUCK ME

''Y/N!''

''Huh? What?''

Eddie was looking at you, brows furrowed, but his eyes held their typical mischief. He'd caught you staring, that was obvious. Even a blind person would notice that ogling.

''I asked if you were okay?''

''Y-yeah, sorry. Got hit in the face with the sheet, stupid thing won't hold down.''

Eddie snorted and held his hand up for you to grab. You took it hesitantly and he helped you stand up. ''Here, you get that side, I'll grab this one.''

Working together, you got the sheet on the bed in twenty seconds tops. You elected to ignore the way his back muscles rolled or how his thick thighs moved so smoothly, no thigh gap in sight.

''Are you working tomorrow?'' he asked.

''No, thank fuck.''

''Need me to tuck you in?''

''Goodbye, Edward.''

''Cute pajamas, by the way!''

Pushing Eddie out and slamming the door in his snickering face, you fell on the fresh sheets, barely being able to pull the covers up when you were already sleeping.

♡

Ten hours later, you were up and hauling in six boxes full of your personal belongings that you had retrieved from your old apartment. Eddie was still asleep when you left and you didn't want to wake him either. Last night was a set back for you, a mere hour after you swore to yourself you wouldn't fall for him again, you were wishing you had x-ray vision to see through those tight boxers. You blamed it all on being exhausted, you let your guard slip. Then again, that lower belly tattoo he had stayed with you all morning. He had always been a pretty guy in your eyes, but this... upgraded version of him was something much more obscene. He was his same self, personality wise, but that fact added with how good he looked in his almost mid twenties, how he carried himself with more confidence than ever before, was enough to kill a woman.

You were pushing a box of clothes across the hardwood floors, when the door to Eddie's bedroom opened, the sun from his room shining into the hallway. He was wearing pants this time, a pair of grey sweats so low on his hips, you could easily spot that tattoo again. No shirt, of course, but his messy hair was up in a bun, which you thought was cute. He'd never worn it like that. Eddie crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe.

''Excuse me miss, are you looking for a big, strong man to help you with these boxes?''

''Yeah, you know where I can find one?''

Keening in victory, you grinned at his unamused glare towards you. Pointing your head toward the entrance, you told him about the last box.

''Thank you,'' you said, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. Eddie placed the last box next to your bed, grunting.

''Jesus, what do you have in here, a body?''

''Books,'' you deadpanned.

''Oh, what kind?'' he asked, looking around the room.

''Eh.. fantasy, romance, one Kamasutra book.''

Eddie's head whipped around so fast, his bun wobbled on top of his head. His already big eyes were ready to pop out any second. You giggled, which burst into a full belly laugh when he realized you were joking. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, marching out of the room.

You busied yourself with unboxing everything. You hanged your clothes in the closet, lining your shoes up at the floor of the wardrobe, storing your bras and panties in the drawers of the dresser, leaving a couple bottom drawers empty. You stacked your new unread books on your nightstand, patiently waiting to be read. The room started to come together nicely - the dresser was topped with picture frames, one with your mom and the other with your friends at a night out, all looking at the camera with your glasses raised. The final box contained the last of your things, tiny items mostly. Your shampoo and conditioner, a make up bag, other skin care amenities, your bright pink vibrator, a gift from one of your friends, that you quickly stashed away into the top drawer of your nightstand.

Hours later, your things were put away, Eddie had gone to work, you had taken a 30 minute power nap and were now standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on your hips, lips pursed. Now what? It sounded silly, but until now, it hadn't even occurred to you that you now have to live with Eddie. He said you wouldn't see each other much, but you lived in the same apartment, thinking you would never see each other was just wishful thinking. You thought about just chilling in your room or watching TV in the living room, maybe read one of those books you bought. But looking around the place, it was clear that it needed a good clean. A deeper investigation into Eddie's fridge, cabinets and drawers indicated that you were headed for a long night.

Lucky for you, Eddie wasn't completely helpless, or perhaps they were Steve's input into the apartment, but you found a pair of rubber gloves, a sponge and a couple of cleaning products. You cleaned the fridge, throwing out an expired carton of milk and a moldy lemon, rearranging the items so they made more sense. The cabinets weren't that bad, so you only took everything out to dust the insides. You perfected the silverware drawer, swiped down the kitchen counter and every other flat surface you could find, loaded up the dishwasher and turned it on, fluffed up the throwpillows on the couch and with a strong finish, found a vacuum and swept the whole apartment, excluding Eddie's room. You stayed out of his room, feeling like you were violating his privacy, no matter how nosy you were. Or maybe that's what you told yourself, maybe you didn't want to take a peek because the last time you saw Eddie was in his old room, in his trailer he shared with his uncle. The day that he broke your heart.

It was a hot summer night, the brisk walk to Steve's house still managing to coat the back of your neck in a sheen of sweat. Late night on the 4th of July weekend, the streets were empty, most people still in town celebrating the long weekend. The closer you got to Steve's house, the louder the thumping music got, dulling out the chirping coming from the bushes lining the street.

Pushing Steve's front door open, you were instantly hit with a thick haze, cigarette smoke lingering in the air as nobody had bothered to open a window. Teens and barely legal adults were lining the hallways, dancing in the living room to your left and playing beer pong in the kitchen to your right while Michael Jackson's Bad boomed through the entire house. You were looking around for your friends, but didn't see any of them, neither did you see the wild haired metal head who had asked you to be his date for tonight.

You shot Eddie a quick text, asking where he was. Feeling silly still standing in the hallway, you pushed through the crowd, dodging a couple making out near the bathroom, ignoring the wolf whistle when you passed two guys sharing a cigarette. Clutching your phone in one hand, you used the other one to try and pull your skirt down, suddenly feeling alone and too exposed. You'd hoped to impress Eddie tonight, putting together an outfit you didn't usually wear - a Nirvana crop top with a dark green pleated skirt, black fishnets underneath, finished with a brand new pair of Dr. Martens.

In your - then naïve - heart, you hoped tonight would be the night he'd finally ask you to be his. You'd been going out for weeks now, hanging out in his trailer, studying together, driving around in his van. Eddie always sought you out in school, smiling when he found you at your locker. He'd kiss you every time he dropped you off at home, hold your hand when you navigated the endless rows at the library, buy you cotton candy at the annual fair, call you every night to wish you sweet dreams. Isn't that what boyfriends did? Even your group of friends had started asking questions, Robin specifically. What were you - friends, lovers, strangers?

You knew Eddie and his upbringing, which is why you never pushed him for answers. The timeless classic of 'what are we' always scared every guy off anyway. You figured he had a harder time coming to terms with his feelings. However, the more you spent time together, the harder you were falling for him. Hell, you'd already fallen off that ledge a while ago and you were only sinking deeper and deeper. He was Eddie, your Eddie. Sweet and thoughtful, the way he always hummed a song when you cuddled together in front of the small TV in his trailer. You always found it hard to fall asleep when he wasn't there, lulling you to sleep.

Nearing the back of the house, you could hear splashes and cheering coming from the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you picked up your steps when the double doors came in sight. Before you could make it though, someone called your name and grabbed you by the shoulder, spinning you around.

''Woah, look at you!'' Steve cheered. ''You look amazing.''

Steve pulled you in a quick hug, swaying a little bit when he pulled back. You wanted to laugh, he looked like a drunk child, bobbing his head to the music, his hair even more fluffy than usual. His eyes were rimmed red, popping open a can of beer.

''Thanks, Steve-O.'' You pushed his chest, giggling when he grabbed your hand to steady himself. ''Where's Eddie?''

Steve looked over your shoulder, scratching the two freckles on his left cheek. ''Uh, he's here somewhere. Think I saw him going to the upstairs bathroom.''

Your stomach dropped, Steve only did that when he was nervous. Why was he nervous?

''You sure? I think I heard him by the pool,'' you challenged.

Quickly grabbing your arm, Steve started pulling you towards the kitchen. ''No, no, I think that's Carver and his boys. Let's make you a drink! You look great by the way, did I mention that?''

''Steve, stop. What's going on?''

''Nothing! Just want to make you a drink, come on. What'cha want? Bloody Mary maybe?''

Steve's grip on your wrist was firm, you wouldn't be able to just pull free. Falling to dirtier tactics, you mumbled a sorry before kicking him in the back of his knee, your arm being freed when Steve tumbled to the ground, grunting.

''Y/N, wait! Don't go outside!''

Shooting a quick look back, you quickened your pace when you saw Steve getting up from the floor, rushing after you. You rushed to the back doors, the squeals and laughter getting louder. Pushing through the doors, you stopped in your tracks by the edge of the pool. Eddie was in the water with his back to you, his shirt off, but you could see his black jeans through the wavy water, his arms around Chrissy Cunningham's bare waist, her bikini clad breasts squished against his bare chest. Her arms around his neck, legs crossed on his back, she hung on to him like a koala, head thrown back in laughter.

Your arrival had gotten their attention, Eddie's head turning towards you, the toothy smile on his face dropping instantly.

''Oh, Y/N, you look amazing!'' Chrissy gasped.

Eddie said nothing, did nothing, as the two of you just stared at each other, his brown eyes shameful while yours were filling with tears, blurring your vision. Your struggled to take a breath, feeling like your lungs had just been ripped from your chest, never mind your stupid, optimistic heart.

Steve sighed behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you away. He cleared the party, lead you to one of the guest bedrooms, helped you under the covers and stayed with you the entire night, sitting on the floor next to the bed, while you wept until the early hours of the morning. The next Monday, you saw Eddie near his locker, his head bowed when you passed him in silence. His left eye was blue and purple, top lip busted. Too hurt and tired, you chose to ignore Steve's bruised knuckles when you grabbed lunch with him that day.

It was always a weird game, thinking about the time you spent with Eddie. Your heart treasured the good times, but then your head caught up, slicing those thoughts in half and showing you the pain underneath. You remembered that night so vividly, having gone through the events in your mind more times than you could count.

Then you remembered seeing him at graduation. Flinging his diploma around, his graduation cap long gone somewhere with his busted white sneakers peeking out underneath the blue skirt. He was happily chatting with Wayne, who patted him on the shoulder and looked so proud of his nephew, his son really, that for that one moment you forgot about everything and let yourself be happy for him. That was until Chrissy came along, her ponytail swinging in the air and kissed Eddie on the cheek, their fingers touching. You would have gone over there and slapped that goofy look off of his face if it weren't for Robin and Nancy calling your name, causing Eddie's eyes to look up, his smile dropping instantly.

You were so mad at him, still are if you think about it longer than five minutes. Ever since then there has been a sick battle going on between your head and your heart, like you said. In your heart, you believed he felt something for you as well. Then your head comes knocking, telling you to look at the facts.

It's all true, your head said, he didn't like you, never really wanted you. You were a game to him.

You missed him at times, the boy that you once loved, who he used to be. Your first love and your first heartbreak. But what was once said and done cannot be undone. Maybe it was time to forget about the past and focus on the present. Maybe you'd forgive him enough to become friends again. They say time heals all wounds, but so far, you were still stuck in that day, unhealed and betrayed and you had no idea how to move on from that.

♡

tags: @emma77645 @mopeymopeymouse @thebrookemunson @gaysludge @1paire2vans @somethingvicked @tiannamortis @aysheashea @sidthedollface2 @casmosmoon @aliceheart247 @madaboutjoe @mibizmental @figmentofquinn @munsonzzgf @siriuslysmoking @cancankiki @cxlpxrnia @eddiesguitarskills @tlclick73 @wendyfawcett @joannariesland @munsonzlsvr @flirtymunson @akiratoro420 @lolalanaie @ceriseheaven @usedtobecooler @hellfirewhore @sweet-villain @sweetsweetjellybean

👀👀👀... that last line...

Everlong / part seven

Warnings: 18+, angst, physical fight, blood, sexual harassment (someone touches readers thigh without permission but she stands up for herself and Steve defends her), reader uses a gun, smut, breeding kink, jealous!Eddie, daddy kink, mentions of pregnancy 

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader / Steve Harrington x fem!reader / implied Steddie x fem!reader (?) 

Summary: After weeks of avoiding you, Steve finally finds the courage to face you and apologize to you which may or may not end with a broken heart. 

Series masterlist 

-

The hideout was never really crowded, only a few town residents occupied the tables and the chairs at the bar, though the group of men that would always sit at the biggest table by the windows were loud enough to for you to think that half of the town were in here, no one ever minded them though, they are kind and never start any fights.

There’s five of them– the five drunks, Eddie always jokes about.

Tonight, the bar is more crowded, you don’t see many women around and it makes you a little uneasy. Usually, Robin and the rest of your friends would be here to watch Eddie play but Robin and Nancy left for college again. 

Continua a leggere

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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