#eddie munson sad imagines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tbrxnnan · 2 years

Text

enough for you | e.m.

summary: in which you and eddie munson break up. based on the song by olivia rodrigo.

warnings: none really, cheating if you squint, angst, eddie being stupid, unhappy ending (sorry)

word count: 5,076

would y’all want me to do a sour series? like each song correlates with a separate fic? let me know because i’m thinking about it :) mwah

————————————————————————

you don’t know how you ended up in your current situation. you did know, but you didn’t understand how it could happen. your ex-boyfriend of 2 years, eddie munson, was laughing at a comment his new girlfriend made. she was sitting in your spot at the hellfire club table. his hand held hers like it had once held yours, his thumbs rubbing circles on her palm. what was most shocking to you was that his new girlfriend was chrissy cunningham, the head cheerleader at hawkins high. she wasn’t a terrible person, far from it, but you couldn’t help despising her for replacing you in eddie’s heart and life. you were jealous of how eddie was wrapped around her finger, at how she got the treatment you deserved.

it had all started six months ago when he had first done a drug deal with her. you weren’t suspicious or upset at all, you knew eddie would never do anything to hurt your relationship. however, something had happened in a one week time frame from his deal to them being practically joined at the hip. you knew something terrible had happened but he never let you in on what did happen. the entire week while eddie was practically missing and you were beyond worried, afraid he was dead, and then he came back and was suddenly best friends with chrissy. you didn’t say anything because you weren’t the jealous type, you understood that eddie could have friends that were girls and that wasn’t a problem. you didn’t even have an issue with eddie not telling you what had happened.

what you did have an issue with was how eddie started to detach from your relationship, and how fast he did. he started flaking on your after school hangouts because he would take chrissy to your guys’ spot in the woods instead. when he touched you, it was as if he didn’t want to. he stopped calling you at night like he would to say goodnight. he stopped waiting for you by your classes. he would cancel your dates on short notice, so often that you stopped reminding him or getting ready because you knew a cancellation would come. when you would hang out, it was awkward. he stopped complimenting you, which hurt a lot. you missed when he would say how pretty you looked in the morning, how you made the room brighter, how he loved the way you styled your hair, how you looked great in his clothes. the worst part about the compliments stopping was when you brought it up to him.

“eddie, did i do something wrong?” you asked quietly.

you were sitting on the couch in his trailer, your bodies not touching, a horror movie playing on the tv.

“no? why?” he questioned, not even looking at you.

“you stopped complimenting me. you used to do it all the time, like, like how i look good in your shirt or how you like my hair. i don’t know, i just feel like you’re mad at me.” you looked at him, your eyes pleading he look back at you.

“maybe i’m just not the compliment type,” he said nonchalantly.

you knew his answer was absolute bullshit. you had heard him compliment chrissy all the time when she was around. he would compliment her ponytail, how she looked nice in her cheer outfit, how nice her smile was. he would say that when you were right there with him. so when he didn’t even tell you he wasn’t mad at you, rather he wasn’t for compliments, you sat there in shock. the tears welled in your eyes. the lump in your throat made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. your chest was so tight. you wanted him to tell you he loved so badly. you wanted him to touch you. you wanted him to look at you, to really look at you and see how broken you were. you wanted him to want you, to love you.

“i want to go home, eddie,” you spoke as you stood up to grab your things.

he looked at you with confusion, asking you why.

“please drive me home,” a tear rolling down your cheek.

“what just happened? what’s going on?” he pressed.

“you found someone more exciting and now you’re gone. you barely touch me anymore. you haven’t told me you’ve loved me in a week. i’m not enough for you.” you looked at eddie still sitting on the couch.

and then you fought, not a small one, a huge one. he accused you of using chrissy as a scapegoat to dump him. he called you emotional and obsessive. he told you that you’d never be satisfied. you tried explaining that he was treating chrissy like his girlfriend, how he was taking her to your spot, how he stopped caring for you, but it’s like he couldn’t listen. you tried telling him how much you loved him, you loved him with all of your soul. eddie was it for you. you had planned to get out of hawkins together when you graduated. your fight had escalated to yelling, both of you on separate sides of the room.

“you’re being stupid, nothing is going on with chrissy and i! maybe we should just break up.” he yelled at you. you were expecting those words, but god did it hurt a million times more than you thought.

“i’ll just walk home. no need to drive me, don’t want you to feel a burden for driving your ex-girlfriend home.” you said softer. you slipped off the hoodie he had given you months ago, folding it and placing it on the table. he didn’t say anything back. he watched as you were sobbing, your body shaking. he watched you walk out of the door, leaving you to walk home alone as the sun was starting to set. the world was crumbling under your feet with each step. you waited and waited for him to pull up in his van and apologize, to have you get in and he’d drive you home himself. but he never came.

when you got home your body was beyond exhausted. you wanted to throw up as you walked into your room and landed on your bed. you needed sleep desperately, your cheeks soaked and your eyes puffy. when you woke up the next morning you had told your parents you felt ill, you couldn’t go to school. when eddie didn’t show up to pick you up for school, the realization of the breakup really set in. you were a mess. you had packed up all of his belongings in a trash bag, planning on dropping it off at his trailer when you felt ready. and then you missed a second day of school, and a third. it was the third day when robin stopped by your house to check on you. she had heard from steve, who had heard from dustin, that eddie and you had broken up, and she knew you’d need a friend. you had confided in her about your feelings about eddie and chrissy, and now robin was there to pick up the pieces that eddie had broken.

it was hard to go back to school and try to move on. chrissy had taken your spot at the table in the time that you had missed school. the hellfire boys missed you desperately, their hearts aching when you weren’t at school and seeing chrissy where you had sat. they watched you from afar. you stopped wearing your bright and happy clothes to school. you stopped styling your hair like eddie used to love. you became very closed off, very quiet. they watched as the jocks messed with you even more now that you and eddie were done. if the freak didn’t even want you then something terrible must be wrong with you. it didn’t help that jason had lost his girlfriend to eddie. the boys watched as you would sit at nancy and robin’s table, never talking, no matter how many times the girls tried to get you to. they watched as you secluded yourself to the library. they were watching you, while eddie was watching chrissy.

they wanted to bring it up to eddie so badly, to tell him to look at what he did to you. you had been so bubbly once, so happy, and now you were a mess. your grades had slipped and you were so close to not walking the stage in may. mike and dustin had overheard you talking with nancy once, they didn’t mean to walk by and catch the conversation, but they were glad they did. they heard your quiet sobs as you had explained to nancy how the fight had really messed with you. they watched as nancy held you in her arms, hearing you talk about how you missed making him coffee in the mornings, how you couldn’t bear to listen to his favorite songs anymore, how you felt like you weren’t enough. they wanted to smack eddie. how could he just ignore the two years you had dated and throw it all away for a cheerleader who didn’t give him an ounce of attention until she needed some drugs. nancy had reassured you that one day you’ll find someone new, someone that you’ll be everything for, and that eddie will be just a thought in the past. you just had to graduate and you could leave hawkins, leave eddie in the past.

now there was only a month until graduation. you were ready to leave, your room practically fully packed. you had secured a job in michigan, far enough from eddie but close enough to your friends and family to visit. so you sat at the table watching eddie treat chrissy like you should’ve been treated. you were able to save your grades. you were able to start talking at lunch again. the hellfire boys, excluding eddie, were grateful you were starting to get better slowly. you had been hanging out with steve, robin and nancy far more than before. you’d occasionally see dustin, mike and lucas as they were attached to steve, and eddie was never part of the conversation when they were around. they had made a pact that eddie was off limits, you didn’t deserve more pain.

the boys didn’t notice eddie walking up to the table while they were in the middle of a conversation about you, specifically about you moving to michigan. they didn’t notice that chrissy wasn’t attached to him, how he looked upset.

“yeah, she said she got this gig at one of the best book stores in michigan, something about being an assistant to the owner. apparently it’s paying well because she’s so excited to go,” dustin said as he unwrapped his sandwich.

“she’s gonna be moving into a family friend’s guest house and going to community college out there,” he said before taking a bite.

eddie was now sat in his designated chair and interrupted the conversation.

“what girl are we talking about, dustin?” he asked, his face resting on his palm.

the boys looked at him awkwardly, they felt that eddie didn’t deserve to know your business. they looked away from eddie and talked to each other with their facial expressions and eyes. eddie was annoyed, why couldn’t they just say her name, it’s not like it would be a big deal. he watched as dustin stuttered out your name, not being able to look eddie in the eyes. before eddie could respond, dustin changed the conversation and asked where chrissy was.

“oh, um, we aren’t seeing each other anymore.” he replied quietly, scratching the back of his neck.

the boys all gave (fake) sympathetic sorries before switching to a totally different conversation, leaving eddie to keep himself company. it was then when eddie looked at you, truly looked at you, for the first time in months. he slightly frowned seeing you with your head down in a book as nancy and robin conversed. your hair was in a plain ponytail and you were wearing plain clothes, not your usual designs or colors. he was also confused why you wouldn’t be attending berkley in the fall, that was your dream school and he swore he heard you had gotten in. what he didn’t know was that you had declined berkeley at the height of your grades mishap and heartbreak. nancy caught eddie staring at you and gave him a nasty stare, eddie quickly looking away. his cheeks turned red and he wasn’t interested in the food sat in front of him anymore.

he wasn’t even heartbroken over the break up with chrissy. they had both realized that bonding over shared trauma was a terrible way to start a relationship and they weren’t really compatible. she didn’t quite enjoy his hobbies and interests (like you had) and he didn’t really vibe with the popular lifestyle. she wasn’t interested in dungeons and dragons like you were and she didn’t really want to go to the hellfire sessions. he didn’t go to any parties with chrissy and he never went to the games to watch her cheer. they just didn’t work well. sure he was upset that he was single, but he wasn’t heartbroken over losing chrissy. the weeks leading up to graduation came by faster than eddie had thought. he was walking down the stage as his name was called, grabbing his diploma and spotting his uncle in the crowd. it took him three times, but he finally graduated. he had spotted you in the crowd. you weren’t looking at him walk the state, of course you wouldn’t. he wanted to talk to you after the ceremony was over. he wanted to see how you were doing but he didn’t want to ruin your special day. you worked so hard and you deserved to celebrate. he did hear from dustin that you’d be leaving in a week. he had one week to talk to you before you were gone.

the week went by painfully slow. he kept thinking about what he would say to you. he still hadn’t unpacked the trash bag of his belongings you ding dong ditched at his door. he thought a lot about you two during that week. he thought about how you two had been best friends before you started dating. he took you under his wing for hellfire and watched you blossom. he failed his senior year the first time to stay back with you another year, though he never told you that.

he thought about your first kiss at the spot in the woods.

you two had been sitting at the bench at your secret spot in the woods. you were absentmindedly reading the first lord of the rings book while eddie was smoking a joint. he was watching you with adoration, he was a goner. he swore he was in love with you and that you were destined to be together. it was a pretty day for hawkins. the sun was shining, it wasn’t too cold and the breeze was comforting. eddie had cleared his throat to get your attention, his heart soaring when you placed your bookmark on the page and looked up at him with a smile.

“i love you,” he grinned.

“i know, eds. i love you too,” you said softly, placing your hand on your book. he furrowed his eyebrows.

“no, like i’m in love with you. like when i pick you up in the mornings i love seeing your smile. i love when we hangout, even if we’re both silent like right now, because i get to be around you and for the time being it makes this town a little less shitty. i love how you giggle during hellfire. like, you’re it for me. i love you,” he said softly as he inches closer to you.

you two were facing each other and your heart was beating so fast. you had been crushing on eddie since you first spotted him in the cafeteria on your first day. you thought he was the most beautiful boy at school and it made your stomach flip when he smiled at you. the more you spent time with eddie, the more you had fallen for him, and here he is devoting his love to you.

“oh, eddie,” you said softly and looked into his eyes. he looked incredibly nervous; he was waiting for the inevitable turn down.

“when i saw you in the cafeteria on my first day i was a goner. you really love me?” you blushed, running your fingers over his.

“i do, really. you don’t have to say it back but i just needed you to know,” he replied as he played with your fingers.

he was pleasantly surprised when your lips were on his, your hands cupping his cheeks. your lips were so soft. he could taste your honey and vanilla chapstick. his hands found your waste and pulled you closer, as if that was even possible. all of your worries melted, it was just the two of you against the world. he tasted like weed but you didn’t mind. your hands found his way into his hair, lightly tugging. you pulled away when you needed a breather, noticing how eddie’s pink lips were swollen. he was breathing hard, his cheeks red and his eyes soft on yours. you knew you looked like the same blushing mess as him and you giggled.

“i love you, eds. you’re it for me,” you whispered before pulling him in for a kiss again.

he thought about how when you’d sleepover, you’d let him sleep in when you’d wake up. you’d make coffee for the both of you, his in the garfield mug and yours in a plain mug. he had a very serious and tough image but he was a softy with you, hence the garfield mug. he thought about how you loved his favorite songs. he thought about your dates at the drive in. he thought about your smile, how you used to style your hair, how you looked in his clothes. he thought about how you’d be at every corroded coffin show. the crowd was very small but you’d always be there, sticking out like a sore thumb in your bright clothes compared to everyone else. he was so grateful for you to show up to every show, supporting his dreams and all.

he thought about when you asked him to come to california with him.

you both had been laying on his bed, you on your stomach with a book in your hands and eddie on his back, running his fingers up and down your spine as music played in the background. you had been wanting to ask eddie for so long to join you in california, but you were afraid he’d say no. he had his band to think about and you didn’t want to be selfish asking him to put you first. you did still have a year and half until you’d be heading to california (hopefully). your counselor told you that you’d totally be getting into berkley if you kept your grades and extracurriculars as you had so far. eddie could tell you weren’t reading anymore, your eyes on the same page they’d been for a few minutes.

“everything okay, princess?” he said softly, rubbing circles on your back.

“can i ask you something?” you asked shyly, sitting up so your body faced eddie’s.

“of course, you can ask me anything,” he looked at you, nerves running through his body.

“you don’t have to answer right now or say yes, i just- um. i don’t know why this is so hard to ask,” you sigh and put your face in your hands. you were so scared of rejection.

“will you move to california with me when we graduate?” you couldn’t look at him, your cheeks heating up.

eddie’s heart leaped in his chest. his soulmate asked him to move with her when they finish at hawkins and he couldn’t be more thrilled. he pulled your body into his, making you yelp. he chuckled and watched as you huffed and rolled your eyes. he took your hand in his.

“sweetheart, look at me,” he fake pouted.

“i want nothing more than to go with you to california when we graduate,” he smiled.

“but your band and your dreams… i don’t want to stop you from accomplishing all of it. your music is great and you deserve to shine,” you whispered, your eyes meeting his. you continued to play with his fingers.

“baby, you will always come first. you don’t need to worry about that. i can’t wait to get out of this shitty town with you. we’ll get a cute little place and a cat like you’ve always wanted and i can still play my music. you’ll go to berkeley and i’ll be there supporting you every step of the way. i promise.” you were practically crying at this point.

“hey, don’t go soft on me now,” he laughed softly, caressing your cheeks.

you mumbled a small sorry and were met with a soft kiss. eddie’s lips molded with yours perfectly. you could kiss eddie forever if you didn’t need to breathe. you loved that he tasted faintly of nicotine and weed. you loved how gentle his kisses were. you felt so loved with eddie.

he thought about the fight that led to the break up. if he could rewind time and take it all back he would. he would’ve told you about what happened in that week he and chrissy had gotten close. he would’ve told you that he did love you, that you were it for him. he wouldn’t have let you walk home by yourself that night. he would’ve done everything to get you back and he hated himself for not realizing sooner.

truthfully, it took chrissy telling him they weren’t compatible for him to realize how badly he fucked up. he realized that you weren’t wrong when you pointed out how he complimented chrissy and not you, how he had cancelled everything with you to be with chrissy, taking chrissy to your spot, and how he detached himself from you. you were right that he had stopped touching you, kissing you and telling you he loved you. he knew all the death stares from nancy and robin were deserved, that the boys being awkward around him was because of how shitty he was being, that when steve told him if he ever came back into family video he’d leave with two black eyes and a busted lip that it was deserved.

he waited until the day you were leaving to go talk to you. maybe if he pleaded for you to stay that you wouldn’t go. maybe then he’d get to kiss you again, he really missed how your lips tasted like honey and vanilla. maybe if he told you he was still in love with you that you’d come back to him. maybe he’d get to go to michigan with you, or maybe he’d convince you to run to california with him like you talked about before. maybe.

you were closing your car’s trunk when you heard eddie clear his throat. your heart felt heavy and you were already emotional from saying goodbye to everyone. it took everything in you to turn around and face him. when you turned, you wanted to disappear. he was looking at you, really looking at you, for the first time in so long. you had stared at him infinite times during the time you’d been broken up and he never returned a look, but today he did. he was wearing his usual reebok’s, ripped jeans, black sabbath shirt and denim vest outfit. his hair had gotten a little longer. his brown eyes were staring straight into yours. you hated to admit how beautiful he still was. your heart was racing and the silence was awkward.

“hi,” he breathed.

“hi,” you said softly.

“please don’t go,” he took a step closer to you.

“you don’t get to say that to me. not after everything.” you said harshly, and he deserved it.

“if i could take it all back, i would. i swear. i wanted to come talk to you sooner, but i- i didn’t know what to say, what i could say to make this all better.” he rambled.

“you can’t make it better, eddie. please don’t try. please let me leave without my heart breaking again.” you croaked. you could feel the tears threatening to spill. what a fucking joke this was, him thinking he could apologize.

“i’m sorry, i really am. you gotta believe me, sweetheart,” he pleaded. the pet name made you flinch. you hadn’t been called so in months, it was so unfamiliar.

“i was an asshole. i shouldn’t have detached like that. i shouldn’t have let you walk home alone crying. i shouldn’t have treated her like i should’ve treated you. i miss you, i really do. i miss the smell of your coffee in the morning. i miss seeing you at the bar for our shows. i miss our movie nights. i miss laying in bed with you while we listen to tapes. i miss watching you read on my bed.”

your heart was nearly going to explode. you felt angry, betrayed, hurt and annoyed. how dare he waltz back and try to beg for you after all that time, after everything he put you through? you were sobbing at this point. he tried to wrap his arms around you and was not shocked when you pushed him away.

“don’t touch me.” the irony. you wanted him to touch you for so long and now that he wanted to, you couldn’t let him.

“don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded? don’t you think i loved you too much to think i deserve nothing? but don't tell me you're sorry, feel sorry for yourself because someday i’ll be everything to somebody else. they'll think that i am so exciting. and you'll be the one who's crying.” you mustered up the courage to defend yourself.

“you didn’t stop me when i told you i wasn’t enough for you. you left me crying and made me think that i did something wrong. you— you broke me. robin had to pick me up piece by piece. you left me for the girl you knew i was insecure about how i couldn’t be as great as.” you scoffed.

“and now you want to come back after seven fucking months? and what, expect me to fall back into your arms? am i that much of a joke to you?” you saw he was crying himself and you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt or pity.

“all i ever wanted was to be enough for you… you were it for me eddie. we were supposed to go to california together. this is all on you.” you jabbed your finger into his chest. “i hope you feel as much pain that i did. i hope you feel like a failure. i hope you feel like the world is crumbling under you. you don’t get to discard me and get me back because chrissy dumped you.” your voice was strong.

“the freak didn’t even want me, i must’ve been a huge fucking loser, right? that’s what the basketball team said. but you didn’t have an ounce of dignity to defend me. no. no, you let chrissy replace me.” your voice starting to raise.

he didn’t even try to defend himself, he deserved everything you were saying. he knew you were right. he didn’t defend you when the basketball team made comments about you. he just left you to fend for yourself. he let chrissy take your place at the table, in the woods, in his life. he can’t tell you why he did what he did. he can’t defend his actions. his chest was so heavy, his cheeks wet with tears. he saw how angry and hurt you were. he wasn’t lying when he said he would take it all back if he could. he’d give anything to see you at another corroded coffin show cheering him on. he’d give anything to be on his couch, your legs on his as you watch horror movies. he’d give anything to have another hellfire session with you at his side. he’d give anything to make you love him again.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he repeated like a broken record.

“save your sorries because i don’t want them.” you wipe your cheeks. “i hate you, i really do.” you nearly whispered.

you turned on your heels and walked to the driver’s side door. you heard eddie’s footsteps retreat out of your driveway. you refused to look at him as you started your car and backed out, ready to drive to michigan for your fresh start. eddie watched you with blurry eyes. he hated himself for what he did. he hated that you hated him. he watched as your car started to go down the street, seeing how you didn’t look back to see him one final time. he couldn’t stop crying and was sure he looked pathetic. pathetic because he was standing in the driveway of his ex girlfriend who he screwed over big time, watching her leave to start over and have a life that could blossom without him holding her down.

you passed the “leaving hawkins” sign and felt relief. you had a ways to go until you got to michigan but at least you were out of the town that was suffocating you. of course you’d keep in touch with your friends and family, they were also told they could come to you whenever they wanted, an offer they very much would be taking up. you had stopped crying, your cheeks were puffy. you told yourself that eddie munson doesn’t get to break you anymore. you told him off, picked yourself up and made the decision to put you first. eddie munson was a fool for what he did to you, you vowed to waste no more tears on him. he didn’t deserve your tears. he didn’t deserve to have you in his arms again. he didn’t deserve to hold you down anymore. he didn’t deserve your love, your care, your smiles.. he didn’t deserve you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x angst #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #corroded coffin #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson sad #eddie munson x sour

1K notes · View notes

ambrossart · 1 year

Text

DANCING WITH MYSELF

— PART TEN (FINALE)

summary: eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, chrissy cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend.

❖ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ❖ word count: 11,785 ❖ genre: fluff with some angst ❖ series status: complete ❖ warnings: no season 4 spoilers, some coarse language, body image issues, allusions to eating disorders, typical teenage insecurities, angst, jealousy, anxiety, secret crushes, childhood memories, happy ending, lots of 80s music

Stepping back into that dance hall was a lot like being jolted awake from a sweet sleep.

For a moment you were stuck, caught somewhere on the threshold between the real world and the dream world with one foot on either side: half awake, half asleep, barely there… if you were even there at all. While you were sleeping, reality had continued playing like a movie you had forgotten to turn off. It hadn’t stopped for you, hadn’t paused, and now you were struggling to comprehend the plot, fighting to find your place in a world that had left you behind. You stood outside of it, looking in, but you couldn’t muster the strength to take that final step, to wake up fully and abandon the dream forever.

Because it was such a lovely dream, wasn’t it?

And now it was over—dead and soon to be forgotten, like so many dreams before it. Already, you could feel the memories fading further and further away. Sitting next to Eddie. Hearing his laughter. Seeing his smile. Feeling the warm press of his lips against yours. (You touched your finger to your lips. They felt so cold now.) These images drifted through your mind like a slowed-down piece of film; then they were just… gone. They abandoned you cruelly, slipped through your fingers like tiny grains of sand. You couldn’t get them back now even if you tried. They were floating away: back down that long hallway, back to that closed door that seemed so far from reach. You knew there was no going back, not anymore. Even if you laid your head down, even if you forced your eyes closed, you would never be able to return to that same dream. The door was shut, locked, sealed away forever.

So now here you stood on this threshold, unwilling to go but unable to stay. What choice did you have but to get up and face reality?

You walked into the hall on unsteady legs, feeling a step out of sync with everyone else. In the background, “Love My Way” by The Psychedelic Furs chimed hypnotically and made the room feel sleepy and surreal, as if the whole world was moving in slow motion and you alone were unaffected. People brushed past your elbow and seemed not to feel you. Eyes met yours and looked straight through you. Could they not see the red streaks in your eyes? The blotchiness of your makeup? Could they not tell that you were one “Are you okay?” away from a total breakdown? Did anyone even care?

Here you were, experiencing the greatest tragedy of your teenage life and—nothing, not even a ripple in the water!

You could feel your heart shattering into a million pieces, feel the shards of it tearing you up inside, but no one else could see your suffering. It was like that old philosophical thought experiment: If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

If no one else could sense your heartache, was it even real?

You placed your foot on the step below and felt your heel slip out from underneath you:

down,

down!

A gasp escaped you. Your broken heart leaped into your throat. You caught yourself on the railing, looked down, and saw that your shoe had come loose. It was lying on its side, the faux leather strap barely clinging to your ankle. You must have missed a notch when you re-buckled it, after you…

Here ya go, Cinderella.

Eddie’s voice made you jump. It came to your mind so clearly, as if he was standing right next to you. You sat down and buckled your shoe, then looked over your shoulder and wondered, Is it too late for me to turn back? Is he still there, waiting for me?

(No, probably not.)

Yeah, probably not… I wouldn’t wait for me, either.

You pushed the thought away and walked on. Down the stairs. Along the edge of the dance floor. To the table—your table—where Chrissy Cunningham was sitting alone with her back to you. She was slouching in her chair. Such a terrible habit.

You dropped down beside your best friend, molded your lips into something of a smile. “Oh my god, Chris, you would not believe the line in the ladies’ room…”

Chrissy turned at once, startled, her eyes red and glassy, bottom lip trembling. “I thought you left,” she said, her brows drawn together in a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “I thought… I thought…”

“What?” you said, and gently swept one of her loose hairs back into place. “You thought I’d miss your coronation? Come on, Chris, I’m not that self-absorbed.”

Chrissy shook her head as fresh tears filled her eyes. “I don’t care about the stupid coronation! It’s a cheap, plastic crown that I’ll just throw away in the morning.” She bent her head and sniffed, then wiped her runny nose on the back of her hand. “I didn’t come here to be named prom queen. I came here to have fun with my friends, with my best friend, and I’ve completely ruined everything! This night has been a total disaster, and it’s all my fault. All that stuff with Chance… and with Eddie…”

Your whole body stiffened with dread. No, please, no… I don’t wanna do this right now, not when I’m finally starting to…

Chrissy seized both of your hands in a desperate grip. “I’m so, so sorry! I swear I had no idea he came here for me. If I’d known, I never would’ve encouraged you like I did. Oh my god, I feel so stupid! Here I am, telling you to go for it and put your heart out there, while he…” She squeezed her mouth shut, choking back emotion. “I didn’t know he liked me. I swear I didn’t. I don’t even know why he likes me. I mean… I mean… I think I said good luck to him once at some talent show back in middle school, but that didn’t mean anything! I was saying good luck to everybody that night—everybody, even that kid with the creepy puppet, and he almost threw up all over me. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah,” you said, and managed a laugh. “It was hilarious.”

Chrissy laughed too, despite her tears. “No, it wasn’t. It was disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting,” you said in a teasing voice. “Look at you, Cunningham, you’re a total mess. Come here.” You grabbed a napkin and started blotting her eyes dry. “Your nose is running. Your mascara’s all over the place. If you go on stage looking like this, everyone’s gonna think you’re a lunatic.”

Another tear slipped down Chrissy’s cheek, painting a black line down her face. You wiped that away, too.

“I just don’t want you to hate me,” she said.

“What? Hate you?” Those two words didn’t even belong in the same sentence. “Chris, I could never hate you. You could go on a massive killing spree tomorrow, and I still wouldn’t hate you. In fact, I’d be right there with you. Be the Bonnie to your Clyde. And then I’d take the rap for you because you’re way too soft for prison.”

Chrissy breathed out a laugh, but the misery never left her face. “I feel like I’m always taking things from you,” she said. “And you like him so much and—”

“Chris, if it wasn’t you, it was just gonna be someone else. And I’d rather it be you. I really mean that.” It hurt you deeply, but it was the truth. “Besides, I can’t say I blame him. I mean, look at you. You’re sweet and smart, and gorgeous. And yeah, your jokes are corny as shit, but hey, no one’s perfect, right?”

No, Chrissy Cunningham wasn’t perfect, but she was probably about as close as anyone was ever going to get.

“Everyone likes you, Chris, and I love you to death, so… it just makes sense, doesn’t it?” A lump formed in your throat as you said this. You tried to force it down, but…

Chrissy’s face tightened with concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

Finally. There it was, the question you’d been craving and dreading all at the same time. You felt so wonderfully vindicated—vindicated and a little relieved, and now you didn’t know whether to pump your fist in victory or fall into Chrissy’s arms, sobbing like a child.

“See, this is why you’re my best friend, Chris. You’re the only one who can see through all my bullshit. You’re like Superman with that X-ray vision.”

“What happened?” Chrissy asked. Her hands were still holding yours—a looser grip, but somehow no less strong.

You cast your eyes away, started chewing on your bottom lip. “I just… You know, tonight’s been very eye-opening for me. I’ve learned a lot about myself. Swallowed some hard truths. They certainly didn’t go down easy, but… I think I’m finally starting to get it.”

It had all snapped perfectly into place, like a bullet into a chamber.

“You know, this whole time I thought my weight was the issue. I thought that was the one thing holding me back in life, and if I could just fix that one thing, then I’d be happy like everyone else. I thought I would blossom overnight, like in all those dumb movies.” Your expression darkened, wilted. “Well, that didn’t happen, did it? I lost the weight and nothing changed. I didn’t get any happier. I didn’t get any more confident. I’m exactly the same. So now what’s my excuse, huh? If it’s not my weight, then what is it? What’s wrong with me? I couldn’t figure it out before, but I see it now. In fact, it’s become pretty fucking obvious. I think I’m just a really unlikable person.”

Chrissy winced at those words. “No, you’re not…”

“Yes, I am! I’m a really, really nasty person. I know I act like I’m just joking around, but I’m not. I’m a massive bitch to everyone, especially myself. You were right, Chris. I’m the one getting in the way of my own happiness. Life gives me lemons, and I just eat them raw, like an idiot. And you know, I bet whoever’s giving me those lemons is standing there thinking, Bitch, what are you doing? Are you trying to make yourself suffer? Yeah, that’s exactly it! I think I’m determined to stay miserable. That’s why I keep eating those lemons instead of, you know, making lemonade or lemon tarts or whatever the hell else you make with lemons. I dunno, I’ve never really understood that expression. I mean, some people actually prefer sour things. And I hate lemonade. It makes my throat all scratchy whenever I drink it.”

Chrissy’s hands tightened around yours and pulled, drawing you close, forcing you to meet her determined gaze.

“What happened?” she asked once more.

Once more was all it took.

Suddenly, you felt the dam break, blurring your vision and making your dry eyes sting. “I fucked up again, Chris,” you said in a high, squeaky voice. “I tried really hard, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make that paper fortune come true.”

Chrissy raised her eyebrows quizzically. Right, she had probably forgotten about that.

“It’s that voice, man,” you went on, dragging your forearm across your tear-drenched cheek. “I know you tell me not to listen to it, but it’s so hard! It just whispers and whispers and whispers, telling you all these little half-truths. And after a while, you start to believe them because they make just enough sense, you know?”

Six years ago, that’s exactly how it got you. Yeah, Scott Sloman wasn’t the only demon trying to tempt you that day. There was a second demon—a dangerous, deceitful one—and unlike Scottie, it never broke character.

It whispered to you sweetly, sounding almost like a friend, like a good ole pal just trying to look out for your best interest (because that’s what friends are for, right?). It reminded you, so considerately, that summer was ending soon. In a few weeks, the campaign would be over. Eddie would be going off to high school and you would be left alone with nothing but this stupid journal that you clung to so tightly. A lovely little souvenir of your time together, that’s what these three months had given you. Congratulations, kiddo. Now you get to spend the next two years flipping through it while he moves on and forgets all about you. And Eddie would forget about you. That was all but guaranteed. Sure, maybe he would wait for someone else—someone prettier, someone like Chrissy, but certainly not for you. No, he would probably forget about you within a week’s time. Y/N, who? Sorry, that name’s not ringin’ a bell…

And then you began to think this was all a huge mistake. You’d waded too far into the deep end of the pool and your feet could no longer touch the bottom. Now you were left with two choices: stay in the deep end and risk drowning or reach for the life preserver that Scott Sloman had just cast into the water.

Deep down, you knew the right choice, but your survival instincts were way too strong. You accepted the demon’s bargain. Signed your name in blood.

After that, there was no going back.

Scottie’s eyes widened when he unfolded the paper and saw your answer.

“The deal is done,” he announced, and then discreetly tucked the paper behind his screen. “The demon’s offer has been accepted.”

The room went so quiet after that. All you could hear was the sound of a single pencil scratching against notebook paper. Eddie had no idea what was going on. Everyone at the table was staring at him, and he was just scribbling away like everything was fine, like you hadn’t just sharpened your dagger and plunged it straight into his back. His foot kept brushing against yours. Every once in a while, he would throw you a little smile. Meanwhile, you sank deeper and deeper into your chair, hoping the seat would collapse and suck you in like a vacuum, send you spinning through time and space and trap you in an alternate dimension. Your left arm hugged your stomach. Your right hand found its way to your mouth and hovered over it.

“Shit,” you whispered into your palm, and that’s when Eddie finally put down his pencil and looked up.

“What?” he said to everyone. “Is it my turn already?”

“Dude,” said Gareth, his face long and grim, “did you not see what just happened?”

“No,” Eddie answered slowly, with a touch of unease. “What? Did I miss something big?”

Gareth’s head bobbed. “Yeah, I’ll say… You’re dead, man. She killed you.”

Eddie’s back straightened in surprise. Then his eyes fell on you, heavy yet hopeful, like he was waiting for you to bust out laughing and tell him it was all a friendly little joke.

“What’s going on?”

The innocence in his voice made your stomach churn with regret. You kept your hand over your mouth, muffling your words with your knuckles. “I sacrificed… the ultimate power.”

Eddie leaned closer, squinting. “What?”

You lowered your hand and cleared your throat. “I sacrificed you to a demon for the ultimate power,” you said, and saw Eddie recoil from you, his eyes widening into an expression of startled hurt. It was the same stunned look he gave you tonight, right before you walked out of the restroom.

I’m really sorry, you said with your eyes, but that apology was soon drowned out by the sound of laughter. Your laughter. It came out of nowhere and spread through you like wildfire. You laughed while Eddie yelled at Scottie and demanded he intervene. You laughed while he huffed and puffed, muttered something about you being dead to him.

(Oh, shit, there it is, you thought now with a sudden spark of clarity. Yep, now I remember that.)

You told him to quit being such a baby. “Come on, it’s just a game, Munson!”

Then he tore up the stairs with his backpack half-zipped and flopping behind him. It’s better this way, that little voice told you. I know it hurts now, kid, but just think of how bad it could’ve been. Think of the pain you would’ve suffered once summer ended. Just think of it and you’ll understand. This wasn’t an act of betrayal. No, this was an act of mercy. You just did yourself a huge favor.

You wanted to believe that, you did, but then you noticed the piece of paper lying on the floor. It was Eddie’s character sheet, the one you had made for him. It must have slipped out of his binder while he was hurrying to leave.

(Or maybe he left it behind on purpose.)

Then you remembered how hard you had worked on it, how nervous you were to show it to him. You almost chickened out and went home with it in your backpack, but you were so glad you didn’t because the smile he gave you made everything worth it. It felt like your first major breakthrough, like you were finally on the right path with him.

And now…

You snatched the paper and ran after him. Nearly tripped on the steps, you were going so fast.

Eddie must have assumed you would come after him because he was waiting for you at the top of the stairs. This made your heart flutter with such hope… until you noticed the anger smoldering in his eyes.

“Why’d you do it?” he asked in a sharp, demanding voice. The strength of it almost knocked you off balance.

“What do you mean, why did I do it?” you said. “My character’s chaotic, Munson. She’s a wild card! God, you’re acting like this is the first time I’ve ever betrayed you.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and took off again. Blew through the Slomans’ kitchen like a fierce winter storm. You went too, and turned quickly to avoid hitting the counter’s sharp corner. Meanwhile, Mrs. Sloman was at the stove, stirring a pot of tomato sauce for dinner. She looked up as you two passed, then sighed and went back to stirring.

To Eddie’s back, you said, “Oh come on, Munson, I betray you on a weekly basis. It’s part of what makes our dynamic so special. I betray you, get us both into a lotta trouble, and then you save the day and we laugh it off and forget it ever happened. Wash, rinse, repeat.”

“Yeah, well, this is different,” Eddie said. “Yeah, this is the worst thing you’ve ever done.”

“Seriously? It’s worse than the time I abandoned you in that sand trap? Worse than the time I stole all your money and gambled it away? Worse than the time I tripped you when we were being chased by goblins in the never-ending caves? Come on, don’t be so overdramatic.”

“I’m not being overdramatic,” he said, and cut through the living room. Mr. Sloman was napping on the couch while Sunday afternoon football played on the television. Eddie saw him and lowered his voice into a harsh whisper. “I mean, do you even realize what you just did? My character’s dead now. I can’t play as him anymore.”

“So create a new character!”

“Create a new character? Are you fucking kidding?”

You cringed at the abrupt shift in Eddie’s tone. Mr. Sloman snorted in his sleep and rolled over.

“Okay, so don’t create a new character,” you replied in a waning voice. “How ‘bout we make a brand new adventure out of it? We can call it ‘Journey into the Underworld: The Quest for Munson’s Soul.’ It’ll be kinda like the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice, but don’t worry, I promise I won’t look back.”

“I don’t know what that means!” Eddie yelled, frustration straining his throat. “God, you keep making all these weird, obscure references that nobody else understands… Besides, my soul isn’t even in the underworld. I dunno where my soul is. You sold it to a demon for some stupid, made-up power!”

“SO THEN WE’LL GO GET IT BACK!” you screamed, making Eddie stop and whip around. You staggered backward, shrinking away from him in shame. His brown eyes were hard and cold, colder than you had ever seen.

That’s when it finally hit you: This isn’t like all those other times, is it? This isn’t something we’re gonna laugh about later.

Then Eddie saw the character sheet and—“Hey, gimme that!”—ripped it right out of your hand. You flinched as the paper sliced across your skin, and flinched again as Eddie’s fist closed around it, crushing the little rectangle beyond repair.

“I was gonna give that back,” you started to say, but then you realized it didn’t matter. The paper disappeared into Eddie’s backpack, and you never saw it again. You figured he probably threw it away.

This is it, isn’t it? Somehow, you could just feel it. This is the end of everything.

All these heavy thoughts crept into your heart like water seeping into a cracked ship hull. Now you were sinking in these ice-cold feelings, and there was nothing you could do but try to buy yourself some time. Try to stay afloat long enough to safely reach the shore. And that’s when you felt a familiar instinct take over. Limb by limb, your body started to seal itself off, shut all the watertight doors. It began at your feet and slowly worked its way up until your whole body felt perfectly numb to everything. That little paper cut on your finger, it didn’t sting anymore. You watched it bleed with a hazy fascination and thought of the demon’s contract, of the red pen you had used to sign it.

“Why are you here?” Eddie asked, but his voice sounded so muted, so far away. It was like he was talking to you underwater.

You turned and stared at him with a queer gaze, as if perplexed. “You already asked me that.”

“Yeah, well… you never really answered.”

Because it doesn’t matter, you thought. None of it matters. I’ve already accepted that, Eddie. Why can’t you?

Your silence made him sigh. “I don’t get it,” he said under his breath. “Why can’t you answer one simple question? There’s a reason you joined, isn’t there? You didn’t just wake up one morning and decide you love roleplaying games. So what is it? Huh? Why’d you wanna join our campaign so bad?”

It was painful to think back on this moment now, knowing what you knew. Part of you wished that you had been born two years earlier. Maybe if you were a little older, a little wiser, you would have handled things differently.

But you weren’t older. You were twelve, and in way over your head. You weren’t prepared to handle situations like this. You were too young, too immature, too caught up in your own fears and feelings that you couldn’t see what now seemed so glaringly obvious.

It never occurred to you—not once, not even for a second—that maybe the reason Eddie so desperately needed your answer was the same reason you were so terrified to give it.

Maybe if you knew that, you wouldn’t have said what you said:

“My best friend’s at cheer camp. I needed something to do.”

Eddie cast his eyes up and away, as far away from you as he could. “So you were just bored, then?”

Your shoulders moved on their own, up and down. “Pretty much.”

Eddie took your answer and swallowed it down with a hard gulp. “Gotcha,” he said. “Well, that’s just… great. Yeah, that actually makes perfect sense.”

He hung his head and chuckled at that for a minute; then he started dragging his feet backward, toward the front door. His departing smile was sad and defeated.

“Well, I’m glad I was able to entertain you.” He pushed open the screen door and went out. “See ya around.”

“And do you know what the funny thing is?” you said to Chrissy now, as the memory faded away. “You know what really cracks me up? That should’ve been the end for me. Yeah, that should’ve been game over, insert a coin and try again, but for some bizarre reason, it wasn’t. Yeah, for some reason, he let me keep playing right where I left off. And I got really close this time, Chris. You would’ve been so proud of me. Victory was in sight. The grand prize was right there. All I had to do was reach out and take it.” You made a snatching motion with your hand, then curled your fingers into a fist. “And do you know what I did? I took it and threw it straight into the trash! Isn’t that hilarious? I mean, isn’t that just like me?”

You laughed out loud—a weak, strangled sound. “Fuck me, man!” you said, and wiped your hands across the dampened apples of your cheeks. “God, I need a shrink… Hey, maybe I should have your mom get me the number for hers ‘cause, lemme tell ya, that guy is doing wonders for her. Yeah, that woman’s just full of confidence now, isn’t she?” You gnashed your teeth and cursed. “God, I wanna fight your mom.”

Chrissy cracked a small smile but said nothing. Instead, she stepped forward and gently wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for one of those perfect, put-you-back-together hugs. Except this one wasn’t so perfect. This one was Scotch Tape when you really needed Super Glue. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it was strong enough to get you through the night in one piece.

Chrissy rested her head against yours. “Look,” she whispered, “I don’t know what happened and I don’t know what you did, but I’m sure it’s not too late to fix it.”

A tear escaped your eye when you heard that. “Yeah, but I think it is,” you said. “I chose to walk out that door, Chris, and now I think it’s closed for good.”

Chrissy released a compassionate sigh. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is the end. But you know what? Even if it is, I promise everything’s gonna be fine. Okay? No matter what happens, you’re gonna be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

You took a deep breath through your nose, exhaled through your mouth, and broke away. While drying your eyes, you said, “How am I supposed to survive college without you? I could barely make it through a single summer on my own, so I dunno how I’m gonna last four years.”

“You and me both,” Chrissy replied with a bittersweet smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

She wiped a tiny flake of mascara off your left cheek. Blushing, you quickly cleaned up the rest.

That’s when you noticed Jason Carver standing far off to the side, patiently waiting for the appropriate time to come over. Once you locked eyes, he took a tentative step toward you and said, “Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah,” Chrissy told him. “Everything’s fine now.”

“Good,” Jason said. Then he turned toward you. “Look, I’m really sorry for—”

You put up your hand. “Jason, it’s fine. I don’t like what you did, but I get why you did it, so… we’re good. Let’s just move on and try to enjoy the rest of the night, okay?”

Jason’s eyes softened with gratitude. “Sure. Thanks.”

He turned away and—

“But,” you rang out, drawing him back, “since you did kinda humiliate me in front of the entire class, I think I’m entitled to some compensation. Wouldn’t you agree? That’s why you’ll be buying me lunch every day for the rest of the year... and that includes all à la carte items, too. I do love those fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.”

Jason pursed his lips together. “The rest of the year, huh?”

“You can afford it,” you said, and his eyes narrowed with displeasure.

Jason opened his mouth to further protest… only to close it again when he heard Chrissy giggling quietly into her hand. He drank in her laughter with a crooked little smile and said to you, “All right, fine, you’ve got a deal. But you better not take advantage of it, okay?”

“Oh, I plan to. Wholeheartedly.” You put your hands behind your back and beamed at him.

Shortly after, Ms. Kelley came over and said it was time for all the nominees to gather on stage for the announcement of prom king and queen. Chrissy gave you a guilty look and seemed hesitant to go. You nudged her along with your elbow.

“Go,” you told her. “I’m fine, really. Go get your crown, superstar.”

“I don’t care about the crown.”

“I know you don’t, but I do… because I live vicariously through you, remember? I’m like a crazy stage mom and you’re my pageant queen daughter.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes amiably. “You’re such a goof.”

“I know,” you said, and laughed. “Now, don’t forget to act surprised when you win, okay? You wanna appear gracious and humble, but not too humble. Otherwise, you’ll be like Sally Field at the Oscars and everyone will think you’re a total whack job.”

You beckoned her closer and lowered your voice. “Oh, and please don’t let Jason hog the mic for too long, okay? You know how he gets when he has a captive audience. He just goes on and on and on… I mean, we’ll be stuck here all night.”

“I heard that,” said Jason, making you smirk.

“Hey, I’m just saying… keep it under a minute, Carver, or else I’ll have the DJ play you off the stage.”

For that, Jason shot you a playful glare. “Yeah, you’re definitely feeling better. Come on, Chris, let’s go.”

He led her away by her elbow. All the while, Chrissy looked back at you with a worried frown.

You made a shooing motion with your hand. “Go! Go! I’m fine now, I promise. Watch, I’m gonna go grab a cup of punch and then take my place among the rest of the commoners. Seriously, don’t worry about me, Chris. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Maybe if you said it enough, it would become true.

And maybe you would stop looking over your shoulder, hoping Eddie would be there.

It was nine fifty-eight. Only one more hour to go.

With your cup of punch in hand, you wandered over to Jeff’s table and found him and Grant conversing quietly while Megan Mulrooney lay snoring upon a bed of clumsily arranged chairs.

“Wow, Grant, looks like your date danced herself into a coma.”

Grant put his finger to his lips, then gestured toward his sleeping prom date. “If she wakes up, she’s gonna wanna dance again, and my feet can’t handle that, so…” He swept his hand across his mouth, pretending to seal it shut.

“Got it,” you said, and zipped your lips, too. You sat down next to Jeff. “So, your date still AWOL?”

“Mhm,” said Jeff with an unbothered nod. “You know who I saw her dancing with earlier?”

“Who?”

“Patrick McKinney.”

You put your hand over your mouth, feigning surprise. “How scandalous! Well, I guess we know who she’s going home with.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Jeff smiled at you, his eyes glowing with sympathy. “We saw what happened earlier. Man, that was tough to watch… How you holding up?”

“Eh, I’m okay,” you said. “Honestly, I don’t really care about that anymore. I mean, what the hell was I thinking, anyway? Chance Gallagher? The guy’s a dumbass. It’s a miracle he’s even graduating.”

Chuckling, you raised the plastic cup to your mouth and

This is kinda my last shot, y’know? If I don’t get that diploma this year, I’m gonna have to get my GED like every other Munson before me, and I really don’t wanna be another cliché…

felt your lips curl against the rim. This tender smile, unbidden and unexpected, remained on your face while you sipped your drink and cradled the cup against your chest.

To Jeff, you said, “You know, I never really thanked you.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me all these years. And for sticking your neck out for me.”

“Sticking my neck out? What, you mean back in middle school?”

You nodded, blushing.

Jeff and Grant exchanged bewildered looks. Then Jeff turned back to you with a huge grin. “What’s this?” he said. “You finally getting hit with some of that senior year nostalgia?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, you don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, right? I’d stick my neck out for you any day.” Jeff’s smile faded. When it returned, it was tinged with regret. “You know, I always felt kinda bad about how things ended that summer, and… well, I dunno… I guess I just wish I could’ve done more for you.”

You shook your head doubtfully. “You already did everything you could. I mean, you gave me a shot, right? It’s not your fault I missed.”

You frowned. All this talk was making your heart throb again; with every painful pulse, you could feel the Scotch Tape losing its grip and peeling away. You quickly finished the rest of your punch and slammed your empty cup on the table.

“Wow!” you said. “Look at me making sports analogies… I think I’ve been hanging out with Jason way too much.”

And now the DJ’s filler music was fading into silence. Principal Higgins had taken the stage and was struggling to adjust the height of the mic stand. Some of the students snickered. Principal Higgins gave them a twitchy little smile. Then he straightened his tie, cleared his throat into the mic, and jerked away from the sudden feedback whine.

“Umm, excuse me? Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”

Finally, you thought with a relieved sigh. You rose to your feet and pushed in your chair. “Well, looks like it’s time for me to head over. Enjoy the rest of your night, gentlemen. I’ll see you two on Monday.”

You waved goodbye, took a few steps and

“Hey, Y/N?”

turned back to look at Grant. “Yeah?”

“Look, this probably won’t help much, but I think it’s something you need to hear.” Grant rubbed his neck pensively for a minute. He glanced at Jeff and received an encouraging nod. “Umm, that day, I know Eddie said he was quitting the campaign and everything, but you gotta know he didn’t really mean it. He was just mad and needed to go home and blow off some steam. He came back for the next session.”

You sucked in a breath. “He did?”

“Yeah, he did,” said Grant, while Jeff looked at you with a pitying frown. “And, umm, obviously I can’t really say for sure, but… I think he was hoping you’d be there.”

“Really?” you said, and let Grant’s words sink in for a minute. “So, basically, you’re saying if I’d just sucked it up and gone to the next session, I might’ve—” You clenched your jaw tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to rip you apart. “Wow… You’re right, Grant, that didn’t help at all.”

You spun around and shouldered your way onto the dance floor, desperate to lose yourself among the gathering crowd. On stage, Principal Higgins was rambling about the future, talking about how far you’d all come, how you were about to move on to bigger and better things…

But I’m not ready to move on, you thought. Not yet. Not without—

You looked over your shoulder, squeezed your eyes shut, and turned back around.

God dammit! Why did I have to join that stupid campaign? If I hadn’t, maybe this would’ve been just another meaningless crush. Maybe I would’ve actually moved on during those two years. Maybe I would’ve noticed someone else. Been noticed by someone else. Shit, maybe I would’ve felt something when Teddy Brubacher kissed me at Katie McDillon’s New Year’s Eve party. Maybe he would’ve been my prom date tonight and—

You whipped around and hissed: “What? What, Teddy?”

Teddy Brubacher flinched away from you, startled. “Well, you were looking at me like you wanted me to come over.”

“What? No, I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you were. I saw you. You were beckoning me with your eyes.”

Teddy’s gaze shifted as he spoke, traveling lower and lower. Disgust churned in your stomach. Anger burned through you like fire. You squirmed away and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Oh my god, I was not beckoning you with my eyes, Teddy. I was just glancing in your general direction, okay? Now, can you please go bother someone else? I’m really not in the mood to talk to you right now.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you look like you’re about to cry.”

“Teddy, go!”

“All right, fine…” Teddy stuffed his hands in his pockets and sauntered away. “You know, maybe you should stop sending me so many mixed signals. Ever think of that?”

“What? I’m not sending you mixed signals. I’m not sending you any signals! I don’t like you, Teddy. I’ve never liked you. You’re a perverted little cretin that refuses to leave me alone. There. You happy now? Is that a clear enough signal for you?”

Teddy sneered at you. “God, you’re such a bitch.”

“Yeah, well…”

Your throat closed. For a moment, you thought you might break down and start sobbing right in the middle of the dance floor. You didn’t, but your eyes were wet and glistening like mirrors. You hid your face so no one would see and moved closer to the stage.

Keep it together, keep it together… You’re so close. Don’t fall apart now.

It was a quarter past ten, and you were unraveling.

But you put on a brave face for your best friend. Chrissy was standing off to the side with the other prom queen candidates: Sarah Twinley, Jennifer Warner, and Kara Scott. Chrissy didn’t know what to do with herself on stage. She kept shifting her weight around. Crossing her ankles. Folding and unfolding her arms. But all that fidgeting came to a stop when she spotted you in the crowd. Chrissy smiled and gave you a cute little wave. It was such a precious gesture, like a child waving at her parents during a school play. At that moment, all your problems seemed so insignificant.

Meanwhile, the rest of the students were growing restless. A boy cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted from the back row: “Come on, save the sappy shit for graduation. We wanna party!”

The crowd cheered and hollered. Principal Higgins motioned for silence.

“Quiet! Quiet, please. You can all return to your party in just a minute, but first let’s have a round of applause for this year’s prom court!” The audience applauded half-heartedly. Principal Higgins stepped away and began clapping himself. Then he drew a card from his breast pocket and returned to the mic. “All right, seniors, and now the moment you’ve all been waiting for… The votes are in. We counted them twice. Your 1986 Prom King and Queen are… drum roll, please… Jason CARVER and Chrissy CUNNINGHAM.”

Applause broke out and filled the hall, honest and proud. You were clapping from the third row, a placid smile tugging at your lips. Congratulations, Chris. No one deserves it more than you.

Jason and Chrissy stepped forward with gracious smiles. Sashes were draped over them. Crowns were brought out and placed on their heads. Chrissy’s landed a little crooked. She gently nudged it into place with her hand, then blinked as a bouquet of red roses was suddenly thrust upon her.

Principal Higgins boomed into the mic: “LET’S HEAR IT FOR YOUR KING AND QUEEN!”

Applause swelled and the crowd surged. All the basketball players were going wild. The cheerleaders were whooping and whistling with their fingers. You were still clapping, but no longer smiling. All the commotion was giving you a bit of a headache. Then an old, scratchy recording of the school fight song blared over the speakers, and you really started to get a headache.

Back on stage, Chrissy and Jason were posing for yearbook photos: flash after flash after flash. Chrissy’s smile kept slipping between shots. Her eyes darted around helplessly. She wanted to leave. She needed to leave. The lights were too bright. The music was too loud. And this stupid crown refused to stay put! It kept tipping and sliding down her head like it was trying to run away from her, like it knew she was a fraud—a false queen, who was undeserving of its majesty. Chrissy may have been able to fool her classmates, but she couldn’t fool the crown. It had weighed her, judged her, and declared her unworthy.

But still the applause came. It never stopped. The sound poured into Chrissy’s ears and made her feel dizzy, made her feel sick, made her want to pull away and…

And then she felt Jason’s gentle touch on her head, effortlessly gliding the stubborn crown back into place.

“There,” he said with a satisfied nod. “Much better… Man, that must’ve been driving you crazy, huh?”

Chrissy stared up at him, speechless.

“Thank you, by the way, for suffering through this with me. There’s no one else I’d rather be standing next to right now.”

Jason’s smile was confident and his eyes unwavering. Chrissy’s heart soared. She reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“What was that for?” Jason asked, bemused.

“Nothing,” Chrissy said, “I just feel the same way. Come on.”

She took his hand and led him across the stage, down the stairs, to the middle of the dance floor. The audience parted around them naturally, moving in great waves that rippled outward in every direction. You stood still, grounded like a stone. Then the applause died and the lights dimmed, covering the hall in a veil of shadow that made everything feel so painfully romantic. You sighed as it fell over you, and sighed again when the DJ played Cyndi Lauper’s famous bittersweet ballad, “Time After Time.”

It was ten twenty-three, and you were ready to leave.

You stole one last glimpse of your best friend’s smiling face and felt your chest clench with guilt. Sorry to bail on you early, Chris, but I toughed it out for as long as I could.

Now it was time to go home and put this night behind you. Take that long walk up your driveway. Drag your feet up those creaky porch steps. Swipe your hand along the top of the doorframe and hope with all your heart that your parents hadn’t moved the spare key like they always said they were going to, because you didn’t want to knock on the door and face your parents head-on. Have your dad look into your tear-filled eyes and say with panic in his voice, Oh my god, sweetie, what happened? Did someone hurt you? Yeah, because for him that was the worst possible thing that could have happened to you. That was his greatest fear. And then you would feel so embarrassed to admit the truth: No, Dad, nobody hurt me. Nobody wanted anything to do with me! And then you would run upstairs and spend the rest of the night crying into your pillow, just like you did back in middle school.

You weren’t going to do that tonight. You weren’t going to cry in front of your father. You weren’t going to sit through another one of your mother’s useless pep talks, listen to her blather on and on about how beautiful you were, inside and out, and how one day some lucky guy was going to see it. And when that happens, you’re gonna feel really silly for crying over some dumb school dance. Then you would smirk and say something witty and self-deprecating like, So you’re saying I’m gonna fall in love with a blind guy? And your mother would pretend to laugh and say, Yes, honey, and he’ll even think your jokes are funny.

No, you weren’t going to do any of that tonight because you weren’t that pathetic thirteen-year-old girl anymore. You were an adult and fully capable of accepting the consequences of your actions. You fucked up. You made a mistake. It happened. It’s over. Now all you wanted to do was suffer alone in silence.

So, with any luck, that spare key was going to be exactly where it was supposed to be. That way, you could unlock the door and slip inside like everything was fine.

Your mother would hear the door open and tell your father to turn down the volume on the TV. Then she would catch a glimpse of your shadow in the entryway and say, You’re home early. What happened? I thought you were going to the after-party with Chris.

Yeah, I was, but I’m just really tired. Too much dancing, I guess.

Oh… Well, did you have fun?

Yeah, I did.

Then your mother would smile, perhaps even get a little bit smug. See? I told you you’d have a good time, and that would break your heart all over again.

Yeah, you were right, Mom, you would say. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.

And you would think, It was so, so much worse.

Then you would tell your parents good night and go upstairs. Wash all the product out of your hair; clean the makeup off your face. Put on your comfiest pajamas, turn out the lights, crawl into bed, and listen to one of your Journey albums because, one way or another, you were going to have your Journey moment tonight. You just wished it was under better circumstances.

And while you lay in bed listening to Steve Perry sing “Only the Young,” while your tears dried on your cheeks and your wet hair drenched your pillow, your thoughts would eventually start to wander; then your eyes would start to wander… over to the tiny crack in your closet door, and suddenly a strange impulse would come over you. You would get up and start rummaging through your closet. Find your old D&D journal inside a cardboard box of long-forgotten keepsakes. Dust it off, flip through a couple of pages, and think,

I could’ve gone back.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake that thought from your head. You could’ve gone back. You could’ve gone back. The door wasn’t locked that day. It wasn’t. You could’ve opened it and walked through it, but you didn’t. Instead, you ran away and avoided the problem like you always did; told Scottie you were done with the campaign and spent the rest of the summer wasting away in your bedroom, alone, waiting for Chrissy to come home and put you back together again, because you thought the door was closed, locked, sealed away forever.

You

could’ve gone back

were wrong.

And that’s when you felt a hot burst of adrenaline shoot through your veins, making your whole body buzz with nervous, excited energy.

Well, shit! If you were wrong then, maybe you were wrong now. And now that you knew this, how could you possibly move forward?

I could’ve gone back.

This single intrusive thought was going to haunt you for the rest of your life: while you returned to class on Monday and begged your teacher to let you change seats; while you studied for finals; while you stood on stage and received your diploma, had the principal move the little tassel on your graduation cap; while you packed for college; while you unpacked for college; while you wandered around campus for the first time and discovered a D&D club flyer pinned to the student activity board; while you snuck a peek into one of their meetings, got caught, and said with a furious blush, Sorry, I think I’m in the wrong room.

Then, eventually, maybe in a month, maybe in a year, maybe in (God forbid) ten years, you were going to meet someone and—yep, sure enough, that thought was still going to be in the back of your mind. Even on your wedding day, it was going to be there. You could see it now so clearly: you standing at the alter in a white gown, staring at some sorry sonofabitch in a black tux; and right before you said, I do, you would pause for half a second and think,

I could’ve gone back.

I should’ve gone back.

I should’ve

I should

I…

Boom! Another blast of adrenaline. This one knocked you backwards and sent you crashing into another student.

“Oh, shit! I’m—”

You spun around and came face to face with Brittany Wirth’s snooty little smirk.

“Jeez,” she said, “walk much?”

“No,” you replied with a wide, open-mouthed grin. “Actually, this is my very first time. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

You walked away, giggling madly as you did. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m doing this. Wait, am I really doing this? Because this could end very badly for me. Yeah, I could be heading into a real shit storm right now…

And then you felt your legs get heavy, so heavy, and your steps gradually slowed to a stop. It was back again, just like that. With one thought, the anxiety had snuck back into your heart and seized it with a cold, crushing grip. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

What if you’re wrong? that little voice said. What if Eddie wants nothing to do with you now? What if he tells you to get lost and slams the door in your face?

God, that would suck, you thought. Yeah, I’m not sure I could handle that.

But then Chrissy’s words came back to you, quieting all your fears. No matter what happens, you’re gonna be fine, and you knew she was right.

Regardless of how this night ended, you were going to be just fine.

So you took a deep breath, picked up your feet, and kept walking. Pushed through the crowd. Flew past your empty table. Raced up the stairs and saw the door. The closed door.

Closed, but not locked.

You could still open it.

You would open it.

You surged forward… and suddenly Chance Gallagher was standing in front of you, blocking your path, smiling at you with those perfectly straight, blindly white teeth.

“Hey, I—”

“Yeah, you can fuck right off,” you said to Chance, and went around him. Then, over your shoulder: “Oh, and by the way, you owe me forty-five bucks, asshole!”

Laughter exploded from your chest, full and free. You surrendered to it willingly, eagerly, let it consume you, let it fill you, let it roll off your tongue, off your lips, and float into the air as you kept walking. Nervous as you were, you kept walking towards that door. And once you finally reached it, once you felt the cool metal handle beneath your fingertips, you

stopped.

It had stopped.

Cyndi Lauper.

Music.

The music, it had stopped.

Why had it stopped?

The entire hall was dead silent for a moment; then, suddenly, it was alive with the sound of hushed voices, sighs, and stifled laughter. You looked over your shoulder and felt your breath catch in your throat.

It was ten twenty-six, and Eddie Munson was on stage with the mic in his hand.

It took Principal Higgins all of five seconds to realize what was happening. He put down his punch, slid the silver flask back into his jacket, stormed the stage, and went straight for the microphone.

“Nope. Nope, we’re not doing this tonight. Come on, hand over the mic. Yeah, give it here, son. How about showing some respect for your fellow classmates, huh?”

Principal Higgins reached for the mic. Eddie yanked it away.

“Actually, I have tons of respect for my classmates,” Eddie told him. “That’s why I waited so patiently for you guys to finish. And you… yes, you, sir… you talked for a really, really long time, and now… yeah, now it’s my turn, so…”

Eddie raised the mic to his lips and turned back to the crowd, his eyes clear and focused.

Searching…

… and not finding.

“Well, shit,” Eddie said under his breath. The mic caught it anyway and drew contemptuous laughter from the audience. Eddie covered the mic with his hand, then flashed a sheepish smile in the principal’s direction. “Sorry,” he said. “Forgot the mic was on.”

Principal Higgins sighed, put his head in his hand, and started counting the days until graduation.

Meanwhile, Edith Layne was watching anxiously from the fourth row. She sank into herself like a frightened turtle and wondered if she was partly to blame for this disaster. Then she looked over at her prom co-chair and knew she was definitely going to get blamed for this. I’m just way too nice.

On the other side of the room, Brittany Wirth was clawing at her face in terror. Her prom… oh no, her picture-perfect prom! All those months she spent planning, obsessing over every little detail: picking the venue, planning the menu, buying all the decorations, folding all those little white place cards that everyone kept throwing on the floor!

This wasn’t supposed to be happening right now. She was supposed to be humming along with Cyndi Lauper and, instead, she was watching Eddie Munson light the torch and burn all her efforts to the ground!

No, this can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!

Brittany threw down her hands and growled. “Ugh, I knew it… I fucking knew it! I knew that freak was gonna pull a stunt like this.” She turned and took off like a charging bull, knocking everyone out of her path. “Outta my way. Outta my way! Move. Move!”

Brittany blew past you on the staircase and almost knocked you over.

“Jeez,” you said to her, “walk much?”

Brittany stopped and sucked in a startled gasp, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. “You’re part of the problem,” she whispered hotly, and then went scrambling up the stairs and out the door.

You watched Brittany go with a befuddled frown. “What did I do?”

Shrugging, you proceed down the stairs and started pushing your way toward the stage.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” Eddie said, staring at a wall of unamused and irritated faces, none so furious as Jason Carver in his gold sash and red velvet crown. Chrissy Cunningham was beside him, grimacing with second-hand embarrassment.

Sweat trickled down the back of Eddie’s neck. “Uhh… let’s have one more round of applause for the king and queen!” He lowered the mic and started beating his hand against his wrist, prompting half the audience to applaud in a stiff, awkward manner. “You two look great, by the way, with the sashes and the crowns. Yeah, they make you both look very… uhh… regal.”

Eddie let the mic fall to his side. It went thump, thump, thump against his thigh.

Down on the dance floor, Jason Carver had heard enough. “Man, this guy just can’t help himself, can he?” He lunged forward… only to be drawn back by Chrissy’s gentle but firm hand.

“Don’t,” she said. “Please?”

Jason gave her a confused look, but did as she asked. Then Chrissy stepped forward herself and started searching for you in the crowd. When she couldn’t find you, her heart sank with despair. Oh, no… please, no… tell me you didn’t really leave. You’ll hate yourself forever if you did.

And now Principal Higgins was trying to grab the mic again.

“All right, son, you’ve had your fun—”

Eddie thrust out his hand defensively and jumped back. “No, just wait, okay? Gimme a second, just one second. Look, I had a plan, and I know it’s kinda blowing up in my face right now, but I’m not getting off this stage until I say what I need to say, and I can’t say what I need to say until she gets here. Okay? So, with all due respect, right now I need you to back off and have a little patience, man, ‘cause she’s gonna be here soon. I know she’s gonna be here… or uhh, at least I hope she will.” Eddie pushed his hand through his hair and frowned. “Actually, she’s probably doing this on purpose ‘cause, between you and me, she’s kinda vindictive like that. Yeah, she just loves embarrassing me and, y’know, making me look like an asshole in front of everyone…”

And then you wedged yourself between two students and forced your way into the front row. Eddie found you instantly. His chest rose and fell in a deep, shaky breath. You crossed your arms in front of you and raised your hand in a timid, apologetic wave.

“Hi,” you mouthed.

“Hi,” Eddie said back.

Maybe it was due to the lights, maybe it was due to the intense rush of relief he felt when he finally saw you, but at that moment you never looked more beautiful.

Eddie’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. He cracked a tiny smile. “It’s funny,” he said into the mic. “I had this whole speech prepared, but now… yeah, now I can’t seem to remember any of it.” He breathed out a quiet laugh, then started tracing his bottom lip with his tongue. All the while, his eyes never left yours.

In the silence, someone shouted, “Get off the stage, freak!” and pockets of laughter broke out among the audience. You winced at the sound, turned, and saw Andy Hauffman give Clay Howard a high five.

Eddie acknowledged the boy’s comment with a bitter, resigned smirk. Then he immediately turned back to you.

“Y’know that word used to bother me a lot when I was younger, and I guess it still stings a little, but…” He slipped into a brooding silence for a moment, his expression reflecting years of loneliness and shame. “All my life, I’ve had people telling me to tone it down, telling me to stop, to ‘try to act more normal’… except you… yeah, for you, I wasn’t weird enough.” His face broke into a bright, misty-eyed smile. “And I wish I could put into words what that meant to me back then, what it still means to me now, ‘cause I think if you knew how I really felt, you’d understand why none of this makes any sense to me. You really thought I’d forget you? Man, I wish I could forget you. Yeah, I wish I could move on and, y’know, kill you off in my head, but no matter what I do, you refuse to die. I dunno, you’re like a zombie or something.”

You scrunched up your nose. Did this man seriously just compare you to an undead, flesh-eating monster?

Eddie saw your face and panicked. “Wait, hold on, that… I didn’t mean to say that. Yeah, I dunno why I…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep, deep breath. “Look, you were right. I came here tonight for someone else… but I stayed for you. I was gonna leave. Yeah, I was getting ready to go home and forget this night ever happened, but then you came running out those doors and you blew right past me, just bawling your eyes out. And I didn’t know why you were crying or why it bothered me so much, but I just knew I couldn’t leave you alone.”

Eddie’s words wrapped around your heart and squeezed so tightly, it made you want to cry. You thought back to the moment he came stumbling into the restroom. The way his eyes bulged when they met yours. You thought he was shocked to see you, but…

“Yeah… I lied,” he said. “See, I’m pretty good at thinking on my feet, too. Not nearly as good as you, of course, but I can hold my own.” Eddie chuckled a little to himself, his lips curling into that cheeky little grin that always made your brain short-circuit. “Security was never after me. I just made all that up. Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t even think security knows I’m here… well, now they probably do, which means I’ve got about thirty seconds before they come and give me the hook, so I better make this quick.”

Eddie glanced at the door, saw it swing open, then raced right back to you. The corner of his mouth lifted into a tranquil, tender-heartened smile.

“You said you robbed me of my one great memory, but you didn’t… you couldn’t… because you are my great memory. You’re my greatest memory.”

Your heart swelled, overflowing with more emotions than you could process: joy, gratitude, love… most of all, love. You stared up at Eddie with tears in your eyes, wanting nothing more than for him to jump down from the stage, take you in his arms, and kiss you right in front of everyone. If this was a movie like Pretty in Pink, that might have happened, and then you would have danced the night away in a kick-ass closing credit scene.

Unfortunately, this was reality, and in reality, perfect little moments like this always got ruined by big-haired, bumptious bitches like Brittany Wirth.

She marched into the hall with two security guards in tow, pointed at the stage, and said, “There. There he is. Now can you please get that jackass out of here?”

Eddie saw them coming and his shoulders sank in defeat. “Ah, shit, here we go…” His time had officially run out. He’d sung his last song and now they were about to drop the curtain on Eddie Munson’s one-man show.

But first… first, he had one last request to fulfill.

Eddie lifted the mic once more and smiled at you. “I know you really wanted to hear me play my guitar tonight, but uhh, given the circumstances, I hope this is the next best thing.”

He lowered the mic and let it drop to the floor, useless and mute. Over the speakers, a piano began softly, playing a simple but beautiful chord progression that made you clasp your hands over your mouth in surprise. It was “Open Arms.” You were finally getting your Journey moment. It took all your strength to keep from squealing like an idiot. You wanted to laugh. You wanted to cry. You wanted to smack the person next to you and say, See? The perfect prom song. Those bitches should’ve listened to me.

But you didn’t have time to do any of that because Eddie had climbed down from the stage and was about to be taken away by security.

A burly man in a blue suit said to him, “Come on, kid, it’s late. I’m really not in the mood to get physical with you. So how ‘bout you just leave quietly on your own and make my life a little easier, okay? There’s no need to cause a big scene.”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” said Brittany Wirth with an uppity little smirk.

The other guard turned to her. “Miss, please, let us handle this.”

Brittany’s face flushed a deep, rosy pink. She huffed and walked away.

“God, she’s such a bitch,” Eddie mumbled under his breath. Then to the guards, he said, “Look, I’m not here to argue with you guys, okay? I know I’m not supposed to be here, and I know it’s your job to keep guys like me out. It’s cool, I get it. We’re all on the same page. All I’m asking for is a little time to say goodbye to someone. That’s it. Just a quick goodbye and you guys can drag me on outta here. You can even cuff me, if you want.”

“Do we need to cuff you?”

“Well, no, I’m just…” Eddie dragged his eyes away, saw you, and grew restless, desperate to get to you. He clenched his jaw, clenched his fists, and let out a frustrated groan. “Look, you see that really pretty girl over there? She and I were having a very romantic moment, and you guys, uhh… yeah, you kinda ruined it, so the least you can do is let me go say bye to her.”

The guard heaved an exasperated sigh. “Kid, come on…”

“Hey, man, I’ve already been here for like three hours. What’s another three minutes, right?”

“You can’t stay here. You don’t have a ticket.”

That’s when your hand flew to your chest, and you gasped. “Yes, he does,” you said. “He has a ticket. I… I have his ticket.”

You dove into the bodice of your dress, causing the guards to avert their eyes.

“Uhh, miss…”

“Oh, what?” you said to them. “You think I’m gonna flash you or something? Relax, okay? I just didn’t feel like carrying around a purse all night.” You pulled out the ticket, walked over, and handed it to the blue suit. “There. See?”

The guard casually examined the ticket, front and back, then looked at you. “He’s your date?”

“Yep,” you said. “He’s my date.”

Eddie gestured toward you and said with a boastful grin, “I’m her date.”

The guard rolled his eyes and grumbled in response. He flipped the ticket back and forth one more time, glanced at his co-worker, and they both shrugged. “Whatever,” he said, “I don’t really care,” and they both left.

Eddie turned to you with grateful eyes. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Well, I figured it’s the least I could do…” You smiled up at him, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “That was quite the performance you gave back there. Highly entertaining.”

“Yeah, I thought might enjoy it…”

“Oh, I did,” you said. “Yeah, it’s definitely in my top three.”

“Your top three, huh?” Eddie fought back a smile. “And what, dare I ask, is number one?”

Your smile grew into a mischievous grin. “The speech you always give right before finals—you know, the one where you talk about flipping off the principal at graduation?” You bit your lip to keep from laughing, but ended up giggling anyway. “I swear, that speech gets funnier and funnier every year you don’t graduate. Turns out ‘84 wasn’t your year, Munson. Neither was ‘85.”

“Yeah, I guess they weren’t,” Eddie said while staring at you. “I’ve got a good feeling about this year, though.”

His soft, dreamy gaze made you blush.

Then he pointed toward the overhead speaker. “See, I got you Journey,” he said. “Wait, this is Journey, right?”

You laughed. “Yes, this is Journey.”

“Okay, good, ‘cause the DJ gave me a really weird look, probably ‘cause I don’t look like the kinda guy who would ever request Journey, which is fair… Anyway, since we’re on the topic of, uhh, Journey, I think you might be a little too obsessed with Steve Perry, which is cool and all, but uhh… yeah, we’re definitely gonna have to set some ground rules, y’know, once we actually start dating.”

Your heart jumped. “Dating?”

“Wait, I didn’t tell you? Shit, sorry, I’m getting a little ahead of myself.” Eddie folded his arms over his chest and gave a thoughtful nod. “Yeah, way I see it, I’ve gotta squeeze about four years of dating into like four months, so… yeah, I’ve definitely got my work cut out for me.”

“Four years, huh?” Inside, you were screaming. “You really think we would’ve been dating for that long?”

“Oh, you don’t think so? Well, I think so… Yeah, I definitely would’ve swooped in during your freshman year. No doubt in my mind. I mean, I would’ve given you a couple weeks to settle in. Then, when you least expected it…”

You made a motion with your hand. “Swoop.”

“Mhm,” Eddie said, and you both laughed. “So, I dunno what your plans are for the summer, but sorry, they’re all going out the window ‘cause I intend to monopolize all of your time.”

A giddy feeling rose within you. You had to sneak in a quick breath to calm yourself down. “Well, I’ve been warned.”

And that made him smirk. “I love how you’re trying really hard to act like you’re not happy right now, but I can easily tell you are, so…”

Eddie went quiet for a second, his eyes shifting back and forth in thought. Then, out of nowhere, he leaned toward you and said in a low voice, “Hey, you wanna get outta here?”

His deep brown eyes pulled you in like a magnet. “Yes,” you said, “definitely.”

“Good, ‘cause… honestly, I’ve been wanting to leave since I got here.”

“Yeah, me too,” you said breathlessly, unable to break his gaze. “I just, umm, I need to say goodbye to someone first.”

“Sure,” he replied with a nod. “Take your time. I’ll just be, uhh, waiting for you by the door.”

Eddie backed away from you slowly, giving you a lingering look that made you feel dizzy and light-headed. Once he was gone, you pressed your hands against your burning cheeks and thought, Oh my god! Oh my god!

You spun around and spotted Chrissy across the dance floor, watching you with the biggest, brightest smile. You rushed up to her and grabbed both her hands, squeezing them tightly with excitement.

“Hey, I’m…”

“Leaving, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I am…”

Chrissy’s eyes sparkled with unrestrained joy. She pulled you in for a tight hug and said to you, “See? I told you you’re the lottery.”

You pulled away and pecked her cheek. “You’re a goddess.”

“Oh, I like that…” Chrissy touched her face and grinned. “Yeah, let’s keep that one.”

You both giggled, hugged one last time, and broke away.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, you better!” Chrissy yelled, and then watched you leave with a warm, tender feeling in her heart.

Once you were out of earshot, Jason Carver leaned over and said to her, “You’re not seriously letting her leave with that guy, are you?”

And Chrissy said, “Yes... Yes, I am.” She smiled at him. “This was a good night.”

“You had fun?”

“Yeah… I did.”

Jason nodded, looked away, and smiled a little to himself. “Good.”

_________________________

PREV // CURRENT // EPILOGUE

*cries happy tears* It’s finally over!

Okay, I realize some of you may be disappointed that there was no big kiss at the end, but I left it out for two reasons: 1) they already had their kiss 2) it’s incredibly cliched, and I didn’t want to go that route. Don’t worry, though, because there will be plenty of kissing (and then some) in the epilogue “Post Prom,” which will be the first of many, many side stories I have planned for this fic.

Thank you so much for reading! ❤︎

#eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #chrissy x jason #stranger things 4 #st4 #dancing with myself #dwm #finale #ambrossart #it’s finally over!#I’m happy but also sad

803 notes · View notes

helpimstuckposting · 10 months

Text

I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

—

Ever since the Upside-down and Vecna and the world going to shit, Steve’s spent a lot of time roaming the bars inside and out of Hawkins. Once he’d finished with his dad’s liquor cabinet and the only liquor store in town stopped selling to him, he started being a regular at multiple establishments.

It was hard, after losing Max and El and Will and others Steve couldn’t think about without ripping open the wounds again. The portals were all closed, but at what cost? The world was technically saved, but Steve’s was a wreck. The metaphorical wounds were still ripped up and bleeding, fresh holes that would never quite stitch themselves over and heal.

His parents never came back, and he couldn’t even blame them, it’s not like he expected to be worth it to them. He was an adult now, on his own, there was no need for them to come back and pick him up. Honestly, he never wanted to see them again, didn’t really even know who they were. Steve had lived with practical strangers his whole life, made a semblance of family from skin and bone, and had it all ripped away from him.

Steve Harrington was always meant to be alone.

So he drank, went back to King Steve’s routes, used the alcohol to ground him while his mind drifted away to heaven or hell or wherever. It didn’t matter, because Steve never remembered the night before. The nightmares melted with the sunrise, the tremors and gasps, and flooding eyes gave way to cotton mouth and hunger in the daylight, and the blinding sun made it easier to forget all the bad things. Easier, but altogether impossible none the less.

So Steve didn’t quite remember how he ended up in the woods behind his house, dead leaves tangled in his hair and a particularly sharp twig shoved into his spine. He groaned against the sunlight blinding him through the branches and dug the stick out from under him, standing up on wobbling legs to trudge back inside. It wasn’t uncommon to find himself on his porch or lying in an old and tattered lounge chair, or even on a park bench some times. He wandered a lot. There was nothing else to do.

He still had money in his trust fund, still had his parents house to stay in, it wasn’t like anyone was knocking on his door to put him back together. Eddie was somewhere, in another state or wherever he ran off to. Again, Steve couldn’t blame him, either. Wayne wasn’t here anymore, there was no reason for Eddie to stay after everything. There wasn’t any reason for Steve to stay, but there wasn’t anywhere for him to go, either.

So he stayed. So he drank. So he blacked out and woke up outside sometimes.

He rested against a tree for a minute, trying to gain his bearings and see past the blinding sunlight, rubbing circles into his eyes until he saw sparks of white behind his eyelids. He was probably a mess, probably looked half dead, hadn’t been able to look into a mirror in months.

Blinking out into his backyard, he could see a bit better now but the world still wobbled on its axis just a bit. It would probably be another half hour until he was sober enough to see straight, but he wasn’t going to stay in the burning sun for that. He trekked across the dead grass of his yard, using passing lawn chairs and tables as crutches to make the distance more bearable, ignored the memories pressing at the edges of his mind and embraced the pain in his head to push the thoughts away.

The house seemed a bit cleaner on the inside than he last remembered, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t remember the last time he cleaned, but he couldn’t remember much of anything these days. That was the point, after all.

Steve rounded the hallway into the open arch of the kitchen entry — hoping he had some cereal left in the pantry somewhere, not brave enough to handle the stares and whispers he’d get at the diner or grocery store — when he was roughly slammed against the kitchen wall. His head swam with the abrupt movement, stomach churning uncomfortably. He blinked against the sudden impact, feeling one of his own kitchen knives at his throat; pressing, but not digging, a warning. The knife wobbled slightly before the grip righted, pressing just a bit stronger than before, a threat.

Steve opened his eyes, trying to get his brain back online in his hazy state. Putting the pieces together slowly. Brown hair. Curly. Angry eyes. A set grimace on his lips. Eddie Munson. The last time Eddie Munson had a sharp object to his neck, Steve was pinned to the wall of Reefer Rick’s boat house. Now, pinned to the wall of his own kitchen, Steve couldn’t pull his eyes away, couldn’t fathom what Eddie would be doing here, either.

“Eddie? What the fuck are you doing in my house?” He asked, pushing through the uncomfortable cotton mouth and stale alcohol taste on his tongue.

Eddie just stared at him, the hand fisted into Steve’s shirt tightening. He winced.

“Seriously dude, what are you doing?” Was he still asleep outside? Was he ever outside? What the hell did he drink last night?

Eddie kept staring, glaring, like Steve did something wrong again. Steve always did something wrong, he just couldn’t figure out what. The grip on his shirt tightened again, pinching Steve’s chest and clearing his head just a bit more. Definitely not a dream.

“Who are you?” Eddie growled out, shoving Steve harder into the wall.

Steve blinked. What? That was not the question Steve was expecting. Not that he was expecting any of this, really.

“Who. Are. You?” Eddie repeated.

“Steve. Harring-ton?” Steve replied, following the other man’s cadence, words dripping with confusion.

Eddie’s glare tightened like his grip, knife digging into his throat just a bit more. He was sure his brain should be screaming danger, danger, danger, but the fact that it was Eddie standing in front of him was throwing him way off kilter.

“Seriously, Eddie, what’s going on?” Steve begged, unsure if the confusion muddling his brain was because of the alcohol, lack of any decent nutrition for the past few months, or something else. Did he seriously miss something so big that had Eddie up in arms like this? He couldn’t possibly look so bad he was unrecognizable.

“Is this some kind of trick from Vecna? Hm? What are you?”

“Eddie, man, I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about!” Steve’s voice was gaining a more hysterical edge at this point, but it had no effect on Eddie what-so-ever. “I am so not sober enough for this, just tell me what’s going on!”

“Steve Harrington is dead!” Eddie yelled in his face, “Steve Harrington is dead, so what the fuck are you?”

—

If y’all have world building questions pls ask in the replies because maybe it’ll get me somewhere near a plot. Anyway, please enjoy sad lonely Steve

164 notes · View notes

dopelavender · 10 months

Text

Trapped by your love | Eddie Munson x Reader

•

A/N

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

Summary: Eddie breaks up with the reader because he feels he doesn't deserve her :(

Word count: 2.8 k

Warnings ⚠️ : Angst, a whole lotta angst; alcohol consumption, and more angst ig??

Note: hi my lovelies! let me know if you want part 2, so we don't end it on a cliffhanger and I can bring some joy into your lives after all this angst! enjoy! ♡ XO

•

Your eyes are closed. The cool night air is vibrating around you, alive with the energy of dozens of teenagers in motion, trying to drown their sorrows in cheap beer and good music. Every beat is rushing through you, pumping your blood and electrifying your muscles. Your movements are fluid, hands up in the air, letting themselves be led by the sweet melody that’s flooding your ears, blocking out everything else.

“We are strong

No one can tell us we're wrong

Searching our hearts for so long

Both of us knowing

Love is a battlefield.”

Pat Benatar’s emotional words resonate with your heavy heart. They fill your head, substituting the loud thoughts that have been eating away at you for the past months .All you want to feel is this moment, because anything else would hurt too bad. As if thinking that you’ve forgotten about them for too long, yesterday’s memories crawl their way back into your mind. You chug your warm beer, trying to make them go away but they’re still there, making your chest tighten. Oh god, not now, you think. The crowd suddenly becomes suffocating. You elbow and push your way through the sweaty bodies, making your way inside to the pub’s tiny bathroom.

The door shuts behind you with a slam, as your hands harshly grip the cold sink tile beneath them. Your head drops, arms shaking as tears start streaming down your face. It’s been too long since it happened, you should be fine by now. But wherever you go, whatever you do, he’s always in the back of your mind. The music is now a muffled sound, but you still manage to make out the words that twist the knife in your heart

“ You're making me go

Then making me stay

Why do you hurt me so bad?

It would help me to know

Do I stand in your way

Or am I the best thing you've had?”

It’s hard to enjoy the party. It’s hard to think straight. It’s hard to stop crying. It’s hard to breathe….without Eddie.

March 1986. 6 months earlier

“So what are you saying?” There was no way this could be happening right now. You try and remain stoic, but it’s impossible. Your tone was getting louder, emotions pouring out of every word. Maybe you just hadn’t understood what he was telling you. Sometimes things get mixed up without us wanting them to. You sit on the couch in Eddie’s living room, trying to work out the reason he was saying these things. Playing with your hands, you squeeze them tightly in hopes of grounding yourself.

“I’m saying… I- I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” Eddie was leaning against the wall, his eyes glued to the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. If he saw your beautiful face, the face he loved more than anything in this world, he knew he couldn’t go through with it. But because he loved you so much, he had to. He had to put an end to it. It wasn’t going anywhere. You had just graduated, top of your class. You could go to any college you desired, yet you chose to stay here in Hawkings, with him. Your future was glistening brightly ahead of you, and all he was doing was slowly dimming the light, until there was nothing left but despairing darkness.

His fate had been decided by the family he was born into. His mother bailed out before he could even remember her face and his old man had been in and out of prison his whole life. Uncle Wayne had been the only form of parental love the boy had ever known and he was breaking his back day in, day out, to put food on the table. Society hadn’t been kind to him either. He was hated and labelled as a freak. Eddie knew his life wouldn’t amount to anything big. As much as he despised it, he could slowly see himself turning into his father. After all, he was a worthless drug dealer, repeating his senior year for the third time, wasn’t he? He selfishly allowed himself to fall in love with you. But how couldn’t he, when you were the most precious soul he had ever met? Not falling in love with you seemed like a challenge many a man have failed yet and yet again. In the end, he had to face the truth: you were just too good for him, and nothing would change that.

“Eddie...I-I don’t understand...Did I do something?” You look up at Eddie with your heart silently breaking, wondering where it had all gone wrong. The room starts to feel too small. You get up from the old couch, grabbing Eddie’s hand to make him look at you. But he doesn’t. His eyes stay focused on the floor, curly locks of hair falling over his face, hiding the tears that were starting to build in his eyes. “Please, please just tell me what it is so we can fix it. We can fix anything, baby. Just please tell me, Eddie…” You let go of his hand and bring both your hands to his chest, sliding them up to cup his face. He gently removes them and pushes you away, his eyes finally meeting yours. Eddie’s heart sinks as he looks at you, fully transparent, with fear and sadness written all over your face. Fear and sadness he had caused.

“This just isn’t working. We’re not working anymore.” That’s a lie, he thinks The words leaving his mouth were in complete antithesis with his feelings. But he knows if he told you the truth, the real reason he was breaking up with you, you would never accept it. So he had to sell it, somehow.

“What do you mean?” Should you have known he was feeling this way? Now, when you think about it, Eddie had been distant these past few days. No cuddles, barely there kisses and fleeting, superficial touches. You didn’t think much of it, blaming it on your conflicting schedules. He was busy playing shows since his band “Corroded Coffin” started getting recognition around Hawkings and you were busy at the diner, working extra shifts to earn some more money, since you and Eddie had been talking about getting a place together. But it seems there was more to it than you thought. You close your eyes, take a deep breath in and slowly let it out as you prepare yourself for the worst “Do you not love me anymore?”

His gaze shifts uncomfortably, looking everywhere he possibly can just to avoid your eyes, now open and expecting an answer. Of course I love you! I love you so much it hurts, he thinks. Even so, he doesn’t say that. Instead, he lies to you “No. I don’t”.

Your eyes close again, you can’t seem to keep them open for too long. The reality you were faced with was just too agonising. You feel your nails digging into the flesh of your palms, your hands curled into tight fists. The pain will hopefully wake you up from this horrible nightmare. And when you wake up next to Eddie, he’s going to kiss your wet cheeks and whispers sweet nothings in your ear until you fall back asleep, safely wrapped in his arms, the way you did a hundred times before.

But this time, the nightmare doesn’t stop as you open your eyes.

“I think you should go” his head leans against the wall behind him, his Adam’s Apple moving up and down as he tries to undo the knot in his throat that’s making it hard for him to talk. Please don’t leave me, he thinks. Please see through my act. You always said you could read me like a book. So do it now, sweetheart. Read me.

“I’m not going anywhere” That’s my girl, Eddie thinks “I’m not going anywhere until you look me in the eyes and you tell me you don’t love me anymore” You see his head snap down, jaw clenching as he searches your face carefully. You swear you can see a shadow of fear in his eyes. Why would he be afraid, when he’s the one ending things so carelessly?

Oh no, oh no no no, he rages inside his head. Please don’t make me do that. I can’t do that, Y/N...

Your eyes never leave his face, waiting for Eddie to do what you asked of him. This all seems unreal. He swore he would never hurt you, and you believed him. You believed him with every ounce of your being because he was Eddie. Sweet, kind, loyal, goofy, loving Eddie. You didn’t know who this person standing in front of you was. But it sure as hell wasn’t the man you fell in love with.

He looks at you, even though you’re putting on a brave face, like you always do, he can see how vulnerable you are. Your hands come up and wrap around yourself. He wants nothing more than to stop this. To hug you and kiss you and tell you you’re his universe.

“Say it” you raise your voice. “Say it Eddie, and I’ll leave”. And you would. You would leave his life, if that’s what he wanted. But only if he said it. You know that Eddie could never look you in the eye and lie to you. So if he’s going to say it, he must really mean it.

Eddie pushes himself off the wall, stepping closer to you. You breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of cologne, cigarettes and weed, thinking it might be the last time.

Don’t say it, Munson. Be selfish, he thinks. Say it was all a mistake, drop to your knees and beg for her forgiveness. As much as he wants to, he knows he’s doing the right thing for you. As much as it kills him, he has to make you leave him, because he knows he could never leave you.

“I don’t love you anymore” His face is wooden as he looks you in the eyes. Confusion, anger and defeat infiltrate your bones. Your heart is scorched and spasming. He really didn’t love you. Your Eddie didn’t love you anymore.

He opens the door to his trailer, stepping aside to make room for you “Now leave.”

Present day

A loud banging noise on the door pulls you out of your reverie. “In a minute” you yell and look at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy, mascara running down your face. Well, aren’t you a sight to see? you think to yourself. You try your best to fix your makeup and pull yourself together before exiting the bathroom.

There’s a line of pissed off girls waiting outside the door, giving you dirty looks and making rude side comments as you walk past them “Jesus, how much coke did this bitch snort?” a redhead snickers. You ignore them and make your way to the bar, ordering another beer. You feel a bit of tension being relieved as the cold liquid pours down your throat, making you forget about everything for just a second. As quickly as it went away, it all comes flooding back in.

Breaking up with Eddie was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to go through. First, it was despair, excruciating pain that wouldn’t let you eat, sleep or do anything else than think about him. You called this the withdrawal stage. Every bone in your body was craving for him, and punishing you for not supplying. You figured you just had to sweat it out until he was out of your system. Although it was hard, you managed to make it through. But then came the dreams. Tortured dreams, reminiscent of your time spent with Eddie. You would dream about him laughing, embracing you, kissing you, making love to you, only to wake up heartbroken and alone, sobbing his name into your pillow. Now, it’s just this numbness and emptiness that never really goes away. It’s worse than the withdrawal or the dreams, because you’re starting to see things as they are. Before, there was a glimmer of hope that maybe you would get back together. But at this moment in time, you’re haunted by the thought of spending your life without Eddie by your side. And that’s something you would never be able to get used to.

These past few months have been a struggle trying to remember what life was like before Eddie. You go out with your friends, party, have meaningless one night stands and then do it all again the next day. It was all monotone, but for now, it was better than crying yourself to sleep.

Someone bumps into your back, making you stumble forward. You grab the countertop for stability and turn around, prepared to snap at the culprit.

“Hey, ass-“ your voice sticks in your throat when you see that familiar head of hair and that charming smile every girl in your high school used to swoon over. “Steve?” you stare at him, dumbfounded. For the first time in months, you actually feel true happiness.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” the very next second he pulls you into a tight, smothering hug, knocking the air out of you. As glad as you are to see him, and you truly are, it’s a bit difficult to breathe with Steve squeezing the life out of you.

“Steve-can’t-breathe…” you try and say, face buried into his chest. He lets go of you, but leaves his hands on your shoulders as if he can’t believe you’re actually there.

“Wow, look at ya! I almost didn’t recognise you, and I mean that in a good way” he smirks as he looks you up and down, taking in your outfit. Your style had changed a bit since the whole…Eddie thing. The colourful, decent pants and blouses being substituted by darker coloured, bolder dresses and skirts.

“So what’s up?” He finally lets go of you and motions for you to sit down in the stools.

“Nothing much. I’m here with some friends from college. But what about you? You’re quite a long way from Hawkings. What brings you here?” You see him shift uncomfortably in his seat at your question, picking at the label of the beer he had ordered for himself.

“Oh, uh…you don’t know?”

“Know what?” were you supposed to know something? “Ohmygod, did someone die? Is it Robin? It is, isn’t it? I always knew that clumsy lump would get herself killed one day!"

"What? No!" He stops your rambling

"Oh, thank God" you look at him relieved, with a hand over your chest "What's the occasion then?"

"Uh well you see-"

Steve gets interrupted by a mans hand on his shoulder. "Hey Steve, they're gonna start playing soon so you should come now if you wanna get a spot in the front"

"Right! Thanks man, I'll be right there" The man leaves and Steve's attention returns to you, his eyes still looking at you in a cautious and unsure manner. "Y/N, you really don't now who's playing tonight?"

"No, they usually don't have live bands and if they do I don't really care much for them, I just come for the bottomless Martinis and the cheap beer" you laugh, but Steve seems to be far from amused. "Why? Who's playing?"

As Steve opens his mouth to respond to you, he's interrupted by the sound of a guitar. An all to familiar voice speaks into the microphone, generating playback: "1,2,1,2…Alright, good evening ladies and gents. Hope you are all ready to rooock tonight, 'cause I know we are"

Your heart reacts before your brain, tightening at the voice you hear blasting through the speakers. Although you spend all your time fighting to forget that voice..it remains imprinted on your mind and soul.

You slowly turn around, looking to the stage at the back of the bar. "I am Eddie Munson and it is my pleasure to introduce to you... Corroded Coffin! Let's get it boys!"

To be continued

179 notes · View notes

rainylana · 2 years

Text

watching him graduate<3

“edward munson.”

you and dustin were the only people who truly knew how important this moment was for eddie. you squeezed the henderson boy’s hand, and he squeezed yours, eyes matching as they prickled with tears.

you seen his goofy smile stick out amongst the crowd, his curly hair bouncing as he strutted like a rockstar across the stage, cap, gown and all. he had talked about it for so long, like it was a dream that would never come true. he’d even talked about it when he was dying, bleeding out in the upside down.

those images flashed in your mind, and you knew they were in the boy next to you. of course, you’d always wanted this moment to become a reality for him, but as you sat there, eyes blurry and mind replaying images of sorrow, you’d never been so proud of him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #stranger things #stranger things season four #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot #i'm sad

1K notes · View notes

isimpfortoomanypeople · 2 years

Text

Winter Blues - Eddie Munson x Gn reader

Part 2

You thought that you found the perfect person, the one person who would love you no matter what. But why did he turn around and break up with you out of the blue? Returning back from winter break was always going to be hard but you didn’t expect for it to be this hard.

Warnings: a lot of angst, breakups, anxiety attacks, depression, smoking and Eddie being a massive dick (but there’s also Gareth being a supportive friend, he was only in a few scenes but he won my heart)

A/N: so when I said that I have a very angsty Eddie fic I wasn’t joking. For maximum angst you can listen to ‘bored’ by Billie Eilish, ‘I miss you I’m sorry’ Gracie Abrams and ‘let me down slowly’ by Alec Benjamin like I did while writing this and I made me cry. As someone who also uses they pronouns as well as she, I hope that this is okay for all readers but please let me know if I’ve made it too feminine and I’ll make changes ASAP . There maybe a part 2 but that’s if you guys like it enough to have a part 2. I’m from the U.K. so sorry if it sounds overly British in parts. Apologies for all spelling and grammatical mistakes as I’m super dyslexic, enjoy.

You sighed letting that breath out that you were holding in all morning while you waited in your car. You felt suffocated, every step until you reach Hawkins high made the air feel heavy and thick, till the point you were starting to feel lightheaded.

Where the fuck was Gareth?

You needed to escape this car as soon as you could as the world around you started to close in, the peripherals of your vision started to blur, the world started to spin as your body felt like it was dropping into this pit of anxiety. Fuck you really need to get out of this fucking car!

You started tapping the pads of your fingers together trying to calm yourself down, telling yourself that it was all going to be okay, even if it felt like the biggest lie you ever told.

Gareth hurry the fuck up!

“Hey” he greeted sliding himself in the passenger’s seat, “how are you?”

You couldn’t help but give him a glare as you scoffed at his stupidity, did he really need to ask that when the answer was so blatantly obvious?

“I know stupid question” he sighed looking at your scolding eyes that were bloodshot with purple bags adding to the picture of the little sleep you had gotten the night before. You looked so pale and fragile, only the shell remains of the person you once were.

It wasn’t everyday you had to see your ex who held the same social circles as you. The one person who you imagined that you could spend the rest of your life with, the one person who promise he would never hurt you. But that promise was as cheap as the cologne he wore.

All you needed to do was survive today then you can resume your daily routine of crying yourself to the very little sleep you’ll be receiving , crying till you throat throbbed red raw, sobbing till your voice became raspy and horse. Staring up at your ceiling praying for the pain to be over soon as each dreaded second ticked by.

You slammed the car door behind you, taking out the painful mixture of heartbreak and frustration you were feeling on the piece of metal. Stupid fucking Eddie Munson!

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“Okay as I can be when your heart got ripped out of your chest two weeks ago” you shrugged, no emotions was registered in your face. Maybe this pit of numbness that covered your body as a protective cloak, is better than feeling like you were dying in the most slowest painful way possible?

Gareth sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wish that he knew what was the right thing to say or do in this situation. He was your closest friend, he hates that you’re in pain but he can’t help but feel a little frustrated that he has spent the last two weeks of his winter break at your side helping you to pick up the pieces. He was sick of hearing Eddie’s name, Eddie was once his friend and his band mate but right now he wants nothing more than to take his guitar and hit it over his fucking head.

“Look I’ll see you at lunch”

“I’m gonna miss lunch, I don’t exactly feel like eating much at the moment” you weakly smiled at him, the ball of led in your stomach weighed it down making you feel nauseous and the thought of eating made the bile creep up your throat.

“Have you been eating?”

“Gareth please don’t start!”

“I will literally throw a sandwich in your face if I find out you haven’t eaten anything today” Gareth warned you, he didn’t mean the frustration that he has been swallowing down to come to the surface, but he couldn’t stand to see his friend destroy themselves over someone who wasn’t worth their tears.

Gazing at the floor, you kicked a rock with your foot. You felt like you’ve just been scolded for the worst thing possible, feeling this pang of guilt for also dragging your best friend down with you, you’ve never felt this level of heartbreak before so you didn’t know how to cope, especially when it feels like your whole world was ending.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that”

“It’s okay” you sighed, reaching into your bag pack for the fabric that almost burnt to touch, like the material was laced with poison. But then again the shirt was tainted with memories of him, “give this to Eddie at lunch”

“Your hellfire shirt! Are you seriously thinking about quitting Y/N? You loved it”

“I did love it, but my ex is literally the DM so I can’t exactly sit through a campaign right now” your voice cracked as the tears you desperately tried to bury deep down started to rise to the surface.

You felt relief flood your body when you heard the bell, it almost felt like a lifesaver protecting you from the pain of thinking about the club you use to love. The club that you use to look forward to every week, the club that brought you and Eddie together.

Nope! You pushed down these emotions with so much vigour you could feel the muscles in your throat strain.

You pushed the shirt into his arms, saying that you’d see him later as you ran towards the building, the sooner the day begins the sooner the day will end.

Ignoring all states you received at your ghostly appearance, your shoulders caving in to create a barrier hiding yourself from the outside world as you walked towards the classroom. Praying that no one would say a word to you as you most definitely will break down again.

Much to your luck, you didn’t share any classes together. The only interactions you used to share was him carrying your books to class, sitting by his side at lunch smiling at his passionate speeches about the latest campaign or about anti conformity, or at hellfire where he made sure you sat next to him where he’d place his hand on your thigh allowing you to play with his rings to help you concentrate more clearly on the campaign.

Leaning against a wooden post that kept the bleachers upright, you took a long drag of a cigarette. Feeling the softening of your muscles as the warmth circuited through your body, huddling against your denim jacket to keep out the harsh bitter winter winds.

Stubbing out the cigarette with your heel, turning to leave but you saw something in the corner of your eyes that made your heart drop.

No, no! This has to be some form of sick joke!

Tears burnt your eyes as the salty tears streamed down your cheeks. You body trembling as you held a hand to your mouth to muffle the sobs that wrecked through your body

There in the distance was Eddie who had his arm gently placed around the shoulder of no other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. She looked at the metal head with doting eyes, her cheeks blushing with either enchantment or the cold, it was hard to see from the distance but it made you feel sick to watch. His face held the same smile that was only reserved for you, well at least it used to be. The sort of smile that could make you melt in an instant, like you are the most beautiful thing that he ever had the privilege of seeing.

You couldn’t help the bitter laugh that came up, how fucking typical! The metal head and the cheerleader, what a sickening cliche.

And Chrissy out of all people, you couldn’t be more opposite if you tried. The golden girl of Hawkins, effortlessly beautiful in every way possible without a single flaw on her pristine body.

God this really hurts!

Two weeks, that was all it took for him to move on, for him to throw you to the wayside. Like these past 6 months meant nothing to him! Like every time he told you that you were the love of his life, no one else could compare to you he must of had his fingers crossed behind his back, because from you just witness he sure as hell didn’t mean a single word.

You had to lie to school nurse that you had a migraine for her to take pity on you and allow you to bunk the rest of the day off, lying in her office till you heard the final bell.

“Y/N, what happened I didn’t see you in chemistry?” Gareth questioned seeing you looking somehow worse than when he saw you last.

“He’s dating Chrissy” you muttered all emotion drained from you body from spending the afternoon balling your eyes out till you had no more tears left to cry.

“What! I’m going to fucking kill him” he growled, his eyes scanning the proximity of the car Park, if Eddie dared to show his face he would soon wish that he hasn’t

“Come on, let’s just go” opening your door and starting your engine wanting nothing more than to bury yourself in your blanket and hope that it could erase you from reality.

—————————————————————————-

A knock from your door took you away from staring at the ceiling wishing for your heart to mend itself together like Eddie never existed, or at least for him to feel the same amount of pain you were experiencing. As it unfair that he can just go on and not feel a thing while you felt like you were dying with each second that past by.

You opened the door to see the last person you cared to see.

“I heard you quit hellfire”

“Yeah I did, it’s kinda hard to still be a part of it when your ex is the DM”

“How are you?” He asked awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes not daring to meet yours, for if he did he would see the consequences of his own actions. The pain he caused you hung heavy within your eyes, for this was the first time in two weeks have you two seen each other.

“Do you really need to ask that?” You bitterly sneered at him, he looked taken back from your sudden attack but he had his arm around another person a few hours before like you didn’t exist, so he has definitely dug his own grave and he needs to lie in it.

“Look I know it hu-“

“I’m sure you know how bad it hurts, you broke up with me out of the blue. I thought everything was fine you even spent Christmas with me for Christ sake!” Your voice struggling to hide your pain as tears flooded your eyes clouding your vision

“We were fighting”

“All couples fight!” You seethed at him, you wanted to scream at his audacity that he thought that breaking up wit you after one small fight was worth throwing 6 months in the trash. You wiped the tears that spilt from your eyes taking a deep breath before continuing to speak. “I don’t understand how you can be fine after this, you told me that you loved me. Was that a fucking lie?”

“No of course it wasn’t” he sighed, trying to push down his own anger. This was stupid him even coming here

“It must have been, because you can move after two weeks. Do you know how much that hurts? Well it feels like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and has trampled upon. How long have you and Chrissy been dating?”

Eddie looked at you with his brown eyes wide in shock, he shook his head to made sure he heard you right.

“What?”

“I saw you together at lunch, you looked very cozy” it was taking every inch of you not to scream at him right now, your body turning ridged with anger, your brain was a frenzy of brutal flames.

“Well how do I know that you and Gareth aren’t dating?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well he’s been glaring at me all day, giving me shit and trying his damn hardest to make my life a living hell. Are you letting your boyfriend fight your own battles for you now?”

“Oh so I’m now dating Gareth because of what? Him being a fucking good friend? Are fucking kidding me right now!” You bitterly laughed at him, your voice laced with venom finally letting your pent up anger out. “Fuck you!, go to Chrissy and treat her well, better than you’ve treated me!”

You slammed the door in his face not allowing him to say another word to you. sliding down the wooded frame till you formed a ball on the floor. Allowing the tears to fall down your face. Letting out a strangled scream out of pain. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as the room started to close in.

Fuck you Eddie Munson!

A/N: I’m sorry I know it hurts, it hurt to write. So let me know if you want a part 2 and if you want to get back with Eddie after a lot of grovelling or you think you deserve better than him in this fic? It’ll help me to write the ending, thanks

#stranger things eddie #stranger things imagine #eddie stranger things #stranger things angst #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson sad #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x gn!reader

570 notes · View notes

veemunson86 · 5 months

Text

Love of my life

Uploading this story I'm writing on wattpad! Will post the masterlist soon!

Please bare with me, I've never uploaded to Tumblr before so I'm trying to figure this out. Any writers with tips, it would be very appreciated!!

Pt. 2

Love of my life masterlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

"Eddie no no no no- baby please stay with me-" y/n cried as she held her dying boyfriend in her arms. "Why did you have to come back?" You cried. He coughed a bit and leaned Into your touch "I didn't run this time y/n.. I did the right thing. I didn't run.. I always run.. I'm so tired of running.." you cried and held him "you should have run Eddie. I can't lose you. N-not now.." you sobbed. "I need you. We need you." You managed to get out. He put on a very weak smile "w-we??" He managed to ask "yes we.. I wanted to tell you this under better circumstances but... Eddie I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a dad. Which is why I need you to stay with me baby. Just alittle bit longer. Help is coming.' You cried and placed a kiss on his forhead.

He coughed a bit, blood slowly slipping from the corners of his lips. " I'm gonna be a dad?.." he asked weakly, tears in his eyes" yeah, you're gonna be a dad

" you cried out "so I need you to stay with me for just alittle bit longer. I'm gonna get you out of here, and we're gonna get you fixed up. A-and we're gonna get our own place, so we can raise her together." You cried softly qnd rubbed his cheek gently. " her? No way, it's gonna be a boy" he chuckled very weakly before coughing. "Y-y/n?" He asked "yes my love?" You answered." I-im so cold." You sobbed softly "no Eddie. You're not gonna leave me. Not now. You can't." You cried "stay with me."

"I love you ya know that right?" He said reaching up and brushing some hair out of his face." Yeah I know baby, I love you too. So much" he smiled the best he could "i-i wanna marry you someday. Here. " he slipped off one of his rings and places it in your hands "hold onto this. Because when I get better, I'm gonna get you a real ring. But this is just for now. Be mine forever y/n. Promise me." He said , softer and weaker with each work. "I promise eddie." You held him in your arms "I love you so much. " you said crying softly. " I see Dustin, and Steve. They're gonna help us get you out of- Eddie? Eddie!" You sobbed as you noticed his pale, blank expression. " Eddie baby! Please no!" You sobbed , pulling him closer to you.

Dustin and Steve paused in their tracks when they saw Eddie laying lifeless in your arms. The sight of you crying and screaming broke their hearts. But they knew it wasn't safe and they had to bring you back. They ran over,Steve trying to help you up" y/n we don't have much time, we need to go. Now" you sobbed "no I can't! I can't just leave him here!" You said in between sobs. Dustin teared up at the sight.

" y/n we need to go now." Dustin said grabbing your hand comfortingly" he's gone y/n.. we need to go." He said trying to keep himself from crying.

Everything moved in what seemed like slow motion as they pulled you back to the real world. You held the ring tightly in your hands, breathing heavily as you looked around his trailer.

*flashback*

" Eddie set me down!" You squealed as he picked you up, carrying you to his bed, laying you down and hovering over you" I love you y/n." That was the first time you heard those words come out of his mouth. "I love you too Eddie munson." You said pulling him in for a kiss.

*end of flashback*

You looked to the hallway leading to his room, tears streaming down your face." He was gonna be a dad.." Dustin and Steve looked shocked as they heard the words come out of your mouth." He would have been an amazing dad.. he always talked about having kids.. " Dustin hugged you. You hugged back, sobbing Into his arm." I-i can't do this alone. I can't do it without him Dustin. I'm scared.." you sobbed

Dustin tried his best to stay strong for you." Y/n you're not alone. He may be gone, but you have us. You can stay with me and my mom if you need, she loves you. She won't mind at all." He said, calming you.

You nodded a bit. Steve and you used to date before he dated Nancy, but after everything, it wasn't right. He was your best friend, and seeing you like this broke his heart.

"Come here." He said opening his arms. You went over and wrapped your arms around him, sobbing Into his chest "h-hes gone.. he's really gone .." you sobbed.

He was gone. He was really gone.

Tags:

#dad eddie munson #eddie munson angst #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagines #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson dad imagines #eddie munson sad imagines #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #dad!eddie #dad!eddie munson #eddie angst #eddie munson angst imagine

131 notes · View notes

mirkwoodmunson · 2 years

Text

pt1 pt2

eddie munson x f!reader

tw: cursing, feeling sick

oh, you’re sick?

that’s okay!

eddie’s coming over anyway, despite your protesting over the phone, and he claims to bring with him a treasure trove of cures and feel-goods. you had rolled your eyes, ‘cause what was more of a cure, more of a feel-good than the presence of a particular metalhead? you just didn’t wanna risk getting him sick, too — i’d feel so fucking bad eds!

“babygirl i’ll risk it if it means i can help you feel good for just a little while. okay?”

you’d retreated back into your room following the call, back into your cavern of blankets, ending up in and out of a heavy, clouded doze that fogged your already foggy mind. you didn’t even hear the tires squeal up outside, your front door opening and closing of its own accord (ohh he’d be scolding you for that later — leaving your door unlocked while you’re sick outta your mind, y/n, are you crazy, babe??), the gentle click of the knob of your bedroom door and a rustling of a plastic bag being set down.

you don’t start coming to till a calloused hand so so gently pushes hair away from your face and then cups your cheek, swipes over your forehead, tickles at your chin to stir your consciousness. you respond with a nasal-y, deeply tired moan, eyelids cracked but not open fully, unable to comprehend the figure in front of you and its comforting touch but it was comforting nonetheless, leaning into the pets and strokes and snuffling a noisy snuffle.

above you, eddie is just, racked with a desperate combination of being taken aback by how fucking cute you are right now and how loudly his heart is breaking with the consequences of why you look so fucking cute right now. doe eyes regard you sweetly, wide and adoring, and eddie keeps your chin aloft for just a moment as he very carefully sits beside your form and rests your head in his lap, into which you lean heavily — groaning softly and pushing your cheek into his warm thigh. oh his heart is fucking bouncing off the walls…

a hand moves to your back, slid beneath the blankets wrapped around you, and at first you whine and shiver at the chill in his palm but very quickly it warms to meet your high body temperature, and eddie begins these slow, deeply soothing rubs; up the middle and massaging your achy spine, then over your shoulder blades to rub and squeeze your shoulders, resting at the space between where most of your heat is lost and returning it to you as you shiver in drowsy delight. his other hand is at your hair, petting it back and away from your face, tucking it behind the shell of your ear so he can lean down and press the lightest of kisses to your temple, hovering there for a moment.

“y/n?” another light kiss, and you murmur softly. “you with me, honey?” his voice is low, gravely, but soft for you all the same.

“mmmnnnnnn…. mmm’ddiee..?” you shuffle into him, fussing and whining with your efforts, eddie accepting this gratefully with an adoring, breathy laugh.

“i’m here… i’m here…” he reassures.

#i Made myself sad i want this so bad rn?????#sickfic #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson x sick!reader #eddie munson sickfic #mine

465 notes · View notes

harrywavycurly · 10 months

Text

The Last Visit: An Eddie Munson Oneshot

TW: Death/dying, mentions of blood, cemetery

A/N: This is pure sadness, but like a tiny tiny tiny hint of happiness if you squint? I’ve had this idea in my head all day and it just seemed interesting and I hope y’all enjoy also sorry I didn’t edit it much I wrote it in one sitting✨

Eddie zips up his jacket as he walks down the worn out path, the only sound he hears is the crunching of leaves beneath his shoes and trees blowing in the slightly chilly autumn breeze. He looks around and can’t help but feel a little sad at how empty it is, he knows it’s an odd time to be here but still he feels as though he shouldn’t be the only one here every time he comes to visit. The moment he turns the corner his eyes land on the reason he’s here, the Hawkins cemetery, he smiles when he sees the flowers he put up last week are still there and haven’t blown away or dried out yet.

“Hey sweetheart.” he whispers as he places his hand on the cold stone. “Miss me?” He asks as he takes a seat on the bench in front of the headstone.

“It’s a little hard to miss someone who doesn’t ever really leave.” Your voice is as clear as day as you lean against the shiny marble stone that has your name etched on the front of it. Eddie just rolls his eyes as you playfully glare at him.

“I don’t want you to get lonely.” Eddie watches as you look around at all the headstones covering the ground of the cemetery.

“I’m not alone Eddie.” You explain as you walk around your headstone and pick up the flowers he had picked just for you. “It’s been six months.” Eddie looks down at his feet as you bring the flowers up to your nose so you can smell them. He doesn’t need to be reminded of how long you’ve been gone, he knows exactly how many weeks, days and hours it’s been since he lost you.

“It feels like it happened yesterday.” His voice is low and you know he’s a few moments from losing it by the way he runs a hand over his face and looks away from you. “I can still hear Harrington’s voice in my ear telling me you’re gone.” His voice cracks as you slide down the front of your headstone so you’re sitting with your back against it as the memories of your last few moments alive flood your mind.

“No no no.” Steve’s voice is frantic as he runs to the middle of the street in front of Family Video where you were headed to start your closing shift. “You’re okay.” You can tell by the way his eyes get wide as they scan over your face and your body that he’s lying. You can’t feel much as you lay in the middle of the intersection’s crosswalk, Steve carefully lifts your head so it’s resting in his lap.

“It’s just a scratch right?” You mumble and Steve just nods his head as a few tears slip down his cheeks.

“Yeah just a scratch.” He repeats as he grabs your hands and holds them in his, you can hear sirens in the distance but you know they’ll be too late because you can feel the warmth of the blood coming from your head now covering Steve’s lap.

“Tell him,” you find it hard to speak but Steve just holds onto you tighter as he nods to try to encourage you to keep going. “I love him so much.” You feel your eyes water as tears freely fall down your face. “And I’m sorry I won’t be home for dinner.” Steve looks away from you as he tries to hold himself together.

“I’ll tell him.” He promises as he looks at you one last time before you feel everything beginning to go dark. “It’s okay.” Is the last thing you hear Steve say before your eyes close for the last time.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say as you look over at Eddie who is already staring right back at you as a single tear rolls down your cheek. “But you can’t just keep coming here Eddie you need to try to move on.” Eddie lets out a sigh of frustration as he stands up.

“Move on? How the fuck am I supposed to move on when my wife was taken from me by some asshole on a random ass Tuesday afternoon on her way to work?” You let him get it all out because you know he’s been holding it in for a while. “It makes no fucking sense so that’s why I can’t move on.” He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at your headstone. “Why’d it have to be you? Of all the people in the world why are you the one that had to die that day?” You stand up and drop the flowers letting them land right in front of your name.

“It was going to happen eventually.” You know that’s not what he wanted to hear as he takes a step closer to your headstone. “You deserve to be out there living your life not hanging out with dead people.” You fight the urge to reach out and touch him but you know it’s pointless because he can’t feel you.

“You know she looks just like you.” You smile at the mention of your daughter. “Sometimes a little too much but in a good way.” Eddie reaches into his back pocket so he can grab his wallet.

“Better me than you right? Isn’t that what Wayne would say.” Eddie just chuckles as he shakes his head, he opens the wallet and holds up a photo of your little girl who just turned two almost three weeks ago. “If you needed a reason to move on and start living your life to the fullest you have the biggest one in your hand right now.” Eddie looks down at the photo and smiles at his little girl’s big goofy grin on her cake covered face. “She needs you.” You watch him bend down and place the photo next to the flowers by your headstone.

“I love you.” Eddie swallows back the lump in his throat as he looks at your name etched in the stone.

“I love you too.” You answer as you move so you’re back behind your headstone. “Moving on doesn’t mean you love my any less Eddie.” Eddie turns so he can look at you as you speak. “It just means you’re making room to let others in.” You give him your best reassuring smile making him just nod because you’re right, as usual. “This is our last visit.” Eddie knew this moment would come, where he’d stop being able to see you and it would become all too real that you’re actually gone.

“I’m not ready.” He knows he sounds like he’s begging but he doesn’t care, you feel his sadness and it’s overwhelming making tears flow down your cheeks. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You already are.” Your voice is soft and sweet as it flows into Eddie’s ears. “You’re going to be okay Eddie.” You look away from him as you begin yourself starting to fade. “I’ll check in on you two from time to time.” Eddie just nods as he wipes at his cheeks with the back of his wrist.

“I love you.” Is all he can saw as he watches you give him one last smile as you fade away and eventually disappear. “I’ll always love you.” He whispers as he places a hand on top of your headstone. He stays there for a few more minutes before he looks at his watch and sees it’s almost time for him to go pick his daughter up from your mom’s house so the two of them can go have dinner with Wayne.

“See you later sweetheart.” Is all he says before he turns and begins his walk back towards his car. Eddie knows this is the last time he’ll come visit you for a while and deep down he knows you’re somewhere smiling down at him because you’re right, he needs to start living life again but not just for himself but for the little girl that calls him dad.

204 notes · View notes

munson-memories · 1 year

Text

TW poverty, negl-ct, starv-tion? Referenced depression and lonliness

Wayne wouldnt eat readymeals because he wanted to retain some level of control over his life. Just because he was alone,didnt mean he wanted to be feeding himself just enough to get from one day to the next..

he was looking after himself, keeping himself together.

He didnt want to drop into a rutt and replay the same sad ballad he saw so many lonely men get trapped in.

Which payed off when Eddie needed someone who was stable.

Wayne home cooked but only lazy meals.

It was just him so it was still nothing fancy, mostly throwing canned vegetables and sort of pre prepared things together with seasonings to make it into something new.

But for Eddie, he gave him his first from scratch home cooked meal

and did so, every so many nights til they got older, when eddie gained more of an understanding of their living situation, with work and school.. and didnt care as much about what he ate, because this time, it was his choice to eat like shit.

#eddie and wayne munson #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcannon #uncle wayne munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #wayne munson headcanon #wayne munson #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson sad #tw poverty #tw neglect #¤-munson-memories-¤

90 notes · View notes

very-feral-lesbian · 2 years

Text

i dont know what y’all are talking about.

eddie is alive, him and steve are living happily and listening to the playlist eddie made for them in steve‘s bed. max is awake and her and lucas are going on their friday movie night date. mike stop being a douche and realized that, in fact, will was talking him the whole time. robin and nancy are away at college living their best little academic sapphic lives. joyce and hopper have a cute little quaint house in the woods, and they eat lasagna together with el who is living her best life. dustin and suzie talk every single night on the radio and they’re both happy.

thats :) how :) volume :) 2 :) ended :) right? :)

#stranger things spoilers #everyones happy and not dead #gay people exist and arent sad too!!!!!!!!#imagine!!!!!!!!!#steddie #byler #ronance #lumax #eleven jane hopper #dustin henderson #eddie munson is alive right!!!!!!!!!!!#jopper #stranger things season 4 #st4 volume 2 #st spoilers #in my universe the duffer bros arent lazy writers

525 notes · View notes

girasollake · 2 years

Text

promise | eddie munson

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the reader tries to save eddie and dustin from the bats, and she made a promise

warnings: reader's death, angst, sadness, mourning, mentions of blood and wounds, slight s4 e9 spoilers

type: angst

a/n: ummmmmmmmmmmmm yall gonna hate me for this one<3 this is my own idea so even if it hurts you i hope you'll like it! i am devastated after vol 2:)

word count: 1400

——————————————————-

The last sounds of Master of Puppets echoed throughout the Upside Down. Three of them were running into the camper to hide, the boy broke his leg falling from the roof. The other two helped him up and quickly shoved him first behind the gate. For a moment they were happy, overjoyed, adrenaline still running through their veins. They were laughing and smiling, they did they job, they were the perfect bait. However, their happiness didn’t last long when the vicious bats started to crawl through the vents, they did their best to stop them.

“We gotta go!” Dustin screamed at the top of his lungs and started moving towards the rope.

They helped him get on the rope first, his broken leg making it really hard and the bat screeches were getting louder. (Y/n) looked at the door, her hands still pushing Dustin upwards, next her gaze settled on Eddie’s face. It was filthy, dirt and mud all over it and yet it was still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She let go of Dustin which made him fall into Eddie’s arms.

“We’re not going to make it, I’ll hold them off and you get both of you out of here.” She said quickly.

“What? No, I’m not letting you do that, no way.” Eddie replied, his voice shaky.

“We don’t have a choice. I promise I’ll be okay, I want to see you graduate this year.” She lifted the corners of her lips.

The girl stormed out of the trailer quickly, spear in one hand, shield in the other. She started banging one into the other drawing attention of the monsters to herself.

“COME GET ME ASSHOLES!”

She was running so fast. She has never run faster in her life. She prayed that she had saved them, that they could cross to the other side. After some time her chest was burning, her legs were slowly going numb. Suddenly she stopped and faced the army of bats aiming at her. She was done running, it wasn’t going to take here anywhere. Keeping them busy with herself was better because she knew she couldn’t run for much longer even if she tried. They surrounded her from every side making circles around her fragile form, she was nothing compared to them. She started pushing them away with all the strength she had left, the spare hitting whatever it could.

Meanwhile Eddie did what he was supposed to, he got Dustin to the other side, safely. He put him on a chair where he could rest and then looked up into the gate in the ceiling.

“I can’t just leave her like that Henderson.” He whispered.

“She told you she would be fine! Come on, it’s (Y/n), you know she never breaks her promises!” He tried to make him stay, so hard.

“She should have already came back and I don’t see her here. I can’t lose her.” He said and then he started climbing.

“NO EDDIE! THAT’S A BAD IDEA!” The metalhead couldn’t hear him anymore, the only thing on his mind was his girl.

He took his own spare he had left in the Upside Down and hurried outside to help her. All this time he was reassuring himself that she was okay, that they had left her alone and she’s somewhere safe hiding. What he didn’t expect was to see her body being eaten and held by the bats.

“(Y/N)!!!!!!” He screamed at the top of his lungs.

The bats were eating her flesh, four of them holding down her legs and arms and one choking her with the tail. She was screaming in agony, her vision was blurry and she was angry. She was angry at herself, because she promised, she promised Eddie she would be okay. He didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve to lose her but she knew that without this they all could’ve ended up like that. All that mattered was that he was safe.

Eddie was running towards her and just before he reached his destination all of the bats drop lifelessly to the ground. (Y/n) wasn’t moving and he feared the worst.

“(Y/-), (Y/n)?” He whispered when he finally stood over her.

The image was atrocious, her blood was everywhere but then she looked at him and moved her hand up to hold his. He kneeled next to her and took her into his arms.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, oh god I was so worried. I’m going to get you to the hospital.” The words were flowing out of his mouth.

He started pulling her up but her groan stopped him.

“I just need to rest for a bit, then I’ll be okay.” She gave him a small smile with her bloodied lips. “Can you kiss me Eddie?” She whispered.

He responded with softly resting his lips on hers, the metallic taste didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“You sure you okay?” He kissed her temple. “You look pretty rough.” He chuckled.

She smiled and also let out a chuckle, her hand came up to caress his face gently.

“Graduate this year for me, okay?” A small tear fell down her cheek.

“What do you mean? You’re gonna be there, stop messing around.” His eyes started filling up with the warm liquid, the events slowly making themselves real in his mind.

“I love you Eddie Munson.”

“I love you too, you know I do. So much.” He said between his weeps, he tried to supress his cries but he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry I broke my promise.” She whispered and her head fell numb in Eddie’s embrace.

“No, no, no.” He started slowly shaking her body. “No, (Y/n), please no..” He cried so hard, his arms squeezing her the best he could.

He placed a kiss on her lips thinking this was just a joke. He thought she was playing and that she would wake up again. He didn’t want this to be real, he didn’t want to leave her there. His salty tears were falling down on her face and making soft marks on it.

“Please come back to me…” He whispered into her hair.

This was the last time he was able to smell her, hold her, kiss her. Their future plans got destroyed within seconds, he would never ask her to marry him, to move in with him, she was too young for this. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare or just maybe travel back in time and switch their places.

“Why’d you leave me?” He tried again but no one responded.

…

Eddie was so glad to have had his name cleared from all the accusations with the help of all of his friends. He really wanted 1986 to be his year and he made it his, but he couldn’t have done that without her. Just before he took his diploma he looked up to the sky and smiled. He got onto the stage and snatched the diploma from the principal and when he walked away he flipped him off. He run towards Dustin and the others embracing them in a hug. They all wanted to celebrate this but Eddie wanted to make one last stop before they headed to his trailer. Steve stopped the car at the cemetery, all of them already knowing what they are here for.

“I’ll be quick, thanks.” He patted Steve on the arm and wiggled out of his seat.

He knew the route to her grave by heart, he came there every other day, whenever he could. He sat down in front of the gravestone, he knew her body wasn’t underneath because they left her there, he couldn’t take her with him. Even with that he still had hope that she was sitting in front of him smiling, being proud of him.

“Um so.. I did it.” He took of his graduation cap and held it in his hands. “I wish you were here to see me. I mean I hope you saw me either way no matter where you are right now, god I so hope you did…I just…thank you. Thank you for helping me do this and believing in me. I promise I’ll do my best to make you proud of me.”

He wiped away the little tears streaming down his cheeks and stood up. Eddie placed his cap on the grave and whispered a quiet “I love you”.

taglist: @r93339 @stvrdustalexx @cursedandromedablack @ccosmic-illusion @luvwanda @justice4lils @heizenka @wolfstarsimpxx @miss-bloodbath @screambih @lyntic @freeshavocadoooo @laracrof7s @naturalswifty89 @bvmbshell @alainabooks143 @squidwardsluverxx @phantomxoxo @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @stilesks @ilovedilfs32 @kaitlin-r130 @greengarsstuff @axen-gers @088i880 @ilovefictionalbrunettes

#stranger things #imagine #x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #iamsosorry #iamheartbrokenafterstrangerthings #sadness #eddie munson imagine

593 notes · View notes

bizaar · 2 years

Text

Cruel Summer - Part 6

First - Previous - Next

pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…

word count: 15k (YIKES)

warnings: swearing, mentions/descriptions of child/spousal abuse, death, funerals, grief, ANGST, panic attacks, fluff, allusions to sex and smuttiness towards the end of the chapter

A.N.: Babysitter!reader part six is here! This one is a MAMMOTH you guys I was gonna cut it down but you all gave me some pretty positive feedback about long chapters so... here you go :) Wayne Munson continues to be the best man in Hawkins, meanwhile, Eddie's father is the literal worst -- Eddie has TRAUMA

I'm gonna be sad about the Munsons for the rest of my life

Hellfire met and played at the Munson trailer for the better part of a month before the drama room finally became available again. Eddie could not have been more relieved if Publisher’s Clearing House had shown up on his doorstep with a million-dollar check. It was only three sessions, considering the club only officially met on Fridays, but each and every one of them had been punctuated by a special kind of weirdness that Eddie could not stomach another second of.

He’s never been so happy to be back on school grounds.

First and foremost, Gareth had been correct. Wayne was very clear that he didn’t want them playing D&D in the trailer anymore, not after a particularly rowdy session had seen Jeff and Adam engaging in a wrestling match that ended with them falling over and absolutely decimating an antique coffee table that had belonged to Eddie’s grandmother.

Eddie damn near pulled his hair out over it, considering it was arguably the nicest piece of furniture they owned and something Wayne had been very careful about preserving, scratches and water rings and all. The moment only got worse from there, as before Eddie could even finish saying “oh shit—you guys, my uncle is gonna kill me!”, there was Wayne, stepping in through the door mere seconds after the table collapsed … well, exploded was probably the better word to describe what had happened to it when Jeff and Adam came crashing down with all their collective weight like they thought they were a pair of pro-wrestlers or something.

Pair of assholes, more like.

It would have been hilarious if it had been any other piece of furniture in any other house, but then that was just Eddie’s luck, wasn’t it? That it would be the single piece of furniture they owned that his uncle was precious about.

Eddie never met her, considering his father was all but disowned by everyone but Wayne by the time he was born, but he knew well enough that his uncle was a mama’s boy through and through, and Grandma Munson was revered in that household, even in death. What few remaining heirlooms of hers there were that hadn’t been pawned or lost to time were tantamount to sacred, so needless to say, Eddie was in deep shit.

Wayne stood surveying the scene as the smoke cleared – dice, pages, and character maquettes scattered to the wind, sweaty teen boys still wrapped in the vice of their wrassling, laying amidst the rubble of Munson family heirlooms – and he miraculously did not kill his nephew. He did, however, breathe out hard through his nose and go right back out to chain smoke and try to calm down.

Wayne didn’t get mad easily, his temper was a slow-burning fuse in contrast to his volatile younger brother’s, but still, it made Eddie panicky. Being in trouble with Wayne was an exercise in “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed,” and arguably worse than any insult or abuse his father could have hurled at him in the same situation. Eddie would have given blood to avoid finding himself in the line of those big, sad eyes as he rushed everyone out and did his best to clean up and piece the table back together. The effort was in vain, there was no saving the table and no amount of apologies could save Eddie from the long tired sigh of disappointment Wayne heaved when he finally came back inside.

Wayne didn’t have many hard rules – respect the space, don’t do anything too stupid while he’s gone, do your damn dishes – but that night he made a new one. No more D&D in the trailer. Eddie promised, though more importantly, they shook on it, which was binding among Munson men. Of course, the nasty little problem there was that Eddie had also sworn to himself that he would never set foot in Benny’s diner ever again, not even if his life depended on it … not even if he thought he was going to find you there.

He honestly didn’t think he could physically make himself go through that door, and he was panicking about it, because how was he supposed to explain that to anyone?

How to explain that even after ten years, the diner was still so stifling with the lingering atmosphere of his mother’s presence that he couldn’t breathe? Too many memories of days after school spent waiting while she moved back and forth behind the counter, hours and hours sitting in the squishy pleather booths doing his homework (when he still did his homework) or perched on his knees on the rickety stools and spinning around and around and around until he couldn’t see straight. Watching the clock and counting the minutes left in her shift, walking home hand in hand, telling her about his day, and enjoying a brief interval of peace before his father got home.

Enough time has passed that those days are fuzzy now, bright little jewels of memory that have turned to sepia-toned shards of glass embedded in his mind. They are still painful enough to keep Eddie away from the diner permanently. How is he supposed to explain that he’s afraid he’ll taint what is left of those memories if he returns as he is now, so far removed from the version of himself that his mother knew? The best version of himself.

He can’t do it. He won’t.

So he swallows his pride and calls Wayne at the plant and begs him – literally begs – to let Hellfire play in the trailer. He doesn’t know precisely what it is that wins his uncle over, maybe he’d blown the whole coffee table thing out of proportion in his mind and Wayne wasn’t actually that upset about it (he was) or maybe it is just because he just thinks Eddie really needs a win after the last few months, with you and what happened that afternoon at Rick’s and not graduating again (he really hopes it isn’t that, despite how stridently true it is) — really what is the harm in letting them play a little D&D? Especially after Eddie’s long, drawn-out spiel about how he swears they will be on their best behavior and they won’t get too rowdy or make a mess and he’ll make sure everyone uses coasters if he wants them to, and Wayne listens to his nephew talk a mile a minute before finally cutting him off mid-stream — because they aren’t the type of people who worry about things like coasters — and he relents.

“Take a breath, Bud, it’s alright. You can bring your friends over.”

And Eddie practically sobs with relief, which is embarrassing, but it had been a very tense few hours fighting off panic attacks and wrestling with the very real thought of canceling Hellfire entirely just to try and avoid ever having to set foot in that diner again.

Somehow he gets the sense that Wayne knows all this because he’s always had that weird sort of omniscience that parents have when it comes to their kids (good parents, at least) even though Wayne is not his dad and Eddie is not his son – Wayne always seems to know exactly what’s wrong with him at any given moment and it would be maddeningly frustrating if Eddie didn’t rely upon it completely.

The Munsons have never been good at talking about their feelings, and Eddie feels so much all the time.

He thanks Wayne profusely and swears he’s going to make it up to him.

“Just don’t let the big guy break any more furniture.” Wayne huffs down the line, wrenching a watery laugh from somewhere deep inside Eddie.

He would have said something smart about how the only thing that’s going to get broken is Jeff’s neck if he doesn’t behave himself, but he’s already too far gone in his memories as he hangs up and switches over to autopilot to go about getting the place ready for guests…

It was late summer, 1977, and Eddie sat on the steps of Wayne’s trailer, back when it was just that, before it was home— sulking because she was leaving him there again.

It wasn’t her fault, and he didn’t blame her, because he knew she didn’t have any other choice.

Still, he did not want her to go.

His father had gotten himself arrested again, for dealing or boosting a car or any number of his other nefarious pastimes, and his mother was preparing to go through the long, arduous process of bailing him out. That meant Eddie would be spending the night on the couch at Uncle Wayne’s, and while those nights were never bad — it was all television and take out and the novelty of being treated like an adult without being scandalized in the process, like when he was nine and his father took him out to a strip club on the interstate (it was the angriest Eddie had ever seen his mother – she’d blown a gasket) – it was always just the circumstances that sent him to Wayne’s that Eddie hated.

His mother sat crouched in front of him on the stairs and pinched and poked and tried to make him smile. She always teased just a bit too much when things were bad, always told him he was too young to be so serious.

He pouted and told her that she ought to just leave his old man there to rot, not for the first time (though unknowingly the last). She’d wrinkled her nose and agreed with him, pulling him forward by his elbows to wrap her arms around him and blow a raspberry into his cheek. He would have told her he was too old to be treated like that, but in spite of himself, he snorted with laughter and let his mother kiss the offended flesh before standing to talk to Wayne.

Eddie felt the brief warmth of humor give way to anxiety tugging at his heart and covered his ears – he didn’t want to hear her say anything too serious. Serious on Eddie’s mother was always too close to sad, and he hated when she was sad (too many mornings sitting and watching her try to mask last night’s bruises with caked on cover-up, biting back tears and doing her best to smile for him.)

Her voice was hushed and thick with emotion as she spoke.

“I’ll be back when I can, but…” he heard her suck in a sharp breath, “I don’t know, Wayne, it just — it took so long the last time –”

Wayne cut her off, patting her on the shoulder and speaking in a soft, reassuring voice.

“I know, Darlin’. You take as long as you need,” and then he made a point to perk up, raise his voice to try and make himself sound chipper, for Eddie’s sake – chipper is an emotion that has never worked on Wayne. “We’re gonna be just fine. It’s gonna be fun. Right, Bud?”

He nudged Eddie gently with the toe of his boot, but the only response he could muster was a dejected sigh, propping his head up with his fists, elbows perched on skinned knees.

He reached down to ruffle his hair and Eddie jerked moodily out of his touch and buried his face in his knees as his mother tut-tutted him.

“Hair’s gettin’ real long…” Wayne mused, sucking his teeth, “Maybe we’ll give you a trim while your mama’s gone,”

The thought of it set Eddie’s heart beating at a pace – his father was always trying to cut his hair, spitting hateful slurs and insults about the “kind of men kept their hair long” – thankfully, his mother spoke up.

“Oh, no, don’t.” She said quickly, reaching down and running her fingers fondly through Eddie's curls, “We like it long, right, Baby?”

He didn’t answer, but he could feel her looking at him, waiting patiently. A sprig of defiance wormed its way up through his midsection, and Eddie decided he would stay quiet for the rest of his life if he had to.

His mother just sighed – she didn’t have time for a tantrum, the one his father was sure to throw was arguably worse than the one Eddie was kicking up. She had to go, so she turned on her heel and started down the gravel drive.

“I’ll be back soon. Love you, Teddy Bear!” She called, waving over her shoulder— her massive collection of keychains jangled loudly as Eddie peeked up from his knees to watch her make her way back to the car.

The Munsons were all packrats in their own way – his mother collected keychains and magnets, Wayne collected novelty mugs and baseball caps, and his father collected felonies and arrests… Eddie supposes now that he collects regrets. He wishes he’d done more to commit her to memory, he wishes he’d done something to make her stay…

“I love you!” She said again, louder, stretching the phrase lyrically and trying to bait him.

He wired his jaw shut – maybe if he didn’t say it back she’d stay until he did. Maybe he’d never say it again and she’d never leave him.

Still, a sudden spike of anxiety flared in his chest as something screamed at him to call out to her, make her turn around and look at him one more time. Just in case.

Just in case what? Just in case you never see her again.

“Don’t let him drive!” Eddie shouted at his mother’s back, pushing up to stand on the steps like if somehow he were a little taller it would help drive the message home.

Don’t go. Don’t go. Please, don’t go.

She stopped as she pulled the driver’s side door open and smiled – a wry, crooked thing that indented her cheeks with dimples.

“I never do.”

She winked, and slipped in behind the wheel and out of his life because no matter what she assured him, she didn’t ultimately have a say in who drove home that night, no matter what his father had taken or how fucked up he was.

He drove. They crashed. She died.

The funeral was open casket, and Eddie refused to move from his seat. He didn’t want to see her, not like that – he wanted her here, smiling and laughing and teasing too much and collecting stupid novelty keychains and breathing, not cold in the fucking coffin his father had put her in.

The son of a bitch had tried to drag him up there to “pay his respects”. He seized him by the scruff and told him not to be a pussy, but his arm was in a sling from the accident and he couldn’t get a good enough grip on Eddie to hold him to the spot when Wayne stepped in and pulled his brother aside for an extremely tense, hushed conversation.

The repast had been at Benny’s because she’d worked there long enough that the staff was like family and their house was too small to host. His father somehow managed to get himself completely blackout drunk, despite the lack of any booze being served, and made a huge scene – like he always did, and Eddie sat there trying to endure the violence of his hatred for the man.

Why couldn’t he have just let her drive? Why did it have to be her? Why hadn’t she been wearing her seatbelt? Why why why…

His grief was too big, he didn’t know what to do with it or where to put it, and it made Eddie so angry. Angrier than he had ever been in his life. It made him brave— or perhaps vitriolic— and when his father shouted and slurred and swatted at him like he always did, Eddie grit his teeth and spat the venom right back.

For all the times he’d sat helpless, for all the times she’d sent him to run and hide, he finally stood up.

He paid for it, of course, with a hard crack to the face that knocked him right back down, and before his brain could stop rattling around his skull enough to catch up to his body, Eddie hit one of the first of many hard limits he would pass with the old man over the next few years.

With a bloodied, broken nose, he bolted from the diner and ran all the way out to the interstate. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he meant to get as far away as humanly possible, from his father, from Hawkins, from his grief and the terrible life he knew he surely faced without his mother to act as a buffer. Even at eleven years old, he knew he didn’t have a chance if he stayed.

This town would kill him if he stayed.

The first and only car to pull up beside him had been a rusty pickup – it was Wayne, because of course it was, and he rolled alongside Eddie in the truck at a glacial pace on the shoulder of the wrong side of the road for the better part of twenty-five minutes as he tried to talk his nephew down.

Eddie continued to walk, wiping blood and tears on the sleeve of his suit jacket and refusing to be coaxed into the cab until he’d learned that the cops had picked his father up and he wouldn’t have to go home that night. When Eddie finally relented and climbed up into the passenger seat, he saw that Wayne’s knuckles were cracked, swollen, and bleeding on the steering wheel.

He didn’t have to ask to know what had happened – he hoped his father hadn’t been too drunk to feel every second of the beating Wayne had given him — Eddie hoped it hurt as bad as it did when Wayne set his broken nose later that night, sitting perched on the edge of the sink, gritting his teeth and biting back tears.

It would be another two and a half years of days like that before the old man would finally go to prison.

With Wayne’s blessing, Hellfire resumed at the Munson trailer, and by 8:30 that Friday in April, everyone was piled into the little living room, huddled around the replacement, decidedly less nice coffee table, and Eddie could finally breathe again.

Except that Jeff was fully committing to the bit of being bizarrely hostile, in his own completely non-threatening way. Eddie thought it was exceedingly strange – and more than a little rude considering he would have been meek as a mouse if he had found himself allowed back into a home where he’d so unceremoniously destroyed a treasured piece of antique furniture, but he couldn’t really kick up the gusto to be angry about it, because Jeff was being hostile no matter where they were.

“Hey, what the fuck is Jeff’s problem?” He’d asked Gareth one day, sitting huddled over his notebook in the back of second-period English Lit while Mrs. Faulkner droned on about some old dead guy.

Proust or some shit.

Gareth had merely shrugged his flannel-clad shoulders in feigned ignorance and done his best to look innocent as the color drained from his face and his eyes went wide. Of course, that reaction suggested he knew exactly what Jeff’s problem was, but the old harpy had screeched a warning at them about cross chatter and threatened detention from the blackboard before Eddie could press him further on it.

The issue with doing everything with the same group of people is that when you have a problem with one of them, you have to see them everywhere you go. Jeff is a member of the Hellfire Club as well as Corroded Coffin, so Eddie has to deal with his snarky, backhanded remarks pretty much wherever he goes.

It is, at best, mildly annoying and at worst, deeply confusing.

Eddie can’t wrap his head around the shift in his attitude, except that once, when you were still very new to each other — the first time he’d ever brought you to hang out with the guys as his officially official girlfriend, in fact — Jeff had pulled him aside at the end of the night and drunkenly warned Eddie that if he ever hurt you, he would kill him.

It had been an intense and slightly off-putting way to end what had been a generally pleasant evening, but Eddie had just chalked that up to Jeff being… well, Jeff. Poor social skills and all too easily impressed by nice girls who showed him even the slightest bit of kindness or attention.

You’d laughed about it on the car ride home, not unkindly, though. You thought his crush on you was sweet, like the crush the kid you babysat had on you. And then you’d sat in the car eating ice cream and discussing life’s most important questions; who would win in a fight – Jeff or Eddie...

Eddie had just been happy to get to share you with his friends and integrate you into the group without it being weird so that he didn’t have to parcel out his time between the band, D&D, and you.

He knows you would have won out over his friends every time, though he’s not sure they could have held it against you.

He used to love how much they loved you until he told everyone about the breakup.

He’d said it was mutual, and maybe he’d let them believe that it had been more your idea than his — he doesn’t know why, maybe he’d thought it would be easier to stomach if he could manage to be pissed at you, but he couldn’t muster it and it didn’t make him feel any better to say it.

Despite everything, Eddie can’t help but shake the feeling that all of his friends have taken your side. Somehow they know he hurt you, and he supposes if Jeff had meant he was going to annoy him to death it’s working marvelously.

And then there’s Dustin.

Dustin Henderson, who spends all his time talking about his babysitter and hangs out with that pretentious douche Steve Harrington when he isn’t following Eddie around like a lovesick puppy.

He can’t deny he has a soft spot for the kid, even if he is annoying as hell, and Eddie does feel bad about biting his head off over the whole situation with the diner. He’d thought it was actually very cool that the kid even tried to find them an alternate place to play, and he’d been sincere in his apology at the campus phone, but he also knows he’d gone a little overboard in the teasing, especially with that bizarre conversation with Dustin’s babysitter that followed.

It hadn’t been Eddie’s fault, not entirely.

He’d already been feeling too manic, his senses dialed up to eleven at the thought of having to go back to Benny’s, but Dustin was also just entirely too easy to tease. He was, perhaps, just a tad too flirtatious with the babysitter on purpose, just to ruffle Dustin’s feathers — Eddie is big enough to admit that that was a fuck up on his part.

The connection over the payphone had not been the greatest, just as much static as voice, and somehow he’d fooled himself into thinking the girl on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like you. So much like you that if he tries very hard, he can convince himself that it had been you on the phone that day. It wasn’t, he knows this, but in his heart of hearts?

The teasing, the cadence of her speech, the specific little phrases she used, her laugh? Christ – the way she’d laughed had been enough to make Eddie weak at the knees because he swears to God, Tiamat, Ozzy Osborne, whoever is out there listening, that it had been you laughing on the other end of that phone call — but then she’d hung up on him, and Eddie knew he’d been deluding himself, projecting you into some random girl he’d probably scandalized.

He imagines some snotty cheerleader on the other line, lying on her bed, twisting her perfectly manicured fingers in the phone cord, popping bubble gum, and kicking her feet —painting the picture of a pretty little fantasy until she realizes who she was talking to, until he tells her his name. Then he pictures her sneering and slamming the phone into the box with a harsh grunt of disgust.

She probably felt like she needed to take a shower after that, to wash the freak off of her.

Eddie still can’t believe how badly he’d let his feelings get hurt over it, all because he’d let himself pretend he was talking to you.

Then there was the way Dustin and Wayne acted towards each during that second Friday playing at the trailer. It was a rare day off, and it had seen his uncle rolling up unexpectedly and coming through the door halfway through their session.

Everyone instantly shut up and mumbled their own overly formal, awkward greetings as Wayne surveyed the group. He greeted the boys he knew, regarded the ones he didn’t with a curt nod as Eddie introduced them – Mike and Lucas, and then he clapped eyes on Dustin, and he got stuck. He stared hard and set his jaw, and Eddie could practically see the gears turning in his uncle’s head as he tried to work something out.

It would have made him nervous if he hadn’t noticed the way Dustin was staring right back at him with the same intensity. Like they recognized each other but they didn’t precisely know where from.

Weird.

And then the moment passed, like fixing a skipping record.

“Y’all been playing long?” Wayne hummed, setting his wallet and keys down on the little dining table shoved against the opposite wall.

His addressing Eddie brought the game to a screeching halt and everyone held their breath and waited to see what he would say.

“Few hours, yeah.” he replied cautiously, “Why?”

There was a tiny nagging voice in the back of his mind that warned him they were about to get kicked out and they would have to finish their session with flashlights in the back of his van, but Wayne just shook his head, like it didn’t matter why he’d asked.

He fished his cigarettes from his pocket and patted himself down in search of his lighter, coming up empty.

“You got a light?”

Eddie tossed him his lighter— he caught it effortlessly.

“Well, don’t stop on my account, gentlemen.” He said, pushing a cigarette up to his lips and going right back outside.

The door clicked shut and a collective sigh passed over the room as everyone turned back to the game board and began chattering amongst themselves.

“You think he’s still pissed about the table?” Adam asked sheepishly.

Jeff and Gareth both began to voice their dissent – no, no way that was so long ago — and Eddie had to grit his teeth to stop himself from saying anything too mean about it because it may have been long ago to them but he still hadn’t heard the end of it.

“Of course, he’s still pissed – you guys, shut up about the table already,” Eddie huffed, flipping through the beat-up Player’s Handbook balanced precariously on his knee.

Of course, that only spurred them on to talk more about it. And when Mike piped up, asking “what table” Gareth was all too happy to launch into the story, much to Eddie’s annoyance as everyone lost interest in the game and began laughing and talking.

He propped his chin up on his hand and heaved a dejected sigh, continuing to flip through the book and waiting for them to be done. He just wanted to play D&D, was that too much to ask?

And then he could feel eyes on him. He glanced up to find Dustin staring at him expectantly from where he sat on the floor like he was waiting for the answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet.

Eddie waited. Dustin waited, and for a long moment, they both just sat, staring, waiting for the other to speak.

“What?” Eddie finally prompted.

Dustin began slowly.

“So…” He said, giving him a quizzical look and shuffling just a little bit closer to where Eddie sat with his knees up in the lazy boy. “How do you know that Wayne guy?”

Eddie wouldn’t say that the question floored him, but he didn’t quite know how to respond. He supposed he could have just answered the question – he’s my uncle – but he was much too caught on the other end of it.

“How do I–? How do you know Wayne, Dustin?” Eddie snapped, well aware that he was biting the kid’s head off over nothing again. “Don’t ask me stupid questions like that.”

He could practically hear you in the back of his mind, reminding him that there were no stupid questions, but Eddie stridently disagreed. That was a very stupid question.

Dustin didn’t have a response. He looked more put out than dejected as he threw up his hands and shook his head, but someone kicked up with a concern about snacks or drinks or something variably more important to a group of teen boys before Eddie could chase the thought any further.

It was another twenty-five minutes of trying to corral the group before they finally resumed their session and when Wayne finally came back in, Eddie spent the rest of the night trying not to get distracted by the way he and Dustin sat glancing at each other as he did his best not to lose his flow.

Wayne didn’t have much to say about it later on.

“Do you and Dustin know each other or something?” Eddie asked after everyone had gone, gathering the last of the books and character sheets, and dice.

Wayne sank heavily into his chair — the lazy boy that had served as a poor substitute for Eddie’s throne — with a sigh and beer. He scratched his stubbly chin and furrowed his brow like he had no idea what his nephew was talking about.

“Who?”

Eddie grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping.

“Dustin— the kid with the hat? Braces?”

“Oh.” Wayne said.

He hummed deep in the hollow of his throat, like he was considering whether or not to tell Eddie something, then he picked up the remote and flicked on the tv.

“Nope.”

That was the end of the conversation, no matter how long Eddie stood there in the living room, waiting for his uncle to elaborate. He didn’t, and Eddie finally had to just turn and stalk back to his room with an agitated sigh.

He can’t help but feel that there is a huge piece of the puzzle missing there, one he isn’t sure has anything to do with all the weirdness that has punctuated his days since school started. He tells himself he doesn’t care, so why does he suddenly feel like there is some kind of big conspiracy between everyone he knows going on behind his back? He racks his brain for what the possible connection could be and comes up empty.

He is so goddamn relieved when they finally get back to playing in the drama room.

+++

The counselor’s office looks the same as it always does, all of Ms. Kim’s pictures, degrees, and personal items are still where they were when Eddie was last here, same time last year.

Christ, has it been a year already?

He knows he’s fidgeting more than usual, bouncing his knee and digging his nails into the arm of the chair as he waits for the guidance counselor to speak.

So far she’s just sitting there, staring at him and it's making him very nervous.

The last time he’d been pulled out of class to see Ms. Kim, she’d told him he wasn’t graduating again… and graduation is only a month away now. He’d be lying if he said his stomach wasn’t in knots.

She is smiling sweetly at him from across her desk, hands clasped neatly in front of her and Eddie is still frantically bouncing his knee.

“How are you doing, Eddie?” She finally asks, tilting her head thoughtfully and leaning forward ever so slightly.

He resists the urge to ask her to just cut to the chase. He would much prefer to rip the band-aid off and get it over with – none of this beating around the bush with mindless pleasantries.

Still, his mother had done her best to raise him right, in spite of it all, and he would be damned if he didn’t at least try to be civil with Ms. Kim. She’s never been anything but kind to him, which is not something he can say about most of his teachers.

“Okay, I guess,” he mumbles.

Her face pinches into a mask of concern.

“I heard you’ve been having a bit of a rough year.”

Eddie clears his throat to cover the bitter snort of laughter that tears itself out of him.

“Yeah well, nothing ever really changes around here, does it?” He says, smirking and shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “Same shit different day – sorry.”

The silence that blooms between them is more than a little bit awkward. He hadn't meant to swear.

Ms. Kim straightens the stack of papers set out on the desk in front of her and Eddie’s gaze flicks down to try and discreetly see what they are – he can only make out his name.

“So, I've got your transcripts here,” She begins, “And I wanted to talk to you about your future at Hawkins High School…”

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach – he suddenly feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Oh come on, my grades can’t be that bad…” He chuckles. It is a humorless sound.

He is going to be devastated if she tells him he’s not going to graduate again. He doesn’t think he can stand another year of this…

He half expects her to give him a piteous look, scrunch her features and turn her eyebrows up in apology, but instead, they jump up towards her hairline and she shakes her head.

“No, actually, quite the opposite. Your grades are…” she trails off, shrugs, “Well, I’m not going to lie to you, they’re still pretty low, but considering what they were this time last year?” and then her lips quirk up into a big smile, “I think you might be on track to graduate next month.”

Eddie would have been less shocked if she’d pulled a gun on him. He's fully aware of how his mouth has fallen open as he stares at her.

“Shut the fuck up!” He gasps, and then, “Sorry – I’m so sorry – I just… y-you’re serious?”

"I'm serious."

"You're not just bullshitting me, right?" Goddammit, Munson, language, "Ah– sh-shoot – sorry."

Despite his language, Ms. Kim is still smiling and nodding – and Eddie doesn’t think she would lie to him about this. Educational staff wasn’t allowed to pull practical jokes, were they? Prank the guy with the worst grades in school by telling him he was graduating? That would be a major conflict of interest, probably illegal even, which means she’s not kidding, and he’s really – finally – going to graduate if he can keep his shit together.

Holy shit.

“I know it’s a little premature to say, but congratulations.” Ms. Kim says.

Eddie almost doesn’t hear her.

He feels like he’s going to burst, though for the first time in a long time it’s from happiness and not some kind of devastating attempt to hold himself together. Eddie only realizes how broadly he is smiling as his hands come up to clasp either side of his face. Shock is the only word he can think to describe what he feels, elation maybe? Dumbfoundedness?? Mostly, he can’t believe his stupid luck.

No, not luck, hard fucking work is more like, he’s been kicking his own ass all year and it’s finally paying off. He suddenly can’t wait to tell someone, everyone, get up on a table and shout it at the denizens of this wretched place – take a good last look, everybody, Eddie Munson is finally getting out of here.

“That being said–”

God dammit.

“–you’ve got one grade that you need to pull up. Mrs. O’Donnell’s class–”

Eddie's heart sinks a little. He's not sure any one of his teachers hates him more than Mrs. O'Donnell does. She would fail him just to spite him if it didn't mean she would have to endure another year of him in her class.

“– you’re close though, D is a passing grade. I should mention, however, that if you don’t manage it–”

“Oh, Christ – don’t say that!”

Eddie’s not superstitious, but he can’t help but jump forward and wrap his knuckles sharply on her desktop with both hands. It’s made of sheet metal – shit.

Is it bad luck to knock on wood when it’s not made of wood? He doesn’t know.

You would have known because you always had little bits of random information for him like that.

You were a purveyor of secrets and forbidden knowledge – you were Lady Midnight.

God, he wishes he could tell you the news, wrap you up in his arms and spin you around and around until he can't stand up straight.

Ms. Kim carries on about how there’s no shame in getting his GED and how best to stay on track for graduation, but Eddie isn’t listening anymore.

He’s too busy picturing the alternate universe where you still lived in Hawkins. Maybe you had a place together, one of the tiny apartments above or behind or in the basement of one of the buildings on Cherry Street.

He imagines he’d go straight from Ms. Kim’s office to find you at work, wherever that was – maybe you worked at Family Video with that asshole Keith and he’d find you behind the counter, or maybe you had some office job that he’d pick you up from every night at five.

He imagines the way your face would brighten when he told you — Baby, you won’t believe it, I’m finally fucking graduating! — your eyes would go wide and you’d scream and throw your arms around him and jump up and down. Everyone would stare because everyone always stared at the both of you, but you wouldn’t care because Eddie was graduating.

You’d be so excited that he would have to pry you off of him, and then you'd take him by the hand and insist you go out to celebrate immediately.

“Let’s go to Enzo’s and get drunk and eat our weight in breadsticks and lasagna,” You’d say, sidling up and tucking yourself beneath his arm.

And Eddie would scoff because there’s no way either of you could afford Enzo’s, but he would never deny you a good time.

“Sounds great, Sweetheart, we don’t have to pay rent this month,”

Of course, that was never going to happen.

Realistically, he thinks if he had the chance to tell you, your face would scrunch in sadness or maybe even anger, because you’d worked so hard tutoring him last year, all for nothing. All for him to break up with you just because he was jealous that you’d graduated and he didn’t, because you’d promised you weren’t going to leave him behind and he hadn’t believed you.

Maybe this was the start of Eddie finally getting his shit together, but what is the point of moving on if you aren’t going to be there waiting for him?

He’d spent so long imagining the moment when his life would finally jump out of stasis — graduating, moving on, moving out, getting his own place, getting a real job, and maybe – if he was really lucky – even someday getting married. Settling down with someone kind and fun and funny and eventually having a couple of little Munson brats of his own, running around wreaking havoc and living the childhood he always wished he’d been lucky enough to have.

He doesn’t want any of that on his own, he doesn’t want it without you – as cheesy, sappy, rom-com bullshit as that sounds.

He'd spent too long imagining his life with you.

Whatever scenario he drummed up for his future self — whether the band took off and he made it big and became this ridiculously famous rockstar living in a mansion out in LA, or even if he just got a job at a mechanic’s shop somewhere that barely paid him enough to make rent — you were always there with him.

Filthy rich or dirt poor, you were supposed to be hitting those milestones together.

He’s going to graduate next month and you’re not going to be there.

Eddie's heart is hammering against his ribs again, and he flexes his fingers to keep his hands from shaking.

It always hits him in the worst moments...

There is no rhyme or reason to his path after Ms. Kim turns him loose. For lack of anywhere better to go, Eddie heads straight for his locker, because he doesn’t think he can stomach sitting through class — he doesn’t know what he plans to do when he gets there.

Maybe he’ll grab his shit and leave — cutting class is not a good look when you're trying to graduate — maybe he’ll slam his head in the door until the blood stops roaring in his ears or his head falls off or something — can't graduate if you're dead — can't have a panic attack if you're dead either.

He fumbles with the lock until he can get the door open then, for lack of anything better to do, sticks his head inside, hands gripping the metal tightly as he tries to take deep breaths.

It’s nothing compared to a sink full of ice water, and the relative dark is not enough to be calming, but it’s better than nothing.

Calm down calm down calm down calm down calm–

“Are you okay?” he thinks he hears you ask.

Eddie whips back from his locker and cracks the back of his head against the door – ow – and it’s not you standing there, staring at him through your lashes, of course, it’s a cheerleader.

Chrissy Cunningham, he remembers after a moment of static. Red-blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, sweet face, heavy blue eye makeup. She’s wearing jeans and a soft white cardigan and Eddie realizes he didn’t recognize her without the greens and golds of her cheer uniform. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her out of it.

The phrasing makes him feel like he could start blushing.

She’s staring up at Eddie with big, wide eyes, filled with concern, and maybe something halfway to fear. It takes him a moment too long to realize she’s waiting for him to answer the question she’d asked.

“What?” He asks a little too loud, swallowing hard.

Her voice is very quiet when she answers.

“I just … asked if you’re okay…?”

“Oh… Yep— I mean — yeah, no. Yes. I’m fine.” Real smooth, keep talking cool guy, “I was just— I was looking for something.”

He gestures nervously to his locker, glancing at its messy contents before reaching out and snatching the first thing he sees. A broken pencil. Great.

Eddie has never been good at thinking on his feet — there is always as good a chance that he’s going to make a complete fool of himself as he is going to come across as smooth. Even when he’s confident that things will go well, his brain has this nasty little habit of betraying him at the last moment and short-circuiting, as had happened that first moment he’d tried to talk to you in the lunchroom.

He may as well have just stabbed himself with the broken pencil for how thinking about that makes his chest hurt.

Still, he holds the pencil up to Chrissy, like he needs to prove that he’s okay. He’s not.

“Found it.” He says.

She stares at him, wide-eyed and blank for what feels like an excruciatingly long moment, and then she smiles — giggles even, in spite of herself, pursing her lips and casting her gaze downward. It’s a soft, shy thing that carries shades of the way you’d looked at him the first time he’d ever spoken to you. It makes Eddie’s heart thump.

In a moment he remembers himself and slams his locker door shut, putting the pencil behind his ear and crossing his arms over his chest like he suddenly feels the need to protect himself.

Cheerleaders don’t usually talk to him unless it is to say something nasty or to try and buy from him … or that time in his first senior year when the cheer captain cornered him in the bathroom at a party and tried to coerce him into having sex with her out of some kinky, rebellious fantasy she’d wanted to fulfill before she graduated — you’d thankfully come to his rescue before anything could happen.

Girls like Chrissy Cunningham, who wear their innocence like a veil and date sports stars most certainly don’t talk to guys like Eddie.

It makes him nervous.

“Uh … sorry, did you… want? Something?”

Her eyes grow wide, like she’s been accused of something untoward and she looks away again, scratching nervously at her ankle with the toe of her immaculate white sneaker.

“Oh. Yes… actually.” Chrissy says, “Um, s-so… I was told that you— like … I mean if I wanted to get … something? You would have it.”

It takes him a long moment to untangle the sentence, and he’s a little dumbfounded when it finally comes undone. Maybe he was wrong about her because according to his translations, Chrissy wants one of two things from Eddie: sex or drugs.

Somehow he doesn’t think she’s coming on to him so that just leaves option two, which doesn’t leave him any less flummoxed.

“You wanna buy?”

It sounds much more like an accusation than he intended.

Chrissy twists a delicate finger tightly in the hair at the nape of her neck, garroting the tip of her digit and doing her very best not to look directly at Eddie. Her face is ever so slightly flushed pink as she bites at her lower lip and nods.

In spite of the bizarre situation, Eddie does think she is really very pretty, in a way he’d never noticed before.

He swallows and clears his throat to stop his voice from cracking as he continues.

“…What, uh— what were you in the market for… specifically?” He asks.

Chrissy glances at him from the corner of her eye and twists her sleeves down over her hands. She hesitates like she has absolutely no idea how to answer the question. Suddenly, her eyes are bright and shining, like she is ready to cry, and Eddie’s heart is in his throat.

He can’t stand to see people crying – girls, in particular, it makes him feel helpless, too much like watching his mother put makeup on over the bruises on her face. His hands twitch at his sides as the impulse to somehow try and comfort her becomes nearly overwhelming.

“Hey — hey… it’s okay. I’m not gonna bite you.” He says softly, resisting the urge to take a step toward her.

And do what, hug her?

That’s what he would have done with you, pulled you close and held you tight until you’d calmed down. Eddie doesn’t dare cross that line to touch Chrissy, he’s half convinced she might combust into flames if he did, innocent little bird that she is.

Innocent little bird trying to buy drugs.

He hopes she knows he means no harm as suddenly she becomes very interested in her sneakers, tugging at the hem of her big cardigan.

Eddie dips his head to try and meet her gaze, make her look at him – all she’ll do is glance at him, and he smiles at her when she does, in a way he hopes is reassuring. The moment of emotion thankfully passes quickly and Chrissy comes down again – she’s no longer on the verge of tears and Eddie can relax… at least a little bit.

“You good?” He asks.

“Yeah— yes. I’m sorry… I’ve — I’ve never done this before.” She mumbles, chewing the inside of her lip.

“That’s okay…” He assures her, shaking his head, “Everybody starts somewhere… I guess – uh – I guess I should’ve asked what kind of results you’re after?”

She blows out a tense breath and purses her lips like she really has to think about it.

“I don’t know… I—um… I've been having …n-nightmares?” She mumbles, then shudders bodily, like a sudden chill has ripped through her. “Terrible nightmares.”

For half a moment, she gets this scary, far-away look in her eye and it’s enough to stop Eddie from thinking about how her admitting that feels a tad too much like oversharing, considering they don’t know each other…

That’s not true, He tells himself, You do know Chrissy… second grade. Project on manatees – she came over and mom helped us work on it…

And then like being struck over the head, he’s reminded of another seriously unhelpful bit of information for the moment Eddie has found himself in.

She came to Mom’s funeral…

Eddie nods sagely, “You wanna sleep better.” he hums, trying to banish the image of black clothes and sorrowful faces standing around as a coffin is lowered into a grave — a much younger Chrissy stealing a shy glance at him before ducking back to hide behind a pair of legs.

Eddie wonders if she remembers any of that.

Chrissy returns the motion, a sharp jerk of her head in affirmation. It’s reassuring. At least he knows what he can sell her now.

“Okay.” He feels himself smiling without really being aware of how it got there, and he shrugs, “Well, hey, I’ve got the cure—“ Eddie stops short and tries to blink the living room at Rick’s place back on its axis — I’ve got the shit for what ails you — he’s quick to correct himself, shaking his head to try and clear the sudden smokey haze from his mind, “I’ve got something for that,”

Chrissy nods again and then brings up a hand Eddie hadn’t realized she’d had clutched in a fist. Slowly, her fingers unfurl to reveal a crumpled hundred-dollar bill.

“How much will this get me?”

Eddie almost laughs out loud at the sight of it. It’s more than he’s ever even paid to refill his whole stash.

Much more than you’re gonna need, Sweetheart, he wants to say, but he can suddenly taste whiskey on the back of his tongue and his head is buzzing with static.

Eddie rubs his hands down his jeans where his palms have become sweaty, and he tries to pass the nervous motion off like he’s searching his pockets.

“Well, I don’t— I don’t have anything on me right now…?”

“Oh!” Chrissy chirps, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates and freezing a moment as her fingers snap closed on the money again. “Sorry–”

“It’s fine, I’ll just...” Eddie makes a show of jerking his thumb over his shoulder, but Chrissy is shaking her head before he can finish the thought.

“No, no that’s okay—I just thought… nevermind, it doesn’t matter…”

She trails off, color bleeding into her cheeks as the interaction suddenly starts to feel like it’s fizzling out.

Eddie is quick to try and smooth things over because strangely he is suddenly very concerned with what Chrissy thinks about him. He suddenly wants so badly for her to think he is nice.

“No, I mean — like, if you wanna come back around tomorrow?”

An awkward silence blooms between them as she considers the offer.

“Tomorrow?” She echoes, a soft, lilting question that has Eddie smiling at her again.

He notices that her two front teeth are ever so slightly crooked in a way that is painfully endearing. She’s much too sweet for this, he shouldn’t be agreeing to deal to her, but he suddenly feels the closest he has felt to his old self in months, standing there in the empty hallway, talking to Chrissy Cunningham — Eddie before you.

“Yeah.” He says gently, “Yeah—we could meet after school…”

She hesitates, worries her lower lip, and continues to avoid looking at Eddie. It doesn’t feel malicious so much as bashful, like maybe it didn’t matter that it was him she was talking to, like she would have been this shy trying to buy drugs from anyone.

Her brows come together, scrunching down over her big pretty eyes.

“Tomorrow’s the pep rally,” Chrissy says softly, like she’s letting him down.

It hits Eddie like a fist to the gut, and darkness begins creeping in at the edges of his vision. He takes a slow, deep breath in through the nose and blinks rapidly.

“You don’t want to go to the pep rally.” He can suddenly hear you saying, somewhere very far away.

Eddie digs his nails into the palm of his hand until it hurts in an attempt to try and banish you.

“Right.” He says, forcing himself to breathe normally.

Chrissy finds the courage to finally look at him then, if only briefly — her eyebrows are turned up apologetically.

“…And the championship game,” she says.

“You just want to go and antagonize the basketball team…”

“That’s also true.” Eddie hums, nodding.

He’d caught you on your way out of class, throwing his arm around your shoulders and trying to steer you towards the gymnasium before you’d shrugged out of his reach.

No, of course, Eddie didn’t want to go to the pep rally, but an injustice had been delivered upon the Hellfire Club by said Hawkins Tigers, and by code of law, action begets action. He didn’t know what he planned to do – make a scene, probably heckle and taunt the players from the bleachers, be generally disruptive – but you wanted absolutely no part of it.

Your refusal was an idle thing, yet dagger sharp.

Eddie staggered, throwing himself back against a row of lockers and gasping dramatically as he pantomimed being stabbed. You hardly reacted, rolling your eyes and leaving him behind as you made your way further down the hall toward your locker. You were used to his antics by now. He watched you go.

“Me? Antagonize the basketball team?” Eddie called, jogging to catch up, “I would never–”

“No, of course not.” You said, the sarcasm oozing off of you thick enough to leave a gooey trail in your wake. “Because you’re just bursting with school spirit, right? – Go sports!”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, coming to a sliding stop at your side as you found your locker amidst the row.

“Oh, come on, Sweetheart, give me a little credit here. I’m peppy as hell. I’ve got pep in my step,” The statement was punctuated by Eddie jumping up and down beside you.

Again you rolled your eyes, and turned your attention to fidgeting with the sticky padlock clipped to your locker.

“Look, if we go, it’s gonna be weird that we’re even there in the first place and you’re just gonna push it and push it until one of those meatheads decides he’s offended by something and causes a big scene – because that’s what always happens – and it’s just so much easier not to go and avoid all that drama in the first place.”

You were right, because you were always right, but Eddie didn’t have to tell you that.

“How dare you,” He gasped, feigning offense, pressing a scandalized hand to his chest, clutching phantom pearls, “Here I am, bearing my heart and soul, and you won’t even entertain the idea of being seen in public with me. Heartless – that’s what you are.”

Of course, by then you were openly ignoring him and his antics, which absolutely would not do, so Eddie changed tactics. He reached out and pinched the flesh of your cheek between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hey, can you blame a guy for wanting to support the home team?”

You jerked out of his touch and swatted angrily at him.

And then, perfectly on cue, there came the basketball team. The hallway parted like the sea as people made way for Hawkins’s best and brightest (and most popular) flanked by the ever-present cheerleading squad, like a green and gold cloud of preppy little gnats.

Eddie clenched his teeth as he watched the group pass, feeling judgment rolling off of them in tangible waves, like invisible daggers hurled in his direction – worse still in your direction, because they’d offered you a choice and you’d picked him over them.

He just couldn’t help himself.

“Go Tigers!” Eddie shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

The phrase “if looks could kill” passed briefly through his mind as they turned to regard him. He felt a strange mixture of satisfaction and chagrin as they did their very best to kill him dead, satisfaction for how he’d gotten under their skin without doing basically anything, and then chagrin as he saw how their disdain for him extended to you.

That made it less fun – still, he committed to the bit.

“See?” Eddie said, gesturing down the hall towards the group of fading athletes, “Think about how fun it would be to sit through three whole hours of that.”

You watched them go – your old friends – and turned to look at him. Something fluttered across your face, and for half a moment Eddie was afraid he’d gone too far and hurt your feelings somehow. Then you narrowed your eyes.

“I thought Eddie Munson didn’t do school functions?” You teased, though there was real bite behind it.

Eddie cringed bodily – he understood that reference.

In the weeks before he’d mustered the courage to ask you out, you’d asked him if he was going to that night’s Sadie Hawkins dance. Eddie had scoffed and told you “I don’t really do school functions,” like it was some kind of running joke.

The Hellfire guys had laughed, and you’d tried your best to join in, but he’d seen the look of disappointment flash across your eyes and the way your face fell. You’d mumbled a quiet, “oh, okay, nevermind then” before quickly excusing yourself. It only occurred to him that you’d been asking him to the dance several hours later, while he was sitting on his bed working out the chords to a song you’d said you liked.

Eddie was sure his neighbors must have thought he was being murdered with the way he’d screamed when it hit him. He was a fucking idiot, and he knocked over just about every piece of furniture and clutter they owned in his panic to get to the phone and call you. It was too late for the dance, and he barely let you get a word in edgewise as he stumbled over apologies and excuses and promises to make it up to you somehow – he was still making it up to you.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” He groaned, thumping his head against the locker beside yours.

You gave him a sly, sidelong glance, your lips quirking at the corners and eyes flashing in triumph as you finally managed to jimmy your locker open.

“Never.” You purred.

Flirting with Chrissy seems like a real funny way of trying to make it up to you, but still, Eddie tries to make himself smile in a way he hopes is reassuring. He hopes it looks a lot more convincing than it feels.

“What if we meet up before the game?”He posits, and Chrissy doesn’t seem convinced, so he keeps talking, “D’you know where that old picnic table is? Out in the woods past the field?”

She nods, still tugging at the sleeves of her cardigan.

There is a soft crease of worry between her eyebrows and Eddie feels a strange combination of warmth blooming in his chest and guilt cramping his stomach as he resists the urge to smooth it away.

She really is very pretty...

“Yeah,” she says, slowly with a newfound sense of surety, “…Okay. Before the game.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. A sigh of relief.

“Okay. So… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

"Okay."

She offers him one more shy smile before turning on her heel and scurrying down the hall.

He watches Chrissy go and very quickly feels the afterglow of talking to a pretty girl give over to guilt as something crumples inside of him.

“Come over tonight?” He’d asked, leaning against the locker beside yours.

You’d cast a sidelong glance his way and offered an apologetic smile as you tucked away your textbooks.

“I can’t – I’m babysitting.”

Ah, the old babysitting excuse – Eddie knew it all too well, and it was not enough to deter him.

“That’s okay, I’ll come to you.” He said, eliciting the expected response, your face scrunching up in the way he loves, brows coming together, eyes narrowing.

“No, you won’t.” you’d huffed, like he’d suggested something positively scandalous.

The suggestion of it was there, of course, a perpetually lingering shadow of arousal that lived between any two people in a consenting adult relationship (particularly if they happened to be a couple of horny teenagers) – still, Eddie couldn’t help but feign innocence.

“Why not?”

“Because.” You pressed, stretching the word, “I’m not gonna be one of those cliche babysitters who sneaks her boyfriend over to make out all night. That’s how you get killed in a horror movie.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, hand dropping idly to crook a finger through your belt loop and tug you towards him.

“Oh, come on,” He said, “We’re not gonna make out all night.”

He moved to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind your ear and somehow managed to get lost along the way. Suddenly his hand had come to rest at the curve of your throat, which only went on to suggest a strident contrast to what he’d just said.

No, you weren’t gonna make out all night, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do everything in his power to get you out of your jeans.

“Eddie…” You warned him.

"Ed-die."

You furrowed your brow at his mocking and he just smiled. He knew that tone, it meant “don’t start”, but the way you sighed his name betrayed your steadfastness. It was reminiscent of the way you said it when he had you in a compromising position, with his hands all over you – all whiny and a little desperate, face flushed, lips bitten.

Uh oh, he thought, feeling the stirrings of something in his abdomen that was never so easily banished. Dangerous territory. Proceed with caution.

For the sake of his dignity, and considering you were both still at school, Eddie pivoted – it was a rare act of self-preservation.

“Come on, Babycakes,” he said, sounding perhaps a tad whinier than he’d intended, “I wanna meet the little twerp who’s been trying to steal my girl.”

Your brows came down in stark contrast to the way your face split into a wide grin as your fingers came up to grip the hand that had drifted south to rest over your collarbone.

“Your girl huh?” You purred, tilting your head down to gaze up at him through the thrush of your lashes.

Fuck. He loved it when you looked at him like that, but he knew if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna end up with a raging hard-on – at school, no less – and then what was he gonna do?

Eddie swallowed hard and ran his thumb over the plush spread of your lower lip, despite how it nudged him just a little further down the path of ruin. He had to fight to resist the urge to push the digit past your lips, press down on your tongue.

“Gotta scope out the competition.” He said thickly.

You scoffed then, thankfully cutting the tension with the harsh sound as you jerked your head back, pulling out of his grip.

“He’s not competition, Eds, he’s twelve.”

Eddie shrugged. “Even better, I’ll let the punk know who’s boss.” He could tell you clearly weren’t buying it, so he doubled down, “Hey– hey, I’m great at babysitting — I get those babies flat as a pancake every time.”

Your eyes flashed indignantly and before he could think to move, you jabbed him sharply in the ribs with your knuckle.

“Ah—shit!” he gasped.

“That’s my joke, Munson.”

Eddie hissed a sharp intake of breath and jerked away from the skittering feeling over his ribs as you poked him again and again.

“Baby don’t—ahh!“ He cut himself off with a cry as your hands came down to squeeze at his sides.

The worst thing that had ever happened to him was how you had so unceremoniously discovered just how goddamn ticklish he was, one afternoon when you’d engaged him in a wrestling match. You’d started it, but Eddie had easily flipped you over and pinned you down, holding your hands over your head and ready to torment you until you said “uncle”, but little did he know that you were an incorrigible brat who would not go down without a fight. Not a fair one, at least. Somehow, you’d gotten a hand free and immediately jabbed him in the ribs, pulling an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp from somewhere deep inside of him, startling the both of you. It was all over from there.

Eddie has not known a day of peace since, and today it seemed would be no different.

In some small attempt at self-preservation, he seized you at the wrists and pulled your hands around his back, jerking you forward and forcing you to hug him so that you couldn’t tickle him.

It was not the most ideal solution, considering the growing state of his arousal. You were suddenly pressed flat to him, head forced back so that your chin was resting at the dip of his sternum, gazing up at him with the faintest hint of mischief glinting in your pretty eyes.

If you were a cat, your tail would have been twitching with anticipation.

"Oh good, now that I've got your attention," He started, breathless and a little lightheaded as you tilted your chin down ever so slightly.

And then you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his chest and Eddie yelped. He bit the sound off with a shout of laughter and pushed away from you.

You chased him, because of course you did, vicious harpy that you were – talons extended and reaching to grab at him again. He easily skirted around you in a wide circle, and suddenly you were both laughing and shouting as Eddie proceeded to run up and down the hall, fleeing the threat of your tickling fingers like he was running for his life.

It was an exercise in stamina, as even though he had longer legs, you were the faster runner, and as such, you were on him at every turn, squeezing and poking and pinching.

You really were in rare form that day. Super bratty. Part of him knew he was gonna have to hold you down and teach you a lesson later if you kept it up. That same part of him really hoped you would keep it up.

Your classmates passed you idly in the hall as you played, staring in varying degrees of discomfort as they made their way to the forgotten pep-rally, admonishing your dopey public displays of shouting, laughing affection with sidelong glances and the singular utterance of “get a room.”

In quite the athletic feat, Eddie finally managed to outmaneuver you enough to grab you from behind, pulling your hands across your chest and pinning them there so that you were stuck in a straight jacket of your own body. Once he was certain you were restrained, he walked you back to your locker, compensating for your presence between his legs by taking large awkward steps.

The action was closer to skipping than walking, and by the time Eddie deposited you back to your locker – the both of you noticeably winded from the game – you were giggling hysterically, spinning in his arms and rocking back against the cold metal door. You made no effort to stop him from caging you in there, hands coming up to rest on either side of your head as you lingered a moment, working to catch your breath.

Your face was flushed the prettiest shade of pink from exertion, eyes bright, chest heaving. Eddie watched your tongue poke out to swipe a thin sheen of moisture over your lips, and he swallowed hard.

He had to force himself to drag his gaze up from your mouth.

“So anyway, about me helping you babysit tonight—"

You heaved an overdramatic groan and rolled your eyes as Eddie rushed to continue before you could cut him off.

“Just hear me out— you said he’s a little nerd, right? That’s perfect. Nerds love me,”

“No, they don’t.”

“They do.” He insisted, beaming, “We can play D&D! Like a mini-campaign. Just the three of us – it will be so fun, I promise.”

The corners of your mouth quirked with humor.

“Can I be the Dungeon Master?” You asked.

You were teasing, but Eddie just dipped his head forward to brush his lips against the highest point of your cheekbone.

“Baby, you can be whatever the hell you want if you just say yes.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You hummed thoughtfully and let your head thump back against the hard metal like you were really considering the suggestion.

Eddie pulled back ever so slightly to watch the gears of your mind turning visibly on your face, though he very quickly became distracted as his eyes dipped to the exposed columns of your throat. He had to work very hard to resist the urge to put his mouth on you and suck a bruise into your flesh.

He wondered what the student body would think about that? The Freaky couple going at it in the hallway while the pep rally went on unnoticed? How’s that for school spirit?

Finally, you shrugged your shoulders.

“…I mean… he would love that, actually.”

“Yes!” Eddie cheered, pumping his fist in victory.

He grabbed you by the wrist and jerked your hand up for a high-five, the force of which rang out with a loud clap, echoing through the now-empty hallway and leaving his palm stinging.

You were giggling again, chewing your lower lip like you meant to contain the sound.

“Really though, he’s gonna love you. You guys like all the same nerdy stuff,” you said, rapping your knuckles against his chest. “You’ll be best friends and then I’ll just be that girl from across the street who used to be cool. Last year’s toys —totally lame.”

Eddie caught your hand and held it there, brushing the pad of his thumb across your knuckles and telling himself he didn’t need to tell you just how cool he thought you were, how much he loved you.

He was too caught in the way his heart was suddenly thumping in his chest over the sentiment.

Nobody ever said “oh you should meet Eddie Munson, you’re gonna love him,” — at least not without a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Nobody loved Eddie. Except for you … and the kid you babysat, apparently.

It made him feel like he could burst.

Eddie wanted to linger in the feeling a little longer, bask in its glow, but because he was who he was, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Of course, he’s gonna love me, I’m awesome.”

You snorted with a burst of undainty laughter.

“And so modest!” You teased, eyes growing soft as you walked your fingers up over his chest. “And smart, and funny, and handsome…”

Eddie felt his stomach do a cartoon flip-flop – he was still learning to take compliments like that, and you’d made it perfectly clear that you wouldn’t stand for his self-deprecating comments, which left him standing hopelessly defenseless in moments like this.

He rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to hide his face in the crook of your neck, if only to hide the warmth he could feel creeping up into his face.

“Aw, babe…” he mumbled, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Then your hands drifted southward to rest on the buckle of his belt, and Eddie felt something inside of him begin to throb.

He couldn’t tell if it was his heart or his dick.

“Let me come with you.” He suddenly couldn’t stop himself from saying, perhaps a little too earnestly as he did his best to ignore the way your nose wrinkled at the unintended innuendo.

You giggled, and Eddie pushed his lower lip out and pinched his brows in a mock pout.

“No, stop it, I’m trying to be sweet.” He huffed.

You breathed a sigh of soft laughter through your nose and nodded, relenting.

Eddie dropped his chin and nudged your nose with his, glancing up at you through the thrush of his lashes in a gentle mockery of the way you’d looked at him moments before.

“Please?” He pleaded, softly.

At this point, despite how you’d gotten him all worked up, he didn’t even want to have sex with you (that was a bald-faced lie, he would have fully taken you right there against the lockers if this were some kind of cheap porno and if he thought he could get away with it) he just wanted to be near you —always— sit on the couch and watch a movie with you, cuddle you, hold your hand, breathe you in, kiss you, hold you and never let you go.

Truthfully, Eddie just wanted in on the piece of your life that you had yet to share with him, because he was infinitely curious about how you spent your nights entertaining the kid you babysat.

Selfishly, he wanted every part of you to belong solely to him. He was, in fact, more than just a little bit jealous of how much of your time and attention that kid held in his grubby little hands.

It was stupid, he knew that, but you had a knack for making him just a little more stupid than was normal.

You brought your hands up to smooth the wrinkles out of the front of his shirt and drummed your fingers over his heart.

It was a nice prelude to the gentle rejection hanging on your lips.

“Not tonight, Eds.” You mumbled.

Eddie made an unabashedly whiny sound of disappointment in the hollow of his throat and put on a show of pouting as he dropped his head to press his forehead against yours.

“Fine,” He sighed – rather pathetically in the hopes that you would take pity on him enough to reconsider.

You didn’t, but you did surprise him by suddenly fisting your hands in the front of his jacket and tugging him closer, as if that were even possible.

He was fully pressed against you now, pinning you to the lockers, and that little sparkle of mischief was back in your eyes.

“…You should come over after, though.” you breathed against his lips.

Eddie felt heat flaring in his chest, the possibility of “after” dripping down to pool in the pit of his abdomen – he could feel his face splitting in a slow smile as he rocked back on his heels.

“Yeah?”

You nodded slowly, “My parents are in Chicago until next week — and I should be done tonight by eleven-thirty? Then we can hang out, watch a movie, and stuff.”

If he was grinning any wider, his face might have started to peel off, so Eddie bit his lip.

“And stuff, huh?” He echoed, tilting his head in curiosity, “What kinda stuff?”

He knew exactly what kind of stuff you were talking about, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“Oh, I dunno.” You hummed innocently, “Maybe play some games?”

“I like games.” Eddie said, nodding emphatically, “What kind of games do you want to play?”

You blew out a breath and rolled your eyes up like you were thinking, even going so far as to tap your chin with your index finger. You were so goddamn cute, Eddie’s fingers twitched with the urge to squish your face.

“Well, there’s Candyland… Twister… Chutes and Ladders?”

It was a stretch, to be sure, but nobody ever accused him of being mature, and in spite of himself, he snorted with laughter.

Chutes and Ladders… Dumb joke. Really trashy. Barely even an innuendo.

Still, he tried and failed to compose himself.

“Sounds good. What next?” Eddie asked, still chuckling.

Your eyebrows jumped, like you couldn’t believe the audacity of him to even think to ask.

“What, and ruin the surprise?”

The surprise was ruined the minute you put your hands on his belt.

It was sex.

You meant sex, but you were too shy to say it outright.

You were the type of person who wasn’t shy about initiating but did so by rolling up with your hands behind your back, eyebrows jumping as you coquettishly asked if he wanted to “fool around”, and it was so incredibly cheesy Eddie couldn’t help but fall a little more madly in love with you for it.

His heart was so full with the feeling, the declaration of it lived perpetually on the tip of his tongue, but how many times a day could a man feasibly tell the object of his affection he loved her before the words started to lose meaning?

The danger of semantic satiation was ever-present.

“You,” he said, taking your face in his hands and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, again and again, each following word punctuated with another chaste peck, “Are,” Kiss. “An incorrigible,” Kiss. “Tease.” Kiss kiss kiss. “And a mean, mean girl. How am I ever supposed to make it to eleven-thirty?”

You stuck him to the spot with a sly look, quirking your brow and pursing your lips.

“You’ve got hands, don’t you?” You said, deadpan.

The boldness of the statement hit him like a slap to the face, and as if it weren’t enough to say it, you punctuated the statement by bringing your fist up and making a slow jerking motion.

“Oh, my God!” Eddie shouted, hands flying down to grip you by the shoulders as he barked out a burst of sharp, incredulous laughter. “Who are you?”

In the distance, he could hear the marching band beginning to play, signifying the start of the pep rally.

You smiled, looking awfully proud of yourself for being so naughty, and then you were serious again, pouting.

“Well?” You prompted, “Edward. I asked you a question.”

Eddie bristled at the sound of his full name and gave you a hard, disapproving look. You just smiled, a cat in cream – you were really gonna pay for that one tonight, and he had to wonder if you knew that.

His fingers scrabbled up to rest at the junction where your shoulders met your neck – because he couldn’t not touch you – fingers gracing the curve of your throat, and he met your gaze.

“Yes.” He said matter-of-factly, “You’re absolutely right, my darling little weirdo. I’ve got hands.”

And then there was that look again. You were pleased as punch and his head was spinning for it.

He bit his tongue to resist the urge to tell you he loved you again.

Eddie had never been this stupid about someone in his entire life – he’d been with other people, had little crushes here and there, some reciprocated, most not, but he had never been in love before, not like this.

Nobody had ever matched his energy the way you did. He knew he could be too much, but his feelings had always been big and unwieldy. Eddie did nothing in small measures, least of all love, and he didn’t know how to parcel it out in manageable bites. Once he was in, he was all in, and he threw everything he had to offer at the object of his affection. You were the first person who had ever accepted it without hesitation, and perhaps most thrilling of all, you’d given it right back.

He could hardly stand it.

He would have married you tomorrow if you’d have him, but that was a secret, something shiny to take out and admire in private moments. That was just for him.

Eddie pulled you into a tight hug, and pressed yet another kiss to your temple. He hummed contentedly when he felt your arms snake up around his waist under his jacket and the soft rumble of you sighing against him and he loved loved loved — but still, he just couldn’t help himself.

“I’ve also got a blanket in the back of my van.” He said crudely into the line of your hair.

Then it was your turn to shout with laughter, pushing against his chest. Eddie only held you tighter, deciding he could stand to indulge himself, and you could stand to be squeezed a little.

“Come on, Sweetheart.” He said, teasing a little too much as he hugged you and stretched the words in a singsong way, “Let’s go out to the vaaaan.”

“I don’t have time!” You laughed, the strain of trying to break free of him evident in your voice.

Eddie nuzzled his face into the crown of your head and felt the tickling of static kicking up over his nose and cheeks.

“Sure you do.”

You continued to struggle, and Eddie continued to hold on.

“I don’t want to be late.”

“You can be a little late.”

“No—"

“Yes.”

“Eddie.” You whined, that authoritative warning creeping into your tone again.

Christ, he loved it when you got bossy.

Still, Eddie released you, though only to seize you roughly by the jaw and pull you back to him, slanting his mouth against yours in a forceful kiss. He coaxed you to open up for him just a little more with a swipe of his tongue and the little moan you breathed into him as he licked the roof of your mouth shots all the way down to his balls, kind of like a bolt of lightning, kind of like getting kicked there.

It was not entirely unpleasant.

You were more than just a little bit breathless when Eddie finally released you with a wet, vulgar smack, feeling satisfied enough to start purring, like a cat in cream as he licked his lips. He watched you struggle to open your eyes and hummed contentedly at the sight.

He still had a gentle hold on your jaw, and he was not entirely convinced he wasn’t just going to kiss you again and again, holding you to the spot until you were late to babysit, just because you were that sweet, with your pink lips parted ever so slightly and your face flushed bright red.

Instead, he squished your cheeks in his hand and shook your head back and forth, fondly, before finally releasing you.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.” He said, “Begone Succubus! And tempt me no more.”

“Don’t be mean,” you huffed, taking your bag from Eddie as he offered it to you and shouldering it.

Eddie spun you away, and crooked his fingertips to hold on until distance demanded you part. Off you went, looking back at him with a bashful smile and starting down the hall.

He sighed, and watched you go. Eddie pressed his hand to the left side of his chest where he could feel his heart thumping and felt utterly dopey, drunk on your love and lost in the promise of “after”.

Then, he remembered almost too late that he couldn’t just let you go — he had to get you back for biting him— and because you were a brat and he had absolutely no handle on his impulsivity, Eddie took a big step forward and brought his hand down to clap you on the ass with a loud smack.

You yelped and leaped damn near out of your skin, hands flying down to cover the offended spot and face burning as you turned back to glare at him. You stuck your tongue out at him and he could feel the muscles in his face start to hurt from how widely he was grinning.

“See you tonight!” He called, watching you scurry down the hall, shoulders pulled up to your ears because of course —of course— he still wasn’t done, so he raised his voice and shouted, “—you know— FOR THE SEX!”

“Eddie!” You hissed, “Shut up!”

Eddie watches Chrissy go and breathes out a hard, shaky breath to try and banish the way he’s getting dangerously misty-eyed.

When she’s gone, disappeared around the corner, he sinks to the floor to stop his knees from buckling underneath him, and crouches at the foot of the lockers. He groans and crushes his palms into his eyes until he sees bursts of color.

Eddie misses you more than he’s missed anything in his stupid, pathetic life, and he feels guilty for it because he has no right to miss you after he’d so carelessly thrown you away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He can’t shake the feeling that with the perfectly innocent interaction he’d just had with Chrissy, he’s wronged you somehow, betrayed you — more than he already has — and he has to remind himself that flirting isn’t cheating.

You can’t cheat on someone you aren’t with.

He sniffs pathetically and runs the back of his hand under his nose.

He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him. He wishes he could feel normal again, free from this pervasive guilt, these stupid panic attacks, the crushing vice you still hold on his life after almost a year. He wishes he could be rid of you, and he wishes he would cease to exist for even thinking that.

Nobody’s fault but your own, you fucking loser.

Eddie makes himself think about Chrissy, because that feels easier than missing you. He thinks about her long legs in her short little cheer skirt, the gentle pout of her pink lips, her big wet eyes.

He thinks about how he’s going to see her again tomorrow.

He tells himself he’ll keep on flirting with her if she’s open to it, because she’s nice and she’s pretty and because there’s danger in it.

He knows he’ll definitely end up having sex with her if she comes on to him, because it’s been eight months since he’s felt the gentle press of your body and his hand has been a poor substitute.

Eddie knows Chrissy has a boyfriend, but he doesn’t care, because fuck Jason Carver and the shining white horse he rode in on.

There is a delicious sense of satisfaction in thinking about how goddamn pissed Jason would be to find out Chrissy had been talking to him, let alone soliciting drugs from him.

His perfect little princess.

Eddie thinks he could ruin her and have fun doing it.

No, he wouldn’t. He would do it and feel awful about it afterward because all he seems to manage to do these days is destroy himself a little more.

The thought of using her like that makes him feel sick, but he doesn’t know what to do with all the love you left behind in him. He doesn’t know where to put it. He won’t part with it — it’s all he has left of you — but it’s becoming a weight much too cumbersome to carry.

Eddie tells himself that maybe a rebound is the answer, maybe it’s what he needs to finally start to feel halfway normal again. Maybe it’s time to finally start thinking about moving on… the thought of it breaks his heart all over again.

If he closes his eyes tight enough he can still see you walking down the hall, glancing back at him over your shoulder – sticking your tongue out at him because you think he’s an asshole.

You'd wanted to see him.

He wants to see you so badly it makes his chest hurt… but instead, tomorrow he is going to see Chrissy...

Taglist: @harrys-tittie @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @itsrainingbisexualfrogs @thicksexxualtension @ganseysgff @scoopsr0bin @peanutbutter-y-jams @audhd-dragonaut @clilxlx @alexandriaemily20 @averagestudent03 @but-vanessa @cosmictime45 @timelordfreya @forever-war @munsonzzgf

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #cruel summer #stranger things fic #stranger things #not me hurting my feelings imagining mama munson #and how much of a mama's boy little eddie was #also i'm sad about chrissy #am i just a sad boy like orville peck?#the answer is yes #I’m sorry this is so late getting up it took me literally four hours to edit #cruel summer fic

180 notes · View notes