description: your parents are very strict and would never approve of your new college-aged boyfriend, darren. so, nancy comes up with the perfect solution: introduce them to your "boyfriend", eddie munson, first. compared to the town pariah, darren should look like prince charming... if only fake dating eddie was as easy as you thought it'd be.
pairing: "boyfriend"!eddie munson x you (fem!reader)
tags: eddie munson x you, soft! eddie munson, fake dating, fake relationship, autumn/fall vibes, friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff as fuck, holding hands and forehead kisses "for the bit", eddie is a gentleman, drive-in movie date, acts of service! eddie, matching halloween costumes, darren never stood a chance, SO FUCKING FLUFFY PREPARE FOR TEARS OF JOY :D
TW: just go ahead and make your dentist appointment now tbh
WC: 8.3k (i'm SORRY i really loved writing this one, okay!?)
A/N: AH HELLOOOO!!! It's been a while since I've had a fic that I feel this deeply for, but here we are nonetheless. I am also leaving on Sunday for a much, much, much-needed 9-day vacation, so I'm going to try to feed you all with one or two more fics.
reblogs are ssososososossoooo appreciated :) <3
enjoy my loves xoxo
"It's impossible, Nancy. Utterly and completely impossible."
You let your forehead fall dramatically against the cafeteria table with a soft thunk, your tray rattling beneath the impact. Across from you, Nancy barely looked up from the sad excuse for a school lunch she was methodically picking apart.
This wasn't the first time she'd listened to you spiral about your parents, and judging by the unimpressed look on her face, she doubted it'd be the last.
"Oh, will you stop whining?" she said, stabbing at a few peas with her plastic fork. "They cannot be that bad."
You lifted your head just enough to shoot her a look. "They're dictators."
"They're parents."
"They're prison wardens with a mortgage."
Nancy rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. "You are so dramatic."
"Says the girl whose mother once grounded her for getting a B-plus."
"That was one time."
"And she still brings it up."
Nancy couldn't exactly argue with that. With a sigh, she abandoned the mystery meat on her tray altogether and leaned back in her seat, folding her arms as she studied you.
You looked genuinely stressed, far more stressed than someone who'd only been dating a guy for a couple of months should've been.
"Darren's in college," you muttered, absentmindedly peeling the label off your milk carton. "He's already got one strike against him. Then there's the fact that he's older than me, which is strike two. By the time they actually meet him, they're going to have convinced themselves he's some twenty-five-year-old biker with a criminal record who's dragging me into a life of organized crime."
Nancy let out an amused snort. "You know that's not true."
"I know that's not true," you groaned. "But they don’t."
"You know what your issue is?"
You narrowed your eyes. "I've got several."
"You haven't given them anyone to compare Darren to."
"...What?"
"They've got nothing to measure him against." She gestured with her fork as if the answer were obvious. "You're terrified to introduce him because, in their minds, he's going to become the blueprint."
You blinked. "I don't follow."
Nancy leaned forward, lowering her voice despite the fact that nobody around you was paying the slightest bit of attention.
"You need to introduce them to someone worse first."
Your eyebrows knitted together. "...Worse?"
"Someone so unbelievably incompatible, so ridiculous, so catastrophically wrong for you..." A slow grin spread across her face. "That when they finally meet Darren, he'll look like the most respectable man on the planet."
You stared at her. "Nancy..."
"I'm serious."
"You want me to fake-date someone my parents would despise?"
"I want you to let them think you're dating someone they'd despise."
Silence. Then, almost against your own will, you felt the gears in your head begin to turn.
"...That's actually..."
"I know."
"...Kind of genius."
Nancy's smile widened. "I know."
Just as you were about to ask the far more important question: who on earth could possibly fit that description?...a familiar voice suddenly echoed across the cafeteria.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
The two of you turned instinctively toward the source. "Oh, Christ," Nancy muttered.
Across the room, standing on top of one of the cafeteria benches as though he were addressing a crowd of thousands instead of a room full of teenagers trying to eat lunch, Eddie Munson threw his arms dramatically into the air.
"I would once again like to address the blatant discrimination against the Hawkins High Hellfire Club—"
You looked at Nancy, and Nancy looked at you, neither of you saying a word.
"...Him?" you asked slowly.
Nancy's grin returned. "Oh, definitely him."
“...Shit.” You mumbled under your breath. Before you could overthink it, you pushed your chair back from the table. The legs scraped loudly against the linoleum floor.
Taking one steadying breath, you squared your shoulders and started weaving your way through the maze of lunch tables toward the growing crowd surrounding Eddie's latest performance.
"Wait—" Nancy hurried after you. "I wasn't expecting you to do it right now."
"If I don't do it now," you muttered over your shoulder, "I'm going to lose my nerve."
"Right."
By the time the two of you reached the edge of the crowd, Eddie was still going strong.
"—and furthermore, if Hawkins High truly believes forcing Hellfire to relocate every other week is somehow constitutional—"
You exchanged one last glance with Nancy, so she gave you a tiny nod. Go.
Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat, you carefully stepped through the cluster of students until you were standing close enough to reach him.
Then, before you could second-guess yourself…you gave the sleeve of his jacket a gentle tug. The effect was immediate, causing Eddie to stop midsentence.
"...constitutional ri—" His words died in his throat.
Slowly, almost cautiously, he looked down, and there you were. For a brief moment, he genuinely wondered if he'd imagined you. Because girls like you didn't usually interrupt his lunchtime speeches.
Hell, girls like you usually walked around him. He knew exactly who you were, of course. Everyone did.
You were one of those people whose name seemed to carry itself through the halls without any effort. Honor roll. Friends with Nancy Wheeler. Pretty enough that half the boys in school had, at one point or another, convinced themselves they had a chance before reality quickly corrected them.
You carried yourself with a quiet sort of confidence that made you seem untouchable. Not in a snobbish way, but in the way stars looked untouchable from Earth.
And now...you were standing in front of him. His brain, normally overflowing with smart remarks and sarcastic comebacks, came to a screeching halt. Eddie blinked once, then twice.
"...Uh..." He cleared his throat. "...Hi."
"Hi." You offered him a nervous smile, suddenly far less certain about marching over here than you'd been thirty seconds ago.
"Eddie," you began, tilting your head back slightly to meet his eyes. "Can we... uh... talk to you?"
His eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "...Me?"
"In private," you added quickly, gesturing toward the audience that had practically doubled in size now that the two of you had approached him. More than a few people had abandoned their lunches entirely in favor of shamelessly eavesdropping.
Eddie glanced over your shoulder at the crowd.
"...I..." He rubbed the back of his neck, still trying to process whatever bizarre alternate universe he'd apparently wandered into. "...Yeah."
A crooked grin finally found its way onto his face. "Yeah, I think I can pencil you in."
Without another word, he hopped down from the cafeteria bench with an exaggerated flourish, dusted imaginary dirt from his jeans, and threw a dramatic glance toward the rest of Hellfire.
"Boys," he announced solemnly, "the revolution will have to wait." He shot you an almost sheepish smile as he caught up beside you.
"So..." His curiosity was practically radiating off him now. "...Lead the way."
The three of you didn't stop walking until the cafeteria noise had faded into little more than a dull echo behind you. The hallway sat blissfully empty during lunch period, save for the occasional locker slamming shut somewhere in the distance.
Eddie rocked back on the heels of his sneakers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans before glancing between the two of you.
"So..." he drawled, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Am I being recruited into a cult, or are you guys finally here to tell me I've won some sort of popularity contest?"
Nancy snorted. "Neither."
"Damn."
She exchanged a quick look with you before deciding to rip the bandage off.
"So, uh..." she started. "Eddie... how would you feel about being a fake boyfriend?"
Eddie blinked. "...Come again?"
"A fake boyfriend."
He frowned, eyes drifting toward Nancy. "...Wait."
"Aren't you and Byers still together?" His eyebrows knitted together in genuine confusion. "I mean..." He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Sure, you're cool and all, Wheeler, but I kinda respect the guy."
Nancy stared at him for exactly half a second before letting out an exasperated groan.
"Oh, my God." She smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Not for me."
Eddie rubbed his arm dramatically. "Ow."
"For her," Nancy clarified, throwing both hands toward you like a game show host revealing the grand prize.
His head snapped in your direction so quickly you were surprised he didn't give himself whiplash. "...Her?"
You gave him an awkward little wave. "Hi."
"You..." he said slowly, pointing at you as if he needed to make absolutely certain everyone was talking about the same person. "...want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?"
"I know how insane that sounds."
"No, no." He held up both hands. "I'm just making sure I didn't hit my head getting off that cafeteria bench."
Nancy folded her arms. "Well?"
Eddie's bewildered expression slowly melted into one of pure curiosity. “I’m intrigued. What does this entail?”
You sigh, rocking on your heels. “Basically, I’ve been seeing this college boy, Darren. I’ve never ever been allowed to date, so I haven’t had a boyfriend yet. And considering he’s already in college, my parents would be uber pissed and never let it happen. So Nancy came up with this plan—”
“That you go out with me, your parents think he’s the golden boy, is that it?” He interrupts.
You pause abruptly, suddenly coming to the realization of how messed up and flat-out mean this all sounds.
“No— uh, shit, yeah, kinda. I’m sorry, this was such a bad idea. Forget I even asked—”
“Woah woah woah, I’m not saying no. I’m all for sticking it to the man or whatever. Just, what do I have to do? Movie dates and rides home?”
“I mean, yeah, kinda. We’d have to be together in every aspect. You know how people in this town love to talk. We have to sell it, y’know?”
Eddie's grin only grew wider.
"So..." He tilted his head. "We're talking the full boyfriend package."
You nodded sheepishly. "Pretty much."
He let out a low whistle. "Movie dates."
"Mhm."
"Walking you home."
"Probably."
"Holding your hand?"
You could feel warmth creeping into your cheeks. "...If people are around."
He hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin like he was negotiating a business deal worth millions.
"...You realize," he said, unable to suppress the grin threatening to split his face in two, "if we're gonna sell this..."
He leaned in just a fraction. "...I'm gonna have to be the greatest fake boyfriend Hawkins has ever seen."
You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head. "I don't think that'll be a problem."
"Oh?" Eddie asked, feigning offense. "You underestimate my dedication to the craft."
"I think I underestimate your ego."
"That's fair."
Nancy glanced between the two of you, already regretting how well you seemed to bounce off each other.
"So..." she interjected. "When exactly were you planning on starting this little social experiment?"
You looked back at Eddie. "Tomorrow."
His eyebrows shot up. "...Tomorrow?"
"My parents drop me off every morning."
"And?"
"And tomorrow..." A small smile tugged at your lips. "They won't have to."
The next morning started like any other. Alarm at 6:30 on the dot, shower, brush your hair and teeth, do your makeup, pick an outfit, and head downstairs for breakfast.
Your mother was in her usual spot in the kitchen, making the same eggs and whole-wheat toast. Your father sat at the head of the table, glasses low on his nose as he read the newspaper, mug of coffee steaming next to him.
“Morning, Hun,” he hummed. “We have to stop at the post office before school today. I gotta mail out my case notes.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Dad.” You said nervously. “I, uh, have a ride today.”
“Oh, did Nancy finally get her car fixed?” Your mother chimed in.
“Oh, uh, yeah, but…it’s not Nancy. Eddie’s actually picking me up.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Your father slowly folded up his newspaper and placed it on the counter. “Eddie? As in, Eddie Munson, Eddie?”
You winced. "...Yeah."
Your mother blinked. "The young man with the... leather?"
You almost laughed. "I think it's denim."
"The one with the chains?"
"...Probably."
"The long hair?"
"...Yes."
"The Hellfire Club?"
"...Yes."
"The one who's in detention every other Tuesday?"
You sighed. "...That's the one."
Your father leaned back in his chair, studying you with an expression that was somehow calmer than yelling would've been.
"And..." He clasped his hands together. "...Why, exactly, is Eddie Munson picking my daughter up for school?"
Your heart hammered against your ribs. “Because we’ve been…seeing eachother.”
Absolute, unwavering silence followed. Your mother and father exchanged looks before answering in unison:
"...What?"
You cleared your throat. "Eddie and I have been... seeing each other."
Your mother's wooden spatula slipped from her fingers, clattering against the stovetop. Your father stared at you as though you'd just announced you were dropping out of school to join the circus.
"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I must've misheard you."
You forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "You didn't."
"Since..." your mother began carefully, "...since when?"
"A little while."
"A little while?" your father echoed.
You nodded. "Mhm."
"And you neglected to mention this because..."
"I knew you'd react like this."
"We're reacting because you just informed us that you're dating Eddie Munson."
"I know."
You opened your mouth to argue more, but before you could, a loud, unmistakable rumble echoed from outside. It sounded like someone had awakened a dying dragon in your driveway.
All three of you turned toward the front window. The familiar roar of an aging engine settled into a rattling idle.
Your father slowly stood from the table. "...Is that him?"
As if on cue: Honk. One short beep, then another.
Your eyes squeezed shut. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
From somewhere outside came a voice that carried far too well through the quiet neighborhood. "Take your time, sweetheart!"
You whipped around toward the window in horror. "Oh, my God."
Your father walked over first, carefully pulling back the curtain with two fingers. Your mother joined him a second later.
"...Harold," she whispered.
"I see him."
"He brought flowers."
Your stomach dropped. Flowers? That wasn't part of the plan. Slowly, you walked toward the window yourself, peering over your father's shoulder. There, parked halfway into the driveway in the unmistakable rust-speckled Munson van, was Eddie.
He'd traded his usual leather jacket for his battle vest over a black T-shirt, his sunglasses perched on top of his head despite it barely being eight in the morning. And, resting casually against the side of the van like he'd rehearsed it in a mirror...
...was the single ugliest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen. Half of them looked dead, one of them might've been plastic. There was definitely baby's breath sticking out at an angle it wasn't meant to.
The second your eyes met his through the window, his face lit up. He flashed the biggest, cockiest grin imaginable before lifting the bouquet high into the air with an exaggerated little flourish. Then he gave you an enthusiastic wave.
Your father slowly let the curtain fall shut, and he turned to face you. "...He's brought you funeral flowers."
You pinched the bridge of your nose. "...I think they're supposed to be carnations."
You let out a slow, defeated sigh. "...I'll be home after school."
Neither of your parents responded. Your father simply stood with his arms folded across his chest, while your mother wore the same expression she'd had ever since the words Eddie Munson had left your mouth. It was somewhere between confusion and preparing for the worst.
Grabbing your backpack from beside the front door, you slipped your shoes on and reached for the handle. "Love you," you offered hopefully.
Your mother managed a weak smile. "...Love you too."
Your father nodded once. "We'll... talk tonight."
You swallowed. "...Sounds good."
The second the front door swung open, Eddie spotted you. He straightened from where he'd been leaning against the van, tucked the pitiful excuse for a bouquet behind his back with an almost comical flourish, and plastered on the biggest smile you'd ever seen.
"There she is!"
You had to physically stop yourself from laughing. He walked toward you with the confidence of someone arriving at prom instead of a suburban driveway at seven-thirty in the morning.
"Good morning, beautiful."
Beautiful? You'd known Eddie for less than twenty-four hours, and he was already improvising.
He stopped in front of you, producing the bouquet from behind his back like a magician revealing his greatest trick.
"For my lovely lady."
You looked down. They were somehow even uglier up close. One carnation had snapped clean in half.
"...You bought these?"
"I rescued them."
"From...?"
"The clearance bucket outside Melvald's."
You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it almost hurt.
"They were seventy-five percent off."
"How romantic."
"I know."
You accepted the bouquet, shaking your head. "They're hideous."
"I picked the worst ones."
"I can tell."
"Proud of me?"
"...A little."
His grin widened. "Excellent."
Then, before you had time to react, he reached out, brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face with surprising gentleness…and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. It was quick, sweet, and almost innocent.
But if anyone happened to be watching from inside, it looked incredibly convincing. Your eyes widened ever so slightly. When he pulled away, he leaned in just enough to whisper:
"...Sorry."
You blinked. "For what?"
"I panicked."
"...You panic by kissing people?"
"Apparently."
Before you could answer, the front door creaked open behind you. Both of your parents stepped onto the porch.
Eddie immediately turned, the picture of charm. "Mr. and Mrs!," he called cheerfully, raising a hand in greeting. "Pleasure to finally meet you."
Your father looked him up and down. "...Is it?"
Eddie didn't miss a beat. "It certainly is for me, sir."
"So..." your father began slowly. "You're Eddie."
"The one and only."
"I've heard... things."
Eddie rested a hand dramatically over his heart. "I'm hoping only the good ones."
"I sincerely doubt they were."
"Oh." He nodded thoughtfully. "...Probably."
You could actually see your father's brain trying to determine whether Eddie was genuinely this odd or simply putting on a performance. Spoiler alert: it was both.
"So," your father continued, "you're driving my daughter to school."
"I am."
"You'll obey the speed limit."
"Absolutely."
"No reckless driving."
"Never."
"No funny business."
Eddie frowned slightly. "...Define funny."
You closed your eyes. "Eddie..."
"What?" he asked innocently. "I'm asking for clarification."
Your father's expression remained perfectly flat. "You know exactly what I mean."
Eddie's own smile softened. "I do."
Then, for the first time since he'd arrived, he answered without a trace of sarcasm. "I'll get her there safely, sir."
The sincerity in his voice caught everyone a little off guard; hell, even your father seemed surprised. After a moment, he gave one curt nod.
"I expect you will."
"I will."
With that, Eddie walked around to the passenger side of the van and pulled the door open with an exaggerated bow. "Your chariot awaits."
You rolled your eyes. "What a gentleman."
"I have my moments."
Climbing into the passenger seat, you waited until he rounded the front of the van and slid into the driver's seat before the two of you looked at one another. There was exactly half a second of silence, then you burst into laughter.
Eddie looked over, trying and failing to suppress his own smile. "...What's so funny?"
"You."
"Me?"
"You kissed my forehead!"
"You said we had to sell it."
"I did not say before eight in the morning!"
"You never specified business hours."
You laughed harder. "And those flowers?"
He gasped dramatically. "They cost me a dollar twenty-five."
"They looked like they'd already attended a funeral."
"They did."
You stared at him. "...What?"
"I may or may not have bought them from the cemetery."
Your jaw dropped. "Eddie!"
"I'm kidding!"
"...Were you?"
"...Mostly."
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I have made the biggest mistake of my entire life."
He shifted the van into gear, a smug grin settling onto his face. "Oh, sweetheart."
The engine rumbled to life. "We're only on day one."
The drive to school had only been the beginning. Once Eddie committed to something, it quickly became apparent that he didn't know how to do it halfway.
The second the first bell rang, he'd slung his backpack over one shoulder and casually fallen into step beside you as though the two of you had been doing it for years.
"History first?" he'd asked.
"Mhm."
"Excellent."
You'd expected him to walk you halfway there, maybe to the end of the hallway. Instead, he'd walked you all the way to your classroom, leaned casually against the doorframe while you gathered your books, and smiled down at you.
"I'll see you after second period."
"...You know my schedule?"
He'd pulled a folded piece of notebook paper from his pocket. "Made a copy."
You stared. "...When?"
"Nancy."
You looked over your shoulder at her, so Nancy simply shrugged. "He asked."
"You gave it to him?"
"He was very persuasive."
Eddie tucked the paper back into his vest. "I'm an actor, sweetheart. Continuity is everything."
Sure enough, the moment second period ended, he was already waiting outside your classroom. Then again after third. Then fourth. By lunchtime, the entire school had noticed.
Girls whispered when you walked past. Basketball players openly stared. Freshmen practically dove out of Eddie's way when he slipped an arm lazily over your shoulders while walking through the hallway.
If anyone had doubted the relationship that morning, they certainly didn't anymore. Which was exactly why you found yourself carrying your lunch tray toward the Hellfire table instead of your usual seat beside Nancy.
You stopped dead in your tracks. "...People are going to think I've lost my mind."
Eddie looked up from unwrapping his sandwich. "They already think that."
"...Helpful."
He scooted over and pulled up a chair for you. "C'mon."
With a resigned sigh, you slid in beside him. Almost immediately, the rest of Hellfire fell silent. Gareth looked at Jeff. Jeff looked at Mike. Mike looked at Dustin. Dustin's eyes darted between you and Eddie so fast you were surprised they didn't get stuck.
"...Holy shit," Gareth muttered.
"It's real," Jeff whispered.
Eddie looked offended. "You doubted me?"
"We doubted her."
You couldn't even blame them. A few minutes later, Nancy and Jonathan wandered over, trays in hand.
"Mind if we join?" Jonathan asked.
"Please do," you replied. "I need normal people."
Eddie gasped dramatically.
By the final bell, your social battery had all but evaporated. Being the center of attention all day was exhausting. You were halfway through stuffing books into your locker when Nancy appeared beside you.
"So..." she began.
You looked up.
"I think Phase One was a success."
"You think?"
"I've already heard three different people say they 'always knew' you and Eddie had chemistry."
You groaned. "People are unbelievable."
"They're bored."
"Fair."
Jonathan joined the two of you, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. "Speaking of bored..."
Nancy suddenly snapped her fingers. "Oh!"
She looked between you and Eddie. "I almost forgot."
"What?"
"The drive-in's doing a horror double feature tomorrow night."
Eddie perked up immediately. "...Seriously?"
Jonathan nodded. "I drove past this morning."
"They're showing The Evil Dead and A Nightmare on Elm Street."
Eddie's jaw practically hit the floor. "No way."
"Way."
"They never play good movies."
"I know."
Nancy smiled. "Jonathan wanted to go..."
Jonathan looked over at her. "...Did I?"
"You do now."
He chuckled. "I guess I do."
She turned back toward you and Eddie. "You guys should come."
You blinked.
"As..." She wiggled her eyebrows. "...A couple."
You looked instinctively toward Eddie.
"A public date," he mused. "Excellent for maintaining the illusion."
Nancy laughed. "See? He's getting it."
"Oh, he got it the second he showed up with cemetery flowers."
"They weren't cemetery flowers," Eddie defended.
"They were discount flowers."
"There's a difference."
Jonathan smiled, shaking his head. "So..."
He looked between the two of you. "Tomorrow night?"
You glanced at Eddie, and he gave a tiny shrug. "I'm free."
"...Yeah." You nodded. "I think we'd like that."
The following evening arrived far quicker than you would've liked. Somewhere between surviving an entire day of whispers at school and convincing your mother that, yes, you really were just going to the drive-in with "friends," the reality of the situation had begun to settle in.
You were going on your first date. Granted, it was fake. But somehow that only made your stomach twist even more.
After changing into a pair of jeans, one of your favorite sweaters, and throwing on a light coat for the chilly October air, you gave yourself one final look in the hallway mirror.
"Ready?" your mother called from downstairs.
"As I'll ever be."
The words had barely left your mouth when the doorbell rang. Your father looked up from his armchair.
"That'll be him." You exchanged a quick glance with your mother before making your way toward the front door, only for your father to beat you there. "I'll get it."
The door swung open, and standing on the porch was Eddie.
His curls had clearly been tamed…well, as much as Eddie Munson's curls could ever be tamed.
He'd swapped his usual ripped Hellfire shirt for a plain black waffle long-sleeved shirt. His jeans were still ripped, his boots still scuffed, and there were just as many rings decorating his fingers as always.
He'd made an effort, in the most Eddie way possible.
The moment he saw your father, he straightened. "Evening, sir."
Your father regarded him carefully. "...Munson."
"Eddie works."
Your father didn't smile. "I'm sure it does."
You quickly slipped between them before things could somehow become awkwarder than they already were. "Hi."
The second Eddie looked at you, his entire expression softened. "...Wow."
You felt heat creep into your cheeks. "What?"
"You..." He smiled to himself before shaking his head. "You look really nice."
"...Thanks."
Your father cleared his throat, and Eddie immediately remembered where he was.
"Right." He clasped his hands behind his back almost like a soldier awaiting inspection. "So..."
Your father folded his arms. "So."
"I understand we're going to the drive-in."
"We are."
"And I understand Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler will be there."
"They will."
"Good."
"You'll have her home by eleven."
Eddie nodded immediately. "Absolutely."
"If plans change, she calls."
"Of course."
"If that van breaks down—"
"It won't."
Your father raised an eyebrow. "It might."
"...It might."
"And if it does?"
"I'll call."
"You won't let her walk home alone."
"I wouldn't let her walk across the parking lot alone."
Your father's posture eased... just a fraction. "Good."
He stepped aside. "You kids have fun."
"We will, sir."
As you stepped off the porch, Eddie quietly reached for your hand. You glanced down at your intertwined fingers before looking back up at him.
He leaned over just enough to murmur, "...Audience."
You looked back toward the front window, and sure enough, your parents were watching through the curtains. "...Right."
The drive itself was surprisingly easy. The windows were cracked just enough to let the cool autumn air drift through the van while some old rock station played quietly over the speakers.
You talked about school. About Gareth somehow managing to fail another chemistry quiz. About Dustin insisting he'd seen a UFO behind Family Video. By the time the glowing marquee for the Hawkins Drive-In appeared in the distance, you'd almost forgotten this wasn't real.
Eddie paid for both of your tickets before steering toward the back row.
You frowned. "...Shouldn't we park closer?"
"Nope."
"Why?"
"You'll see."
He killed the engine before hopping out of the driver's seat. "C'mere."
Curiosity getting the better of you, you followed him around to the back of the van. He swung the rear doors open with both hands.
"...Ta-da."
You stopped walking. "...Eddie."
The inside of the van looked nothing like you'd expected.
The back seats had been folded flat, replaced with what looked like every blanket he owned layered over an old mattress pad. Pillows were piled against the sides, making a little nest beneath a strand of warm white battery-powered string lights he'd somehow managed to drape across the ceiling.
There were even two lawn chairs folded neatly in the corner in case you wanted to sit outside instead.
"...What..."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "So..."
You climbed a little closer, running your hand across one of the impossibly soft blankets. "You did all this?"
He shrugged like it was no big deal. "I figured drive-ins are more fun when you're comfortable."
Your eyes wandered farther; a little cooler sat tucked against the wall. Curious, you opened it. Inside were glass bottles of Coke, your favorite cherry licorice, peanut M&M's, movie theater butter popcorn. Even the little strawberry candies you'd absentmindedly mentioned liking while sitting at lunch two days ago.
You looked back at him. "...How do you even know all of this?"
"You told Gareth those strawberry candies reminded you of your grandma."
You blinked. "...You remembered that?"
"Sure."
Still speechless, you reached into the back again.
"...Is this..." You pulled out a folded gray sweatshirt. "...Mine?"
"Nah." He laughed. "It's mine."
You looked at him, confused.
"It's supposed to get cold later."
"So?"
"So..." He looked at you like the answer was obvious. "You complained yesterday that you always underestimate how cold October gets."
"...I did."
"So I brought an extra sweatshirt."
You stared at him. "Eddie..."
For the first time since you'd met him, he actually looked a little shy. "What?"
"I thought this was supposed to be fake."
"It is."
"You didn't have to do..." You gestured helplessly toward the cozy little setup he'd somehow built in the back of the van. "...all of this."
A grin slowly spread across his face. "Oh."
He leaned casually against the open door. "...This?"
You nodded, and he shrugged. "Fake boyfriend package."
You laughed. "No."
"What?"
"This is way above the fake boyfriend package."
He feigned offense. "You wound me."
"Eddie."
"I'm serious."
He pointed into the van. "Blankets."
Another finger. "Snacks."
Another. "Emergency sweatshirt."
He spread both hands proudly. "I'm providing a premium service here."
You laughed so hard you had to grab the side of the van to steady yourself. "I'm going to have to leave you a five-star review."
"Damn right you are."
Then, quieter, his grin softening into something far less performative.
"I just..." He looked over the little setup. "...Figured if we're pretending to date..."
His shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "...You should get at least one really good date out of it."
The drive-in ended up being surprisingly perfect. Neither of you paid much attention to the first movie.
Instead, the two of you spent most of it making sarcastic commentary under your breath, sharing popcorn, and arguing over whether The Evil Dead was genuinely terrifying or just "creative low-budget filmmaking," as Eddie insisted.
By the second feature, the October air had turned considerably colder. Without saying a word, Eddie reached behind him, grabbed the sweatshirt he'd packed, and draped it over your shoulders before you even had the chance to complain.
You'd rolled your eyes as he'd simply grinned. "Premium service."
By the time the credits rolled, your cheeks hurt from smiling.
True to his word, Eddie pulled into your driveway at exactly 10:50, ten whole minutes before your curfew. Your father was already waiting on the porch, arms crossed, watching.
Eddie climbed out first, walking around to open your door before helping you step down from the van with an exaggerated flourish. "Milady."
You curtsied dramatically. "Thank you, kind sir."
He placed a hand over his heart. "My pleasure."
Your father watched the exchange carefully as the two of you walked toward the porch. "You made good time."
Eddie nodded. "Told you I would."
Your father checked his watch. "...You're early."
"I figured ten minutes was a safe buffer."
"...Smart."
It wasn't exactly praise. But coming from your father, it was pretty damn close.
"Goodnight, sir."
"Goodnight, Eddie."
You glanced between them. "...Goodnight."
As you headed inside, you couldn't help but notice your father watching Eddie climb back into the van.
Your mother appeared beside him. "So?"
He kept his eyes on the driveway. "...He was respectful."
You nearly tripped over your own feet. Respectful? From your father? Maybe hell really had frozen over.
One fake date somehow became two, then three. Then somewhere along the line, the lines started blurring.
Eddie still picked you up for school almost every morning. He still walked you to every class. He'd started carrying your books without asking. Holding doors open. Stealing fries off your lunch tray despite insisting he "didn't want any."
You'd retaliated by drinking half his chocolate milk whenever he looked away. A silent war had begun that neither of you intended to lose.
The town, of course, ate it up. Mrs. Thompson at Melvald's gave the two of you a knowing smile every time you stopped in after school. The librarian had started saving romance novels "for the young couple." Even Principal Higgins had caught Eddie kissing the top of your head outside English one afternoon.
Instead of detention, he'd simply sighed. "Keep it appropriate, Munson."
"Always do."
The moment Higgins rounded the corner, Eddie looked down at you. "...That counted, right?"
You laughed. "I think we sold it."
"Excellent."
The phone calls hadn't been part of the plan. It started because Eddie called one evening to ask if your father had "bought the hand-holding today."
That conversation lasted fifteen minutes. The next night became thirty. By Friday, the two of you had somehow spent nearly two hours talking about everything and absolutely nothing.
Favorite movies. Childhood stories. Music. Why Garfield was objectively the funniest comic strip ever printed.
You'd started waiting for the sound of your phone ringing around nine every night. And like clockwork, you’d always answered.
Before long, pretending started feeling easy and dangerously comfortable. Sometimes you'd catch yourself laughing before Eddie even finished the joke.
Sometimes he'd bring you your favorite soda without asking. Sometimes he'd absentmindedly reach for your hand crossing a parking lot before either of you remembered there wasn't actually anyone around to witness it.
Neither of you acknowledged those moments; you simply kept the "bit" going.
"So." Jonathan leaned back in his cafeteria chair one afternoon, looking around the table. "I heard something."
Nancy looked up from her sandwich. "...Should we be worried?"
"Probably."
Eddie nodded approvingly. "I like where this is going."
Jonathan ignored him. "My friend at community college said there's a party this Saturday."
That immediately caught everyone's attention. "A college party?" Nancy asked.
Jonathan nodded. "Apparently one of the fraternities is throwing a Halloween thing."
You, Nancy, and Eddie exchanged glances. None of you had been to a college party before. Jonathan noticed the exchange and smiled.
"I was thinking..." He pointed between the two of you. "You guys should come."
Nancy perked up immediately. "Oh my God, yes."
"It'd be fun," Jonathan continued. "Nobody there knows either of you, so there's no pressure. Just music, some booze..." He shrugged. "Besides, Darren goes there, doesn't he?"
Your stomach flipped. "...Yeah."
Jonathan smiled. "Perfect."
Nancy's eyes widened as the implications dawned on her. "Oh."
"Oh."
Nancy was the first one to put the pieces together. Her eyes widened as she looked between you and Eddie. "...Wait."
You glanced over.
"If your parents think Eddie's taking you..." She pointed toward Jonathan. "...Then they'll have absolutely no problem letting you go."
You nodded absentmindedly. "...I guess."
Jonathan shrugged. "And if Darren happens to be there..."
The name hit you like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over your head.
Darren. Right.
For a brief, almost embarrassing moment, you'd forgotten. Not forgotten him, exactly. Just forgotten that he was the entire reason any of this had started.
Your mind flashed back to the phone call you'd had with him a few nights earlier. The conversation had been nice, comfortable even. He'd asked how school was going. You'd told him "good." He'd told you about a biology exam. You'd wished him luck.
Then, before hanging up, you'd mentioned you couldn't talk much longer because Eddie was supposed to call in a few minutes. Only after you'd said it had you realized how naturally the words had come out.
You blinked. "...Oh."
Eddie noticed the shift in your expression almost immediately. "What?"
You looked back at the table. "...Nothing."
Jonathan continued, oblivious. "He'll probably be there somewhere."
“Yeah…” You said, sinking into your seat. "Probably."
By the time the night of the party rolled around, you were equal parts nervous and excited. The excitement, however, had very little to do with the party itself. It had everything to do with the ridiculous argument you'd had with Eddie three nights prior.
"If we're going," he'd said over the phone, "we're wearing matching costumes."
You'd laughed. "No."
"Yes."
"Absolutely not."
"We're a couple."
"A fake couple."
"A distinction with very little importance."
You'd groaned into the receiver. "Eddie..."
"We have to sell it."
"We're already selling it."
"No, sweetheart." You could practically hear the grin in his voice. "We're raising the bar."
Which explained why you were currently standing in front of your bedroom mirror wearing a black, studded mini dress layered over a fishnet top, ripped tights, and heavy combat boots. A spiked choker sat snug around your neck.
Your hair had been teased and left wild, half-pinned back with a chain clip Eddie had insisted on adding himself earlier.
“Needs more attitude,” he’d said, concentrating like he was defusing a bomb.
You’d called it ridiculous; he’d called it perfect.
A knock sounded downstairs.
"He's here!" your mother called.
You grabbed your leather jacket, shrugging it on as you hurried downstairs. The second you rounded the corner into the foyer, Eddie looked up and promptly forgot how to speak.
Gone were the ripped jeans and Hellfire tee. Instead, he wore black skinny jeans, a sleeveless band tee layered under a distressed denim vest covered in patches, and heavy boots that looked like they’d seen more than one mosh pit.
Eddie had somehow managed to style his own hair into a wild, voluminous mess of teased curls and waves, half of it pulled back with a chain and leather wrap, the rest spilling around his face like he’d stepped straight out of a metal album cover.
A few strands fell into his eyes, but he didn’t brush them away. He just stared at you.
"...Holy shit."
You smiled. "What?"
"You..." He shook his head slowly, like he couldn’t quite process it. "You actually did it."
"You look like you belong in a band."
"I do belong in a band."
"You belong in a very loud band."
He grinned, stepping closer. "You look..." His voice softened just slightly. "...Really good."
You felt heat rise in your cheeks. "You don’t look so bad yourself."
Your father chose that exact moment to clear his throat. The two of you jumped apart as though you'd been caught committing a crime.
"Evening, Eddie."
"Sir..."
Your father looked him over. "...Interesting costume."
Eddie glanced down at himself. "Thanks."
"You know..." Your father folded his arms. "...People in bands tend to make questionable life choices."
Eddie nodded seriously. "Yeah, I’ve heard that. I’m trying to keep my record clean tonight, sir."
That earned the smallest twitch at the corner of your father’s mouth.
"So," your father continued, "college party."
"Yes, sir."
"You understand there’ll be drinking."
"There probably will be."
"You won’t be."
"No, sir."
"You’ll make sure she isn’t."
"I will."
"And if anything feels off..."
"We leave." He finishes.
Your father studied him for another second before nodding. "...Midnight."
"We’ll be back before then."
He looked toward you. "Phone?"
You held it up.
"Wallet?"
You patted your pocket.
"Keys?"
Eddie jingled them.
"...Have fun."
The fraternity house was impossible to miss. Music thumped loudly enough to rattle the windows while clusters of college students spilled across the front lawn, laughing beneath strings of orange lights and fake cobwebs. The moment the four of you stepped out of the van, heads turned.
Jonathan leaned toward Nancy. "...I think they win."
Nancy smiled. "They absolutely win."
One college girl walking past pointed excitedly. "Oh, my God!" She laughed. “Sharron and Ozzie!"
Eddie immediately slid an arm around your shoulders. "See?" he murmured. "Worth it."
"...Debatable."
Inside, the house was somehow even louder. A surprising number of people in ripped band tees and eyeliner that looked suspiciously rushed. You spent the first hour simply existing.
You danced exactly once, mostly because Eddie refused to accept no for an answer.
"You have two options," he'd informed you.
"Dance..." He held out one hand. "...Or I throw a fit in this living room."
"...Those aren't good options."
"They absolutely are."
You’d taken his hand before he embarrassed both of you. Nancy had laughed so hard she’d nearly spilled her drink. You were having genuine amounts of fun, almost enough to make you forget why you were there in the first place.
"I'm gonna find the bathroom," you announced after another song ended.
Finding the bathroom proved far easier than finding your way back. You’d barely stepped into the upstairs hallway before a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.
"...Babe?"
Your heart skipped, and slowly, you turned around. "Darren?"
He smiled, equally surprised. "I thought Jonathan said you might be coming."
"I almost didn't."
He laughed. "I didn't think I'd actually run into you."
"So..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You look nice."
You smiled politely. "Thanks. You too."
His eyes drifted over your costume. "...Metal?"
"Mhm."
"Cute."
"So..." he asked carefully. "How've you been?"
Meanwhile downstairs, Eddie checked his watch. "Huh."
Jonathan looked over. "What?"
"She's been gone a while."
Nancy frowned. "...You're right."
"I'll go find her."
"You know where the bathroom is?"
"I'll figure it out."
He checked one door, and then another.
Then, "...Oh."
His footsteps stopped because halfway down the hall stood you. Laughing, talking with a guy: college-aged, a little taller than him, and standing much closer than Eddie would've liked.
Darren. Of course. This was literally the entire reason any of this existed.
His grip around his cup tightened as he watched Darren smile at something you said and watched you smile back.
What had he expected? That you’d forget about the guy you’ve been trying so hard to introduce to your parents?
That this fake relationship had somehow...He cut the thought off before it finished. The cup slipped through his fingers, and it clinked softly against the floor.
Your head whipped toward the sound. "Eddie?"
Your eyes had met then, and he stared at you solemnly for a second before shaking his head and scurrying away.
"Eddie!"
You looked back at Darren only long enough to offer an apologetic smile. "I'm... I'm sorry. I have to go."
Before he could answer, you were already hurrying after the retreating figure, disappearing down the staircase.
“Eddie! Hey…Jesus Christ, you walk fast—Fuck, hey!”
You finally caught his wrist just as he pushed through the front door of the fraternity house; the October air hit both of you immediately.
"Eddie."
He stopped walking, and for a second, you swore he'd turn around. He didn't. Instead, he let out a slow breath through his nose, staring out at the sea of cars parked along the lawn.
"...You should go back inside."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I was literally coming to find you."
"No." He laughed once, humorlessly. "You were talking to Darren."
"I was saying hello."
"Mhm."
"Eddie."
He finally turned around then, his eyes glossy. He wasn’t crying, not yet, but somewhere dangerously close. "You don't have to explain yourself."
"What?"
"You don't owe me an explanation."
"I wasn't trying to—"
"No." He shook his head. "Seriously."
He laughed a short and almost bitter laugh. "You don't."
You frowned. "You're my—"
He cut you off. "Fake boyfriend.
“You were talking to the guy you actually like." He shrugged. "I get it."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
"No—"
"I was just..." He rubbed both hands over his face before letting out another disbelieving laugh. "Jesus Christ."
His shoulders slumped. "What the hell did I think was gonna happen?"
"Eddie..."
"What?" he asked, throwing one hand into the air. "That I actually convinced myself the prettiest girl in Hawkins High was gonna wake up one morning and decide she wanted me?"
He wasn't looking at you anymore; his gaze was fixed beyond your shoulder, talking more to himself than to you.
"I'm the fucking freak."
"Eddie—"
"And somewhere along the way..." He shook his head. "I forgot."
You stepped closer. "You forgot what?"
"That this..." He gestured between the two of you. "...was never real. You know what the worst part is?"
"Eddie..."
"I started believing it. I started believing all the stupid little things."
He counted them off on his fingers. "The phone calls. The drive-in. You stealing my fries. You laughing at my dumb jokes."
He laughed again. "I started thinking..." He stopped himself. "No."
"Eddie, finish that sentence."
"I started thinking maybe..." His jaw tightened. "Maybe you actually enjoyed being around me."
"I do."
"You have to."
"No."
"You literally have to!" he exclaimed, his voice finally rising. "That's the whole deal!"
"I don't."
"You don't?"
"I don't have to."
He blinked as you took another step forward. "I call you because I want to."
He stared.
"I laugh because you're funny. I go to the record store with you because I like going. With you."
"Eddie..." You swallowed. "I would've kept talking to Darren for maybe another minute."
You gestured toward the house. "I chased after you. Like, I've barely thought about Darren this entire month."
Those words surprised both of you, mainly because you hadn't meant to say them out loud.
"I..." You frowned. "I don't know when that happened."
"Eddie..."
He looked away. "I really don't want you to say something just because you feel bad."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
He let out another dry laugh, shaking his head. "You don't have to spare my feelings."
"I'm not trying to spare your feelings, you idiot!"
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you searched for the right words. "I don't know how else to say this."
"You don't have to say anything."
"Yes, I do."
"Eddie..." Your voice softened. "I like you."
He smiled sadly. "I know."
"No." You shook your head. "I don't think you do."
He frowned.
"I like you. Like..."
You let out a nervous laugh, one hand coming up to rub the back of your neck. "Like, I genuinely like you."
He froze so much so that you could almost see the sentence replaying itself in his head. "...What?"
"I like you."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I really, really do."
He stared at you as though you'd started speaking another language. "You came up with this whole fake dating thing because of Darren."
"I know."
"You wanted me to make him look better."
"I know."
"You've been trying to introduce him to your parents for weeks."
"I know."
"So..." He gave another confused laugh. "How the hell does this happen?"
You laughed through the tears threatening to form. "I don't know."
"I think..." You looked down at your shoes before meeting his eyes again.
"I think it happened somewhere between you showing up with those horrible flowers..."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"...And remembering my favorite candy."
You smiled weakly. "And the drive-in. And the phone calls. And you walking me to every class. You remembered all the little things I said without me ever asking you to."
"You made pretending feel so easy that..." You shook your head. "...I forgot we were pretending."
His lips parted. "I almost forgot Darren existed."
The admission hung in the cool night air.
"I went the entire time without thinking about him once." You laughed softly to yourself. "And then Jonathan mentioned the college party..."
You shrugged helplessly. "...And I realized I'd spent more time wondering what costume we would wear rather than seeing Darren."
"So..." You offered him the smallest, most nervous smile he'd ever seen.
"I guess somewhere along the way..."
You reached down and gently took his hand. "...I stopped fake dating you."
He looked down at your intertwined fingers, then back up at you. "...You're serious."
You nodded. "I've never been more serious."
He smiled so wide it almost looked painful. "...Guess I'm gonna have to start putting in some real boyfriend effort now, huh?"
“Should I be afraid to find out what that entails?”
“Oh yeah. Very much so.”
me giggling and kicking my feet at how cute ts is
since ik you all far too well and love adding more projects for myself...
the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
Happy 1 year of the best Johnny Storm and the best Fantastic 4!!!! 💙🧡💙🧡
They made me love Marvel again and it was so nice to fall in love with another character from the MCU. Can't wait to see them in Avengers Doomsday! They beter be ok by the end! 🤧
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