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angst-✠| fluff-⌠| series-â
STRANGER THINGS
-Eddie Munson-
The Princess and the Freak âŒâœâ | Moodboard | Playlist | Harrington!Reader. Y/N Harrington hates Hawkins. The town has chewed you up and spit you back out, and you're quite frankly done trying to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary happens there. Right when you think have no other choice but to say screw it and leave everything you care about in the godforsaken place behind, none other than Eddie Munson gives you another option. But what happens when the very person that offers you an escape from everything youâre trying to ignore gets dragged right into the middle of it allâŠ.
Chapter One
Chapter Two (Coming soon!)
Sanctuary âŒâœ | Neighbor!Eddie. Y/N wants nothing more than to graduate and get the hell out of Hawkins. After her mom died, and she moved to Forest Hills with her father, her life took a drastic change for the worse. Some days the only thing that gets her to smile is her random conversations with her neighbor, none other than the town's resident 'freak' Eddie Munson. They quickly sparked a close friendship, leaning on each other in their darkest moments. Overtime, he shows her that you don't always need to go hours away to find a sanctuary from what you need to run from.
PANIC
-Ray Hall-
(CURRENTLY DISCONTINUED) Risk it All âŒâ | Female o.c. This is the story of feelings. This is the story of the summer Shay Langley played PANIC. But most importantly, this is the story of the girl who wanted out and the boy who wanted her to stay.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
my main masterlist - eddie masterlist - series masterlist
previous chapter - next chapter
summary: school acceptance letters. confrontations. spiraling. oh, and eddie kisses you now!
warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, mentions of shitty parents (yet again), mentions of healing wounds, talks of vomit, smoking (of the mary jane sort), being high, smarty pants reader, kissing, and a tiny bit of sexual tension (ha we are getting there). omitting some tags to prevent spoilers, so tread lightly!
a/n: it's been over a month... my apologies! september was a nightmare just like august was! thank you for sticking by and waiting on me! i appreciate the love this fic gets. please leave me your thoughts! i will try to be better about updating <3
The radio informs you that all of Hawkins is shut down. It was a snow day. School is cancelled.
The blanket of cold, fluffy snowflakes was about 3 feet tall by morning, and you could hardly make it out of your house. Your heater was working overtime, and you were still wearing three layers.
Your Mom never made it home last night. You assumed she got stuck at the diner, so calling her was the only way to make sure. You were not particularly worried about her, since this had happened before. She would just stay overnight at the diner and wait until the roads were plowed. But after everything with your Dad, you needed to be sure she was safe.
When you picked up the house phone on the wall, the line was dead. Someone forgot to pay a bill.
But you know someone who had a house phone, and youâre almost positive he would let you use it.
You get on your snow pants and too-small-for-your-adult-feet snow boots and trudge through the mountains of snow. The townâs plows would be around midday probably. You knew after living in Forest Hills your entire life that it was always the last to get attention like that.
It takes you five minutes to walk across the street when it usually takes you 30 seconds. The moment you get beside Eddieâs half-buried van, you prop your hand on the window and take a couple of shallow breaths. It was like a workout trekking through the mountains of packed snow.
You manage to swipe Eddieâs walk-up steps with your foot before knocking on the door.
Wayne opens the door, his eyes wide in surprise that you are already back over here. The look on his face reminds you a lot of Eddie, which makes you giggle. They shared some common features and apparently, some facial expressions.
âHey there,â He remarks, opening the door slowly for you. You take that as your invitation in, so you kick off your suffocating boots and slip off your water resistant pants, still having two layers of pants on under. You walk inside, inhaling the much warmer air of their trailer.
âSorry to barge in, I just-â
âHey, sweetheart,â His voice is husky and laced with sleep still, cutting you off mid-sentence. You turn to your left, seeing him sauntering down the hallway, all bruised and battered, but shirtless. His pajama pants sit low, right below his tummy, and you swear you forgot how to breathe.
You hadnât seen that stomach in months. And itâs just as jarring as before.
You need to speak. You cannot make it obvious that heâs driving your mind into overdrive by being shirtless. Especially because Wayne is right there next to you.
âHi,â You say, your voice small, âI just need to borrow your phone. My mom didnât come home last night.â
Eddieâs foot falls are heavy against his trailer floor, so much so that you are afraid he may fall through the subfloor. The phone is positioned right on the wall near the kitchen, so he grabs it off the hook and places it against his ear. You are like a feral woman watching his arm flex and his right pectoral twitch. You can tell by the smile creeping across his face that he knows you are staring. With the phone still up to his ear, his other hand raises towards your face. He taps your cold, wet nose with his pointer finger.
âLookinâ at something, baby?â
Your brain goes blank at the nickname. Even if he had called you that the day before, it still rattles your bones. You are no longer just his sunshine.
You stand there, shoulders tense, eyes wide and pleading. The first thing that comes to mind in response is âdamn, his eye looks worse than it did last night.â
So thatâs what comes out.
âYour eye looks worse today.â
He recoils at your comment, his hand resting on his bare chest in offense. Wayne just snickers behind you, finding a spot on the springy couch nearby.
âI iced it after you left last night. It throbbed all night,â He admits, placing the phone back on the hook. You step towards him, getting out of Wayneâs eyeline and finally touching his face with gentle ease.
âDid you take anything for the pain?â Your fingers graze his cheek, down to his stubbly chin. He shakes his head, his lips moving in contemplation. You, of course, do not like this response. You somehow knew he would be stubborn about healing, so just when you mutter his name to reprimand him, he grabs your waist.
âI thought you came here to use my phone, not play nurse?â
You pinch his chin, trying your very best not to crack a smile, âIâm an excellent multitasker, Munson.â
When he scrunches his face, you can tell it hurts him. Your brows raise, almost to say, âSee, dumbass, you need pain relief.â
He takes the bait the moment you make a face, âFine, Iâll smoke some and itâll ease the pain.â
You smile then, releasing his face and grabbing the phone from off the hook and placing it between your ear and your shoulder. Eddie watches from right beside you, his head tilting against the yellowing walls, smirking at your now serious expression. You dial the diner's number. It rings twice before the cook picks up.
âHey Kevin, is my Mom there?â
A grunt before a gruff, âYeah, she stayed overnight with Sharon. Need to talk to her?â
You did, but you did not think it was the right time to break the news to her. Sheâs probably already pissed off and annoyed having to sleep in a booth at the diner overnight because of how bad the roads were, so you just clear your throat and accept the idea of a conversation for later. âNo, Iâll talk to her when she gets home. Thanks, see you later.â
He hangs up without saying goodbye.
Eddie moves to grab the phone from you, his bruised fingers brushing your cheek. âShe good?â
With a small jerk of your head, you mutter a zipped, âYeah.â
You watch as Wayne stomps into the kitchen, sipping on his coffee from a mug that reads 'Indianapolis' Tractor Trailer Rodeo, 1975'. You had no clue what that even meant. You wouldn't ask.
He moves towards the fridge near where you and Eddie are holed up. âYou two want some eggs?â
Eddieâs quick to respond before you could politely decline Wayneâs hospitality. âThatâd be great, Wayne. Sweets likes them scrambled with cheese.â
âEddie-â
ââM gonna go get a shirt on. You wanna tag along for the journey?â
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, eyes drawing back down over his creamy white skin. Another grin. Another dry heave of air leaves your lips. âGo. Iâm sick of looking at you half-naked.â
âDonât lie to yourself, sweetheart.â
-
You had not seen your Dad in over a month. Much to your Motherâs chagrin.
You had no clue where he was. Where he was staying. He was just gone.
You knew she would blame you, but instead of raging about how you drove him away by telling him to not come back, she forced you to work extra long hours to pay half the bills. By the time you got home from work some nights, you had a good four hours to sleep before you were waking up to catch a ride with Eddie to school.
And all your tips? They were your Momâs. The idea of getting your own car was a pipe dream at this point. All your time was spent at school or slaving for pennies to give to your Mom.
This also meant that you only really saw Eddie at school.
Which, that dynamic changed a lot. But not as much as you thought it would.
It was still slow-moving.
Every morning, Eddie would open the passenger side door for you and upon entry of his van, you would give him a quick peck on the lips. It never failed to make your stomach twist with butterflies, feeling him against you like that. He would shut your door with a huge smile on his face and it made your heart swell. He had this pull to him now that he didnât have before.
You looked forward to those morning kisses, all tasting like cigarettes and toothpaste.
His face had healed well, with only a small scar residing on his cheek. You hate to think he has to look in the mirror every day and think about that fateful day. His scars were obvious, while yours were more internal. Still painful, with nothing to show for.
âThey make me look tough, baby.â He would tell you.
On the way to school, he would hold your hand or tap your thigh to the beat of some song he was singing. You mostly stayed quiet while he droned on about a new record, Corroded Coffin, or the campaign he was planning for Hellfire. All things you couldnât really add commentary on, so you just listened. Nodding. Smiling.
You loved listening to him, truly.
-
On a night you got off work earlier, he called you the moment you got out of the shower, like he somehow knew your exact movements. He asked if you wanted to smoke with him. You agreed to it. And in between discussions about life, your hopes, his dreams, you stole some occasional kisses. He lazily smiled after every one, eyes dreamily dancing around your face.
You two had not gotten far when it came to intimacy. Itâs not that you didnât want to, per se. Neither of you had initiated anything. You didnât really know how, and Eddie seemed just fine peppering you with kisses and the occasional bear hug.
You ended up dozing off wrapped in one of his blankets. Between the lack of sleep you had been enduring the last month and a half and the amazing high you got from Eddieâs joint, you had no qualms about stealing his bed. He took a spot on the floor next to you, arm still propped up against the bed frame so his hand was close to yours. You woke up in the middle of the night in a slight panic. You look down, seeing him lying on his back, eyes fluttering shut. You surprisingly retreated back onto the flat pillow under you once your heart stopped racing. He looked so soft and peaceful, you did not want to stir him awake by creeping out of his house. So instead, you fell asleep watching his chest rise and fall.
But you did reiterate the next morning on the way to school that it would not be a recurring theme, due to the fact that your Mom would chew you out for not making it home when she told you to. He just shrugged, telling you that you were always welcome to steal his bed.
You loved the idea of being so close to him. You thought about how you felt more comfortable in his bed than your own bed with the heater next to it. It hardly kept your room at 70 degrees. Eddieâs trailer always felt warmer, more welcoming. And he was there, which only added to the appeal.
Everything at school seemed good. Normal. You even occasionally chatted with Robin in the library or the hallways. You could see how Eddie befriended her in class because neither of them really shuts up. It was always a battle to see who got the sarcastic quip out first. She usually took over the conversation with you, but you were more than happy to hear her talk about random things if it meant you did not have to be alone.
Robin was nice. You feel slightly guilty for thinking she was trying to get with Eddie.
Some days, Kacey would occasionally shoot you looks in the hallway. You did not feel the pang of shame you used to when her eyes met yours. You would sometimes even offer her a smile, trying your best to just move on from that part of your life. You wished there was more closure there, but you settled with the fact that everything happens for a reason.
But the life was completely gone from her sunken eyes. You could tell everything was starting to catch up with her when one day at lunch, she practically threw up her entire breakfast and lunch in front of everyone. It was embarrassing, and you could tell by the way she was spiriting into the hallway that she would never want to show her face to anyone ever again.
You know you would not.
As Eddie walked you to your locker to grab your math textbook after lunch, she stood by the main office door all alone, arms wrapped around herself. You caught her eyes in the midst of listening to Eddie drone on about how Hellfire would probably run late tonight, but he would stay up if you wanted to stop over after work.â
You donât respond, too focused on watching Kacey practically drag herself towards you.
She was a walking disaster, and you could not help but pity her.
âHey,â She whispers, her voice still gruff from how raw her throat probably was. Eddie shifted into a protective stance near you, ready to step in at any moment. Always the protector.
You donât know what to say to her, trying to gauge if she wants to fight you or actually talk to you like she used to. Her shoulders sag, her eyes half-lidded and bloodshot, and her knees practically shook like she was the only one experiencing an earthquake.
She did not want to fight.
âAre you okay?â You ask simply, scanning her as you tuck your textbook into the crook of your arm.
âMy mom is coming to get me,â She croaks, shutting her eyes as if to hold back tears, âSheâs sending me to live with my aunt in Missouri. Said that this is the last straw.â
You feel for her. Even though she fucked up. Even though you had to witness her humiliate herself. She had truly lost herself. All for her stupid boyfriend, who did not even check to see if she was okay after she got sick. She was not the same girl you had countless sleepovers with. The girl who was not the greatest friend, but was still there for all your pivotal moments in school. Your only friend.
You nod, moving your lips between your teeth. âI hope you can get better.â
For the first time in a long time, you see a sliver of your Kacey again.
âYeah, me too,â She mutters, a small smirk playing on her face as she looks between you and Eddie. Heâs much taller than her, so she has to look up at him. âI hope you two are happy. Genuinely.â
Eddieâs hand trails across your lower back, his fingers digging into the fabric of your sweatshirt. He clears his throat, âGood luck with everything, Kacey.â
An olive branch. Between your old life and your new one.
-
Today was Valentineâs Day.
You had not thought to do anything for Eddie, and you knew with his counter-culture mentality, he was not going to do anything special for you. You two had not made things actually official. There was no real conversation, just a mutual understanding that whatever was happening between you two was just⊠new and blossoming. You held hands on occasion in the car, and he kissed you in the privacy of his home. His usual grand gestures were buying you a gas station breakfast and lotto tickets. And that was enough for you.
After second period, you run into Robin and she asks if you were free on Friday. You two walk as you explain how you had to work and pray that the diner would just explode so you never had to set foot in it again. She laughs, falling into step beside you as she blabs on and on about how she wants you to come to her band concert. It makes you smile to think she thought of you.
You head to Eddieâs locker, like usual, where heâs waiting for you with Gareth and Jeff. You and Robin immediately stop laughing and carrying on the moment he pulls a single rose out of his locker, the petals wilting slightly. He gestures it towards you.
The swarm of people trying to get to lunch seems to move in slow motion as your eyes meet his. You can feel Robin stiffen next to you. She knew you and Eddie were friends, but this made it clear that it was more. You keep your fingers curled at your sides. âWhatâs this for?â
You shoot Gareth a look, but heâs just as shocked as you. His brows are hidden behind his curls, and his eyes practically bug out of the sockets.
Eddie shifts, drawing your attention back. You feel everyoneâs eyes burning into the back of your head as you accept the rose, a small smile on your face.
âHappy V-day, pretty girl.â
Now heâs offering you flowers in front of half of the senior class?
Your lip twitches, âYou didnât have to get me anything.
His mouth flattens into somewhat of a smirk.
âI knew youâd say that,â He hums, his voice a bit raspy, âBut I wanted to anyway.ââ
Robin looks between you two before snapping her fingers and shooting finger guns towards you specifically. âYou two are adorable, Iâm gonna go. Catch you later, brains.ââ
She scurries away like she saw something she shouldnât have, your eyes trailing her down the hallway as she meets up with some band kids. You finally look back at Eddie, whose lips are now turned upward.
âBrains?â
âI gave her my notes for Bio and she told me it was like reading Mandarin,â You explain, laying the prickly rose on the notebook you had tucked in your arm, âSo, she started calling me âBrainsâ.â
He wraps his arm around your shoulder, languidly dropping the weight across you as he guides you down the hall. âMy nicknames for you are a lot better.â
Cutting through the crowd of people, you become hyper-aware of people watching you two. Eddie leads his pack of outcasts with you at his side. If someone had told you last year about such a sight, you would of laughed in their faces.
When you finally take a seat at your usual seat next to Eddie and Gareth, you tune into a conversation at a table over. A girl from your English class, Reagan, is talking to her friend about her acceptance letter for Northwestern coming in the mail. She excitedly recounts the exact wording in the letter, and your stomach twists. If she got hers, you had to have one waiting in your mailbox.
In the midst of contemplation about the whirlwind emotions of getting accepted into the school of your dreams, you donât even realize that you have been twirling your necklace around your finger.
Your eyes are glued to Reaganâs sweater-clad back as your finger goes bright red. Eddie waves his ringed hands in front of you, trying to draw your attention to him.
âWhatâs with the blank stare? Itâs giving,â He snaps his fingers in Garethâs face, almost to withdraw thoughts from the guyâs mind, âStephen King character, shitâŠâ
âKujo?â
You roll your eyes towards Gareth, hitting him in the bicep.
âFuck you,â You snort, not taking any real offense to it. You probably looked insane thinking so intensely, glued to the thread count of the hideous, bright pink sweater Reagan was wearing.
Gareth lets out a guarded giggle, rubbing the spot you just punched while Eddie still snaps towards him, almost to will the name into his brain.
âCarrie!â Eddie practically yells, slamming his hand on the table, âTelekinesis chick.â
You narrow your eyes at him, âI look like Sissy Spacek?â
The jolt that rattles his head breaks the annoyed look you display. You smile as his voice rises in confusion, âHer name is Sissy?â
You laugh, he doesnât.
âYou donât look like her. Just the expression!â He explains, trying to save himself from the way you usually sigh at him when he tries to over-explain things.
âSissy Spacek is hot,â Grant cuts in, shoveling his cafeteria pizza into his mouth. You look away, knowing you hated it when people stared at you while you ate. Most of the time, these boys ate like babies who donât have hand-eye coordination yet, missing their mouths at every chance.
You will yourself to look to Jeff, whoâs nodding in agreement.
âSheâs got a lot of freckles,â He comments back.
Then Gareth chimes in, âDoes that make her ugly?â
âNo, makes her way hotter,â Jeff defends, his hands up in surrender.
You tune the rest of it out as you meet Eddieâs curious stare. He leans towards you, hand resting on the crease of your elbow. Your half-sleeve shirt allows him to touch your skin, which immediately makes the hair on your arms stand up. âSeriously, you okay?â
âJust deep in thought,â You lie, grabbing the red gem wrapped around your neck. You donât know why you donât just tell him. âYou know me.â
He leans closer. You catch a sparkle of gold in his deep brown eyes as he whispers, âYeah, I do. I like knowing you.â
-
Eddie keeps you lingering in his driveway for a bit after school. You twirl the rose he gave you in your hand, and he cannot dare peel his eyes away from you as you ramble about a shitty test you had to take last period.
âWell, I must retreat into my palace, darling girl. I have to get my notes situated for Hellfire tonight,â He admits, pulling you in by your waist. His head dips, his curls creating a tunnel straight to his face. You giggle at his animated gestures and playful voice, âI shall see you thenceforward?â
Your nose bumps his as you get closer, âThenceforward? Now youâre just making up words, Munson.â
âNuh uh,â He badgers, squeezing your sides, âI read it somewhere. No doubt.â
âI have doubts.â
âWell, you are wrong. Itâs a word. A very big and broad, and forthcoming adverb.â
You roll your eyes, pressing a peck to his rambling mouth, âProud of you for knowing what an adverb is.â
He smiles, eyes heavy as he stares at your lips. He never fails to bring butterflies to your stomach. âYeah, havenât been missing school lately. This girl I really like has been relying on me to get her to school, so I canât miss class.â
âWhat a needy bitch,â You jokingly scoff, appearing to be annoyed at his words. His hands get tighter around you. You can feel yourself getting more eager for his touch.
His eyes flutter before pressing another kiss to your awaiting lips, âSheâs cute, so itâs okay. Her and her perfect attendance.â
You flippantly push him away, but his hands almost donât release your waist. He cannot stop smiling at you as you raise your middle finger at him and walk backwards towards the end of the gravel. âSee you tomorrow, dork.â
âTomorrow, my dear!â
You spin on the balls of your feet and head across the road. The moment your eyes land on your mailbox, you remember.
Your letter.
You jog to the box, pulling it open and flipping through all the envelopes. When you spot the familiar font of the college of your dreams on the top of the rigid white packet, you sprint to the wooden steps that lead up to your house. You glance across the street, but Eddieâs already gone inside.
You wanted this moment to be something only you experienced, anyway. Not with your parents. Not with a friend. Not even with Eddie.
You sit on your front porch, tossing the other junk mail next to you. You gently place the rose on top, balancing it so it wouldnât roll away.
You take your time, savoring every second of opening the letter like itâs the free ticket to get out of Hawkins. You peel back the stickiness and slowly remove the crisp letter inside.
Long inhale, short exhale.
âTo whom it may concern,
â
We at Northwestern University regret to inform you of our decision toâŠâ
You fold the paper back up, unable to read further.
You knew what it was going to say.
The disappointment that floods your entire body is completely cataclysmic. You have never actively felt the weight of the world on you, but you sure did when it got overwhelmingly heavier.
You try to ease the burden by exhaling a long breath, but it sits in your stomach like an unmovable boulder.
Your body goes into autopilot after that. You somehow get ready for work. Ride in the car with your Mom as she rants about the price of milk and eggs going up. You then serve 3 customers and sit at the diner counter with your head in your hands.
You feel as if you are outside of yourself. Like a ghost haunting the spaces you walk through. You cannot muster up even a fake smile.
It felt as though time had been standing still.
You would not get out of here. You had failed. Again.
-
The next day at school, you managed to tune out everything happening around you. Eddie notes your quietness today, but by the way heâs hardly spoken to you, he probably does not want to press anything. He just silently taps your knee with his fingertips under the lunch table, while you are consumed with the overwhelming sense to bawl your eyes out.
The guys talk about the campaign last night. You hear Eddie cut off every question when you try to pick up the bits of conversation. Trying to distract yourself for a minute. The guys try to pry some information out of him about goblins. Or demons. You have no real concept of the game or what it consists of, and your brain is too muddle to mock up any real care or interest in their conversation.
Then your body has a visceral reaction seeing Reagan sit down in front of you, her smile bright. It almost makes you angry watching her being happy. She got in, and you didnât. How?
You feel as if you have failed yourself. You tried to get ahead, and yet you still fell behind.
You told yourself not to get attached to Eddie, now here you are, practically his. Sitting at his table, listening to his friends rant and ramble about shit you didnât care about, wearing a necklace he bought you. He marked you and everything. He has practically consumed your entire being.
Maybe you truly had no clue who you even were. This didnât feel like you.
The old you, at least.
The one who wouldâve done anything to find an escape from the hell she felt stuck in.
You could have just poured more of yourself into other social clubs and academics, and maybe Northwestern could have accepted you.
You had been so distracted. Between Kacey. Your parents. Eddie.
But as you ponder more, you think about the fact that Northwestern looked at everything from your high school career. Not just the last couple of months.
They looked at your half-assed attempts at getting into clubs sophomore year. The extracurriculars that you gave up on when Kacey got bored, and you did not want to be alone. Your excellent grades could only get you so far. You like to think you tried your best, but the other years of your schooling were lacking substance, and they needed dynamic people.
You werenât enough.
You were incapable of having any sort of luck. School. Friendships. Jobs. Hell, even your car gave up before you could even get kick-started on getting it fixed.
And maybe thatâs all it had ever been for everyone else. Luck.
It was obvious you were lacking in that department.
Before you can even stop yourself from an all-out spiral, Eddieâs hand lands on top of yours.
âHey, take a walk with me,â Heâs pulling you up out of your seat before you can even respond. You want to resist, press him with questions, but instead you just throw your backpack over your shoulder and walk in step with him.
His eyes are reflecting an unspoken worry. You always thought the guy could read your mind, and maybe he finally did. Or maybe you are truly awful at disguising your emotions.
He tucks you up under his arm and guides you to the door that leads to the schoolâs courtyard. The moment the cold air hits your face, your eyes prick with tears.
No one comes to the courtyard in mid-February, luckily. Still too cold in Indiana.
He walks you to a giant oak tree, right on the cusp of the sidewalk, and stops dead. âWhatâs going on? YouâreâŠâ
âI didnât get into Northwestern.â
His face pales.
Then the tears slip from your eyes.
âWhat?â
You canât even reiterate your sentence because the overwhelming anxiety kicks in and closes your throat. You cannot even heave a sigh; instead, you just throw your hands over your face. Itâs truly humiliating.
He lets go of you, only to grab your shoulders and reposition you in front of his shielding body. âTalk to me, sweetheart-â
âI got my letter and they said they didnât fuckinâ want me, Eddie! They said Iâm not good enough cause I never fuckinâ am! Okay? They donât want me, just like no one wants me! I.. I donât even want me!â
You have never said it out loud. The disorienting reality that you were unwanted by even yourself.
You finally breathe out, but it comes out as a hiccup. You start grabbing Eddieâs hands from your arms and pushing them off, feeling like the world was crushing you and you could not catch a breath. âYou donât want me. You donât.â
Eddieâs head swivels, almost to see if you were talking to someone else. By the expression on his face, heâs flabbergasted. âWhat are you talking about? Sunshine-â
âNo!â You yell, your voice crackling a bit.
Your stomach is rolling. Your throat gets tighter.
You donât want to hear anything else from him, but the moment you cut in, he does it right back to you.
âYes! Yes, I do,â He presses, getting in your space again, âI do want you. I have wanted you for a long time.â
You put your hand on your forehead, feeling it getting hot, âYou donât even know who I am! I donât even know me!â
âI donât care, I donât. I want every version of you. Today. Tomorrow. Years from now. I wanted you yesterday as the person you were then and the person you will be every day after. God,â Heâs running out of breath as he pours himself out in front of you, âI have wanted you since I first laid eyes on you, and I know that will never change.â
You donât know how to respond to such a confession. So you just stare at him, arms trembling, legs feeling like they may buckle under your weight, tears now practically frozen to your cheeks.
You want to keep shaking your head, somehow convincing him that heâs wrong, but his big doe eyes are unbeatable. His hands slowly make their way back to your hands, and you want to resist again. Push him away and tell him to save himself from your wrath, but you donât.
You surrender to him.
Because Eddie has been there. All year. Heâs been there for you when you are sad, angry, happy, and every smaller emotion in between. The world has felt like itâs been crumbling around your feet for months, but the moments you have spent with Eddie have been the glue. Each piece of the old you has fallen away, but the new pieces that you have stuck in the open cracks have somehow been due to his presence.
You knew that your brain wanted to deny it because itâs scary. Itâs scary to open yourself up. Itâs scary to love someone.
When he senses youâre not going to move away, he grabs you and brings you into his chest. His arms are pressed and flush around you, his hand cradling the back of your head as he sways.
You donât know how long you stay wrapped in his warmth, but it feels like long enough to calm your nerves. His bone-crushing hug soothed you in a way you never knew any hug could. Your breathing settles, your heart rate drops to a somewhat normal beat, and you can finally swallow.
When he shifts you a bit to look down at you, his eyebrows are set and furrowed. âIf your pretty big brain ever tells you again that I donât want you, never believe it, okay? Thatâs never going to be the truth.â
You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. You never had the pleasure of someone being so reassuring. It almost makes you nauseous.
You lick your lips, âWhat am I going to do?â
Itâs a broad question to ask. One that you know he probably cannot answer.
Eddie contemplates if for a minute, brushing some of your hair back with his fingers. âYou wanna skip the rest of the day?â
You squint at him in confusion as you wipe away a frozen tear, âWhy would I do that?"
âI donât know,â He huffs, hand still cradling your jaw slightly, âMaybe I can prevent your brain from melting out of your skull in Ms. Donovanâs fourth period. Get your mind off things for a bit.â
A distraction. Something that would have literally sent you into a full-blown meltdown in front of the entire school 15 minutes ago.
But now your heart is telling you to go. To get away from your mindless routine at school. If youâre lucky, Eddie will lose track of time and forget to bring you home and you can skip out on work, too.
So you agree.
âYouâre a bad influence,â You whisper, hand slowly drifting up his forearm, âYou know that?â
He chuckles, shaking his curls out of his face. His smile may be devilish, but heâs so fucking pretty.
âHush. Come on. I got a place.â
-
When the van cuts off in front of a record store that is right off Main Street, you sigh.
Eddie notes your affliction, patting your thigh with his expansive hand. âMusic always helps me. Letâs go see if we can find anything worth spinning.â
You get out, slamming the passenger door enough so it clicks correctly, and walk to the curb. He jiggles his keys in his vest pocket before walking to your side and grabbing your hand.
When his fingers interlock with yours, you cannot help but beam down where you two are conjoined.
You walk with him inside the shop, immediately being welcomed by a guy with the same hair as Eddie. Heâs blonde, freckled, and rocking a Rolling Stones shirt.
Eddie nods towards him, âJustin- howâs it going, man?â
He drags you along to the counter to give the guy a fist bump. The guyâ Justinâ manages a short answer, his eyes set on you. âThis your girl, Munson?â
You expect him to make up some answer about how you are just a friend. A girl heâs showing around the record store. But your hands are linked together, making it pretty obvious that was not the case.
âYeah, man, sure is.â
Your heart stutters as you watch Justin extend his hand towards you. You shake it, giving him your name and offering a clipped greeting. He giggles at your fumbling as his eyes shoot over to Eddie.
âNever thought Iâd see the day where Eddie Munson walks in with a cool, pretty girl.â
Your fingers twitch against Eddieâs knuckles. He lets out a loud, booming laugh as Justin teases him. He starts towards the rows and rows of records, not acknowledging his gibe. âCount me as the luckiest man alive, then, Justin. Cause Iâm definitely with the coolest, prettiest girl in Hawkins.â
You cannot ignore the way Eddie looks at you anymore.
He would pass glances at you before, his eyes twinkling with a hint of wonderment. Like you had said, the most important thing in the world.
But it would fade when his attention was drawn away to another conversation.
The loaded glances only got more intense after your first kiss. Then with your second, he could not look at you without the glint in his dark chocolate eyes.
He stops in front of a bin of metal records, his free hand flicking through the vinyls with expertise. You had never been to a record shop before. You did not even have a record player, so you had no reason to step foot in an establishment like this.
âWhatcha thinkinâ about, sweetheart?â He ponders, shooting you a slight glance before picking up a record to read the song titles.
âJust how I donât even have a way to spin any of these records.â
Thereâs that sparkle in his eyes.
He puts the record back, pulling you closer to his side. His hand drops yours before he slings his arm around your shoulder. Your face is inches away from his, and you can already taste the nicotine on his lips without touching them.
âYou keep it at my house and prance your beautiful ass into my room whenever you want to hear it,â He declares, his arm locking onto you tighter, which only brings you closer.
He was too good.
You bring your hand up to cradle his cheek, feeling the slight stubble that he didnât shave off this morning. âYouâre okay with me just waltzing into your house?â
âOf course,â He whispers, swaying your body a bit as he speaks, âAs long as Iâm home. Wayne may not love the idea of you breaking down the door and interrupting his NASCAR races.â
You two move through the store after that, somehow always touching each other. You find the pop records and pull out a Prince record. You hear Eddie huff beside you as your eyes rake over the album art. âPrince? Really?â
His hands are trained on your waist, while his chin goes to rest on your shoulder. You smile, enjoying the feeling of his breath near your neck.
Eddie had kissed you there before, and you learned then that it was your favorite place to have him nestled.
âYes, Edward, really.â
You can feel his face twist against you as his hand raises to grab the vinyl from your hands. You watch him bring it up to his height, inspecting some of the songs on the back. âFine, Iâll allow it since it has When Doves Cry.â
You press your shoulder against him to get a better look at him. Heâs deadly serious. âReally?â
âItâs a good song."
âYou listen to Prince?â
He scoffs, tilting his chin inward as if offended, âIâm well-versed, beautiful. I just have my⊠strong preferences.â
You cannot stop yourself from breaking into the widest grin. Heâs so absurd.
Youâre not that shocked, really. Eddie may tease and pick, but you have heard him humming a variety of different songs before. He always comes back to his metal songs, though. If he notices you, noticing him, he will change the hum to some random âguitarâ solo. His fingers are jokingly moving across an air instrument, his lips pursing and eventually widening to make the tune even more dramatic, all the while you roll your eyes.
You spin on your heels, jolting him away from your shoulder. âSo, we get this record and spin it whenever I want?"
âThatâs the deal.â
When he yanks you up to the counter to check out, you look around like a little kid at the huge record player cabinet beside the cashwrap. You tug away from Eddie again, approaching it as you try to remember the name of the song thatâs playing.
Justin shoots you a look, âMy manager chooses what spins. I donât even know who that is-â
You know it. It hits you immediately when the voice cuts over the dramatic piano. âYou donât know REO Speedwagon?â
Eddie is leaning over the counter, his jaw pressed into his palm as he observes your movements. Justin stills his movements at the register when you speak.
They both just stare at you like you spoke another language.
You point to the spinning record, the title hanging right on the tip of your tongue, âCanât Fight This Feeling?â
Eddieâs eyebrows jolt upwards in surprise. Justin just looks dumbfounded, his eyes squinting at you like you were some sort of otherworldly being.
You had heard the song on one of Kaceyâs tapes last year and actually enjoyed the song. She gave you the tape to play in your car, which was rotting in your front yard, unable to play the top hit from the summer before senior year.
He stalks over to you, his footfalls heavy against the creaking wooden floors. He stops inches from you as you sway slightly to the song playing over the large speakers.
He dips his head down, catching your eyes as he speaks. âIâm familiar with it.â
You donât believe him. But in that moment, you donât care.
His next motion throws you off completely. His right hand is grabbing at your waist, pulling you taut to his chest. His left hand clasping yours, and raising it like you would if you were about to be led across a dancefloor.
âWhat-â
Then his feet start moving, swaying with you and guiding you around the confined area. You yelp when he practically drags you in a circle as the song progresses.
âYouâre a candle in the window, on a- hmph hmphhh,â He fumbles over the lyrics, holding your waist tighter as he sings obnoxiously, even though itâs in a hushed tone.
âEddie, please,â You beg, trying to pry yourself away from him. Justin is the only one to witness the display, but one audience member is one too many for you. You can feel your body heat up with embarrassment, but it seems that Eddie simply does not care about the visible signs of mortification.
The song continues, but he slows down in maneuvering you around the store. âYouâre not a bad dancer, sweetheart.â
You raise your limp arm from your side and press it against his bicep. âNot by choice. Youâre pushing me around like Iâm some sort of⊠broom.â
âOne of the most beautiful brooms Iâve ever seen,â He beams, tilting his face closer to you, âSorry, I just canât fight this feeling anymore.â
He stops dancing, taking a dramatic bow once he drops your arms and waist. He finally walks over to the counter, checking out with Justin and thanking him for the hospitality. He hands you the record to carry, and you two load back into the van.
You have to give Eddie props; he was good at occupying your mind and pulling it away from the shitty circumstances. The entire time you were in the record shop, you had not even thought about not getting into Northwestern.
Sitting in the front seat, the realization hits you again. You look down at the Purple Rain album art and start to feel that deep, startling depression settle in your stomach.
Eddieâs hand finds yours, pulling you out of your own head.
âHow about something sweet?â He ponders, his gaze raking over your face, âThen maybe I can take you for a hike up to that makeout spot off Hurley?â
His eyes twinkle for a moment, waiting for you to digest the last half of his offer. âYou want to make out with me in the woods?â
âSounds mystical, if you ask me.â
You roll your eyes, leaning over the center console and planting a lingering kiss on his lips. Heâs eager, the palm that was holding your knuckles is now holding you steady, and his mouth moves in perfect harmony with yours.
Youâre often surprised at how great Eddie is at kissing. And how excellent you have become because of him. The long, drawn-out dance of your lips with his is enough to send your heart pounding out of your chest.
You bite your lip as you sit back on your seat, taking in his heavy-lidded look. âYou got the wheel. I go where you go.â
The smile that he displays is surely something unforgettable. You wish to see him smile like that every day for the rest of your life.
âł requested by anon â i know for a fact that this was a request but i think i accidentally deleted the ask iâm so sorry!! the request was for reader who is being bullied to go to eddie who turns protective. iâm so sorry if you sent that in i hope you see this!
âł summary - reader turns up to the clearing in tears after being picked on, and she didnât want to tell eddie, but what else could she do?
âł a/n - reading this over iâm unsure whether itâs good but iâve been procrastinating it all week so here. also this was supposed to be way shorter and not as sad LMAO
âł content warnings â bullying, injury, hurt-comfort, angst if you squint
âł word count - 2k
âł just a reminder that reblogs are seriously appreciated as it helps my work get seen by more people! <3
âł masterlists
@eddie-darling @vintageobx @m1vfs @katsukis1wife @pastel-abyss-x @levylovegood @simplymurdock @mayyvh join my tag list
Everything around her was just a blur of green through the tears that were building in her eyes, which made everything unfocused. She walked as quickly as her feet would carry her without full-on running. The leaves brushed past her arms and legs, sticks and stones uneven beneath her shoes. She was trembling awfully, and she just wanted to get to Eddie, who would take all of her worries away. They often met in the small clearing in the woods for lunch so it could be just them, no interruptions. On most days she appreciated it more than he realised.
She was almost at the clearing when she heard her name being called, and whipped around with a sharp intake of breath. Had they seen where she went? She thought that she had managed to get away, that sheâd be fine once she was with Eddie and wouldnât have to worry about them for at least another hour. She heard her name again, in the distance to the left, and started backing up. The clearing was right behind her, but she couldnât tear her eyes from the greenery in front of her, in case they suddenly broke through the trees. There was a laugh in the distance â the same taunting laugh that sheâd heard for weeks on end â and she stumbled backwards a little quicker to the clearing.
But instead she bumped into something solid and moving, and a pathetic little yelp escaped her as she flinched and turned around. But all she was met with was worried brown eyes and a frown.
âWoah, hey, didnât mean to scare you,â Eddie told her, hands on her shoulders, but it only took him a moment to see her tears before he was frowning a little more. âYou okay?â
His hands were warm as they squeezed her shoulders, and in between his pretty face looking all worried, the tightness in her chest from the attempt to not cry, and the stinging of her knees and hands, it was all a bit too much. Her answer was given in an unstoppable sob, one that had her wrapped up in Eddieâs arms within a blink of an eye.
âOh sweetheart,â Eddie breathed into her hair, ever so gentle, and her body shook with another cry as she wedged her head between his neck and his shoulder. âYouâre okay, Iâve got you.â
Eddieâs arms around her were a stronghold, and as soon as she was encased against him she was safe. So why couldnât she stop crying? It almost felt difficult to breathe, when usually being with Eddie resulted in some of the easiest breaths she had ever taken.
In an effort to pull her closer, her knee brushed against the harsh fabric of his jeans and she flinched, and a whimpered, âowwâ passed her lips.
Eddie pulled back immediately, eyes wide, searching her skin for what could be wrong. âWhat? Did I hurt you?â
She shook her head. The breath trapped in her throat made it difficult for her to answer, so she just gestured down towards her knees, both scraped and bleeding. Blood trickled down her right leg, the cut worse there, and had started staining her white socks with deep red. She could still feel it all; the foot that had hooked her ankle and caused her to trip, the feeling of her knees smashing against the floor, her hands as they scraped against the floor where she caught herself before she fell face-first. She could hear the laughter of the person who had tripped her, the laughter of everyone around her, the laughter in the distance when she had finally made a break for the woods to see Eddie.
âShit, Y/N,â Eddie mumbled, a crease in between his eyebrows, before his hand was against her arm again as he led her towards the wooden picnic table in the middle of the clearing. âHere, sit down.â
She did as she was told and perched on the edge of the bench, her back to the table with her legs stretched out slightly. If she moved them then her knees would sting worse.
Eddie had begun searching through his bag, and she watched as he pulled out a small blue case, and her eyes softened slightly through her tears. It was the First-Aid kit that she had bought him a few months back when he kept cutting his fingers on his guitar strings. She didnât move as he crouched in front of her with the kit open, and he reached for an alcohol wipe.
âTrip over?â Eddie asked, and she could only nod. She was still crying â silent tears that cascaded down her cheeks whilst the lump in her throat prevented her from talking.
The packet for the wipe was placed between his teeth to rip it open, and Eddie hesitated when the wipe was close to her knee. âThis might sting, âkay?â He only placed the wipe to her knee when she had nodded, and she grit her teeth at the pain that increased in her knee for a moment throughout every wipe. They were silent for a few minutes as he cleaned up her knees, wiping them clean before he placed a band-aid on both. The huge patch on both of her knees was a little embarrassing, and it would only worsen the teasing when she had to go back up towards the school.
âGive me your hands.â Eddie spoke softly, and she realised that with her palms faced up, he was able to see the grazes there too. She again did as she was told, and felt the warmth of his fingers as he held her left hand. The sting from the wipe was less painful that time, and soon enough both of her palms had been cleaned, too.
âThere,â Eddie grinned, and gently brushed away a tear from her cheek with his thumb once he had put down the dirty wipe. âGood as new.â
But she wasnât, was she? Sure, she was patched up and none of the cuts would get infected, but the physical evidence of what had happened was still there. Her sock was stained with blood, her eyes still tearful and bloodshot. It was obvious to the people that had hurt her just how much it affected her.
Eddie noticed the fresh wave of oncoming tears, and his expression softened, a hand cupping her jaw. âHey, itâs okay, honey. You just fell over.â
At the resulting choking sound that left her in response to his statement, the lump in her throat thicker, Eddie paused, and his worried expression morphed into a more serious concern. âYou did fall over⊠right?â
It took her a moment. She stared at him through tear-blurred eyes as her hands trembled again, and at the sight of just how worried he was the dam broke and she cried as she shook her head. Her chest tightened even more, guilty vines that squeezed her heart and lungs, but once again she was wrapped up in his arms.
âWhat happened?â His voice was soft, but she still heard the underlying tone of anger, of extreme concern.
âShe- she tripped me.â She managed to get out through her tears, her head once again tucked against his neck.
âWho did?â He sounded sad.
âCarol,â She sighed, the name bitter on her tongue. âI was walking to meet you and she tripped me.â
She felt his palm against her back, pushing against her muscles as he rubbed her through her shirt, his rings scraping pleasantly. âWhy?â His voice tickled her ear. âWhyâd she feel the need to do that?â
At the question her expression crumpled and she cried again, hands grasping at his shirt. Would he be disappointed that she didnât tell him what was going on? That for months she had kept it secret?
âHey, itâs okay,â Eddie immediately shushed her when she cried harder, and his lips pressed to her temple. âIâm not blaming you, sweetheart, I just wanted to know.â
She sighed, the exhale deep and painful as she leaned against him. A headache was growing behind her eyes, she supposed it was from the crying, and at that point she didnât know if she could hold off any longer on telling him what was going on. Maybe he would be disappointed that she didnât tell him, but he needed to get it off of her chest.
âTommy. H and Carol, they uhâŠâ She paused, inhaling deeply as she stayed buried against his body. This was Eddie, she had nothing to be worried about. At most heâd be worried and sad that she hadnât told him sooner, but he wasnât going to make fun of her. âTheyâve been picking on me for a while,â she sniffled. âI didnât do anything to them but theyâre horrible⊠normally they just say stuff, but I guess she saw the opportunity to trip me.â
Eddie had stiffened against her, and even though his arms never unwrapped themselves from her body she could feel how tense he was, fists clenched and knuckles pressed to her back. And for one terrifying moment she was worried that he was mad at her; that she hadnât told him, that she hadnât stuck up for herself, that she was in that situation in the first place. But after a moment of silence he leaned back just enough to look at her, and she had never seen such an expression on his face. His usually warm brown eyes were dark, shrouded in shadows as he stared at her between furrowed eyebrows and a frown.
âWhere were they?â And his voice was different too. Thicker and harsher; like he was holding back from what he actually wanted to say. âWhen they tripped you, where were they?â His hands lifted to her cheeks and he gently wiped away the tears that were flowing down her cheeks, the gentleness opposite to what he looked like.
âOutside, by the cafeteria.â She whispered tearfully.
Eddie nodded, his eyes bore into hers a moment longer, before he pulled away and looked towards the clearing in the trees which led back towards the school. It was only then that she realised what he wanted to do, and her stomach twisted with nausea.
âStay here,â her voice was so small and pathetic, and Eddie didnât turn back to face her, but he visibly stiffened up again. âItâs not worth it, theyâre not worth it.â
âNot worth it?â Eddie had never shouted at her before, and even though she knew his anger wasnât directed at her, she still flinched at the rise in volume when he turned back around to face her. âThey hurt you! Of course itâs worth it!â
âItâs not worth them hurting you too,â her bottom lip quivered and he was staring at her incredulously, like he couldnât understand why she wanted him to stay. âEddie-â
âIâd get hurt a thousand times over if it meant theyâd never lay a hand on you again.â
He was staring at her with such intensity, such undenying seriousness that she wanted to cry again. She wanted to cry and hug him and never let him go, because nobody had been so protective of her and kind to her. But instead she stood staring at him, teary eyes and a frown that wordlessly conveyed her worry. And he looked torn, between her and the clearing towards the school.
âI donât,â she finally mumbled, and whilst he looked annoyed she knew that it wasnât directed at her, just not being able to give those guys a piece of his mind. âPlease, I donât want you to get hurt.â
Maybe it was because she could shatter any stubbornness that the metalhead put up, or simply because she looked like she was going to completely burst into tears again. But Eddie sighed, slumped his shoulders, and stepped forwards to pull her into his arms once more. He was still awfully tense, but she was glad that he wasnât going to get himself hurt for her.
âAlright,â he sighed the word, and she sniffled against the juncture of his neck when he wrapped an arm around her body, as his other climbed up into her hair from the base of her neck, until his palm cupped her head against him, as his fingers delicately scratched at her scalp. âBut weâre going to the principalâs office first thing tomorrow, okay? And Iâll talk to them if the school does nothing.â
She was fine with those terms and nodded as her fingers grasped at the back of his denim vest, and allowed herself to feel him just for a moment, to ground herself and be assured that he was okay.
âThank you,â she mumbled. âFor caring so much.â
Eddie pressed a kiss to her head, and she went like jelly in his arms when he gently swayed her in his arms. âAlways,â he murmured the promise into her hairline. âIâll always care, angel.â
hi jade <3 what do you think about a hurt comfort where Eddie gave you one of his rings but you lose it? and you're so down on yourself about it and scared to tell him, but he's not upset at all at you, obviously, and is sad you're so hard on yourself <3 love u!
hi i love u!!! i think he'd take it way too seriously and get all stern đ doesn't care about the ring but you crying over it??? he's heartbroken ⥠fem!reader | 1.1k words
You've always had a tendency to be hard on yourself. When you lose Eddie's ring you hate yourself for it, though it's your ring, technically. He'd given it to you recently and that makes it so much worse, that it was his, that he'd trusted you with it, that you'd barely had it for two weeks and now you can't find it.Â
Your hands are sticky with tears, pressed over your eyes and cheeks unkindly. The couch on the porch of Eddie's trailer should be freezing under your legs â it's November, and it's getting late â but you're too distracted to feel it. So distracted, in fact, that you almost don't hear the sound of Eddie's van approaching. He's already turning into the driveway when you pick your head up, wiping the tears off or your face with your sweater's scratchy sleeves.Â
Eddie smiles as soon as he's out of the van, making a beeline for you.Â
"Hey," he says excitedly, taking the steps two at a time. He shrugs out of his jacket and dumps it over your knees like a blanket.Â
"Hi," you say without a hint of upset in your tone.Â
"Why are you out here?" He sits down as close to you as he possibly can, hand behind your back. "S'freezing."Â
"I didn't want to disturb Wayne." More like you'd already been in tears when you got here.Â
Eddie frowns. You know Wayne well enough now, it shouldn't really matter that he's home. You've always been a little bit shy, and he lets it slide.Â
"He'd hardly mind," he says, his smile shaping each word. You can feel the curve of it as he kisses the side of your face, arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.Â
His kiss makes you feel better and you lean into him unthinkingly, hiding your hands between your legs so he can't see the missing ring. If he's confused by your hand placement he doesn't show it, hugging you sideways and pressing another kiss to your cheek.Â
"Sorry I took so long," he says, still cheerful. You think maybe he can feel something's not right. He's trying to cheer you up.Â
You try to let him. "That's okay, Eddie baby," you say as sweetly as you can. 'Eddie baby' becomes one word, all squished together with affection. You almost sing it. "I got here earlier than I meant to."Â
You'd wanted to search his front yard for the ring.Â
"Should we go inside?" he asks.Â
You feel too heavy to stand. You should tell him here. If he's mad it might be better to have some open air between you. Not because you think he'd ever be cruel, just that his room can feel a little suffocating.Â
"I have to tell you something," you say.Â
He doesn't flinch. His expression doesn't flicker. "Yeah?"Â
"I-" You look down at your hands between your thighs. "I lost the ring you gave me. I'm sorry."Â
"It's okay."Â
"No, it's not. I'm so- so fucking stupid," you say hotly, pushing your thighs together until your hands ache. "I can never look after things. I never should've let you give it to me, I knew I was gonna lose it. I'm an idiot."Â
Your voice is wavering with emotion by the end. Eddie's hand grows still where it rests on your hip. You bunch your shoulders up and wait for him to reprimand you.Â
His fingers flex and then squeeze.Â
You look up at him with tears in your eyes.Â
"It's okay," he says again slowly. He works his free hand between your legs and intertwines your fingers.
"It is?" you ask.
Eddie leans back heavily into the couch. You don't follow. He frowns. "You're not stupid," he says seriously.Â
You swallow and sniffle. A tear struggles down your cheek from the movement. He narrows his eyes at it, watching it trace down your cheek.Â
"I didn't mean to lose it," you say under your breath.Â
"I know you didn't," he reassures. "Sweetheart, it's only a ring, okay?"Â
"But it was yours."Â
Eddie pulls both of his hands away from you. You mourn the loss, feeling like you've been hit hard in the chest. He's only bringing them together to pull one of the remaining rings off, holding it in the middle of his palm. He offers it to you.Â
"Here," he says encouragingly.Â
You sit back. "No, Eds, I'll just lose it again, and-"Â
"So what? Lose it again. Throw it out if you want to." He takes your hand and slides it onto your ring finger. The gesture isn't lost on you.Â
"Y/N." He says your name like it means something else, like it means 'baby' or 'sweetheart' or 'love'. "You don't have to worry about it. Or cry about it. S'just a ring. Just cheap metal. Everyone loses things, that doesn't make you stupid."Â
He tilts his head to the side, dark curls falling into his face. He brushes them out of his face and holds out his arm. You fall into his side reluctantly. You still feel like you don't deserve his affection.Â
You can't understand why he's being so nice, but you feel guilty for worrying he'd be anything but.Â
"I'm sorry," you murmur.Â
"Don't be," he says, just as soft. "Don't be. You could lose every ring I own and you still wouldn't be stupid, okay? Don't think shit like that."Â
"I don't know what happened, I just⊠lost it."Â
He slouches down even further and gives you a brilliant smile, all puppy dog eyes and mischief. "Who cares? Fuck that ring. I didn't even like that one."
That makes you laugh. "Oh yeah, s'why you gave it to me?" you ask, giggling.Â
"Exactly."Â
You both beam, though his quickly tapers into a shiver. "Are you okay?" you ask.Â
"It's really fucking cold out here," he says, looking pointedly at his jacket over your legs.
"Oh! Oh, let's go inside." You jump up with his jacket in hand.Â
He catches your hand before you can get too far and stands himself, dragging you back into his chest. Suddenly close, you breathe in his smell and gaze up at him imploringly.
"What?" you ask.Â
He raises his hand to hold your cheek. "Do me a favour? Try not to be so hard on yourself. Please."Â
"Since when do you say please?" you ask, avoiding the matter at hand.Â
He pushes his fingers behind your ear and leans down for a kiss so quick you don't have time to close your eyes, his lips cold but kind. You try to follow for a second and he lets you, huffing a laugh before pulling back.Â
"Be nice to my girlfriend," he says sternly, squeezing your cheek.Â
You smile. "Okay. I will."Â
"Thank you," he says, and gives you a third kiss.Â
I see a lot of Eddie taking care of reader when their sick but what about the other way around? đ
sick eddie <\3 cw weed ment ⥠fem!reader | 1.2k words
You sit cross-legged on the end of Eddie's bed, waiting for him to wake up with one of his many books in your lap.
He's curled in on himself and snoring. The sound should be irritating and for the most part it is, but it's also a nice reminder that he's alive. From his pallor, you'd assume he was close to death, your poor boyfriend pale as snow.Â
You're silent. You don't want to wake him up. He needs as much rest as he can get to fight his awful flu.Â
You don't worry about catching it because you'd already suffered through it, Eddie diligent and doting at your side the entire time. You intend to return the favour and so far you think you're doing a pretty great job.Â
This comes into question when he groans like he's in pain. You let the book fall away as you slip onto your feet, rounding the bed to stand above him. "Hey, baby," you say softly, eyebrows pinched in concern.Â
Eddie groans again. The sound is smothered by his pillow.Â
You bend at the waist and drop your hand to his bare shoulder, rubbing a line up and down the length of his upper arm soothingly. His skin is burning hot.Â
"Eddie," you duck down to kiss his shoulder, "what's wrong?"Â
He takes a little while to come around. You can pinpoint the moment where he realises he's awake and sick and in bed, like a soul slipping back into his body. He reaches around his chest to clasp your hand where it lies in the crook of his elbow but doesn't look up. Doesn't move.Â
"My-" He cuts himself off to cough, his voice scratchy and weak. "My head's fuckin' poundin'."Â
You give his shoulder another kiss. "Want me to get you some more Tylenol?"Â
"A joint."Â
You giggle at him and slide your hand between his cheek and the pillow where it's pressed. You hug him, a precious hug, kissing the clammy skin of his forehead where his bangs have fallen aside lovingly. "Maybe later, okay? You need something to eat, I think."Â
He sighs, sounding almost happy. "You smell nice," he mumbles.Â
"Thank you. You smell nice too."Â
"No, I don't."Â
He doesn't. He smells sick. But he's your boy and he's aching and the last thing you want to do is make him feel bad about anything. "Can I make you some dinner?" you ask gently, pulling back just enough to tuck a limp curl behind his ear.Â
He fights to open his eyes. You know from experience how sore they are and go to pull away to get him a hot towel.Â
His hands jump to your arms and hold them. "No, don't go," he says, squinting at you. There's a hint of desperation there and it's enough to melt your heart.Â
"Eddie," you murmur, "just getting you a towel for your eyes, okay? I know they're hurting."Â
His eyes are so brown and soft. You wipe under his eyelashes sympathetically.Â
"I'll be right back," you promise.Â
He closes his eyes and lets you go slowly. "Okay," he says, swallowing against his sore throat.Â
You get him a warm wet towel, some Tylenol and a fresh glass of water.Â
He's managed to sit himself up by the time you return, hands pressed to the sheets and head dropped into his chest. You climb over his leg carefully and sit more close than you have any reason to, telling yourself it's for his sake when really it's for your own. It hurts you to see him so miserable. Being near helps.
One leg thrown over his thigh, Eddie instinctively pulls you close. You almost tip his water down your front.Â
"Here," you say, pressing the glass into his shaking hand.Â
You pour out two Tylenol and hand them over, too.Â
As soon as he's taken them his head drops back to his chest. "Fuck," he complains, "I feel bad."Â
"I'm sorry," you say quietly. It's your fault he's sick, and if it wasn't you'd still be sorry.Â
You fold the small towel in your hand into a neat square and bring it to his face, rubbing under his closed eyes gently.Â
"Not your fault," he says, palm squeezing your thigh weakly.Â
You smile. "You caught it from me. Open your eyes?"Â
He opens his eyes.Â
"Thanks, handsome." You wipe all the mess from his lashes on either side. "Close them again?"Â
You unfold the towel and hold it over both of his eyes.Â
"What are you doing?" he asks hoarsely.Â
"Is it helping?" you ask instead of answering.Â
He hums. You take it for yes.Â
His hand smooths a sluggish line down the length of your leg. You appreciate it more than you can convey; he's sick as a dog and still trying to love on you.Â
When the towel is more wet than warm you pull it away from him and bunch it into a ball.Â
His eyes blink open, much clearer than before.Â
"Hey," you say fondly.Â
He clears his throat. "Hey, beautiful."Â
You push your damp hand into his and he reciprocates, squeezing your fingers between his own until they ache. "Ah," you gasp, a startled laugh, "stop, you sicko."Â
He does as you say, pulling your joined hands to his abdomen. You don't speak for a while, looking at one another no differently than you usually do.Â
Eventually he smiles. "You look really pretty," he says.Â
You beam at him. "That's the fever talking."Â
"Not. You always look pretty." And I always tell you, he implies, raising his eyebrows at you.Â
"If you weren't so sick I'd be in your lap by now," you say.Â
"I know."Â
You lean forward and he lets you kiss his cheek. You try to catch his mouth and he turns his face away from you.Â
"You'll get sick."Â
"I can't get sick, I already had it."Â
"I might not even have what you had."Â
"Please, Teddy?"Â
He closes his eyes and sighs. You wait. He doesn't bother opening them again as he says, "Well?"Â
You take his face into both hands and kiss him very sweetly. There's a certain relief to be found in it. You know he feels it too when his breath catches.Â
Your hand moves over his cheek, behind his ear and into his hair. You kiss the corner of his lips, his chin, his cheek, and then push yourself under his face to kiss his neck, a tiny press of your lips as you wrap your arms around him and hug his shoulders. You're cautious not to put any of your weight on him.Â
Eddie's head drops on top of yours. He slouches against you, into you, exhausted.Â
"I love you," he says. It sounds like a thank you.Â
"I love you, too," you reply. You're welcome.Â
You rub your nose into his skin. He smells undeniably like himself, under everything.Â
just a girl that can't like shows a normal amount @katsfandomcorner - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
