🎟️FOR MY FIRST REQUEST DEAREST CINEPHILE, I would like young at heart with perhaps some hurt to comfort for Eddie!🎟️
Thinking about an older Eddie who's been into you for a while but he isn't sure how to make the first step (deep down inside he's still anxious about being "a freak") but then your car breaks down and he's all the more ready to fix it. The pressure builds up, a confession explodes, you both scream, but finally he brings you some flowers (and a finalized car)
-🪦
THIS HAS BEEN IN MY ASK SINCE LAST YEAR IM SO SORRY 😞 This is for you sluggy! I hope you feel better!! ❤️
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem! Reader
Word count: 2k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader except for clothing, established relationship, mechanic! Eddie, canon divergence, a bit of loser! Eddie, fluff!
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Katy's summer flick screening
The sun grills Eddie’s arm as it dangles from the old van window, its paint is chipping that he could feel it graze the pads of his fingers. Metal music blares from the speakers, muffling the sound of the engine as he goes flat out on the empty highway out of Hawkins. He’s in a bad mood, more than usual since he hasn’t seen you in weeks. Weeks without seeing your smile, weeks without hearing how you utter his name lovingly every time he fixed your old beaten up car for you. It’s like he hasn’t drank water in days, or felt the sunshine on his skin in years. It’s an over exaggeration, he knows that, but that's how harsh his longing is.
For the past year, every other week or so you’d be at the shop, almost in near tears whenever something breaks down in your car. He has told you numerous times that it’s ancient and should be sold for scrap at that point, but you kept it for sentimentalities sake. You love that car, an old cherry red miata that has a story from every scratch and every dent on it. But recently though, you come through the garage with a smile, and a box of donuts for him and his uncle. No tears, no worried wringing of your hands, just all smiles and gentle eyes that he could feel gaze at him whenever he pops the hood of your car to check the pristine engine.
Sometimes he swears that you only come to the garage just to see him. But that’s just wishful thinking on his part when he’s still the same Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson from high school who still hangs out in his friend’s basement to play D&D with them till the sun rises. When you’re all sunshine and flowy summer dresses with that same beaming smile he finds so endearing. If he went to high school with you back then you’d be one of the popular girls that would ignore him in favour of your jock boyfriend. You don’t deserve a man whose hands are always coated in oil grease, and a wardrobe consisting of old faded tees and mechanic overalls covered in paint and oil. Or at least, that’s what Eddie thinks as he speeds down on the highway during a searing summer heat that has his mouth dry and sweat rolling down his nape.
Despite the opened window and his hair tied in a ponytail, it doesn’t grant him much reprieve from the heat, nor for the longing. He feels like a lovelorn schoolboy waiting for his crush to pass by the hallways and acknowledge him with a quick wave.
Eddie’s already late for the house call that he reluctantly took for some quick cash, it’s out of his way but the old lady on the phone was sweet and promised a generous tip once he finishes fixing the brakes in her van. His lashes flutter as he could see the heat coming off in waves whilst he drives by a cherry red miata broken down on the side of the road.
Wait.
He breaks so harshly that he’s sure that he got whiplash.
The van goes to an abrupt stop with the squeak of the tires, and he could see a figure waving him down from his side mirror. A very familiar figure in that familiar yellow sundress with daffodils on it.
“Holy shit.” Eddie swallows thickly, blinking and rubbing at his eyes in case you were a mirage. He lowers the music to see you better.
Once you make it to his side of the van, you’re heaving and sweating underneath a sun hat.
“Fuck, you know how to make a girl run after you, huh?” Your cheeks feel like fire, sweat clinging onto your brows as you smile at him despite the sweltering heat. “Just my luck to see a mechanic pass by. Hi, Eddie.”
“Hi?” He doesn’t mean it to be a question, so he clears his throat, hoping that you didn’t notice his small fumble. “Hey, you good, sweetheart?”
“My baby broke down,” wincing, you suck in your teeth as you look at him apologetically. “Right when I’m already so close to Hawkins.”
Eddie blinks like a fish out of water. He just now acknowledges how much he missed you, an awful feeling when he really really wants to charm you when you’re the one who has effortlessly charmed him.
“Yeah, can I check your car?”
“Please, I’ve been praying to hear those words today.” Your relief is palpable as you step aside for Eddie to get out of the van. “Sorry to bother you, Eds.”
“You’re never a bother.” He lets out without much thinking. He’d take it back but the softened look on your face says that you liked that line, so he mentally pats himself on the back. “What happened?” The sun bears down upon him and he instantly melts like fallen ice cream on pavement.
Eddie follows you closely, but not too close when the heat makes every movement uncomfortable. He keeps a lookout for any cars on the road, an arm ready to push you away if one gets too close for comfort.
“I was on my way home from my cousin’s place and well, I think my baby couldn’t handle the added weight.” Stopping behind the car, he immediately sees the amount of luggages and bags in the backseat while the roof is down. “I thought it could after the upgrade you gave her last time.”
“Well, it looks like she at least got you there without a problem.” Eddie wipes at the sweat collecting at his nape.
“Yeah,” you chuckle, and it sounds like music to his ears. But not like metal music, more akin to a soft jazz, or a classical that his uncle occasionally listens to unwind at the end of the day, one that he confesses he has grown fond of. “Got me into all sorts of places.”
Eddie has to blink lest he’s mesmerized by the pretty expression you have on. “That’s good,” is all he could muster as he goes to pop open the smoking hood, and just like he suspected, the engine is overheating. Coughing, he fans away the smoke from his face to get a better look. “What sort of places?”
“The mountains,” you sigh wistfully, leaning against the car door as your head tilts to take a look at how his biceps flex peeking from his old t-shirt that he snipped the sleeves off with kitchen scissors. “They were huge, and…” you get lost in his biceps.
“What?” Eddie pokes his head out from under the hood, face reddened from the steam and absolutely sweating through his shirt. “Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t hear you.”
“Nothing,” you shake your head, acting innocent. “I said that my vacation was fun.”
Vacation, Eddie feels so dumb now. You weren’t avoiding him or that you moved away, you were just out on vacation enjoying yourself. But that doesn’t mean that his longing was entirely unfounded. He did truly miss you.
“That’s great that you had fun.” He sends you a wobbly smile, too bashful to give you a full grin. “Listen, it’s just overheated, it’ll cool down on its own. I have some water in my van that should make quick work of it.”
Your sigh in relief. “Thank fuck, I thought I busted the engine again. Thank you, I should just wait here until it cools down.”
Eddie pauses midstep back to the van. “In this heat?”
You chuckle with a shrug. “As if I have a choice.”
“Sweetheart, you’ll cook and probably die of heatstroke.” He facepalms himself mentally after saying such a morbid thing.
To his surprise, you laugh, a good laugh that rumbles your chest and sends him into a tizzy. “Yeah, probably, I’ll haunt you if I do.”
“What if…” biting his lip and clawing at the back of his neck that will surely be sun burned, Eddie tries something that has his heart racing. “What if you come with me? I–I have a house call fifteen minutes away from here but it’ll be a quick job and then I’ll get you back here. By then your baby would’ve cooled off. Just make sure we close the roof or else your stuff won’t be here when we get back.”
“You sure?” Your heart beats a thousand miles per second. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“Yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly even though it’s the least nonchalant feeling he has ever felt. “It’ll be like a date— I mean.” Fuck, he shouldn’t have let his mouth run before his own thoughts could. “Shit, that’s not what I meant, I just—”
“So it’s not a date?” Taking a deep breath, you pick at your nail as you look at him bashfully. “I’d be disappointed if it’s not.”
“Wait, what?” He’s fifty percent sure that you’re just a mirage. “I–I don’t, I don’t even have flowers for you.”
You step closer, batting your lashes as you chuckle softly, utterly endeared. “I’ll live.”
“Yeah, but, it’s just a housecall to an old lady’s house. Her car probably smells like… old people.”
“I’m fine with that.” Shrugging, you feel the gnawing doubt, maybe you read him wrong? That all the longing glances and fluttered lashes aimed at you were nothing more than just Eddie being Eddie? What his uncle told you one afternoon after you brought in coffee for them was also him misreading his nephew? This man is still a mystery to you, thank goodness you love uncovering mysteries. But if the mystery wants to remain unsolved then you just have to accept it. “It’s— I’m sorry, you’re right, it’s not a date. You’re just trying to be nice so I don’t burn here.”
Shit, Eddie feels like his heart is about to burst out of him. “Yeah, I mean…fuck, not really.”
“Not really?” Brows furrowed, you bite the inside of your cheek. “Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable I thought you liked me and I—”
“Uncomfortable?” Sweat trickles down his temple, a hand reaching out to you out of instinct before moving away. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
His whole shaky and sweaty demeanor says otherwise.
“You sure look like it though.” You answer with a low voice, hands wringing around the other up your front. “Do I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to, I just thought that you’re a great guy and I wanted to be friends with you, no strings attached— and then after what your uncle told me—”
“What did my uncle tell you?” Eddie’s sirens go off inside his head. He’s in full panic mode. What the fuck did his uncle tell you?
“Just that, you like me?” You utter with an apologetic wince. “He’s probably wrong but, it made me like you even more, y’know? That you feel the same way.”
“More?” Repeating your words, Eddie stands there under the heat like a cooked salmon. Red ears and all. “You like me?” Eddie points at himself, befuddled.
“Yeah,” your lips curl into a soft smile and a sigh akin to a chuckle. “For some time now. I don’t bring donuts to anyone, and I just don’t drop by every time my car makes a sound because of it, y’know. I…just wanted to see you is all.”
“I thought you were just being nice, sweetheart.” Eddie steps forward first, and you meet him halfway with your pinky intertwining with his own. He’d hold your hand fully if not for this blasted heat. “But you were being nice to me.”
“Yeah, because I like you.” His ears are the same color as your car. “Is your offer still up?” Squeezing his pinky, you gaze into his eyes affectionately that you swear you heard his breath hitch. “I don’t mind waiting, I’ve waited this long.”
“Yeah, but next time though, I’ll bring you flowers.” Eddie tenderly squeezes your pinky. Damn the heat, he slides his hand into yours properly, and intertwines his fingers with your own. Then he takes it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss right above your pulse point.
Your grin could rival the sunshine at how bright it is. “Deal.”
RIP Marjane Satrapi, author of the amazing graphic novels Persepolis about living during the fundamentalist revolution in Iran in the 70’s and 80’s. She also created the animated movie based on the graphic novels, which is where these gifs come from.
Reblogging in honor of Marjane Satrapi, one of THE great graphic novelists. Her comic Persepolis was a crucial text for shaping my belief that comics can deeply explore identity, culture, politics, and history.
RIP Marjane Satrapi, author of the amazing graphic novels Persepolis about living during the fundamentalist revolution in Iran in the 70’s and 80’s. She also created the animated movie based on the graphic novels, which is where these gifs come from.
Reblogging in honor of Marjane Satrapi, one of THE great graphic novelists. Her comic Persepolis was a crucial text for shaping my belief that comics can deeply explore identity, culture, politics, and history.
RULES: make a poll with 10 of your favorite shows, they can be just 10 shows you loved watching or your top 10 tv shows of all time, then tag 10 people !!
pixelskylines
stormborns
areudirty
gummygunk
jacobvanloon
origamiaround
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
