Yay I'm so happy you like my drawing! I do have a request if you don't mind writing it. I'd like a cute story about Eddie and a shy girl who works at an electronic shop. I imagine Eddie has to go to the shop sometime when he needs something for his electric guitar.
a/n: thanks for the request! i really enjoyed writing this. i tweaked it a little, hope you don’t mind! looking forward to any more art/requests :D
& ,, STALKER IN AISLE FIVE
eddie munson x gn!reader
warnings: mentions of sexual themes, eds calling himself a pervert lol, lots of awkward convo and fluff.
you notice a certain curly-haired nerd frequently visiting your workplace. finally, you decide to acknowledge his stalking. 1.9k
WORKING at Hawkins’ electronic store was not on your bucket list. Sure, you were fascinated by the up-and-coming technology that was slowly progressing as the years went on. But that didn’t stop your distaste for having to actually go in for your shifts.
Although the summer job had slowly spread into the rest of the year and your mind was ready to explode, you’d be lying if you said working there was all bad.
There was at least one thing you enjoyed. A certain curly-haired ‘freak’ who had a habit of stopping by multiple times a week.
You’d noticed him around three months ago. He had pranced in, mop of curls bouncing with every step he took. He was pretty to look at, although extremely eccentric, and you gathered that’s most likely the reason why your eyes had drifted to him in the first place.
But what held your gaze was how it was extremely obvious that he was coming there to see you.
You had only joined Hawkins High for your senior year, trying your best to avoid as many people as possible. You weren’t exactly the most friendly — Curse your awkwardness in social situations — But despite your quiet demeanour and sarcastic humour as a defence mechanism for your nerves, you had caught his eye years ago.
He’d thought he’d lost his chance to speak to you when you had graduated, but seeing you working here had felt like some sort of sign. He didn’t believe in God, but somebody had taken pity on him, and he would forever be doing penance for that.
The small, rusted bell above the door chimes as the hinges squeak, announcing a customer has arrived. You don’t bother looking up from your magazine, knowing already who’d be stupid enough to come in at 8:02am.
You can feel a set of eyes on you as he wanders across the various aisles of cables and antennas, watching your chest press against the wooden counter. The only sound that fills the store is his heavy footsteps and the occasional turn of your page.
He feels like a pervert. The shame creeps up on him continuously when he finds himself staring, observing every small move you make. It’s the only thing that gratifies him, even though it’s just a reminder that he can’t find the courage to actually have a conversation longer than three sentences.
You sigh upon hearing him halt, never tearing your eyes away from the bold images in front of you. If he isn’t going to make a move, then maybe you can find some confidence from somewhere. “Can I help you, Eddie?”
Crash.
“Uh…” he lets out slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He takes a quick peek at the mess of display tapes he’s knocked over, cursing internally at his body’s reaction to hearing you speak his name. “Clean up on aisle five?”
You try not to smile, tilting your head down further to hide your amusement. “Better put those hands to good use then.”
Eddie tries to ignore the sexual meaning he takes away from your words, burning red as he drops to his knees dramatically to quickly to stack the shelf again. He tries to organise them, but the current state of his bedroom proves that he’s already no good at that. You can hear him curse from your position behind the desk, despite him uttering it under his breath.
“Just leave it,” you announce quickly, worried you’d put far too much pressure on him. You’d only meant it as a joke, not expecting the boy to actually fold in half and bend to your commands. It’s a little too much power to hold, something you’d never experienced before. “I get paid to do that, so…”
“Right,” he lets out, trying to smoothly saunter up to the counter. He ends up whacking his knee into another cabinet on the way there, earning an actual physical laugh from you this time. He feels proud, despite knowing deep down that you’re really just laughing at his pain. If a fool is his part to play, then he’ll play it with an award-winning performance. “Anyways, uh, I’m here to…” He scans the shop, desperately looking for an excuse. “Guitar strings. Want ‘em. Need ‘em, actually. Pesky thing...”
He trails off with an awkward laugh, watching your eyebrows raise in amusement. You let him ramble on about the importance of his music and how sacred it is, unable to find your voice after initially greeting him. It’s something you’ve always struggled with. The sole reason you had graduated with decent grades but not a single person to celebrate that achievement with. You wanted interaction, but with the students of Hawkins High already making assumptions about your quietness, it was hard to do so.
Eddie notices your silence after a minute or two, cheeks reddening from his mouth’s persistence. He tilts his head, a grin widening on his face when you match his smile. “Yeah… and you definitely don’t get paid enough to deal with idiots like me.”
“You’re not an idiot,” you state almost immediately, words coming out a little raspy. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say in response to so much attention from one person, but luckily your brain makes that decision for you for once. “Kind of chatty, but that's okay.”
“Usually my voice can lull a thousand people. I’m like a siren, truly.” He gets another laugh from you, one that’s snorted and entirely unattractive. To him? It’s the most beautifully raw sound he’s ever heard. He decides then and there that he’s already in love with it. “Guitar strings? Yes?”
You falter, suddenly coming back down to reality from the cloud he’d ascended you to. Of course, the essential thing he’d ‘come in’ for. Even though you know it’s just a rouse, you can’t help but feel bad when you break the news to him.
“You… know this is an electronics store, right? We don’t sell anything, like, remotely close to guitars.” You watch his smile evidently drop, although he manages to somehow keep the corners of his lips upturned. There’s a flash of rejection that passes over his eyes, a look that has your heart squeezed impossibly tight. Eddie is the only person who’s remotely considered approaching you, other than the band of jocks that occasionally took a dig at your shy nature. In light, he was the only person who’d been kind. You didn’t want to let that go.
You can see the tops of his thighs twitch, the only part of his legs visible from where you’re standing. It’s enough to alert you that he’s going to leave, and although this is your first time conversing something other than ‘Enjoy your purchase’ or ‘Have a nice day’, you found yourself oddly connected to him.
So much so, that you offer the only thing that comes to your mind.
“W-We do sell amps though!”
Eddie Munson finds himself the new owner of a glossed amplifier a few moments later, covering the empty hole in his wallet where his cash should be with a forced smile. He’ll have to explain the lack of groceries to his uncle later. Something a lot better than wanting to impress a person he finds attractive.
“Aaaand here’s your receipt. You can return it within ten days if there’s any issues. Company policy, and all that fine print stuff…” You don’t finish the rest of your trained response, deciding he’s probably bought enough things in here over the last few months to know what you’re going to say. He simply nods, patting the large speaker awkwardly on the desk.
“Forgot how big these things are,” he begins, smoothing his palm over the dials and buttons as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress another laugh. He lets out a low whistle, and you ignore how your neck begins to flush with heat at the sound. “Like, wayyyy too big. Huge. Enormous, even-”
“You already have an amp, don’t you?” You finally put him out of his misery, watching his nose scrunch in embarrassment before he pats the speaker again, this time a little more forcefully.
“...Yeah.”
You open the till. “Okay, give it back. I’ll refund you-”
“W-What? No- No no no, I can take it. I don’t wanna get you in trouble, or anything- I’m a bad influence but not this bad.” He rushes out, hands waving in front of his face in frantic motions. You reach forward bravely, taking a hold of them to still his movements.
His breath hitches.
You strain your neck to look behind him, gazing over the empty parking spots out front on the street. They’ve been barren since last night. “I don’t see your van outside. There’s no way I’m going to actually let you carry that.” You chuckle along with your words, watching Eddie blink rapidly at you.
“You know my van?” He asks out of disbelief, but there’s a hint of a teasing tone to his words. He doesn’t mean to. However, there’s a natural charm and cockiness to him that never seems to cease. You kind of like it.
The sound of the register opening distracts him from his shocked stare, coins jingling within the metal. You count out the bills he’d handed over, sliding them across the counter with another timid grin.
“Being off the radar means I do a lot of observing,” Eddie gingerly reaches up to swipe the money, short-circuiting when his fingers envelop yours, unmoved from where you had originally laid them down. “Like what car you drive, and the new patch on your jacket, and the fact that you’ve been in here five times this week already.”
This time, Eddie blushes. A full-on rosy tint that spreads across his cheeks like the first brush stroke to an empty canvas. It paints him beautifully, mentally applauding yourself for finding comfortability in talking to him. It’s a personal success you can celebrate later.
“I… didn’t realise you could see me.” He admits honestly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes a quick glance around the store. His body physically turns to spy his multitude of hiding spaces, ones that he’s thought were somewhat decent. He hides his dismay well.
“You’re kind of hard not to look at,” Eddie nearly contracts whiplash at your response, eyes wide and mouth agape at your somewhat confession. Him? Lanky, scrawny, non-showered, freaky nerd Eddie Munson? You giggle at his obvious starstruck expression, deciding to take another leap of faith. You lean forward over the counter with the cash in hand, fingertips tracing the waist of his jeans as you stuff the bills into his front pocket. “See you same time tomorrow for those guitar strings?”
Eddie nods, body numb and on auto-pilot as he backs out of the store. His parted lips soon pull together to produce a grin when he reaches the door, green notes protruding from his pocket like some sort of ‘mark’ you’d left on him. He tries not to let his mind wander too far at that idea, for his own sanity.
“It’s a date.” He mutters eagerly, despite knowing that a ten minute conversation at your workplace is the worst romantic idea he’s ever come up with.
Still, you eat up every ounce of his dorky charm with a wide grin and a flutter in your stomach. “Yeah... It's a date, stalker in aisle five.”