a place to put the weight. | eddie munson x maggie quinn (oc) | pt. 13
shoving the inspo in ur face <3
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve
word count - 4k+
summary - grief works its way under the skin and stays. maggie picks and picks, hoping it'll dull on its own. eddie lets her talk untill it surfaces. the splinter comes out. the sting lingers.
The quiet from the cabin followed Maggie longer than she anticipated.
It clung to her skin as the gravel crunched under her feet. The hum of Claudia’s voice, the smell of dryer sheets, the way Magpie had landed too gently to defend against — it all stayed lodged between her ribs liek something left unfinished.
She smiled when she left, something close enough to real. She thanked Claudia politely and tried her hardest to ignore the feeling of her breakfast and grief coming up her throat.
It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Claudia. It was the fact she didn’t know what to do with her. With a motherly figure that held her even when she didn’t ask to be. Someone who saw her, despite how hard Maggie tried to bury herself beneath the hollow feeling.
Her feet were trucking to B13 before she noticed. The path worn into her aching bones.
She didn’t think about it, her feet already knowing where to go. Through the trees, past the places she stops to breathe, past the lake she didn’t want to think about tonight. The closer she got, the louder the world was— base thudding through the woods, voices bleeding together, laughter already too sharp. How B13 didn’t get busted? She had no clue, and tonight, it definitely wasn’t her priority.
Music pouring out of the abandoned cabin rattled her ribs, smoke hanging low in the air, bodies packed close enough it was a safety risk of some kind. It was the same as always. Too loud. Too crowded. Perfect for disappearing.
Someone shoved a red solo cup in her hand before her second foot was through the door, before she could decide otherwise.
She didn’t ask what was in it, didn’t need to.
The first sip burned, letting it sting just enough to remind her she’s still here, still breathing despite her desire to not be. The warmth blurred the edges of her thoughts in that familiar, dangerous way.
This was easier.
Easier than being held. Easier than being seen.
Across the room, Eddie Munson knew. Knew the feeling, the look in her eye, the way she guzzled down liquor too strong for her tolerance. He knew the feeling in the pit of her stomach that wouldn’t go away no matter how much alcohol she drank or weed she smoked.
He didn’t make it obvious, knew not to. He watched without staring, noticed without announcing it
He leaned against the warped wood counter, a beer sweating uselessly in his left hand, pretending to listen to his roommate Gareth argue about Sabbath. His eyes kept finding her anyway.
Maggie by the doorway. Maggie with her shoulder looser than he’s ever seen. Maggie drinking like she had a point to prove.
She didn’t look wrecked. That’s what was scary. To an untrained eye, shed still be functioning. Eyeliner still sharp and intact, mouth set in that practiced line that said don’t ask. But, Eddie knew the math of it all. Two cups became three, three became whatever someone handed her next, and soon she’d be laughing half a beat too late or talking like the words were tripping out of her mouth.
He noted the third drink. Then the fourth.
His stomach tightened, reflexive, muscle memory from nights he’d sworn he’d never repeat. He didn’t judge her for it — had no room to talk, really. But, watching made something in his chest pinch. Like watching someone pick a scab you knew was going to bleed.
Maggie laughed at something someone said. Louder, brighter, sharper around the edges. Nothing like the way he’d make her laugh. She tipped her head back to drink again, throat working and eyes briefly closing like they were bracing for impact.
Eddie looked away. Then couldn’t stop himself from looking back.
She was trying not to think. He could see it in the way she kept moving — drifting through bodies, letting hands brush her without flinching, leaning into the noise. If she stopped, if she slowed down, whatever Claudia Henderson cracked open would come seeping out.
He set the sweating, untouched beer on the counter, abandoning Gareth and whatever he was talking about.
She was talking when he got to her. Not to anyone in particular, just…talking.
“Swear to God, everyone in here smells like patchouli and bad decisions,” she said, words starting to blend into one as she gestured at nothing with her cup. “No offense….well, full offense. Yeah, all offense actually.”
Someone laughed. Someone handed her another drink.
Eddie stepped in before she could take a sip.
“Hey, Houdini.” he said calmly, like he wasn’t intercepting a bad idea. “What’s that? Number five?”
Maggie turned to him instantly.
“What?” Flat. Short. Sharp.
She moved towards him, movements a moment too slow, eyes glassy and unfocused before they settled on his face. Whatever haze the liquid had made faded away, replaced by something tired and guarded, like she didn’t have it in her to argue but couldn’t let it go unnoticed. There was a soft, defiant tilt to her mouth — more stubborn than angry, a little reckless in the way only a drunk sadness could bring.
“Yeh’ gonna lecture me now?”
Eddie shrugged. “Wasn’t planning on it”
“Good.” She took a big swig, swallowing harshly. “Cause m’not in the mood.”
“Clearly.”
She scoffed. “Then fuck off.”
He didn’t. He never did. He was present, grounded, infuriatingly calm and what seemed to be immune to her bark.
“You hover over everyone like this at parties?” her glare doesn’t change. Neither does his. “Or am I just gettin’ special treatment?”
“Only when someone looks like they’re tryna outrun their minds.”
Her jaw clenched. “You don’t know anything about my head.”
“Never said I did.”
That stalled her. She blinked hard, recalibrating as her irritation bubbled at the surface. “Why aren’t you drinking? Been holding that beer on the counter for the past hour”
“You keeping tabs on me?” Something like a grin or tease grew on his lips.
“I didn’t say I was.” Eddie could see the irritation starting to rise again, Maggie’s eyes peaking over the top of her solo cup. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Just not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
She scoffed, memories of him chucking a glass bottle at the tree in front of her cabin clear in her mind. “Yeah, sure.”
Maggie snorted and tipped the cup back again, like she was daring the memory to argue with her. It burned going down, harsher than before, sitting heavy in her chest.
Eddie didn’t say anything.
Didn’t explain. Didn't defend himself. Didn’t even give her that dumb smile.
That irritated her more than if he had.
She watched over the rim of her cup, eyes narrow and head tilting back like she was waiting for him to snap. “What? You gonna stand there and stare all night?”
“Maybe,” he said with an easy shrug.
She huffed something like a laugh. “God, you’re fuckin’ annoying.”
“Been hearing that a lot from you lately.”
She rolled her eyes again, shoulders sagging farther as the alcohol settled deeper. “Yeh’know what your problem is?”
“Enlighten me, Quinn.”
“You’re too…calm,” she said, taking drawn out steps forward as she pokes his chest with her finger. Not hard. Sloppy. “Makes people wanna throw shit at you.”
He glanced down at her hand, the back up. “That’s a shame. Been trying to avoid flying objects as of late.”
She scoffs, dropping her hand. “Figured.”
Another sweaty body bumped into her, hard enough to slosh the little bit of drink she had in her cup. She swore under her breath, wiping the excess from her fingers into her shorts, suddenly more annoyed than the moment deserved.
“Fuck’s sake,” she muttered. “S’like a fucking sauna in here.”
“Party charm,” Eddie nodded, still infuriatingly calm and collected.
“Yeah well,” she drawled, liquor making the words slippery. “Where I’m from, people know how to stand more than three inches apart.”
He stilled. Just a fraction.
“Where’s that?”
Maggie blinked, like she hadn’t meant to say it. Recovered quickly, scoffing at how he noticed the crack in her exterior. “Nowhere you’d like.”
“Try me.”
She leaned back against the wall, head knocking lightly against the wood, too heavy and filled with thoughts to hold. “Wisconsin,” she said, like it was a punchline. “Thrilling, isn’t it? Corn. Snow. People who ask what church you go to before your last name.”
Eddie watched her carefully. Didn’t interrupt, just to see if she’d keep going.
She did.
“At least there,” she added, voice a little looser now, not as defensive. “people leave you the fuck alone when you ask. None of this—“ she waved vaguely at the room, the noise, the bodies. “— whatever this is”
The music surged again, bass rattling the walls and their ribs. Maggie winced like it hit somewhere behind her eyes.
“God…s’fucking loud in here.”
Eddie just nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
She looked at him, frowning with these big, sad eyes, like she’d expected a joke or jab but didn’t get one. “You’re really not gonna fight me on anything, huh?”
“Doesn’t seem like what you need.”
She laughed. Short, bitter, disbelieving. “You know nothing about what I need.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I know firsthand when someone’s had enough of this.”
He reached out gently, slow like he was approaching a baby deer, but quick enough for her not to argue when he set it down in the warped countertop. Her eyes were heavy, shoulders slumping as if the cup was some kind of shield.
“Hey—“ she started, brow furrowing in that stubborn way it does when she doesn’t get what she wants. Maggie shook her head. “Whatever.”
Eddie nodded to the door. “C’mon.”
She squinted at him. “Where?”
“Outside.”
“Who said I was leaving?”
“No one,” he was calm once again, already stepping back to give her space. “I’m goin’ for a smoke. You can stay…drinks right there.” He gestured at the red cup beside them.
She hesitated.
Looked around at the room — the noise, the heat, the brushing of hands from people she didn’t know. Then, scoffed and pushed herself off the wall, arms crossed.
“Don’t get it twisted,” she huffed, stumbling over her feet as she followed him. “I just need air.”
Eddie held the door open.
“Yeah, Houdini. I know.”
The door creaked and slammed behind them, muffling the noise to a dull thrum. Not completely gone, just far enough so you could breathe.
The air was cool and damp, pine and dirt and lake water lingering with the mosquitos. It hit Maggie all at once, sharp enough to make her suck in a breath and huff it back out like it’d offended her.
“Jesus,” she grumbles, blinking harshly as the air knocks back into her. “Forgot what air was like.”
She leaned against the railing, palms flat against the splintering wood like she needed pressure to keep herself upright. Her head felt too heavy, thoughts sloshing around in there, loose and unguarded. A recipe for disaster.
Eddie stayed a few feet away. Not crowding or hovering, just there like he always was.
“Claudia,” Maggie said suddenly, surprising herself along with Eddie before making a face like she wished she could grab the word mid air and shove it back down her throat. “She’s fine. She’s…great, really. Too great.”
Eddie didn’t say anything. Just tipped his head ever so slightly and waited in the way that made Maggie’s heart flip.
“She looks at me like I’m fragile,” Maggie went on, words coming quicker now that she’d opened the dam that was her mouth. “Like m’gonna crack if she says the wrong thing or moves too fast. I don’t know what to do with it.”
She laughed, short and sharp and bitter, like the sound surprised her too.
“Like,” Maggie waved her hand uselessly, fingers not doing what she wanted them to. “She looks at me like m’already broken. Or like…like she’s waiting for it to happen. I don’t…” She trailed off, brow knitting tighter. “I don’t feel broken. I just feel…wrong.”
The words sat there between them. Ugly. Heavy.
She swallowed thickly and immediately hated the way Eddie was staring at her. Not in a pity way. Worse. Like he was actually listening to her.
Her thoughts started to slip, overlapping and mending. Wisconsin. The kitchen table. Her dad’s stupid mug with the stupid chip. The way Claudia’s house smelled too clean, too careful, like no one ever slammed a cabinet out of frustration.
“I don’t belong there.” She said too fast. “In Indiana. Or here. I don’t belong here either. Which is funny, ‘cause everyone keeps telling me I do.”
She pressed her palms harder into the wood railing.
Grounding, grounding, grounding, pinch.
The wood splintered its way into the pad of her pointer finger.
“At home,” she kept going, ignoring the sting of the wood weaving its way into her flesh. “people didn’t look at me like that. They just…left me alone. Or yelled…or pretended nothin’ was wrong, which honestly was always easier.”
Her chest tightened, the air suddenly too thick.
“My dad used to-“ she stopped herself. Hard. Shook her head like she could dislodge the thought. “Never mind.”
Eddie didn’t move. Didn’t push. Just watched her with that stupid quiet patience that made her skin itch and her blood bubble.
“God,” she mumbles, annoyed at herself, at him, at the wood stuck in her finger. “You’re staring."
“Am not,” He lied evenly, hoping she didn’t catch him.
“You are,” she insisted, turning her head to glare at him, then immediately regretting it when the alcohol made her world tilt. “Not in a creepy way. Just…like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re waitin’ for me to say somethin’ important.” Maggie laughed again, breathy and a little wild, shaking her head. “I don’t have anything important to say.”
The lie tasted like the Family Ties theme song.
Her brain wouldn’t shut up. Dad’s truck. The way he used to tap the steering wheel when he was thinking. The fact that she couldn’t remember the sound of his voice unless she really tried.
“I keep thinkin’ about going back,” she said somewhat suddenly. “Like if I went home it’d all make sense again. But, it wouldn’t. He’d still be dead.” The word slipped out before she could stop it.
Dead. Heavy. Final.
Maggie sucked in a sharp, angry breath. “Fuck!”
Her eyes burned. She blinked hard, refused to let anything spill.
“I’m so mad,” she admits, quieter than her previous words. “Like…all the time. Just…furious. At him. At me. At Claudia. At Dustin.” she scoffed, trying to swallow the giant lump of tears. “At you.”
“That tracks.” Eddie said gently, the softest ghost of a laugh and smile in his words.
She snorted, despite herself before the resting frown took over again.
“I don’t like that you see me,” she said, voice wobbling now, liquor loosening the last knots. “Makes it harder to pretend I’m fine. And I am…fine. I am. Mostly.”
She wasn’t. They both knew she wasn’t. But, neither was Eddie. And, they both knew he wasn’t either.
Her gaze dropped to his hands, remembering the way they felt on her hip. The warmth the callouses brought to her cheeks when he kissed her in his cabin. Her eyes went back up to his face, his eyes didn’t dart away. Didn’t crowd her either. Like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
And he did.
“You keep lookin’ at me like I’m,” She faltered, words slipping through her fingers. “Like I matter. And that’s…a lot to hold.”
Her throat closed. “Jesus, I’m wasted. Don’t listen to me.”
“I’m good.” Eddie nodded, watching as she continued to pick at the splinter in her finger. “I can listen.”
That did it. Something in her chest cracked, just a hairline fracture but enough to take one of the hundreds of bricks off her chest.
“I don’t wanna be like this forever.” Her voice was barely louder than the buzzing cicadas in the trees. “I don’t wanna keep ruining rooms…or drinking shit I don’t even like just to make my brain shut up.”
She wiped her face with the back of her palm, angry there was moisture at all.
“And I don’t wanna go back inside,” She added quickly, panic creeping in. “So don’t make me.”
“Didn’t plan on it.” Eddie looked up from her hands.
Maggie let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“Okay,” she muttered. “Good.”
She stayed where she was. Wobbly. Open. Messy.
And Eddie stayed too.
The noise from inside B13 stayed muffled behind the cabin walls — bass still thudding, laughter still rising and falling — but it felt far away now, like it belonged to someone else. Crickets filled the gaps, cicadas buzzing steady and constant.
Maggie shifted against the railing, rolling her shoulders. Her finger still throbbed where the splinter sat lodged beneath her skin, sharp enough now it silenced the thrumming of bugs around them.
She frowned at it, picking at the skin with her nail. “Fuck.”
Eddie glanced down, didn’t comment, just reached out and wrapped his fingers around the delicate and pale skin of her wrist.
“Hold on,” He said calmly.
Her reflex flared instantly. “Hey!—“
But he was already steadying her hand, thumb warm against her knuckle. Not rough. Not forced. Just…decided.
Normally, she would’ve pulled away. Would’ve argued on principle alone. Would’ve made an effort to make a thing about it. But, the alcohol dulled the edge of that instinct.
Eddie’s grip wasn’t demanding — it was grounding. Like he’d already known she’d let him.
So she did.
He leaned in, brows knitting together as he inspected the splinter. The porch light caught his lashes, the concentration etched into his features. Maggie found herself watching him instead of her finger, noting the way his thumb rubbed ever so slightly.
“Pickin’ at it isn’t gonna make it any better,” he muttered.
“Wasn’t,” she mumbles. “Was assessin’ the wound.”
“Menace,” he said quietly.
She huffed a laugh, shoulders loosening. He took the softness gracefully, pressing lightly into either side of the splinter. Maggie sucked in a sharp breath, whole body tensing at the sting.
“Eddie—“
“I got you,” he said, easy as anything.
A quick pinch. A sharp sting enough to make her wince. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and then—
“There,” he breathed easy, holding up the tiny sliver of wood between his fingers like proof.
Maggie blinked. Exhaled, long and shaky. “Oh.”
“See?” he said, thumb rubbing over the pad of her finger to check the spot. “Still in one piece.”
The touch lingered for a beat too long before he caught himself and quickly let go.
She flexed her hand, testing his work. “Huh.”
“What?”
“That was…fine.”
“High praise,” Eddie said, corners of his mouth lifting into something like a smile.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Took a drag, exhaled away from her like it was second nature, then held it out without her having to ask.
Maggie took it.
Their fingers brushed — warm, brief— and something in her chest shifted.
She inhaled, shallow and twisted before coughing. “These are still gross.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said. “They are.”
She passed it back. “Still smoke ‘em anyway."
“Still smoke ‘em anyway.”
They shared it in silence, trading drags, shoulder brushing each time they shifted to the other foot. The night pressed in close, cool and damp, the smell of pine and lake water settling between them.
At some point — Maggie wasn’t sure when — she leaned.
Just enough.
Her temple found Eddie’s shoulder like it’d always known where to go.
Eddie went still. Statue still.
Every thought in his mind short circuited at once. Her weight was light but real, warm through his jacket. He could feel her breathing slow, feel the way her body relaxed against him like she trusted him not to drop her.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t dare to breathe too deep.
Didn’t even blink for a second too long in fear this was another dream.
Holy shit.
He stared out into the dark, heady suddenly doing a lot more than necessary, absolutely terrified that if he shifted even an inch she’d pull away —or worse, realize what she’d done.
Maggie exhaled softly, cheek settling more comfortably against him.
“Don’t make it weird.” she mumbled, eyes still shut.
“I’m not,” Eddie’s lie is so obvious it’s painful.
She hummed, satisfied and stayed right where she was.
They finished the cigarette like that. Ash falling unnoticed. The ember dying out between their fingers.
Inside, someone shouted Eddie’s name.
He didn’t even look back.
Maggie didn’t move.
And Eddie — heart racing, shoulder warm, brain completely useless — stayed exactly where she needed him.
HIHIHI! HAPPY NEW YEAAR! hope yall arent too mad at me for taking forever i just like have a full time job LMFAO but i hope you all enjoyed!!! im getting too attached to them this is not good!!! THANK YOU FOR READING ILY comment and reblog and like if any of this tickles your fancy <333
