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becca-alexa · 1 year

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Baby, It's Cold

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re snowed in with no heat, so you suggest sharing body heat to keep from freezing - but how far will things go between you and Steve?

Word Count: 6.3K

Content Warnings: p in v sex, general smut, cursing, consensual touching

Author’s Note: feedback appreciated!! i don't have much experience writing stuff like this, and i figured practice makes perfect 💗

It was a miracle Robin had managed to snag the cabin - who in their right mind would ever rent out an entire villa in the woods to a bunch of twenty-somethings? It was unheard of, or so she claimed, because none of them could get her to shut up about how well she'd haggled for the place, how she'd bartered with the owner over coffee and used her mile-a-minute voice to confuse them into signing off on them staying the weekend.

The place was far, far outside of Hawkins, an urgently-welcome retreat for all of you after what had proved to be the most difficult year of your lives. Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, you and Steve - you'd all made plans to meet up and drive over together; Eddie had given his van a well-needed tune up specifically for this trip, so that it could handle everyone and everything in one go. But, as was quickly - annoyingly - becoming the norm with your group, your plans fell through… sort of.

"What do you mean, you're stuck in Indy?" Steve tried to keep his voice down as he balanced the payphone receiver against his ear, hands shoved into the pockets of his jean jacket as he braced himself against the cold. "Robbie, we've been planning this trip for weeks-"

"I know, I know!" Robin hurriedly replied; you tried not to giggle too loudly as Steve rolled his eyes. "But Nancy had this thing she needed to pick up, and Eddie had offered to drive us, then Jonathan and Argyle wanted to tag along-"

"What, so you didn't think to tell me about your little day trip?" Steve dragged a hand through his styled hair, shifted from one leg to the other, slapping a hand against his thigh in exasperation. Can you believe her?, he mouthed to you, biting back a grin when you shook your head.

"Just go with [Y/N]!" Robin insisted - and in retrospect, you'd realize she'd insisted a bit too intently, but you weren't thinking of that now.

What you were thinking of was how in Heaven's name were going to survive the entire three-hour drive up to the cabin, alone with Steve Harrington.

Your best friend, your bat-wielding protector, the sole object of your desires - Hell, he was the only crush you'd ever had, and even after so many years, your affections for the man still ran as deep as ever.

"Robin says they'll meet us at the cabin tomorrow." Steve asked, holding the phone away from his face as he turned toward you, head falling to the side, hair bouncing over his face. "That okay with you?"

"T-That's fine." You reply with a nod, staring at the lock that had fallen over his forehead, and you prayed he hadn't picked up on how your voice had cracked.

"You owe us, Robbie." Steve replied gruffly, but you knew there was no bite to his words. "Seriously this time."

"Sure, sure! Whatever!" Robin hurriedly replied; from where you were standing, you could barely make out what sounded like Argyle… shouting at someone? "Drive safe!"

"Rob-" The line went dead, loudly buzzing in his ear; Steve groaned as he all but slammed the receiver against the payphone, his brows furrowing as he began to lose himself in his thoughts. You took a step toward him, bridging the gap that'd been left between you; your fingers were soft as they brushed over his skin, trailing over the soft hair covering his forearm, pulling him out of his own head.

"Steve, it'll be fine." Your voice was quiet, and you hoped it'd calm him down - the last thing you needed was Steve driving up a rugged, unfamiliar mountain upset. "We'll try calling again when we get there, okay?"

He nodded, blinking at the warm smile you gave him - your smiles were always warm, always gentle, but every time he'd be graced with it, he'd remind himself not to get too excited.

You smiled at everyone like that, he'd convinced himself, desperate to believe it were true, that the look of pure sunshine on your face wasn't just for him - because how could it be?

It was, but that's another story.

You walked to his car, your pace picking up to a jog as the bitter cold sunk through your clothes. Steve beat you to it, holding the door open for you.

"Ever the gentleman, huh?" You teased, climbing into the seat and pulling the heavy thing shut behind you.

Had you hesitated just for a moment longer, you'd have caught how Steve burned at your words, how he'd licked his dry lips nervously as his mind froze up, hands trembling as they fisted at his sides.

You weren't the only one with a lingering crush.

Taking a steeling breath, he walked over to the driver's side, hands cupped over his mouth as he shut the door, working desperately to stave off the chill biting at his fingertips.

"Ready?" The car roared to life beneath his hands, the sound a welcome comfort ahead of your long journey; you cranked the heating up to the highest setting. Again, you smiled at him, fuzzy and soft; he smiled in return, and he pulled the car out of the gas station parking lot and onto the main road.

You'd been driving for hours.

"You find it yet?" asked Steve, glancing at you for what felt like the millionth time as you scanned the map creased and wrinkled atop your lap, your brows furrowed in concentration as you traced your finger over one of many wiggling lines.

"There should be a road up ahead on the left…" You mumbled in reply, flipping the map upside down, this way and that. Should you have brought a compass? "Maybe the right…? No, wait, definitely the left."

"You sure?" Steve asked hesitantly - he'd driven through more open country roads and empty spatterings of woods than he could remember; in the dark, he couldn't even tell he was driving uphill.

"You don't trust my cartography skills, Harrington?" Your lifted your brow, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your pressed lips. "Take the next left, then it should be at the end of the road."

"I trust you, but this baby's only got so much gas." You laughed at him, clear and pleasant, his smile widening at the sound of it. "Here?"

"Yeah, turn here."

The car jumped as it crossed off the main road and onto the dirt, leading up the side of whatever mountain you were on; Steve's hand flew out to hold you down before he could think to stop himself, and you clung to him as the jolting continued on, both of you only relaxing when the cabin finally came into view.

And, boy, was it a view.

"Robin got us this?" You exclaimed, gaping at the expansive cabin before you, eyes sparkling as Steve turned the interior light on. "This is amazing!"

"It's a cabin." Steve shrugged, and your head snapped to look at him - he sounded… unimpressed? "What? I think it's nice." You rolled your eyes at him and climbed out of the car; he followed closely behind, insisting he carry your bag, ignoring your protests against it altogether.

As though the outside of the cabin wasn't impressive enough, the inside was lavish enough that even Steve was taken by surprise. Two floors, six bedrooms, wall-to-wall log paneling, a massive fireplace across the main living room stocked to overflow with cut firewood.

"'S it still just nice?"

"It's really nice."

The both of you explored the space, running from room to room, gawking at the luxurious kitchen and the equally-massive wraparound deck leading out from it. And, having taken in your fill, the two of you begin making dinner - rather, Steve was making dinner and you were relegated to chopping and slicing duty, the conversation between you lighthearted and teasing.

Midway through your simple stir-fry dinner, seated in the kitchen, you were the first to notice the change in the weather.

"Steve," You nudged him, and he gave you a questioning look, stopping mid-chew to look at whatever you were pointing at. "It's snowing!"

"Huh." His brows furrow, his gaze dropping to nothing. "The weather report didn't mention snow."

"It shouldn't be too bad, right?" You tried to reassure him - and yourself, too - as you followed his train of thought. "They'll make it by tomorrow, for sure."

"Yeah, for sure…" Steve didn't sound too convinced, but you didn't push the conversation further. Seeing as how he'd made dinner, you volunteered to do the dishes. And, ever the good friend, he'd kept you company, even drying off and putting away whatever you'd finished washing.

"Steve, I said I was doing the dishes…" You huffed, pulling the damp towel slung over his shoulder and giving his chest a light-hearted swat.

"What, I'm not allowed to help?" He danced around you, snatching back the towel, and you swiveled around to reach him; he lifted the towel far above your head, well out of your reach, laughing as you tried to jump for it.

"Steve Harrington, give that back!"

"Just let me-"

Stricken mid-sentence, the lights flickered.

You froze - you both did, Steve's arm an instant vice as he held you against his chest. Neither of you spoke, neither breathed as you listened for the tell-tale sounds of danger, of an unholy nightmare resurrected. You buried your face into the solid safety of his chest, clinging to his shirt as his eyes scanned the room. Several painful, heavy minutes passed before you slowly began to feel him relax, his hold on you loosening ever so slightly.

"Let me go check the power…" he mumbled, his reluctance palpable as he left you alone, all but running down the hallway to where he'd remembered seeing a breaker box. Throwing it open, he flicked through every switch, yet the cabin remained shrouded in darkness.

Shutting the panel door, and rounding the corner back into the kitchen, he narrowly missed being hit across the eye by the empty vase you'd commandeered as a weapon.

"Whoa! Watch the face!" He jumped back, falling out of your swinging range. "The power's out. Snow must've knocked down a line or something." He explained, voice assured, and you sagged in relief at his words, hands visibly shaking as you set the vase back atop the counter. Without missing a beat, Steve stepped toward you, taking your hands in his own, enveloping them, his touch silently pleading you to look at him.

"Hey," His voice was buttery-soft, gentle in a way he only ever used with you. "There's nothing here. It's just us."

You shake your head, swallowing dryly, your head falling to your chest as you steadied the erratic beating of your heart. "Y-Yeah, you're right."

Steve nodded, calling forth every fiber of his being to let you go, to lose the warmth he'd found in your touch. Together, you'd made the most of things - you remembered seeing a box of candles in one of the closets, a pack of matches tucked away between them all, and in no time at all, the living room was bathed in the flickering, golden glow of over a dozen flames. You sat atop the supple leather couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you watched Steve light the logs in the fireplace.

You were cold, your hands tucked against you, the tips of your toes already feeling numb - and from the way Steve rubbed at his arms, he'd felt it, too.

"Should we… uh…" You tried to ask, your own embarrassment shriveling your words before you could get them out, hands shaking as you tugged anxiously at your fingers. "I-I mean, it's cold, and the fireplace-"

You gave him an exasperated look, but Steve - bless his athletic soul - wasn't following.

You groaned, dragging your hands through your hair as you blurted out, "We should sleep here."

"On the floor?"

"Yes, Steven, on the floor." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his shock. "We can take a couple blankets and make a bed. It'll be warmer here than in the bedrooms."

Steve turned away from you, staring into the cackling fire. To you, he was considering what you'd said, his expression pensive, almost blank - to him, he was failing to quell his boiling panic at the thought of having to sleep with you… beside you? Whatever - either way, you would be much too close to him and he was not prepared. There were only so many rooms - and therefore only so many blankets - in the cabin, so he knew you wouldn't be able to make two separate beds.

He had to sleep with you.

"I-I mean, you're right…"

You gave him a confused look. "...But?"

Steve took a deep breath, turning back toward you, and he swore you could see the way his heart pounded in his throat. "No, nothing." He stood up, brushed off his jeans, tried for his best smile - which came through as more of a lopsided grin, but that's beside the point. "Let's get those blankets, huh?"

Between the two of you, you were proud of the bed you'd made, cozy under the pile of blankets and pillows; splitting for a minute, you both readied for bed, changing into your pajamas, brushing your teeth in the kitchen - Steve sensed your lingering unease at being in there, so he stood closer to you than he normally would, his hand finding the small of your back as the two of you walked back to the living room.

"Which side do you want?" You asked him, suddenly feeling shy at seeing him in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants and an old Hawkins Phys-Ed shirt - and, unbeknownst to you, your clothes were having the same effect on him, your oversized shirt reaching your knees like an old nightgown.

"Doesn't matter." He pulled at the drawstring of his pants, suddenly intent on looking everywhere but at you. "I'll sleep like a rock, anyway."

You snorted a laugh and crawled into your side of the bed. "Yeah, and you'll keep me up all night with your snoring."

"I do not snore!" Steve exclaimed, and you laughed even harder at him, obviously having touched a sore spot. "I don't!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Steve." He gave you a withering look, and you collapsed in a fit of giggles - nervous giggles, but he didn't need to know that. He shook his head at you as he crawled in under the blankets, close to you yet still keeping a respectable distance.

"Candles stay on?" He knew what your answer would be, but he asked anyway, his chest tight as you nodded.

"Unless it bothers you-"

"Doesn't bother me, sweetheart." He froze, his breath catching - he'd overstepped. Called you the wrong thing, gotten too comfortable. He waited for you to shake your head, to roll your eyes at him and turn around.

But, nothing came.

Steve watched, hands itching from the ferocity of his fraying nerves as you nodded, quieter than usual, curling up on your side as you continued to face him. He laid on his side, toward you, hands bunching the blanket up to his face as he tried to relax - not that he'd be getting much sleep around you, but he could pretend, for your sake.

Minutes pass, the soft sputtering of the candles a soft harmony to the loud, almost rhythmic cackling of the fireplace. Even in the muted light, you notice Steve trembling beneath the blankets.

He was cold.

"Steve?" you whispered, moving closer to him, the sudden drop in temperature making your stomach flip. "Steve, are you okay?"

"Hm…?" His eyes are slow to open, his voice much more tired than it had been mere moments ago; he'd curled up tighter - you just barely felt how his knees were tucked up to his chest. "What?"

"You're shivering." You continued to inch closer, your body all but touching his, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember how to move. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was fine before…" he grumbled, shaking his head, his jaw clenched to keep you from hearing his chattering teeth. "'M fine, just go back to sleep."

You gave him a hard-pressed look, gaze narrowed at the top of his lowered head; before you could convince yourself to do otherwise, you began to fumble about beneath the blankets. Steve cracked an eye open to watch, only to catch you flinging your shirt somewhere off to the side.

He swallowed audibly, his mind racing - and crashing - as he felt your arms envelope him, your chest pressed to his with only the thin barrier of his shirt between you.

"[Y/N], w-what are you-"

"Body heat." Your answer came quickly, much to his surprise, your hands leaving smoldering trails as you rubbed them over his back. "You need to stay warm, Steve."

He nodded, two thoughts about you dominating his mind:

You were much more selfless than you gave yourself credit for.

You weren't wearing much of anything under that shirt.

He tried to think of something to do, something to say, but the unfiltered heat radiating off of your skin was too enticing, too overwhelming. He tried getting closer to you, chasing your warmth, but something felt off; something was holding him back.

In a flash, he'd tossed his shirt aside, the aged fabric landing somewhere near yours.

"Steve-"

"Body heat, right?" God, he hoped he didn't sound too breathless. "We can keep each other warm."

You weren't about to fight that logic, were you?

He shuffled closer to you, arms settling loosely around your waist, the frigid feeling of his hands trailing over your bare skin sending a shiver through you. Between you, you'd moved your hands up - almost as a buffer, ridiculous as that seemed. But, now you were in a new predicament - your fingers wove through the matte of hair on his chest; you could feel each curl, each wisp as he breathed, your touch both featherlight and branding. His head fell to your shoulder, and his arms tightened over so slightly around you.

"How are you so hot…?" Steve asked; his head shot up, and you were given an excellent view of the blush spreading up his neck as he quickly amended, "Warm, I mean. Shit, I- You're really warm. N-Not that you're not hot-"

You giggled, the movement brushing your chest against his, pulling out a gasp from somewhere deep within him that he'd just barely managed to catch. "You're not half-bad yourself, Harrington." Feeling you relax, he tried to do the same, leaning further into you, the scent of your citrus shampoo lulling him into a pleasant sort of halfway-sleep.

"Uh… H-Hey, Steve…?" He could hear your voice, distant and somewhat muffled, and he grinned against the comfort of your shoulder. "Steve, are you awake?"

"Yeah…?" He peeled open his eyes, pulled away enough to look at you, confused for only a moment as he tried to follow the way your gaze flicked to the space between you - and when he did, he stopped breathing, his stomach dropping to his half-thawed toes as he sprang away from you, his scalding face clear in the candlelight, hands pressed tightly between his legs.

"Shit! I- Goddamnit, [Y/N], I didn't… I swear, I wasn't-"

You watched on, stunned silent as Steve worked himself into a whole-hearted frenzy, shaking as he desperately tried to explain away why he'd gotten hard sleeping with you.

"Was that… is it my fault?" You couldn't help yourself - here you were, sharing a bed with the man of your dreams, who'd gotten painfully aroused with you in his arms. Your words were barely above a whisper as you continued, "Are you like that because of me?"

Part of you wished you'd disappear, another thinking of what you had within arm's reach that could be used to tear your own tongue out because who in their right mind asks something like that? You stared at him, lip worried between your teeth, eyes catching the light like a million stars in the night; Steve realized he was at an impasse - you both were.

It was now or never.

"Yeah, I… I am."

Nothing could have prepared you for his answer; you felt as though the floor had collapsed beneath you, turned to quicksand and swallowed you into its grainy depths.

"Steve-"

"I like you, [Y/N]."

You couldn't help the gasp that tumbled past your lips, nor could you quell the sudden flood of tears swelling in your eyes. His words flew around in your head, dominated your thoughts, demanded every ounce of your attention.

I like you.

"[Y/N], don't… don't cry- Shit, I didn't…" He'd moved back to you the instant he'd caught the first tear, his arms wrapping back around you - he'd kept his hips turned away from you, the angle awkward, but you didn't notice. "C'mon, baby, I'm sorry-"

You shook your head, your breathing hiccupped, stuttered as you wiped at your dripping face. To his surprise, you'd laughed, the sound as wet and sodden as it was bubbling.

"Steve, I'm not… I'm not upset." You tried to tell him, reassure him, meeting his concerned gaze through glossy lashes.

"But, you're crying-"

You took his hand in both of yours, held it between your bodies like a tether between souls; he could feel your pulse through your palm, quick and solid and strong.

"[Y/N]-"

"I like you, too, Steve."

He barely believed what he'd heard - you liked him? You'd reciprocated his feelings? The crush he'd been achingly, lovingly nursing since high school was… mutual?

"Y-You… You do?" He hated how insecure he sounds, how hesitant and uncertain he was; you gave him another blinding smile, dropping your hands as you pressed your bare chest to his.

"I do." You thank the Heavens above that your voice hadn't wavered - he heard you clear as day, the fluttering he'd feel whenever he was near you now a full-on avalanche of jittery emotion. "I… uh… I have for a while now."

"Really?"

You nodded, hiding your face into a lump of bunched-up blanket.

"How long have you…?"

"You first." You insisted, your stomach in knots at his shy smile.

"Since freshman year, at least." Steve replied smoothly, his confidence returning in drips and splashes - it was better than nothing, he'd conceded. "Never thought you'd give me a chance, though."

"God, I've liked you since, like, fourth grade…" You'd groaned into the blanket, goosebumps running over your body as you caught his soft exhale.

"Seriously?" He couldn't believe it - you'd been hiding your feelings for him for almost a decade?

How had he not noticed?

You'd pulled your head up from the blanket pile just enough to look at him, and you both collapsed into a fit of nervous, giddy laughter, the little space left between your bodies shrinking away. Steve was the first to settle down, staring into the depths of your eyes with the look of a man drowning in his love; he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear as your legs tangled together, his rough and pleasantly scratchy against yours, and he waited for you to quiet down before asking,

"Is this alright?"

His hands were at your hips, his thumbs running over the thin elastic band of your underwear. So elated were you, you'd almost forgotten about his… situation.

Almost.

Calming yourself, you shifted, slowly pressed your body to his - your hips firm against him - as you nodded, cheeks pink as his rock-hard length throbbed against your stomach.

"[Y/N]?"

"Steve, I…" You couldn't bring yourself to ask for what you'd wanted - but, God, did you want to. Lord knows you did. Your head fell to his chest with a quiet groan of frustration, but he understood all the same.

"[Y/N], look at me."

You lost yourself in the endless depths of his eyes, your only thought to keep breathing as he reached for your hand.

"If you don't want to, tell me to stop."

He watched every flicker of emotion on your face, every expression, every feeling play out in vivid detail; he brought your hand - so small in his own - to the throbbing between his legs, his eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your fingers around him, holding him through the soft material of his sweatpants.

"God, Steve…" You whispered, giving him an experimental squeeze, your body sweltering with heat as he moaned - it was quiet, just barely louder than an exhale, but you'd heard it all the same.

You had done that to him, brought him to this, and you ached for more.

"Take it off." Your tongue poked out to swipe at your lips; he swallowed at the movement, every nerve in his body alight, aflame at the feeling of your hand around him. "Please."

He didn't need to be asked twice.

In a single movement, Steve pulled off his pants, chucking them somewhere across the room; you gasped as you realized he wasn't wearing anything underneath, naked as the day he was born.

You looked at him, he nodded, and your hand was on him again.

God, Steve thought, his head pressed to your shoulder, breathing heavy as you began to stroke him, it's never been this good before. All you'd done was touch him, and he could already feel himself begin to unravel, his stomach coiling with his building release.

You stared down between you in open-mouthed awe, feeling the weight of him in your hand; he actually keened when you'd brought your other hand to cup him, pushing his hips into your grip, chasing more of your touch - of you.

"B-Baby…" He barely recognized his own voice from how weak he sounded, his hand shaking as he wrapped it over yours, stilling your movements. "Baby, please, I… I can't-"

Your hands flew off of him, raised up to your chest, a pang of fear seizing your chest at the thought of having hurt him. Were you moving too fast, your grip too tight? "Steve, I-"

"No! No, sweetheart, it's… It's not you, I swear." He pulled you close, buried his nose in your hair, his voice quiet with embarrassment as he continued, "If you keep doing that, this'll all be over way too fast."

You giggled at him, your smile broad and beaming as he moved away to look at you, going stiff in more ways than one as you brought his hand to your chest; he could feel the thrumming of your pulse beneath the softness, keeping pace with his own.

What, like you hadn't heard about his boobies monologue from Robin?

You felt his fingers twitch against you, desperate to squeeze, but he held himself back, restrained himself.

"I won't break, y'know."

God, you were going to kill him, he swore, shaking his head, a nervous grin stretching across his lips - and it was then that he paused, his hand stilling over you as the shameful realization dawned upon him.

He hadn't even kissed you yet.

Where's your game, Harrington?

He'd gone shy on you again, you noted, feeling how his breathing turned slow and deep. "Steve?" You brought your face closer to his, hands at his jaw, thumbs caressing his cheeks as you urged him to look at you. "Steve, do you-"

"Can I kiss you?"

Your silence stretched out for what, to him, felt like hours. Had he pushed you too far, assumed too much? Was kissing too personal for you? His first instinct was to backtrack, to make amends, and he hurriedly mumbled, "I-I mean, it's fine if you don't-"

"Do it, Steve."

Your words were clear, demanding in a way that made him shiver in anticipation. Slowly, carefully, he trailed his hands over the softness of your waist, pulling you flush against him, his length trapped between your thighs.

"You want me to kiss you?" He needed to hear it from you, needed you to say it, to know you wanted this just as much as he did.

"Please."

Of all the times you'd imagined kissing Steve, of daydreaming about what he'd feel like, nothing could compare to the real thing; you melted against him with a sigh, arms settling around his neck as you pulled him impossibly closer, every pore on your body screaming for this moment to go on, for him to kiss you like this forever.

And for Steve, kissing you was a miracle - he'd long since resigned himself to wanting you from afar, to watching you from the sidelines, content with the way things were. He didn't think he'd ever gather enough courage to confess his feelings to you, terrified of losing one of the closest friends he's ever had. But, now?

Now that he's tasted you, he's insatiable.

He was the one to deepen the kiss, to lean into you, press his body against you, throbbing between your thighs and hissing as his sensitive head caught on the fabric of your underwear. You pulled his hands back to your chest, his tongue tracing over your lip as you pulled off the lacy thing and tossed it aside.

Your kiss had started saccharine, gentle, coy, but it had devolved into something carnal, primal, fueled on by years of pining and longing and want.

"[Y/N], can I…? Can- touch you?" Steve panted, his words beginning to fail him, his hair already damp with sweat as it fell over his eyes. You pull one of his hands away from your chest, biting back a moan at the feeling of his calloused palm dragging over your nipple; you guided him between your legs, your breathing labored, eyes clenched shut.

When he touched you, you screamed.

Painstakingly, sobbingly slowly, he worked you open, his pride growing tenfold as he felt how wet you were, how slick his fingers were quickly becoming as they moved over you - and all because of him. He brushed his fingers lightly over your clit, his touch barely a touch at all, yet it drove you nearly to the brink of insanity.

"S-Steve…!" you cried, screamed, no longer caring about the volume of your voice as you ground your hips against his hand, fingers clawing at his back. "Mmm…! Fuck, Steve…!"

"Talk to me, sweetheart. How's it feelin'?" The closeness of his voice, of his lips pressed to your ear did absolutely nothing to veer you away from the edge of ecstasy you were barreling toward. You could feel him circle a finger around your dripping entrance, teasing you, your body writhing atop the blankets.

"S… Steve, please…!" You shook in his arms, your face buried against his chest as you begged him for more - and when he finally pressed his finger into you, you both moaned.

You were so hot, so tight, around his finger, sucking him in, your velvety walls pulsing against him - he could feel his cock weep as he imagined what it'd feel like to be inside of you.

"Hmm…! A-Ah- Shit, Steve, I…!" Your head began to swim, your breathing rough as he worked you, one hand holding you by the hip while the other thrust into you, his thumb pressing down on your throbbing clit all the while.

"Where you at, baby?" he panted, his focus breaking away from the sinful squelching coming from between your parted legs.

"'M close, Steve… Fuck, I- I'm so close…!" You threw your head back, your body arching off the floor as Steve's kept his pace steady, looking very much satisfied with himself as you fell apart in his hands; with a final, trembling moan, you collapsed, panting for air as the sweet thrill of aftershocks shot through you; absentmindedly, you could feel him slide in behind you, holding you against his chest, hands moving idly over your sex-warmed skin.

Still, even in the rose-colored haze of your mind, you knew you wanted more.

"[Y/N]?" Steve watched as you turned around in his arms, pulling him into a sloppy, wet kiss. It didn't take much for him to turn to putty in your hands, and he offered no resistance as you nudged him onto his back, legs straddling his hips. "Fuck, baby, I…" he breathed, eyes wide as his gaze moved over you in reverence - bathed in the candlelight, flushed from the bliss he'd given you, he swore you never looked so beautiful.

You moved your dripping core over his cock hesitantly - unlike Steve, you had no prior experience to draw from. Did it feel good when you pressed down on him? When you sped up? Slowed down? You stared at where your bodies connected, not realizing Steve's eyes had clenched shut, sweat beading down his brow as he tried to keep himself from losing it.

"Sweetheart, please, I…" Steve moaned, his hands leaving you to drag through his hair. "You're killin' me-"

"Yeah?" you panted, pushing more of your weight down onto him, your heart soaring at the litany of curses that fell from his lips - and even a few that weren't in English. "How's it feel, pretty boy?"

At the name, you felt him jump against you, and you swore on your mother's life you'd never seen him flush so red.

It was as though the very room had gone still, the snow outside ceasing to fall, your breath catching as you lifted yourself off of him; holding him in your hand, you lined him up with your entrance, your eyes shut as you tried to calm your nerves, but you paused at the feeling of hands running over your sides, gentle and soft against you.

Steve looked up at you, cheeks bursting with color as he held you steady, an unspoken question clear in his eyes.

Do you want it?

You nodded, your lips breaking into a smile as you kissed him - and all at once, you pushed yourself down, crying out at the feeling of him stretching you, filling you.

He was big, and you were loath to admit that the rumors you'd heard about him all throughout high school were true - he deserved to be called "King Steve".

You fell against him, shaking at the sudden intrusion as his hands soothed over your back, your waist, your thighs, your face, guiding you down onto him, whispering praises into your ear.

"You're doin' so well, baby. You're so good to me, taking me like that… Fuck-!"

You were struggling to breathe, face pressed against the crook of his neck as you waited for the pain to melt away - and Steve waited with you, peppering your face in kisses, his hands smoothing over your hair.

"Do you want to stop?" he asked, his voice softer than silk, his concern washing away the lingering traces of your discomfort. You shook your head, biting your lip as you pulled away from him, wiping at the moisture clinging to the corners of your eyes.

Steve felt his stomach drop. "[Y/N]-"

"I'm okay." you reassured him, your voice all but gone, eyes fluttering shut as you settled back against his hips - he'd buried himself completely into you, the feeling of you enveloping him almost too much. He waited for you, for your sign that it was alright to move - because once he started, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop.

You accustomed yourself to the feeling of him inside of you, thick and hard and throbbing. "S-Steve…" you moaned, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. "You can… You can move-"

And you fell over when he snapped up into you, breaking out into fits of bright, sparkling laughter.

"[Y/N]!" Steve couldn't help but laugh, too, feeling your walls squeezing around him. "Baby, you alright?"

You nodded, still smiling as you threw your arms over your heated face.

"Keep going, Steve…" you sighed, peeking at him from between your fingers - and his heart swelled, leaning over to kiss you stupid as his hips pounded into you, one of his hands moving down to your clit, rubbing you in time with his thrusts.

He wasn't going to last - he knew he wasn't - but he'd be damned if you didn't finish before him.

Your mouth fell open with a wanton moan, hands fisting the blankets at your sides as he gripped your hips roughly enough to bruise, his pace already beginning to falter. He kissed you everywhere he could reach, covering you in his love, his breathing coming out in grunts as he felt himself nearing his end.

"Baby, I- I'm so fucking close-"

"Steve, I- Ahh…! I can't…! Steve, please, I'm…!"

And you reached your peaks together, screaming as you throbbed around him, as he painted you with his release, your bodies sticky as you collapsed onto the blankets, chests heaving for air as you floated back down from the Heavens.

He was the first to speak. "You still with me?" Steve asked, still winded as he rolled onto his side, his hand moving up to roll a lock of your hair between his fingers - you still smelled like citrus, like sunshine and light.

But now you smelled like him, too.

You turned your head to look at him, eyes lidded, your grin blissfully lopsided as you kissed him - gently, sweetly, relishing the feeling of his chapped lips, of the warmth of his breath over your face. "I'm still with you, Steve."

"Yeah?"

"Always."

He pulled you into his arms, his face pressed to your neck; you nudged yourself against him, exhaustion settling over you both like the falling snow.

Before you'd drifted away, you heard his voice, quiet and meek as he whispered, "I love you."

Your hands moved over his chest, and you kissed him one final time before falling into oblivion, your sigh of, "I love you, too." barely slipping past your parted lips, Steve chasing after you.

#becca.fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #stranger things smut #if any of you read my encanto fic you would know how disastrous my last attempt at writing smut was so i figured practice makes perfect #and i swear i'm still writing Ride the Lightning i just needed to get this off my chest #feedback appreciated <3 #also just imagine if you will robin and the gang arriving the next afternoon all aware of what likely went down #and when they find you two AWFULLY close they all know their little plan succeeded #the group has been trying to get the two of you together for years and figured this would be the best chance

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becca-alexa · 1 year

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Movie Magic

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're at Steve's for a movie date - what could go wrong?

Word Count: 1.7K

Content Warnings: fluff, fingering (f receiving), no use of [Y/N]

Author’s Note: bored and overwhelmed with school!and what better way to work off my stress than to keep writing this stuff? feedback and comments appreciated!💗💗

In any and every situation, Steve Harrington loved to touch you.

Steve had been starved for affection since his childhood, his parents oftentimes never present enough to give him the love he ached for, the love every child deserves to receive from their family; he’d taught himself to live without such things, believing that their behavior was the norm, and that it was those he considered to be overly-affectionate that were strange.

As a teenager budding into young adulthood, he’d finally discovered how wrong his family had been.

The first form of love he’d found was with Nancy - an eros love, however fleeting their relationship had been. He’d also learned of heartache, which made the love all the more powerful.

The second form, he’d found with Robin - philia, or ‘platonic with a capital “P”’, as she would so often tell everyone. It was a warm kind of love, a safe love, a nonjudgmental and welcoming love that he basked in whenever they were together.

The familial love - storge - he’d been searching for, he’d found in the kids - and in Eddie, of all people, although he’d be loath to admit it. Their friendships meant the world to him, and if it meant putting his own life on the line a second time to guarantee they’d all live to see tomorrow, then so be it.

And the fourth kind of love, pragma… Well, that he found in you.

Steve had been smitten with you since the first time you’d wandered into Family Video.

You’d walked up to the counter; Steve, sorting through stacks of cassettes underneath, sprang upright at the sound of your voice, his eyes wide at the sight of you - a new face, a breath of air in the occasional staleness that came with living in a small town. You smiled at him, and he smiled in return; to his surprise, you asked him for directions, still too new to Hawkins to know which way the local Piggly Wiggly was. Steve had done his best explaining things to you, and you had thanked him as you left, giving him a shy wave goodbye through the store window.

Robin nearly gagged at the way he’d melted after you’d left - and she’d teased him mercilessly for months about it.

About you.

You’d gone back the next day, this time actually in search of a video, Steve nearly leaping over the counter in his haste to get to you.

“Hi.” he breathed, his smile more lopsided than debonair, hair falling over his forehead.

“Hello again,” you replied, eyes clear and bright as you take a step closer to him, pointing at the rack of recent releases behind him. “Any recommendations?”

He explained every movie, every plot point, every surprise twist or frightening scare that might deter one from renting a film - and Robin, looking on, arms leaned over the counter as she pretended to flip through a catalog, swore she’d never seen Steve do so much work.

He pulled a few boxes from the shelf - his favorites, since you’d asked for suggestions. You stared at the boxes in his hands, lip caught between your teeth as you tried to decide which one to pick - and when your hands brushed his, he nearly jumped at the jolt of electricity that shot through him.

Judging from the look of bewilderment on your face, you’d felt it, too.

In any and every situation, Steve Harrington loved to touch you.

Whenever he saw you, he’d long for some sort of contact with you; with your frequent visits to the shop, it was only natural that you’d befriend them, and eventually you just started spending your free time with the pair. It began with a poke; Steve had leaned his hip against the counter, listening to your excited raving about Cyndi Lauper’s newest single, nodding every once so often. He stared at your hand, at your seafoam green nail polish, and he couldn’t help himself.

He poked your finger.

You didn’t miss a beat, your conversation continuing on as though nothing had happened. But, much to Steve’s delight, you’d poked him back.

And, from that point on, you were both inseparable.

Poking turned to tapping, which turned to grabbing, then holding. As the scalding summer days drawled on, your friendship with Steve deepened - perhaps a bit too quickly to some, but perfect for the two of you. One day, working alone at the store, he had sworn to move things forward - to take the risk, praying you wouldn’t turn tail and run.

He asked you out.

You said yes, much to his surprise - and unsurprisingly to everyone else.

As a friend, Steve Harrington was caring, kind, warm; his comforting aura was what had initially attracted you to him. But, as a boyfriend?

In any and every situation, Steve Harrington loved to touch you; to hold you, to brush his hand against yours, to press the softest of kisses onto your hair, your eyes, your cheeks, your lips.

But, you quickly learned that he especially loved to touch you.

Seated between his legs atop his couch, you leaned back against his chest, head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, the movie you’d picked out playing on the large television. You try to focus on the movie - God knows you try - but the feeling of Steve’s rough hands moving over your thighs dominates your mind, your thoughts. You sneak a look at him, only to find him actually watching the movie; his hands continue to move over you, squeezing your softness, fingers wandering beneath the hem of your skirt, moving higher… Higher…

“Steve?” Your voice is hoarse, your mouth dry, tongue sticky. “What are you-”

“Just watch the movie.” His voice is soft against your ear, low and rumbling in a way that vibrates through your chest. You nod, swallowing against the tightness in your throat as his touch burns trails over your skin.

You feel his fingers brush over your underwear, and he makes a quiet noise to get your attention.

“Can I?” Steve asks, fingers tugging at the elastic hugging your body; you nod, face aflame as you lift your hips, pulling off the offensive thing in a single motion. And, unsure of where to put it, Steve takes it from you, sliding the lacy things into his pocket - for later, he answers with a kiss to your cheek before turning you back to watch whatever scene was playing out on the screen.

You feel his hands roam over the inside of your legs, trailing close to your core. With a quiet gasp, your eyes flutter shut as you feel him drag a finger between your folds - up, down, up, down, stopping every few strokes to rub agonizingly slowly over your clit.

“S-Steve-”

“Keep watching.”

Your body thrums in anticipation, and you have no choice but to do as he says.

He continues on with his teasing - there’s no other way to describe what he’s doing - and you quickly feel yourself melting in his arms. As he kisses the shell of your ear, lips trailing over your flushed skin, his other hand moves to join the first, working in tandem to unravel you. You catch yourself grinding your hips up into his hands, and you barely catch a moan before it slips through your chapped lips.

He rolls your clit between his fingers, maddening, electrifying, while his other hand presses into you, his fingers coated in your essence. Soon enough, the quiet, wet sounds of his fingers working your pussy fill the room, a sinful backing track to the movie you were supposed to still be watching. Your head rolls back against his shoulder, your breathing heavy, eyes fluttering closed as waves of warmth crash over you.

“Eyes on the TV, sweetheart.”

He pumps his finger into you, adding another, and you hear the softest of groans from him at how you squeeze around him, pulling him further into you. The hand at your clit speeds up, slows down, stops altogether before picking up at a dizzying pace - and the feeling drives you nearly to the brink of insanity, the familiar tightness of your release already coiling in your stomach.

“You like this, don’t you?” Steve huffs against your ear, his own breathing labored as he works you toward your peak. “You like it when I touch you like this? When I get you soaking wet?”

You nod, your mind a haze of pleasure; you moan aloud as his fingers curl themselves inside of you - and you know you won’t last much longer.

“S-Steve, fuck…! I-I’m-” You cut yourself off with moan, one loud enough to be heard over the rising action of the film - rather, what you assumed to be the rising action.

Neither of you were paying attention, anyway.

You’re panting now, Steve’s name a prayer on your lips as your nails leave crescents in his arms, your eyes clenched shut as you feel yourself begin to come undone; the feeling of him everywhere is too much, too intense, and you let yourself fall into him.

“C’mon, baby, cum for me. Cum on my fingers.” You feel Steve lick a stripe up your neck, kissing you, his words burning themselves into your flushed skin. “I want to feel you - please, baby…”

You scream as the thread snaps, your body arching off his, his thick fingers buried deep inside of you, working you through the ecstasy. He presses kisses wherever he can reach, whispering praises into your ear; you can hear the smile in his voice, the pride he reserves only for you.

“So good to me, baby… So sweet…” Pulling his hand away, he makes quite the show of licking his fingers clean, your flushed face burning impossibly redder, the sight making him smile as he readjusts you against him. He pulls out your panties, offering them back to you - of course, he does so purely out of courtesy, already knowing you’d refuse them. You settle yourself, burying your head in the cozy warmth of his chest.

“Should I rewind the movie?” Steve asks, sounding almost sheepish as he reaches for the remote - and you laugh, taking the remote and tossing it aside before jumping to your feet, pulling him up with you as you lead him to his bedroom.

“I’ve got a better idea…”

#becca.fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x fem!reader #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #i am in a mood and now so are all of you #ahh yes the fluff to filth pipeline #i am tired and nothing good comes from me being tired #hope you enjoy 💗#please be gentle i didn't proofread this

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becca-alexa · 1 year

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Judge a Book

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're at Eddie's, catching up on some reading. What will happen between you two?

Word Count: 2.4K

Content Warnings: consensual touching, fingering (f receiving), general smut, no use of [Y/N]

Author's Note: it's my birthday and i can write smut if i want to (this can be read as a mirror to Movie Magic!)

Eddie lived for these quiet moments with you, ones where the two of you could be alone - apart from the group and the stress and chaos of your lives where you could just exist. Enjoy one another’s company, simply be with each other.

Eddie adored you - for longer than he could remember, longer than he should have, he’s been hopelessly in love with you. Longing, pining, aching with feelings he knows you’d never reciprocate. He’s resigned himself to being your friend - your best friend, and he’d cringe every time you’d refer to him as such. He was certain you’ve never even looked his way; the few boyfriends you’d had throughout high school only served to tear open the gaping hole in his chest that he desperately wanted to fill with you.

He held open the door to his bedroom, dropping into a bow and pulling a coveted giggle from you as you walked into the haphazard space, making yourself quite at home atop his bed - today, you’d both wanted a quiet moment to catch up on your reading, content with simply being in the presence of one other. You sat on the bed, back against the wall, and Eddie sat at his desk, his hardcover copy of The Return of the King already open atop his lap. Still, even though he’d wanted to focus on his book, he caught himself stealing glance after glance at you, biting back his smile as he watched the emotions flicker across your face - you were always so expressive when you read, he’d noticed, and sometimes he’d often just watch you instead of reading himself. You were always too engrossed in your book to notice the heartfelt, sappy looks he was giving you.

But, completely unbeknownst to Eddie, you’d been in love with him for nearly as long as he’s held feelings for you. You couldn’t seem to get the metalhead out of your mind - the fact that he was your closest friend did nothing to help quell your mounting feelings for him. The boyfriends you’d had - two, and you’d found them both lacking when compared to him - were only a distraction, as you were positive he’d never want you. Eddie could have his pick of the girls in Hawkins - why would he want you? It wasn’t just a rumor that every girl wanted Eddie - or, at the very least, wanted to be with him - and you just felt like you… couldn’t compare. You were happy to have him as your friend, to be able to stand by his side through whatever came your way. You were - or, rather, you’d convinced yourself as such.

Eddie’s eyes happened to look at you again, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched your eyes dart back and forth across the dog-eared page, your legs shifting from where you’d tucked them underneath you. But, as though you’d wanted to topple him, to render him stupid, you’d bit your lip.

You’d bit your lip.

What were you reading? Eddie couldn’t stop looking at you. You moved, stretching your endless legs out in front of you, crossing them at the ankles. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at you. You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, your eyes wide as you flipped the page. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at you.

God, the sight of you - flushed the slightest of pinks, cherry-glossed lip caught between your pearly whites - was going to tide him over for weeks, in the moments he’d be alone with but his hands for company. His eyes trailed over you, his breath catching, hitching as you slowly brought your legs up, pressing them close to your chest as you balanced your book against your knees. It took him longer than he’d willingly admit to gather his thoughts enough to blink, and even then, all he could do was stare at you - specifically, at the soft-looking pair of panties tucked between your thighs.

Had you forgotten you were wearing a skirt?

He shifts himself atop his chair, eyes never leaving you as he burns the sight of you into his mind, commits it to memory - and you keep on reading, smiling at whatever passage you’d read, your thighs squeezing together-

Eddie nearly fell off his chair.

You were squeezing your thighs together, your mouth falling open ever so slightly, eyes lidded as you turned another page. You shifted atop his blanket, and he swore to the gods above he heard you moan.

“What’re you reading, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, praying you wouldn’t notice how strained his voice was, how he was pressing his book atop his lap to hide his blooming erection at the sight of you squeezing your fucking thighs together-

“W-What?” you stammer, face flushed as you look at him from over your knees, your voice a bit breathless; he picks up in an instant how nervous you sound.

“That book any good?” he asks.

“Oh, this?” You wave the book around - Eddie only sees the back cover, all deep rouge and white text. He doesn’t have a clue what you’re reading. “‘S just something I found at Melvald’s.”

Eddie nods, and you smile at him, eyes lowering as you flip your book back open, sinking a bit into his mattress, the shift pushing your hips further out; Eddie feels a bead of sweat trickle over his brow, his heart stopping as he sees the wet spot forming on your panties.

God, he wanted you so badly, he could cry.

You bite your lip again, your breathing coming out in soft, gentle pants as your fingers twitch over the book's cover, your thighs pressing even closer - harder, tighter - together.

Eddie’s losing his mind.

Before he can think to stop himself - to figure out a plan - he sits beside you on the bed, the sudden depression spooking you out of your focus. He leans against you, shoulder to shoulder, hands resting over his soft stomach as his eyes gloss over the page. “Mind if I read along?” he asks, giving you the biggest doe eyes you’ve ever seen - and you’re a goner.

“It’s not like what you usually read…” you warn, all while bringing the book between your bodies, holding it open for him.

“What? I’ll diversify.” he replies easily, head resting against your as the two of you pick up where you’d left off.

Working through the lines of text, Eddie feels himself flush with heat, a scalding redness settling itself atop his chest, over his neck, across his face - what the Hell were you reading? He clears his throat, adjusts himself against you, licks the dryness from his lips as he’s subject to how the main lead is having his depraved way with the innocent damsel, every salacious moment written out in graphic detail - and you’d found this book at Melvald’s? The longer he’s beside you, the more he can’t resist looking at you; out of the corner of his eye, he catches you biting your lip again, your eyebrow quirking upward, your thighs rubbing together.

He starts reading aloud, picking up from a random sentence and working through the paragraph; his tone is slow and steady, deep and even, and he doesn’t realize you’ve all but stopped breathing until he’s finished and he’s calling your name, only to find you blushing to the roots of your hair.

“Sweetheart?”

You shake your head, tearing yourself back to the present. You let out a huff of a laugh, your hands trembling slightly as you melt into his side. “Sorry, I… I zoned out for a second, I guess.”

“I noticed.” Eddie replied, nudging you with his shoulder, his hands moving to grab the book from you. “This thing’s… different, for sure.”

“Could you keep reading? O-Out loud?”

Your words, hurried and jumbled together, made his stomach drop - his hands went cold and clammy, his face paling, draining of color as he looked at you, your eyes staring back into his equally as mortified at what just came out of your mouth. You were about to backtrack when Eddie nodded, a hand coming up to run through his unkempt hair.

“You like my narration skills, princess?”

You can’t help but shiver - you’ve always loved when he calls you that.

You nod, and he starts moving over the bed, getting himself more comfortable; with less urging than you’d care to think about, you’d let him reposition you, moving your pliant body between his legs, his knees braced on either side of you as you leaned back against his chest. Your head was tucked against his shoulder, your breath warm and fanning over his neck as his arms encircled you, the book still tightly held in his hand.

“Comfy?” Eddie asked, smiling at the way you nodded; he could feel your tenseness begin to ebb away as he resumed his reading aloud, his unoccupied hand absentmindedly running over your arm, making you shiver pleasantly under his touch. You can feel the vibrations of his voice through his chest, the sound low and rumbling - all of it going straight to your aching core. As you melt against him, Eddie starts losing himself in the lurid book; his voice would have lulled you to sleep, had it not made you so desperately horny.

You feel his hand move down your arm, sliding over your thigh, his touch scalding as he traces circles over where your skirt had ridden up - and you know he doesn’t miss the slight way you open your legs.

Eddie stops reading, his voice tight, strained. “Sweetheart?”

“Keep… Keep reading, Eds.” you tell him, your eyes fluttering shut as he moves his hand closer to your throbbing pussy, his touch featherlight as he brushes over your aching clit, nails scratching over the fabric of your damp panties.

He stops again - and it makes you want to scream.

“You don’t want me to stop?” You hear the hesitation in his voice, the trepidation, the uncertainty that he’s crossed a line you’d not wanted him to. Your heart swells at the way he’s caring for you - even now, with his hand between your legs. You’re quiet for a moment, your answer found in the way you move your hand atop his, pressing him more firmly against you.

“Keep reading.”

As he reads, his lips press against your ear, his words almost whispered - moaned - as he works his way through the filthy book. You let out a whine of frustration as he rubs circles over you, the friction from your underwear more annoying, if anything - you wanted to feel him, no barriers. At the kiss you plant against the vein pulsing in his neck, he fumbles an entire sentence, his words stuttered, cheeks bursting a vivid red. He looks down at you, at the blown-out look in your eyes, and he smiles - and his hand slides beneath the elastic of your underwear.

“You still with me, sweets?” he asks you, lips nibbling at your ear as your head rolls against his shoulder, a moan caught between your pressed lips as he works your dripping pussy, the calluses of his hands heavenly as he continues to rub at your clit. You nod, trying desperately to keep from bucking up into his hand.

He keeps reading.

It takes you a moment to notice, but once you do, a wild heat washes over you at the feeling of his cock pressed against your back - you can feel it throbbing against the zipper of his jeans, solid and hard. He’s moving his hips against you; small thrusts, just enough to tide him over as he focuses on you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me…” he groans, feeling the way your slick runs over his fingers - and he swears he’s at the end of his rope. Your body writhes against him, the book falling from his hand as he joins it with the first - one, working your aching clit, and the other sliding two fingers into your dripping center. He groans at the feeling of you around him, of how tight you are - so wet, just for him.

Only for him.

As his fingers speed up, your inhibitions disappear, and you fall back against him, hands coming up to tangle in his hair; you pull hard, and his rutting hips falter against you, his mouth falling open with a silent moan of agony - neither of you can take much more of this.

He buries his face against your shoulder, his focus solely on you, at how you’re so close, coming apart in his hands, under his touch.

“E-Eddie… Fuck, Eds, I-” Your eyes clench shut, your legs shaking as your feel yourself reaching your end, your vision going hazy, stars shooting behind your eyes. “Eddie…!” you cry, and you fall back against him with a moan loud enough to be heard from outside of his trailer, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rocking through you as his hands work to bring you back down from your high - and Eddie comes apart just after you, teeth sinking into your bare skin as he muffles his screams against you, hips pressing against you as he rides out the hardest orgasm he’s had in years.

As you both calm yourselves down, you feel him slump against you, head dropping, his hair a curtain over your shoulder.

“Baby, please let me take you out.” he begs, voice quiet. “I can’t take this anymore.”

“Take what?” you ask, your heart beating as you pray he means what you think he does.

“This.” He pulls away from you, his hand gesturing between the two of you. “You. Being friends. I love you, but this is getting way too hard-”

Your eyes go wide, mouth falling open. “You… love me?”

Eddie pauses; he hadn’t even realized he’d said that. He shakes his head, laughing at himself, dragging a hand through his hair as he looks at you - into you - and says, “Yeah, I-I’ve been in love with you for years. I can’t… I can’t just be friends anymore.” His head drops to his chest, lip catching between his teeth. “Please.”

You swear your heart’s soaring as you take his face into your hands, leaning over the gap he’d put between you as you capture his lips with your own, giggling at how he’s frozen in shock at the feeling of you kissing him. And, when you finally pull away, your eyes are swimming - happy tears, leaving rivers down your flushed face, dripping onto his blanket.

“I don’t want to just be friends, either.”

His smile beams as he pulls you into his arms, pressing kisses all over your face, catching your laugh as he buries his face in your hair - and at your quiet “I love you, too.”, he falls back onto the bed, taking you with him, burying himself in you as he showers you in all the love he’s kept hidden away in his heart all these years.

#becca.fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #please be gentle i didn't proofread this #happy birthday to me

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becca-alexa · 1 year

Text

Red Tides

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're on your period and Eddie goes to see you.

Word Count: 792

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author’s Note: I feel like garbage right now and I've never written like this before. I just need something short and fluffy to keep me from crying. <3

Your bedroom is dark, the curtains drawn. You lie in darkness, arms wrapped around your middle, your body cringing in pain as another wave of painful cramping overwhelms you. You were alone in the house - you preferred it that way, whenever you were on your period, not wanting to be bothered when you were struggling to even breathe, let alone walk and respond to coherent conversation.

You groaned, buried your face into the plushness of your pillow, every nerve in your body aflame; your head ached, your lower backed throbbed, and your abdomen clenched for what felt like the millionth time, sending tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Your painkillers had worn off ages ago, your hot water bottle long since cooled, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave your bed. As another contraction swept over you, paralyzing, unbearable, you tried to keep breathing, keep focused on controlling the discomfort.

"[Y/N]?"

Your clenched eyes relaxed, peeled open as you looked at your closed door; you recognized the voice in an instant, but you were too weak to answer in anything louder than a whisper.

"I'm in here…" you called out, arms shaking as you tried to push yourself up, lips tight, teeth grinding against the pain.

"There's my favorite girl." It was Eddie - when wasn't it him? He walked into your room, a lazy smile on his face, sneakers dangling from his hands to keep from tracking mud through your carpet. He did this often - visiting you - and even more so since you'd shown him where your family kept the hidden spare key. He walked up to the side of your bed, frowning as he took your hand, his thumb gentle as it ran circles over your palm. "How you feeling, princess?"

"Hurts, Eds…" you mumble, groaning as another cramp seized through you, a tear breaking through your lashes and running across your flushed face - the first day of your period was always the most excruciating. You try to turn toward him, but a hand at your shoulder stop you, and you can't help but smile as he makes his way around your bed so that you don't have to move.

"What can I get you? Meds? Heating pad?" he asks, already looking for ways to help you. He really did treat you like a princess. You shuffled beneath your blanket and held out the rubber bottle to him; he took it with a nod, adding, "Anything else?"

"There's some Advil on the counter." you say, eyes growing heavy as you speak. "T-Two pills…"

Eddie leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice quiet as he answers, "As you wish." before leaving the room.

You wait for him to return, trying to keep from writhing as the pain continues to worsen. You're nearly in tears by the time he gets back, and he rushes to your bedside. "Here, this'll help." he says, handing you the bottle, and you can't help but sigh as the heat radiates against your skin, soothing away the pain. He hands you two tiny pills, which you chase down with the glass of water he'd brought you.

"Better?" he asks, sitting against the bed's edge, his hand carding through your hair. You nod, leaning - melting - into his touch.

"I didn't see you at school, and Nancy said you weren't feeling so hot." he said, nails scratching over your scalp, and he smiled as you pushed yourself into his hands. "Why didn't you call me? I would have skipped to stay with you."

"Attendance." you croak, shaking your head. "Can't graduate with bad attendance."

Eddie rolls his eyes - how could you be thinking of him now, of all times?

"You're somethin' else, you know that?"

"So are you." you say, turning your face into his hand and pressing a kiss onto his calloused palm. "'S why I love you."

You wish you could have taken a picture of Eddie, wanting to capture forever how he beamed at your words, cheeks flushing pink, his smile radiant.

"Love you more, sweetheart." he said in return, his voice dripping in sincerity. He pulled away for only a moment, walking outside of your line of sight, and you listened to the sound of fabric rustling. Nearly compelled to turn around, you felt the mattress depress behind you, and the familiar feeling of two arms wrapping themselves around you, of hands careful to avoid touching your sensitive stomach.

"This alright?" he asks, his face buried against your shoulder, his front to your back.

"Always." you reply, letting out a sigh as you finally feel the tension of the day seep out of you, and you fall asleep in the arms of the man you can't help but love.

#becca.fic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie x reader #i have no idea how this sounds #i just wanted to write something to distract myself #bon petite #didn't proofread but i think it should be fine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader

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becca-alexa · 9 months

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Ride the Lightning

Chapter Twelve: Starry Eyes

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Will an average trip to the mall turn into something more?

Word Count: 3.8K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: god please forgive me for this taking so long the last update was in may?????? i have been so dead from actually having to do work at my job i am becoming a business bitch and let me tell you nobody told me it took so much work but anyway here you go 💗💗💗💗💗

and as always THANK YOU BESTIE @hellflayer for sticking with me through this 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Lucas wrapped an arm around himself, the other holding the plasticine phone receiver close to his ear, the smile he gave to Eddie from across the street strained and painfully forced; he counted the rings – one, two, three – as he gnawed at his lip to the point of drawing blood, all as he waited for Max to pick up the phone. He couldn’t help the twinge of nervousness that coursed up his spine, chilled his hands; he couldn’t help the guilt he felt as he’d emerged from the Palace Arcade alone, hands stuffed into the pockets of his worn Levi’s jeans, head hung low in embarrassment he’d even gone so far as to jog around the back of the building, checking to see if perhaps he’d find the redhead trying out a new trick on her skateboard, or even trading cards with some of the other kids. But, alas, as the phone continued to ring, he’d long since conceded defeat.

“Hello?” Max’s voice buzzed through the speaker. “Max speaking. Who’s this?”

Lucas scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s Lucas. You said you’d be at the arcade! Where the Hell are you?” He asked, giving Eddie yet another smile and a nod, signaling that everything was alright.

“I’m home, Lucas.” Max said simply; he could hear her moving around. Was someone with her? “I told you I’d be going to the arcade in the morning, and that I’d be home by noon.” As she spoke, Lucas let out a loud groan - she had said that, he’d simply forgotten.

“Whatever. Are we still good to go to the mall?” Lucas asked, his leg beginning to bounce.

“You’re with Eddie?”

“He’s waiting in the van. I’m using a payphone.”

“Yeah, but ask him if-“

Lucas hung up the call as soon as he’d heard her affirmative response, nearly causing an accident as he bolted across the street, pulling himself into the passenger seat of the metalhead’s rusted van with nothing – less than nothing – to show for his efforts. He was quiet as he pulled on his seatbelt, the vehicle slowly pulling back onto the main road.

“She’s back home, isn’t she?” Eddie asked quietly, his voice gentle – and, yet, Lucas couldn’t help his swarming embarrassment.

“Yeah, I... I’m sorry, man.” he began, throat tight, hands clasped tightly atop his lap, the sound of asphalt crushing beneath rubber tires filling the silence between them, the low hum of the motor a gentle purr compared to the loud screech of Eddie’s music. “I could’ve sworn she told me she’d be here...”

Eddie shook his head; wild, unkempt curls bouncing about his shoulders. His smile was easy, unbothered, his eyes warm as he spared the kid a look, the van rolling to a stop at a red light. “Don’t sweat it, dude. It happens.” He took a turn onto one of the residential streets, the entrance to the trailer park nearly in sight. “I needed to go back, anyway. Forgot my wallet.”

“You sure? I mean, you don’t have to take us-“

“Lucas, it’s fine, seriously.” Eddie drove through the familiar entrance to Forest Hills, bringing the van to a stop in front of Max’s trailer, leaving the motor running as he trotted over to his own abode. “Be back in a sec!” he shouted back, digging into his pocket for his keys as he disappeared beyond the worn, metal door, only to appear moments later with a leather wallet in hand. In truth, the wallet had simply been an excuse to keep Lucas from feeling any worse than he already did for having led him on a wild goose chase – bless his charred, cynical heart.

He all but tore open the van door, the thing creaking and groaning under the sudden strain as he pulled himself inside – but, as he settled into his seat, pulling his seatbelt on and looking to the passenger seat, it felt as though he’d sent himself crashing into a wall, his body stopping mid-motion, hands leaded, face burning red at the sight of Veronica seated beside him; Lucas and Max were huddled together in the back seat, whispering something between them that made them laugh. He blinked once, twice, swallowing against the sudden tightness gripping his throat as he gave her a rather lopsided smile. “H-Hey.”

“Hi, Eddie.” Veronica replied softly, her smile just as meek as his, her cheeks dusted with the softest of pinks, her verdant gaze brilliant as she stared at him. His eyes moved over her, noting in an instant the way her hair fell about her shoulders, soft and impossibly silky, tied behind her neck with a thin, red ribbon – he hadn’t seen it down like that since The Fling, and as memories of that fateful night bled into his subconscious, it only served to make his blush all the more intense.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Max asked abruptly, hanging in the space between the two front seats as she turned herself toward Eddie, her hands braced to keep her from falling forward. “Veronica was already at my place when Lucas called.”

“No, it’s... it’s fine.” Eddie recovered quickly, coughing a bit to hide his nervousness, flexing his hands to quell their telltale trembling as he wrapped them around the steering wheel. “That alright with you, sweetheart?”

Veronica nodded, hair flowing over her shoulders – and, had Eddie been paying closer attention to her, he’d have noticed the way her smile brightened at the name, her blush deepening nearly to a cherry-red. “Y-Yeah, I’m good.”

In a single, fluid motion, Eddie tugged on the gear shift and pealed out of the trailer park. “Alright, kiddos – our destiny awaits!”

Walking beneath the burning heat of fluorescent lights in every possible hue, Eddie swore it’d felt as though he’d been dropped into a flowing, moving current of people – at any given moment, Starcourt Mall was always busting with activity, shops and neon signage spreading as far as the eye could see. Cloyingly sweet pop music played over the place’s overhead speakers, doing little to drown out the roaring of voices all around them – and it took him a moment to center himself.

Yet, it was a moment too long. “So, where to first-?” he’d begun to say, only to watch as Lucas and Max ran off into the droves, hand in hand as one of them turned and shouted something at him he’d just barely managed to grasp – We’ll meet up with you later! Eddie let out a heavy sigh, pulling his hand through his hair as he turned, taking in a sharp breath as he suddenly realized he’d been left alone with Veronica – and in a venue he knew to be a popular spot among couples, no less. He felt his pulse quicken, his hands shaking, sweat beading along his brow. Would she want to stay with him? Would she want to walk off on her own? Follow behind the kids? He tried to find his words, certain his face was nearly as red as the ribbon in her hair as he asked, “D-Do you... uh... Is there something you want to do?”

But, Veronica shook her head, hands clasped tightly behind her back as she took a stumbled half-step toward him, someone having brushed her by mistake in their haste to get by. “I don’t really have anything in particular...” she told him, biting at her strawberry-colored lip, lost in thought – and Eddie couldn’t help but follow the movement raptly, nearly losing focus on what she was saying. God, he’d never wished to be lip gloss before, but there certainly was a first time for everything… “Maybe we can just... walk around?” Veronica asked, pulling Eddie from his revelry. “There’s got to be something cool here, right?”

Eddie smiled at her response, settling a hand at the small of her back as he led her away from the main entrance. “Sounds good to me, princess.” His answer was easy, calm – betraying nothing of the way his stomach was in acrobatics, or the way his heart was beating with so much force, he was almost certain she could see it through his shirt. “Let’s go?”

He’d offered her his arm purely in chivalry, thinking it’d be the right thing to do; he’d also didn’t want to lose her through the crowds, so the gesture had made sense in his mind – never in his wildest dreams had he expected her to actually take it, her hand tucking into the warm crook of his elbow. And, unless he was truly fooling himself, he could feel the way she pulled herself closer to him – close enough that he could smell the soft, flowery scent of her perfume. Her body leaned against his, her grip on him tightening ever so slightly as they began to walk.

Linked together, they passed store upon store selling clothing, sports equipment, home décor; Starcourt had anything and everything imaginable, much to their surprise – yet, after nearly an hour of seemingly endless window shopping and half-hearted browsing, they had yet to find a store they actually wanted to go into.

Eddie stood a step behind Veronica, peering over her shoulder as she scanned the mall’s extensive directory, his own gaze trailing over the map in hopes of finding... something. Anything at all; just a single interesting place to go into. “Eddie...!” Veronica exclaimed, turning around sharply – and she found herself pressed chest to chest with him, close enough that she could feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, the thrum of his pulse through his shirt. It took her a moment to remember what she’d wanted to say, so lost in the feeling of him against her. “They... They just opened a record store on the third floor – want to check it out...?” she finally managed to ask, a bit befuddled as to why her throat had gone dry, her hands running cold as she clenched the behind her. What was happening to her...?

Through her inner turmoil, Eddie leaned in close, his smile bright and beaming as he said, “Now you’re speakin’ my language, sweetheart!” With a laugh, he took her hand tightly in his as he all but dragged her to the nearest escalator, practically bouncing with excitement as they made their way to the shop.

He hadn’t realized he’d laced their fingers together, and the thought to tell him never once crossed her mind.

Once they’d found the store, they were floored to find it stacked wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling with absolutely everything – not just with music, but with instruments, recording equipment, memorabilia; it was as though they’d entered Eddie’s personal Nirvana, and Veronica couldn’t help but smile as she watched him dig through alphabetized stacks of records and tapes – a literal kid in a candy store.

She, on the other hand, kept her pace leisurely – it wasn’t as though she wasn’t a fan of vinyl or tape collecting, but she was certainly nowhere near Eddie’s level of apparent fanaticism. He poured over the Rock and Heavy Metal sections as though he were searching for gold, and she quickly realized that she was watching him more than she was browsing the store’s wares, her heart doing this curious little patter every time he found something that made his eyes sparkle in just the right way. Were she being honest with herself, he was infinitely more interesting, anyways. She never wandered too far from him, always keeping him within her line of sight, smiling to herself as something... fuzzy began to bleed through her chest, and the feeling itself was enough to tint her face the softest whisper of pink.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted him walking up to the register, a bright red vinyl sleeve tucked tightly to his chest; he bounced atop the balls of his feet as he waited in line, an unrivaled smile on his face as he made it to the front of the line. But, as he handed the cashier the sleeve, the two exchanging a few words, his face fell into a frown; he shook his head and said something she couldn’t make out as he left the line, the vinyl forgotten as he moved to another part of the store. With her curiosity besting her, she walked up to the register, and spotted the sleeve sitting on a shelf just out of reach.

“Hi... uh... Why didn’t that guy buy that?” Veronica asked, pointing to the shelf behind the cashier.

“Didn’t have enough money.” The man replied plainly, sorting through his things behind the counter. “The sale we have going on right now doesn’t apply to this.”

She nodded, sparing a look back at Eddie, her chest tight. Should she...? “Can... Can I buy it?” she asked before she could think to do otherwise, a gentle smile growing on her face as she cashier rung her up for her purchase, sliding the vinyl into a plastic shopping bag before passing it to her; thanking him, she made her way back to the front of the store, Eddie already standing there, waiting for her. He gave her as best a smile as he could, yet Veronica could still see the disappointment behind his eyes as they made their way through the mall’s carpeted corridors once more.

Distracted as he was, it took him a moment to notice the bag hanging from her hand. “You found something you liked, sweetheart?” he asked her, nodding toward it.

Again, her heart pattered. Pittered, even.

She smiled at him, her eyes bright, nearly sparkling. “You could say that.”

“What d’you mean-“ Eddie couldn’t help but ask, only to be abruptly cut off as she shoved the bag into his chest, the plastic crinkling against him.

“I bought it for you.” Had she said anything else, Eddie didn’t think he’d be as surprised. For him? How could she buy something for him...?

“For... For me...?” His face burst red, heart pounding, his spirits lifting to the highest of heights as he turned to look at her, a hesitant sort of smile stretching across his face. “Sweetheart, you... you didn’t have to...” He peered into the bag, anticipation mounting – and his mouth fell open as he realized what she’d purchased; he tried to hand the bag back to her. “Veronica, no, I... I can’t-“

“Why not?”

He floundered; it took him a moment to work through his whirlwind of thoughts. “T-This was expensive...”

“So what?” She countered, shaking her head, trying to pass the handle of the bag back into his hand.

“B-But-“ He’d pulled his hand away, holding it to his chest in a closed fist.

Veronica let out a quiet sigh as she reached over and took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together, squeezing it gently as their gazes met. “Eds, think of this as a reward for... for doing really well at school.” As she spoke, he visibly began to relax, the tips of his ears red as his fingers flexed around hers, warmth to warmth, palm to palm; his shoulders fell, chest deflating with an exhale he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “You deserve it.”

“Y-Yeah..?” Eddie asked, chancing a look down at the bag pressed between them. “You... You really think I do?”

“I know you do.” Veronica’s voice had dropped nearly to a whisper – and, just for a moment, the world around them seemed to melt away, the sounds and sights of the bustling mall pooling at their feet like rain puddles as their hearts began to beat in sync.

A loud sound pulled them to reality, and they both looked away with matching smiles, faces red; Veronica looped her arm back through his, her touch soft as they continued walking, perhaps just a bit closer than before.

“Nope.”

“Come on, Eddie... Pretty please?”

Eddie shook his head, standing his ground against her. “Sweetheart, I’m not trying that on.”

The pair stood in front of the main showcase for a tuxedo rental store – one of the newer additions to the already-bustling mall. The mannequin displayed was sporting the latest in men’s evening wear, the sharp cut and slim fit of the suit having caught Veronica’s eye as they’d been walking by. It was a nice suit – a very nice suit; coupled with the color pairing of red and black, it’d been a no-brainer for her to ask Eddie to try it on.

She hadn’t expected him to refuse so vehemently.

The least he could do was humor her, couldn’t he?

“Why won’t you try it on?” Veronica asked, crossing her arms atop her chest, her gaze narrowing, hands set atop her hips as she gave him as best a withering look as she could – and the sight made him almost nostalgic, in a way. Eddie shook his head, his growing smile only fueling her annoyance.

“I’ll look ridiculous.” He insisted, shaking his head; he motioned between himself and the mannequin posed behind the glass window, as though proving his point – he was certain he’d look like a fool.

Veronica rolled her eyes at him. “Who says?”

“I say, that’s who!” Eddie countered, his voice rising ever so slightly.

Veronica refused to back down, her hand darting to grab his before he could even realize what was happening – and, by the time he’d managed to blink, she was dragging him into the store. “Well, I say you’ll look nice!” She exclaimed, turning around to watch as his sneakered feet left trails through the plush carpeting underfoot. Finding the nearest fitting room, she all but shoved him through the curtain divider, and returned in a moment with a suit in a size that would fit him. “Edward, just try it on!”

Eddie grumbled and groaned as he slipped off his clothes, his heavy belt buckle falling to the ground with an audible thud as he changed outfits; Veronica sat just outside, flipping through a store magazine as she awaited his emergence – like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon, so to speak.

After a few minutes, the curtain was pulled aside – and, out walked Eddie, in what he swore was the most expensive thing he’d ever tried on. “See?” He asked her, his hand making a sweeping motion down his body. “I told you I’d look dumb.”

“You don’t look dumb, it’s just...” said Veronica, rising from her seat and moving to his front, her hands tugging the red dress shirt out from where he’d had it tucked into his pants. “You missed a button, that’s all...” As though she’d done this a hundred times before, her hands worked with practiced ease as she fixed his shirt, working from the bottom and moving her way up, her touch warm as she smoothed her hands over his chest, adjusted the shirt around him. And, reaching up, she flipped over the collar of his shirt and fixed the knot in his necktie, smoothing it back down, her hands gently moving the fabric into its proper place. “See? You look much better.”

Eddie couldn’t help the way his face burned, his heart pounding in his chest, his head. He stared down at her, losing himself in her verdant eyes, his hands moving on their own accord as they laid over hers, holding them to his chest. Leaning in closer to her, his hair fell around them, a canopy pulling them closer together, shielding them from the world; his voice felt almost foreign to him as he whispered, “I could’ve done that myself, princess.”

Having him so close, his breath fanning her face, his nose just brushing hers... The pattering in Veronica’s heart now pounded like the loudest of drums, keeping perfect time to the pulse she could feel beneath her palms, strong and solid, Eddie’s hold on her tightening. She couldn’t help but gasp as she felt his thumbs sliding over the tops of her hands, caressing her, drawing her even closer to him – if that were even possible. Standing chest to chest with him, only one thought blared through Veronica’s mind with an urgency that frightened her, her mouth going dry, her lips parting ever so slightly.

“God, I wish he’d just kiss me.”

She hadn’t the time to blink before two familiar voices rang out from somewhere down the corridor outside of the store. “I found them!” Lucas called out, the thundering of footsteps following his words. As though they’d been scalded, Eddie and Veronica flew apart before either youngling came into sight, with Eddie fleeing into the fitting room before either of them could see the vivid blush painting his face.

“What are you doing in here?” Max asked, following behind Lucas as the pair entered the store.

Veronica pointed to the fitting room. “Eddie was... He was trying some things on.” The waver in her voice gave Max pause, her attention splitting between her and the rustling curtain at her side.

On the ride home, the group sat in order of drop-off – Lucas and Veronica were in the back, and Max took the passenger seat, with Eddie manning the helm; Lucas was the first to leave, thanking Eddie to high Heaven for having taken them to the mall. Eddie saw him off with a smile, waiting until he’d gotten inside before driving away.

Veronica was next; Eddie had parked in front of her house, waving her off just as he’d did Lucas, waiting for a while before leaving – but Max could tell that something was different. From the way he’d said his goodbyes, to the melting look he’d given her, to the way he’d lingered at her house just a moment too long, she knew that something was... wrong? No, not wrong – happening.

Something was happening – and whatever it was, it involved Eddie and Veronica.

“What’s in the bag?” Max asked, pointing to the plastic bag Eddie had insisted on keeping atop his lap – for safekeeping, he’d told them, the plastic crinkling every time he moved his legs.

“A gift.” He replied, his smile almost shy, the faintest of pinks gracing his cheeks – which, of course, Max didn’t fail to notice.

“You bought yourself a gift?” She sounded almost disbelieving.

Eddie shook his head. “No, I-“

“So... Veronica bought you a gift?” Max continued, quickly having put the pieces together – the pair were alone the entire trip, so if Eddie didn’t buy it…

The metalhead’s blush deepened, spreading all the way up to the tips of his ears. “Y-Yeah.” He replied quietly, his smile ever-present, perhaps even growing a bit. “She did.”

And, as Max settled back into her seat, staring out the window as they drove through entrance to Forest Hills, she was left with more questions than she’d had answers for…

Something was definitely happening.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine @kaitebugg03 @enchante-em

#becca.fic #ride the lightning #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x original character #stranger things fic #YYYEAAHHH CHAPTER 12 #did not intend to have it take so long to write #but it's here #bone apple teeth my dudes it's real fluffy and it'll only get worse from here #💗💗��💗💗

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becca-alexa · 1 year

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Ten: Come On and Dance

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: What will happen when Veronica invites Eddie to the dance?

Word Count: 5.4K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: i cannot believe this chapter is so long it's the longest one so far but SO MUCH is happening i didn't want to split it up -- plus i feel like all the other chapters have been short so it's nice to write something longer

and a big ol' hug and many many kisses to @rollforhellfire for literally being the trooper of the century with this and everything else i love and appreciate you friend and am sending every immaculate vibe in the universe your way 💗💗💗💗💗

Silence.

For once, the Munson trailer was infinitely quiet; not even the soft, droning hum of the bathroom fan was enough to break through the lingering monotony.

The aging hunk of metal groaned and griped as it was hammered by the sudden winds of the thunderstorm raging outside; the muted, rhythmic pelting of rain against the aluminum roof went unnoticed by the pair seated at the yellowed kitchen counter.

Veronica had lost count of how many glances she'd stolen of Eddie, of how many times she'd turned her head, her mind a jumbled knot of questions as she watched him diligently work through his assignment, tongue poking through between tight lips as he scratched at his chin with the butt of his pencil - her pencil, but that was beside the point. Her gaze trailed over his face, over the gentle roll of his cheeks, the sweep of his lashes over chocolate-brown eyes - and the longer she stared, the more her resolve bled away like grains of sand along a breaking shore. So lost was she in her spiraling thoughts, she hadn't realized that Eddie had stopped writing.

"There somethin' on my face, sweetheart?" he asked, his smile soft and easy - too easy, a stinging taunt to her frayed nerves. She pulled back, the forest of her eyes clear and bright - bare, at least by the way he was watching her, waiting for her answer.

Veronica shook her head, ducking away to hide the burning flush scalding up the column of her neck, rising to color the tips of her ears. "No, it's… it's nothing, sorry." She turned back to her own neglected work, scribbling whatever she could think of onto the page, desperate to throw him off her scent, the trembling of her hands belying her every attempt.

It's just Munson, Veronica reminded herself, tugging at her braids to avoid the questioning look she knew he was giving her.

Eddie leaned forward, head pressed against his folded arms, and he nudged his way toward her, into the bubble of her personal space. "C'mon, Windsor. Talk to me." He poked at her arm with his elbow until he'd pulled a smile from her - although small, it was enough to make his chest flutter. "What's goin' on in there?"

She looked at him, her uncertainty clear on her face - and he was getting nervous for her, brows knitting together, his face dropping into a frown. "Veronica-"

"Are you going to the Fling this Friday?"

And Eddie gaped at her, his mind racing, struggling, desperate to try and make sense of what she'd asked - since when did Eddie J. Munson ever go to school dances? He shook his head, even laughed a bit in disbelief. "I wasn't planning to," he'd answered - why did she care to know if he was going? God, just the thought of being there, watching her dance with someone else, a stranger's arms holding her close- "Why'd you ask?"

""S a dumb question, just forget it." she mumbled, and he'd felt sharp barbs of pain embed themselves in his chest at the way she'd deflated at his response.

"What was dumb about it?" He leaned in close to her, eyes wide, darting between her own, her silence gnawing away at him - should he not have said that? Had he been too blunt with her? "Hey, don't get all quiet on me," With but a moment's hesitation, his hand trailed over hers, his touch soft, poking at the tips of her fingers - a bold move, even for him. "What was dumb about your question?"

"Nothing, I…" She let out a heavy sigh, her gaze falling to her paper. "I was just curious."

Eddie gave her a hard look, his hand closing over hers, pressing, squeezing. "You're a shit liar, y'know."

"I'm not lying." Her sights narrowed, her mouth falling into a frown, and she pulled her hand away, fists clenched white atop her lap. "I'm not."

He rolled his eyes, shook his head, frizzy hair moving about his shoulders. "What's that thing El always says? Friends don't lie?"

"Munson, I'm not lying!"

"You're lying by omission." He'd finally caught her; she sunk into her seat, arms folding atop her chest as she stared at a chipped edge at the far end of the counter. "Same thing."

It took her more than a few moments to respond, to gather her courage, collect her thoughts as to form something even semi-coherent. "It's just… I was hoping that… that you'd come with me." As she picked at her nail in distraction, she missed the way his mouth had fallen open, the crimson heat shooting its way upwards over his face nearly fluorescent in color. His palms began to sweat, his legs shaking, and he had to force himself to stay focused on her words. "I don't want to go by myself."

"Veronica, I…" It was all he'd managed to say, his words pressed - stuck - as his traitorous voice all but abandoned him.

She shook her head. "I-It's fine, though… I'll just ask Steve-"

"Hold on - let's not do anything drastic," Despite the fact that the man had arguably - certainly, obviously - become his closest friend, there was no way on God's green Earth he was letting her go to what would surely be the biggest social event of the academic year with Steve Harrington. "I never said I wouldn't go."

"But, you-"

"I said I wasn't planning on going - not that I wouldn't." He moved his chair closer to her, giving her arm another nudge. "Guess I'll have to go to one of these things eventually, right?"

At the way she beamed, at how her chest filled with relief, her cheeks bright, eyes gleaming, Eddie nearly felt the need to squint against her blinding radiance as one does with the sun. "You would do that for me?" Her voice was quiet, hesitant, as though she hadn't - couldn't have - believed what he'd said. He nodded, adjusting himself in his seat.

"Yeah, why not?" He leaned back, folded his arms behind his heated neck. "Guess it wouldn't kill me to go to one dance."

Veronica nodded at his answer, pen in hand as she turned back to her assignment. "Okay," she'd answered in a quiet - meek - voice, but Eddie could hear the happiness behind her words, see her giddy anticipation in the way she swung her feet underneath the counter. "Okay, yeah, that's… that's good. Great…!." He shook his head and let out a chuckle, finding his pencil once more.

"Perfect - now could you help me with this?" He slid his page close to her - a believable excuse for wanting to be near her, to look over what she was sure to write in the margins. "I've been staring at this thing for, like, fifteen minutes and I still can't figure out what the Hell a prepositional phrase is."

"C'mon, Stevie - you're my only hope."

Eddie leaned bodily against the counter at Family Video, hands clasped together as he pleaded with Steve to help him - he certainly wasn't above begging when the situation demanded it, his own pride be damned.

And, Hell - if this didn't warrant a bit of groveling, what did?

"Only hope for what?" Robin's voice rang out; she walked from the employee office toward the front of the store with a heavy box of returned videos clutched in her arms. "Which universe are you saving this time, Steve?"

The man rolled his eyes, but he bit at the inside of his cheek to keep his smile in check. "He needs a suit."

"For what, a funeral?"

Steve graciously took the box from her, already moving about the racks to return them to their places. From behind a rather risqué cardboard display of Brooke Shields, he called out, "Eddie's taking Veronica to the Spring Fling on Friday."

"You are not!" Robin gaped in disbelief, her voice rising two whole octaves with mounting excitement, fingers splaying wide as her hands slammed onto the counter. "You asked her out?"

"She asked me." the metalhead hastily clarified, already tugging at the ends of his hair to try and quell his nerves at actually having agreed to it. "And it's not a date!" At Robin's deadpan look, he continued, "She doesn't want to go by herself, so she asked me to tag along."

"Sounds like a date to me, man." Steve chimed in, his answer doing nothing for the butterflies soaring through Eddie's stomach, fluttering up into his chest, wings beating in time to the pounding of his heart. Had Veronica meant it as a date?

"It's not. I'm just her… escort."

"Sounds dirty."

"Oh, really?" Eddie crossed his arms atop his chest, leather stretched tight over his shoulders as he leaned away from the counter to better look at Robin, his eyes narrowed in offended annoyance. "Do tell, and what progress have you made with Vickie?"

He barked out a laugh at the way she flushed a girlish pink, grumbling as she moved away from him, practically shoving Steve out from behind the display as she took his place among the cassette boxes.

"Come by the house later, I think I got a few things that'll fit you." Steve said, popping open his typical box of Thin Mints. "You know what she's wearin'?"

Eddie gave the man a blank look. "Uh… A dress?"

"The color, dingus!" Robin shouted, still hidden behind the tapes.

"Shit- I should know that, shouldn't I?" He paled, the sight of him so upended amusing to Steve in a perverse, gloating sort of way - they'd always poked fun at him whenever he was nervous for his dates. "A dude's supposed to match his girl, right?"

His girl?

Since when was Veronica his girl?

And Robin was quick to respond, "So it is a date-"

"It's not a date!" Eddie hadn't meant to raise his voice, but having his heart on the table was rough enough without Robin's merciless teasing. Steve rounded the counter, a sympathetic, gentle sort of look on his face as he patted Eddie on the shoulder - it was a look Eddie's seen him give the kids countless times, pulling it out whenever they needed a bit of comforting. Turning them away from Robin's general direction, he asked,

"You want me to call her?" Steve kept his voice quiet, calming, just as Eddie needed something to ground him from his terrifying freefall. He nodded, blushing to the roots of his hair, suddenly too warm in his jacket as he watched Steve move back behind the counter, dialing the number he'd already ascribed to memory - carved into his heart would've been better-fitting, but who's to say?

Eddie floated around the front desk, moving about anxiously, tugging at his fingers as he tried to pick up pieces of Steve's conversation with Veronica - the man had given quite the believable story, that Robin had struck out with Vickie and had asked him to be her date instead, and that he wanted to know what she'd be wearing so that they didn't accidentally show up in the same thing. A smart lie, smooth, practiced. And when he hung up, the sound of the phone hitting the plastic receiver made Eddie yelp, his hands flying up to his chest.

"W-What'd she say?" he managed to ask, his voice cracking - why he was so nervous to find out about a color, he'd never know.

"Lilac."

"Lilac?"

"It's like a baby purple. Cute choice, it'll go great with her eyes-"

"I know what lilac is, Buckley, thank you." Eddie groaned, dragging his hands down his tired face. "I need a tie, right? Does the rental place have those?"

"They do-" Steve started, only to be distracted by the sound of the door ringing - a customer had finally walked into the store, their first one in hours. Steve gave Robin a look, and the girl quickly scurried to help them find the movie they'd been searching for - something with Julia Roberts. Steve turned back toward Eddie, his voice almost at a whisper as he continued, "Just give my name and they'll give you a discount. You'll probably have to buy the tie, though - they only do rentals if you get the whole set."

Eddie nodded, trying to retain this otherwise alien information: give Steve's name, get a discount, buy the tie.

To his chagrin, Steve continued, "Look, man… Will you be alright?"

Eddie's head snapped up to look at him, finding again that warm, gentle look - and it stung, how unconvincing of an answer he gave in return.

"I… I don't know." He let out a quiet sigh, lip caught between his teeth as his gaze grew distant, his errant mind already beginning to drift. "I know it won't mean anything, but… Christ, I wish it did-"

"You don't know that-"

"Oh, please." Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, digging deep into himself to dredge up old, familiar insecurities. "Like she'd ever ask me out. She just didn't want to go alone."

"Yeah, but she asked you." Steve pointed out, and his words planted a seed of hope somewhere in the depths of Eddie's blackened heart. "That's gotta mean something, right?"

"She planned to ask you next."

"Still asked you first, though."

The metalhead nodded, thanked his friend yet again for the help, clinging to his words like a lifeline as he climbed into his van. His hands were tight around the steering wheel, leg bouncing, and he couldn't help the grin stretching across his lips, a blooming heat taking root inside his chest at having finally been somebody's first choice.

Eddie was pacing.

He'd arrived at Veronica's house a whole thirty minutes before the time they'd agreed upon; having driven up her street, he sat in silence, hands clung painfully to his steering wheel as he tried to calm the haphazard drumming of his heart. He was cold, he was sweltering, he felt giddy, frightened, nauseous- With a defeated sigh, he pulled himself from the safety of his van, and he wiped the sweat from his palms against the smart black suit pants Steve had lent him, all while his pulse continued to somersault, light-headed as he'd finally gathered the courage to ring her doorbell.

Lorraine had been the one to answer, dressed in yet another floof-trimmed robe - a vibrant lime-green this time, reaching down nearly to the floor, her hair pulled together with a shocking red scarf. "Eddie? Glad to see you!" she exclaimed, pulling the nervous man in close, kissing both his cheeks. "You lookin' for Roni? Oh, don't you look gorgeous!"

The suit had fit him better than expected, the dress shirt he'd borrowed from his uncle still crisp and white; the tie itself had given him little issue, but he'd agonized over the shade with the rental store clerk for hours. His hair was pulled back, away from his shoulders and knotted at the base of his neck - and Eddie floundered under her praise, face bursting red as he pressed a hand to the back of his head, his smile bashful as he replied, "Thank you, ma'am-"

"Mom?" Veronica's voice filtered down from the staircase, and the pair turned toward it - Lorraine, with a smile, and Eddie with his stomach plummeting to his feet. "Is that Eddie?"

"Yeah - and you're keeping him waitin', babe!" Lorraine shouted back, hands at her waist as she turned back toward the young man sweating bullets at her front door. "I swear, she's never been so picky with her hair before… Took me hours to get it the way she wanted-"

"I'll be right down…!" Veronica called; they could hear her moving about upstairs, the distant clack, clack, clacking of her heels echoing off the hardwood floors - and it was all Eddie could do to keep from collapsing into a full-blown panic, the blood draining from his face as though he'd opened a tap.

It's just Veronica. It's just Veronica. It's just-

Eddie swore his aching heart must've burst through his chest at the sight of Veronica descending the staircase - a princess, a goddess, a literal vision in… well, lilac.

The dress hung from her shoulders in the most delicately-arranged layers of tulle he'd ever seen, the light seeming to shimmer between the frills and gathers; it was form-fitting around her waist, gathered together with a large, silken bow. Her hair - ebony waves that seemed to flow in an endless cascade down her back - was pulled behind her, held in place with a bow matching the one on her dress. Her makeup, although applied sparingly, only made her all the more radiant.

Robin had been right - the color seemed to make her eyes glow as they landed on him; Eddie swore he saw the faintest of blushes grace her cheeks, and the smile she gave as she reached the final rung of steps nearly sent him to his knees.

"Hi." Veronica was the first to speak, her voice… breathless as she stood before him, taking in the full breadth of his outfit.

"Christ, you're an angel." Eddie's mouth - his stupid, stupid mouth - had spilled forth the words before he could even think to stop himself, and he nearly dissolved into a puddle as Veronica's blush deepened, her smile turning shy as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, aren't you two just adorable!" The moment was torn asunder by the sharp flashing of a camera, Veronica sent staggering back a step from the blinding light, Eddie's hand shooting out to keep her upright and steady.

"Mom…!" she'd hissed, a glowing warmth washing over her at the feeling of Eddie's hand at her back, solid and firm, her stomach in knots as Lorraine pushed the two closer together.

"One more picture…!" the woman exclaimed, and the pair just barely managed to smile before the shot was taken. "Oh, your first high school dance! And you both look so beautiful…!"

"Mom… Mom, we're gonna be late-" Grabbing Eddie - and wholly oblivious to the way he was having an existential crisis over the sudden realization that they were holding hands - she'd managed to pull him to the door before Lorraine took another picture.

"Alright, alright, go! Have fun!" the woman said, her send-off loud and cheerful as she waved at them from the open door, her robe billowing in the cool evening breeze. "And if you'll be home late, call me!"

Eddie helped Veronica into his van, his hand tingling all the while as he moved back to the driver's side, pulling himself inside before slamming the door shut.

"Ready, sweetheart?" he asked, his smile lopsided, yet sincere all the same, and Veronica nodded, the stars hung in her eyes as she looked at him - and Eddie was more than happy to pretend that they were shining just for him.

To say that their entrance into the Hawkins High gymnasium caused quite the stir was a monumental understatement; Veronica looked like a dream, walking on clouds as she beamed at the metalhead beside her, pulling the eye of every man in the room and the silent, seething ire of their partners. Eddie looked every bit the gentleman no one believed he could be - handsome, put together, mature, and with Veronica clinging to his arm, they were officially the couple for the evening.

They stuck to each other, neither willing - wanting - to be apart for very long. They had arrived early, the dancing reserved only for later in the night, so they stood near the punch bowl, Eddie having gotten them both something to drink.

It had barely been fifteen minutes since they'd arrived; thinking back, they were surprised they hadn't heard anything sooner - the rumors, the gossip, the scathing lies meant to tear and quarter them both. With their backs against a wall of stacked bleachers, the voices filtering through the seats reached them loud and painfully clear.

"Can you believe he's here?" One voice hissed.

"I swear to God, he's going to ruin our night." Another added, mocking and cruel.

"Who're you talking about?" A third chimed in.

"Who else? The freak."

Veronica felt a heated, vermillion anger begin to rise within her, the plastic cup clutched in her hand cracking from the force of her grip as she continued to listen to the unwelcome conversation.

"Did you see his date?"

"She’s that whiz kid, ain’t she? Veronica, I think. What's he doing with her?"

"You think he bribed her or somethin’?"

"I bet he threatened her with his demon shit! Probably scared her into coming, honestly."

Her breathing quickened, growing shallow with unabashed rage - they couldn't have been more wrong.

"God, why is he even here?"

"I wish he'd just leave - he's ruining our dance."

"Least he could do is spike the punch…"

She slammed her cup against the table, her fist trembling as she'd had enough - enough of their horrid taunts, of their snide comments. "Eddie-"

Turning to look at him, Veronica felt her heart crumble and shatter - his head was hung low, his sights lost somewhere in the depths of his half-empty cup, his eyes rimmed pink from the force he'd been expending to keep his tears at bay. His shoulders were hunched forward, the hand holding his drink pressed tightly to his chest. She caught sight of the faintest quiver of his lip, of the way he’d taken a sharp inhale through his nose, cleared his throat.

He just looked so… small.

"Eddie…?" Veronica took a step toward him, her hand gentle as she slipped it into his, her thumb brushing circles over his flushed skin. He finally looked at her, the apples of his face flushed; she noticed in an instant that his smile, tight as it was, didn't reach his eyes. It chilled her, and she wanted nothing more than to make it disappear.

She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back - weaker, but it was better than nothing. "Hey, sweetheart." he croaked, his throat already tight, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion.

Veronica let out a sigh, her lush eyes clear as they bore into him. "Eddie, do you want to leave?"

He was quick to shake his head. "N-No, you… You were so excited to come-" His stammered excuse lasted longer than it should have - to her, he shouldn't have bothered making an excuse at all. Still, she let him ramble, still holding his hand, grounding him, settling his scrambled nerves as he scrubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead. "Let's just stay, alright? I-I don't mind-"

"Eddie." Her voice cut cleanly through his, and his breathing all but stopped as she took yet another step toward him, their arms pressing together. "Forget this. Forget the dance," she told him, her tone serious. "Do you want to leave?"

She watched as his gaze fell to the floor between them, his lip gnawed between his teeth as he nodded ever so slightly, his brows drawn together, face aflame with undeserved embarrassment as she led him out of the room, unaware of the eyes trailing their hastened escape…

It was too early to go home, they'd decided, the night still too young and pleasantly warm to end so abruptly; for lack of a better place, Eddie had driven them to Sattler Quarry, parking the van near the cliff's edge as to look out onto the abyss, the moon's reflection bright and gleaming off the still water.

They sat together, silent as neither were sure of what to say, of what needed to be said. Eddie anxiously twisted at his rings, hair falling loose and free about his shoulders - he'd pulled it from its knot the moment he’d climbed into his van after leaving the dance.

"Why do you let them talk about you like that?" Veronica's voice was soft, quiet, but it settled in his stomach like leaden weights - he knew she'd be looking for answers. "I've heard the rumors, Eds-"

Eddie shook his head, and he dragged a hand over his face before turning to look at her, the faintest hint of red still tinting his eyes. "I know, it's just… I'd rather them talk about me than the others, y'know? Dustin, Mike, Lucas… shit, even the older ones." His shoulders dropped, head falling against the open door of the van as he stared into the hands threaded atop his lap. "I can handle a few rumors - I'm used to it. But, they don't need to be goin' through this shit. If the entirety of Hawkins High dragging me through the mud means they all make it out of that Hellhole alive, then… then I'll take it. I don't care."

At that moment, Veronica wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms, to comfort him, to hold him - how long had this been going on that he'd gotten used to it? It often slipped her mind that she'd only moved to Hawkins at the start of the school year; already so entrenched there, it felt as though she'd lived there all her life - and it was at moments like this where she was bitterly reminded that she didn't know much of anything. Pushing down the mounting urge, she conceded with sliding her hand over his, warm over cold, smooth over rough.

"That's very… noble of you." she replied, unable to think of another word befitting him - it was noble that he'd been willing to throw himself to the wolves for his friends without a moment's hesitation.

Eddie stared at their hands, the tightness in his chest slowly ebbing away under her touch. "Hey, I'm a homely knight, remember?" he said with a tired laugh and a smile that made her chest ache. "Got a reputation to keep up."

"You're not looking very homely, though." Veronica said, her voice somewhere between truthful and teasing. "You clean up well, Munson."

"So do you." His words came smoothly, belying the nervousness he felt at being alone with her. "I don't think I've ever seen your hair down like that. It's pretty."

She blushed tenderly at his compliment, pulling her hand from his as she settled it atop her lap, tugging at the tips of her fingers.

He watched her for a moment - admired her, but he wasn't about to tell her so. "Look, I-I'm sorry for ruining your night."

"It wasn't your fault, Eddie-" Her head snapped up, eyes velveteen as she turned to look at him.

"Still, you should have gotten that dance."

She straightened, legs pulling up from where they'd been dangling over the edge of the van, her body twisting to look back at the passenger's seat. "We can still do that.” She’d somehow managed to flip herself around, nearly burying them both in an ocean of airy tulle and silken ribbon. “You got any music in here?" she asked, pointing to the glove compartment, not bothering to wait for his answer as she crawled over piles of blankets and pillows to reach the front of the van, the compartment door practically falling open for her as she dug through a thick stack of tapes.

"Veronica, hold on-" For the life of him, he could only think of one tape he'd kept in that stack - and he didn't think he'd survive if she found it.

Skimming through the titles, he counted the plastic clacks, his heart skipping a beat as she stopped at the eighth tape - because of course she would.

It was hers, anyway.

"Hey, this… this is mine." She ran her thumb over her faded handwriting, the once-pristine tape now faded and well-loved, the spools ground smooth from having been listened and re-listened to endlessly. How had he gotten it? She'd sworn it was gone forever…

"You left it behind after you… After I blew up on you a while back."

Her mouth opened with a gasp, her eyes wide as she exclaimed, "In the drama room!" She clutched the tape to her chest, voice bubbling with excitement. "And you kept it? Really?"

Eddie felt his face burn as he nodded, head hanging low, his chin nearly to his chest as he tried to hide the scalding blush singeing the tips of his ears. "I swear to God, I meant to give it back-"

"This is perfect!" Veronica slid the tape into the car's player; she flipped through the songs, stopping at Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper - the fourth song on the tape, he knew, having already memorized the track list.

She crawled out of the van as the instrumental began to play, pulling him to his feet, and she’d led them a ways away from the vehicle to a flat patch of grass, her smile radiant as she looked at him.

"Sweetheart, I… I gotta tell you, I got two left feet-" Eddie felt beyond awkward as he stared at her, unsure of what to do, of where to put his hands. As the music gently flowed from the van, catching in the balmy evening breeze, Veronica finally turned to face him; she straightened out the flounces of her dress, pulled back her hair, her face already beginning to pinken as the gap between them quickly disappeared.

"Veronica-"

"It's easy, alright? Here-" She picked up his hands, settling them at her waist; she could feel the warmth of his touch through the layers of fabric. Eddie looked at her, his mind wiped clean at the feeling of her under his palms, of being able to touch her. "Hold me, just like that." she explained, taking yet another step toward him, their bodies nearly chest to chest. "And I put my hands here…" As she slipped her arms over his shoulders, fingers lacing together, Eddie nearly forgot how to breathe, and it took her nudging his foot with her own to pull back his attention.

"Follow the rhythm of the music." Eddie’s eyes began to gleam, his smile wide - that, he could do; as he picked up on the beat, she began to move them side to side in time. "See? Easy peasy." she said, face alight with glee at the way he'd shaken his head. "You're already a natural."

"Yeah?" he asked, ducking closer toward her; neither were aware of - or, rather, chose to acknowledge - how the sliver of space between them was gone, of how they'd pressed into each other. Eddie's hands moved further behind her, settling at the small of her back, fingers splayed apart as he held her against him. "This isn't as bad as I'd thought it'd be."

"You thought dancing with me would be bad?" Veronica's head fell back with a laugh, bright and bubbling, and Eddie's toothy smile nearly split his face in two.

"Not with you - just in general, I guess."

"You don't dance much?"

"Angel, do I look like I dance at all?"

She shook her head, silken hair brushing gently over his hands, nearly catching between his fingers. "I don't know… Could've fooled me." she teased, still giddy, the hands she'd kept behind his head sliding over his shoulders, trailing down to his suited chest.

They were quiet for a while, the song changing into something slower, more intimate, as they continued to sway to the rhythm.

"Eddie?" Veronica whispered, afraid the moment between them - whatever it was - would be gone if she spoke too loudly.

"Hm?" came his hummed reply.

"Thanks for coming with me, it's been… really nice." He'd pulled away just enough to look at her, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Don't regret having asked me first?"

And, to his shock, she shook her head, and he'd caught the way her face had burst the prettiest shade of blush he'd ever seen just before she'd pressed it to his shoulder, hiding herself away. "I-I was never going to ask Steve, I just… I don't know, I didn't want you to think I was lame or whatever..."

Eddie nodded, heart soaring, the knots that now seemed to be a permanent fixture in his stomach slowly unraveling, and a blissful sort of peace washed over him as he tightened his hold around her, his head falling atop hers, cheek pressed to her hair as they continued to dance - and being there, with her in his arms, dancing in front of an abandoned quarry under the pale light of the moon… Nothing in his life had ever made more sense.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine @kaitebugg03 @enchante-em

#becca.fic #ride the lightning #IT'S FINALLY PROOFREAD AND READY AAAAAAAA #i swear the universe was not on my side today #but it's hereeeee and it's so fluffyyyyyy #seven more chapters to go before these doofuses have their complete happy ending #and then it's STEVE's turn muahahahaha #and as always comments are always appreciated 💗#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x original character #stranger things fic

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becca-alexa · 1 year

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Eight: The Unforgiven

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Veronica can't help but be worried when Eddie misses school - will he finally be able to apologize?

Word Count: 4.4K

Content Warnings: mentions of illness

Author's Note: GOD this took way too long to put out -- i'm back at school and it's really killing me but i will try to get these out as soon as i can!! and THANK YOU FOR READING 💗

and as always HUGE hug and many many kisses to @rollforhellfire for putting up with me and reading these before they go out 💗💗💗

He’d missed first period.

Whatever. If he wanted to risk his chances at graduation with shoddy attendance, so be it.

It wasn’t like she cared.

Sitting through Ms. O’Donnell’s ramblings on… whatever Shakespearian drama she’d decided to delve into that week was usually easy for her. Simple; she’d take a few notes, answer a few questions. But, as her eyes drifted to the empty seat three desks over, Veronica couldn’t help but chew on her lip - it wasn’t unusual for Eddie to be late, but he was rarely absent. She kicked her feet, trying to figure out where he could be, what he could be doing, so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear name being called.

“Miss Windsor?” Mrs. O’Donnell called out, tapping her manicured fingers against her desk in annoyance. “Miss Windsor!”

“H-Huh…?” Veronica’s head snapped toward the board, face flushed as she desperately tried to recall what the older woman had been saying. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

Mrs. O’Donnell rolled her eyes. “What was Romeo’s intention in pursuing Juliet?”

Veronica gave a quick answer - true love. It seemed to pacify the woman, as she’d turned back around and continued her droll recitation of the literary classic. Struggling to keep from gnawing at her nails, her eyes moved to the clock hanging above the door, and she counted the seconds for the class to be over, a feeling of unease already settling itself in her stomach.

He’d missed second period, and third - and by fifth, Veronica was beside herself with worry. Not that he deserved her concern, but it still managed to wrap itself around her chest, tightening, pulling the air from her lungs as she pushed through the heavy double-doors leading into the lunchroom. Searching the crowd, she nearly barreled into an unsuspecting group of freshmen in her haste to reach her table.

“Max.” Veronica called out, winded, clearly frazzled, dazed and confused beyond anything her friends had ever seen. “Did you see Eddie this morning?” The younger girl gave her an odd look, chewing through her sad excuse of a burger before answering with a shrug.

“His van was still there when Steve picked me up.”

“You didn’t see him at all?”

Max shook her head, stabbing a straw through her carton of chocolate milk. “He’s probably sick.” she said by way of a reply, giving the two of them an exasperated look. “Like, who the Hell goes for a bike ride in the middle of a thunderstorm?”

Sick? Of course he’d gotten sick.

Eddie was sick… and it was her fault.

“You lookin’ for him?” Robin chimed in, wiping sandwich crumbs from her hands. “I have him next period - I can pass along a message, if I see him.”

Veronica slowly shook her head, her thoughts a violent spiral behind her troubled eyes. “No, it’s… That’s okay. I don’t think he’s here today.” She looked around the room, her bag suddenly too heavy, the noises suddenly too loud. She needed to get out, needed to leave-

“Hey, aren’t you going to eat?” Max shouted over the crowd, giving Robin a confused look as they watched Veronica shove her way toward the doors.

“I forgot I had something to do!” she shouted back, giving them both a wave, not bothering to look back. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Veronica stared at the door to the trailer, absentmindedly counting the rusted spots speckling the metal, the plastic Melvald’s bag in her hand stuffed to the brim with… everything, feeling as though it’d been filled with bricks. Don’t be stupid, it’s just Munson, she reminded herself, her words echoing through the empty expanses of her mind, never finding purchase, never truly reassuring her. Taking in what she intended to be a calming breath, she knocked on the door. Once, twice, even a third time, but was met with silence, the quiet buzzing of the rain around her silenced only by the sound of her pulse thrumming in her ears.

Looking around, she found the small plastic rock hidden just behind the railing Eddie had shown her after their first few meetings; flipping it over, she pulled out the key, brassy and well-worn with age, and let herself in. “Hello?” she called out, her voice cautious, hesitant - she'd never actually used the secret key before. Usually, Wayne had always been around to let her inside. She felt… out of place, being in the trailer by herself. Something felt off, missing. “Uncle Wayne? You home?”

She took off her shoes at the door, not wanting to track in mud and water. The television was off, as was the radio, the coffee maker, the hallway light that always seemed to flicker, no matter how new the bulb was. The unending stillness unnerved her, the sound of her setting her bag of supplies atop the kitchen counter much too loud, too jarring. Working quickly, she pulled out a pot from one of the cabinets, putting it on the stove, all but tearing open a can of soup and leaving it to warm - chicken noodle. Simple, filling, familiar. She wasn’t sure what kind of soup Eddie liked, and for the life of her, she didn’t know why she cared. But, she conceded with a sigh, he did need to eat - even if that meant taking his preferences into consideration.

With the soup debacle cleared, Veronica made her way further into the trailer, to where she knew Eddie’s bedroom to be; the furthest room down the narrow hallway, past the bathroom and the oddly-framed picture of geese flying over a lake, worn and yellowed from years of nicotine. She stopped just before the threshold of his door, her mind still a whirlwind as she took that final step forward.

“Eddie…?” she whispered, having to squint her eyes as she looked around the room. The curtains were drawn, the blinds closed, blanketing the room in a stuffy, musty darkness. “Munson, are you in here?” Hearing no answer, she let herself in, and reached for where she knew his lamp to be - and, to her shock, she found him, abed and asleep. Rather, as asleep as someone with a raging fever could be. A swell of sympathy - unwarranted sympathy, she reminded herself - overcame her at the sight of him, shiny with sweat, his brows furrowed almost painfully as he groaned, turning onto his side, pulling his blankets infinitely tighter around him. Even from beneath the covers, she could tell how roughly he trembled, his cheeks and nose apple-red.

“God, Munson, why’d you have to do that…?” She brought his desk chair to his bedside, her touch gentle, featherlight as she brushed the damp hair off his forehead, feeling for his temperature. “You total dingus…” Her mind began to wander, her thoughts trailing off to nothing as she allowed herself a single indulgence; she let her hand trail down his face, the backs of her fingers soft against the light stubble of his cheek, tracing over the gentle edge of his jaw. Feeling the caress through the iron grip of his nightmare, Eddie leaned into her touch with another groan, chasing any relief he could find, its source be damned. He was so hot, and she was cold-

“Hey, you alive in there?”

That voice. Wincing as he swallowed against the dryness of his throat, Eddie peeled his eyes open, aching and miserable in a way he hadn’t felt since… well, since he’d been dragged out of the Upside Down. His chest burned, his hands itched, but all he could feel was the cool relief ghosting over his skin. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, his mind still a pitiful haze as he mumbled, “Angel…?”

Angel. That was new.

“Sorry, it’s just me.” Veronica tried to keep her smile out of her voice. She didn’t pull her hand away, letting it rest against him, her thumb rubbing slow circles over his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad-” Eddie croaked, burying his face into his blanket as he let out a series of hoarse coughs, his shoulders shaking with the effort he expended trying to catch his breath, tears gleaming at the corners of his eyes as he calmed himself down. “Shit. Bad.”

“I’m sorry.” Her response was genuine, honest. “Would some warm soup make you feel better?”

“Not hungry.” he mumbled with a pout unbefitting his twenty years.

Veronica rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she bit back her grin. “You can’t take your medicine on an empty gut.” At her words, a shiver ran through him - just the mention of medicine made his stomach roll, clench, flip; he buried his face back into the blanket, his breathing labored as he tried to keep himself from tossing his cookies all over the carpet.

“What is it?” Veronica asked, suddenly panicked. “Are you-”

Eddie nodded.

Her head snapped around the room, searching for something she could give to Eddie to use, counting the seconds between his breaths as she finally found his trash bin. Dumping out the empty baggies and crumbled homework assignments, she shoved the thing at his face just as he’d started to heave. She held onto him - he clung to her - as he brought up whatever sorry excuse of a meal he’d had that day; pulling aside his hair, she rubbed at his back, mumbling soothing words, her touch grounding him as he pulled away, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Feeling better?”

“Still shit.”

She leaned him back against the wall, propping him up with pillows to keep him comfortable as she left to flush away his impromptu escapade, returning with a glass of water. “Drink it.” She left no room for arguments, but he was too weak to even reach out for the thing, let alone bring it to his mouth. Veronica, again, rolled her eyes as he looked away, his own clenched shut in shame, his lips a thin line as he tried to keep them from quivering.

“You’re something else, Munson, y’know that?”

He didn’t argue with her.

With the patience of a saint, she brought the glass to his lips, pausing often to let him breathe as she made sure he finished it off, leaving and returning with another - and a sleeve of saltines. “C’mon, big boy, you need to eat.” He shook his head, focusing on his breathing, slow and steady. She leaned in toward him, her hand back on his forehead, tender and sweet - she had to break out the heavy artillery. “Just one. For me, yeah?” She pressed the salty square to his mouth, watching with unfiltered satisfaction as he nibbled at the corner of one, then another, and another still, until he had downed half the packet.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked, pointedly ignoring his piercing glare. “Feeling up for that soup now?”

With a stifled groan, he nodded, the emptiness of his stomach more uncomfortable than the prospect of eating. His gaze followed her out as she disappeared down the hall, something in his sickness-addled mind screaming at him to bring her back, to keep her with him; he tried to move but couldn’t, tried to shout but wasn’t able to produce any sound louder than a squeak. He wanted her, needed her - where was she? How long had she been gone? He couldn’t hear her anymore. Had she left? Was he by himself? As the seconds ticked by - hours to him - the lonely ache that he’d always kept at the fringes of his mind flooded into him, enveloped him, dominated his thoughts.

He was alone, as he always was.

“Hey, hey, whoa - what’s with the waterworks?” Veronica was quick to set the soup on his nightstand, falling back into her seat as she brought her hands - still warmed from the bowl - to Eddie’s face, catching his tears, wiping them away as they dripped onto his lap. “What happened? Your stomach hurt again?”

“Y-You… You l-left…” he tried to say, swallowing against the aching knot in his throat. “You were gone.”

“I was in the kitchen, remember? Getting your soup?” she ran a hand through his hair, making a mental note to brush it out later. “What, did you think I…” As the meaning of his words seeped into her mind, she felt her heart constrict, her stomach drop. “Eddie, did you think I went home?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

How often had he been forced to do this by himself? To weather his illnesses on his own? As much as she knew the man loved his nephew, she couldn’t imagine Wayne staying home to take care of him - nor could she imagine Eddie letting him do such a thing.

“I’m right here, dingus.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, still tight as she cradled the side of his face, pulling at him to look at her. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Again, he nodded, staring at her as though she were an angel. His angel.

She fed him the soup, filling the silence between them with mindless chatter about the school day - rather, it was mindless to him. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand a word she was saying, his eyes already beginning to droop as she set the now-empty bowl aside.

She watched as his head bobbed once, twice, smiling as she pulled at a few of the pillows behind him to lay him back down. “Sleepy?” she asked, tugging his blanket up to his shoulders, biting back a grin as he curled up and turned himself toward her.

“Tired.”

“I bet.”

“Soup was good.”

“I’m glad it was.”

Veronica stood up, the bowl and half-eaten sleeve of crackers balanced in one hand when she felt something pull at the hem of her skirt, urging her to turn around.

“Stay…?”

“...Sure, Munson.” she relented, her sigh warm, balmy as her voice pulled him further into whatever dream his mind had chosen for him - something pleasant, she hoped. “I’ll stay.”

Slowly, peacefully, Eddie drifted away, clinging to her hand as tightly as his sapped strength would allow, the smallest of smiles on his lips at the feeling of her beside him.

“Christ, I feel like shit.”

Eddie walked out into his living room, hands scrubbing at his face as he stumbled toward the kitchen in search of something to drink, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, chapped lips nearly to the point of bleeding.

“Look like it, too.” Wayne called out from the couch, turning down the game he’d been watching before leaving for work - football, probably. Eddie was too exhausted to even pretend to care. “There’s still soup on the stove, if you’re hungry.”

Eddie rushed into the kitchen as quickly as his sapped strength allowed - more of a hobble than a run. “Aw, Uncle Wayne, you shouldn’t have.” he croaked, lifting the lid, sighing as a salty cloud of steam reached his face. God, he was starving.

“I didn’t.” Wayne kept his voice even in tone, watching as his nephew pulled a bowl from inside the cabinet beside the stove, digging through one of the drawers for a spoon, all the while biting back a grin. “The lil’ lady did.”

Eddie dropped his spoon in the pot, hissing out a curse as he tried to fish it out, burning the tips of his fingers in the hot broth. “Veronica? She was here?” He stared at his uncle for some sort of clarification, but the man just shrugged. “When was this?”

“Today.” Wayne said by way of reply, walking toward the solitary peg on the wall where he’d hang his coat. “Must’ve skipped school to come here, I think. Brought you all sorts of goodies.” At his words, Eddie finally noticed the plastic bag set atop the counter, filled with several more cans of soup, bottles and boxes of medicine - and, at the very bottom of the bag, pretzels. The tiny ones he liked to eat at school.

She’d remembered the kind he liked.

Memories of earlier that day slowly trickled into his mind - Veronica in his room, feeding him, calming him down. Him, in tears; her, holding his hand. As if he hadn’t already been feeling like a sentient pile of hot garbage, the fact that she had gone out of her way - skipped school, of all things - to look after him buried what was left of his crumbling pride.

Wasn’t she upset with him? Didn’t she hate him?

And, yet, she still cared.

He felt like such a loser.

“Don’t forget to take your medicine.” Wayne called out from the door, pulling his hat down over his balding head, hand already gripping the doorknob. “Every six hours, she said. Couldn’t get you to take it before.”

Eddie waved off his uncle, his mind still reeling at the fact that Veronica had been there - in his trailer, in his bedroom, with him. Tearing open the safety seal to a bottle of NyQuil, he grimaced as he took the measured amount, chasing down the green bile with a glass of water, all while thinking only of her.

It took two days before Eddie was well enough to return to school, and his presence was met with a… mixed reception.

“Veronica…!”

Eddie struggled to shout above the waves of students ebbing and flowing through the halls, all eager to leave for the day, the sound of the final bell still ringing in his ears as he pushed his way forward. ”Veronica, please - just listen to me!”

“Shove it, Munson.” her voice carried little, yet he heard it all the same, her words piercing his chest, his heart. Nonetheless, he continued after her, nearly knocking someone over as he pushed through the building’s front doors. He was paces behind her now - so close, yet still impossibly far away.

“Please, I… Just let me explain!”

“What could you possibly have to explain-”

“Five minutes.” he begged, pleaded, his hands shaking as he held them at his sides. “Please… A-And then you’ll never have to talk to me again, I swear.”

He stared at her, holding his breath as she turned around, hands set firmly at her hips. Even with the distance between them, he could see the pain in her eyes, certain they reflected his own. He let out a trembling exhale, tearing a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts into some semblance of order, his lip worried to the point of bruising between his teeth.

“What you heard that day, I… It came out wrong.” He swallowed, still watching her, the iota of confidence he’d had going into their conversation deflating as she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that-”

“How did you mean it, then?”

“Not the way you took it…!”

Veronica let out a groan, pinching the space between her eyes, her head falling to her chest as she turned back around, frustrations mounting as she struggled with the lock on her bicycle. “I don’t have time for this.”

Eddie found himself at an impasse, his unbridled need for her to just understand bringing him nearly to the verge of tears, the muddled desperation bleeding through his chest breaking his voice. “I-I miss you.”

She froze, shoulders stiff, her hands stilling atop the chilled lock as she swallowed at the tightness coiling in her throat, her words soft and strained as she replied, “Eddie, don’t-”

“I mean it, Veronica.” He took a half-step toward her, a cautious step, maybe just a tread. Still, she didn’t shy away from him; he took what little he could and bolstered his resolve. “And I’d rather you hate me and know that I do, than… than hate me and think that I don’t.”

Hate him? Veronica spun back around, giving him a pointed look as if to say she’d never heard something so ridiculous. “I don’t hate you, I…” She blinked once, twice, before pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes, cursing herself for getting so emotional. “God, I just… I really thought we were finally friends, y’know?”

“We are friends-”

“Are we?” She hadn’t realized she’d raised her voice, drawing more than a few curious eyes from the students still gathered in the parking lot. “Because it sure as Hell didn’t seem that way when you were talking to Gareth!”

"Forget Gareth! Forget that whole conversation!" Eddie started to pace, pulling at his hair, dragging his hands down his face as he tried to keep his breathing in check, failing miserably as he felt a sweltering heat work its way up his neck. “I was being a total dickhead, alright? I didn’t mean any of it! I was just talking straight out of my ass-”

“God, seriously-”

“I’m an idiot - I know! But, sweetheart, you have to believe me…!”

He stopped, turning on his heel to look at her, swearing he could feel her indecisiveness; it made him want to scream, watching how uncertain she was, how her hands tugged at the hem of her cable knit sweater, gaze falling to her feet.

And Eddie dropped to the ground, to his knees, hands reaching out, grabbing one of her own, his voice loud and booming as though they weren’t surrounded by dozens of inquisitive people. “Oh, will the beautiful princess spare a morsel of pity for this lowly knight?” As he continued on, Veronica couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips, her resistance withering away with each passing phrase.

“Eddie, get up-”

“Pray tell, shall ye bestow thine most benevolent forgiveness upon such a homely creature as I?” He didn’t care for the small crowd gathered around them, gawking at his display - some in annoyance, but more than a few in unspoken envy. His focus was solely on Veronica, on the way her warring thoughts were clear as day behind her verdant eyes, her expression a cautionary mix of sadness and… and hope.

Calling forth what was left of his courage, he brought her hand to his lips, pressing the softest of kisses atop her knuckles, his touch lingering perhaps a bit too long before he lifted his head to look at her.

“Please, Veronica…?”

“Get off the ground, dingus.”

He scrambled to his feet, his eyes never leaving hers, his stomach leaping as he waited for her to speak, to sort through her thoughts.

Veronica kicked at a pebble near her foot, her shoulders falling ever so slightly, braids swaying as she shifted from one leg to the other, her hesitation palpable. “You… You really hurt my feelings, Eds.” Her voice was small, quiet, and it pained him to hear it, knowing he was at fault.

“I know - and I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

She looked at him - truly looked at him - and the shadow of a smile playing at her lips sent butterflies soaring through his chest. “So, what you said before… You didn’t mean it?”

“Everything in that conversation can be regarded as false.” he answered quickly, his eagerness making her budding smile broaden, even if only a little. He took another reluctant step toward her, hands stuffed into his pockets, lip caught between his teeth as he asked, “So, are we okay? Are… Are we still friends?”

And she shoved at his shoulder, rolling her eyes, her reply of, “Yes, you dweeb, we’re still friends.” sending an explosion of relief blooming through him, his body moving on its own accord as he picked her up in his arms, his head resting atop hers, his smile absolutely radiant as she returned his embrace with one just as tight.

Eddie wiped the sweat trailing over his brow, shaking the nervousness from his hands as he made his way up Jeff’s driveway toward the open garage, guitar slung across his back, heart pounding in his throat. Inside, he could see the other three already gathered, practicing what he could only assume to be their Indy setlist; his stomach dropped, tightened as Gareth's words echoed through his mind.

He had been neglecting the band; Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time he’d played his Sweetheart, let alone practiced with them.

The trio were quiet as he approached them, unsure of what to say, how to address him - and he deserved as much, he’d figured. It was only fair, considering how things had been going as of late.

Thomas was the first to acknowledge him. "Hey, Eds." he called out, giving his friend a wave, breaking the frigid ice between them; Eddie gave a smile in return, hands deep into his pockets as he looked between the three of them, his mind wiped clean of the speech he'd prepared.

“Look, I-” he began, but was… cut off? Jeff waved his hand around, shutting him up as he whispered something sternly to Gareth, pushing the younger man forward.

“Look, man, before you start, Gareth’s got something he wants to say.” Another shove, and Gareth’s standing face-to-face with the repentant metalhead, tugging at his fingers, kicking his feet. "Don’t you?"

Eddie watched, waited as Gareth took in a deep, steeling breath, hands twisting behind him as he worked through his thoughts.

“Dude-”

“I-I was wrong, for saying what I did.” Gareth’s voice, quiet as it was, carried through the open garage as though he’d been shouting, his apology hanging heavy between them. “I was just… angry, I guess…”

Eddie blinked, still reeling from the shock of having received an apology at all - and from Gareth, of all people; he’d gone to the group fully prepared to grovel for his spot back in the band.

“I… We… know how hard you’re working to graduate this time - and that stuff I said about Veronica was just…” Gareth continued, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked behind him to Jeff, who gave him an encouraging look. And, taking in a final breath, he quickly added, “I’m sorry, man. We all are.”

Eddie shook his head, still in obvious disbelief; he took a step forward, crossing the length of the garage and dismissing Gareth’s extended hand altogether as he pulled the young man into his arms, his hold well past the point of tightening discomfort.

“A-Alright, man!” Gareth laughed, both returning his friend’s embrace and struggling to escape from it; Eddie, finally relenting, turned to them all, his face tickled pink as he asked,

“So… uh… Am I back in the band?”

“Dude, who said you ever left?” Thomas exclaimed, clapping a hand against Eddie’s shoulder with enough - albeit loving - force to knock him off balance, and the metalhead’s smile is blinding as he takes his usual position beside Gareth, strumming away at his guitar.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine @kaitebugg03

#becca.fic #ride the lightning #part two!!!it's finally here #thank GOD because having to write this and be back at school is literally going to be the end of me lol #this was actually the first chapter i wrote when starting this series so it may be a bit off but it is one of my favorites so far #so glad they finally made up but that scene where eddie makes up with his bois healed my heart #and as always comments are always appreciated 💗#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x oc #stranger things

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becca-alexa · 11 months

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Eleven: I Want the One I Can't Have

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Will Eddie be able to confess his feelings to Veronica?

Word Count: 7.6K

Content Warnings: cursing, mentions of assault

Author's Note: IT'S HERE! IT'S FINALLY HERE! AND THIS IS A LONG CHAPTER!

as always, HUGS and KISSES and BLESSINGS IN ABUNDANCE to @hellflayer for being the bestie of the century and super patient with me while i try and squeeze these out of me like a go-gurt

Hellfire nights were special, hallowed, sacred to the brave, adventurous souls who dared to face its horrors, who defied the will of the Gods and trudged forward, risking life and limb to defeat the eldritch abominations set before them. Eddie, leaning over the crowded table, all but screamed as his hands waved over the paper board, his eyes dark as he warned,

“Shall ye risk the scourge of the Leviathan, Sir Lucas?” His lips twisted into a grin, sending chills through the spines of the youngest among their group; Lucas felt his sweat run cold down the hollows of his back, Dustin at his side staring daggers at the accursed board, hands trembling as he handed his friend the dice - they were at their wit’s end, the entire party decimated by the creature with but one man left standing.

It was all or nothing.

“Might I suggest a retreat, youngling?” Eddie began to pace around the table, the jingle of the chain hung from his pants an echoing screech through the massive room - Steve had agreed to host them this week, and as he sat off to the side, watching with considerably less confusion than he normally had for their game, even he was nervous for Lucas. “You’ll need to roll at least a fourteen to defeat the creature.”

“You got this, man.” Mike said quickly, wiping away the sweat collecting on his hands along the lengths of his pants. “Don’t even think about it. Just roll the dice.”

“You’ve rolled higher than that before. This’ll be easy.” Will added - it wasn’t lost on him that the older ones stayed quiet, not wanting to interfere, none wanting to be in his position.

If he lost this roll, the entire campaign would be in jeopardy.

“Yeah, you can totally do this.” Dustin hurriedly reassured him, then leaned behind the boy’s back to mouth at Will, We’re screwed!

“Sir Lucas!” Eddie boomed, every head snapping in his direction; the man stared into their eyes, relishing in their fear, totally immersed in his role. “Have you made your choice?”

Lucas swallowed dryly, and nodded his head. “I-I’ll roll.”

“The man says he’ll roll!” Eddie fell back into his throne - one of Steve’s plush armchairs with a blanket draped over top - and folded his legs, leaning away from them, arms crossed atop his chest. “Best of luck to you, then.”

Lucas shook the dice in his hand, blew into his fist, shook them again, the space bathed in a soul-crushing silence as they all watched him with bated breath - his fist slowly rose over the table, fingers parting, the molded acrylic landing atop the table in a series of deafening knocks, and they stared as the pieces slowly skidded to a halt, the golden numbers ascribed atop them glimmering in the low light of the room.

“Sixteen.” Gareth’s voice was barely above a whisper, choked as he rapidly looked between Eddie and the rest of the party. “That makes sixteen…!”

They sat in stillness, no one blinking, no one breathing as Gareth’s words echoed through their minds, a shared beat of shock passing between them before they all erupted in thunderous applause - and Eddie sank deep into his chair, a hand sent dragging through his errant hair as he mumbled to himself, “Holy Hell, he did it…”

“That was great, man!” Jeff cheered.

“God, I was sweating…!” Thomas added, running his hands over his flushed face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous for a roll before!”

“Settle down! Settle down, gentlemen…!” Eddie announced, waving his hands about as he gathered their attention, a pleased sort of smile on his face. “Sir Lucas has successfully defeated the Leviathan and has charted his course over the Seven Seas of Wysteria-”

“And he revives the party?” Will asked excitedly, eyes wide and gleaming with wonder, his energy contagious as the others nodded in agreement - and Eddie let out a sigh, shaking his head as he continued on…

“Yes, Will the Wise, he revives the party - and you all live to see another day in the company of your wonderful dungeon master-”

“Alright, alright, we get it.” Gareth groaned, rolling his eyes as Jeff and Thomas tried to keep their laughter to themselves. “Quit blowin’ smoke up your ass, man.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at him. “...and Gareth starts the next campaign with a debuff.”

“Hey!”

But it was too late - Eddie was shuffling the younger ones about the room, helping them gather their things and collect whatever trash they’d accumulated before sending them toward the door. “Hurry along, my little sheep - I promised your mothers I’d have you all home before midnight, and I am nothing if not a man of my word.” They’d wanted to stay longer - they always did, especially when they were able to have Hellfire at Steve’s. “Hey, no griping, or next week you’ll be starting out stuck in a swamp.”

They’d all said their goodbyes, thanked Steve for his hospitality, and were on their way out when Eddie pulled Thomas back by the shoulder, handing him his keys. “Hey, man, could you warm up the van?” he asked, nodding back toward where Steve was setting his living room furniture back to rights. “I’ll be right out.” Thomas gave a smile in return, and followed out the rest of the group; Eddie smiled as he heard them all fight over who would get to ride shotgun.

Working together, it took them no time at all to rearrange all of the furniture; Steve couldn’t help but think it odd that Eddie had wanted to stay behind and help - not that he didn’t appreciate the gesture, but it would have taken him all of ten minutes to do it alone. He noticed Eddie tugging at his fingers, chewing at his lip - nervous ticks, he now knew. “Hey, man, what’s up…?”

“It finally happened, Steve…” Eddie said, a hint of breathlessness in his voice, his lips stretched into the slightest of smiles as he stared at the carpeted floor, kicking his feet. Steve didn’t follow.

“Yeah, I almost laid an egg watching Lucas’ roll!” Steve said elatedly, hoping he’d hit his mark - but from the look on Eddie’s face, he’d missed by a mile. With a sigh, he took a step closer to the older man, laid a hand upon his shoulder, gave him a gentle squeeze as to pull his attention. “...You’re not talking about the campaign, are you?”

Eddie shook his head, his face pale, a nervous look in his eyes - nervous, yet giddy.

“Yeah, no… uh… I’m not.”

“Then, what-”

“It finally made sense.” Eddie said quickly, his face bursting red, the vibrant crimson spreading to the tips of his ears, down the pale column of his neck. He watched, waited as Steve struggled to connect the dots, his shoulders slumping with relief as it dawned on him.

“No kidding?” Steve said, his smile beaming as he gave Eddie’s arm a brotherly shove. “When’d it happen?”

“The night of the Fling.” It seemed as though Eddie couldn’t wait to tell someone of how he felt, of how he’d fallen madly, unabashedly, unashamedly in love with Veronica. “We went out to Sattler’s Quarry and we… we danced together.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his face still aflame, his heart still beating as though ready to burst through his chest at any moment as he recalled that fateful night. “She was so… so close to me, and it felt like everything just fell into place, and… that’s when I knew.”

Steve gave his shoulder a squeeze, his grip solid, the warmth of his hand seeping through his jacket. “I’m happy for you, man.” he said, his smile genuine, if not a bit jealous. “So, when’re you going to tell her…?”

Eddie froze, his eyes wide, face going pale once more, his stomach dropping to the soles of his feet. “I-I’m not. I can’t.”

“Why the Hell can’t you?”

“I just can’t…!” Eddie pulled at his hair as he began to pace about the living room. “She’s, like, lightyears out of my league, man…! There’s no way… She’d never go for someone like me-”

“Why not?”

“What, like you honestly think she’d pick the freak?”

“Don’t call yourself that.” Steve’s tone turned harsh, chastising, and it made Eddie want to turn tail and run. “And - honest to God - I think she would pick you.” He laid his hands atop his hips, giving Eddie a look he’d seen him give to the younglings countless times before - it felt strange to be on the receiving end of it. “You’re better than most of the guys in this town for sure, and she doesn’t care what everyone thinks of you. That’s gotta mean something, right…?”

Eddie weighed his friend’s words in his mind, let them roll around, settle, his heart flipping in his chest as they slowly turned from opinions to… facts. Truths. “Yeah…?” he asked shyly, pulling a lock of hair over his mouth, his lip caught between his teeth as the possibility seemed more and more tangible - more real - with each passing moment. “You really think she would…?”

“She’d be crazy not to.”

Eddie nodded, the coiling tightness in his chest finally beginning to loosen. “Alright, let’s say - hypothetically speaking, of course - that she would pick me. How would I…?”

“Just tell her, straight up.”

Eddie choked on his own saliva. “And that’s worked for you?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Christ, I forgot you were King Steve…” Eddie pinched at the bridge of his nose, his eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed as he tried to think of some other way to hypothetically confess his feelings. “What else can I do?”

“Write her a poem!” Steve answered with a snap of his fingers. “Chicks dig that artsy-fartsy stuff.”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie answered quickly, adding, “And since when do you write poetry…?”

“Nevermind, then. How ‘bout a letter?”

Eddie shook his head. “Too cliché…”

“A song…?”

Eddie froze, the gears of his mind grinding, shifting into action - would that work? Could he do it? He was well-familiar with songwriting - Hell, he’d been writing his own songs ever since Wayne had given him his first guitar, all those years ago. He’d written more songs than he could remember - songs for Corroded Coffin, songs for himself, songs just for fun that went straight into the trash bin as his mind flooded with ideas for the next one.

But, could he write one for her…?

With a hopeful look, Eddie’s voice was quiet, still tender from the strength of his newfound infatuation as he asked Steve, “Y-You think that would work…?”

Before Steve could answer, Jeff burst through the front door, spooking the two men; in a loud voice, he called out, “Dude! It’s five ‘til midnight! The kids are all knocked out in the van…!”

“Shit, I-” Eddie gasped, looking between Steve and the door, brows furrowed in confusion, his mind torn on what to do, who to follow. “I have to go-”

“‘S fine, man.” Steve replies, his smile warm as he walks Eddie to the door. “Just let me know how it goes, alright?” he says, Eddie’s smile beaming as he says his goodnights and follows Jeff back to the van, giving his friend one last wave before driving the party back through the sleepy streets of Hawkins, already working through what apology he’d be concocting for their mothers.

From that fateful night, Eddie poured his soul into this newest endeavor, writing the perfect song for Veronica - and to say he’d become all but wholly obsessed with it was a gross understatement. Every waking moment, every iota of his attention, he spent thinking of melodies; crafting bridges and choruses and working out chord progressions that lilted and flowed with his heart’s deepest emotions, desperate to convey just how enamored he was with her, how she’d taken his still-beating heart into her neatly-manicured hands. It took him weeks of trial and error, of calluses atop calluses on his aching fingers, of hundreds of sheets of paper crumpled and discarded, to finally have something he was satisfied with. And, for days afterwards, he would lose himself in staring at his notebook, his chest fluttering, his hands itching to pick up his guitar and just play her the song.

But, he couldn’t.

He didn’t have the nerve.

So, Eddie did the next best thing he could think of - he recorded the song onto a cassette tape.

He’d had an entire scheme planned out, a game plan - he’d sneak out of class, make his way down the hall to where he knew she’d go after school, then take the cassette and stick it through the slats of her locker for her to find. Simple. Foolproof. Not a single margin for error…

Right…?

As Eddie snuck past yet another hall monitor, he felt a wild flush overwhelm him, the plastic cassette heavy in his pocket, branding his skin - he’d gotten away in-between classes; one more tardy wasn’t going to break him, would it? He didn’t care - he couldn’t care, not when every hair on hair on his body stood on end in eager, overwhelming anticipation. He tapped the side of his pants for the millionth time, the feeling grounding him, giving him courage. But, as he neared the final corner, he spotted movement.

Who else was skipping class…?

Leaning ever so slightly past the wall’s edge, Eddie felt the resolve he’s spent so long bolstering give out - collapse - from under him as he watched the sole object of his desires press herself against a row of lockers, smiling up at something Jason Carver had said to her; the man’s arm was braced over her head, his body leaned in close to hers as he spoke. From where he was standing, Eddie couldn’t hear what they were saying - and, with his crumbling heart, he didn’t think he could stomach it otherwise. He wanted to leave - to run, to hide - but he couldn’t bear to pull himself away. Veronica laughed again. Jason rolled his eyes. She shook her head. He toyed with the end of one of her silken braids between his fingers.

Eddie felt his gut roll.

All at once, irrepressibly, his age-old insecurities flooded into him, nearly sending him to his knees as he forced himself to look away, to save himself yet another twisting knife to the chest.

He was an idiot for doing this.

He was a fool for thinking she’d ever choose him.

He didn’t belong with her.

He never should have bothered.

His vision blurred, eyes aching with the familiar sting of bitter tears; he ignored the shouts of the monitor altogether as he shoved his way outside. With trembling hands dragging over his bleary face, he pulled himself into his van, peeling out of the school parking lot without a moment’s hesitation.

Once back at the trailer, he barely managed to cut the engine before practically spilling out of his van; he cursed his trembling hands as he fumbled once, twice, three times with his keys. He didn't bother checking if Wayne is home - he wasn't, the man out running errands, but Eddie wouldn’t have noticed either way, not with the way his thoughts spiraled, crushing and twisting into the nothingness he’d nearly forgotten about. He shoved the cassette - the damned cassette - into his desk drawer, slamming the thing shut with enough force to jam it, and he collapsed onto his bed, curling onto his side, a pillow pressed over his face as he desperately tried to muffle his cries.

He felt like a loser - like a freak.

Had he truly convinced himself that he’d be able to win her over with some silly song? The longer he’d allowed the thought to stew in his brain, to take root and choke out his hopes and aspirations like the hellish weed that it was, the more he believed it. He’d been wrong. Veronica didn’t need someone like him; she needed… anyone, but not him.

Never him.

Veronica shoved her bicycle over the final crest of Forest Hills, her arm threaded through the handle of a flimsy Melvald’s shopping bag as she maneuvered her way over the muddied half-paths and cavernous tire tracks that paved the way toward the Munson’s trailer; she’d asked around the group as to why Eddie was nowhere to be found, why he’d left school early - and the best answer she’d gotten was from Dustin, who remembered Eddie complaining about his lunch. As such, the bag was filled with whatever she could find that would soothe his supposed upset stomach - antacids, ginger ale, pretzels. Simple foods, things she knew he’d enjoy - or, at the very least, consume. Lord only knew what state she’d find him in - if she’d find him at all. It wasn't like him to just… skip class, especially if he'd already spent most of the day at school. What if something had happened to him? What he hadn't left by himself at all, and he’d called Wayne to his rescue? As her thoughts continued to sour, Veronica’s pace quickened in perfect time to her crumbling assurance in Eddie's condition.

She finally reached his front door, her face warmed to a pleasant pink; she tried to quell her labored breathing as she pressed the doorbell several times. “Munson…? Eddie!” she called out, pressing her ear to the cool steel of the door, desperate to hear something - a voice, a sound, anything. As she moved to ring the bell again, the door finally opened.

What happened to you?, Veronica's mind blared, her stomach dropping at the sight of Eddie in his wrinkled pajamas, his face red and puffy with sleep, his eyes… Sad? Hurt? She couldn't entirely place the emotion that flashed across his features at the sight of her, but he gave her a tired smile all the same, even if it was a bit weaker than usual.

“Christ, I nearly forgot you were comin’...” Eddie croaked, his voice strained; he stepped aside to let her through - and that's when he noticed the plastic bag. But, before he could think to ask about it, she'd pushed the bag into his chest, the familiar clunk of aluminum cans grating his ears, digging into his skin.

“Dustin told me you weren’t feeling well, said you complained about your lunch…” Veronica looked almost… bashful as she spoke to him, unnerved by the distant look in his eyes, at the way they seemed to somehow bore into her and ignore her altogether. “I… I picked you up a few things, to help with your stomach…”

If he hadn’t held his breath, crushed a few of the cans beneath his trembling grip, bitten the inside of his cheek until the sharp tang of iron filled his mouth, he surely would have unraveled under the overwhelming weight of Veronica’s kindness. He looked away, unable to both hold her emeraldine gaze and keep his welling tears at bay. It took him longer than he’d cared to admit to force a response through the tightness in his throat.

“T-Thanks…” He gave her a nod - only a nod, his face as somber as ever - and walked into the kitchen, pulling out the cans of soda and putting them into the fridge. Veronica remained by the door, her hands twisting with nervousness. Why wouldn’t he tell her the truth?

“Look, i-if… if you want to skip for today, it’s-”

Eddie’s head shot out from around the corner. “No, it’s okay…! I’m just…” He scrubbed a hand down his face, bit his lip to hide the way it quivered. “I’m just… tired. I can handle it, sweetheart.” And, hoping to reassure someone - whether it be her or himself, he didn’t know - he added with a gentle grin, “I’ll survive, it’s fine.”

With a clear hesitancy, Veronica sat at the kitchen counter, slowly pulling out her notebooks. “You’re sure…?”

Eddie nodded, his voice betraying him.

Had it been any other day - had they been under any other circumstance, in any other situation - the tutoring session would have been average. Normal. Uneventful. Eddie slipped into the role of the attentive pupil with ease, the mellow flow of Veronica’s voice lulling him into the peace he craved, only for his mind to wrench him back into nothingness. He'd finished his work, reviewed for an upcoming test; he'd even gotten a head start on a few upcoming assignments - all in all, it would have been a productive afternoon, had Eddie not looked so miserable.

When she insisted she take her bicycle home, Eddie felt her words like smoke in his lungs - burning, choking him. He didn't even look at her as he pulled the hunk of metal into the back of his van. “Get in.” His voice was curt, sharp - not that he’d intended it to be, but with emotions having teetered over the edge for hours, he couldn’t make himself sound like anything but. Veronica, again, gave him a worried look, yet she complied nonetheless, climbing into the passenger’s seat.

The ride was silent, Eddie not even bothering to turn on the radio. Had it always taken so long to get to her house? Had she always lived so far away? Veronica sunk into her seat, her fingers pulling at a loose string at the hem of her skirt, her chest tight with a disappointment she neither wanted nor understood.

Eddie was too lost in his own thoughts to notice much of anything beyond what was in front of him. His hands trembled as they gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled in his effort to appear as calm as possible. But, an aching question branded itself in his mind, his tongue itching to ask, but his heart terrified of the answer.

What did Jason say to you?

The universe, merciful nearly to a fault, decided to put Eddie out of his misery much sooner than he’d anticipated.

“So… Jason talked to me today.”

Eddie swallowed against the lump in his throat. “W-What’d he say…?”

Veronica seemed to perk up ever so slightly, while Eddie continued to sink. “He invited me to a party this Saturday-”

“Don't tell me you’re actually going.”

Veronica paused, confused by the vitriol painting his words. “Would it be a problem if I did…?”

Eddie dragged a hand through his wild hair, his voice careening toward agony as he shouted, “Jason's an asshole! You're not going to that party!”

“Excuse me?” Veronica struggled to keep herself calm - where was this all coming from? “Eddie, I'll go if I want to.”

“Perfect. Just great.” His head fell to the steering wheel, and he groaned, hands pressed over his face as his shoulders began to quake - just the thought that Veronica was entertaining the idea of going to Carver's stupid party was enough to crush what was left of his resolve. “I can’t believe you're dumb enough to even consider-”

No.

He hadn’t meant to say that.

She wasn’t one of the guys - not that that was any excuse. And even then, he wouldn’t say something so hurtful.

But, he was hurt, and he’d let his pain bleed into her before he’d even realized it had overflowed.

He hadn’t finished his sentence, but he didn’t have to - just the stricken look in her eyes was enough to drown him in his own guilt. Her response to him was a nod - a single nod - before exiting the van and pulling her bicycle from the back.

She didn’t wave goodbye once she’d reached her door, not that he’d stuck around long enough to notice, his van peeling down the road before she'd barely made it halfway up the lawn.

“I’m so glad you decided to come.”

Veronica’s smile was detached, perfunctory, uncomfortable as her plastic cup crinkled and cracked in her tightening grip. Was it the fourth time Jason had said that to her? Maybe the fifth? Between the blaring music and the dizzying stench of alcohol wafting from his open mouth, she couldn’t remember. This… party, if one could call it that, wasn’t what she’d been expecting; this wasn’t what Jason had convinced her of.

She could barely hear him over the buzzing in her ears; he leaned in close to her, whatever ungodly concoction of booze he'd mixed into his cup sloshing onto her skirt. The feeling of his mouth so close to her made her shiver, the hairs along the back of her neck standing on end; something about the lilting slur in his voice sent her skin crawling. She felt his calloused hands brush over the smoothness of her pantyhose, sliding over her knee before moving upwards - she pulled them away, but they returned, even higher up her thigh than before.

“J-Jason, c'mon… Quit it-”

He ignored her, body heavy as he leaned his weight nearly fully against her, crushing her into the couch. She grit her teeth against the rumbling music, somehow louder than before, and all but writhed as his hands continue their unwelcome exploration.

“Jason, enough-”

And, suddenly, pain-

“What the Hell are you doing?” Veronica shouted, her hands shoving desperately at his chest, forcing a much-needed distance between them - he’d bitten her! He’d actually bitten her! Anger and revulsion coiled around her chest, swelled in her throat as she pressed a hand over her stinging wound, checking to see if he’d broken through the skin. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you didn’t want it.” the man sneered, rolling his eyes as he leaned in for a second go at it, only to be roughly rejected with another shove to the chest. “Don’t get all prissy with me - I can tell you’ve been begging for it.”

His words made her want to gag. “You’re disgusting-” She rose from her seat, but he pulled her back down, his force excessive, his senses blurred by how much he’d had to drink.

“I bet you like it when he does it to you.”

Veronica gave an exasperated groan in response, shaking her head, a vivid flush rising up her face. “When who does it to me? Who are you talking about?”

“Munson.”

“Eddie’s not doing anything to me…!”

“He’s not?” Jason's laugh was cold, the grip he’d kept around her arm tightening. “God, he’s more of a loser than I thought.”

“What are you even talking about-”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Veronica - I saw you leave with him the night of the Fling.”

She blinked at him, eyes wide as she struggled to see the connecting points in their conversation. “What the Hell does that have to do with anything? Eddie was my date! Why wouldn’t I leave with him?”

“We all know what you did - nobody ever leaves that early.”

And Veronica froze, her face draining to a pale sheet of white. She tried to yank her arm free, but to no avail. “...What exactly do you think we did?”

“You know damn well what you did with him.” Jason’s words turned honeyed-sweet, the low timbre in his voice making her shiver in pure revulsion. “C'mon, show me... He couldn’t have been good.”

“Let me go. I'm leaving.” Veronica wrenched herself away, rising off the couch - but she wasn’t fast enough.

“Hey, hey, hey… Don't be like that, baby…” he whispered, rising with her, pulling her close against him. “I promise I'll show you a better time than the freak…”

“Don't call him that.” Her voice turned icy, rigid as she gave her arm yet another sharp tug, her gaze chilling as she stared at him. “Jason, you're hurting me.”

He ignored her, plowing forward. “Why not? Everybody knows he's a freak. What else am I supposed to call him?”

Another tug, this one hard enough to knock him forward a half-step. “Jason, I'm warning you - stop calling Eddie that.” Veronica looked around, only to be met with dozens of averted gazes - it made her sick. “Let me go…!”

Jason howled in laughter, his head thrown back, shoulders trembling. “What, has the freak gotten himself a little girlfriend-”

It happened in a flash, Veronica’s fist connecting with Jason's smug face, the echoing crunch of bone striking bone enough to send a wave of silence flowing through the room. Jason reeled in anguish, stumbling back, blood pouring from both nostrils as he reached out for anything to catch himself on, to steady himself with. Blindly, his hand found purchase on the frilled front of her blouse, tearing it as his deadweight body crashed to the floor - he was unconscious, passed out, dead to the world as a few people hesitantly moved to his aid.

Tears blurred her vision as Veronica stepped away, her fist already purpling, her knuckles swelling and bloody from where she’d scraped them on Jason’s teeth. The crowd seemed to part as she rushed toward the door, clutching the tattered remains of her blouse together - she didn't know where she was, where she was going. But, taking in as deep - as calming - a breath as she could muster, she did the only thing she could think to do.

She walked.

Everyone could tell he was miserable.

“What happened to him…?” Nancy not-so-subtly whispered to Steve, the pair watching from across his living room as Eddie continued to sulk, arms crossed tight over his chest as he sunk into the plush couch - it had taken Steve hours of convincing to get Eddie to come to his movie night, only for the man to act like this - dejected, depressed, snappish and disconnected. “Do something, Steve.”

“Yeah, do something, Steve.” Robin chimed in, carrying with her a large bowl of popcorn. “You're a dude. Talk to him. Who knows - maybe he's finally having that existential crisis…?”

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes, the two women watching him expectantly, awaiting his answer. “Fine. I'll talk to him-”

“I can hear all of you!” Eddie bellowed, turning himself to glare at the trio.

“Great!” Steve shouted back. “Get your moody ass off my sofa - I need help bringin’ in the sodas from the garage.”

The pair walked out through the kitchen doors, Eddie bitterly quiet as he skulked behind Steve, hands shoved into his pockets, sneakers trudging through the dewy lawn; abruptly, Steve stopped, turning around and placing a hand on Eddie's shoulder - the sodas were an excuse to get him alone.

“Eds, what's going on?” Steve asked, his gaze warm with concern for his friend, and it didn’t take much to break through Eddie’s resolve.

“She won’t love me, Steve.” His voice was so small, so broken, it took Steve a moment to process what he'd said.

“W-What…?” He blinked, struggling to make sense of his words. “You mean Veronica…?” Eddie nodded, lip caught between his teeth - he couldn’t bring himself to look at Steve, not wanting the man to see the way his face burned red, eyes filled nearly to the point of overflow with unshed tears.

“You wrote her a song, right? She didn’t like it…?” Steve asked, confused as to what had happened, where things went wrong.

And Eddie replied, “I didn’t give her the song.”

“Why not?”

“Because she won’t love me…!” Eddie repeated, chest heaving as he forced himself to keep breathing, the rhythm of his heartbeat thrumming through his veins a welcome distraction from the way his throat began to ache.

Steve shook his head, a look of pure confusion painted broadly across his features. “How can you be sure she won’t-”

“She won’t ever fucking love me because I don't fit with her…!”

The metalhead’s shout was loud enough to scare the birds overhead into flight, his voice carrying through the empty forest, settling among the trees. Steve took a step forward, and Eddie took one back, arms wrapped tightly around himself.

“E-Eddie…”

“She doesn’t need a freak, she needs… Shit, she needs anybody but me.” Steve hadn’t missed the way his voice had begun to crack, wavering with his heated emotions. Heartbreakingly softly - so much so that Steve nearly missed it altogether - he added, “How’d I ever think I had a chance...?”

Bless his heart, Steve continued to search for the silver lining through the clouds. “Look, maybe… maybe she just needs some time, y’know? Give her some space-”

“You didn’t see what I saw, dude…” Eddie's hands trembled as he pulled them down his face, his eyes tired, his body all too weary for one so young. “Carver was all over her, a-and she was smiling at him, and-”

“Jason Carver? Why was she with him?” Steve couldn’t believe it - in every sense, Jason and Veronica were polar opposites. Why in Heaven's name would she go for him, of all people? “Look, man - you seriously can’t think that she’d pick Jason-”

“Whatever. She’s at his dumb party and I’m here, aren’t I...?”

Steve felt his stomach go cold. “Ed-”

“No, just... just drop it.” Eddie let out a sigh, hands shoved back into his pockets. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie pushed himself away, his strides long, shoulders hunched forward as he made his way back into the house, leaving Steve alone.

How had everything soured so quickly…?

With a heavy sigh, the jock walked back inside; he pulled several bottles of soda from the freezer, setting them to thaw in the fridge as he heard the phone sound off. With his hands full, he didn't think much of letting the line ring… But, then it rang again, and again, and again… Who in the world could be calling him so much?

In the living room, Eddie'd sunk back into the couch, nearly ready to continue his pitiful wallowing when Steve's voice shouted from the kitchen, "Ed! Call's for you…!"

With a groan, Eddie walked back into the kitchen, and took the phone from Steve, the plastic receiver cold against his ear. “Hello…?”

“H-Hey, Eddie…?” His mouth went dry, his arms heavy, knees weak. “It’s… It’s me.”

“Veronica?”

Why would she be calling him - and how had she known he'd be at Steve's? Had she tried calling the trailer? How long had she been trying to reach him…?

“How’s… uh… How’s the party?” Eddie groaned softly, dragging a hand over his face. Couldn't he think of anything better to say…?

“I'm not at the party.”

She sounded… scared.

“...You’re not at Carver’s…?”

He barely felt himself breathe - why was she scared?

“I-I was there, but not… not anymore-”

His stomach lurched.

“Veronica, where are you?”

He was almost afraid to know.

“The Speedway on… Mulholland and C-Cherry…?”

“He drop you off there?”

“No, I walked-”

“You walked?” His voice boomed through the empty kitchen, rattling in his chest, a hot wave of panic washing over him - he'd dealt in Carver's neighborhood before, knew his way around. That particular part of Hawkins wasn't the safest, especially for a young woman walking alone, and that gas station was a good half-hour's drive from where Jason lived. “Veronica, what the Hell-”

“Eds, could you just…! Could you come get me…?” Her voice was thin, tinny through the phone's miniscule speaker. Still, it was enough for him to hear how it trembled; tears stung at his eyes at the sound of it, but he shoved those feelings deep into the recesses of his mind. “Please…?”

He needed to stay calm, to clear his head - if not for his own sake, then certainly for hers. “Y-Yeah, of course, sweetheart, I'm… I’m on my way, alright?”

She hung up first, and the low hum of the dropped line made him nauseous, and it took him a moment to remember how to move.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Robin shouted, the trio watching in confusion as Eddie barreled into the living room, grabbing his jacket, checking for his keys. “Where’re you goin’-”

“Veronica needs a ride.”

“Is she still at that party?” Steve couldn't help but ask.

“Nope.” And Eddie was gone.

He couldn't have driven any faster, his foot pressed flush to the rusted floor of his van, making record time across Hawkins to reach Jason's neighborhood. His palms dripped with nervous perspiration, his face pale, eyes wide, leg bouncing as he circled the gas station, desperate for any sign of Veronica. Was she still there? Had something happened to her? Was he too late…?

He found her huddled against the side of a payphone, hands tucked into her blouse. Was it… ripped? He didn't even need to honk; she recognized his approach by sound alone, bounding toward his van before he'd even gotten a chance to stop, shivering from an abrupt and violent drop in adrenaline as she pulled herself into the passenger's seat. Reaching over, he hesitated, stopped for a beat before wrapping his jacket around her shoulders. She still hadn't looked at him.

"Your place…?" Eddie asked, though he already knew her answer - she shook her head, pulled his jacket closer, tighter around herself. He swallowed, his words coming through on a sigh. "You want to come back with me to Steve's…?"

She gave him the slightest of nods. "...Y-Yes, please." He'd never heard her sound so… small.

The entire drive back to Loch Nora, Eddie was watching her. At every slow turn, every red light, he stole glances at her, something in him needing to make sure she was alright; she hadn't made a sound, hadn't moved so much as an inch, and he found himself afraid for her.

What happened at the party?

Pulling up into Steve's driveway, Eddie was quick to hop off the van, making his way over to help Veronica out.

She was still shaking.

He'd never have known it, but the hand he'd kept at the small of her back as they made their way inside felt like a saving grace to her, a Godsent reminder that she was safe; she all but melted against him as they walked past the living room, feeling the trio's curious looks trail them upstairs.

He led her to the guest room; rummaging through the dresser, he pulled out a pair of Robin's pajamas - because of course, Buckley would leave her clothes at Steve's - and held them out to her.

She'd stayed by the door, her gaze to the floor, her right hand firmly tucked away, hidden underneath the palm of her left. Taking in a steadying breath, he slowly approached her, his hand tender as he brushed a stray lock away from her pale cheek, and she gasped, her eyes flashing with fear as though she'd forgotten where she was.

"Go get changed." He'd kept his tone low, gentle, and she nodded as she took the bundle from him, her right hand still out of sight as she scurried off to the en-suite bathroom.

Once he'd heard the soft clicking of the lock, Eddie fell back onto the bed with a groan.

What happened at the party?

He could hear the shower running, the soft screeching of the plastic curtain being pulled aside; he tried to calm himself down, to think of what to say, what to ask, what to do. The droning of the shower filled the room around him, but his thoughts were dominated by her; he barely noticed the curtain scrape again, the water shutting off, the door creaking open - only when Veronica sat beside him, still flushed from her shower, did he sit back up, giving her his undivided attention.

She'd pulled her hair into a braid; sweeping it over her shoulder, and he swallowed down the bile rising up his throat at the unmistakable sight of a blooming, angry bruise. She felt his gaze on her - on the spot where Jason had bitten her - and her hand shot up to cover the mark.

She'd used her right hand - the wrong hand.

Eddie stared at her swollen knuckles, at the bloody scratches littering the top of her hand, her skin painted in grotesque shades of purple and green. Slowly - ever so slowly - he reached for her, fingers trailing over the scraped peaks and valleys, his heart tight as he gently pulled it onto his lap, his gaze tracing paths over the blushed, broken softness.

"Tell me what happened."

Veronica fought desperately against the tears stinging her eyes, the clenching of her chest, the quivering of her lip as she tried to keep thinking - keep breathing; she barely managed to settle her raging thoughts enough to pull an answer from the storm.

"He called you a freak." Her voice was soft, yet strikingly clear. "I broke his nose."

Of all the things, all the answers, she could have given him… Eddie's chocolate eyes shot up to meet her own, searching for some sort of reason, an explanation as to what could have possessed her to do such a thing.

Why had she stood up for him? Gotten hurt for him?

He brought his face down, nearly falling forward as he pressed her limp hand to his lips, kissing each throbbing knuckle as his whispered thanks fanned over her skin, soothing away the pain. He heard her suck in a breath; pulling away, he watched as she began to crumble, her eyes welling with moisture, her face both white and wildly aflame.

Eddie moved before he could think of what he was doing, what this could mean for them - for him.

He pulled her into his arms, his embrace tight and solid and real; she sank into him, drowning in the warm expanse of his chest, her pace pressed to his shoulder as her breathing began to hitch, the sound weak and pitifully wet. She couldn't bear to look at him.

"Veronica-"

"Y-You were… Jason, he-" she hiccupped, bringing her hand back up to press against her neck, her body beginning to tremble again. Eddie held her tighter. "He didn't… H-He wasn't-"

Eddie felt her tears soak into his shoulder, scalding as they trailed over his skin. His hands smoothed over her back, his voice barely a whisper as he said, "Hey, you're okay… It's alright-"

"I-It's not…!" Veronica cried, her voice breaking as she began to weep. "It's not - I'm not…! You were right-"

"No! No, we are not doing that!" Eddie pulled her away by the shoulders, urging her gaze to his. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. You're your own person - I had no right to tell you-"

"But you were right."

His calloused hands moved to hold her face, his thumbs tenderly wiping away her cascade of tears; she leaned into his touch, pressing herself against the soft padding of his palm, her uninjured hand rising to interlace with his - and they remained in that position for longer than either realized, as they craved, ached for one another with an intensity neither truly understood.

"Are we okay…?"

Eddie gave her a gentle grin. "You tell me, sweetheart." he whispered, his hands falling away. "Think you can go two for two…?"

Veronica let out a watery laugh, her hand scrubbing over her eyes as she replied, "I shall grant thee my forgiveness, o' lowly knight."

Eddie couldn't help his boyish smile, the way his chest fluttered, the color rising up his neck at her words. He hopped off the bed, bending into as regal a bow as he could muster, hands extended wide as he asked, "Shall we, princess?"

Veronica giggled as she took his hand.

Together, the pair walked back downstairs - and, to their surprise, the trio had been waiting for them to start the movie. Steve's eyes went wide as he saw Eddie and Veronica together; he gave his friend a curious look, which Eddie replied to with a shake of his head and a subtle shrug of his shoulders.

"Sorry for borrowing your clothes, Robin…" Veronica said quietly, sitting at one end of the soft couch, Eddie sprawled out on the other. Robin waved her hand around, all but shouting that it wasn't an issue.

"I pretty much live here now - I've got clothes all over the place!" She said with a grin; Nancy laughed at her comment, but Steve just shook his head and sighed, lifting the remote toward the television to start the film…

The movie was a slasher fic, the trio instantly engrossed in the horror and gore. But, atop the couch, Veronica and Eddie inched toward one another, slowly moving… shifting, until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Somewhere between the main heroine getting stabbed and the main suspect being cleared of all suspicion, Eddie leaned in close to her, whispering against her ear,

"Does it still hurt…?" He reached for her hand, still swollen and warm, his touch soft as he traced over it.

She moved even closer to him, replying,

"Y-Yeah, a little… Not as much as it did, though…"

Eddie couldn't help but frown. "I'm sorry-"

"'S not your fault, Eds-"

"Still… You shouldn't be getting hurt over me."

Veronica smiled at him, her verdant eyes catching the light of the massive television. "What, the princess can't be a knight, too?"

He'd had no choice but to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too broadly, to duck his head away to keep her from seeing how vividly he blushed at her words.

He didn't let go of her hand. She didn't want him to.

And, by the end of it all, once the movie had finished and the living room lights had been restored, no one dared disturb the pair as they slept, leaned up against one another, their hands still clasped together.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine @kaitebugg03 @enchante-em

#becca.fic #ride the lightning #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x original female character #stranger things fic #CHAPTER 11 IS HERE #APOLOGIES FOR THE WAIT I WAS TRYING NOT TO DIE FROM HAVING TO FINISH MY SEMESTER

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becca-alexa · 1 year

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Six: Too Fast for Love

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Eddie can't keep his thoughts straight from his feelings, and he goes to Steve for advice. What will he say?

Word Count: 2.6K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: shorter chapter this time! we're getting a look into Eddie's side of things -- promise we'll get Veronica's side somewhere!!

and THANK YOU to @rollforhellfire for reading this -- i literally do now know what i would be doing without you at this point your comments are everything and i wish you every happiness this universe can give <3333

Eddie thrust himself upright, chest heaving, searing, his body all but dripping in perspiration as a wrenching scream died somewhere within the cotton-dry tightness of his throat. He’d tried to swallow, nearly choked for air, swearing his heart was moments away from tearing its way through his chest. He dragged both hands through his sleep-tangled hair, trembling as they settled at the back of his head, squeezing, pinching in their effort to settle him, ground him from whatever utter freefall he’d awoken from.

He felt as though he’d been burned, suffocated, electrified, reduced to ashes and blown away with the passing breeze. He could feel his skin crawl, a shiver raking its way up his spine, settling in the fine hairs at the nape of his neck before working its way back down his body.

His gaze darted to the door, and he fell back onto his aging mattress with a sigh of pure relief - he’d remembered to close it.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he tore the blanket away, kicking it aside as he jumped to his feet, still shaking as he gathered whatever clothes were within arm’s reach before tearing his way toward the bathroom. Was his uncle awake? Could he have heard something? God, he hoped not. The suffocating haze of Eddie’s thoughts slowly began to clear, leaving in its wake an even more agonizing slew of questions. Desperate to clear his mind - to forget, to return to the normalcy he’d had mere hours before - he pulled away his clothes, stepping into the cascading stream to take the most frigid shower of his life, welcoming the shivers over the suffocating heat steaming over his skin.

And, barely an hour afterward, Eddie had driven himself to Steve Harrington’s house with the speed and havoc-induced mayhem of a man nearing insanity, and he pounded his fist against the door, the thought of simply ringing the doorbell lost on him.

“Munson? What the Hell, man?” Steve threw open his front door with enough force to rattle the frame, his voice clipped and quiet - but, before he could continue his flurry of complaints, Eddie had pushed himself into his home, pacing around the living room, hands wild as he spoke, Steve left scrambling to make sense of his verbal vomit.

“Eddie-”

“I swear to God, Steve - I’m losing it…!” Eddie shouted; whether he was aware - or even cared - that it was 7:15 in the morning remained to be seen.

Steve felt himself getting lightheaded as he tried to follow the man’s movements through his living room, rapid and crazed - it was way too early for this. “Dude, calm down-”

Eddie froze, his steps jarring to a halt, turning himself bodily to stare at Steve, jaw slack and hanging. “Calm… down?” His voice was low, strained, nearly painful in its control before devolving into a panic. “Calm down? Harrington, I am having a crisis of Biblical proportions and you’re telling me to calm down?”

Somewhere between Eddie dragging his hands over his face and pulling at the ends of his hair for what Steve swore had to be the umpteenth time, Dustin trudged his way down the staircase, rubbing the lingering traces of sleep from his eyes as he moved to stand beside Steve, the pair still struggling to follow Eddie’s erratic behavior.

“What’s going on?” the younger boy asked, his question trailing off into a yawn. Steve shrugged his shoulders, arms crossing atop his chest.

“I don’t know, he’s freakin’ out about the Bible or something-”

At his voice, Eddie’s head snapped toward them; a raving, desperate type of smile stretching across his face, as though he’d been walking aimlessly through a desert and Dustin had led him to an oasis. “Henderson!” he shouted, nearly falling to his knees in sheer relief. “Finally, someone with experience…!”

Despite still being in the dark, Steve couldn’t help but feel offended. “Hey, what’s that supposed to-”

Eddie ignored him. “I get dizzy when she talks, and… and I can’t stop thinking about her…!” He tried to keep his breathing even, steady, his last remaining bit of rationale preventing him from hyperventilating altogether. “I can barely keep it together when she’s around, and I’m miserable when she’s not…!

Steve leaned in close to Dustin, whispering through Eddie’s prattling, “Who’re we talking about?”

And Dustin whispered in response, “I think it’s about Veronica.”, snorting back a laugh as Steve’s eyes went wide, mouth hung open, his eyes moving back to the man of the hour.

“Oh.”

Eddie continued on. “The inside of my van smells like her perfume.” he said, voice accusatory, quaking as though the thought of having the vehicle in question smell of anything other than weed and cheap cologne was an affront to God. “I’ve called her so many times, I could dial her number in my sleep. I bought new sheets for my bed because she sat there to do homework. Once. And now I’m having dreams-” He stopped, visibly shuddering at something none of them completely understood. “What the Hell’s wrong with me?”

Steve could only stare, struggling to process what he’d just heard.

With a shriek, Eddie exclaimed, “Steve…!”

“Alright, Munson! Cool it!” Steve shouted back, voice booming, somehow settling Eddie down enough to quit his infernal pacing; he bit at his fingernail, his patience worn thin, and he could barely keep himself from drowning in his fluttering anxiety as he awaited Steve’s answer. “So, you think about her all the time?”

Eddie nodded furiously, his hair swaying about his shoulders. “I can’t not think about her. It’s like she’s burrowed into my brain or something.”

Steve made a face of disgust. “I don’t need the visuals, man.” he said with a groan, shaking off the mental image of wriggling vines before continuing, “And you miss her when she’s not around?”

“Yep.” Again, Eddie nodded. “I… I get all itchy, y’know? Like, my skin starts to crawl and I just need to see her.”

“You miss her right now?”

It felt as though the very air had been torn from his lungs, his mind wiped clean of any coherent thought aside from the glaringly obvious. Once, twice, three times he’d tried to speak, but his mouth only opened and closed in silence. He cleared his throat, pushing out his voice past chapped lips. “Yeah, I… I do.”

Steve nodded his head, as though finally understanding where Eddie’s desperation was coming from. “And her voice…?”

“It makes him dizzy, dude.” Dustin chimed in, giving the older man a nudge with his elbow. “He said that part first.”

“Dizzy, how?”

Eddie swallowed. “As if I can’t focus on anything but her.” As he spoke, he pulled at the tips of his fingers, desperate to distract himself. “I-It makes my head spin and my stomach gets all weird.” His worried gaze darted between the two of them, his words heavy and lingering, and he couldn't help but assume the worst at their shared silence. “Am I gettin' sick or something?”

“Uh-huh.” tutted Steve, shifting himself onto his leg, arms crossed, his brow raised in keen understanding. “Interesting.”

The older man bristled at the goad, his eyes narrowing, jaw tensing as he clenched his fists at his sides, knuckles white, skin paling. “This is no time to be cryptic, Harrington.” Eddie hissed, his words forced through clenched teeth, hollow and blunt. “What do you mean?”

Steve turned and gave Dustin a look, and bit back his grin as the realization dawned over him, the boy’s face stretching into a smile so broad and beaming, it bordered on painful.

“You have a crush.” His voice, hushed with amazement, quickly collapsed into a shout. “Dude, you totally have a crush on Veronica…!”

Eddie halted, his whirlwind of emotions suddenly calming, doe eyes wide as his gaze fell onto nothing in particular, unfocused and distant as Dustin's words echoed through his mind. He shook his head, and his voice came out softer, weaker than any of them could have anticipated. “No, I… I don't.”

But Dustin was insistent. “You do! You're crazy about her!” he shrieked, bouncing atop the balls of his feet. “I knew you liked her - I knew it!”

Eddie kept shaking his head, hands beginning to tremble as he shoved them deep into the pockets of his jacket. “I don’t…!” he exclaimed, his words louder, tinged with panic and disbelief. “I don't like her!” He’d reached for Dustin - purely to make the kid shut up - but he’d missed, sending him into a fit of giggles as he continued on with his taunting.

“You like her, you like her! You like Veronica!”

And Steve watched on, relishing the tomato-red flush of Eddie’s face before grabbing the younger boy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to his side.

“Y’know what, Munson? You're right.” Clear as day, his voice broke through Dustin’s revelry; he took a step toward Eddie, eyes affixed to his face, arms still loosely crossed over his chest. “You don't like her.”

“Thank y-”

“You love her.”

Eddie felt his pulse drop, felt the color drain from his face as the room began to tilt, his legs gelatin as he locked his knees to keep himself standing. Love? Why was he talking about love? As the word - that damned word - carved itself into his mind, settled, took root and blossomed, Eddie realized he couldn’t deny it.

He could deny liking her with every fiber of his being - the word felt intrusive, the sentiment wrong. Sure, there were things he liked about her - several things, innumerable things, things he’d often catch himself daydreaming and losing himself in his thoughts about - yet none reflected the meaning Dustin insisted on.

But he couldn’t deny loving her, whatever that meant.

“I’m not… I-I don’t-” Eddie stammered, his mouth refusing to cooperate, his voice unconvincing and hollow; he took a step back, moving further into the house, his breathing labored as he tried to think, to work through the blaring sirens in his head. Eventually, he’d broken himself away from them, and before they could think to stop him, he’d retreated out the back door, his mumbled excuse of “I need a smoke” doing little to convince them that he was alright. Giving the boy a sharp look, Steve followed him out.

“Eddie?” Steve called after him, finding him leaning against the side of his home, hands shaking as he searched his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. “You good, man?”

“M’fine.” He didn’t look at him as he spoke, didn’t lift his head from where he’d tucked it into his chest, hand cupped over his mouth as he struggled to get his lighter to work against the chilling wind.

For a while, things were quiet; neither spoke - neither wanted to speak - but Steve knew better than to let things settle as they were.

“You worried she won’t like you back?”

Eddie shook his head. “‘S not that, it’s…” He kicked at his feet, cigarette hanging between his lips as he let out a heavy, tired breath. “I’m not like you, Steve. Chicks haven’t exactly been flocking under my open wings, y’know?”

“C’mon, Munson, it’s not like that-”

“It is, though.” His words were rushed, nervous, eyes wide and searching as he turned to look at Steve, shoulders hunched against the cold. “You’ve never had a problem getting dates. Hell, girls want to go out with you - the only time I can get a girl near me is if she’s lookin’ to buy.”

“Eddie…”

“Veronica’s not… She’s different. She’s nice a-and funny and she smiles when she talks to me, and…” His breathing was uneven, and he shook his head again, nearly crushing his cigarette between tight fingers as he pulled it out of his mouth. “Hard to believe, but that doesn’t happen much.” After a breath, he added in a quiet voice, “Doesn’t happen at all.”

“So, you don’t-”

“It’s not that I don’t, it’s…” He dragged a hand through his hair, rough as it snagged in a tangle, and he pressed the warmth of his palm into the back of his neck. “How’m I supposed to know I’m in love if I’ve never felt it before?”

The words hung between them, latent and strong, and it took Steve longer than he’d care to admit to gather his thoughts.

“Ever had a girlfriend?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer; Eddie gave a noncommittal look, shrugging as he turned back against the side of the house. “So you’re still…?”

“Christ, Steve, really?” Eddie exploded, face sweltering with embarrassment as he pelted what was left of his cigarette to the ground, snubbing it out with his foot. “I’m two steps away from havin’ a Goddamn panic attack and that’s what you want to know?” He shoved his hands back into his pockets, and bit at the inside of his mouth, a sour frown on his face as he mumbled, “Don’t make it sound gross, dude.”

“I’m not, it’s just…” Steve scrambled to explain himself, tripping over his words. “I’m surprised.”

“What, that I’m a freak and a virgin?”

He bristled at the insinuation. “I never said that.”

And Eddie spat back, “Didn’t have to.”

Another silence, another cold breeze, another rustling of graying trees against a gray sky. “Look, if you want my advice - and I mean real advice, not whatever crap the kids’ll tell you - take it slow.” Eddie turned back toward his friend, his curiosity besting him; Steve kept his eyes glued to the ground - it wasn’t easy, whatever he was trying to say. He rolled his shoulders, kicked at a stone, took in a breath before continuing. “When I was with Nance, I… I took things too fast. Too hard, y’know?” His eyes looked sad, gleaming at a memory long since passed. “It wasn’t good for either of us. In the end… I drove her away.”

“Pushed her to Byers?” Eddie asked, having only heard bits and pieces from the others about the breakup.

Steve turned to look at him, replying in a wistful tone of voice, “Yeah, exactly.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, distantly regretting not having grabbed his coat before chasing after Eddie. “I wasn’t thinking about her. Hell, I wasn’t thinking at all.” And, with a hand clamped to the man’s shoulder, he continued, “Take it from me, man - decide what you want before you start making moves. If you want to just be friends, cool - but if you want something more, figure it out for yourself before you drag her into it.” He nodded, hand falling back to his side, arms crossing over his chest. “Save you both the heartache.”

“Steve-”

“And if Dustin tries giving you pointers, ignore him.” he added quickly, pointing a finger at the man’s face. “I swear to God, if I have to listen to one more story about some phone call he had with Suzie, I’ll go bananas.”

“Steve!” Speaking of the Devil, Dustin shouted for him, half-draped over the open glass door, phone held out in his hand, the coiled cord stretched nearly to tearing. “Call for you!” With a nod, he turned to go back inside, but was stopped by a hand pulling at his wrist.

“Hey… uh… How will I know I’m… y’know?” Eddie asked, face still tinged pink - whether from the cold or from their conversation, he couldn’t tell. Steve bit back a smile, and shook his head.

“You just will, man.” he said smoothly - because of course he would. “It’ll all just fall into place, and… and loving her will just make sense.”

“Steve!”

“Gimme a minute, Henderson!” he shouted back, letting out a heavy sigh. “Just think about it, alright? You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Eddie didn’t know how long he’d stayed outside after Steve had left him, how many cigarettes he’d lit that burned down to nothing in his fingers, or how many times his train of thought had begun and ended with Veronica.

Tag List

@lulukings92

#ride the lightning #becca.fic #i thought dustin was annoying on the show and that absolutely will carry on into this fic #also i was going to put in a chernobyl reference in place of the Biblical bit but according to my imaginary timeline this is too early #i know where i am in this we are somewhere in december '85/january '86 by this point probably #also SOMEONE ASKED TO BE TAGGED????I HAVE A TAGLIST NOW????????#wowowowowowowowow i feel so legit now for having one :O #and yeah our boy had a dream about his girl and lost his shit over it #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x original female character #stranger things

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becca-alexa · 4 months

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Thirteen: This Charming Man

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Veronica goes to a slumber party! What will she tell the girls?

Word Count: 3.5K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: I AM BACK AND WRITING AGAIN

With a screeched exclamation that nearly rattled them, Robin was the first to exclaim, “No way...!”, her hands pressed over her mouth in shock, eyes opened wide; the curlers set in her hair flounced about with her sudden movement, all while Nancy tried to keep her still.

“I heard she told him...” Nancy continued, leaning in toward the group as she shared the latest piece of gossip she’d picked up on Hawkins’ proverbial grapevine – something about one of the cheerleaders at school and a local grocery store manager.

“You’re kidding!”

“She’s with him?”

Magazine after brightly-printed magazine was strewn about the carpeted floor of Robin’s bedroom; blankets upon blankets upon blankets and the plushest of pillows piled high atop the bed as the conversation between the girls only grew wilder, livelier . Nancy sat alongside Erica on the floor, resting against the side of the bed frame as they dug through a beauty article in the latest issue of Teen Magazine. Robin and Max had moved across the room, fighting rather colorfully over which music cassette they should listen to next – they were at an impasse between Kate Bush and Tina Turner. And, seated atop the bed, Eleven sat quietly with Veronica’s silken hair between her slim fingers, smiling at the way it seemed to drip like spilled ink across her hands as she worked the locks into an intricate braid, one she had seen on a poster at the hair salon and was now trying to replicate.

Several topics were being thrown about, tested out, sampled and waded into the waters of their ongoing conversation – and, in every instance, every one of them had something to say, something to contribute, an opinion to add, anything.

And, throughout it all, Eleven was the first to notice that Veronica was silent.

Veronica had always been quiet, preferring to listen to their running veins of discussion and offer the occasional wise word – but, she was rarely ever silent.

The other girls, too far gone into their own little sugar-fueled realms and bubbles of gossip, took a moment longer to notice this uncharacteristic behavior of hers. In a sudden flash of movement, Robin pulled away from where she’d been standing with Max, tearing through her canvas bag, pulling out a selection of three video tapes for them to pick from.

“Alright, girlies – what are we watching?” Robin asked aloud, waving the cassette boxes in front of her chest like a poker player would a winning hand of cards. They all chimed in eagerly with their selections – all except for one, of course. Veronica barely looked up from where her head had been tilted toward her chest.

“Veronica?” Erica called out, turning toward her. “What do you think?”

“Hm...?” Mumbled the older girl, her braided hair still in Eleven’s hands. She gave a noncommittal shrug. “Whichever is fine.”

Nancy gave Robin an odd look, the other girls going quiet as they all looked at Veronica.

“Are you sure? We’re tied between Little Shop of Horrors and My Chauffeur.”

“Either one’s alright with me.” Veronica mumbled absently, her head still bowed. The girls all exchanged looks of concern; Robin crawled on her knees toward the edge of the bed, hoping to pull her friend out of whatever funk she seemed to be in. “What about this one?” She asked with a tone of hope in her voice, holding up a box for Labyrinth. “You told me you’d been dying to watch this!”

But Veronica was already too far gone into the haze of her own swirling thoughts. “Let’s go with that one, then.” She said, her shoulders falling ever so slightly.

“I’m thinking of shaving Nancy’s head later.” Erica blurts out, giving an understandably horrified Nancy a sharp look to keep quiet as they wait for Veronica’s response. And, as they all suspected, she barely gave much of an answer at all.

“That’s cool...” She sighed – and they all pounced.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Max asked roughly, grabbing Veronica by the shoulders and pushing her back, her head falling against Eleven behind her with the sudden movement. She blinked in surprise, her verdant gaze falling onto the rest of the group as her face turned a pretty shade of pink.

She shook her head in confusion. “W-What...?” She looked to them all for an answer, but was met with nothing but worried looks. “Nothing’s going on-“

“Bullshit.” Blurted Erica with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “You’ve been acting weird.”

“You’ve been talking about this month’s slumber party for days!” Robin exclaimed as she threw herself over the bed dramatically, her arms falling over her eyes. “You’re practically catatonic!”

“I am not-“

“You are!”

“You’ve been really quiet.” Eleven added softly, gently laying Veronica’s finished braid over her shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” Asked Nancy, taking the girl’s hands in her own, squeezing them warmly. “Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it...?”

Veronica shook her head. “N-No, nothing’s-“

“Either you tell us, or we start guessing.” Said Erica, smiling as Veronica’s girlish blush blossoms into a telltale crimson; the girls huddle together even closer, all of them somehow fitting onto Robin’s twin-size bed.

Robin was the first to ask, “Is this about Steve?”, and the girls waited with bated breath for Veronica’s answer – but, again, she shook her head.

Thinking for a moment, Nancy continued, “Is it Jason? Is he bothering you at school...?” They all look at Veronica again, but she just gives them a soft smile.

“He isn’t bothering me, Nance – not unless he wants another broken nose.”

They all go quiet once more, utterly befuddled as to what could have possibly left their friend in such a daze – that is, until Max remembers something.

“Is... Is this about Eddie?”

At the mention of his name, Veronica feels as though the very air has been pulled from her lungs, her face paling, her hands trembling; she pulled a pillow to her chest to try and conceal how much Max’s question had affected her, but they had all seen the way her eyes seemed to sparkle, the way the apples of her cheeks had turned just a bit redder. Her pulse beats like a drum in her ears as her hands fly up to cover her face – all while the girls erupt in a collective screech of excitement.

“No way!”

“You’ve got to be joking...!”

She tried in vain to calm them down. “G-Girls...”

“You are not serious.”

“Munson? You’re a mess over Munson?”

“Girls...”

“I can’t believe it! I cannot believe it-“

“Girls!” Veronica shouted, nearly screamed, instantly silencing their growing fervor – yet, as they all looked at her, her sudden burst of bravado quickly fizzled away, leaving her feeling shy and vulnerable once more. They all leaned in close, trying to listen to whatever she’s about to say...

“...Do I need to go beat him up?” Robin asked in a hushed voice, put off by the silence that now filled the room, her tone wholly serious. Veronica couldn’t help but smile at her sincerity.

“No, Robin... Eddie hasn’t done anything.”

“Well, he’s done something.” Erica chimed, her arms crossed atop her chest; they all waited for Veronica to give even a crumb of information, all while she tightened her hold around the pillow pressed flush against her chest, her chin resting atop it as she let out a quiet sigh.

“Okay, I...” She began, biting her lip as she tried to gather her turbulent thoughts together. “This is all really new, and... and I’ve never...” As she speaks, Nancy’s eyes widen in understanding, the girl already grasping what Veronica is attempting to say. She gives Robin a nudge, but the blonde is too focused on Veronica to notice. “This has never happened before...”

“What has?” Eleven asked innocently.

“I...” Veronica took in a deep breath, her eyes clenched shut as she decided to just... blurt it out. “I’m in love with Eddie.” As the weight of her confession is lifted from her chest, her eyes slowly open, only to be met with the stunned looks of her friends.

They were silent.

All of them.

“Girls... G-Girls, say something...”

It was Max who first mustered up the courage to speak, all the crumbs she’s noticed in the past few months suddenly making a glaring amount of sense. How had she not realized this before? “Y-You... You love him?”

Veronica gave them all a shy nod, her gaze flickering over all of them as she bites her lip once more. “Yes...?” She replies, slowly releasing her vice-like hold on her pillow. “Is... Is that really so weird?”

“No!” Robin suddenly exclaimed, looking around at the others to chime in. “No, we’re just... surprised?”

“Very surprised.” Erica added, the girl looking more shocked than anything – and, perhaps, even a bit nauseous at the thought.

“You hated his guts at the start of the school year!” Max said, with Eleven nodding emphatically in agreement.

“You couldn’t stand him... and now you love him?” Nancy asked quietly, squeezing Veronica’s hand again. “...Does he know?”

“No !” Veronica hadn’t realized that her voice had come through so loudly – and, frankly, she was too lost in her own rising emotions to even attempt to change it. “He doesn’t! He can’t!”

“And why not?” Asked Erica.

Veronica gave them all an overwhelmed, exasperated look, her hands sweeping widely over herself – clad in all her frilly pastel-pink pajamaed glory. “Look at me – I’m not his type!”

“And how do you know he even has a type?” Nancy suggested, trying her best to sound reassuring.

“Everyone has a type.” Said Robin – and whether her comments were useful in this situation remained to be seen. “I mean, look at Nance – she clearly has a thing for lanky brunettes-“

“Robin!” Nancy snapped, blushing herself at her friend’s... observation. “Not helping!”

“I’m just saying-“

Nancy interjected. “Anyway...” She gave Robin a sharp glare, the girl finally catching the hint. “You’ll never know if you don’t tell him.”

“I...” Veronica clutched her pillow once more, burying her face into its soft comfort, hoping to hide herself away from the world. “What if he doesn’t like me back...?” She asked her friends weakly, her bleary eyes tearing at their hearts – she had a point. “I-It’ll make everything weird, and... I like what we have now.” She took in a deep breath, shaking her head before adding in a voice just barely above a whisper, “I don’t want to lose him.”

A thick silence settled among them, none sure of what to say, of what words of encouragement they could possibly offer their friend in a situation they never believed she’d be in; this was the absolute furthest thing from their minds, Veronica falling in love with Eddie Munson, of all people.

Who would’ve thought?

“How... How did it happen?” Eleven asked shyly, the other girls looking to Veronica for an answer. She turned toward her, her face blushing red as a smile stretched across her lipglossed lips.

“Well, I...” Veronica began, trying to think back to when this all began – to when she had first noticed she had felt something for Eddie beyond the platonic friendship they had developed through the school year. “Remember when I asked him to go to The Fling with me...?” She touched on every point she could remember, the girls all leaning in close, listening raptly to her tale, their eyes softening with love as they realized just how romantic Veronica’s relationship with Eddie had turned out to be. Since the beginning, they could trace the thin strands of affection already weaving themselves together – each of them had noticed a string, but none thought to put them together.

“He’d kept the cassette this whole time...?” Mac asked softly.

Veronica nodded, her smile growing. “I thought I had lost it, but it was with him.” She added meekly, glossing over the fact that the spools had been worn nearly smooth from how much he had listened to it, or how it had been nestled between his favorite Metallica tapes. “The, he put it on and we slow danced-“

“Hold on .” Nancy interjected, her hands raised in shock. “You got Eddie to slow dance?” At Veronica’s nod, the girls break out into fits of giggles and gasps.

“No way!”

“Was he a good dancer?”

“Who’d’ve thought Eddie could dance?”

Then, Max asked, “Did he kiss you?”

At that question, Veronica’s blush deepened, her hands running warm, her eyes sparkling.

“No, but...” She tugged at her fingers, fiddled with the end of her braid. “That day we took you and Lucas to the mall...? At the tuxedo rental place, he... I think he almost did.”

“I knew it!” The redhead exclaimed, her head falling into her hands with a miserable groan. “God, I’m going to kill Lucas...!”

“That has to mean something, right?” Erica asked, looking at everyone. “Why else would he try to kiss you?”

Veronica shook her head, her body curling around her pillow once again. “But he didn’t kiss me – I just think he was going to.” With a sigh, she continued, “I-I could be reading into this whole thing all wrong...”

Their conversation ebbed and flowed through this new tide of Veronica’s newfound love for Eddie; her fingers dug into the pillow clutched in her arms, her face pressed into it as the girls continued to grill her for details, the gossip lively and colorful yet again.

Could he have been...?

Could he?

Veronica’s fingers dug almost painfully into the meat of her palms as she laid in her makeshift bed of piled blankets and pillows atop the floor, staring holes through the glowing stickers dotting Robin’s bedroom ceiling; she tossed and turned, her thoughts churning through her mind, remaining, persisting.

Had he really tried to kiss her...?

She could still feel the soft fanning of his breath against her lips, the way it smelled faintly of cigarettes, how his chocolate lashes fluttered against flushed cheeks in those final moments, his gaze as hot as it was unbearably tender – unfamiliarly tender. Had he ever looked at her that way before?

Thinking back, she thinks he may have – she just never thought much of it.

But, now..? As her mind raced, her hands sweating as she relived those few, quiet moments alone with him, she wished she’d found the courage to take a step forward, to close the distance between them, to press her lips to his – if only to have avoided the unbearable ache that has now settled deep within her chest, nestled around her heart.

She wished he’d kissed her.

She desperately wished he’d kissed her.

What would it have felt like, she thought? Would his lips have been chapped? Rough? Or would they have been as impossibly soft and silky as they looked?

How would he have kissed her? Would he have gone in for a quick peck and pulled away, or would he have taken her, hands gentle as they held her face, his mouth...

Veronica worried her lip between her teeth, grateful the other girls were asleep – no one needed to see the way her face burned hotter than fire. How often had she thought about those lips since that day?

She simply couldn’t deny the racing of her heart, the welcome flush of warmth that spread throughout her body at the thought of him any longer – a new sensation, something beyond the softness she’s always felt for him. Now, this was something different – something she’s never felt before.

Veronica knew that this feeling had a name, one that she was all at once terrified and elated to think of; she knew she shouldn’t dwell on such things, but the temptation was too strong – too enticing... Looking around, she slowly rose from her bed, her blanket pooling at her feet as she slowly – quietly – tiptoed out of the room... Down the staircase... And into the kitchen.

The kitchen had a phone.

Her hands were trembling; as hard as she tried to shake them out, they refused to calm, her beating heart racing just from the thought of dialing the number she had long since ascribed to memory. Taking a breath, she pulled the phone off its place on the wall, her fingers nervously twirling the coiled cord as she pushed one button after another...

One ring.

Two rings...

Three rings-

“Hello? Munson place. This is Eddie.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn’t remember how to speak.

“Hello...?” Eddie asked again, his voice sounding confused as to who could possibly be calling him so late into the night.

Her voice was small, soft – yet he heard it all the same. “H-Hi, Eds.”

“Sweetheart?” That name – that damned name – sent a flurry of butterflies through her stomach, her lungs tight, hands clenching the plastic receiver to the point of soreness. She tried to take a breath and found it impossible. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Buckley’s tonight?”

“I am, I... I couldn’t sleep.”

Her reply wasn’t the strongest, nor the most convincing, but she prayed all the same that he believed her; she thanked her lucky stars that he couldn’t see her – face flushed, body leaned against the wall, the phone twisted almost painfully around her fist.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Eddie asks, and Veronica can’t help but roll her eyes; she can imagine his face, the way his rich eyes gleam when he talks, the way his nose crinkles when he smiles.

“It’s not a school night, remember?” She said, unsure of how she’s managed to sound so calm.

He chuckled; she could hear him shuffling around – was he walking into the kitchen? “How’s the sleepover?” He asked. “You havin’ fun?” And, to his question, Veronica gave him a brief rundown of how their night had been – which movie they had watched, how much sugary nonsense they’d consumed, what they’d talked about sans the hottest topic of the night.

“Robin and Max were fighting over what to listen to, but none of it was really my style.”

“What is your style, then?”

“I...” She tried to reply, but her voice was finally betraying her. She took in a breath, then another, before finally managing to say, “Whatever you listen to, I guess.”

Eddie let out a theatrical gasp, one that made Veronica nearly break out in laughter. “Have I made a metalhead out of you, Windsor?”

“It was only a matter of time.” She replied, not noticing the way her smile made her cheeks ache. “You’ve influenced me, Munson.”

She lost herself to the sound of his voice, the smooth, low – sometimes excited, sometimes fast-paced – cadence of his words, letting it wash over her, sweeping her away to someplace calm and warm and cozy; t fell over her in waves, and it radiated into the deepest recesses of her heart, sinking in like the warmth of a fireplace on a cold winter’s night.

“Hello? Windsor...?” Eddie called out after a moment of silence on her end, his voice softening, his tone gentle. “Sweetheart? You still there?”

“H-Huh...?” Veronica stammered, her face bursting red yet again. “Y-Yeah, sorry. I’m still here.”

“Look, is... Is everything okay, princess?” Eddie’s concern for her made Veronica want to sink to her knees; she had to clutch the wall to keep herself standing. She could hear him let out a breath, his hand running through his hair. “Do you need me to stop by-“

“I’m fine, Eddie.” Came her hushed response. “Just... couldn’t sleep and felt like calling.”

He went quiet – and for long enough that she thought he’d disconnected. “I was on your mind?”

“You’re always on my mind, Eddie.”

A beat passed between them, a shared understanding that Veronica’s words had meant much more than she’d intended them to.

“So, you’re okay...?”

“I’m okay.”

She could hear more shuffling, and the muffled sound of a door opening and someone’s distant voice.

“Hey, Dad just got home. Can I call you later?”

“Sure, Eds.” Veronica said, finally releasing her death grip on the coiled phone cord. “Tell Uncle Wayne I said hi.”

“I shall deliver your well wishes, o’ princess.” He said dramatically, and she rolled her eyes again in response.

“Goodnight, Eddie.” She said with a laugh.

He paused for a bit before replying, “...Goodnight, Veronica.”

The line was cut, the receiver’s dull buzz going unnoticed as Veronica tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart. How many times had she heard those very words, and felt nothing? She couldn’t recall; she didn’t want to. This feeling made her feel light, airy, the fluttering in her stomach making every sensation all the more real.

She was in love with Eddie.

Quietly, carefully, Veronica made her way back up the staircase and down the hall, slowly pushing open the door to Robin’s bedroom... only to find the girls all huddled atop the bed, Robin’s phone held between them.

“You’re always on my mind, Eddie?” Erica deadpanned, rolling her eyes before faking a gag – and the room erupted in frantic conversation and grasping hands, Veronica pulled to the bed as they all gossiped until dawn finally broke through the sleepy town of Hawkins.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine @kaitebugg03 @enchante-em

#becca.fic #ride the lightning #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x oc #haven't written in months so hopefully this is good #want to finish this in 2024 to i can move on to other things but first this baby needs to come out

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becca-alexa · 1 year

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Five: School Daze

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Eddie's begun to notice... something in Veronica that he's never felt before - what will he do?

Word Count: 4.4K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: yes🦇for🦇characters🦇realizing🦇their🦇feelings🦇i🦇live🦇for🦇oblivious🦇to🦇not🦇oblivious🦇romance

otherworldly thank you to @rollforhellfire for reading this -- your comments literally keep me going <333

The heels of Veronica’s patent-leather Mary Janes echoed through the halls of Hawkins High, the droves of students seeming to part way as she moved about them with purpose - she clearly had somewhere to be, someone to speak to. Brushing back one of her braids, she rounded a corner, descended a flight of stairs, her pace quickening as the double-doors of the lunchroom fell within sight. And, tugging at the strap of her bag, she pushed her way inside.

The lunchroom was bustling, as it always was at that time of day, tens upon dozens of students all eager to find something edible among the lunch slop. Looking across the room, she spotted her target - the raucous Hellfire table.

“You can’t cast fireball for every move, dude.” Lucas said, stuffing a forkful of lettuce into his mouth, pointing the plastic thing at Dustin, who was cautiously flipping open what he’d been told was a turkey burger. “Think of something else.”

Dustin scoffed at him, setting his lunch aside in lieu of a carton of chocolate milk. “What, like you have a better idea on how to beat the Drolem?” Looking beside him, he turned to Will for confirmation, and the boy nodded, midway through chewing his tuna sandwich. “See? Fireball’s our best option here.”

“Might I suggest you rethink your strategy, my little sheep?” Eddie’s voice, clear and carrying across the table, silenced the chatter of the youngest among them, and his smile sent a chill coursing through their spines. “Need I remind you that the Drolem is part-dragon?”

“Damn!” Dustin huffed, head falling into his upturned palms. “How could I forget?”

“Told you.” Lucas said with a scoff, shoving a straw into his juice cup. “What we need to do is… uh…” His voice trailed off, eyes widening as he caught sight of a vision of… pink? He nudged Jeff at his side, who was equally - if not more - surprised to see Veronica Windsor at their table, arms crossed over her chest; she gave them all a little wave, her smile shy as she turned to face Eddie.

“Lost your voice, Sinclair?” Eddie asked, his words trailing off into a chuckle as he shoved a handful of pretzels into his mouth, unaware of the table staring behind him. “Pity. You were getting so close-”

“Munson.”

Eddie choked on his pretzels, swallowing what he could, the rest sticking to the inside of his mouth as he all but coughed up his lungs, Gareth slamming his fist against his back to keep him breathing. Face aflame - and only partially so from nearly having lost his life to the snack - Eddie twisted around in his chair, eyes narrowed at Veronica, face set in a scowl.

“Can I help you, Windsor?” he croaked, voice rough as he blinked away the tears blurring his vision. She reached for the back of his chair, pulling it out with more force than he’d expected.

“Get up.” she said, emerald eyes sparkling as they bore into his, making him much too uncomfortable in front of his many admirers. “We need to talk.”

Without another word, Eddie followed Veronica away from the chaos, the mass of students gathered outside having already dissipated, leaving them alone in the hallway. Eddie waited for her to speak, his hands shoved into his pockets for lack of a better place, and he rocked back and forth on his heels as he watched her dig through her bag.

“So… uh… What’d you want to talk about?” he finally asked, trying to peek at what she was looking for, surprised when she pulled out a… a packet? And a heavy-looking one at that, he noted, confused when she handed it to him.

“Midterms are in two weeks.” she began, voice clear. “And you will be passing all of them.”

“O… kay?” He turned over the weighty packet in his hand, flipping through its pages. “And this is supposed to help me?”

“This is all of the material that’ll be covered on the tests.” she explained, poking a finger at one of the pages. “I spent the week putting it together, so that we know what to focus on.”

“Hold on, you… you made this?” Flipping through the packet again, he suddenly realized that all of the pages were handwritten, her penmanship impeccable, all of the problems clearly explained in the way she’d since learned he’d understand best. “Windsor, I-”

She didn’t let him finish. “Until midterms start, we’ll need to spend our lunches going over this.”

And he gaped at her, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “We need to eat… together?” he asked, brows furrowing together as she nodded, braids swaying with the movement. “Really?”

“You want to get through that thing by yourself?” she asked, her voice as flat as it was blunt, and she bit back a smile as Eddie conceded with a drop of his shoulders.

“Right.” His words trailed out on a sigh, and he rubbed at his forehead, willing away the headache he could feel brewing behind his eyes. “You’re… You’re right, as always.”

“Look, Munson,” Veronica said, her voice soft. “You can do this, okay? This is all stuff you already know. We’re just… reinforcing it.” Her hand moved, hovered over his arm as if to give him a comforting pat, but it fell back to her side, the movement somewhat awkward. “Meet me at the library starting tomorrow.” she added, and gave him a smile as she walked back toward the lunchroom. “And don’t be late! The more time we get with this, the better!”

Eddie gave her a weak excuse of a wave; after she’d crossed the double-doors, he fell back against the wall, hands dragging over his face, cheeks burning as he tried to collect himself enough to return to his table.

If any of them noticed how utterly red Eddie was, they were wise enough not to mention it.

“Christ, Windsor, can we take a break?” Eddie groaned, head falling to the wooden library table, his hair fluttering around him as it settled about his shoulders. “My brain’s melting out my eyeballs.”

They’d been at it a week, their extra studying sessions. Everyday, they’d meet in the library to pour over the material, working through each of the questions several times over in order to ensure that he’d retain the information - and all of this on top of his daily tutoring. He doesn't understand why she’s putting in the extra effort, but he appreciates it nonetheless; he tries not to read too closely into the way her voice gentles when she’s explaining something to him, or how she’d take the time to go over a particular problem ad infinitum whenever he’d get confused. He tries to stay focused - Lord knows he does - but somewhere between Calculus and U.S. History II, his mind began to wander.

Seated as close as they were, Eddie leaned his arm against the tabletop, head resting on his hand, eyes scanning the page Veronica was reviewing with him. He followed the path of her manicured finger along the lines of text, enthralled by how the light caught on the pastel yellow polish. Her hands, so small compared to his, were bare; he wondered absentmindedly if he should get her a ring, just to fill the empty spaces, the implications of such a gift lost on him. He tried to focus on the material, but how could he, when her voice sounded so sweet? So honeyed? Had it always sounded like that? Eddie shook his head, biting the inside of his mouth, forcing his thoughts back to the topic at hand.

As she continued onto some Godforsaken equation, Eddie’s gaze moved to her head, trailing over her inky hair; she’d only braided a single today, just like she’d done on Halloween, the thing as glossy as it was thick, hanging over her shoulder and tied at the end with a ribbon in a color matching her blouse. How would it feel between his fingers, he wondered? Would she let him touch it, if he asked? Hell, he’d let her touch his hair any day-

“Munson?” Veronica asked, her voice breaking through the pleasant haze of his thoughts. “Are you listening?”

Obviously not, his mind blared. “Sorry, I… I think I zoned out for a second.” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck, a chuckle bubbling up from his chest as she shook her head, flipping back to the start of the section they’d been reviewing, beginning again in the same mellow tone of voice that had him bewitched; she’d only gotten through the first few sentences before she leaned back in her chair with a sigh, flipping the packet shut.

“You’re not paying attention.” Fearing he’d upset her, he reached for the thing, flipping through it, searching for the page they’d been working from.

“No, I-I am, I promise-”

She’d reached for his hand, her touch warm against the chill of his rings, and Eddie had to suppress the shudder radiating at the base of his spine from the sudden contact. “We’ve covered enough for today - just finish your lunch, alright?” She smiled at him, soft and inviting, and he finally relaxed into his seat, prying open his metal lunch box and pulling out his usual baggie of pretzels.

“Want some?” he offered, holding out the plastic thing toward her, biting back his grin as she took a few, popping them into her mouth, offering him bits of her own lunch in exchange - and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a… memorable day at school, sharing a meal with her, the conversation between them easy, their shoulders all but touching as they whispered to each other to keep from being shushed by the librarian.

They’d been going through it for hours, sitting on Eddie’s bed, pouring over what they had left of the packet, reviewing the material they’d already gone through. It was the night before the first of many midterms, and Eddie’s panic was palpable, with Veronica left to try and keep him calm enough to remember how hard he’d been working, reassuring him that he was more than prepared to take the test - Calculus, for Monday.

Outside, they could hear Wayne shuffling about, mindful of how loud he’d set the television as not to interrupt their studying; when Veronica had first appeared at their door, he’d been surprised, sympathetic to his nephew’s academic situation, even a bit confused as to why she had agreed to take him on - from Eddie's grumblings, he'd been well aware of who she was. Now, he considered her as much a part of his family as his own flesh and blood. Hell, he’d even gotten her a mug to use whenever she was over. Setting a tray of pizza rolls into the oven, he sank back onto the couch, beer in hand as he watched the week’s baseball game, the soft echo of Eddie’s music fading into the background.

“Did you remember to follow the order of operations?” Veronica asked, passing back Eddie’s scribble-heavy notebook, moving closer beside him to point out the equation he’d been trying to solve. “Here, you left out the exponent. Do that first, then solve the rest.” Taking it back, he wracked his mind for an answer, used his fingers to count, scratched what was left of his eraser over the page, not realizing his tongue had been poking out from between pressed lips all the while.

“Like this?” he asked, voice hesitant as he passed the notebook back to her, tapping his pencil against his knee as she checked over his work, and his shoulders fell in relief at her smile.

“Good job, Munson.” The look on her face, warm and gentle and proud, nearly turned his stomach to mush. “See? You got this.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed at her praise. “I just hope you’re right, sweetheart-”

“Ed!” Wayne shouted from the living room. “Oven’s goin’ off!”

"Be right back…!" Eddie jumped off the bed, shuffling down the hall toward the kitchen, and dug through the cabinets in search of mitts.

“Everything alright in there?” Wayne called out from the couch, turning to look at his nephew over the back of the couch. “Brain’s not melted yet, is it?”

“Everything’s hunky-dory, Dad.” he replied, pulling the tray out of the oven; his body halted mid-motion, steaming rolls in hand as he shook his head - he couldn’t help but smile at the thought that Veronica’s… unusual language was finally rubbing off on him. “We should be done soon, anyway.”

“Y’ain’t lettin’ her take that bicycle home, are you?”

Eddie let out an exaggerated gasp, mitted hands slamming against his chest. “And leave the delicate princess alone in the dead of night? How could I ever?”

“Delicate, my ass.” Wayne mumbled to himself, satisfied with his nephew’s answer, taking another sip of his beer as he turned back toward the game.

Setting the rolls onto a plate, Eddie made his way back to his bedroom, pushing open the door with his foot, not wanting to drop anything - but as he laid eyes on the bed, he paused, frozen under the open doorway.

Veronica had fallen asleep.

He set the plate atop his desk, his footsteps silent as he approached the bed, not wanting to wake her. She grumbled something, glasses digging into her skin as she pressed her face into his pillow, her body curled up, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. Without a second thought, he reached for his blanket, tugging it over her, ignoring the fuzziness settling in his chest at the sight of her snuggling so tightly to it, nearly disappearing beneath it. Carefully, slowly, he pulled off her glasses, frowning at the red marks they’d left behind, stopping only for a moment when she’d made a groan of protest before drifting away. He stepped back from the bed, unsure of what to do next; taking the pizza rolls with him, he left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Somethin’ wrong with the rolls?” Wayne asked, catching Eddie sneaking the plate back into the kitchen, the food obviously untouched.

Eddie shook his head, more than a bit dazed and confused. “No… uh… They’re fine, I think.”

“You think?” Wayne lowered the sound on the television, turning to give his nephew his full attention, his eyebrow raised in question. “You didn’t try ‘em?”

Again, Eddie shook his head, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Veronica’s not hungry.” he replied, his answer striking Wayne as uncharacteristic of her.

“She alright?” asked the older man, shutting off the game altogether, rising from his spot on the couch.

“S-She’s fine…!” Eddie stammered; Wayne didn’t believe him, doubly so when he’d tried walking down the hallway and was pulled back by the arm. “You don’t have to check on her.”

“Eddie, what’s going on-”

“She fell asleep.” His reply came so quickly, so hurriedly, that Wayne thought he’d misheard the boy.

“She… fell asleep?”

“In my bed.” Eddie clarified - as if his response needed clarifying.

The older man let out a heavy sigh and dragged a hand over his bald patch, scratching at his scalp. “And did-”

“I tucked her in.” he replied, pulling his hands from his pockets, nervously squeezing at the tips of his fingers.

Wayne groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose, his shoulders dropping in exhaustion. “Ed, I swear to God-”

“What was I supposed to do?” Eddie hissed, mindful of the volume of his voice, his face already beginning to burn. “She fell asleep!”

“Wake her up!” Wayne replied, waving his arm toward the closed door of his nephew’s bedroom.

Eddie paled, shaking his head. “What? No, I can’t!”

“Well, she can’t sleep here!”

“You wake her up, then!”

“It’s your bed, son - and she sure as Hell ain’t been tutorin’ me.” Wayne shook his head, muttering something about young folk under his breath as he walked into the kitchen, setting a few of the rolls onto a plate for himself. “It’s getting late. Poor girl needs to go home.”

Eddie’s head snapped between his uncle’s retreating back and the hallway; he knew the man was right, and was certain that her mother would be worried about her being out so late. Still, it took every ounce of his will to march himself down the hall. So, with his lip caught between his teeth, he slipped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Oblivious to the debacle that had occurred mere feet away, Veronica was still sound asleep, Eddie’s blanket clutched beneath her chin, face buried into his pillow. He moved toward the edge of the bed, taking in a deep breath, steeling his nerves as he brought his hand to her shoulder, giving her the gentlest of shakes.

“Hey, Veronica.” he whispered, taking a half-step toward her, not realizing he’d called her by her name. “Time to wake up, sweetheart.”

She grumbled something he couldn’t understand, and her brows furrowed together as she moved beneath his blankets. “M-Munson…?”

“Mornin’, starshine.” His voice was softer than satin, and filled with a tenderness he - at least for the time being - chose to ignore altogether. “Time to go home. It’s way past your bedtime.”

“But, we didn’t finish…” Her words trailed off into a yawn, and she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, shaking her head to keep from dozing off. “My glasses…?”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He gave her a smile, which she returned with a tired one of her own. “And, here,” he added, grabbing the pair from atop his nightstand. “I took them off for you. Didn’t look too comfy sleeping with them on.” She nodded her thanks, quiet as she slipped them back onto her face, pushing them up the bridge of her nose.

“How long was I…?”

Eddie looked at his watch, and gave her a shrug. “Twenty minutes, maybe? It wasn’t too long, I think.”

“Christ, Munson - why didn’t you wake me up?”

And his response was simply, “You were tired.”

With an obvious reluctance, she peeled herself away from the warmth of his bed, sliding on her shoes as she followed him out into the living room; she picked up her jacket, stuffed her things back into her bag, moving at a snail’s pace compared to her usual energy.

“Be back soon,” Eddie told his uncle as they passed by the kitchen, reaching over the counter to give the man’s hand a swat to stop him from eating what was left of the rolls.

“‘Night, Veronica.” he called out, giving her a fatherly smile, hand raised in a wave.

Her yawned reply of, “G’night, Uncle Wayne…” prompted a shared look between the Munsons, Eddie rolling his eyes at how the older man’s face melted at her words. Plucking his keys from the hook near the door, he led her out to his van, helped her into the passenger seat, even buckled her seatbelt, all while her head slowly began to bob. Hopping into the driver’s side, he gave the old thing a minute to warm up, the resulting silence between them… comfortable, even if she was half-asleep.

The drive to her house was short, faster than usual because of the late hour; pulling up in front of her lawn, Eddie was quick to move to her side. As he opened the door for her, he reached over, giving her knee a light tap, the touch jolting her awake.

“Huh…?”

“You’re home.” he said, offering his hand to help her out - and part of him was surprised she’d taken it, holding onto him all the way to her front door. He stayed with her as she dug through her bag, mainly out of fear she’d fall over.

“Shit…” she mumbled, shaking her bag around, face dropping into a frown.

“What?”

“Forgot my keys.”

His gaze darted between her and the curtained window; he swore he could see the faintest gleam of light shining from inside. “Nobody home?” he asked, and with his mind clearly elsewhere, he reached forward, Veronica left pressed into his shoulder as his hand hovered over the doorbell. But, before he could think to press it - before she could think to stop him - the abrupt, rumbling avalanche of footsteps echoed from beyond the door, the wooden thing swinging open with so much force, Eddie thought it’d been torn asunder from its hinges.

“Veronica…!” A woman yelled, pulling the girl in question into the house by the arm, all but crushing her in her vice-like embrace, pressing a flurry of kisses onto the top of her head. “Oh, I was gettin’ so worried when you didn’t call…!”

Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the woman, draped in a silken lavender robe fringed in fur, the thing dragging along the ground as she swung Veronica about, bell-shaped sleeves reaching past her knees. Her mop of strawberry-blonde hair was piled high atop her head, wrapped in curlers wider than his fist, and her face was caked in some fluorescent-green goop he could only assume was a face mask.

“Sorry, Mom…” Veronica mumbled, giving the woman a kiss on the cheek and frowning when she inadvertently tasted the mask.

Mom?

“And who’re you?” the woman - Veronica’s mother, apparently - asked, giving Eddie a noticeable once-over, hands settling atop her hips as her gaze upon him chilled, Veronica taking the chance to escape upstairs; Eddie’s eyes followed her silent retreat, and he swallowed against the lump of nervousness in his throat.

“Hi, ma’am. I’m… uh…” he tries to say, wiping his palm against the side of his pants before extending it out to her. “I’m Eddie Munson. Veronica’s been tutoring me?” As he spoke, the woman’s face melted into something akin to excitement, and she shook his hand with enough gusto to throw off his balance, her cold scrutiny giving way to the brightest of smiles.

“You’re the Munson kid? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Her voice was high-pitched, energetic, and she didn’t let him go as she continued on, her cherry-tipped fingers still wrapped around his grip. “My name’s Lorraine - I’m Roni’s mother.” And, leaning in toward him, making quite the show of looking around to make sure her daughter was nowhere in sight, Lorraine stage-whispered, “She talks about you all the time!”

“Mom!” Veronica shouted from upstairs, clearly having heard her.

Eddie’s face flushed at the admission, and he cleared his throat before asking, “She… She does?”, his stomach flipping at the woman’s emphatic nodding. He shoved his hands into his pockets, taking in a deep breath before adding, “Sorry for bringing her back so late - I know she has a curfew.”

Lorraine gave his shoulder a swat, her flouncy robe swaying with the movement. “Don’t worry about it! As long as she’s been with you, I think I can make an exception.”

Eddie nodded in agreement, his smile finally breaking through. “Could you… uh… tell Veronica I’ll pick her up for school tomorrow? I forgot to put her bike in my van before we left.”

Lorraine nodded, arms crossing over her chest. “Sure, honey. I’ll let her know.”

He nodded again, his gaze moving to the empty staircase behind her before he finally turned back toward the street. “I guess I should probably go.” he said, adding quickly, “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Windsor.”

“Get home safe, dear!” she called out to him, watching from the open door as he made his way back to his van, giving him one final wave as he pulled himself into the driver’s seat before shutting the door.

Eddie turned on the van, giving the engine a minute or two to heat back up, his hands cupped over his mouth as tried to warm them; just as he’d moved to switch gears from P to D, he jumped at the sudden knock against his window.

“Hey?” he asked, rolling the thing down, his voice still a bit rough from the shock of finding Veronica standing outside of his van.

She bit at her lip, kicking her slippered foot against the front tire as she said, “Sorry for tonight.” With her head lowered, she missed his softening grin. “And thanks for the ride.”

“Dad would’ve killed me if I’d let you leave by yourself.” he replied with a laugh, as though he’d ever have let her go alone, Wayne’s insistence be damned. “I told your mom I’d-”

“I heard.” Veronica said quickly, cheeks still pinkened with embarrassment at what the woman had told him. “What time will you be here?”

“Is 7:00 too early for you?”

“I should be asking you that.”

Eddie beamed a smile at her, shaking his head. “Right again, sweetheart - I’ll be here at 8:00.” he said, and leaned over the edge of the open window, arms folded beneath his head as he added, “A man needs his beauty sleep, y’know?”

“You mean those dark circles don’t grow themselves?”

“Exactly.”

They stood in silence, their grins slipping as the conversation between them faded away, a chill blowing between them, howling through the trees.

“You should get inside, it’s too cold to be out here in… are those rabbits?” he asked, eyes wide as he leaned over the window’s edge to look at her slippers, swallowing back a bark of laughter as her face burst red at his words.

“They were a gift.” she gave by way of explanation, and that was that.

Eddie pulled himself back into the van, finally pulling it out of park, his foot pressed flush against the brake. “I should probably go before Dad eats my half of the pizza rolls.”

Veronica nodded, taking a step away from the door. Had he been any more distracted, had he taken a moment longer in buckling his seatbelt, he would have missed her parting words:

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

He turned to look at her, her voice echoing through his mind - it certainly hadn’t been the first time she’d said his name, but he’d never heard her say it like that. He blinked, his thoughts a confusing slurry as he somehow managed to return the sentiment.

“...Goodnight, Veronica.” His voice was low, quiet, but she grinned all the same; she gave him a small wave as he drove off, and he watched from his rearview mirror as she walked across her lawn and back into her house, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to remember which way was home.

#ride the lightning #becca.fic #i stand by my headcanon that Wayne is a musicals fan #and he has a bunch of records from broadway hits that Eddie grew up listening to #and that 'mornin' starshine' like is from Hair (1967) so it fits #i had to look up old D&D handbooks to see which monsters would have been released in the early to mid 80s and the Drolem fits #i need this fic to be ACCURATE #also I intended Lorraine to come off as a mix between Fran Fine and Elle Woods because she is absolutely That Bitch and i Love her #also headcanon Eddie only calls Wayne 'Uncle Wayne' when he's being a little shit otherwise he just calls him Dad #because the man is his father and i will be taking no questions about it #and wayne going all soft when veronica calls him Uncle Wayne makes me so happy #and eddie passes all his midterms with Bs btw i had a scene planned out for that but i didn't think it fit well but yeah our boi passes #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x original character

17 notes · View notes

becca-alexa · 1 year

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter One: Prelude

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Eddie Munson hated Veronica Windsor, the newest student at Hawkins High, and she hated him just as much. When a situation arises that brings them together, will they both emerge unscathed? Will things forever change between them?

Word Count: 3.3K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: I tried to be cool and name the chapters after songs that would have been around in '86 - mainly Metallica, W.A.S.P, Mötley Crüe, Judas Priest, and The Smiths. I might make a playlist with all the songs once this is over, just for fun. Let me know if you liked this! I'm excited to get this going!

Nestled somewhere between the preps, jocks, and goths, stretching far across the expanse of laminate tabletops and trays of barely-edible slop sat the familiar members of the Hellfire Club, all enthralled in conversations over their latest campaign, the excitement in their voices clear and carrying over those of the students around them. Dustin’s head snapped back with pealing laughter at a comment Gareth had made; Jeff and Thomas were both hunched around Will, staring in awe as he flipped through a handful of drawings from his sketchbook - designs for their newest D&D characters. And, arguably the most “normal” among their rag-tag band of outcasts, Mike and Lucas both ate their pitiful excuses for lunches in a mutual silence, picking up bits and pieces of the discussions around them, answering when needed - but, for the most part, listening.

And watching.

The only one seemingly out of character was Eddie, quiet as he picked at his bag of pretzels, his gaze locked onto… something, his attention consumed, entranced, by whatever - or whoever - had caught his eye - and, by the look of him, he wasn’t very happy about it.

“Guys, who…?” Lucas twisted himself around, nearly falling from his seat as he tried to follow Eddie’s apparent line of sight, asking the rest of the group, “Who is he staring at?”

Their conversations ground to an abrupt halt at his question, everyone’s attention turning toward their fearless leader - who was still painfully oblivious to their odd looks. “Do you even have to ask?” Dustin offered in response, rolling his eyes, smirking as he shoved a handful of soggy fries into his mouth.

Lucas replied with a shrug, hands raised in confusion, “I don't-”

“It’s Veronica, dude.” Jeff graciously chimed in, giving Lucas a nudge toward his left, pointing out the girl in question from among the crowd - she was sitting across from a fierce-looking Max, her back to them, her shoulders shaking in laughter at something Robin had said.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘Oh’ - and you better cut it out, man.” Dustin turned to Eddie, a frown etched into his soft features as he swat at his arm. “Max keeps giving us the stink eye.”

Eddie blinked, as if only now hearing what they were saying, and he frowned. “If you’re all so curious, I am not staring at her - I’m glaring. Menacingly.” He stuffed a few pretzels into his mouth, his gaze never leaving the back of Veronica’s head. “There’s a difference.”

“Why don’t you like her?” Will asked, ever the innocent one, his head falling to the side in confusion as he poked a straw through his juice cup. “She’s really nice.”

“Yeah, man.” Mike quickly agreed, nodding as he added, “She’s pretty cool, plus she's never mean to us."

Eddie groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “What, like I’m just supposed to like everyone?” he snapped, eyes narrowed as he turned to the table, jaw tight, lips pressed into a frown.

“I mean, technically, no - but you’re the only one who doesn’t like her.” Dustin pointed out, his observation serving only to worsen Eddie’s mood; the others all nodded in agreement - and he could only stare at them in disbelief - in betrayal. His mouth thinned in annoyance at their sudden interrogation - and over Veronica Windsor, of all people.

“Whatever, dudes…” He’d already listened to more than he could stomach; rising from his seat, he gathered his things, stuffing his baggie of pretzels into his pocket as he made for the door.

“You’re leaving?” Gareth shouted after him, confusion clear in his voice. “Hey, lunch isn’t over yet!”

“I lost my appetite.” Eddie said, his frown evident in his voice.

“C’mon, Eddie…” Dustin said, his voice urging the older man to come back. “Promise we’ll stop-”

“I’ll be in the theatre room.” He didn’t bother turning around. “Just scream if you need me.”

The group watched in pained silence as he disappeared into the ever-present sea of students, all wondering why he was so sensitive when it came to her.

And they weren’t the only ones watching.

“And… He’s gone.” Max announced, stretching her neck to see over the crowd, her eyes following Eddie out of the lunch room.

“Finally.” Veronica said with a sigh, her hands tucked between her knees, shoulders hunched forward as she slumped into her seat, an unwanted shiver coursing through her. “I swear to God, it's like I can feel him staring holes into the back of my head.”

“That’s just Eddie being… well, Eddie.” Nancy offered with a smile, but it did little to reassure her.

“I swear, he’s usually not like this, though.” Most days, Robin tried her best to keep her friend from thinking that Eddie was a complete lunatic, but even she couldn't dispel Veronica's doubts entirely. “At least, I don’t think he is. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it-”

“Sure, and I’m Barbara Walters.”

“Why does he hate you so much?” Max asked, a full-mouthed El nodding at her side in agreement, eyes wide and bright with curiosity.

“Hell if I know!” Her head dropped into her hands with a frustrated groan, shaking as she added, “I bumped into him in the hall one day and, bam - sworn enemies.”

“He’s usually a sweetheart-” Robin began, but was quickly silenced by the piercing look Veronica threw her way.

“Munson? You're telling me that Edward J. Munson is a sweetheart?” She couldn't help but bark out a laugh, cynical and dry, her bland excuse of a lunch long since forgotten. “Please. Might as well have told me Satan lives under the town or something.”

“Well, technically-”

“Anyway,” Max interrupted, shooting Robin a chastising look that, luckily, went unnoticed by Veronica. “Are we still meeting up later?”

It was the first Friday of the month, which meant their group gathered at Nancy Wheeler’s for a slumber party - a tradition they’d long since held, and one that Veronica found herself joining into seamlessly, almost as if she’d been with them since the very beginning.

“I promised Mr. Clayborne I’d help him clean up after school.” Veronica answered, fumbling with something in the bag at her side.

Max struggled to hide her disappointment. “O-Oh.”

“Let me guess - extra credit?” Nancy asked, rolling her eyes dramatically, knowing that, wherever those golden words were involved, Veronica would always be the first on the scene.

“Every point counts, right?” Looking up, Veronica softened at the sadness lying just behind Max’s eyes, a tightness settling in her chest. “Hey, I’ll go straight over once I’m finished, alright?” At her reassurance, the redhead seemed to perk up, even if only a little. “It shouldn’t take too long, I promise.”

"Pick up the pace, Henderson! We only got an hour before the guys start showing up!"

Eddie and Dustin rounded the corner to the empty hallway, each holding a box filled nearly to overflow with stuff the older boy had gathered to add to their setup - candles, strings of holiday lights, plastic skulls he'd found at the bottom of the discount bin at Melvald's that he'd repainted to look decrepit and aged.

"Didn't you finish this last week?" Dustin asked, adjusting his grip on the box, nearly tripping over his own shoelaces as he tried to keep pace with him.

"I need to add some final touches - then it’ll be perfect." Eddie replied with an easy smile, having already planned out the placement of each of the items. But, as they neared the drama room, he slowly came to a stop, with Dustin struggling to balance the heavy box atop his hip.

“Dude, what gives?” the younger boy asked, already feeling a layer of sweat begin to bead underneath the brim of his cap. “Why’d you stop?”

Eddie slowly approached the door, straining to listen to the music coming from inside the drama room, frowning as he recognized the song - Can’t Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon. Had Mr. Clayborne left the radio on? Just as he’d taken a step forward, the soft melody of someone’s voice demanded his attention; it was gentle, sweet, and it made his stomach flip, twist, wrench as a familiar heat began to boil deep within his gut.

Only one person would ever stay at school this late - and on a Friday afternoon, no less.

Eddie all but jumped for the door, throwing it open with a single hand, the wooden thing crashing against the wall, nearly clipping Dustin on its backswing.

"Oh, for the love of- Windsor!"

At the sudden slam, Veronica let out an ear-piercing shriek, the handle of the broom she’d been holding clutched almost painfully against her chest as she spun around, long braids wrapping around her, skirt still billowing about her knees as she shouted, "For Christ's sake, Munson!" Chucking the damned broom aside, she marched up to where he was standing, a nervous-looking Duston only paces behind him. "What the Hell is wrong with you?"

"With me?" he shouted back, voice loud booming, chest expanding in anger at having come across her, of all people. "What's wrong with you? And what are you doing in our room?" Looking around, his face fell at the sight of… everything, stacked, sorted, and neat about the space - and out of the arrangement he’d worked so hard to perfect. Chairs were pushed back against the wall, tables folded and stored away.

"Uh… Cleaning? This place was a mess." Her rolling eyes only incensed him further, and Dustin could tell he was veering toward the Danger Zone.

"O-Oh, no…"

"Mr. Clayborne asked me to organize in here." She took a step back, leveling herself with him, hands planted firmly on her hips as she leaned toward him in pure challenge - and, to add insult to injury, she batted her eyes. "Why? Is that a problem?"

"Yeah, it's a problem - you touched our shit!” Eddie exclaimed, waving an arm toward where their Hellfire setup had once sat, now empty and cold.

"First of all, this is the school's shit, which I received express permission to touch.” Setting aside his mounting panic for but a moment, Dustin couldn’t help the admiration he held for Veronica - if anyone could hold their own against Eddie’s temper, it was her. “And, secondly - I didn't throw any of your junk away. Your dolls-"

Eddie blinked once, twice, the inner mechanisms of his mind all but visibly working to understand what she’d said, his voice quiet as he repeated, "Dolls…?"

"Shit, shit, shit, shit-" Dustin hissed, dragging his hands down his face, watching in horror through his slotted fingers, his gaze following the searing wave of red scaling up the pale column of Eddie’s throat.

"Dolls?" He screamed, the sound echoing through the room as he took a step forward, forcing himself into Veronica’s personal space, his face a mere breath away from hers. She could feel the heat radiating from him, unfiltered rage at having had his passion mocked so openly, so bluntly. "Look, Windsor-"

Dustin pushed himself between them, grabbing Veronica by the wrist and all but dragging her toward the door, making sure to pick up her bag on their way out, voice quaking as he exclaimed, "H-Hey, Veronica! Can I talk to you for a sec? Great, thanks!"

"Dustin, what-" Veronica pulled herself free of his grasp; she tried to go back into the room, only to be stopped by the youngling, his body physically blocking the doorway.

"You need to leave."

"Excuse me?" She couldn’t believe what she was hearing - Eddie was the one who showed up and caused a massive scene over what was, arguably, nothing, and she was the one being told to leave?

"You. Need. To leave - before Eddie goes full Death Star on both of us."

Veronica raised her hands in equal parts exasperation and confusion. "What does that even mean-"

"I'll explain later! Just, please…!" Dustin begged, shoving her bag into her arms and pushing her down the empty hallway.

Veronica took in a breath, closing her eyes as she brought her rising temper in check, all while Dustin was practically having kittens at her indecision. "Fine - but if that room's a mess tomorrow morning, I'm blaming it on you guys!"

“Henderson!” Eddie screamed, his patience obviously worn thin.

Pleading, Dustin shouted, "F-Fine! Okay! Just go!" Watching as she disappeared down the hall, he took in what he’d hoped was a calming breath before jumping back into the lion’s den that was their Hellfire room, praying he was prepared enough to deal with Eddie’s blackened mood.

He walked in slowly, cautiously, nerves wracked as he watched Eddie drag the massive wooden table back to its rightful place in the center of the room. "H-Hey, man, it's okay-"

"What part of this looks okay to you?" he shouted, face still red, his voice quaking as he spoke. "It took me three weeks to get this place perfect, Dustin! Three weeks! And she ruined everything-"

"Eddie! Eddie, listen to me! It's fine!" Dustin insisted, grabbing his mentor by both arms, giving him a settling shake in hopes of clearing his mind - or, at least, distracting him. "We'll get everything set up again. It's not that big a deal, man-"

"Whoa, what happened here?" Gareth's voice echoed through the space, the rest of the group following closely behind him, all staring at the empty room; Eddie rolled his eyes, tugging himself free of Dustin's grasp as he went to grab a stack of chairs.

"Veronica." Dustin confessed, lifting his cap as to drag a hand through his errant curls. "Mr. Clayborne asked her to clean things up and she put everything away."

"She shouldn't have been in here." mumbled Eddie, digging through one of the stacked boxes nearby, his arm shoved inside nearly to the elbow as he tried to find the stacks of terrain maps he’d left behind after their last session. "This is our space."

"She was just doing what he asked her to do!" Dustin groaned, pinching the space between his eyebrows as he felt a headache coming on.

"Honestly, though, it was getting kinda grody in here." Thomas added, moving to help Eddie search for their things.

Mike and Will both chimed in, "Agreed."

And their responses only further upset Eddie, who rolled his eyes as he grumbled, "Whatever."

"Yeah, dude - and you really shouldn't have yelled at her like that."

At Dustin’s words, the room seemed to still, everyone turning to look at Eddie, matching expressions of surprise frozen onto their faces. "Hold up, you were yelling at her? At Veronica?" Lucas asked, clearly stunned that anyone - including Eddie - would ever think to raise their voice at her at all, especially considering the circumstances. They all knew how deeply Eddie’s disdain for the girl went, but to yell at her? "Like, how loud are we talkin'?"

"Sinclair-"

Jeff stepped forward, his grip rough as it landed on Eddie’s shoulder, squeezing as he shook his head in… disappointment? Eddie couldn’t tell. "Dude, did you at least apologize?"

"Well, she was yelling right back-" he tried to defend, but to no avail.

"Because you did it first!" Dustin shouted, clearly having had enough of his nonsense. "Honestly, you two should just kiss and make up already…"

Eddie turned to stare at him, as did the rest of their group, eyes wide with unfiltered shock, a seething heat - one that always seemed to appear whenever Veronica was involved - coursing through him, rattling him, his body all but seizing at the thought of… "Henderson, I swear to God, if I ever hear you say something that moronically idiotic again, I’m suspending you for a month."

"Alright, sorry, my bad." Dustin mumbled, setting the last of their figures onto the table, sliding into his seat beside Will. "I was just saying…"

Looking over their table, Eddie let out a sigh, conceding that things were as good as they were going to get, at least for now. With his voice booming, he announced with a clap of his hands, "Alright, gentlemen - are we getting this campaign started or not?"

"...And then he yelled at me!" Veronica exclaimed, earning a gentle swat from Nancy, who was seated behind her and undoing the tight braids in her hair. "Can you believe that? And over a bunch of little dolls-"

"Figures." Nancy conceded, placing a bright pink elastic onto Eleven’s outstretched hand. "Mike says they're figures, not dolls."

"Whatever!" Veronica groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “He was acting like I’d burned the room down-”

"Hey!” Robin poked her head into Nancy’s bedroom, a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of soda balanced in her hands. “Are we talking about Eddie?"

"Who else?” Max chimed in with a laugh. “I swear, he’s cool but he’s totally weird.”

Eleven smiled as Nancy passed her the brush, the pair switching places atop her bed - Eleven always liked brushing out Veronica’s lengthy hair, silky between her fingers. "Why don't you like him?"

“He hasn’t really given me a reason to, has he?”

“Eddie is nice, though.” Eleven continued, head falling to the side. “It confuses me, why he’s so mean to you.”

At her words, Veronica went quiet, her gaze falling onto her lap, fingers pulling at the hem of the shirt Nancy had let her borrow. Just from what his friends had so often claimed of him, she knew that Eddie Munson was kind, loyal, protective of those in his life nearly to a fault. She knew that he could be sweet, could be gentle - she’d seen that side of him firsthand, yet it always disappeared the moment she got too close. She’d never admit to it aloud, but his treatment of her… stung, even if only a little. She gave a smile, the melancholy still clear behind her eyes, and she shrugged her shoulders as if to say "Your guess is as good as mine".

Nancy was the first to break the silence. “Alright, moving on - I have three new colors of nail polish and I just bought a new set of curlers.” she announced, and the warmth of the room seemed to return tenfold. “Who wants to go first?”

Eddie groaned into his pillow, his face pressed into it as he laid atop his stomach, sleep evading him as he tossed and turned beneath his blankets. Flipping onto his back, he stared holes into the ceiling, the events of the last few hours still fresh in his mind, still raw, still aching.

The week’s session had gone through without incident, the group successfully defeating the rabid band of werewolves he’d set in their path and moving onto their next objective. Still, Jeff’s words echoed through his mind, souring in his throat, settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.

"Dude, did you at least apologize?"

Should he apologize? Thinking back, now alone with his thoughts, Eddie admitted that he may have overreacted - had she even known that the room was theirs? That they would be using it that day? All she’d done was follow Mr. Clayborne’s instructions, and he’d exploded at her. It certainly hadn’t been one of his proudest moments, he thought.

But, what bothered him the most was what Dustin had said - that he and Veronica should just kiss and make up already.

Reaching over to his nightstand, he grabbed the mixtape she’d left behind after Dustin had all but dragged her away from him; he traced over her neat handwriting with his finger, felt the raised bumps of the stickers she’d used to decorate it. He flipped it over in his grasp, holding the plastic thing close to his chest. His other hand moved up toward his face, his touch soft as he grazed over his lips.

Kiss and make up-

In a flash, he’d put the cassette back on the nightstand, hands fisted at his side as he willed away the heat boiling in his stomach, his head spinning. He forced himself to sleep, eyes clenched together, his breathing deep and slow as her distant singing fluttered through his raging thoughts.

He didn’t return it, and he didn’t apologize.

#ride the lightning #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x original character #my first stranger things fic!!#this is going to be an enemies to lovers slow burn so get ready y'all #and steve's not relevant in this chapter but he'll show up later i swear #feedback is greatly appreciated!!!#AAAAAAAAAAA i'm so excited for this #eddie munson fic #enemies to lovers #slow burn #this can be eddie x y/n if you want my smooth brain just needs a name in there to write #also want to add that Grant Goodman's character is Thomas in this fic since he was never formally given a name #becca.fic

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becca-alexa · 1 year

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Ride the Lightning

Chapter Seven: The Boy with the Thorn in His Side

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: After a misunderstanding between Eddie and Veronica, will he be able to explain himself?

Word Count: 2.3K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: huge massive thank you to @rollforhellfire for reading this for me your help with this is invaluable and I love you so much for it 🥺💗

The manic-inducing tick, tick, ticking of the analog clock hung above the door echoed through the classroom, a hellish metronome keeping time to the dronings of Mr. Higgins and his lackluster explanations of the mechanics of the American Civil War. Half of the students present were long since asleep, spared from the endless comparisons to modern-day events and ill-timed jokes that fell uncomfortably flat.

Seated toward the back of the room, Eddie tried his damndest to keep focused on what the man was saying, the pencil in his hand working furiously, several pages of his notebook already filled with haphazardly-scribbled notes. He hadn’t realized that his tongue had poked through his pressed lips, that his leg was bouncing wildly enough to wake the student beside him. Still, he was probably the only person in that classroom sparing Mr. Higgins the light of day.

“Psst!”

Eddie bore no mind to the sound coming from somewhere behind him, certain it couldn’t have been for him - no one in that class had ever bothered speaking to him, anyway. He returned his attention to the subject at hand, flipping to a fresh page as he resumed his note-taking.

“Psssst!”

Eddie shook his head, leaning closer toward his desk, desperate to keep his attention on Mr. Higgins and his monotone voice. The annoying - frankly, jarring - sound continued on, hissing into his ear like a pest unseen, wearing away at his patience, reducing it to nothing more than a single thread. Gripping the stiff plastic back of his chair, Eddie abruptly turned himself around, looking through the students with an angry sort of look twisted onto his face before his sights landed on a girl a few seats away, her vibrant fuschia eyeshadow and hair teased to high Heaven commanding his attention. Popping the gum surely now masticating in her mouth, she nodded toward the back door of the classroom before rolling her eyes, her attention falling back to her nails. From the small window, Eddie was surprised to see… Thomas? He couldn’t think of why he would be there, but as the man waved to him, Eddie was quick to excuse himself, raising his hand to ask to go to the bathroom, barely waiting for Mr. Higgins’ response before he was out the door.

Alone in the hallway, Eddie nearly tripped over his untied laces in his effort to keep pace with his friend. “Dude, what gives? I was taking notes-”

“Gareth.” Thomas replied quickly, his breathing steady as they turned into a stairwell, descending several flights before turning a sharp corner. Eddie was quick to note the hesitation in his voice. “He… uh… called an emergency meeting.”

“For what?” he asked, his annoyance clear. “This couldn’t have waited until after class?”

Thomas stopped in front of a heavy set of double-doors, shaking his head, silent as he pushed his way through, the pair coming upon Jeff and Gareth - and Eddie knew in an instant that something was wrong.

Whatever this “emergency meeting” was to be about, he wasn’t going to like it.

“What’s up, man?” Eddie asked, looking between the two as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You wanted to talk about somethin’?”

Gareth nodded, his anger poorly-hidden; he looked to Jeff, who only gave a quiet sigh in return as he stepped back, leaning against the wall of windows lining the hallway. Thomas stayed a few paces behind Eddie, not wanting to be caught in the inevitable crosshairs.

“So… You and Windsor, huh?” Gareth spat, tone more than accusatory, his eyes narrowing at Eddie as he crossed his arms atop his chest; as he spoke, he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Care to explain that?”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Eddie nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of his question - it certainly wasn’t a secret that Veronica had agreed to tutor him. He shook his head, moving his hands into his jacket, spreading the leather wide as he continued, “What is there to explain?”

Gareth nodded, his expression one of feigned understanding - and it sparked an anger in the metalhead long since dormant. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with her.”

Eddie felt his temper rise at his words, red and seething. What exactly was Gareth implying? “Yeah, studying.” he said, his voice harsh, blistering with his heated emotions. “I’m actually trying to graduate this year, remember?”

“Oh, really?” Gareth taunted, his smile as chilling as it was crass. “So, what’s she teachin’ you - anatomy?”

And Eddie snapped, hands flying from his pockets, knuckles white as his fists gripped the collar of Gareth’s shirt - he was offended for her sake, his own be damned. How could Gareth ever…? “Shut up, man.” he hissed, his face nearly pressed nose-to-nose with his friend’s. “We aren’t… It isn’t like that.”

Gareth returned his fury beat for beat, pushing him away with a surprising amount of strength, the taller man sent staggering backwards, nearly falling against Thomas. “Tell me how it is, then!” His voice had grown louder, much to the group’s dismay - the last thing they needed was some hall monitor finding them playing hooky and giving them all detention. Gareth stomped toward Eddie, a finger pointed in his face as he went on, “Because you’ve been ditching our practices to… what, exactly?”

Eddie blinked at his words, obviously caught off-guard, not expecting such a question. “I… I haven’t been ditching-”

“We got a gig up in Indy in two weeks, Eds!” Gareth shouted, voice echoing, bouncing around the empty hallway, his hands wild as he spoke. “Do you even know the setlist?”

Eddie looked to Jeff and Thomas for support - for anything, really - but they both offered the same concerned, pitying stare. He couldn’t give Gareth an answer - his silence was enough.

“You got your damn head in the clouds over some chick!”

“Hey!” Now, Eddie was the one shouting, no longer caring if they were caught - he’d survive one more detention. “Veronica isn’t just some chick-”

“So, you admit it, then?” Gareth asked quickly, hands fisted at his hips as he leaned forward. “There is something going on?”

But, before he could think to answer, a heavy hand set itself upon his shoulder - it was Jeff, who looked at him with an unreadable expression - pain melded halfway with… disappointment? “Eddie, we’re not blind,” he said, shaking his head, his tone serious, eyes colder than he’s ever seen. “And we sure as Hell aren’t stupid.” His hand fell back to his side as he let out a weak sigh. “C’mon, man… It feels like we haven’t seen you in weeks.”

The sound of a door opening, of faint footsteps echoing atop the scuffed linoleum floors, went ignored by the four of them.

Eddie scrubbed a hand over his tired face, his shoulders falling, body suddenly exhausted by the topic at hand. “I-I know… It’s just… It’s been hard-”

Gareth scoffed at his admission. “Oh, I bet it has.”

“Dude, quit it-” Thomas interjected.

“You spend all your time with her.” Gareth slowly circled Eddie, his steps loud and sharp, making the older man wince. And Eddie couldn’t deny what he was saying, because he did spend most of his time with Veronica nowadays - if he wasn’t at Hellfire, it was almost certain he’d be with her. “Must be nice…”

“Hey, I don’t have a choice-”

“Oh, you don’t?” Gareth's voice rose an octave, a poor imitation of surprise; he’d even batted his lashes at him, just for added - grating, irritating - effect. “‘Cause I think you do, and you’re picking her over us! Over the band, dude!”

Eddie could only shake his head, pulling a hand through his knotted hair as he desperately tried to explain himself. “I’m not picking her, I- Look, Veronica and I aren’t anything.” His voice was firm, deep, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation - it was clear that he’d meant what he said. “Whatever you’re thinking of, forget it. She’s just my tutor.”

Gareth looked between Jeff and Thomas, still not entirely convinced, his arms again crossed atop his chest. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

The sharp ring of the bell broke through the ensuing silence, its chime marking the end of their conversation. As the hallway began to flood with students, the group parted ways - Gareth, Jeff, and Thomas disappeared into a swarm of bodies, Eddie returning to Mr. Higgins’ class to gather his things, and the slow clicking of footsteps echoed long after the hallway had cleared.

As what Eddie swore to be every student in Hawkins High pouring into the halls at once, he struggled to work his way through the horde, nearly being pushed to the ground as a group of friends barged into him.

“H-Hey…! Hey, sweetheart! Slow down, will you?” Eddie shouted, craning his neck above the crowd, his sights following Veronica as she turned a corner - heading to her locker, he knew. He shoved his way forward, gaining on her heels; she’d been avoiding him all day, and he was intent on figuring out why.

As he neared her locker, he was nearly hit in the face as she opened it, certain that the force behind her swing would have been enough to break his nose. Why was she so upset? “What crawled up your skirt?”

“Leave me alone, Munson.”

Munson? She hadn’t called him that in ages, at least not so… acidly. “Veronica, talk to me.” he pleaded fruitlessly to the metal door, gnawing at the inside of his mouth at her prolonged silence. “You’ve been dodgin’ me like the plague - what gives?”

She still refused to answer him - she’d barely acknowledged he was there, taking her time pulling her books into her bag.

“Did I do something?”

“Take a wild guess.” she spat, angrily reaching for her Trapper Keeper, groaning in frustration as it slipped from her grip, landing near his feet; she’d quickly bent down, picking it up before he’d even gotten the chance to think of handing it back to her. Eddie wracked his mind, trying to think of what he could have done - could have said - to make her so upset, but he came back with… nothing.

He let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the wall of lockers beside him. “Hey, friends-”

And he jumped when she slammed her locker shut, eyes wide and gleaming with anger as she finally looked at him. He realized with a punch to the gut that they were… wet? “Oh, so we’re friends now?”

He shook his head, not understanding. “What-”

“I thought I was just your tutor.”

He hadn’t missed the way her voice cracked, the way her shoulders fell, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as she’d turned away, books clutched tightly to her chest before she’d disappeared past a set of double-doors, leaving him alone.

The chilling rain had begun shortly after Eddie had left school. He’d lingered there for quite some time, still in somewhat of a state of disbelief as Veronica’s broken expression etched itself into his mind, burned behind his eyes. It made his stomach lurch, knowing that he’d been the one to cause her so much pain.

Arriving home, he’d replayed the conversation with Gareth in his mind nearly a thousand times - and each time he did so, it’d made him feel worse. How much of it did she hear? He moved about the trailer mindlessly, setting up the kitchen island for the usual tutoring session, pizza rolls already cooking in the oven for them to eat. But, as the minutes ticked by, Eddie felt his heart sink to the soles of his feet, twisting - wrenching - in his chest on its descent into oblivion.

She wasn’t coming.

He needed to see her, needed to explain himself - but how could he? What would he even say to her? As he began to pace, his emotions beginning to boil over, he couldn’t stand being in the trailer by himself.

He needed to see her, and Goddamnit, he was going to.

Running outside, the freezing rain pelting into him barely an afterthought, he reached for the first thing he could find - Veronica’s bicycle, in all of its pristine pastel glory. Mounting it, he pedaled with a ferocity unforeseen out of the muddy trailer park and through the waterlogged streets of Hawkins; he’d long since lost count of how many times he’d skidded atop the slick pavement, nearly crashing into one of the cars parked alongside the road. He pushed his sopping hair out of his eyes, turned sharply onto her street, the bicycle falling to the ground as he ran through the freshly-trimmed grass toward her bedroom window.

Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning clapping through the sky, and Eddie’s voice barely reached over them both. “Windsor…!!” he screamed, hands cupped around his mouth. He could see that her light was on - that was a good sign, right? “Veronica, it’s me!”

He looked for something - a flicker of movement, the swaying of her gauzy curtains, but nothing came. His hands began to tremble, his mouth going dry. “Veronica, c’mon! Let me explain!”

He knew she was home, knew she could hear him - why wasn’t she listening?

“Veronica, please…!” His voice shattered under yet another crack of lightning. Trails of icy water run rivers over his face, soaking into his clothes, his shoes. Still, his gaze never left her window.

“Please, sweetheart…” he whispered, heart in his throat, eyes burning with the familiar sting of tears.

The light turned off.

It took Eddie a moment to gather his thoughts, to realize he was still standing in her yard, that he was alone. Setting the bicycle at her front door, he’d raised his hand to knock, but it dropped weakly back to his side as he turned away. He’d had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling, his vision blurring, his breathing heavy.

He walked home.

He didn’t bother taking off the wet clothes; he’d kicked off his shoes at the door, and trudged into his bedroom before falling face-first onto his bed, a pillow held tightly in his arms as his eyes clenched shut, his last words mumbled plea that the world around him fall away.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine

#becca.fic #ride the lightning #this chapter is setting up for chapter 8 so it's a two-parter #part two will be up very soon i just need to add one last part #the potential for fluff in a misunderstanding is astronomical and i love it so much #poor eddie but i also sympathize with veronica like what would you do if a dude you'd been hanging out with for months at this point #just says to his friends that he hangs out with you because he has no choice???after he'd asked to be friends?????#absolute soul crushing behavior #even if it is a misunderstanding #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x oc #stranger things

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becca-alexa · 1 year

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Four: Sanctuary

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: The time for all things spooky and scary has befallen Hawkins, and Steve's throwing his annual Halloween Spooktacular - can Eddie convince Veronica to go?

Word Count: 4.5K

Content Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, intoxication

Author's Note: how much candy does one get on Halloween, anyway??

and thank you thank you thank you @rollforhellfire for putting up with me by reading this you're literally the best 💗💗💗

For what, he swore, had to be the hundredth time, Steve tried to recall what in the Halloween-colored Hell had possessed him to let Eddie Munson - of all people - go grocery shopping with him.

The impeccably-organized aisles of the local Piggly Wiggly were, for the most part, vacant, mainly due to the time of day. Steve walked along at a snail’s pace, his attention split between keeping Eddie in his line of sight and actually finding the things he’d written on his list.

“Dude, you’re supposed to be helping me.” Steve said with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as Eddie stuffed yet another case of alcohol into his shopping cart, ignoring the disappointed glances passers-by were giving them, a cheshire-esque smile on his face all the while. Biting back a sigh, he added Eddie’s “helping” to the running total in his head.

“I am - you, Sir Harrington, have shit taste in beer.” the man replied, adding one final pack for good measure before clapping his hands together, pleased with his handiwork; he barked out a laugh as Steve rolled his eyes at him. With the cart piled high with more booze than a simple holiday party could ever warrant, the pair made their way further down the aisle - chips were on the list next, then soda and disposable cups.

“Remind me why I agreed to let you come?” In his hands, Steve held two bottles of soda, his attention occupied as he tried to pick between them; a mistake, he’d later discover, as Eddie had used the chance to sneak, among other things, two golden boxes of Honeycomb into the cart - one for him, and one to leave at Steve’s house for whenever he was there. Turning to Eddie, he frowned as he plucked them both from his hands, setting them in the cart, and he pulled several more bottles from the shelf before pushing the cart down the aisle.

“Uh… Because you love me?” Eddie replied, voice blunt as he dropped in a jumbo-pack of red Solo cups. Steve huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, stuffing his list into his back pocket as they turned another corner, his eyes scanning the shelves for napkins.

“Sure, Munson.”

And Eddie groaned aloud at his response, ringed hands dragging over his face. “God, you sound like Windsor.” He stopped in the middle of the aisle, nearly hitting an innocent elderly woman in the face as he waved his arms around, leaving Steve to sheepishly apologize as she scurried away. “Everyday, it’s ‘Munson’ this, ‘Munson’ that - ‘Munson, shut up’, ‘Munson, stop feasting on the souls of the innocent’.” He looked to Steve, his frustrations only barely placated by the way he saw his last remark fly over the jock’s head. “I swear - half the time, I wonder if she even knows my name.”

“So you’re still calling her Windsor because…?”

Steve couldn’t have anticipated the way his words would make Eddie jolt, his eyes wide with sudden realization, a vibrant flush working its way up from the collar of his sweater as he yanked the cart away from him, huffing as he moved into the next aisle, leaving Steve laughing by himself.

“...Shut up, Steven.”

Trailing behind him, the pair fell into a companionable silence as they finished the rest of their shopping - Steve, with his attention now turned to finding an open register, and Eddie playing Steve’s words on a constant, dizzying loop. In fact, he was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Steve was speaking to him.

“Hello? Eddie?” Steve asked, waving a roll of paper towels in front of his face as he set them on the register belt. “You still with me, man?”

The metalhead blinked, as though hearing him for the first time. “H-Huh…?”

Steve shook his head, moving to the end of the register to start returning the scanned packs of beer into the cart. “Y’think you could bring Veronica to the party for me?” he asked, oblivious to the horror flashing across Eddie’s face. “You see her more than I do.”

“What? No.” Eddie was quick to give a response, the underlying urgency in his voice forcing Steve’s head away from the register. “Why’re you inviting her?”

“Because she’s my friend…?” Steve said, counting out several twenty-dollar bills before passing them to the cashier.

“She probably won’t even want to go.” He kicked at the wobbly cart wheel, hands stuffed into the pockets of the jacket he’d borrowed from his uncle.

“Wouldn’t kill you to ask.” Steve accepted the change from the cashier and pushed the heavy cart toward the door, Eddie trudging a few paces behind him as the pair made their way to Eddie’s van - Steve’s suggestion, as they’d be needing the space.

“Still-”

“What’s the big deal, Eds?” Steve asked, trying his best not to snap as he nearly dropped a case of beer on his foot, waiting for Eddie to open the door so he could start unloading the cart. “Not like she bites. Do you not want her there or something?”

Eddie let out a groan, forehead connecting with the chilled side of the van as he fished through his pockets for his keys. “‘S not that, it’s just…” Whatever confusing slurry of emotions, whatever chaos the name Veronica Windsor wrought upon his mind, he knew he couldn’t tell Steve. Not yet - not when he wasn’t entirely sure of them himself. He was silent as he helped with moving their purchases into the back of the van; he even offered to return the cart to the corral, just for an extra moment to gather his thoughts. So, jumping into the driver’s seat, hands clenched nearly to the point of pain around the steering wheel, Eddie finally conceded, “I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you.”

“You owe me a beer, Harrington.”

“Alright, Munson - spill it.”

Eddie sprang up, hair falling about his face, rose-colored cheeks betraying his desperate attempt at nonchalance as he looked at Veronica. He hadn’t realized he’d been bouncing his leg hard enough to shake the counter, or that he’d already chewed through three of his pencils - Veronica noticed it all, and she was familiar enough with him to know that he had something on his mind.

“W-What?”

“Out with it.” She leaned back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “Whatever you need to tell me, just say it.”

He rolled his eyes, his grin forced as he ran his hands over his thighs to keep her from seeing how badly they trembled. “Who says I-”

His voice faded at the sharp look she gave him, and he groaned, head falling into his upturned palms.

“Fine.” he mumbled, unable to bring himself to look at her. “Christ, I… A-Are you busy this Saturday?” He waited a moment, then another, her prolonged silence enough to force his head up. He tried his best not to wither under her searching gaze.

Slowly, she replied, “Depends.”

“Is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?” Eddie asked, his voice coming through louder than he’d meant it to.

“It’s a ‘maybe’.” She wouldn’t admit she enjoyed watching him squirm in his seat, but she had enough mercy to not prolong his suffering. “Why’d you ask?”

“Harrington’s having this Halloween Spooktacular thing or whatever.” he explained, gaze dropping to the pile of chewed pencils near his worksheet, hands moving as he spoke. “Dude throws this huge party every year. If you want to go, I… I wouldn’t mind giving you a ride.”

“Munson-”

“Forget it - it’s stupid anyway.” Eddie was quick to interject, shaking his head as he fumbled with the papers atop the counter. “I’ll tell him that-”

“No, hold on.” With just a hand laid atop his, she’d stilled his nervous jittering, forcing his eyes to hers. After a beat of silence, she continued, “I’m not busy Saturday.”

“You… You’d actually want to go?”

“Sure, it sounds like fun.” She pulled her hand away, elbows coming up to rest atop the counter, hands tucked beneath her chin as she turned toward him. “What? Don’t look so surprised - I have a life, y’know.”

“Do you?” Eddie said with a smile - a genuine one, his nerves finally beginning to settle. “I don’t think I’d recognize you without a textbook smushed against your face-”

“Ha ha, aren’t you just a gas.” she replied, rolling her eyes, turning her attention back to the assignment at hand. “Should I wear a costume?”

“If you want.” He leaned in toward her, pulling a fresh pencil from her Trapper Keeper and ignoring the annoyed swat on the arm she gave in return. “I’m taking the kids trick-or-treating before, so it’s your call.”

“Are you dressing up?”

“Curious, are we?” He gave her a devilish grin, waving the pencil in her face, poking the eraser to her nose. “Why d’ya want to know? You lookin’ to match with me? 'Cause I’ve really been digging the whole Ozzy and Sharon-”

“Shut up, Munson.”

Parking his van in front of Veronica’s manicured lawn, Eddie gave himself one final look in the foggy vanity mirror, adjusting his eye patch before shoving open the door.

“Hurry up!” Dustin said, leaning over the center console, with Mike, Lucas, Max, and the Byers brood all sharing the sentiment. “We gotta get there before all the good candy’s gone!”

“Patience, little sheep, for your master will return in but a moment’s time.” The flourish in his words made the curly-haired boy smile, meanwhile Max rolled her eyes, turning to look at him, hands still working to fix Lucas’s costume - they’d gone matching as Bonnie and Clyde.

“Just go, Munson.”

Eddie shut the door behind him, his radiating confidence dripping away as he approached her front steps, and he rubbed his hands along his tattered pants before ringing the doorbell, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he made out a sudden flurry of footsteps from inside the house. The door swung open, and he squinted at the sudden burst of light.

“You’re early.” Veronica huffed, tying off the end of her lengthy braid, pulling the thing over her shoulder. She stared at Eddie, eyes roaming his body, taking in the full… breadth of his pirate’s costume. He, too, stared at her, but he was alone in the way his body flushed with heat; he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his vest, struggling to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat.

Realizing he’d been standing there looking like a fool, he finally managed to say, “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“I… uh… What’s new, pussycat?” He could have punched himself at his choice of words - why the Hell was he quoting Tom Jones, of all things? Worst of all, his stomach sank at the way Veronica’s emerald eyes widened, her mouth dropping into a frown as she spun around for him.

“God, is it that bad?” she asked, speaking of her costume - she’d decided to go as a black cat, complete with matching ears and a fluffy tail sewn onto the back of her jumpsuit. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“No! No, it’s…” He couldn’t help giving her another once-over, trying to be as objectionable as he could. “You look cool. The legwarmers are a nice touch.”

“Eddie! C’mon, dude!” Dustin shouted at them, his body halfway out the driver’s side window. “We need to leave!”

Eddie shook his head, biting back a groan; Veronica couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at his frustration. “I swear, these kids were raised by wolves.” he mumbled to her, turning around before shouting back, “We’re having a conversation here!”

“Well, have it over here! Candy waits for no man!”

He shook his head, looking back around, his hand extended in offering. “Shall we, kitty?”

With a roll of her eyes, she placed her hand in his, noting how their nail polish matched, and she bit the inside of her mouth to keep from smiling too widely as he led her toward the van.

Much to everyone’s relief, the streets of Loch Nora were still overflowing with candy by the time they’d arrived; led on by “Captain No-Beard” - as Eddie had dubbed himself - they picked at every house, filling their sacks and plastic grocery bags with only the crème de la crème of Halloween treasure.

Trailing behind the boys, Max and El stuck by Veronica, laughing at how excitable they were, watching as they raced up the driveway of a particular McMansion known for giving out full-size candy bars, shouting all the while.

“God, he’s so weird.” Max said with a shake of her head.

“Which one?” El replied, the two collapsing in a fit of giggles.

“Eddie! He’s just…” Max added, making a face that had the younger girl bending over in laughter.

“Honestly? He’s not that bad.” said Veronica, stunning both girls to silence; they shared a look between them before turning to stare at her like she’d grown a second head. “He’s starting to grow on me, I think.”

“Eddie?” Max asked, tossing her sack of sweets over her shoulder. “Eddie Munson is growing on you?”

Veronica shrugged. “I mean, yeah, kind of.” She looked between them, the pair sharing identical, disbelieving looks. “C’mon, guys, it’s not that weird.”

The girls gave her a look as if to say “Yes, it is”. “Are you friends now?” El asked, looping her arm through Veronica’s as they tried to keep pace with the rest of the group.

“We are.”

“Huh.” Max huffed.

“What?”

“You sound pretty happy about that.”

Veronica rolled her eyes and ruffled up the girl’s hair, pulling a giggled shriek of protest from her. “Maybe I am.”

Having left the kids at Mike’s for what was sure to be a night of sugar-fueled screaming, Eddie and Veronica made the drive to Steve’s for his Halloween party, a companionable silence settling between them. Finding an open spot among the cars littering the front yard, Eddie was quick to hop out of the driver’s seat, making his way around to open the door for her.

“Ready?” he asked, following her line of sight to the massive expanse that was the Harrington house.

She nodded, leading the way to the door. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

For the most part, things went well; Eddie had been right in forcing Steve’s hand into buying so much beer - the partygoers were burning through cases like they were cans of water. He mainly kept to his usual group of friends - Steve had invited all of Corroded Coffin, much to their surprise, and they spent most of the night together. Veronica stayed at the opposite end of the massive living room, her attention occupied by Nancy and Robin. But, every so often, one would be caught looking at the other, and they’d give a smile, a wave, a roll of the eyes as they made a funny face.

As the night dragged on - and the party only seemed to grow louder with each downed drink - Eddie spotted Veronica alone near the staircase. Cup in hand, he made his way through the writhing crowd; he had to lean in toward her to ask, “You alright?”

She nodded, but Eddie didn’t miss the way she shifted toward him. “I’m fine, it’s just… I’m kind of out of my element, y’know? This is a lot.”

“Too loud?” he shouted, relieved to have pulled a smile from her, small as it was.

“Something like that.”

And, after a moment, Eddie’s hand found its way to the small of her back, leading her up the staircase - and away from all the noise.

“Where are we-”

“Someplace quiet.” he answered, and the pair disappeared upstairs, not realizing they had more than a few pairs of eyes clocking their movements.

“Dude, are you seein’ what I’m seein’?” Jeff asked with a not-so-subtle nudge to Gareth’s arm as he nodded across the room.

“Dunno,” Gareth replied, downing the rest of his beer. “You seein’ Eddie sneak off with Veronica?”

“Yeah.”

Thomas chimed in, “You think they’re…?”

“Gross, dude.” Gareth answered, plucking Jeff’s cup from his hand and drinking what was left of it. “Him and…? Never.”

Upstairs, Eddie walked through the carpeted halls of the Harrington household with certainty, more familiar with the layout of the place than she was. And, stopping in front of a door at the end of the dim hallway, she could see the bright flash of his smile as he pushed them inside.

“Welcome to the Shire.” Eddie announced, arms wide as he spun around what Veronica was sure was the largest bedroom she’d ever seen - beyond the massive wall of windows overlooking the woods surrounding the house, the bed alone was nearly obscene in its size. Without a second thought, Eddie jumped onto it, bouncing as the mattress sank beneath him, his drink nearly spilling as he folded his arms behind his head.

“Should we really be in here…?”

“What, don’t want to be alone with the big bad pirate?” He sat up, crossed his legs, and tried for his best dastardly grin. “Are ye timbers shiverin’ yet?”

“Eddie…” she groaned, but sat along the edge of the bed opposite him, still looking around the room.

“Don’t get your whiskers in a twist, this is the guest room.” Setting his cup aside, he fell back onto the mound of pillows behind him and kicked off his boots. “So, you likin’ the party?” he asked, turning himself to face her, eyebrows drawn together in confusion as she… shrugged.

“I’ve never…” she began, struggling to put to words what she was feeling. “I don’t really go to parties.”

“Shocker.”

“Munson, come on-”

“Calm down, kitty - I’m joking.” he said; slowly, she relaxed onto the bed, only now realizing how tired she’d become. Were parties always this exhausting? “So, I’m guessing you’re not much of a drinker?” The shake of her head came as no surprise. “Smoker?”

At her sudden pause, Eddie perked up, and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor as she nodded.

“Christ, you’ve been keeping secrets from me!” He scrambled to his knees, moving closer to her atop the bed, giving her his undivided attention. “What’s your poison? Tobacco? Weed?”

“Uh… T-The second one.”

And Eddie collapsed onto the bed, hands pressed over his face as he let out the most exasperated sound Veronica had ever heard him make. “You’re out here partaking in the Devil’s lettuce and you didn’t tell me?”

“I tried it once, okay?” she said with a chuckle, which turned into a laugh as she caught sight of his pout. “I have a cousin back home who’s like, really big on the stuff.” Eddie watched as she laid back against the headboard, making herself comfortable. Was she comfortable around him? God, he hoped so. Not wanting to prolong the silence any further, he racked his mind for something - anything - to say.

“You know what goes great with weed? Candy.” He pulled his hefty bag from a pocket inside of his vest, spilling its contents in front of him.

“What?”

“Let me see your stash.” Seeing how she was unconvinced, he continued, adding in a wag of his brows for good measure, “C’mon - show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

But, with their piles spread out before them, somewhere between shelling out for Skittles and counting out sticks of licorice, their light-hearted attempt at trading devolved into full-on bartering.

“Look, three mini Milky Ways for a Kit-Kat bar does not a fair trade make, sweetheart.” Eddie groaned, hands caught in his hair as he looked at the trio of chocolates in her palm. “You got anything better?”

“What about the Whatchamacallit?” she asked, pointing at the golden candy bar to his left. “I’ll trade you that for my M&Ms.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, arms crossing over his chest. “And the Snickers.”

“What? No way. How is that fair?” she asked, shaking her head, her fuzzy ears flopping around with the movement. “You can take the Junior Mints.”

“What, like I’m eighty?” he whined, throwing his hands up. “Which house gave you those, anyway?”

“Do you want ‘em or not, pirate boy?”

“...Fine.” he grumbled, snatching the candy from her pile, rolling his eyes as she caught the chocolate bar he’d tossed her way. “Just know this is highway robbery. And you still won’t let me have that Snickers?”

“Nope, that’s-”

“Steve!” A shrill cry came from outside the window; the pair looked at each other, a beat passing between them before they scrambled off the bed, running toward the window. “Oh, for the love of- Get down, now!”

Looking down onto the lawn, they could see Robin and Nancy waving to what they could only assume was Steve stumbling across the roof. Eddie shook his head, and calmly walked across the room for his boots before moving back to the window. Throwing it open, he’d managed to get one leg out before he felt Veronica pulling him back inside. “Hey-”

“What are you doing?”

“Stevie likes to climb stuff when he’s drunk.” he explained, voice flat. “Lucky for him, I can climb sober.”

“Munson-”

“Alright, sober-ish.”

Veronica tightened her grip on his arm, pulling him toward her. “You’re not going out there.”

“You worried about me, kitty? I’m touched.” He knew his smile would only infuriate her, but he couldn’t help himself. “I’ll be right back, okay? You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

From the look on her face, she didn’t believe him. “You’re sure?”

“Promise.” Eddie replied, and he hooked his pinkie with hers, shaking their hands to reassure her he’d be careful. Then, climbing out the window, his voice carried across the yard as he shouted, “Hey, handsome! Come here often?”

In the early hours of the morning, with the party having finally died down, Steve safe and secured in his bedroom, and the bulk of the mess cleaned and trash collected, Eddie and Veronica made the drive back to the humbler parts of Hawkins. She was quiet, unusually so, but Eddie chalked up her silence to exhaustion. He couldn’t blame her - he was tired, too. More than once, he’d caught his eyes falling shut whenever he stopped at the traffic lights. As the glow of her house came into view, he gave her a nudge, thinking she’d fallen asleep.

“Rise and shine, kitty.” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt, his motion stilling at the sound of… giggles? He turned to look at her, and found her face flushed, eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

“I had fun tonight.” she said, looking at him as though he’d hung the moon and stars. He returned her smile with a shy one of his own, a hand moving to rub at the back of his neck.

“So did I.” he admitted, falling back against his seat. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d want to go.”

She made a face at him, shaking her head. “What? And miss seeing you in your Sunday best?” she asked with a gasp, a hand pressed against her chest for emphasis. “Never.”

Eddie blinked at her, his mind wiped clean at her words. “Was that…? Was that a joke, Windsor?” he asked, disbelief clear in his voice, which only worsened when her giggles turned into full-bellied laughs. “You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“You think I’m funny…!” she said in-between breaths, leaning over the center console to poke at his cheek.

“I most certainly do not-”

“You do!” she exclaimed; Eddie made a quick grab at her hand before she’d managed to shove her fingers into his mouth. “You’re smiling! I can even see your teeth-”

Slowly, carefully, he set her hand down and closed the distance between them, taking in a deep breath, frowning when the acrid sting of alcohol reached his nose.

“Did you have something to drink?” he asked, his tone more serious than it’d ever been with her. Again, she giggled, pulling away, her hands moving to clamp over her mouth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His voice began to rise - he knew that Veronica’d never had a sip of alcohol, her tolerance worse than non-existent. “Windsor, what did you have?”

She pouted at his words, thinking he was getting angry with her. “I got thirsty while you were rescuing Steve, so I may have finished off your punch-”

Eddie blinked at her, certain he'd left his cup nearly full. “Veronica, I laced that with vodka.”

“Really?” Her face contorted in disgust, the bridge of her nose wrinkling as she shook her head, stuck out her tongue. “No wonder it tasted gross. Y’like drinkin’ that stuff?”

With a groan, Eddie shoved open his door, and Veronica jumped when he suddenly appeared at her side, reaching over to unbuckle her seatbelt. “C’mon, pussycat, out the van.” He reached for her waist, but she wriggled away from him, and he just barely caught her by the foot before she’d managed to crawl into the back.

“Unhand me, swashbuckler!” she shouted, frowning as he kicked the door shut with his foot, holding her by the elbow in his attempt to steer her toward the house.

“Yeah, and I’ll make you walk the plank if you don’t get moving!” he mumbled, trying not to focus on the way she’d all but melted against him. Making their way up her front steps, Veronica fumbled through her purse for her keys, back to Eddie’s front all the while. He bit back his smile at her elated laugh at finally having found the damn thing, buried deep beneath the pile of candy she’d managed to haggle from him. She unlocked the door, and he moved in close, holding her steady as he asked, “You think you’ll make it up the stairs, or do you need me to carry you?”

She leaned into him, head pressed to his shoulder, looking up at him as she smiled, “I’ll make it. Got nine lives, remember?” He lamented the loss of her warmth as she stepped inside, leaning against the doorframe to speak to him. “And I meant what I said - I did have fun tonight.”

“Then my work here is done.” Eddie replied, already taking a step back toward his van. “Promise you’ll call if you need anything?” he asked, watching as she nodded, her ears nearly slipping from her head.

“Sweet dreams, Captain No-Beard.” she hiccupped, her words beginning to slur together, her smile turning into something soft, gentle - and Eddie knew it had to be the alcohol, certain she’d never have graced him with such a look otherwise.

“Go to bed, Windsor.” he said, his voice tight, hands fisted in his pockets. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

And she rolled her eyes at him, telling him rather plainly, “Y’know, you’d be a lot more handsome if you weren’t such a big ol’ fuddy-duddy,” before shutting the door, leaving him alone on her front steps, wondering who in their right mind still said things like “fuddy-duddy”.

Only after he’d returned home, washed off his face paint, showered and gotten into bed did the first half of her sentence register with him, and the ensuing flush that’d swept across his body was so intense, he had to kick off his blanket to keep from overheating.

“She thinks I’m handsome…?”

#ride the lightning #becca.fic #you know i just had to do a halloween chapter #is this accurate???how to people celebrate halloween #anyway i can totally imagine eddie going as a pirate or something equally as ragamuffin #lucas and max in a couples' costume is everything to me #they absolutely would match and make their costumes more ridiculous every year #next year they'll go as ranch and celery or something #this took so long because the holidays wrecked me but it's here!!!!!

12 notes · View notes

becca-alexa · 1 year

Text

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Three: 2 Minutes to Midnight

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: What will a week's worth of phone calls reveal? What will Eddie and Veronica tell each other over the phone that they can't face-to-face?

Word Count: 4.1K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note:

Author's Note: phone calls are rough to write about???super dialogue heavy and not a lot of descriptions, but i think i did okay! three of the days are from eddie's perspective, and one is from veronica's

and a huge thank you and a big ol' hug to @rollforhellfire for being SO DANG SUPPORTIVE ABOUT READING THIS AND GREAT AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU ARE SO NICE-

Sunday

The warm hum of the television, the distant cheering of the on-screen crowd had long since been forgotten, ignored as Wayne twisted himself around, hanging over the back of the couch as he watched his nephew pace the ten steps between the phone mount and the kitchen, swearing he’d suffer a bout of vertigo just from how frantically he was moving. Eddie groaned loudly, hanging up the line for what, to Wayne, felt like the hundredth time, hands dragging through his lengthy hair as he leaned against the kitchen counter - and Wayne counted to five before he was back at the phone, all but yanking it off the wall, dialing the number even he’d memorized by now.

“Son, you’ve picked up that damn phone too many times.” he called out from his seat across the trailer, sinking back into the couch as he turned back toward whatever Sunday-night sports rerun he’d tuned in to. “Just call her already.”

Eddie shook his head, hanging up the call, his forehead pressed against the wall as he tried to hide how sorely his hands trembled by shoving them into his pockets. “I-I can’t…”

“She don’t bite, y’know.” Wayne said with a tired laugh, boredly flipping through the channels, listening to the familiar rhythm of Eddie picking up the phone, dialing, and hanging up before the first ring.

“I probably shouldn’t.” he said aloud, reasoning more with himself than with his uncle, shaking his head. “I bet she’s sleeping.”

Wayne turned himself back around, the remote clenched in his wrinkled hand nearly to cracking, his voice flat and unemotive. “Ed, just call her. It ain’t that hard.”

“I can’t!” Eddie exclaimed, groaning again, his hand hovering for a moment over the phone before falling back to his side in a white-knuckled fist.

“Why not?” Wayne scratched at the side of his stubble-rough face, clearly struggling to understand why the boy was so nervous about a damn phone call; even when he’d been his age, he couldn’t recall ever being so shy about calling a girl. “What’s the worst she can do, hang up? It ain’t even quarter to ten. Why would she be asleep?”

“I don’t know, I-” He tried to come up with a reason - any reason - but even he knew that he’d given a piss-poor excuse; he couldn’t think of a single person under the age of sixty-five who’d be in bed by now, let alone anyone his age. Hell, even Erica’s bedtime was past ten o’clock. He fumbled and stammered for a decent rebuttal, but was left with naught. “Fine!” he shouted, pulling at his hair with one hand as he pulled the phone back off the wall and dialed Veronica’s number with the other. “I’m calling her, okay?”

With his stomach in knots, he counted the rings through the speaker - one, two, three… He tried to remind himself to keep breathing, his tongue darting out to glide over his dry lips. Four, five, six… His gaze dropped to his socked feet, and he gnawed on the inside of his mouth to keep from losing his nerve. Seven, eight-

“He…llo…?” Veronica’s sleep-heavy voice barely made it through the line, but it filled Eddie with panic so instantaneous, so immediate, that he all but crushed the phone in his desperation to hang up, hands still raised to the wall as he twisted around, shouting at his uncle.

“Eddie-”

“I told you she’d be asleep!” He pressed his fists into his eyes, a wave of unfamiliar embarrassment washing over him. Christ, he should have just called Nancy-

Wayne rolled his eyes, hiding his surprise at the fact that his nephew had been right. “Well, what teenager goes to bed at 9:30?”

Eddie could feel his palms begin to sweat, the tips of his fingers going cold. “She does, obviously!” He nearly shrieked, his voice cracking, face already scalding from his blunder - and the high-pitched yelp he let out at the shrill ring of the phone at his side didn’t help with his mounting unease. His head snapped toward his uncle, but the man had long since returned to watching the game - another refereed snooze-fest, something about bats and bases. It wasn’t until the third ring that he’d managed to scrounge together enough courage to pick up.

“Hello…?” He hated how nervous he sounded, and prayed that Veronica wouldn’t catch on.

“What’s the matter, Munson?” Veronica’s voice was deadpan, devoid of even her usual annoyance with him. Eddie bit at his lip.

“H-How’d you know it was me?”

“Lucky guess.” she responded; Eddie could hear her fight off a yawn, followed by a rather loud rustle of… blankets? Was she getting out of bed? “Why’d you call me?”

“Look, I-I’m really sorry-”

“I’m not asking for apologies, dingus.” Her voice was clearer now, more alert, more awake. “I’m asking why you called.”

Eddie took in a breath, his eyes clenched shut as he blurted out, “Could we go over the flashcards for Mitchell’s test tomorrow?” And, once he’d gotten started, his words gushed out of him in a nerve-addled soliloquy with no end in sight. “I would have gone over them myself, but I can’t find my set anywhere, and I really don’t think I’ll be ready to take it without going over them at least once, and-”

“Munson-”

“Listen, I-I didn’t want to call you this late-” Eddie ruffled a hand through his hair, his fringe standing on end as he tapped his fingers against the top of his head, his mouth still moving at lightning speed.

“Munson, slow down-”

“I’ve looked everywhere for those damn flashcards, but it’s like they just disappeared and you’re the first person I could think of-”

“Munson!” Veronica hadn’t meant to shout, but she couldn’t think of any other way to get him to shut up. “It’s fine, honestly!” Her words came out at the end of a laugh, and Eddie all but sighed in relief at the sound of it, the tightness in his shoulders finally relaxing, the knot in his stomach unfurling as he took in another breath. “Just give me a sec to find my set, okay? We’ll go through them all together.”

Eddie shook his head, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t actually see him. “O-Okay.” he replied; he kept the receiver balanced against his ear as he sat back at the counter, his notebook already open to a fresh page, pencil in hand as he listened as she moved about her room.

“Hey, Munson?”

“Yeah?” His response came too quick, too impatient, but he hadn’t caught onto it. It made Veronica smile, his eagerness.

“Don’t get weird about calling.” He could hear her sit down, just barely making out the creaking of a chair against a hardwood floor. “I’m your tutor, remember? I’m here to help you,” He just barely caught himself melting at the sound of her voice, his back tensing straight against the low back of the barstool he’d been sitting on, an unwelcome heat creeping up his neck. “Call whenever you need me.”

“You sure?” he couldn’t help but ask, his usual brand of mischief back in its full measure, and he smiled as he added, “That’s a big promise, Windsor - who says I won’t need you all the time? Imagine the unfiltered havoc I’ll wreak on your phone bill-”

Her voice was soft, unusually so, as she said, “Munson?”

Eddie paused, swallowing at the sound of it. “Yeah?”

“Shut up, will you?”

Tuesday

“Windsor residence, this is Veronica speaking.”

“Christ, you always this formal?”

Veronica rolled her eyes nearly to soreness at the sound of Eddie’s voice, sparing a glance at her wrist watch as she threw her legs over the edge of her bed - 9:00, it read. Good, she thought, already walking to her desk, at least he remembered. “What’s your damage?”

“Ouch, Windsor.” Eddie feigned, and she could hear what sounded like him falling back onto his couch, phone cord undoubtedly stretched nearly to snapping. “Must I have a reason to call my favorite-”

“Munson.”

“Fine.” he huffed, the sound pulling a smile from her - something that, unbeknownst to even her, was happening much too often to be involving the likes of him. “I have a worksheet due for Garcia tomorrow.”

Veronica pulled at the wooden chair tucked beneath her desk, sitting on it backwards, arms folded over its back as she balanced the handset against her shoulder, fingers picking away at her chipped nail polish. “And you couldn’t have brought this up while I was there?”

“I forgot, okay?” She couldn’t help but let out a heavy - albeit quiet - sigh, spinning herself around in her seat, reaching into her purse set on the floor beside her to pull out a heavy three-ring binder. “Will you help me or not?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I should.” She knew she shouldn’t be teasing him, not when he sounded so desperate, but she couldn’t help herself. “What’s the magic word?”

“Look, Windsor, I really don’t get any of this shit-”

“Ah.” she said, voice monotone. “There it is.”

“Hey, you said-”

“Hold your horses, will you? I’m just kidding.” Keeping the phone against her ear, she heaved her bag onto her lap, elbow-deep in the thing, the rustling clearly being heard through the line. “At least let me get my glasses.”

“...Don’t you wear those all the time?”

“I wear them to read, vision’s fine otherwise.” she replied, her voice distracted as she pulled out a lilac-colored case from one of many pockets. “Just easier to keep them on while I’m at school.”

“But you wear them all the time when you’re with me?” Veronica froze, pausing mid-way from setting her bag back down. Did he sound… disappointed? “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with wearing glasses…! I mean, your eyes are just really-”

“Focus, Munson.”

“Right.” he said quickly, cutting himself off. “Sorry.”

Together, and moving at the pace she’d since learned to take with him, they worked through the problems on the worksheet; every so often, Veronica would chime in, offer a hint, guide him through a particularly challenging equation. But, for the most part, she was there for reassurance - Eddie knew the material, knew the answers, but two - nearly three - failed attempts would grind anyone’s academic confidence down to a nub. As the hours ticked by, and as they neared the end of the worksheet, Veronica found herself resting against her arms, head tucked away within the warmth of her elbow, and it took longer than she’d care to admit for her to hear Eddie’s voice calling out to her.

“Windsor? Windsor, you still with me?”

“Huh…?” Her head shot up, the phone nearly dropping from where it’d been nestled against her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m… I’m here, sorry.”

“Go to bed.” Were she not so exhausted, she would have picked up on the sudden tenderness in Eddie’s voice, the way he’d dropped his tone, his words quiet and soft-spoken. She rubbed at her eyes with a closed fist, swallowing a yawn as she pinched at her cheek, trying to wake herself up. “I can finish the rest on my own.”

“No, we’re almost done-”

“I can handle it from here.” She was sure she groaned at his words - whether in frustration or relief remained to be determined. “I’ve kept you up long enough.”

“Sure…?” she mumbled, already pushing herself away from her desk, her bed looking awfully inviting as she tried to keep from tripping over her own feet.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just go to sleep.” Eddie said, keeping his voice gentle, a hesitant smile hidden somewhere beneath it all. “And… uh… thanks for the help, I guess.”

Veronica crawled beneath the welcoming embrace of her covers, the phone still pressed against her ear as she turned onto her side. “Don’t worry, Chief - I’m always on duty.”

“Inspector Gadget?” Eddie sputtered, his laugh screeching through the speaker, Veronica too tired to register his disbelief. “You’re seriously quoting Inspector Gadget to me? My, oh my, Windsor, are you a nerd?”

“Takes one to know one.” She yawned, eyes growing heavy. “I should start charging you overtime for this.”

“And what’ll I pay you in, huh? You lookin’ for some top quality grass?”

Veronica smiled at his quip, lost in the haze of a half-way dream, feeling herself being lulled away by the sound of his voice. “Shut up, Munson.” she mumbled, reaching to turn off her bedside lamp. “G’night.”

And Eddie was left alone, the disconnected call tone buzzing in his ear as he stood midway between his haphazard excuse of a kitchen and living room, his whispered sigh of “Goodnight, Veronica,” going unheard - yet it’d left a telltale ache in his chest all the same.

Wednesday

Eddie couldn’t calm the trembling of his leg, nor could he hope to stop the way he was gnawing on his lip to the point of drawing blood as he waited for the call to connect, a throbbing headache settling behind his eyes as he listened to the grating ringback tone for what felt like the dozenth time. Come on, he pleaded into the phone, answer it!

“Munson?” Veronica’s voice was a Godsend, and he fell back against the wallpapered wall behind him in relief at the sound of it.

“Windsor!” Eddie exclaimed, dragging a still-shaking hand down his face. “Christ, I’ve been trying to call you for, like, twenty minutes!” He swallowed, forcing himself to breathe as he settled himself in his seat. “Where have you been?”

“Taking a shower…?”

“A sho-? Whatever!” Eddie shouted, roughly pulling out his notebook, muttering out a slew of curses as it slid across the linoleum counter and onto the floor. “Gondor's callin' for aid and I'm losing my shit.”

“Alright, alright, easy!” she said, which only further addled his fraying nerves. “What’s the problem this time? Is it Garcia again?”

“O’Donnell.”

“English?” His stomach sunk at how incredulous she sounded, already knowing what she'd say next, anticipation leaden in his chest. “But, that’s your best subject-”

“I know!” The pencil he'd been holding between his fingers cracked, snapped, and he fished through his baggie for another. “Hence why I’m losing my shit-”

“Okay, calm down, I heard you the first time.” He heard her shuffle around, her chair creaking underneath her as she sat down. “Isn’t it a creative writing assignment? Just do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but I can’t think of anything!” Eddie groaned, his head dropping to the counter with an audible clunk, his hands already beginning to shake as a crush of nervous thoughts flooded into his mind. “This thing’s due Friday and I haven’t even started it!”

“Well, do you have anything in mind?”

He made a sputtering, almost offended, sound at her question, and he waved a hand in front of him, all but shouting, “Clearly not-”

“Munson, I’m trying to help you.”

"Sorry, I'm just…" He chewed at his lip, dragged a hand down his face. "I'm kinda freakin' out here."

"Do you have a subject you'd want to write about? A topic?” He tried to focus on how she was moving around again, the patter of her feet just barely making it through the receiver. “Maybe a genre? That might help you get started."

"A genre?"

"Yeah, y'know, a category of composition?" Clear as day, he could imagine the way she’d likely just rolled her eyes at him. "We got thriller, sci-fi, romance-"

"R-Romance…?" he muttered.

"Need me to define that, too?"

"I know what romance is, Windsor." he scoffed, pushing himself off his chair as he walked around his living room, the phone cord wrapped around his fist. "I'm just thinking."

But, after more than a moment of silence, Veronica couldn’t help but ask, “...Care to share with the class?”

"...I think I want to write one." Eddie clenched his eyes shut, jaw tight as he all but whispered his reply.

"What was that?"

"I-I… want to write a romance." he repeated, not much louder than before.

"Munson, I can’t hear you-"

Equal parts frustrated and mortally embarrassed, he exclaimed, "I want to write a romance!" The phone cord fell limply from his hand before he’d dragged it through his hair, pulling at it, desperate to distract himself as he followed with, “Geez, you want me to shout it out the window next?” He waited for her response - something scathing, he’d expected - but nothing came.

No sharp retort.

No grating comment.

Just silence - and it terrified him.

“Windsor, you really gotta say something soon, ‘cause you’re making me feel like a total weirdo-”

His words pulled her from the swirling mist of her thoughts, and she yelped, “No! No, I’m just… I’m just surprised, I guess?” He heaved out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, falling against the back of the couch as he flipped the end of a curled lock between his fingers. “Never would’ve pegged you as a romantic, Munson.”

“You haven’t-”

“Finish that joke, and I’ll hang up.”

And Eddie laughed, clear and open-hearted, at her threat, baseless as it was.

“Alright, so I have that settled - what do I do now?”

“Don’t you write stories for your campaigns?” He could hear her gentle exhale, one of someone falling back against something soft, followed by the rustle of blankets. “Think of this as one of those.” Her response was frank, blunt, yet it still stunned him utterly stupid, his mouth repeatedly opening and closing as he tried to think of something coherent to say. “...Hello? Earth to Munson? You still there?”

When his words finally returned to him, he mumbled, “You’re a genius.”

“I try.”

“No, seriously, you’re a genius.” He shot upright, running to his notebook, the phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder and his hand worked furiously over the blank page, ideas for plots and characters pouring ceaselessly from his fingertips. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Glad to be of service.” she responded, adding, “So, you’re okay now?”

“Oh, I’m more than okay…!” Tearing himself away from his work, he hastily said, “I’ll call you later, alright? Thanks for the help, sweetheart!”, before slamming the phone against the wall.

Veronica was slow to set her phone aside, Eddie’s words echoing through her mind; even after she’d turned off her bedside lamp, laying in darkness, the sentiment lingered.

He hadn’t even realized he’d said it, and he never would, too far lost in his own little world.

Friday

“A little early to be calling, isn’t it, Munson?”

Eddie bounced along the balls of his feet, his frizzed hair bobbing up and down with the motion. “Couldn’t wait.” He twirled the phone cord around his fingers, tugging it along with him as he walked to and fro about the trailer, his feet dragging through the aged carpeting. “Just got home. Too excited.”

“About…?”

“Finishing that paper!” he barked, his words trailing off into a laugh as he clapped a hand against one of the couch cushions. “God, the look on O’ Donnell’s face when she saw it was golden!”

Veronica let out a small laugh - a chuckle, really, but it catapulted his already-soaring emotions to heights unforeseen. “That impressive, huh?”

“It better’ve been - that shit was fifteen pages long!” He sounded so happy; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever gotten so excited over an assignment. “Even got to class early to make sure I was the first one to hand it in.”

Veronica’s voice dropped, quieted, disbelief sprinkling her words as she asked, “You… You wrote a fifteen-page story?”

“Hell yeah, I did!” Even though he knew she couldn’t see him, Eddie beamed, nodding his head in response. “Best thing I’ve ever written, if I do say so myself.”

He heard the now-familiar sound of her getting into bed, of her blankets rustling, the creaking of what he could only assume to be her headboard as she sat back against it. “You’re really taking this whole thing seriously, huh?” Stunning him, her tone gentled, mellowed out, reaching out in its warmth as she said, “I’m proud of you, Munson.”

Eddie swore felt the air leave his lungs. “You...You are?” He could barely hear himself, and he swallowed back an unwelcome knot in his throat as he walked back to where the phone had been mounted, his shoulder leaned against the wall.

“Well, yeah.” He realized with a start that he’d been waiting for sarcasm, yet it never came, finding instead a genuine honesty that - were he being true with himself - left him more than a bit misty-eyed. “I am. Why wouldn’t I be…?”

Even through the phone, he knew that the atmosphere between them had changed. He licked at his lips once, twice, trying to keep from shying away from what he’d been aching to ask for weeks. “Can I ask you something?” Hearing her hum of approval, he continued, “Why are you doing this?”

She paused, took in a breath. “Doing… what, the tutoring?”

“Yeah.” Again, he nodded, alone in the trailer, his voice now small and uncertain. “Why’d you agree to do it?”

“...Do you want the truth?” she asked.

“Always,” he replied.

“I was curious about you.”

Eddie stammered, struggling to think of something to say. “You… You were curious about me?” A rising feeling slowly came to a boil in his stomach, his chest tight, limbs heavy as he slowly sunk to the floor, holding the phone to his ear with both hands. “Windsor, we hated each other-”

“No, you hated me.” He felt her words like a shot to the heart, visceral and raw. “I’ve never hated you. Disliked, sure - but never hated.” And she continued on, twisting the knife, beating him down even further. “I've seen the way you are with Dustin. With Lucas and Robin and… well, everyone. It… It hurt that you didn’t like me, and I just couldn’t figure out why.”

“Hey, I didn’t-”

At her trembling inhale, Eddie cursed the tears stinging his eyes, and he pressed his fist over one to drive them away. “When Ms. Kelley asked me to do this, I’d told her ‘no’ - but, after I thought about it, I went back and asked if anyone else had already agreed to do it. Nobody did, so I accepted.”

His head fell forward, hitting the knees he’d since tucked beneath his chin, his hair falling over him, fanned out as though to hide him from his shame. “Shit, I… I really was a dickhead, wasn’t I?” The laugh he gave was pitiful, just as he’d intended it to be - just as he'd felt. “Look, I’m sorry. For everything, I shouldn’t have-”

“Hey, it wasn’t like I was an angel either, y’know?” He could hear the smile in her voice, the sound of it pulling out one of his own, small as it was. “How about we agree to just let bygones be bygones?"

So flooded with relief, he nearly forgot to give her an answer. “So… What does that make us now? Acquaintances? Friends…?”

“Would you want us to be friends?”

“Honestly? I thought we already were.”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

Neither spoke for a while, each listening to the sound of the other’s breathing, unsure of what to say, how to proceed.

“Y’know, you’re nothing like how I’d thought you’d be.” Eddie admitted, ruffling a hand through his hair, face scalding as he tried to hide behind his palm.

“Oh? And how am I?”

Sweet. Warm. Kind. “Cool.” He fell back against the carpet, limbs spread in all directions. “God, I feel like such an asshole-”

She laughed at him, easing an ounce of the self-loathing that had settled within him. “Well, if it helps, you’re not how I’d thought you’d be, either.”

“I guess we’re both just chock-full o’ surprises, huh?”

Another prolonged silence befell them before Veronica said, “Look, I… I need to get going.” It was a lie, he knew, but he was grateful for it. “See you Monday?”

“Yeah, see you then.” He was certain he still sounded dejected, so he tried for a bit of levity. “I’ll be the one terrorizing the innocent masses. Black cloak, leather spellbook. Can’t miss it.”

She laughed again, the sound like bells, a salve to his ears, to his heart. “Goodnight, Munson.” Her send-off was different this time, he knew. It filled him with warmth, washing over him in rose-colored waves as his eyes fluttered shut, still laying on the ground in the middle of his living room.

“...‘Night, Windsor.”

#ride the lightning #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x original character #stranger things #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA chapter three babyyyyyyy #i realized that there's now a O'Donnell and an O'Connell and i'm not changing it they're best friends who wear matching outfits #phone call conversations are so hardddddd #fluff #slow burn #enemies to lovers #had to make him cry at least once #he'll probably cry more later (absolutely)#becca.fic

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