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astartothemoon · 1 year

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Blue Memories // E.M.

Summary: Eddie and Reader are strangers turned friends turned lovers turned exes. We follow them on one really tense car ride and experience the ups and downs of their relationship through the songs playing on the radio.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female Reader

Trigger Warning: Swearing. Mention of alcohol. Mention of food. Mention of drugs.

Wordcount: 10k + (It’s a big boy)

A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

Icicles hang from the eaves of the building like tiny cold daggers. A safety hazard for stressed-out Christmas shoppers.

A group of carolers stands a little off to the side, just far enough not to trigger the automatic doors but close enough to make sure none of the shoppers can ignore their incessant crooning.

It’s unfair, really. For her to judge them on their singing. They really aren’t all that bad and, on another day, she maybe would’ve even dropped a dollar or two into the red box saying “donations”. Today is not another day though. Today is today and today is very bad, no good, horrible, terrible, all kinds of shitty.

There are arguably worse places to be stuck with a non-working car than a Walmart parking lot an hour outside of Hawkins. That being said, there are also way better places.

Old Sally has been Old Sally before she was (Y/N)’s and though she has never been the most reliable car to begin with, she always pulled through in the end. Judging by the sounds she made just a few minutes ago when (Y/N) tried to start her, this might actually be The End. Full stop. Capital E. The one where there is no coming back from.

So what do you do when you’re stuck on your way home for the holidays? You call your family. You call mom, calm her down, convince her of the fact that you are okay and not dying and then you make her send dad to come get you. And it should work, right? In theory.

Only not today on this very bad, no good, horrible, terrible all kinds of shitty day.

Because dad has a broken leg from when he slipped on the ice so he can’t drive and mom already had a few eggnogs too many after her holiday party with the ladies from the salon.

“We can send someone else, hun. The Millers’ son is back in town, I’m sure he’d love to give you a ride.”

(Y/N) scoffed at her mother’s words. Kyle Miller had always been a fucking creep, lusting after her even back in high school. So she assured her mother she’d find another way home and told her not to worry.

And now it’s not her mother worrying. It’s her.

That’s what you get for stopping because you craved some flaming hot Cheetos, you dumbass.

She could walk, sure but what about her luggage? And what about the absolutely horrifying fact that she is a woman, it’s cold as fuck outside and about to get dark?

The movies teach us a lot of valuable life lessons. One of them — the most important one maybe — is to never say “it can’t get worse”. Because it will get worse. So much worse.

What the movies don’t tell you, is that even as much as thinking about it has the same effect. Because as soon as the thought crosses (Y/N)’s mind, it gets worse.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.”

(Y/N) wants to stab her fingers into her ears, all the way to her brain if possible. The caroller has a beautiful voice. A voice made to sing this melancholic Christmas classic. Again it’s not her fault that it pushes (Y/N) even closer to a breakdown. Only this time it’s not because of her current predicament. This song rips open wounds far older. Far deeper. Far more painful than anything life can possibly throw her way today.

Christmas lights paint the outside of Hawkins High in a kaleidoscope of bright colors as the soft fall of snow dusts the streets in a blanket looking like sweet powdered sugar.

The music coming from the inside floods out of the gym halls and reaches all the way to where Eddie’s van is parked at the edge of the parking lot.

The icy cold nips at their noses as Eddie and (Y/N) sit in the back of the car, feet dangling above the ground and the smell of weed wafting through the air.

“You’re a liar!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Eddie, you can’t be serious. Grandma got run over by a reindeer is nobody’s favorite Christmas song! “

His dopey smile sends little shivers down her spine. It always does. If there was a price to win for having the best smile, Eddie would always win. At least in her eyes. His smile is phenomenal. It’s breathtaking. It’s perfect. Sure, maybe it’s her loved-up, 16-year-old self talking who is completely, utterly, and unlucky in love with her best friend. But (Y/N) thinks of herself as a rather rational person and she’s almost sure it’s a widely known and accepted fact that Eddie Munson has the world’s best smile. People would have to be insane not to agree.

“Well, it’s mine.”

A frustrated huff falls from (Y/N)’s lips as she lets herself fall backward into the nest of blankets spread out behind them only for Eddie to follow suit just a second later.

“I can’t believe my best friend has the worst taste in Christmas music.”

“Hey, you are the one whose favorite Christmas candy are fucking candy canes.”

Their laughter echoes through the air like a song. One of hope and happiness and magic. This is what Christmas should always feel like, (Y/N) thinks. Easy and joyful and soft.

No stress and no fighting. No rush to be anywhere or do anything. Just here. Just this.

Her and Eddie and the snow and the sparkling lights. And some pretty good weed.

“Okay, okay next question. Ummm — what’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever been given?”

You — she thinks. The words tickle her at the tip of her tongue, ready to slip out. She can just barely swallow them back down. Really, it’s not something you tell your best friend. Even if it’s true. He came into her life during the Christmas season and he’s been the best thing to ever happen to her.

“My record player, probably.”

“Good answer.”

It’s silly — she’s well aware, how much Eddie’s approval means to her.

“What’s yours?”

“Nuh-uh. Can’t ask the same thing!”

Rolling her eyes at his antics she tries to come up with a different question.

“Okay then, what’s your favorite Christmas memory?”

Eddie considers his words for a moment, carefully crafting a response as if all the world’s fate depends on his reply.

“When I was a kid and had just moved into Wayne’s trailer permanently, that was the first proper Christmas I ever celebrated. It’s not like we had much or anything but it was a lot for a kid who never had anything. Wayne cut down a tree but we couldn’t fit it in the trailer so we put it up outside. Ate Chinese takeout and watched White Christmas — and I got a present.”

“What did you get?”

“A guitar.”

“Did you get Wayne something?”

“Mmmh a mug.”

Her heart fills with delight and love as he tells the story. Eddie rarely talks about his early childhood. Sometimes it feels like Eddie before Wayne never existed. And though both would never admit it, they love each other dearly. They don’t say it out loud but you can see it in so many things, including all the mugs proudly on display, hanging from hooks in the living room area of the trailer. Dozens of “thank yous” and “I love yous” captured in porcelain.

“ Have yourself a merry little Christmas — “

“ I love this song!”

“You do?”

“Mm-hm”

Eddie glances at her from the corner of his eyes then looks back towards the roof of the van. There’s a shyness about him suddenly, one she has seen so very rarely. Eddie isn't shy. He's loud and confident even if half of it is just for show. Overdramatic and dialed up to 11. He's not usually like this.

"Do you um — do you wanna dance?"

"Huh?"

"Do you wanna dance?"

His voice is clearer now, stronger, more assured. It took a moment for Eddie to hype himself up. Get the confidence to ask the question, not really knowing which outcome he is expecting, which ones he's hoping for.

"Do YOU want to dance, Eddie?"

He lifts himself off of the van and stands before her all lanky arms and wild curly hair. He's wearing a black button-down that he swears he borrowed from Wayne. (Y/N) doesn't buy it though, the shirt looks crisp and clean. Still the blackest of blacks that only lives through maybe 5 machine washes before it dulls to a dark gray.

"Figured it's Hawkins High winter formal. Might as well do what's expected of us. And you like this song so —"

Not wasting another second on hesitating, (Y/N) takes a hold of Eddie’s outstretched hand and lets him twirl her into his arms. His hands are just as cold as hers, ice against ice. And yet she wouldn’t change anything about this situation for anything in the world. If feeling delusionally happy comes with a few sacrifices, like freezing, she’ll happily take the risk.

“Eddie, since when do you dance?”

He shrugs his shoulders “There’s a lot of things I’d do to make you smile.”

The cold melts away to make room for something else. A warmth that overtakes her, flesh and mind and everything. A warmth from the inside. All consuming. Magical.

And as they sway to Frank Sinatra’s voice softly carried by the wind, the warmth doesn’t go away. It wraps them in a blanket, shielding them from the outside world. It’s a moment you want to keep forever. One of those where even right then, as it happens, you know it is so much more than a moment. It is forever a part of your story. A part of you.

Eddie lets go of her hands for a second and bends down before reaching his arm out up above their heads.

“Oh, would you look at that, a mistletoe.”

“Eds, that’s not a mistletoe.”

“Yes, it is!” he insists, that signature Eddie Munson smirk on his lips that lets you know that he is well aware that he’s wrong but there’s no way he’ll admit to it. He is committed to being wrong and to making you agree.

“It’s a pine branch. I literally saw you pick it up.”

Eddie takes a deep breath, the air turning into clouds against the cold winter winds, as soon as it leaves his lungs.

“Look, humor me here. Let’s just pretend this is a mistletoe and we’re holding up a tradition. It’s soooo much easier than admitting that I am head over heels, absolutely dumbass in love with you and I might go crazy if I don’t shoot my shot and kiss you at least once. Okay? If we pretend it’s all fun and games then it won’t be so brutal when you end up rejecting me. Okay? Cool!”

For a second she wants to scoff, tell him to stop joking, to stop playing her for a fool. But there is a sincerity in his eyes she can’t deny. A flicker of something that has always been there but she could never really put a name to. He’s not joking. Not even a little.

“ Okay, sure. Let’s pretend it’s a mistletoe. Cause otherwise I’d have to admit that I am also disgustingly in love with you. “

He smiles at her again, that big smile that makes her knees feel like jello. The one that could win all the prizes. Only this time it’s hers. This one smile and this one moment belong to her. To them.

“ Guess we’ll have to stick to the tradition then, huh? “

“ Guess so.”

… and have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

It’s a cold kiss. Lips chapped from the winter winds and cold fingers grasping even colder faces. It’s hungry and soft. It’s desperate and slow. It’s all a kiss can and should be and more. It’s a hundred little moments wrapped in a perfectly imperfect kiss.

“I think —” Eddie says as he pulls away just far enough to speak. “I think this is my new favorite Christmas memory.”

A flurry of snow starts descending from the sky, gloomy gray clouds pushing away all of the blue. Icy snowflakes gather on (Y/N)’s hat, her hair, her nose — shaking her from her daydream. Enough trips down memory lane. They always seem fun and harmless until you take a wrong turn, drive down a backroad and end up crashing the car and watch it all burn.

“Well fuck.”

It’s bad enough being stuck at a Walmart parking lot, it’s worse when the sky glowers at you, threatening you with the potential of a snowstorm.

“C’mon Sally, why’d you have to do this to me today? It’s Christmas time, don’t you have a heart?”

In place of a response, the old car lets off another puff of smoke from its popped hood.

“That sounds like a no to me!”

A stinging sensation spreads from her heart all the way to the tips of her fingers. His voice still sounds the same as it did 4 years ago. Really, it was stupid to expect anything else. 4 years seem like a lifetime but in reality, they are but a blink.

She doesn’t dare turn around as if standing there unmoving might make him go away. Like a predator walking on, bored by its prey. Only Eddie is no predator. He never was. Though all the town seemed to think differently, he was always a lover and never a fighter.

“You can say hi, you know.”

If life was a movie, this would be the slow-motion scene. The turning around looking at the ex, angel choir singing in the background, love instantly rushing back in.

Only love can only rush back if it ever left in the first place. Not if it was pushed in a metaphorical box, then shoved to the back of a dark metaphorical closet.

Facing him is scary. It’s also inevitable. Things are so shit today, it really can’t get worse. There’s no way.

He looks hot. And maybe that makes things a bit worse, actually. He’s still got the unruly curls and he’s still tall and lanky but the awkwardness of an 18-year-old has worn off and he looks more like the man he is than the boy he used to be.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hey (Y/N). You look good — but Sally. I don’t know about her.”

The fact that he talks to her so casually, both enrages and amuses her. Maybe 4 years really are only a blink but that doesn’t mean nothing ever changes.

“Thanks um — you too. Yeah, she started making weird sounds and then the smoke started and ugh. You think you can take a look?”

He grants her a smile and she wants to jump in front of a moving vehicle as the flutters in her heart start. It’s ridiculous that he still has this effect on her. Not after everything. Not after that night 4 years ago.

“I can but I can already tell you’re not driving her anywhere tonight and it’s about to start snowing real fucking heavy. Do you — do you want me to give you a ride home? Your parents’ place I mean. I assume that’s where you’re headed? “

“Hmm, yup. Uh — you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, I want to.”

She wants to punch him. Not in the face but maybe on the arm or something. Hurt him but not really really hurt him. For being so nonchalant. Casual. For being so nice when he had none of that to give that one night 4 years ago and all the months after, right until the day she left for college. Does he think this absolves him? It doesn’t. There is no redemption for breaking her heart, no matter how many good deeds.

But what is the alternative?

With a look at the sky and the looming darkness, (Y/N) lets out a sigh and grabs her luggage from the car. Eddie’s old rusty van is parked right next to her. It holds so many memories, none of which she wants to revisit.

“Christmas, The snow's coming down … “

The choir launches into their next song and a smile takes over Eddie’s face. A smile (Y/N) hasn’t seen in a long time. One that doesn’t have an effect on her at all whatsoever.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, no reason. It really doesn’t matter.”

Eddie likes Gareth’s house. Not just for the fact that the garage is big enough for them to practice in and his parents are nice enough to allow them to do so. It’s a nice place in general. It’s not big or flashy or anything but it’s homey and nice. For a kid growing up in a trailer park, it’s a palace. Not that he doesn’t appreciate what he has, he does. But it’s nice to dream. To imagine himself in a place like this one day, family included.

Walking up the driveway, guitar slung on his back, the icy ground crunches beneath his heavy boots. The garage door is closed so the boys must not have started practicing yet. Sometimes, when she’s home, Gareth’s mom makes them snacks or hot chocolate and they all sit around and pig out before playing some music. It’s nice of her to care for the boys even if they aren’t her kids. It gives him a little glimpse of what it must be like to have a mother.

“They're singing "Deck The Halls"

But it's not like Christmas at all

'Cause I remember when you were here

And all the fun we had last year”

A loud voice catches his attention, belting out the Darlene Love song. His eyes scan the neighborhood before settling on the source of the commotion.

The girl stands on a ladder leaning against the house across the street from Gareth’s. A garland of multicolored lights adorns the roof as she regards her work with pride. Her voice still rings through the neighborhood and it has Eddie in a chokehold.

A siren calling out to a sailor, enchanting him, bewitching him. It’s not that her singing is particularly good, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Yet something about it has Eddie mesmerized.

It doesn’t seem to bother her what people might think, she’s having a good time and that’s all she cares about. It’s nice, he thinks, to see someone not desperately trying to stick to society’s preconceived notions of what is considered cool. This girl is wearing a big woolen sweater and a hat that seems like someone handmade it and ran out of yarn halfway through so they had to continue with another color. By all means, this girl is not cool. Eddie thinks she might be the coolest person he’s ever seen.

And she’s dancing, shaking her hips to the beat of the song she’s singing. While standing on a ladder. Oh god, she’s dancing — on the ladder.

Life shifts into slow motion. He can almost see it happening before it does. One dance move a little too enthusiastic. A slip. A tumble. A thud as she hits the ground. It happens so slowly and too fast for him to intervene all at the same time. Though as soon as she hits the ground, Eddie shakes out of his mesmerized state and rushes over.

She’s looking up at the sky with a face scrunched in pain and what he can only assume is embarrassment. Her back is flat against the cold snowy ground.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

The girl slowly pries open one eye and glances at him in confusion. “Are you an angel?”

“Uh no — I’m just Eddie. I’m a friend of Gareth’s. He lives across the street. Did you hurt your head? “

Pushing herself off of the ground into a sitting position the girl smiles up at him sending tiny flutters through his heart. She’s gorgeous. Even with her mismatched hat and the snow in her hair.

“I’m okay. Just a bit bruised but I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? That was a mighty fall.”

“Was it embarrassing?”

“I don’t think anyone but me saw. And I for one think you put on one hell of a performance.”

Her laughter, he thinks, might be even better than her smile.

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not. I promise. Hey, what’s your name? “

“Oh sorry, so rude of me— “ she exclaimed before standing up and holding a glove-covered hand out to Eddie. “I’m (Y/N). I just moved here.”

“Well, again, I am Eddie. I’m in a band with Gareth who lives over there.”

“You’re in a band? “ her eyes widen at this revelation.

“Mmh. Corroded Coffin. We play mostly metal stuff.”

“That sounds amazing!”

That’s not the reaction he’s used to. Girls don’t usually take too kindly to his taste in music. It’s not to say there are none who enjoy metal, he just hasn’t found them yet. Until now it seems.

“It does?”

“It does! You think the band would be okay with me sitting in and listening to you guys practice? I don’t really have any friends yet and — “

“Yeah sure, absolutely!”

There’s no doubt in his mind the guys will be ecstatic. It’s not every day a pretty girl shows interest in their band … or them.

“Okay cool. Awesome. “

Walking towards Gareth’s house, their boots leave imprints on the fresh snow. A sign that makes Eddie aware that this is not a dream. This is actually happening. Maybe life is finally turning for him. Giving him something good. Someone special.

“Christmaasss, the snow’s coming down.”

She responds to his singing with a friendly shove of her shoulders against his “Oh come on. Now you’re taking the piss.”

“I’m not.”

She raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

“You know what that means, right?”

“What?”

“Now you have to play the song during practice.”

A smile takes over his face, pulling at the muscles of his cold cheeks.

“Huh, I think I can do that!”

He doesn’t know how to play the damn song but if it makes her smile like this, he might just have to figure it out.

“ Sooo — how’s the parents?”

Eddie’s voice cuts through the awkward silence. This is strange and unfamiliar. Back then, 4 years ago, there was never a moment of silence with them that came even close to being awkward or uncomfortable. They always had something to say, to joke around and be goofy. Even if they didn’t, they would bask in comfortable silence, happy to just be with each other.

This feels like a whole different life, an alternate universe. There is so much left to say between them, the air is thick with it. But this is not the time and place to say any of it. Maybe there will never be a time or place.

“Yeah, they’re good. I mean dad hurt himself the other day when he slipped on the ice in the driveway but you know how he is. Always clumsy.”

“Runs in the family.”

Almost. He almost gets a smile out of her. Almost.

“ I guess so. How’s Wayne?”

Eddie grins though he keeps his eyes fixed on the snowy road in front of them.

“Working too much. Watching reruns of the same old show. Nothing changed. Same old Wayne.”

It has always been like this, Eddie talking about his uncle. Though his words don’t give it away, the tone of his voice always does. It is filled with adoration, with gratefulness, and love. Wayne is the only proper family that Eddie has ever known and though neither of them will ever outright admit it, at least not sober, the two mean the world to each other.

She misses Wayne, (Y/N) can admit that much. He was always so sweet to her, letting her see behind the perpetually grumpy facade and see the soft-spoken, bighearted man he truly is.

“He still smoking?”

Eddie scoffs “ ‘course.”

“ He promised me he’d try quitting.”

“ He did try, for like 5 hours.”

(Y/N) shakes her head in mock disappointment. “Tell him I am not happy with him. And also tell him I said hi.”

“ Tell him yourself. You can come by whenever. I’m sure you’ll have a lot on your plate while you’re here but he’d love to see you.”

The thought of going back to the trailer fills (Y/N) with a sense of dread. Not because there is anything bad tied to it. No, that’s the problem. All her best memories are connected to the trailer. It’s all happiness and love. The best of times. Going back would only make her face the brutal truth that it’s all over, forever and she can get none of it back. All that’s left of those times are memories and heartbreak.

“ I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

He asks the question with the innocence of a child. Someone who really doesn’t see the issue. Sometimes she wonders if he does it on purpose or if he really doesn’t get it. Did he move on so easily? Is this not ripping him apart the way it does her?

“Eddie, ex-partners don’t usually go around to visit their ex’s family for the holidays. It’s — it would be awkward.”

She can tell he wants to say something. Can almost see it on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it down and nods in defeat.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

The awkward silence is back. Worse than before because now there’s the inkling of guilt nagging away at her. Is she being too harsh? She doesn’t want to hurt or disappoint Eddie, and she’d definitely love to see Wayne. But is it worth it breaking her own heart in the process? Does she not get to be bitter still at the heartbreak and the whole mess Eddie created 4 years ago?

The welcome to Hawkins sign is almost invisible through the thick snowfall as they pass it. It’s weird coming home for the first time in 4 years after spending the last few Christmases on vacation with her parents somewhere. It feels good. Involuntarily, she glances to her left at the boy who, despite it all, still holds her heart in his palms. It feels good and it also feels extremely heartbreaking at the same time.

Static fills the car as the radio signal finally gives up and bows to the harsh winter winds.

"Ah shit, hey take a look in the glove box there's some cassette tapes. I think there's even a Christmas one." Eddie instructs, struggling to drive on the icy roads.

Cold fingers reach out to the glove compartment. The fact that the first thing she sees is a little bag of weed shouldn’t be surprising her, it still paints a little smile on her face though. 4 years but a blink.

There are several tapes, Eddie’s chicken scratch writing indicating what’s on them. Iron Maiden. Sabbath. That one Beach Boys tape he doesn’t want anyone to know about.

And then there’s the Christmas tape. It’s the only one he owns. She knows this because she made it for him after complaining that he didn’t have any Christmas music to listen to during the festive season. There’s a sticker of a sparkly gold star and another of a candy cane stuck to the case and in big red letters it proudly exclaims “Eddie and (Y/N)’s MiX-mas tape.”

She thought she was so clever with that wordplay. If only that naive girl knew how things were gonna end up.

Shaky hands push the cassette into the player. It takes a moment and then the smooth voice of Nat King Cole fills the silence with his rendition of O Come, All Ye Faithful.

This time she can’t suppress the smile. A memory flushes her brain that is too precious and too wholesome and too — important for her to ever stop herself from smiling at the thought of it.

And it seems she’s not the only one.

Eddie dares to glance her way and when he catches sight of her smile, he lets the corner of his lips arch upwards too.

“That was a good Christmas, wasn’t it? “

“ Are you kidding me? That was the best Christmas.”

“What do you mean, Christmas is canceled? “

A gloomy mood rests over the entire trailer park. Families that had been so excited for the season's festivities, who had spent the last weeks barely getting by in order to save some money to be able to give their kids a happy Christmas, now sit inside their cold trailers with sad faces and heavy hearts.

“Power is out. Wayne and some of the neighbors have been trying to get the emergency generators going but those things are so damn old and no one ever comes around to check on them — you know, with us trailer park people being second-class citizens of Hawkins and all. I could maybe power my amp with that generator but that’s about it. Maybe a vinyl player. “

(Y/N) stands on the steps leading up to the Munson’s trailer, a cold dish of her mother’s casserole in her hand and a big silly red bow on top of her head. This isn’t what she had imagined the night to go. She was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with the Munsons. Watch White Christmas or Gremlins or Meet me in St. Louis while the casserole is in the oven. Maybe get a little tipsy on eggnog. Get a mistletoe kiss from her boyfriend and — if she’s really lucky a dance around the Christmas tree from Wayne.

But this? This is just sad. A bunch of families who already struggle enough as it is, looking devastated and knowing that if the power doesn’t magically turn on again, not only will their Christmas eve be ruined but so will the rest of their festivities. No one’s gonna come check or repair anything tomorrow on Christmas day. Not for people at the trailer park.

“Well shit,” Wayne’s voice sounds from inside the trailer, “if the power is out that means the fridge is out. All those good steaks I bought can go straight to the trash. So much for treating ourselves for the holidays.”

(Y/N) never believed in higher powers or miracles or any of that stuff but in that moment something shifts. And maybe it’s just a light bulb moment but it feels like a spark of something magical. An excitement that starts in her heart and spreads all throughout her body.

“Eds, the big BBQ grills out by the picnic tables still work, right?”

“Uh — yeah. Why ?”

The innocence and confusion and softness in his eyes remind her of a puppy dog. Oh, how she loves this boy and all his sweetness. She had a plan for tonight. It was supposed to be their magical Christmas eve and she’s not gonna let anything ruin that for her.

“Christmas is officially back on! Get the tinsel, some candles — oh, and your guitar.”

“My gui — what are you plotting here, babe?”

“Do you trust me?”

The fact that he doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second, sends her heart into a little frenzy. It really is them against the world. Against snow storms and power outages and every other obstacle there can possibly be.

“I do! So what’s the plan boss? “

Eddie never believed in higher powers or miracles or any of that stuff. And though he liked to get lost in fantastical stories of magical realms and creatures, he was well aware of the fact that true magic doesn’t exist.

At least he thought so — until now.

The trailer park is decked out in ribbon and bows, in tinsel and glitter, There is music flowing from a record player hooked to a generator and steaks sizzling on the grill. People are gathered around a campfire, warming their hands with mugs of hot cocoa.

An ocean of candles and some battery-powered Christmas lights illuminate the whole place and the Mayfields even dragged their Christmas tree out of the trailer for everyone to gather around.

There is magic, he thinks and lets his gaze move over the crowd of smiling faces where hours ago all he could see was heartbreak. It’s just not the magic they tell you about in fairytales and movies. It’s a feeling of belonging, of community, of love.

And maybe, (Y/N) is a little bit magical herself.

“ Hey Rockstar, “ the enchantress in question slides up next to him leaning against his van. “ Think the crowd is asking for a song.”

“ The crowd or you?”

“ Oh, definitely the crowd.”

In the candlelight you might mistake her for an angel, Eddie thinks. All golden glow and loving eyes. Whatever it is he’s feeling for this girl, he’s never felt this way about anyone else. For a while it was terrifying. Like all new things. Even the good ones. It was unfamiliar. Strange.

He’s not so scared anymore. Not when she looks at him like this, all gentle and soft. No rough edges or sharp points. It might be time to be brave and let himself feel all the big feelings that used to scare him so much. He thinks the big feelings might just be worth it.

“Hey, what you did for all these people today was — I don’t really know how to say it. You’re just so wonderful and kind and — yeah I don’t know. “

Glove-covered hands take a hold of his face as a cold nose is pressed against his. “Whatever it is you’re feeling right now, I want you to know I feel the same. You don’t have to say it. I know. And I hope you know too.”

He does. Not a doubt in his mind.

“You saved Christmas, baby.”

“I’m like a reverse Grinch. And judging by the color of your nose you might just be Rudolf. Go get your guitar and play us some tunes by the fire. Crowd is asking”

He places a kiss on her lips. She tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint candy canes. Christmas personified. And if he didn’t love her so much he’d think this is awfully cheesy. It is, he’s not going to deny it. But he likes cheesy if it involves her.

"Alright. But just for the record, I’d play even if it was only you asking me to. I’ll do anything for you.”

He’s well aware that what she asked for was some melodic tunes on his old dusty acoustic. Something peaceful and slow. And really, he appreciates a good acoustic song, he likes playing them too. But this isn’t where his heart is. It would truly be a disservice to all of humanity if he were to deny the people his electric rendition of O Come, All Ye Faithful.

There have been noise complaints before, especially when he first got the electric guitar. He can’t really blame people either. It’s loud and he just gets so lost in his music sometimes he forgets there are people around who maybe don’t want to hear him play.

They all don’t seem so bothered now. Everyone has a smile painted on their face. The sadness is washed away, lost somewhere in the candlelight flicker and the crackling of the fire.

Eddie never had a big family, hell for most of his life he didn’t have anyone worth being called a part of his family. Not until he got sent to live with Wayne. He wonders if this is what it feels like. This sense of belonging of being a part of something bigger. Even if this moment, like all moments before it, will pass and one day only be a memory, he got to be a part of it now and that means — everything.

His eyes meet Wayne’s across the fire, who gives him a friendly nod of his head and while it means nothing to everyone else, Eddie knows what it means. It’s “I’m proud of you, kid.”

And when he moves his gaze to the right, towards where (Y/N) is bundled up in one of his big flannel jackets, sipping on a mug of hot chocolate, his heart feels lighter than it ever has.

“I love you”, she mouths to him as the battery-powered Christmas lights dip her in hues of blues and reds, and greens.

“ I love you too,” he mouths back. And it’s not scary at all. In fact, it is the easiest thing in the world.

“You really did save Christmas that night!”

“ Don’t be dramatic, Eddie. I just — I did what I could. You and Wayne and the neighbors helped too. It wasn’t just me. And the power came back on like 4 hours later so —”

“ Doesn’t matter. You made everyone really happy that day. I still get asked to play a song every Christmas eve.”

Eddie not only has a great smile, it’s also incredibly infectious. It makes you want to join in even if every particle of your body wants to fight it. A losing game. A fool’s war.

“Well, I got Wayne to dance with me that night. My proudest moment, really.”

“Oh I know”

He gives her a look that’s hard to describe. It’s laced with a secret.

“What’s that look for ?”

Shaking his head, Eddie sends his unruly curls moving. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Right, cause saying that is the best way in getting people to not worry or be curious.

(Y/N) is just about to continue the conversation, to interrogate him a little more. To really get to the bottom of the look that has settled over his face, when the song switches to the next one.

And that one grabs a hold of her throat and slowly closes its iron fist, cutting off her air supply.

Devoid of air, devoid of all feelings but heartache, the van suddenly feels like a cage.

“I really like that song, turn it up — “

She doesn’t turn it up. Her hands don’t move from where they are tightly gripping the fabric of her pants. Clammy and cold like she has suddenly been plunged into a fever.

It’s not a sickness. Just a most horrible memory.

“The lamp is burnin' low upon my tabletop

The snow is softly falling

The air is still in the silence of my room

I hear your voice softly calling”

Gordon Lightfoot’s voice echoes through the halls of the (Y/L/N) family home. Mom must’ve changed the records having had enough of Dad’s rock Christmas compilation vinyl.

The house is packed with people, family and friends, and neighbors. All of them gathered here to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year. If things were different (Y/N)’s heart would be full of love and gratefulness. To see all her loved ones together. To have a house filled with laughter and joy.

Instead, she finds herself leaning against the wall looking out of the window into the inky black night. Snow is falling softly making this whole scene feel like a cheesy Christmas movie.

Only Christmas movies always have happy endings and there’s a stinging sensation in her heart that tells her this one might not.

“Honey,” her mother’s warm gentle hand takes a hold of her shoulder “ the Lintons are here. You remember their daughter Mary? She went to college last year, wanna go have a chat with her? Let her tell you about what to expect? “

Just a few days ago she would’ve jumped at the chance. Excitement would have flooded her veins and dreams of a future filled her head. Only that future seems like a distant dream now. One made up by a silly little girl who believed in fairytales and happily ever afters. And a love that lasts forever.

“I uh — I’ll be there in a minute. Just wanna see if Eddie makes it or not.”

“ Oh, he’s not here yet? “

No, mother. Obviously not. Otherwise would I be standing here like an idiot watching the window like a delusional child waiting for Santa to never come?

“ Not yet. We — we had a fight. Not sure he’ll come by at all.”

“Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I’m sure you’ll figure it out though, you two always do.”

They do but things have never been this bad. He never said the things before he said that night last week. He has never looked at her like that either.

“Have you tried calling him?”

Calling him? No, obviously not. That would feel like admitting to being wrong. And she isn’t wrong. She wasn’t wrong that night either. Is it so bad to wish for a future together? To hope and to dream of something magical?

“Well maybe then we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!“

His words still sting. It stings worse to know he didn’t immediately regret them after they tumbled from his lips.

“No.”

“Well, okay. Just come join us when you’re ready. And let me know if there is anything I can do.”

Her mom pulls her into a warm hug. She smells like wine and cinnamon and jasmine perfume. She smells like mom and Christmas and for a second (Y/N) feels a spark of contentment.

The spark diminishes the moment her mother leaves to go mingle with the rest of the guests.

Then it’s just her and the night and the empty street and a heart shattered into a million pieces.

She goes through motions like a zombie. Greet guests, hugs, handshakes, smile and nod, eat, drink, give short but friendly answers, try not to fall apart, smile, hug, drink, watch the clock, look out the window, smile. Smile. Smile.

As the lock clicks into place, (Y/N) leans against the counter of the bathroom, hands gripping the fake marble countertop as if it’s the only thing keeping her afloat. Maybe it is.

It’s almost 10. Party started at 6. He knew. He knows.

He’s not here and he probably won't be.

Tears are threatening to fall. Gathering at her lower lashline, turning her eyes glassy. A knot builds in her throat, impossible to swallow. Maybe, she thinks, this is her heart making its way up her body to be thrown up and discarded. Ain’t usable anymore anyway.

Maybe it’s time to admit defeat. To pick up that stupid phone and call him. If not to bring him here at least to get closure. To know for sure he isn’t coming because he doesn’t want to and not because he lies bleeding in a ditch somewhere on the way to her house.

Wiping the tears and fixing her mascara, she makes her way to her room and picks up the phone. Eddie always makes fun of the lip-shaped phone but she loves the thing. Remembering them laughing about it makes her sick.

It rings once. Twice. Three times.

Then a Munson picks up. Not her Munson though.

Wayne’s sleep-laced voice croaks out a tired “hello?”.

She almost feels bad for waking him. But this isn’t her fault. Is it?

“Hi Wayne, sorry for waking you. I was just wondering if Eddie is home?”

“Uh, no sweetheart. Him and the boys are out I think at the Hideout? I’m not entirely sure. I think that’s the place he said.”

One time, when she was just 5 years old, (Y/N) got a sparkly princess dress for Christmas. It was pink and full of glitter and sequins. She loved that thing. Wanted to wear it every day. Refused to take it off when they went to see her grandparents. So her parents let her. Actions and consequences. She wore that thing even when they went outside to play in the snow. She still remembers how fucking cold that was. It chilled her all the way to the bones.

Hearing Eddie choose to go out drinking instead of seeing her makes her feel a different kind of cold, but one that is just as chilling, just as all-consuming.

“Okay, yeah that must be it. Thank you, Wayne. Bye.”

The click of the receiver as she puts it back down sounds deafening through the silence of her room.

Her cries are silent though, just tears. There’s hardly room to breathe in her lungs, let alone sob or scream. But then again, pain doesn’t have to be loud to be serious.

20 minutes later she stands in the living room, some glass of non-alcoholic cranberry cocktail clutched in her hand.

Mom’s record is on its 3rd or 4th loop because they keep putting the needle back to the beginning and no one bothers to change it.

She’s wearing the red crushed velvet dress that Eddie loves so much and she feels like a goddamn fool.

But life keeps moving whether you're ready or not.

So she drinks and she eats and she hugs and she smiles. Only this time her eyes never wander over to the window. Not once.

“Hey, why did you skip the song? I said I like it.”

“Well I don’t”

“You put it on there!”

“Yeah 4 fucking years ago. Eddie this, “ she says and motions with her finger between the two of them “doesn’t change anything. You driving me home. Us reminiscing about the good old times. We’re not friends and I’m still angry at you.”

“For what? Why are you angry at me? What did I do?”

He says it with such absolute disbelief and confusion. As if he really doesn’t know.

Does he really not know?

“Eddie, you broke up with me. For absolutely no reason. “

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on now. Don’t play dumb. We had this stupid fight about college and how I wanted to help you with your grades so you could graduate and you blocked me out completely. And every time I talked about our future you got all pissy.”

“ Because I was embarrassed!”

“I get that I really do. But I was so understanding and you just brushed it off like our plans didn’t mean shit to you. And then you broke up with me.”

“What are you talking about? I never broke up with you! You broke up with me!”

He combs his fingers through his hair with irritation written all over his face. What the fuck does he mean? She wasn’t the one breaking up. He was!

He was …. right ?!

“ You literally said and I quote ‘Well maybe we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!’“

“Yeah, I was talking out of my ass. I was frustrated and sad and angry but not at you. At myself. And I never broke up with you.”

It’s like the earth shifts. Tectonic plates crashing into each other, shaking everything up, plunging the world into chaos. Her world at least. Everything she thought she knew about him and her and them now seems like a maybe — a perhaps.

“Then why didn’t you show up at my family’s Christmas party? I asked you to come.”

“And then in the car after our fight, you said not to bother.”

“Because I thought you had broken up with me.”

“And then I woke up to a box of my things on the steps of the trailer.”

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year !”

“Oh for fucks sake.”

“It's the hap-happiest season of all”

It was supposed to be. Only it fucking isn’t.

They were supposed to be driving to lovers lake and meet up with some friends, go ice skating, have a good time, and be a loving couple.

It wasn’t supposed to end up with her head leaning against the car window, watching the snow flurry outside and wiping away tears in a way that she thinks he doesn’t notice.

He notices. And he hates himself for making her cry in the first place.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so weird about this. I just want to help you, Eds. I have this whole plan set up on how to get your grades back on track. But I need you to work for it. If that is too much to ask then — I don’t know.”

“ No, go ahead. Say it! ”

“ I don’t know what you mean.”

“If it’s too much to ask then I will just end up not graduating and all our perfect plans will be ruined.”

“I never said that”

He knows he is being unfair. It’s not her fault. In fact, it is entirely his own. He’s awfully aware of this and maybe that’s the whole point. This is on him and she should not be the one having to bear his luggage. They’re just 18, it’s too much of him to ask her to deal with his issues, save him from his own demons.

Nevertheless, it sucks. So bad.

That future she was talking about, dreaming of, he wants that too. More than anything. But it was always too good to be true. Dreams like that aren’t for a boy like him.

He’s not gonna graduate this year, no matter how many study plans and extra work and confidence she puts in. He’s the king of lost causes. Everyone knows. Maybe it’s time for her to realize it too.

She will stay. For him. Wait a whole year. Put her life on pause. All just for little old him who doesn’t deserve it. Only to what? Realize next year that all that confidence and trust was utterly misplaced.

“You don’t have to say it for it to be true.”

“Why are you being so unkind? I’m trying to help you.”

“Well stop trying! It’s not going to work out.”

She’s quiet for a moment and it just about kills him. This isn’t about her or them even. She has to know this, right? That he appreciates her and everything she does. It’s just — useless.

“This as in you graduating or this as in us? “

He hates where this conversation is going. He never meant for it to go there. He loves this girl, he doesn’t want this to end.

But this stupid self-destructive part of him just can’t seem to shut up. It’s like the devil on his shoulder has completely smothered the angel and is whispering all the wrong things into Eddie’s ear.

“The graduating part but maybe —”

“Don’t. Don’t even finish that sentence. What about our plans? What about being meant for each other?”

Shut the fuck up. His mind is screaming at him to just keep his mouth shut. To pull over and kiss her stupid and tell her that they are meant to be together. That she is it for him. Now and then and forever. But the reality of it all is that she deserves so much better. And his demons scream louder than his heart beats.

“Well, maybe we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!”

Never in his life will he forget the way she looks at him then. Utter betrayal floods her eyes. Disappointment. Heartbreak. He hates himself for doing this. Why can’t he ever keep the good things in his life? Why must he always mess things up? No wonder everyone leaves. He wouldn’t stay either. The self-sabotaging mess that he is.

“You been thinking about this for a while? Us?”

“ No, of course not. “

“Then why are you saying these things all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know (Y/N).”

It’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at her and it feels disgusting. Vile. If only he could be like the heroes or magicians in his favorite stories. Brave and strong and maybe possess the magic to change the past or travel back. Back to when things were good and he was able to push his demons back into the furthest corner of his mind.

“Well, my mom’s Christmas party is this weekend so you better figure it out, or don’t bother showing up. Let me out here.”

“ It’s snowing.”

“Eddie, let me the fuck out. My house is just down the street. I can literally see it from here.”

He drives alongside her all the way to her door. She doesn’t look back at him. Not a glance. Nothing.

“It’s good like this. You don’t deserve her anyway.”

He wonders if the devil on his shoulder is truly louder or if the angel is just agreeing with him.

“It's the most wonderful time

Yes the most wonderful time

Oh the most wonderful time

Of the year”

“Oh fuck off, Andy!”

Disgusting. He feels disgusting. Disgusting and sad.

There’s a Christmas party going on right now that he’s supposed to be at. But she doesn’t want him there. Not like this. A guy who can’t even graduate from high school. Who will only hold her back?

He’s sad and drunk. Wayne thinks he’s at the hideout with friends when in reality he just drove his van down the snowy roads of Hawkins, going all over the place except her street. Because he’s scared of what he might see.

It would’ve been so easy to just take another right turn and knock on her door and say sorry. But what if by now she realized how much better off she is without him?

So he doesn’t show up. Instead, he drives back home, parks the van behind the trailer and gets drunk. And because he is a huge masochist and loves hurting himself, he puts on the Christmas tape she made for him.

“Ding Dong. Ding dong. It’s the most — “

“Ding dong. Ding dong. Shut the fuck up, Andy!”

It’s all too much. The songs and the weather and the heartbreak and the self-pity.

Slowly he drags himself out of the van and up the trailer stairs. His feet feel heavy, his heart even heavier.

A wave of warmth engulfs him suddenly as the door swings open. Wayne looks less than excited to see him. Why would he be? If he weren’t so drunk, maybe Eddie would notice the softness in the man’s eyes. The concern edged onto his face.

“Kid, you okay?”

“Just peachy, uncle Wayne.”

“Mmh. Well (Y/N) called asking for you.”

It feels like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head and suddenly all the haze of the alcohol is gone. She called. She cares. Oh god, she still cares.

“What did she say?”

“Not much. Just asked if you’re home.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“The truth. That you’re out with the boys.”

“Ah shit Wayne, what’d you do that for?”

“What? What was I supposed to do? Lie?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going to do that. What is going on, Eddie?”

A shuddered breath leaves Eddie’s lips.

“We had a fight. A bad one. I messed things up. I gotta go see her. Shit, I gotta fix this.”

Wayne reaches out and grabs a hold of Eddie’s jacket, pulling him into the warm trailer.

“You’re not going anywhere, kid. You’re drunk. I sure am not gonna let you drive in this state. Go to bed, get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow morning you can drive over and fix it. And you need a goddamn shower.”

He falls asleep at 4am. Wakes up at 6. He has a whole speech prepared. Starting with I’m sorry and ending with I love you. He takes a shower, gets dressed. He even wears the sweater she likes so much.

And as he pulls open the door he is greeted by a box of his stuff sitting on the steps of the trailer.

“So we both thought the other broke up and actually neither of us wanted to actually break up?”

“God, what a mess, Eddie.”

She’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry. It’s all too much. Her heart is beating too fast. Her mind is racing.

“What do we do now?”

“Nothing, Eds. It’s been 4 years. What does it matter now?”

Everything. It matters and it changes everything but admitting that is scary.

Eddie pulls up the gravel driveway of her childhood home. Two heavy hearts and a million unsaid words fill the car as she grabs the door handle.

“Is this goodbye again?”

“Neither of us said goodbye last time.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“You have a point. First time for everything, huh?”

A stinging sensation starts behind her eyes, pushing the tears to the brink, as she steps out of the car and out into the harsh winter winds.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Hey, (Y/N)” He calls out as she drags her suitcase up the steps of the house.

“Yeah?”

“Just for the record. Even if it doesn’t change anything. I still love you. It matters a lot to me that you didn’t want us to end either.”

He doesn’t know what hurts more. The fact that she nods or watching her walk away and close the door behind her.

She didn’t say goodbye this time either.

Oh, holy shit — she didn’t say goodbye!

“What’s this?”

(Y/N)’s mom sits at the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in hand and a mischievous smile on her face. It’s way too early for any of her shenanigans even if they come in the form of a vinyl record wrapped in a big red bow.

“Don’t know. It was there this morning when I opened the door. Right there on our front porch. Looks like a record to me though.”

“You know who left it?”

“No,” mom shrugs and points to the record resting on the kitchen table. “There’s a letter though.”

It’s a small blue envelope and her name is written on it in a chicken scratch she immediately recognizes. At least it’s still shut which means her mother hasn’t peaked inside and studied all the contents of the letter.

“When did he bring this?”

Her mom denies everything. Even goes as far as throwing her an “I don’t know what you mean”. What she doesn’t account for, is the fact that she is a horrible liar. Truly abysmal.

“Of course you don’t. Well, I'm gonna go upstairs and read this. In peace!”

Her mother’s laughter follows her all the way up until she closes the door to her childhood bedroom and drops down onto her bed.

A beehived Brenda Lee smiles back at (Y/N) from the cover of the vinyl record, a present clutched in her hand and a Christmas tree sparkling in the background.

Why he chose that specific record, she has no clue.

With shaky fingers, she opens and unfolds the letter. Eddie used to do this a lot back when they were together. Leave her letters and notes. She thought it was very old school and very romantic at the same time. Something poetic and artistic about it. Where he wasn’t good at saying the words out loud, he was quite the phenomenal writer.

“(Y/N),

let me start by saying I’m sorry. That’s also what I wanted to tell you that night of the party — and the morning after. I should’ve. I should’ve fought for us and told you how I felt even when I thought we were over. I just never felt like I really deserved you and some fucked up part of my brain made me believe that sooner or later you’d realize that too. I guess I thought it was easier this way. Like ripping off a bandaid. It wasn’t easy. Not even a little bit. That part of me is still there, I doubt it will ever go away. But I am better now. I like to think I have matured but Wayne says I just lost a bit of my stupid in the last few years. I graduated! Crazy I know. I have a job now too. And while I will never be the smartest person in any room, I like to believe I made something of myself. You still deserve better but I hope that maybe this version of me can be enough.

I understand if this changes nothing for you but it changes everything for me. I still love you as much as the moment I saw you fall down the ladder, or kissed you in the snow, or watched you save Christmas.

I knew we were gonna be forever when I watched you across the trailer park, illuminated by candles and Christmas lights. You were dancing with Wayne! It’s the first and only time I’ve ever seen him dance. Both of you were laughing and life just felt like a movie or a song or both.

Brenda Lee was playing in the back and I knew I loved you then and I would love you forever. You were my family then and you always will be.

Now I’m not expecting you to come running back into my arms and start back up where we left it but if you find the time in your busy schedule to come see me during your holiday visit, that would mean the world to me.

Maybe listen to some Christmas tunes.

And even if you don’t I just wanted you to know that my favorite Christmas gift was you. Every year that we were together, it was always you.

I love you (still)

Eddie. “

A frantic knock sounds from the front door of the trailer and shakes Eddie from his nap on the couch. After not being able to sleep at all last night he must’ve dozed off somewhere between the morning cartoons and the breakfast TV.

He really needs to get Wayne one of those big ass keychains that you can clip to your jeans or something. That man forgets his keys at least 3 times a day.

“I’m coming, geez. Wayne, you really gotta — You’re not Wayne!”

She regards him with a smile and that special spark of magic in her eyes. The one he hasn’t seen in 4 years. The one he so desperately missed.

“Well, I hope not. Otherwise what I’m about to do would be pretty weird.”

“What are you — “

But he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence when her lips meet his in a kiss. It’s sweet and chaotic and rushed and soft. Familiar and nostalgic. She feels so cold against his warm skin but she still tastes like peppermint and smells like winter.

“ So, “ she says as she pulls away from the kiss, just barely but enough to take a breath. “ wanna listen to some tunes?”

The Brenda Lee vinyl is clutched in her hand as she bites her lip in anticipation.

As if there’s a chance he’d ever say no.

“There’s nothing in this world I’d rather do.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things writers

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