#eddie munson one shot

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fem!reader x eddie munson one shot

a/n:okay hello here goes one of my eddie munson ideas…. my god am I whipped for this man. jhsfdbajsdfagjshds. anywhos. let’s go. I hope I write him good. I also hope this won’t turn into a series because I have that tendency to turn one-shots into series and then never finish them. god help with that. also I made up some little very brief background on eddie’s parents – just my version, my imagination, don’t hate or say it’s wrong. just my take. happy reading!

summary:fem!reader is eddie’s friend, and goes looking for him. not only does she find him, but she comes to learn of things about her hometown and the world she never could have predicted.

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stranger things masterlist

word count: 3.2k

tags: mentions of chrissy’s death, fluff

gif credit goes to owner! 

eddie has always been hard to catch or keep track of, even before all this hell shit that’s happened to hawkins in the last two and a half years. he’s always following his impulses, constantly going somewhere, changing plans, doing something completely opposite of what he’d promised to do, and everything that follows.

so being friends with him hasn’t been the easiest thing, either. he’s a great guy, a good friend, and overall a charming person, but damn would you like for him to be punctual sometimes. he doesn’t think beyond himself sometimes, and doesn’t care for ruining others’ plans when it comes to certain things. his campaign is a different story, of course. you’d love for him to just keep to his schedules and be reachable sometimes.

and you’re surprised that it surprises and even disappoints you that he’s nowhere to be seen now. with the terrifying murder of the sweet girl chrissy last night, a possible killer on the loose, eddie not being in anyone’s reach terrifies you. what if he’s the next victim? what if he’s been kidnapped or something? this stuff only happens, but with what’s happened in your hometown the last few years, anything could be going on.

the possibilities are endless, you cannot think or want to think of all of them, much less any of them involving eddie. he’s been your friend since before high school, even before secondary school, and you hate for him to be in any sort of trouble. much less in pain… that’s where you try and stop your brain from running further and just digging yourself a grave by assuming the possible worst of anything and everything.

your last resort, the last place—you actually don’t know why you didn’t think of it first—you think to look for eddie, is his supplier’s, rick’s house. out by the lake, quite the middle of nowhere even for your small town of hawkins. you’re scared shitless to go there, of course, because what if the killer is lurking around somewhere here, especially preying on young girls walking around alone at night? and what if the killer has already got eddie, if he’s at rick’s house, and now you’re just walking into certain death?

but you hurriedly walk alongside the dark, empty road, your arms crossed over your chest, a flashlight squeezed in one palm, illuminating the way. you’re not a fan of the dark, especially with the recent murder, and you don’t particularly like flashlights, either. they illuminate only some of the way, and anything could be in that instant darkness beyond the white ellipse of light. anything! you’re even scared to lift the flashlight higher to see, because what if someone or something is there?

at least you know the way to rick’s house well. eddie usually drives after school over there for new stashes of drugs and rounds of drugs in pill form. and he usually takes you with him, because day to day he drives you home or drives you both to his band practice or the occasional bar gigs. and eddie knows he can trust you, you won’t talk to anyone, it’s been clear since the very beginning.

it’s not exactly your ideal plan of kicking off spring break - running around your hometown in the dark in desperate search for your best friend. but you’re worried about him. you were supposed to have him drive you both to a flea market in another town near-by, right in the morning hours because it’s a half-hour’s drive and all the good records and clothes get sold out quickly there. so when he didn’t come to your door, knocking that special theatrical knock of his, not at ten, when you were supposed to leave, not at half past, not at eleven… you got really worried.

first you ran over to the trailer park, where he lives with his uncle, wayne. and his uncle was there, wide awake, alright. and so were the police. and so was the body of chrissy cunningham, which, thankfully, no one let you see. especially wayne. throughout the years he’s said you’re like a daughter to him, and he’s always treated you as such. he sat you down and explained what’s happened, and that eddie was nowhere to be found. that raised your worry to quite the height.chrissy murdered in the munsons’ trailer? that raises a lot of questions.

“he’s probably hidin’ somewhere, scared out of his damn mind,” wayne said as he drew smoke from his cigarette, shaking his head, “neighbours are already talkin’, makin’ up a story…” he sighs, “they’re sayin’ eddie did this, but… there ain’t no way. you and i both know that.” he’d looked at you, and you’d nodded your head without hesitance.

“he wouldn’t,” you said to him with a certain shake of your head, “they’re crazy for saying that, and believing it.” you shot a look over the trailer park, seeing all the people staring and peeping like the creeps they are. you sighed. “i’ve gotta find him.” you said and lift your eyes up to wayne’s. “wanna come with?”

“wish i could, kiddo, wish i could…” wayne shook his head, “i’ve gotta answer all kinda questions from the boys in blue, and it wouldn’t look very good, either, would it? they’d think i was hidin’ him or something.” wayne looked at you. “but you be careful. don’t wanna see you wind up like this poor girl,” he said and you nodded, “if you ain’t found him ‘til dark, don’t keep lookin’ until tomorrow mornin’.”

and though you promised him you’d do exactly that, you’re now breaking that promise. you’ve just gotta find him, and this is really the last place he could be. you’re so near rick’s house, anyway, it would be stupid to turn back and go home now. every little noise you hear makes your head shoot in its direction, your eyes go wide and you make a gasp, but every time it’s some bird or animal. and you curse yourself each time for getting scared of such a little thing. but since your nerves are about electrified right now, you also can’t blame yourself.

finally you reach rick’s property, and nearly breathe a sigh of relief. there’s no sign of eddie so far, and even if he’s not here, you have shelter for the night, as disgusting and stereotypical for a drug dealer’s house it is, because there’s no way you’re going home now. you’re exhausted, anxious and even hungry, too. it must be… you glance at your electronic wristwatch. eighteen minutes past midnight. you sigh. as far as your parents know, you’re at eddie’s place. you’ll worry about your alibi later, anyway.

your first destination in the property is the house, of course, so you sneak in through the already open door? interesting. if that’s a hint towards eddie being here, then great. if it’s someone else… you’re in not that much luck. you tread around the house slowly, as quietly as you can, scared that any noise from you will lure in the other person here more, and maybe even attract the killer – but that’s just paranoia.

funny or not, to calm your mind, you start humming paranoid by ozzy quietly to yourself while looking for signs of life or eddie around rick’s house. it keeps you focused on something, and a little distracted from the stressful reality you’re facing right now. but even in the upper floors of the house, there’s no sign of anyone here. you huff. where is he?

you plop down onto the couch at the front of the house, the shadows and the dark making your legs shiver. you draw your knees up to your chest and look anxiously around. but then your mind lingers on the stretched shadows displayed on the other side of the room from you. you see your own shadow, your silhouette, and that makes you realise there’s a light behind the window, somewhere outside, making those shadows.

hoping against hope that it’s no one predatory holding a flashlight from the outside, you turn around in your seat, and are met with the boathouse down by the lake. the boathouse’s porch light is on, and that’s what’s creating the shadows you see. you sigh deeply in relief and hop off the couch. maybe eddie is here, after all.

excited, you run down the small hill to the boathouse, nearly trip along the way, and stop at the door. eddie better be here.and the door better be open. you press your empty hand down on the handle and jiggle it. it jiggles around pretty freely, and so you swing the door open. you’re met with nothing but the dark and silence, except for the gentle splashing of the lake water against the house’s base. you huff.

“eddie?” you call out in a whisper, hoping he’ll come lurking out of the shadows, alive and well. you close the door after you and make a few steps into the boathouse. it’s not much, just swimming and boat necessities, and one boat with its waterproof cover on top, slightly swinging with the soft waves of the water. quite literally sounds like there’s no signs of life here. “eddie?” you call again, but your voice betrays the disappointment and stress you feel. you reach the window that gives a view of the lake at night, and you see nothing but the dark water and sky. you huff again.

but a floorboard creaks somewhere behind you, and only as your turn, you notice an empty cereal box by your feet on the floor. your body is almost frozen in fear, and so you turn slowly and cautiously towards whoever might be there. and all you’re met with is eddie’s hairy silhouette, only there’s also an oar in his hand (??). but as you both stop and take each other in, eddie comes into the moonlight, where you can see him better, and he drops the oar as relief and surprise takes over his features.

“y/n?” gets past his lips in an emotional whine, and you can barely confirm it’s really you before eddie closes the distance between you both and pulls you into the tightest hug ever. though by the way his hands feel on and around you, you realise it’s he who needs to be hugged more. so you wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tight as well, and close your eyes as you breathe a sigh of relief. “it’s really you.”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this before. he’s never been scared of teachers and any kind of other authority, he’s never shown to be scared of anything, really. sure, there were the times with his father before the fatal car crash, where you’d seen fear in eddie’s eyes like you never had before, and it opened a different perspective on your long-time best friend. that kind of fear, a version of it, you only see for the second time now, so something must have happened. “i’m so glad i found you,” you tell him, rubbing a comforting hand across his back, “i’m so glad you’re not hurt. i was so worried… looked everywhere for you.”

you don’t want to be delusional, but it sounds like eddie could be sobbing into your shirt. you can tell he needed to hear those words. before you can question his state, he pulls back, though still holds onto your shoulders as he looks at you. his big brown eyes bigger than usual, darting around, searching yours, shining with tears. you reach up your hand to his face and flick away a spot of dirt on his cheek, and the movement makes eddie’s eyelids flutter. “physically i’m not hurt, but otherwise, well…” eddie makes one of those sarcastic smiles, which already is a give-away that something’s wrong, “what are you even doing here? didn’t you have plans tonight?”

a laugh at his worry for you escapes you unfiltered, and you shake your head. “thanks for worrying, but that doesn’t really matter right now. you weren’t there to pick me up in the morning, so i went looking for you at your place, but you weren’t there. what was there, in return…” you shake your head, remembering glimpses of the cops’ dialogue about the body, “a crime scene.”

surprisingly, eddie nods. “yeah, i know,” he says. you’re still aware of his hands on you, and though you’re not a person who is friendly with the language of touch, you ignore that for now. for eddie. you can tell he really needs this, he’s always been a touchy person. which raises the question of how you two could ever even be friends, but… it’s pretty easy to respect each other’s boundaries. he needs this. “i, uh… you know, my mind’s kinda all over the place right now, so i hope i’ll make some sense of what i’m about to tell you.” he admits and lets go of your shoulders, “let’s… sit down,” eddie says and leads you away from the window, towards where there’s a bench by the wall in this boathouse. you both sit down, and you bring your backpack into your lap. you cross your knees in front of you and lean against the wall as you listen to eddie.

while he tells you all of these crazy things and you listen intently, without words you offer him your hand to hold. and you feel his mood and thoughts shifting with how he holds your hands. how when he tells you about dustin and his friends—including, apparently, steve harrington—visiting, his hands are calmer then than they are when he talks about what happened with chrissy. turns out eddie was there, and he witnessed her murder. which is traumatic enough, and you completely understand why he ran away. you believe him, you believe what he said happened did happen, and you can’t imagine what that’s like.

his thumb also nearly digs holes into your palm when he tells you about the upside down and the monster, you guess, dustin and he think killed chrissy. the connection between that guy and a wizard from dungeons & dragons is spot-on, actually, and seems even too fitting to be true. but you believe him nonetheless. eddie may be a lot of things, but a liar or a murderer he certainly isn’t.

after he’s told you seemingly everything, you can’t think of things to say to put him at ease. but you remember what you have in your bag. “you want some giggles?” you ask him as you’re opening the zipper of your bag. they might not be very metal, but they’re one of eddie’s favourite snacks. you take the pack out of your bag and see eddie eyeing it quite hungrily. you always make sure to be carrying a pack or two of giggles, anyway, knowing eddie likes them. and he loves you for it. you hand eddie the small box over and look into his eyes, pondering his silence. but then you realise it’s probably because of your own. “you know i’m not good with words,” you tell him.

“yeah,” eddie says quietly with a nod and opens the giggles box, “but… but you believe me, right? i feel so stupid asking that, but…”

“no, no, it’s not stupid,” you assure him, “it’s just a lot to take in. you’re still processing, and i can’t imagine what it’s like—what you saw.” you say and shake your head. “god, it’s just horrible…”

“i can hardly believe it happened,” eddie says with a shake of his head, “has my name… gone public yet? the cops after me?” he gives you a look. but you shrug, even though you hate to crush his hopes.

“i have no idea, eddie,” you tell him, “i haven’t been home since, like, eleven am.” he gives you a worried look.

“you should go, then,” he says and you look into his eyes. is he asking you kindly or is he pushing you away? “it’s already late.”

“go home alone? by foot? with a killer on the loose? yeah, no way,” you dismiss his suggestion or whatever it was quickly, “besides, i don’t wanna be anywhere else but with you. and you may not admit it, but you need the support.” you make a point. “you’ll go insane, all cooped up in here with no one to talk to. while dustin and the others are looking for a solution… you need a friend.” you say and turn to look at eddie with a smile.

he gives you a half-sad, half-cheeky smile in return as he eats his giggles. “you wanna hang out with your cult-leader, freak murderer best friend?” he offers teasingly, always trying to make humor out of any situation. you shake your head.

“you’re not a cult leader or a murderer, eddie,” you assure him, “i don’t believe you killed chrissy, especially like that. i don’t believe that at all.”

eddie wanted to express his gratitude before he made that stupid, teasing comment, so he decides that now’s the right moment again. “thank you,” he says, “really. i know how… how all this sounds, and how shit like this can twist people’s minds… you could have thought anything of me and of what’s happened.” there’s a solemn look in his eyes, the eyes that shine in the moonlight of this beautiful night.

“no one could ever convince me you killed someone,” you pat his hand, “i like to think i know you like no one else does,” you say with a smile, “and i know you’d never do something like this,” you say as your eyes connect, “and i’m not the only one that does. wayne, too.”

eddie breathes a deep sigh of relief at that fact, even closes his eyes and leans against the wall behind him with his back. now he’s on his way to being at some sort of peace. “i was worried about him,” he admits, “i even thought the cops might think he did it. later, of course, i didn’t have any time last night, to think about him, or anyone or anything else besides…” you both know besides what, he doesn’t need to say it out loud. you give him a nod.

“come on,” you start to say, “you might have your disagreements with wayne, but he’d never think you a murderer. he knows you just as well as i do, if not better.” you assure. “there are people on your side, okay?” you look into eddie’s eyes again, having leaned a bit closer to him now. eddie just looks back into yours. “one way or another, we’ll figure this out. until then, i’m here with you.”

finally eddie gives you a nod in response. he rubs his thumb over the skin of your hand in that certain way that only says one thing. “thanks, y/n, really,” eddie tells you quietly, earnestness in his eyes and in his voice, “it’s very metal of you.” he says, knowing it will crack you up. eddie doesn’t always know how to best communicate his feelings, even if he wants to be straight-forward. so he expresses his feelings how he best knows to. he tries to hide his smile as he says those words, but he cracks once he sees you laugh.

“ido try,” you say between heaved breaths and laughs. very metal indeed.

tags:@d4td7ewmachine

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