This is why I don't socialize {Eddie Munson X Reader}

P3) The Fine Art of BS

How did he know that the sweater he accidentally set on fire was my favorite?
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Walking through the cafeteria I keep my head down. I don't want to see him after he caught me having a full blown meltdown yesterday.

"We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game," I hear Eddie say, followed by Dustin saying, "No dude, you're a freak because you lit a girls sweater on fire!" The table burst into laughter. Eddie slams his hand on the table and announces to the table, "I've told you so many times, it was an accident and I spent my last paycheck on buying her a new one, fucking 40 bucks down the drain but it was worth it until she threw it at a wall in the rain." The table goes silent when they see me. Shit. I walk away but it's too late, "Y/N," Eddie calls after me but I continue walking. "Hey!" He yells following me into an empty hallway. "Hey are you okay?" He says, tapping my shoulder. "What!" I shout, "What? You think we are friends now? You think I want that?! You think I want you to pity me!?" I shout. He sighs and says, "listen sweetheart-" I interrupt, "don't call me that." He continues, "Y/N please just-" he stops talking when we both hear voices and laughing.

"Be quiet," Eddie whispers and i retort, "Don't tell me to be quiet." Eddie sighs and turns to me like he is about to say something else but is interrupted by the appearance of Jason and a few other boys.

"Ohh," the boys tease and laugh, "freak and freak point two."

Heavy sexual assault warning
{for the record, this next scene does not take place in the cafeteria but in an empty hallway}

Eddie stands in front of me and says to Jason, "Jason, c'mon, just because we don't shoot balls into laundry baskets doesn't mean we are freaks,"
Jason walks closer to Eddie and I and pushes Eddie, "You are part of a cult Munson, you're a freak. And her-" he says pointing to me, "She's just a fucking slut."
With that last word, Eddie has Jason on the floor, continuously punching him in the face, "She's not a fucking slut!" He yells as he is bloodying up his knuckles. "SHE'S NOT A FUCKING SLUT," he continues to shout. Eventually Jason is blacked out and there remains four guys.
Mother fucker, it's a trap.
Two of the guys begin to pummel Eddie and the other two grab me.
Fuck no no.
No.
"Stop!" I scream across to the boys beating Eddie.
The other boys that have me are in for a struggle but not enough of a struggle. One of the boys holds me down while the other takes off my shirt, "NO! STOP!" I cry and plead. Eddie please I need help. Eddie can't do anything because he's getting the shit beaten out of him by two guys that are fairly stronger and larger than he is.
A boy pulled down my pants.
No. "Please no! NO PLEASE!" I scream.
WHERE THE FUCK IS EVERYONE.
He drags my underwear down and touches me.
I beg, "STOP IT! I DON'T WANT THIS!"
"HEY ASSHOLE!" Eddie shouts as he comes up behind the boys. I can't help but try to fight. I just want to cover myself. I just want to cry. Eddie fights off the other guys and they run. I look around for the other two boys but they must've ran off.

"Y/N," is all Eddie says when he realizes, I am in shock. I can't move. He quickly pulls up my underwear and pants. Eddie wipes his bloody fist on his jeans and then picks me up and sits me on a bench.

We sat there for 20 minutes until the tears well up in my eyes. He offers his hand and I hold it.
"I'm sorry," I whisper as I turn and hug him. He doesn't hug back for a second but then he does. He puts his hand on my back. "I'm so sorry," I cry and hyperventilate. "Y/N," he says. I feel his tears burn onto my back. I can hardly breathe and I can't stop crying.

"You didn't do anything wrong. This was not and will never be your fault. Do you understand? I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you sooner," Eddie says, tears slowly dripping down his face. Eddie and I both went home, "sick."

At home I showered and then the doorbell rang. I open the door and see a gift box. I bring it inside and hop up on my bed and open it.

It's the sweater. He washed it. On top read a note that said, "good as new"

I slept in that sweater that night and cried myself to sleep thinking about Eddie Munson, the man I thought I hated. Eddie Munson, the man that cried with me and for me.

Eddie Munson, the only one who cared and the only one that I care about.