Eddie Munson x Reader | 𝗢𝗻𝗲𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝟭𝟴+

Freakshow (Fluff)

A/N: Y'all... you have to realize I can see your age if you read this in my statistics. It says 18+ for a fucking reason. I'm sorry to be harsh about this but if you are under the age of 18, do not read this, do not interact with this and just click away. I'm aware there's more fluff chapters here than smut, but even then this is an adult character and I am writing reader as an ADULT. I repeat, if you are under the age of 18 and a MINOR, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ! Thank you.

You weren't a pussy. Let's start there. You could handle teasing, name-calling and the occasional tug at your bag. You understood that being 'different' in a town like Hawkins would come with judgement and scrutiny. Bullies were a thing, and they didn't care about anybody's well-being but their own. People that fit their cookie-cutter image of what a person should be like were the only ones who deserved to be left in peace.

What didn't sit right with you were the onlookers. The people who knew better yet decided to stay silent. The people whose moral compass was tinted with a grey hue, knowing they should speak up. Understanding you were a regular person, just like them. But they were scared, understandably so. Terrified they were going to become the victim. The one who they wished they stood up for when it became their turn.

But not Eddie.

You'd admired Eddie Munson for a while now. Daring, unafraid and mesmerisingly authentic. You watched him like a hawk. You cursed yourself for being just like the people you condemned, a bystander whenever he got harassed. See, that's where you differed. While you were both considered freaks, Eddie made a point to stand up for himself. To not let himself be ridiculed for having peculiar hobbies, unusual clothes and a bizarre personality. He'd mock his bullies right back, shaming them for their conformity. You did everything in your power to not be perceived. Eddie did everything in his power to make sure he was not only being seen, he wanted to be heard. He wanted the world to move forward while the population around him remained stagnant.

People saw Eddie 'the freak' Munson. An oddball, drug dealer, and leader of a satanic cult. And perhaps that's exactly what he wanted people to see. He wanted people to stay away, leave him be. Be afraid, so they couldn't get close and see him for who he truly was. You didn't claim to know Eddie. But you did see through the first surface layer of protection he'd put up. Eddie was caring. He was kind of a dork, really. What you hadn't expected, however, was the glimpses you'd caught of his intelligence.

He was so smart. Not always academically, but Eddie was highly emotionally intelligent. He could do excellent in school when he really tried, but the subjects didn't hold his interest long enough for him to attempt excellence. Eddie was the listening ear to his friends, even to peers who wouldn't usually give him the light of day. Whenever one of the jocks mocked him, it was like he'd borrowed them from the library on a free pass, not even having to try and read them to understand their smallest insecurities and where they stemmed from because anybody could read them. He knew how to shut them up.

Your current predicament wasn't great, to say the least. Jason and his posse were being merciless. They wouldn't leave you be for even a second. You were beginning to feel like a caged animal, taunted by juvenile zoo visitors who didn't bother to read the warnings on the outside of the enclosure. The comments weren't the issue. The proximity and severity were what was causing you to start hyperventilating, what left you feeling claustrophobic. You couldn't twist or turn. Everywhere you looked, someone clad in Hawkins High gear was watching you. Pointing with their friends, making unintelligible jokes. The only escape was with your eyes closed, listening to your walkman and praying for them to leave.

Eddie knew you weren't usually too concerned with the assholes currently crowding you. But just like you watched him, he studied you. He knew your body language to a certain extent, and you were definitely trying not to panic. Eyes squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed and hands trembling ever so slightly as you drummed your fingers along with the music. You were good at hiding your laboured breath, Eddie had to admit. He knew you were struggling. They were taking your autonomy, your ability to do what you wanted.