To The End || EDDIE MUNSON x READER||

The Sound of The Curse

It had been days since anyone came back.
No Dustin, no Steve, no updates — just the two of us rotting away in that damp, dusty boathouse. Time moved like syrup. The air felt heavier every morning, like the world outside was holding its breath.

Eddie tried to keep us entertained — mostly by singing his heart out to the mixtapes Dustin had left me. He wasn't half bad, but hearing "Run to the Hills" for the tenth time in one day made me want to run into the hills myself.

He lifted the walkie-talkie again, voice hopeful.
"Hey, Dustin, it's Eddie. You there, man?" Static. "Dustin, come on, answer me. Dustinnnn."

I sighed from where I was lying in the boat. "Eddie, he's obviously not listening to us. If something happened, they'd have told us by now."

He dropped the walkie with a groan and sat beside me. "Yeah, I know. Just hate sitting here doing nothing."

Suddenly, the speaker crackled to life.
"Hey, it's Nancy."

Eddie's head snapped up like a startled cat. "Wheeler! Finally. Listen, me and Y/N are gonna need a food delivery pretty soon — unless you want us going out into the world—"

"No!" Nancy's voice came sharp through the static. "Just stay where you are. We'll be there soon."

"Can you also bring me a six-pack?" Eddie said. "I know it's stupid as shit drinking right now but—"

"I—uh, I have to call you back," Nancy said, and the line went dead.

"Wheeler! No, don't you dare hang up!" Eddie shouted into the radio. Silence.
"Well," he muttered, setting it down, "they still didn't tell us anything, did they?"

"Nope," I said, "but they are bringing us food."
He gave me that crooked grin — the one that somehow made the worst situations feel lighter — and flopped down on top of me.

"I'd sell my soul for a cold beer," he groaned into my neck.

"I know, Eddie," I laughed softly, threading my fingers through his hair. He lifted his head and brushed my hair back, his eyes catching mine — that same mischievous warmth that always made me melt. He leaned in and kissed me.

It was soft at first, then hungrier. My hands slid into his curls; his rings pressed cool against my heated skin. He smiled into the kiss.

"I don't think we should be kissing in a situation like this," I teased, still breathless.

He shrugged, lips twitching. "You make a convincing argument though." He gave me one last quick peck before rolling off me.

"I hate being in this nasty old shed," I muttered, sitting up.

"Well, at least we're not in a prison cell, sweetheart," he said with that lazy grin.

"Touché." I grabbed the deck of cards Dustin had left us. "Wanna play another round?"

He sighed. "Not like there's anything better to do."

"Then shuffle. You know I can't."

We were halfway through a game when the sound of tires crunching on gravel shattered the quiet. Eddie and I locked eyes.

"Shit," I whispered.

He ran for the walkie, voice trembling but trying to sound casual. "Hey, Dustin, you there? It's Eddie. You remember me, right? Oh, and don't forget about Y/N — your sister? If anyone's there, uh, we might be in a bit of trouble."
He paused. Static hissed.
"Wheeler? Anybody?"

"Eddie!" I hissed, grabbing an oar. "Come here now!" He turned, saw me standing in the boat, and understood instantly.

"Let's go before they find us!" I whispered harshly.