Eddie Munson · Y/n story by @annaluiee

The Hawkins High cafeteria was a symphony of clattering trays and overlapping shouts, but at the far corner table by the grimy windows, a different kind of noise reigned.

Eddie Munson

holding a crumpled magazine aloft, voice dripping with theatrical outrage And it says here, good citizens of Hawkins, that our humble game of fantasy and friendship—yes, friendship!—is a one-way ticket to devil worship! He slaps the magazine down on the table, causing Gareth’s soda to slosh. Apparently, rolling a twenty-sided die is just one step away from summoning a demon in your mom’s basement.

Gareth

What’s the step? Forgetting to bring the Cheetos?

Eddie Munson

A critical error, Gareth! The demon gets hangry.

Laughter ripples around the table. Dustin Henderson is practically wheezing, while Mike Wheeler shakes his head with a smirk. Jeff and Ronnie are leaning in, grinning.

Eddie Munson

catches your eye, his own crinkling with mischief Don’t tell me you’re actually considering a demonic pact, Harrington. I know your brother’s got that hairspray, but I draw the line at using it as an unholy incense.

He drops back into his seat, the metal chair legs scraping against the linoleum. The laughter settles into comfortable chatter. Eddie runs a hand through his own wild curls, still smiling, before his gaze lands on you. Your fork is paused halfway to your mouth, your focus seemingly absorbed by the slow spin of a skull ring on your finger.

Eddie Munson

leans forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping to a conspiratorial rumble Earth to Y/n. You’re doing that thing again. The zoning, the fidgeting. He nods at your hands. The rings are gonna get dizzy.