𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 eddie finds a new halloween hobby
𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 so incredibly fluffy you might actually cry
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 eddie munson x reader, mechanic eddie, older eddie, established relationship
It started out simple, harmless, even. When Uncle Wayne moved out with his girlfriend, he left you and Eddie alone in the trailer.
Eddie got an itch. An unrelenting, never-ceasing itch.
One night after work, Eddie was picking up some light bulbs at the hardware store per your third request. And he just couldn’t help it. His fingers twitched and his feet were carrying him across the glassy-smooth floors towards the seasonal decorations.
His hands buzzed by his sides as he passed plastic skeletons, felt bats with fuzzy wings that hung from the ceiling, skulls with fake candles that made their cavernous eyes glow yellow. He was in too deep.
When he got home, you glanced down at the giant plastic bag he was holding and sighed.
“Did you get the lightbulbs at least?”
“No,” he admitted softly, but then his eyes lit up. “But, baby, we don’t even need them anymore!” He fished through the giant bag before pulling out the skull, flicking it on and setting it on the kitchen counter. “See!”
“Yeah,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest. “Real practical.”
You turned your back to him, heading down the hall to your bedroom with a secret smile on your face.
When you came back out, Eddie was nowhere to be seen. You called for him a couple times before you heard a short yell of “Fuck!” coming from outside.
“Eddie? You alright?” You asked, poking your head out of the door.
“Yeah just—shit—trying to get these spiderwebs untangled.”
You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, letting him get back to it.
His collection only grew over the years. He couldn’t help it. There was an entire closet in your home dedicated solely to the decorations he’d accumulated. It was brimming with fake cobwebs, little spiders, and gauze ghosts.
Your trailer became the “scary one,” and kids from all around would flock to see what new features Eddie had added that year. They would even go as far as giving Eddie suggestions, like fake blood on the skeletons, or maybe, maybe he could add sound effects!
What really put Eddie on top was when he stuffed a pair of dark blue dickies coveralls with hay and shoved a broken broomstick inside of it, staking it into the ground and finishing it off with a Michael Myers mask.
It became a yearly routine, you would worry about buying the candy, he would worry about the yard and house.
Nancy came around this year to see the place, claiming it was the best she’d ever seen it. Which wasn’t wrong, Eddie had put more time and money into it than ever before. She was quick to pull out her camera and snap a photo of Eddie standing next to the Michael Myers scarecrow.
A couple weeks later, you raced over to the garage with the paper clutched in your hands.
He turned his radio down and wiped his hands, pulling you into a hug.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Look!” You shoved the paper in his face. His eyes landed on a photo of himself and his head jerked back in surprise. He squinted as he skimmed the short article, Local Hawkins Man Makes Halloween Special Every Year With Hauntingly Good Decorations.
And Eddie didn't say anything, he just stalked slowly to the metal foldout chair in the corner, sitting and looking at the paper.
You followed him over to the chair to see a tear sliding down his cheek. Immediately, your brows pulled tight together. “What’s wrong, Eddie?”
“I’ve just—you know, seen my face in the newspaper before but, never for anything good.” He smiled, staring at what Nancy had written.
