Stranger Things - Imagines

Eddie Munson X Reader - Don't Know How

A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song Don't Know How by Joss Stone. Reader works at the local record store in Hawkins. I hope you all enjoy it. 

(Just a little note; I'm going to be updating a little less frequently because I just had surgery done on my hand and typing is pretty difficult/uncomfortable at the moment, so it's taking me longer than usual to write anything. I hope to be back to full capacity in the next few weeks.)

The store had been quiet all morning, a handful of customers coming and going, browsing more than actually shopping, and you were getting so bored that you'd taken to just sitting behind the counter staring through the shop window, out at the street. You'd barely noticed when someone had walked in, immediately making a beeline for your alternative section whilst you continued tapping your fingers along to the song playing from the turntable beside you. 

And then you had focused. Your new customer was definitely on the alternative side of things, probably more so than anyone else in town. In fact, you were pretty sure that you hadn't seen anyone else walk over to that section in the 3 months that you'd been working for the store. 

But God, he was pretty. Long dark curls and a patch-covered denim vest caught your attention immediately. You could recognise a couple of the band logos. Motorhead. Judas Priest. And covering his back was Dio, bigger than most people would dare to show them off. The others, you weren't so familiar with. 

"I don't know that one," you murmured, drawing his eyes up to you, a small frown pulling at his features. You quickly gestured at his chest, pointing at one of the badges. "I'm usually pretty good with logos," you explained softly, praying that you didn't sound like a total weirdo. "But I don't know that one," you repeated.

A small smile came to his lips. "This one?" he hummed, tapping one of the badges and you nodded. "That's Mercyful Fate. Danish metal band," he explained, watching as your brow only furrowed further. "Melissa? Don't Break the Oath?"

"Oh my God," you suddenly exclaimed. "Is that the one with the big, fiery demon on the cover?"

"That's the one," he confirmed, grinning at you. "I'm Eddie," he added.

You couldn't help the smile that played on your features as he introduced himself. "Y/N," you told him. "And I'm more of a Black Sabbath fan."

"You like the oldies?" he chuckled. "Bet you love Zepplin too."

"Of course I do. Who in their right mind doesn't love Zepplin?"

He just stood smiling at you for a moment, falling completely and utterly in love with you, unbeknownst to you. I mean, it wasn't every day he came across someone who loved the same rock music that he did, especially not someone who looked as pretty and sweet as you, but he supposed it made sense. You worked in a record store, you were bound to try out new stuff that came in, and it was only a matter of time before you discovered good music instead of all that pop crap they played on the radio. 

"You should listen to Mercyful Fate," he finally murmured, blinking himself out of his loved-up haze. "Bet you'd love 'em," he added softly, fiddling with the pin at his chest. 

You nodded slightly. "I'll give them a try," you confirmed, biting down on your bottom lip as he quickly darted back over to the alt section, flipping through the covers until he found the one he was looking for, holding up Don't Break The Oath in victory. He placed it in front of you, sliding it across to your side of the counter. 

"Are you allowed to change the record in here?"

You hesitated for a moment. "We aren't supposed to use the albums from the store-"

"But this one's mine," he corrected softly, giving a little shrug. "Well, technically, it's yours, but I'm paying for it-"

"What?"

He offered you a small, lopsided smile. "Someone's got to give you a proper musical education and I am a great teacher," he told you. "Consider me a strong supporter of the arts," he added when you opened your mouth to protest again. 

"I can't just take this from you. It isn't exactly cheap-

He waved off your comment. "Honestly, it's fine," he muttered. "It's one album and if you like it you can just borrow the others off of me, alright?"

"Alright," you uttered. "But I'll pay you back." You paused for a moment when he put the money down on the counter in front of you. 

"Put it through the register and put it on for me, Sweetheart," he told you. 

You did as you were told, putting the money away and fishing out the change to hand over, and then pulling the plastic covering off of the album and ducking behind the counter to change it over. 

"So," you hummed when the first song started playing. "What other musical genius' can I be expecting to learn about?"

"Well, Megadeth are next. And then Mötley Crüe. And Iron Maiden-" he stopped when he saw you smiling at him, leaning on the counter to watch him talk. "What?"

"Nothin'," you murmured softly. "It's just nice listening to someone talk about something they are so passionate about," you added. "You clearly know your music."

He couldn't help the blush that painted his cheeks at your comment. "I play the guitar too," he uttered. "I'm in this band; we play down at this bar on the other side of town-"

"No way," you started. "When are you playing next? I'd love to come."

He hesitated for a moment. "I'll need to check with the band, but it's usually on a Tuesday night." He paused for just a second, building up the courage to say the next sentence. "Give me your number and I'll call you when I've got the details."

"Amazing." You quickly dipped under the counter, coming back with a pen and pad of paper, scrawling down your name and number on the sheet. "There you go," you hummed, sliding it across to him.

"I expect some thoughts on the album when I call, too," he started, folding the paper and slipping it into the chest pocket of his vest, patting the spot where it sat to make sure it was safely tucked away. 

"I'll be sure to make notes," you confirmed. 

*Time Skip*

When the phone had rung that night, you'd hurried to answer, almost tripping over your own feet in your rush. 

"Hello," you answered in an overly perky voice, wincing at how preppy you sounded.

"Hey, Y/N? It's Eddie."

"Hi," you hummed, biting down on your bottom lip as you listened to him breathing on the other end of the line. "I listened to the album when I got home," you told him. "You were right. I loved it."

You heard him let out a soft bubble of laughter. "Great. I'll have to pop into the store with some of my albums soon," he murmured, the smile clear in his voice. "I was actually calling to let you know that my band are playing at The Hideout this Tuesday, if you wanted to come-" he paused for a moment. "Only if you want to, of course. No pressure or anything-"

"I'd love to come," you interrupted. 

He let out a soft relieved sigh. "Amazing," he confirmed. "We usually go on stage at 8. If you get there a little early I can meet you there, or something-"

"I'll be there at 7," you told him. "I'm looking forward to it."

Shit, Eddie really had hit the jackpot when he stumbled across you. You were pretty and sweet, and you were actually excited to come and see him perform. You were the whole perfect package. 

"I'll see you there, Sweetheart."

"See you there, Eds."

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