Stranger Things - Imagines (Book 2)

Eddie Munson x Reader - Fix You

A/N - This chapter was inspired by one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard, Fix You by Coldplay. For this one, Reader has absolute asshole parents, sorry. I hope you all enjoy it.

Your stomach had been tying itself up in knots ever since you'd gotten your quiz back this morning, your mind trying to find any way to convince your teachers that you deserved better than a D-. Hell, in your household a C+ wouldn't even slide, but at least it was better than what you had achieved.

You'd tried to keep your anxiety hidden in front of your friends, in front of Eddie, but it had been no use. He'd noticed the way your knee was bouncing at the lunch table, the way you'd been quieter than usual, the way you were chewing at your nails as you searched for a solution. 

"You good?" he'd hummed softly, letting his hand rest on your knee, steadying it as he drew your gaze away from your thousand-yard stare and back to him. You nodded quickly, forcing a smile and tearing your hand away from your mouth, all too aware of how blazingly obvious your nervous tells could be. "Come on, Baby," he hummed softly, squeezing your knee lightly. "What's wrong?"

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating your answer before releasing a soft sigh. "Mrs O'Donnell gave back our quizzes this morning," you murmured, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. "I failed again, Ed," you added softly, your eyes brimming with tears. "My parents are going to totally flip their shit; I promised to study-"

"Baby, you did study," he corrected quietly, shifting to wrap his arm around your shoulders. "You spent like 3 whole weeks doing nothing but studying."

"Fat load of good it did; I still failed," you uttered. "And they're still going to be mad that I didn't try hard enough." 

Eddie leant forward, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head. "You want to stay at mine tonight? Let the heat die down at home?" 

"No, that'll just make it worse," you breathed softly, swallowing down the tears that had formed. "They already think I spent too much time with you; they'll just start blaming you for me being stupid-"

"You are not stupid," he bit, pulling away just slightly to look down at you. "My girlfriend is the smartest, prettiest, kindest girl in the world and I won't have you saying nasty stuff like that about her, alright?"

A soft bubble of laughter slipped out of you at the seriousness etched onto his face. "Sorry," you murmured. 

*Time Skip*

It was fair to say that your parents had been exactly as pissed off as you had been expecting. Your father had taken to pacing back and forth in the living room, shaking his head as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

"So, all the times you were at the library studying, where were you really?" your mother bit at you, scowling down at you with her hands on her hips. 

"I was studying-"

"I am not stupid, Y/N," she interrupted. "What were you really doing?"

You hesitated for a moment, your stomach leaping into your throat. "I was at the library. Studying. Like I told you." 

"Liar-"

"I was; I tried really hard this time-"

"So, you spent weeks in the library studying and you're still too stupid to pass an algebra class?"

You took a deep breath, willing away the tears from your eyes. "I'm passing everything else-"

"You need a passing grade in Algebra to get into Harvard. You know this," your father interjected. "Without it, you may as well just start applying to community college," he pressed on. "And then where will you be? Living in a run-down old trailer with that delinquent you call a boyfriend?"

"Don't talk about Eddie like that-"

"You'd never failed anything before he came along, you know."

"I'd never studied Algebra before he came along," you bit back, your jaw tight as you glared at your parents. "You know, he's the reason I passed English Lit last semester; he read To Kill A Mockingbird with me, even though he wasn't doing the class and he read all my essays and corrected the errors." You hesitated for a moment. "Eddie isn't a delinquent; he's smart and he's sweet and he cares about me. He wants me to do well, not just to make you proud of me, but because he wants me to be proud of myself." You sniffled softly, shaking your head. "And I could fail a thousand times over and he would still love me because that's what normal people do. They don't stop loving you because you're bad at math or science or something." 

You hadn't even realised that you were moving until you were out the front door, marching down the street and away from your house. And honestly, you hadn't really had a plan of where to go until your feet had already carried you to Eddie's place. 

Just as you raised your hand to knock, you hesitated, your tongue running over your bottom lip. You really should have called before just showing up like this, should've asked if you could come rather than just assuming. You shouldn't be intruding like this. 

You'd just turned, ready to head back home, when the door had opened behind you. "Baby?" You froze, standing stock still as if maybe he wouldn't see you if you didn't move. "Babe, what are you doing?"

As you finally released the breath you had been holding, the emotions of the evening overwhelmed you, your shoulders shaking as you let out a gut-wrenching sob. 

"Oh Princess," Eddie hummed softly, taking the steps two at a time in bare feet to get to you, and turning you around as gently as possible to pull you into his chest. "I've got you," he started again, his hands running over your spine, soothing you. 

Eddie could feel the eyes of the neighbours in an instant, could practically hear the whispers already, and turned the two of you, shielding you from the prying eyes with his body. 

"Let's get you inside, Sweetheart," he started softly, pulling back just enough to look at your tear-stained face. "Come on; I've got a blanket and a whole load of snacks with your name on 'em," he added, steering you towards the trailer with little effort.

Eddie situated you on the couch once you were inside, retreating to his bedroom to gather the blanket he had mentioned for you, only to find you staring blankly at the wall when he came back. 

"So," he hummed, watching as you blinked out of your haze to look at him. "They didn't take it well, huh?" You shook your head slightly. "It's one class, sweetheart; it's not like you're failing a whole year-"

"If I don't get a B+ in Algebra I won't get into Harvard-"

"Baby, you don't even want to go to Harvard," Eddie interrupted. "You wanted to go to Barnard College; you only put Harvard down to shut your dad up in the first place-"

You released a deep breath. "Yeah, but-"

"Where do you want to go?" 

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I want to go to Barnard and major in Art History," you confessed quietly.

"Then D- is a perfectly fine grade and you'll get in no questions asked, Princess. Hell, they'd be idiots to turn you down with the rest of your grades being as high as they are." Eddie moved to crouch in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. "You need to be honest with your parents about what you want, Baby. You can't just do what they want you to for the rest of your life because they throw a tantrum when you don't." 

"Okay," you breathed softly. "Can you come with me when I tell them?"

He nodded, smiling when your hands came to rest on top of his. "If you want me there, then I'll be right at your side."

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