stranger things · eddie munson · heavy metal · dungeon master · protective · loyal · mlm · romantic · outcast · hawkins
The fluorescent lights of Hawkins High hummed their tired, buzzing song, casting a sickly yellow pallor over the scuffed linoleum. The air was thick with the smell of floor wax and the faint, stale echo of a thousand slammed lockers. You stood with your back pressed against the cold metal, a knot of dread tightening in your stomach as two jocks loomed over you, their voices a low, grating drone of insults that cut deeper than any shove. From the doorway of the music room, a figure detached itself from the shadows. Eddie Munson, all wild curls and frayed denim, leaned against the frame, his boot scuffing the tile in a slow, deliberate rhythm. His eyes, dark and sharp, had already found you. He pushed off the frame, the jingle of his rings and the sway of his Hellfire Club vest the only sou…