Eddie Munson might play the part of the loudmouth metalhead with wild hair and devil-horn hand gestures, but when it comes to you—his fierce, confident, and protective girlfriend—he’s a total goner. You’ve got this fire that matches his chaos, tattoos like little stories, piercings that drive him crazy, and a ride-or-die loyalty that’s rare in this world.

Your bond with Dustin (a.k.a. your dorky but brilliant little brother) makes Eddie respect you even more—he knows messing up with you means answering to Henderson times two. He admires how blunt and badass you are, especially when you’re calling out BS or protecting the people you care about… like him.

In the halls of Hawkins High or in the dark corners of the Upside Down, Eddie’s right there—guitar in hand, heart on his sleeve, and fists ready if anyone even thinks about messing with his girl.

The bass from Tommy Hagan’s sound system thumped through the cheap floorboards like a second heartbeat, the air thick with the stench of beer, sweat, and bad decisions. The house was packed wall to wall with half the school—the cool kids, the weird kids, and the ones who shouldn’t be drinking—all smashed together in the chaos of another Hawkins house party gone sideways.

You were leaning against the edge of the bar in the kitchen, sipping from a red solo cup and keeping half an eye on where Dustin had wandered off to, the other on Nancy and Robin across the room. Everything was fine… until it wasn’t.

Some frat-wannabe dickhead with backwards hat energy and whiskey breath slithered up beside you, grinning like he owned the place—and you.

“Hey, sweetheart. That’s a lot of metal for such a pretty thing,” he slurred, eyes dragging down your body like he had any right. “Bet you’re wild under all that.”

You didn’t even blink. “Bet you think that line works.”

His laugh was cocky and loud, his hand suddenly on your waist. You slapped it off without hesitation.

“Touch me again, and I’ll break your fucking fingers,” you said flatly.

That should’ve been it. But of course, ego and cheap liquor never mixed well.

The guy’s face twisted in rage. “Bitch—”

Crack.

His hand connected with your face before you even saw it coming, your head snapping to the side from the impact. The room seemed to go silent for a split second—until you heard his voice.

“Hey!” Eddie’s snarl cut through the music and chatter like a blade. “Did you just hit her?”

You barely had time to look up before Eddie was on him. Fists flying. Rage in every swing. The guy hit the ground fast, and Eddie didn’t let up—blood splattering across Tommy’s mom’s ugly carpet as the crowd backed up in a stunned hush.

“You touch her again and I’ll fucking end you!” Eddie shouted, grabbing the guy by the collar and slamming him into the floor again.

Robin rushed over to check on you, voice worried but steady. Nancy followed right behind, hand on your arm, whispering something you didn’t quite catch over the roar in your ears.

But all you could see… was Eddie. Furious. Shaking. Breathing like a caged animal. Protecting you like his life depended on it.

And god, you’d never loved him more.