scottie-writes

[scottie-writes]

The Moment I Knew

---------------------------------------------------- A short fanfic about Taylor Swift's song, "The moment I knew".

When the person you love leaves you hanging in the wind, you know enough is enough -------------------------------------------------

It was the night of my 21st birthday.  The house was covered in twinkling lights and full of friends and family.  I should have felt amazing.  It should have been one of the best nights of my life. But, instead, it was the night I knew i’d be left heartbroken again.  It was the night I learned how little my love counted in the grand scheme of his life. 

I had been so excited in the lead-up to the day.  We had talked about it, well I had talked about it almost nonstop for weeks. That really should have been my first clue, how little he seemed to care about the plans.  My friends from back home were making a special trip to the city to celebrate with me, and I had spent hours making sure they had places to stay.  My parents were coming too, their only daughter was officially all grown up, which was momentous. During all this, he only gave short comments, “sounds great, babe”, and “yeah, can’t wait”.  But never did he say he couldn’t make it. He promised he’d be there.  He swore he’d be there. 

On the day of the party, my best friend is with me getting ready.  He has plans with someone, a friend? A work colleague? Looking back, I don’t think he told me where he was going.  Before he left, I told him when the party was starting and asked when he thought he would be done.  Giving a non-committal shrug, he says he’s not sure when he’ll be done - “I’ll see you later”, he says, kissing my forehead and grabbing his coat.  I ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach.  Sure, he’d missed things before, dinners, nights out.  But he would never miss something so important to me.  He promised he’d be there. 

My dress is perfect, it fits me just right, and the sparkle is understated but still fun.  I work on my hair, thinking about the big bouncy curls of my youth. I instead decide on a sleek undo.  It’s more grown up, I tell myself. Of course, I do keep my signature red lips. My makeup makes me feel like a Hollywood starlet, like the whole world is at my feet. 

The party starts, and it all feels incredible.  Everyone is there for me, everyone except him.  He’s probably running late, I say to myself.  He would never miss this; he loves me. An hour passes, and he still hasn’t shown up; he hasn’t called or texted.  Nothing.  I’m a few drinks in, and the doubt starts to creep into my mind. Where is he? Why hasn’t he called? Is he on his way? Time feels like it's moving slower, and I can barely keep up with the people around me.  I somehow manage to keep conversations flowing.  “I’m fine”, “how have you been?”, “yeah, I’m having a great night”.  All the while, my eyes fix the door, waiting for the moment I know is coming.  He’s going to show up slightly dishevelled in that sexy way he has.  He’s going to smile and have an excellent excuse for being late, “ I’m sorry baby, my meeting ran late; I rushed here as soon as I could”. 

Another hour passes, and he’s still not here.  People have started asking questions about him.  Asking me where my handsome boyfriend is.  I don’t even know.  I give a little smile and say, “Oh, I’m sure he’s on his way; he said he’d come”. But I can see it in their eyes—sympathy, pity, doubt. As the drinks keep flowing, holding back the hurt is harder.  The next time someone asks, a small tear forms and threatens to leak down my face ruining the makeup that had made me feel like I could take on the whole world.  I’m starting to doubt myself now. Did he say he was coming? I’m sure he did. 

As I stand there, getting another drink.  In a room full of people, I suddenly feel so alone.  I feel like I’m playing dress-up, trying to impress someone who couldn’t even see me.  I was trying to be mature and elegant, and it was all for him.  And he wasn’t even there. Finally, my best friend clocks the moment I’m about to lose it and ushers me into a bathroom.  And once the door shuts and the music dulls, my chest cracks; the flood I've been holding back takes over me once and for all.  She holds me as I sob; when I catch my breath, all I can say is, “he said he’d be here”. 

That night was the beginning of the end.  It was the moment I knew I meant nothing at all to him.  

My friend manages to calm me down and clean me up, and we go outside for the birthday cake.  All of the people I love are in that room.  All but one of them.  And as they sing happy birthday to me, I don’t feel happy at all.  I feel hollow.  I feel numb.  I feel stupid.  I feel like I’m still a kid.  It's the worst feeling I’ve ever known. I turn off my phone, knowing there will be no call that night.  I drink a little more and dance with my friends, and I try to have fun, but it all feels wrong. 

The next morning, when my phone rings, I’m alone in my apartment, nursing a coffee.  He’s finally decided to call.  He gives me some bullshit excuse about losing track of time and not wanting to ruin the fun by showing up late. I say nothing; there will be no absolution this time.  He finally says he’s sorry.  “I’m sorry too,” I say as I hang up the phone.  

The break-up doesn’t happen right away.  It takes another couple of days.  But finally, he asks what’s wrong when we’re watching a movie on his stupid couch.  Over the last couple of days, I’ve noticed everything about him that rubs me the wrong way.  “Are you seriously asking me that?” I say, raising my eyebrows at him.  It starts a blowout fight.  We scream and yell and pick apart our relationship.  He calls me immature; I call him selfish. And then it's over.  The calm settles, and it's over.  I grab my things and walk home.  The tears mercifully wait until I get home, where I break down and feel all the hurt that has been building. 

I think back to that part sometimes.  The moment I blow out the candles is seared in my mind perfectly.  The fact he wasn’t there, that he never walked through that door.  That moment, I’ll never let someone make me feel the way I did at that moment ever again. 

[scottie-writes]

[scottie-writes]

Under the Influence (CH2) (Harrington!Reader) (Cousin AU)

Chapter 3 - Assimilating with the locals

Summary: It doesn’t take long for you to go stir-crazy in the Harrington compound.  After breaking the rules and feeling the consequences, you venture out into the working world.  

Tags: female reader, Harrington! ReaderCousin! AU, Scoops Ahoy, SFW, Eddie Munson,

Warnings: physical punishment, denial of food, smoking, talk of drugs

w/c: 2.2K

Ch. 1 , Ch. 2

A/N: Welcome and welcome back! Thank you for your patience and encouraging likes. I won't ramble to long, but we're getting to the good stuff, in my opinion anyway - enjoy

It takes exactly three days for you to get in trouble. 

You had been given a list of chores while Steve and his parents headed out to their respective workplaces and engagements.  It was about 11.30, and you had started the list but soon found yourself taking just a quick, 2-hour break.  In those two hours, Steve's warning about his dad's bloodhound-like nose slipped your mind. 

You sit out back, smart enough not to smoke inside, and light up your first cigarette.  You soon go through 3 before thinking you’d better pace yourself.  The Harringtons were well known in town, and you had no idea if your fake ID would be any good here. 

When your aunt returns a few hours later, she doesn’t comment that although chores have been done, they are not to her usual standard.  She’s a softer touch than your uncle and doesn’t mind restocking the towels in the order she likes them. It’s a different story once your uncle comes home.  When he arrives, you're helping your aunt prepare dinner as he enters the kitchen, saying hello to his wife and moving past you to the fridge; you notice his nose wrinkle as a look of disgust washes across his face.  It's at that moment you remember what Steve said.  You hadn’t even tried to hide the smell of smoke on your breath or clothes.  

It resulted in a screaming match, which you feel proud to have her your own in until your uncle's hand shoots out towards you; he grabs your arm and marches you up to your room.  Demanding you hand over any contraband you have stashed away.  Your arm hurts where he’s holding you just a bit too tight; the shock brings you close to tears.  You break and give him the carton of cigarettes.  In an effort to catch up with your chores this afternoon, you had shoved it under your pillow this afternoon if they had been found, you wouldn’t have berated yourself for leaving them in such a dumb hiding place, but now you blessed your past self as you original hiding place thankfully remained a secret - not that there was anything left in it. Still, you never knew when you would have something worth hiding.  Your uncle screamed some more, brandishing the cigarettes in your face, ranting and raving about your insubordination, disregard for your health, and apparent disdain for the law. Finally, as he ran out of words, it was declared that you were to go to bed without dinner.  And with that, he slammed the door behind him, returning downstairs to your aunt.

A few hours later, Steve knocks on your door. “well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you”, he drawls, leaning against the door frame.  Your grain and bury your head in your pillow.  “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Steve continues, “just don’t get caught again.”  You lift your head and offer him a smile, “I’ll be home soon enough” you reason, “this whole thing is so not fair”, you whine, swinging your legs over the side of your bed. Steve chuckles and nods. “Yeah, no one ever said life is fair.”   He chucks you a bread roll, a small show of solidarity.  It lands on your bed, and you smile as he vacates your room, leaving you with your thoughts and what would be dinner for the evening. 

---

You’ve been in Hawkins just over a week, and you can feel yourself getting antsy.  You had earned some tiny slivers of freedom, and being allowed to walk to the store was the biggest.  You had thought about buying new cigarettes until the teller recognised you.  She gushed about your aunt and uncle, even about Steve.  It was then that you knew you would never be able to get your fix on your own.  It was bad enough that you didn’t have any weed; you had been relying on those cigarettes to get you through the next two months. So you settle for some sour candy, hoping the burn of the sugar will cool some of your cravings.  It works for a day. 

At dinner that night, Steve is complaining about how busy Scoops has been. The temperature is starting to build to that summer high, and people can’t get enough of their ‘sea of flavours’.  You fight an eye roll and hold back a grimace as you clear your throat and say something you swore you wouldn’t do. 

“If you guys need some help, I’d be interested,” you say, shuffling some peas around your plate.  Your uncle starts to splutter, but your Aunt steps in before he can get a word out.  “That’s a wonderful idea, y/n.” She smiles and then turns to Steve. “I’m sure another body could only help, right dear?”.  Steve nods and mutters some agreement. After some further blustering and your aunt making a few comments about idle hands and a very brief reminder of your uncle's deal regarding a summer job, he comes around to the idea.  He says it will give you a sense of responsibility and keep you out of trouble. You agree to head to his shift with him tomorrow. 

---

It’s a dawdle convincing the manager at scoops to hire you.  He hands you a uniform and disappears, taking advantage of the extra body to ‘get admin work done’.  You all know he won’t be back until closing.  Steve introduces you to Robin, who seems cool enough, but she rambles a lot, and it gates a little.  As she finished the 20 minutes that count as training you and she returned to the back of the store, waiting for the afternoon rush to come. 

 Robin grills you about living with Steve as you potter about trying to keep your hands busy. She throws questions at you like a spitfire.  What’s Steve really like? Is he that cocky at home? What was he like as a kid? The works. 

“No, seriously, he takes like half an hour to his hair in the morning,” you tell the girl; she snorts a little as you both laugh.  Steve pokes his head through the window glaring at you both, “you guys gonna keep gossiping about me or are you gonna actually work?” He grumbles, fluffing his hair as he does before placing his little hat just so.  It is technically part of the uniform, but Steve is the only one who bothers to wear it consistently.  Deep down, you think he secretly loves the sailor outfit.   It doesn’t take long for the rush to start, and it doesn’t stop for hours; you each get a few minutes in the back every so often, but it's chaotic. It almost takes your mind off the craving that is starting to make your teeth itch, what you wouldn’t give for just one cigarette.  He’ll, just one puff would do you.  

By the time 3 pm rolls around, you’re exhausted and so ready for a lunch break.  You jump over the counter, waving to Steve and Robin as you head to the food court. Steve makes you promise to bring him back the biggest coke you can find despite having already had his lunch break.  It's not your fault if he spends his time chasing chicks instead of eating lunch like a normal person. You say nothing but salute him as you walk out of the store just in time to miss his most recent recitation of the Scoops Ahoy flavours to the lovely ladies of Hawkins. You swear your eyes could roll out of your head if they could.  

As you nab a seat, burger in hand, you take in the surroundings.  The mall is bustling with people all enjoying their time off.  Kids are there with their parents or older siblings, and couples walk hand in hand.  You take in the stores around you. Although most of them are your basic run-of-the-mill stores, you notice the theatre and entertain the idea of some time in there after work, delaying the mind-numbing boredom of the Harrington household.  You wonder what your uncle would say if you told him you had made a friend; Robin seemed like a great excuse not to go home.  Hanging out with her was better than being at home alone; even if she didn’t want to hang out, no one at home had to know.

  You notice a music store a little ways past the food court; it's a little quieter than the rest of the mall, people mostly pass it by, and while it has one or two signs displaying the pop princesses of the day, you notice the majority of the window is taken up by the bands you often find yourself turning too. You finish your burger and dump your trash in the garbage before walking over; with a few minutes left before you have to head back, you might as well relish your small freedoms. 

As you walk in, you can feel rather than hear the thump of the music.  It kept at a respectable level, but you know, if it were louder, the well-to-do citizens of Hawkins would probably steer clear, which would not be good for business.  You walk past the pop albums heading towards the back where the ‘Scarier’ music tended to live in towns like this.  As you thumb through the albums and cassettes, sipping the coke you promised Steve, your attention is broken by a gaggle of boys bursting through the door, laughing and hollering each other.  They’re nothing special, but one guy catches your eye.  He has a mop of curly brown hair, and his smile lights up his whole face. He shoves his friend as they move through the stacks.  You try to keep your looks subtle, but the way he holds himself yells at you.  He’s confident and relaxed, but then you check your watch.  You’re late. 

“Shit”, you mutter as you turn for the door, colliding headfirst with a wall of leather and denim.  “Whoa, where’s the fire?” that warm voice tickles your ears as you look up and come face to face with the guy you had been eyeing.  There’s the unmissable smell of weed and cigarettes circling him, and you curse not having the time to ask him who his dealer is.  You mutter a sorry as you push past, running back towards scoops.  Whilst you were pretty sure the manager couldn’t care less, you couldn’t risk getting fired on your first day - not when it would get back to your uncle, who would probably lock you up out of spite for the rest of the summer.  

---

You’re only 5 minutes late as you jump over the counter at scoops, and though Steve whines, you’re not in any trouble. Especially once you hand over his coke, he heads into the back for a few moments of respite. The rate of customers slows towards the end of the day, and the manager only comes back to shut up the shop.   You exchange some pleasantries with Robin as you all head to the parking lot.  You notice the helmet the Robin carries but mention nothing about it; the Mall wasn’t the closest to town, and depending on where she lived, it could be a bit of a journey, especially using pedal power. The Mall entrance is where she parts ways with you and Steve, “ so you’ll be back tomorrow?” She says, fastening her helmet, “oh, absolutely,” you drawl, “ It’s always been my dream to sling frozen dairy products”, you reply with a laugh.  She nods, and Steve lets out a small laugh, waving as she heads off. 

 As you head towards Steve's car, you catch a familiar scent, weed and tobacco.  Out of the corner of your eye, you see the boys from the music store gathered around a tatty-looking van not too far from Steve's car. You don’t look long, but the smell wafting across the parking lot has you craving the sweet release that only contraband can bring.  You look away quickly; you wouldn’t be getting to smoke anytime soon.  Not with the Harrington bloodhound waiting at home for you every night. The thought puts you in a bit of a funk, and you stay silent as Steve drives you home.  He doesn’t prod and leaves you to your brooding.  Thankful the irritation has waned by the time you reach home. 

The evening passes without incident; your uncle doesn’t even ask about your day. Instead, he reminds you and Steve of the expectations that you both clear away dinner. 

---

You lie on your bed that night after showering, contemplating the past week.  The yellow walls in your youth had been somewhat comforting, but now feeling claustrophobic.  The lack of personal touches does nothing but remind you that this is a punishment.  And without meaning, too, you find yourself thinking about the boy in the leather jacket.  Someone in this backwoods town was dealing, and he knew who.  You formulate a plan as you lie there, wet hair soaking through your pillow.  A plan that would get you what you needed without getting caught.  

[scottie-writes]

Okay guys. Full honesty I am still working on under the influence but I started a new job and Christmas is on the way so like my creative juices have slowed. Thanks to everyone who’s liked it so far, it will continue!

[scottie-writes]

Under the Influence(CH.2)(Harrington!Reader)(Cousin AU)

CH. 2 Welcome to hell Hawkins

Summary: Summer is long and boring - but maybe your parents had the right sort of idea.  You become reacquainted with your cousin, and your small-town adventure begins. 

Tags: female reader, Harrington! ReaderCousin! AU, Scoops Ahoy, SFW, TW!mention of abuse(alluded to),

w/c: 3.2K

A/N: If you're here, thanks for returning and thanks for reading. If you're new, Welcome! you can find chapter 1 here We're still building, but we get to say hello to a familiar face, with more on the way soon! I swear Eddie is going to make an appearance in the near future!

...“It's decided.  She’s going to Hawkins.”...

-⌘-

The sound of your fork hitting the plate as if it comes from miles away, your parent's voices blurring as your mind whirls.  

Hawkins? Really? Did he think sending you away was the solution? It just solidified that you were not the child your parents wanted, and now they couldn’t even face you.  You could hear your parents discussing things, your dad sounding calmer now, but you only caught bits of what was said. “Do you think that will help?”, “I can’t stand this all summer, Mary”. 

Again, it was about them more than it was about you.  They were selfish, you decided.  They are selfish, stuck-up assholes.  Eventually, they turned to you, the subject of their never-ending disappointment. 

“Well, young lady, what do you have to say to that?” Your dad asked; surely he didn’t expect an answer from you? Surely he didn’t actually care about your thoughts on the matter? Not when it was blindingly clear they didn’t care one iota about who you were or what you needed.  You felt defeated, a hollow ache in your chest threatening to consume all of you if you dared examine it too closely.  You didn’t even notice the few tears that had escaped your eyes. “Fine”, you huffed, shoving your chair back, bonding your dinner in favour of the sanctuary of your room.  Why fight anymore? They didn’t care enough to try to set you straight for more than a few days.  

That night you cried.  Not entirely sure why; you should have expected something like this would happen.  In truth, you thought they would last a bit longer, at least two weeks, and then the anger would fade; work would reassert its dominance in their lives, and the grounding would be all but forgotten. You didn’t think they would get rid of you, like a sweater that was no longer in fashion. Once you heard them go to bed, you brought out the packet of cigarettes you had managed to hide away in your room and snuck out to the street outside your house.  You wandered for a short while, smoking and thinking.  You had two cigarettes left in that packet; you knew you would need more soon.  All the stores nearby would be closed by now, not that you had your fake ID anymore.  That had been swept away with your tapes - the cassettes being a convenient hiding spot for that particular piece of evidence of your misdeeds.  You head to your friend Tina's house.  A friend was maybe a strong word - you guys liked to smoke together.  Tossing a few rocks at her window to get her attention, you beckon her down to the street.  Filling her in takes a little longer than you would like. 

“Dude, is it true you punched the principal?” She asked, eyes wide and searching your face. “What? No! Who told you that?” You ask, lighting one of the last cigarettes before handing it to her. “It’s all over school,” She says almost gleefully.  “You’re a legend. Some kids are saying you tore up his office and got sent to juvie for assaulting him with a knife.” She chuckled before passing the cigarette back to you. “A knife? Seriously? The student body needs to get a handle on their fantasies.” You say, taking a long drag. “Well, as you can see, I’m not in juvie," she snorts and nods, the cigarette passing between you both. “I didn’t even really do anything.  I got mad a screamed a little.  I did break his clock, though.” You smirked at the memory of that stupid “teacher of the year” hitting the ground.  

“Either way, y/n, you're never living that reputation down now.  I even heard the teacher gossiping about it," which earned a groan from you. “What are you doing here anyway? You on the run?” She said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. You sigh and push your hair out of your face, “Kinda,” scuffing your toes along the pavement.  “My parents are sending me away for the summer; they think it's gonna straighten me out” Tina laughs again and finishes the cigarette, dousing it on the street. “Damn, that sucks” “Yeah, they took all my shit, so my ID’s gone. I was wondering if you had any smokes stashed away you would mind donating to a legend in need” you give your best attempt at puppy dog eyes as you plead with your occasional smoking buddy.  “Jeez man, ugh, I dunno. Hang on, lemme go check”.  

As she retreated into her house, you sat down on the step, head in your hands.  This is what it had come to.  No friends to say goodbye to, just an acquittance to ask for favours from. Before you could wallow too deeply, Tina returned two packets in her hands.  “All right, just because you're a legend now.  I’ve got a full pack and a half pack,” she hands them over to you and pats your shoulder. “Make good use of them.  I expect you to return the favour when you come back,” she says.  “Thanks, Tina, you’re a lifesaver” “Yeah yeah, don’t get all mushy on me”. You give her a mock salute as you start to make your way back home.  You would have to make these last. 

-⌘-

You’re an expert at sneaking in and out of your house, but you're still relieved when you make it back inside without your parents stirring.  Once back inside your bedroom, you tuck your newly acquired packets into your hiding spot - the belly of a stuffed animal that once carried a hot water bottle.  You’d had it since Christmas 1972, the only year Grandpa Otis chose Chicago over Hawkins. He brought you the bear, and it had kept you warm for years; it was one of the few things your parents didn’t feel the need to remove from you.  They probably thought it would remind you of better times.  You stuffed the two boxes into the bear, having smoked that last of your own stash on the way home and disposing of the carton. Looking around your room, you saw the life your parents had wanted you to have. The soft pink walls that would seem cosy to some made you feel like you were suffocating.  Looking in the mirror, you appeared out of place. Messy hair, flushed skin, and smeared mascara- the result of a seemingly endless supply of tears.

It took two days for your parents to arrange everything. “They're so looking forward to seeing you, dear,” your mom cooed as she 'helped' you pack. She relished the opportunity to get rid of the clothes she loathed the most. Your comfiest pair of Jeans, riddled with holes at the knees, were promptly removed from your bag and thrown in the trash. Usually, you would push back demand to keep them, but your fighting spirit is gone; why fight when they didn't even want you around anymore? You stopped seeing what went into your modest suitcase; it wasn’t much.  You were only going for a few weeks, after all.  In a shocking turn of events, you were given a modest allowance, $15 for the whole summer, so you didn’t have to be more of a burden on your Aunt and Uncle than you already were. It wouldn’t stretch too far based on your current spending habits - vices don’t come cheap, but from your parent's perspective, you weren’t supposed to be doing anything fun anyway. 

-⌘-

You get off the bus in Indianapolis, yes, the bus; they didn't even have the decency to drive you to hell themselves and are surprised to see Steve waiting for you. You walk up to him, bags in hand and sweat forming on your brow. " uh... Hey,” you give him a small wave as he takes your suitcase, leaving you with your tattered backpack and heads for the trunk. "I was expecting either Aunt Pearl or Uncle Andrew - not that it's not nice to see you”, you say as you both get in the car. “Yeah, well, they both had to work this morning, and I'm their errand boy these days," he says, starting the car up "It's nice to see you too.” He says after a long silence. You give him a small smile as he turns the radio on the rest of the drive passing in comfortable silence.

As you arrive in Hawkins, it's hard not to notice the changes. The stores on Main Street were either closed down or looked like they were on the verge of it. Steve must have noticed you staring  "they opened a mall,” He says with an easy tone, "it's a cool place, but it's tough competition” you nod silently. "I got a job at an ice cream place there; yeah, it's gonna do me for the summer, get me some life experience before going to college..." you let Steve ramble while you get lost in your thoughts.

Your Aunt is home by the time Steve pulls in the driveway. She hugs you as you come in, sending Steve to deposit your bags in the guest room.  

" y/n dear, it's been so long, my you’ve grown up so much since we saw you last," you placate her with small talk, both of you avoiding the reason for your visit. She rambles about your parents, how much the town has changed in the past few years and about a few other things you don’t catch.  You shift on your feet, you had been standing in the kitchen for about 15 minutes listening to her natter on, and it was starting to give you a headache.  All you wanted was a smoke - you hadn’t had one since you got on the bus, and that familiar itch was creeping up your throat.  She must have noticed your attention wandering then, “Oh, look at me twittering one.  You must be exhausted, dear. Why don’t you get settled and washed up.  Dinner will be ready in about an hour. ” You gave her a tight smile as you nodded and headed towards the guest room — your room for the next few months.  It hadn’t changed much in the past few years; the room was a familiar shade of yellow - although the paper had been changed.  It was stripped now, the last time you were here and had been swirly.  It was a nice change from your own suffocatingly pink room back home.  

Your bags sit on the bed, the soft pastels taunting you as your hang up the dresses and sweaters sets your mother had packed for you.  You noticed that a few of the t-shirts you had picked out for yourself had mysteriously disappeared.  You were left with one plain black shirt on one band shirt your mother obviously hadn’t looked too closely at. “Bitch,” you mumbled as you searched the rest of your bag.  As suspected, you had been left with only two pairs of jeans - light wash and pristine. You thank your good sense for wearing your black pair on the trip.  Luckily your hide-a-bear had made it to Indiana with you fully intact.  You pulled out a carton of cigarettes without really thinking about it.  

“I wouldn’t smoke those anywhere near the house if you know what's good for you” the sudden interruption jolted you as you remembered you hadn't even shut the door. “Jesus, Steve, you nearly gave me a heart attack," he chuckled as you stuffed the carton back into your bear and placed it pride of place on the middle of the pillows.  “What the big deal anyway, you gonna rat me out?” Steve looks a little disgruntled as the words leave your mouth. “Nah, what you do to your body is up to you.  But my dad has a nose like a bloodhound” he leant his body against the doorframe crossing his arms, and he looked at you, eyes serious and unwavering “I hung out with a friend once in junior year; they had one cigarette - I didn’t even touch the thing” His pitch was climbing, and a tone of defensiveness was creeping in “two hours later I came home, and my dad could smell it on me - Let's just say the aftermath wasn’t pretty” a grimace crosses your face as you wonder just what exactly your uncle’s punishment had been. You let out a heavy sigh and push your hair back off your face “sheesh, all right. well, thanks for the heads up.” He nods and moves to leave before turning back “besides, those things’ll kill you,” you smirk as he walks away.  You close the door this time and stretch out on the bed.  It was going to be a long summer. 

-⌘-

Dinner is ready precisely as your uncle arrives home from work.  It was a slightly awkward affair.  Your Aunt was the epitome of sunshine on a cloudy day - her tone was always delightful, and she carried most of the conversation herself your Uncle emulated the clouds, passing brief grunts of acknowledgement and adding his pessimistic two cents to her stories.  He finally addressed the dark cloud looming over your head towards the end of dinner. 

“Now, Y/N, I think it’s time we discuss why you are here.” He pushes his empty plate away and reaches for his beer. Your Aunt goes to start clearing the dishes, and he stops her. “Not yet, Pearl; I think we all need to understand the ground rules here” Her eyes flutter once, then rest on the table in front of her; you catch Steve rolling his eyes as subtly as possible.  Your Uncle clears his throat, getting your attention. “I am aware of your less than desirable behaviour, young lady.” He fixes you with a stare, giving you the impression that looking away would land you in a world of trouble “ Your school work is disastrous; you are rude and impetuous.  I mean swearing at a teacher, your principal, no less! In my day, that would never fly.  You're lucky your father didn’t beat the sense back into you long ago.” You flinched at the words, remembering Steves's face from earlier and understanding just what kind of man your Uncle was.  Your father had a temper, but he had never been violent. “I understand from speaking with your father the conditions of your punishment whilst at home.  You will be under the same conditions here.  You will not leave this house without our express permission, you will not be out of this house any later than 10pm, you will not engage in any illegal activities, and most importantly, you will not make a spectacle of yourself in this town.” 

As he lists the conditions of your sentence, you feel a flush creep up your neck and into your cheeks.  You find yourself holding back tears, and whether they were borne of anger or sadness, you weren’t quite sure.

“I have a few conditions of my own.” He continued, “In this house, we earn our keep.  You will have chores that will be completed to my standard without complaint.  You may seek a summer job - should you be successful, the limits of your punishment will be renegotiated.” He finally takes a long sip of his beer, and your eyes slip down to the table. This is a side to your uncle you had never seen before, he was calm and collected, but you could sense the roiling storm under his words - the one that would break free should you disappoint him in any way. “Do we understand each other, Y/N?” You raise your eyes to meet his “Yes, sir” he gives you a curt nod and leaves the table.  You understand from his mannerism that there will be no further conversation on the matter.  Following Steve's lead you help to clear the table and take up position in the kitchen to do the dishes.   

“He means it, you know”, Steves says as he scrapes leftovers into the trash, “huh?”,  “His conditions,” Steve says with a raised eyebrow. “He’ll see them through.” His tone is sombre, but with an edge that you can’t ignore.  You mumble and agree and nod as you dry the plate in front of you, returning it to the right cabinet once you’re satisfied. Steve continues, a little light entering his voice. “I mean, he is a man of his word.  Nothing stronger than the Harrington word, y’know.” He’s preoccupied with scrubbing a baking dish. “He’ll follow through on that job promise.  I took advantage of the same deal, if I’m honest.” You continue to dry and put away dishes quietly. “I could get you a job at Scoops if you’re interested. It pays crap, but it gets you outta the house” you consider it for a moment and flat him a smile.  “Thanks, Stevie, but it doesn’t sound like my kinda thing.  I’ll just be a house rat for the summer.” He nods as he hands you the last dish. “Besides, what’s a few weeks of solitude?  Maybe I’ll get some reading done.” He huffs and runs a hand through his hair handing your the last dish of the evening. “Whatever floats your boat, lemme me know if you change your mind.” He pats the doorframe before leaving you with your thoughts.  You sigh and lean against the counter, contemplating the lot life has handed you.  

As you climb the stairs to bed, your mind swirls.  You notice the creaks in the stairs, thinking about how in your own home, you knew the floors so well you could sneak in at 3am making less noise than a mouse.  You would have a much harder time sneaking out of here.  And even if you managed it, where would you go? The Harringtons were well known in Hawkins, and it was only a matter of time before everyone knew you were one of them.  There would be no hiding in plain sight here.  You stared at the bear on your pillow, itching to take its contents and release your stress, but Steves's words and your Uncle's threats echoed in your mind.  No point risking it on night one. 

You pick through the last of your things, a worn copy of ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe’ at the bottom of your backpack.  It had been your favourite growing up, but you hadn’t touched it in a few years.  The thumb the pages, soft under your fingers.  You remember the first time your mom read it to you.  You had a nightmare about the Witch, and it was a while before she read it to you again.  But it quickly became a favourite and fuelled your love of reading. You sit it on the nightstand and pull out the magazines you’d bought at the bus station.  Flicking through them until your eyes got drowsy and falling asleep with the lamp on. 

[scottie-writes]

I’m starting to suspect that the only way to get my fics written is to write them

[scottie-writes]

In my room

tw: mentions of blood, bruising, and k*lling, unprotected sex, (don't be silly, cover your willy) and eddie being so in love with you that he goes a lil crazy. this is a poorly written smut so minors DNI!

a/n: i've been WAITING for october to come so that i can post this😭 i don't stan insane clown posse i just heard this song on tiktok and ran with it! i hope you guys enjoy and happy early halloween! credit to the gif owner <3

The party cheered as Lucas rolled the dice, the number they were wishing for appearing before their very eyes. They watched with eager eyes as Eddie acted out what was happening. Shouts came from every direction telling Lucas what he should do. Eddie let out a laugh and took a glance at his watch. He feels his heart drop to his stomach when he sees the time, he's late. Eddie is never late. He stands up from his chair legs slightly shaking at the thought of not seeing you tonight.

“Woah, Eddie are you alright?” Dustin asked with concern. Eddie ignored him, he was grabbing his things and stuffing it in his backpack.

“Eddie, chill out, what's going on?”

“I’m late, I'm so fucking late she's going to kill me.”

Mike looked at the party and they were just as confused.

“Who?”

“Y/n!”

Mike, Lucas, and Dustin tensed at the mention of your name. They locked eyes trying to figure out what to tell him, but they all stayed silent not knowing how to tell him.

“We'll finish the campaign next week, sorry guys.” Eddie mumbled out while he ran out of the theatre room. Silence fell over the party before grumbling started making their ways out.

“I don't get it? I thought she-”

“Shut up Gareth.” Dustin said.

-

Eddie must've broken every traffic law to get back to the new trailer that his new government official friends got him and his uncle. He roughly puts the van into park, not even grabbing his things, and rushes into the trailer. He throws a short hey to his uncle before he goes into his room and slams the door shouting out a sorry from the force of it. His uncle let out a sigh and turned his attention back to the phone.

“Yeah, yeah he's doing it again. I'm just so worried about him, he hasn't been the same since we got hit with that massive earthquake.”

Eddie let out a sigh as he tried to ignore the words he was hearing through the thin walls. He knows his uncle isn't wrong, he hasn't been the same since the so-called earthquakes but it's not his fault. How is he supposed to go back to normal when your body was still trapped in the upside-down cold and not moving? He checked the time again, mumbling out a curse when he saw 9:30 flashing across the small digital screen, you were still nowhere in sight.

He starts to nervously pace the room, the words from his uncle seem louder now as he gets lost in his own thoughts. He remembers how some bullies laid off him once the “earthquakes” hit, your disappearance shaking the town to their core. It seemed like they couldn't rest, there was either a great number of deaths, or a great number of disappearances.

“Sorry for your loss, Eddie.” A cheerleader said to him.

“Yeah! She was like, really pretty. It's like so sad.”

Eddie watched with empty eyes and her friend dragged her away saying you can't say shit like that Becky. The image of you pushing him out of the way and distracting the bats so that he can live still plague his mind. He remembers the group prying him off of your cold body, tears streaming down his face as he begs for them to take you. He can't leave you here all alone, he won't do that to you. The group promised that they'd come back for you, but he knew it was an empty promise because months have passed and they haven't set foot near the gate.

He starts to nervously chew at his nails at the thought of not seeing you tonight. He goes to lay on his bed, bringing his knees to his chest trying not to cry. Were you really that upset with him that you weren't going to visit him tonight? You always came to visit, he knew he should've cancelled his plans tonight. Maybe if he just stayed in his room you'd get to be with him forever like you both originally planned. He feels a chill run down his spine and he quickly turns around to face the window. You're close, you have to be. Eddie always gets cold when you're around. His eyes stayed glued to the window but could only stay open for so long before he found himself drifting off to sleep.

-

Eddie hears soft tapping at his window, he lets out a groan and turns away from the noise.

“Are you gonna let me in?”

His eyes shoot open and he turns toward the window, his heart leaps out of his chest when he sees your silhouette waiting for him to open the window. He stumbles out of his bed, his blanket still wrapped around his leg and fumbles to open the window. You let out a giggle at how frantically he's moving but you know how much he needs you.

“You came!” He said breathlessly once the window was opened. You smiled at him.

“That I did, I stopped by earlier but you weren't here.” You said with a pout.

“I know, I’m so sorry. The campaign ran a little later than I thought and I didn't even realize the time. I’m so sorry-”

“Eddie, relax. it's okay I’m here now.”

Eddie lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. A smile appears on his face as his eyes open back up and he stares at you.

“I’m so glad you're here.”

“I am too. Now, back to my original question, are you gonna let me in?”

Eddie steps to the side. “Of course, come in sweetheart.”

You smile at him and make your way through the window, landing softly on your feet. Eddie lets out a gasp when you step into the light and he sees you clearly. He doesn't know why it always catches him off guard, you look the same from the last time he's seen you. Clothes torn, bruising around your neck from where one of the bats wrapped its tail around you, choking you out, blood drenched the sides of your clothes from where you were bitten. The only thing that was different about you was the fact that your eyes had a slight reddish color to them and your fangs seemed a bit sharper.

“I'm okay rockstar , I’ll heal up soon.” You reassured him. He smiled at the nickname you gave him since you found out he was in a band, it's almost as if everything was normal. Almost. Eddie pulls you into a hug, shivering a bit at how cold you felt.

“You’re freezing baby.” He mumbled out while rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

“I’m fine Eddie, I promise.”

Eddie steps back and looks at you. Every time you visit him he soaks in all your features, almost as if he's trying to erase the horrible memories that are on loop in his mind.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah? How much?” You tease.

“So much.”

“Show me how much.” You whisper.

Eddie nods his head and brings his lips to yours. Your lips are cold now, they never used to be cold but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind. You're here. You're alive and here. You pull away from his lips and pressed kisses against his neck.

“God Eddie,” you moan out. “You smell so good.”

A blush rises to his cheeks as he clears his throat. “Have you eaten?”

Your kisses are getting sloppy and you're starting to bite him a little here and there. You shake your head and start kissing along his jaw.

“Not since last time.”

Eddie feels a swarm of butterflies in his stomach at the mention of your last visit. “We can do it again…if you want.”

You pull away from him and smile softly at him.

“You'd do that for me?”

“I'd do anything for you.”

You place a kiss on his lips already knowing he would. Eddie has said time and time again how he's willing to do anything for you, that's the one thing that hasn't changed about him. His undying loyalty toward you. The kiss becomes passionate fast and Eddie’s knees hit the edge of his bed causing him to sit down. He pulls you into his lap and your lips start attacking his neck. Eddie takes a sharp breath when you lick right where his pulse is, you can hear his heart beating out of his chest and the thought of his blood filling your mouth is enough to make you whimper.

You move your hips back and forth trying to get even the smallest amount of friction, hoping it'll be enough to satisfy your other hunger.

“Y-you need to feed.” Eddie stutters out. You shift your hips a little differently, smiling against his neck when you get a small groan out of him.

“Not hungry for that anymore,” you lied to him. Eddie always tasted better just when he was about to finish. Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head when he feels your hand sneak into his pants and wrap around him. His grip around your hips tightens and you could practically drool when you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“You're so good to me Eddie,” you whisper to him. “Always so good, letting me feed from you, keeping our visits a secret.”

His hips buck up at the mention of the secret. He only mentions you, but he has yet to tell the group that you're still alive, just a little different.

“You like that don't you?” you tease. “like keeping me as your dirty little secret? Keeping me all to yourself.”

Eddie's close. He's so close, but he doesn't want this to end like the last visit. He needs you to be closer to him, he needs to feel you in a way he hasn't for a long time.

“S-stop, ah I-I want to fuck you.”

Your movements come to a halt and you pull back from his neck and look at him with an unreadable expression.

“Even if I look like this?” You ask in a quiet voice.

Eddie looks at your body and feels sick when he sees the blood on your shirt, he lifts it noticing the bites and bruises that once littered your body are now healed.

“I mean, I can do without the blood,” he said in a teasing tone. “but you're still beautiful to me.”

For the first time in months, you feel like your heart is beating and you swear you're even blushing.

“We don't have to.” Eddie rushed out. “I just, I really need you.”

You place both hands on his cheeks and take a good look at him. Tiny scars are dancing around his face from the battle that you and your friends lost. He's so warm and so fucking pretty, how the fuck am I supposed to do this? You think to yourself.

“Are you sure Eddie?”

Eddie nodded his head. “Just, don't kill me.” He nervously chuckles out.”

You giggle and shake your head. “I’d never kill you.”

Eddie Munson was most definitely the love of your life, that was something you could easily say.

You bring his lips to yours for another kiss that he finds himself lost in the minute your lips touch his. You were intoxicating, you're better than any alcohol he's ever drunk, better than any joint he's ever rolled. You were his little slice of paradise and he'll make sure nothing ever hurts you again, he’d kill someone with his bare hands if it meant you'd return to his arms every night.

Your lips find their way to his neck again, your nose buried deep into his pulse.

Eddie’s hands hover over the button of your pants, you can practically hear him begging you through his thoughts and it makes you giggle. You nod your head and let out a gasp when his fingers quickly unbutton your pants and slip into your underwear.

“H-holy shit,” he mutters against your lips. “You're fucking soaked. Was it like this last time?”

You nod your head and move your hips against his hand trying to get some friction.

“ ‘M always like this for you.”

Eddie swears that God could send the flood and he’d die a very happy man. Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

“Eddie, please do something.”

Eddie nods his head and starts moving his fingers at a steady pace but it's not enough. You need more. All of your senses were heightened and it was almost too much for you. Almost. You shake your head and push Eddie so that he's laying down on the bed, your lips are attached to his neck as you place kisses all over him.

“More, I need more Eddie.” you cry out. Eddie is at a loss for words, he's seen you like this before but never this hungry. He lets out a choked groan when he feels you pull down his pants and underwear in the blink of an eye. You pull down your pants and underwear and give him a few pumps before locking your eyes on him.

Eddie felt like a prey who had been seen by their number one predator, his heart was beating out of his chest and he was trying to catch his breath. Your red eyes were full of hunger. You were hungry for him, not just his blood but all of him. You smile at him, your pointy fangs on display and he swears he's never been so in love before.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Y/n for the love of God, please just get on top.”

You giggle and nod your head. Who were you to deny such a sweet guy like Eddie? Gasps left your mouths at the same time as you slowly started sinking down on him, you're so full but not in the way you want to be. Your mouth finds the familiar pulse on his neck and you whimper from how good he smells. You clench around him unknowingly and it makes him buck his hips up into you. You both start moving at a similar pace but it's not good enough for Eddie. His hands grip your hips and he's thrusting up into you at a fast pace. You're practically drooling at how good he smells and you gently scrape your fangs along his pulse, silently asking him if you can have just the tiniest bite of him.

Eddie grunts out that he's close and he gives you the green light for you to use him. You bite down on him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head the second his sweet blood greets your tastebuds, and Eddie groans at the feeling. You both finish together, minds foggy and bodies buzzing from the aftershocks. You pull away from Eddie with a small smile and lick the stray blood that escaped from the wound you gave him. Your eyes find him and you feel your heart swell at the sight before you.

Eddie’s eyes are fighting to stay open and he has a smile on his face as his hands find yours. He feels dizzy, and he's not sure if it's because of how much he loves you, or maybe it's because you drank from him more than you usually would.

“You still with me, rockstar?”

Eddie hums at the sound of your voice and nods his head. The moonlight is shining through the window and it makes you look ethereal. He swears you're an angel who's been sent down just for him.

“Am I in heaven?” he asks in a weak voice. You giggle and run a hand through his hair before placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Not exactly rockstar.” You grab his limp hand and check the small digital watch that rests on his wrist, pouting when you see the time.

“It seems like our time is up, Munson,” you say with a sad voice. You get off of Eddie's lap already feeling so empty without him. You put on your bottoms and sit at the edge of Eddie's bed.

“Can you lay with me a little longer?”

“Of course, I can.”

You find your place beside him, snuggling into him. You breathe in his scent and smile at the familiar smell, it almost feels like you didn't die a horrible death months ago. You're just in bed with Eddie soaking in the little time you have with him.

“Why can't you stay with me?”

“You know I can't Eddie. I have to leave when the morning comes.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and brings you closer to him. He doesn't want you to leave. He needs you to stay with him, he'll do anything if it means you'll stay with him.

“Yeah well, if I had it my way the fucking sun would be gone.”

You look up at him and smile.

“You’d do that for me?”

“I told you, I’d do anything for you.”

You sit up and rest a hand on his chest, tilting your head to the side a little.

“Would you kill for me?“

You knew it was a long shot, but you had to ask. You're being forced to ask.

“If I needed to.”

“Even if it was your friends?”

Silence is shared between you two, you're waiting for his answer and Eddie is actually thinking about it.

“If it means you'll stay.”

You smile and kiss him, everything is going to plan. Maybe now you can stay, maybe he'll be so happy with the work you've been doing that you can stop going back. You can stay. Stay with Eddie. You know it won't happen, you can still hear his voice in your head.

I can hurt them, but you can tear them apart from the inside.

“I'm just kidding Eds, I know you'd never do that.”

Eddie’s hand grabs yours tightly, he knows you're about to leave and he doesn't want you to.

“I'm serious, if it means you'll stay with I’ll kill them.”

You stand up from his bed and kiss his forehead. “I know you will.”

You walk toward the window ready to leave but before you do you turn to him.

“Your time is almost up Eddie.”

-

Eddie wakes up in a cold sweat and looks around his bedroom frantically. His eyes are searching for you but there isn't a single trace, he looks down and sees he's still wearing his clothes. Confused, he stands up but is quick to fall back onto his bed. He takes a minute to collect himself before he makes his way to the restroom on wobbly legs. Maybe his friends were right, maybe he needs to let you go. The dreams are getting too real, he swears you were actually in his room tonight.

He passes by the mirror but stops when he sees a flash of dark red on his hellfire shirt. He gets closer to the mirror and feels tears prick his eyes when he sees the bite mark on his neck. You were here, he wasn't dreaming. You actually showed up last night. Eddie feels like he could dance in the restroom from how happy he is, he knew you were real. He knew you came to visit him and it wasn't his imagination.

Eddie leaves the trailer with a smile on his face and the bite mark on his neck is on full display. Nothing can ruin the good mood he's in, not even Dustin being concerned over the injury on his neck. Things are finally going back to normal, and Eddie hasn't felt this happy in a long time.

It's too bad a killer headache came along and ruined it all.

taglist <3

@cityofidek @spideyjass @simpingoverfictionalppl

[scottie-writes]

Before He Cheats.

EddieXyou

Little one shot based on the song Before He Cheats.

Just imagine the song was released in '86🙈

Also may or may not have stolen a scene from another tv show 👀

Summary; You're late for one of Eddie's gigs at the hideout but things fall apart right before your eyes.

Warnings; Angst, heartbreak, cheating, public kissing, brief mentions of sex

8:17pm the alarm clock flashed red and if you didn't get a move on you were sure to miss the whole set. You'd promised Eddie you wouldn't be far behind him as he left in a huff without you to go meet his fellow Corroded Coffin band mates at the hideout, you told him you just needed to do your hair, which you both knew was a lie. You'd normally be ready by now and make your way over with Eddie but he had other plans, other plans being that he couldn't leave without making sure your legs were shaking and the contents of his balls were emptied inside you. After the tough couple of weeks you'd both had, you both needed that release. You'd not touched each other in weeks, which for Eddie, was unusual. His behavior had been all round strange, you'd barely seen each other and you felt un-wanted, but its not like you even bothered to make an effort with him, you didn't care, if anything you were glad. You'd been arguing a lot more and instead of going round to his after work you'd go straight home, you'd avoid his calls and go days without seeing him. You squeezed your thighs together and bit down on your still puffy bottom lip as you visualized what had happened moments before, shaking your head to rid the image you hopped out the shower, wrapping a towel around you, you made your way to the bedroom to start on your makeup straight away. You actually couldn't wait to see him, doing what he did best, making you proud. It had been a long time since you last saw him perform.

. . .

A smoky eye paired with a deep red lip was your finished look as your black hair fell to the middle of your back. A quick glance at the clock, 9:21pm "Fuck. Where the fuck is my purse" you muttered running round the trailer while trying to pull on a knee length, heeled boot. Hanging over the clothes rail you caught the glisten of the shiny black faux crocodile skin strap in the light, you tugged it off and threw it over your shoulder, rushing to make your way out the door to your car, not before spinning on your heel and hitting your hip, with a yelp of pain, on the kitchen counter to grab your car keys, uttering curse words and slamming the trailer door you jumped in your car. Shoving the key in the ignition you glanced in the mirror to check the path was clear, rolling your eyes you snatched out the roller you'd left in your bangs. You shifted the gear into reverse and then forwards and put your foot down speeding off with a screeching wheel spin, kicking up dust from the gravel under the tyres. Unbeknownst to you Eddie was trying to call you only to receive a dial tone, you'd accidently knocked the phone off the hook as you'd slammed the door behind you.

A slam of the receiver and Eddie turned to his band mates "Fuck it, she's not coming boys. I'm not waiting any longer." He picked up his guitar and went out on stage.

9:39pm. It was only 10 minutes to the hideout but you'd been stuck behind the slowest old lady going 25mph, you'd beeped, tried to over take and even driven right up her ass, but eventually gave up when she didn't take the hint. "He's gonna be so pissed with me" you sighed gripping the steering wheel, turning your knuckles white. "Ten fuckin' minutes i told him, 'oh i wont be far behind you babe'" you mimicked your own words in a silly voice.

10:02pm. Slamming the car door behind you, you hitched your purse onto your shoulder while calling the old lady every name under the sun. You heard no band playing as you got closer to the door, just the faint sounds of whatever was playing on the jukebox, your heart sank, you'd missed his set and man was he gonna be upset. They only play half an hour and you couldn't even manage to fucking make it. By this point you knew Eddie thought you just weren't gonna turn up, you knew him too well. Or so you thought.

As you slid in through the door, you made your way over to a dim lit corner and you took a seat. Looking towards the stage you could see Jeff struggling to take an amp through the back with a disgruntled look on his face. Where was Eddie? that's his amp. A loud crash made you jump and avert your gaze, now over to Gareth who was flailing his arms in the air, shooting angry glances ahead of him. Boy, if looks could kill. Part of his drum set scattered between the floor and the entry to out the back. He looked pissed. Your brow furrowed as you slowly moved your eyes across the room. A bleached -blonde girl was bent over the pool table, cue in hand while giggling and pushing her ass out. "Jesus, what a tramp" mid roll of your eyes you caught sight of the person behind her. Bent over her, face in the crook of her neck, very clearly pressing his crotch into her fucking ass, showing her how to shoot a combo. Your eyes slowly scanned him, from head to toe. Brown curls that fell to his shoulders, plump lips, a dirty smirk, a necklace with a plectrum attached. Tears pricked your eyes, a hand covered your open mouth, you didn't want to carry on looking but it was like a car crash, you couldn't turn away. A denim battle vest with the sleeves cut away, a motorhead patch, a w.a.s.p pin. You're eyes made their way to his face, What felt like barbed wire gripped your throat, you could see it, right there in his eyes. The lust. The same lust that you knew, come to think of it, that look of lust wasn't even there not 3 hours before when you were underneath him, moaning his name. "Eddieeee, you're a tease" loud giggles knocked you from your train of thought as you saw him, right there in front of you, their position had changed, although still pressed against a pool table, she was now facing him as he nibbled on her earlobe. Your heart ached at the sight. Never would you think Eddie would do something like this, never in a million years.

You'd snuck round to the side of the bar out of their view, sat on a barstool, you'd thrown back almost three quarters of a bottle of Whiskey and the anger built up inside. You watched them as the night went on, every little thing they did, how he bought her drink after drink, obviously something with a low percentage and fruity as she cant handle shooting whiskey, she'd previously sang some white trash version of something on the karaoke. "I'm s-sooo drunk Eddie" she giggled, hiccupping, rubbing her hands over his chest and down to his waist, up and down his torso, the same torso that was not long sweating on top of you earlier that night. "I know sweetheart" a shit eating grin across his face as his hands explore her ass and his lips crashed down onto hers. Sweetheart? No. Please, he didn't just fucking say your pet name to that girl right before he kissed her. Your fists bunched up at the side of you as the tears fell thick and fast down your cheeks, you stood up knocking the stool over and you held onto the bar for support. Stumbling outside you rummaged in your purse and grabbed your keys, making way over to your car you caught a glance of his van, the left corner of your mouth turned up into a smirk as you ran towards his van.

The screeching noise from the keys dragging deeply over the sides of his van were unbearable, it was a clapped out banger anyway, this only made it look better. You knew he always left it unlocked when at the hideout so they could either pack up quickly or so he could come to his van to smoke a quick j. You threw the doors open and picked up what you knew he kept in there. “It’s just for emergencies baby, just in case a deal goes wrong or, or we need back up” his words echoed in your mind. Two smashes later and you’d completely busted his headlights. “Hm this baseball bat DID come in handy” you laughed to yourself as you took a big swing to his drivers side window, climbing inside you took a pocket knife hidden inside his glovebox “y/n” you carved into each of his seats, laughing manically while the tears still fell fast, cheeks stained with mascara. You sat for a moment, a wave of guilt washing over you. Fuck. All you wanted most was his arms around you , telling you everything was okay, that he loved his sweetheart so much. Faint laughter soon stopped that thought and through the wing mirror you saw them, making their way over to his van, his arms draped over her as he followed behind still nuzzling her neck. You swiftly kicked the dented door open with some force and jumped down, leaning against the door you waited.

"Eddie, baby. When are you gonna tell her? You said you would and that was weeks ago" her whiney voice made your hairs stand up on end, there's that barbed wire feeling around your throat again, your eyes narrowed and before you knew it, you'd made your way around the van, four hissing tyres quickly releasing the air that was once held in them. "Hey!! what the fuck you doing? hey!! you!!" The hissing sound drew Eddies attention quickly as he started jogging over. "I'm fucking talking to you asshole, that's my fuc-." Eddies eyes widened as he recognized your face as you slowly rose up from beside the tyre. His whole demeanor changed from flirty, happy Eddie to kicked puppy Eddie.

"Y/n.. sweetheart, wh-what are you doing? You know that's my van right baby?" as Eddie took a step towards you, you moved back. "Edsss, what is going on, baby i wanna go HOME" the shrillness of her voice was intolerable. "Yeah, 'Eds'. What IS going on.." you folded your arms across your chest stepping out into the light. "Eds, who is this? Tell her to beat it" she shrilled, with a roll of your eyes and a scoff leaving your mouth, you moved a few steps forward, standing in front of her, you could see her bright pink lipstick faded, her hair clearly not a natural blonde and her blue eyeshadow was smeared. "Oh, me? Who am i? No honey, that's not the question you wanna be asking" I was his girlfriend. As you circled her, eyeing her up and down, Eddie watched closely, eyes wide. "The question you should be asking is, why have i wasted my entire night watching a cheap two bit whore and someone who was my boyfriend all over each other the entire night, playing fucking tonsil tennis?" you glared at Eddie with narrow eyes as he looked down at the floor. Coward. A cackling laugh brought you from your stare "Listen i don't know what imaginary world you live in darlin', but me and Eds have been together for a few weeks now" she finished with a toss of her hair and a stupid smirk. Everything was slowly coming together, it was her. She was the reason for his behavior. Your heart felt like it'd been taken out and stamped on. "...So if you don't mind, honey. Me and Eds are going home" your hand gripped the pocketknife still within your grip, knuckles turning white at the pressure. The most deranged laugh pulled itself from within your throat "A few weeks? Try 6 fuckin' years SWEETHEART." Your hand which held the pocketknife slowly lifted itself up to her face like it had mind of it's own, the girl stepped backward but you followed forward. "Edsss g-get this psycho away from meeee" the shrieks echoed the Hideouts parking lot and with a lunge forward, still holding up the pocketknife you shouted "BOO!" you couldn't hold the laughter in as she ran away screaming. You threw the knife through the smashed window as you just stood there, "Look Y/n.. I- I wanted to tell you, i thought i should, I really was going to, and then Steve convinced me not too" you just blinked at him, in shock most of all. That fucking asshole Steve, you wanted to kill him. "Do you realise none of this would've happened if over these past few weeks i didn't think that you didn't wanna be with me?"

"Alright, lets say i met someone else and, and you found out in a bar where you were running late and you got there to find me practically fucking on a pool table and THEN Eddie, you find out I've been fucking him for weeks, no. actually. not just fucking but we're together, in love with each other, fucking every day and every night, holding each other i-in bed, cuddling, would you be able to forgive me?" a choked sob escaped your lips as you imagined Eddie doing all that with her.

"Yes. I would"

"You'd have been okay with me being with another man? Kissing him, been naked with him, made love to him?"

"Yes"

"If you knew our hot, sweaty, tangled bodies..."

"LA LA LA LAAAA" Eddie cut you off by covering his ears and shouting, "Okay! Okay!! yeah, i would have been devastated but, i- i would still want to be with you, because i mean, its you. Its always been you, since kindergarten, always you"

You had found yourself sitting on the floor, back leaning on his dented van, it had been silent for over fifteen minutes now, you had no words after what he said, nothing. He sat perched on his drivers seat facing outwards and looking down at you the whole time, your head tucked down into your knees and your arms cradling around them.

"What, you're not even talking to me now?" Eddie jumped down and sat cross legged beside you, facing you, "I-I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry. I was out of my mind, I thought I'd lost you. I didn't know what to do. C'mon! C'mon, how insane must i have been to do something like this? huh? I-I don't cheat right? I-, that's not me, I'm not Steve. Y'know, Y'know what? I'm- I'm not the one who pushed me away, okay? You're the one who bailed on us, you're the one who ran when things got a little tough."

"That's fucking bullshit and you know it Eddie, That's absolute straight bullSHIT"

"Okay, well here we are. Now we're in a tough spot again y/n. What do you wanna do? How do you wanna handle it? Huh? Do you wanna fight for us? Or-Or, Do you wanna bail? Look, I.." Eddies eyes filled with tears "..I did a terrible, stupid, stupid thing. Okay? And I'm sorry, i wish i could take it back but i cant, i just cant see us throwing away something we know is so damn good. Y/n, i love you so much." Eddie leans forward and kisses your shoulder, moving up to kiss the side of your face and finally pressing his lips to yours.

"No Eddie!!" you stand up, moving away from him. "Don't! You cant just kiss me and think you're gonna make it all go away, okay? It doesn't work like that. It doesn't just make it better. Okay?" you sigh "I think i should go" your voice soft and small. Eddie stands and moves in front of you.

"Look, look. There's got to be a way we can work past this? okay?" Eddie takes hold of your arm gently, "I cant imagine my life without you.." The both of you start to cry, looking deep into each others eyes "..Without- Without these arms, and your face, and this heart. Your good heart Y/n." Suddenly Eddie drops to his knees and hugs you tightly around your waist. "..And.. And.." He sniffles.

"No, I cant. you're a totally different person to me now. I used to think of you as somebody that would never, ever hurt me, ever. God. and now i just cant stop picturing you with her. I cant." Eddie slowly stands up backing away "..It doesn't matter what you say or what you do Eddie, its just changed everything, forever." Tears are falling thick and fast down both your cheeks.

Eddie shakes his head, placing his hand on your cheek "Yeah, but this cant be it?" His voice cracks and hurt pangs through your chest.

"Then how come it is?"

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likes/rb/comments are appreciated 💜

[scottie-writes]

This series is one of my favourites right now!! Truly amazing

hawkins' sweetheart - ch four

Eddie Munson x virgin!fem!Reader (Semi-NSFW)

Synopsis: You follow through on your homework.

Warnings: nsfw, angst, and fluffy content; corruption & innocence kink, porn (detailed description), dirty talk, reader is still super sexually repressed, experimentally trying to masturbate, sneaking eddie in, Eddie shows you how to touch yourself and gives you your first orgasm

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Sneaking Eddie in will never not make me weak

Porn. You had porn in your bag. You swallowed back the bubbling anxiety nestling in your stomach the more you thought about it. You’d follow through on your homework…eventually. You had a due date of Monday, so you pushed it off day after day. Stared at it every night, knowing it was hidden in the bottom of your bag. You weren’t about to leave it at home where your mother could accidentally discover it. 

That was a definite no-go. 

“Did it make you feel weird?” You asked Hailey as the two of you grabbed coffee and pastries. Lillian and Rose had a test they needed to study for, and Jodie had said she couldn’t make the outing. So it was just you and Hailey. “The, uh, kissing.”

“Yeah, but I mean. Weird like I liked it. Wanted to keep doing it. Which was super weird because I didn’t think I’d enjoy kissing.” She shrugged, sitting back on the bench. “Thought it was gross until I met Robert.” 

“But that weird feeling…was good?” 

“Oh, yeah. Totally normal.” Hailey nodded. “Kissing someone you want to kiss will make you feel a good kind of weird.” 

“Did you ever…do anything more than that?” 

“No.” Hailey looked down at her ring. “I felt so guilty about kissing Robert that I couldn’t bring myself to do anything else. I mean, I’ll be honest, we tried, but—”

“You tried?” You sat up and looked at her. And it took a second for Hailey to register the lack of judgment and pure curiosity it held instead. 

“Yeah, I mean. Okay. Don’t tell anyone this, especially Jodie, she’d personally murder me.” Hailey opened and closed her hands. “We did some…over the clothes stuff. And it was really fun. Like really fun, (Y/N). But I promised my parents, you know? It’s a little different now that I’m not like sixteen anymore, but still. They’re helping me pay for classes, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful.” 

“Won’t tell a soul.” You zipped your lips and smiled. You were in the exact same situation except that guilt was slowly getting swallowed by Eddie. “Promise.”

You considered telling her about Eddie, but Eddie was still…Eddie. It was one thing to say you’d found a guy with the sweetest reputation and started courting like some romantic historical movie. If you tried to explain that you’d asked Eddie to show you everything you’d been missing out on for your own selfish (horny) reasons, Hailey would probably go into lecture mode. 

She inquired why you were asking, but you brushed it off with a shrug and said just needed some advice, is all. She accepted it for what it was and didn’t push it. 

You stared at the tape. It was Sunday night, your parents had gone to sleep, and the tape sat mockingly in front of your tv. You kneeled at the end of your bed and pushed the tape slowly into the VCR, watching your small personal television change color and a clear bedroom set popped up. You made sure your volume was turned all the way down before turning it up to its lowest setting. 

A woman was lying on the bed very, very naked. Her legs were spread as she reached between them. A plea left her lips as her back arched and a guy sauntered on screen. Your cheeks were so hot you thought you’d gotten a sudden fever as your eyes fell over the naked guy. He kneeled before the woman and went where her hand was. There was a clear view as his fingers rubbed her and she started moaning loud, squirming under his touch. He stayed like that, fingers rubbing in the same spot as wetness glistened on her. He even laughed before his other hand came up and he pressed two fingers into her. 

Into.

You pressed your thighs together so hard until they started to shake. Her moans were incredibly pornographic—more than you’d expected—and you swallowed. Your mouth was so dry as you watched. He kept moving his fingers, over and over, until the woman was writhing and screaming. He cooed something you couldn’t hear and suddenly her back was arching and her body was tensing and shaking. 

He spanked where his fingers had just been after she relaxed and he pulled his fingers out. Grinned as she jumped at the contact. Then he was lining up between her legs and your eyes went even wider when you saw his erection. Big and thick, and she looked like she took it without any struggle. He held her legs up and open as he started to thrust into her, making her whole body jostle from the movement. She was back to moaning and screaming. He didn’t stop until she repeated the same thing as earlier, and only then did he finally…stop. 

He pulled out of her and closed a fist around his erection, pumping until he covered her stomach in white spurts. 

You yelped at the sight. Not loud enough for anyone to hear, but you still shut your tv off, ejected and hid the tape, and climbed in bed. You hid underneath your covers, restless and squirming as you tried to get comfortable. There was a wetness between your legs that you weren’t used to and you pressed your face into your pillow. You came embarrassingly close to calling Eddie, asking what you were supposed to do. You had some idea based on the video. But that was also a video. They were actors. And you couldn’t bring yourself to touch yourself if it was going to be the wrong way. You weren’t sure you’d survive that embarrassment. 

You were already spiraling because you didn’t know how. And lying there as your underwear got wetter and wetter as you imagined doing that with Eddie only made it all worse. 

You were quiet during classes, earning a weird look from Hailey when you grabbed coffee in between. You were in more of a listening mode during your session with Spencer. He had no complaints as you listened to him rant about classes and only interrupted to correct homework answers. 

The tape was heavy at the bottom of your bag, and you had no idea how you were supposed to survive your session with Eddie. Not when you shifted on the picnic table, and you could feel that same wetness as before. Unlike the last few sessions, though, this one was impossible to ignore. So as soon as he came up to the table, you were handing him the tape back. 

“Did you watch it?” He took it and dropped it into his bag. He looked like he was trying to fight off a smile as he swapped it for his notebook. 

“Mhm. Few minutes of it.” You couldn’t make eye contact. 

“Did you…like it?” Eddie sat down beside you. 

“I…” You opened and closed your hands. “We should focus on that paper you said you need to write.”

“(Y/N),” Eddie whispered as he straddled the bench and scooted closer. He leaned onto the table, head in his hand, and turned you to face him. You looked everywhere but his face and he wasn’t having any of that. He leaned in until your eyes locked and you felt your whole body flush with restlessness. “It’s okay to enjoy it.”

“I…didn’t hate it.”

“Did it make you feel that same weird feeling as before?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, voice strained. “But…”

“Hm?” His hand was still on your chin, and you hoped nobody else was outside to see you. Granted, Eddie could probably play it off like he was just messing with you, but it would still look bad. 

“I didn’t…I don’t know how…” You looked away and clenched your jaw. You just had to rip the bandaid off. “I don’t know how to make myself not feel that way.”

You shook your head and dropped it into your hands. A soft groan left you. 

“No, I mean.” You wanted to get up and run around the field. Something—anything—to get rid of the extra energy. To transfer the nerves elsewhere. “I don’t know how to, uh, satiate that feeling.”

“(Y/N),” Eddie said nice and slow. There was an edge to his voice that made you look at him. He looked like you’d just slapped him across the face with as much force as you could muster. “You’ve never…uh…for lack of better phrasing, satiated yourself before?” 

“No,” you squeaked, and Eddie’s hands balled into fists. 

“And you don’t know how?” 

You shook your head and bit your lip. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He ran a hand over his face and shuddered. “Shit. (Y/N).”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. No.” He laughed. “Do not be sorry. Just…wasn’t expecting that.” 

There was a long pause before Eddie spoke again. Your whole body was wound tight as you waited, the wetness back even worse than before as Eddie looked at you. All you could see was the video as he tapped his fingers on the tabletop. 

“Do you want me to…explain it to you?” 

Yes. 

You bit your lip again. It’d been what you wanted from him in the first place—to learn. But you weren’t sure you’d survive Eddie telling you about it. You were fairly certain that if he started describing it to you there, you’d melt on the spot. Or maybe combust. Either way, you wouldn’t survive, and the last thing you wanted was to feel even needier than you were while you were out in public. Where the most you could do was press your legs together and try to alleviate the pressure. 

“If you’re comfortable with that,” you finally said. “But not…uh…but not here.” 

Eddie nodded, and his eyes were feral as he studied you. You hadn’t felt this shy in ages, and you knew Eddie could tell. It read on his face as he danced his gaze over your whole body. 

“Tell you what. We’ll try for a two-for-one.” He scribbled down an address and a time on a corner of his paper. “Sneak out to The Hideout tomorrow, watch us play, then I’ll explain whatever you want to know.”

“You want me to sneak out?” 

“Mhm. And if you want, I’m on good terms with the bartender there, I can get you a beer. It might, uh, settle any jostled nerves. Make it easier to talk about…stuff.” He shrugged and passed you the corner of the paper. “Plus, then you’d really get to see me play. The bit in the music shop was nothing compared to what I can do with Corroded Coffin.”

Your leg bounced as you took the corner. Sneaking out was something on your to-do list since you’d started your trying new things journey. But it wasn’t at the top of your list because the last thing you wanted was to lose your parents’ trust. 

Crap. 

It was too enticing to pass up. 

“Think about it. Gimme an answer after we, uh, finish here.” He motioned down at a list of guidelines for his paper. “I know you’re all work first.” 

You tucked the ripped paper into your notebook and scooted towards Eddie, nudging him playfully as you read over what he needed to do. You rested a hand on his thigh as you read and Eddie had no qualms about the contact. 

You outlined the paper together. It was nothing compared to some you had to write in your other classes, but it was still pretty weighty for a high school paper. You could see the stress on Eddie’s face as you talked through it with him, but he just nodded. Muttered about needing a damn joint after just to relax enough to start writing. It was a significant portion of his grade, but you reassured him you weren’t going to let him fail. Not again. He could get as low as a sixty-five, and he’d still have a lot of room before he was failing. 

“You really know how to make a guy feel better,” he murmured, lighting a cigarette. “Have I said thank you for your help yet? Cause thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Eddie.” You squeezed his thigh before sitting back. You’d stayed longer than intended, but you still didn’t want to leave. You watched as he packed up slowly, cigarette in his mouth, smoke puffing out with every breath. “I’ll go.” 

His pencil slipped out of his hand as he turned to face you. 

“Tomorrow. I’ll go. Don’t know about trying the beer yet, but…I’ll go. I’ll be there.”

“You will?” He sat up straighter and excitement beamed behind his eyes. “Really? You’ll sneak out to watch me play?”

“Yeah.” Your hands shook with the same excitement he felt. “I will.”

He kissed you. It was behind a tree that he’d whipped you towards. A little good job gift for watching the video and agreeing to sneak out. He said he was going to show you more—tilting your head back as his tongue swiped yours again. He kissed you until your knees were weak, and only when they started to shake did he move aside and press his mouth to your neck. These are also fun. His breath was warm against your neck as his teeth nipped at the skin. Just hard enough to sting and then his tongue drew over the indentations, his mouth following.

But he only gave you a few seconds of it, pulling back as a car came into the school lot. 

“It feels kind of mean,” he whispered as you followed him back to your car. 

“W-What does?” You were still breathless from the kiss. 

“Leaving you like this when I know you don’t know how to fix it.” 

Your whole body lit up as Eddie threw a smirk your way. 

“Promise, I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” He gave your back a light tap. “I’ll see you then, (Y/N).”

“Mhm, see you.” 

You were vibrating. During the drive home, during dinner, during the night. You gave yourself one experimental touch to try and satiate the feeling that Eddie had definitely left you feeling. All you did was put your hand between your legs and kind of cupped yourself. The heel of your palm pressed against you in a way that made you close your eyes and sigh. When you moved it slightly, it got better, got worse, and got better again. And you were wet. Really wet. 

That was all you could muster before you got too embarrassed to continue. 

You went through the rest of Tuesday antsy, excited, and scared out of your mind. Your tutoring passed too slowly, and so did dinner with your parents. Your leg was bouncing the whole time and when they asked if something was wrong, you shook your head. You were just stressed about classes. You knew they didn’t believe you, but what else were you supposed to say? So you just smiled, forced your leg to stop bouncing, and finished dinner.

You couldn’t leave through your window. It didn’t have a screen, but it also screamed like a banshee whenever you opened it. And it was too hot at night to claim you were going to crack it for the weather, so you had to go out the front door. It was late enough that your parents would be in bed, and you’d parked outside the garage to prevent waking them when opening it. 

But as you snuck out of your room and picked up the car keys, the living room light flicked on and your father crossed his arms over his chest. The excitement that welled in your chest immediately plummeted. You felt tears as he asked what the hell was going on? 

You lied. If you said you were going to see Eddie play in his band, your father would confine you to the house and probably tell you to stop tutoring him. But you’d been so caught off guard, you couldn’t even come up with a lie that’d still let you leave. You’d said you and Hailey were going out to a late showing of a movie. That you hadn’t asked because it was a school night, and before you could try and apologize, your father launched into lecture more. 

Spent thirty minutes reminding you of the dangers of sneaking out especially so late in the night. He sent you to bed with tears in your eyes and a guilt that weighed your hand down. 

Crap. 

If Eddie had been half as excited as you’d been, he was going to be upset. You tried to call him a few hours later to apologize, sneaking out to use the phone in the kitchen. But there’d been no answer. And since you had to be up early for classes, you couldn’t try again. Even though you wanted to. 

At least you’d finally gotten a break from being so wired. Although you weren’t that fond of crying into your pillow. 

You actually sort of worried about your session with him the next day. You already got him an apology soda and candy bar. It was the best you could do between finishing classes and rushing to the school. Spencer wasn’t making anything better. He was driving home how his grades weren’t getting any better, and you were failing as a tutor. Even his mother said she was second-guessing her decision to use you. 

You gave them an apologetic nod and walked towards the picnic table you and Eddie always sat at. He was already there, sitting across from where you typically sat, scribbling into his notebook. His expression was hard as he glanced up and you sat the soda and candy bar down. He looked at it with a cocked brow as you pushed them in front of him. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“‘Is fine.” He nodded and looked back down at his notebook. “Kinda expected it. It was a lot to ask.”

“I got caught.” 

Eddie looked up and sat his pencil down. 

“Shit.” He played with his rings. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was freaked at first.” You ran your thumb over your palm and looked down at the notes Eddie had been writing. “Got a big lecture. But I told him I’d been going out with a friend, so. He didn’t know I was going to meet you.”

“I, uh, I’m sorry.” Eddie breathed a slow breath. “You know, uh, maybe it’s not such a good idea that we’re…doing this. I mean, I don’t want to put you in a weird spot.”

Your heart stopped, and there was a lump in your throat. 

“I mean, I still need tutoring. But, uh, maybe we should just go back to the guitar lessons.” 

“No,” you said quickly, and Eddie cocked a brow. “Sorry. If you want to stop, then obviously yes. Guitar lessons it is. But if you’re just saying it for my well-being, then no. I don’t want to.” 

“You sure? Not sure how much else I can really help you with when we just see each other like this, baby.” He waved around the open space. “Sorta limits us—me. Limits my ability to, uh, teach you.”

 You tilted your head to the side as a surge of confidence hit you. Just cause you couldn’t sneak out didn’t mean you couldn’t sneak Eddie in. You just needed the right circumstances. And you really wanted to make it up to him, and for some reason, this felt like something he’d like.

“What if…I snuck you in?” Your heart was hammering at just the thought. If you got caught in your room with Eddie, Eddie would probably be the one who ended up dead. “My window’s out back behind my house, and as long as I get it open early in the night, parents won’t think anything of it. Just gotta be a little quiet.” 

“You…want to sneak me in?” Eddie studied you carefully. “Like, into your room?”

“Yeah. If you want.” You shrugged. “You could show—or uh, tell me, you know, how to…we’d be alone. No wandering eyes. That’s what I’m getting at.”

Eddie reached down and cracked open the soda, nodding after he took a sip. 

“Just give me the date, time, and address, and I’ll be there.” 

Your whole body lit up like a Christmas tree, and you tried not to show your excitement. Or the completely body-shaking nerves. You nodded, reaching down and grabbing your notebook. You’d have to check the weather that night, but you’d call him with the information. 

He answered on the first ring. 

It was Friday night after his Hellfire club got out. He said he’d try to be there on time, but sometimes it ran late. You had a game plan. Unless it was storming or exceptionally hot, Eddie would park up the street, sneak around to the back of your house, and find your open window by the rose bush. You’d turn a movie or some music on, and then he could come in. He just had to be careful that he didn’t knock anything over on his way in. You did have some shoes, books, and plants stacked nearby. If he hit those, it’d be loud enough to cause a ruckus.  

He could hide under your bed in a pinch, but you were trying to avoid that risk. So you had to be careful. 

Before you hung up, he asked again if you were sure. 

“We get caught, you’re in for hell. I do not want to put that on you, baby.”

“I’m sure.” You shifted from foot to foot. “I want to.”

“Then I’ll see you Friday.” 

“See you Friday, Munson.”

You forced yourself to do schoolwork. So much schoolwork. You even worked ahead and did extra chores around the house. The latter was partially to distract and partially to make up for getting caught sneaking out. Your father was still mad, but your mother was a tad more understanding. She confessed, when your father wasn’t around, that she’d snuck out a few times as a teen, but she always left a note. Just in case, she said. She’d put it on her pillow because what if something happened to her? Then at least her parents would know some of the details. 

“But please, dear,” she said. “Don’t do it again. Just ask us.” 

You nodded before going back to cleaning your bedroom. It hadn’t hit you until the day of that Eddie was going to be in your bedroom. He was going to be in your room, probably on your bed, and had free access to everything in sight that you had in there. Including some of the embarrassing pictures of you and Hailey from elementary school. 

You would’ve changed your frilly pink comforter out if it wouldn’t cause suspicion. But you were able to get away with throwing a quilt over it. Especially since there was a chill in the air and you were able to use the open window as an excuse to have an extra blanket. And luckily, as the temperature continued to drop as you helped your mother set the table for dinner, a handful of other windows were open around the house. 

You tried to act nonchalant through dinner. Parents asked if you had plans with your group on Saturday and you nodded—lunch date with the whole group except Jodie. Sunday was dedicated to studying and a volunteering activity you had with the neighbors at their church. Your father was still on the David path, but it was only for a few hours. Nothing you couldn’t handle. 

Besides, as you thought about Eddie coming over, you would’ve nodded to anything. 

You were sitting on your bed a few hours later, feet kicked up and staring at your open window. A movie was playing on your television, and you weren’t even trying to pretend to watch. 

It’d hit you shortly after dinner how upset Eddie must’ve been. Your excitement for him to show up was only growing and as it got closer to the expected time—give or take thirty minutes just in case—the more you realized it’d hurt if he didn’t show up. And he’d been so excited when you said you’d go watch him play. Granted, he was probably looking forward to showing off his guitar skills, his band, and then loving the way you got embarrassed over every little dirty thing he said. You’d learned well enough already how much he liked making you squirm. 

But that didn’t take away from how upset he must’ve been about it. He looked it on Wednesday, but as soon as you’d started working on his paper, he refused to circle back to the subject, 

He deserved more than an apology soda and candy bar, but you weren’t sure what else you could offer him. Maybe some sheet music? You could always track back to the music shop and ask the clerk about him. 

A branch snapped outside your window, and you sat up straight. When you rolled off your bed, dressed in the cutest pajamas you could find, you flattened out the short pink shorts and matching top. You were a step towards your window when Eddie popped up, a wide grin on his face as his eyes locked on yours. 

“Hey there, perfect girl,” he whispered. His hair was pulled back into a small bun. “Waiting for someone?”

“Get in here,” you muttered, helping him inside as quietly as you both could muster. Your heart was close to bursting from your chest as he moved. 

His hands went to your waist as he righted himself, but as soon as he looked around your room, that’s where his attention went. He took in every overly girly detail your parents had stuck you with regarding the decor. And Eddie looked like he was trying not to burst out laughing as he stole a peek at your frilly comforter under your quilt. Or the picture of you and Hailey as kids with your front teeth missing. Or the shelf of stuffed animals near your bed. 

He was smirking as he turned and leaned against the wireframe of your bed. His head lolled to the side, and he looked at your television. You knew the dots he was connecting when his eyes fell to the VCR before they turned back to you, and you felt your cheeks heat as you took a few slow steps toward your bed. You sat down on the edge and twiddled your thumbs, holding your breath as Eddie moved and sat beside you. 

“Nice shirt,” you murmured, looking at the Hellfire Club shirt he wore. “How was the club?”

“Spectacular. Exciting. Lots of death and gore.” He glanced over your pajamas. “I’ll spare you from having to listen to such horrid talk. Seems like a crime while you’re in such adorable pjs.”

“They’re not adorable!” 

“(Y/N),” he said as he slipped his fingers under the bottom of the shirt and lifted. It exposed a bit of your stomach, and the cold air made goosebumps appear. “There are daisies and cats on it.” 

You shoved him and he let himself fall, taking you down with him. Your breath hitched as you fell onto his chest and his hands went to your hips. He kicked his shoes off and pulled his legs up beneath you, letting them tangle together on top of the blanket. 

“Do you still want me to tell you about…it?” 

You bit your lip, eyes on Eddie’s mouth. 

“Yeah. Please.” 

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So when you feel all needy, it’s right here, right?”

Eddie’s knee shifted and it pressed just barely between your legs. Your teeth tug even harder into your lip as Eddie watched you carefully. You nodded. 

“How much you know about your own anatomy?” He pressed his knee a little hard, and you swallowed a gasp. “Genuine question, baby.”

“Aced anatomy first semester of college. I know what I need to know.” 

“So you know what the clit is?”

You buried your face into Eddie’s shoulder, and a hand snuck up over your back. He nuzzled the side of your head as a small chuckle snuck out. A patch of exposed skin at the base of your back let the chill sneak up your shirt, and you swallowed hard before nodding. 

“You find that. Touch it. It’s a lot of nerves so you gotta be gentle.” His hand ran over your back as he talked, knee still between your legs. “It can take a bit to find out what you like, so you gotta experiment.” 

Your legs closed around Eddie’s and his next breath was shallow. 

“When you do find what you like—shit—hone in on that. It’ll feel even better as you keep goin. And you wanna keep going till you feel like you’re gonna snap. Cause you will. And fuck will it feel good. All that waiting, all that teasing—you’ll cum nice and hard, baby.”

Your body shook as you exhaled. Even with the chill, you felt close to flames. Especially with Eddie beneath you acting like a furnace. 

“Start with that, then you’ll figure out the rest from there.”

You couldn’t lift your head. Looking at Eddie after that would be way too difficult. Particularly because his knee was giving you just enough pressure to bring that wetness back. Or maybe it was how he was whispering the instructions in your ear. Probably both, but you couldn’t move. You could barely breathe. 

You’d been too scared to even touch yourself the first time—and he expected you to just paw around between your legs until you figured out what you liked? 

“You okay there, (Y/N)?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded again, and Eddie laughed gently. 

“Got any questions?” 

“Could…” You bit down on your cheeks and Eddie tapped your back to get you to continue. “Could you show me?”

He stopped breathing for a second, and you swore through all the layers of clothing you felt his heart beat faster. 

“You really want me to?” 

“I…uh. I tried to do it the other night, but I’m not…I don’t know what I’m doing.” You grabbed fistfuls of Eddie’s jacket. “I want you to if you’re willing to show me.”

Eddie swallowed, and the only sounds filling your room came from your television. It was a painfully long pause, and you contemplated taking it back to prevent making him uncomfortable. But Eddie finally spoke. 

“Yeah, but,” he murmured, slowly guiding you onto your back. His pupils were blown wide as he laid on his side and peered down at you. His hand on your back went down to your thigh and he guided your legs open. “Just gonna show you over your clothes.” 

You couldn’t fault his thinking. Anything more might complicate things beyond what they were. And you elected to ignore how this was going to complicate things. And as humiliation flooded you, you nodded, and Eddie came down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Alright if I touch you?” His fingers came up and played with the string on your shorts. You watched them as you held your breath and nodded. That antsy feeling was getting worse the longer Eddie kept his fingers there. “So, you find where it feels good.”

His fingers shifted down and traced the seam of your shorts. It was such a light touch that your hips bucked up subconsciously. Eddie grinned as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and then he was following your gaze down. 

He added a little more pressure, the tips of his fingers running lines between your legs. 

“Wow, (Y/N),” he murmured, and his hair tickled your cheek. “Soaked yourself through your shorts, didn’t you?”

You brought your hands to your face as Eddie cupped you, making you feel exactly how wet you were there. 

“Hey.” He tugged your hands down. “Need you to watch, otherwise you can’t learn.” 

You bit your lip as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. It pushed out in a gasp as his hand went back and his fingers ran along the seam again. He was watching your face as his fingers came up a bit and when they grazed a spot that made your back bow, he grinned and focused his attention there. 

“Is not a bad thing, you know.” His bangs stuck to your cheek as heat washed over you, his fingers making the antsy feeling spin between your legs. “Being wet. That, baby, is a very good thing.” 

His name stuttered out of you, head pushing back against your pillows. His fingers were going slow, and you could feel the effects between your legs. Could feel yourself getting wetter as your body tensed and twisted inside you. 

“This feel good?” He added a little more pressure, and you had to turn your head into the crook of his neck. Eddie Munson was in your room touching you. Eddie Munson was in your room, touching you, making you feel exceptional. A moan pushed out of you as your thighs started to shake. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“F-Feelin weird, Eddie.” You bit down on his neck as you were hit with a wave of something that felt phenomenal. “D-Don’t stop.”

Eddie’s body vibrated and you felt him swallow. His laugh was a little broken as he moved his fingers faster.

“You, uh, you feel that squeezin’ feelin?” Eddie dropped his fingers down for a brief second and pressed exactly where you were dripping from. “Right in there?”

You nodded, huffing as his fingers went back for your clit. 

“Is cause…” He paused for a second as you grabbed onto his jacket holding him close as you got closer and closer to what he’d described earlier—snapping. “Is cause that pussy wants somethin’ to squeeze.”

You bit him again, pressing your forehead against his neck. A whine slipped out this time, and Eddie shushed you. 

“Remember that video I had you watch?” 

“Mhm.”

“Wants somethin’ like that. There’s a spot inside yah too that’ll make you feel good. Can use your fingers or, uh, somethin’ else.” Eddie’s fingers picked up the pace and you were fully hugging him. You were so close to snapping that you tried to whisper his name as a warning, but it came out as broken gasps. “That pretty pussy wants to be stuffed, baby. And I think you want that too.”

You snapped. Eddie had to hug you and bury your face into his neck as you did, stifling your moan as your hips pressed up towards his fingers. His fingers kept rubbing as what felt like lightning ripped through you in the best possible ways. A few tears pricked your eyes as you nuzzled his neck, body shaking, back arching. 

It felt…freaking incredible. And you wanted more. 

It left your whole body trembling as his fingers slowed and he cupped you gently. You jumped as his palm pressed against your clit, but you stayed panting in the crook of his neck. Stayed with an arm wrapped around your back, breathing in the mint aftershave and faint cigarette smoke that clung to his jacket. Stayed as your mind spun and body relaxed. 

“How was your first orgasm?” Eddie’s words were no louder than a whisper, but you felt them wash over your entire body. 

“Amazing,” you slurred against him, and he chuckled. 

“You don’t gotta do it over the clothes like I did or anything.” His other hand cupped the back of your head. “Feels even better without ‘em.”

“E-Eddie.” 

“Yes, (Y/N)?” 

“That felt really good.” 

“Experiment with what you like.” He lifted his hand from between your legs and pushed your hips back. It pushed you enough away from him that you had to make eye contact. You wanted to shrink into yourself as he looked at you with the soft smile he had tugging at his lips. “Might find somethin’ that feels even better.”

“Better than that?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie laughed, his eyes crinkling as he moved some hair out of his face. “Better than that.”

“O-Okay.” You rolled onto your stomach and felt your shirt and shorts ride up as you sighed into your pillow. “I don’t know what to try but I’ll, um, experiment.”

“Make sure you clean yourself up too. Drink water, use the bathroom.” Eddie’s fingers trailed over your bare back, and your breath hitched, the antsy feeling already returning between your legs. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna go then, pretty girl. Get—”

“Wait.” You pushed up and grabbed his shirt. He hadn’t even started to move yet, but he stilled. You didn’t want him to go yet. “Hellfire. T-Tell me about how that went.” 

Eddie glanced over at your closed bedroom door. Your eyes felt heavy as you looked at Eddie and that soft smile of his grew. He tapped your back and sat up. 

“Go use the bathroom. I’ll be right here when you get out.” 

He was. He stayed. Not long, but he stayed. He crawled under the top cover with you and laid beside you, an arm around your shoulders as you closed your eyes. You listened for a bit as he talked about his campaign, the intricacies of D&D, of being the Dungeon Master. But you started to drift off as his voice got softer and his fingers ran soothing patterns on your arm. 

“Night, pretty girl,” he murmured, and you felt a faint kiss to your forehead. “See you Monday.”

You woke up sprawled on your bed, your comforter still smelling like his aftershave. You hugged your pillow as you buried your face into it. You lasted a total of thirty seconds before the memory hit you. Eddie had his freaking hand between your legs. Eddie had touched you. Eddie had made you cum. 

You rolled onto your back and snaked your hand down, same way as he had, this time underneath your shorts. You found where he’d touched you last night and closed your eyes. The slow circles mimicked his and you couldn’t stop yourself from pretending they were his fingers. Couldn’t turn off the voice that whispered in the back of your mind. 

“That pretty pussy wants to be stuffed, baby. And I think you want that too.”

You gasped, rubbing faster. A little aimlessly as you just searched for that building pressure. For that coil that tightened. Your back arched as you thought about the video you’d watched. The guy thrusting into the woman, her high-pitched and desperate cries. And you imagined doing that. Having someone doing that to you. Except when you looked at who was between your legs, trying your best to imagine what it would feel like to have something inside you, you saw Eddie. Hair in his face, a sheen of sweat glistening his body, all the tattoos you couldn’t normally see. 

He gave you a lopsided grin as you felt yourself clench around nothing. 

You rolled over onto your stomach as you came, biting down on your frilly comforter and moving your hips against your hand. Chased the same incredible feeling as last night. 

“I do,” you croaked out against your mattress as you came, silencing your moan as much as you could.“I want that.” 

You pulled your hand from between your legs and closed your eyes.

“I really, really want that.” 

[scottie-writes]

I hate anyone who says Eddie would only like one type of girl/person. Eddie’s cock gets hard the second anyone he finds remotely attractive is nice to him. He’s a touch starved horny idiot and he’s picking up whatever you’re putting down.

[scottie-writes]

Steve: Why do people always assume me and Robin are a couple? Girls and boys can be friends!

Eddie: … it’s not because you’re a dude and she’s a girl… Steve… I hang out with Nancy all the time and no one thinks we’re dating.

Steve, running his hand through Robins hair: What is it then?

Eddie, giving a sign of frustration: You are literally holding her hand right now.

Steve: so??

Eddie: You shared a milkshake with her at the diner yesterday, with one straw

Steve: Is everyone a germaphobe now?

Eddie: YOU SLEEP IN THE SAME BED

Steve: We have nightmares!! It’s comforting!!

Eddie: you’re wearing her shirt right now!

Steve: we’re the same size!! Clothes have no gender!!

Eddie: YOU HAVE PROMISE RINGS

Steve: FRIENDSHIP PROMISE RINGS

Eddie: You got matching tattoos! You have her name tattooed next to your heart?? Friends don’t do that!!

Steve: Well obviously they do!

Eddie: You spent last week openly planning your wedding! I’ve seen your wedding planner! It’s like 200 pages!!

Steve: HEY I’ve always wanted to get married okay I’ve been making that binder since I was 8 and she needs a beard!! It works for both of us!! She’s letting me plan the whole thing!!

Eddie: YOU INVITE HER TO OUR DATE NIGHTS STEVE!!

Steve: IM NEW TO DATING MEN OKAY SOMETIMES I NEED SUPPORT

[scottie-writes]

Under the Influence (Pt.1) (Harrington!reader)(Cousin AU)

CH. 1 How it all began.

Summary: After some life choices that don't exactly meet with your parent's approval they send you to spend the summer with your cousin in Hawkins. They're convinced he'll be a good influence and set you back on the right path.

Tags: Fem!reader, cousin!reader, Harrington!reader, slight AU,

w/c : 2k(ish)

A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first Stranger Things fanfic and the first fanfic I've written in about 10 years. I have this set around s3 but I'm not fully committed to cannon. I fully intend for this to become an Eddie x reader piece, so if that's not for you now, you know. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep in all the supernatural stuff from the show but either way, Eddie will remain alive and well, and the duffer brothers can bite me.

This is a reader insert fic but I'll be keeping use of y/n to a minimum just as a personal preference.

Feedback is very much welcome, but please be kind, I am old and fragile. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - A step too far? 

Your parents were good people.   They both held down steady jobs, working long hours, it had taken them quite some time and a few different tries, but eventually, life started working out for them the way they planned. Which made them good people, according to society. You didn’t see much of them, especially as you reached the age when they felt it was okay for you to make your own way home from school, around eight years old, as it meant your mother no longer needed to request half days. Whilst their hard work benefited the family, you lived in a nice home and never wanted anything; you were painfully lonely.  Growing up an only child, you had grown used to quiet and the peace that could come with solitude.  Something your peers did not appreciate.  Sure, you had some friends; however, those friendships were limited to school grounds and birthday parties. For the most part, you were content to be by yourself. The only time you remember enjoying the company of others was when you would spend your summers in Hawkins. 

Summer in Hawkins; a staple of your youth. For a few weeks every summer, when your parents were either: so swamped with work they couldn’t think about you or wanted a holiday together, to allow them some ‘quality time’ with one another.  They would ship you off to stay with your Aunt and Uncle, ‘quality time’ with you be damned. They did their best to make it seem fun, like Hawkins was your holiday, a treat just for you.   

“It’s a special time for you to get to know the family”, your dad would say.  

“ Think about how happy your Aunt and Uncle will be to see you.” 

“you and Steve are the same age; I’m sure you have lots in common”.

You were happy enough with the arrangement for a time.  Your Aunt was always delighted to see you - “It’s so good to have another girl around”, she would say - and she made the most amazing dinners.  Your Uncle was pleasant enough but was usually too busy with work to care what you got up to.  Then there was Steve.  You guys had been close in your younger years, eagerly anticipating how many weeks you would have to play and adventure together.  He was the only kid your age who seemed to understand when you needed that alone space. For a few years, it was the best part of your year, bar Christmas - the only time your parents seemed content to have you in their presence. As you had grown, though, the summers dragged.  You longed for your room, for your city, for the autonomy you had grown so accustomed to.  Steve, too, changed; he had friends of his own and summer plans concocted in school hallways, and the time you spent together each summer lessened.  He would still make the obligatory effort the first few days, ensuring you got unpacked okay and had everything you needed.  But it would never take long for him to become restless, your changing personalities no longer meshing. He just wanted to play with his friends, run around in the heat and the mud, and generally cause a little chaos, the way young boys want to do.  You would rather sit with a good book, either by the pool or in the library - they were the only places in town that held any interest to you. 

As the years dragged on, you found yourself bristling each time Hawkins was mentioned.  You questioned the need to be shipped off every summer.  After all, you were fourteen, and your parents had left you alone for extended weekends before - business trips always taking precedence. You fought them the whole spring on the arrangements; eventually, they caved—no more summers in Hawkins.  

-⌘-

The new arrangement meant you were alone most of the time.  You learned to take care of yourself, learned how to cook, how to navigate the city streets and keep yourself out of trouble.  Things took a turn around your 16th birthday.  Your parents had noticed that you had been lashing out more, the argument about Hawkins a few years prior being the beginning of a downward spiral, according to your mother.  You went to school, came home, then shuffled out again, not to be seen until your 10 pm curfew.  They never knew where you went and were beginning to get concerned. Hypocrites - you hardly ever knew where they were.  The comments started coming when you no longer would wear the dresses your mother bought for you—opting instead for jeans that slowly became more ripped and bedraggled as the years went on. “Darling, I wish you wouldn’t dress like that” “It’s not becoming of a young lady”  Then it was your taste in music.  You went from listening to the radio with pleasure to tutting and rolling your eyes whenever you caught wind of bubbly pop music.  Your preferences now revolved solidly around music that your parents claimed would “make your ears bleed”.  

  Your first grounding lasted a week.  It was the longest week you had ever known.  The grounding, of course, did not dissuade you from your rebellion but instead pushed you further into it.  You stopped caring about the consequences and went where you liked with whomever you wanted.  Often returning home a mere minutes before curfew - a strategic choice to mitigate the grounding as much as possible.  Your parents tried to crack the proverbial whip a few more times, but as history had proven, their jobs took precedence.  You were grounded in name alone, with no one at home to enforce it.  And so you fell into a life of relative chaos. Frequently skipping classes or, on an odd day, skipping school altogether.  Your choices of recreational activities becoming more ‘unsavoury’.  

The nail in the coffin was parent-teacher conferences during Junior year.  Your parents actually decided to attend this one - what with high school drawing to a close and college looming, they needed to know what to expect of you.  You knew exactly what to expect; you weren't precisely valedictorian material due to your frequent day trips around the city that often lacked permission.  And you hadn’t exactly kept your parents appraised of the situation.  ‘They’re never home anyway’, you had reasoned while forging signatures on the failed assignments that were becoming a regular occurrence.

The evening was a symphony of “If this continues, she won’t graduate”, “she’s a bright girl; if only she would try”, and “Maybe if she attended class once in a while, it would be better”. This culminated in a meeting with your principal, the man collaring your family as they finished their rounds with the disapproving educators you had come to know and loathe. His office was stuffy; windows shut tight despite the growing evening heat that heralded the start of summer.   Everything you had endured so far started to pile onto your shoulders. The sympathetic look he gave your parents and talked like you weren’t even in the room. The accelerant spilled on your already lit fuse was the ‘concern’ that spilled from your parents’ mouths.  You were tutting and rolling your eyes as they spoke about you like you were a problem requiring a solution, not their daughter.  “We just want what’s best for her” is the phrase that sets loose your growing frustrations. 

“Fucking liars”, you scoffed, venom dripping from each word.  The three adults turned to you as if suddenly remembering your presence, shock painted across their faces.  You took their stunned silence as an opportunity to tell your parents what you thought.  “If you cared, you would be at home more.” Your voice raised, heart pounding with adrenalin “the truth is you care about your jobs more than you ever cared about me” your chest was heaving now with the weight of your anger. “I’M NOT EVEN A PERSON TO YOU; I’M A BOX TO CHECK.  YOU DON’T FUCKING CARE” from there on; the words are all a blur; the only memory was the white-hot anger burning your throat as you screamed.  And then the sound of the clock that broke as you smashed it to the ground.  Never had your rage and bitterness been so pronounced.  With rushed apologised and fervent glares, your parents all but ran you out of the principles office.  

“I just don’t know what else to do for you”, your dad bristled in the car on the way home. “We’ve done everything for you, this life; it was all for you!” He was close to yelling, and you could see the flush creeping up his neck.  Your mom patted his arm. “We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart, but you have to work with us," her tone cloying as she eyed you in the rearview mirror. You said nothing; arms crossed, glare fixed out the window.  

The punishment came swiftly, suspension from the last few weeks of school, no prom, no attending school fixtures, no admittance to school property  - oh no, what a nightmare!-you rolled your eyes as your dad laid out the terms set out by your school.  Then there were your parent's terms.  Grounded, obviously, for the whole summer.  That’s what would fix it, they decided.  You had been sent to your room and told to pack up all your books, comics and music. You tried to resist until your dad informed you that if you didn’t pack it up - neatly and respectfully- he’d come back with trash bags, and you would never see any of your precious things again.  So you spent your night putting the only things that brought joy into your life in boxes.  They were placed in the attic, which was always locked.  “You’ll get them back when you can show us the little girl we raised,” your mom said as you cried silently, watching your lifelines slip away.  You scoffed at that “that they raised”?  They didn’t even really know you.   

-⌘-

You sequestered yourself in your room for three days.  You only came out for meals when your dad screamed at you from the bottom of the stairs, threatening your beloved things over and over.  The silent treatment was your crowning glory; not even grunts of acknowledgement passed your lips—glares from your bloodshot eyes were the only conveyer of your displeasure. 

It was on day four that your dad finally broke.  They had taken it in turns to stay home, ensuring you stuck to the terms of your grounding, and your ever gloomy presence was wearing on their nerves. I mean, really, how could they ever be expected to put up with a whole summer of this?  “I’VE HAD ENOUGH”, your dad bellowed that evening at dinner, “Jim dear, please don’t shout,” your mom cooed, “No, Mary, I’m done.  I won’t have someone under my roof that doesn’t want to be here.  Who can’t even acknowledge her parents when they speak to her.  I’ve had it! This is not what Harringtons do!” You knew it was bad when dad brought up the family name.  He rarely did, and you knew why.  He felt inferior to his brother, who, as far as you were all aware, never had any trouble. Not finding a job, not with his family, not with his town.  You knew your dad was jealous of the life that came so easily to your Uncle.  “It’s time you learned what it is to be a family”, he continued. “You need some better examples in your life; these peers of yours have filled your head with rocks.” His face was approaching a dangerous shade of purple as he continued to rant and rave about how disappointing you were. 

You seethed silently, glaring at your mashed potatoes -As he started muttering.  “ they never had these sorts of problems with Steve; hell, the kid even graduated despite having a concussion most of last year”. The family is very proud of Steve, the basketball player.  No one blamed him he missed out on a scholarship because of his mystery concussions.  No one even questioned why he’d been beaten up so many times.  You had tuned out your dad's ramblings for a minute, thinking about how different you and your cousin had become.  

“It's decided.  She’s going to Hawkins.”

[scottie-writes]

i'm doing the finishing touches on my first chapter of ST fanfiction, and I've planned a few chapters out.

hopefully it'll be ready to post soon

[scottie-writes]

hawkins' sweetheart - ch three

Eddie Munson x virgin!fem!Reader (Semi-NSFW)

Synopsis: After doing well on an assignment, you take Eddie out for a celebratory dinner--even if you have to lie to your parents about it in the process. But that dinner, as the two of you talk, marks a drastic change in your relationship.

Warnings: sorta nsfw content; fluffy interactions, more hints of corruption & innocence kink, eddie asks about reader's promise ring, Eddie helps the reader out when she asks him for a personal favor (or three), smoking, first kiss(es), eddie gives you some spicy homework

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: the next like.....seven chapters are all nsfw :)

Your parents bought the lie. You covered for yourself though. Said you might have another student to tutor. A few had mentioned Tuesday afternoon that they had some assignments coming up and might need some extra help. So you extended your hours on Wednesday and offered them up. They were already open and you’d had a few take up the open time back during the first few weeks of school, so it wasn’t totally unbelievable. But those slots hadn’t been open since you’d started tutoring Eddie. 

Not that your parents outright knew that. 

But according to Hailey’s younger brother Andrew, it had circulated around school that you were tutoring Eddie. Nothing more than the sweetheart’s tutoring the freak talk, but it still made your skin crawl. People talking about you wasn’t your all time favorite thing. But nothing you could do about it now. You just hoped your other students weren’t avoiding you on Mondays and Wednesdays because of Eddie. 

And Eddie, bless his soul. He couldn’t contain his excitement. And after the crappy session you’d had with Spencer, you needed the bright smile he gave you. Needed the hint of cockiness that seeped through as he slammed the graded essay down in front of you. 

“Eighty percent, baby.” He danced. He did a little, adorable, excited dance and you swore your heart grew a size as you watched him. The table shook as he plopped down beside you. “You owe me dinner.”

“I do. Eddie, congrats. Seriously. That’s amazing.” You picked up the essay and chuckled at the note at the top. 

Thank whoever you finally got to tutor you, Mr. Munson. Good work & good effort. 

“Ignore the first part.” You gave him back his paper. “That was all you.”

“You keep saying that. You are allowed to acknowledge you helped me, you know.” He still grinned down at the paper. 

“No, you just needed help rearranging some stuff. Really, Eddie. That paper was all you.” You turned and straddled the bench the same as he was. “Besides, I want students to acknowledge that they’re the ones getting there and there’s nothing wrong with asking for help. I just don’t like it when, once the student does well, the only praise goes to the one who helped them. It was a team effort.”

“Then,” Eddie said as he leaned forward and booped your nose, “start acting like it is one.”

You swatted his hand away as your body flushed with that restless, weird feeling. 

“Let’s get to work, Eddie.” You spun back towards the table. “Work first and then reward.”

You went to a diner near the school. It wasn’t super busy, but you still chose a little double table near the back corner. Well, technically Eddie chose it. He’d beaten you there and got a table before you were even out of your car. 

As you entered, a few people you knew just in passing gave you smiles and you gave them right back, even waving at a few. Eddie was sitting back and sipping on a soda when you sat down. 

You’d made him finish as much of his schoolwork as possible before going to the diner. He’d tried to convince you otherwise a few times whenever he got stuck on a question, but you’d just lean over, give him a hint, and tell him to continue. When you finally said let’s go, he basically cheered with joy. 

“Know a lot of people, huh?” That version of Eddie who sat at the back of the class was back. Quieter, more intimidating. Watchful eyes. 

“My parents had me do a lot of volunteer work in middle and high school. Kind of got around to meeting a bunch of people.” You sipped on the water Eddie’d gotten for you. “Can I be honest with you, though?”

“Always.”

“I don’t remember half of their names. A lot of the time back then is blurry.” You winced as you leaned forward and Eddie’s laugh made you look at him. “What?”

“There’s nothing wrong with not remembering someone’s name, (Y/N). ‘Specially when you’re always doing shit. Cut yourself some slack.” He leaned forward and the small chunk of space between you closed. “You’re only human.”

Whenever you went out for the celebratory treats with the other students, it was always professional. Yeah, you were sort of their friend, too. But there was a level of professionalism that you kept attached because you were trying to teach them. So normally, you’d just talk about school and classes or maybe the new episode of whatever show had aired over the weekend. 

But you could listen to Eddie talk about music until his voice gave out. And while D&D wasn’t exactly your cup of tea, the passion in his words was so potent that you were almost jealous. It made you want to see a Hellfire session. Imagining Eddie acting all theatrical in some themed room while building the atmosphere was only driving you to want to see it more and more. Especially since, right now, as he leaned back and played with the wrapper of his straw, he looked almost too mean to approach. 

After dinner, you ordered a banana split sundae for the two of you to share and Eddie kept smacking your spoon away every time you went for his share of whipped cream. 

“I’ve been doin’ lot of the talking.” Eddie turned the spoon upside down and you were entranced as he pulled it out of his mouth. He wasn’t even looking at you and he wasn’t doing anything except licking his spoon clean. But you just…watched. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.” You turned your eyes down to the half-finished sundae and picked up a small spoonful. 

“Call me a curious soul, but…” Eddie broke off part of the banana with his spoon and looked at the chunk. “What limitations does that ring got on you?”

“I think you already know the main one.” Your cheeks burned despite your attempt to maintain some semblance of nonchalance. “But…”

“But?” His eyebrows shot up and he ate the chunk of banana. 

“My parents are very strict on their beliefs. No alcohol before twenty-one, no cigarettes at all. Drugs are a no-go, studies are the only thing that’s important, and definitely no dating until I finished high school.” 

“High school?” Eddie’s eyes were wide as he sat his spoon down and he licked the corner of his mouth. 

You were staring at his mouth a lot more than you should’ve been. 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like I had time to date back then anyway. Most of my free time was dedicated to hanging out with friends. In between all those extracurriculars and studying. So.” You shrugged. “Same thing now, too. Although I actually have time to do stuff like this, so that’s nice.”

Eddie didn’t say anything as you swallowed another bite of ice cream. Your brows pinched at the one nagging thought you’d been trying to ignore since the school year started. You’d had the no dating rule, and it was technically lifted since you graduated, but you’d gone a whole year in college without making any progress on the new no rule status. 

“Although I still haven’t even kissed anyone yet, so here's hoping I can change that eventually.” 

Eddie choked on his drink and he brought a fist up to cover his mouth, coughing until his cheeks were red. You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist, eyes wide as he smacked his chest a few times and shook his head. 

“You’ve never even kissed anyone before?” 

You slowly pulled your hand back from Eddie and glanced down at the melting ice cream. It was a momentary lapse of judgment that Eddie was Eddie. Your friends were different. The only one who’d had their first kiss had been Hailey back in high school—behind the bleachers with Robert, the head of the debate club. They fell for each other pretty hard back then, but the most they’d ever done were those few stolen kisses. 

“No,” you squeaked out, unable to meet his gaze. “Closest thing I ever had was the time a kid kissed my cheek in elementary school.” 

“Christ, (Y/N).” Eddie cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Do you want your first kiss?” 

Your eyes flicked up and you knew Eddie wasn’t asking what you’d interpreted his words as, but the restless warmth that engulfed you knocked you off your feet. It was a genuine question—you hadn’t had it, so did you want it? He wasn’t offering to kiss you. Not that you’d kiss him. Kissing the guy whose pack of smokes you could see in his coat pocket wouldn’t be appealing. 

It shouldn’t have been appealing. 

“I mean,” you started, thumb playing with your ring as you held Eddie’s gaze. 

But you weren’t able to finish as the waiter came up and gave you your check. Eddie tried to pay for it but you snatched up the bill before he could. 

“Thought you couldn’t afford to pay my tutoring fee, hm?” You narrowed your eyes at him as you handed the waiter the cash. 

Eddie held up his hands in defeat, but there was a spark in those brown irises that made your heart skip a beat. 

It was getting dark outside when you left, and Eddie, as always, walked you to your car. He hung a step behind you, hands on his lower back, head a bit hung. He wasn’t saying much, neither were you. Not until you got to your car. 

“Never got your answer,” he said as you reached for your car keys. “You want that first kiss?”

You attempted to be cheeky, but you were so nervous that your words came out breathy. 

“Why, you offering?” 

Eddie tipped his head up and peered at you through his lashes. He took a single step closer and it put him within arm's reach. 

“Maybe I am.” 

You were looking at his mouth again. Your heart was hammering so loud and fast, even with space between you, Eddie had to hear it. If he touched you, he’d definitely feel it. He had to. And as he took a tentative step closer, he brought a hand up to your jaw to make you meet his gaze. When your back pressed against your car, Eddie’s fingers trailing back along your jaw, there was almost no space between you. 

“Still didn’t answer my question.” 

“I do,” you said a little too quickly and you were extremely aware of how fast you were breathing. “I…want my first kiss.”

“Do you…” Eddie’s fingers brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin, sent a shiver down your spine. One you unexpectedly liked. “You want it right now? For your own research purposes, of course.” 

When you didn’t answer immediately, he cocked a brow and tapped your jaw. Like that’d kick your mind into gear. But your silence was only because you felt like you couldn’t get enough air to ground yourself. You already knew your answer, but you couldn’t get it out. So as Eddie shifted back, you did the only thing you could think of to stop him and grabbed onto his jacket. Yanking him toward you brought one hand to your waist and the other to the top of your car. 

“Yeah,” you pushed out, eyes flicking over to the back of the restaurant. There weren’t any windows there, but if anyone came out and saw you and Eddie like this, it’d look bad.

This was already bad. If anyone saw, it’d be worse. 

You had no idea what you were doing, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Who am I to say no to a curious sweetheart like yourself?” 

Eddie’s nose grazed yours as he leaned in. It caused your breath to hitch before his mouth even touched yours. But when it did, your grip tightened on his vest. It was the lightest touch—barely even a kiss. So soft and almost tender. And his fingers, as you gasped against him, dug into your waist in a way that made your legs weak. 

Holy crap. Your grip on his vest tightened and you were completely at his mercy—a warmth traveling over your body that entranced you. You tugged him closer, scared that he’d stop. But the tug made him put a little more pressure into the kiss, guiding you with his mouth. And it was even better—gave you the slightest tease of him. Like the sweet, decadent sundae you’d had. And as Eddie’s hand skimmed up your side as he continued to kiss you, a soft moan slipped from your lips. 

It was like a knife through a string. As soon as he was there, he was moving back. 

You’d seen movies. You’d talked with Hailey about her kisses. So when Eddie put space between you, you had no doubt that he’d kissed you like that on purpose. A nice, sweet, teasing kiss for the chaste sweetheart. But you were so surprised by the sound he’d pulled out of you and the feeling of his mouth on yours, all you could do was raise your fingers to your lips. You pressed them to your mouth as you watched him smile. 

“Night, (Y/N).” His rings clanked on the roof of your car as he tapped it. “I’ll see you next week.”

He laughed when all you could do was nod. He’d managed to render you totally speechless and you drove home thinking only of the kiss. Showered and thought only of the kiss. It was just so…chaste. That was the only way you could think to describe it. For a guy like Eddie, you thought he would’ve taken full advantage of your request and just…turned the scene into a makeout one from some romantic comedy. 

But it was just a dragged out peck. 

And even worse—you liked it. You liked kissing him. And as the thoughts dragged on, you wanted to do it again. You really, really wanted to do it again. 

But you had to wait until Monday before you could even think about seeing him again. 

“I have a question,” you asked Hailey as Jodie, Rose, and Lillian were buying concessions for a movie. “Just…a random one.”

“Go ahead.” She shoved Andrew towards the concession stand. “Go get your snacks, goofball.” 

Sometimes their parents had Andrew tag along with Hailey when you went out somewhere. But Andrew was basically your own brother at this point so you had no qualms with it. Jodie, Lillian, and Rose just went along with it. 

“When you were kissing Robert back in high school, uh.” You cleared your throat. “Was it like a quick thing?”

Hailey looked at you for a few seconds before a sly smile appeared. 

“Should I ask why you’re asking?”

“General curiosity.” 

“No.” Hailey glanced back to make sure Andrew was far enough away. “We, uh, went for a while at it. Felt horribly guilty after, but after the next few times, it was worth it.” 

“So…it wasn’t like a few seconds and then done?” 

“I mean, our first one started like that. But as we figured out that we really enjoyed what we were doing, it…escalated.” She glanced down at her promise ring. “Nothing like that, just…like tongue and stuff.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your whole body burning. “Thanks.”

“Find someone you wanna kiss?” 

You shrugged as the group grabbed their snacks and started back towards you. 

“Anyone I know?” There was a flicker behind her eyes. But the group was already back before you could answer. When Jodie asked if you were ready, Hailey nodded and looped her arm through yours, following behind them as they walked to your theater. “Take a risk, (Y/N). Have fun. It’s definitely worth it.”

You were woefully inexperienced. You could tutor people in almost any subject so long as you had a textbook for it. It was a special talent you’d garnered over the years. But anything regarding stuff like…kissing? Or whatever happened beyond that? You had watched movies and that was it. And even those were still clean. 

What was worse, too, was that you couldn’t exactly look anything up. Your only computer was in the living area, you definitely couldn’t go to the library to do any research, and Hailey was the only friend who remotely broke the rules. And that was one time with one guy in high school. And as close as you two were, there was still a vulnerability in asking her to elaborate on it. 

Even worse than all of that—you couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie. You had to snap yourself out of daydreams during your studying on more than one occasion. But it was exceptionally difficult to not think about the kiss. His mouth was so soft, and the way his fingers dug into you was making you feel a certain restless way. 

You were starting to get a little frustrated with how restless thinking about it was making you. 

Especially because the more you thought about it, the more restless you got, and you had no way to try and rectify the situation. Pressing your legs together helped a little bit but you had no idea what else you were supposed to do. You knew guys had a way, if that’s what you were feeling, but you had no clue what you were supposed to do. And even alone in your room, you were too embarrassed to try. You weren’t even sure where you were supposed to start. 

And that restlessness stayed through the weekend and all the way to Monday. 

Got worse when Eddie sat across from you at the picnic table and handed you his notebook so you could go over another round of history notes. He had another quiz and you were so freaking dedicated to getting him to graduate, that it was pure spiteful determination that you made it through the session before you snapped. Even when Eddie was purposefully nudging your feet underneath the table and giving you a teasing smirk every time you got a little flustered. 

“That was barely a kiss,” you finally said when you passed Eddie the finished stack of flashcards. 

Eddie dropped his notebook into his bag before leaning onto his forearms, getting as close as he could to you with the table still between you. He bit his lip and it was one of the most smug expressions you'd ever seen him. 

“Still thinking about it, huh?” 

“Yeah, cause,” you stuttered out, avoiding eye contact, “it was barely a kiss.”

“What, you wanted something more than that?” 

“It was…just not what I was expecting from you.” 

“Think I’d sweep you off your feet and ravish you?” He glanced down at his hands. “Didn’t want to overwhelm you for your first kiss.”

“I…” Your voice went soft and you looked down at your hands. You ran your thumb over your palm and shrugged. Throughout the whole weekend, everything aside, it was just a blatant reminder of how little you knew. And you didn’t like that. You hated it. You hated not knowing things. And you hated how badly you wanted to know more. 

And how badly you liked an idea you came up with. 

“I have a question.” You sucked in your cheeks and peered up at Eddie. “Regarding our current situation.”

“Go ahead.”

“What do you think about changing your current method of payment for the sessions?”

“Depends on what you’re thinking.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m open to negotiation.” 

You knew Eddie had played a role in it, it would be dumb to pretend he hadn’t. But just the last few weeks with Eddie had made you antsy about how much you lived in a bubble. For a guy so unapologetically himself, it made you feel…so little. You’d known you were sheltered but it felt infinitely worse when you were with Eddie. And for the first time, you felt like you were missing out on things that you didn’t want to miss out on. 

And if anyone would be interested in something like this, it’d be Eddie. 

“I want to try more…stuff.” Your hand twitched and you caught yourself before you could touch your mouth again. “Stuff that you know a lot more about than I do.”

“Okay.”

“So, I was wondering, in exchange for the lessons, you could kind of give me my own. In…other stuff.” You swallowed the nerves down as best as you could manage. “Is that something you would be, uh, interested in? ‘No strings attached’ and stuff. I teach you, you teach me.”

The only way to describe Eddie when you finally looked up at him was surprised, a hint of feral, and just plain amused. It was clear that he couldn’t believe what you were asking him. The coy guy he was, he even pinched himself and shook his head. Smacked his cheeks, too.

“You really interested in doing that?” He finally said, mouth agape as he chuckled. “Really? Little Miss Doesn’t Break the Rules?”

“Yeah, I’m interested.” 

“Okay. Deal.” Eddie’s leg bounced and shook the whole table. “But you gotta tell me what you want to learn.”

“I don’t know. I don’t really know anything regarding this stuff.” You played with your ring. “Can’t ask what I don’t know.” 

“Alright. We’ll start small.” He glanced around as he reached into his jacket. You held your breath as he stood up and came over to sit beside you, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Open your mouth.” 

“Eddie! I need a bit more of a lead up to it. Some preparation.”

“Nope. Gotta have some spontaneity.” 

He lit the cigarette and before you could even protest, he was taking a puff and blowing the smoke away from you. His hand rested on your thigh as he held it up to you and you, after a moment of hesitation, put the cigarette between your lips. Your body tingled as he whispered inhale. It didn’t exactly taste good and the big breath you took was too much, causing Eddie to pull the cigarette away as you started coughing. He rubbed your back as you laughed, embarrassed at the immediate failed attempt. 

“There, easy. First cigarette.” He leaned close after blowing his next breath away and in the direction of the wind. “Already on the road to becoming a bad girl.”

You shoved him and coughed again. 

“That’s awful, how do you like that?” 

Eddie shrugged and tapped a bit of ash off the end. 

“Want another?” He wiggled his brows and laughed when you looked at him skeptically. “What, don’t want to tarnish the perfect interior?” 

The back of his fingers danced up the inside of your thigh and your body turned into such an antsy ball of nerves that you visibly tensed. 

“You okay there, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Just feel weird, that’s all.” 

Eddie cocked a brow and that feral surprise was back. 

“What kind of weird?” 

“Just…weird.”

Eddie nodded and put his cigarette out on the table. He cleared his throat and turned you to look at him. His fingers dancing across your jaw only intensified the feeling and you squirmed on the bench. Your knees pressed together and Eddie glanced down to watch. 

“Mind if I show you another kind of kiss?”

“Eddie.” You motioned to how out in the open you both were. “If someone sees us kissing and my parents find out….”

“They would’ve already seen you smoke, baby.” 

“Yeah, and I can at least explain that I wanted to test it. Pretty sure they’d be more forgiving about me trying and hating a cigarette than us kissing.” 

Eddie’s eyes flickered up and he nodded. 

“Follow me then.”

He brought you inside the school. You could hear the muffled sound of clubs in session as he tugged you, hand in hand, down the hall. Your quick steps echoed until he pivoted, tugging you into the women’s bathroom. His name was a whispered worry on your lips as he first checked the stalls before locking the bathroom door. 

“This better?” His hands went to your waist as he pulled you closer. “Hate to do it in a bathroom, but I think it’s the closest to isolated as we’ll get here.” 

“Eddie,” you whispered as he guided you back against the cold tile of the wall. 

“Is it?” He came forward and kissed your cheek. “Won’t do it if it isn’t.”

“It is,” you said on a shuddering exhale. 

“Perfect.”

His body pressed against yours just enough to remind you of how warm he was. He gave you that reminder for a few beats before his mouth was on yours. It was the same chaste kiss as before except when you thought he was going to pull away, his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. It made a jolt of something travel through you and Eddie chuckled when you fisted his vest the same way as last time. 

“Open,” he murmured and his tongue grazed your mouth. “Let this freak kiss you how you deserve.”

You slowly opened your mouth and Eddie jerked your hips closer. His handcuff belt pressed against you as he deepened the kiss and you found yourself going up to wrap your arms around his neck. He pulled a whimper out of you before he even ramped it up, and he grunted in response. And as that antsy, restless feeling started to twist and build in your lower stomach, Eddie’s tongue grazed yours. 

You gasped at the sudden contact and Eddie’s smile was impossible to ignore. 

He slowed the kiss down, gave you every little moment to relish the feelings as he kissed you. As his tongue dipped back into your mouth and pulled another whimper from you. Let you tug on his hair, nails digging into his scalp, as you held him against you. Like he’d stop if you didn’t. 

But Eddie had no interest in stopping. Not until you were panting beneath him and he kissed along your jaw. 

“You still feeling that weird sorta way?” 

“Mhm,” you murmured, nodding your head a bit frantically. “It’s…um, it’s worse.”

“Called being horny, (Y/N).” 

The world around you came to a sudden stop.

“Oh.” You swallowed, hands skimming down over Eddie’s shoulders, down his arms and all the way to his wrists. You glanced at his watch and you realized how late it was. Then everything suddenly sped up. “Crap. Eddie, I got to go.” 

“What, got other plans tonight?” He leaned back and his pupils were blown. 

“Yes, I have a dinner with our neighbors my parents love to try and have like once a week. It got scheduled for today. I have to go, I’m can’t be late.” But your legs were like jello so when you moved from the wall, you were somewhat unsteady. It made Eddie laugh as he caught your arm. 

“Crap, crap, crap.” You unlocked the bathroom door and rushed out, Eddie’s hand interlocked with yours. He followed behind you, letting you drag him. “Sorry. Bad timing, I know. I’m sorry.”

Thankfully the bags you’d left at the picnic table were still there and Eddie grinned as he helped you grab your things. 

“Um, study your notes tonight, I’ll quiz you again Wednesday, okay?” You tossed your bag into your car.

“(Y/N).” He reached up and tugged you back towards him. He glanced around you before he came back in and placed a soft kiss to your lips, stealing your breath away in the process. “Mind if I bring you some homework on Wednesday?” 

“G-Go ahead,” you breathed out. 

“Perfect.” He helped you into your car. “Get going perfect girl. Have fun tonight.” 

You flushed as he winked, and you watched him retreat to his car before leaving. You had no idea how you were going to survive whatever Eddie had planned for…educating you. He definitely seemed like a hands-on educator—if the last kiss hadn’t proved that already. You would’ve settled for explanations, but as you pressed your thighs together during your drive home, you were guiltily okay with his hands-on approach. 

You had to compose yourself before you rushed inside. You blamed traffic as you rushed to get ready, and your parents didn’t question it. You weren’t late, you were just later than you’d intended. And during the whole dinner with David, the two of you had totally given up on trying to make friends to appease your parents. Worked in your favor as you let yourself fall distracted by your moment in the bathroom with Eddie. 

He’d tasted like the cigarette he’d had you try. And that thought alone sent a chill down your spine that erupted into a cloud of warmth around your stomach and thighs. Horny. It wasn’t a bad word, but it felt so much dirtier coming from Eddie. You would’ve gotten to labeling it as that eventually, but there was something so embarrassing about Eddie having to be the one to tell you that’s what you were feeling. 

And he had homework for you. You could barely wrap your mind around the sensation of his tongue against yours. But he was going to have homework? You lacked the imagination to even think about what that could entail. Which only made it more exciting. 

You were…horny…the rest of the night. All through Tuesday, too. Seemed thinking about Eddie only made it worse and seemed that no matter how hard you tried to not think about him, you couldn’t stop. It was like you just thought about him more. His hands on your hips, his mouth against yours, his tongue dipping in. Or how his mouth trailed along your jaw and he whispered in your ear.

You fell asleep hugging your pillow Tuesday night, mind racing at the thought of his homework.

He handed you a videotape. Not in a box, nothing written on the label. Just a tape. He said nothing about his homework for you the entire session, just sat across from you as you worked and acted like the last two kisses hadn’t happened. Well, until the session ended and he packed up. Your heart leaped to life in your chest when he sat beside you and slid the thing your way.

“What’s this?” 

“Your homework.” He nodded down at it. “Watch it.”

“What…is it?” You poked it like it was some foreign object and Eddie laughed. He waited for you to pick it up before he spoke. 

“Porn.” 

You dropped the tape and looked up at him with wide, wide eyes. He laughed a little harder and leaned forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. 

“Eddie.” 

“It’s your homework. Want you to watch it. It’ll be your first time, right?”

“Y-Yeah.” You shimmed in your spot, a bit anxious at the thought.

“So, wait until your parents go out or they’re fast asleep one night, sneak out into your living room and watch the tape. At least five minutes of it.” He grabbed your notebook, squiggling down seven digits onto the page. “In case you ever get any questions.”

“E-Eddie, I can’t…” You were staring wide-eyed at the tape and Eddie scooted closer, a hand dropping to your shoulder. 

“If you think you’ll get caught, don’t do it.” His hand skimmed down your back. “But I think you’ll like it.”

You nodded, and Eddie stood up. He had to meet up with his bandmates for extra practice, and you felt yourself deflate. It’d only been an hour session and as you shoved the tape into your bag and followed Eddie towards your cars, you were silent. Watching him walk to throw his bag into his car, you really didn’t want him to leave. You kind of liked the break you got whenever you were with him. 

But he still swung back to see you into your car. It made your heart twist. 

“I’ll see you next week.” Eddie squeezed your waist.

“Yeah, next week,” you murmured. 

Eddie stopped as he started to walk away. His hand started to fall away from you before it was back. He slid it slightly up your ribs and your breath hitched. But he still kept the arms length between you. 

“I have a big paper coming up, might need to stay a little later on Monday. If you don’t got another dinner to go to.” His hand fell as the front doors to the school opened. “That alright?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, a soft smile tugging on your lips. “Totally fine.”

“Perfect. Then I will see you Monday, baby.” 

You leaned against your car until Eddie left, watching him speed out of the lot. 

This all was so going to be a bad idea, wasn’t it?

[scottie-writes]

So I started writing, got about 2,000 words in and then decided to entirely change the premise. The has result in two separate fics being started.

I’m hoping to have something I’m happy with the end of the week but I also have a job interview on Friday and a d&d game this Sunday so maybe not. We shall see.

[scottie-writes]

𝒱𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒'𝓈 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OC

Word Count: 1.773

Warnings: None

Summary: After seeing you crying because of a Valentine's Date dinner, Eddie decides to take matters in his own hands.

As your best friend, Eddie knew something was wrong. You barely talked all day, kept your head down and wasn't even eating your lunch - You merely pushed your food around the tray.

He could tell by the glossiness of your eyes and the redness of your nose and cheeks that you were near crying but was holding it in. It pained him to see you like this and he wanted nothing more than seeing you smile at least once today.

You were seated at the Hellfire table with Eddie and the rest of the guys, which in itself was unusual; as much as you all were friends, normally you had lunch with your friends in the debate club. That made Eddie think that perhaps you had a fight with someone in the club and was keeping your distance but he couldn't tell what could be so serious to the point of bringing you to the verge of tears.

All of the guys at the table could feel that something was off - Gareth kept trying to make you laugh with his lame jokes, Dustin and Mike offered you their chocolate puddings and Lucas was down right glaring at the debates team. To be fair, you tried to make it seem like you were okay: you laughed half-heartedly to Gareth's jokes, took a spoonful of the boys' puddings and even squeezed Lucas' shoulder but they could all tell you were holding back.

After lunch, you and Eddie went on to English class which you normally loved; but today you didn't even take your notebook out of your backpack and simply crossed your arms on the table, resting your forehead on your arms. That made him even more worried - it was super worrisome that you were so in your head that you didn't even want to pay attention to classes.

"hey, are you ok?" said the little piece of paper that Eddie slid into your table.

"i'm okay, just tired :)"

"you sure? you didn't even eat your lunch today and we had lasagna. that thing is nasty but you love it"

"i'm just not feeling well today. think i might be coming down with something"

"do you want me to go with you to the nurse?"

The last question got no answer. Y/N simply gave Eddie a fainted smile and rested her head against the table again.

When classes ended, Y/N seemed to vanish. Eddie tried looking out for her, but couldn't see her anywhere at school grounds. He went home and tried to go on with his day as normal, but he couldn't focus on anything - music, his next D&D campaign, or reading. Groaning loud, Eddie hopped in his van and drove to Y/N's house as fast as he could. Climbing up to the second story of the house, Eddie got himself in Y/N's room through the window and got greeted by the vision of Y/N curled up in a ball, crying and sobbing.

Eddie jumped to the bed, holding your frame in his arms while you tried frantically to wipe away your tears, startled. You were so deep in your crying that you hadn’t realized Eddie had entered the room. Embarrassed, you didn’t want him to see you crying but now it was too late for it. Eddie merely shushed you, mumbling comforting words into your ear while you slowly calmed down and stopped sobbing. When Eddie felt you calmer, he wiped away your tear with his fingertips and merely shot you an inquiring gaze

"So… You know Julian?"

Oh, Julian. The bane of Eddie's existence.

You came running towards Eddie, practically skipping, with this huge smile splitting your face. Eddie couldn't help himself but smile back, especially when you threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. 

"So, why are you smiling like the Cheshire cat?"

"You know Julian? That guy in my debate team?"

"Yeah, the one with the glasses. What about him?"

"He asked me out!"

Eddie felt his heart sinking.

"... Oh. He did?"

"Yes! We're going to watch a movie on Friday."

"But like, do you want to go out with him?"

"I mean… He's nice. He's smart, he's funny. And he's cute too"

"But he's so… bland"

"Eddie, he's a guy. Not a piece of unseasoned chicken"

"He might as well be! Don’t you think you should be going out with someone who’s interesting? Or, I don't know… Someone who's not as charismatic as a slice of white bread?" Eddie could see you visibly deflating, rethinking your choices.

"Just… you know, it's not like I have a full on queue of guys waiting to ask me out. And Julian isn't that bad"

Eddie helped you get ready for your date. He drove you to the cinema. He saw you walking in with a hopeful smile and he swore he could feel his heart physically breaking. 

But he could also see how you and Julian acted after that; your eyes would light up when he walked past you in the halls, how you'd blush whenever he waved at you or how you'd try and catch his eye; for fucks sake, you'd even started wearing make up and putting more effort on your looks to go to school. On the other hand he could very clearly see how he'd be stiff when you tried to hug him or how he'd discreetly stuff his hands in his pockets when you'd try to hold his hand.

"What about him?"

"I asked him what we were doing this weekend - y'know, for Valentine's Day. And he just blew up on me in front of the whole debate club. Yelling that I'm annoying, I'm clingy, that he never wanted to be my boyfriend, he just wanted to fool around and that he'd never in a million years would take me out for Valentine's and that I better stop bothering him" you word vomited in between sobs while Eddie's facial features darkened. "I understand that maybe it was wrong of me to pressure him into a Valentine's date, but he didn't need to humiliate me in front of everyone like that, you know? I just feel so dumb, like… I wasn't asking much. I just wanted a guy to care for me and do all that stupid stuff they do in movies".

"I thought you didn't like that kind of stuff"

"It's just… easier to pretend I don't like it than admitting no one bothers enough to do it for me" you mumbled, rubbing your face with your sweater sleeves. Eddie looked at you, puffy eyes and red nose, and he couldn't help but curse himself for being such a coward.

He'd been in love with you since always: your mothers were close friends - so close that your mother was the one hugging Eddie at his mother's funeral while Wayne read the eulogy. You were in all of Eddie's oldest and happiest memories and when he was a little kid he used to talk about marrying you all the time. But with time, Eddie felt comfortable being your best friend and couldn't bring himself to confess his feelings, too afraid of ruining one of the few sincere relationships he had in his life. For him, it was enough to hug you from time to time, have sleepovers at each other's places and get to be the person you confide in.

"Look, it's not your fault if he's stupid. You're beautiful, smart, funny and a fucking good person. He should feel grateful that you gave him the time of day, let alone actually wanted to date him" Eddie said, smoothing your hair. Now come on, I want you to take a hot shower so we can watch some lame comedy movie”.

The next day, Julian had a black eye by lunch time. Meanwhile, Eddie had this little smirk on his face.

***

It was now saturday, Valentine’s Day, and you had been moping around the house; your parents had left for a romantic getaway in a cabin and left you to spend the weekend by yourself, on the grounds that you were old enough to not get into stupid trouble. You were standing in the kitchen making some popcorn while wrapped in an old blanket when you heard the doorbell going off.

When you opened the door you were greeted by the sight of Eddie, visibly nervous, in a pair of black trousers and a white button up and his hair tied back, holding a small bouquet of lilies.

“Did- did someone die?”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“Edward, I can’t think of another reason for you to be dressed like that”

“Number one, don’t call me Edward; Number two, I am offended and I’ll have you know that if I’m taking my girl out for a special dinner, I will put some effort into how I look”

You stood there at the door, looking at Eddie with a raised brow, confused.

“So, our reservation’s at eight. I guess that gives you enough time to like, shower and get dressed? Oh, and these are for you” he said, motioning towards the flowers.

Slowly, you grabbed the flowers and looked around, still trying to understand what was going on. What reservation? Why the flowers? Since when does Eddie tie his hair back? What the fuck was going on?

“C’mon, go on and put on some nice clothes. I know you’ll take a decade to do your hair, so chop chop, let’s go” mechanically, you made your way back to your bathroom and while in the shower you started putting pieces together. Eddie had planned to take you out on a Valentine’s Day dinner? And brought you your favorite flowers? And even wore a button up shirt?

Moving fast now, you got out of the shower and quickly changed into a nice dress and - as much as you hated to admit that Eddie was right - took your sweet time to do your hair and makeup while trying not to get yourself worked up. When you came down the stairs, Eddie had placed your flowers in a vase with some water and was now staring at you lovingly.

“Eddie, I swear- if this is you doing something because you felt bad after the whole Julian fiasco, I-”

“Promise, this is nothing like it. Just… me doing something I should’ve done a long time ago” he said with a smile, while reaching out for your hand.

You smiled back and let him intertwine his fingers with yours. It seemed someone actually wanted to do all the sugary sweet bullshit you’d seen in movies, afterall.

[scottie-writes]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 pt. i ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: something that is desired all the more because it is not allowed—you find yourself torn between the idea that even though eddie is in a position of authority as your professor, he’s still what you crave the most.

cw: 18+ (minors, dni) teacher/student relationship, age gap (21 & 29), corruption!kink (eddie is well aware of what he’s doing), background ronance, max is readers bestfriend, eddie likes to wear his hair up for class and hates being formal, bratty!reader (sorta), angsty touches, a smutty cliffhanger, ect & lots more to come (pun intended)

word count: 11.6k

The campus was huge and crowded and everything you hated all wrapped into one—but you couldn’t beat the view, the pleasant Indians weather, and all the amazing classes the college had to offer. And normally, first days would be terrifying, crippling your anxiety, but there was nothing but excitement; for now, at least. 

Most of your morning was spent combing through syllabuses and trying to find your classes, which is mostly your own fault, deciding on a major so vastly different from your main course work—by the time afternoon rolls around, you’re forced to walk clear across campus, nearly ten minutes late to your class and faced with a surprisingly unirritated gentleman, who’s three seconds away from shutting the door closed indefinitely.

The man steals a glance at his watch, arm twitching slightly to force his sleeve back. His eyes glance up to you for a moment and back down, “Not a great way to start off your first day,” He comments cooly, face void of any emotion, “is this gonna be a habit?”

“No—god, no,” You respond, slightly out of breath, hand clutching the strap of your book bag, “I’m just getting used to where everything’s at—I didn’t get a chance to visit the campus earlier, I have no idea where anything is or—“

“It’s fine,” He assures, beckoning you into the classroom, surprisingly full, forcing you to the front row, positioned almost directly in front of his desk—this was the beginning of your nightmare, “let’s just be mindful of time, yeah?”

Not that Eddie has ever been punctual a day in his life. But, he’s learned that being a hard-ass is more effective than not giving a shit at all, especially when it comes to his students. 

“Yeah—yes, I promise.” You swear, forcing a thin smile before making an immediate line for your desk, hoping that the further you sink, the more unnoticed you’ll be. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case. 

The loud slide of the chalk against the chalkboard as he writes his name across the green slab is defeating, most of the class watching in fearful silence—like there was some impending doom about to descend upon them. 

“Uh, sir—“ You can see him visibly tense at the word, “are we going to be learning how to play any instruments in this class?” The voice comes from a boy who seems naturally quiet and more reserved, mortified by the fact that he even found the courage to raise his hand and ask a question. 

There’s a small roar of laughter from the others, but you look along stoically, watching his face upturn slightly. 

“Don’t call me, sir—please,” He laughs lightly, “it makes me feel old.”

“Professor Munson,” He corrects himself, “sorry.”

“You’re fine,” He assures, “and look—this isn’t an intro to music, it’s intro to musical therapy. We’re not just studying instruments and music, we’re also studying behaviors, the mind, how all of this stuff connects and affects people’s thought process and aiding certain struggles they may have.”

His way of talking is animated and refreshing, a stark change from the usual monotone professors you’ve run into all morning. 

“So, if you’re just expecting to learn how to play the piano or something, this class probably isn’t for you,” He explains, eyeing down about a quarter of the class that makes a collective groan, “hey—I’m just being honest.”

And you knew you wouldn’t see half of those people in a week, jumping at the first chance to transfer, but you couldn’t help being intrigued. It wasn’t necessarily your first choice for a major, but it took you by surprise; your love for psychology and mind studies mixed with your love of music, it seemed like the perfect storm. Plus, your professor wasn’t the worst person in the world—yet. 

He easily snaps open the cuff links to his sleeves, rolling them halfway up his arm, revealing a rather striking depiction of bats, swarming around the expanse of his forearm. 

He definitely seemed like a tattoo guy, but it was still odd to see so openly—his feet tap together as he takes a seat on the end of his desk, scanning the room. You can’t help but notice his lopsided tie, wanting so desperately to fix it—it was bound to drive you nuts. 

“It’s probably best to get most of your question out of the way today,” He says, “so, shoot them at me while you have the opportunity.”

A few hands fly up, he points off to your right, a couple rows behind you. 

“So—are you a therapist?” 

He snorts a soft laugh, shaking his head, “No—I don’t have all the proper certifications, but I assist therapist a lot when they’re looking into doing stuff related to musical therapy. I know enough to get by.” 

The smile he flashes leads you to believe that he’s trying to be humble. 

“Do you play any instruments?” Another student asks freely, the heads of the rest of the class snapping in their direction.

“A few,” He answers, hand waving about in a noncommittal manner, “mostly just guitar.”

He adjusts his tie again, even more lopsided now and you can’t help but stare it down, focused on nothing but the black, shiny material of it—Eddie clears his throat softly, catching your attention.

He’s staring right at you, caught red-handed—quick, think of something—

“Who do you usually work with?” You ask suddenly, “In your line of work, I mean.”

Outside of being a professor, obviously. 

Another laugh, more subdued. “Veterans, mostly, and a lot of children.” 

Eddie claps his hands together very suddenly, startling most of the class, including yourself. “Anyways, let’s go over the syllabus so there’s no confusion—I don’t need you guys bugging me outside of my office hours, as much as I love to teach.”

You sense another jab coming, but it doesn’t.

The syllabus review is a breeze, setting you up for what most of the semester entails, including when he was available—again, making it very clear that he wasn’t available outside of office hours. 

And then he’s adjusting the damn tie again, almost like it’s wringing his neck to death. By the time class ends, he dismisses everyone with a simple wave, a few students lingering around their desks, debating on whether they should drop the class or not. 

The voice that trails from the front of the classroom as you take a step down catches your attention, pulling your head up to look at the culprit. “Staying or dropping?” He asks.

Professor Munson. It felt weird and unnatural as it rolled around in your mind, still not falling from your tongue. 

“Staying,” You answer surely, “I knew what this class was before I signed up—I’m not about playing roulette with taking a college class.”

“Fair enough.” He’s leaning against his desk again, hands shoved into his slack pockets, shiny, gold watch resting on his wrist, and you can’t take it anymore, the frustration boiling from your chest

“Your tie,” You say abruptly, pointing at the material, “It’s crooked.”

Really fucking crooked. 

He takes a glance down, finger slipping in the space between his tie and neck, pulling at the offense piece of clothing, loosening it until it’s snapping away.

He balls up the tie and tosses it behind me, landing messily on his desk. “I never wear those after the first day—hate them. They’re so stupid.” 

“Or, you just don’t know how to tie a tie.” You point on, mouth speaking before your brain can catch up—realizing much too late that this was your professor, not a friend. 

Eddie scoffs mockingly, “And I’m sure you do.” He counters, watching your face drop slightly.

You did, actually—but that wasn’t the point. 

“No one ever taught me.” He tells you, “So I’m wingin’ it.” 

You nod thoughtfully, surprised at how quickly you managed to embarrass yourself. “Oh.” You say simply, it’s all you can manage. 

You save yourself for further humiliation by offering a wave of goodbye, breaking the uncomfortable tension that had grown between you both, excusing yourself immediately.

And if that was horrible enough, your night would be even worse. 

☆.｡.:*

“The Hideout?” You ask curiously, twisting the flyer in your hand, “That place is still open?

Max snatches the paper from your hand, shoving it into the pocket of her jacket, protecting her from the biting cold of wind—the beginnings of Hawkins autumn weather creeping up on you. 

It didn’t help that you were barely covered from the waist down, skirt leaving little to imagine as the slit ran high up your thigh, thankfully the long sleeve top you wore was enough to save your upper extremities. 

“Nancy and Robin swear by that place—plus, they’ll be pissed if you don’t go.” Max explains in her usual ‘could care less’ tone.

The only reason she was going was because of Lucas—a boy she’d met during her first class that day, who she also invited out, despite barely knowing. You couldn’t blame her, though. Max could handle herself well enough, that was for sure. 

The drive is long, further out of town than you expect—hidden on some rundown road on an empty corner, bare except for the small bar, yet the place was packed with cars. 

“Okay, maybe this place isn’t as rundown as I remember,” You take note of, “or everyone really wanted to get drunk tonight.”

Either way, you were definitely heading toward the latter option, following closely after Max. It doesn’t take long for Max to be pulled away though, quickly distracted by the only reason she came here, abandoning you. 

“Have fun,” You remind her, “seriously.” 

You could take care of yourself, settling up at one of the empty tables before the stage, perched on the uncomfortably tall seat, ordering yourself a quick drink as a server passes you. 

“Hey!” A perked up voice yells out from behind you, arms wrapping around in a gentle hug—no one had the nerve besides Robin, who quickly caught you in a fuller hug as you turned to face her. “How have you been? Where’s Max?”

“She’s busy,” You laugh, giving her a pointed look, which she catches on quickly. “Where’s Nance?”

“Right here,” Her delicate voice peaks out from behind Robin, watching as her hand sneaks into Nancy’s, squeezing firmly. 

You smile to yourself, but Robin sees it, shoving you an annoyed look. 

At least those two finally figured it out—almost ten years later. 

“So, you two know who’s playing tonight?” You ask curiously, sipping on the beer that the server passes to you on their way through the crowd. 

“Yeah, he’s an old friend—we haven’t seen him in a while, though.” They both frown at the mention of it, sharing a quiet glance. “We should’ve invited Steve, Nance.” 

“He never wants to leave the house, you know that.” Nancy adds, “His kids keep him busy enough.”

And it seemed like Steve got the life he always wanted, for the most part—but it’s still somber to think about, wishing just as badly that you could’ve seen him once more. 

“Maybe next time.” You offer, and both of them smile. 

“I’ll have to remind him to invite you to his littlest’s party in a couple months,” Nancy says, “he misses you.” 

The feedback startled all of you, pulling you from the conversation and toward the stage, light dimly over the center. The lights around the bar dimmed in contrast, adjusting everyone toward the men gathering in their places on stage.

You squinted carefully, watching the guitarist adjust the microphone, pulling it up to his height. His hair was long, unruly, and obscuring his face as he leaned forward, speaking into the microphone. 

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He asks with a decent amount of enthusiasm, receiving a hearty applause in return. “We’re Corroded Coffin.”

The name blanks in your mind, not ringing any immediate bells. 

It was definitely a crowd full of fans—or family, at least. They excitement was palpable, everyone leaning on the edge of their seats.

“This is our first show in a couple years, so go easy on us.” He laughs, head flicking up to move the hair out of his face—again, he spots you almost instantly. 

The intake of breath is involuntarily, getting caught in your throat. The blush that creeps up your cheeks is hot and burning, noticeable from a mile away.

Eddie fucking Munson, your college professor—of all the chances and fate in the world this is how your night was going to go?

Eddie clears his throat, immediately averting his gaze. “We’re just doing cover songs tonight—so if you’ve got a request, send it through Gareth.” He instructs, jerking his head over his shoulder. 

And despite how mortifying this all feels, Eddie plays his heart out; you’ve never seen anything like it. He’s a person who expresses himself through his body and his music, clearly—thrashing wildly and putting every movement he can into his playing, bouncing on his feet. He can’t be bothered to stay still, which is a complete difference from his classroom demeanor.

From what you’ve seen, at least. 

“You good?” Robin asks, nothing the ghostly look on your face.

“Yeahyeah, uh—“ You reply distantly, “The lead looked familiar, but I think it’s a coincidence.” 

One hell of a fucking coincidence. 

“Eddie?” They both ask simultaneously, “There’s no way.” 

Eddie Munson. Again, your professor—but also, a friend of a friend, and a complete fucking stranger otherwise. You must’ve pissed someone off well enough down the line to end up in this position; the biggest dose of karma you’ve ever felt. 

“Like I said—it’s probably a coincidence.” You assure them, eyes still locked on him. 

“Yeah—I don’t think we started hanging out with him until after you moved schools.” Nancy supplies, further attempting to assure you.

Eddie catches another glance at you and you can’t help but down the bottle of beer in one go, immediately leaving your seat to ask for another, leaving your friends to congregate at the table.

The song ends abruptly, falling off of a long guitar solo, and you can’t even dare to look in that direction, faced shoved into the drink you gripped in your hand. 

“Come here, come here,” You hear Robin call from behind you, but you know it’s not for you, another rumbling voice slipping through the many others, a weak protest, “Stop being like that.”

There really was no arguing with Robin and Eddie was smart to keep quiet, following her obediently to the bar. The hand that clasps your shoulder is light and gentle and Nancy shoots you an apologetic look as you look behind you.

“Ringin’ any bells now?” Robin asks playfully, holding her hand up under his face, like he was on display. Eddie makes a face, side eyeing her affectionately. 

“No, sorry,” You lie easily, shrugging him off. Eddie seems to relax at that, half-expecting you to out both him and yourself—not that there was anything wrong, it was just another freaky coincidence, “What’s his name again?”

And really, it’s just to poke fun, the slight buzz creeping into your system. 

“Eddie Munson,” Nancy replies, glancing between the both of you, “Edward, if that helps.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at that, hand held up in desperation as he called out for a drink over your shoulder, reaching around you to grab the bottle. You visibly tense at the proximity and he notices, still, he doesn’t try to move away. 

This was too weird.

“Nope, still nothing.” You tell them, sticking to your story. 

Robin shrugs, “Well, I should probably explain—Nancy used to babysit her when she was younger, her and Max and all those crazy little kids that we always told you about—“

It made you wince; babysitter, Nancy, kids. It was the worst sequence of words that could’ve been spoken in history, to your professor, in the middle of a bar, that he was also playing at. 

“Robin,” You warn, “I’m sure he doesn’t care.”

“Nah,” Eddie shrugs, leaned beside you against the bar, metal chain clinking against the counter-top, lifting the beer to his lips leisurely, “It’s nice to meet you.”

And the smile seems forced, but his voice is steady, easy—you almost believe him.

But, then Nancy and Robin are pulled off in a different direction, catching up with another small group of friends and Eddie is staring at you.

And not secretly—very, very openly. 

“I swear I didn’t—“ You start.

“I don’t usually,” He interrupts.

You both take a hard stop, looking each other down. 

“You first,” He instructs, bring the drink to his lips once more, “then I’ll go.”

“I swear I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” You explain, “otherwise I would’ve skipped out.”

He wants to ask why, but the answer seems obvious—no one wants to see their teacher outside of school. 

“I don’t usually make a habit of letting my students see me like this.” He motions to his get-up, hair loose and clothes even looser, aside from the obviously homemade jacket he wore, patches hand stitched and worn at the seams, but the weirdest part of it all—the ripped jeans. It felt out of place for someone nearing their thirties. He catches your gaze, the judgement evident. “My point exactly.”

“So, that’s why you don’t know how to tie a tie.” You challenge, taking a long sip of beer, eyebrow quirked in amusement as you swallow, cheeks puffed out by the liquid. 

He scoffs softly, amused at your comeback. “We shouldn’t even be talking right now, you know that?” He points out, yet he hasn’t moved an inch, still close enough that if you decided to separate your thighs, he’d fit perfectly.

You hum quietly, “Yet, you’re still here.” Another beer down, another slipped into your hand like clockwork, throwing it back easily. “So, who’s fault is that?”

Him being the responsible adult and all, not that it really mattered here. This would be a level playing field outside of any other circumstance. 

“Wait—can I ask a personal question?” And maybe it was the alcohol talking. 

“No—“ He answers quickly, but your brain bypasses it.

“How old are you?” You ask curiously, “You look too young to be a professor.”

Eddie looks stunned, affected by your forwardness, but he takes it in stride. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment—I’m twenty nine, a couple years older than Nancy and Robin.”

You don’t press on the additional information, but nod thoughtfully, taking another quick sip of your beer.

“Sorry—it was bugging me. I have a bad problem with filtering my thoughts.” You admit sheepishly, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, fiddling with the flimsy zipper on your skirt. 

“Clearly,” Eddie laughs, bringing the bottle to his lips slowly, stopping just as his lips pressed the rim, “Are you even old enough to be drinking?”

“Are you going to kick me out if I’m not?” You challenge playfully, Eddie doesn’t bite, looking you down accusingly.

It was as if he suddenly shifted back into teacher mode, judging your choices and feeling the need to scold you.

“I’m twenty one,” You tell him, “don’t have a fucking stroke over it.”

You don’t know why Eddie’s eyes shift, scanning full body, like he’s trying to take all of you in—both of your contrasting styles outside of school are a welcomed surprise; he doesn’t really expect it from you. But, you could say the same for him.

“Wasn’t gonna,” He assures you, nursing the beer near his mouth, forearms leaned against the bar now as he looks toward you, eyes catching the way your fingers fiddled with the label on the bottle, “you cold?”

Your leg crosses over the other, goosebumps riddling your skin—it’s like he’s a mind reader, the entrance door of the bar swinging open, a cold blast of air spreading throughout. “Not really.” You lie, gripping the end of your skirt to shift it down. 

You could’ve been more practical, shown up in jeans and some worn out band shirt, but you wanted to look nice—feel cute and dressed up for once, was that a crime? 

“Hey, there you are,” Max calls from behind you, scattering toward you with a wide-eyed Lucas in tow, “so you met Eddie?”

You turn in your seat, staring the fiery redhead down, a smile plastered on her freckle covered face. 

“You too?” You ask incredulously, glancing toward Eddie, who seemed rather unfazed by it all now. “What the hell?”

“He used to live across from me, back in high school,” Max explains, which makes sense.

You moved after middle school, leaving most of Hawkins in your rear view, aside from the occasional letters to Max—both of you swore that despite the distance, college was your nonnegotiable; both of you applied, both of you got accepted, it was some sort of divine miracle, but neither of you questioned it.

“Small world,” Eddie shrugs from beside you, finishing off the last sip of his beer, “you staying out of trouble, Red?”

“Probably not,” She replies honestly, before turning to you sheepishly, “—do you think Robin will give you a ride home?”

“Max,” You groan, her look switching from hesitant to pleading, “fine—whatever, I’ll talk to Robin.”

“I love you,” She says endearingly, wrapping you into a quick forceful hug, nearly knocking you from your chair, “I owe you one.” 

“Uh huh,” You reply sarcastically, waving her away, “See you tomorrow.”

When you turn, Eddie is slapping a fresh bill on the counter-top, returning his chained wallet back to his pocket.

 “I guess I’ll be seeing you Monday.”

Saying it makes it even weirder. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” You assure him, seeing the way his eyes catch yours, almost thankful. He doesn’t have to say it—he didn’t take you for the type to brag, but still, it’s a comforting confession. “I promise.”

The last part feels like too much, but Eddie smiles regardless, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders, preparing for the crisp, cold air that awaits him.

Robin, find Robin. Your brain scrambled, searching around for your friend—or Nancy, but neither of them are anywhere inside of the bar. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding. 

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks softly, pulling the hair caught under the lapel of his jacket.

“I think they left,” You frown slightly, preparing yourself to walk several blocks until the nearest bus station, feet already sore and achy from the uncomfortable heels you wore, “Robin and Nance.”

And Eddie has the internal battle with himself for at least half a minute, weighing the odds of how uncomfortable this could be, or how creepy it may come off, but he wasn’t going to leave you high and dry—he wasn’t raised that way.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks suddenly, swinging his keys into his palm.

“Huh?” There was no way you were taking a ride from your teacher, of all people. “—I’m fine, really. I just need to walk far enough to the bus stop.” 

“In those?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring down at the heels that hugged your feet like a vice grip, already sore from only a couple hours of use. “It’s not a big deal—are you going back to campus?”

You nod hesitantly.

Eddie motions toward the door and you follow obediently—your feet could thank you later. You knew there was no harm in a ride home, either, Eddie was far from the normal sketchy men around Hawkins, but it didn’t feel right. It felt like keeping a secret from your parents and doing something that had persistently told you not to, or how often the school system looked down on relations with staff outside of school, no matter the level or severity. It seemed that Eddie was hoping you’d keep this to yourself—he was counting on it.

☆.｡.:*

“Did you enjoy the music at least?” Eddie asks halfway through the drive, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other fishes for his pack of cigarettes; a bad habit he’d yet to break.

“I mean—they were cover songs,” You shrugged, “Metallica is alright, but I prefer Bon Jovi and Quiet Riot—“

“Are you shitting on Metallica, right now?” Eddie asks, shocked by the admission. He manages to wiggle a cigarette out with one hand, tossing the box toward the middle console, “Do you mind?”

Part of you wants to say yes, just to be difficult, but you shake your head. He flicks his lighter opening, lighting the end of the cigarette until it burns a bright amber, ashes falling from the tip.

“You dress like you’re stuck in the eighties, dude.” Eddie seems offended by the comment, but takes it in stride. 

“Says the lady who still listens to Bon Jovi.” Eddie sharks, pulling the cigarette from his lips, smoke billowing from his nose as he breathes, “

You hate how nice it is to watch, his soft lips pursing into a tight line. One more hit at him and he’d probably fail you out of spite, but you do it anyway. 

“Says the guy still singing eighties cover songs.” Eddie winces at the jab, flicking away the ash from the cigarette, held out in the air as he searches for his retort.

“So you hated it?” Is all his brain can muster at a time like this, brain hazy from the amount of beers he consumed—you could say the same for yourself, the alcohol buzz is still ever apparent—you wouldn’t have ended up in a situation like this while stone cold sober, that’s for sure.

“No,” You reply honestly. The music was good, the performance was even better, but still—it seemed he was searching for your approval, like it would make all the difference, “but it’s the mid nineties, you need to get with the times.”

Eddie scoffs offensively, a few more puffs before he’s rubbing the cigarette to its untimely demise, pulling into the quiet campus. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” He says, coming to a stop, “—I hope this is close enough, the last thing I need is someone catching me dropping you off.”

Then he shouldn’t have offered a ride, which was his first mistake of many. 

It’s offensive how handsome he looks under the dim lights radiating from the inside of his van—an odd choice for a teacher of his salary, but it still makes sense, somehow. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sir.” You retort, throwing the last bit in for fun—he tenses again, visibly. He doesn’t correct you, though, which is even more difficult to understand.

He offers a simple wave, friendly and polite, then he’s gone and halfway across the campus before you can even process what happened. 

It also doesn’t help that the first thing you see in your dreams that night is his face—ungodly in the way he worshiped your body, from head to toe; it was definitely the alcohol talking. 

☆.｡.:*

Monday drags more than you expect, having nursed your hangover during the weekend, it felt like an aftershock was trying to overtake you, your focus lacking. It wasn’t unlike you. 

You replay the conversation with Eddie in your head a few times that weekend, realizing that even through your drunken haze, Eddie was not attempting to be teacherly toward you—he was friendly, a natural conversationalist, it felt wrong. 

It felt even worse when you fell asleep, his head stuck between your thighs as you dreamed that night, “She’s so pretty,” His voice is faded, muffled—like he’s stuck in a tunnel and too far away, “fucking soaking wet, too.” 

And it feels too real as he licks a broad stripe up your cunt, moaning obscenely as his face is coated in your wetness, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit—it’s too much for you to process. 

“Good afternoon,” Eddie’s voice carries through the door to his classroom, satchel and coffee in hand, looking just as worse for wear. His hair is tied back in a loose bun, no tie today, and his slacks look like they’re been worn for a week straight, wrinkles and all, “nice to see the class has downsized.”

It has, nearly half of the original class is gone—which really, it was better for you. You couldn’t focus in large classes and it felt less personal, more disconnected than you liked.

Eddie tries desperately to keep his energy up during the duration of the lesson, but he’s lacking on all fronts—maybe he had a rough weekend? 

When he hands out the first assignment near the end of class, he stops by your desk, leaning on the railing to speak to the entirety of the class, “And don’t freak out—this is just a basis to see where you heads are at in terms of what music you like, how it makes you feel, it’s just a soft introduction into some of the stuff we’ll be covering over the semester.”

It’s a list of various songs, bands, genres—a mix of things dating back to the early fifties, up until more recently. “Go out, rent some of this if you’ve never heard of it, and write what you feel—that’s it. Easy enough?” 

Eddie doesn’t acknowledge you most of the class, which is expected, but disappointing. He seems preoccupied, distracted, clearly bothered by something. But, it wasn’t your problem—the only focus you had now was your course work, which was the first thing you started on that night; a very giddy Max rummaging through your dorm room as background noise, so disorganized it could drive you insane. 

“He drove you here?” She asks.

“Yes—but you can’t say anything, Max. I’m serious.” 

You didn’t have anything to worry about, you knew that.

“I didn’t even know he taught here—or that he was even a professor. I mean, I know he finally graduated but—“

“Finally?” You ask curiously, swiveling in your chair to face her fully, interest fully piqued.

“He had a rough time in high school—he didn’t graduate until he was twenty, I think.” She explains, busy hands now stopped in their tracks. “He’s been through a lot.”

Your eyebrows raise in question, hoping Max would spill everything she knew—you couldn’t help but be curious about him, even if he was your professor.

“He probably doesn’t even know I go here,” She laughs slightly, “His mom and dad were never in the picture, though—at least I never saw them, it’s always been him and his uncle. He hung out with Nancy, Steve, and Robin a lot—closer to when he was graduating, they’ve stayed good friends, I guess.”

You nod slowly, absorbing the information.

“Is he mean?” Max asks randomly and you almost laugh, “My professors are the worst.”

“He’s fine,” You shrug, “It’s kinda nice that he’s not such a dick, you know?”

“What does he teach again?” 

“Musical therapy?” You respond, wondering if that would surface any other tidbits of information.

“Oh—that kinda makes sense. He was always listening to music, then he just disappeared after graduation, but his uncle always talked about how he was helping people, doing something he really liked—I just never bothered him about it.”

There’s a long silence before Max can’t help herself, perching herself on the surface closest to you, pens scrambling to the floor as she takes a seat on the edge of your shared desk. 

“What did you guys talk about?”

“The weather,” You say flatly, not receiving any type of reaction from her, “—-just music, that’s it.”

“But, babe, you love music.” Max reminds, like it wasn’t painfully obvious. 

“And—he’s my professor, it’s fucking weird.” You explain, but even Max doesn’t believe you. “What—why are you looking at me like that?” 

“You two are so similar,” She laughs, “It’s freaky.”

“Maxine—what are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing,” She shrugs, hoping from the desk, “—remember that I’ll be your maid of honor at the wedding, though. We pinky swore.” 

“He’s my professor, Max.” You stress again, Max smiles wide, annoying you further.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, right?” Max asks, realizing that you’d used the same playful jab at him the night before.

“What?” The coincidence was uncanny.

“Eddie used to tell me that whenever I tried to justify doing something I wasn’t supposed to—I’ve grown, obviously,” That’s not entirely believable, but you keep your mouth shut, “the saying stuck with me—it’s kinda fun to use.”

“Whatever—did you get the music I asked about?” You ask, impatiently switching the topic to something less scandalous.

“Everything was spoken for,” Max explains, trying to let you down gently, “I really tried—but I guess everyone in that class had the same idea on where to go, unless you want to take a trip to the store and buy them—“

And it dawns on you, Eddie must have some sort of music collection, “Wait—what time is it?”

Max takes a quick glimpse at the alarm clock on her nightstand, “A quarter past five, why?”

Still open for office hours—you prayed silently, despite your lack of religion, hoping that he was still in his classroom.

“Give me a ride.” 

Max doesn’t question it, being the best friend she is. 

☆.｡.:*

“I’m busy,” He says before you can even knock on the door, your loud ascending footsteps giving you away, “come back in the morning.”

You peek through the window of the door anyways, seeing a perfectly relaxed Eddie reclined at his desk, feet propped up as he jotted something down in a book, tongue poked out in focus. 

“Uh Professor…Munson,” It felt foreign and weird, “I just had a question.” 

His demeanor changes on a dime at the sight of you, unbusying himself completely. It’s a little hysterical, but endearing nonetheless. It makes your stomach flutter at the sight, scrambling to button his shirt higher, seem more professional, not that you hadn’t already seen him outside of work.

The door creaks open, his head popping through as you back away, “What’s going on?” He asks, surprised that anyone would dare to bother him outside of normal class hours. It doesn’t take you long to realize that he only mentioned the office hours out of courtesy, he didn’t actually expect anyone to bother him. 

“I was trying to work on your assignment—“ His eyes softened, and it made you flinch, feeling exposed, “I don’t really have the money to buy any of the music and everything was already rented out—-so I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“Oh,” He wasn’t sure what to expect but he finds himself opening the door wider, welcoming you inside, “Yeah—a few students raided my shelf before class was over but I’m sure there’s some left.”

“Thanks,” You reply shyly, squeezing beside him, watching as he lingered by the door still, hands shoved into fists in his pockets, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, sir—“

“You can call me Eddie—here, at least.” And that definitely doesn’t feel appropriate, but if he’s insisting, well…

“Sorry, it just feels…strange, I guess.” It’s not how you wanted to describe it, but it’s the only word that comes to mind. “I can’t imagine how weird it is running into your students outside of class.”

“Probably as weird as it feels running into your teacher,” He adds playfully, lightening the mood. It’s nice that he’s not so bothered by all of it, “Oh—I’ve got some Elvis in there, a lot of classic rock. I’m not sure about the newer stuff, though.”

“Max has some of it.” You comment without thinking, sifting through the box of music, picking and choosing as you went. 

“Max?”

“She’s—she’s my roommate here.” You answer quietly, unable to meet his eyes as he walks closer, leisurely making his way around his desk. 

“I guess I should’ve put that together,” He says, taking a moment to examine the sweater you’d shoved on, “You two share a closet?”

“Among other things.” You smile, grasping the stack of Cd's in your hand, “How did you know?” 

You share a glance down at the faded sweater, reading off the name of some random skate shop back in rural Hawkins, a place you’ve never stepped foot inside of.

“I got that for Red on her sixteenth birthday, before I left.”

Eddie’s frowning now, nearly unnoticeable, but you see the way his mouth creases, eyes turned down. “It’s her favorite,” You say, in an attempt to make the mood less dark, “but I always steal it from her—she’s let me take residency over it at this point.”

“It looks nice,” Eddie says suddenly, feeling the slip up as it slides off his tongue, rambling even further as he says, “on you—I mean, it’s a nice sweater—that’s why I bought it.”

You laugh softly, bottom lip jutting out as your mouth curls into a smile. “Thanks, Eddie.”

He scratched at his temple, ringed finger shining against the light refracting from the lamp on his desk. You’ve never noticed it before—or them, since his hand was adorned with three, that you could see. 

“Hey, those are cool—“ You point out, finger pressed in the direction of his upheld hand. He stops, views his hand, almost like he’s forgotten he was wearing them, “I’ve noticed them before.”

“I try not to wear them during class hours, the administration thinks it’s unprofessional.” The nature of the rings, not the fact that he wore them—if he had a wedding ring it wouldn’t matter, but the thought of marriage made Eddie want to vomit. 

“Fuck ‘em.” You say crudely, shoulder shrugged In indifference. 

Eddie’s mouth hangs open slightly at the sudden outburst, amusement flooding his face, “I’m still your professor—probably should keep that type of language to a minimum.”

You snort at his indication that he had any type of hold over what you do—he couldn’t be further from the point. 

“Or what?” You say challengingly, “This isn’t high school—it’s not like you can give me detention or tell my parents.”

“I am the one handling your grades.” He counters, hip leaned against the edge of his desk. Your free hand travels to your waist, slipping underneath the sweater to rest against the skin.

“You don’t intimidate me—I hope you know that.” You remind him carefully, eyes narrowing in his direction. “The other’s are terrified of you, but that shit doesn’t work on me.”

And he should know better—you shouldn’t even be here and he definitely should be flirting with a student, if you could call it that. Was this flirting? Was this crossing the line? He’s studied body language for a long time, through the process of his treatment of people, and he can’t help but notice how relaxed you seem, almost enjoying the back and forth.

“You should go,” He says quickly, avoiding any further lines being blurred or crossed or misconstrued; you were his student and it was unprofessional, “my office hours are closing soon.”

“Uh huh.” You nod slowly, adjusting the stack of music under your arm, watching the way Eddie’s fingers drum against the desk impatiently, like he can’t wait to get you out of there. 

If he was really that bothered, he could’ve said something.

“Thanks again, professor.” You say with grandeur, motioning to the stack of Cd's, “It’s greatly appreciated.” 

Eddie tries to ignore the small sliver of skin that shows underneath your slightly raised top that was no longer obscured by your hand, almost like you’re doing it on purpose.

Which, yes, you absolutely were.

You slip by him silently, avoiding the way his eyes follow you. It felt predatorial, but not uncomfortable—and that’s what you hated about it. 

He didn’t look at you as a student—he looked at you like something else; you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

Eddie turns on the heels of his shoes, “I expect those back tomorrow,” He warns, but there’s no sense of actual ramifications behind it.

You don’t answer fully, a small nod that Eddie doesn’t quite notice. He grabs the sleeve of your sweater gently, his fingertips pressing against your covered arm. “I mean it.” 

You look at the hand that gripped your arm for far too long, Eddie still holding on just as hard. “I know.” You appease him, “And if I don’t—you know where to find me.”

The glance to your desk is silent, but done in unison.

“Wanna let go now, sir?”

Eddie hates the way his dick twitches under the material of his corduroy slacks, releasing the bunch of material from his grip. You half-expect him to scold you for the remark, but he’s speechless, for once in his life. 

“Sorry,” He apologizes, feeling like he’s made things uncomfortable, but it’s so far from that—he has no idea, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“On time, hopefully.” 

It’s just another playful comment, but it has Eddie gripping his thigh from the inside of his pocket, muscles tensed in frustration.

You leave with a wordless smile that’s burned into Eddie’s mind for the rest of mankind—and it’s definitely not the first thing he thinks about when he slips his boxers down his thighs that night, cock still half-hard from earlier in the evening.

☆.｡.:*

He becomes a permanent fixture in your dreams as the weeks grow on, unbeknownst to him—not that he can say much for himself either, annoyed by the finite nerve you have to walk into his classroom, skirt pulled halfway up your waist, ass barely peeking out of the bottom of the pleated material.

He knows it’s wrong and going against all of the rules set it place for this very reason, but he can’t help himself. So, he suffers in silence—not that it was anything new to him, he’s done it his entire life; under different circumstances and situations perhaps, but the basics of it still remained. 

“Fuck—spread your legs,” His voice is hushed, quiet against the skin of your leg as he sucks a deep purple mark into the skin, jerking at the touch of cold metal, the outside of his rings grazing your thighs, “wanna taste you.”

It feels too real—you toss and turn in your sleep restlessly most nights, dreaming about your professor with his hands around your thighs and his mouth buried deep into your cunt. 

And with little to no interaction during class, aside from the occasional glance in your direction, he kept his distance—which wasn’t a surprise, he had no idea.

He had no idea that his student was practically pining after him. It doesn’t help that you’ve seen him outside of the classroom, dress downed and free of an inhibitions or rules; it was a special kind of torture. 

It’s late October when Eddie speaks to you directly, alone—he’s got most of the class set up on various different instruments of their choosing, allowing them to feel them out and play freely, and somehow—by some fucked up fate, you get stuck with a six string and not a clue how to play. 

Fake playing wasn’t working, Eddie could spot it from a mile away. You don’t chance the glance up at him, but the squeak of his shoes is enough warning, bracing for whatever remark was going to be sent your way. 

“Have you ever played before?” He says instead and your eyes immediately shoot up to him, all previous restraint thrown out the window. 

“No, not really.” You say truthfully, watching as Eddie pulled up a chair in front of you, facing the back of it in your direction, thigh swinging over the side—his jeans tightening with the action, along with your thighs. You really needed to get your shit together. 

“Here,” His hands come out to rest over yours, adjusting your left hand over the base of the guitar, your right hand around the neck, “This is A,” He presses your finger over the cord, instructing your other hand to strum.

It’s slightly out of tune, but the guitar seems old—probably provided by the college rather than Eddie himself, “That’s good,” He praises calmly, “Now try playing an A sharp,” He guides your hand further down the neck, the warm, rough skin of his hand covering your own. He feels tough and worn and you notice the small cuts around his fingertips at this proximity, breath catching as his hand grasps around the wrist that was actively strumming the guitar, “it’s really complicated at first, there’s a lot to learn.”

“Clearly,” You say, forcing down the smile that threatened to break through, “how long have you played?”

He seems surprised that you cared or even tried to ask.

“Since I was about twelve, probably.” He answers honestly, “More than half my life.”

Eddie still hasn’t moved his hands, either—he can’t be bothered. It doesn’t look as incriminating as you thought, but still, you knew. He helps you play through a few more notes until he’s gotten you to the point of playing a small, five second tone—but it’s all you can really manage. 

“It takes a while.” He assures you, not that you wanted to pick up a guitar again after this.

“Why don’t you play?” You ask sweetly, smiling flashing with nothing but devious intent, handing the guitar over toward your professor. 

“Nono—I’m really not—“ He protests, setting the guitar back on its stand beside you.

“Not what? That good?” You ask curiously, he was worse at lying to himself than he was to you. 

“Are we forgetting how I saw you play that night?” You ask quietly, nothing how his gaze lingered with yours, “Because if that wasn’t you then—“

He gives you a muted look of warning, wanting you to drop the topic of conversation, but you can’t be bothered. He wasn’t in charge of you, not really. 

“You can play a Dio song blindfolded, I bet,” You point out, still keeping enough of a hushed town that only Eddie can hear, “Your eyes were closed that entire set.”

“It was my first time back home in a while,” He defends lamely, “It helps with the nerves.”

“I thought it was really good.” 

Eddie’s eyes light up in a way you can’t ignore, bordering on shock and adoration, it’s the first real smile you’ve seen from him.

The end of class comes quicker than you want it to, forced to pack your belongings back into your bag in a rush, everyone’s already managed to file out before you can even think of zipping your bag up.

“Hey,” Eddie calls out, every other student already long gone, “here, take this.” 

It’s a flyer, similar to the one Max shoved into your hands a few weeks prior. 

A different bar, same band; one night only. 

“I’m probably breaking a thousand rules by giving you that,” He explains carefully, “but maybe you and Max could come out and watch us play—tell her I’ll even throw in some free Kate Bush.” 

Your smile is warm, folding the flyer and stuffing it into your pocket. “I told you—I’m not the type to blab, Eddie.”

You hate how easy it feels to say his name in such a setting, still dressed up in his ridiculous attempt at seeming studious and professional. You knew he hated it, he knew it too. 

“I can ask her—if not, I’ll still show.” You tell him.

He was only inviting Max to be courteous, but that wasn’t up for him to decide whether or not you actually brought her along. Either way, he was appreciative. He knew that a lot of the support he received back home was mostly done out of obligation and sympathy, but with—it felt real. He didn’t know you, he didn’t have anything to prove to you, and more importantly, you were genuine and honest; he hated that you took up this class. Hated it.

“It’s not a big deal if you can’t.” He offers as an out.

There was no way you were going to miss it, not with how Eddie was looking at you now; despite the circumstance, it was so blatantly obvious to you how badly you wanted him.

“Eddie, I’ll be there.” You assure him once more.

And if the smile that spreads over his face isn’t something worth worshiping, you’d surely find something else. 

☆.｡.:*

The bar is small, on the complete opposite side of town—but Max still offers to drive you, but it’s definitely not for your own benefit. She hasn’t shut up about Eddie since you’d told her the situation, the weird looks he gives you, and the horrible filthy dreams you’ve been having; sans the super embarrassing details. She gets it—it’s incredibly amusing to her, but she gets it. 

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” You asks, fingers tapping nervously against the ripped denim of your jeans, frayed material pulled between your fingertips. “He did invite you.”

“Babe, I’m doing you a favor.” Max interjects, halfhearted smirk on her face.

“He’s my teacher—for the last time,” You begin, beyond desperation, the words falling from your tongue weren’t even believable to your own ears, “I’m not trying to fuck him, Max.”

“I did not say anything about fucking him,” She laughs amusingly, turning into the parking lot of the bar, “—it’s just not as weird as you’re making it out to be. I’ve known Eddie for a long time.”

“You’re really missing the point.” You say, rubbing the frustration on your face away with your hands, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“Oh whatever, don’t tell me you suddenly have some strict moral compass,” Max replies flippantly, “you want to screw him and you know it.”

The suspense is enough of an answer. There was no lying to Max, she knew just about every deepest, darkest secret you carried.

She pulls to a stop outside the entrance, turning toward you carefully, “Also—I can’t pick you up so you’re gonna have to ask him for a ride. I love you.” She rambled it off in one breath, barely giving you time to process. “See you tomorrow?”

It’s the one fight you decide not to pick with her, because for some reason, you know it’s for your own good. 

“Hey—you made it!” The familiar voice calls from behind you—Eddie, guitar case in hand, the rest of his band mates in tow. “Red.” He acknowledges, offering her a nod. “There’s parking in the back.”

“Oh—I’m not staying,” She shouts from the driver’s side, “take care of her or I’ll murder you, Munson.” 

Max is pulling off before you have any last fleeting chance to run, leaving both you and Eddie at a loss for words.

“Pulled a fast one, didn’t she?” Eddie asks after a moment, gathering by your side, following you into the bar. “She’s sneaky as hell, I’ll give her that.” 

“Yeah, you could say that.” You huff softly, watching your step as you crossed the threshold, hit in the face with the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. 

“A beaut, isn’t she?” Eddie asks sarcastically, but despite that, the bar still garnered a decent amount of attention, packed to the brim with older gentlemen—nothing like bars near campus. 

“I think I found your target audience,” You joke lightly, catching the smirk that crosses Eddie’s face as you glance over your shoulder. “I’ll fit right in.” 

Eddie slaps a twenty into your hand, “Here, drinks on me—since I forced you here,” You look at him reluctantly, “I don’t want to hear it.” 

“I didn’t plan on drinking tonight.” You insist, forcing the bill back into his hand, “I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” He asks, eyeing you carefully, like he’s trying to find a hint or tell, something to figure out what exactly your mind was fighting against—which right now, it was the fact that Eddie looked ridiculous with eyeliner, yet, still criminally attractive.

It’s exactly why you shouldn’t have come tonight, because whatever could happen—you weren’t sure if you had it in you to shut down. 

You nod with finality. Eddie takes the money back reluctantly, stuffing it into his front pocket. He feels terrible that you have to sit there, alone—all to watch a shitty cover band play a few songs.

But to you, it was worth it. 

You sit and wait, forcing away the bartender a few times until he finally gets the message, leaving you be. It’s quiet, aside from the hum of laughter and idle conversation, Eddie and his group setting up silently onstage—that impending feeling in your gut expanding further as you watch him move around, guitar strap swung over his neck, watching shamelessly as he adjusts the instrument against his body. 

He catches your eyes then, sending you a cheeky smile that has you face burning on the spot—at this point, you care less about your professional relationship, if it could even be considered that. 

Eddie plays with all the gusto you expect, belting out lyric after lyric on his performance high; it’s unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed. It’s hard not to compare him to his classroom demeanor, more restrained and relaxed—it was forced, that was easy to tell. But this—this was Eddie, unafraid and free to behave how he pleased, it was unfair how attractive he was, both in looks and personality. It felt like you’d know him longer than just a few weeks; months maybe? Years? 

It was like hanging out with an old friend, discovering new and old things about one another; you’d spill your heart to him at a moment’s notice if he asked—and that’s why this felt so dangerous. 

☆.｡.:*

“How was it?” Eddie asks as he rounds the corner, still slightly out of breath and face covered in a sheen of sweat. You hand him a napkin in silence and he laughs, but accepts the offer.

“Good,” You smile honestly, “I really enjoyed the gradual crescendo from Holy Diver into Living After Midnight—“

Eddie could kiss you on the spot, which is such a startling thought that it stops all thinking completely—you were absolutely too good to be true, it was a constant reminder every time you spoke, making him fight with this taboo feeling more and more every day. 

“Do you still need a ride home?” He asks suddenly, interrupting your waterfall of compliments, “I was going to head out already.”

“Well, considering Max left me stranded,” You say with an empty bitterness, knowing that her attentions were mostly good, “yes, I do.” 

Eddie nods a silent direction—and just like the first night, you follow without question.

☆.｡.:*

The foot that isn’t pressed on the gas pedal is shaking insistently, leg bouncing against the leather of Eddie’s seat, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He can hear you humming, mumbling the song on the radio to yourself, another classic—one of Eddie’s favorites, and he really can’t help himself anymore. 

It was just a small, innocent indulgence. Who could it really hurt? You were both consenting, capable adults—and the worst thing you could do was turn him down, which Eddie really hoped wasn’t the case, but he was beyond caring about norms and rules, driven by the pure fact that he just wanted—wanted you, in any sense of the word. 

“What are you doing?” You ask curiously, watching as Eddie searched idly through his stack of music, somehow still managing his focus on the road.

“Changing the song,” He comments simply, pushing the disc into the player—the soft synth of the song pushing through the speakers of his van, “do you know it?”

“Corey Hart, right?” You ask, taking a wild guess. You’d only heard the song once, but it was still catchy enough that it stuck around in your brain, “I didn’t picture you as the type.”

“You’d be surprised.” He comments oddly, turning the volume up slightly. 

He notices the humming again, the small head bop along to the beat. “You like it.”

It’s more of a statement, rather than a question. You catch the side of his face, the small glint in his eye as he focuses back on the road.

“That's presumptuous of you,” You retort, hands twisting in your lap, “it’s alright, I guess.”

“Mind if I do a little study?” He asks hesitantly, breath catching in your throat for half a second.

“Of me?” You ask with a laugh, “I mean—if you want?”

“Your heart is racing, for one,” Eddie points out slyly, watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest as the beat picked up, chorus running through the silence that filled the air, “and you’re squeezing your hands.”

“Okay, genius,” You remark, “You’ve got eyes, good for you.”

He’s not really using his degree in this situation, it’s more of an innocent observation of the already underlying tension that Eddie couldn’t help but notice—the obvious body language giving you away. The song was just a secret favorite of his, but you didn’t need to know that, not yet.

“Mind I make one?” You ask, “An observation, I mean.”

What was the harm in it anyways? Eddie nods for you to continue.

“You’ve been shaking your leg since we left.” You point out, the bouncing coming to an abrupt stop, “and I’ve never seen you do that—ever.” 

“It’s the after performance buzz.” He replies cooly, but you can’t be bothered to believe it. “It’s not that unusual.”

“Eddie—you’re making that up,” You tell him, eyeing burning into the side of his face, “what’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah—why are you lying?” It’s a bold question to ask, heart fluttering in your chest. But, the way he looks at you has your legs crossing in frustration, squeezing together to relieve that ache growing between your legs.

“So, you want to pretend I didn’t notice that either?” He asks, eyeing the full expanse of your body before stopping on your legs, still firmly crossed in the seat, hands white knuckling each other under the long sleeves of your shirt. “Uncross your legs.”

“What? No.” You scoff, offended by his forwardness for a brief moment. 

Eddie slips his hand under your knee wordlessly, prying your legs apart. You can’t help but look at him as if he’s lost his fucking mind—that doesn’t stop your legs from following his order. It made the ache that much worse.

“Don’t,” He warns hesitantly, the small shift in your leg giving you away, “it’s not gonna help.”

“Help what?” You reply dumbly, “I can’t cross my legs? Is that a crime?”

Eddie’s gaze lingers for far too long, noticing the flush of your chest and the way it creeps up your cheeks—they felt like they were on fire. In the midst of all the back and forth, it’s hard to keep focus on the main fact at play—teacher, student, your mind screaming, wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

“I can help.” He makes a subtle nod toward you.

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. You were very well aware of the issue. You want to weigh your options, come up with some stupid reason to wiggle out if the situation—but nothing comes to mind. The way Eddie’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel has you digging your nails into your own thigh—you’re going to cave, you can feel it. 

“Eddie.” You warn, watching as his hands lingers toward the gear shift, resting against the cracked and worn down plastic covering.

“Our secret, right?” He teases, like this whole situation wasn’t built on secrecy. You nod willingly, legs spreading a few inches wider. His fingers trail the seam of your jeans, stopping on the button, popping it open with deft fingers. “Move this way—yeah, there.” 

And when his fingers breach the seam of your underwear, your mind sings a soft praise of release, watching as his hand forces its way into the tight space, leaving him no other option but to cup your cunt with his full palm.

There was no turning back now. 

His middle finger drags through your folds testingly, matching the slow undulating beat of the song, like this was a game to him. You have no idea how to handle your hovering hands, too afraid to touch him, so they wrap around the headrest behind your head, fingers gripped tightly together.

Your legs spread wider, giving him better access—you were rutting into his hand at the shift of position, feeling that familiar tingle of pleasure as it shot through your body, mixed with the feeling of a bite of forbidden fruit, avoiding Eddie’s heated gaze as he shifted between you and the road.

It feels reckless and stupid, but you can’t find the courage to stop.

The first dip of his finger is like heaven, feeling unfamiliar after so long, despite how often you touched yourself, you couldn’t remember the last time there had ever been anyone else but you—not since the first summer after you graduated; freshly eighteen and naive, letting a much older man have you how he wanted—it’s uncanny, the situation your in now. But this, it doesn’t feel like that.

“Fuck—“ Your voice catches, stomach clenching at the curl of his middle finger as it slipped inside of you and back out, pace so insufferably slow, “—need more.”

“There she is,” He smiles to himself, confidence oozing in his tone, “—shit, you’re such a liar.”

It takes you a minute to realize that he’s not talking to you at all—which sends you down a different wave of emotions, pussy clenching around his lone finger, gasping at the way he curls it against the soft walls of your cunt, searching desperately for something out of reach.

“How long has it been like this?” He asks curiously.

Since the moment you met him, is what you want to say. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You reply breathlessly, back arching away from the seat, cunt pressing further against his hand as he slips a second finger inside.

At the lie, Eddie stops without warning, and it gives you a headache, that slow build of pleasure deflating immediately. 

“The truth,” He says, though, it’s more of a demand, “tell me.”

And fuck, if you weren’t putty in this man’s rough, calloused hands. 

“Since earlier,” You reply, rewarded with the soft brush of a fingertip over your clit, you quickly unzip your jeans to allow for more room, “when I saw you onstage.”

Eddie’s groan in response tells you everything you need to hear. He slows to a stop at a red light and it’s the first real glance you share with him the entire evening, both of you seeing straight through each other, bodies overran with pleasure. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” He says, and it seems a little late for a realization like that, you can’t help but laugh, “what—you think it’s funny?”

“You’re the one with your hand down my pants, sir.” You retort, earning a disciplined squeeze as he shoves his two middle most fingers back into your cunt, molding around him like glue.

“Sorry—I know you hate that word,” You say playfully, “But do you mind if I use it? Or, do you prefer professor?” 

It was your turn to play into the guilt he was feeling, though it didn’t seem to be concerning if he still had his hands shoved down your pants so willingly. 

“Shut up,” He forces out, swerving slightly at the way you cunt clenched around his fingers, insides fluttering as he curves his fingers wildly, grazing that sweet spot deep inside of you, “don’t call me that.”

His hands were larger than yours, making up for all the work you missed out on. 

“Too far?” You ask teasingly, knowing that was the least of your worries; all moral lines crossed, blurred, forgotten about entirely. Eddie’s fingers pull back to graze over the sensitive nub, rubbing in small, leisurely circles, “Fuck that—that feels—“

Your moan is so unashamed that it surprises you, hips bucking up into his hands as you nearly leapt out of the seat.

Eddie can’t take the suffering much longer, pulling off onto the winding side road, tucked into a nest of trees. He unbuckles his seatbelt, allowing fuller access as he turns toward you, switching his hands with practiced ease—you couldn’t even open your eyes, face drawn up in pleasure. You knew the moment you looked at him you were done for. 

“Look at me,” His voice echoes alongside the melodic tune of the song, his fingers matching the catchy beat—the damn music aficionado he was, toying with you, fingers strumming against your swollen clit like the strings of his guitar, “—I said, look at me.”

Your body works for you, eyes opening on instinct—his voice was rough, authoritative, leaving no room for argument. 

“Good girl—It’s what you wanted, right?” He asks with a semblance of a smirk on his face, “It’s why you came tonight?”

You laugh weakly at his words, double entendre, unable to go unnoticed, “As far as I’m concerned, no one’s came tonight.”

His eyes darken, shifting toward your cunt, covered by your clothes, his wrist poking out above the thin material of your underwear. 

“You can stop—stop acting like this is my fault,” You hiccup, gasping as he applies heavy pressure to your clit, rubbing steadily, hating how shameful it feels as your cunt clenches around nothing, wishing his fingers were still buried inside you. “Please—fuck, I just—“

All self restraint forgotten, you hand searches for his face, finding its way into his curls, pulling gently at the root, the softest hint of a grunt falling from his lips—the first noticeable sign all evening that he was even slightly affected by this—by you. 

And maybe you’ve gone too far, the idea of touching him is where things go wrong, but you can’t be bothered to hold yourself together anymore. 

“It’s okay,” He assures you, leaning over the middle console, hand working quickly against your cunt, moaning loudly into the confines of the car, ashamed at how wrecked you sound, “I like it.”

He must’ve noticed your expression, lingering on his face—you could do anything and he’d fall to his knees. 

“It hurts—“ You plead, begging for release, “—please?”

It sounds too pretty coming from you, deciding that putting you out of your misery was easier than watching you suffer, on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm, Eddie’s hands feeling so much better than your own, or anyone that’s touched you before. 

Your mouth hangs open on a wordless gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the force at which your high hits you, his fingers gently coaxing you through the descending pulse of your orgasm, near the point of over stimulation.

“Okayokay—“ You ramble, fingers wrapping around the length of his wrist as you pulled him away, heart skipping in your chest at the sight of his fingers flexing against your stomach as he pulls away, fingers covered in your wetness as a result of what just happened.

Your head rests against the back of the seat, chest heaving rapidly as you try to catch your breath. “Not that I’m complaining—“ Eddie’s voice pulls you out of your hypnosis, “but you might wanna let go.” 

“Shit—I’m sorry,” You apologize softly, letting go of his hair, looking at him sheepishly, hands returning to your lap to fix your pants. 

The song had ended long ago, the gentle rumble of the engine filling the quiet like an ambiance, realization settling between you both. 

Who speaks first? 

He’s quiet, wiping his hands on a black handkerchief that he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, before stuffing it into his back pocket—where it must’ve been all along. 

“I’m—“

“Should I—“

The stare you hold is long and tense, brimming with even more sexual tension than before, searching for some way to cope with whatever just happened. 

He glanced down at the hard bulge of his jeans, noticing the way your gaze catches. He shifts, pulling at the front of his jeans to adjust himself. “It’s fine.” He lies, not ready to allow this to go any further than it should have. 

“I don’t mind,” You reply slowly, voice hesitant as you lean forward, “I want to.”

He feels himself flex at the thought, the idea of your mouth—or even your hand, wrapped around, he was ruined. But, he’s insistent.

“I need to get you back to campus, right?” He asks, though the answer is obvious. It was a grasping at straw attempt to change the subject. “Red’s probably worried about you.”

Not a fucking chance.

“Yeah—you’re right.” You answer, trying to hide dejection, wanting nothing more than to touch him, as intimately as he had you. “We should go.”

It’s like he’s turning on his classroom demeanor before your eyes—and frankly, it’s ridiculous. He’s regretting every choice he just made and you know it, watching as he flips the gear into place, back on the road with one swift twist of the steering wheel. 

And it could’ve been the heat of the moment or the copious amount of drinks that Eddie had been offered that night, obscuring his rational thinking—but he didn’t reek of alcohol, not a single drop on his breath. So, if anything, it was regret, obvious and plastered over his entire face. 

But to Eddie, it's shame. 

Shame at the idea of breaking so many rules, risking his job at the hands of some young women—who he couldn’t help but be lured by, entranced at how much of an enigma you were. He couldn’t describe it, couldn’t even put it into words. 

And even after he drops you off that night, he comes in his hand, against the soft expanse of his stomach, the image of your face in his mind as you come apart by the work of his own hand. 

He knew there was no going back, allowing himself to fully succumb to the idea that if you were willing to let him have you like that, you’d let him do just about anything. 

It was exactly what you wanted. 

author's note: and an extra special thank you to @hellfirehoe for dealing with my nonstop horny thoughts about this and helping me proofread.