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#principal hawkins
cytryndor · 6 months
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„The Lady’s Improving” with Oliver and Charles send tumblr
„Oliver, it’s like a fantasy that I don’t want to have” would be iconic
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theautisticbarbie · 11 months
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JK Simmons as Principal Higgins
I did some AI renderings of JK Simmons as Principal Higgins and you all get the fruits of my labour. Prepare to be spammed with AI renderings!
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munson-blurbs · 12 days
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Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.
A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰
WC: 3.8k
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers
Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika
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“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”
“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”
You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down. 
“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”
He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.” 
He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them. 
“I’m serious.”
Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”
“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint. 
“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?
“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”
He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office. 
Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again. 
Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground. 
You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner. 
What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone. 
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Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl. 
Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates. 
“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”
Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”
You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.” 
“Really?”
“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”
Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around. 
Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.
The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe. 
Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves. 
“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing. 
“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination. 
Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though. 
A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.
“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman. 
Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction. 
You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen. 
Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone. 
The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”
“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”
A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”
Eddie smirks. “One…two—”
Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits. 
Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself. 
Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land. 
His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though. 
Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet. 
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?
Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk. 
In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside. 
Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit. 
“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”
“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you. 
“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”
“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds. 
“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”
“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”
“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”
He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”
“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so. 
“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”
A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”
“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”
“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”
Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”
“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”
He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey. 
All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—
A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”
“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”
“Don’t care.”
Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies. 
Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs. 
Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately. 
“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.” 
You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch. 
Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter. 
“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you. 
The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice. 
One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible. 
“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”
He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom. 
The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.
“Get the fuck out!” you hiss. 
Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.
Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.
“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.” 
Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them. 
Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”
You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind. 
“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”
“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle. 
A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”
“Only for you,” you echo. 
He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”
The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror. 
When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.
“Atta girl,” he praises. 
At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”
The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle. 
He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”
You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip. 
“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading. 
“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached. 
“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”
You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.” 
Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl. 
One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles. 
“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”
He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you. 
Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him. 
A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.
“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.
“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”
Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in. 
The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.
“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had. 
Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown. 
“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”
A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.
“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”
A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can. 
“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”
You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”
Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur: 
“You read my mind, Beautiful.”
--
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sserpente · 11 months
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By Chance
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Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.
The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.
The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.
The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…
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A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!
Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving
A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.
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The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.
You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.
“Cool bracelet.”
You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.
“Thank you.”
“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.
“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”
And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.
“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”
“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”
You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.
“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”
And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.
Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.
So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.
You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.
“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”
It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”
“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.
Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.
You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.
“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”
“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.
The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.
Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”
“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”
Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.
You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.
That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”
It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.
“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”
“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”
“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.
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You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.
Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.
“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.
The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.
“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”
“I don’t think she will.”
“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.
“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.
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“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.
“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.
It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.
Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.
“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”
“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.
As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?
Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”
“Sure. Bring it on.”
Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”
“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.
“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”
The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.
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Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.
His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.
His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.
Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.
He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.
He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.
Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.
It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.
“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”
You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”
“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”
You hummed.
But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.
“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.
“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”
“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”
You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.
“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.
“You wound me, sweetheart.”
“C’me here and prove it then.”
He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.
Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.
Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.
“I am craving ice cream right now.”
“You are?”
“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”
“At the mall?”
“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.
“We can always stop, you know that, right?”
“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.
You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.
“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.
You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.
It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.
Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”
The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.
Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.
After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.
And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.
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When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.
You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.
“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”
He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.
“What? You okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay but I need to get home.”
“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”
You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.
“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”
“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I’ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.
You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.
“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”
“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.
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You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.
At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.
You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.
“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.
“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”
“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.
“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”
Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”
“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”
Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”
“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.
“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”
“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”
“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”
“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.
Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.
“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.
“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.
Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”
Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”
“Both.”
In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.
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ratridingaskateboard · 5 months
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Always See Your Face
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New girl! Reader x Eddie
Summary: There is a new girl at Hawkins and Dustin will do anything to make sure Eddie doesn't find out.
Warnings: slight sexual innuendos, cursing, mentions of drugs. Y/N is described!
A/N: Hi! This is the first time I have written a fic in a while but I hope you enjoy it! Depending on the feedback I get from this I might write more :) FYI perspectives in this story will change and will be indicated by: --
--
Dustin had always been one to have his friends' best interests in mind. He might have overstepped boundaries at times but he knew what was best for him and his friends. Even though Eddie was several years older than him, he still knew that the last thing Eddie needed in his life was a girlfriend. What if he started hanging out with her and Hellfire stopped existing? What would happen with his band? Everything would go to shit because some girl would grab his attention for 2 seconds.
Dustin found himself every morning before school sitting in the back of Eddie's van with the back doors open. Eddie let them sit in the back and read comics while he would perform his drug deals for the kids who had extracurricular activities after school. Dustin looked up from his X-Men to observe a car he had never seen before. Strange, but not uncommon to see until he saw a figure he had never seen before.
She dawned a black denim jacket adorned with several Metal and Punk bands that Dustin would not be able to recognize but had seen in Eddie's vast cassette collection. Her legs were barely covered by a short red plaid schoolgirl skirt and her chest was wrapped in a Sex Pistols T-shirt. She was bending down to seemingly grab her backpack from her backseat and several football douchebags whistled at the response of seeing her backside. This did not catch her attention though as she quickly grabbed her backpack and placed it on the roof of her car. She glanced at Dustin and he felt himself gulp. Fuck- He was staring at Eddie's dream girl. He frequently heard Eddie go on tangents that no girl in Hawkins had the same interests as him. Now he proved himself wrong- Dustin could prove it with his own eyes. Not only did she have his style but she had a pretty face similar to that of one of the girls from one of Eddie's porn mags that Dustin had unfortunately found in his van. They both shared the same long brown hair and doe-shaped eyes.
What was Dustin going to do? Not only was this girl weirded out by the amount of time Dustin had been ogling her but she could ruin everything. She did not even understand the power she possessed by simply existing in the wrong place and at the wrong time. He had to do everything in his power to make sure neither of them saw each other.
Dustin's feet started to jog in her direction as she had already begun her strut to the front entrance of the school. Before Dustin could get the chance to tap her shoulder, she swiftly turned to face him, discomfort shown in her face.
"Hey man, I would really enjoy it if you could leave me alone." She barked.
"No no no! I don't mean anything bad by following you. I'm sorry for staring at you earlier but um... Oh! The principal had actually sent me to give you a tour of the school and to show you where your classes are!" Dustin had secured a good enough lie to not seem like the creep he was presenting himself to be.
Her eyes widened and her gaze softened.
"Oh, okay." She smiled and Dustin could feel himself getting more anxious knowing that she was that pretty when she smiled.
The bell began to rang, signaling to every student that it was time for Hell to begin. Dustin heard a familiar voice call out to Mike and he swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the school, making sure to avoid any possibly common route Eddie normally took.
"Can I see your schedule?" Dustin asked, giving out his hand eagerly.
It seemed like she could hear the annoyance in Dustin's words and swiftly pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. Dustin quickly looked over the paper and let out a sigh of relief. Even though she was a senior, she did not seem to have a single class with Eddie most likely because her classes were for the more advanced students.
"Okay, Y/N. This way!"
Dustin guided her to her first classroom, Mr. Stadford's Physics class, and said that he would meet up with her after her second. After the first period was over, Dustin ran to meet up with Y/N and to make sure he was able to beat her before she left the classroom. Yes, Eddie and her shared similar hallways for classes but Eddie had a tendency to be late to each and every class he went to. Alongside this, Dustin made sure that she was always early to her classes. This cycle repeated until lunch.
--
Y/N had found herself bound to the little curly-headed boy. She shouldn't say boy he was only a couple years younger than her. Moving was hard but going to a new school was even harder. Her parents' divorce could not have been more sudden and even though he had been a tad bit too eager, she really appreciated Dustin's kindness.
She frowned after exiting her third-period class to find no Dustin. Guess she would have to find the cafeteria by herself or simply follow the crowd that had corralled its way down the hall.
Once she entered the cafeteria, she felt the eyes on her, all over her. Thankfully, there were plenty of tables that had not recognized that fresh blood had entered their school. She saw a familiar head of curls bobble in laughter and she started her stride in his direction.
Once she had gotten to the table, it seemed to be filled with only boys all wearing the same T-shirt Dustin was wearing. She assumed it must be some sort of club he had not introduced her to yet. The majority of the boys had noticed her walk up to the table and she could tell they were not often approached by women. The only ones who hadn't noticed were Dustin and an older boy with long shaggy brown hair.
"Hey," She put her hand on Dustin's shoulder and her moved her head down to his level. "I know you showed me around and I might be asking for too much but is it alright if I sit with you?"
A look of dread filled Dustin's face as he looked up at her from his lunch. She had automatically assumed that he had felt bad for not escorting her to the lunch room.
"It's okay! I found the lunch room just fine." She rubbed his shoulder to put him at ease and sat down next to him.
There was nothing but silence.
She had felt as if she had sat at the wrong table and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Dustin was still agape and didn't seem to have changed his expression even after her reassurance. She turned to view the other boys at the table. They stared at her with a sense of confusion and wonder but all too awkward to speak first.
Finally, she turned to the boy sitting at the end of the table. His gaze softened when she gazed at him. His eyes were wide also in shock from a stranger sitting at their table but there was something different in his expression that she couldn't quiet read. Embarrassment? No. Confusion? No. Longing? Maybe but not quite.
This silence was cut short by a food tray plopping on the other side of Dustin.
"Jesus, that line was long!" A boy with a bowl cut sighed.
"Where are you guys so quiet?" He looked around in disbelief but immediately found the source when he spotted the brunette sitting on the other side of Dustin.
"Hey." She waved.
--
A/N: Depending on how things go with this I will definitely continue this as a series. Lemme know your thoughts!
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jaebeomsbitch · 9 months
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Cherry Lips (E.M)
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Pt II: in progress
Summary: Your childhood best friend steps up when your baby daddy skips town. Eddie had been with you through all stages of life, what's helping you through motherhood? Or Eddie Munson sucks out a clogged milk duct when you're in pain and eventually you finally sleep together
Pairing: Bestfriend! Eddie x Single Mom! Reader
Warnings: MINORS DNI, Titty sucking
A/N: Inspired by a reddit thread that I currently cannot find. Will update with link when I do. Smut next chapter!
You were knocked up by some stranger, a piece of shit who ran away as soon as you told him your one night stand ended in this, in the sweet baby girl. Luckily for you, your best friend Eddie was there every step of the way. He held you while you cried holding the pee stick, fuck he drove you to get it. He took you to every appointment, you eventually got tired of correcting the nurses that he wasn’t the father. 
You’d known Eddie for a long time. You were stuck at the hip since fifth grade, you can’t really pinpoint the day you became friends it just kind of happened. Your parents suspected he was your boyfriend, he was met with raised eyebrows when you first introduced him to your parents. After months of seeing you interact they grew maybe less suspicious or more like there was some unrequited love there. He looked at you like you were the sun in the sky and the waves in the ocean. You’d never really noticed or maybe you ignored it and Eddie was always too much of a coward to bring it up. Eventually the time passed where it became too awkward for him to say something…Say it, say anything really. You were friends for too long for him to finally come out with it so, he repressed those feelings. 
He slept around but never had a real girlfriend. Not that he didn’t want it, who doesn't want to have a partner? Who doesn't want to be beloved? His heart ached every time he saw you. Anytime he tried to date they didn’t want you around. They were always suspicious of you, of the way you touched him, the way you laughed around him but most importantly the way he looked at you. 
He held your hand as you gave birth to her, he yelled at your grip like the drama queen he is. His bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, his mouth nervously spilling out words. What words? Mostly gibberish with a bit of praise about how well you were doing. You couldn’t really internalize whatever the fuck was going on. You just wanted the pain to end, whoever said childbirth was a miracle… it was a miracle anyone fucking did it. But this was your cross to bear, you wanted nothing more to be a mother even if it meant this. If it meant you needed stitches to hold you together, even if you felt bloated, and you didn't sleep most nights. 
Eddie was a godsend, he didn’t need to step up. He was your best friend not the father, the father was somewhere in florida fucking anything with a hole, probably fucking up some other girls life. But Eddie was here, he practically moved in when you found out you were pregnant. He started working overtime and put a downpayment on a house. Eddie… your Eddie the guy who promised to leave Hawkins and never return to this shitty town took on a thirty year mortgage. He refused your money when you wanted to pay rent, said he needed to move out of Wayne’s a long time ago. He didn’t know you were secretly putting money into the principal loan every month as rent. 
He was there and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You loved him for as long as you could remember. A deep rooted seed of love in your heart was planted there since the first day you met him. Since that awkward, too loud, lanky boy bumped into you in the hallway. Your heart ached, it was agonizing. Maybe if you were a different person, if you weren’t so afraid of commitment things would be different. Maybe if you weren’t a coward this would be his baby. A part of you knew though, knew that he saw your beautiful baby as his. You saw it in the way he held her after she was born, the way his dimples adorned his face as he cooed at her, and the way he loaded her in the car checking the seatbelt eight times to make sure she was secure. 
He’d wake up in the middle of the night and change her when you were too tired. He’d come home tired and hold her to give you a break. You can still remember the day you built the nursery. He went with you to the supply store to help pick out the paint, his hand on your back as you argued about which color to paint the walls. The guy working the paint station looked at you both with a bored expression. It all felt too domestic, it felt normal. You couldn’t pinpoint why but you could pinpoint that dull throb in your heart when he mockingly told you wanted to paint the walls with piss because you wanted yellow. Eventually you both decided on white, Eddie got his way. He’d read in a manual that white was productive for babies… How? You didn’t fucking know but you couldn’t argue with him when he looked at you with those big chocolate eyes and pulled you around the store gently, his hand never leaving the small of your back. 
Every night a piece of you feels broken… more like something is missing. Like there’s a tug in your heart and it leads eight feet to the wall on your right. To those ugly gray sheets and black comforter. You pad around the kitchen as she sleeps. You try and make yourself some quick dinner before she wakes up for her meal. There’s a throb in your breast, they feel tender and swollen, something that isn’t unusual but something feels wrong. They ache and feel tight, just as you turn off the stove and grasp the counter Eddie walks in. 
“Honey I’m home~~” He sing songs quietly.
“Eds” You whisper harshly trying not to crumple into a heap as you grip your tender breast. You can hear the thuds of his work boots stomping towards you. 
“What’s wrong?” He says in a panicked voice watching your head hung down in pain. 
“I- I don’t know. It hurts” You say, trying not to cry. You couldn’t freak out right now.
“Where, where does it hurt sweetheart?” He whispers, eyes wide and full of anxiety. His hands reach for you, touching you all over trying to find the source as you gasp for air. The sharp pains in your breast only getting worse. 
“My breast hurt s’bad” You silently cry, your knuckles turning white as you grip the counter harder. 
“Woah,” He says, holding you as you sway, the pain becoming increasingly unbearable like a water balloon about to pop. 
“We have to go to the hospital, somethings not right Eds” You say looking up at him, your nails digging into his forearm. 
“Your breast hurts? I- I read something in the manual about this” He says hurriedly, watching as you tremble. 
“I think I can make it better. I think you've got a clogged milk duct. Fuck sweetheart, okay. I- I have to suck on your nipple,” He says, holding you closer to him bearing your weight. 
“W-what?” You ask, maybe you just hallucinated that. 
“Yes, women have their husbands suck the blockage out all the time. Trust me, It’ll make you feel better and if it doesn't work we’re rushing towards the hospital” He almost pleads as he watches your face scrunch up with pain. 
“Okay, j-just do it” You say, the pain increases more and more. You let of your breast as he lifts you onto the counter, one of his hands on your waist and the other quickly bringing your shirt down. He was used to seeing your breasts because you liked to breast feed but this was different. You can’t even think about it because his lips are engulfing your nipple and he's sucking hard. Your hand comes up to tangle in his hair, holding him in place. The pain hurts so bad, it feels like it's shooting into your skin but also like it could pop like an overinflated balloon. Groans leave your mouth, your fingers pulling at his scalp as he continues to suck on your nipple. Small tears leave the corner of your eyes squeezed shut. 
Finally a floodgate opens and the pain starts to slowly subside. The feeling of his lips around your breast becomes a little more apparent, you blink your eyes open as he pops off your breast. 
“Did it work?” He asks, his lips covered in saliva as some of your breast milk dribbles out. 
“Thank you,” You say, voice cracking as you feel the pain fading away. Your hands not leaving his hair. You become acutely aware of the way his thumb is comfortingly brushing your waist. 
“It’s okay, you’re alright now,” He says softly, wiping the tears away. He looks down for a second before covering you back up. You stay there for a second, his hips slotted in between your legs, your fingers in his hair, and his thumb dragging across your waist. Eventually you let go of his hair, maybe you realized the position you’re in. Eddie clears his throat, stepping back from you, “You okay? We can still go to the hospital and get you checked out” He says, those big puppy eyes looking at you with concern. 
“I’m okay now, thank you for… uhm doing that” You say, your cheeks painted with a blush as you feel your blood run up towards your cheeks. 
“No problem. Just let me know if you feel it again and I’ll help, okay? Don’t feel embarrassed” He gives you a small smile. Without you asking he helps you off the counter, his strong hands holding your hips as he places you down on the floor. He says something about needing a shower as he leaves to his room, stopping by to check up on the baby. 
You stay frozen, your knees weak at your interaction. Eddie was so effortlessly sweet, he’d spent months reading every baby manual he could find in the library. Anytime he was out of town he’d pick up a new one trying to find every tip and trick to help you. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to return to make dinner. Your thoughts full of Eddie, of the grip he had on you. How would his calloused fingers feel on your skin? How would his tongue feel against your sensitive nipples when you weren’t in pain? Fuck, no don’t imagine your best friend like this. He wasn’t your anything, he was just helping. 
You have dinner with Eddie, he tells you about all the new work gossip like nothing ever happened thirty minutes ago. Not that anything did happen, it wasn’t like he fucked you on that counter. No matter how many times you’ve imagined it before, especially the night he brought you here the first time… You were getting sidetracked again. You can’t help but notice the crinkles in his eyes as he laughs about something that happened at the shop or the way his hands move wildly as he tries to speak quietly. That is until there's a cry in the nursery, without taking a second glance at you he paces towards the room scooping up your daughter. You walk into the room watching as he rocks her “Shhh shhh, I’m right here honey. It’s okay” He soothes. 
“I think the little munchkin is hungry,” he coos in a baby voice turning towards you. You walk closer to them and grab her, she’s already suckling on the fabric of your shirt before you can pull it down. 
“Wow, we got an eager girl” Eddie laughs. We. You chuckle pulling down your shirt and adjusting her so she can latch on. Eddie looks away, “Need company?” He asks as you sit down on your nursing chair, he hands you a pillow to rest your arms on. 
“No it’s okay you’re probably tired. Get some rest” You say looking up at him. 
“But I haven’t seen my little pumpkin all day,” he pouts, fingers wiggling towards her. 
“Eds really, you don’t have to. You had a long day at work,” You say feeling guilty for relying on him so much. He waves his hand pulling up a seat and sitting down. 
“I want to hang out,” He says, yawning. You can see how tired he is, the way he’s already started trying to blink the sleep away but Eddie is stubborn. He sits there watching you both for a second but his eyelids get heavier and heavier until he falls asleep in the chair. You try to nudge him awake but he doesn’t wake. It isn’t until she’s finished eating and you've burped her that you are able to stand and wake him up. Your hand gentle on his shoulder as you shake him. 
“Eds, Eddie, time for bed,” You say softly. He groans, slowly cracking his eyes open, you caress his face, “Time for bed.” He nods his head, standing up at a snail's pace. He puts a kiss on her forehead and then yours before he stumbles into his room and crashes onto his bed. You stand there stunned, Eddie was affectionate sure but he’d never kissed your forehead. He was sleep deprived, that’s all that it was. Guilt gnaws at you, knowing he’s so tired because of you. Because his heart is too big and he’ll do everything in his power to help you even when he doesn’t have to. 
You spend some time getting her to settle down and fall asleep again before you leave the room. Your hand hesitates over the phone. It was late, like really late but you needed to tell someone how you felt. God, maybe you needed a therapist. Your fingers work over the buttons, you press the receiver to your ear as it rings, it doesn't click until almost the last ring. 
“Hello?” A sleepy voice says. 
“Robin, fuck sorry for calling so late,” You whisper. 
“No, it’s alright. I haven’t heard from you in a week. I was starting to get worried, "she says. 
“Rob… something fucking weird happened today,” You say, your heart pounding in your chest as you keep glancing over to his bedroom. 
“Oh my god is she okay? Do you want me to drive over there? I’m getting my bag,” She says frantically. 
“Robin, she’s completely healthy. Calm down,” You say in a hushed tone. 
“Oh thank God,” She breathes out. “What happened?” she asks curious as to why you’re calling her almost near midnight. You always called on her during the day. 
“Today… I guess I had a clogged milk duct and I didn’t know but that shit hurt like a mother fucker a-and…God this is so embarrassing,” You groan as silently as you can, not that Eddie could hear, he’s a very heavy sleeper except when it came to your baby’s cries. 
“Oh my god, this sounds juicy. Spill it out, bitch,” She says.
“Eddie sucked on it until it got unclogged” You whispered hurriedly. 
“WHAT,” Robin yells over the receiver. 
“Shh- shut the fuck up you’re gonna blow my ear drum out,” You say biting your nail. Your eyes keep flicking towards his bedroom like you're doing something you’re not supposed to. 
“Holy shit give me the play by play… Actually–. God I just know this is one of your depraved fantasies,” She laughs loudly. 
“Hardy har, I should give you a comedian of the year award. But… He literally pulled me onto the counter, whipped it out and started sucking like it was a normal thing to do. I was in so much pain I didn’t have time to freak out but I’m kind of freaking the fuck out,” You whisper.
“I do deserve an award. So you’re telling me he manhandled you and helped you… Girl that sounds like your wet dream. Weren't you always talking about–” Robin says.
“Shut the fuck up, this is serious! He acted normal when we had dinner but like… I mean he sucked my titty. Is that not supposed to be weird? Like it’s weird right?” You start pacing the kitchen. 
“Or are you making it weird? I think you’re overthinking it. Unless there's something else isn’t there? You like him, I mean everyone in fucking Hawkins thinks he’s your baby daddy anyway. What happened… Oh my god did you like it you dirty dog?” She gasps. 
“Yes, fine okay I sort of liked it and there was this moment,” You hush hurriedly. 
“A moment?” Robin is intrigued
“He didn't move after he helped. He was rubbing my hip until he knew I was okay, he asked me like forty times, and then he pulled me off the counter. Fuck and then he did the thing” You groan. 
“The thing?”
“He fucking went after the baby as soon as she started crying like it was out of instinct. Fuck Rob… I’m in too deep,” You sigh. 
“You wanna hear my opinion?” Robin says, you hum in response. 
“He’s had a massive fucking crush on you since like forever ago. Everyone can see it, he looks at you like you're the next coming of Jesus Christ,” She says
“No he doesn’t,” You immediately deflect. 
“Are you actually serious? He fucking bought a house for you. Eddie Munson, the guy who despises Hawkins, bought a house… for you. He comes home and takes care of your baby, he spends his days off with you two. When was the last time he’s even had a fling? Fucking two years ago? That man is in love with you, you’re just in denial and he’s just a coward,” She rips into you. 
“But what if he isn’t Rob? What if I tell him and he- he doesn't feel the same? I couldn’t live here anymore, fuck I couldn’t even look at him. I- I don’t know I’m just so fucking scared of losing him….” You feel the tears in your eyes spring forward. 
“Hey, hey no one is holding a gun to your head and forcing you to tell him but I’m glad you finally admitted it. I just want you to know that I’m a thousand percent sure he’s fucking more than head over heels for you. He’s like stupidly in love with you… You could have the dream life. The white picket fence, the husband, you know the whole shebang if you just told him.” She sighs. 
“I don’t know Rob. I need him in my life, I can’t fuck this up. He’s like the sun and I’m just some shitty little weed that’ll wilt and die if he’s gone,” You say, trying to get rid of the tightness in your throat. 
“Hey you are not a fucking weed. You are a fucking Magnolia, this huge tree full of love and life. Don’t sell yourself short or I will drive the ten hours there and personally kick your ass,” She scolds. 
“How does one impersonally kick someone's ass?” You laugh. Robin always knew how to make you feel better.
“Don’t change the subject. Now you have to confess your sins. Since when did you start liking him?” She asks like you’re still in high school. 
“Ugh you’re annoying. Uhh… I don’t know I think I always did but it became like a thing in sixth grade. We were at this stupid party, I don’t know why my parents let me go. It was just like a bunch of tweens jacked up on soda playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven and I had to kiss some random guy. I kept wishing, praying, hoping it landed on him and it kind of clicked. God and he was so fucking weird looking back then too. Like his arms were too long for his torso,” You laugh. 
“Oh? You’ve been holding out. Now I gotta see some photos of you two back then,” Robin laughs imagining how Eddie looked back then. 
“I was worse, I was going through a weird bangs combed over phase and I had these big chunky glasses. Ugh I don’t even want to think about it,” You groan. Then there's a cry in the nursery, “Shit I gotta go. I’ll talk to you tom- today and you can catch me up on your date. Alright byeeee,” You rush. You hear a faint “Bye” as you put the phone on the hook and walk back towards the nursery.
866 notes · View notes
hellfirenacht · 7 months
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Dress Code
Summary: It's too damn hot to be wearing your Hellfire Club shirt, unfortunately the rest of the club disagrees. One Shot. Reader x Eddie if you squint
Tags: @ali-r3n @crocworkships @maxstecc
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Summer in Hawkins wasn’t usually terribly hot, at least it wasn’t as bad as it could be when inside. You had hoped that school would have given you some relief from the heat, but to your dismay (and to the dismay of many other students at the school, there were certain classrooms that were now without a/c, and of course your classes coincided with a fair bit of them. Great. 
It was Friday, and on Fridays you were required to be in uniform. That was hardly ever a problem, Eddie wasn’t terribly picky. As long as you were wearing the Hellfire Club shirt he was happy, or at least wouldn’t say anything. But today the cotton fabric irritated your skin, and only served to add more insulation to your already uncomfortably hot body with its longer sleeves. 
By the time lunch rolled around, you had given up the shirt, stuffing it in your bag and changing into a lighter weight t-shirt you kept in your locker for emergency situations.You grabbed your lunch and made your way over to the usual table where your club would sit, taking a seat across from Gareth who’s eyes flicked to your shirt and then to your face. There was a smirk on his smug little mouth that made you roll your eyes. 
“Not a word, Emmerson.” you grumbled, picking at your food. Maybe if you stayed at the end of the table away from Eddie, he wouldn’t notice your betrayal of the club. Not that you were afraid of Eddie, but he could admittedly make you, perhaps, just a little nervous at times. And that totally did not have anything to do with the attraction you felt for him. Totally not. 
“I give it three minutes before he notices.” Gareth replied as Zack and Jeff made it to the table. Zack sat next to you, while Jeff took his usual seat next to Gareth. It wouldn’t be long before Eddie showed up now, taking his place at the end of the table. 
“You’re out of uniform.” Jeff said, looking over at you. “And you look like shit.” 
“Shut up, Jeff.” 
You wished you had a jacket or something to throw on, but that would also defeat the point of now wearing your Hellfire shirt. It was too damn hot and you have no idea how the others were able to wear theirs without burning up. You’d felt like shit all day, and even looking at your lunch was making you lose your appetite. 
A thump at the end of the table made you jump as Eddie dropped his lunchbox. You leaned back a little bit to gauge his mood. There was a frown on his face and his brows were furrowed as he opened his lunch. Shit. He looked pissed today, and Gareth had a shit eating grin as he glanced at you. 
“Don’t” you mouthed to him and shook your head. He simply shrugged, already knowing that you were gonna be caught. This was such bullshit, you were getting all worked up and worried about getting in trouble for a club that the school liked to pretend didn’t even exist! 
You felt for the guy, most of his classes were a moot point, and he really only needed to pass three more to graduate in May, and Ms. O’Donnell’s science class was known for being one of the hardest teachers in school. Eddie swore up and down that Principal Higgins put him in her class on purpose to flunk him and make him drop out. You suspected that he was right. 
“You okay, Eddie?” Jeff asked while you angled your body behind Zack so that it was less noticeable what you were wearing.
“Ms. O’Donnell has it out for me, I swear.” Eddie grumbled. “I swear, she’s a drill sergeant with all these damn pop quizzes she keeps springing on us.”
“You should get a tutor.” Zack suggested as Dustin and Mike showed up and dropped their trays on the other side of you. You met Mike’s gaze and his eyes went wide and he immediately looked away. Jesus, these freshmen were so dramatic. No one looked up to Eddie more than Mike and Dustin, the kids loved him. It was cute. Sometimes. 
Dustin had the good sense to just give you a normal greeting, knowing better than to point out what was already known to everyone in Hellfire except for Eddie. Actually, the tension for this was starting to build up as Eddie ranted about how he’s tried tutors but no one would give him the time of day anyway. 
If you were better at science, you’d offer but you already know that you and Eddie would be at each other's throats trying to figure out whatever O’Donnell was teaching. You already butt heads enough during Hellfire. 
You kept quiet as Eddie ranted for a few more minutes. You pulled a book out of your bag, pretending to read as your lunch went untouched. There was the beginning of a headache starting to make itself known, and you were heavily considering skipping gym next period. Normally you’d ask if you could crash in Eddie’s van for an hour in cases like this but you had a feeling that you’d have to either go to the nurse's office or find another place to hide this time. 
If this was a better day, you might have been able to keep your head down and avoid Eddie’s attention, ironically being the opposite of what you would have considered to be a good day. But it was not a good day, because it was a million degrees out, the a/c was busted in all your classes, you felt tired and gross, and Gareth just loved to stir the pot. 
“Hey Zack, can you throw this away for me?” he asked, handing over his empty soda can to the man beside you. If looks could kill, he’d be a pile of ash and dust as Zack got up to toss the garbage into the nearest trash can. 
You wished that you could shrink and disappear into the chair, but no such luck. It was at this time that Eddie finally noticed you, and you watched as his neutral expression of greeting shifted to one of annoyance. Usually, you found his expressiveness funny and endearing, but not this time. The energy of the table immediately shifted as all eyes were on you and Eddie. 
Shit. 
“Where’s your shirt?” Eddie asked, his large brown eyes boring into you. He was already in a pissy mood, and normally you’d stop yourself from pushing his buttons, but the pounding in your head was growing more insistent. 
“In my bag.” you replied in the same short tone as him. The rest of the club didn’t move, except for Zack who went back to his seat, looking around and wondering what happened. 
“You’re supposed to be wearing it. It’s Friday.” Eddie leaned over to look at you and Zack leaned back, not wanting to be the wall between you two. 
“I’ll wear it at Hellfire, Eddie. It’s fine.” you sighed, not wanting to fight about this right now. 
“Everyone else is wearing theirs, why aren’t you?” He wasn’t going to let this go. He flunked a pop quiz and had to feel some form of control. It was written all over him. 
“Because, Edward, it is a million degrees out and I feel like I’m melting.” Your eyes narrowed. 
“Yeah, but the rest of us still managed to wear ours!” Eddie looked super annoyed now, the frown lines on his face accentuated by the comically deep frown he was wearing. He hated being called anything other than ‘Eddie’, ‘Eds’, or ‘oh great and powerful DM’. You liked to use the last one when you were about to do something stupid in the campaign. 
“Eddie’s right, you know. We’re all wearing our shirts.” Gareth smirked and you almost threw your uneaten sandwich at him. 
“Well, you see, I was worried that if I wore mine all day I’d end up at club smelling like you and I didn’t want to suffocate everyone while playing.” you snapped. From beside you, Dustin snorted and Eddie gave you a warning look. 
“You know the rules, you agreed to them when you joined us.” Eddie reminded you. 
“Edwin it’s 90 degrees outside and most of my classes don’t have a/c!” you looked at him, feeling more exhausted by the minute. “If I put my shirt on, I’ll die of heat stroke before 7th period.”
He might have caved, he really might have if you hadn’t called him that. Eddie wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but as the leader of Hellfire he had to maintain some sort of order to keep his “little sheepies” safe. One of the perks of Hellfire was the protection that came with it. It didn’t stop all the bullies, but at least most of them would avoid messing with you all too much because they were convinced Eddie might snap one day. 
But you called him Edwin, and were challenging him, and you were fighting with Gareth again, and he already flunked another pop quiz. 
The two of you locked eyes, holding each other's gaze intently. The pounding in your head only grew worse, but you didn’t feel like backing down. This was so stupid, it was just a shirt! Yeah, this club was important to you, it was important to everyone here. So why did you have to-
“Can you just put your shirt on?” Mike finally said, and you and Eddie looked at the freshman, and he rubbed his face. “The a/c’s working in here, you’ll be fine.”
You honestly started to feel like you could cry from the stress of being ganged up on like this. 
“Yeah, but I’m so hot she might still get pit stains” Gareth jabbed with a smirk and you made a disgusted face. 
“Fine.” you finally grumbled and pulled the crumpled shirt out of your bag. You gave it a shake and threw it over your head like a scarf, not pulling it on all the way and leaving your arms out. “Happy?” you shot at Eddie. 
He wasn’t, you didn’t think anyone was happy with this honestly. But you were still burning up, everyone was staring at you like you were a kid throwing a tantrum, and as much as you loved Eddie, you were pissed that he didn’t even hear you out. 
But he was done arguing and leaned back in his chair. At least now he’d leave you alone about the stupid shirt. You leaned back in your chair as well, grabbing your book and tried to read for the rest of lunch. You couldn’t focus though, finding yourself reading the same lines over and over again while your head ached. If today had been different you’d be able to ask Eddie if he had anything that would help, but no such luck. 
“Are you gonna eat that?” Jeff asked, pointing to your lunch. When you shook your head and pushed your lunch box towards the center of the table, everyone reached out to lay claim to your forgotten lunch. 
You could feel Eddie’s eyes on you, and you angled your body away from him. By now, you were starting to heavily consider finding a sub for the game and going home to just sleep. You found yourself with your forehead resting against the cool wood of the table until the end of lunch when the bell rang, and you decided to just head towards the nurse. You only bothered saying bye to Dustin and Zack, who had been the only ones to mind their own business. 
You missed how Eddie’s expression had softened when you left the cafeteria.
It took the nurse all of three minutes to declare that you were running a high fever and that this wasn’t just a headache caused by the lack of a/c. Well, that explained a lot. Being old enough, the nurse said that you were free to go home and get some rest. Looks like you’d be missing Hellfire after all, and you wouldn’t even be able to tell them why you couldn’t show up. Maybe that would piss Eddie off so much he’d go full sadistic DM. 
Maybe he’d even kill off Gareth the Great. 
No, you’d never actually be that lucky. 
You slumped your way back to your locker, haphazardly grabbing books that you think you might have homework for and shoving them in your bag. The weight of your backpack only added to the exhaustion and fatigue that was quickly gaining up on you. You always got sick like this; perfectly fine until you weren’t. 
As you made your way to the parking lot to your car, the heat of the day was at its peak, beating down on you. You groaned and made your way to the car, throwing your bag in the back seat. 
“Running away?” Came a voice from behind you, and you didn’t even fully register it until there was a shadow behind you. You slowly turned around to see Eddie looking down at you with his head tilted. 
“Eddie?” your voice was quiet and exhausted. You’d already used the last of your energy of the day fighting with him and you didn’t have it in you for another round. 
“Jesus, what happened to you?” he reached out and pressed a hand to your forehead. You couldn’t help but lean forward at the touch, somehow his hands felt like ice in this heat and it felt good. 
“Overheated ‘cause I had to wear a dumb shirt.” you grumbled, and his hand dropped. You looked up at him, and he looked as though he’d been slapped, Guilt washed over his features and it was a little bit satisfying. “Kidding. Nurse said I have the plague and to go home before I infect the school. Says she’s never seen anything like it, and it’s probably a new virus that’ll probably kill me by the end of the weekend.”
Eddie always looked cute when his head tilted in exasperation. “Are you good to get home?” he asked. 
You gave a shrug. “Not like I have a choice. Also, why are you out here? You should be in class, Edmond.”
He ignored the name, knowing that this wasn’t a hill to die on today. “I’m skipping.” he said simply. “It’s just class presentations, and I wasn’t in the mood. I won’t be missed.”
“I’d miss you.”
Oh, you hadn’t meant to say that out loud with your actual mouth. That was supposed to be an inside thought. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, neither of you sure what to say. 
Eddie’s laugh broke the silence, “You’d be the first to care if I was at class or not.” he said.
“Yeah well, at least when you’re around I have someone to talk to.” You relaxed a bit, rubbing your face. 
There was another moment of silence and Eddie reached out towards you. You stared blankly, wondering what the hell he was doing before he pulled the Hellfire shirt off your shoulders. 
“I was a douche.” Eddie finally said, looking at you. “I was pissed and I took it out on you. I should have dropped it. I’m sorry.”
You hadn’t expected an apology from him. At least, you hadn’t expected one so soon. 
“The a/c’s out in the B wing.” you said as Eddie handed you back your shirt. 
“Yeah, I could smell it all the way from the library.” he gave you a half smile. He was fidgeting, moving from one foot to the other. He never could stay still, even if his life depended on it. 
“Smelled like Gareth in second period.” you laughed. 
Eddie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and grabbed the back of your head, rocking it back and forth for a moment before dropping at your shoulder again. 
“Let’s get you home.” he said. “I’m not letting you drive like this. You’re gonna get yourself killed if you pass out behind the wheel.”
“I think my driving is still marginally safer than yours.” you laughed, leaning against him. “Seriously, how did you even get a license?” 
“Trade secret.” He led you to his van and you hopped in the passenger side and buckled up. You left your books in your own car but at this point you didn’t give a shit. 
“You’ll need to take me to school on Monday if I’m leaving my car.” you slumped into the seat. “Assuming I don’t die to death.”
“You can still talk, so you still have hit points. You’ll live.”
In a nicer fantasy, this would be a pleasant and relaxing drive home. Eddie would effortlessly get you home safe, while you dozed in the passenger seat, and he'd and carry you inside and lay you in bed. But this was not your day dreams, and Eddie will always be Eddie. He drove like a maniac down the street to avoid any teacher or truant officers from telling you to not leave school grounds, even though you two were legally adults. You were jostled around as he took sharp turns and your headache returned with full force at the loud music he was playing. You normally didn’t mind his heavy mental mixes but Jesus, he was not reading the room right now. By the time he pulled up to your place, you assumed it was a miracle that you were still alive. 
“You ran that last stop sign.” you said.
“It’s only illegal if you get caught.” he smiled wide at you. 
“Okay, well I’m going to contemplate my own mortality.” you snorted, opening the door, but his hand gently grasped onto your arm. 
“Are we good?” he asked, and you slowly nodded. “Yeah. I- we’re good. I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“Good. Good.” Eddie nodded. “Well, feel better okay? I need to go not-be-missed in seventh period.”
You turned and leaned over, hugging him close. “Give my germs to Mike and Gareth.” you whisper just as he wrapped his arms around you. 
“Jesus Christ. If you get everyone sick I’m taking away every magic item you have.” Eddie groaned and you responded by kissing his face, feeling the faint prickly stubble on his jaw. “Hey!”
You turned back and opened the door again, flipping him off as you walked towards your door. You turned to look at him before you stepped inside, seeing him laugh and shake his head. He flipped you off too before tearing off back down the street to get back to school. 
A week later, you would arrive in the cafeteria again where the boys all had their shirts lazily thrown over their heads, only resting on their shoulders.  
--
Part 2
754 notes · View notes
word-wytch · 6 months
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Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 15
Eddie x Teacher!Reader
Chapter 15/? 10k. Series Masterlist
✏︎ The aftermath of a kiss makes thoughts come alive — both desires and fears. 
✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.
While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.
✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)
✏︎ Chapter CW: smut 18+ (imagined oral f!receiving, piv, creampie), cumming in pants, angst
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Wednesday, December 11th 1985
The flag was whipping in the wind. Towering above the parking lot in a blur of red, white, and blue, it cracked against the pale grey sky. 
Meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror, you checked for any obvious signs of guilt. The harsh morning light made it clear what you’d missed in your haste to leave. You thought you had gotten it all, but the mascara resting in the lines beneath your eyes said otherwise. Truthfully, washing your face had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled home after midnight, and it was clear you needed more than the five minutes you allotted this morning in front of the sink. After sleeping through your alarm, it was a miracle you were here at all. Swiping your knuckles across the bags under your eyes, you figured that would have to do.
With a final, bracing sigh, you opened the door and slumped into the freezing cold. Slamming the door, you marched across the snow-dusted pavement and hiked the heavy leather strap onto your shoulder. Students scattered around you with bright colored backpacks, rushing from their cars toward the squat, concrete building that loomed on the horizon. Eyes steeled on the glass doors ahead, you swallowed a sickness rising up from the pit of your stomach. Pebbles crunched under your boots as you dodged glances, offering little more than a timid smile and a raise of your hand at the greetings hurled your way. 
Pulling open the chilled metal handle, that school smell—indescribable yet unmistakable—gusted hotly over your numb cheeks. The office was abuzz with shrill ringing phones and gently chiding voices. Eyes glued to the long, grey weather mat below, you approached the clock-in station.
“Good morning!” the receptionist greeted cheerfully at the back of your head. 
“Morning, Judy,” you offered weakly, selecting your punch card from its wooden slot on the wall. With a shaking hand, you slotted the index card into the machine, lining it up with this week’s row of black-inked numbers. It snapped to life, stamping today’s date in a crooked line beneath the rest. 
Tucking your thumb under the strap, you trudged along your usual path, raising your eyes just enough to see where you were going. Fluorescents danced over the polished tile, over the shimmering salt-stained boot marks and stray pebbles you were suddenly so captivated by. Past the glass trophy cases, inside the cafeteria, you crossed the row of principal portraits from years prior outside the teachers lounge. It was difficult to look at them today, the judgement painted so clearly on their features from inside their thick, ornate frames. Their eyes seemed to follow you as you passed. Dodging their scorn, you ducked inside the door.
Your soles met the padding of the threadbare carpet, marching toward the one thing you truly depended on, stationed at its post on the end of the long, veneer table — the coffee machine. The room was spinning with activity, a bustle of chatter you hoped you could hide in. Most were on their way out, making small talk and gathering belongings from their seats at the round tables. Your skirt swished forward as you halted before the machine, tapping the cuff of your tall boots. Grabbing a mug from the stack, you filled it with haste.
You wondered if anyone could smell it on you — the cigarette smoke that clung to your coat. Shrinking down into your turtleneck, you sidestepped to return the pot to the warmer. 
“Good morning,” stated a voice behind you with cold professionalism. 
The plastic slipped in your hand, coffee hissing against the metal plate as you fumbled it into place. “Principal Higgins! H-hi—good morning!” 
She always terrified you, even as a student here. Even before last night. Standing all of about four foot ten, her stern, nun-like demeanor and white cloud of hair remained consistent with your memory, as if she had reached a point in her aging where she just plateaued.
“How are you?” she asked. Not as though she really cared, just as something polite to say.
Whipping around as the blood drained from your face, you addressed her. “Good! I’m good. Just getting things wrapped up for the semester. You know how it is.” 
She nodded curtly. “Glad to hear,” she answered, though nothing about her expression seemed glad.  It never did. You thought you saw her smile once in September, but it could have been a trick of the light. Smiling weakly at the floor, you dipped around her and shuffled toward the open milk carton. The air was thick and stuffy, filling your lungs in shallow draws. Peeling back the soggy cardboard, you swallowed your hammering pulse. 
“Hey stranger,” Diane greeted warmly, grabbing a mug from beside you. “You ready for winter break yet?” 
Fixed on the coffee as the milk swirled like smoke, you couldn’t find the courage to meet her eyes. “I’ve been ready since October,” you admitted through a strained chuckle.
Diane tipped her head back, laughing into the fluorescents. “Oh man I feel ya, I’ve been counting down the days myself.” Steam rose from her mug as she filled it.
There must have been a sign on your back. Something like kick me. A bump from behind had you lurching into the table, sloshing coffee over the rim. Snapping your head over your shoulder, you glared at the culprit. 
“Jeez it’s crowded in here,” muttered Ms. O’Donnell as she lumbered over to the coffee machine. “Everyone mingling like a flock of hens, you’d think we’d all have places to be by now.”
With a sharp sigh, you grabbed a handful of flimsy napkins from beside the sugar. Diane glanced in brief annoyance before reaching through your line of sight for the milk carton. “So, did you catch Cheers last night?”
You froze, heat creeping up the collar of your coat as the coffee bled through the paper. Images of sweating glasses on cocktail napkins and plush lips clouded your vision as you blotted up the mess with a trembling hand. “No I uh, turned in early I’m afraid.” Your stomach curdled with the lie.
“Aww, well you’ll have to catch it on re-run because it was a good one. I won’t spoil anything,” Diane said, bringing the mug to her lips as she leaned against the table. 
Grabbing the handful of warm, soggy napkins, you pivoted to toss them in the trash. Finally, she caught you with her eyes. Rich umber, deep with caring and kindness, captive for anyone who needed a good listener, for you on so many occasions. Diane was good like a cashmere cardigan, like a box of tissues passed across a desk. Your eyes met the floor again quickly, heat rising in your face. You shuddered to imagine what she’d think if she knew. 
The room became a blur of scooting chairs, of vending machines whirring, of crackers and candy dropping into the bins below. Metal flaps whined and slammed as hands reached in to grab them. It was closing in on you — the copy machine ink wafting warmly across the room as it spat out stacks of tests, the hole punchers clicking and binders snapping open to devour papers with their jagged maws. You stood there in the middle of it all, spinning like you’d stepped out of a carnival ride.
Diane leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “You ok?”
Blinking rapidly, you snapped back to attention. “Yeah—yeah I’m fine.” 
Folding her arms across her sweater, she knit her brows in disbelief. As the school counselor, it was her job to see through bullshit, and she was good at her job. Before she could comment, the bell had your stomach lurching. “I have to go,” you said with as much of a casual farce as you could muster. “I’ll see you later.” You grabbed your mug, shielding your face with it as you sipped off the top before vanishing into the hallway.
-
The AV cart was heavy despite its wheels. Avoiding your tired reflection in the glass of the large television, you braced the metal frame and peered around it, marching carefully down the crowded hallway. At least you had something to hide behind now. 
There were footsteps all around you, weaving to accommodate the metal mass as you trudged slowly forward. What became unignorable was the set behind you, shuffling down the hall at an increasing speed, growing louder as they neared. Eddie halted just behind your shoulder, bumping it slightly in his haste. “Hey,” he breathed in your ear, curls tickling your cheek.
Sucking in a breath, you whipped your head around to meet his crinkling eyes. If he had a tail, he would be wagging it. “Eddie,” you hissed. “Get—” you elbowed him away, heart pounding into your temples as a hundred eyes passed by around you. 
He didn’t seem phased. Hovering at an uncomfortable proximity, his focus stayed glued to you as if the rest of the world had fallen away. “Here,” he offered, reaching over to take the reins. The meat of his palms grazed your knuckles; warm and pliant like you remembered them. 
“I’ve got it,” you insisted, gaze dutifully forward, gripping the metal frame firmly.
“Come on, let me help,” he muttered, leather forearms insisting against yours as he tugged the cart in his direction.
Face fully on fire now, you released your grip, repelling with a twinge of remorse from the solid contact of his shoulder. Head darting left and right, you scouted for faculty, keeping a steady pace beside him. Not so close as to draw suspicion, but close enough to feel his magnetism prickle your awareness. His fingers pinked under his rings, knuckles white in his grip as the strong angles of his hands kept the cart from veering. “It’s um—” Eddie started, dipping his head toward your ear again, “good to see you again,” he uttered with a fervency that could have evaporated you.
“Happy Wednesday!” chimed Ms. Click as she waved you down from outside her door. 
The blood drained from your face. Raising a trembling hand, you returned a weak smile before locking your vision on the end of the hall. It was closing in again; the lockers, the voices, the squeaking of wet boots against the tile. There was the potent scent of cigarettes, fresh on his hair like the snowflakes that clung to his curls. They were melting, dripping down his wild ringlets onto his shoulders with every step. It was beautiful, the way they bounced and swayed in the wind as he walked. The way the droplets settled in the wrinkles of his leather coat. The way it tapered toward his narrow waist. As he braced the cart, you selfishly admired the angles of his shoulders — broad and capable. Selfishly, you wondered what else they could accomplish, how they would feel, bare under your palms. Crossing your arms coyly over your turtleneck, you snatched your mind from the gutter.
Eddie lolled his head toward you, peering under heavy lids. His smile was lazy and generous, brimming with boyish glee. “God you look pretty today,” he sighed. Your uterus beat your stomach to a backflip. 
Halting outside the door to your classroom, you turned to face him. “Eddie, we can’t—” your desert mouth hung open as those soft umber eyes ushered your words into the din.
“I’m allowed to talk to you,” he asserted, shifting to the fullness of his height as he dropped his hands from the cart. 
“Not like that. Not here,” you corrected, just above a whisper. 
Brow lowering, he swiped his coat aside to access his hip, resting his hand above the chain that dripped toward his thigh. It was suffocating — the heat from his gaze, from your turtleneck, from the thoughts hammering like pinballs against the inside of your skull. 
“Listen, I just…” you swallowed, “it’s just—” you glanced around, meeting the waves and bright hellos that passed through your door with a vacant smile before lowering your voice, “—hard to be back here today.”
Eddie tipped his head forward, shifting on the balls of his feet with a subtle nod. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
You huffed through your nose, eyes pleading with him as you shrank toward your door.
“I’ll see you later,” he promised, drifting in by an invisible tether with every inch you moved away. 
“Yeah.” Your exhale was heavy, lingering in his gaze for an aching second before ducking through the threshold. 
______
The static from the television prickled your forehead as you rewound the tape, fussing with the buttons on the VHS player seated on the shelf below it. The screen fizzled grey as as your fourth period class filed in, shuffling feet and relieved exclamations echoing behind you as they passed.
You could have left it alone and walked away, but you would take any excuse not to face them today. Leaning against the cart as you stared into the crackling static, that telltale scent wafted in on the air, tugging at memories of smoke rings and stage lights, filling you with equal parts dread and aching familiarity. You could see his silhouette out of the corner of your eye; tall and dark with a halo of frizz, boots heavy against the tile as he approached you. Swallowing your rising pulse, you couldn’t help but indulge for a second, shifting just enough to catch the soft pink of his smirk before his shoulder nudged yours in passing. Desks squeaked against the floor behind you, yielding to the weight of twenty students as they filled the five tidy rows. When the bell finally rang, you shut the door and mustered the courage to address them.
None of your classes were studying To Kill A Mockingbird. Irrelevant as it was to your lessons, you would excuse it to all of them by citing it as a great example of storytelling. Weak, but it was the best you could come up with on such short notice. You doubted anyone cared, they all seemed just as relieved as you were for a break from the fluorescents. 
You flicked off the lights and pressed play on the VCR. The room was bathed in white and blue as the opening credits rolled, and you took your place behind the big desk. Propping your head wearily against your hand, you stared down at the sea of white below you. Eyes unfocused, black ink and graphite chicken scratch blurred together as a different film played out behind them. 
The set was dramatically lit; a spotlight of interrogation that beamed down on your small chair facing Martha Higgins’ desk. The props were hyper-realistic; files she flipped through with her spindly, arthritic fingers containing your teaching license and contract for the year. The prominent lines on her forehead were growing increasingly severe as she considered the delivery of your inevitable punishment. 
A jungle of items framed the papers that sprawled across your real desk — the spider plant Susan had given you when the leaves were beginning to blush with oranges and reds, the stapler you’d had since college, the mug with a quill printed on it which now held your pens. You wondered what it would feel like to pack them all into a banker box in the middle of a winter afternoon. To lug it down the hallway, dodging the scorn of your former colleagues. With a heavy sigh, you buried your spinning head in your hand.
Eddie was seated as he always was, cheek pressed to his knuckles as he watched you from his corner of the room. A straight shot toward your desk in front of him, he gazed with reverence as the white light from the television bathed your one exposed cheekbone in a holy glow. Picking at the chipped veneer on the desk with his restless thumb, he recounted the feeling of it in his hands. The angle of your jaw, the notch where it met below your ear, the soft skin of your throat that hummed beneath the pads of his frozen digits, warming them to life with every swell and swallow as his mouth enveloped yours. He’d played it over and over the whole drive home, every moment since he’d opened his eyes this morning, convincing himself with every replay that it wasn’t a dream. 
He’d gotten a taste. Not enough to satisfy him — the opposite really. Like first bites often did, it only brought awareness to his hunger. The light played softly on your stiffened jaw. How he ached soothe it with his lips again, to feel the hard bone under supple skin, to hear and taste your sighs again; more moving than any music he’d ever heard. 
The darkness gave quiet permission for his mind to play a film of its own. In this one, the room would be the same. Just as dark but empty, save for you and him. He would scale the isle in five swift steps. Lifting your worried chin with his knuckle, he would draw you to the fullness of your height, capture your body in his arms and pull you into a searing kiss. He knew what it felt like now, and that only fueled his wild imagination. He knew you’d melt like putty, let him be the only thing holding you together, keeping you from falling to the floor with the strength of his arms around your soft cotton waist. 
He had memorized the shape of your lips, how slick with hunger they were as they slipped against his. Your hums would be quiet here, timid and shy as you glanced over his shoulder toward the door with worried eyes. On this set there were no real hallways, no extras making noise or slamming lockers. Nothing in the script suggesting an interruption, only the pretend risk that made a thrill rise in him like the tent in his jeans. The way you would shyly toy with the pins on his vest, insisting that “we shouldn’t,” and “it’s just not right.”
You wouldn’t protest for long, not in this script. Not when his teeth found your neck again, dipping down below the collar of your turtleneck. It was a nuisance really, nothing but a sponge for his spit as his tongue soothed over where his teeth left off. You would be needing it later because he would leave a mark this time. Several, tasting every moan you offered as he sucked bruises onto your delicate skin. He hadn’t tasted nearly enough of you, hadn’t felt nearly as much as he’d wanted. 
Closing his eyes, he surfaced a touch-memory; the shape of you beneath your coat. He imagined the slope of your waist in his hands as it looked like today; where the cotton met the wool of your skirt, heaving against his palms as he left his sloppy trail. Impatiently, he would free you from the confines of it, tug at the cotton and greet your warm, soft flesh with his aching fingers. You, of course, would give him full permission to remove it once you felt the insistence of his touch, felt his thumb drag over the small of your back, across that dip he caught a glance of last night. 
Tugging the cloying barrier up and over your head, he would shield you from the door with his body, letting the mass of the AV cart block any eyes wandering the hall from what he was about to do next. In the soft, flickering light from the television, your chest would rise and fall, spilling over from your white lace bra as it heaved in anticipation. 
The real you sank deeper into your chair. Shoulders slumped, shielding your eyes with your knuckles as you stared blankly down into the sea of papers. There was a heat emanating from the back corner of the room, one you could feel with the crown of your head. You knew exactly where it was coming from, and from whom. Hesitant as you were to address him, it was burning too hot to ignore, boring into you with a palpable insistence. With a swift, upward glance, you faced off. 
Eddie’s lids were heavy, cheeks pinking at the sudden confrontation. He licked his lips, eyes darkening as he swallowed. You could almost feel them again, cradling yours in a phantom kiss just like they did fourteen hours ago. His mouth had been so needy. So hot and plush, tongue slipping against yours like he’d been starving. 
Eddie closed his eyes in a slow blink. When he opened them again, they were so heavy with want that it rippled from across the room, shooting straight between your legs. You’d never been kissed like that before. Kissed so hard it robbed you of your senses, of your oxygen, of your goodness. It was easy to imagine; doing it again. Especially when he was looking at you like that. 
You indulged for just a moment, joined him in the scene. Alone together in the dark, empty room. It was easy to imagine what those lips would feel like going further; sucking your collar bone, grazing it with his teeth, trailing his sopping mouth to the place where your neck meets your shoulder before his calloused thumb slipped the strap of your bra to the side. 
Wringing a hand behind your neck, you glanced toward the television with a sudden feigned interest. The feeling wouldn’t leave you though; clouding your mind with wet smacking lips and the chill of the air at your nipples. 
He knew they would be perfect. He could just tell. They would heave beneath his watering mouth, puckered and primed for him to latch. Capturing one of them in his wet heat, you would melt into his waiting arms. Back arched, mewling so needy and loud it would cause the door to open if the scene was real. He was certain he’d be able to taste your hums through your skin here too. Even better perhaps.
Eddie shifted in his seat with a mild grimace, hand darting beneath his desk in time with a swift raise of his hips as chair legs scraped the tile. He glanced at his lap, then back up at you. 
Your face became a roaring furnace, paling only to the heat pooling under you. The pale television light flickered across his flushed cheeks, his lowered brow, his smoldering eyes that held you captive. He wanted you to know. Indulging, you imagined what was going on under that desk. What it would look like if he were to stand, to scale the room in a few eager strides and show you up close. 
“Need you now, Eddie,” you’d croon with a swipe of your hand up the generous bulge he was sporting, punctuating it with a pinch of his weeping head through the denim.
Eddie took his cue. In one dramatic swoop, the papers fluttered to the floor, the plant made a mess of the tile, the stapler clattered beside your shattered mug as pens rolled down the isles. Backing you into the edge of the big desk, he kissed you again. Hot and slick, body flush with yours, pressing his need against your pelvis as he probed your aching mouth. Parting only to shed himself of his outer layer, to lay it down behind you like a blanket, shielding your bare back from the cold wood.
From the confines of his small desk across the room, real Eddie took a deep breath, lids closing heavy on the inhale, fluttering open to a pained pout on the exhale.
Seating yourself on the edge of your desk on set, you would free him from the confines of his jeans. Pawing at his belt, you would tuck your fingers beneath it and tug urgently, rattling metal and leather before working his button free. Slowly, your nimble fingers would locate and lower his zipper, and a sigh would be the second thing that escaped. 
You were an A-list actress, looking down at his proud length like you’d never seen a dick before in your whole life. The coyness with which you peered from under your lashes was thoroughly convincing. Oscar-worthy. With a timid, chalk-dusted finger, you would draw a line from base to tip, admiring the way it bobbed, the way your touch encouraged it to glisten. Real Eddie swallowed, drawing a deep, impatient breath. Convincing as you were of your innocence, he was certain those fingers would know what they were doing as they traced his ridges with a teasing curiosity.
Unable to take any more of it, his hands would find your knees; bare where the stockings left off. They would roam under your thick wool skirt, up those impossibly soft thighs and draw back the curtain as you braced yourself against the desk behind you. In this scene, of course, your costume called for nothing underneath. You would be ready for him. Back flush with his coat, legs spread, glistening with need in the pale light from the television behind him. 
Impatient as he was, he would be remiss not take this opportunity to satisfy a curiosity of his own. Crouching down to level with your sex, he would take in your scent first. Breathe in your delicious, heady pheromones, let it cloud his vision further, as if there was room for anything else other than the persistent thought of you. Eddie wondered what you tasted like. Your mouth was exquisite, so what must you taste like here? With a generous swipe of his tongue, he would find the answer. 
The real you crossed your legs tightly, as if that would stave off the throbbing between them. Real Eddie caught it, the shift in your seat, the subtle raise of your knee under your plaid skirt, the way you worried your lip with your teeth as you glanced shyly toward the papers still, unfortunately, on your desk. 
What might his tongue feel like there? The question grappled for your attention despite futile attempts to shove it away. His tongue had a certain talent, you’d noticed, as it probed against yours in the dark last night. A sense of rhythm was a hard thing to teach. His tongue would be warm, you were certain of that, saliva slick as he pressed it flatly to your heat. He would take his time, savoring every groove and fold across this new terrain as if he were committing it to memory. Propping up on your elbows against the satin liner of his coat, you would catch those deep brown eyes, peering into yours with a smoldering hunger, lower lids pinching in pleasure as he drew slowly upward.
You would paw at the crown of his head, rake your fingers through his curls and tug, feeling his approving hum against your core. Halo of frizz tickling your thighs, his tongue would lathe slow and steady, closing those plush lips over your aching bud before sucking a kiss where you needed it most.
Exhaling deeply, you toyed with a pen on your desk; pressed your thumb into the cold metal nub, studied the tension a moment before releasing. Eyes unfocused, you were helpless as the film played out behind them. Click. Click. Click. Light flickered from the TV, twenty eyes distracted and oblivious. Throbbing, you shifted in your seat and caught the scent of your own arousal. Embarrassment flooded your cheeks. Never in your life had you been so grateful to be in the dark.
Try as you might to gleam a single chaste thought from the words printed below you, there was no space in your head for it. Just Eddie, crouched over you like a preying animal, looking at you with those lust-blown eyes like he’d make you his meal. Wrapping those ringed fingers around your hips, shifting his to meet them as he stood. You could almost feel it; his cockhead pressing with insistence at your entrance. Almost feel the safety of his shadow, how his curls would kiss his cheekbones as he hovered above you, how his lids would flutter as he pushed in. That deep, relieved sigh you would both breathe together as the long ache was soothed upon joining.
It was a moving picture. 
From the back of the room, Eddie watched your face burrow into your hand; fingers splayed across your forehead and eyes, shoulders slumping on your ragged exhale. How desperately he itched to ease them with his hands, his teeth, his tongue. It was painful; his cock straining against the confines of his jeans. Silently, he thanked himself for grabbing the black pair from the pile on the chair in his bedroom this morning, certain he was leaking through by now. 
Slowly, he shifted his hips upward, relishing in the drag of the fabric against his sensitive head as it moved toward his waistband. He paused before tucking it, arching forward again with sinful fulfillment. It felt good. Too good. Good enough to do it again. The way the cotton raked against the heart-ridge of his cock, the way the stiff bend in his zipper hit that sweet spot when his hips canted forward. 
Eddie glanced around the room, flushing furiously. All eyes were forward. No one seemed to notice.  Gripping the edge of the desk, he continued to rock his hips; slow and quiet micro-movements, careful not to creak the plastic chair. The shrinking, logical part of his brain couldn’t believe he was doing this. It was a new low. Perverted, even for him. But the tension was mounting, becoming unbearable, and the relief it offered was enough to drown out the shame.
He bet you would be so tight. He could almost feel those gorgeous legs wrap around his waist, your boots crossing at the ankles behind him, drawing him closer as you whined from the stretch. He could almost see you bite your lip and knit your brows, feel your fingers dig into his strong shoulders as you adjusted to his size. He would go slow, knowing it’s been a while for you. You would clench and arch but take him so well as he inched his way to the hilt. Then, bracing against the wood, he would happily give you what you needed — jack hammer hard, rutting like an animal in heat. You would be sinfully wet. He bet you were right now, sitting up there with your legs crossed and head down. Pity it would go to waste. If he had it his way it would be dripping onto the desk, slicking his balls as those pretty, perfect tits of yours bounced with every snap of his hips. 
The fabric was hitting him just right, scratching that itch with each flex of his cock against the dampened cotton. It was a slow mount, subtle and teasing, but it was enough. Anything would have been enough. A breeze. Eyes closed, forehead hung on the heel of his hand in feigned boredom, he imagined it what you would feel like under his thumb; rubbing that little button of yours that made you squirm and moan so deeply he could feel it from the inside. 
The hardest part was steadying his breath. He supposed he couldn’t fault his body, it was just doing what was natural in a place he shouldn’t be doing it. He couldn’t fault his heart for hammering, or his hips from wanting to buck, or his hands for itching to expedite the relief. What he would give to crank the volume on the television, to draw a curtain and just get it over with. God forbid you wisened up to his antics, although the thought did send a jolt to his dick. He knew he should stop before he did something utterly shameful, but the spot he was hitting was just too sweet, a feeling he was helpless but to chase.
He would give you everything you ever wanted. With gritted teeth he would ream you until you came undone, make that pretty face of yours contort over and over as you writhed against the desk, howling his name into the drop ceiling. The slap of skin on skin would echo off the tile until he’d rendered you utterly stupid, which was difficult to do.
“You want it, huh?” he’d huff into your ear, peppered with nip of your lobe. “Want me? Want my cum?”
Tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, you’d mewl your answer. “Yes. Please.”
Slumping forward in his desk, Eddie buried his head in the crook of his arm. Fuck. His boots dug into the tile, thighs straining, lip pinched in his teeth, desperate to restrain the bucking of his hips. There was an animal inside him, tugging like a rubber band waiting to snap. His aching balls begged as they drew upward, cockhead so sensitive it could feel every stitch. Eddie burrowed his nose into the desk, both chasing the feeling and running from it.
He would show you how much of a man he was, paint you with proof on the inside. Remind you as it slicked your thighs with every click of your boots down the hall.
Huffing into the dark cocoon, his free hand gripped the metal legs below him, holding on for dear life as the wave approached its crest. Hips stuttering, breath fogging the desk, he hit the wall. The one that made his mind go blank, his eyes roll back, his whole body tense and tingle like a yawn. 
It came out like a whimper. Warmer and wetter with each pathetic spurt. A small, strangled sound threatened the back of his throat. It tried to escape his gaping, downturned mouth, but he choked it back. It was a relief to get it out, like a dirty confession. Wave after hot, thick wave of frustration pooled in his boxers, clung to his balls as he emptied them completely. When the last of it crested with nothing more to give, his hips rocked to stillness, and the rest of his body went limp. 
He looked like a puddle of leather and hair. Squinting as you peered around the student in front of him, you wondered why his back was heaving like he had been running. 
Eddie peeled his face up from the desk; cheeks flushed, mouth slack, looking at you in a way you could only describe as absolutely fucked-out. A stray ringlet swayed in his ragged breath. There was that feeling again, that pulse between your legs that made you clench them. Quickly as he’d met your eyes, he blinked away as if it burned.
Eddie was a mess. Shifting in his seat with a grimace, he could feel the cotton cling to his skin as he sobered to the chalkboard, and the desks, and the twenty other people he prayed were oblivious to what he’d just done. It was like he was waking up from a wet dream, only he had never gone to sleep. He blinked down at his desk, mortified as his cock softened happily, lolling in its sticky puddle. It was seeping through the denim, cooling in his lap as the seconds ticked by. Glancing at the clock, he calculated another twenty minutes before he could clean it up. Twenty whole minutes to sit with the consequences, to stew in a puddle of his own shame. He supposed he could excuse himself to the bathroom but that would, of course, mean addressing you. It would mean getting up and walking in front of your desk, and the entire class, while you handed him a hall pass like a fucking child. He would rather sit.
Blinking back your thoughts from the gutter, you righted yourself in your chair, chastising yourself as you uncrossed your legs, your own mess trailing cooly against your inner thigh. It was uncomfortable, embarrassing, but there was nothing you could about it now. Flipping through your Rolodex of thoughts, you searched for anything. Anything at all that was chase, or sensible, or mildly interesting. 
Looking down at your naked hands, another scene fell open. This time the set came from memory. A pawn shop in early summer. It was vivid — the rain beating against the large window framing the on-ramp of the highway, Frank Sinatra mocking from the dusty speaker in the corner. The diamond sparkled magnificently as you passed the ring over the glass countertop. Brilliant rainbow fractals brought out by certain lights. They would catch you by surprise sometimes, tickle you with delight in the supermarket or the mall. It winked at you under the fluorescents then, a fleeting goodbye. In the moment, you weren’t sure which was worse — catching your own pained reflection in the glass below you or the pity in the eyes of the man who took your once-prized possession.
You left with twelve hundred dollars in an envelope, a fraction of what it cost him. The banker box rattled in the passenger’s seat as you slammed the door. Stuffed too full for a lid, your quill mug clattered against the plates your grandma gave you. You’d run out of newspaper wrapping your knick-knacks, resorted to your clothes to pad the rest.
The mug cast a shadow across your desk now, flickering in the light of the television. 
You clenched your fists, fighting the touch-memory of Eddie’s ribs under your palms. You’d felt safe for a moment; nestled in his coat, in his hair, melting into the heat of his mouth. What you would give to live it all again, right now. What you would give to have him all to yourself, every day. For the luxury to go on a date, to be seen in public together, to explore where this was going. Glancing across the sea of twenty desks, reality stared back. Where did you think this was going? 
Eddie’s pencil clattered to the floor. His curse was audible, even from the front of the room. Was this where you would place your trust? Your career, your future? In the reckless hands of a twenty year old man? He could ruin you. With a bold move, or a misplaced word, or a drunken gloat one night with his friends. Or god forbid it all went south and in a blind fury he lashed out and retaliated somehow. He wouldn’t do that, would he? You thought you knew him well enough to know that he would never, but did you really? You’d known Eddie Munson for all of four months, which felt strange to consider. It terrified you, the depth of your feelings in so short a time. Terrified you almost as much as the consequences for them. 
Your hand twitched beside the green grading pen resting on the pile of tests you’d barely touched in the last thirty minutes. There were more in your bag to be graded — the stack you’d abandoned on your coffee table last night. It would all catch up to you eventually. The homework, the papers, the secrets. After all you’d been through, had you learned nothing? No one really knows what they want at twenty years old. You certainly didn’t. A head full of fantasies is what you had. Snatching your pen with a firm click, you slashed an X through one of the questions on the test below you and buried yourself in your work.
When the bell finally rang, Eddie hung back in his seat like he always did, waiting for his moment with you. But by the time he had stripped himself of his jacket and secured his flannel around his waist, you had already made for the door.
______
The metal serving spoon smacked the plastic tray, leaving behind a glob of tomato sauce over the tangle of limp noodles. With a tight-lipped nod of thanks, Eddie took it from the lunch lady and made his way into the settled cafeteria, finding his place at the end of the Hellfire table. Steamed carrots bounced from the tray onto the sticky veneer as it fell from his hands with a clatter. Slugging off his backpack to the floor, he slumped into the empty chair that had been waiting patiently for him for the past twenty minutes. 
“There he is,” Jeff nodded to Dustin across the table.
“What’s the story this time? Got abducted by aliens?” chortled Dave.
He would think they would stop asking questions by now, but apparently he needed to teach them a lesson. “Nah, just… jerking off,” Eddie said with a deadpan shake of his head before spearing a meatball with his fork.
The half-truth earned him a rowdy chuckle from the peanut gallery, a gag from Mike. He would spare them the uglier details, like the balled up boxers shoved in the bottom of his backpack or how awkward it was to strip them off in the stall of a bustling bathroom. Glancing down at his lap, he checked that the flannel was still cloaking the drying white stain. 
Jeff’s leather jacket squeaked from the bend in his arm as he leaned against the table. “I was just filling the boys in on the show last night,” he said with a glint in his eyes.
Eddie looked up with a full mouth, eyes like saucers. 
“Yeah, told them about our special guest,” Dave added with a raise of his eyebrows.
He could only respond with a nervous huff, turning back to his tray as his stomach did kick flips. 
“Is it true?” Mike asked Eddie. “She seriously got up and danced?”
Eddie swallowed the whole mouthful at once. He couldn’t lie his way out of this one. “I mean, nothing too crazy. Just for a song.”
“Yeah a song Eddie made us play for her,” Jeff said with a wink. Dustin and Mike’s mouthes fell open simultaneously.
“Think I saw her tits at one point,” Dave reminisced. 
Eddie scoffed. “You did not see her tits, dude. You’re so full of shit.”
“I dunno man, her shirt was pretty short,” Gareth added with a playful nudge. 
“They’re both full of shit,” Eddie shakily assured to the two youngest members. 
They barely paid him a glance, chuckling amongst the rest while Dave rubbed lewd circles over his chest. 
“HEY,” Eddie barked. “Look at me, all of you. This doesn’t leave this table, do you understand me? If I catch wind that any of you went and told anyone about last night I’ll skin you alive, I swear to god.”
Gareth shot him a tired look. “Jesus, dude. Nothing even happened.”
The knot in Eddie’s stomach released slightly. “That’s right. Nothing happened.”
Dave snorted, stabbing his bendy straw into a leftover carrot. “Yeah man, chill out. Nobody’s gonna get your girlfriend in trouble.” 
The blood drained from Eddie’s face as the whole gang erupted in laughter. The uproarious, table slapping kind. It was a joke. A good one, it seemed. The word echoed like the pulse pounding in his ears. Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend. A warm, gooey word. One that made his stomach churn with longing. Biting back venom, he wondered how their faces would change if he slapped them with the truth. Would they still be laughing? Would they even believe him? They could laugh all they want—for your sake at least—but it stung nonetheless. 
Dave caught the bitter shift in his expression. “What? You clearly have the hots for her.”
“Who doesn’t?” Jeff laughed.
“ANYWAY!” Eddie punctuated with a smack of his hands against the table. “Gareth, you’ve been awfully quiet about your date this past Sunday. Please, regale us,” he gestured grandly.
Gareth chuckled nervously, pushing a noodle around with his fork. “Oh uh, nothing really happened there either.”
Dave rolled his eyes. “Seriously dude? You’ve been on like three dates and you haven’t even made it to first base?”
“I told you, Cindy’s not like that!” Gareth defended before glancing around sheepishly. “But we did…kinda… hold hands on Sunday.” 
A long oooh emanated from the table. “Hands cupped or laced?” Dustin asked with a raise of his eyebrows, demonstrating with his own hands.
“Ok so,” Gareth began with an emerging smirk, “you know the Large Marge part of Pee-wee’s Big Adventure where her face goes all,” he demonstrated with a bug-eyed look, hands splayed on either side of his face. 
The table responded with chuckles and nods. “Gets me every time,” muttered Dustin.
“Well, Cindy’d never seen it before, so she jumped and like, grabbed my arm,” he paused for effect, “so I just went for it.”
Approval bubbled up from his captive audience. 
“Cupped at first,” he clarified, cutting through the noise, “but after like ten minutes she didn’t pull away, so,” he laced his fingers triumphantly. There was a barking applause, fists rattling the table. Jeff clapped him on the back with a blinding grin. 
Eddie was an island. Oceans away, he managed a soft smile. His night had been far from innocent — a frantic tangle of hands, and tongues, and teeth in the frigid darkness. Phantom feelings that tugged at his lips and fingers, at the forefront of his every thought. Thumbing at the rubber rim of the lunch table, he dreamt of a universe where the walls and roles fell away, one where he could speak of his firsts too. 
______
Eddie had been watching the clock all day. In eighth period trigonometry he watched second hand crawl around the clock face fifty times as his thumbnail worked the paint off a pencil, chipping at the indents his teeth left behind. The final bell was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Slugging his backpack over his shoulder, he didn’t even bother to stop at his locker before ducking down the hall where your room resided. He almost collided with a straggling sophomore exiting your door on his way in. 
Perhaps he had arrived too early. It wasn’t the scene he was accustomed to — you, standing at your desk, shoving folders into your satchel like you were trying to make a run for it. His small wooden chair still leaned against the wall. The AV cart still towered where it was when the lights were off. Glancing down, he quickly checked to make sure the flannel was draping correctly. 
“Going somewhere?” he teased, unable to hide the concern creeping in.
Your smile was a coy, fragile thing. Chest rising with the kicking of your heart, you opened your mouth but had no words to show for it. Fumbling with an overstuffed folder, you hovered it over the opening of your bag before sliding it in with a sigh.
Eddie shut the door. 
Turning over his shoulder, he snatched your eyes with a startling hunger. Your hands went slack, leather slumping against the desk as his heavy boots met the tile. He was slow in his approach, stalking past the empty rows, parched eyes drinking in every detail of your features. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you met him at the edge of your desk.
His curls were wild, chocolate eyes fiending, a soft concern weighing his brow. Under the fluorescents you could see very clearly what you’d felt last night. The shadow of stubble, the dip of his cupid’s bow, the soft ball of his nose that was cold against your cheek. Under his jacket, the taught landscape of his chest rose and fell. You swallowed, toying with the wool of your skirt. 
“Hey,” he half-whispered, lids drooping ever so slightly. 
“Hey,” you replied, like your tongue was feeling the word for the first time. It tugged a gooey softness from the corners of his mouth, and you cursed yourself for the pang to taste it again. So plush and pink, drawing your gaze long enough for him to notice. 
Eddie dropped his backpack to the floor, tossing it hard enough to collide with the wall below the chalkboard. Shoulders unburdened, he rolled them back to assume the fullness of his height. With pupils blown, he darted out his tongue to wet his lips, looming like a wolf that sees a rabbit. 
He closed in with a step, to which you retreated. The edge of the desk bumped the back of your thighs. Heart hammering, you peered into his hungry eyes. You’d been here before. Not long ago, in your imagination. Different, darker, quieter. 
Eddie drank in the sight of you — your tight cotton shirt and your soft heaving chest. How the band of your skirt hugged the curve of your waist. You, woman.  
Like a false sense of safety, his scent enveloped you. It was dizzying, how badly your hands burned to trace the swell of his pecks, to tangle in his hair, to capture his hot, slick mouth again. Terrifying, the part of you that begged for him to press forward, to tumble you backward, to take his place on top of you. Timidly, your fingers curled over the corner of the desk. 
As he leaned closer, you could feel the tingle of heat from his chest, the ghost of his breath on your face. His arm became a cage as he steadied his palm against the wood behind you. “Been thinking about you all day,” he murmured in your ear. 
You shivered, lids fluttering closed for a selfish, greedy moment. Glancing over his shoulder at the narrow sliver of a window in the door, you peered at the lockers on the other side of the hall. There were some still slamming, slowly petering out as voices drifted further with each passing second. “Eddie,” you warned, placing a hand over his sternum. Eyes dipping slightly at your touch, the solid swell of his chest expanded under the cotton. He stepped back with a gentle push, your palm lingering before falling away. 
A deep breath fumed through his nostrils, heavy and tired. With a tight lipped nod, he backed away, pivoting toward his folded chair beside the door. It screeched as he dragged it across the tile, past the rows of desks, in front of yours, all the way to his usual place beside you. He snapped it open and paused, gripping the wood in his palms, staring down at the place where he’d sat countless times. How small it was compared to yours; padded with armrests and wheels. 
“So we just…” he flexed his fingers and shook his head, unable to suppress the sting in his voice, “go back to normal then?”
Eyes cast down at the empty seats, you sighed. “I don’t… think we can.”
“Good,” he stated, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Come on, let’s sit down.”
It was enticing, that chair with its worn leather padding. What was more enticing was the space beneath the desk; a safe haven for hands and arms, for cupped palms and laced fingers. On top of the desk lay your bag, and your keys, and the plant still alive in its unbroken pot. Your head was pounding; a dull ache that had been radiating from your temples since lunch. Lockers slammed outside the room, fluorescents hot on your skin. With a deep, lamenting sigh, you gave him all you could manage — your honesty. “It’s been… a hell of a day for me—”
“You could say that again.”
“I—” you sighed sharply, “I really think I just need to go home a-and… think things through.”
“What’s there to think about?” The words tumbled out like an avalanche he couldn’t chase. Your balking expression made him wish he could suck them all back.
“Oh gee, I don’t know,” you gestured wildly to the classroom, “we could start with my job.”
“I’m sorry that was—y-you know what I mean.”
“Do I?” The steam from the pressure could have burned him.
“We—we both clearly have feelings for each other,” he explained, lowering his voice. “I just… thought we would figure it out.”
There was a gap between you, cluttered with papers and pens. Your bag slumped in the middle of the mess, gaping and stuffed to the brim. Pulse hammering behind your eyes, you blinked them slowly with a pained sigh. “I know,” you admitted, toying with the strap. “Eddie, please, I need some time to think about all this.” 
It hurt to imagine. You, going home, sitting there in your slippers at your coffee table and deciding that he wasn’t worth the risk. Closing the flap on your satchel, you tugged the leather heap across the desk, but Eddie’s hand was quick to pounce. “No, we need to talk.” 
Frustration pinched your brow. “I know but—”
“Then let’s talk, yeah?” he gestured to the chairs.
A cluster of shadows passed by the window over your shoulder. “Not here, not right now.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Then let’s get out of here.”
“And go where? A table at Benny’s?” you snapped.
“You’ve got a place, right?”
Folding your arms, you shot him an incredulous look, though the thought was both thrilling and terrifying. You lowered your voice. “What happened last night was… impulsive.”
“I’d say it was a long time coming.”
You sighed. “Regardless, I think that’s enough for this week.”
Eddie would disagree, but his tongue had a wrangle on the words this time. In the pause, it was easy for both of you to picture; his clothes on your bedroom floor. Easy to picture the ways he could ruin you in private — fold you like the chair under his wringing palms. Still, the ways he could ruin you in public were equally vivid. 
You turned to grab your coat, brushing past him. The arm of his jacket was smooth against yours. Electrified by the contact, you lingered for a moment, unable to abstain from drinking in his form, his scent, from basking in the prickle of his aura. 
He could see it clearly in the harsh light — the shadow that clung beneath your lower lashes, the sagging exhaustion in your eyes. Gravity tugged at the corners of your natural lips, so different from how they appeared last night — dark and dusty red, framing a smile that outshined the moon. His fingers twisted against the wood. “Please stay,” he begged softly. 
Your eyes drifted shut, a split-second relish in the sweet pang of his voice, though the words rung a different bell; a different man saying them. In a flash, another scene appeared — you, at the door of your old home in Indianapolis, cradling the last of your belongings as your free hand gripped the knob. 
Opening your eyes to the radiator, and the windows, and the pale grey sky before you now, you relinquished a shaky sigh and tucked your fingers under the thick collar of your coat. It still held a subtle fragrance, clinging to the memory of last night, desperately as you were. Eddie watched with rapt attention as your brow pinched in pain, fingers twitching under the wool he’d memorized the shape of you through. When your lip began to tremble, his hand lost control. 
“Hey,” he whispered, meeting the soft cotton slope of your shoulder with his palm. 
Your head snapped toward his umber eyes; warmer than the hand that thawed your shoulder, callus catching on the cotton as his thumb soothed over it. You followed it down to his wrist, to the tendons flexing beneath the chain, dipping under the sleeve of his worn, leather coat. How desperately you longed to wrap yourself inside it again, to nestle into his beating chest and hide there forever. 
A voice crackled over the loudspeaker, and reflex had you flinching. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed, tears burning behind your eyes as you snatched your coat off the hook.
Bitterly, he dropped his hand. The contact hurt to break, almost as much as it hurt to watch you don your coat, to snatch your bag, to sling the heavy strap over your shoulder. Helplessly, he stood there, feeling like a fool until the welling of your eyes made it unbearable not to advance. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” he pleaded. “Like—like a big deal. Not if we don’t make it one.”
You froze, eyes narrowing as a pained fume left your nose. “That’s easy for you to say.” With a bitter huff, you turned on your heel and left him in the classroom with only the echo of your footsteps. 
______
A/N: Yes, in my story Principal Higgins is a woman. I know in canon Eddie says “flip him the bird,” but for some reason my brain didn’t register that until literally two months ago. I always pictured Higgins as a stern, ancient, nun-like woman and I can’t seem to shake that characterization from my brain. Perhaps I’m just scarred from Catholic grade school. I think it works well for this story, so Martha Higgins it is. 
Also sorry I never stated this in the tags but the upside down does not exist in this universe.
The smut is coming very soon. Pinky swear. Our Lady of Internal Conflict is just having a moment. 
Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @storiesbyrhi @trashmouth-richie @carolmunson @blueywrites @alottanothing @bebe07011 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @mrsjellymunson @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @big-ope-vibes @barbiedragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @sllooney @lunaladybug734 @callingmrsbarnes @ajkamins
______
MASTERLIST ⎮ AO3 ⎮ KO-FI
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babybluebex · 8 months
Note
Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.
ok i have a vivid image in my head and let's see if i can translate it hehe
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You tapped the toe of your pristine white sneaker on the linoleum, waiting. Just waiting. Principal Higgins was still talking to Jason, trying to get his side of the story, and you knew that he would certainly listen to Jason over you. You had basically broken Jason's nose, the star of Hawkins High— you didn't feel as if many people would be on your side.
But then, someone appeared in the doorway. You scoffed; "Save it, Munson."
"Easy," Eddie said carefully. He looked a little disheveled, definitely your fault. After you had punched Jason, the lunchroom had basically exploded, and Eddie had hauled you away from Jason with strong arms around your waist. You could remember him saying something about "He's not worth it", but your adrenaline was still running then, and you could hardly remember the moment. "Just making sure you're okay."
You grimaced, looking down to where you were nursing your wrist against your chest. It throbbed like crazy and hurt like nothing else; it hurt worse than that time when your basket didn't catch you after a toss and you went careening towards the floor. You were sure that your wrist was sprained, maybe even worse, and you let fat tears slide down your nose. There goes your senior year cheer season.
"Aw, jeez," Eddie mumbled. "It hurts that bad? I'm sorry, I-I feel like a piece of shit—"
"It's not that," you whimpered, wiping up your tears. "I'm upset because I won't be able to cheer with my wrist like this. I can't throw any tricks, I can't even be on the bottom of the pyramid. I'll have to sit out the entire season!"
Eddie carefully sat down next to you, the leather of his own pristine white sneakers squeaking as he flexed his foot. "Even though you didn't need to," he started. "Thank you for defending me. It means a lot that someone would stand up for me, especially you."
"What does that mean?" you asked.
"Well," Eddie started. "If Jason is the king of Hawkins, and Chrissy is the queen, you're as good as the princess. And the princess of Hawkins standing up against the king to defend some stupid bard, that takes some guts."
You shrugged. "I've watched Jason and those guys tease you since we were freshman," you mumbled. "I just got sick and tired of it. Pick on somebody your own size, y'know?"
"That's noble," Eddie said. "But... I feel like you aren't being truthful with me."
"Huh?" you asked, wrinkling your nose. "How?"
"Well, you remember last year, how we had algebra together?" Eddie asked. "You were placed in the senior-level class, and I was there because I failed it the first time, and I sat behind you. Well, umm... You kinda helped me pass that class, but that's irrelevant, I guess... But I—"
"I knew it!" you exclaimed with a smile. "You cheated off of me!"
"Cheated is a strong word," Eddie said. "I looked at your paper to get an idea of what I was supposed to do. But whatever, doesn't matter, I was looking at your notes one day in class and I saw that you were doodling something, and it was me. And it was perfect, you didn't look back at me once and you had perfectly drawn me."
"So?" you asked. "You're kinda hard to forget."
Eddie looked at you pointedly through his eyelashes, and he sighed. "So, I guess it doesn't matter that I've written songs about you," he said, and your heart jumped in your chest. Had he? What sorta songs? "That I think about you all the time? That, when I was pulling you away from Jason, I almost kissed you?"
You didn't want to hide it anymore. You knew that Chrissy would think you were crazy for liking Eddie— she had told you so, back in freshman year. During a sleepover, she had gotten you to admit your crush on the then-junior Eddie, and she had laughed and said, "Him? He's so weird!" But it didn't matter to you anymore. You liked Eddie, and, after the scene in the lunchroom, you didn't care who knew.
"What kind of songs?" you asked, edging closer to Eddie on the wooden bench.
"Sappy shit," Eddie said. "Not like Motley Crue 'sex and girls' stuff, but good love songs. You ever heard Babe by Styx?" You shook your head, and Eddie tilted his head. "I have the cassette at home, I can bring it to you tomorrow."
"Can you sing it to me?" you asked.
"Now?" Eddie gasped. "Jesus, sweetheart, you're gonna kill me, there are people around!"
"I'm sure you're not that bad of a singer," you rolled your eyes.
Eddie looked around at the small room. There was nobody else there, just a waiting room for Principal Higgins's office, but people were bustling in the hallway outside the room. "I'm not great," Eddie mumbled, reaching over and twisting his fingers nervously in your skirt. "Maybe can I... Um, bring you to my place after school? I can show you the song, and-and play you some that I've written."
"I'd like that," you grinned, and, as the door to the office opened, you leaned over and kissed Eddie's cheek. He immediately went beet red, and his hand drifted up to lovingly touch where your lips had been as he watched you stand and enter the office. "See ya then, Eddie!"
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radioactiveparker · 6 days
Text
The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader
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Part Three - Hallway Vision
Chapter Summary - During an adventure through the maze of school hallways, we see the Criminal become the hero, and the King become the villain. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)
Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Illusions to Emotional Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Vandalism / Strong Sexual References / Drug References / Angst
Word Count - 5k
(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)
(Part One) (Part Two)
~~~~~
Saturday.
October 25th, 1986.
Hawkins High Library.
1:00pm
~~~~~
"Let's take off. Dick's gone cruising." Eddie poked his head back into the library.
"Is that a euphemism?"
"No, Buckley. It means Higgins has just left his office."
You looked at the others as if this was an easy yes; you wanted to leave this library. Steve and Nancy didn't look too fond of the idea. Robin was torn between not wanting to leave, and not wanting to be the only one left behind. 
"How do you know where he went?" Nancy asked, as if his answer would determine hers.
"I don't. But he's gone. He wouldn't've come to check on us first if he wasn't going somewhere for a while. Jesus, I've never seen so much chicken shit in one place in my life."
She didn't find that answer very reassuring, but if Nancy was anything, it certainly wasn't chicken shit.
Robin looks at her, then back at Eddie. "I'll go out in the hall for a minute, but I don't wanna leave." As if that was proof enough that she wasn't chicken shit.
You really wanted to get out of that library. It had felt a lot bigger when you had first got there, but now, five hours later, it was starting to get suffocating. You didn't want to see another book for the rest of your life. 
"Do you mean take off for good?" You asked hopefully.
Eddie shook his head. "For good? No, just down to my locker."
"Okay." You agreed simply, taking your place beside him.
He smiled at you. "Being bad feels pretty god, huh?" 
You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a playful shove. The others looked like they were starting to consider it. Eddie's locker wasn't that far away. They would be gone for five minutes tops. If things went well, that was.
"What's the point of going to a locker?" Steve questioned.
"Why don't we just stand in the hall for a minute? That'd be fun, huh? If we get away with it." Robin attempted to persuade.
You and Eddie ignored them, taking the chance to slip out the door. The longer you all spent debating it, the less time you would have to get back.
Steve, Robin, and Nancy looked at each other.
"I'm not chicken." Nancy disclosed boldly, shifting on her feet and crossing her arms.
"I am." Robin gulped. At least she was honest.
"You two gonna stay?" Nancy flicked her eyes between the two of them.
"Not if you don't." Steve leaned against the door frame, like his answer showed her some sort of compassion, that he was thinking of her. 
"What do I have to do with making up your mind?"
Steve gulped. Not the reaction he was hoping. He cleared his throat and accepted defeat. "I don't know. I guess if you're not scared, I shouldn't be... not that I am. I'm not scared. Not of Principal Higgins."
Nancy stared at him like she didn't believe him, then left before he could dig the hole any deeper for himself. Steve was crushed as he watched Nancy walk away. He felt like he had just blown a chance at impressing Nancy. His shoulders slumped, and Robin patted him on the back.
"Maybe you should think for yourself for once. It's healthy." 
She hadn't said it in a bad way, but it had still injured his dignity. He brushed her hand off him and left without a word. Robin turned to the empty library. She debated sitting back down, but she had visions of Higgins storming through the doors and hounding her with questions. At least if she got caught in the halls, she'd have the others with her. She quickly followed after Steve.
Nancy and Steve caught up with you and Eddie, with Robin running behind, trying to catch up. You all hurried up the steps as quietly as possible. You made it to the teacher's lounge and paused, hearing noise coming from inside.
"For cryin' out loud!" Principal Higgins hit the vending machine. His soda can was stuck inside. 
You and Eddie ran across the open doorway while he was distracted. You tried not to think about the way Eddie had grabbed your hand to pull you along. Higgins rattled the coin return and started banging on the buttons. Steve and Nancy went next, taking a big lunge across and landing on their feet silently. Higgins let out a defeated sigh and started rummaging his pockets for more change. Finally, Robin made it across, just in time before the Principal turned around after having no luck. Eddie turned to make sure that everyone had made it across. He hadn't realised that he was still holding your hand until you wiggled it out of his grip. Your face flushed, and you awkwardly wiped your hand on your skirt, suddenly feeling the perspiration on your palm. You took a step away from each other at the same time. Eddie cleared his throat, and the others eyed him, wondering why his demeanour had suddenly changed.
They all turned when they saw his eyes staring behind them, paralysed in panic. Principal Higgins had walked out of the teacher's lounge. 
Everyone froze.
The Principal paused, looked down at his watch, turned the other way, and walked down the hall. Everyone released a breath when he was out of sight. Eddie led you down another hall until you reached his locker.
His locker was so ugly it hurt your eyes. The white paint on his locker was non-existent. It was a horrific amalgamation of stickers from bands you've never heard of, spray paint graffiti, and lettering scratched into the metal with handwriting so bad you couldn't even read it. When he opened it, the inside wasn't much better. The stickers and writing wrapped around the inside of the locker door. It was a stunning mess of clothes, bags, papers, books, cassette tapes, and auto parts. You'd hate to see what his bedroom looked like. 
Not that you were thinking of being in his bedroom.
Eddie started fishing through his locker. Nancy was revolted by it. 
"You're such a slob. Your maid take the week off or something?"
"This is on purpose, Princess. Don't worry." Nobody believed him. "It discourages nosey people from going in it. Like cops."
Eddie smiled when he located what he was looking for. He pulled out a greasy, stained shopping bag. Out of the shopping bag, he took a smaller brown paper bag, and out of that, an even smaller paper bag. Then, with great drama and a huge, proud smile, he reached his hand into the final bag.
"You ready for this action?"
He slowly took out a baggie bulging with marijuana. Your mouth hung open in shock. Nancy looked at it like it was infectious.
"No way, man. Put it back." Steve insisted, making a reach for it.
Eddie stuffed the baggie down the from of his pants with a smirk. Steve pulled a disgusted face; there was no way he was going to take it from him now. 
"Let's go."
You all turned and quietly crept back down the hall. You were about to turn the corner when Eddie stopped you. Professor Higgins was standing outside of the teacher's lounge again, holding two cans of Coca Cola after finding some spare change in his office draw. He was only five yards away. You all scooted backwards to hide behind the corner. You bravely peeked a head around. Higgins turned and made his way down the hall. He was on his way back to the library. You told the others.
"We're screwed!" Robin cried
"You asshole!" Steve seethed. "I knew this was a lost idea!"
Nancy shook her head in disbelief. "We're finished. This is just great." 
You had a bit more optimism than that. You turned to Eddie. He got himself out of shit all the time. What's one more? You had faith in him, and he had felt it in how you spoke your words. "What're we gonna do?"
Eddie thought hard. Higgins' leisurely footsteps echoed down the hall, each one diminishing your chances of getting back to the library undetected. 
"We'll go around, cut through the lab, and double back. C'mon."
Eddie urged everyone to start running. You all swerved around corners and scrambled downstairs, sacrificing volume for speed. You narrowly escaped Higgins' sight when you turned and corner and seen he was walking head on towards you all. He was too busy sipping on his Cola to notice the group of students at the end of the hall. At least he had decided to take the scenic route back to the library. He was unintentionally buying you all some time. You all ran in the opposite direction again.
"Cut through the cafeteria." Eddie directed, starting to run down the hall to the right.
"The gym will be faster." Steve countered.
"What? No, you don't know what you're talking about."
"No, you don't know what you're talking about. I'm through listening to you. You'll just end up getting us into more trouble. We're going this way." Steve had managed to persuade the others into following him. 
Eddie hardly spent time in school, and he certainly never used the gym. He couldn't remember if it was quicker or not. He didn't like not being in control. He felt like he was running off a cliff head first with a blindfold on. He watched as the others followed Steve down the hall to the left. It was just you and him left. You stared at him fearfully, listening to Principal Higgins' footsteps grow closer. You started backwards slowly, encouraging Eddie to follow. He did with a scoff of annoyance. The two of you quickly caught up with the others, falling behind while Steve led the way. After a couple of twists and turns and another almost run in with the Principal, you reached the gym doors. Steve pulled on the handles.
They were locked.
Sheer panic set in.
"Great idea, shitbag." Eddie spat at Steve.
"Fuck you." He tried the doors again to double check that they were locked. 
They were. He kicked them bitterly.
"Fuck you, why didn't you listen to Eddie?" You defended. 
You crashed back on some lockers and folded your arms in frustration.
"We're dead." Robin whimpered.
Eddie looked at you. You had probably given him more credit that what he was worth before when you had asked him for help, but now, as you stared back, he wanted to prove himself to you. You seeing the clogs working in his brain and the change in his eyes.
He didn't take his eyes off you. "No, just me." He said heroically.
"What do you mean?" Steve's voice finally drew his eyes away from you.
"I'm gonna take the rap." He pulls his baggie of marijuana out and shoves it down Steve's pants. "Keep your unit out of it."
The girls giggled. Steve was horrified that a group of girls were laughing about his genitals.
"I mean, what if the bag broke and the dope seeped into his thing and it got high?" Robin laughed.
"Can you imagine this airhead running around with his little weenie stoned?" You cracked up.
"Little?" Steve looked wounded. "It's not that funny." 
The girls just cracked up more. Eddie smirked.
"I don't want this, Eddie!" Steve begged.
"C'mon King Steve, I'm gonna save your buns! It's your fault we're in this mess, the least you could do is hold on to that until Dick leaves." 
The girls were still laughing. You meet Eddie's eye and he starts laughing too.
Steve turned back to the group of girls snickering behind him. "Excuse me, but I don't want to do this. Eddie's making me, so I'd appreciate it if you guys would stop with the jokes. Okay?"
Eddie turned and started running back down the hall. "Just get back to the library!"
There was a pause as the girls calmed down. No use in trying to be sneaky when you can't stop laughing. 
"Eddie, wait." He paused, eyebrows raised in interest at your voice. "Be careful."
Eddie beamed and shot you a wink before sprinting down the hall.
"That stuff couldn't really happen, right?" Steve's voice quivered with concern for his unit.
With a roll of your eyes, you urged the group to start towards the library. You lead the way, taking Eddie's route through the cafeteria. As you ran through the halls, you could hear his loud singing, but he was too distant for you to understand any of the words. If you could hear him from all the way over here, Principal Higgins would most definitely already be on his way to catch him. 
You managed to get them all back to the library safely. Everyone was huffing for breath, and Steve kept adjusting his pants. Everyone took their seats, except for Nancy, who was peering out of the doors to keep an eye out for Higgins or Eddie. 
Nancy gasped. "Higgins' got him! He's gonna get reamed."
Steve recoiled at the name. "I do not want these drugs in my underwear anymore."
"Shhh!"
Nancy rushed from the door to her desk. No sooner was she seated than the door opened up, and Principal Higgins shoved Eddie in. He was red-faced from running around, and he had managed to tie his hair back into a low bun that you thought suited him. His red paid shirt was half hanging off, and he was carrying one shoe in his hand, but he still had a big shit-eating grin on his face. You wondered what on earth had happened. He made his way towards his seat next to you, hopping on one leg as he tried to walk and put his shoe back on at the same time. 
Higgins crossed his arms impatiently. "Mr. Munson has taken it upon himself to visit the gymnasium. So, I'm sorry to inform you that you'll be losing his company for the remainder of the day." 
Eddie chuckled to himself as he sat back in his seat next to you.
"Everything's a joke, huh, Munson? The false alarm you pulled on Friday? Are false fire alarms real funny? What if your home was on fire and the fire department was over here answering a false alarm?"
"I'm not that lucky, Sir."
Everyone suppressed the urge to laugh at Eddie's wisecrack. 
"Fine, what if it was your dope on fire?"
"That's impossible, Sir. It's in Harrington's underwear."
Everyone cracks up again. Steve turned red, adjusting himself in his jeans not-so subtly.
The Principal turned his attention on everyone else. "You like this? You think Munson's funny? Do you think he's cute?"
He got no reaction from anyone. Eddie glared at Higgins as he made his little speech, trying to hide his embarrassment at the fact that the Principal had managed to one-up him. 
"I bet Y/N thinks I'm cute." He mumbled under his breath. Eddie had spoken your actual name for the first time. It sounded like honey running off his lips. Your eyes widened, but you pretended not to hear. 
Higgins continued. "Go visit Big Eddie Munson in five years and see how goddamn funny he is." He smiled and leaned in close to Eddie. "You look like you're gonna cry, Munson."
Eddie was struggling to keep himself from striking Principal Higgins across his smug fucking face. How dare he humiliate him in front of everyone. How dare he humiliate him in front of you.
"You're not tough, Munson. You're pathetic." He reached out and grabbed Eddie by the front. "Let's go."
Eddie smacked his hand away. "Get your fucking hands off me! I'd expect better manners from you, Dick."
Eddie shuffled around the table, planting a big kiss on your cheek as he left. You almost gasped in surprise. As he walked away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. Why he was carrying sunglasses in October, you had no idea. You had learned it was probably better not to question him. He lay them on the desk in front of Steve. 
"For better hallway vision." He sniped.
Principal Higgins walked out, holding the door open for Eddie as he shuffled languidly behind him. He turned his head and looked at the others. 
He held up a peace sign in farewell. "It's been a slice, ladies."
The door closed behind them.
The room was silent once more. 
You reached a hand to your cheek where Eddie had kissed you. The skin was tingling under your touch. You couldn't help but smile at the memory of his surprisingly soft lips. Billy flashed through your mind again. Your heart dropped into your gut. How could you have let Eddie have that effect on you when Billy was waiting for you at home? The thought had your body tingling again. But not the good kind. 
Everyone awkwardly glanced at each other. You realised now that somehow Eddie had been the glue that was holding you all together. You had all bonded over your inadequacy to tolerate Eddie that, now he wasn't here, you had absolutely nothing in common.  You were unable to prevent the disappointment swarming in your chest.
"Principal Higgins is a total meat head." You broke the silence and everyone turned to you.
They all had the same sort of sorrow in their eyes. The girls agreed with you, but Steve shook his head like he didn't have any regrets.
"The freak asked for it."
The insult upset you more than it probably would have upset Eddie. "Hey! It isn't fair that Eddie gets treated like that. We all left. He saved our asses."
"Oh, get a life, Y/N."
You thought Steve was starting to come around to you after your talk on the way to the teachers lounge. You guessed not. "He sacrificed himself so we could get back here. I didn't see you volunteering."
You had wounded Steve's dignity. "I didn't want to leave in the first place. He got us into it, it's only right that he take the shit for getting us out of it." He bit back.
"You weren't forced to go!"
"Munson is a troublemaker."
"Yeah? So what does that make you?"
"Meaning what?"
"Wimp."
CCRRAASSHH!!!
Everyone turned in the direction of one of the seclusion rooms. There is a gaping hole in the ceiling where the tiles had crashed through, and Eddie splayed, stunned, on his back on the table. After catching his breath, he sat up and shook the dry plaster out of his hair. He sauntered out into the main library like nothing had happened.
"Miss me?"
"How did you do that?" You bewildered.
"Smoke and mirrors." He winked, taking his rightful seat beside you.
"Goddammit!" Footsteps came hurtling towards the library doors.
"Shit!" Eddie ducked underneath the table. 
His tall, lanky body hardly fit underneath. He shuffled upwards until his upper half was tucked between your legs. You cringed, trying so desperately to close your legs so Eddie didn't look straight up your skirt, but your legs were trapped on either side of his shoulders. 
Principal Higgins stood at the door, red-faced and puffing. "What was that ruckus?" 
"What ruckus?" You played dumb, jumping in before Steve could open his mouth and rat on Eddie. 
Higgins eyed them all up. You all sat like little angles, up straight and arms folded innocently in front of you.
"Could you describe it, Sir?" Robin asked.
"Watch your tongue, Missy."
Eddie shifted in discomfort, adjusting himself so his back didn't ache as much. He eyed your white keds. Only a slight discolouration in the laces and few specs of mud from when you had crossed the school field, but otherwise clean. He moved back slightly so he didn't get any dirt on himself. He followed his eyes up your white socks, tracing the green trim at the top of your knee. He was glad to be under the table when he flushed at the sight of your bare skin. The soft flesh of your thighs enticing him to follow higher.
There was a sudden knock from under the table from Eddie accidentally banging his head. You jolted in surprise, hitting your hands on the table to disguise the sound. The others copied, tapping their own little beats.
"What was that noise?"
"What noise?"
Eddie hoped that the sight he saw would never leave his mind. It was enough to send anyone into a cardiac arrest. His mouth hung open as he ogled straight up your skirt. You hadn't worn your spandex briefs since you weren't actually doing any cheerleading, and instead had opted for a pair of baby blue cotton panties. Eddie's mouth was watering at the excruciatingly tender bulge. In his entire life, Eddie would not be able to duplicate the raw power of this moment. Eddie's eyes were locked in a stare, hand trembling and eager to touch.
"Really, Sir, there wasn't any noise, just ---"
You shot up straight with a gasp, hands reaching underneath the table and into Eddie's hair. You could feel it tickling the skin of your thigh as his head moved further between your legs. The others looked at you with alarm. You pulled gently on his hair to urge him to stop, but couldn't find yourself putting in any effort to resist him. Your hand stayed weaved into his curled as he continued to delve in deeper. Your legs had started trembling when you felt his lips graze your inner thighs before placing a soft kiss there. Your mouth hung open in shock before you came to your senses. You quickly covered your gasp with a cough.
The others joined in and you couldn't be more grateful. The four of you sat in a coughing fit with Higgins eyeing you all suspiciously.
"What that the noise? The noise I just made. Was that it?" You thought fast.
Eddie's nose prodded at your mound. You suppressed another gasp and slammed your thighs closed around his head to stop him from moving any further. Eddie snapped out of his trance at the sudden pain on either side of his head. He slapped your leg to tap out, and you relaxed your thighs. He moved away from you, rubbing his ringing ears. When you felt him leave, you gave him a deserved kick to the arm. He hissed in pain, but Higgins hadn't heard it.
The Principal scowled. "I didn't catch you this time, but you can bet I will." He pointed a finger at you. "You!"
You tensed.
"I will not be made a fool of."
And with those final words, he stormed from the library.
Everybody held their angelic expressions for a couple beats and then, assured that Higgins was out of earshot, Steve, Nancy, and Robin break into laughter. You shoved your seat back and kicked your legs at Eddie as he scrambled out from under the front of the table. 
"You're such an asshole." 
Eddie tried to keep as serious as he could, but struggled to contain his laughter at your anger. "What?" He asked innocently.
"You know what."
"It was dark under there, it was an accident."
The others seemed to take interest in your spat. They wondered what had Eddie laughing and felt inclined to join in.
"What?" Steve asked.
"None of your business." You slumped back into your chair and crossed your arms, angry and embarrassed.
Eddie saw your wet eyes and soft pouting lips. He started to feel bad. He hadn't meant to upset you.
"I couldn't help it, okay? I'm sorry." 
You refused to look at him. He placed a gentle hand under your chin and guided your eyes to meet. His voice was much softer. "I'm sorry."
You hadn't said it out loud, but Eddie could see the forgiveness in your eyes. You relaxed under his touch, feeling the truth in his words. He smiled tenderly.
"What did you do?" Steve asked again, still hoping for a laugh. 
Eddie had clearly embarrassed you somehow. Steve thought it was only fair to get a few jokes out on you after you and the other girls had made fun at him in the hallway.
"Shut up." Eddie snapped, and the moment was over. 
He held out a hand to Steve who just looked at it in confusion. He reached like he was going to shake Eddie's hand but he slapped it away just before they clasped hands. Eddie looked at him like he was as thick as pig shit. 
"You smoke all my reefer or something? The dope, waistoid. Give it to me."
Steve's eyes lit up at the disclosure, wondering how he had managed to forget. He reached into his pants and tossed the baggie to Eddie, murmuring a 'good riddance' to it under his breath. Eddie sat back next to you and opened the bag on the table. You stared at it in curiosity.
You had never smoked weed before. You had never smoked period. But Billy did. He always tried to force you to smoke it with him, but you refused. It wasn't that you hadn't wanted to do it, it was because Billy wanted you to. It was kind of like when your parents ask you to do something and it immediately puts you off wanting to do it. He'd call you a killjoy, or Miss Priss, which always got under your skin. But what made it worse was that Billy always got horny when he was high. He struggled to contain himself around you, even when you told him no. Luckily, he had never done anything, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he would. 
You knew Eddie wouldn't be like that though. You had never seen him stoned, but there was something about him that told you smoking with Eddie would be okay. He wouldn't pressure you into trying it if you didn't want to, and if you did, that was okay too. Eddie sold weed to people all the time, heavy hitters and noobs alike. He had taught plenty of people how to smoke before. You could try it for yourself, without Billy's untoward provocation. 
He patted his pockets then looks troubled. "Do you have any papers." He asked no one in particular. 
Then with a shake of his head, he answered his own question. "Why would you dinks have papers?"
"You're not smoking in here." Nancy looked fearful.
"Yeah? Watch me."
"If you want to smoke, go back to where you were before. Before you fell through the fucking ceiling." Steve ordered on Nancy's behalf.
Eddie reached over and pretended to click a switch to turn Steve off.
"What can I use for papers?"
"A book?" You suggested.
"What about the smell?" Nancy quizzed.
Eddie regarded her off-handedly. "Take your shoes off, that'll mask the smell."
Nancy's mouth hung open in offence, She knew her feet didn't smell so the insult hadn't wounded her pride too much. But it was still embarrassing none the less. Especially in front of Steve.
Eddie ignored her and turned to you. "Book pages are too thick."
"How about dictionary pages? That paper's real thin."
Eddie looked at you impressed, eyebrows raised and a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth. The look of pride made your stomach flip. You took a great deal of pleasure at his silent praise. He walked over to the dictionary stand. 
"You can't tear up a dictionary." Robin protested. "What if somebody needs a word and you smoked it?"
Eddie ignored her, opened a dictionary and ripped out a random page. He couldn't care less if he had caused someone a minor inconvenience. There was more than one dictionary in the world.
He pointed at Nancy. "Hey Princess, watch that door. This is a police matter if we get caught."
Nancy tensed. She didn't like that idea very much. She swallowed hard. Eddie walked to the back of the library where the comfy chairs were and plonked himself down on one of the bean bags, making himself right at home.
You got up to follow. Steve looked at you completely pissed off at you for encouraging Eddie's behaviour.
"Loosen up." You scoffed.
"I'm not getting my paper written." Nancy sighed to herself.
"You know," you continued, "he's not all that bad. I'm kind of getting used to him."
"You're just bored."
"Why are you acting like this towards me, Steve?" You'd had enough of the way he was talking to you. "I thought we were fine after I apologised."
It was like when you were alone together you were fine, but in front of the others he hated your guts. You thought he had some nerve calling Eddie out at lunch for trying to keep up with his image. He was being such a hypocrite right now.
He scoffed. "It was hardly an apology."
"It was hardly an apology because I had nothing to be sorry for. I told you already what Billy did wasn't my fault."
"I know!" His voice softened. "I know."
Nancy gave him a gentle look, as if urging him to apologise. He sighed in defeat, tracing a finger along the split in his lip. Suddenly it didn't hurt as much anymore. Like holding this grudge over you was a constant reminder of the pain Billy had given him. He knew apologising was the right thing to do. He opened his mouth, but his time was up.
You shook your head in disappointment. You didn't know what you were expecting from him. Perhaps Steve wasn't as nice as you once thought. It was crazy how things had turned out. In the beginning, you thought for sure that this experience would have given you a chance to make amends with Steve, maybe even become friends of some sort. Turned out that you grew apart from Steve and found yourself feeling closer to Eddie. A notion you had never entertained in all your years at Hawkins High.
You walked away before Steve could say another word to you. 
~~~~~
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oneforthemunny · 7 months
Note
I have an idea!! trick or treating w janitor!eddie & the kids maybe or even rockstar!eddie. honestly any and all the dads going trick or treating with their kids would be fun to see :))
it's tricky |dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!nepo baby! reader|
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you can read janitor!eddie's version here and the rest of my spooky story series here!
October 31st, 1999- Hawkins, Indiana
"You got it, Kensie." You coo, grinning at her sweetly, pushing the twin's double stroller in a soothing stride over the dried, fallen leaves that littered the sidewalks.
The four year old looked back, both hands clutching the plastic orange bucket, brown eyes rounded in pure fear, horror- like she hadn't done this at least fifteen times tonight.
"Go up, Kens. Go up with Sephy." Eddie nodded, standing by the path, hands balled in his leather jacket. It was definitely different from Calabasas, that was for sure. Colder, not that Eddie minded- it felt more like Halloween.
The streets filled with kids screeching and darting around in store bought or handmade costumes, not decked in designer looking runway ready being paraded around by their parents on golf carts. It was for the kids, not a social event. Plastic bowls filled with real candy, not whatever the fuck fruit leather is. That had finalized his decision to spend Halloween in Hawkins this year- give the girls a real Halloween.
Persephone gave her sister a bored look, eyes rolling when they met Eddie's with an unamused expression- she looked just like you. "Daddy, she's not going. She's scared." Persephone huffed, five years old and full of sass.
Eddie bit back a smirk. "Go ahead." He nodded towards her. "Kens, if you're not gonna go up, then come stand back here with me."
"No." Kensington shook her head. "You come with me."
Eddie blinked. Every atom in his body screamed "no". He was back in his hometown, with all the fuckers who never left and used to make his life a living hell. Yeah, he'd done better than anyone ever expected, that was an understatement, but he was in their arena here. On their turf.
"Kens, just go with your sister." Eddie countered, crouching to her level. "I'm right here."
"But I want you to come with me." Kensie pouted, arms crossed over her Belle costume, curls slipping out of the bun. "I don't wanna go alone."
The little shake in her voice, eyes rounding nearly pitifully, Eddie knew he was done for, hand reaching to hers, walking up the cobbled steps. You smirked, adjusting the blankets over the twins. He was such a push over now.
Eddie grimaced, heart pounding with dread when Kensington jammed a gloved finger into the doorbell. The door opened, an older man with a bright, festive bowl opening the door.
"Oh, hello there! Look at you." He grinned down at Kensie, her body curling into Eddie's leg, shy at the attention and the stranger.
"What do you say, huh?" Eddie muttered, hand rubbing down her back sweetly.
"Trick-or-Treat." Kensie squeaked, holding her bucket out slightly.
"There you go." The man laughed, dropping a colorful wrapper into her plastic pumpkin. "Have a good- Munson?"
Eddie's eyes snapped, meeting the man's eyes, face falling slightly. "No shit." Eddie muttered, eyes snapping to Kensie carefully. "Principal Higgins?"
"So it is you?" Higgins hummed, lips pressed together, bowl hugged to his hip.
Eddie could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Suddenly, he was seventeen again, being told he wasn't graduating on time. "Yeah, yeah, it is."
"Thought you were in Hollywood?" Higgins' eyes narrowed.
"We live in Calabasas." Persephone chirped, head poking around Eddie's leg. "Not Hollywood."
Eddie cringed slightly, shoulders tense. Higgins didn't scoff, didn't snap at her, no back handed comment- no. He smiled. Laughed.
"I'm guessing these two are yours?" He grinned at Eddie.
"Yeah, and the other two in the stroller- twins." Eddie pointed behind him. "They're with my wife right now."
"Right. The film producer's daughter?" Higgins asked. Eddie nodded, chest boasting with pride.
"Well, gotta admit, I never thought the kid that flipped me off when he finally graduated would do that much in life," Higgins looked at Eddie, eyes crinkling slightly in a smile. "But looks like you did really good for yourself, Edward. Congratulations."
"Thank you. I have." Eddie nodded, hand smoothing down Kensie's curls. "Good to see you, Higgins."
"You too, Edward. Happy Halloween." Higgins waved, shutting the door behind him.
"What candy did you get?" You asked, eyes bright when you looked at Persephone.
"I got Skittles." Persephone grinned, tilting her basket so you could see.
"Oh, you know those are my favorite." You grinned, pushing the stroller down the path with one hand, your free one grabbing Persephone's gloved hand to hold. "Will you share with me?"
"I guess." Persephone shrugged. "Can I go?" She asked, looking at Kensie and Eddie trailing behind the two of you.
"Sure, go ahead. Make sure you say 'thank you.'" You nodded. Her bright pink costume stood out even in the night time. She had insisted on being the pink Power Ranger, so you had a custom costume made. Not as fancy as the other mothers in Calabasas did, but nicer- warmer too. Fleece lined and thick so she didn't have to wear a jacket. It kills the look.
"Kensie, are you going?" You asked, looking at the small girl who had made her way into Eddie's arms.
"No." Kensie shook her head, face rubbing into Eddie's neck sleepily. "Can I sit in the stroller, Mama?"
"The stroller?" You asked, tone light and playful, hoping to keep her crankiness away. "There's no room in there for you, silly girl."
"But I want to." Kensie whined, lip jutting dramatically.
"Hey, stop that." Eddie warned. "I'm holding you. You don't need to go in the stroller."
Kensie's face twisted, nose scrunching furiously. "I want Mama to hold me." She reached towards you.
"Ok," You hummed, taking her in your arms, ignoring Eddie's protests. "I think I need to take the twins back anyways before they wake up, so we'll go back to Grandpa Wayne's, and Daddy will stay with Sephy."
"You know how to get back?" Eddie asked.
"Do I know how to walk in a straight line back to the house?" You lifted a brow. "Yeah, I think I've got it." Your tone clipped, rolling your eyes.
Eddie's lips twisted, rolling his own eyes. "Alright, Princess. We won't be too long." He muttered, pressing a kiss to your cold cheek.
"C'mon, Kensie. Let's go show Grandpa all your candy you got." You hum, one hand cradling her, the other pushing the stroller.
You made it look too easy, Eddie thought, eyes shining in pure wonder, total adoration at you. His bratty Beverly Hills girl turned into a mom- a good mom.
"Daddy, look!" Persephone giggled, waving the bright orange wrapper in Eddie's face. "I got a pumpkin one." She grinned proudly, the Reese's held between her gloved hands.
"Ooh, this is the good house, huh? We gotta remember that for next year. Maybe bring a couple costumes so you can keep going back, you think that would work?" Eddie grinned at the laugh Persephone gave.
"No," Persephone giggled, taking Eddie's hand while they walked to the next house. "They would 'member."
"Yeah, you're probably right." Eddie smiled, squeezing her hand lightly. "I think Grandpa has some back at the house anyways. I bet if you ask real nice he'll give you one."
"He already gave me one last night." Persephone said smugly. "Before bed, but he said not to tell you or-or you'd eat them all."
Eddie feigned shock, like he didn't see the whole "sneaky" interaction. Wayne pulling open the Snoopy cookie jar filled with candy, sneaking her one with a wink, finger pressed over his lips.
"He did?" Eddie gasped, Persephone giggling and nodding. "And you didn't share with me?"
"No," Persephone shook her head at him dramatically. "Grandpa gave it to me. You-You woulda ate it all!" She pointed at him.
Eddie's heart swelled with warmth, dimpled creased smile on his face. "Yeah, you're probably right, kid." He shrugged. "Will you at least tell me where he hid them?"
"No." Persephone shook her head. "But I'll let you have one of mine... and the dots."
"The dots?" Eddie's nose scrunched dramatically. "You're giving me the bad candy?"
"Yeah." Persephone chirped. "You can have what I don't want."
Eddie snorted. She was such your kid sometimes. "Thanks, kid. Make sure you say thank you, alright?" He patted her back lightly, leaning against the fence while she darted away in a flash of neon pink.
Bonus:
"This shit is so gross." Eddie gagged, chewing the impossibly stale but somehow chewy candy. "Who the fuck eats this?" He looked at the bright yellow box of Dots.
"You apparently." You giggled, feet in his lap, a pile of wrappers between the two of you.
The girls had gone to bed hours ago. Persephone was true to her word, leaving you and Eddie her rejects and one Reese's pumpkin. Luckily, Kensie had a few better options you sifted through.
Hocus Pocus played on a loop on the TV in front of you, volume lowered to a hush in the guest room of the Hawkins' home. "Stop eating it." You laughed, slapping the box lightly out of Eddie's hand when he ate another, retching dramatically again.
"It's so bad," Eddie shook his head, face puckered in disgust. "And I can't stop eating them."
"Here," You tossed him a Snickers. "Cleanse your pallet with this, you freak."
Eddie grinned, finger gliding under your foot playfully, making you squeal. "How's the baby doing?"
"They're down still, I think. I haven't heard them-"
"-No," Eddie shook his head, nodding towards you.
"Oh," You hummed, hand gliding down your tummy. You hadn't even started to show yet. "They're good. Liking the candy."
"I think it's a boy this time." Eddie grinned wide and bright, it made your heart skip. "You're less sick this time. You're always sick with girls."
"Yeah, maybe." You nod, unwrapping a Skittles bag. "Could be triplets this time, knowing our luck."
Eddie snorted, nearly choking on his candy. "Can you imagine?"
"A nightmare." You roll your eyes. "The twins almost killed me. I was huge."
"Yeah," Eddie's eyes darkened, grin spreading wider and wider. "You looked so fuckin' hot."
You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You're sick, Munson."
"I've been told that a few times before." Eddie smirked. "Never heard you complain though. You like it when I'm a little sick, don't you, baby." Eddie growled, tossing the candy to the side, hand wrapped around your ankle to pull you closer.
You squealed, drug through the pile of candy playfully, Eddie's wild curls silhouetted by the glow of the screen. He crawled over you, knees on either side of your hips, straddling you, hands by your head- a familiar position. A dangerous position.
Eddie's head ducked down, bangs tickling your forehead, lips pressed to yours while your legs wrapped around his waist, hands tangling in his hair.
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Text
It's Called Murder, Baby!
A Scream x Stranger Things AU
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Part II
Read Part I Here
Synopsis: A string of gruesome murders takes a toll on the small town of Hawkins. Friends and family start looking like suspects making it hard to trust those who you are closest to.
Chapter Summary: A killer is still on the loose with the whole town on edge. Was this a single incident or is there more to come? Hopper puts his foot down leaving things tense with you and Steve.
18+ Only! Minors DNI!
This work will contain elements of violent themes (depictions of crime scenes, murders, etc) and smut. This is a slasher fic!
Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. AFAB!Reader. Graphic character deaths/murders - depictions of how they were found after the murder. Semi-Public Sex. Oral (m receiving). Pet names. Choking. Degradation. Smoking marijuana. P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.
Word Count: 5.3K
In all of Jim’s twenty plus years on the force, he thought he’d seen it all. Hawkins had its share of crime, but murder was never high on that list. The usually quiet town had only seen something of this caliber once before.
He was here 10 years ago when Principal Higgin’s was strung up by his feet and found hanging on the goal post at Hawkin’s High football field, sliced open from neck to navel like a freshly killed deer ready for processing. It was gruesome and bloody. They had never seen anything like it and hoped they’d never have to deal with something like it again.
The murders of Jason and Chrissy brought a whole new meaning to what he’d thought he’d seen.
Jason was found tied to a chair. He had been stabbed at least ten times before his throat ultimately slit. They were still unsure if he was already dead before his neck was reached.
Chrissy was found a few feet away, strung up by her feet. Rope tied to the second-floor landing, extending over the living room. In eerily similar fashion to that murder 10 years ago, she was also gutted.
It was as if Jason had been made to watch. This was brutal and seemed personal.
He had the file spread out across his desk, looking and relooking at all the evidence as he reached for another smoke. He’d been chain smoking since he’d left the crime scene this morning.
It was now well past two in the afternoon, and he was no closer to figuring this shit out. It was going to be a long night.
A knock came at his door followed by Deputy Callahan poking his head in.
“Yeah?” Came his gruff voice, already irritated by the younger man’s presence. Callahan was a constant pest.
“Hey Sheriff, uh, sorry to bother you, but I thought you might like to see today’s paper.” The shit eating smirk on his face told a different story.
Callahan waltzes over, handing him the latest edition.
He read the headline and briefly skimmed the article underneath.
“Meeting, now!” He finally huffed, reddened face on display. Callahan didn’t miss a beat.
“On it, sir.”
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It wasn’t unusual to have an “emergency” meeting at the station, especially with the way the morning had gone.
Steve was settled at his desk, Robin was sitting across from him rambling about something he wasn’t paying much attention to, still too distracted by the evidence before him. Looking at it all as if he would magically see something they had missed.
Callahan hadn’t even bothered knocking, door opening with a crooked grin.
“Meeting, Sheriff’s office. Now.”
Robin looked at Steve and shrugged.
Everyone shuffled into the room, cramming into the corners trying to fit into the small office.
Hopper was unusually quiet, not meeting anyone’s gaze as they filed in. Steve immediately clocked the newspaper he had folded in his hand.
Powell was the last, closing the door behind him. As soon as it clicked into place Hopper spoke up.
“I don’t think I should have to remind you all how delicate a case like this is.” Everyone nodded in agreement as he finally looked around.
“Yes. Yes, sir. Yes, Sheriff.” Came from around the room.
“So, who the fuck talked to the press?” He threw the paper on the desk, unfurling to reveal the headline. His finger pinning it and pointing to your article.
Steve maintained his composure, but he wanted to rip his hair out. He hadn’t seen the paper yet, so he stepped up reading the contents, Robin shuffled right in beside him.
His jaw tightened. He hadn’t told you anything about the mask they had found.
A few more seconds ticked by. Steve finally stepped back catching Callahan looking straight at him, that same smirk plastered to his face from earlier.
Little Fucker, Steve thought.
Jim groaned as he sat back down, before finally speaking again. “Powell, Callahan. Get out and close the door.”
Wasting no time, quickly doing as they were told to make sure to stay on Hopper’s good side. Callahan skirted past Steve, smiling as he went. Steve was already seething with his fists clenched tightly to his sides. If looks could kill, the other would have been a dead man.
Robin clutched the paper reading it more carefully, as she took the seat in front of his desk.
Steve strolled up behind her, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Look,” Jim sighed, looking right at him. “I don’t care what the hell you do after hours but do not let it interfere with my investigation.”
“Hop,” Robin went to interject but was quickly cut off.
“Let me finish,” She snapped her mouth shut and nodded. “Unfortunately, I know it had to have been one of you. No one outside of this room knew about that goddamn mask.”
He let his words wash over them both. Robin’s shoulders sank as she sat further into her seat. He noticed Steve’s jaw clench.
“Callahan had a run in with her here today in the station. Care to explain?” He sat back, reaching for yet again for another smoke. Joyce would kill him if she knew how many he’d had today.
“Hop, I swear,” Robin was the first to crack, always was. “She just came in for a visit. We had coffee…” She trailed off when she felt Steve’s hand rest on her shoulder.
“She came in to talk to me,” Steve looked Jim in the eye as he spoke. “But I swear to God I didn't say a word about that fucking mask.”
Hopper sighed; he knew Steve would never undermine him like that.
He nodded. “No more press in the station until this shit is over. Not even her.”
“Yes sir,” they stated in unison.
“Ok then, who else could have known?”
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Steve trudged out of Hopper's office in a huff, with Robin hot on his heels as she followed him back into his office, shutting the door behind them.
“Steve,” she started.
“Don't.” He sat down, with a sigh as he opened the folder once again in front of him and rubbed his hands down his face.
“You didn't tell her that, did you?” She asked quietly before taking the chair in front of him, eyes worrying over him. Surely, he wasn't that stupid?
“Of course not,” he scoffed, incredulously. “You know better than that.”
“Right, yeah, I know… but you two are… close.” She wouldn’t dare meet his eyes after it slipped out.
“Close, yeah. But I wouldn't jeopardize an investigation like that.” She nodded, as he got up wearily from his seat.
‘Hey, where are you going?” She shouted as he was halfway out the door.
“To get some answers.”
The copier was currently holding your paper hostage, as it got lodged in the rollers. Cursing the damn thing as you started the process of digging it out.
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Nancy walked by just in time to see you struggling.
“There you are, heads up. Trouble is headed this way.” You looked over her shoulder in time to catch Steve's stern face looking right at you as he stepped through the door.
“Shit,” you breathed out.
She gave you a wry, pitying look before leaving you to it.
“Hey Steve, I…” you began, but he grabbed your bicep pulling you along with him, giving you no choice but to follow. He dragged you into the small conference room down the hall in which you two frequently met.
Only letting you go once you were both in, shutting the door. He was unusually quiet, eyes lingering down as if contemplating what needed to be said.
“So, I take it, you've seen the paper?” You asked softly.
He nodded, “Who told you about the mask?”
You knew it would come, but you were prepared.
“It was an anonymous source, and I took the chance.” You shrugged.
“Anonymous source? Who?” He narrowed his gaze, but you stood your ground, standing up a little straighter crossing your arms over your chest.
“I don't know, Steven, it was an anonymous tip. They didn't quite let me catch their name before they hung up.”
“Right, like you don't know. So why would you run it if you didn't know if it was true?” He stepped closer into your space.
“I just had a gut feeling. Looks like I was right if you're here.” Gesturing toward him.
He planted his hands on his hips, looking down his nose at you trying to look intimidating, only managing to turn you on instead.
“Yeah, and now Hop is on my ass thinking that I leaked it. You sure you didn't see something in that file on my desk?”
“And when would I have done that? While I was in your lap, and you were balls deep? You were there too. I didn't snoop in your fucking file.” You start turning away from him, tired of the questioning.
“Wait, look,” his hand wraps softly around your wrist, catching you from moving too far away from him.
“I'm sorry, I know you didn't snoop. This is just a big case, Hops worried about making sure it isn't fucked up.” You nodded, secretly relishing the way you could easily get him worked up and then he’s always the first to apologize.
“I know Steve, I wouldn't do something to compromise your job. You should know that.”
He absentmindedly bit his lower lip, his mind in overdrive once again.
“I've got to get back to the Station. I'll be there late tonight.”
He turned and headed back out into the newsroom. Turning heads as he went, permanent scowl etched onto his face.
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It was getting late in the evening, around 8 pm. Eddie should have been by to pick you up at 6 but had called earlier saying he was running late.
“Sorry sweetheart, boss wants me to stay and finish up this last car that came in today.” He had said.
You were the only one left in the building. Nancy had offered to take you home, but you didn't want to be an inconvenience.
You were doing some research on another story Tom had assigned you, paying little attention to anything else around you.
The doors were locked. All the lights were low except the one still at your desk, head buried in a pile of copy you were looking over.
It was then you heard a sharp screech, as if a door creaked open making your head shoot up. You stood, walking slowly to the doorway leading to the back of the building, listening closely for any other sounds.
You rounded the corner that led to a narrow hall, and beyond that was the back of the building. There was only one exit door in the back, and you were sure that Tom had locked it on his way out.
“Hello? Is someone there?” You shouted down the darkened hall. No sounds or movements from that direction. Heart beating heavy in your chest as your eyes adjusted to see further into the dark but there was nothing and no one.
“Shit, get a grip.” You hissed to yourself.
You turned to go back to your desk, bumping into something very solid, as you jumped and let out a small squeak of surprise. His hand wrapping around your waist, steading you. Looking up into a familiar face with deep hazel eyes immediately calmed your now jangled nerves.
“Shit Steve, you didn’t have to sneak up on me.” Your heart still beating rapidly.
“I was checking the doors. The back was unlocked. Why aren’t you being more careful? There's still a killer on the loose.” He looked worried then, always caring about your well-being. He brushed the loose strands of hair behind your ear that had fallen after a long day, cupping your cheek in the process.
“Good thing I have a big, bad Sheriff to keep an eye out for me.” You smiled, as his gaze softened.
“Eddie coming to pick you up?” He whispered, inching closer to you. Crowding into you even further, closing the distance, pushing you into the wall as your back came to rest against it.
You nod. “He's just running a little late.”
“I’d never keep you waiting,” he mumbled against your lips, letting them finally meld into yours as you hummed in response, he let his other hand meet your hip, pulling you back into him.
“Stevie, I… I can't. He'll be here any minute.” You breathed out, pushing him away slightly.
He nodded, kissing your forehead tenderly before pulling completely away, immediately missing the warmth his body provided.
“Steve, wait, I'm sorry about the paper. Sometimes I just get ahead of myself and don't think about who else it might affect.” You placed your palm to his cheek, forcing his eyes on you.
Your other hand trailed the length of his shirt, past his belt, firmly cupping his bulge as he sucked in a sharp breath.
“I don't have a lot of time, but I could still make it up to you.” You whispered, looking up at him innocently.
“Let me make it up to you.” You gripped the front of his shirt, as he held out his hand to help lower you to the floor.
Your knees hit the hard linoleum with a small thump, as he allowed himself to bump into the wall behind him.
He looked down at you with an affection that suddenly made your chest ache. You were expecting lust, not his doe eyes sparkling in the low light.
He removed his duty belt, sitting it on the table to the side of you.
“Stevie, don't look at me like that.”
“Like what, honey?”
You looked ahead, choosing to ignore him instead, popping the button on his slacks and undoing his zipper slowly, his cock beginning to strain against his confinements as you reached into his briefs, fingers wrapping around the base. He let out a small moan, as he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall.
His cock kicked up with your touch, engorging further, growing to his full length before your eyes. You licked your lips as your mouth began to salivate.
You moved your hand up his velvety length, collecting the growing bead of pearlescent precum at his slit, letting your thumb slowly spread it across his head before bringing it back down.
“Fuck,” he moaned out, every touch sending electricity through his veins, as if he hadn't already been inside of you earlier today.
You held his base, and kitten licked at his head, eliciting more breathy moans as you began to kiss up and back down his hard cock at a torturous pace before finally wrapping your lips around his head, swirling your tongue and sucking lightly before taking as much of him into your mouth that you could fit. Slowly bobbing your head and then picking up the pace, working in tandem with the hand wrapped around the rest of him.
You gagged just a bit, when he nudged the back of your throat a little too hard from your own eagerness.
He looked back down at the sound, cupping your cheek gently, thumb softly caressing you,
“Hey, hey take it easy baby doll. Can't make a mess of this pretty little face right now. Just take it easy honey.”
You nodded, bobbing your head slowly once again.
“That's it baby doll. Slow and steady now.”
You free hand toys with his balls, rolling them deftly between your fingers.
“Oh shit, yeah. Just like that baby.” He cooed.
You speed up your movements on his length, feeling his sack tense and draw up a bit from the change in pace.
“That's it, baby doll, I'm about to cum already. Can I cum in that pretty mouth?”
You nodded as he grunted and spilled down your throat, relaxing a bit more so you could swallow as much as possible. The salty, tangy taste had you humming around him.
His cock twitched once more before stilling, as you moved off of him with a slight pop, wiping the drool and any of him that escaped down the side of your mouth. You wrapped your lips around your finger, licking it off, not letting a single drop go to waste.
“C’mere,” giving you his hand once again to help you up, winching as you felt the pain in your knees from being in the latter position.
“I…” you were about to speak, as headlights cut through the blinds, illuminating you both.
“Shit,” he hissed, drawing back, putting himself away and grabbing for his belt before securing it back around his waist.
“It's Eddie. He'll be ok for a few minutes.” You straightened your rumpled shirt, smoothing some errant stray hairs back into place.
You grabbed your purse, as he finished fixing his clothes.
“Come on, I'll have to lock up behind you. Walk me out.”
He followed closely, Eddie's eyes cut to the both of you upon exit, taking a slow drag of the cigarette held tightly between his lips.
He rolled down his window as you cut in front of the van to climb into the passenger seat.
“Evening Harrington,” he grinned. “Out on patrol?”
Steve glared, licking his lips before striding up the van, clearing his throat a bit.
“Eddie,” nodding toward the other man. “Just checking some doors around town. Y/N would forget her head sometimes.”
“Yeah,” he clicked his tongue, “yeah she would.” He looked over to you as you rolled your eyes back at him. You leaned over as he met you halfway placing a soft kiss to his lips.
“Thanks for checking on me Steve.” Throwing him a soft smile and wink, sitting back into the seat as your seatbelt clicked into place.
Eddie smirked, tapping his fingers against the top of the door. Steve caught sight of the newly formed bruises and scratches there.
“Yeah, Steve,” grabbing your hand from the console, pulling it in for a soft kiss, before turning back to him, “thanks for checking on my girl.”
“No problem. Nasty cuts you got there.” Nodding his chin toward them.
Eddie flexed his hand, “Yeap, caught it on a bitch of a radiator yesterday.”
Steve, growing tired of the awkward small talk, decided to take his leave.
“Well, you two be careful.” Patting the side of the van, turning back in the direction of the station.
“See ya’ around Stevie.” Eddie called out, chuckling loudly, sliding the gear shift into reverse, backing out from his spot.
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“You don't have to be rude to him.” You scolded as he pulled out onto the road.
“He's just so easy to fuck with babe. I can't help it. Especially when he's so smug thinking you two are cheating behind my back.” He laughed deeply.
“He’s not smug about it. He worries about you catching us all the time.”
“Good. He should be.”
Eddie took a left, instead of the right back to your house.
“Where are we going?” You asked but he didn't answer right away, grin only growing wider, more devilish looking.
“Don't worry baby, it's a nice night for a drive. Thought we might go parking.”
“Parking, huh? Wanna do it in the back of the van, like in high school?” You comically lifted your brow. “How romantic.”
“I'm just kidding, unless you wanna?” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, that had you laughing.
It was always the little moments with Eddie. He'd know exactly how to make you laugh or quell your nerves after a long day. You trusted him wholly.
“I wanted to take you to a spot I found the other day. Wanted to share a joint and see where the night takes us.”
“You do know there's a killer on the loose, right?”
“You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. You're safe with me.” Somehow you knew he was telling the truth.
He took you further out of the main city, a few more twists and turns, you were thoroughly lost. Never one with a good sense of direction. Kicking your heels off and tossing them in the back, you got more comfortable, pulling your legs under you.
Asphalt turned into gravel, as he slowed to a roll, finally throwing the van into park at a clearing.
You looked out the windshield, it was a clear night. Moon brightly reflecting off of Lover's Lake, small waves cresting on the shore in front of you.
Though this wasn't a new spot like he'd said, it was your spot. You recognized the big tree directly by the lake.
“Surprise,” he sang out.
“This isn't a new spot, Eddie.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Sue me.” He laughs, digging into the pocket of his jumpsuit, producing a pre-rolled joint, bringing it to his lips.
“You’ve been a naughty girl today.” Stating it matter-of-factly. Lighting the end, sucking lightly until he knows it's lit.
He looks at you, eyes hooded, dropping his voice a little deeper. “Haven't you sweetheart?”
His words ignited your core. You knew that tone well.
He offered it to you, taking it gingerly, bringing it to your own lips inhaling the sweet strain as he intensely watched your movements.
“And you,” pointing over at him, “have always been a very jealous boyfriend.”
He scoffs, taking it back from you, letting it wash over him.
“If I was jealous, I wouldn't let you whore around with him all over town.”
You laughed out, clear and bright as the weed began to flow through your system.
“Let's get one thing straight, you've never told me to do anything in this relationship. I do what I want.”
He slowly places the joint in the ashtray, and then moves quickly before you have time to react, pinning you by the throat pushing you into the passenger seat, rings biting into the tender flesh. You gasped out, reaching up to grab his hand.
“Sweetheart, maybe it's time to put that mouth to some good use.” He whispered close to your ear.
“Maybe I already did.” You grinned wickedly at him.
“You little whore, kissing me with that mouth after his cock’s been shoved halfway down your throat?” His fingers tightened, as you nodded.
“Bet his cum’s still lingering on your tongue. Huh?”
“Mmmmm, yeah baby. He finished right before you pulled in to pick me up.”
He removed his hand from your throat to pinch your cheeks harshly, forcing your lips into a sweet pout, as he roughly brings his lips to yours, you close your eyes, humming in contentment.
You felt him smirk against you, pulling back slightly, “You’re fucking filthy baby. How'd I get so lucky? Hey, look at me.” You snapped your eyes open to see his own blown wide with lust, so dark they were almost black.
“Get in the back. Take your clothes off.”
You didn't hesitate, as he finally released you, climbing over the console as quickly as you could. He picked up what was left of his joint, inhaling deeply, letting it sit in his lungs a moment before exhaling.
Eddie kept the back of the van clean, a spare blanket folded into the corner just for occasions like this to save your knees or ass from a wicked carpet burn. You had learned from experience.
You carefully unfolded it and smoothed out the edges. He was still smoking and concentrating on the water beyond the window, like his mind was elsewhere.
Unbuttoning your blouse, and quickly shimmying out of your skirt leaving you in just your panties and bra you laid down, awaiting your next instruction.
“I said take your clothes off. That means everything.” He spoke without looking back.
You quickly shed the offending articles.
“Good girl.” He purred, finally facing you to get a good look.
“Open your legs, yeah, that's it baby.” He had a perfect view of your cunt, untouched but already dripping.
“Go ahead, touch yourself f’me.” Slowly reaching down between your thighs, taking some slick from your leaking hole, bringing it back up as you slowly start to draw circles around your clit.
“Oooooh, Eddie,” you moaned, throwing your head back at the feeling, already worked up from sucking Steve off.
“Eyes on me baby.” You look up just in time to see him pushing his coveralls past his hips, his cock straining his boxers. He pulled those down slightly, freeing his already hard cock.
It had you licking your lips at the sight. He didn’t quite have the girth that Steve does, but he was just a little longer, with a slight curve upward.
He spit in his hand before wrapping it around the base, hissing out, sliding it up and back down, setting a slow pace as he watched you torturously toy with your bundle of nerves.
“That's it sweetness, go ahead finger fuck that tight pussy.” Moving your fingers down, you easily slid two in, whining out and arching your back. You began to rock your palm into your clit as your fingers slid in and out.
“Bet you wish that was my cock instead? Huh?” You nodded, mouth going slack at the feeling as another whine escaped but you needed more. You needed him.
“Please, Eds. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.”
“Jesus, you are a greedy whore. Two of your holes stuffed already today and you still want more?” He chuckled but opened his door exiting to move around to the back. He didn’t intend to leave you hanging. He needed your cunt wrapped around him just as much as you needed him to fill you.
The back doors opened with a flush of cold air, as he quickly worked to push his coveralls down climbing in to meet you, shutting the door behind him. He removed his shirt and threw it in the corner to meet your own pile of clothes.
You turned yourself around to face him, as he crawls in-between your thighs, pushing them further apart as he made his way up.
He trailed hot, open mouth kisses along your sternum before turning his attention to your pebbled nipples. Quickly drawing one into his mouth, sucking sharply. Palming your neglected breast with his free hand.
“Oh Eddie,” you thread your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip on his curls when you feel him bite down.
“Oh fuck!” You squealed, as he releases his mouth, bringing it to the other repeating the same motions.
He continued his journey upward, laving his tongue up your breasts, neck and jaw.
His arms finally cage you in, as his body pushes you further into the floor. You wrap your legs around his lithe waist, as he pushes his hips down, rolling them into yours letting his cock brush through your folds.
“Eddie, please.” You gripped his shoulders, throwing your head back as his ruddy tip nudged your clit, sending sparks through your core and up your spine.
“Eddie, please.” He mocked, high pitched and whiny. His lips kissed up your jaw as he found the shell of your ear. “Such a needy little whore.”
He braced himself with one arm by your head, taking his length with the other bringing his leaking tip to your entrance.
He caught your entrance and slightly pushed in, but it already has you arching into him. He watches himself slowly disappear into your tight heat, inch by inch.
“Fuck, baby. She's sucking me in. So, fucking tight.” He lowers his forehead to yours savoring the sensation for a moment, before he quickly grips your thigh, pushing it higher onto his hip as he's pulling almost all the way out, just to sink straight back in.
“Oh fuck… mmmmm… Eddie.”
He rocks his hips back and forth, setting a now brutal pace that has you both moaning and crying out.
He then ceases his movements momentarily, pulling up slightly, only to push your knees to your chest. The new angle has him reaching impossibly deeper as he begins giving you long, slow strokes. It’s his favorite view. Your tight cunt swallowing him whole. He can barely tear his eyes away.
“Fuck, look at you. Already so drunk on my cock and she's taking me so well.” Now watching your fucked out face. Eyes closed, heard thrown back and mouth slack with moans and expletives spilling out.
His words spur that flame within you, only burning hotter with each drag of his cock along your frontal wall. Your pussy flutters around him.
He lifted up, placing his hand around your throat, picking up his pace once more. Grip growing tighter with every thrust. You expect finger shaped bruises to be blooming in the morning.
The sounds of skin slapping skin along with the moans pulled from you and the grunts from Eddie fill the back of the van. You were getting close as your cunt pulsed around his thick, fat cock.
“I can feel her baby, she's getting tighter. You need to cum huh? Tell me who's pussy this is. And I’ll let you cum.”
He loosened his grip so you could speak.
You gasped as the newly found air entered your lungs, “It's yours Eddie, she's all yours.”
“That's… fucking… right.” Punctuating each word with a thrust. He moved his deft fingers down your body, resting for a moment on your mound, before his thumb began rubbing harsh circles to your clit.
“I know you're close. Cum with me baby.”
It only took a few more thrusts, with his thumb never ceasing its movements, you were coming undone. Your pussy clamped down around him with such a force it almost pushed him out.
“Oh fuck, Eddie!” You cried out as your orgasm hit with a blinding force. Your toes curled, as your whole body felt like a livewire.
“Goddamn, baby. You're strangling me.” He hissed out.
He regained his composure, pounding into you, chasing his own high. A few more sloppy pumps and he will spilling into you, thick ropes of his release filling you to the brim.
“Fuck baby.” He kissed your forehead as you caught your breath.
“Fuck, Eds.” You giggled.
He pulled his softening cock from you, watching as some of his spend leaked from you.
“What a beautiful site,” he whispered, moving out of your space to retrieve your underwear, sliding them back up your legs to keep the mess contained then leaning down to place a kiss on your mound. Such a tender gesture.
“Sorry, I don't have anything to clean you up baby.” Kissing your knee as you bent up to retrieve your clothes.
“It's ok Eds, we'll shower when we get home.” You cupped his cheek as he nuzzled into your palm briefly. You both dressed and got back into the front seats.
He headed home at a leisurely pace, both content to ride in the peace and quiet of the night.
You watched the streetlights pass, growing more frequent the closer you got into town.
You'd only passed one other vehicle on the way back in. Hawkins was on edge, houses shut tight and barely any lights to be seen. It was eerie to say the least. All hoping this was a single incident, but a killer was still on the loose.
He slowed at a stop sign, before making the turn back to your house and in the distance, you saw the glow of cruiser lights.
“Oh great, what now?” He huffed. Your attention already trained ahead.
“I don't know, but I've got a really bad feeling.”
He slowly rolled past the scene. Two cruisers and the medical examiners van were parked out front of one of the newer homes on Elm Street.
“Doesn’t Chase Owen live there?” You asked.
“How the hell should I know baby, haven’t heard from that asshat since high school.”
There was a deputy stationed out front, he waved the van through. Trying to quickly get rid of any rubberneckers that dared to pass by.
You caught his eyes, Steve, looking at you with this unreadable expression as he quickly looked away.
You would come to realize Jason and Chrissy were just the warmup.
Soon, the body count would rise, and it was going to get messy.
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@barbedwirebats I know you wanted to be tagged!
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ratridingaskateboard · 2 months
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Tear You Apart
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Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader!
TW: 18+, wet dream, p in v, cursing, bdsm, sexual acts, sexual fantasies, etc.
A/N: The trigger warnings would be too long if I mentioned every sexual act ever done in this story. We would be here all day!!
Synopsis: Eddie has had a crush on Y/n since the day she stepped foot into Hawkins High School. After constantly fantasizing about her, will fantasy finally become a reality?
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The second Y/n waltzed her way into the main hall of Hawkins High, Eddie was awe-struck. She was clad in a bleached jean jacket capped in patches and pins of metal and rock bands. Many of them Eddie hadn’t even heard of. The Black Sabbath t-shirt she wore had been ripped to shreds, showing only a tanktop underneath. Her plaid red skirt swayed as she walked and had boys and girls anticipating for a gush of wind to reveal what was hidden under that scanty piece of clothing. To no one’s surprise, within minutes of walking in she was quickly pulled into the principal’s office for dress code violations.
The hall had erupted into gossip over who this mystery girl was. No one at Hawkins had a single clue who she was or why she chose their school to be graced with her presence. Eddie had never seen anyone like her in Hawkins, if he had he would’ve known. Just seeing what she was wearing made the blood rush to his cheeks but the second he saw her patched covered jacket he was practically on his knees.
This was his chance to finally get with a girl who he shared similar interests with. Don’t get him wrong, Eddie loved getting laid no matter what type of girl it was. But most girls had little to no interest in Eddie, they just wanted to see what it was like to fuck the school freak. They didn’t complain but they didn’t speak about it either. He was, to put it simply, a conquest. Now he had the ability to be around someone who, he hoped, wouldn’t shun him away like the others.
Eddie’s friends gathered around him at his locker, passing comments about the new girl and her clothing.
“God- I hope they don’t give her a pair of pants to wear.” Gareth hissed under his breath.
“I think I saw her bra underneath her shirt” Jeff added.
“The second you guys see a girl you are like dogs! I am surrounded by barbarians!” Dustin was quick to be the voice of reason. It was hard for teenage boys to view any girl as a person much less a girl who showed a little skin.
“You’re right Dustin. Did you see her jacket? It was covered in Metal patches. She seems cool.” Eddie finally added.
“Sorry Eddie- I was a little busy looking at other pieces of clothing she was wearing.” Gareth said.
Eddie rolled his eyes. One of the things Wayne had taught Eddie once he had reached puberty was to be a gentleman. Apparently, Gareth was not given this pep talk. Obviously, Eddie was attracted to her but he had to push down the want to tear her clothes off in order to form a relationship with her.
Hours had passed and she was still no where to be seen. Eddie assumed the principal must have sent her home with the list of violations she had achieved on the first 15 minutes she was inside the school.
Lunch was no different than usual except for the extra chatter of the mysterious new girl and her fondness for revealing clothing. Eddie pushed the food around on his lunch tray, disgusted by the unknown meat with the rancid smell.
“Hey-“ A gentle hand pressed against Eddie’s shoulder. The smell of cigarettes and vanilla filled his nostrils. Eddie looked up to see his friends wide eyed, staring at this unknown figure behind him.
“I like your Dio patch. That’s my favorite album by them.”
Eddie moved his neck to look at her but he found himself too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. Instead, his eyes focused on the jacket she wore, naming each band in his head- trying to get his mind off the absolute fool he was making of himself.
Shit, her hand was still on his shoulder. His face turned to a shade of red he didn’t believe was possible to achieve unless in scorching hot weather.
“Don’t mean to be an asshole but your sewing isn’t the best.” She traced a line with her finger against the trim of the patch. Eddie could still feel the softness of her fingertips even through the denim of jacket and cotton of his shift. Suddenly, Eddie felt the warmth of her breath against his ear.
“If you ever need someone to teach you, I would love to.”
Her hand moved back to his shoulder and lightly squeezed it, sending spikes of electricity through his spine. Then, she was gone.
Eddie’s face remained just as red as before. His fellow Hellfire members tried to help him regain consciousness but Eddie remained silent. He was stunned. He had never felt so weak. She toyed with him and he didn’t even fight back. He had never felt so powerless. In most situations he had had with girls, he was the one who approached and the one who lead. But, she… she was different.
“Eddie, dude, you should probably go to the bathroom.” Jeff patted Eddie’s shoulder, finally getting his attention.
Eddie looked down to find his dick as stiff as a board in his pants. Jesus Christ, he needed to get his shit together. This girl was messing with his fucking head.
After a moment in the bathroom, Eddie was able to go about his day as normally as he could. He still stumbled whenever he thought of the softness of her hand or the smell of her perfume. But as long as he didn’t see her he was fine. Right?
After Hellfire, Eddie returned to the trailer he shared with his Uncle and plopped himself on his bed. God- was he exhausted. Didn’t know being teased by a girl would make him so tired. His eyes fluttered closed and he gave in.
“E-Eddie please,” Y/n wimpered, looking up at him with big doe eyes, her hands restrained behind her back.
“Please what?” Eddie persisted, his leg pushing in between her thighs, feeling the warmth of her.
“P-Please fuck me!” She huffed, grinding her hips against his thigh. She seemed so helpless now. Her dominance was subdued by him and she had become a mess of herself.
“How much do you want it?” Eddie whispered in her ear, her perfume smelled even stronger when he was this close to her neck.
“I-I want it so bad, Eddie! Please I’m begging you!” She wailed.
He loved seeing her like this. Fuck, it made him feel like he was gonna cum in his pants. He couldn’t make her wait any longer and neither could he.
He started to reach his hand under her shirt when-
He woke up. It was a dream. It was a fucking dream. And one thing he knew about dreams like these, they always end the same.
Eddie lifted his comforter to find his boxers covered with jizz as well as the sheets underneath him. Eddie’s face crumpled into a frown. He had to get her back for this.
-
A/N: Dont worry there will be a part two coming soon!!! Hope u enjoyed
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slavicviking · 8 months
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Long Jump, Huge Leap
wc: 5k | Pre-Season 3 steddie
[Ao3]
Whoever said Eddie Munson doesn’t like sports is wrong.
One can dislike a candy bar, a type of soda, a likewise mundane thing that comes down to preferences. No, no. What Eddie Munson feels towards sports cannot be condensed into such a simple term. His body itself outright refuses to take part in any sport activity – sweat immediately pooling at his pits and back and ass, legs acting disjointed, arms too long and too weak to do anything of significance, except for maybe making a fool of himself. With that particular element of his P.E. experience helps his mouth which, funnily enough, is the only part of Eddie that runs quicker than anyone, especially its owner, can catch up. Not that the rest of his group feels exceptionally impressed with the skill presented.
Hawkins High doesn’t need a furry mascot for laugh-inducing entertainment when it has Eddie Munson.
“Munson, you’re in Hagan’s team.”
“Oh, for fuck’s-“
“Do not fret, little ol’ Thomas, I sincerely vouch to not dare touch the balls you play with-“
And as the usual song and dance goes, the ball is thrust directly into his stomach.
Several bruises left on his body and ego later Eddie decides it’s simply not worth it, he skips P.E. entirely – avoids it as if it were the ninth circle of Hell. It may as well be, he thinks. Uncle Wayne seems persistent to convince Eddie to try again but after a long and, frankly tiring, conversation the subject is dropped.
Until now.
Eddie stretches out his legs in front of him, the uncomfortable plastic chair digging into his spine and reshaping his already barely-there ass into a flat tire. It’s psychological warfare, it must be, because how else can one explain furniture that defies its primary function so well. Principal Higgins knew well what she did when she chose them to be placed in front of her office. Her own personal little torture chamber.
“The Principal is ready to see you now, Mr. Munson,” the secretary, a pretty blonde in her twenties, tries to smile at him but all that comes out as a result is a grimace stretched thin over her face. It dims further when Eddie stands up making the most noise he possibly could have with the chair sliding across the parquet.
“Sorry,” he says because he is actually sorry. For all his bold persona and jumping on tables, he hates the idea of bothering someone who absolutely does not deserve it. The secretary is nice, he can say that with confidence he’s gained over sitting in that damned red plastic chair too many times to bother counting. He also knows he can be a lot when seated in it – constantly twitching and shifting, mind all too self-aware of the pre-attached uncoordinated body.
Principal Higgins doesn’t look pleased to see him but when does she ever? Eddie personally believes they see each other often enough to be on first-name basis, or at least have this unspoken camaraderie between each other. He thinks the name Margaret would fit her. Tiffany? The only obstacle of their everlasting friendship he can think of is the boundless hatred she has for him. And he has for her.
“Mr. Munson, I’m glad you could join us,” she says, voice syrupy-sweet, so much so it clogs Eddie’s ears for a moment. She has a maroon sweater on today and Eddie thinks it complements the stark bags under her eyes very well. A white blouse ironed to the bone peeks out from underneath it, sleeves rolled up. It’s then that he notices Coach Collins sitting in the chair usually reserved for the culprit’s legal guardian. This is not a usual part of their – Higgins’ and Eddie’s – routine and so it throws him out of the loop a little.
“Please sit,” Higgins points to the only empty seat in her office. Eddie is glad, for what’s it worth, that the chairs here are leagues better than whatever monstrosity his ass still feels the imprint of awaits in the waiting room.
“It wasn’t me,” Eddie says what he always does as he sits down. The Principal doesn’t look any more or less impressed with the line than usual, only letting out a silent sigh.
“Mr. Munson, your attendance ratio in Mr. Collins’ class is abhorrent.”
 Ah. Rough and straight to the point, just the way he likes it.
“I might have missed… a couple of days,” Eddie admits, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. His eyes roam the intricate designs on the carpet. Surprisingly enough they look exactly the same as the last time he’s seen them.
“More like a whole semester, son,” Coach finally decides to take part in this excruciating exchange.
“Normally that amount of missed classes is enough to fail the grade but Mr. Collins was considerate enough to offer you a deal,” Higgins pointedly stares Eddie down as if wanting to force him to slide down to his knees and thank the Coach for the opportunity. As if ‘Mr. Collins’ didn’t turn his head at all the harassment Eddie has faced in his class to begin with.
“Uh-huh.”
“Sport’s Day is coming up. We’d like you to join us this year, Mr. Munson,” she adds, implying she very much would not like him to be there at all but some predestined script requires it. “I believe some teamwork could do you good.”
Yes. Because being stuck with the school’s entire jock population on the football field is somehow better than ten or so of them in a P.E. class. He’s going to die, for sure .
The thing is, he knows they are giving him an excellent out. Sport’s Day is sort-of mandatory, though he’s only attended it once himself. It’s a big event for the school that, in theory, is a great opportunity to let a bit loose and get to know each other. Except, as it often is, a certain part of the Hawkins High population deems themselves as better than others and what should be all fun and games turns puckingly nerve-wracking if you dare to not be pristinely perfect and screw up. Eddie had one attempt in 1982 and hasn’t stick in a foot or arm onto school grounds that day ever since.
“Right,” he says in the end, voice a little strangled. They both clearly take it as him agreeing and, well, he doesn’t really have a choice, does he? Unless he wants to repeat Senior Year again.
He doesn’t.
He really, really doesn’t.
So one full day of excruciating pain it is.
-&-
It’s hot as fucking balls.
The event hasn’t started yet but Eddie can already feel the sweat pooling all over his body. Students stand in small groups all around the yard and it takes him a long while before he spots the Corroded Coffin.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Eddie Munson?”
“Yeah, yeah, yack it up,” he rolls his eyes at Jeff, eyes scanning the area for a semi-hidden smoking spot and finding none. It’s too risky, anyway. He lifts the hem of his shirt to fan himself. “Not like I had a choice.”
They all know about the quote unquote ‘olive branch’ handed out to him by the school but he can feel they’re surprised he decided to follow through with the spectacle anyway.
A long queue forms in the middle of the court, Coach Collins and Jenkins right at the top of it all along with Principle Higgins, each with a jar filled with differently colored strips of material in their hands. Even with no say in the matter, Eddie feels his hand sweating the closer he gets to the harbinger of his doom. Soon enough he will know who is going to make his life hell the next ten or so hours.
“Team yellow,” Collins tells him and gives him the appropriately colored ribbon. Eddie does a apathetic ‘woohoo’ with it before sliding off the side where his new team members reside. He ties the material loosely around his neck because he lives to disrupt the norm. Because fuck Collins.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to go there, dude,” Hawkins’ personal eye-candy, Steve Harrington, tells him upon arrival. Even in this horrid damp weather he keeps smiling for some unknown reason, no strand of hair out of place. He has his basketball uniform on – a simple gray shirt and, oh God, tiny shorts that expose those legs- Eddie snaps his head up so fast he’s surprised it hasn’t cracked and rolled off yet. Perhaps that would be the more merciful solution. A yellow ribbon is residing around Harrington’s sun-kissed bicep.
Great.
“Yeah, well, I’m not a great fan of rules,” he bites, hoping Harrington will just leave him be.
“I know. It’s your whole shtick.” So. That’s a no. Harrington shrugs.
“But sometimes rules are there for a reason,” he says and hooks his finger under the ribbon around Eddie’s neck to tug at it lightly. “To, like, not die.”
However eloquently phrased, Eddie begrudgingly admits – to himself, in his head, never out loud – that there might be a good point hidden somewhere underneath all that hair spray. He wonders if it were Hagan in Harrington’s place would there be a more hands-on approach to this warning. With Eddie being left strangled.
Quite possibly.
He’s not going to test that theory.
“Whatever his majesty wants,” Eddie says as he dutifully unties the yellow ribbon from his neck. And because he never knows when to shut up, he adds, “You don’t have to pretend to be nice, dude. I know me being in your team, like, disrupts your mojo, or whatever.”
Harrington is noticeably not smiling anymore. He doesn’t cross his arms though it looks like he really wants to. There’s a pinch between his eyebrows. It should not be attractive but, alas, Eddie is but a weak man.
“It’s supposed to be fun, man.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Eddie ends up mumbling, feeling out of energy all of a sudden. The queue of students doesn’t seem to be getting any shorter, not that it matters much because all his friends have been scattered throughout all the other teams. He moves to sit on the grass at the edge of their little Yellow group, legs spread out in front of him. The grass is dry under his palms as he leans back, and he wishes he could light an inconspicuous smoke. Even more so when a body slams into him.
“Jesus Christ, what the f-“
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” a girl yelps. “I was trying to tie my shoe but I have, like, no coordination so I kind of fell over you? I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry. Balancing on one leg is so much harder than it looks. Like, honestly, how do cheerleaders even do that thing where they-“
“Whoa, hey, it’s fine,” Eddie jumps in before the girl – Robin Buckley, turns out – faints from lack of air. A yellow ribbon hangs limply off her wrist. Maybe it makes him a bad person but there is a sense of relief knowing he will not be the only ‘uncoordinated’ one on the team. Harrington is going to have an aneurysm for sure.
Robin blinks down at him, lips pulling down in a frown. “Oh, it’s you.”
Okay? Mean.
“Yes?” Whatever imaginary comradery Eddie hoped for seems off the table all of a sudden. Well, that’s a bummer. “Why the long face? Not happy to see a fellow nerd on the team?”
“You stepped on my sandwich last week.”
Ah. Well. That would do it, he supposes. The lunch break speeches… they sometimes get a little intense. Eddie gets a little intense, is what the rest of the Hellfire Club would probably say. Eddie’s shoes have been known to slam face – sole? – first into the best of what the Hawkins High cafeteria had to offer; which is not saying much, to be completely honest.
“My humble apologies,” he tries a little bow and hopes it comes off sincere. Buckley looks less than convinced. Tough crowd, what can he say?
“Alrighty, I think that’s all of us,” Harrington’s overly cheery voice thunders somewhere from above him and Eddie, like a moth drawn to a flame, has no other option but to look up. With his hands power-posed strategically onto his sinfully slim waist and the sun positioned perfectly behind him, Steve Harrington seems to have taken it upon himself to alter Eddie’s brain chemistry, braincells leaving left and right, leaking right through his ears, never to be seen again.
“You’re drooling,” Robin’s monotone informs him from his right and he promptly slams his mouth shut, even though he knows the claim is wildly exaggerated. Buckley may be the best or the worst person he’s ever met – he desperately needs to befriend her.
“First up is the relay-race. We need four people. Anyone up?”
Harrington is met with painful silence and that does dim the cheery smile a little bit. Eddie wonders if that is where the famous King Steve comes out of the hiding, all scary sharp teeth and disregard of basic human decency. He himself stills, for once not wanting to draw any attention to himself, feeling like a student who doesn’t know the correct answer which, not to brag, if you asked Higgins or any other teacher in Hawkins High, is something Eddie excels in. Curiosity, though, is a fickle thing and he’s fallen victim to it more times than he can count, and so when the uncomfortable silence drowns on, Eddie can’t help but take a look around to meet the Team Yellow, so to speak.
Fred Benson peers at him from his thick glasses. A group of scared freshman cower together. There’s a couple of band kids other than Robin Buckley who forgone glaring at the back of Eddie’s head in order to chew on her lip nervously and stare at the ground. Not a jock in sight.
Steve Harrington couldn’t have landed a worse team if he tried. Surprisingly he doesn’t look like he’s about to piss himself over it. Huh.
“Alright, well. I volunteer myself then,” he raises his hand. “That leaves three. Hm? Come on, it’s gonna be fun!”
Eddie can’t help it. He snorts. It’s loud and ugly.
“Well, I guess we have another volunteer,” Harrington preens and Eddie has to see who is idiotic enough to- It’s him, isn’t it? Harrington pulled out the classic teacher move and Eddie fell right into the trap.
“You do not want that, Harrington,” he tells him, trying his best not to show how much the intense eye contact from the jock affects him. It does not. It affects him even less when Steve juts out his bottom lip and tilts his head to the side like a goddamn Golden Retriever.
“Why not?”
“You’re going to lose?”
“It’s not about winning, it’s about teamwork,” Harrington trudges on stubbornly, sounding eerily sincere even while basically quoting every fake-cheery pamphlet in existence. It doesn’t matter how much Eddie tries to convince him it’s a bad idea – a terrible, awful, horrible idea – he doesn’t budge an inch like the stubborn asshole that he is.
“I’ll go last,” he informs Eddie and the other two unfortunate ‘volunteers’ once they reach the track.
“Hey, Harrington,” cuts a familiar voice and there’s Hagan suddenly all up Harrington’s business. “Ready to lose?”
To his credit, all Steve does is raise one eyebrow. “Did Hargrove tell you to come here, or what?”
Eddie appreciates balls on a man, literally and metaphorically, so this cheery but assertive combo is doing things to him that he is not proud of. There is a reason he avoided Steve Harrington for most of high school, and it wasn’t only because of the King Steve jock persona. Eddie may not have a good taste in men but he does have eyes.
“Whatever, man,” Hagan finishes off their little pissing contest in the meantime, strutting right back to Billy, both arms adored by blue ribbons. Harrington’s nostrils flare with each breath before he closes his eyes for a second.  
Eddie isn’t known to make wise choices. One would argue bad decisions run in his blood, screwing things up his very own a generational pattern.
“Uh, you okay, man?”
Harrington’s eyes snap open. Eddie should have never opened his mouth. With Harrington’s intense eyes on him, he feels like Icarus, flying too close to the sun. Steve smiles. Eddie is going to crush and burn any minute now.
“Yeah, sorry,” he keeps his voice light but there’s underlying tension that hasn’t been there before. His eyes appear almost glazed over when he looks over to Billy Hargrove. Eddie’s gut-instinct wants to pin the strange interaction on some jock-code that he is simply not familiar with but that’s not all there is to it. Eddie has fallen victim to the rumor mill many a time during his prolonged high school career and so he tries not to lean into them too much, even when the juicy news of a fight between the former and new king of Hawkins High broke out. One look at Harrington now and he knows, deep down, the impressive shiner on Steve’s face last fall has truthfully been Hargrove’s doing.
Doesn’t matter, really, because Harrington, emanating a true father-at-vacation energy, claps his hands together with too much enthusiasm. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”
Getting the show on the road, so to speak, is Abby, a freshman, who does not at all look very confident. Eddie cannot, for a fact, tell if the time passes too fast or too slow as the whistle toots and Abby is on the go, then Nigel, and then-
Eddie leans forward, bends his knees. Suddenly there’s a weight in his hand. Someone is screaming for him to ‘ go, go, go’ !
And Eddie does what he does best. He runs.
By the halfway point, his lungs are on fire, his legs feel like jello. His hair flies out of his bun and he can barely see but, he muses, he might as well try and actually finish something for once. And it’s not because Steve Harrington happens to be waiting on the other side. But maybe that’s a bonus. Who can tell?
The second his hand touches Harrington’s and passes on the stick, his legs give out from underneath him and he falls on his ass with a deeply unsatisfying thunk .
“Nice job, Munson,” says a blurry hand with a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” he says, or tries to, though it comes out slurred. A big swing of water helps.
“You okay?” Robin leans over him before taking a whiff of L’eau d’Eddie and promptly taking an out.
“Aw, I knew you cared, Buckley.”
“I just don’t want you to hurl all over my shoes,” she simply says.
Somehow they are not last. Eddie doesn’t know whether he helped at all or is it simply the power of Steve Harrington’s godlike legs that did all the heavy-lifting, but they finish off in second place, right after Hagan.
Eddie would never admit it out loud, not under threats of death, but it was…kind of fun. Satisfying.
“Eddie, you were amazing!” Harrington runs up to him, sweat pooling over his forehead and neck and Eddie has to stop himself from offering to lick it off.
“Hu-?”
“You never mentioned you’re this fast!”
“Because I’m not? Have you hit your head on the way here, or-?”
Something weird happens with Harrington’s face for a split second but it’s so quick Eddie doesn’t have the time to properly analyze it before he’s smiling again.  
“Not this time, no,” he forces a chuckle. “But you had fun, right?”
Eddie sighs, flops down on the ground to make it extra dramatic. Eyes closed, he reaches out with his hand to make a tiny gap between his index finger and thumb. “Maybe a little.”
A small laugh rings above him, this time genuine, and he hates how he can feel a lazy grin tug at his lips.
Eddie misses at least one round while he lays on the grass. It’s a blissful fifteen-thirty-forty minutes and he revels in it with every whiff of a colder breeze but by minute forty-two the ground doesn’t seem nearly as comfortable as it used to right after the race. The sun assaults his eyes the moment he opens them and he swiftly sits up, trying to shake off loose twigs and dry grass that have gotten entangled with his hair.
Team Yellow has seen better days. While Eddie lounged in the grass they have become a mass of sweat and red heat-swollen cheeks. Whatever disciplines he’s missed, he is glad he has. They are not last on the leaderboard, though – by what miracle, he cannot figure out.
“Eddie!” Steve Harrington, of course, has been spared the same treatment as his team. Hair slightly whipped by the wind and rosy cheeks, he looks as though he just about stepped out of a salon. A tattered yellow-white-blue volleyball sits against his hip. “Just the guy I was looking for. You willing to give it a try?”
Eddie is not.
Not under any normal-adjacent circumstances anyway but Harrington is, consciously or not, giving him his best rendition of puppy eyes. That and Eddie can feel a heated gaze located on the back of his head coming coach’s way. No matter how tempting, he cannot afford to screw this up.
So, in the driest monotone he can muster, Eddie says, “Been waitin’ for that my whole life.”
“Cool,” is all Harrington says before his achingly warm fingers wrap themselves around Eddie’s wrist and tug him towards the court. Buckley is already standing by the net, sending Eddie a miniscule smile of encouragement when he settles on her left, Harrington just behind him.
“Was worried you were a goner by now,” Gareth calls from the other side of the net, a green ribbon tied to his wrist.
“Nah, you know me, Gare-bear,” he flexes his non-existent biceps. “I'm prime material for the next super athlete.”
Someone – Harrington – chokes and coughs behind him. Eddie refuses to look, contribute to the hot and sticky flush of embarrassment that settles over his organs like slime. He has a reputation to uphold, though, so when Gareth raises his eyebrow, silently asking if he is okay – in this team, with King Steve, here and now – Eddie simply rolls his eyes and conspicuously whispers ‘Little Miss Primadonna’, their little nickname for King Steve back in the day.
He doesn’t like how instead of feeling lighter he just feels sick afterwards.
A resounding whistle starts the first set.
Eddie has forgotten how violent and competitive volleyball can get. He jumps away every time the ball comes anywhere near him, Harrington’s sweaty body miraculously appearing right there and then to save the day. It’s maybe the first time today that he can see blips of annoyance on the jock’s face but then as soon as it appears it smooths out and Steve graces him with yet another smile.
“You don’t have to be afraid of the ball,” Harrington off-handedly tells him in-between sets.
“Yeah, well, you tend to start feeling a little bit wary about it after you’ve been hit in the face a few times,” Eddie can’t help but bite back. Harrington looks sad all of a sudden, as though his friends haven’t been the ones to attempt their best at making Eddie’s face concave. He can’t help but yelp when a hairy mass – Steve’s arm – settles over his back and shoulders.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Harrington teases but there’s a sincere note in his voice. “I won’t let any balls come near you.”
Harrington – blessed, innocent, Harrington – is thankfully too straight to realize the innuendo he accidentally made but Eddie is most definitely not, face red as he mumbles under his breath ‘I mean, some balls are fine.”
Thankfully he does not hear that either.
Steve keeps his promise with surprising accuracy; no volleyball flies anywhere near Eddie and Harrington is always close by. Which should not bring as much comfort to him as it does. Especially considering Eddie still is unable to figure out why – why is Harrington this nice? Why does he care about Eddie at all? Part of him worries it’s all an act, a grand performance by one King Steve, with a grand finale that promises pain and humiliation right at the crescendo.
Nothing happens.
Well, they lose. Spectacularly. One game, then another, then a third one.
Amid this disaster and despite them being the singularly least athletic team possible, Steve Harrington remains an encouraging and patient captain. Not once does he yell or complain when the majority of the team scrambles away from the ball instead of towards it. Surprising, when Harrington has spent years under the wing of Coach Daniels as the Hawkins High very own basketball team captain.
“You’re good at this,” Eddie thinks out loud, promptly pursing his lips because he did not mean to actually say it. It is in particularly bad self-preservation taste to give a jock more ammo.
“I promised,” is all Steve says with a wink. And for a second, a blink-and-you-miss-it, his eyes go up and down along Eddie’s body, and- But that’s impossible. Harrington is not- He wouldn’t have-
It’s a preposterous cherry on the wild-buck cake he’s been offered today. There must have been a ball hurled his way at one point or another, punching him into another dimension that is similar enough yet decidedly feels a little bit off at every step. He’s rooted in his spot like the idiot that he is. What finally breaks him from the self-induced coma is what caused it in the first place - his ears catch the melodic tune of a Harrington laugh and, just like that, from feet above the ground he falls back to Earth, popping like a balloon with a gun.
For all Buckley piss-poor attempts at appearing done with it all, she sure looks chummy with Steve Harrington all of a sudden, and he does with her as well. It was foolish, stupidly childish, to assume the jock’s attention was for Eddie and Eddie alone.
Harrington pulling out his patented charm with Buckley the same way he did a second ago with Eddie feels like a light stab in his chest. What twists it is them looking Eddie’s way, red cheeks and mirth in their eyes, and letting out a short but audible laugh.
“I’m telling you, dingus.”
 “God, shut up,” but Harrington laughs as he says it, even when he elbows Robin right in the boob.
Dead-set on keeping his eyes on the ground, Eddie tries to move past them. He doesn’t get far.
“Hey, Eddie, I’m trying to convince Robin to go for tug of war,” Harrington tells him for some fucking reason.
“No way, dingus.”
“She’s stronger than she looks,” he adds, poking Buckley in the bicep-less arm. “From carrying that tuba around.”
“Trumpet.”
I haul up the amp at every Corroded Coffin show, Eddie wants to say – would that impress you?
He’s pathetic. He’s fallen from the high pedestal he self-appointed himself at – above the bullshit popularity contest and suffocating do’s and don’ts of small-town’s high school lore – right at the feet of the walking and breathing representation of everything he resents about how the world works, and-
“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles.
A good smoke is exactly what Eddie needs right now. Fill his being with nothing but puffs of smoke. Students and teachers and even some parents roam around the school grounds but his trusty spot behind the gym is free of the intruders. Two cigarettes in, he refuses to feel sorry for himself any longer.
He’s not going to dwell on something that was a pipe dream to begin with. Not too long anyway. Whatever. He’s fine.
He is .
Steve seems wary of him when he gets back but he brushes it off as well as he can and gets in line behind Fred Benson instead. It’s long jump time.
“Robin’s pretty cool, right?” comes a voice behind him. Eddie yelps.
“Jesus Christ, warn a guy.”
Steve has the audacity to look a little sheepish, hand going to scratch at the back of his neck. “Sorry, man.”
Silence.
“Turns out we have some things in common,” he says, then. And stares. For a long time.
“Okay?”
What does he want Eddie to say? You have my blessing? Congrats?
Steve looks slightly discouraged from continuing his ventures but seems willing to trudge on, for whatever reason. “Maybe-“
“Munson, you’re up!”
Oh, thank God .
Eddie may not be the fastest or the strongest but he has years of avoiding bullies under his belt. That is to say, if he wants to avoid someone, he will find a way to become, well, not invisible, but unreachable at the least. It does not help that at this point he understands Harrington’s newfound obsession with him even less. Maybe for a second Eddie could have thought that – well, that doesn’t matter.  
By hour eight and with only one event left, Eddie feels pretty confident he’s going to survive the whole thing after all and not even be on the losing team somehow. That is until Coach Jenkins announces the farewell match.
“Dodgeball! Yellow against blue,” and whistles loud and clear, no room for complaints.
It all goes surprisingly well until it doesn’t. Until there’s a ball flying his way. Until he faceplants into next week.
Of course it’s Steve Harrington who insists on patching him up in the nurse’s office. “I’m the captain,” he says before anyone else can offer. Not that they were people scrambling to do so, really.
“I’m sorry,” Harrington adds when an icepack settles on the side of Eddie’s head once they arrive.
“What for? ‘Far as I can tell it wasn’t you who threw that,” Eddie narrows his eyes. “Right?”
“No, of course not, Eddie, I would never-“ Steve stops himself and Eddie wants so badly to point out that he ‘would ever’, in fact he ‘did ever’, but that would be a lie. King Steve never stooped as law as the likes of Tommy Hagan or other low-esteem high school bullies. King Steve was always above it all, too high and mighty to bother with mundane shit such as head shooting a nerd with a basketball in P.E. or offering a swirlie. Doesn’t make it right, doesn’t make him any less of an asshole for standing by and watching it happen.
But Harrington hasn’t been King Steve for a while now, has he?
It’s morally questionable. It’s confusing.
Eddie thinks he might be having a concussion.
“I promised,” Steve says instead, and Eddie is really even more convinced a visit to the ER is going to be necessary because- “That I wouldn’t let any ball come near you.”
Ah.
A strange oath to so stubbornly hang onto all things considered.
While Eddie struggles to find an appropriate response Steve decides to take it upon himself to start cleaning the scraped knee with a feather-light touch and precision that comes as a surprise. A minute stretches into five, into ten, as he works, clearing his throat at the end.
“I’ve been told that I’ve been,” he makes quotation marks in the air. “acting like a weirdo.”
“Ah. Well. Who am I to disagree with the King?” Eddie juts out his bottom lip and Steve snorts. Clamps a hand to his mouth, embarrassed, though a glint in his eyes betrays him.
“What’s so funny, Harrington?”
“Nothing. Just – I really do have a type,” Steve shrugs.
“Women that are probably too good for you?”
“Mmm, that, too, but also,” he grabs one of the loose strands that have escaped Eddie’s bun and twirls it between his fingers. Heat rushes to his ears fast and warm and he can barely make out what Steve says next. But he does and- “Cute pout. Curly hair. Beautiful brown eyes. Super smart.”
Eddie swallows. “Steve.”
“Not ‘Harrington’ anymore?”
“If this is a joke-“
“It’s not,” Steve’s hand quickly links and tugs at his. “I promise it’s not.”
“I’m a little lost, dude, not gonna lie.”
“The whole day, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You’re… pretty, so pretty. And Robin insisted that you like me, too,” Steve slows down, disentangles his hands from Eddie’s. “But – did I misread this? I- Don’t leave me hanging like that, man.”
Eddie can see the growing panic in Steve’s eyes, desperation in his voice. He can’t help it, his mind comes to a shattering halt.
“Wait, hold on, I- You’re being serious?” Steve nods. “Okay, shit. I-uh. Fuck.”
“This was a bad idea, wasn't it?” Steve fists his hand in his hair, making a mess of it and oh, Eddie cannot allow that, not unless he’s the one that- “I’m so sorry, Eddie-“
One hand on a grey shirt, one with rings getting tangled in-between strands of puffy hair, two pair of lips collide for just a split second. Only a quick pause follows before they are reunited again, and again, and-
“Does that mean,” Steve asks, breathless, between peppering kisses. “that you’ll go out with me?”
“Keep the kisses coming and you have yourself a deal.”
Steve leans away and smirks. Eddie can’t help the little embarrassing whine that leaves his lips. “We stopped. Why did we stop?”
“Told you it’s all about teamwork.”
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