Limits

Limits

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI OR IM CALLING THE COPS, p in v sex, unprotected sex, underage drinking, weed (obviously, it’s Eddie), slapping, choking, oral (m&f receiving), language

A/N: We finally reached 1,000 followers! I’m absolutely thrilled and couldn’t be happier. Thank you all from the absolute deepest part of my heart for all of the time that you all take into reading these and enjoying them and sticking beside me during that hiatus that I went on. I love writing for you all and this is kind of an early birthday gift for me (9/20) and for you all! As always, any comments/likes/REBLOGS are appreciated and my inbox is open for requests! And as promised, here’s the first part to a new series <3

Taglist: @annjelica @comfortcharactercraze @tlclick73 @geekyfifi @cinnnam0ngirl @emxxblog @bebe07011 @jesssssmaybankk

Friday March 28, 1986. 6:30 am.

The weather was cold and rainy, your bed calling your name as you brush your freshly washed hair in front of your vanity mirror. The distant sound of your parents arguing filled your ears and frankly, you were getting tired of it. They argued about the same things over and over and it was getting old. Fast.

“You almost ready? Mom and dad are getting on my last fucking nerve and they’re not leaving until they tell you goodbye.” Your older brother Steve whispers through your slightly ajar door.

“What are they fighting about this time?” You groan as he opens the door wider.

“How long they’re gonna be gone. Mom says 2 months, dad says 3.” He explains and you roll your eyes.

“It’s always fucking something with them two.” You spat. “I’m coming.”

You and Steve walk down the stairs and the arguing gets louder and louder. You and Steve stand there, waiting for them to acknowledge the both of you. Your dad’s face was blood red and your mom’s voice was starting to give out. It was like this constantly. Thank god you were 18 so you wouldn’t be dragged to the countless long business trips that they would always go on. Your mom didn’t trust him to go on them alone. There was no trust left in this house. The only person you trusted anymore was your big brother Steve.

You clear your throat and the arguing stops for a moment. Their heads turn to the both of you and your mom wraps you each in a hug, your dad giving you a kiss on your forehead and making sure that Steve knew that there wouldn’t be any parties allowed. They say they’re individual goodbyes before heading out of the door to leave for the airport.

They were never really present in your lives, the only things that they really cared about was your dad’s business and their relationship problems. Because of that, you and Steve had grown closer the past couple of years, especially once he got with Nancy and stopped hanging out with Tommy and Carol.

“God they have got to get a grip on themselves.” You gripe. “Doesn’t make it any better that dad’s a-”

“Grade A asshole?” He finishes your sentence with a chuckle. “I’m just glad that we’re nothing like them.”

“Well that’s what happens when you raise yourself.” You sigh. “You see the damage and you run away from it.”

The two of you watch outside of the window blinds to watch your parents drive off, arguing of course. You grab your lunch and backpack before heading outside, Steve following you behind with his car keys. You place your backpack in the back seat and get comfortable in the passenger seat. Steve turns the car on and backs out of the drive way before driving towards the school.

“So what time are you getting home?” You ask him.

“I get off at 2 but Nancy and I are picking up Mike from the airport. I have no clue how much time’s that gonna take.” He answers and your eyebrow raises.

“So.. how am I getting home?”

“I don’t know, walk. Also don’t forget Eddie’s staying over.” He says. “But no funny business. The last thing I need is my baby sister dating my best friend.”

“Stevie I’m not a baby. I turned 18 2 months ago.” You roll your eyes. “Besides, it’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah? Well I know how you feel about him. You’re off limits and he’s off limits.” He sighs.

“That was last year!” You exclaim.

“I can’t be too cautious, right?”

Last year was when Eddie first started coming around. You were attracted to him and one night you let it slip out that you found him attractive. Obviously Steve told Eddie to get back at you when you two were arguing. Since then, Eddie teased you about it any time he could since he was your brother’s best friend.

You and Eddie had became friends, but not close or anything. Just friends, nothing more and nothing less. You really only talked at school and talked at home, but you never hung out outside of school and you never spent time together.

Steve pulls up to the drop off section and lets you out of the car before Dustin knocks on his window. You toss your backpack over your shoulder as Steve rolls his eyes and hands Dustin $10.

“What was that about?” You ask Dustin with a chuckle.

“Oh, just a little bet.” He shrugs off. “Not giving the details.”

“Got it.” You nod.

You walk into the school and head straight into your first class. With the day you were already having, you should have expected a pop quiz. The last thing you needed was failing the pop quiz and having your parents find out.

Half way through the day the rain had gotten harder and colder. You had lunch and then study hall but you decided to skip the remainder of the day. While the rain was lighter than it was, you began walking East. You only lived about 3 miles from school so it shouldn’t take you too long, right? Wrong.

The rain for heavier and heavier the farther you walked. Your clothes were sopping wet, your backpack and everything in it was drenched, and you were still over 2.5 miles from home. A vehicle slows down behind you but follows you, throwing you off.

“School’s the other way, kid.” You hear a man shout through the deep thunder sounds.

You turn around and stop walking, making out Eddie’s face from behind your drenched bangs being in your eyes. He stops the van and you walk up to it, leaning on the open window.

“Need a ride home?” He asks.

“Please.” You frown and he jerks his head back as a way to tell you to hop in. “Sorry your seat’s wet now.”

“Eh you’re fine. Needs cleaned anyway.” He shrugs as he drives off. “Why you skipping?”

“I could ask you the same.” You point out.

“Well if you so desperately wanna know, I had originally planned on spending the day with Chrissy but it didn’t play out like that.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Now you spill it, little miss perfect student.”

“Just got bored. Robin’s working today, mom and dad aren’t home, so I’ve got plenty of free time.” You explain. “Plus I finished my midterms so I didn’t have anything going on for the rest of the day anyway.”

“What if Harrington found out you skipped?”

“What if he found out you helped me skip?” You toss back.

“Touché.” He agreed as he kept driving. “Home?”

“You got it.” You nod.

“Plan on spending the day with your boyfriend Billy?” He teases and you punch his arm.

“You’re full of questions today aren’t you?” You mention and he hummed.

“Well you didn’t say that he isn’t your boyfriend. You also didn’t say that you weren’t going to spend time with him.” He pointed out.

“I don’t have a boyfriend. He isn’t my type anyway.” You cringe and he took the opportunity that you handed him.

“Oh but I am, right?” He teased.

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes as he laughed.

“Lighten up kid.” He chuckled.

He always called you kid. He has since the day he first met you. He met you the first time when Steve was buying some weed from him when your parents weren’t home. Eddie didn’t know you were home so he was startled as he saw you standing there. Not only that, but he originally felt guilty, thinking that he blew Steve’s cover because he hadn’t realized that you smoked with your brother constantly. Since then, the nickname stuck and he’s been more comfortable having weed around you.

He pulled up to your house and put the van in park. You grab your backpack and toss it over your shoulder, inviting him in to give him a break from driving in the worst thunderstorm you’ve had in a while. He agreed and walked behind you as you make your way to your front porch. You unlock the door and walk in, Eddie trailing behind.

“He’s not home but help yourself to whatever.” You say before running up the stairs and into your room.

You make sure to close the door behind you completely before you step out of your soaked clothes. You dry your hair off with the towel you used earlier for your shower and you slip on a clean pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You open your bedroom door and make your way downstairs, Eddie sits on the couch looking through one of your dad’s magazines that he had laying around.

“So since my plans are cancelled and you’re not doing anything, you wanna go do something?” He asks you when you got back downstairs.

“Wouldn’t you think Steve might find it weird that we’d be hanging out together alone?” You ask.

“We already are, aren’t we?” He points out and he stumped you.

“Well yeah but if he came home early, don’t you think it’d raise some red flags?” You mention and he shrugs.

“Suit yourself. You drink?” He asks as he stands up.

“I mean- yeah. Did you forget?”

“You think little Stevie would be upset if I brought alcohol for all of us to share with your parents being out of town and shit?”

“Of course he wouldn’t be. That’s probably what he had planned anyway.” You chuckle and he grins.

“Noted.” He nods as he leaves through the front door without another word.

You shrug and take your backpack to the kitchen and take all of your books out, allowing them to air dry from the rain. You make yourself a cup of hot tea to sip on while you watch tv. The time flies by and it was already 3:30. You grew bored of the television show that you were watching so you decided to kill some time by smoking.

You groan when you realize that Steve stole your only lighter when he had over 10 that he never used. You make your way into his bedroom and retrieve your lighter before going into your room and lighting a blunt whilst laying in your bed. You bring it up to your lips a pull your breath, the smoke filling your lungs before being released from your exhale. You do this for a while until you looked down, realizing that you had smoked the entire blunt and half of another one.

You put it out so you had some saved for later since you were nearly out and Steve made it clear that you couldn’t buy from Eddie because he didn’t want you to mooch off of him. Through your blaring music and haze, you hear a faint knock at the front door.

8:22 pm. The rain wasn’t ending any time soon and neither was the thunder or lightning.

The knocking went harder until the doorbell kept going off over and over again, getting on your last nerve. You march down the stairs and to the front door, swinging it open. Eddie stood there with soaked hair and brown paper bags filled with unconsumed alcohol bottles.

“He’s not home yet.” You yawn but move out of his way regardless.

“Well I’m not going back out and coming back again. He’ll just have to get over it.” Eddie chuckles as he sits the bottles on the kitchen counter and you close the door behind him. “That’s unless you’re uncomfortable with me being here with nobody else.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrug after you lock the door.

“Seems like you’ve already began partying.” He pointed out with a lighthearted smile.

“Just got bored. It’s almost completely gone though. Accidentally smoked too much of it.”

“How come you never buy from me?” He asks you as he lays his jacket over a chair to dry and leaves his shoes where yours were. “Don’t like me or somethin’?”

“Steve said you were off limits. Something about mooching off of you? I don’t know, all I know is that Billy’s weed just doesn’t hit the same anymore.” You explained and he lets out a small ah.

“What’s with him and limits anyway?” He asks. “And his weed probably has some stupid shit in it since you don’t let him fuck you anymore.”

One thing to note about Eddie is that the man didn’t have a filter. He said what he meant, even the worst of things.

“Wh- How’d you even know about that?” You ask and he shakes his head amusingly.

“I can read people too easily. You were always so uptight but once you started buying from Billy, you changed. Plus you have some weird limping going on after him. You should probably get that checked out.” He explained and your face cringes. “But if you need a new guy, I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Fuckin’ deal.” You exclaim and shake his head with a laugh. “Does that make us closer friends?”

“I still don’t know much of a single fucking thing about you, kid.” He laughs. “You don’t know much about me either.”

“Well since he isn’t home, I guess we’ve got time to know each other a little more.” You shrug. “Drink and tell our deepest darkest secrets?”

“Ew even your idea of getting to know each other sounds like a kid.” He laughed and you chuckle. “We’ll think of something.”

That’s where you found yourself here in your room with him sitting in your floor, sipping on a concoction of alcohol that he made. The two of you created a deck of cards that had a question on it and you either had to answer the question truthfully and the other person drank or you didn’t have to answer but you had to drink instead. There weren’t any off limits questions, it’s simply just the two of you getting to know each other better.

“Alright let’s see..” He mumbles as he flips over the card to ask you. “Ah, good one. What’s the most illegal thing you’ve done?”

“Hmm… besides weed and underage drinking?” You asked and he nodded. “Probably skinny dipping at Lover’s Lake.”

“So we’re not too too different so far.” He laughs and you chuckle before grabbing a card from the deck.

“Alright. If you could change one thing about you, what would it be?”

“That’s a hard one. I’m pretty content with who I am.” He answers truthfully. “So I guess I gotta drink.”

He takes your card and shuffles if into the deck before taking a big swig of his drink. He takes the card on top of his deck and grinned devilishly. Your stomach drops at the unknown question hidden behind the card.

“Who’s your current crush?” He asks.

“That card does not say that!” You protest with a laugh.

“Oh but it does.” He says as he flips it over and shows you. His messy handwriting revealed the question.

“I don’t have one.” You shrug.

“Oh bullshit. Everyone has a crush.” He argued.

“Alright well who’s yours?” You confront him and he shook his head.

“Not my question.” He pokes. “So either answer or drink.”

With that, you drank. You finished the drink and shook your cup showing him that you were out. He grabbed it and filled it with more alcohol and refilled his as well.

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?” You read aloud with a laugh and he laughed with you.

“15. Sophomore year.”

You nodded and took a sip out of your cup.

“You?” He asks.

“Not my question, remember?” You remind him with a chuckle and he rolled his eyes playfully.

You both continue asking and answering each other questions until you’ve answered each individual question. You wrote new questions and they were more personal than the previous deck. So far you had learned that Eddie was deathly afraid of failure, his favorite color was red, he loved dogs, and he’s been in trouble with Hopper more times than he could even count on his hands and feet.

“When was the last time you kissed anyone?” You read and he had to think.

“I don’t know, maybe 2 months ago? 3? 4? I can’t keep up.” He answered in thought. “Which of us would have to drink?”

“Hmmm.. let’s call it even and both of us drink.” You suggest and he obliged.

“Last time you slept with someone?” He asked, perking up.

“5 months ago.” You answer immediately. “Dry spell.”

“I could easily say the same.” He shrugged.

Before you could read the next card, the thunder booms and the power shuts off. The two of you let out a collective gasp at the sudden pitch black and eerie room. You get out of your bed, tripping over Eddie’s leg and face planting before you could even find a flashlight. He apologizes and helped you up. You looked up and down the entire house but you didn’t have a single flashlight nor a candle.

You feel your way up the stairs down the hall, bumping into a few things before finally making your way into your room. Eddie made himself comfortable as he relaxed back on your bed, smoking a blunt.

“Are you smoking my last blunt?” You ask him with your arms crossed, not like he could even see you.

“Yeah. You weren’t kidding, that’s some shitty weed. Here, sit beside me and I’ll show you the best weed in town.” He said as he pats the bed.

You sit on your knees and face towards him, your silhouette revealed from the lightning flashes.

“God you even sit proper.” He complained and you slap his thigh. “Here, try it.”

He hands you one of the blunts he had rolled earlier in the day. You take it and light it, taking a deep inhale before exhaling slowly.

“Oh shit.” You blurt out.

“Good, right?” He laughs as he takes it from you.

“You’re officially my dealer.” You giggle and he snickers.

The two of you pass it back and forth, your high overcoming your tipsiness from the alcohol. It didn’t take you near as many but from his weed to get you high than it did with Billy’s.

“Oh! We may have some candles or flashlights in the garage!” You exclaim suddenly, handing him the blunt. “Can you come with me in case they’re too high and I can’t reach?”

“You’re needy.” He joked before he follows you into the garage.

It was near impossible to see anything anything in the garage, especially anything on the shelves. You didn’t want to move anything too much in fear of moving something of your dads, or worse, break something. With your luck you didn’t have any flashlights or any candles. You sigh in frustration.

“We can go to my place and grab some candles, flashlights, more weed, anything we need that you don’t have.” He suggests.

“But you’re high and I’m crossfaded.” You point out.

“We’ll be fine, I promise.” He swears. “Or you can just stay here.”

“But it’s storming!” You whine in protest. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Would you rather come with or stay here?” He asks.

“Fine. But you’re driving slow.” You say and he nods.

“God, you’re whiny when you’re high.” He chuckles and you punch him in the arm.

The two of you go back into the main part of the house. You both put your shoes on and he throws on his jacket before grabbing his keys before the both of you walk out to the van. You make sure to buckle your seatbelt and made sure his was buckled too. He drives off and makes his way into town.

“I think we’ve spent more time together today than Steve and I do normally.” He mentioned with a light chuckle.

“I still don’t think he’d be too happy knowing that we’re together alone.” You sigh.

“Well I’m the one dragging you everywhere. So if he says some shit, he can take it up with me.”

“Aw you’d stand up for me? You’re too sweet, Munson.” You tease as you poke your tongue out at him.

“This is my castle.” He exaggerates as the two of you walk inside. “Sorry it’s a mess, maid took the day off. And frankly, I wasn’t expecting any girls.”

“No need to impress me.” You smile.

Most of the trailer park was without power, whereas Eddie’s trailer was one of the only few that still had power. You didn’t know how long the power would be on, it was already 11:26. Eddie searched high and low and tossed a couple of flashlights, a few baggies of weed, and a change of clothes into a backpack. As soon as the two of you get back into the van, his power shuts off. You both laugh since you got out at the perfect time and you make your way back home.

“You think he’s home?” You ask as you all ride down the road.

“It’s Steve, it’s a surprise that he’ll be home before 1.” He laughed and you chuckled as your agreed.

He pulls back into your driveway and Steve had yet to be home. The two of you walk up to the front door and much to your dismay, the front door was locked. You actually locked the both of you out and you facepalmed. You walk around the house and whistle at Eddie to grab his attention.

“Push me up?” You ask him.

“Your window unlocked?” He asked.

“Eddie, that’s the only way I can get around with my parents. Obviously it’s unlocked.”

He handed you the backpack and you place it on your shoulders before he hoists you up so you can push open your window. The rain was making the window slick and it was hard to get your grip on it at first but you succeeded. Your ass was in Eddie’s face unwillingly and his hand slipped from your leg, accidentally grazing your ass. Because of that, it was awkward for a few minutes as you both stood in your room. But you quickly brushed it off as the two of you sit across each other on your bed, the flashlight sitting on your dressed aimed towards to both of you so you could actually see.

“I mean we fucked around a little bit just for fun. There weren’t any feelings, no relationship. Nothing.” You shrugged.

“That’s how it was with me and Chrissy at first. But then, I don’t know, I felt something there. And then we got together. But then 2 months ago she leaves me for Carver out of all people.” He huffed, flicking his lighter. “But that’s just how it goes sometimes. Don’t let that scare you away from finding someone.”

Somehow the topic of conversation was your failed relationships and the situationship that you and Billy had. Eddie hadn’t been in many relationships, the only serious being with Chrissy, and she even cheated on him with that. A lot of your relationships were rocky, mainly because you didn’t have the best taste in men. You and Eddie spent half of the night knowing each other more and more but you were both slowly lowering your walls with one another.

One major thing that you both had in common was your difficulty to trust others. He’d been through the wringer with his parents and you had too, only he ended up with Wayne when it got too bad and you were still with your parents.

“Besides, you’re only 17. Who knows, maybe you know that person but the universe is putting it hold.” He shrugged.

“I’m 18.” You correct him.

“What? No way. Since when?” He asked.

“January 20th.” You laugh. “How can you not remember? I was taking care of you at my own birthday party!”

“Ohhhh, that’s what Steve meant when he said the girl were off limits.” He laughed and your eyebrow raises.

“The girl was off limits?”

“Oh! Yeah it was nothing.” He waved off.

“No, tell me!” You urged and he shook his head.

Your birthday party was January 25th. Originally it was supposed to just be your friends and some of Steve’s but somehow it got around town that Steve was holding a party so there were tons of people. Although you were pretty tipsy, you still had your eye out for your friends in case they needed some help. Eddie had drank more than you ever had that night and he ended up not feeling the best so you helped him to the bathroom to empty his stomach. You even changed him into one of your brother’s shirts and made sure had had plenty of water before falling asleep in Steve’s bed.

“It was seriously nothing.” He refused.

“Edward James Munson.” You warn, using his full name.

“How do you even know my middle name?” He questioned.

“I have my ways.” You shrugged it off. “Now spill it!”

“My god, fine! But don’t let it change your opinion on me, alright?” He said and you crossed your heart to swear. “I told Steve that I wanted the number from the girl that stepped away from the party because she took care of me.”

“Aw you had a little crush on me!” You joke and poke his chest.

It took you by surprise. He was still with Chrissy at that time but he said that their relationship had gone to shit way before that. Now that you knew about that, you could finally make fun of Eddie like he did with you.

“You had a crush on me first.” He laughed as he raised his hands in self defense. “Besides, I was drunk off of my ass. You were sober.”

“Well yours was very recent, mine was a year ago.” You pointed out.

“If you asked me, I think you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find me attractive in the slightest.” He shrugged, lighting another blunt. “Maybe even still have a little crush on me.”

He was almost closing in on you, but you couldn’t let it be known. Sure, every little sister thought that her older brother’s friends were cute, but it usually stopped at age 12. Your crush on him developed more and more each time that you’d see him in the school hallway or when he’d come over and spend time with Steve.

“Why? Cause you like me?” You prod him and he snickered. “You didn’t say you didn’t still have a crush on me.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” He grinned.

“You are a man of mystery, Eddie Munson.” You laugh.

“You didn’t deny it either.” He points out.

“I guess we’ll never know, right?” You mock and he gets off of the bed once he heard the front door open.

“You’re a woman of glass, Y/N Harrington.” He whispers before exiting out of your bedroom door.

You hear Nancy and Steve’s voice as they walk through the front door, Eddie’s voice joining the mix shortly after. You grab the flashlight before making your way down the stairs and into the living room. Steve had Nancy had stopped somewhere and had a couple of drinks, Nancy was a lightweight so she was a giggling mess.

“When’d you get here?” Steve asks Eddie.

“Like 15 minutes ago.” Eddie lied.

“Power out?” Steve adds.

“No I just wanted to sit here in the dark.” You scoff. “Of course the power’s out.”

“Oh fantastic. Well babe, you wanna go to bed? Get some sleep for tomorrow?” He asks Nancy as he holds her up.

“Wanna cuddle.” She smiles up at him. “Are they gonna cuddle to?”

“Nooo! God no, they’re off limits.” He sneered. “Sorry to cut the night short guys. Eddie, make yourself comfortable. But don’t go in my mom or dad’s room. Smoke weed, drink, I don’t care. I’m exhausted. Just don’t break anything and don’t be weird.”

“Night you guys.” Eddie waves.

“Night Stevie!” You shout as they make their way upstairs.

“Night Stevie.” Eddie mocks you and you roll your eyes.

You both say your separate goodnights before you walk back upstairs and make yourself comfortable in bed. You tossed and turned at the sounds of the thunder booming and your mouth had gone dry while your high slowly came down.

3:27 am.

You couldn’t sleep. You tiptoe down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone, and go into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water before turning around and seeing Eddie stand there. The sudden sight of him scaring you, causing you to drop your cup and spill the water.

“Jesus you really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that Eddie.” You gasp, grabbing a paper towel and cleaning your mess.

“Sorry, wasn’t my intention.” He snickered. “Can’t sleep?”

“Not at all.” You complained.

“Yeah me neither. You’d think that the couch would be comfortable with the amount of money your parents have.” He mentioned and you nodded. “You have an extra blanket or something I could use?”

“Yeah, I’ll grab one from my room after my pour myself more water.”

You pick up your cup and throw away the paper to before refilling the cup and making your way upstairs. Halfway up the steps, the electricity comes back on. You turn off the flashlight before urging him into your room in case Steve woke up. You close the door behind you quietly, the soft orange glow from your lamp lighting up the room.

You rummage through the numerous blankets that you stuffed in your closet before pulling one out and handing it to him.

“Wanna smoke a little bit to help you relax? I know your high’s gotta be wearing off at this point.” He asks.

“I’ll do anything for sleep.” You agree.

The two of you finish half of the blunt that you started earlier, your body immediately relaxing and your eyes getting heavier as you drift off into another mental state.

“I guess I’m gonna go back downstairs, let you get some shut eye.” He says as he stands up and stretches.

You stand after him and open the door, leaning on it as he walks out. He stops and turns around, leaning on your doorframe. Your face mere inches apart.

“Maybe we’ll get to know each other more tomorrow.” He whispers.

“We just might.” You whisper back. “Are we better friends now?”

“I think we’re past that point sweetheart.” He grinned.

The newer nickname caused heat to rise to your face and butterflies to flutter in your stomach. There was no possible way that he could actually read you that easy, right?

“That easy to make you blush, huh?” He teased.

“I’m not blushing.” You protest quietly.

“Like I said, you’re a woman of glass.” He shrugged before walking down the stairs without another word.

You close your door and turn off your lamp before crawling back into bed. The weed gave you the relaxation you needed, helping you fall asleep.

“Wake up.” You hear Steve say as he shakes you. “Y/N, get up!”

“God Steve, what!?” You groan tiredly.

“It’s 9:00. I got called into work. I’m dropping Nancy off and I’ll be gone for a bit. You gonna be alright with Eddie while I’m gone?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You hum as you stretch. “Pulling a double?”

“Brandt called in of course. But hey, more money so we can get the hell out of here, right?”

“That’s one way to look at it.” You yawn as you sit up.

“What are all of these cards on the floor?” He asks.

“Don’t touch them! It’s homework!” You shout urgently and he takes a step back.

“Alright well get some sleep. Pretty sure Eddie’s still sleeping too.” He says as he closes your door.

You lie back down and sleep for a couple of more hours before being woken back up by the sounds of chirping birds. The clock read 11:05. You never slept that late but you were up all night tossing and turning. You push the blankets off of you and waltz downstairs, Eddie was still sleeping on the couch. His hair covered his face and his arm was raised against the side of his face. You spot the tattoos that were displayed on his chest as he threw off his shirt in the middle of the night since he was overly hot.

You quietly brew a pot of coffee and examine your nearly dry school work on the kitchen table. You hear Eddie groan from the living room before he sat up. His head turns to you and his eyes are squinted, the sunlight causing his sensitive eyes to hurt.

“Coffee?” You chirp.

“Sure.” He mumbled as he stretches. “Steve around?”

“No he had to leave for work and he dropped Nancy back off at home.” You explain before bringing the cup of coffee over to him.

Both you sip on your coffee in silence as you wake up a little more. Once you were both done, you put the cups in the sink.

“Any plans today?” You ask him.

“I was planning on going over to Gareth’s and go swimming over at Lover’s Lake but he canceled last night. You?” He mentioned.

“Not a damn thing.” You laugh and he chuckles.

“Well, I guess that just leaves the two of us then.” He pointed out obviously. “What do you feel like doing?”

You shrug.

“Just wanna drive around or something?” He suggests.

“You’re playing with fire, you know that right?” You smile and he shrugged.

“What’s so wrong about two friends hanging out?” He asked truthfully.

“Just don’t want him getting upset.” You explained.

“Why? Because we’re ‘off limits’?” He questioned. “Fuck the limits.”

“But-“

“We’re adults, aren’t we? We can make our own decisions, right?” He indicated, you acknowledge him. “We can set our own limits. I love your brother, don’t get me wrong, but he’s got a stick up his ass when it comes to certain things.”

“You’re right. Let’s just set our own limits. I’m tired of following everyone else’s rules.” You exclaim and he grins.

“Whatever happens, happens.” He quotes with a smile.

You both get dressed and leave the house to drive around while coming up with things you all can do together. You grab a bite to eat before arriving in the trailer park. You both walk into his house and sit around. He showed you his guitar collection and told you the names of each one, his collection of rocks, and his record collection.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to run to the bathroom and grab something that I think you’ll appreciate.” He announces and you give him a thumbs up.

You pull over the photo album that laid beneath the chair beside his bed and you flip through the pages. Eddie had always looked like a wild child, even since birth. You chuckle to yourself as you see him holding up the middle finger while dressed for Halloween as a toddler.

“I see you’ve found the hidden treasure.” He snickers as he walks over to you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t wanna go through your things. I was just curious.” You apologize and he shook his head.

“That’s one thing I’m going to teach you, stop apologizing.” He laughed and you give him a soft smile.

“Sorry.” You respond immediately and he shoots you a look.

“If you’re gonna be friends with me, you’ve gotta stop apologizing. Own that shit. Just be authentic.”

He showed you the photo album, explaining each picture the best he could but skipping the ones of his dad. His smile was big when he told stories about him and Wayne when he was younger, even before Wayne took him in. You enjoyed seeing this side of Eddie. This side of Eddie was inviting and vulnerable, something you’ve never really seen before.

He handed you a picture of the time you subbed for Mike during hellfire a while back, something you had totally forgotten about. That’s the first official time that you and him had met, but he didn’t know Steve like he did now and he definitely didn’t know you. He wasn’t inviting when you subbed and made it very known that you were only temporary.

“So what now?” You ask him as you both sit in a vacant parking lot.

“Wanna go swimming?” He suggests.

“It’s getting cold out and the sun’s setting.” You mention.

“So? That makes it even better!” He cried out with excitement. “C’mon, don’t make me regret spending the day with you if you’re gonna be boring.”

You sit and think for a minute. He would be the person to push you out of your comfort zone and stop living for everyone else.

“I don’t have a bathing suit.” You say.

“I’ll let you wear my shirt.” He offered.

“What about bottoms?”

“I’m just swimming in my boxers, your underwear will be fine.” He shrugs. “Plus you’ll have my shirt, it’ll cover you.”

“Alright, let’s go.” You smile, his face matching your grin as he drives off.

Eddie’s music blares in your ears as you drive down to the lake. He pulls into a gravel driveway before turning off the van. The sun was barely peeking over the trees and the air had gotten cooler. He stands outside of the van and rips his shirt off, throwing it to you.

“Where am I supposed to get changed?” You ask him and he shrugged.

“Anywhere. Rick’s not home so he won’t mind if you wanna go in there.” He said but you shook your head no. “Uhh.. you can change in the van?”

“Alright well turn your head.” You shoo him and he turns around, his attention directly on the lake.

His muscular back caught your attention and he could feel his eyes on you so he snickered. You quickly threw your shirt off and covered yourself up with his.

“Um.. what about my jeans?” You ask and he turns around and faces you, leaning against the car.

“You can take them off down there if you want.” He smiled politely and you hop out of the van.

The two of you begin walking down the steep heel, you slid on the mud and Eddie immediately grabs your arm to keep you from falling completely. You laugh at the situation, which nearly knocks the both of you down. Eventually you get to the dock and sit on the edge, placing your feet in the freezing cold water and immediately pulling them back out in response.

“Cold?” He laughs at your reaction as he slides out of his jeans.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see him standing there in his boxers. You tried not to stare so you quickly turn your attention on the water.

“Freezing.” You laugh lightly, your voice shaking from the cold and your adrenaline.

“You wanna get in?” He asks and you nod after a slight hesitation.

You stand up and unbutton your jeans before slowly taking off them off, pulling his shirt down to cover your ass. He eases himself into the water and shouts at the coldness, you laugh at his sudden reaction while you sit back down, dangling your feet in the water to get used to it.

“You coming in or just sitting like a bump on a log?” He asks, bobbing up and down from the waves.

“Give me some time, it’s cold!”

He didn’t respond with words, instead he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you into the water, not listening to your protests. You grab onto his torso to help you get back up to the surface, gasping once you reach air. Eddie grins, his hold still on you as you get the water out of your eyes.

“Oh my god I’m freezing!” You squeal, he laughs.

“You’ll warm up.” He snickered, swimming away from you.

You stayed close to the dock at first but eventually make your way closer to where he was. He ended up chasing you through the water, you splash him trying to get away from him but he grabs you and pulls you into him. He wraps your legs around him and gives you a smile.

“Hold your breath.” He says and you do just that.

The two of you sink into water, hitting the bottom of the bottom of the lake. You both sit there for about 30 seconds before you tap him and he brings you back up to the surface. He shakes his head and smoothes his hair back, taking the one hand that wasn’t on your back and moves the hair out of your face and eyes.

“Having fun yet?” You ask him with a grin and he nodded.

“Y’know, you’re pretty this way.” He mentions casually, the butterflies in your stomach flying around uncontrollably.

You didn’t respond, frankly because you didn’t know how. His eyes were soft and his demeanor was kind. He was just as surprised as you that he said that. It just kind of slipped out, but he meant it.

He held you close to him but his grip released once he saw a car pull into the gravel driveway. He nodded his head over in that direction and began swimming back to the dock. You swim behind him before he hoisted you up, you stand on the dock and wait for him to get up with you.

“Your friend?” You point out.

“Friend, mentor, supplier.” He nodded. “Plus we probably need some towels, don’t we?”

“Why didn’t we think of that.” You whine.

“C’mon, let’s go get dried off.” He said, grabbing your hand and pulling you up the hill.

“Hey motherfucker.” Eddie chuckles as he sees his friend. “This is Rick.”

You pull down Eddie’s shirt to cover you but the water causes the shirt to cling to your body. You and Rick make eye contact, his eyes wondering up and down your body and he looked at Eddie impressed.

“Girlfriend?” He asked and Eddie shook his head.

“Steve’s sister. So basically my sister.” He shrugged, your heart dropped. “She’s off limits, keep your eyes and hands to yourself.”

“Will do.” Rick winked. “Come on in.”

You grab your shirt from the van and wring out the bottom of your shirt before you follow them inside. The house was dim and things were scattered everywhere. Eddie shows you the bathroom and hands you a towel, you close the door once he leaves.

His comment threw you in for a loop. He just called you pretty and then the previous night he told you that he had a crush on you a couple of months back, but now he’s saying you’re practically his sister. Maybe he didn’t actually like you but just called you pretty. But just like you said, he was a man of mystery.

You dry yourself off completely but had to take off your underwear and your bra, making you wear your shirt and jeans with nothing underneath. You walk out into the hallway and see him buying stuff off of Rick but smiling at you once he saw you come back in. He changed into his jeans and he took his shirt from you, tossing it over his shoulder and wrapping up the conversation he was having with Rick.

“So what now?” He asks once you had gotten into the van and you shrug, staring outside of the window as he drives down the road. “Do you wanna come back over?”

“Sure.” You mumble.

“You alright?” He asks and you hum a yes.

He didn’t ask anything else, he just kept driving until he reached the trailer park. He pulls up to his trailer and turns off the ignition, unlocking the front door as you both walk into the trailer. He turns on the lights in the living room and kitchen so you could see and you pour yourself a glass of water while he changes into comfier clothes.

You sit on the couch, your feet were propped on the coffee table as you flips through one of the thousands of magazines that Eddie had put away under the coffee table. He comes back out and sits on the opposite side of the couch. You didn’t greet him like you usually did which confused him even more.

“You wanna smoke or something?” He asks, trying to get rid of the awkward tension.

“Sure.” You shrug and put down the magazine.

You follow him down the hall and into his room, he pats a part on the bed beside him and you sit, avoiding his gaze.

“Alright, bowl or blunt?” He asks, showing you the options.

“Bowl’s fine.” You answer back, a little snippier than intended.

He shrugged and packs the bowl before handing it to you. You take the bowl and the lighter, you place the bowl to your lips and light it. You pull your breath in and the smoke fills your lungs, you exhale before handing it over to Eddie.

The phone rang and he held up a finger telling you to hold your thought as he hands you the bowl. You hear his voice through the hallway, the phone call being cut short as he walked back into the bedroom.

“We’ve gotta get this situation under control. Your brother called and asked if I knew where you were at.” He mentions from the doorway.

“Shit, he probably knows I’m here then.” You huff, running your hands through your hair.

“Well I told him that you were staying over at Jennifer’s and I haven’t seen you since I left. So take that information how you will.” He mentions as he jumps back onto the bed.

He didn’t tell Steve where you were, he didn’t even tell him that you had spent the day with him.

“Did you have a fun day?” He asks you, just wanting you to say something more than a one worded sentence.

“Wasn’t too bad. Did you have fun spending it with your little sister?” You ask him, finally making eye contact with him.

His eyebrow furrows but it finally clicked.

“Is that what this is about?” He asks amused. “Are you seriously upset that I told Rick that you were like my little sister?”

You shrugged in response as you exhaled the smoke into the air.

“Wow, you must really like me, huh.” He teased.

“I never said that.” You shake your head with annoyance.

“Like I said Harrington, you’re a woman of glass. Why else would you be upset?”

“You’re the one who called me pretty.” You pointed out and he snickers amused before putting the bowl to the side once you two were at a good high level.

You bask in your high, your body relaxing against his sheets as he lights up a cigarette. His stereo played music at a low volume, his lamp being the only thing to light up the room.

“What time is it?” You ask him and he checked his watch.

“Mmm.. 10:35.” He answered. “Why, you want me to take you home?”

You answer with a shrug. The day flew by spending time with Eddie. You couldn’t remember the last time you had that much fun, or the last time you’ve been that flabbergasted. Did you want to like Eddie? Not exactly. But did it happened out of your control? Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Or would you rather stay the night?” He suggested, catching your attention. “You can wear my clothes if you want, I don’t mind.”

“You sure?” You verified and he nodded. “Cool.”

“Just go through my closet and drawers to get whatever you want.” He permitted. “You can have the bed or the couch. Or the floor. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

You stand up and go through his clothes, holding up a Metallica shirt with a look of question. He nodded with permission and you tuck it under your arm.

“What about bottoms?” You ask and he gets up and looks in his drawers.

“Thought I had some shorts laying around.” He mumbled to himself. “You can use my boxers as shorts if you want.”

He handed you a pair of black boxers and you take them. You make your way to his bathroom before jumping in the shower and rinsing off the lake water from your hair and skin. Your hair smelled like him and secretly you wanted to smell like him. Whether it be his cigarettes, his cologne, his shampoo, it didn’t matter. You were obsessed with his scent.

“Less crabby now?” He asks you when you walk back into the room, his legs were crossed as he lays on the bed.

“More tired.” You smile before sitting at the edge of his bed.

“You look good in my clothes.” He smiles.

“You’re so confusing.” You sigh quietly before laying on your belly, your head facing him.

“How am I confusing?” He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. “Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

Your feet kick in the air and you hold your head in your heads, staring at him blankly. He matched your energy and stared at you blankly, determined to get whatever it was off of your mind.

“What made you upset with my comment?” He asked bluntly.

“You called me pretty and then told him that I was like your little sister. It’s just confusing, I don’t understand you.” You explained truthfully.

“Let me ask you something.” He says, physically turning your head to face him instead of the headboard.

“Hm?” You hum.

“If I saw you just solely as a friend or a little sister, would I do this?” He asks.

Eddie’s face inches closer and closer to you, it was almost painfully slow until his lips finally landed on yours.

Your heart stops, your breathing stops, you were jelly in his hands. It felt like it lasted a lifetime, though it only lasted a second before he pulled away with a smile.

“You still upset?” He asks and you shake your head no while blushing.

“So you do like me.” You giggle and he grinned.

“And I know you like me.” Eddie snickers. “So, what are our limits?”

You sit there and think for a moment.

“Do we have any?” You ask him.

“We don’t have to.” He whispered. “Just see where things go.”

“Can we still keep it between us? Don’t want Steve to get upset.” You frown and he pokes your nose.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He smirked and you nod.

“So.. what does that make us?” You mention and he say there and thought for a moment. “Still just friends?”

“Start off as maybe friends who like to make out at times?” He suggested.

“I like the way you think, Munson.” You agreed.

That was all he needed to place his lips back onto yours. You kiss him back, starting off as short pecks before they get longer and slower. Your lips began moving in sync, you sit up without disconnecting from him. Eddie pulled you into his lap and you wrap your legs around his waist, one of his hands displayed on your lower back and the other on the back of your neck.

His tongue prods at your bottom lip, you open to allow him entrance. His tongue glides against yours, fighting for dominance. His hand slid from your neck to your throat, holding it firmly but not squeezing it. You buckled down on him, bringing you in even closer to Eddie if physically possible. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his teeth pull on your bottom lip, pulling away from your face as he kisses the soft skin down your neck. You whimper when he licks a broad stripe on the side of your neck and he smirks as he brings your face back to his.

“Any limits with this?” He asks you as he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Do you have any?” You reply with a small smile, secretly melting his heart.

The entire time Eddie was teasing you about having a crush on him, his crush on you quickly developed. While he was with Chrissy, their relationship was rocky from the start. They hardly spent time together and hardly went out on dates, she was too uptight for him. When he came over more to spend time with Steve and when you’d talk in class or the hallway, it went from him finding you attractive to him needing to get to know you more. You occupied his mind constantly and little did he know that he stayed on your mind 24/7. You’d stay around downstairs when he was over or you’d linger around his locker just to look at him and see his smile.

“Not necessarily,” Eddie vocalizes. “But I want you to be comfortable. I know you’re worried about your brother.”

It was odd knowing that he cared about your feelings. The two of you weren’t a couple or anything, but any guy that you would mess around with previously, or even in a relationship with, never cared about your feelings. Especially with how fast the two of you had gotten close.

“Why set any then, right?” You perk up and he grins.

“So, no limits?” He double checked and you concur. “Even with sex?”

“Even with sex.” You beam, that smirk creeping on his face.

He flipped you over onto your back before attacking you with kisses, making you giggle before his lips join yours. His hands rub up the sides of your legs and your hips, pulling you into him. His cock ghosts over your cunt once his hips push into yours.

His hand trails up the shirt you were wearing, eventually cupping your breasts. He slides the shirt over your head and bites his lip once his eyes laid on your perked nipples. He kisses down your neck and now your chest before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. You sigh with contentment as his tongue swirls around your nipple. You grew needier for him the more his attention was on your nipples and his fingertips traced your skin. He was getting just as needy for you, his aching cock being held back from the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Can I?” You ask him sheepishly and he sits back on his knees.

“Can you what, baby?” Eddie asks curiously and you look down at his cock, he smirks. “You wanna suck it?”

“Mhm.” You hum shyly and he nods.

He stands on the edge of the bed and you make your way onto the floor, hurrying to your knees and looking up at him with that sweet smile that drove him crazy. Your fingers hook in the band of his boxers before pulling them down his thighs, your eyes widen at his large length and girth hits his stomach.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him being hard just for you. It should be weird, but it felt natural between the two of you.

You grab him by the base of his dick before licking stripes from the base to the head, Eddie groans in response to the light licks. You take the tip in your mouth, your tongue running circles around him before taking him in deeper. You relax your throat and take him in the farthest you can. You pull back before taking him in again, sucking in your cheeks.

“Fuck, you’re good at this.” He groans, your eyes flick up and meet his. “And god you look so fucking perfect on your knees for me, too.”

Your head bobs up and down his length, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat. You gag around him, sending vibrations to his cock and causing him to groan quietly. You pull off of him and use your hand to jerk his cock while you tend to your already aching jaw. Your eyes never leave his until your mouth is back on him, his eyes flutter closed and the feeling of your hot mouth and spit being everywhere.

“I don’t wanna cum yet but it’s hard when you have such a good mouth and lookin’ so pretty like that.” He breathes out, fighting the urge to finish so quick. “You’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while, huh?”

You continue to suck his dick, spit dribbling down your chin and chest while you hum with satisfaction. His curses cause you to squeeze your thighs together, trying to relief that aching feeling in your cunt, but it was no use. He noticed how fidgety you were getting and knew you needed some relief too.

“On the bed baby, c’mon. I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He demanded, but gently.

He pulls out of your mouth and you get onto the bed, laying on your back. He didn’t waste a single breath before he ripped the boxers you were using as shorts off, your legs close at the sudden drop of temperature.

“No underwear, hm?” He teased and you roll your eyes playfully.

“They were still wet so I left them to dry!” You answer.

“Well it looks like that wasn’t the only thing that’s wet.” He rasps as your legs fall open.

Your face grew hot and red as he lays on his belly, his breath ghosting across your wet core. He planted kisses to your inner things before licking a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. You gasp immediately in response, earning a chuckle from Eddie. He did that pattern for a few moments before focusing on your clit.

His tongue flicks your sensitive bud fluidly, something he’s definitely had practice with. He sucks on your clit gently, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your fingers immediately cling to his hair and he continues flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue before easing a finger into you.

“My god.” You moan out as his finger hooks into you and moves in a come-hither motion.

Just hearing those words were enough to have him falling for you even harder. He thought about this a lot, especially when he went days without seeing you at school or at your house. You thought about this more times than you could even count yourself. You’d think about him sneaking into your room and fucking you senseless while Steve slept in the other room.

“Jesus fucking Christ- Eddie.” You whine out, he looks up to your face with a smirk.

“What is it baby? What do you need?” He coos up at you. “Need my cock?”

“So bad.” You pout and he comes back up to your face.

“Don’t need to pout baby, I said I’d take care of you, right?” Eddie soothes you, you nod. “Feel like you’re ready?”

“‘M ready.” You sigh with a smile and he kisses you once more.

He drags his cock from your clit to your opening before sticking the tip in. He splits you wide open and sinks into you. Once he reaches the hilt, he doesn’t move so you could adjust to his size. The two of you observe the other person’s face as you comfortable and you smile at him.

“You’re perfect.” He exclaims. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re perfect too, Ed’s.” You smile up at him, melting his heart at the cliché but loving nickname.

“You want me to move, now?” He asks in a caring manner and you indicate a yes.

He pulls his hips back before slowing sinking back into you completely, you whence quietly at the feeling of him stretching you but the pain quickly subsides. His thrusts start out slow, his forehead pressed against yours for comfort. Once the sudden shock of his length and girth had worn off, his thrusts had picked up pace.

He held a steady rhythm at first, planting soft kisses on your lips and neck. Your whimpers escaped you with each rock he gave into your body, it was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there.

“How do you usually like it?” You ask him, earning a snicker.

“Honestly? Hard, rough, painful with pleasure.” He answered, continuing to thrust into you at the steady pace. “You strike me as a girl who likes it soft and sensual.”

“Me?” You scoff. “Have you met me?”

His thrusts stop and he looks at you with an inquisitive look.

“Alright princess, what do you like?” He smirks. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Just like that, you had grown shy, maybe even a little embarrassed. But why? It’s only Eddie.

Yeah, it’s only Eddie. The guy that you’ve been dreaming out since last year, the guy who sleeps over a ton when your parents are home but mainly when they’re out of town, the one who teased you for having a crush on him in the first place.

“Any specific names you like to be called? Anything you want me to do sensory wise?” He interrogates.

You still don’t answer.

“Speak to me when I’m talking to you.” He demanded.

Your cunt fluttered around him as a reaction to his assertiveness, that cocky look back on his face.

“Ah, you like being told what to do, don’t you?” He sneered.

“Y-Yes.” You shyly agree.

“There’s that voice.” He coos. “Like being degraded?”

“Mhm.” You hum as his hips began rocking into yours again.

“Pain?”

“Please.” You gasp at the deep, sharp thrust.

Your plea took Eddie by surprise. He was initially asking what you liked with pain, but you gave him a completely different response.

“What’s off limits with pain, baby? Tell me so I can make sure I don’t hurt you.” He urges.

“Just don’t kill me or break a bone and we’ll be good.” You giggle and he laughs lightly.

“You like slapping? Choking? Spanking? Pinching?”

“All of it.”

“Say ‘limit’ if it’s too much and we can stop, ‘kay?” He said and you acknowledge it with a kiss.

He pulls out nearly all the way, only the tip remaining in, before snapping back into you harshly. You let out a loud cry which only made his loss of control worse. He had total control over you and you both loved it.

His hands grip your hips as he thrusts hard again, and again, and again, over and over. Your tits bounce with each thrust and your fingernails rake down Eddie’s torso, leaving a mark. His hand meets your face with a harsh slap and you moan.

“Of course you’d like that, fucking slut.” He growls. “That what you are?”

“Uh huh.” You whine out.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut.” He orders.

“‘M your slut.” You mumble.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. What was that?”

“I’m your slut.” You answer louder.

“That’s what I fucking thought.” He grunts.

He fucks into you relentlessly and hard. Your cheek was red from the numerous slaps he gave you but you loved it. You craved it. You craved him in every aspect.

“Don’t fight me, baby. Open.” He ordered, his tone dark which excited you even more.

You open your mouth for him and he spits, you swallow instantaneously with a smile.

His cock is buried deep in you, he was a perfect fit. His grunts gave you butterflies and made you fall for him even more.

“Please daddy.” You whimper as your fingernails carve moon shapes into his back.

“Aw, daddy’s girl getting all needy on me all of a sudden?” He mocks. “I don’t think you deserve to cum. Not yet, still not done using you.”

He loved the look of frustration on your face when he denied your orgasm. You were already so built up and it was getting harder to control, but you couldn’t disappoint him. You didn’t want to get punished.

Or did you?

Your curiosity of his form of punishment was getting to you. You didn’t have your doubts, but you didn’t know how he would punish you. His hand squeezes around your throat while his spit drips into your mouth.

His cock repeatedly pounds into you, your walls gripping around him the closer you get to your release. He continues choking you as he fucks into you roughly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure as his hand goes from your neck to your clit, rubbing circles around it as he continues thrusting.

“I’m so close.” You shudder against his touch.

“Don’t even think about it.” Eddie ordered with a deep laugh. “Don’t fight me on it.”

His fingertips continue working against you and couldn’t hold it in any longer. When his palm meets your cheek again, that’s what threw you over the edge.

“Oh… f-fuck!” You draw out, your back arching off of the bed.

You clench around him as your orgasm plows through you at full force. Your toes curl as you scream his name, the only thing you see is stars.

His thrusts didn’t slow down any. You hear him growl before his hips snap into yours even harder than before.

“Don’t fuckin’ listen to me when I tell you to do something, huh?” He spits. “You’re gonna be sorry.”

You were in pure bliss, tears spilling down your face at the intense pleasure. Your eyes open and you see Eddie staring down at you as he chases his high, you smile up at him to let him know that you were fine. His thrusts grow sloppier overtime, his groans and moans getting louder and louder.

He quickly pulls out of you, his cum spilling onto your lower stomach as he moans with each drop. Once he had finished he grabbed a towel and cleaned off your belly, kissing your forehead.

“Such a gentleman.” You giggle and he smiles.

“Gotta take good care of my girl.” Eddie hums with a smile. “But you’re still getting punished.”

You both clean up and get dressed, you wrap your arms around Eddie’s torso as you both stand in the middle of the room. You look up at him and he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. He sees his hand prints on your cheek and holds up a finger, telling you to wait there.

He leaves the room before coming back in, he brings you an ice pack as you lay down. Before you could even put the ice pack on your face, he gently kissed the areas that were slightly raised from his hands and gently placed the ice pack on your cheeks.

“You okay?” He asks you tenderly, caressing your long hair.

“Never better.” You breathe out with a chuckle and he grins. “Better than I imagined it would be.”

“Oh yeah? You’ve thought about that?” He snickered and you hum in response. “Since it’s the hour of honesty, I’ve thought about it many times and it was so much better than I envisioned too.”

The two of you lay there just taking in each other. Your legs were intertwined with his and you doze off with the ice pack on your face and your head on his chest.

You wake up to quiet mumbling and hanging off of the edge of the bed. You turn your head to see where the mumbling was coming from and you see Eddie sleeping. He talked a ton in his sleep, full blown conversations, which you also did yourself.

“Ed’s?” You whisper, gently shaking him. “Ed’s.”

“Hm? You alright sweetheart?” He rasps tiredly, not opening his eyes.

“It’s 9:30. You think you could drop me off?” You ask, laying your chin on his chest.

“It’s so early.” He complained as he places your pillow over his head.

“I know but Robin’s coming over later.” You pout and he sighs.

He removes the pillow and looks down at you, even though he had sleep lines and sleep in his eyes, he was still the most perfect man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Hi.” You whisper with a grin.

“Morning, baby.” He replied, kissing you firmly. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

You climb off of him and let him get out of bed. He uses the bathroom while you slide on your jeans, not even bothering to change out of his shirt or boxers. He comes back into the room and jumps into a pair of jeans and throws on a torn shirt, not even brushing his hair. You put your shoes on and follow him out to the van.

“You still coming over later?” You ask him and he nodded.

“Have I ever missed one of Steve’s parties before?” He answered with a laugh and you shrug amused. “Might make a trip upstairs while I’m there.”

“Oh really?” You question slyly and he smirks.

“You still have a punishment, doll.”

He drives into town before pulling into your road, stopping at the stop sign just before you get to your house. You agreed that he’d drop you off there that way in case Steve was outside, he wouldn’t suspect anything.

“I’ll see you tonight.” You smile, kissing his lips.

“See you tonight, sweetheart.” He winks before watching you walk up the road, making sure that you were at least on the edge of your driveway before taking off.

You walk into the house and see Steve and Nancy enjoying their breakfast.

“Where you been?” Steve inquires.

“Jennifer’s.” You respond before making your way up the stairs.

“Why does that shirt look so familiar?” Nancy buts in and your stomach drops.

“This?” You ask as you look at her from the staircase, looking down at Eddie’s shirt. “Oh! It’s this band that everyone loves, everyone has this shirt. You should check into it.”

You run up the stairs without another word and immediately close your door once you reached your room. You sigh to yourself before crawling into your bed, your heart pounding.

You just had sex with your brother’s best friend and you didn’t know where it was going to go between you and Eddie. Only time will tell.

Razor’s Edge

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5851

Notes; thank you to everyone who has shown their support so far and taken the time to read my work, you are the ones who truly keep me motivated to write. much much love <33

(Not Beta Read)

You woke the next morning in the same t-shirt you had worn the day before, clinging to your skin from cold sweat. Your pants had been kicked off at some unknown point during the restless night of sleep you had. It was hard to recall the exact time you had eventually passed out on top of your bed.

Your phone was ringing somewhere underneath your pillow, causing your entire head to buzz. You groaned, wiping the sleep from your eyes. Irina’s name flashed on the screen as the caller on the other line. You answered the call, pressing the speaker button before dropping your phone on your chest.

“Hi honey, just wanted to let you know my flight made it into Sacramento.” Irina spoke. The passersby’s in the busy airport nearly muffled her voice. 

You picked up your phone again, looking at the time. How late had you slept in? The digital clock read 11:03 am. 

“Okay, I’m glad you made it safely.” You were certain your aunt could hear the rasp of your morning voice.

Irina hummed on the other line. “Just give me a call if you need anything while I’m away.” 

“Will do, love you.” You replied, clearing your throat before responding. 

“I love you too.” Irina replied before ending the call. 

You stared up at your ceiling for a moment, thinking over the events of last night. 

You couldn’t help but feel horrible for Charlie. Were he and his father close? Was his mother around? Did he have any siblings, relatives he was close with? So many questions seemed to fill your thoughts. Though, you knew they were questions that would more than likely go unanswered. It would be an awful choice, you decided, to bring up this suspected trauma unprompted. 

Maybe you could try to divulge more information from your aunt. Based upon her reaction, she must have been relatively close to his father at some point in time. Remembering back to the somber expression your aunt wore last night, you decided against that idea as well. 

You thought back on the relationship you had with your own father. He was an objectively miserable man. How would you have reacted, though, if you had lost him under the same circumstances? It would have surely still been devastating to some degree. 

You’d keep your newfound information to yourself for the time being. It was the only reasonable option you could think of. You were certain Charlie wouldn’t want you to treat him any differently after finding out about what had happened.

The familiar buzz of your phone’s ringer pulled you momentarily from your running thoughts. You grabbed your phone, pushing yourself up into a sitting position on your bed, your legs crossed closely in front of you. 

A message from an unsaved number appeared on the screen. You recognized it almost immediately as being Charlie’s from the group chat the night before. Only he hadn’t messaged both you and Robbie. It was only sent to you. 

You sucked in a sharp breath as you unlocked your phone. The message read, “Hey, Robbie wanted me to let you know he woke up feeling sick and won’t be able to make it tonight.” 

Your face fell into a frown as you read over the message again, your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you thought up a response. 

Another message from Charlie arrived moments later. “He said he’d take over any revisions if you and I would still be willing to finish the presentation tonight.”

The corner of your lips twitched up into a half smile. Now that you and Charlie were on seemingly good terms again, there shouldn’t be any issue with just the two of you working on this together. 

Your fingers unknowingly found themselves twisted through your hair as you typed your response. “Works for me. Same time and place?” 

Charlie sent his response almost instantly. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

You had quite a bit of time to spare until 7pm rolled around. You went through your weekend routine as usual, cleaning up as you went throughout the home. By 6pm you had showered and pulled yourself mostly together. As you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, running your fingers through your drying hair, a new thought crept into your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through Charlie’s mess of hair. 

Your skin burned hot as you dropped your hands at your sides. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back up at your own reflection. 

You couldn’t shake the thought as you made your way into the kitchen downstairs. You stared blankly into the pantry, your thoughts elsewhere. 

Of course, you had always believed there was something charming about Charlie’s character. He was objectively good looking, at least you had thought so. But, thinking back on those few moments you shared alone with him on the porch the night before, there was just something- something about him was strikingly beautiful. 

You bit at your lip, squinting your eyes as you pulled your thoughts together. You reminded yourself that the last thing you wanted to do at the moment was become wrapped up in unrequited crushes and feelings similar to the sort. It was just easier on your own. You had come to this conclusion years ago. It was understandably difficult to trust others, impossible to let anybody in. 

Just as you were about to shut the pantry door, your eyes caught a glint in the back of the pantry, just behind a bag of sugar. You reached forward, grabbing the bottle in your hands. 

You turned over a bottle of red wine, scanning the label quickly. 

You hummed to yourself, setting the bottle on the kitchen counter. You stared it down for a moment, tapping your foot against the hardwood flooring. 

You had no clue how long it had been stuffed away back there. Surely your aunt wouldn’t miss it too terribly. You glanced up at the clock above the stove which read 6:44pm. A small glass wouldn’t hurt anything, just something to dispel your faltering nerve. 

You dug through the kitchen drawers, searching for a bottle opener. Just as you popped the cork, a knock at the front door rang through the home. ‘Shit.’ You steadied yourself, nearly knocking the bottle off the counter. 

You thought you would have had at least a few more minutes to yourself. You quickly made your way to the front door, taking a deep breath before turning the handle. 

Charlie stood in front of you. One hand buried in his front pocket, the other holding the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. You held the frame of the door, following his line of sight to your bare legs. You felt your face grow hot. You hadn’t realized just how much of your oversized t-shirt covered the small shorts you wore underneath.

You quickly pulled your t-shirt up, holding it against your stomach. “Shorts, promise.” God, why were you acting like this? 

Charlie swallowed, looking up to meet your eyes. “Yeah, right.” There was a moment of quiet passed between the two of you. Charlie’s eyes drifted just past you into the entryway.

“Oh, right. Come in.” You pushed the door open further for him. He followed you inside, stepping beside you as you locked the door behind him. 

He turned to head towards the living room. Without giving it much thought, you interjected. “We can go up to my room.” You motioned up the stairs, watching as Charlie stopped in his tracks.

“Your room? Your aunt won’t mind?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he kicked his shoes off.

“Oh no, she wouldn’t mind. She’s out of town this weekend, anyway.” You replied.

Charlie froze for a moment, looking up the stairs past you. He met your eyes again before responding. “Cool, yeah. Your room sounds great.”  

You smile down at him, leading him up the staircase. 

“Well, this is it,” you shrugged. “Just put your stuff anywhere you’d like.” You finished, motioning around the room. 

You picked your bag off the ground and climbed into your bed, moving close to the wall. Charlie placed his stuff on the desk beside your bed before dropping himself into the adjoining chair. You began pulling out your things, watching as he intently did the same. He seemed so incredibly focused on the things in front of him. Neither of you spoke. 

As you opened your laptop to access the shared group presentation, Charlie spoke up.

“Okay, I actually went ahead and got everything finished up earlier today.” Your breath got stuck in your chest as you met his eyes. “I figured we could just work on any revisions together.” You could tell from just below your line of sight that he was nervously messing with the corner of a piece of his notebook paper. 

“Oh,” you weren’t sure what to say. “Well, thank you. You totally didn’t have to-”

“No, I know. I wanted to.” Charlie interrupted. 

You nodded, sucking in your bottom lip. You scanned through the presentation. It really had been finished. It must have taken him hours. 

There was an uncomfortable silence, making the air thick and heavy around you. You wished you could think of something else to say. An image of the opened bottle of red wine in the kitchen flashed in your mind. 

“Would you like something to drink?” You asked so softly, you couldn’t have been certain you had actually asked it aloud. 

Charlie’s eyes snapped up to meet you. Relief almost played itself across his expression. “Yes, please. If it’s not any trouble.” He rubbed his palms flat against the denim against his thighs. 

You shot up, crawling out of bed. “Not at all.” You gave him your most reassuring smile. 

You rushed downstairs, throwing open the cabinet where you knew Irina kept her best glasses. You grabbed two by the stem and held the bottle in the other hand. 

You made your way carefully up the stairs, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom. 

Charlie peered behind himself, eyes falling to the bottle in your hand. 

“Oh,” he began, “I didn’t realize…” 

You suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Did he even drink? 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve clarified. I can go and grab some water or something-” You began turning on your heel. 

Charlie was quick to rise to his feet. “No, no, this is great.” He carefully took the glasses and bottle from your hands. You inhaled sharply and nodded as his fingers brushed against your own. 

You climbed back into bed, watching him fill each glass, respectively. You couldn’t help but notice the way his hand slightly shook as he passed you your glass. 

You took a long drink, watching him do the same. It felt so warm in your throat. You sighed, sinking further into the bed. Charlie seemed to relax a bit in his spot as well. 

A few minutes passed by in a much more comfortable quietness. 

You couldn’t help but become distracted by the man sitting beside you. He just felt so far away. You wished he’d have sat on the bed next to you instead. Every once in a while, you’d feel him glance over at you as you reread the same passage over and over again, still for some reason, unable to comprehend what it said. 

You peered up from your notes, watching Charlie slide a scribbled over sticky note that sat stuck to the base of your lamp. 

You recognized it immediately, feeling yourself shift awkwardly. It was one of the lists you kept from film club, filled almost entirely with movies that Charlie had mentioned in passing. 

“Are these…?” Charlie asked, eyes widening as he made his way down the list. 

You rolled over onto your stomach, reaching over to pull the list from Charlie’s hands. 

“Mhm,” you nodded. “I’ve almost gotten myself caught up.” You tried your best to conceal the shyness you felt at being found out. 

Your heart picked up quickly as he looked you over. There was something about his expression that felt so heavy, it was an unfamiliar sight. 

“What’s next on your list?” He asked, picking up the glass you had set down and refilling it alongside his own. 

You read over the scratched out mess of your handwriting. “Dawn of the Dead, but the 1978 version. Not the remake, of course.” 

A smirk spread across Charlie’s lip, as if he’d taught you well. He held up your glass to take from him. You took it from him slowly, feigning to be worried about spilling a single drop. By this point, your head was already beginning to feel fuzzy. It was a comfortable warmth. 

You slipped the note into your backpack, trying to focus once again on the presentation in front of you. It was useless. 

Before giving it much thought, you spoke up, “You know, I’ve already rented it.” 

Robbie could manage the revisions on his own, right?

“Oh yeah?” Charlie asked, turning in his chair to face you. 

“Yeah,” you began, trying to convince yourself that this next question would actually be a good idea. “Would you want to watch it with me?” 

“Tonight?” Charlie’s hands were back against the top of his thighs. His eyes flashed between you and the T.V. that was mounted above your dresser on the opposite side of your bedroom. 

“If that would be okay with you, I’m honestly not getting much work done over here.” You replied, getting up from the bed. 

Charlie cleared his throat before answering. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds cool.”

You smiled over your shoulder at him as you made your way over the DVD player that sat on top of your dresser. 

You messed with the CD case, popping it open and inserting the disk. You picked up the remote, waiting until the title screen flashed on the T.V. above you. You noticed the top drawer of the dresser was pulled halfway open; you slid it closed, scolding yourself. It contained the clothing you’d dread any guest seeing. You swore you were always so careful about keeping these things in order.

You flipped your bedroom lights off, dimming the lamp that sat on the desk beside Charlie before finding your place back in bed. 

You pressed play, finishing the last of the wine in your glass, before setting the remote and glass on the desk beside you. 

A few moments passed by uninterrupted. You looked over at Charlie. He was sitting so unbelievably stiff in the chair, it just seemed so uncomfortable. 

“Charlie,” you called out to him. He snapped his eyes to meet your own. “You don’t have to watch the entire movie from my desk.” You half laughed.

He stood quickly, nearly knocking things about your desk. You tried your best to hide your smile as he laid down on top of the mattress; the bed dipped under his weight. 

You both kept a fair amount of distance between each other. The movie was well underway. However, you found yourself becoming increasingly more interested in the uneven way Charlie’s chest rose and fell with each breath than what was happening on the screen.

You wished you could just reach over and touch him, move the hair out of his eyes, trace your finger over the arch of his nose. 

You could barely take notice of the way your vision had fixated on him as your head grew blurred and warm. 

You wished he’d turn and face you, say something. He seemed to be frozen in place, legs and arms held in a way that’d rival a statue. His face was fixated on the T.V., as if he were too nervous to move even an inch. It was so warm. The room felt so warm.

You could barely catch the small glimpses he’d spare towards you from his peripherals. You wish he’d just reach over- your eyes trailed down to his hands resting on his stomach, watching the veins in them roll as his finger flexed and twitched. 

You reached up, placing a hand against your face. Your skin was cold to the touch. Why did everything feel so warm?

Your clothing suddenly felt increasingly more suffocating. You were growing desperate for some form of relief. You pulled at the collar of your shirt. Your shorts felt so tight, nearly restricting. You couldn’t explain why you felt so hot. The t-shirt you had on could almost be a dress, anyway, right? 

You climbed over Charlie, one hand on either side of his chest. You steadied yourself on the ground, your head thoroughly swimming. You tried your very best to focus forward on the movie. You unbuttoned the waist of your shorts, carefully stepping out of them.

You heard a heavy sigh from behind you; the sound made the hair on your skin raise. 

“I’m sorry, moving out of the way. Promise.” You laughed, turning back to face Charlie. 

You slid into the bed, finding your spot in the small space between Charlie and the edge of the mattress. Opting not to try to climb over him again in your current state.

Charlie froze in place beside you as you shifted on to your side, trying to find the most comfortable spot between him and the screen. He was warm, so warm. You had just felt as though you were burning up moments ago, but the thought of him moving any further away made your body ache. His warmth was soothing. 

You could feel Charlie’s uncertainty as he began to shift away from you in the bed, providing you with more space presumably. 

You couldn’t explain why you did what you did next. You reacted without giving it much thought at all. You reached behind you, pulling Charlie’s furthest hand towards you until it rested on top of your hair. 

The new position forced him to shift in bed beside you until he was lying on his side as well. His hand flexed under your touch. You wished you could pull him closer. 

His fingers stretched throughout your hair and you sighed, feeling your back sink closer to his chest. You could nearly feel his heart pounding against you. Your hand fell to rest on your side. 

His other hand shifted, moving into a more comfortable position below your neck. “Is this okay?” He whispered right behind your ear. The feeling of his cool breath sent chills up your spine. You nodded, the words lost from you.

You reached up, tracing the veins wove through his forearm. His fist closed and flexed at your touch. The film, just as the presentation, was now lost on you. 

It was just him beside you. The way he smelt, his fingers carefully sliding through your hair and across your cheek, the unsteady beat of his heart against your back. You found yourself sinking further and further into his arms. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as he pulled through the mess of your hair. 

At the sound of your voice, Charlie shifted his weight, wrapping his arm under your neck further to pull you around to face him. 

You both seemed surprised at his sudden movement. You were now face to face, just inches apart. The movie murmured faintly off somewhere in the distance. 

Even in the dark, his blue eyes were so incredibly clear. You reached up, brushing the hair that had fallen in front of his face away. His eyes flitted between your own eyes and lips. You had never noticed before just how full his own lips were. His lips were tinted a deep red from the cherry wine you had shared. You couldn’t help but imagine how sweet he’d taste. 

If you’d just move a bit closer- 

Both of his large hands wrapped throughout your hair again in near desperation. 

You returned the gesture, pushing your thigh through the middle of his own. Lips crashed against one another. 

It was unlike anything you had experienced before. This brash kiss fell into a soft rhythm, gentle exploration as you rocked into one another. 

It didn’t take long until the slow movements devolved into a harsh quick pace as you both grew more comfortable in each other’s arms. There was an air of near violence as your tongues wrapped around each other.

You needed more of him, needed to be impossibly closer in any way you could. Sensing this, Charlie wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on top to straddle his waist. 

You sat back, smiling down at him as he unintentionally bucked his hips up closer to you. It was wonderful seeing the state he was in. You knew you were in just about the same shape. 

You were quick to meet his lips again. He held you steadily against himself, continuing to rock himself against you.

Your hands hazily fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. You needed to feel more of his skin against you. The barrier of clothing that separated you from him made you miserable. 

Once the last button was popped, he sat up in bed. Pulling you up with him, his arm clung around your waist. He shrugged the shirt off of himself, throwing it on the ground. You were quick to bring your lips to his again, running your hands up his now bare stomach. He was impossibly toned, felt hard to the touch. 

“Fuck.” He groaned against your lips as your hips rolled against him. You could feel him getting hard below you. A blush crept up your skin. The sound of his voice like this built up an indiscernible feeling inside of you. You wanted to hear him make that sound again. 

His hands were quick to find themselves under your t-shirt, his thumb brushed against the outer lace of your bra. He reached behind you, fumbling with the clasp. You leaned your head against his, smiling softly as he gazed at you in wonder. 

You reached behind yourself, helping him with his work uncertain work. You slid the bra off yourself, throwing it next to Charlie’s discarded shirt. You grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it swiftly over your head. 

You could hear Charlie’s breath audibly stuck in his throat as his eyes darted wildly across your body. The full weight of this situation nearly hit you at once. You brought your arms shyly across your chest. You had never been in front of a man this way. 

You could barely meet his eyes. He was quick to pull you back in to kiss him. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He whispered against you as he kissed your forehead. Your arms melted down to your side as his hands traced the curve of your waist. 

You could feel his hands shake as he cupped your breasts, his fingers softly grazed against your nipples. You sighed, pulling him closer to you. That frenzied feeling returned in full force. 

You needed impossibly more of him. He was quick to act, laying you back down on the bed. He hovered over you, eyes burning into your nearly naked body in front of him. 

His right hand reached down, fumbling with his buckle. You watched intently as his hand slipped underneath the waistband of his boxers to adjust himself. Your eyes fluttered back as you traced your fingers mindlessly over the defined v-line that led further down his hips. He shook at your touch. 

His lips found themselves trailing kisses down your neck and chest. He was so gentle with you. Painfully gentle. Your hands wove through his hair, arching up into him as his pace quickened. He slid further down the bed, wrapping his arms around both of your legs, holding them open to kiss down your thighs. 

You were practically already coming undone below him. He’d come so close to the spot you wanted him to be. Every time he’d pull back away, you’d whine in frustration. He’d hum back against you in response. 

You couldn’t handle the pressure building up inside you anymore. Your right hand traced slowly underneath the lace of your panties. You stopped just before slipping through your folds, looking up to meet Charlie’s eyes. His expression seemed nearly pained, completely desperate. 

“I don’t know- I’ve never…” Charlie could barely get the words out from between his lips. Even in the dim lighting, you could tell he was flustered, embarrassed at his own lack of experience. It was reassuring to you though, you had practically no experience with all of this either. It was sweet, how shy he seemed at that moment. 

“It’s okay. I’ll show you.” You gave him a reassuring smile before carefully intertwining your fingers with his own. He followed suit, hooking his free hand around your panties before sliding them off you. Your desperation for him drowned out any insecurity you could have possibly felt with him above you in that state you were in. 

You brought his fingers against you, sighing into him as he carefully let you guide him in slow circles against your clit. The knot deep inside you only grew as he became increasingly comfortable. Your hands dropped to his shoulders as he became familiar with the pace and direction you wanted. 

His free arm wrapped around your back, gripping your sides with bruising force as you started to writhe below him. His head dipped beside your ear, “Please, please let me taste you.” He practically begged. 

You could only nod, sucking in a sharp breath as his fingers moved faster, losing their rhythm. 

He was quick to shift his weight as he sat up for a moment, pulling off his constricting jeans and socks, leaving him nearly entirely exposed. You groaned at the sight of him in front of you. He was so damningly beautiful. Your vision flitted down to the large impression in his boxers, your eyes widened at the size of him. 

Before you could process this discovery, he was kneeling on the bed in front of you again. One arm snaked around your thigh as you propped yourself on your elbows to watch him make his way through his. 

He kissed just above your clit, eyes looking up at you for approval. 

“Please Charlie,” you urged him on. 

His lips were against your most sensitive spot immediately. You cried out, screwing your eyes shut. Nothing had ever been so perfect as this. He kissed against you a few more times before deciding to explore you with his tongue, “Fuck, it’s so good.” He groaned against you, speaking more to himself than you. 

The vibration of his deepening voice sent shockwaves throughout your body. Your eyes and legs involuntarily worked to screw shut. Charlie acted quick, pushing your thighs back apart with a painful grip. You were sure you’d have his finger prints bruised into your skin the next morning. ‘Good’ you thought to yourself. 

You could tell he was trying his best to emulate the motion you had shown him with your fingers with his tongue. It was maddening, completely perfect. 

“Fuck baby, you’re doing so well.” The words spilled mindlessly out of you. He groaned as you rolled your hips against him. Your eyes trailed down his chest. His right hand found its way inside his boxers. He was palming at himself as if he were in pain. You wanted to be the one to relieve him. 

The sight of him pleasing himself as he worked you over was enough to nearly send you crashing blindly over the edge. You could barely get the next words out of you, “Don’t, don’t touch yourself.” You were trying to keep it all together as he whined against you, following your demands. 

“Fuck Charlie, I’m going to…” you said between broken moans. 

He pulled away for a moment, his entire expression darkened. It could’ve easily been terrifying in any other context, you noted to yourself. The fingers that had just been wrapped around your thigh found themselves quickly against your entrance. Your eyes widened as you connected with his gaze, realizing his intentions. You’d do anything to have him inside of you. 

He kissed your lips. You sucked the taste of yourself off of him, dragging his bottom lip between your teeth. His middle and ring dove forward inside of you. His other hand came up quickly to muffle your screams. 

“Shit, you’re so tight.” His chest shuddered at his own words. A tear rolled down your face as he talked you through it. “So wet for me.” 

His free hand pressed down against your lower stomach. The additional pressure was the last push you needed. Your whole nervous system seemed to snap as his fingers fucked you through your high. You could barely hear his praise as your ears rang out with incredulous force. You were sobbing out his name, vision white and spotted at the blinding pleasure. 

He pulled out of you carefully, slowly letting you come back to yourself for a moment before diving his tongue back against you. 

You writhed up against the footboard. It was too much, too overstimulating. Your hands pulled at his hair to push him away. He grabbed both your wrists with one hand, holding you in place below him. You were babbling, stuck between ‘It’s too much’ and ‘please don’t stop.’ 

Within a matter of moments, you were coming undone again against his face. Your mind was shattered, your body a wreck under his touch. 

He fell back against the headboard, catching his breath as he watched you ride out your high. 

As soon as you could partially catch your breath again, you sat up, watching him shift uncomfortably from his pressing erection. 

It was his turn to be taken care of. You crawled your way up to rest between his thighs. His eyes darted across your face, as if he were trying to read your thoughts.

You couldn’t hide your smile as you leaned into him. You kissed him slowly, licking across his lips. Your lips slowly made their way down his chest as your fingers grazed across the fabric against his cock. He whimpered above you at the pressure. The sound made your stomach clench. You’d give anything to hear it again. 

He slid further down the bed as your lips trailed kisses and shallow bites marks further down his stomach. 

Once you could tell he was in a more comfortable position, you hooked your fingers into the waistline of boxers. He lifted his hips, helping you pull them down his thighs before discarding them on the ground below. 

You sat back on your heels, mouth agape at the sight in front of you. You could do little to hide your shock at the uncovered size of him. 

You glanced up at him, willing yourself to put on a face that feigned at least a hint of experience. He smirked down at you, as if he could tell exactly what thoughts were passing through your mind. 

“You don’t have to…” he muttered, eyes still full of adoration for you. 

Before giving him the opportunity to finish his sentence, you wrapped your fingers against the base of his cock. You could feel him pulse under your touch. His next words were stuck and gone in his chest. 

You held his gaze as your hand carefully twisted its way up to the tip of his cock. You gathered his precum on your fingers and circled it around the length of him. His mouth fell open as his stomach flexed under you. 

“Does that feel good?” You asked softly. 

He bit his lip, nodding his head yes. You were quick to pick up your pace at his approval.  

His hands were desperate, switching between grabbing at the bedsheets and headboard and any of your skin he could get ahold of. Stunning whimpers and pleas spilled out of him as you found the motion and speed he needed. 

You pulled away for a moment, moving yourself further down the bed. You held him still in one hand again as you kissed a trail down from his navel. Your eyes met with his as your lips hovered above the tip of his cock. You gathered spit on the tip of your tongue and let it fall slowly onto him. He cursed a string of expletives, his eyes rolling back into his head as you took him into your mouth. 

You thought carefully over each motion, keeping your teeth back, hollowing out your cheeks. The sensation was entirely new, but the way he began to convulse below you let you know you were doing something right. You wanted nothing more than to make him feel the same way he had made you. 

His hands wrapped almost painfully through your hair as he bucked further and further down your throat. You tried your best to relax, allowing him to take the space he wanted. 

Your throat burned, tears and spit covered your face and chest. You wouldn’t have possibly wanted it any other way. 

You were both becoming increasingly sloppy and starved in your movements. His right hand grabbed at your throat, pulling your face up to meet his eyes. You stilled, letting him fuck your throat as he pleased. It didn’t take long before his movements stilled and stuttered. 

You felt him pulse in your mouth; you were flooded with his release, warmth coated your throat and tongue. The taste and sight above you made your entire body shudder. It was heavenly. You felt truly blessed to be the cause of it all. You could vaguely make out your name being spilled from between his lips.

His chest heaved as you carefully pulled away from him, his cock falling against his stomach. 

You caught his eyes again, making a show to swallow what he had given to you. He pulled you into himself, kissing all over your face until you were laughing in his arms. 

You dropped into the bed beside him, watching him shift his weight and stand. He scanned the room before spotting the bath towel that hung beside your bedroom door. He made quick work of cleaning the two of you up, tracing kisses across you as he did so. 

Your nerves were all shot. Your entire being was exhausted and heavy. 

He dropped the towel next to the discarded pile of clothing that had accumulated on your bedroom floor. Charlie slid back in bed beside you, lifting the disheveled duvet over you both. He pulled you up onto his chest. You sighed as he swept the hair out of your face. 

You were in a complete haze, halfway into a deep sleep. 

“Thank you,” Charlie whispered above you. 

You hummed, reaching up to kiss under his jaw. “Thank you.” You replied, pulling a sore a leg over his thighs, resting your head back down against him.

The movie’s title screen music played on repeat in the background; you couldn’t be the least bit bothered to turn it off. 

ALL I WANTED

part one | part two | part three

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader

summary: your band, Daughters of Vampira, and Corroded Coffin hate each other and are struggling to keep a clean image in the media; so, in an attempt to solve the issue, your managers try to come up with a solution.

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, smoking, cheating, themes of misogyny/sexism, and eddie being a dick <3

word count: 12.9k

| Daughters of Vampira setlist | Corroded Coffin setlist |

-story masterlist- | -main masterlist-

You were a musician. A rockstar. On your way to being one of the greats. Your band, Daughters of Vampira, was a small, feminist rock band out of Hawkins, Indiana. You created this band with your friends, Robin, Nancy, and Max, an outlet the four of you used to sing and write your little hearts out. You hit it big when you all moved to Los Angeles, playing at some lame bar when a producer walked up to you after the show, saying she wanted to see more, handing you a business card. 

Then boom. 

Everything was up from there. You got signed onto a record deal– played shows, signed autographs, walked carpets, and did interviews. Your wallet was a bottomless pit. En route to being wed, you got engaged to your production assistant turned bassist, and all was well— until about five minutes ago.

You came home from a day at the studio with your band, crafting a new song, playing with guitar riffs, and imagining lyrics. This track was going to be big; a song about your love for your fiance, a tale of how magnetic and beautiful every second was and will be.

You unlocked the door to your shared apartment, kicking off your sneakers, when you noticed a pair of red heels, which is weird because you hate heels. Maybe they were your friend Angie’s shoes; she knows where you hide your spare key and sometimes sneaks in when you’re not home. Furrowing a brow, you cautiously set your bag and keys down, looking around you for any more clues— her bag or her keys, anything. Your socked feet softly pad across your cold, wooden floors as you walk into the apartment's threshold, glancing into the kitchen. Nothing. You turned to the living room, unknowingly holding your breath—still nothing. Suspicion itches in your mind as you take in the space around you. You turn the corner to your bedroom and see the door left ajar. 

You almost think nothing of it; you wouldn’t be mad at Angie taking a nap in your room; she’s your childhood best friend, but then you hear it— the two voices. The first voice is your fiance, Scott, and the second is an unknown woman.

They’re laughing. They’re whispering about something you can’t hear either because they’re either speaking too quietly or your sudden rage is filling out the space in your ears; you’re not sure which it is. You quickly glance back towards the door, eyeing the heels for the second time— your heart drops.

It was Angie. Those were her heels; you helped her pick them out, for fucks sake. You storm up to the door and swing it open without a second thought, and your eyes widen at the sight before you. You had so badly wished your mind was playing some sick trick on you, and you were just hearing things. You were wrong.

Your fiance and childhood best friend, Angie, are sprawled out in your white-sheeted bed, heads laid on your pillows tousled, under your roof— and both incredibly naked. 

Despite the anger, your eyes quickly fill with tears, salty pools of resentment and betrayal threatening to spill over. Scott sees you in the doorway and scrambles out of bed, hastily grabbing a pair of boxers to pull over his bare hips. You can hear him sputtering out excuses, apologies, and reasons through the fog— so many words that sound like nothing but white noise to you. 

He stumbles his way over to you, hands reaching out to grasp you and raising in surrender when you yank away from him. You can hardly think; a cloudy moment where you feel as if the floor has been wiped from below you and you’re free-falling in some shitty excuse of a dream. 

“Sweetheart, please just listen–” He didn’t get to finish his sentence; the palm of your hand cracked down against his cheek to stop whatever bullshit excuse was coming. Angie shrieked, jumping out of bed, still with no clothes on, as she hurried to his side, an obvious two-against-one— that’s clarified when she shoots you a pointed look, fire building up in her eyes— and you can’t believe the audacity. 

Scott looks back at you, cheek red with the sting of your rage as he points a finger at you, “Don’t you dare fucking touch her,” he scolds as if you were a child, warning you to leave the cookie jar alone. You scoff, your mouth falling agape as you laugh humorlessly. “Me? Touch her?” You point to the naked girl. Your neck heats in fury as you shake your head, “That is rich, Scott.” 

You step back, eyeing both of them and ignoring the lump in your throat as you speak, “So, how long has this been going on?” They stare at you like they’re fucking clueless, and it ticks you off to no end, “In my own fucking bed? With my best friend?” Your tears are hot as they begin streaming down your cheeks, and the harsh swipe of your wrist to wipe them away stings, but you refuse to let them see you cry. Your mind is cluttered with questions, but they come out like bullets, firing round after round. 

Angie takes to answering you, saying your name to halt your questions, “We– we’re in love, and… and he doesn’t..” She looks to Scott for guidance, her eyes pleading for him to help her. Your fingers shake in anger.

“I want to call the wedding off,” Scott says, looking you in the eyes while he and your best friend link fingers. They look fucking stupid, standing there naked and feigning unity– you almost want to laugh. You scoff again, folding your arms over your chest like that would hide your pain from them, despite the evident ghost of tears still clinging to your skin. 

You glance around the room, around at the life you had planned for yourself, for him. Pictures of your engagement day, the closet you two shared, the fucking bed you shared, the life the two of you shared. More tears fall, and you don’t bother brushing them away this time. You nod, defeated.  “Yeah, that’s– yeah, we can… we can do that.” You wipe at your tears, fingers shaking with agony as you swallow the words. 

Your ex-fiance reaches out for your arm, and you back away, like he’s contagious– like his touch carries the heat of the sun. “Don’t touch me,” you snarled, watery gaze boring into his brown eyes. 

“The wedding’s off, so… Take your shit and,” you look at your childhood best friend— your ex-childhood best friend, and your heart aches. This fucking hurts. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you dismissively wave your hand towards the clothes strewn across the floor, “And take her shit and get the fuck out.” You turn to leave but stop when Scott speaks, “I can’t just do that; I–” He stutters at the stab of your glare, “I need to call a truck so I can carry everything.” 

You laugh, tilting your head, “Nah, don’t worry, I can help you with that.”

You pace to your apartment window, swinging it open and ignoring the confused voices behind you when you start picking up various items. Scott’s eyes widen as he watches you storm over to the window, a heap of his things in your arms. He scrambles to you, yelling as you toss his stuff out the window. He’s looking out the window, watching them fall, “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” You shriek after every item you throw: his computer, acoustic guitar, books on Logistics, and How To Save Money Like A Businessman. 

You flutter about the room, shaking Angie off when she tries to grab you, ignoring her when she falls to the floor in a heap of naked limbs. You pick up a pricey statue that was Scott’s, ignoring his protests, courteously tossing it out the window to join his items. 

You storm out of the room, glancing around for any of Scott’s stuff. Yes, this was your apartment, but you were working on sharing it— sharing it with him. Your fiance. Ex-fiance. You skirt out to the living room, the two lovebirds hot on your tail and begging you to stop. You walk over to the balcony doors, pushing them open and ignoring the sound of the doors cracking against the wall, some picture frames falling to the floor. 

Pictures of you and him. 

You pick them up and toss them over the balcony, looking around for any other fallen pieces. You thoroughly sweep your apartment— as thoroughly as you can through your tears of rage, gathering jackets, shirts, and shoes and carelessly tossing them over the balcony. You ignore them as they hastily put on their clothes, brushing past them to pace to the door.

Your gaze is hot and heavy on Angie’s heels. Those shiny, blood-red, smooth pumps. They oozed sex appeal and smirked at you, asking, daring, challenging you. Angie scrambles to you, yelling for you to put them down, yelling that they were Jimmy Choos, that they were expensive— like you would care. 

You shrug her off as you walk back to the balcony, hanging them over the ledge and turning to gaze at her as she watches with tears brimming. Pathetic. You look into her eyes and drop them— one by one, “Fetch,” you whisper hoarsely.

Angie begins to cry, turning and running to Scott, who points an accusatory finger at you, “You’re a fucking crazy bitch. You couldn’t just end things like a civilized human fucking being?” He exclaims, “You are fucking insane!” He grits out, holding Angie by the waist. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and you better have my shit,” he says scathingly.

When they both have an appropriate amount of clothes on— Angie settling for one of his oversized shirts and panties, him with sweats— Scott hastily searches for his keys. You watch them both, numb and unmoving, and it feels like your body is vibrating in a storm of emotions. Scott finds his keys and wallet, yanking Angie by the hand and hauling her out the door, but not before he shoots you a glare— a look that tells you it’s over. Completely done with no room for redemption— you don’t care either way.

The door slams shut, and silence fills the space. You stand there for what seems like eons, basking in the fizzling heat of your emotions before shuffling towards your bag near the door and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. You search for your lighter, growing irritated when it seems to be missing. You toss your bag to the floor with a curse and walk to the gas stove, turning the knob until a rim of flames arises. You slip the cigarette between your snot-slick lips, ducking your head towards the stove top and watching the cancerous stick catch fire. 

You stand upright, inhaling and puffing out the smoke. You grab your flip phone, shuffling towards the balcony for fresh air while you make a call, but to your dismay, a crowd is gathered below your building, watching and taking pictures. At closer glance, you realize these people are none other than paparazzi— the very bane of your existence. They’re already recording; you can hear them chattering about what they suspect is happening, making up stories for the cameras and soon-to-come tabloids. 

Then, to make matters worse, Scott and Angie skirt out from the building entrance and start picking some items up, the paparazzi asking various intruding questions. Scott has enough grace and respect for you to deny a comment, opting for catching a taxi with Angie instead. With a roll of your eyes, you walk back into your apartment and busy yourself doing a shitty job clearing the mess you’d made. However, like clockwork, your phone rings.

You know it’s Miss Sinclair; well, Erica, as she always corrects you. Your music manager, a firecracker, that one, but overall a good friend on your side. 

You answer, taking a drag from the cigarette as you step onto your terrace again, breathing out a cloud of smoke. “What?” You ask snappily into the phone, glancing down at the crowd of people taking pictures of you. Assholes.

”What? What do you mean, what?” Erica hisses through the speaker. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Tiger?” A nickname she has for you that originated from God knows where. “Yeah, like… what’s up?” You play dumb, smiling sarcastically and waving innocently to the cameras below you.

“Why the hell do I have people blowing my line asking me why you’re tossing shit onto the streets of Los Angeles like it’s a goddamn Goodwill?” She impatiently asks.

You shrug, even though she can’t see you, “Dunno. See you tomorrow at the studio.” You pull the phone away from your ear, hearing her shriek and yell at you, commanding you not to hang up. You slap the flip phone closed, ending the call; her words cut off. You take another drag of the cigarette before flicking the bud off the balcony at the intruders, watching them back away to glare at you, yelling a few curses. You flip them two middle fingers in response before turning to walk back into your apartment, closing the doors behind you. 

You’re going to write a song. A kickass song.

“And then I threw all his shit out the fucking window,” you chuckle, retelling the story to your drinking companion, Robin Buckley, the drummer of your band. She smirks and downs another shot of vodka, “Yeah.. you uh,” she grimaces and smacks her lips at the bitter drink, “you created quite the stir earlier today,” She points at you and winks, picking up her forgotten glass of whiskey beside her and holding it out to you, in cheers. 

You sigh and smile, and inevitably you clink your whiskey-filled glass against hers as she says, “To shitty men and new beginnings— preferably with women,” she winks again, laughing along with you as you lighten up from her joke. You down the rest of your drink and put your glass down, sucking your teeth before rolling your lips inward as you stare thoughtlessly, the whiskey leaving burning kisses in your throat. 

The loud, underground celebrity-only bar drowns out behind you. What were you going to do? You had so much planned with Scott, an entire fucking wedding, a home, maybe even kids. And as if that’s not enough, you wrote an entire song about him. You were almost finished with it, so close to recording it and putting it out, maybe with tour dates to match. 

Now it's gone. Dead and buried. 

A whole song, written in 4 weeks, about your love, the love of your life, your supposed forever person, and he threw it all away. You knew love wasn’t easy. It never was, especially not after your rise to fame. It was hard to find time for date nights, for sex, for just seeing each other and talking. But you would’ve never imagined this to be how it ended.

You can’t help but feel as though this might have been your fault. Some small, pessimistic, mean part of you nagging that you could’ve prevented this if you had just changed. You tried to make time for Scott, you really did, but you got caught up in the music— the music for him. You worked tirelessly at it. For Scott to hear this song and immediately know it’s about him. You wanted it to be a wedding gift, maybe, to play it at your wedding for everyone to hear your love. You had never been so soft in a song, so open and disgustingly lovesick, and you wasted it all on him. Maybe it was your fault; perhaps it was for the better—

“Hey, you okay?” Robin cuts through your thoughts, “You went a little quiet there,” she smiles softly, playfully nudging her shoulder against yours. “Yeah,” you nod, “I-I’m good. Great.” You nod along with your words, trying fiercely to believe them.

You were not good, nor were you great. You were, to put it nicely, fucking wrecked. You were humiliated. How could anyone be okay after something like this? It was bad enough he cheated in the first place but with your best friend? You lost two of your closest people within the blink of an eye. It hurts more that they got each other while you got nothing but ghosts and memories. Scott was there for everything, your first real concert, the after-parties, the carpets. He was there for all of it. And he won’t be there anymore, and that hurts.

You shrug, laughing nervously and rubbing the bridge of your nose in distress, “I just can’t help but think that— that maybe this–” You motion your hands uselessly. Robin quickly interrupts you before you can finish your thought, “No. Do not go there. Are you insane? This,” she motions lazily over your figure, copying you, “was not your fault.” She shakes her head, sincerity laced within her voice and gaze. “Believe me when I say that— I would tell you if you were a crazy bitch, trust.” She smiles and nudges you again with her shoulder, pulling a laugh from you. 

You sigh, rotating your neck to stretch it out, rolling your shoulders, “So, like, what’s up with you?” You ask to lighten the mood, leaning on the bar counter with your elbows. It works because she laughs and nods, looking down at the glasses of whiskey as the bartender wordlessly fills them back up. She traces her finger around the rim of it, still nodding, “I-I’ve been good, you know,” she glances at you and shyly looks away when you begin to smirk, “Just sorta.. Hangin’ out, I guess. Shootin’ the shit,” she shrugs, and you laugh. “Yeah, so when did you guys hook up?” You say over your glass rim innocently, laughing even harder when the girl turns red in the face and sputters over her drink. 

“We did not hook up!” She exclaims, wiping the drink from her lips. “Me and Nance,” she shakes her head, “we just… We, like, hung out, you know?” She shrugged. You mockingly raise an eyebrow as she keeps talking, “And like smoked a bit and maybe drank and then like, there was a movie involved, and then she kissed me and—” You interrupt her rambling with a wave of your hand, “Alright, no more details. You totally hooked up,” you laugh, and she blushes harder, laughing and shaking her head, “Definitely did not.” she scoffs.

“You definitely did.” You challenge.

“Did not.” She shoots back.

“Did.”

She groans and shakes you, “If I pay for your tab, will you shut up?” she offers. You pretend to think dramatically for a moment before giving in and nodding, laughing when she slams a one hundred dollar bill on the counter and gets up, picking her leather jacket from behind her chair. “God, you are so annoying,” she complains, shucking her coat over her Daughters of Vampira band t-shirt. 

You get up, shrugging your leather jacket on and snickering, “Nah, you love me,” you teasingly say, shoving at her shoulder. She smirks and shakes her head, heading for the exit, “Yeah, you wish,” She pushes the door open and steps outside into the chilly Los Angeles night, immediately shoving her hands into her pockets. 

You opt for taking the damaged, smashed pack of cigarettes out of your pocket and pulling a matching lighter out. The lighter has a siren with long, blonde locks and a green, shimmery mermaid tail. You pull out a cigarette and stick it between your lips, igniting the flame and holding it up to the end of the cigarette. You bask in the warmth emanating from the flame, a soft heat kissing your nose. You pull the lighter away and puff, blowing the tobacco back out.

“Man, all I wanted was a peaceful drink, and I got verbally berated instead,” Robin jokes.  You laugh, blowing smoke in her face before stopping, looking ahead. You freeze, and not because of the air; the cogs in your brain start moving, fired up with the fuel of alcohol and the lightheaded buzz of nicotine. You still your movements, looking at your friend, “What did you say?” you ask slowly, pulling your gaze from the busy car-filled street. 

Her face heats up, eyes widening and hands flying from her pockets to raise in defense, “No, I mean, like— I was kidding. I wasn’t being serious—” you interrupt her by waving your hand hastily that was holding a cigarette, before looking at it and tossing it carelessly to the side. You aimlessly shake your hands at her, “No, what did you just say?” You stare into her eyes, watching as she tries to connect the dots. 

She raises her eyebrows in confusion, shrugging before saying slowly, “All I wanted—” You stop her, snapping and pointing, walking away and walking back, obviously pacing. “Yes! Yes— that. It’s perfect.” You stop pacing for a second, standing with your hands on your hips. Robin laughs nervously, fiddling with her zipper jacket, “Uh, what is happening right now? Am I in trouble?” she jokes anxiously, but you ignore her. 

You were thinking. Thinking hard. 

All I wanted. All you wanted? All I wanted. 

You repeat it to her, mumbling the words, gaze still focused on the ground, “All I wanted.” You say, pulling your eyes back up to hers. “Uh.. yeah– All I wanted…was a drink,” she parrots back, nodding dumbly, placating you like a small child doing a math equation. 

You smile mischievously, “Robin, you’re a fucking genius!” You all but shriek, earning some glances from the sidewalk. You pay no attention to them, but Robin does, grabbing your shoulder and pushing you into a walk, looking around her to not draw attention to the both of you, but it’s difficult when you’re wildly smiling and humming out a guitar tempo. 

“Dude, what are you talking about?” She stresses, “Please tell me what’s happening; I have no idea what is socially acceptable to say right now,” she explains nervously, hand moving to grasp at your elbow, keeping you in motion. “Robin, we have to go to the studio right now,” you beg, looking her in her eyes, your gaze shining in inspiration. “What? No, what? Why?” She steps in front of you and halts your walking, “What is happening?” she pleads, leaning forward and pressing her palms together in a praying motion— silently asking you to please elaborate. You move past her, still walking, still thinking. 

Robin jogs to catch up to you, “Tell me what you’re thinking, please,” she begs. You look at her and smirk, “I have an idea for a song,” you conclude. Upon hearing this, Robin smiles like the fucking Cheshire cat.

“Hit me, Tiger.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh when his friend tells him what happened. He pauses for a moment, staring at Scott and waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he never does, and Eddie nearly dies of laughter, the rest of the band along with him.

“Holy shit,” Eddie gasps between laughter. Gareth snorts, raising his eyebrow in shock as he speaks, “She threw your shit out the window?” 

Scott rolls his eyes, flipping the brown-haired boy off, sipping his beer, and leaning back into the red leather couch. Eddie shakes his head as he swivels around in his chair to mess with the studio soundboard, “That’s what you get when you fuck crazy bitches, man,” Eddie laughs, glancing up to watch Jeff mess around with chords in the sound booth. He listens as he speaks, “I mean, sure, she was hot,” He shrugs, reaching over for his box of cigarettes, “Insane tits or whatever, but at what cost?” He snorts. 

Scott shrugs, downing the rest of his beer and tossing the bottle into the small trash bin near the soundboard. 

“I mean, the sex was definitely good, but she just— I dunno, man,” he shakes his head and dismissively waves his hand, “She’s too much of a firecracker. Angie is way more docile,” he concludes. He snickers as he thinks it over, “Easier to deal with,” he smirks, reaching down to the floor to pick up another beer. Gareth snickers and Eddie grimaces with a shake of his head; he then smirks as he slides a cigarette between his lips, “Nah, the firecrackers are the fun ones, man.” he speaks around the paper as he lights the cancerous stick, sucking and blowing out the smoke. “So, what now?” Gareth asks, taking a swig of his drink as he looks at Scott. 

Scott shrugs, opening the glass bottle of beer and sipping it, “Yeah, y’know… no wedding, I’m with Angie, whatever,” he says, and Eddie chuckles, glancing over his shoulder for a moment, “Yeah, I get it,” he nods, taking another drag off his cigarette, lost in his thoughts. You’re a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good… A lightbulb goes off in his head. 

“Wait, guys,” he swivels around in his chair to face Gareth and Scott. The two boys look up at him as Eddie speaks, “We’ve all had crazy girlfriends, right?” His gaze bounces between the boys as he puffs on the cigarette before standing up and pushing the bud of it into Gareth’s bottle, much to his dismay. He ignores Gareth’s complaints, ignoring the boys laughing at him, pacing the room, mind swirling to the sound of Jeff’s guitar. 

Through the fog of chords and lyrics, Eddie continues speaking, “All of our ex-girlfriends— and ex-fiances,” he blindly points to Scott as he paces, ignoring when Scott scoffs, “are crazy bitches,” he points out, looking back at the group. “I mean, I can’t remember the last time I had a normal fucking girlfriend,” he snickers. The boys look at Eddie as if they’re concerned, confusion written across their faces that Eddie could care less to ease, “This is fucking inspiration, boys! Let’s write this shit down,” He leans on the soundboard, “Let’s expose this chick,” He snickers.

He walks into the sound booth and grabs his guitar from the stand, pulling the strap over his neck as he nods toward Jeff, “Keep playing that,” he orders. Despite his masked confusion, Jeff continues to play the riff he’d been tweaking. Eddie steps up to the mic in the middle of the sound booth, reaching for the headphones to slip them over his head, leaving one ear uncovered. He gestures to Gareth through the glass, motioning for him to tag along.

Gareth puts his beer down and walks in, glancing at Eddie in confusion, “You gonna tell us what we’re playing or?” He sits behind his drums as Eddie tweaks the strings on his guitar. “Just follow along, man.” Eddie distractedly mumbles. Gareth and Jeff glance at one another— Eddie often has moments like this, and they have yet to get used to it. Gareth shrugs, picking up his deeply mangled drumsticks and tapping a beat to Jeff’s strings.

Eddie mumbles to himself, fingers ghosting chords over the frets as he nods his head to the beat. He picks up with Gareth and Jeff’s sound, shredding along to create a fuller sound, the images of the music he’d composed in his mind coming to life just below his fingertips. Scott watches from outside the sound booth, standing up to lean over the soundboard. He watches, intrigued, as they play together, wordlessly tweaking until they all compliment each other. Scott reaches over with a smirk and hits the record button just in time for Eddie to chime in on the mic, finally spitting out the lyrics they’d all be waiting to hear.

And it’s fucking good. 

“Alllriiight!”

It’s raunchy, unhinged, and all things dirty. On top of that, it’s a massive fuck you to Scott’s ex, and Scott can’t keep the grin off his face as he adds the bass to the track, snickering at the words Eddie sings. They work on the song all day, throwing in new verses and tweaks until they feel satisfied for the time being. They sit outside the sound booth and nurse a round of beers as they play the song, listening to what they have so far, grinning and nodding along to the beat, laughing at the absurdity of the lyrics.

“Hey, you’re a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good, I’m on top of it.”

“It’s good… as much as I hate to say it, it’s good.” Scott laughs, rolling his eyes when the boys cheer. Sitting on the swivel chair in front of the soundboard, Eddie reaches out and nudges Scott's foot with his own, “You might get a few slashed tires when she hears this, you know.” He snickers over the rim of his beer bottle.

Scott laughs and shrugs, “Can’t be any worse than what she’s already done.” He jokes. The boys all laugh, watching Jeff as he raises his beer in the gesture of a toast, “To crazy bitches.” The boys all raise their beers in unity, parroting back, “To crazy bitches!” They clink their drinks and laugh, taking sips.

“You’re crazy, but I like the way you fuck me.”

“Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there,

I’ll beg you nice from my knees.

And when the world treats you way too fairly,

Well, it’s a shame, I’m a dream,”

Your voice filters through the speakers, thick studio headphones skewed on your head as you fiddle with the soundboard knobs and buttons. You sigh and push the headphones to rest around your neck, rubbing your hands tiredly over your face. You take a glance at the clock— 4:34 AM. Goddamn. You had truly been here all night. After your night out with Robin, drinking your feelings away, and your quick epiphany moment, you guys caught a taxi straight here and got to business. That was at 10:46 PM. 

Poor Robin, you put the girl through the wringer. Making her drum out new beats, forcing her to pluck out a bass riff to the best of her abilities. The rest of your band was, without a doubt, asleep, and you didn’t want to bother them with your antics. And, of course, you all were close, but it was just different with you and Robin. You guys could be together for hours and never tire of one another. You just clicked. 

Maybe it was also the fact that you didn’t want to face whatever awkward encounter was bound to happen between Robin and Nancy, opting to wait until the morning to see them face one another. Robin was fully asleep underneath the sound booth, using both of your jackets as a pillow. Her fingers are wrapped around the beer she’d been drinking; hand cuddled up to her face. You pull out your cigarettes from your pocket, pulling one stick out and sliding it between your lips. You light it up and puff on the cigarette, glancing at Robin beneath the table before reaching down and carefully snagging her beer. You take a quick swig, quietly listening to the song. 

“All I wanted was you,

All I wanted was you.”

The guitar that comes in right after is powerful. It’s beautiful; it showcases your anger, your betrayal, your heart that still aches. This was supposed to be a love song for Scott, but after tweaking a few lyrics, it quickly became a song laced with hatred and resentment— a piece of heartbreak and anguish you’re still clearly sorting through. But that’s all that love is, right? Just two people fighting and slashing at each other until one inevitably gives in and waves a white flag? 

You down the rest of your stolen beer, still taking drags of the cigarette and blowing it back out. It wasn’t unusual for you to be the only one here at ungodly hours of the night, but it was one of the first times you were here with your friend and bandmate. Knowing she was here for you after such a chaotic, hectic day, supporting you even at unreasonable hours, was nice.

You replay the lyrics repeatedly, playing with the weak bass Robin was barely able to play. You should go home; you know you should, given how late it is and the dryness that begins to seep through your eyes, but you hate the feeling that runs through your bones when you think about what used to be your and Scott’s home. You don’t want to go home. Home is where everything ended. Home is no longer home— not after what happened. Home is where you’ll go to relieve the day over and over again until you get tired enough to pass out. 

And then it hits you; lyrics, more heartache hits you. The song was initially titled The Only Exception, but the words changed after playing around for several hours. You stuff the cigarette bud in the beer bottle, letting it fizzle out as you get up from your swivel chair to try and find a notebook— a notepad, napkins, or something, but you only find a pen. Frustrated with your lack of writing materials, you look at your surroundings hungrily before your eyes land on Robin’s bare arm. 

You pace back to the soundboard and reach underneath to yank on Robin’s arm, waking her up for a split second. You ignore Robin’s grumbly and slurred “What the fuck?” and proceed with your task as she inevitably falls back asleep. You yank the pen cap off with your teeth and begin jotting down lyrics on Robin’s pale, freckled, tattooed arm. 

“I think I’ll pace my apartment a few times,

And fall asleep on the couch. 

Wake up early to black-and-white reruns,

That escape from my mouth.”

Scott and your favorite thing to do was watch old 1950s classic films. You guys watched them so much, watched so many of them, over and over again, that you could quote them to one another. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you write these lyrics down, some falling on Robin’s arm and smudging the ink. You curse and press your palm to the running ink to dry whatever can be salvaged from your sloppy work. You drop her arm to the ground and hear her briefly groan as you pace back into the sound booth, picking up your black guitar from the stand and pulling the strap over your upper body. 

You move your headphones around your neck to sit over your ears, waiting for your next move. You start strumming out a guitar riff, basking in the glory of the echoing sounds and its full, tough ring. You push your lips to the microphone and begin mumbling, playing with more lyrics in your head before you sing.

“I could follow you to the beginning,

Just to relive the start.

And maybe then, we’d remember to slow down.

At all of our favorite parts.”

The tears are freefalling now; the dark eyeliner you’d spent the past hours smudging leaves roads of sorrow against your skin. You and Scott were together for seven magical months. Yeah, it was quick— pathetic in a different light, but you’d been mindlessly in love. And fuck, would it have been a mistake if you did end up marrying him. He was a production assistant and a bassist with no new lines of work coming, opting to freeload off his friend’s band, Corroded Coffin, playing with them at shows whenever they needed him. 

And it’s working for him so far— until it doesn’t. As much as you hate to admit, Scott is talented. He’s good with his instrument and has a good ear for sound, but despite his talent, he has no real drive— no actual want to succeed and be at the top of the music pyramid with you. As you continue to play with the guitar, you stop for a second to wipe your eyes, thoroughly smudging your makeup now and probably making you look insane. 

Scott had good moments, though. When it was good, it was good— spontaneous nights out, making out in alleyways like lovesick teenagers, and every second feeling like a movie until the credits rolled— but when it was bad, it was really fucking bad. Fights, stupid arguments, bickering, breaking expensive items, and threatening to leave each other until he makes it up to you with mediocre sex and breakfast in bed the next day. You loved him, you did, and you believe he loved you too, but you just can’t pinpoint where it all went wrong. 

You stop strumming the guitar and huff waterily, setting the guitar back on the stand and ripping your headphones off your head before tossing them to the ground. You sit on a metal, foldable chair beside you and lean forward to push your head into your hands. 

You really blew the fuck up on him. Did you overreact? Did you honestly act like a crazy bitch? Fuck, maybe you should apologize. 

You can hear Robin in the back of your head, nagging and begging you to stop thinking self-destructive thoughts like this, telling you you’re insane for even thinking of apologizing, but you just can’t help it. You venture down the deep, dark, but welcoming rabbit hole of psycho-analyzing every romantic relationship you’ve ever had. None of your relationships have lasted— the ones in high school, obviously, but you’ve been out of that shit hole for years now, yet you’re still playing the never-ending game of kiss and tell.

Life in Hawkins was a weird, dull one. All the boys you brought home never shared the same interests as you and certainly did not like that you had a mind of your own. They didn’t like the clothes you wore, or the makeup you did, or the music you listened to. They thought you and the rest of the band were stupid and wasting your lives trying to be something big with the weird sound you carried. Nothing about you or the people you hung out with fit the cookie-cutter shape of Hawkins, and you learned that the hard way. 

You were more of a dirty secret for boys in your school. Nobody wanted to express their love or attraction to you openly, but they sure as hell did so behind closed doors. Your first boyfriend, Brady, was a star on the wrestling team; he didn’t mind showing you off much because nobody had the guts to talk shit about him— too scared to get sucker punched. Brady lasted a few months before you eventually cut ties with each other. 

There were a few others after Brady, all meeting the same dead end you’re so familiar with. Although there was one guy— Eddie Munson— people believed you would be perfect for each other. You liked the same music, dressed relatively the same, and had shitty high school bands nobody wanted to listen to. Logistically, it was a perfect match; the only problem was Eddie Munson is an asshole. 

Scum of the earth, piece of shit, grade-A asshole.

Scott was friends with him, and on occasion, you would sometimes cross paths at parties or hangouts with mutual friends; and every single run-in you’ve had with the man left you with a splitting migraine and an itching impulse to smash his head through a window. He’s awful; he doesn’t respect you or any woman for that matter, he acts like he’s a living god, and he and his shitty band won (stole) that fucking music contest in Hawkins back in ‘87, and you’ll never forget it. That’s how you met him, and your guys’ race to the top hasn’t let up since.

And now that you think of it, it’s not surprising that Eddie and Scott get along so well— they’re both sexist assholes. 

You’re milling in your thoughts for what seems like hours, tears dried and itching against your skin. You’re not sure how long you sit in the sound booth, but before you know it, Robin’s hoarse voice is cracking through the speakers of the sound booth, “As much as I think you’re a musical genius and love the way you work in mysterious ways, it’s extremely late, and we both need to catch some sleep before tomorrow.”

Your face twists in confusion, “Tomorrow? What’s special about tomorrow?” You ask, your voice cracking. Robin shifts on her feet, brows furrowing at your confusion, “We’re meeting with the record label. Remember we’re playing them our new album?”

Fuck. You completely forgot about that, and all of those songs, except for maybe three, are based around your stupid ex-fiance that just dumped you for your best friend. You sigh, dropping your head in your hands and running your palms over your face. You let out a long groan into your hands, not even hearing Robin opening the door to the sound booth and walking up to you. Her chilled fingers wrap around your wrists to pull your hands away from your face. Her blue eyes are tired and full of love and warmth as she squats before you to gaze at you, “Talk to me.”

Tears brim your eyes at her soft voice, and you wince— you really wish you could stop fucking crying. You rub at your teary eyes and shake your head, “It’s just—” you sigh and blearily blink down at Robin, “they’re all about him, Rob.” You frown.

Robin patiently waits for you to find the words, comfortingly squeezing your tear-dampened fingers. “Every song on the album is about him and I… I really don’t wanna spend an entire tour singing about him.” You softly speak, avoiding her gaze.

The brown-haired girl shuffles closer to you, ducking into your gaze and shrugging, “That’s okay,” she shakes her head, “We can scrap it. I mean, the label might be a little pissed, but just… play them what we did tonight, and I guarantee you they’ll extend our time.”

You furrow your brows and shake your head, “What? No. Robin, the song’s not finished—” “We don’t get another chance with this, Tiger. We either play them what we did tonight or give them the album.”

And you know Robin is right; she does not want to give you an ultimatum, but it’s the inevitable truth. You can either play the song and hope it’s the best thing the label has ever heard, or you suck it up and play them the album full of bittersweet words that leave a sticky residue clogging your throat.

You look at Robin, her patient and tired gaze locked on your face. You chew on the inside of your cheek, thinking it over for a moment— and it could work. The new song you’d just recorded is insane— nothing you’ve ever done before and, without a doubt, has a groundbreaking sound. It could work.

Max and Nancy are going to kill you tomorrow.

You nod your head, “Okay,” you breathe. Robin’s lips slowly stretch into a smile, “I’m gonna play it for them.” You nod. Robin shoots up to her feet with a cheer.

“Perfect! Now wipe those tears, and let's get the fuck out of here.”

You and Robin look like hell. You’re sporting heavy undereye bags with dark circles, while Robin opted to cover her evident lack of sleep with a pair of dark shades. Nancy and Max look concerned when they see you both sitting in the lobby of your label’s building. Nancy, of course, chastised you for your lateness while Max just snickered in the corner. Max suddenly makes a face as she speaks, “Why do you guys look like you’ve been hit by a bus?”

Robin tiredly groans, shifting in her seat with a yawn, “Stayed at the studio late.” She mumbles. Nancy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Why? I thought we had everything ready for today.” She points out, obviously concerned. Nothing would ever get done if you didn’t have Nancy in the band. Now that you look at her, she has a manila folder in her hands, most likely stuffed with questions, comments, concerns, budgets, and more. She was more like Erica’s assistant than your bass player. But fuck, could her skilled fingers pluck out a riff.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, glancing over at Robin, who seems to be now passed out behind her glasses, offering you no help. You scoff. Of course. You mentally punch Robin in the face. You fidget with the rings on your fingers as you begin to explain. “So, basically,” you start, “I came home yesterday and found Scott and Angie fucking in my bed, so I threw their shit out the window and then called Robin,” you barely pay attention to Nancy and Max’s widening eyes as you spew out the events of yesterday. You knew they already knew, probably from Erica or the fucking tabloids. Hell, the whole fucking world knew, but they acted like this was their first time hearing about it. 

You ramble on about the events, telling them about you finding inspiration and dragging Robin to the studio, drunk, only to decide to scrap the album you’d all been working on for the past few months. 

That last bit of information didn’t go so well, however. 

“You what?”

You wince at Max’s sneering tone, glancing at Nancy to try and get a read on her expressionless face. “Please tell me you’re joking,” Max says, voice teetering on the precipice of panic. You wish Robin would wake the fuck up. “I… I know I’m really taking a leap of faith here, but I need you guys to trust me on this,” you plead, gaze hopefully bouncing between the two women, “Please.”

Max folds her arms across her chest, tongue rolling against the inside of her cheek before she shakes her head, “I swear if this fucks us over, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.” She breaks, and you’re just thankful she agrees to follow your and Robin’s plan. She turns around and walks over to plop into the seat on the other side of the lobby, glancing at you before speaking, “Sorry about Scott, by the way…” she mumbles. “Maybe it’s a good thing; I never liked all those love songs anyways…” She smiles apologetically, and you huff out a chuckle.

Nancy nudges her foot against your leather boot, “You were out of his league anyway. He was dumber than a rock.” She adds to Max’s apology. You snicker and thank them for their condolences. Nancy sits on the chair next to Max and sighs heavily, “Did you tell Erica about the change?” she asks, already flipping through her folder. You pretended you didn’t hear the question, which was not a good idea. 

The two girls begin to panic at your eerie silence. Nancy’s face falls, and Robin fucking snores, “You did tell Erica, right?” She presses. Your silence says enough.

Max groans, leaning forward to sink her head into the palm of her hands, “We’re so fucked.”

And when the time comes, you’re not exactly sure what the label is thinking. All the board members wear the same unwavering expression as they listen to All I Wanted. You glance at Nancy and Max, who are both visibly shaken with nerves; Max’s leg bouncing at an ungodly rate beneath the table, and Nancy’s poor fingers picked to shreds. Robin, who’s now awake, is busying herself with doodling random sketches on the napkin in front of her, and you’re— well, you’re hardly breathing. 

Erica looks thoroughly pissed; you don’t doubt she’d thought about strangling you the second you announced you were scraping the album. You could tell she was itching to make some phone calls as her stone-hard gaze stayed on you throughout the whole listening session. You pretended you didn’t notice her.

When the demo ends, a thick silence settles over the room, and you lean forward, pressing pause on the track to prevent the CD from repeating. You awkwardly scratch the side of your neck, “I-It’s not done; I’m still working on it, but um—” You glance at the table of faces and gulp. You haven’t been this nervous in longer than you can remember. “I know it can be something. Something big.”

James, the CEO of the record label, clears his throat and leans forward, pressing his elbows onto the thick wooden table. A burning cigarette hangs between his fingers as he points to the middle of the table where the CD player sits, “This is about Scott, yes?”

All eyes are on you, and you have no choice but to nod yes. James takes a drag of his cigarette, eyebrows furrowing as he silently thinks. You glance at your friends, a wave of nerves washing through your body at the anticipation. “What happened yesterday can never happen again. You almost ruined your image. Almost.” He finally speaks, his stern gaze locked in on you. You almost want to shrink in your seat, feeling like a child being scolded in the principal's office as he continues to speak. “You're a good talent, but if you don't know how to act like a grown woman, you won’t have a place here.” 

You scoff and open your mouth, a smart response on the tip of your tongue, until Robin harshly kicks the heel of her leather boot into your ankle. You hiss in pain, sucking on your teeth to poorly conceal it. You relent and nod your head, “I understand.”

James nods and flicks the ashes of his cigarette into the ashtray beside him, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, “Now,” his lips split into a smug grin, a grin that tells you that you won, “Get this track finished by the end of the week. I want it on air by Monday morning.”

Monday morning, Eddie is hauling ass down I-405, without a doubt breaking many traffic laws he could care less about, given he’s late to his studio session with the band. When is he not late? He’s got a cigarette hanging from his lips and the smell of last night's alcohol on his clothes. As he meticulously swerves and weaves in and out of LA traffic, he jams his finger to turn his radio on, flipping through static, noise, ads, shitty pop music, and landing on a seemingly decent Rock station. 

He takes his cigarette out of his mouth and puffs the rest before tossing it out of the open window. His hair tousles from the wind, and he bats the curly strands away whenever they fly into his view. His ringed fingers grip the steering wheel, swerving out of the way of a truck before honking and throwing up a middle finger. What he misses during that exchange is the introduction of the song.

“Next up is a new hit single named All I Wanted by Daughters of Vampira! Daughters of Vampira will be going on tour soon; stay tuned for details!”

Then, the music starts when he finally starts to slow down after narrowly missing the truck.

“Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there,

I’ll beg you nice from my knees.

And when the world treats you way too fairly,

Well, it’s a shame, I’m a dream.”

Your voice filters through his car stereo, unbeknownst to Eddie, and he glances down at his music console. He slowly turns the volume dial up, intrigued by the sound and wanting to know where it’s leading. When the ferocious guitar shred comes in, his face twists in approval, turning the volume even louder as he bobs his head to the tune. Whoever’s band this was, is fucking good. It’s not every day you hear a good Rock song sung by a woman, he thinks.

“All I wanted was you, oh,

All I wanted was you, oh!”

Eddie’s not sure why it takes him so long to realize the voice playing through his speakers is none other than the lead singer of that stupid fucking feminazi band Daughters of Vampira. He nearly chokes when he realizes it’s your voice, turning the volume up to max and listening to the words.

It’s… sad. The lyrics are like the gut-wrenching heartbreak you see in movies, aching and drenched with the grief of a love that was supposed to be great. And your voice is so fucking raw, so angry, and filled with pain that it brings Eddie to a stand-still, the skin on his arms raising in tiny bumps at the sheer emotion. Eddie almost forgets he’s in his car until he hears the car behind him honking, the man behind the wheel yelling at him to go now that the traffic light has turned green. He doesn’t move an inch, afraid he’ll miss a beat of this slice of heartache.

The song ends, and Eddie turns off his radio, choosing to spend the rest of his ride in silence as the gnawing feeling of guilt settles in his gut. By the sound of it, Scott really did a fucking number on you— tore your heart out, chewed it up, spit it out, and stepped on it like a spider on a sidewalk— and Eddie knows what that feels like; he’s had his heart broken before so he knows what it feels like to be so angry at the love you had for a person. It’s a shitty feeling.

So, Eddie’s not sure why he decides to be an asshole and tell the boys about your new song, but he does. The second he enters the studio, he tells Gareth to turn on the radio.

“...Why?” Gareth questions with a tone of suspicion. Eddie brushes his question off and walks to lean over the desk, turning the radio on and beginning to switch through the stations. “Uh, Eddie… we’ve got some work to do, man, we don’t have time for—” “Shh, just give me a second,” Eddie snaps. 

“It’s gotta be playing somewhere.” Eddie mumbles, eyebrows furrowed, ringed finger going overtime on the dial, abruptly stopping when he finally hears it. “This is it! This is it; just listen.” Eddie turns the volume up and stands up to his full height, hands on his hips, and chews on his lip as they silently listen to the song.

Jeff is the first to speak through the sound of drums and intense chords, “Why are we listening to this?” Eddie waves him off, telling him just to wait— just wait until the verse.

“I think I’ll pace my apartment a few times,

And fall asleep on the couch. 

Wake up early to black-and-white reruns,

That escape from my mouth.”

Scott’s eyes widen, striding over to Eddie’s side and gazing at the boombox in shock, “No fuckin’ way.” He breathes. Eddie looks at Scott as he reaches over to increase the volume. Gareth twirls his drumstick between his knuckles and deeply sighs as he leans back in his chair and kicks his feet up onto the soundboard, “Dude, no offense, but why are we listening to this shit?” He asks. Scott turns to the boys and points back to the radio, “That’s my fucking bitch ex singing about me.”

Jeff and Gareth’s eyes widen, both boys leaning forward in their seats to listen to the lyrics. Scott curses and reaches over to shut the radio off, letting a thick silence fall over the room. Jeff is the first to break and nervously laugh, and Eddie grins, Gareth falling into a fit of laughter behind Jeff’s. “Why the fuck are you guys laughing?” Scott sneers.

Eddie chuckles, reaching out to rest his hands on Scott’s shoulders and turn him to face each other, “You don’t get it, man,” Eddie begins. Scott’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and Eddie smiles mischievously, “This is the perfect time to drop Crazy Bitch.”

You nearly blow a gasket when you first hear Corroded Coffin’s new song. Nancy did quite a good job of bringing you down to somewhat of a levelheaded state and getting you to understand that killing Scott or slashing his tires wouldn’t be the wisest of decisions to make. You still aren’t convinced.

You try your best to ignore the song, switching the radio to a different station whenever it plays, but it seems like that fucking track follows you wherever you go. A week after the song's release, you’re walking down the street with Robin, browsing the stores that catch your eye and chatting about whatever comes to mind.

You hardly notice the crowd gathered outside the store you are in until Robin points it out, nudging your side and nodding towards the window, “Looks like we’ve got company today.” she mumbles. You curse, shelving the shirt you’d been looking at as you grumble to Robin, “Seriously, how the fuck did they find us?”

You suppose the rest of your day out won’t last much longer, so you and Robin decide to make your way home, stepping out into the crowd and shoving through a sea of flashing bulbs. 

Over time, you’ve mustered up the strength to ignore the questions paparazzi throw at you; questions about who you’re dating, your sexuality, your political beliefs— questions of generally no substance or anything to do with your music. You’ve become numb to the reality of your life being plastered on tabloids and riddled with lies; it doesn’t really hurt you anymore. 

However, you’re still a human being, and you have moments where you crack, and today seems to be one of those moments when a man yells out, “You were seen dumping your ex-fiance Scott's items into the street! So is the song true? Did you and Eddie Munson have an affair? Is that why you and Scott broke up?” 

Robin tenses, glancing at you and silently pleading for you to just keep walking. Ignore, ignore, ignore.

You glare but smile at the man, flashing your white, shark-like teeth, “If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you ask Scott and Angie yourself?” You sneer. 

A few of the men snicker, one whistling and commenting about you being feisty, but you ignore it and continue as you and Robin finally reach your car, “And for the record, I wouldn’t touch that asshole with a ten-inch pole. His dick is small.” You grin sarcastically, opening your car door and getting in without another word. You hear the crowd erupt in more questions outside your car, some scribbling stuff down on their notepads and some laughing.

You groan in annoyance, buckling yourself in and starting the car as Robin settles in the passenger seat. You don’t miss the chance to flip the mob of men off when you drive off, leaving them behind with screeching tires. It’s silent until Robin chuckles, and you glance at her, “What’s so funny?”

Robin shrugs and shakes her head, “Nothing,” she says, “Just that Erica’s gonna murder you.” You roll your eyes and slide a pair of shades on. “When is she not wanting to murder me?” 

The media erupted after your comment about womanizer and rockstar Eddie Munson. Many fans came to your aid, voicing the truth of the breakup and defending you and your band. In contrast, many other fans— Corroded Coffin’s cult of assholes— came to Eddie’s defense, stating that he was only doing charity work to get your name in the papers. That you were fucking your way to the top of the music industry and much, much more deeply misogynistic statements. 

You didn’t care for any of it. You, your friends, your family, and your band knew what actually happened. The best part is that Scott knew the truth, and he was a shit fucking liar. He couldn’t cover up what happened if his life depended on it. It made you think of how he could lie about the affair for as long as he did. You don’t dwell on that thought for too long, growing tired of digging deeper into the pit of despair Scott had so happily tossed you into.

At the end of the day, your image is in shambles, and if your image is fucked, then so is the bands. Daughters of Vampira wasn’t booking anything; shows, meet-and-greets, autograph signings— nothing. Even though All I Wanted was an enormous hit and ended up in the charts, people couldn’t get over the fact that you, the lead singer, tend to be explosive. You would’ve felt bad about this if Eddie’s image hadn’t suffered the same fate. 

Eddie and his band immediately stopped booking shows after their song Crazy Bitch. Of course, it was a big success, but only because the drama fueled it. Young women stopped throwing themselves at the band and instead opted for screaming, “Woman haters!” and “Sexist pigs!” at them whenever they were out. It had been fucking rough, and it only got worse after Eddie commented to the paparazzi while he was out on a coffee run in the streets of Los Angeles.

“How the fuck do they always find me?” Eddie grumbles to himself, putting on a fake smile for the group.

Eddie was rocking a pair of shades, thinking of ways to quickly escape the mob, when a young boy approached him from the crowd. He had a Corroded Coffin shirt on with a photograph of Eddie clenched to his chest as he kindly asked for an autograph. 

“Sure, kid,” Eddie crouches down to the boy’s height and gently takes the photograph and Sharpie, "who am I signing it for?” He smiles softly at the boy, “For Thomas, sir!” The boy politely says, his eyes shining in excitement. “Thomas, sick name, man.” Eddie compliments, yanking the cap off with his teeth. He signs his name with a Let’s fuckin’ ROCK! in the corner, putting the lid back and handing the photo back to the boy. 

He smiles when the boy squeals in excitement and offers him a fist bump before standing up to his full height. “Thank you, Mr. Munson!” Eddie snickers and nods, “‘Course, but hey, don’t call me Munson; call me Ed,” He smirks, and the kid laughs. “Mr. Muns– Ed, I have a question for you,” the kid shyly asks. 

Eddie’s heart implodes at the cuteness of this little shithead and chuckles as he responds, “Shoot, kid, I’m all ears,” Eddie ignores the flashes from the cameras, taking photos of this pure and innocent moment. He ignores the coos from the women, from the kid’s parents, all of it, just zoned in on this small child meeting his hero. Him.

“Ed, is it true that you hate girls?”

And just like that, the moment is over.

Eddie turns red in the face and forces a harsh but nervous laugh. The crowd closes in upon hearing the exchange and begins asking a multitude of questions. The parents snag their son away and start expressing profuse apologies that Eddie waves off. “Nah, nah, the kid’s fine. But uh, to answer your question, no, that isn’t true, Tommy boy,” he says, looking at the child standing beside his mother’s legs. He takes out a pack of smokes and opens it, sliding a cigarette between his lips as he adds, “I am a really big fan of girls,” he flashes a dazzling smile around the stick and does finger guns at the small kid before he turns and begins to walk away. 

He’s forgotten all about his coffee, and now all he wants is to get the fuck outta there. 

He lights the cigarette up and ignores the crowd of paparazzi following him, cameras still in motion. He rolls his eyes, body buzzing in annoyance from the kid's question and the crowd. He continues walking the street as more questions and fans approach him. As Eddie signs a woman’s photograph, a cigarette hanging from his lips, an interviewer comments with a camera already zoned in and recording Eddie’s face. No doubt this will be on MTV tonight. No doubt he won’t hear the end of it from Dustin and Steve.

“Eddie, did you hear what the frontwoman of Daughters of Vampira has said about you? Can we get a response?” He shoves the mic into Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s lips break into a grin, but he doesn’t look up from the autograph he’s signing. “Yeah… yeah, I heard, and y’know what? She can come find out herself if it’s small or not,” He looks up and smirks right at the camera, “Have a nice day.” He smiles tightly at the interviewer and hastily flags down a taxi, hopping in and yelling at the driver to step on it. He watches as the crowd grows smaller and smaller with distance, his heart thundering in his chest. He takes deep breaths to slow his pulse down, to stop thinking of you. 

It never seems to slow as his mind can’t move on from you or that damn song.

Both the managers of Corroded Coffin and Daughters of Vampira are pushed to the limit with you and Eddie. Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington are co-managers of Corroded Coffin, mainly because Steve has the money and Dustin has the brains to man the operation. All Steve really does is cut the checks and warn the team when to cut back on the extracurriculars. 

Erica, Steve, and Dustin are all from Hawkins and are quite familiar with each other due to living in a small town where everyone knows everybody. They, along with all members of Corroded Coffin and Daughters of Vampira, all sort of grew up with one another in the 80s and have always been on this whimsical journey together. As the years went by, you all drifted, more so because of the competition, but aside from the band, the managers stayed relatively civil with one another. Erica, Steve, and Dustin stayed in touch because sometimes they couldn’t handle the two bands, which is why Erica summoned the two boys to a bar in downtown LA.

Erica Sinclair is seemingly always tested by you and has no idea where to go or what her next move should be. She has times when she feels like a single mother dealing with an angsty teen, and when those moments teeter on disastrous, she makes calls— the call.

“I mean, I have just had it up to here,” Erica moves her hand up in the air to emphasize her annoyance, “with these girls, I mean, my god!” She shakes her head as she sips her red wine, the two boys nodding from across from her. “Trust me,” Steve scoffs, “we get it.” 

Dustin nods, taking a sip of his Shirley Temple and smacking his lips before adding, “We’re in the same boat too— with Eddie,” Dustin starts, drinking his Shirley Temple out of a bendy straw. 

“Yeah, he’s always been a pain in the ass, ever since high school,” Steve continues, sharing a look with Dustin, who tiredly nods, “But it has never been this bad. Normally we can get a hold on him running his mouth, but it’s just been…” Steve falters and trails off, struggling to grasp the words to explain Eddie’s childlike behavior. Erica nods, “I know what you mean,” She makes a face and holds her wine glass out to cheer with them. Dustin clinks his Shirley Temple, and Steve clinks his beer, them all taking a sip.

“Both band’s images are terrible. It won’t be long till we’re losing more money,” Steve grumbles, taking another swig of his beer. “I think we should just lock them all in a room together till they get along,” Erica jokes, earning a chortle from Steve and a cackle from Dustin. They all sigh in unison, a comfortable silence falling over them. 

Suddenly, Dustin sits up straight, aggressively snapping his fingers before pointing to Erica.

Steve jumps and makes a face at Dustin, grumbling about how annoying Dustin’s theatrics are. Erica rolls her eyes, already used to the boy’s antics. “Well? Are you gonna tell us about your nerdy little lightbulb moment or keep making a scene?” She sneers over her wine glass rim, taking a sip. Dustin looks back from Steve’s annoyed face to Erica’s tired one, basking in the dramatics.

“Why don’t we do just that?” He finally says.

Steve and Erica share a look. Typically, Dustin has these moments, and Steve and Erica have to entertain them, but Erica thinks Henderson might be onto something. Steve scoffs and leans back in his chair, “I doubt they’d last a week locked in a house before one kills the other.” Steve mumbles, clearly missing Dustin’s case in point.

Erica, however, knows just where Dustin’s mind has gone— to the motherland of brilliant-fucking-idea. Erica puts her glass down and leans her elbows on the table, resting her chin on the backs of her folded hands. “When you say just that, you mean…?” She looks at the boy quizzically, praying he means what she thinks he means. Steve puts his hand on the back of Dustin’s chair and leans forward, “I’m not really picking up on this guys,” He uses his other hand to lazily gesture. Dustin ignores Steve and nods slowly, “Oh hell yeah, I mean that.” He says, smirking mischievously. Erica and Dustin share a grin, a playful gleam in their eyes. Steve groans on the side in annoyance.

“Let’s book a fuckin’ tour bus, boys,” Erica concludes, and Dustin erupts in cheers, the two of them clinking their drinks. Steve finally understands, and his eyes widen, “Oh! Holy shit, that’s fucking genius.”

Erica laughs and finishes off the last of her wine. “Tiger is gonna kill me.” She smirks and shakes her head, sighing. Dustin and Steve share a look and chuckle a little bit, “Her reaction won’t be as bad as Munson’s. He’s gonna fuckin’ lose it.” Dustin says, slurping on his straw.

A few weeks pass before Erica, Steve, and Dustin manage to rally both bands in a conference room. The tension in the room is almost unbearable. For the most part, the band members seem more interested in knowing why they’ve been summoned together— the real tension is at the end of the table, where you and Eddie sit across from each other. Eddie wears a snickering grin to go along with his darkened shades, and you— well, if looks could kill, everybody in this room would be six feet under and crossing into the afterlife. 

You’re pissed. Annoyed that you’re being forced to breathe the same air as that fuckface Eddie Munson, and Eddie could not be more pleased with himself. Eddie gazes at each of the girls across from him; Max, who’s glaring at your managers and bouncing her knee in evident impatience, Nancy, who couldn’t look more uninterested if she tried; and Robin, who seems more intrigued with the wood paneling of the wall to look at anything else. He makes the mistake of looking at you, earning him a nicely silver-wrapped middle finger which he winks at.

“If you two are done acting like children down there, we’d like to get this meeting started,” Erica announces from her seat at the head of the table. All eyes turn to her, and she sarcastically smiles, opening her mouth to begin speaking until you cut her off, “Whatever fucking bullshit you three have planned, I won’t be a part of it. Not with this asshole.” You gesture to the curly-haired boy across from you.

Gareth and Jeff snicker, and you glare at them, ignoring Robin’s elbow jabbing into your side. “It’s funny that you think you have a choice, Tiger,” Erica says, tilting her head with a grin. You begin to bounce your leg impatiently, jaw clenching as the ticking time bomb in your mind begins to speed up. 

Dustin clears his throat and stands up, gathering everyone's attention as he clasps his hands. “Let’s cut straight to the chase,” he begins, “Your music careers are fucked.”

Jeff breathily laughs to the side, and Erica glares at him, quickly diminishing his obvious amusement. “Somehow, the seven of you have managed to obliterate your band's image in less than a month,” Dustin points out, picking up a stack of magazines before him and walking calmly about the room. He tosses a magazine out into the middle of the table, “Misogynists,” another magazine, “Anti-feminist,” another magazine, “Chauvinists,” another magazine— the final one, “Woman-haters.”

You all look at the magazines silently until you mumble, “Sounds about right,” causing Eddie to scoff and roll his eyes beneath his shades. “What? You’re mad the media is finally realizing how full of shit you all are?” You prod with a tilt of your head. “At least nobody’s saying I should be sent to a fucking ward.”

Your eyes narrow, and you begin to form a response, but Erica rises from her seat loudly, startling the room as her loud voice booms through the space, “The media is tearing both of you to shreds,” she leans forward to press her palms against the cool wooden table, heated gaze darting between you and Eddie.

“Both of your bands aren’t booking gigs, and you're losing money faster than you earn it,” she points out, watching as you all cower from the truth. She waves a manicured finger between both sides of the table, “This stupid little fucking back and forth you’ve created either ends here or on the road.”

Robin’s face twists in confusion, a raspy voice speaking up for the first time, “On the road?”

Steve turns to her and grins, “Yes. On the road. Together.”

Gareth leans forward in his chair, confused as he speaks, “What, like a retreat type deal?” He questions. Dustin slaps a paper down in front of him, “No. Tour. Nine months, ninety-two shows.”

Gareth doesn’t get much time to take in the information on the paper before Eddie snatches it out of his hands, shades pushed up into his hair as he leans in to gape at it. A list of tour dates, an ongoing and never-ending fucking list.

“You’re not serious.” He says. Steve chuckles at the end of the table, nodding his head, “As serious as a heart attack.”

You’re next to snatch the paper away for a gander, ignoring the rest of the room as everyone erupts in a fit of protest. You stand with your back to the table as you gaze through each date, your neck heating up with anger as your fingers crease the paper. You turn around, face twisted in rage, wrinkling the paper in your shaking fist as you storm up to where Erica stands, waiting for you to say your piece with an unwavering impression.

You hold the crinkled paper up as you stand before her, “You’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m doing shows with these pieces of shits.” You sneer, tossing the paper onto the table. Erica raises an eyebrow, looking at you as if you’ve gone off the deep end. The room enters a thick silence at your outburst, all eyes on the standoff between you and Erica. “Call the tour off, or I’m out.”

“What?” Robin leans forward to gaze at you, eyes widened in shock at your words, “You’re not leaving the band, Y/N, you— you can’t.”

You ignore Robin and step closer to Erica, eyes burning into her gaze as you speak, and Erica has never seen you this angry in all her years of knowing you. “Call it off.”

Erica will let you believe you have the upper hand for your peace of mind, but when it comes down to reality, you both know you don’t stand a chance against her force of nature. Erica is calm and uncannily patient as she speaks to you, “You’re at a dead-end street, Tiger,” she starts, “You either make a way, or you go back to Hawkins with your tail between your legs like everyone expected.” 

Erica sits back in her chair, not even bothering to look at you as she busies herself with the paperwork before her when she adds, “You make the call.”

You glare down at her, throat closing in anger and betrayal. You don’t say another word as you storm out, leaving the room with a booming echo of the heavy glass door slamming shut. Erica sighs, settling back in her chair and gazing at the rest of the band members, who are all silently fuming in anger. “Now, does anyone else have something to say or something of substance to add, or are we done here?” Eddie rises from his seat with clear annoyance, “This is bullshit,” the force of his movement sends his chair back to the wall as he walks out of the room, just as angrily as you had previously done.

The remaining band members sit in silence, avoiding each other's gaze, and Steve breathily laughs, “Well, Dustin, you were wrong,” he teases, smirking when Dustin and Erica turn to him. “Eddie took that pretty well.”

The band members glance at the managers, and Dustin sighs as he leans back in his chair, twisting his mouth in thought and tapping his pen against the table.

“This is gonna be more work than I thought.”

————

a/n: AHHH, YOU'VE MADE IT TO THE END!!! WE HOPE YOU LIKED THIS AND LOVE THEM SO FAR; more to come sooonnnn <3

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teeny taglist: @tommyvelvet @oeuryale

Masterlist

Please let me know if you wanna be on the taglists for any of these, if a link is messed up, or something isn’t here :)

—————

Clannibal

-The Exercise Room Pt. 1,* Pt. 2*,Pt. 3*,Pt. 4*,Pt. 5*

-Bull Rider*

-Cramp Reliever*

—————

Hosea Matthews

Kept Awake*

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Tywin Lannister

~A Lion In the Garden~ (Technically complete but currently being rewritten/edited. Everything below the dashes is original and everything above is new. Also, I apologize for how confusing the formatting is, I’m adding new chapters into the rewrite so it doesn’t connect directly.)

-Part 1

-Part 2

-Part 3

-Part 4

-Part 5

—————

-Part 4

-Part 5

-Part 6

-Part 7

-Part 8

-Part 9

-Part 10

-Part 11

-Part 12

-Part 13

-Part 14

-Part 15*

-Part 16

-Part 17*

-Part 18

-Part 19

-Part 20

-Part 21

-Part 22*

-Part 23

-Part 24

-Part 25

-Part 26*

-Part 27

-Part 28

-Part 29

-Part 30

hello neighbor

AN | So…what if you moved to a new apartment and Eddie Munson was your neighbor? What if he also had an adorable little black cat? Things could get interesting! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 5.3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You grunted, an admittedly unattractive sound, as you dragged the last of your boxes out of the elevator and towards your new apartment. It was down the hall, at the end naturally, but it was so close. You’d managed to do pretty much everything by yourself, except for the new furniture that had been delivered, you’d let the delivery people handle that. But at the end of the second day of moving, your body was tired and you were ready to crash and call it a day. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

It was just these damn boxes that needed to be brought. You hadn’t labeled them, a silly mistake on your part, and you weren’t sure if it was items you actually possessed or if somehow you’d acquired several boxes of rocks. With a groan you resorted to sliding them down the hall, thanking whatever was out there in the universe that the floor was smooth tile. It would take a few minutes but then it would all be done and you’d be all moved into your new apartment in New York City. 

“You alright there?” the inquisitive voice caught you so off guard that you almost tumbled over the boxes laid out in front of you. You felt an arm wrap around your waist before you could collide with the floor, and were hoisted back to your feet, “easy there.”

Keep reading

I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

Warnings: major angst, breakups, heartbreak, allusions to cheating, self doubt, mean!Steve, King!Steve, happy ending

Parings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader | Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve is slipping through your fingers and you desperately hold onto him not realizing that his heart isn't yours anymore, or is it?

prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve