Dirty Little Secret| Eddie Munson x Reader

Can't Fight This Feeling

*A/N: Smut ahead ;).*

Y/N's POV
Friday, September 6, 1985.

"Goodnight, Eddie." I smiled at him before walking up to my door. I turned back to wave to him, but his van was already halfway down the street. I frowned, slowly opening the door in hopes that my dad wouldn't hear me come in. I hung my damp sweatshirt on the coatrack and peeked my head around the corner to look into the living room, seeing my dad passed out in the recliner with the TV still on. I gently closed the door and tiptoed into the living room, grabbing a blanket off the couch. I draped it over my dad and turned off the TV. My dad stirred in his sleep, his face twisting into a stressed expression. I sighed down at him sadly as I carefully slipped the empty beer bottle out of his grasp, placing it onto the coffee table. I can't imagine how he must be feeling right now. I pressed a kiss onto his forehead before sneaking up the stairs into the bathroom.

I rested my hands on the counter, looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes wandered down the assortment of hickeys scattered across my neck and chest as thoughts of tonight with Eddie find their way into my head. Becoming overwhelmed by regret, I decided I just needed to go to bed. I grabbed a bobby-pin from my counter and walked to my bedroom door, jamming it into the lock to pick it open.

I struggled for a moment before finally swinging the door open and peeling my wet clothes off. I dropped them onto the floor and threw an old Black Sabbath t-shirt and underwear on before closing my open window and crawling into bed. I laid down and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push my thoughts away. Slowly but surely Eddie crept back into my mind.

How his hands felt, slowly running down my body. How his neck looked as he threw his head back, moaning for me. How his fingers felt as he-

I shot up in bed and tossed my blankets off of me, overheating from the dirty images that plagued my mind. I turned my lamp on and grabbed my phone, dialing Katie's number.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Katie's dad answered the phone almost immediately.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jorgenson." I apologized, feeling bad for waking him up in the middle of the night with a teenage crisis he most likely did not give a single shit about.

"Oh, hi, y/n." Mr. Jorgenson sighed, realizing it was me. "It's past midnight, hun, can this wait?"

"It's important," I plead. He sighed again and told me to give him a second. I heard him set the phone down and walk out of the room.

"What did you drag me out of bed for?" Katie sleepily groaned over the phone a moment later.

"Katie, I fucked up," I lamented, setting my elbow down on my bedside table and resting my head in my hand. "I fucked up so bad."

"What the fuck happened?" Katie whispered excitedly, snapping out of her groggy state.

"You remember Steve, right?" I started, hoping she'd remember me telling her about his party. She hummed over the phone in agreement and I began my rant. I gave her the whole shpeal about how Steve told me to stay away from Eddie after they almost fought, the argument I had with Steve and how we made up, and how quickly things escalated when I ran into Eddie tonight.

"Oh my, you slept with the Freak?" I heard Mr. Jorgenson ask, eavesdropping from the other landline.

"DAD! HANG UP!" Katie screamed across her house. I heard Mr. Jorgenson hang up the phone and Katie swore under her breath at him before turning her attention back to me. "Did you fuck him, though?"

"No, I didn't fuck him." I confirmed, slightly embarrassed that her father was listening in on my dilemma. "I stopped him before things got too serious."