premise: coming back to hawkins for your summer vacation from college is the last thing you want to do, but you find yourself back in your hometown and it all goes to shit in a matter of weeks. thinking your summer is already a bummer, getting high with the town outcast doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.
warnings: eighteen+ content, blowjob (eddie's first one, he's a lil virgin in this sorry y'all), drug use, cheesy flirting, past crush unmentioned but there, tiny bit of praise kink, i made eddie's van cooler than it actually is, reader is a lil self absorbed but it's ok, mentions of past bullying, class difference, and shit family dynamics.
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"Shit! Fuck!"
The sounds of aggravation that erupts from your throat are anything but ladylike. The moon shining down just right in the sky to show the hunk of mud that's now stuck on the top of your red pumps. Pumps that cost too much to be covered in dirt and grime, and yet here they were. Ruined.
All because you had stormed off from the party taking place in the backyard of your long term boyfriend-who was now your ex because fuck him, and fuck this washed up town.
You knew agreeing to come back for the summer would be absolutely detrimental to your psyche. Missing out on what would have been the summer of your life alongside college friends, a new city, on boats, planes; anywhere better than Hawkins!
But being the amazing, doting girlfriend you were, you had been easily convinced by the promise of gifts, booze, and a hell of a summer.
Two weeks in and you were miserable, had ruined Louis Vuitton's, barely tipsy off of cheap beer, and now newly single.
"Fuck this place!" You scream to yourself, louder than you should have in a not-disturbing-the-peace way, a dog barking in the distance. You needed to catch the first bus out of this dump of a town as soon as possible.
"I completely agree," comes a voice to the side of you. If the pumping of anger and spite wasn't making your heart boom in your ear drums right now, or the distraction of materialistic items didn't have you fuming: you were sure you might have seen them, whoever they are. Or at least smelled them. The heavy scent of weed lingers in the air and you can only assume it's the weed guy your ex-boyfriend had been talking about.
