baddiewiththebook

27 | non-binary (she/they) | poc

[baddiewiththebook]

my masterlist

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STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Munson - FIC LIST

Over the Years [18+] -> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

Eddie Munson - SERIES

One of the Boys -> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think. One of Them -> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.

Eddie Munson - ONE SHOT

Stuffing and Sauce [18+] -> It's Thanksgiving, and the gang is all together under one roof: the Henderson house. While Mrs. Henderson and Wayne battle the turkey in the kitchen, Eddie fights his own urges with the older Henderson sibling. You're home for the holidays, and Eddie's hungry. . . but, not for turkey.

[baddiewiththebook]

Dearest readers,

I make my return today! Because of my absence I've not only prepared, but posted four whole chapters for your enjoyment. I'll do my best to keep up with posting!

xo, baddie

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 33

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

August 1994 . . . this is actually the last one

Chrissy dials a few numbers, and throws heads together. She pulls her boss for a meeting, and reminds him that she pays his bills just as much as he pays hers. If she goes, the company would tank and would he want to risk that?

“I got you a job!”

Gareth didn’t expect Chrissy in the afternoon, or really at all. And, really she would have been more subtle about the whole idea. She was just thoroughly excited at the idea of rekindling your friendship with her.

You were resting on the couch with a bowl of ice cream, and sorrowed thoughts. To get you out of the room, Eddie promised you the ice cream and a movie together. He was rubbing your feet while you sacrificed potato chips into your bowl of ice cream instead of using a spoon like a normal person. You insisted the salty chip to the sweet creamy treat paired better than they did on their own.

When Chrissy came in with a fire under your butt, you were sure you heard her incorrectly. She must have been joking because in less than twenty four hours Chrissy has done the impossible.

“And you can stay with me,” she beams, “I’ll even introduce Robin to my art friends. She’ll thrive in the city!”

Moving to Los Angeles? Really? The cost of living was insane here, and there’s no way you would be able to even afford groceries on a salary doing - er -

“What’s the job?” You jam your chip in your ice cream and forget about it.

“They need someone to be my boss’ monkey,” she corrects herself, “I mean it’s assistant work. You’ll be doing whatever he needs.”

“Whatever he needs?” You cringe.

Chrissy shakes her head, “not like that. My boss is tough, but he’s easy enough to get along with. He’s like a - a -.”

“Rottweiler,” Gareth finishes her sentence that clearly has come up before in their conversations.

She nods, “yes!”

Gareth nabs the ice cream away from you, while your attention is elsewhere. Personally, a chip scoop seems reasonable enough to him.

“I don’t know, Chrissy,” you’re not really a Los Angeles person.

“You’ll be closer to Eddie most days out of the year, and you’ll be putting your foot in the door with some very influential people. You still write don’t you?” Chrissy hopes.

“Yeah, but it’s just a hobby.”

Even with a degree under your belt, you don’t ever use it for anything to push yourself forward. You thought your last job would be the key to enter the journalist workforce. But, you turned into an assistant. A walking piece of ass for the men to gawk at.

“Please, I stole your journal once. You’ve got incredible talent!” Chrissy scoffs at your modesty.

“You stole my journal?”

“Sorry, high school. I didn’t read that much,” she blabs. “Something about prom, and afterwards you and Gareth- that’s not important! I mean it’s not like Eddie and I didn’t- you know!”

You didn’t know, actually. Peaking to the end of the couch, Eddie rubs a sore spot on his forehead avoiding your gaze.

“Oh, shoot,” she huffs. “I said too much again. It was just like once.. or twice. I didn’t have money for weed and Eddie-.”

“Chrissy,” Gareth says softly to rip her from her trance. “That was high school. Everything is fine.”

While Gareth comforts her, you pop the bubble on this sweet moment for them by nailing Eddie with a pillow. It smacks him in the shoulder, and drops to the floor. Eddie stares bewildered, before you shout;

“You’re such a whore!” You snicker at his foul behavior. “You let girls suck you off for weed?”

“I- I was a horny teenager! What do you want?” Eddie grabs his shoulder. “You got a strong arm.”

“So, it’s like we’ve all done each other,” Gareth cringes at his thought spilling from his mouth before he can stop it.

“Why on earth would you say that?” You scrunch your face up.

“I haven’t done her,” Chrissy points out.

“I’d be okay with that!” Eddie and Gareth speak over each other.

“You’re both whores,” you roll your eyes. “Perverts.”

Chrissy rounds the conversation back to you. You, who has yet to decide to take the job or not. Firstly, you would give Robin a call that would uproot her entire life. She would give up so much. Would she even want to live out here?

You’d be so far away from home, but Chrissy’s right. This could do big things for you. Or, you could get stuck under another man’s thumb. You’re given the week to decide. A whole week to stir over your decision.

Robin takes the news heavy. Moving out to Los Angeles would cost far too much on her budget. She appreciates the offer, but an “introduction to Chrissy’s art friends” isn’t exactly employable.

The time goes by slowly, and most of the time you’re alone with your thoughts. There’s a lot to do in the band, and Eddie can’t play house with you the whole time you’re here.

He’s sat in an interview where they throw question after question about music, until a curveball is thrown in. Something about the music is more romantic than usual, and she wants to know who’s the love inspired by.

Gareth chocks it up to the experiences they’ve had with romance their whole lives, and even people that they surround themselves with. He points out that Jeff and his wife have been happily married and committed to each other, that they have a beautiful child together.

But, that’s not what the interviewer wants to know. She wants the details of Eddie Munson and his tendency to sleep around.

“Are you, or are you not romantically involved? You seem happier.” She leans forward in her chair, her blouse tightens to her chest. An unprofessional move if he’s ever seen.

Eddie lets himself smile when he says, “honestly, I’m just beyond proud of these boys. We really came out with an album to be proud of.”

The interviewer drops the invasive question, although he knows this won’t be the end of all. Eventually, your pictures would be leaked and appear more romantic than you want. You’re not ready for all of that - to be linked to Eddie as his girlfriend. After that, you’ll never get a break.

That, and he loves the privacy you have together. His own island. His slice of untouched heaven.

You appreciate that he leaves the deciding factor to show off your relationship in public up to you. The paparazzi you’ve heard of can be cruel and unforgiving. They’re stalkers that get paid to photograph your every living move. You’d never be able to go to the grocery store without them biting at your ankles.

Eventually, yes you’d be willing to step into the public as Eddie Munson’s girlfriend. You want to go to his shows, and his award ceremonies to celebrate along with him. The shiny dresses and big hair are a bonus.

Eddie doesn’t talk about your relationship publicly, but in the comfort of his home where you rest on his furniture as though you’ll never leave (not that he wants you too), he makes the decision to call Wayne since he won’t be seeing him until Thanksgiving. And, he would rather not get an earful then.

“Hey, Wayne,” Eddie gives you a thumbs up because his uncle is at home, and on the other line.

Suddenly you’re more nervous than you thought you would be. Taking deep breaths, you let the men catch up on life and specifically what Eddie’s been up too. You tap your toes on the linoleum of his kitchen waiting for the telephone to be handed to you.

“Remember that girl I was telling you about?” You can hear Wayne chuckle on the other line, and start rambling on about something. “Y-yeah, she’s here with me now. I’d like you to talk to her if you’re up for it.”

Eddie mutters ‘yes’ about a dozen times, no doubt he’s answering to one of Wayne’s many life stories about treating women with respect. Or, that he should really consider settling down and having kids soon if he’s going to do that. Eventually, Eddie’s able to pull the phone from his ear and hand him over to you.

“You can do this,” Eddie whispers, “he loves you.”

Taking the phone, you take one last deep breath before pulling the phoniest confidence you could muster.

“H-hey, uncle Wayne!” You cringe unsure if that’s how he would want a girlfriend of Eddie’s to speak to him.

You pull the phone from your ear, as Wayne lets out a cartoonish yell and begins blabbering on about how thrilled he is that you two finally got together.

For a while, you stay on the phone listening to Wayne give you endless amounts of relationship advice that doesn’t really apply to you. The point being that he’s happy for you and Eddie, and you better be at Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. He wants to see this new couple in person with his own old eyes - his words.

You say ‘goodbye’ and hand the phone to Eddie, who gets another earful of relationship advice. The way he smiles into the phone call warms you. He gets comfortable listening to his uncle yammer on about the many things Eddie’s heard before, but lets Wayne continue with his stories.

Before they hang up, you catch Wayne demanding Eddie ‘be good to that girl.’ Then, finally Eddie hangs up the phone and turns to face you. You smile, and let your mouth hang open to speak, before Eddie tackles you into his arms.

A warm bed awaits you.

-> <-

[to be continued]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 32

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

August 1994 . . . for the last time

Gareth comes home unexpectedly in the middle of the night with a girl. You don’t stir, but Eddie does as light pours in through the crack in the bottom of his door.

Eddie holds you tighter, and drifts off to sleep as his roommate mutters something about being quiet to not wake him. Too late for that, and in fact most nights he pulls this crap Eddie will at least wake for a moment.

In the morning, Eddie wakes first. So, he dozes. He drifts. You’re resting comfortably against him, and he doesn’t want to bother you at all. This, and that his roommate will be somewhere in the house (if he’s awake). He’s not wanting to go out there are explain anything without talking to you first.

The sun kissing his windows, and pushing through his curtains is making him hot. He has to pee too. Your snores are cute. He’s missed them. The way you curl your arm and tuck it under your chin. You look like you’re dreaming really hard about something.

Eddie notices the first signs of you waking up when you inhale a large gulp of air, and you wipe the drool from your mouth hoping no one saw that. He did, and he thinks you’re cute.

This right here is what it’s like being the richest man in the world. You uncurl yourself, and you stretch your feet under the blanket before getting comfortable again.

Eddie makes his move to kiss your head to bring you closer and closer back to earth from dream land. You’re not much of a morning person, and you tend to have one of the sourest expressions on your face when you do open your eyes. He’s missed your cute grumpy face.

There it is.

You’re glaring. Not on purpose. But, you are staring him down trying to figure him out. You’re awake, but barely. And, your breath stinks. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Good morning,” his breath is probably rotten too.

“‘Morning,” you’re grouchy, but you’re trying not to be for him.

The two of you roll and snuggle in bed together until the urgency of needing a bathroom becomes too great. You use his bathroom, and borrow an extra toothbrush to freshen up. Eddie takes a separate bathroom down the hall, while hoping he doesn’t run into Gareth.

Upon his return, you’re much more awake than before (but barely), so he bring up the situation you’re in.

“Gareth’s home,” Eddie holds your hands.

Your eyes widen, “seriously?”

“He came home last night,” he tells you, “I don’t want you sneaking out of here like a secret though.”

You blush just then. Cheeks reddening with delight.

“I’ll make you some breakfast, and if he wakes up,” Eddie shrugs his shoulders, “I’ll talk to him.”

“We’ll talk to him,” you agree.

Eddie nods his head, and pulls you forward into a hug. He’s never been a super physical person in his previous relationships, but with you he’d never let you go if he had the chance.

“Let me brush my teeth, and we can go out there together,” he rubs your back.

You wait for him to brush his teeth, and when he returns with his hair tied to the top of his head (which has you weak by the way), you leave the bedroom together.

While you grew up, Eddie’s never been much of a chef. Frozen tv dinners were his speciality. Here in the kitchen, watching Eddie whisk together eggs and chopping up potatoes, and not burning anything - you admit it’s sexy. A different version of your Eddie. There’s pieces of him still laying around the house. He’s got his old D&D book on the bottom shelf of that record holder, and the living room holds some display pieces from the Lord of the Rings. You wonder if they’re real. With his money, you can almost guarantee they are. You don’t ask letting your curiosity stay curious.

“Did you sleep okay?” He leans across the counter to you, while the food cooks behind him.

You nod, “your bed is much more comfortable than the motel.”

“Next time you visit, you’re staying here,” he wags his finger at you.

“If I do that you wouldn’t let me leave the bed,” you blink lowering your gaze to his mouth where his stubble has become fuller since last you saw him.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Eddie leans over the counter top searching for your lips.

You oblige, and meet him in the center of the island you’re sat at. If he wasn’t cooking (and his roommate wasn’t somewhere in the house), you might just let him have you a second time right here in this kitchen.

The man warns you he’s coming back for more, and turns around back to the stove to toss his potatoes before they burn.

Nearing the end of the hallway, unbeknownst to you with all the noise from the stove, Gareth lingers at the smells coming from the kitchen. Eddie’s not an early riser unless there’s company. And, just like Eddie, Gareth has a guest. A guest that was trying to sneak out early, and yet they wouldn’t make it to the front door without everyone knowing who was in his bed last night.

Gareth tells her to wait in the hallway, while he investigates the situation in the kitchen. When he does round the corner, your head swivels to him. You’re drinking tea from one of Eddie’s favorite mugs, that Gareth could have sworn was off limits to anyone but Eddie. All appears normal aside from you in Eddie’s clothes. He could have sworn the spare bedroom was empty last night. But, he can’t be too surprised. You two used to sleep next to each other all the time growing up. He was your safe space away from your mom and all.

A moment in your eyes sheds worry, and you signal for Eddie to notice Gareth’s presence coming towards them. That’s new. His brow crinkles in the center of his face.

“Good morning,” Gareth finishes off more like a question. “You sleep here last night?”

Taking a swig of your tea, you answer with a bob of the head. Eddie awaits for Gareth to ask for any details, or answer his suspicions. But, Gareth is much too occupied with a secret of his own that’s standing in the hallway.

“Gareth,” Eddie serves food in equal portions on two plates, leaving the rest for Gareth who would eat later in the day. “We should talk.”

Gareth sweats, not for what Eddie would say, but rather he wonders if she’s not doing her hiding too well.

“What’s up?” His voice cracks.

You look to Eddie for his guidance during this conversation. Nerves chill up your spine, and you can only hope that Gareth takes this well.

“You know that girl that I’ve been seeing?” Eddie rounds the center island putting food in front of you. Food you’re much too nervous to eat until this conversation is over.

“The one that won’t put out?” Gareth swears explicitly.

Your nose scrunches in disbelief, “excuse me? So what if I won’t put out?!”

You cover your own big mouth, but the damage is done. Eddie’s laughing over your head and rubbing a hand over your spine. This was not the gentle conversation you wanted to have with Gareth, yet here you are. Everything is laid out in the open.

Gareth hasn’t said anything yet, and you’re far too embarrassed to look at him with your head buried in Eddie’s shirt. You don’t see that he processes your words slowly, and swallows thickly. At first, he’s angry for Eddie not to tell him what’s been going on and he demands to know for how long. But, those feelings sizzle out and a plotting grin spreads ear to ear.

“That’s great!” You sit up blinking rapidly at the boy, “No, I mean I’m very happy for you two. It’s like perfect right? You’re best friends, and everyone assumed you would end up together anyway.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the fumbling mess in front of him, “Gareth.”

“What? I’m happy - really!” He begins to back away from the kitchen. “This is just great news. Nothing else could top it, right?”

Gareth steps back enough that he runs directly into his secret, who’s grown tired of waiting for him to solve whatever issues he has with his roommate.

“I’m sorry, Gareth,” she pecks a pink smudge on his cheek, “my boss just got this really good scoop, and if I don’t go then they’ll give the air time to Monica. She’s been after my job for weeks.”

Gareth knows about Monica. A sour faced thirty-year-old know-it-all. He’s heard all about her disruptions.

“Chrissy?” Your jaw is damn near on the floor, “Chrissy Cunningham?”

“This makes us even, right?” Gareth gulps.

Eddie stares at the blonde in his hallway. Clearly, in the time waking up this morning to this conversation, Chrissy’s had more than enough time to put herself together. Her big hair has more volume than anyone’s ever seen. Cheeks plump with rouge. And, lips a scorching vibrant pink that pops from her pale complexion. She’s televisions hottest news reporter.

“Aren’t you like … married?” You try not to sound rude, but you’re not sure how else to ask.

Chrissy sighs knowing her story is going to be passed on to the next girl in line. This wasn’t the plan to stay, and meet his roommate for the first time since high school (and his girlfriend too).

It’s her fault for being at the bar a few weeks ago with her friends for that bachelorette party. They dared her to take a body shot from him to win points to some cheap ten dollar prize at the end of the night. Not knowing she already knew him until she tapped him on the shoulder, her heart leapt to the sky realizing she knew who he was. And, as the night went on and drinks kept flowing - well, Chrissy took the invitation to come back to his house for an after party. Again, and again this arrangement became more like a coincidental favor of sorts.

More and more, she liked Gareth and when she expressed this to him a while back, he couldn’t help that he too felt the same for her. They’ve been exclusive only a week or so, and the couple would agree they’ve been blissful.

“Not since the accident,” she doesn’t wear her wedding band anymore. At first she did, but she removed the memento with butter around a year and a half ago.

Jason Carver passed away from a car accident a few years ago, and the burial was short. He didn’t have many friends, and those he did have were from high school. Those boys ditched him as fast as they could post graduation.

Chrissy was a widow before the age of twenty-five. But, she’s since moved forward with her life after she took the time to realize why she married him in the first place. Convenience. Ease. It was the thing to do after high school. She even found out she was pregnant that evening, and planned to tell him that night.

Jason wasn’t the only one who died that night, but Chrissy decided to keep that to herself. No one knows. Not even her own family.

“I’m sorry,” immediately you feel guilt for asking, but she waves off those feelings.

“I’m doing much better now,” she explains that she sold the property that Jason invested on to build their home, and she took all the money into herself to move away from Hawkins. The city loves her blonde hair, her icy skin and her commercial smile. She’s perfect for the camera.

Quickly, the money began flowing. Her experience with journalism was slim to none, but she didn’t have to try to fit in. She learned the moves. The ropes to get in the best stories. And, her wealth was evidence to her success.

“It’s nice to see you again,” her eyes were aimed for Eddie, but she meant to say this to the both of you. “You both look well.”

“Thank you, as do you,” Eddie spoke for the pair of you, as a comforting arm rests on top of your shoulder. “There’s plenty of food.”

“I should run, but we should catch up. All of us - dinner on Friday?” Chrissy offers as a suggestion.

“Actually, I’m just visiting. My flight’s in- shit!” you’re beyond late for your flight. The airport is too far away for you to race back to your motel, and get to the airport on time. “I missed my flight!”

“I could arrange a private jet-,”

“Edward Munson!” You scold him for throwing his money around.

“Oh, here!” Chrissy hands you her cell phone to use to get in touch with a travel agent.

Spending time pacing around Eddie’s kitchen to living room, you run your thumb along your top teeth for comfort. The agent is trying every air line with no such luck. It is the weekend after all, and most people are probably smart enough to book their flights early. And, they don’t miss their flights either.

“Thank you, for trying,” you speak into the phone, “you too. Have a nice day.”

Clutching the phone to your chest, you huff out a frustrated sigh. Gareth’s the only one inhaling breakfast at the table. The other two sit cross armed, and stare with glazed eyes awaiting your verdict. You shake your head and puff out your cheeks.

“Nothing,” you confirm. “I’m so getting fired tomorrow.”

“Call your boss? Maybe he’ll understand,” Chrissy offers hope, but to no avail. Your boss is the worst piece of garbage, and even if you claim a family member’s fallen ill and is sinking into the grave he’ll still find a reason to can you.

You have to face the music sooner or later, and since Chrissy’s offered you her cellphone, you call your boss. It’s Sunday. He’s probably out golfing or making someone’s day more difficult than need be.

As you try to explain to him what happened, you can hear him counting the minutes you’re wasting. He’s unconvinced and unsure why he’s kept you in the office so long if you can’t do something as simple as showing up for work.

He uses some profanities, and offers you a few derogatory words that depict women being lazy and useless before relieving you of your position. It hurts to know you were never valued, and that he truly is as sleazy as they come. Your second thought is what are you going to do now. Getting that job was such a huge accomplishment, and although the pay was poor - it was pay.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Eddie comes to your side as the phone falls back into your lap. “There are better opportunities out there.”

You lean your weight onto him, while he rubs a flat hand along your spine.

“What am I going to do?” Your eyes brim with tears that fall slowly.

Chrissy pipes up, “I’m sure my company is hiring. You could do like assistant things? Coffee runs?”

You throw her a sad smile, “thanks, Chris.”

She hasn’t heard that nickname since high school, and it warms her deeply. The two of you hardly spoke if at all since then. That probably had to do with Jason being - well, she wouldn’t speak ill of the dead. He and Eddie never got along, and since you were almost always with Eddie or Gareth for that matter, she never got a chance to get ahold of you.

“You can stay here for the night at least until you get a plane back home,” Eddie offers, “It’s no private jet, but I want to help.”

You want to decline. In fact, what you’d like to do is go back to your motel, draw a nice bath and drown yourself inside. You couldn’t leave Robin with the bills. That’s cruel and selfish. And, Eddie would cry. Wayne too.

Oh, Wayne! He’ll be so excited when you finally tell him that you and Eddie quit being ridiculous and got together. Okay, so you’ll stick around for Wayne.

Chrissy’s phone goes off in your hands, and you hand the telephone over to her. She takes the call in the other room.

Gareth finishes his last bite of food, and finally joins the conversation after a large gulp of water.

“Stay here tonight, I really don’t mind,” he says, but warns, “the walls aren’t thin, but do know I stay up late at night. And, if I walk past your door. I'll hear everything.”

“Ugh! Get a porno mag like a normal man,” Eddie scolds.

You snicker for the first time since you got canned moments ago. A joyous bubble rests in your chest. No matter what you have your boys, just as they have you. You appreciate the offer, and you chose to stay. Only for one night.

In the midst of a period of silence, where Chrissy’s conversation can be heard from the next room as bubbles of work jargon, Eddie stands up a little straighter from where he comforts you.

“If you’ve got Chrissy, why were you trying to get me to go to the bar the other night?” Eddie shakes his head at his friend.

Gareth checks to see if Chrissy overheard this question, and you sit up out of your head for the first time since the phone call with your boss.

“He did what?” Your brows furrow.

The boy at the dining table snorts, “buddy, I just needed to know how serious you were about this chick. You weren't telling me anything!”

“Calling a woman ‘chick’ real classy, Gareth,” you mumble grumpily.

Gareth shrugs his shoulders, and before he could dig himself an even deeper hole that he wouldn't get himself out of even if someone handed him a later, Chrissy comes back into the room after she ends her phone call.

“What’s real classy?” Chrissy tosses her head from either side of the room.

“Gareth was trying to get Eddie to pick up women yesterday,” you tattle.

“Oh, Gareth!” Chrissy's hands rest on her hips ready to scold the young man.

“Nice, now I’m in trouble!” Gareth grouches.

“You said I wouldn’t put out,” you smile wickedly, “now we’re even.”

Eddie holds his hand out for you to slap down a high five.

“Good job, baby,” he praises. “That’s my girl.”

-> <-

[August 1994 . . . this is actually the last one]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 31

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

August 1994 . . . again

A private dinner in the back of a restaurant with candles, and soft classical music. There’s no one, but you and Eddie. Eddie dresses in his usual flare, but he picks out the best t-shirt and slacks he owns adding his own touch of jewelry.

Los Angeles hasn’t changed him too deeply. He misses the lower costs of everything back in Hawkins, but not the people (aside from the select few - his uncle and such). He’s adjusting quite nicely after living here for some many years.

Still, his escape is Indianapolis - with you. Wherever you are, that’s his happy place. Something he hasn’t told you yet, but he’s fairly certain you know.

He stares at you in the flicker of the lights prepared to ask you to marry him right then and there. The years he’s spent staring at his best friend, accepting that you couldn’t possibly want him the way that he wants you. That he needs you. You’re his oxygen. His gravity. His sole light in pitch blackness. He’ll follow you anywhere.

You catch him staring over your glass of water, and your mouth curls upward until he can see your cute dimples pushing your cheeks out. He watches as your cheeks rosy.

“What?” You break him away from his thoughts.

Eddie lays his palm out across the table for you to take, and when you do he begins to trace the lines of your palms like he’s memorizing each part of you.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world right now,” he hums out loud. “You look so beautiful tonight.”

You hide your face with your other hand, as you redden even more. What a sap! The joy spread across your face is real. You cannot contain that little giggle you get when you’re thrown by what someone’s said. Eddie can’t get enough.

Not just about you, but the drive you have. The passion. You seek more from the world than just what was taught to you by the education system. The way you have such an imagination for people, and the words you write down on paper. You still hold that close to your chest.

“I know it’s our last night,” Eddie reminds you of the impending flight ahead of you tomorrow, “I don’t want to end the night without asking how you’re feeling about us? Are we heading in the right direction?”

The plates are empty, and the meal has been eaten. Eddie’s even paid the check. You just can’t help, but never want to leave this room. The moment you do, you’re headed back to the hotel to wait for your flight early the next morning. There wouldn’t be any time to see him tomorrow. You want to spend all the time you can right now - uninterrupted.

Eddie’s posed question hangs in the air. You appreciate his drive and his ambitions. The commonalities between the two of you are terribly similar, and the only doubts in your mind are the distance. Would it be too much? But, Eddie assures you that he’ll do everything he can to drop everything and to come see you.

The privacy of your life would become interrupted in chaos, but again Eddie assures to keep your relationship as private as you would like. He won’t speak your name in interviews, and if they ask he can be the single bachelor that consumes their wet-dreams.

And, he would come to visit soon. Wayne’s going to do backflips once he finds out you’re the girl that he’s told him about over the phone.

All that aside, you do really like Eddie as a friend and as a man you’re very interested in. Friendships be damned. You’re already deep into this, exploring new boundaries and new emotions. You’re lucky to have a friend like Eddie, and you’d be even luckier as a girlfriend.

“We’re headed in a good direction,” Eddie wants you to drive the conversation, because if he has it his way - he’s finding the first ring he sees and sliding it on your finger. You continue, “I’d like this to be more - official.”

The word slips of your tongue, and Eddie swears he could be doing backflips right now.

“Can I call you my girlfriend?” Eddie asks officially.

You nod, “yeah, you can call me your girlfriend.”

“Yes!” Eddie childishly fist pumps the air.

A snort escapes from your mouth, and you lean back in a laugh as Eddie ‘smoothly’ slides out his chair from underneath him to get to your side of the table as fast as possible. You gather yourself well-enough to accept as many short and sweet pecks Eddie will give you.

“Hey, Eddie?” You ask.

He hums.

“Is Gareth home tonight?”

The home is silent. No sign of life. Eddie scans the main rooms, before giving you the approving thumbs up. Gareth is not home. There’s no telling what he’s up to tonight, except Eddie’s fully aware he’s picking up women at the bar. Eddie’s hoping that Gareth and whatever woman would end up at her house, instead of their shared home.

Eddie flicks on a couple lights, and helps you take off your shoes at the door. A real gentleman, he takes them to his room with you trailing behind holding his free hand.

You’re jittery. Yes, you’ve had sex. But, that was a very rushed and heated affair that wasn’t planned. That wasn’t thought out. Tonight you were prepared. Showered and shaven. You painted your nails and toes, before you left for your flight this weekend.

Eddie’s bedroom, unlike the one he grew up in, was clean. You could tell right away that the decor was not his idea by the clean lines, and tactful display spacing. But, he was in here somewhere. The style reflects your Eddie.

You hum at the thought. Eddie’s yours. You’re his. This is picture perfect. Two childhood friends finding each other in their adulthood, but perhaps the affection has always been there. There’s always been something pulling the two of you together, even when you’re apart.

Eddie places your shoes in an open space near a short bookshelf filled instead with old records he refuses to give up. They’re from his bedroom back home. You recognize some of the covers. Some of them probably still hold your finger prints.

“I know it’s not the trailer, but-,”

“It’s wonderful,” you opt to make a joke, “there’s not even a stain on your sheets.”

This amuses him, and he snorts out a laugh.

“I do my laundry once a week, now.”

“Do you? I’m so proud,” you throw out playfully.

The way you look tonight could put a man on his knees - Eddie’s knees to be precise. He’s not just talking about the way you dressed up for tonight. Your beautiful satin dress, or how you chose to accessorize with those pearly pieces. The way your hair hangs along your face, and the style you chose to place it in. Eddie’s been anticipating you for a long time.

It’s there. You’ve been there. Since Eddie could breathe, all his life he’s wanted to be a musician. He’s made a mission to practice nearly every day, and even when he’s ready to throw in a towel you’re there to tell him to keep going. You stay up late at night encourage him to play another note. Play another song.

Even though you deny it, you have some pipes on you as well. Soft, and sweet. You add a balance to his roughness.

“What?” You meet his gaze.

Eddie takes a couple of heavy steps forward, “come here.”

In a flash, his lips find yours in the softest most passionate kiss you’ve ever experienced. You’re floating. His strong hand holds you from the back of the neck, and caresses your cheek. The fabric of his shirt becomes scrunched between your fingers. You dance along the muscle of his belly over his shirt.

A soft sound - barely a whimper - escapes your mouth and Eddie can feel his cock rising through his jeans. Your hands drop to his belt, and he nearly leaps through the ceiling how hot your nails graze his skin on your way down.

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie groans the expletive.

You stare up at him sweetly, as you touch your knees to the carpet. He helps you unbutton his pants, and lets them fall away. Quicker than he likes to admit, Eddie's shirt also becomes a memory. It lands lazily somewhere in his room.

Intimacy best shared between you and him goes uninterrupted, and with no consequences following the next day. There’s been several hookups that you find yourself lonelier during and after. The taxi rides home feeling nauseous, not from the hangover, but the knowing you’ll never see them again. Some might find you lame for this, but you crave that connection.

You stroke his hard cock in your hands. He leans his head back - hair dropping around his shoulders. Base to tip, you slide your tongue around the muscle listening to Eddie moaning above you. Hearing his harmony, you guide yourself along playing just the right notes.

“Oh, shit - my fault, my fault,” Eddie jerks back when you gag around him, “you good?”

You giggle, wiping the spit away from your lower lip when you tell him, “yeah, you’re just big.”

Eddie practically crumbles, “you really know how to stroke a man’s ego, huh?”

Helping you to your feet, Eddie’s got more planned for the night than just letting you suck his cock. He needs you. He needs this. Tonight. Now.

Eddie’s never been a selfish lover, and that could be said by any of his past experiences with women. This life he’s lived has given him enough of a chance to explore himself - explore other people. He’s a lover, or a giver if you will. And, to be honest, if you’re not done then neither is he.

Unzipping your dress, he presses kisses to each shoulder as the straps of your dress slide away. Carefully, he unzips you. Savoring each hot honeyed touch, Eddie feels the moment the fabric puddles to the floor. You step from the pool, and further into him. Chest to chest. Skin to skin. You breath hotly against him. Drunken by his touch. He guides you to his bed. The Gods must have favored you when they created you. Your skin is like butter. Soft. Plump. He just can’t get enough holding onto you.

You moan out his name, and he whispers something explicit in your ear just before your legs hit the wood frame of his bed. He toys with your lace underwear between his fingers.

“You wear this for me?” He licks the skin beneath your ear. “All for me, hm?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you’re drunk off lust. Hardly, audible or awake.

Eddie nips your earlobe, “good. That’s my good girl, hm? You wanna be good for me? Good to me?”

The sensation in your lower belly tingles harder at every lustful word that leaves your man’s mouth. You can hardly keep your head on straight. Dizzily, he spins you around and you land onto the bed on your butt. His eyes are dark, and glazed over. This is a different Eddie - you’re Eddie, but different.

You spread your legs for him to get more than comfortable between. He begins his assault by placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, then to your cheek and finally swallowing you whole by the mouth.

This is what you get for sleeping with a rockstar, hm? He’s like a professional or some shit. You could get used to this.

Your hands find their way into his hair, and make purchase grabbing onto him there. He groans deeply, and you take note. Finding his sweet spots, you mark down exactly where he likes to be touched just as he does to you.

It’s Eddie’s turn to drop to his knees in front of you. Kisses lowering down the scape of your body, your eyes roll into the back of your head completely entrusting him. His hands find their way around your body, stopping at your neck, your breasts and your belly. The night is long, and he plans to take things as slow as he can - getting the most out of hearing you call his name.

When he gets even lower, to where your underwear encases you from him, Eddie becomes animalistic and perverted. He dares inhale. Memorizing your scent. You arch your back and lift your hips sickeningly, as he begins to peel your underwear down your legs.

The last time this happened, Eddie was quick. He didn’t savor what was in front of him.

“God,” Eddie swallows, “you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You stare down at him, “you promise you’re not just saying that because you get to see me naked?”

Eddie sits up at this to meet your face. Large hands caress your cheeks to keep you from looking away.

“I swear on everything,” he means what he says, “you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

“Eddie,” you run your thumb across his wrists, “I hope you mean that. You’re my best friend, and I-.”

It feels weird saying you love him now. There’s a different weight to those words, and you shouldn’t just say them to say them. He knows his you feel about him. So, you shouldn’t have to say them out loud. This isn’t just your friendship. It’s something different, something more.

You’ve built the foundation, and you’ve got all the right materials. It’s time for you two to build the house. A house takes time. Labor. Love.

You’ll get there.

“I love you,” Eddie means what he says, and he doesn’t care if he’s not playing by the rules. Wearing his heart right out on his sleeve, nothing can be hidden from you there, “too.”

You press your lips to his in a passionate flame. Friendship to lovers, and to forever with him. There’s no where else to go. And, if he was crazy enough he’d ask you right then to marry him.

Eddie asks against your lips, “can I make you feel good, now?”

One more searingly passionate kiss, and you bob your head up and down answering his much anticipated question. Eddie laughs joyously and hisses. This wouldn't be the same with any other person, and you take a moment to appreciate how safe you are to be yourself around Eddie.

Laying back onto the pillowy sheets, you accept how different things would become between you. This new chapter would have discovery after discovery. Tonight even would be one of the first. What makes Eddie tick? What brings him pleasure.

You arch your legs high enough that you can hook your arms underneath to hold yourself there, and stare down at Eddie. With your brow pinched in the center, Eddie can sense your tense.

“Don’t fart on me now.”

Laughter bursts from you, the tension eases away from your face. Your Eddie, the one that could never take life too seriously is still here in this room with you.

“Actually-,” Eddie doesn’t finish his sentence.

“I swear, you’re so obnoxious,” you swat at him.

Eddie tuts, “hands on your knees, now. I’m trying to eat.”

Eddie nips at your thigh. The mood shifts back to sensual, as he dives deeper into his favorite part of the night - pleasing you. He takes his time. Thighs are his favorite part. Something to hold onto. Something soft.

He kisses hotly just above your pubic area where the hair begins to grow. Instead of worrying about if you've shaven enough, your mind goes white. Blank. His tongue has found your most intimate space.

To say you haven’t been anticipating this part of the night all night would be a lie. Eddie’s been so patient and respectful of your boundaries since you began to explore your new found relationship. You were terrified to tell him you weren’t ready for sex, after you already had sex.

Most men would have run. But, not Eddie. He agreed you two had been carried away that evening, and he was willing to slow down for you. Anything you wanted, Eddie would do just to have you. You’re worth it.

You gasp out loud, and your body twists. Eddie’s tongue flicks your clit. He’s figured you out. Mapped your territory. Your toes clench as he runs his mouth over and over that spot that makes you squirm. He throws his hands up against your thighs, as your knees come down.

Eddie looks at you. Really looks at you. The way your stomach tightens, and your back arches. Your nipples peak. Mouth slack, and your head drawn back.

“Please,” you shutter and tremble in your trance.

Eddie slicks his fingers against your pussy, before daring to slide them inside you tight and warm entrance. Stretching you with two of his slender and strong fingers, you drop your head against his bed and arch your back towards the ceiling.

"You're a mess for me? Hm?" Eddie's dirty talk has you clenching. "Come on, baby. Let me see what you can do?"

The mess you've made. Damp. Wet. You can't help, but tremble under his touch. No one has ever spoken to you so sweetly, and so demanding. Eddie drills his fingers deep and scissors the sides of your gummy walls. Swiftly, he returns his mouth over your clit like a dog being brought to water for the first time.

Your shaking hands reach out to grab hold of stability landing on his head. Yanking his hair, Eddie groans darkly at this. Sweet, sweet music drips from your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You’re putty in his hands.

“Holy, shit. You’re good at that,” you pant.

Throwing your arms back over your head, you don't have a moment to recover because Eddie's on the hunt. He towers over you - powerful and strong. His body is unreal and thoroughly handsome, and covered in tattoos. There's still more to add, but that's a question for later.

Eddie tugs his cock when he says, “you’re so hot when you cum. We’re so doing that again.”

Chewing the inner corner on your lip, you take this as a cue to slide back onto his king sized mattress. There's plenty of space, and you're sure to be covering every corner. If not tonight, then the next time he sees you he'll be sure to cover more land.

Eddie searches for a condom in the dresser, while you adjust comfortably against his sheets. Neither of you discussed protection, but you appreciate the respect he has to do before he asks.

“Oh, my god,” you can’t help but giggle lamely, “when did you get a tattoo on your dick?”

You hadn’t noticed the ink on his cock when you were down there earlier because you were a bit preoccupied. The piece is so small that you missed it earlier.

“You like them?”

“Them?”

A matching pair of stars seemingly placed randomly on either side of his cock. That couldn’t have felt pleasant when he got them. Who would even do a tattoo like that? You didn’t even know that part of the body could be tattooed. It’s kind of hot.

“I had a couple moles down there, and I thought why not highlight them,” he beams proudly of this accomplishment.

You let out a short breath of air, “sure. Why not highlight your dick moles?”

“You think they’re hot,” he smirks, while wrapping his cock in a condom.

You shake your head, “I think you’re hot. Come here!”

Eddie crawls his way into bed with you. Pressing his lips against yours again, he slows down to savor the moment. This moment right now. He’ll never want to forget this day.

As he aims his cock to your pussy, he promises to be good to you across your lips. He tells you just how much he cares about you, and that he’ll never hurt you.

This moment now, he slides his cock inside of you stretching you to fit him. Your mouth goes slack, and short hot breaths fall from your lips.

“You’re good,” you nod.

He pumps his cock in short bursts filling you out. Groaning out expletives, he thrusts once more deeply filling you fully. The sounds coming from your mouth are foul, are messy and are all the same beautiful. It’s him. He gets to make you feel this way. He gets to make you feel good.

You wrap your legs around him, and hug your arms underneath his arms and around his back. Unintentionally, you scratch him with your nails. This only makes him fuck you harder. Skin slaps explicitly against one another, as he drops his hips back and forth.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he whispers nasty words in your ear, “taking my dick like that.”

Your head falls back, and Eddie swoops in like a vampire to mark you up. To make sure that everyone knows you’re taken. That you’re his, and only his. No one else could make you scream like he does.

“Oh, my God,” you squeeze your thighs, “I’m gonna cum!”

Eddie smirks wickedly at this, and replies, “cum on my cock. Drench my dick.”

Boldly, Eddie switches angles. He takes your legs in a rough hold and he sits straight up almost leaning back before thrusting harshly inside of your pussy. You cry out, and he smiles wickedly. Rubbing your clit with his thumb, you’re completely done for. A second orgasm takes you trembling and folding into a pile of mush.

Eddie grunts out swears, before coming to completion himself. God, he’s such a mess for you. He drops your legs gently, but can’t come to leave you for a moment savoring how warm you are. How close you feel to him.

Eddie grabs the base of his cock, and leaves you exhausted and spent. While, he pulls himself together - removing the condom to throw it away, and cleaning off his cock - he notices you haven’t moved much. Your chest rises and falls, your eyes are on the ceiling.

“You still alive?” He returns from the bathroom, “do you need anything?”

You hold up a single finger, “gimmie a minute. I’m just - processing.”

Eddie laughs out loud, and slaps the meat of your thigh. You smile, while shaking your head back and forth.

Feeling fabric at your feet, you look down at Eddie. He has your underwear and he’s sliding them on you, one leg at a time.

“I’ll get you something to wear,” he’s got a clean shirt and a pair of pajama pants that would fit you.

You accept his help, and while he searches for clothing you head to the bathroom to freshen up. He’s got a shirt and shorts for you when you come back to the room.

The night ends when you’re tucked into bed together, and he’s stroking lines into your back and he’s kissing the top of your head just like old times. So, in a way, you’ve accepted that there has always been something there.

Both of you have just been too stubborn to admit it.

-> <-

[August 1994 . . . for the last time]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 30

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

August 1994

You’re kissing your best friend in the back of a car like some teenager. His hands - his large and strong hands - caress underneath your jawline. The beaded dress you wore tonight chews at your chest that houses your racing heartbeat.

In a different circumstance you would probably be in your bedroom kissing your insanely hot best friend. His hair touches your shoulder, as he leans further into you because you might as well be melting into the back seat. Your fingers find the open space along the neckline just past the fabric. It was a complete accident, but now that you’re there. His skin is soft despite all the damage he does using his body like a machine all these years.

You really grew up. The both of you. When you were young, the thought of sex was so new and so thrilling. You would have thought that by now you wouldn’t be so tingly.

Following New York, you dreaded it, but you went back to your every day humdrum life. Filing paperwork at your job at an unreasonable rate. Introducing the new hires to their trainees. Johnathan Byers, someone you bumped into from time to time in high school, has taken over the desk that once housed Steve Harrington. Steve has gone all mid-life crisis, before his new baby is even born. But, his new career path involves him being around children rather than an office filled with adults. He’s getting his teaching certificate. Nancy’s a homebody for the most part, but supports Steve and earns a fair amount of money working as a candy stripper in the hospital.

You wish you could follow in Steve’s footsteps, and chose the path you really wanted to take. Working alongside a group of men, who frankly don’t know you exist other than your quickness when it comes to picking up their coffee orders, isn’t a perfect life for you. All of your dreams take you farther away from this place. Farther into the world. You’re tired of reading about the places you want to see in books. You want inspiration for your own writing portfolio.

The sleeve of your terribly thought out dress drops, and Eddie lets out a soft hum. It’s suggestive, and you pull back from the kissing touching down on earth once more.

Eddie’s lips are shiny from the gloss that used to coat your lips. Red flushed cheeks, and a saucy little smirk - you’re nearly too far gone to say ‘no.’

“Eddie,” you say in a tone that reads as a warning.

Eddie groans selfishly, and rests his head against the nape of your neck, “I know - I know.”

“If we’re going to be together, I want the romance,” you rest against him. “We had sex, and one date. It was great. But, we agreed-,”

“It was backwards,” he finishes for you, but the temptation of your nude and tender skin being right there. Eddie places a few hot and heavy kisses to your neck just under your jaw and then nipping at your earlobe.

In the heat of the moment, he finds your weakness. Your one spot that could make you fold, and actually become the backseat. Even though your legs are gelatinous and are like overcooked spaghetti by now, you swing your leg across his body planting yourself on top of him. He’s hands find the thickest part of your thighs on instinct.

“You,” you kiss him soft, and then speak your words against his lips, “you are a bad boy.”

“So, punish me,” he smirks against yours.

“Okay,” you kiss him one last time, before sitting up and swinging your leg back over to him to reach for the passenger side door’s handle.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Eddie pathetically and embarassingly whimpers as your heat leaves his body, but not without a trace. The scent of your perfume consumes him. It lingers and teases him.

You appreciate the sentiment, but you can’t - not yet, “Eddie, if we’re going to do this. We’re going to do this correctly. We agreed to this.”

“Dates and romance,” Eddie recalls to himself more than to you. If this was any other girl, Eddie would have called off the relationship. The way he did things was fast and messy, and maybe that’s why he is the way he is. He hasn’t been serious about someone in a very long time. And, if you wanted to wait then that would be just fine with him.

“Good night, Eddie,” your kiss sears a permanent mark upon his lips. One that he will continue to think about later on in the night, and until next he sees you.

“Good night,” he says to you, as you leave out the car door.

Closing the car door behind you, Eddie is yet again left to himself to cool off the heat in his belly (and his jeans). This time he melts into the backseat of the car.

In the front seat, however, his driver adjusts his hands onto the steering wheel. He clears his throat, and finally peaks through the mirror at his frazzled employer.

“Home, sir?” Christopher speaks so formally, even after Eddie insists that he relax. They’re friends, or how Eddie likes to consider him. Perhaps he’s had enough clients before him, that Christopher remains professional to prevent stepping on any toes.

“Please, Christopher.”

-> <-

Gareth hugs a bowl of chips and is watching something on the television when Eddie comes home. It’s likely his party ended early and unsuccessfully, otherwise he would be in his bedroom with her by now.

The keys jangling the lock startle him only a moment because the sound of the keychain is familiar. It’s Eddie, of course, coming home from his date. This girl he’s been obsessed with - Gareth has never seen her and nor does he know her name. But, he can smell her on him. She marks her territory well.

Plus, Eddie’s flushed and floating around the house like a lovesick puppy.

By the state of his mis-buttoned top, and the deep shade of lipstick staining his neck, Gareth could only assume the date went well tonight. Whenever Gareth asks, Eddie shrugs him off or says he’s too tired to talk at that moment.

Gareth doesn’t care, and is determined more than ever to know who exactly his friend has been seeing. Such secrets could never hold up against his constant questions, and the wall Eddie’s built will eventually fall as Gareth chips away at the weaker points.

“Good evening?” Gareth’s shirt had risen, and a piece of popcorn sat happily in the dust of the boy’s bellybutton.

Eddie tosses his keys on the coffee table, before sinking into the chair beside the sofa. Really, sinking. The exhaustion hits firstly on his feet, and knees. Joining them, is his back. When did he get old enough to have joint pain?

“What are you watching?” Eddie aims the conversation elsewhere.

When Gareth sits upright, the popcorn that he’s been collecting falls onto the carpet beneath him. There was a time that he and Eddie shared everything, and when everything turned into virtually nothing Gareth silently worried that Eddie’s past might be biting again.

“How was your date?” He redirects back.

“Good,” Eddie one-words. “Is this the one with the huge explosion over the bridge?”

“What’s her name?”

“Turn it up?”

Gareth mutes the volume, “give me something, Munson. You’re drying me up.”

“You want me to get you wet?” Eddie scrunches his face at the thought.

“You know what I mean.”

“I- I don’t know-.”

“Eddie,” Gareth interjects, “you and I are the single men in this band. We had a pact. We’re supposed to be out on the town - living it up.”

“Gareth-,”

“You’re sinking on dry land!” Gareth emphasizes, “come on, man. Forget the girl, and let’s go out!”

Eddie snorts, “this - this isn’t just some girl. Okay? You’ll understand when the right woman turns your head.”

“Right woman? You sound like you’re getting married,” his friend anchors his hammer and chips hard at the hole he’s already made.

Another agreement, but this one’s a more silent pact, when the time comes that you and Eddie would sit down together with Gareth to tell him yourselves about the relationship. It was only right. Gareth asks too many questions for Eddie to ignore. Going to a club to play wingman? Not on Eddie’s to-do list anymore. That was fun for a time, but out of all the people Eddie’s been with you’re not one he’s going to mess around with.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” Eddie stands on his aching feet to head around the corner for his bedroom. “I’ll send you the invites.”

The wall begins to tumble, and Gareth drops back into his warm and cozy space on the couch. A confident smile curls onto his face.

-> <-

Eddie signs an autograph with a fan, and happily takes a photograph with her. She thanks you for taking the picture, and wishes you both a great day.

“Do you ever get use to it?” You walk beside him.

Warm wind kisses your cheeks, and dusts your arms while you slowly make your way around the pier. Seagulls fight over a meal left by someone just beside a trash can - because putting the food in the trash was clearly too much to handle.

The smell of the ocean isn’t something you’re used to. Actually, you didn’t know the ocean had a smell at all. The closest you came to the ocean was the lakeside, where Gareth kissed you. When you read about the ocean in your books, everyone always describes the smell as “salty,” but you would call it ‘freeing.’

All the problems in your day-to-day, roll off your shoulders as the waves hit the shore. You ingest the air like you’re breathing for the first time, and you’ve just won a million dollars. If you could, you would bottle the smell and save it for a rainy day.

And to think, Eddie gets this every day.

“What?” Eddie strolls along side you with his arms at his side.

You scoff at how normal taking pictures with random people has become to him, and he softens his furrowed brows.

“Oh,” he nods his head down at the wooden pier, “I guess I do. But, who knew? Right?”

This is very public for him and you to be out mid-day. But, as you hear a camera snap invasively around you in the distance, Eddie swears nothing will come of the images they print. He’s talked about your friendship in interviews. The relationship you share with the band, and how you’re practically the fifth member that they never see.

If you’re printed, you’ll hug a small column in a corner page and they’ll caption the image about Eddie hanging out with friends. You just have to play the part.

“I’m proud of you,” you wish you could pull his hand into yours as you say this, but the image would earn a larger spot in print. “Not just with the band, but you’ve become someone to look up too. You know? You could write this all down and sell life inspiring books if you wanted.”

Eddie’s turn to laugh at the idea of him writing, “I don’t have the writing gene.”

You stop in your tracks, “all the music you write? Come on.”

The boy twists and freezes at a safe distance in front of you, “that’s different.”

“You’re a story teller,” you encourage.

Eddie thinks, before he says, “I like your stories better.”

The afternoon gets warm enough that you and he decide to head to his home, only a short distance from the pier. You’ve yet to visit him there.

The furnishings were a lot warmer than his Indianapolis estate, but that was an entirely different time in his life. Not one of his favorites, and you don’t cross his boundaries. He’s not fond of looking back on that time.

Lower ceilings cozy up the home, despite the amount of bedrooms and bathrooms he has wrestled in here. You don’t want to imagine the cost, but the fact he has grass in his backyard says enough. You try to appreciate the decor - no doubt done by an interior decorator because Eddie’s idea of decorating is an old milk crate with a lamp on top - but, you are whisked into his arms as soon as the front door clicks shut.

Eddie spins you around to plant a searing kiss across your lips. One that burns, and begs for more. You’re considerably winded and wobbly at the knees.

Surprisingly, Eddie pulls away as though the smooch was only a soft peck and he drops his hands away from your back. He begins to walk to the sofa room to the right of the home, before turning on his heel.

“Do you want a tour?” Eddie offers.

You’re nearly stunned to the floor, and you don’t miss that sly smirk slapping across Eddie’s face. His brow kisses his hairline, and his gaze drops as you sway your way over to him because if he’s playing some sort of game with you then you’re playing harder.

If not for Gareth standing in the kitchen by the fridge with a glass of water, you might have just broken your rule about waiting. Eddie would kill him if he knew that.

“Hey!” Gareth beams ear-to-ear, “I didn’t know you were in town!”

Gareth places his glass onto the counter-top and rounds the center island. The sun has tanned his skin, and his hair. But, otherwise he still looks the same to you. The hug is familiar, and trying to be less awkward. As the years pass, you and he are still steadying on neutral ground.

That doesn’t mean that Eddie, who still hasn’t told his friend that the girl he’s seeing is the same one he had years ago, isn’t a tad bit thrown by your friendliness towards each other. He kind of misses the tension. Or, Eddie has just been caught with jealousy that he doesn’t like to admit out in the open.

As you explain to Gareth the need for a getaway weekend, you happen to be shifting around to the backyard. The tour that Eddie promises is now being taken over by his bandmate. He follows along in the background, while Gareth points to the lemon tree in the backyard. You pluck a couple in the promise to make them lemonade.

“Why doesn’t she stay in the spare bedroom?” Gareth suddenly turns to Eddie in midst of the tour.

There were two spare bedrooms on the property. Gareth took over one of them when he moved in. When his ex lived with him, the other spare room was converted to a closet and a glam space for her. It has since been renovated back into a serene space for the band to do some writing when they’re not working on extra projects. There’s a bed underneath the instruments, and Eddie wouldn’t hesitate to make room if you wanted to stay there instead of your motel room.

Yes, Eddie did insist he put you somewhere far more comfortable. You had told him the while the offer was kind, you could as easily get a motel for the weekend and then you could meet somewhere mutual for a couple of dates.

Perhaps, coming to the house today, you had other intentions. You’re letting yourself feel for the first time in a long time, and with someone you’ve known forever. The boldness you once felt in your gut is cut short by Gareth, who Eddie could have sworn wasn’t at the house when he left this morning. The boy is usually an early riser despite his slutty little habits when he’s out partying late. He resets with a hearty breakfast, and works out in the garage they’ve transformed halfway into a gym.

Usually, Eddie can hear him running on the treadmill. Not this morning, or so he thought. Eddie was quick to leave and quite floaty too. Can anyone blame him. He was on his way to see you!

“I did offer,” Eddie stumbles over his tongue trying to find reason for you not to stay at his home, rather than the motel you chose.

“I didn’t want to intrude,” you spare him. “You only have so much . . . space.”

“We have a lot of space,” Gareth snorts, “next time you’re in town, just stay with us. Alright?”

You peak at Eddie, before agreeing, "that's very generous. I'll consider it next time.

-> <-

[August 1994 . . . again]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Dearest readers,

It is with a heavy heart that I announce to you that I am completely burned out. At this time, I’m unable to bring you my creativity.

This has been a struggle for a long time now, and I just didn’t think it fair of me to not give you any answers. I understand that not all of the stories I’ve written are complete, but I’m leaving them up because I know there are quite a few of you that enjoy the work as is. The only work that is being removed is ‘Little’ Hopper. It will be in my drafts, so I can always come back to it.

Hopefully, in the future I can come back and finish my stories. But, for now, I must take a break.

I’m sorry, and I hope you can understand.

best,

baddie xo

[baddiewiththebook]

Dearest readers,

It took me terribly long to write the last installment of our characters. I just want everything to be perfect for them.

baddie xo

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 29

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

July 1994

Eddie gets off stage that night glowing with pride. Behind him, a cheering chorus begging the band to play just one more song. Jeff, Gareth and Freak surround him giving him the congratulations for returning back to the stage. They want to go out to celebrate, but Eddie will forgo the plans as he sees you finding your way backstage through the chaos of the crew and the mess of the stage pieces being taken apart.

“Hey, guys!” You greet the whole band, “you did great!”

Nancy and Robin, your backup team stands behind you. They too thought the concert was outstanding - Robin more than Nancy. Nancy prefers classical or the various pop artists that play on the radio. Her head is kind of pounding from all the noise, but she doesn’t disagree that the band has talent.

“Wow! What are you all doing here?” Jeff doesn’t mean this harshly. He’s happy to see you, and a wicked thought crosses his mind. He knows exactly why you’re here.

“Eddie flew us out for a girls trip,” you thought they would know that, but, in true Eddie fashion, he forgot to mention this to the boys.

Gareth was going to hound him later on in the evening because Eddie doesn’t spend much time in the hotel. New York is so large, and there are quite a few opportunities for him to slip up. He just didn’t want to see Eddie fall down a bad path again. Out of all the boys, Gareth is closest with Eddie. They even share a house together in Los Angeles. Before he was sober, there were nights that Gareth slid a mirror under Eddie’s nose when he wouldn’t wake up from all the shit he was putting in his body. Gareth does not want to see his best friend like that again.

So, he’s relieved when he finds out that during the night, Eddie snuck out to see you. That when he didn’t come home, Eddie was with you.

“It’s good to see you, guys!” Jeff replies, offering to take you out in the evening. “Do you want to come celebrate with us? We’re not scheduled to leave until tomorrow. So, we’re thinking about hitting up some local spots.”

“I’ll go!” Robin volunteers like this is a funky school trip.

Nancy declines the invitation. They’ll end up at a bar, or a club and that’s not much fun for her these days. Steve wouldn’t be too happy she’s there either. He’s calling her every second making sure she and their baby are enjoying their trip to New York.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to Eddie for a minute,” the boys know better than to stick around for that conversation, and they give you the space you need to take him away from the band.

Robin winks at you, and Nancy squeezes your arm and wishes you luck. The pair have hyped you up all evening to just come right out and tell Eddie how you feel. What you don’t know yet is that back at the hotel, Nancy has hired a private chef for the evening. She has high hopes for you.

There’s a quieter space in the back where hardly any crew are clustered, and the noise from the arena dies down a pinch. You have Eddie in front of you like any other time, but this time is different.

Eddie grasps your shaking hand rubbing his thumb along your knuckles, “hey, you alright?”

You nod your head, “yeah, uh . . .”

The inside walls of your mouth get clammy. This is a terrible idea. Whose idea was this? Blame Nancy and Robin. They were the ones to say; “the worst thing he could say is no.” And then what? The friendship gets all awkward until you slowly no longer speak to them, and you watch from afar as he gets married and has kids with some other woman . . . or man.

“What’s going on?” Eddie lets out a light airy laugh.

Watching you get all jittery, Eddie worries that something has gone terribly wrong. You can hardly look at his face. Did he overstep? Was this all too much?

“Okay, so - er- the thing is we’ve known each other for a long time,” a thought presses in your head just now that you’ve never asked out a guy. They always asked you for coffee or for dinner. Traditionalism. How did they do this so smoothly?

“We have,” Eddie licks his lips unsure where you’re going with this. A frown deepens his expression.

“I was wondering if you would have dinner with me?” You blurt out like ripping a wax strip off your leg.

Eddie’s hardened expression turns light, almost teasing with the smirk across his mouth, “sweetheart, are you asking me out on a date?”

The day he thought would never come. You care for him like he does for you? Woah, Eddie wouldn’t get too far ahead of himself here. This was one date. One date. You asked him out on a date.

Eddie’s all a flutter inside that he sort of doesn’t hear you talking. You’re rambling, of course, about your friendship and how silly this idea all was. That Robin and Nancy put ideas in your head that maybe you and he were bouncing around the obvious.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” he answers you finally.

Your heart skips inside your chest, “really?”

“Yeah,” he replies, “it’ll be fun.”

“Alright, yeah,” you copy him through all the nerves in your belly. “Do you want to meet me at the hotel - give me like an hour?”

“Sure,” he can’t wait to see what you have planned.

-> <-

Paul drops you off at the hotel after bobbing and weaving through the usual traffic. You were almost certain he would have scaled walls and buildings to get you back as efficiently and quickly as possible.

Nancy tells you in the elevator to stop shaking like a leaf. She’s planned ahead, and she’ll help set the mood while you change into something more date-like.

The time seems to fly by, but as the hour passes you begin to pace around the hotel room. Eddie is late, and you worry he’s had second thoughts. You messed everything up.

“Nancy,” you whine for a third time in the last twenty minutes.

Nancy rolls her eyes, “he’ll be here.”

Eddie feels terrible for making you wait so long for him - for the date, and for him being too cowardly to tell you how he really feels about you. When you asked him on a date, Eddie was doing cartwheels in his mind. He told the boys that he wouldn’t be coming out tonight because you wanted to hang out at the hotel. They all silently wondered to themselves if this could finally be the night that you and he could get this thing over with.

Before he could make a stop at your hotel, Eddie wants to shower and to change. The concert left him in a layer of sweat he blames on the hot lights, the energy of the concert, but mostly his damn hair. Because he is so late, Eddie stops at a flower shop and he has to check each petal to make sure nothing is wrong with them. He picks out your favorites, which you told him a long time ago in a rant about how some “peasant” didn’t even bother to bring you flowers when he pissed you off (It should be known that the “peasant” in question is not Gareth - he treated you with the most respect, but that’s not relevant anymore).

New York has the worst traffic to get through, and Eddie nearly climbs over the drivers seat to get him there himself. Truly, that would slow time down. His driver is as swift as can be, and he knows the ins and the outs of the city to be most proficient and private when he’s driving Eddie around.

Eddie finally makes it to your hotel around twenty minutes past when you agreed to be, and suddenly he’s terrified. This is really happening. And, he’s late.

He goes up the service elevator that all the employees would use. They don’t outwardly judge him because they can’t. It’s their job to pretend that having a person, who thinks they’re so damn important they can’t just use the proper elevator, isn’t odd. Maybe they really don’t care - yeah, Eddie suspects they don’t care at all.

When he wraps his hand into a fist to knock on the front door of your hotel room, he hesitates a moment. This is really real. This is happening. Does he smell okay? Eddie was sweating earlier when he couldn’t get through traffic fast enough. He sniffs under his arms. Woodsy. Clean. A bit too much on the cologne, perhaps.

“He’s here!” Nancy gasps from the other side of the door, before opening just a small gap between him and her. You’re somewhere in the room behind her. He just hasn’t seen you yet. Oh, he can’t wait to see you.

Eddie holds up the flowers as a bargain, “I’m sorry, traffic was crazy. But, I did bring her favorites.”

“Hm,” Nancy assesses.

Eddie’s heart thumps hearing your sweet voice come from inside the room, when you say;

“Nancy, quit torturing him.”

Nancy does one good look-over judging his hair, his outfit and his shoes. That stupid puppy love look resting on his face is the same one Steve gave her when they first met. This one’s going to be good, she says to herself. Moving herself out of the way to open the door fully, Eddie is taken aback by your beauty. Heaven is a long way to come just to see little ol’ him.

The girls took it upon themselves to take you shopping in the city earlier in the day. Nancy insisted you break her bank, and let her buy you something designer. But, you rejected her kind offer. Eddie already slid you some shopping money, which Nancy rolled her eyes at and bit her tongue. You already knew what she would say anyway. That man is in love with you.

You don’t know about love, but you do know the material of this dress is softer than anything you’ve bought back home. A simple enough black dress that reaches your knees, paired with a set of stockings and flats. You only chose the flats because you wanted to avoid the stomp - stomp - stomp from your heel.

“Hi,” you blush.

Eddie cradles the flowers, “hey.”

Nancy waits for a moment that she could slip out of the room, and Eddie could take her place. But the time doesn’t come. You two are playing a game of statues, and she has no idea who is winning.

“I’m going to go,” Nancy breaks the competition. “If you need me, I’ll be across the hall.”

Eddie meets Chef, as soon as he steps into the room. The gentleman has a few awards in the culinary world, and he’s proud to be serving the two of you this evening. He stays in the background, while you and Eddie get to know each other across the dining table while sharing a glass of fizzy water.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” your laughter is bubbly and sweet.

Eddie’s completely mesmerized by you. Your beauty, your charm and the way you carry yourself. There’s so much going on in his head that he nearly forgets to say anything out loud.

“We’ve known each other for how long?”

“Too long,” you joke with him, “I can remember when you grabbed that boy by the hair because you didn’t like how he was looking at me.”

“He was planning something!” Probably like putting the gum he was chewing on in your hair.

You spend the evening with him reminiscing on the old times, but also investing in time spent in the future. Eddie really wants you to travel more to find the inspiration you need to write a full novel. That’s your goal after all.

“A number one best seller,” you tell him after your story ends, “that feels like a long ways away.”

“Is that why you write everything down?” Eddie wipes his mouth, as the main course comes to a close. There’s no dessert planned, only a platter of fruit. Eddie has to ‘watch the sugar’ still.

You don’t really know the origin of why you would write so much stuff down in the journals you’ve kept piled around. Recently, you’ve been making moves to get a storage unit for how many you have.

“You never know when the mind will go,” you’re half joking, “I don’t know why I write everything down. It just feels right.”

Eddie nods at your answer, “will I get to see any of them?”

Eddie’s to blame for your earlier writings. All those notebooks he bought you for any occasion, or simply because he wanted too. He loved seeing you light up when you’re in the zone scribbling away at any chance you got. But, the one thing he never got to do is read any of it. No one has. They’re for your eyes only until you’re finished. And, you’re certainly not finished.

Dinner turns into a candle lit discussion about the future. Chef has left by now, so only you and Eddie sit across from each other. Your plates are empty, but your bellies are full and happy.

“I hope I can travel someday,” you sigh dreamily, “but, my job keeps me in Indianapolis.”

Eddie listens intensely because you hate that job so terribly much, and he wishes he could just scoop you up and rescue you. That’s not what you want though. You’re not sure what you want. One thing becomes very clear though. The distance you and he would have to travel is too intense.

“I should start washing the dishes,” the reality is setting in and you begin to hold back tears. This has been fun playing house with Eddie, but who are you kidding.

“This was fun,” Eddie tries desperately to lighten the darkening mood. Even the candle burns out. “Hey.”

You’re already standing on your feet when Eddie meets you halfway in front of you. The woodsy musk that never changes seeps deep into your lungs, and finds a way to cradle your heart beat. You’re better off as friends, you have to remind yourself.

“We’re okay, right?” You stare into those big chocolate eyes of his. Fine lines are beginning to set in the outer corner of his eyes.

Eddie holds you close by wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. A hug that he wishes could last a lifetime. He so desperately prays to any God that’s listening to let your paths cross one more time - give him that one last chance with you.

“Yeah,” he tries not to let you hear his voice shake, “we’re friends, always.”

“It’s better to do this now, than down the line when it’s too late,” you inhale the lining of his shirt under your nose wrapping your arms tightly around his back.

Pulling back from him, he catches your arms. Both of you know you have a choice. In any other situation, you would take a chance. This is Eddie though. You wouldn’t risk your friendship over this. The crush would fade, and both of you would laugh about this in the future. Right?

“We’re friends,” Eddie holds back anything else that he would have liked to say to you.

“Friends,” you agree.

Stepping away from him, you have a chance to fill your lungs with fresh air. The dishes won’t clean themselves, and you’re too humble to ask a housekeeper to do them. You balance the silverware on top of the plates, before taking them over to the sink.

The sink water running is the only noise breaking the silence between you and him. You see his shadow in the background come around with the glasses - or, so you thought.

Eddie stands so close to you that you could drown in his cologne. But, there’s something more. Something about his hot breath hitting the back of your neck sends shockwaves down your spine. You want to ask him what he’s doing. Or, even to tell him that this isn’t what friends do. The other part of you - the one that’s shouting and screaming - begs that he doesn’t stop. Throw caution out of that glass window in your room. You don’t care what the consequences are.

A heavy hand traces your forearm and up your bicep where he holds you there. He inhales the perfume you wear, smells the soap you used to wash your body tonight. You knew this was a possibility. You’ve probably even shaved. God, Eddie wants to drink you alive. He can feel himself growing against your rear, and you probably can too.

Eddie spins you around to face him, and takes no time to plant his lips firmly against yours. They move musically. You let a soft moan escape from your lips.

The kiss is short like dipping his toe into a pool of water. He searches your eyes for answers. Your puffy lips fall open without sound, aside from your shaken breath.

“‘M sorry,” he gulps, “we can go back to being friends.”

You repeat, “friends.”

Unsure who reaches for who first, your lips are back together in a fiery blaze. Eddie groans against your mouth, when you finally touch him. You touch his hands, his face and when you decide you need more then you slide your hands along his chest pulling at his shirt.

“Take this off,” you beg of him.

Eddie makes it about halfway over his head, before his silver necklace gets caught somewhere and his hair is all over the place.

“Shit,” he swears this could be a mood killer. “I guess I just really wanted to do this for a while. I got a bit excited.”

You help him squeeze out of the shirt with bubbling laughter filling the air, and flatten out his bangs before finding the rhythm again. God, he’s hot without clothes. You hike up your dress over your hips, and chew on your bottom lip pulling the material over your head.

“I guess I have too,” a sultry silk sweetens your voice in a way that Eddie’s never had the privilege of hearing.

“Jesus Christ,” your body is a work of art. A temple to be worshipped. “S-should we talk? I mean-,”

“Eddie,” you twist the hook behind your back, and let your bra fall to the floor, “I need you.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. Talking can wait until later. His lips attach onto yours, then trace against any part of exposed skin you’re showing off to him. Your neck is so sweet. The vibrations from your soft pillowy moans harden his cock underneath his jeans. He needs you too.

Dishes clatter and crash behind you, as Eddie lifts you onto the countertop with ease. Eddie slips between your legs again one hand touching your breast tenderly, and his mouth latching onto the other. His tongue swirls against your nipple.

You arch your back and cry to the heavens. Who knew your best friend’s tongue would have you fold into a pile of mush?

Eddie’s hands explore. Diving deeper into your pool, Eddie tears the tights you wore to shreds. You let out an erotic yelp, while Eddie drops down to his knees.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” Eddie laughs hotly over your clothed pussy, “let me take care of you.”

You’re at a loss for words. Signals fizzing and bubbling through your body like sparks pressing on your nerves. Electric waves pull through your veins. Your body is on fire, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Eddie lathers his fingers in his own spit, pulling your panties to the side with his free hand.

“Please, touch me. Holy-!” You ascend at his touch. Clearing the counter, you desperately grasp at the stone countertop holding you up. Hair. Head! You take hold of him there feasting like he’s never had a meal in his entire life.

Eddie’s tongue dashes across your clit like a roadmap. Taking path after path, you’re trembling under his hand. Letting his fingers glide across your slick hole, he pushes forward stretching your tight hole.

“You’re tight,” his chin and his lips glisten with spit, and with you. He looks at you through his lashes, “‘gotta stretch you out a bit.”

Eddie watches your chest heave up and down at every movement of his fingers pumping in your puffy pussy. His tongue hangs sweetly over your clit sending you over the edge. It’s been a while, he can assume by the way your thighs suffocate either side of his head. He could die between your thighs. He would be a happy man.

“Please, don’t stop,” your toes begin to curl, and your belly tightens. Eddie can feel that coil about to burst inside of you, you’re practically swallowing his hand.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he mouths over your dripping wet pussy. “I know you want too.”

The final push that sends you over the edge, and you orgasm harder than you ever have before. All the little boys you fooled around with before are no match for the master. Your skin is ablaze, tingling and trembling, when Eddie raises back to his feet to capture your lips in a kiss that shares the wealth. To Eddie, you taste so sweet that dessert won’t ever have to be on any menu ever again.

You’re all he needs. All he’ll ever need.

Eddie unbuckles his belt, and undoes the button to his jeans. He’s been waiting for you for years. There’s no time to waste with you. He’s waited so long to take a sip from your sweet nectar.

You’re a mess. Dizzy and spinning from your orgasm. The hold that Eddie has on your lower half is enough to send you into a coma. Bliss. Pure bliss.

“You sure?” Eddie’s eyes don’t leave yours.

“Yes,” your words muffle as you cover his mouth with short and sweet kisses, then bracing yourself on the counter with your legs spread wide for him.

This may not have been the plan. Him taking you on a countertop. All those years. Those long, long, long years.

With his name falling from your mouth, Eddie guides himself along your wet slit wanting you to beg a little more. Plead for him. When you do, he takes his time guiding the head of his cock into your wanting hole.

“Shit,” he groans into the crook of your neck, “you’re sucking me in. ‘Such a tight pussy.”

“Fuck - fuck me,” you slur your words almost drunkenly. “Oh, my God. Your cock is so big!”

You place your lips back to his, and he grunts out a delicious noise that you drink in the back of your throat. Eddie begins to thrust slowly at first, but speeding up as you adjust to the size of his cock. Christ, his cock is fat!

“You really know how to- fuck- how to make a man melt, baby,” the nickname spills from his lips without much thought.

“Jesus,” you cry out too stimulated to use your brain, “harder - faster!”

Eddie’s glossy expression blackens. You have no idea what you’re asking from him, and he thrusts forward at a blistering pace. Gripping the meat of your thighs, he yanks you closer to get a better angle to get deeper deeper inside of you. Your gummy walls suck in his cock like a hot sleeve.

God, he’s like a fucking virgin teenager. His core tightens, as he closes in on his peak. No, Eddie’s holding off because he wants you to cum again and again. He’ll do anything to se the flushed cloudy look on your face again.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groans.

In his hands, he can feel your legs tremble. He knows you’re close. The noises you make a are sinful. Delicious, even. He brings you close to him by taking a hand to the back of your head and pulling you forward. You’re dripping in sex. Hot skin against skin.

“I’m so close,” you can taste it.

Eddie says one final word. One word to make you come undone, “cum.”

Pounding you into pure thought melting pleasure, you moan loudly. Spewing curses. Spilling yourself onto him. The slick slapping of his thighs to yours grows achingly slower, and Eddie pulls out to spill all over your stomach.

“You okay?” Eddie asks between catching his breath and finding a kitchen towel he can use to help clean you up. A paper towel will do for now, and he gently wipes away his mess.

You look around the room. What a mess. Your belly shakes, while you laugh and Eddie looks to you in case he’s done something wrong.

“I’m good,” your words are slow in post erotic bliss. “We should clean this place up though.”

Eddie tosses the towel away, and slots himself between your legs, once again, trapping you from going anywhere. You wrap your hands around his neck, your legs around his lower half - you like where this is headed.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted our first time to be,” he admits with a flush to his cheeks. Lifting you by your thighs, he aims for the bedroom.

“Really?”

“Well,” his tone is short and suggestive, “I guess we skipped a few steps. But, er- I think we both know what we want.”

“We can talk in the morning,” you suggest.

“Good,” you squeal as he tosses you backwards onto the fluffy bed, “because I’m not done with you.”

You giggle, “me either.”

-> <-

Breakfast comes at a startling fast pace. It’s too early for the sun to rise, yet Eddie and yourself are awake. You admit that the first hour you two were awake was spent in bed exploring each other - touching skin to skin. But, you really should talk about what this all means. You insisted that Eddie order breakfast instead of him drowning between your legs. Although, you can’t complain with how many orgasms you’ve had this morning.

You sit across from him sharing one last meal, before you have to pack to leave back to Indianapolis.

“I’ll be in Los Angeles for a few months after this doing interviews and promotions. The boys and I want to focus on writing new stuff for the next concert here soon. You should come,” and before you can tell Eddie that you can’t get time off, he offers his grand solution, “I’ll call your boss myself, and tell him you have to have the days off.”

You snort, “I cannot have my boyfriend fighting all of my battles for me.”

Eddie stops chewing the moment the words leave your mouth, but you’re too embarrassed to face him. Hiding behind a glass of orange juice, Eddie’s smirk grows wider and he sits back in his chair waiting for you to say something.

“I just meant-,” you buy time by swallowing a gulp of juice.

Eddie interjects, “I like where your head is going.”

“We’ve only had one date,” you wipe your mouth with your napkin, “that was an incredible date.”

“We kind of jumbled the steps,” he winks at you, “but, I’m not complaining.”

Eddie’s happy that he gets to flirt with you more openly. You giggle and fold each time he throws a lame punchline your way.

“I would like to come see you in L.A.,” you sigh, “what about your fans? You met me in here the whole weekend, but I want to go out with you.”

“I’ll book us a private room for dinner,” he promises like it’s that easy.

“A private room?” You cock your eyebrow, “you’re renting out a restaurant?

“I’m not renting out the whole restaurant,” he implies like what he’s doing is costing him any less, “but, you know like a private room in the back.”

“They have those?” You sound so shocked.

“For a certain clientele,” he fakes a posh accent.

You go for a sharp rebuttal, but the conversation is cut thin by a knock at the front door. The girls are on the other side just bouncing with energy. They’ll probably want to know how your date went.

The date that’s sitting across from you wearing the same exact outfit he was the previous night. You turn to Eddie to see how he wants to play this out.

“I’d sneak through the window, but that’s a pretty serious drop,” he jokes with you.

You shake your head with faux irritation, “they’re going to know once they see you - at least, Nancy will.”

Robin’s not as observant outside that head of hers, although she’s a key investigator with Nancy or Steve by her side. Sometimes you think they ought to just adopt her by the way she’s usually around one or the other person in the coupling. She’s been a great practice child for them, along with the younger crowd of friends that Steve gathered when they were all younger. They’d play that silly game with Eddie, and they’d take advantage of Steve’s smooth ride after the meetings - or whenever they wanted to get around town and Steve isn’t one to say no to their soft childish eyes.

The knocking at your door persists, and you rise up in your seat to answer the door. Unsure what you’ll say once you open the door, you’ll let the words come naturally. Eddie will follow along with your plan. At least, the two of you cleaned the kitchen in the morning otherwise the evidence would be even clearer than the hotel windows that give you the greatest view of New York.

Nancy is already packed, and ready to go bright and early this morning. The flight isn’t for a few hours, but she’s checked off everything in her mind to make sure she doesn’t forget one thing. Robin still hasn’t put together all of her things. She’s also got a mental checklist, but her list is about as good as a sheet of paper after it gets wet.

“Good morning,” Nancy’s tone is full of hope, as soon as you pull the front door open. She scans the room, and at first misses Eddie behind you.

Robin towers behind her pressing into her back to get a good look past Nancy. Last night, Robin came home to hear all about the date from her perspective. Eddie even brought you flowers!

“Good morning, ladies,” you exchange small pleasantries, before they hear a chair scoot behind you.

You’re sure if Eddie hadn’t gotten fidgety waiting for you to finish the conversation, or to ‘shoo’ the girls out of the hotel room, that neither of them would have paid attention to the man behind you. But the noise startles them to rescan the room, and they share a noise that’s somewhat between a squeal and a giggle. There’s no getting rid of them now.

They rapid fire questions at you - not sparing any detail as too much information. You let them run until they’re out of breath, before you can get a word in. Or, Eddie for that matter, who does have to get back to his bandmates because they also have a flight to catch.

“I’ll call you later,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “okay?”

“Have a safe flight,” you say as he passes Nancy and Robin to get in the hallway.

“You too,” he replies, “all of you.”

“Thanks for everything, Eddie,” Robin wiggles her fingertips at him that one might mistake for flirting if her being gay wasn’t obvious to the friend group.

“Bye, Robin,” he faux flirts back.

-> <-

[August 1994]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 28

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

June 1994

Holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder, you can’t help but let out a high pitched laugh. Something Eddie says tickles you from the other end of the line. You pop another piece of chicken breast into your mouth. Juicy and cooked to perfection.

“How’s New York?”

You’re trying to keep up in the conversation. But, Eddie notes the strain in your voice. Work must have you exhausted. No matter how many times Eddie suggests looking elsewhere for work, the nerves about meeting a whole new group of people, and interviewing for the position has you stuck in the same lousy job. Your boss doesn’t value your skills, and that’s easy for anyone to see. Eddie listens to you hammer on about all the meaningless tasks the old traditionalist has you doing. He’s truly shocked that your boss doesn’t ask you to lick his boots clean. What a jerk!

Eddie lays spread out on a soft mattress in a New York hotel. While the city is outside, he can still hear faint honking coming from the city streets. Nicole, his assistant, brought him dinner. When Eddie told her “surprise me,” he hoped she would bring him something decent. Nicole doesn’t do well without being told exactly what to do, but that’s only because she wants to do everything exactly how Eddie wants things to be done. She’s always on time, and follows direct orders so he’s not upset by her at all. If anything, he feels quite bad she doesn’t really share her personality with him. Sometimes he feels like he’s talking to a well-trained concrete stone.

The hamburger and fries will go down smoothly, but he sure wishes he could drink something other than water. His manager wants him to watch the sugar. Bullshit.

It’s strange to be staring at an empty dining chair across from you. Normally, Eddie would occupy the space and you could watch him devour your food while praising your cooking skills. He’d joke about the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. That would give you butterflies - the kind that leave you awfully warm.

After the wedding, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Grant all caught the same flight out to New York. There was a lot of promotions and practices to do, before they perform. The first rehearsal back with the boys, Eddie clipped a soundbox sending him tumbling across the stage. Albeit embarrassed, Eddie got up on his two feet to continue the rehearsal.

Eddie calls you up nightly because he misses your cooking, but more importantly he misses you. The way you hide your face when he gives you a compliment. You’re too shy to enjoy the moment. Or, the way the soft light above you makes your face glow. He loves how pillowy your cheeks are and the little dimple you get when you smile.

“I haven’t gotten to see much of the city, but er- the arena is nice,” he inspects the hamburger closer in case there are pickles contaminating the sandwich, “the hotel they have us locked up in is cozy.”

The team and the band have taken over nearly a floor of hotel rooms. A couple connecting rooms makes sleeping near each other less aggravating. Gareth is laying flat in his bed next to Eddie, but he’s not asleep - more like meditating. He knows that Eddie is calling you each night, but he’s not going to acknowledge the obvious. He’s not going to be a jealous ex-boyfriend.

“Hm,” you’re not going to be able to keep up with this conversation tonight, or so that’s how Eddie sees it. So, he must deter the conversation quickly.

“How’s Indianapolis?”

“Wouldn’t know,” you’re half joking, but the workload that your boss throws at you is absurd. You’re not a trained monkey with fifteen arms! “My boss has me reorganizing the file cabinets again, and on the off-chance I have a spare moment he’s having me fetch coffee from the break room.”

At it again, your boss is treating you like garbage. Eddie won’t suggest you get a new job again. You’re already exhausted and the last thing you need is another man bossing you around. For now, he will just listen to your complaints.

Eddie clicks his tongue to his teeth, “you don’t deserve that. You’re a skilled writer. Don’t they have anything you can do besides run errands?”

“Look pretty.”

“Well, you have no problems there.”

You stop chewing abruptly. The line goes dead a moment. Behind the phone, you’re trying not to smile too deeply that you can hear it in your voice. Eddie always knows what to say to you without even a second thought. There’s no filter on his mouth. You hold your tongue trying not to go there.

“You still there?” Eddie chews on a fistful of fries unknowing that what he’s said had such an impact on you. The beauty of telephone lines is you can act like an idiot and the other person can’t see you.

“Yeah,” you say after a moment to yourself, “I think I need a vacation.”

A vacation isn’t really in your financial bracket. Even after graduating college, you never took a break. Steve helped you get a job at the same company he works for, and now you’re able to pay your rent and buy groceries. There’s no space for a vacation, but one can dream.

“Come to New York,” Eddie insists as though it is that easy for you to pick up and go. “I’ll hook you up with a nice hotel, and a driver to take you around town.”

That sounds awfully nice, but awfully expensive. Eddie has money to share. You can’t help, but think you’re biting more than you can chew with the Munsons. You can’t keep living off of their expenses.

“Eddie, don’t go wasting your money on me,” your fingers wrap around the necklace he gave you that never leaves your body. “Besides, I have to work.”

“When is the last time you took a vacation?”

Your silence on the matter makes Eddie’s point all the more evident. Vacations aren’t your thing. Even when you have a moment to yourself, you’re doing laundry or scrubbing the apartment over and over again.

“One weekend,” Eddie insists, “it’s my first show in two years. I need you there.”

Need. A strong interpretation that Eddie might fail or die on stage if you’re not there. He might as well. You’re his muse. Something he’s never shared explicitly with you. What would a return to fame be without you?

New York City in the summertime. You can only imagine all the things you can do. Day and night - the city never sleeps. Also, the neck cramps you receive holding your phone up to your ear hours on end do get old. It would be nice to support Eddie in person. You get to see him deep in his element amongst hundreds - no, thousands - of screaming and adoring fans.

“Alright,” you cave. “Alright, I’ll come.”

Eddie celebrates on the other line sending you into a fit of bubbly laughter.

-> <-

July 1994

Flight has to be your new favorite way to travel. The less time you spend on the road with angry drivers honking and cursing at you for obaying road signs the better you feel. You’re flown in first class. A champagne flute garnished with a raspberry is first passed to you in your private seat, along with comfortable offerings like a blanket, a neck pillow and an eye mask. You sip your champagne, eat the raspberry and tip your seat back for a nap.

A private driver awaits for your arrival in New York waving a sign with your name written across it in thick black ink.

The man introduces himself as Paul, and he will be here for you all weekend long. At any time, you can ring for him and he will pick you up to take you anywhere within the city limits. He doesn’t allow you to wheel your luggage, but rather insists he do that for you while you keep pace as he takes you outside the terminal into the parking lot.

A four door sedan awaits for you there. Paul opens the back door for you to slide into the leather seats. Holy shit!

Paul pops the trunk open to lift your suitcases inside, while you celebrate embarrassingly in the backseat. This is like the movies! Oh, you cannot wait to call Robin. She’ll absolutely die!

Paul shuts the trunk, and rounds his way around to the front of the car to hop into the drivers seat. The agenda is up to you, aside from this first trip where he’s given strict instructions to see that you are comfortable in your hotel room.

He drives like a professional through the bustling New York City streets. Paul’s a bit unforgiving and rash, and yet you’re unbothered in the back seat. You’re staring out at the people in their every day lives going to work, shopping, jogging - whatever really.

The skyscrapers are even bigger in person. They swallow you into a sea of concrete, bricks and bright flashy lights. Flashy is a word for the buildings and for some of the people you see. In broad daylight, a woman stands at a flower shop wearing a fur coat. You wonder if it’s real.

Tilting your head up to see if you could see the sky from here, you see a huge billboard sign that advertises Corroded Coffin playing live tomorrow night in the city. Man, a few years ago no one would believe Eddie Munson would turn into something big like this.

Jason Carver is probably seething right now. Rumor has it, he’s knocked up a senior back at Hawkins High. So much for his gym teaching career.

“My dear,” Paul catches your attention. “We have arrived.”

This has to be a joke! You’re staring at the most glamorous building you’ve ever seen. White-gold lights surround the exterior of the hotel lighting up the brick. Red carpet trails up the stairs into the lobby.

Eddie Munson, what have you done?!

You stick out like a sore thumb in your jeans and a t-shirt compared to the well-dressed madam that just waltzed into the front door with her nose high above her custom fitted coat and designer heels.

“Oh, my-.”

Paul opens your door once again, and holds out a hand to help you step from the car onto New York streets. The air is thick with the stink of petroleum and city air. Too many people for this massive city.

You still can’t believe you’re actually here living in a freaking movie.

Paul hands you a business card and provides strict instructions to call the number written on the back when you’re ready to travel around the city.

“Thank you,” you wave goodbye for now.

Taking yourself and your luggage into the hotel, you’re overwhelmed at how on earth you got this opportunity. How could Eddie do all of this for you?

Everyone here was pressed by an iron, no wrinkles or creases in their attire or their attention to detail about the entire hotel. The lobby doesn’t have a speck of dirt or crumbs across the furniture or the floor. Someone must wait behind the large pillars with a dust pan waiting for that crumb to fall.

Checking in was a breeze. A form of identification from you, and a secret alias that Eddie told you the reservation would be under. The staff stare at you like a queen. It’s strange, but you could get used to being pampered like this.

The elevator is staff operated, and the operator is pleasant with minimal conversation. He wishes you a pleasant stay and to have a wonderful day as you get to your floor. The top floor.

Everything is so gold and shiny. Is it real? No, it can’t be real. This has to be painted on or - or - it just cannot be real!

With a click from your hotel key, your room is unlocked and room it is. This is a damn house inside of a hotel! There are rooms. Kitchen. Dining. Living. Bedroom. Bathroom.

“Holy shit!” You’ve repeated the phrase so many times already today. “Holy shit! Holy-,”

“I hope you like the room,” Eddie peaks around the corner from the kitchen.

“Eddie!” Your face turns beet red, “Oh my god!”

“I let myself in - hope you don’t - oof!”

You charge at him in full speed to give him the tightest hug you could. This is all too much - it’s all too Eddie. The most giving man you know.

“I love it!”

-> <-

The boys went out into the city tonight despite their managers request that they stay in and rest because they have a huge day tomorrow. All of the boys, except one.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you anywhere,” Eddie fiddles with silky fabric from your nightshirt. It’s just one of the rules. At any time someone could see you. Make assumptions. They’d write pages of your life just because you spent five minutes with your best friend sharing a bagel with cream cheese.

You’re resting with your head on his lap barely staying awake. Travel can do that to a person, but also Eddie is just so warm. He’s always been a personal heater.

“It’s fine,” you yawn, “I’m glad I get to spend some time with you before your big show. Are you ready?”

Eddie catches your yawn, and says, “as ready as I can be. I’m just so nervous. What if- what if they don’t like me anymore?”

You flip over to your back, so that you’re looking right up at him now. A funny angle that makes his nose look huge.

“How could they not like you anymore?” You blink.

“Music changes every day,” he shrugs.

“Your music is going to last an eternity,” you say with the most confidence, “next stop - rock and roll hall of fame.”

Eddie raises his eyebrow, “you really think that?”

“‘Course. You’re the best singer in the world.”

Aside from the movie that you two have been watching, the room goes into a thoughtful silence. This is the first time you and Eddie have gotten to spend time together in months. He’s been so busy with getting ready to perform that he hasn’t gotten more than a few phone calls to share with you.

You get comfortable on his lap again, rolling away to face the television. Eddie catches the blanket from falling off your hip and tucks you back in. The ceiling light casts over your face catching all the markings across your skin that you’ve earned gracefully as you cross your late twenties. God, that means he’s known you for nearly the same amount of years. How could the time have gone by already?

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie watches you closely as your lashes flutter. You’ve had such a long day getting to the city to see him. To see his band. He can’t imagine you’re here just for him. That’s just silly.

Eddie should be going back to his own hotel soon, but he just can’t part with you. This is some of his only time with you, and if that means he gets chewed out by his managers then so be it.

You inhale deeply reawakening yourself trying desperately not to miss a moment with Eddie. It would all end soon, and he’d go back to his busy life as a superstar. You can’t wait to read all the papers and cut out little stories you find just golden.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” Eddie brushes his knuckles across your cheek.

You stretch your feet out, “not yet. I’m going to pee.”

An excuse to get you to stand to move around, before you crash. You want to finish the movie at least. There isn’t more than ten minutes, so by the time you come back around the film has wrapped up. You got distracted brushing your teeth and applying a fair amount of chapstick to your dry lips.

Eddie stretches his arms over his head, cracking a few much needed spots in between his knuckles and his sore back.

“Do you have to go back tonight?” You feel silly asking him to stay.

“No,” he fibs. “I can stay if you want.”

The pair of you put the hotel room to bed, along with yourselves as you retire to the bedroom where a king sized bed awaits you.

There are no springs jabbing at your stomach when you roll over, and no mysterious stains. It’s not like the trailer when you would spend the night. And, there’s so much more room to spread out. Yet, you find yourself right next to Eddie with his fingers drawing little circles across your arm.

“That tickles,” you snicker.

“Oh,” he stops his mindless fidgeting, “I didn’t know.”

“Good night, Eddie,” you prop your head onto his chest, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he kisses the top of your head.

-> <-

God, Eddie snores like an oncoming train about to hit a deer. You have got to untangle yourself to use the bathroom, but the sun hasn’t even awoken yet this morning. The world is still dark and asleep despite Eddie’s snores that could win an Olympic gold medal.

You press your head into his chest accepting your fate that you won’t do much good trying to weasel out of his hold. Eddie subconsciously rubs your back trying to get you to settle. You know, he smells quite musky in the morning. A bit damp and warm. But, that could be from you clinging to him all night.

When you were both younger, he was the bed hog. Although, the bed you shared back then was an old twin. This is a king, and you can say that now you’ve become the opposite. Behind you is miles of open space untouched.

An old twin to the mattress of kings! The mattress shapes to your body, letting you sink further into feathery bliss. Not to mention the sheets are silky and cooling. You might be able to fall asleep again.

Eddie makes a particular move that stirs you, before you can get to dream land again. He straightens his leg out exposing the front of his body. He pokes you.

Okay, so - he’s hard. That happens in the morning for men. It’s large - er, normal! Man, you really have to pee.

Wriggling one more time, Eddie lets you slide away from his hold. He turns onto his back where even through the night, you can see a well-pitched tent in the blankets.

Stepping into the bathroom, you refresh yourself by using the toilet, washing your hands, brushing your teeth, lathering some deodorant under each arm and spraying perfume directly on your skin. Thinking you could just slid back into bed with him and pretend you didn’t see anything was an interrupted plan.

“Hello?”

Someone’s in your hotel room? You listen out because maybe Eddie’s talking in his sleep. But, the voice is far too feminine and away from the bedroom.

“Helloooooo!”

Shut up.

“Are you still sleeping?! I’ll jump on your corpse and wake you from the dead!”

It’s Robin!

“Robin!” You yell at the top of your lungs, probably waking Eddie. But, you race around the suite to get to her at the front door anyway. “Robin!”

Robin nearly bumps into you head-on trying to get a hug from you. The two of you bounce up and down spewing incoherently at each other. Mostly about New York, or how did she get here? You’re just happy she could be here.

“How are you?” Robin steps back to stare up at the high ceilings, “Jesus, this place is huge. Hello!!”

“Robin,” you jerk your head towards the bedroom a moment remembering Eddie’s still sleeping - probably. “Sh!”

“You haven’t been in New York for more than a few hours, and you’re already hooking up?” She shimmies your shoulders, “I’m so proud of you!”

“No, Robin-,”

In all of your madness, Eddie did wake up to the sounds of your girlish yapping and squealing. Robin must be here, which means Nancy is close behind. He didn’t tell you because he wanted to leave you a surprise. Since he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you and take you to all the touristy spots in New York, he wanted someone too. He flew Nancy and Robin out - a girls trip.

Judging by the noise level, Nancy just made her grand entrance. Eddie should get out of here soon, so you three can chatter away and explore the city. He’s also very late for promotions and the last soundcheck.

Eddie makes a grand appearance in the front hallway with the girls. Sleep sits behind his eyes, although this was one of the better night’s rest that he’s gotten. Hair bunched up despite his sad attempt at wetting down the matted tangles. He put his jeans back on, so that he’s fully dressed in front of you all. But that doesn’t stop Robin from being accusatory.

“Eddie?” Robin sounds both astonished at the sight, but proud of what she sees because in her mind you both are stubborn as mules. If she could just get you two alone, and really talk about your feelings then maybe some good could come from it. She has her hopes.

“Robin,” you insist on swaying her to see your way in the matter. “He just spent the night.”

Robin doesn’t say anything out loud, but her face speaks volumes. Later, she’ll corner you with all sorts of questions implying you must see a bigger picture.

Nancy pants behind you, whilst cradling her cramping belly. Traveling is a bit more difficult when you’re pregnant. She’s so early into her first pregnancy, so every little thing about her body sends her into a shock that Steve can usually manage to calm her down. He’s only a phone call away, but Nancy is sure she can handle this.

“Thanks for everything, Eddie,” she smiles through her pain. “I can’t wait to go into the city!”

“Yeah, and your concert is going to be insane!” Robin claps.

“No, problem,” he replies, while heading to the front door, “I should get going though. I’m pretty late. I’ll catch you girls later.”

Robin takes Nancy to the living room couch to have her sit down a moment. They’re busy in their own conversation about the room being larger than any house they’ve ever seen, while you sneak away to follow Eddie into the hallway.

“Eddie,” your voice flies down the hallway.

Eddie turns on his heel, “everything okay?”

You bound over, “you brought my friend’s here?”

“Yeah, I hope that was okay.”

Eddie Munson, the man who thought of everything and more. Your heart begins to pump a little harder every time you’re next to him. Something deep within you warns you that nothing will be the same if you take that leap. You have the perfect bond that takes years of trust and faith between you two. That leap could mess everything up.

Instead of leaping into his arms, and kissing his face like you so wish you could. You reply to him calmly;

“Everything is wonderful.”

Eddie’s lips curl up into a soft smile, and he grabs your head from either side to plant a gentle kiss on top. He leans in to give you a hug, while rubbing your back along the way. You shiver at his touch, and watch him dance down the hallway like Eddie would do.

“I’ll see you later!” He calls-out behind him.

“See you, later.”

Squeezing your eyes shut a minute, you ground yourself back on earth where reality is. You return to your hotel room where Nancy is trying to explain to Robin that pregnancy is beautiful, but Robin disagrees and insists Nancy is growing some sort of alien.

You direct the conversation just by your being there.

Robin, the instigator, begins, “how’s Eddie?”

Nancy nods in excitement.

“Eddie’s fine,” you round the couch and plop down a bit too harshly, and sigh a bit too dramatically. “Very fine.”

“She admits it!” Robin accuses with the point of her finger.

Nancy, the lesser dramatic of the two, offers a word of suggestion, “why don’t you just ask him out?”

Your eyes nearly pop from your skull, “ask Eddie Munson out? You’re kidding right? He’s got chicks hanging off of his arms. He probably only sees me as his dorky little friend.”

“First of all, dorky can get into a pair of underwear and strut down the runway these days,” Nancy shakes her head at Robin’s pointless example, but never the less she doesn’t interject, “you and Eddie have know each other for years. You know what that gets you? A foundation.”

You stare at her.

“A foundation,” she repeats, “the basis for a solid relationship. Your best friends. That’s like everyone’s wet dream, before they get into a relationship with someone.”

“I don’t want to hear about your wet dreams, Robin,” you reply totally unconvinced.

Nancy snorts, “she just means that being friends with someone first can go along way in a romantic relationship.”

“Or, I could be the creepy friend that has a crush on someone that doesn’t like me back,” you sink further into dispare, which is quite comfortable - these couches are marvelous.

Nancy and Robin both howl with laughter. You must have missed out on the joke, and you glare at them until they control themselves enough to let you in on their little “joke.”

“Are you kidding?” Nancy can’t believe what she’s hearing from you, “I’ve known you and Munson the shortest amount of time, but all of this?” - She makes a large circle with her pointer finger to emphasize the mass of the room, and the three of you in it - “Not only did he pay for your ticket, he paid for us to come out here, he paid for a driver, he paid two hotel rooms, he paid for a private room for us to see the concert in peace tomorrow - shit, he’ll probably find a way to give you money to go on a shopping spree if he hasn’t already. That man is in love with you.”

Robin fans Nancy with a decorative pillow, as she leans back to catch her breath.

“What she said,” Robin seconds.

You can see where they’re coming from, and maybe you’ve been a bit blind when your other friends have been nudging you towards Eddie. The fact is you both have known each other nearly your whole lives. You’ve been there through thick and through thin. It’s not his money that you’re after, you really don’t care about that. If anything you wish he wouldn’t splurge so much to make you happy that his bank account drains completely.

“What can I do?” You lick your lips, “I have a job-.”

“A job,” Robin interjects, “that’s not a career for you. And, I know how badly your boss treats you.”

“He treats Steve like shit too,” Nancy agrees with her, “he might have found a higher position at a different company.”

“Really?” Robin finds herself distracted.

“Girls,” you say selfishly. “What if Eddie and I don’t work out? They say that this sort of stuff changes a relationship. Like- what if we have sex.”

“I’ll be needed all the details,” Robin bats her lashes at you.

Nancy nudges her.

“What? I’m nosy!”

“I know you are,” she replies to her, and adds quietly, “don’t forget to call me up and let me know too.”

“Oh, my god!” You groan, “you two aren’t helping!”

“Hear me out,” Robin directs toward Nancy, “do you think all that confidence is a man well-endowed.”

Nancy furrows her brows, “he was quite cocky in high school.”

“Pun intended?”

“I didn’t even catch that,” Nancy snickers, “I’d say he’s at least healthy.”

“Yes, he’s big. Can we move on please?”

The two crane their neck at this.

“We’re going to need some clarity on this,” Robin speaks first.

Nancy places her order second, “yes, indeed. Tell us what you know.”

This conversation isn’t going anywhere. These two bloodhounds were going to sniff out any information they sought. If you had just kept your mouth shut, instead of blurting out the first thing that came to mind you wouldn’t be in this situation!

“Oh, God,” you curse again knowing you’re going to have to tell them about this morning, “when we woke up this morning he was -,” they stare at you knowingly, but they want you to say it, “he was hard. I didn’t see anything under the blankets, but he’s big.”

Nancy uses her fingers as a means of measurement, “how big?”

“This really isn’t helping me, girls,” your sad attempt at moving the conversation along.

“He’s got a third leg,” Robin gasps.

“Is that why he flunked? All the blood rushed to his-,”

“Girls!”

-> <-

[July 1994]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 27

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

Thank you so much for your patience, while I rewrote a couple of chapters, xo baddie

-> <-

July 1992

Eddie Munson was arrested this morning on suspicion of domestic violence against his girlfriend Hazel Heart. According to our sources, Munson was seen fleeing from his home in Indianapolis, Indiana covered in blood. Police caught up with him at an undisclosed apartment where they arrested him without resistance.

- Pebble Magazine

“What do you mean Eddie’s got himself arrested?!” Gareth’s voice booms through your apartment.

The only person you could reach at this hour in the morning just happened to be Gareth, who was staying with his dad on the other side of town. Time-zones kept him awake, after touring half the damn States. His brain is scrambled. And now this?!

“I don’t know!” You yell back at him. “The cops just came and - and -.”

“And?!”

“Gareth,” you hound. “I’m scared too! Okay?! He came here late last night all bruised up.”

Gareth curses, “fucking shit! I knew they were fighting again!”

“Again?!”

“Don’t start with me,” he points an angry finger your way, “we have to meet him at the jail. Come on!”

-> <-

October 1992

A new development in court today for Eddie Munson. Sources claim that the case has been thrown out. Where will this lead our rockstar next?

- Pebble Magazine

The steps down the courtroom are much more difficult to get across with a thousand screaming fans supporting Eddie. Your voice is lost in the noise with a couple of people throwing glares your way, accusing you of being much more special than the rest of them.

Reporters gather at the front flashing photos of the rockstar leaving the courtroom that afternoon. A new development in his case has completely flipped the claims upside down, and the charges were dismissed.

Eddie hangs his head as he lowers himself enjoy to get in the back of a black van driven by someone on his team. You watch from afar as they push through the crowd of people banging on the windows, and holding out their signs that they decorated the night before.

-> <-

January 1993

Corroded Coffin is set to go on tour without their frontman Eddie Munson, as the singer seeks treatment for his addiction to alcohol and drugs.

- Pebble Magazine

The facility is a lot less medical than Eddie expected. He thought there might be four walls towering over him and someone racing out the front door ready to lock him in a padded room. But, this place is like a really large house. Grassy fields surround him in nature. The air smells crisp, despite the chill of winter boxing him in.

“Are you ready?” Your voice is soft and careful.

Eddie trembles beside you in the car, “y-yeah.”

Truthfully, his last drink was a few hours ago, before you picked him up. That euphoric numb tingling in his body is already sweating from him. You pretend not to mind the smell, but Eddie knows how bad he’s gotten. That’s what got him here, didn’t it?

If it wasn’t for his bandmates, his uncle - shit, if not for you - Eddie holds the hand written notes close to his chest. They probably won’t let him take them with him, but maybe they’ll keep them safe.

“Everything is going to be okay,” you were the one Eddie asked to drop him off.

“R-right,” Eddie opens the passenger side door his sweat clings the cold to his body. “H-hey.”

You hum.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie.”

-> <-

April 1993

Eddie Munson comes home from rehab today - see below for photographs.

- Pebble Magazine

“Eddie!”

“Hey, you!” Eddie picks you up into his arms and holds you tightly. You smell fresh like clean linen and sweet perfume. God, he has missed you.

Eddie puts you back on the ground again, so he can have a better look at you. Not much has changed in the past three months.

The same couldn’t be said for Eddie. A bit of weight around his middle and his face. He’s bulked up in his arms.

You blush for staring too long, “can I get you something to eat?”

“Please,” he pats his stomach, “the food here is so bland and so green.”

-> <-

June 1993

“My uncle’s moving in with Claudia,” Eddie chows down on the salad you put together. Something you never thought you would see from Eddie - eating healthy. Wild!

Claudia and his uncle have been seeing each other for years. You know you should visit more often, but it’s difficult getting a day away from work.

This, between you and Eddie, is new. In the evenings, Eddie would come over for dinner at least once a week. He’s lonely in his large estate trying to write new music to keep him occupied. The problem is that he has virtually no inspiration sitting at home in a house that’s far too large for just him and a few workers. Parts of the house are unvisited by him just because he can still hear the screaming and the arguments clinging to the walls. He should sell the property - he really should.

Finding yourself often alone with Robin slipping away for reasons she wouldn’t tell you, although you have a clue that she’s doing this on purpose knowing you’re spending time with any man outside of work, you always offer the food you make for yourself to your friend across town. Eddie’s never turned you down so far.

“I can’t believe it,” you sip your sparkling apple cider - Eddie’s brilliant suggestion. All the wine in your cabinets is hidden away from view. Something Eddie insists isn’t necessary, but you will still do it.

“Get a load of this,” he leans forward across the table, “he bought a ring already.”

“Shut up,” you clasp your hand over your mouth.

Eddie nods his head in response, and slices another piece of pork for himself to chew on.

-> <-

July 1993

“I like this more than this,” you hand Eddie his journal back.

After dinner tonight, you insisted that Eddie show you what he’s been working on lyrically. The music hasn’t flowed together yet. But what he has on paper is beautiful - romantic even. You’re not aware of anyone new in his life, but you’re sure he will tell you when he’s ready.

Eddie strums his guitar that he’s brought all the way from home to try to find a melody to play with the tune of his song. Sometimes you get caught up in the music like he’s performing your own personal concert.

“Like that?” Eddie hits a new chord, “er- maybe not like that.”

Shadows caress his face in the moonlight. A side table lamp illuminates just enough space that you can read his sheet music if you lean in closely. His cologne is spicy and hot. It sort of punches you in the nose.

A sharp hit - one, two, three, four - comes from your shared wall with a neighbor you haven’t formally met. He’s grumpy, and chasing death with one good eye.

“Turn that racket down!”

“Thin walls,” you explain.

-> <-

August 1993

“I’m thinking about putting in an offer for that place a couple blocks that way,” Eddie points in a general direction, as though you would know where he’s talking about. “It’ll be closer to the highway, so I can see my uncle easier. But, it’s pushed back from the street for more privacy.”

“Any offers on your place?” You dab your mouth with your napkin.

“Why? You looking to buy?” Eddie prods a tomato with his fork rolling it around in the homemade sauce.

You roll your eyes at his joke, “I wouldn’t even know what to do with all the money you make. Pay off school loans - pay your uncle back?”

“That money was a gift,” he reminds you.

“That money was for you,” you challenge.

“You needed it more,” he bites the tomato off his fork. “And, look where it got you.”

Eddie’s point is mute, as your neighbor flushes his toilet and the plumbing groans throughout your apartment. This is what you can afford for now, and you’re fine with that. You’re saving your money for later.

-> <-

October 1993

“Oh, my god!” You hide your head from the bloody massacre on your television, “how can you even watch this?”

“Come on!” Eddie scolds, “you used to love horror movies!”

“Used too,” you gag as someone loses their head, “it’s so realistic now!”

Halloween night in an apartment can be pretty quiet. No kids will come to your door, so you’re sat with a bowl of candy to yourself. That is until Eddie came by with a few rented movies, and some popcorn.

The popcorn and candy have been ransacked through. All the good candy has been devoured leaving the coconut and almond crap sitting sadly in the bottom of the bowl. When Robin comes back home, she’ll eat them.

You jump out of your seat when the killer finds the girl hiding in a rather stupid spot. Although, you’ve said that if you ever get trapped in a horror movie that you would give up right away. It’s too much work trying to hide from someone that’s just going to get you anyway.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Eddie shields your eyes, as you scrunch closer into his side.

-> <-

December 1993

“I’d like to say,” Wayne holds up a toast at dinner, “I’m grateful to have you all here tonight. Thank you, everyone.”

Next to none of you might look alike, but you were all family. Claudia insisted that everyone come to her home for Christmas. They’ll make the room in her mid-size two bedroom house, just as long as everyone can be there together. The sewing room can be Eddie’s whenever he wants - that was the deal when Wayne moved in. And, you’re sleeping on the air mattress in the living room. You’ve slept on worse.

After dinner is over, Eddie taps you on your shoulder while everyone is distracted in conversation. He waves you over to follow him to the sewing room.

It’s about as small as a closet with enough room for Claudia to do some hemming here and there on her sewing machine that’s pushed into a corner. Eddie has Dustin’s old twin bed from when he was little (now has graduated to a queen, so his little girlfriend and him can have sleepovers). But, there isn’t much room for anything else.

“Merry Christmas,” Eddie holds out a terribly wrapped package. It’s tiny and square - you think.

You plop down next to him on the bed, “what’s this?”

Unwrapping the mound of paper that Eddie’s thrown onto the gift, you’re eventually left with a velvet bag tied tight with some string. You pry the opening apart, so you can see a shiny silver chain of a necklace.

“Oh, my God,” you coo at your initial hanging across the middle, “this is beautiful!”

“I got it for you when we were in high school, but er- didn’t know if it was appropriate since you were with Gareth and stuff,” he chews on his bottom lip.

What did he mean by that? You want to ask, but never got the chance because Dustin came barreling through the house like a tornado.

“My mom wants everyone in the living room for dessert,” he knocks on the shell of the door frame.

“Be right there,” Eddie answers for the two of you.

You ask before he leaves, “Will you help me put it on?”

-> <-

December 1993 - January 1994 (New Year’s Eve)

Music bumped through a stereo at a more reasonable volume after your neighbor complained. The next time she would call police, and you’re really not ready for that to happen again.

In true fashion, Robin forgot to mention a New Year’s Eve party until two days ago. Floods of her coworkers barreled through your front door in their eclectic and artistic style. They brought vegan and vegetarian bites to share with the other guests. And, non-alcoholic beer (because really what good is beer if it has any alcohol in it).

Jeff had the mind to bring a couple cases for anyone who indulges. After all, it is a party!

Eddie sticks close to you as midnight nears. The one person he knows who doesn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight, or he hopes you don’t.

“Is this alright for you?” You’ve asked him this twice now, but this time is different because you’re holding a glass of wine and he’s stuck to the sparkling apple juice that’s become a tradition for you to have around the house.

“Yeah, fine,” Eddie replies. Honestly, he’s not tempted by any of the liquor going around. What he wants won’t leave such a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

What he doesn’t know is that you’ve applied an extra layer of lipgloss, before you left the bathroom a couple minutes ago. Your heart hammers in your chest, but you’ve decided that tonight has to be the night. It’s the perfect excuse because you can brush off a friendly kiss with Eddie if all goes horribly wrong. Something to do with someone you trust facing midnight on New Year’s Eve.

You hug your glass now, but you don’t take a single sip wanting nothing to go wrong. That was the plan until a party guest elbows your drink by mistake, and the wine spills across your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he prefers the nickname ‘Ty’ to his given name Tyler, and he’s one of Robin’s favorite coworkers.

Your top is ruined, but what’s worse is the mess is already drying and sticking to your skin. The stench of alcohol burns your nose and the longer you wear the top, the more your skin soaks up like a sponge.

“It’s fine,” you know that he’s had a couple of non-alcoholic beers, so he mustn’t be thinking straight anymore. “I’ll be right back.”

Heading down the hallway to your bedroom, the party quiets a moment. You hadn’t noticed how loud the music was, or the voices. It’s nice to have some peace and quiet.

Your options are low. The laundry you should have done about a week ago laughs in your face. Going through your drawers, you find an old sweater. The fabric is stretched out, and the sleeves are unraveling bit by bit.

“Oh!” You groan when the shirt you have on sticks to your head just as it had to your chest. Ripping the damn thing off, your ear rings from the tight fit.

Shit. Your bra is soaked. The only other one you have is in the wash.

“10…”

And, so the countdown begins. You’re too late. Busy wrestling a sweater over your head that’s ready to be thrown away, you hear them yelling already.

Midnight struck, and you’re stuck only halfway into your sweater.

-> <-

May 1994

Two years ago, Eddie Munson was arrested under suspicion of domestic violence against his girlfriend at the time, Hazel Heart. Police were called after a woman [Heart] allegedly ran onto the streets crying and begging for help. She claimed her boyfriend [Munson] hit her over the head with a wine bottle. Munson was then arrested after fleeing to a friend’s house. Mid-way through the trial, however, a voice recording was apparently discovered of Heart screaming at Munson that she would “ruin his [redacted] career.” The charges were quickly dropped, and Munson left the court room quietly that same afternoon looking exhausted. Not much has been heard from the rockstar, until recently fans spotted him out with his old band members. Corroded Coffin is set to perform in New York City in July. Could we be seeing a familiar face show up there too?

-Pebble Magazine

“They’re so cute,” you wipe a tear out of your eye watching Wayne and Claudia dance together at their wedding.

The man that once gave up on love found in the center of the dance floor with his friends and his family cheering him on. Claudia is the better dancer of the two, but Wayne spends his time making sure everyone sees his beautiful bride and that they get a good laugh out of him looking silly, especially in that penguin suit.

“Dip her!”

One of Wayne’s coworker’s begins the chant that surfs through the crowd of onlookers. Wayne tips Claudia with the gentlest of hands, and smooches her with all the love in the world.

“Woo!” You cheer from the crowd.

Dustin yells out from behind you. All he wants is for his mother to continue her happiness until the day she leaves this earth - which, is never by the way. Wayne’s a solid dude. Hey! That means he and Eddie are like cousins - er, brothers? Whatever Eddie wanted to call it.

Where is Eddie?

Even on the other side of the room, Eddie’s eye is on you. Dustin’s surprised you can’t feel his ever looming presence. That soft puppy dog look. God, it’s astounding how you don’t see the way that Eddie looks at you. Dustin’s seen that same look upon his face when you were across the room in school too.

But, he swore not to meddle. He swore that he would leave this thing - this dance - you two do alone. That it was none of his business. You know what is his business? Getting a college degree. Technology really is changing the way the world views everything, despite his mom disagreeing with the field he’s chosen. Computers are going to take over, and when they do he’ll be prepared. Dustin will know the ins and the outs!

Anyway, you pay no attention to Eddie. That’s not until he turns his back anyway. You do that almost as if the whole thing is planned. Eddie looks away, and you look at Eddie and then you look away and so Eddie looks at you.

Did Dustin just make that noise out loud?

“That’ll be you someday,” you tease Dustin over your shoulder. The groaning? Oh, please! He’s a bit old to be grossed out by his mom kissing a guy - kissing her husband!

You share a table with the closest family, so Dustin and Eddie. In earshot, Gareth sits nearby with Jeff, his wife Kelly and their less than a year old son Kurt - imagine where he got the inspiration for that name.

Dustin folds his arms across his chest, “yeah? You first.”

This is not him instigating. He’s not instigating. Who would consider this instigating?!

“I’ll have to get a man interested in me first,” you are blinder than a bat. If Dustin were to say the words ‘Hey, check out Eddie because he’s drooling over you like a dog’ you wouldn’t know who he was talking about.

“I can think of one,” okay, so he was instigating. He can’t help it!

“Do tell,” you turn so intrigued.

Dustin doesn’t have to say anything because his eyes tell you all that you need to know. Lately, he has been insisting that you must go out with your best friend. That ship has sailed. You missed the boat last December, and you won’t open yourself up to what’s surely a disaster waiting to happen.

You love Eddie, you really do. But, being his friend is safe. And, maybe that’s all you were meant to be. There’s never a time where you two really meet in the middle. Not to mention your job is in Indianapolis. His job is all over the world. The distance is impossible.

“How many times have I told you-,”

“You’re just friends,” he finishes your sentence.

“That’s got to be her favorite sentence,” Jeff rocks his son in his lap to keep him from crying anymore.

Before you could throw your own opinion onto the table, the music finishes behind you and the crowd covers your voice as they cheer on the newly married couple. You turn around to join the celebration instead of focusing selfishly on your own problems. Problems that you didn’t have. That was everyone else’s problem.

Claudia floats out to the edge of the dance floor to invite Dustin to dance with her letting Wayne get off his feet for a moment to talk with some of his friends. As the music picks up again, guests grab their friends or a dance partner and boogie to the dance floor.

You nod your head to the beat, and reject Dustin’s robot as an invitation to slide onto the dance floor. Not so great on your feet, you’d like to do less embarrassing yourself tonight.

“Hey,” Eddie surprises you from behind, as he slides into Dustin’s warm chair.

“Hi,” you’re not used to seeing Eddie suited up all dapper, even if the top button to his shirt is undone and he’s got a tag sticking out from his jacket. “Congratulations on the new aunt and the cousin.”

“Thanks,” he laughs at the way Dustin dances with his mom. They’re two peas in a pod. “That little shit is more like a brother to me. Don’t tell him I said that. The ego on that kid.”

“No worse than yours,” you tease him.

“Oh, please!”

This is what you’ve missed most about Eddie. Laughing with him until your stomach hurts. You fall into a steady rhythm that you know so well. One that’s familiar and comfortable.

“I like the suit by the way,” you pinch a loose hair away from his jacket.

Eddie once swore up and down that he would look like a penguin got loose from the zoo if he ever submitted and wore a suit. Look at him now! It’s not really a suit, just the jacket and a top underneath with the top button missing. He wouldn’t be Eddie if he hadn’t smuggled in some dark denim jeans and boots. But, you like that he’s authentically him still.

“You look beautiful,” Eddie cranes his head from the dance floor to you.

There’s no punchline this time. He truly means what he’s saying to you. Not just tonight, but all the time. You’re the most dazzling in the room everywhere you go. This sort of sparkle you light up each room is inspiring.

Your scarf floats from your shoulder to the floor below you.

“Oh-.”

Eddie picks up your scarf from the floor, and delicately drapes it back over your shoulders.

“Would you like to dance?” Eddie hold out his hand for you to take.

“Yeah.”

As Eddie guides you out to the dance floor for some pretty piss poor dance moves, Jeff and his wife begin to bet how long it will be until you and Eddie’s wedding. Kurt lets out a wail, and Kelly takes this as her cue to check for a stinky diaper.

The lively jazzy music takes a turn to something much slower and smoother. People begin to pair off, as the kids leave the floor for the open buffet tables. You’re about to part from the floor, but Eddie stops you by taking your hand and placing a hold your waist.

“Is this okay?” Eddie begins to sway.

You hum, “perfect.”

-> <-

[June 1994 - July 1994]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Dearest readers,

This next chapter is late - I know. But, trust me the wait is worth it. I decided last minute that I hated everything about it, so I took the time to revise and rewrite.

xo baddie

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 26

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

TW: This chapter contains descriptions of domestic violence.

-> <-

July 1992

You’re half awake. Heart pounding against your ribcage. Beads of sweat decorate your forehead. A wave of nausea throws you off balance.

There it is again. You’re sure you hear knocking. But it’s - you check the alarm clock you’ve hidden beneath a pillow because the light is keeping you from a full rest - two in the morning? Who on earth would be waking you at this hour?

Steve.

You wrestle out of bed as the knocking persists. He better have a reason as to waking you up that isn’t about his wedding jitters. Steve’s thrilled to be getting married, but sometimes that boy is just that - a scared little boy.

Ready to rip his head off his body, you tear down the hallway and check the peephole expecting to see your neighbor half awake and bouncing on his toes.

It’s Eddie - and he’s - he’s bleeding?!

“Eddie?” You pull open your front door.

Dried blood stops at his chin that started at his nose. Eddie’s eyes are red, and sweating. Tears fall down his cheeks. He’s trembling in his stained pajamas with no shoes. You notice his hand second. He’s got his right hand wrapped in some sort of cloth that once was blue - now red with even more blood.

“Help me,” he sobs.

“Oh my god.”

There’s so much stuff in your bathroom. Toothbrushes next to the sink. A puddle of toothpaste dripping into the old standing sink. There’s soap with a cute little charm attached. Had you bought it like that? Your mirror has a cabinet built in, so you have more space to store stuff. Clearly, you need a few more drawers.

Even the shelves built over your toilet are home to a few too many plants. You’ve never been able to keep a plant alive, so Eddie must assume they’re Robin’s plants. Where is Robin? Surely she would have woken by all the noise you’re making banging around in cabinets.

The plush pink rug underneath Eddie’s feet makes him forget the pain he was in running to his car without shoes on. How could he have forgotten his shoes? These socks are ruined! At least he had socks.

Eddie assess your bathroom, and you beg for him to sit still once more.

“You should really get checked out by a hospital,” you’ve said this three times already.

“No,” Eddie has gone all nasally with tampons suck up his nose to stop the waterfall of blood that’s running down his face.

You’re not a nurse by any means, but the cuts on his hands are serious enough that he might want an extra opinion from a licensed doctor. This time when you see the bruises on his arm you don’t say anything. You don’t have too.

“Hazel just gets . . . over excited sometimes,” he winces when you slide a rather large bandage across the palm of his hand.

Eddie’s been a victim his whole life. Being bullied throughout school and up until now - this moment in his life. Someone he trusted, he truly trusted Hazel at some point, has broken all of that.

“You can’t go back to her-,”

“That’s not your decision,” Eddie defends harshly.

You put your hands up in surrender, “alright - just, stay here with me tonight? Come on - it’ll be like old times.”

Eddie runs his finger over the bandage across his hand. In that moment, he’s shattered into nothingness. That terribly sinking feeling that this isn’t going to be the end of things, or if he closes his eyes that he’s drunkenly dreamt up this whole scenario rattles his entire body. But he agrees on his own conditions,

“I’ll take your couch.”

“That couch is going to kill your back, and your neck by the morning. Take my bed, and I’ll sleep in Robin’s bed. She’s visiting her girlfriend in Hawkins,” you explain why Robin’s out like the dead - because she’s not even here.

“I’ve slept on worse,” Eddie gets off the lid of your toilet and brushes past you like he knows where he’s going. Then asks, “do you have any extra blankets?”

-> <-

Eddie wakes with a pounding headache, as light hits him right in the eyes through your cheap crappy blinds. When he blinks out the tired, you’re there in front of him asleep and curled up in the living room chair.

Last night, you paced your room just torn up about whatever Eddie was going through. Your friend, your best friend, so vulnerable and so childlike turning to you for help.

You couldn’t go to bed.

Tiptoeing into your living room space, you sat in your favorite chair. The chair you use when you need a bit of warmth to hit your face without going outside. It refreshes you and clears your mind.

Through the night, however, the night brought a calmness. A quietness crept through the house. Whispers of thought bubble inside your overworking mind. The air conditioning kicks on loudly, but doesn’t stir your snoring friend. In the moonlight you can see the edges of old scars, and bruises that haven’t quite heeled. You find yourself aching to hold him - to touch his burnt skin.

There are days you recall in childhood now - running and laughing. You were both so free and golden at the cusp of life. Now, dull and dreary - when did everything become so plain and every day.

Life mustn’t be so every day for him, he travels the world and plays music to sold out shows. Something that he doesn’t know, that you perhaps are a bit shy to admit, is that you’ve listened, you’ve watched, you’ve kept articles and cut outs from newspapers celebrating his success. Corroded Coffin’s success.

Do the other boys even know? They must be aware that Hazel has destroyed him. That she’s left him practically lifeless in a human suit.

You wish you could get him to stay - to hold him and never let go.

Before you succumb to your exhaustion, which it must have been well past five in the morning because the sunlight was already beginning to show herself, you felt a faint flutter. A stomach ache - if you weren’t paying attention. You were, however, paying attention. Enough attention that you chose to ignore it in that very moment, and you would continue to push the flutter away.

The funny thing about patience that good will nearly always be rewarded to those who wait. And, in this case . . .

-> <-

July 1992 - May 1994

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 25

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

TW: This chapter does discuss domestic violence, and substance abuse.

-> <-

June 1992

Despite Hazel’s clear rejection of too much noise, Eddie wanted to invite his friends over for a celebration. All of his hard work earned him not only one home, but two homes and a vacation from performing and touring city after city. This little life he had worked so terribly hard for was a lot more than he bargained for. And so, after compromising with Hazel for a couple of hours, the pair settled on an extremely awkward dinner party.

The guests all came through the grand entry way in their finest attire judged harshly by the lady of the house. Their eyes land across the lavish decor. None of it screamed “Eddie Munson” although, whose to say that his tastes for fine art could change through the years.

Dinner is served on fine china with folded cloth napkins that are refolded between courses along with new dinnerware and silverware. This is terribly over the top for a group that is regularly ordering pizza and drinking a box of wine over some cheesy film after a long day of work.

You stretch out your aching heel under the dining table, as your body protests the cruel trick of swapping your work heels for a taller pair of sleek heels. Ouch.

“Everything alright?” Robin dares to whisper next to you. She’s been frozen as a statue and terrified to use the wrong spoon to ladle her soup into her mouth with. Everyone else is engrossed in conversation, so she figures this is an okay time to ask.

“Yeah, I’m just sore,” you catch Eddie’s soft gaze across the clinking glasses that are toasting to Nancy and Steve’s upcoming wedding.

Steve and Nancy are just as surprised to get an invite as anyone else here. But, Steve ran into Eddie a lot when they were younger, and chauffeuring Dustin around - another Hellfire member. Eddie gave him the van. That must have been some friendship. Apparently, Dustin’s mom has been seeing Wayne for some time. Who knew!

A crash at the opposite end of the table catches your attention, and Hazel is thrashing wildly at one of the waitress staff that served dinner tonight. She has spilled red wine onto the carpet.

“You idiot!” Hazel shrieks, “get me a towel. Bleach! Something! This is designer!”

Surprisingly, Eddie doesn’t move from his chair. He hardly holds a reaction, but rather stone coldly he throws back the other half of his whiskey. Then, he quietly retreats to the kitchen where he will surely find another bottle. What his guests don’t know is he’s already drunker than a skunk, and he’s been drinking well before eleven in the morning. Surely, a few closest to him can smell the alcohol. But, they don’t say anything.

The guests are left to the horrendous scene in front of them. Hazel firing someone on the spot, and the first course isn’t even completed.

When you turn your head, your met with the empty chair. Eddie’s gone.

“I’m going to go find a bathroom,” you whisper so that only Robin can hear you.

Robin wants you to stay and to not leave her here in this mess, but honestly she’s surrounded with the other band members - plus, Steve and Nancy - so, she’ll at least have other witnesses.

Meanwhile, you take yourself through the first doors you see that lead you straight to the kitchen - straight to Eddie.

Leaning over the counter, Eddie’s got an empty whiskey bottle held up to the light. There’s no more, and that perplexes him. He could have sworn there was more. And, the cupboards are empty too. Hazel must have hid the stash because she “hates how he gets when he drinks.” If she was more tolerable, then perhaps he wouldn’t drink so much.

“Eddie,” your voice comes out softly. “Why are you hiding in here?”

The one person that can read him like a book came to find him. How terrific. Here he is drunker than sin, and you’ve come looking for him. He loves you. He really does. But, it’s not fair. Your lives could never cross at that exact moment - at that right perfect fucking moment.

Fuck, he loves you.

“Enjoying the party?” Eddie nearly trips over his own two feet turning around.

Your eyes trail down and up his body, “you’re drunk. Why are you drunk?”

“It’s a party,” he slurs.

“Yes,” you repeat almost obviously, “but why are you drunk?”

Eddie sits back at the thought you’re trying to pry deeper into his brain - deeper than you were, which couldn’t be even remotely possible. The idea of getting rid of you, and replacing you with someone to hold onto - someone warm. He knows that being with Hazel is selfish, but sometimes she’s not this awful. Her head gets a bit full at the idea of money flowing in, and she gets to play house with him. The media loves them, so their management is quite happy.

Eddie could be quite scandalous back in the day. Women draping over him after shows. Snorting lines in the back room, while his friend’s are railing one of the groupies they brought backstage that evening. Those days are behind him - now he does the same shit with a girlfriend on his arm.

“I am drunk,” that’s all he says.

You hum.

Wearing something you usually wouldn’t buy yourself, Eddie could have guessed you got a promotion. You work in the same firm as Steve - something he gathered from the small talk earlier in the front hall with Hazel, who was only half listening because she could see a smudge on one of the windows halfway across the room.

The dress hugs your body more than the looser stuff you would wear when you were younger. Deep wine soaks into your skin complimenting your complexion. You’re touching the sleeves of the thin black scarf you’ve brought to cover your arms, although Eddie can’t imagine why. Your skin is as soft as a petal of the most delicate of flowers. Deep inside is where you keep that tough hard shell. You have to have it working in such a male dominated field. You’ve never been fearful of such things though - you’re standing toe to toe with a drunk man aren’t you?

Eddie knocks over his glass sending shards scattering across the kitchen floor. Both of you bend down to reach for the pieces when you catch a glimpse of a scar resting against the back of Eddie’s hand hidden under his suit jacket. It was just a moment when the fabric slipped out of place that you saw the purple bruising around the skin.

“You’re hurt,” you reach out to touch him, but he pulls away from you before you can see much more.

Eddie clears his throat, “yeah, it was probably the glass. Er- we own a broom. Why don’t you go back into the dining room and I’ll deal with this?”

What a lie. You saw no blood coming from his old wound.

Why would he lie to you?

-> <-

[July 1992] tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

My dearest readers,

The next couple of uploads for Over the Years will come at you a bit faster than they have been just to ensure the story progresses at a decent pace.

Also, a warning that there will be discussions of domestic violence in a future part. I will place a trigger warning at the top of the chapter.

baddie xo

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 24

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

September 1990

“I don’t understand how you could keep striking out,” Steve sips on a cold beer.

The Corner, interestingly enough the building is smack dab in the middle of downtown, is a popular bar for the college crowd. You’ve sat next to a few of these people in class. Even that guy that never pokes his head out of his sketchbook is here. You wonder if you look that crazy when you write. Probably.

You’re onto your second drink of the night. The nerves are gone and you’re a bit looser in the mouth. It’s not enough to spill all your secrets, but you’re open to tell Steve about your shitty dating experiences so far.

“You have to understand, Steve. Men are useless and that’s why we date women,” Robin plays with the umbrella her drink came with.

Steve sucks in a breath as though Robin just leaked his private banking information, and leans over to whisper lowly, “does she know?”

“Know?” Robin doesn’t bother entertaining Steve by whispering back and forth. She’s also as loose as you are if not more because the girl cannot hold down her liquor. One drink in, and Robin will tell you secret Russian codes - or something. “ Oh! Yeah, she knows I’m gay.”

The both of you, Steve and yourself, stare blankly in Robin’s direction. Something along the lines of ‘he knows’ and ‘she knows’ fall out of your mouths at the same time.

“And Eddie and your little friend Dustin - he’s a freaky little detective, hm- who else?” Robin decorates her hair with her little umbrella as she dozes off into her mind.

“Okay, so you know,” you fold your arms across your chest.

Steve sits up, “she told me after I tried to hit on her when we worked at the mall.”

“She told me when we were fourteen,” you throw back as though it’s some kind of competition.

Steve holds up his drink, “cheers to that.”

You clink your glasses together, and take a sip from the worst drink you’ve ordered yet. The alcohol burns your throat and clears your sinuses. There’s supposed to be peach in here, but all you’re hit with is the tequila.

Steve laughs at you.

“I’m going to order another drink,” Robin slides out of the booth that she and Steve share.

Steve watches her dance away to the bar, and asks you, “she really can’t hold her liquor can she?”

“Not at all,” you stare as a once shy Robin flirts her way into getting another drink.

Steve’s become the designated driver, or the designated one to get a cab for you three. All the time he’s spent partying in his teenage years, his tolerance for drinking is much higher than either of you.

“How’s work?” You catch Steve’s attention.

“Corporate bums sucking on each other’s butts while I race downtown to the best coffee shop to fill one too many orders? Thrilling,” he drums his fingers to the beat of the band playing over your heads through the stereos. You recognize the tune - one of Corroded Coffin’s best albums yet. You wish Eddie would call you, or any of the boys. They’re all busy touring, or recording, or accepting awards.

-> <-

April 1991

Things are getting serious for Eddie Munson - Corroded Coffin’s leading man. He and his long time girlfriend, Hazel Heart, are seen house hunting out in Indianapolis. This is close to home for our rockstar. The question on everyone’s mind: Is our rockstar really settling down now - at the height of his career?

- Pebble Magazine

“You’ll find the master bedroom is as grand as the rest of the estate, Mr Munson,” Sandra’s tour is as uninspiring as she is. As they prance around the property, Hazel has gotten clingier. What is she so worried about? Sandra’s dusty old bob, and fifties kitten heels aren’t even revving the ol' engine.

Hazel awes at the French doors into the master bedroom. While this is something he technically could afford, the silent bell ringing of his uncle’s voice telling him to invest is there nudging him in a different direction.

“The closets!” Eddie blinks when she points straight forward, and then ditches him to catch up to Sandra.

This would be the second home Eddie purchases in the span of two years. The first is in Los Angeles, where Hazel spends most of her time. It’s large for the area, and above the city so she can see the city lights at night. But, Eddie cringes at the idea of living in Los Angeles all of his lifetime. He misses his uncle, and his friend’s back home. He certainly misses you.

So, the couple came to an agreement. Eddie would find a big enough house that’s also modern with enough windows and many doors to get yourself lost in. Hawkins didn’t have anything like that, so their next option is the town an hour away. There’s enough space, if his grump of an uncle ever lets go of the trailer, to move in here with him. But that would also take Wayne away from Claudia, so Eddie doubts that his uncle would go anywhere anytime soon.

Wayne called him up the other day ranting about how he’s too old for marriage, and that neither him nor Claudia are interested in getting hitched and that’s a fact. Eddie never even brought up the topic a single time, so he has no idea what the old fart was going on about. When he dared to ask, the rant turned into a lecture about how time is ticking and that Eddie needs to be married soon if Wayne’s got any chance at grandkids.

Eddie quickly told him that something came up, and he had to get off the phone right that second.

“Eddie?” Hazel calls for him. “We’re going out to the patio.”

“Coming!” Eddie tries to sound enthused, but falls flat.

-> <-

March 1992

Grant “the Freak” Williams and Patricia Johnson engaged - the first wedding for the Corroded Coffin family.

- Pebble Magazine

Trouble in paradise? Hazel Heart crying outside of the home she shares with Eddie Munson.

-Pebble Magazine

Gareth Emerson newly single on the market seen out with a new girl already?

-Pebble Magazine

Eddie Munson burnout? Corroded Coffin member seen here looking exhausted. All that fame comes at a price!

- Pebble Magazine

A letter falls across your desk, disrupting your search through old articles about the boys. That’s how you get your news most of the time these days.

Looking above and over your receptionist desk, Steve grins ear to ear waiting for you to open said letter. Amusing him, you flip over the envelope and slide out the letter inside.

“Holy shit!” You cover your mouth before disrupting the office in more profanities. “This is really happening?”

Steve Harrington is getting married in a years time. The invitation in your hands is frilly and lacy just the way Nancy envisioned when she showed you her wedding book. You’ve been in on the plans since you found out they were engaged.

Despite their ups and downs, Steve has never been happier than when he’s with Nancy. And, Nancy floats on air whenever Steve’s around. They’re a picturesque duo.

“I’m getting married!” Steve drums along your desk, and taps the corgi bobble head at the edge of your desk.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” you have to stand and round the desk to give him a proper hug.

“Hey, Steve!” John’s the big boss around here. He’s got a private office, and a fancy designer suit to show off just to prove it. “Do you have those documents I was looking for?”

Steve excuses himself - duty calls.

-> <-

[June 1992]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo @chaoticgood-munson @littlemissholy @butchernat

[baddiewiththebook]

Hiii was wondering if little hopper is still being edited? Whenever I tap the link for part 3 it brings me to a page that says there nothing there

Love your writing 🫶🫶🫶🫶

My readers,

Many of you have reached out to me about the status of Little Hopper, and right now the fic is on hold as I finish writing Over the Years. This will be the first fic that I dedicate my time too, along with a second project that's captivated my mind.

baddie xo