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,

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.

-> <-

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!”

-> <-

[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 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

[baddiewiththebook]

Dearest readers,

The move was successful, and I am back with a double upload. I hope you enjoy as the story progresses.

Best,

baddie xo

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | Part 23

-> 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+]

a/n this was originally a bonus chapter, but I felt as though this was still important to the plot. So, it's sort of a bonus chapter?

-> <-

August 1988

“You’re not pushing her too hard, are you Henderson?” Eddie rounds the engine of his old van that’s still sputtering to life, despite being driven around by a teenage twerp that just got his license.

Dustin scoffs, “I know what I’m doing.”

Dustin’s hair is growing out long enough to match Eddie’s. He’s also adopted Eddie’s style, which has his mother clutching her pearls. But, Claudia doesn’t complain too much when she sees how much Eddie is like an older brother to the boy. Eddie takes care of her son when he’s in town, and despite his looks he’s relatively harmless.

As Eddie digs amongst the parts and bits of the engine, he also over explains to Dustin about which part should or shouldn’t be doing things. Dustin rolls his eyes behind the older boy’s head. The van is old, and he’s lucky the thing even drives.

“If you treat her like a queen, she’ll take you to the moon and back,” Eddie swears.

While the boys argue over parts, and if the van will still run in a week, a truck pulls into the Henderson’s driveway. Wayne doesn’t see his nephew at first, and whistles a tune to himself climbing out the driver’s side door. Checking himself in his side view mirror, he pats down a frizzy piece of gray hair that insists to stand on end. He’s put on his best, which for him is his button up shirt with the sleeves rolled all the way to his elbows and a pair of jeans that aren’t horribly torn.

In his other hand, a bouquet of fresh yellow flowers. Yellow makes Cloudy’s eyes sparkle, and her face just lights up like a kid on Christmas.

Eddie pulls his head back from the engine in time to see his uncle knocking on the front door. His mouth falls agape at the sight of his uncle acting so giddy. Was he whistling? Now, this is rich. Wayne Munson, the romantic. Eddie never thought he would see the day.

Dustin catches Eddie’s eye, and follows it to his front porch. This is the second or third time he’s seen Wayne come to the house.

“Hey, Wayne,” Dustin calls his attention, “the front door is open.”

“Thanks, kid- oh! Er- hi, Eddie,” Wayne covers his blush with the flowers.

Eddie raises his eyebrow, “hi?”

“Is that Wayne I hear?!” Claudia calls from inside the home somewhere nearby. “Come in! Come in!”

Wayne replies sweetly, “Yes- er- coming, Cloudy!”

There’s an awkward pause where Wayne stares at Eddie for too long and has virtually nothing to say. The same could be said for Eddie who’s gone as stiff as a statue. Suddenly, Wayne turns cartoonishly and scrambles inside as though he’s been caught like a kid in a candy jar.

“Mom ran into Wayne at the grocery store. Apparently they used to date in high school, but split by graduation. They’ve been ‘reconnecting’ for about a year now,” Dustin uses his fingers to place quotes when he really means to say that Wayne and Claudia have been dating for a year. Old man’s been keeping all that from him? They talk on the phone all the time while he's on the road, and he couldn’t have mentioned dating his friend's mom?!

Eddie isn’t mad about them dating. In fact, the feeling is quite the opposite. Them dating after all these years is kind of sweet. The kind of romance you only hear about once in a lifetime.

It’s cute.

-> <-

[September 1990 - May 1992]

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 22

-> 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 1987

Corroded Coffin showed up to the Star Music Awards show last night to claim the New Artist Award. But, that wasn’t the only prize worth taking home. Eddie Munson was seen leaving the venue with Hazel Heart. This would be yet another tick on his bedroom wall?

- Pebble Magazine

Wayne is not usually known for being so sentimental. Sure, he has his fair number of mugs and hats from his travels when he was younger. Those days are past him. He’s an old man, and he might say death waits for him around every corner. Ha! He’s not that old yet.

Checking the lock on his front door twice (the mind isn’t so sharp these days), Wayne casts his gaze across the trailer park. A new family lives there. Some girl and her mom. It’s picturesque as though nothing vile could have happened there.

Wayne stares too long, and gasps at the time he reads across his watch. He’s late!

-> <-

“Steve! We’re out of tampons!” You thump your fist against your neighbors door. Sighing, you’re just about to turn around when you hear the familiar click from the lock.

Steve Harrington is out of breath, and very sticky. His skin is glossed over and nude, aside from the pair of shorts he threw on to appear decent. When he originally suggested for you to live across from him, the gesture was actually for him. A portion of his rent gets knocked off for inviting people to live in the building. Also, you needed a place to live since you were attending the university down the block.

“Why would I have tampons?” Steve huffs out of breath.

What’s worse than being friends with one girl? How about two? Between you and Robin barging in on him throughout the day, Steve wonders if suggesting you move across from him was a poor decision on his part. The benefits out way the latter. See, you both smell decent unlike the last guy that lived across from him. That dude never showered, and the noises that came from his apartment were extraterrestrial. Buzzes, bangs and bops? What the hell was that guy doing anyway?

Luckily for you ladies, when you moved in the place was bombed. Roaches, mice and spiders were no longer free tenets. You kept the place clean. Steve loves being invited over for dinner. It’s half expected for him to show up rather than getting an invitation these days. That means you also get to show up to his place asking ridiculous questions about tampons.

“Never mind, I’m going to poetry night with Robin. I’ll just ask Nancy,” you push past him into his apartment.

“Did I say you could- Nancy isn’t even here,” Steve’s at your heels as you tornado through his apartment.

You point to a leather purse sitting on the kitchen table next to a set of keys, “unless you’ve gotten a new fascination for lady bags and Dior, I’d say she is. Nancy!”

“Wait-,”

Steve's apartment is much darker than yours. The curtains are drawn most of the times you visit because Steve says all the light splits his head open. You're swear you're living across from a vampire. At least he's neat. All of his belongings have a place in the apartment, aside from a jacket he tosses across the back of his worn couch that you see him wear often on his way to work in the morning. You leave around the same time, exchanging pleasantries before you part ways. He goes left to the parking lot, and you head right to the bus stop.

There are rarely dirty dishes in the sink, but you are led to believe this is Nancy's doing. She comes around often enough and the pair are practically living together when they're not breaking up. It's the same cycle over and over again with these two. They're back on again, so you don't have Steve in your apartment telling you over and over again about how he's never getting back together with her.

Yeah, right.

You pause in front of his bedroom door, “I’m not going to go in.”

“But-,”

“Nancy! Do you have any tampons?!” You call out through the wood door.

“Actually, my name is Jessica,” a sweet voice sings back to you. “Er- I should have some tampons in my purse. There’s a little pocket in the front.”

You mouth drops agape at Steve, who stands beside you white as a sheet. Guilt written all over his face, as he sluts himself out to someone named Jessica. This was new. Steve didn't usually "hook-up" anymore, so who knows? Maybe Nancy and Steve are really done. Oh, please! Who are you kidding? They'll be back together next week.

“Nancy and I broke up last week,” Steve lowers his voice.

“Again?” You frown, “this is like the third time this month. Do you know how hard it is to break up with someone three times and still get back together?”

“We’re going through a rough patch,” he shrugs his shoulders.

“And what about-,” you gesture to his bedroom door.

“Band-Aid,” Steve spills. “She knows it. I know it. There’s no problem.”

You scoff at his blunt honesty and then head out the front door just the way you came, but not before snagging one of those tampons that “Jessica” offered to you. Pointing a scolding finger at Steve, he nods understandably shamed and shuts his front door after you leave.

Robin comes from the kitchen, her mouth around the last chocolate bar in the house. Adding that to the grocery list along with tampons.

“Did Steve have any tampons?” She hums around her sweet treat.

“No,” you wave the tampon, “but Jessica did.”

Robin gasps as theatrically as one might expect. The two of you are secretly spies. Always in everyone else’s business.

“Do you think she’ll want to go to poetry night?” Robin fetches her purse.

You snort, “she’s not going to last. He’ll be back with Nancy next week.”

“Isn’t that three times this month?”

“Yeah, it is.”

-> <-

December 1987

A jingle from the front door lets you know that someone has come into your shop, even with your back away from the door and the music breaking your eardrums with how loud it is. It’s a wonder how anyone can think with this over their head. Hell, you somehow make it work eight hours out of the day.

“Welcome in!” You shout over the rock and roll tape playing.

When you’re not nose deep in a pile of books trying to ace your college courses, you can be found here at Vinyl Vault. The latest in rock and roll music, and if that isn’t your vibe then there is a stack or two of folk and pop dancing around the store.

You’re admiring the latest cover for Corroded Coffin’s album. Eddie looks totally metal wearing horns and hugging his guitar. The boys stand around him all serious and smug. You can’t wait to see them again.

“I was wondering if you could-,”

You spin so fast you should have snapped your neck. That voice is as recognizable as the scent of your favorite perfume.

“Eddie!” You swing around the counter to hug your favorite person. “What are you doing here?”

Always the man for perfect timing, Eddie comes in deep in his leather fixation. Leather jacket. Leather boots. Huge chunky jewelry that catches the light and nearly blinds you. His tattoos creep across the skin you can see. More and more he’s becoming a living art piece. And, he smells just like home as always.

“Wayne told me where I could find you,” he corrects himself, “well, he told me about your apartment and then Robin told me where you work, so-,”

“Aren’t you supposed to be touring across the States?” You interject in his rambling.

“Our next stop is here,” he explains to you, “and, I got you front row tickets and backstage passes. If you want, I mean I totally get if you have something better to do.”

“I’d love to come!”

“And bring your friends,” he encourages, “my treat!”

“Oh, Eddie,” you coo. “It’s great to see you.”

“You too. I like what you’ve done to your-,”

“Eddie!”

Wrapped up in the act of catching up with your best friend, you had missed when the front door opened this time. A dashingly gorgeous young woman that appeared a bit out of place in designer shoes and a formal fitted top and bottom that you’ve never seen anyone around this side of town wear before. They look as though she cut them from a magazine.

Eddie reacts to the woman with a short smile. The kind of smile that doesn’t last once you know who’s just around the corner. But, he puts the same smile on again only stretching his lips out farther nearly like a grimace. You say nothing, as the woman bounces forward like a supermodel. Her nose in the air, as the scent of old wooden shelves and cheap air freshener impales her.

“This is Hazel,” Eddie mumbles something about wishing you two had a better meeting place, but she just couldn’t sit in the car for much longer.

Car.

Eddie’s prized van has been donated. The van is practical for small town use, and his old buddy Dustin Henderson is learning how to drive, so he gave him the van so that he could learn from her. Besides, if Hazel saw him driving that hunk of junk, she would never speak to him again. She’s much more acclimated to the finer lifestyle.

“Hi, honey,” she kisses him like she knows her lipstick will leave a print across his face. That she owns him now, so women should be afraid of her.

You, again, say none of this out loud. Instead, opting for an introduction dripping with sarcasm and phoniness. One that matches her personality quite well.

“Hi, Hazel,” your voice tips the scale of obnoxious. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m sure Eddie has told you about me.”

Okay, that was a bit harsh. A dig right into her pressed manicure that could have been the cheapest shit on the market. And, you know she pays full price for them too.

“Actually, he has,” Eddie reddens when Hazel points out how much he talks about you. Because truthfully, Hazel likes to argue that her boyfriend spends too much time talking about his best friend from his little hometown. They’ve discussed at length about how Eddie should grow up, and move away from that small town crap. Those people weren’t his real friends. Adult friends. They’re all just kids. “You’re really special to him.”

You could have hounded her for the way she used the term “special” to describe you. Bitch. Oh, you’ve pushed too far. Dial it back. This is who Eddie chose after all, and he can’t have terrible taste.

“Hazel and I are going to explore the city a bit before I have to do last minute prep for the show. Did you want to join us?”

Hazel interjects before you could open your mouth, “oh, honey. She looks a bit busy running this store.”

“She’s right,” you hold back from rolling your eyes, “I can’t leave for another hour.”

“Next time,” Hazel squeezes Eddie’s hand tightly, “come on, Eddie.”

“I’ll see you at the show tonight?” Eddie doesn’t appear to be even an ounce phased by the tension in the room. Maybe he’s used to it.

“I’ll see you tonight!”

-> <-

[August 1988]

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 21

-> 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 1987

A year has gone by since your mom has passed, and Wayne is worried about you. You’re less than half of who you used to be. In fact, you’re beginning to appear and act similarly to your mom when her life first started turning. She had lost her job, and unlike you she had a baby. In time, Wayne can see your future and well, he is terribly worried about you.

You’re still sharing his trailer, which is something he doesn’t mind for a short time. But, you really can’t be bothered to even trim the weeds in front of your yard.

Yesterday, Wayne finally did something about those weeds. With the spare key, he also explored the house. There were no fires or mold, just a hell of a lot of dust where you both used to live. He let his gaze drift upon the bedroom where your mother took her last breath. The scene was clean, except for a dark stain against the carpet that would last a lifetime. Her mattress was tossed away. There’s no way that could have been spared.

Wayne intended to pack a suitcase of extra clothes for you. You’re still wearing mostly Eddie’s clothing when you’re too exhausted to clean the few pieces you took with you when you decided to make his trailer your home. Piles and piles of journals layer your bedroom wall all the way up close to the ceiling. In no way, did Wayne mean to snoop through your private life. All those times he had caught you on the porch happily scribbling - his interest got the better of him.

Your bed is made with the sheets pulled tight. That’s something Wayne had the pleasure of getting used to in his own home. His nephew could have learned a few tricks from you. Ah, but no matter. The journal that interests him is the one you’ve most recently written in. In a layer of dust, you’ve left the book ontop of your pillow. It’s unfinished, and only written halfway through.

Wayne flips to the page that’s been bookmarked with your pen. You only write in black or blue ink. The day you write about is graduation, and how you miss Eddie terribly. There’s hardly a mention of your little boyfriend- or- Wayne could have sworn you stopped dating him now. He can never keep up with the kids.

All of your work is ever so detailed down to the color of the shirt you wore that day. These were stories. Stories about your life, about everyone’s lives. You have years of work written down and for them to sit and collect dust is a crime!

Wayne took the journal home with him. In that moment, he decided that he absolutely must be the one to shake you from your spellbound life. Hawkins isn’t a place for someone like you. Someone with potential had been dumped in a stink pot. There’s no future for you here!

A steaming cup of black coffee warms and wakes Wayne this morning. He’s been eagerly awake since three practicing what he could say to you. The hour you come home is creeping up. So, Wayne sits at the dining room table with his halfway empty mug (his second cup of coffee - by the way) with your journal by his side. An unmarked envelope that once held a brighter yellow color sits underneath the journal. He straightens the edges one more time just as the front door pops open.

You’re quiet at this hour trying not to run into Wayne after a shift at the club. The conversation hasn’t happened yet, and you’re not ready to start one now.

“Morning,” Wayne’s gruff voice startles you.

“Good morning?”

It comes out more like a question than anything else. You’re sure it is morning, but why is Wayne awake at such an early hour? The hairs at the back of your neck stand trying to motion to you that this conversation would be more than awkward, so you should just turn around now. There’s a humble park bench somewhere that you could be sleeping on.

“Sit,” Wayne motions to the empty chair in front of him that’s highlighted just for you.

A bleak attempt at humor sits swaddled at the end of your tongue that you resist in fear that Wayne wouldn’t find you humorous. You drop your bag and your shoes at the front door following with your jacket that you hang neatly on the coat rack. This buys you some time. You pat the pockets of your jacket to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything.

Wayne brings the cup of coffee to his lips. Sleep threatens his eye lids. They’re heavy.

You sit across from Wayne.

“Kid,” Wayne begins firmly, “are you going to get yourself a real job?”

Your heart skips. “You know?”

“I know everything that goes on in my house,” Wayne tells you, “and, your life is not meant to be wasted on a pole-,”

“Wayne-,”

“I’ve been in your trailer just to make sure nothing is rotting and the pipes still work,” he continues, “I went into your room to get some clothes for you, and I found all these books.”

Wayne gets eager to pull out the journal he swiped from your bed. You haven’t thought about those books in over a year. The writing is all still there. All the way up until your mom died, you wrote every day. Life is funny like that. You don’t realize what you have until it’s gone - all gone.

“I haven’t written in over a year, Wayne,” you’ve forgotten your passions a long time ago. They’re useless when you can’t peruse them past a crappy tiny town that hardly passes a reading level.

Wayne passes you the envelope that’s been guarded since the day that Eddie came into his life. It’s all the money he’s saved from all of his overtime working shifts at the plant. His hope was that one day his kid would want to go to college, and that Eddie would get a decent paying job.

Eddie’s got himself the job of his dreams. Corroded Coffin just took on a tour for their first album. It’s really good - not Wayne’s kind of music, but that’s his boy! After he stacked a few of his hats and mugs together, Wayne began a new collection of memorabilia. His boy and his band. Oh, Wayne’s proud of that kid.

Anyway, Eddie doesn’t need the money now. While Wayne could use the cash for repairs around this place, the other option is right in front of him. A part of the money has gone to help pay the final grand of your mother’s debts. But the rest, should pay out at least a year or two of college. You’ll have to get a job, but hopefully in Indianapolis there will be something more productive than what you’re doing now.

“Wayne,” your voice shakes as you count the stacks of cash hidden in the envelope. “I can’t take this.”

Wayne slaps a couple college brochures down on the table that he’s been sitting on. You’ve got to get out of this town and to do something with yourself. Even if you come back, you at least have something under your belt.

“You’re going to take the money,” Wayne insists leading you to believe he’s serious, and that ‘no’ isn’t an option. “I already payed off your mom’s loans.”

You were going to college? Wayne was paying for you to go to college? But, your mom and her debts? They were payed? A circle of questions runs through your head, so much so that you don’t notice the tears clouding your eyes until a fat droplet hits the dining room table.

“Thank you, Wayne,” you round the table to fall into his arms in a tight embrace.

“You’re going to do great, kid.”

-> <-

[August 1987]

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

[baddiewiththebook]

Dearest readers,

My upload schedule is going to get weird for a minute, as I am moving! With that being said I will for sure get a chapter of Over the Years up this Friday. The following Friday, I can’t make promises. I’ll be shoving boxes around, and cleaning all week!

Thank you for understanding, and being as passionate about my writing as I am.

xo, baddie