Eddie Munson x Reader: Ulterior Motives
Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+. Mentions of smutty things and pot. Also mentions of being high if that doesn’t sit right with you. Please use your better judgment and be safe out there with edibles y’all.
I fucking told you all this shit would happen one day. I told you I was working on that Ulterior Motives fic. Here it is babes.
***
It was the sexy beat of the drums that probably caught you off guard.
“Baby…”
The wet sound of his tongue against your neck intermingled with the sinful sounds blaring on the television. You tasted like Betty Crocker chocolate.
And then the keyboard came… Maybe a Yamaha or Lowrey.
The sexy percussions…
“Baby…?”
He couldn’t hear you, fumbling for the fly of his jeans as your underwear went sailing over the couch. An unintelligible groan rippled through his throat as the actress on the flick began to sound off, and then the vocalist came on…
“-ing in yo… yes make me realize...”
“Eddie get off I can’t hear!”
You pushed Eddie Munson off you abruptly and his head smacked hard into the coffee table, making him yelp in pain.
Clutching the aching part of his skull and ruffling the messy waves of his brown locks, he looked indignant to see you crawling out from under him on all fours. Your pathway was clear ahead: straight for the glow of the television that beckoned in the dark room like a forbidden idol against the teal carpet and wood panels of your family’s home. The haze of pain sadly didn’t allow him to admire the curvaceous view he currently had of your behind as you crawled on hands and knees. Which was a shame, because you were clad in nothing but his Black Sabbath shirt, and the view from the back was spectacular.
But for you to push him off that quickly… Maybe he did something wrong?
“I’m sorry!” he began quickly apologizing, pulling up his underwear and zipping the fly of distressed Levis quickly as though someone had just walked in, “Sorry! I guess I just got carried away and I thought you wanted…”
“Shhh!”
Eddie froze. His face contorted further into worry. He thought you were going to tell him you heard the characteristic car door slam of your mother’s 1979 Dodge Aspen from the adjacent garage. Evidently the last thing on your mind was hearing anything except for the television. You were pressed against the speaker, trying to listen in to something, although he doubted it was the wet noises or the groaning currently playing out.
Guilt and dread filled his chest. It was all going to shit. This had all been his idea and the whole experience had been one long string of bad luck altogether.
Originally it was a simple plan concocted after you finally passed Mr. Mundy’s remedial math final with a C. Weeks of struggling through understanding your homework and your boyfriend’s high proficiency help finally paid off. Eddie had taken you out to Palace Arcade to spoil the shit out of you with as much time as you wanted on the new Elvira pinball machine, but he felt that treat was just too tame in comparison to achieving such a big goal. Considering Mundy was the last obstacle standing in your way for graduation with him, Eddie thought of something more enticing to welcome you into the ranks of those who would walk for their diploma.
He'd proposed the idea when you called him to tell him your mother had to leave for a few days on business. A different scenario was pictured then: a fun night in with a sleepover at your place with some greasy burgers and crinkle cut fries from Big Top, homemade Munson Special Treats, and a suspiciously obtained copy of one of his favorite porno flicks, Angels of Passion, for the evening’s viewing pleasure. Concluding the evening with a stoner’s nightcap and eating everything the two of you could get your grubby hands on afterwards.
It had been going well up until you flipped out on the shitty music.
“Baby… are you ok?” Eddie asked, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up.
He got scared when you didn’t respond at all. Hardly acknowledging he was there.
“Oh fuck me Freddy… Green out babe? You’re not having a bad one are you?!” He asked, his heart racing with fear. “Was it too strong for you? I told you to tell me if you started feeling-…”
“SHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
You turned around with a scowl, putting your finger to your lips as you shushed him harshly. Whether it was Eddie’s ‘special treats’ working their magic or it was the actual shitty pop that Eddie hated, you were simply unmovable. The tune wasn’t Eddie’s style at all, then again if he was watching an adult film he wasn’t really paying attention to whatever out of tune noise the director chose for music. But you seemed fascinated.
You hummed softly along to it, and when the scene ended, you immediately rewound the tape.
“Woah… ok, what are we doing here baby? What are you listening for?” he asked, crawling over to sit next to you as you worked the Betamax.
“What is this melody?!” you asked, using a mocking British accent that you often took on for your rogue character during Hellfire’s current Battle for Baldur’s Gate Campaign.
“… the shittiest stock music known to man?” Eddie responded, and it took him a while to formulate a coherent answer that was both kind and not outright laughing at you, “It’s porno music babe. If it ain’t metal it means nothing to us.”
“Holy fuck…” you hissed through your teeth, “This song… it… it’s really fucking awesome?!”
Okay… Now what the fuck else were you eating besides badly made pot brownies from Uncle Wayne’s tiny kitchen?!
“… You’re kidding, right? Baby… it’s a POP song! Since when do we listen to pop?! Bad pop at that, some of the shittiest music imaginable and you’re here acting like it’s Mr. Crowley.”
Eddie was flailing his arms, almost hurt with you for turning against his strict metal only code in his presence. Normally you had varied tastes, and he tolerated it to a point; the only rule was nonmetal did not exist in your shared van, but anything goes on your Walkman where you could plug in your headphones and Eddie could blast something else on the cassette deck of his 1971 Chevy Van.
“Yeah that’s it… you’ve had way too much.” Eddie said, beginning to try and pull you away from the television, “No way would you find this crap enjoyable if you weren’t completely baked and tone deaf.”
“Eddie no, you don’t understand this is… how the fuck is a porno song this good???” you hissed to yourself.
It had to be the brownies… Had to be… What the hell else could it have been?! Pulling at his hair, Eddie reasoned you had to have eaten too much against his advice. Admittedly he’d bitten off a little more than he could chew today as well, and he could feel it settle in the longer he tried to pull you away from the tv. He usually could pull off pregaming a joint before a treat and still maintain some modicum of law and order of the two of you, but you’d never done this before. You had insisted earlier you would be fine, but he suspected you had bitten off more than you could chew. Definitely on the verge of a green out if your taste in music was declining this badly.
“Eddie this is so good… how the hell did they get like actual musicians to perform for a porn?” you asked, almost desperate. “I wish I could hear the rest of it… if this stupid bitch wasn’t moaning her little bimbo head off…”
“Sweetheart, that’s the whole point of the flick…” Eddie said, holding you against him as he looked deeply into your eyes. “It’s just something to have on in the background while the lead gets plowed like a cornfield. Doesn’t have any other kind of special meaning beyond that.”
You weren’t even paying attention. Completely transfixed, possessed even, as you began to hum along with the song, shaking your backside slightly with the beat. When you began to sing, Eddie had a moment where his brain began to short circuit. You had quite a captivating voice, deep and contralto, although he could never convince you to sing for him beyond screaming along to Rainbow in the Dark while parked out at Lover’s Lake.
“… everyone knows that… ulterior motives… what the hell did he say…?” You muttered, trying to follow along with the lyrics.
You rewound the video at least eight times, each time ignoring Eddie complaining and trying to get you to stop. The music was so bad, he didn’t even notice that after a while, he started feeling like maybe he’d also had a little too much. Shit! He definitely fucked up and pregamed a little too much in anticipation of your sleepover. He should have been paying attention. There was a point where he’d thought he’d rolled tobacco and not the reefer, and cautiously ate a little more of the brownies when after an hour he hadn’t felt the high, but he certainly could have just checked better and stayed with eating only half.
Each time you rewound the tape, you learned a little more of the song, until you perfectly memorized the lyrics that you were able to hear.
“Oh my god Eddie…” you said, completely out of your mind. “Holy shit… I think this is the best song ever written?”
“Jesus H. honey… What, are you a little preppie cheerleader that listens to Madonna now? You a jock?!” There wasn’t much lyrical genius that he could make out above the obnoxious moaning of the actress currently being engaging in the illicit acts. “Listen babe, let’s forgo the porno, okay? I’ll put on our album instead and we’ll listen to real music. You want that baby? I know you love Holy Diver?”
“Eddie just… Just trust me… ha… haha…” you suddenly had a fit of giggles, excited and tickled that you were able to learn the lyrics so quickly. You could hardly talk. And Eddie could hardly even get himself together enough to just shut the damn tv off.
But what happened next suddenly changed everything: you stood up quickly, and began swaying.
“Oh good God above now you’re dancing, babe, come back here…!”
At first Eddie scrambled to his feet, he was afraid the love of his life was going to fall and crash into the entertainment center, but you seemed to really be dancing, following the rhythm fairly well for being baked out of your mind. Your dance was sloppy, wild and reckless, you gyrated your hips mostly, dancing like you were the only one in the room.
Eddie froze. He was almost transfixed, more so on the way you danced rather than the fact that you were transfixed on the song still.
“Eddie watch just… just listen to it again…” you stopped to have a fit of laughter.
“I don’t like this...!” he said, more cautious than curious at this point.
“Eddie! Just trust me! Let me listen to it again, one more time…! Please?”
He hesitated. Every fiber of his being screaming about the dangers that having both of you out of your minds could cause. The logical part of his brain screamed danger, saw it lurking in the sharp corners, odds and ends and angles of the room. He should get you both to bed before one of you got hurt. He should be the responsible one for once in his goddamned life instead of being the bad influence…
“God dammit…” he growled, wiping the final remnants of shame from his face. “Fine. One more time, and then we’re shutting shit down.”
You couldn’t press rewind fast enough. The scene began all over again with the drums, a soft ‘oh yeah’ from the blonde star being worked over by some stud, honestly at this point Eddie had seen the blonde get railed under the giant Coca Cola poster so many times and was getting so high as time marched on he couldn’t even find it in himself to get hard. He was utterly desensitized to the scene, until he saw you begin to dance again, and you were looking at him like you were starving.
“Something in your eyes makes me realize… how strained this feels...” your voice was smooth, a low alto so unlike anything he’d heard in his life. Although you weren’t practiced, and still very high, something about the way you seemed to just be enjoying yourself, letting loose… through the floating giddy feeling creeping up on him, Eddie was just completely captivated watching his beautiful lover have unabashed fun dancing to terrible music.
You reached out to Eddie, fingers beckoning him to dance with you, hips swaying as you continued to sing along.
Now how could he resist you like that? All hot and bothered, needy for him, beckoning him in for a dance…
He moved automatically in, moving slightly to the beat as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressed against him while singing the chorus, sweet little voice softening when you sang ‘tell me the truth’ in a cadence that lilted up at the end, as if you were trying to flirt with him. It was actually very endearing… and Eddie was finding the longer the song went on, he didn’t actually mind the song so long as it was you singing to him.
The longer you danced together, closely pressed against one another, the greater the intensity of the passion was as the raw sexual tension built up. You slowly slid your hands down Eddie’s body, massaging and teasing him as you then slipped your hands into the back pockets of his jeans. You gave him a firm, loving squeeze. Your eyes were watery, squinting up at him in the dark, but to him you looked like an angel.
It had to be the sounds from the television getting to you both on some subconscious level, because the next thing he knew Eddie was being pulled backwards until you both hit the couch, Eddie pinning you to the cushions as you continued to dance, swaying and moving against one another. He didn’t know when it started happening, just knew that at some point the Levis were pooled at his ankles and there you were. Surrounding every sense all at once. Buried in warmth. He was so consumed by a passion that burned hot and heavy, following a rhythmic pattern of give and take, soft and wet, hot and heavy all at the same time, the once terrible music becoming a symphonic masterpiece as you and he made music of your own.
When he pulled away from you, after the most earth shattering peak of enticement, he noticed you were staring at him with stars sparkling in your eyes.
“Best song ever written, right?” you asked, mouth hanging open as you both panted in the aftermath of love.
“Yeah…” he breathed, trying desperately to catch his breath as you took it away with your beauty. “Best song ever written babe…”
