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bettyfrommars · 4 months

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Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

Eddie x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST PLAYLIST

It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.

my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.

A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

word count: 6.3k

The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat. From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain. The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache.

You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play. You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs. You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.

You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again. Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.

Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open. It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.

You pulled your headphones down around your neck. “Sorry?”

“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life. “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”

You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people. You were the walking wounded.

“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.

It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright. Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate.

You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town. Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.

“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees. A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing. “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”

You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled. You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck. He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.

You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.

Besides reading. And taking long walks with music to clear your head. Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.

From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous. Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants. A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water. Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet.

Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside. The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books. Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint. He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.

After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right. You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.

The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.

Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes. It sat there close to the curb, idling. You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile. Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket. Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.

Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it. They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.

“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk. A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.

The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand. “Hey Joyce, I was just—”

Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm. She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family. While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.

“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”

“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”

Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”

Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.

Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell. The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month.

“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can. They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational. She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.

“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.

They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits. There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.

Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.

The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.

You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot. Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.

The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.

“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself. “You okay?”

Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”

She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit. “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”

“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.

When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.

“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”

“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”

Robin winked. “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.

Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.

“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”

“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”

By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room. “I’m going to look around the main house.”

Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen. “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”

You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.

With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts. You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest. Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling. Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.

Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building. It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel.

You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.

They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other, so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.

One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.

“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face. “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”

You realized that it was your dad he was talking about.

Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot. Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.

“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said. “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”

But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.

The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.

Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl. You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.

Was that his girlfriend?

He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him. “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually. You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one. “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve. They’re the other musicians I told you about.”

Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear. He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.

“Hey, there the fuck you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”

Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building. You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.

Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way. The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed. While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.

“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”

“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit. “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”

Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself. His name was Eddie.

Jason put his hands up in mock surrender. “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour. There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”

You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.

So that you could see Eddie’s face.

Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe. “I gotta run. See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets. He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way. Jason shot him an evil look.

“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.

“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.

The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.

When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along.

Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.

“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face.

Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks. Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.

When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again. With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog.

You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—----

Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation. There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party. She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier. The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.

Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.

“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.

Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.

“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.

Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true. But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.

“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink. “This place will all be mine one day.”

Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.

“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.

If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table.

Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours. “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”

Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.

“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it.

In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.

An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.

—-------

Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself. He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.

You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest. He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.

You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him. You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.

You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare.

On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property.

Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.

And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.

"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music. It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.

"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it. His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.

Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests. Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing. The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there.

At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another. While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.

Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.

Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.

The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.

“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”

You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.

“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”

The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier. He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.

“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.

The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage.

I get so lost, sometimes

Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

When I want to run away

I drive off in my car

But whichever way I go

I come back to the place you are

You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot. You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.

He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.

They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.

He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.

All my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.

Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie. Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.

"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."

In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."

Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”

—--

It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.

“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”

The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most.

In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter. You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.

It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished. Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.

As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point

And that made you want to venture in even more.

You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going. The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.

You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence.

Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.

(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)

It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead. Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.

“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”

Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.

She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.

“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.

“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.

She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground. You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.

“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.

“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed. “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”

Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees. “What is that place?”

“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”

Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped. But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”

Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”

You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.

She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms.

“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”

----

Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.

Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.

as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️

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taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082

#Dirty Metal Summer #dirty dancing au #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things fic #Steve Harrington #robin buckley

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thermodynamic-comedian · 15 days

Text

just realizing that the way i currently envision the oiar gang is like

beautiful fluffy baby cow with the most gorgeous dark eyes taken human form

hot girl at the punk concert that you briefly fall in love with after she helps you up when you fall over in the moshpit

aww, look! the judgy blonde rich girl from every single high school movie's all grown up!

quiet metalhead uncle that you get along with really well, even though the only conversations you ever have are like "hi" "hey"

me. literally just how i look in real life. except maybe the slightest bit more femme. i'm truly confused because we sound and act nothing alike. but somehow i know celia has brown hair and round glasses.

low-energy dark-haired lesbian that gets adopted into a friendgroup of 40 year old dads at a the mountain goats concert because she expressed the right opinions on alcoholic beverages

#in case you can't tell:#samama khalid #alice dyer #gwen bouchard #colin becher #celia ripley #lena kelley #in that order.#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp headcanons #tmagp shitpost

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stevesbipanic · 2 years

Note

soulmate au where you can hear what song your soulmate has stuck in their head. Steve gets confused as to why he always hears heavy metal, because he always thought he'd fall for a girl who listens to cheesy romantic pop music, and Ed gets frustrated from all the Top 40 songs constantly playing in his head

Since my last soulmate AU was sad I should do another fluffy one so Ty for the prompt.

Eddie doesn't really remember a time a song wasn't playing in his head. He assumes there was probably a time when he was little bit his memories of childhood are fuzzy at best anyway. However, no matter how loud he plays his metal songs, the poppy top 40s songs of his soulmate will often drown them out. It almost drives him insane, until one day all the songs stop.

In the cold winter of 1983, Eddie Munson wakes up one day with no song in his head. This wasn't completely unusual, his soulmate was often an early riser but the holidays were coming up so people slept in more. What was strange however, was there was no song, all day. No song the next day and no song for weeks. Eddie knew something very bad had happened to his soulmate and he didn't know what to do.

Steve will often tell people he does bad at school because his soulmate plays the loudest music. When Steve was a kid the songs would only be now and then but since Steve was nine there was always some loud metal music rattling around his brain. Steve would spend years looking for some cool metal chic, but all the girls he met liked cute pop songs.

Steve was suspicious that Nancy was a secret metalhead when he fell head first in love with her. She wasn't, he wasn't surprised she always had indie music playing in her head. After he faced the Demogorgan, Steve didn't feel like listening to the radio, the staticky sound put him on edge, he sat in his room, all the lights off so they wouldn't flicker, and held his nail bat tightly. He would listen all day for the sound of danger, the only noise he heard was his soulmate. When his parents returned a few weeks later he had to go back to normal.

When Eddie woke up to some dumb song he heard on the radio once, he almost cried. His soulmate was ok.

In 1984, Eddie's soulmate had another blip, Eddie held his breathe, but the songs would return and his soulmate was ok.

In 1985, Eddie's soulmate had the dumbest songs in his head. Weeks after the fire Eddie would figure out he heard the same songs playing in the mall. He was glad he could still here them, his soulmate was still ok.

In 1986, Eddie felt bad for his soulmate. He'd been practicing Master of Puppets for weeks as soon as it came out, his soulmate must be sick of it. When everything started happening, Eddie's soulmate was quiet, Eddie hoped he was ok, that he wasn't dead somewhere like Chrissy.

Eddie silently apologised to his soulmate as he played his favourite song once more, he hoped they would forgive him if said song saved the world. As Eddie laid bleeding out in Dustin's arms, he wished he could hear a dumb pop song one more time. Maybe his soulmate was waiting for home on the other side.

...

....

.....

Eddie blinked his eyes open, the lights were bright, wait, bright lights? Eddie looked around as his eyes came into focus, he was in a hospital, he was alive. That wasn't the only surprising thing, Steve Harrington was asleep in a chair next to his bed.

"Hey, pretty boy, wake up."

"E-Eddie? EDDIE! Fuck you're awake! You're ok!"

"Yeah, seems like it, I'm guessing I have you and the others to thank."

"Yeah, couldn't let my soulmate bleed out in that hellhole."

"Soulmate?"

"Dustin told me what song you played."

Steve flicked Eddie's arm.

"Um OW! I'm injured here Stevie have mercy."

"That's for making me listen to that song for weeks, Eds!"

"Well it saved the world didn't it?"

"Yeah I guess it did."

"Plus you made me listen to cheesy pop songs sweetheart so we're even. You um, I thought you were dead sometimes, there would be no songs for weeks, I thought Vecna had killed you when there was no songs again this time."

"Don't like listening to songs when all this shit is going down, distracts me. I don't think my head has ever been as quiet as on that drive it the hospital, don't do that again ok?"

"I promise, Stevie, gonna be stuck with my loud as fuck music for life."

"Sounds good to me, Eds."

Guess Eddie's soulmate was waiting for him on the other side after all.

#stranger things #soulmate au #steddie #steddie au #steddie soulmate au #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #st4 #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #ty for the prompt #ficlet #steddie ficlet

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word-wytch · 1 year

Text

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 3

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 3/? 3.8k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Fantasy — something that Eddie is intimately familiar with.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: SMUT (18+ mdni), m!masturbation, Eddie is absolutely feral in this chapter sorry not sorry.

Wednesday, October 2nd 1985

Eddie smacked the blaring alarm clock next to his bed. 7:10 AM. It was chilly in the trailer, and that wasn’t doing anything to help his motivation. He knew he shouldn’t linger any longer, but Wednesday mornings were always the roughest.

Eddie had it down to a science. If he rolled out of bed at 7:10 that would give him twenty minutes to take a piss, brush his teeth, throw on some clothes, and microwave the leftover coffee that Wayne made the night before so he could hit the road by 7:30 and be at school by the first bell at 7:40. Whoever decided that was an appropriate time for anything to start was clearly a sadist. That was the plan anyway, whether he beat the bell or not was always a toss up.

He had hung around much later than he should have at the Hideout last night. Later than the other guys, anyway. Bill was there, as he always was — his favorite of the five drunks who attended his shows.

Sometimes if the other members of Corroded Coffin wanted to head home earlier than Eddie wanted, he would hang around and Bill would buy him a beer or two and the owner would turn a blind eye. He was a gruff sort of guy in his 40s, at least Eddie guessed anyway, he’d never really asked him. He wasn’t much unlike his uncle Wayne and that endeared him almost immediately.

So he’d shoot the shit with Bill until their beers were gone, and sometimes that would take Eddie out past 1 AM. He didn’t know exactly what compelled him to stay out so late, but what he did know was that hanging out with Bill made him feel like a real adult. Sometimes he would even forget for a moment that he had to get up at ass o’clock on a Wednesday morning and go to high school at 20 years old.

Today he made it to school by 7:43.

By the time he parked his van and hustled into the building, the hallways were slowly filtering out, everyone headed to their homerooms before class began at 7:50. Eddie was half inside his locker when he heard his name.

He looked up to see Chrissy Cunningham walking briskly down the hall, her strawberry blonde hair looking pristine as usual, pulled back in her signature scrunchie. She smiled and waved at him, which he returned, only to see Jason Carver hot on her heels.

The truth was, with the way Eddie was dressed, most people just left him alone and that’s how he preferred it. It was by design. Chrissy sure seemed to notice him though, and so did Jason, especially after the basketball team lost their first game last Friday.

Eddie wasn’t sure why he would be to blame when it was Jason’s own big stupid mouth that landed him in detention the Thursday before, but by the looks that Jason was giving him the past few days, it was clear to him that he had not forgotten their little trifle in English class.

Eddie shot Jason a mocking look in response to the glare he received. It was all he could do to not laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing was. There was a small part of him that wanted to talk to Chrissy just to press his buttons but quite frankly high school drama was one of the last things he ever wanted to be involved in.

______

By the time fourth period rolled around, Eddie was grateful he’d dragged himself out of bed and slogged through the day just so he could see you.

He watched you from the back of the classroom as he did every day, cheek pressed against his knuckles.

Today all he could do was stare at your ankles. You were wearing these sharp twill pants with the cuffs rolled at the bottom and a pair of loafers on your feet, no socks.

Eddie watched as the way the tendons your ankles flexed when you paced about the front of the classroom, gesturing with excitement as you talked about the structure of a story, the beats that keep the reader engaged, the how the theme ties it all into one nice package.

He loved it when you got like this. Loved to see the passion behind your eyes, to hear it in your voice. Loved how adorably geeky you were about literature.

His eyes traveled up your trousers and settled at your waist, admiring how they accentuated your proportions. His hands itched to hold you there.

Something about you made his caveman brain light up.

He wondered how long it had been since someone had touched you like he wanted to.

He would take his time, slow kisses traveling from your mouth all the way down the expanse of your neck. He would use his teeth, make you tremble under his touch and hold your waist tightly against his body to brace you as you melted.

More than anything he wanted to see you come undone. Wanted to pop open every button you had so carefully secured this morning, wanted to run his hands through your hair that you had so thoughtfully styled and leave it an absolute mess. He wanted to devour you.

And just like that Eddie was no longer in class. He was in a bed on top of you, teeth nipping at the delicate skin where your neck meets your shoulders as you meweled beneath him. He was looking down at you now, admiring how the column of your neck presented itself to him when you tipped your head back in ecstasy as he pressed his way into your sopping folds, splitting you open.

You dropped the chalk, shaking him from his reverie.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably in his chair, he was fully hard.

He tried looking out he window to see if he could bring himself back down to earth, but then you bent down to pick the chalk up off the floor and his mind was right back in the sewer.

He was back on top of you, rutting into you, feeling every inch of your tight gummy walls. Making you numb with pleasure, so numb that you forget that anyone that had ever touched you before him. You would cry out his name and come undone around him and he would fill you with so much cum that it would gush out of you when he finally, reluctantly, separated from you.

Eddie swallowed and shifted again, discreetly tucking his painful erection into his waistband. He looked down at his desk, hand resting against his forehead to shield his eyes from your gaze should you happen to look his way.

He fiddled with the pen sitting there, trying to distract himself from the thoughts burning into his mind.

He knew you would be gentle. You would coo at him, dragging your fingernails softly down his back as you lay there together in the darkness, pressing kisses to his temples, his cheekbones, his forehead.

The bell rang, jolting him from his fantasy.

He sat up straight, face flushing as the rest of his classmates packed up their things in a sudden noisy haste. His balls ached. He knew this feeling wasn’t going to go away on its own. The thoughts were ceaseless and he needed to do something about it.

Eddie shoved his notebook into his backpack and rose gingerly from his chair, following the flow of traffic going out the door.

“See you later, Eddie,” you said with a small wave as you leaned against your desk.

He waved back, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks once more.

Eddie knew this school like the back of his hand. He knew that there was a door at the end of a hallway by the gym used for loading and unloading equipment that was typically left unlocked. It lead straight into the parking lot.

Once he exited your classroom, he moved swiftly toward the main hallway, rounded the corner, and made a beeline for the gym. Once he got to the end of that hallway he pressed into the door handle and boom — he was out.

Eddie’s van was easy to spot in the parking lot. He swung open the side door and crawled inside, sliding himself down the one long bench seat in the back. He shut the door promptly, thankful for the privacy that the tinting on the small window next to him provided. The parking lot was empty anyway.

Eddie shook his head as he undid his belt buckle and zipper, he always felt so dirty when he did stuff like this but he knew that if he didn’t he would be miserable for the rest of the day, aching and unable to think of anything else, and that wasn’t good for anyone.

He sighed as he pulled his throbbing cock from the confines of his boxers. He ran his fingers along the underside of it, eyes widening at how damp he was already. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and gave himself a few long strokes, sighing from the delicious friction. He squeezed and swiped his thumb over the tip, over the slit where the precum was starting to bead again. He was so sensitive already, he knew he wasn’t going to last long and that was probably for the best.

Typically Eddie liked to take his time, liked to tease himself. He liked the build up, liked to bring himself just to the edge and then pull back. Again and again until he couldn’t take it anymore. It made the release so much more powerful. It made every spurt of cum he earned feel like an explosion. Absolutely brain blanking.

He shoved his pants and boxers around his ankles. It was not lost on him that he was wearing all black and he knew how much of a mess he was prone to make.

He spat on his right hand and stroked himself slowly again while his left cupped his aching balls to soothe them. It was warm and wet and he thought about you again. Thought about how much you surely longed to be touched, about how loud you’d sigh at the first stretch of feeling him inside your aching cunt. Thought about how wet you were, how the slick would gather around the base of his cock as he fucked into you.

He didn’t even need to stroke the tip, just the knuckle of his index finger bumping against the heart-shaped underside of it was enough, that sweet ridged spot right beneath it that felt exquisite. If he wanted to he could make himself cum by just rubbing his fingertips along that spot over and over.

He wasn’t going that route today though. Today he wanted to feel as much friction as possible while he imagined your perfect tits bouncing up and down each time he buried himself to the hilt inside of you. He wanted to feel the pressure on his shaft as he dreamt about how tight you were, how you’d clench around him as you dug your heels into his ass to try and bring him impossibly closer.

He choked up on his cock with his hand as he increased his pace, hitting that spot with his finger over and over. He was leaking again and it only aroused him more. He swiped at it with his thumb to spread it around, giving him the slip that he craved.

He could feel the pressure start to build, the telltale ache from deep within. His left hand tugged at his heavy balls to draw them further away as they crept closer his body in anticipation, he wanted to hold out just a little longer.

Long enough to imagine rutting deep into your drooling cunt, the filthy sounds that would come from your pretty lips as he struck that sweet spot inside of you, over and over again. The squelching that would come from your swollen lips below as he absolutely reamed you.

There was an animal inside of him. He bit his lip as his heart rate increased, as did the pace of his hand. The chain on his wrist rattled in rhythm with it. He was so sensitive and so close.

He widened his legs to gain the leverage he needed to thrust into his fist. He spat on his hand again and the wetness sent him reeling.

“Ah, fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “You want me to cum deep inside you, hm?” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Suddenly there was a stretch inside. A warm, radiant tingle. “Mmm, I’m gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck.”

His left hand braced the seat, fingernails digging into the vinyl, right hand pumping furiously as he chased his climax.

“Oh shit, fuck, fuck,” he whined, throwing his head back as he gasped.

It was the moment right before the release that was the sweetest. The tingle he could feel radiating from deep inside like a big yawn. He liked to draw these precious seconds out as long as he possibly could. He stopped pumping his hand for just a second and gripped himself at the base to make time slow to a crawl as it ripped through him. There were no thoughts anymore, just blinding pleasure.

Unable to take another millisecond, he pumped his hand again. He threw his head back and groaned as he felt the gooey warmth rise in his cock and explode like a sneeze from deep within.

“Oh fuck,” he whined, panting desperately as he pumped out thick ropes of hot, sticky cum, thinking of nothing but the wave of relief he felt with each delicious spurt.

He came so hard that it arced as it shot from his tip. He might have hit the ceiling with it, he wouldn’t know and didn’t care. There was nothing else in the world that existed outside of his bliss.

His hips bucked and he pumped his hand a few more times, slower now, squeezing out every last delicious drop as he watched the creamy fluid gather around his hand. A wave of peace washed over him.

The beast inside him was satisfied, for now.

He flinched as he let go of his reddened cock, hyper sensitive now. He closed his eyes and sat there for a moment in silence to catch his breath and allow his heart rate to return to a normal pace.

Once the euphoria faded, there was another wave that hit him — disgust.

He looked around the van. There was cum everywhere. On his thighs, on the floor, somehow he managed to hit the back of the drivers seat with it.

He sighed and leaned forward to grab a pile of McDonalds napkins sitting on top of the console between the two front seats. He wiped the cum from his hand first, then his thighs and around the base of his softening cock.

His hair fell forward as he leaned down to pull his pants up — that’s when he noticed it.

There was cum in his hair too.

“Ugh.” He screwed up his face in disgust and grabbed another napkin to wipe it away.

After he’d used up every last flimsy napkin for the dirty job he sat back and assessed his work. It was a satisfactory job, though he realized he really ought to get some sort of trash bag to keep in the car.

As he sat there in the silence of his van there was another feeling that overcame him — hunger.

______

Eddie managed to sneak back into the building just in time to swing through the lunch line. He grabbed a plastic tray from the stack, sliding it along the counter. The kitchen was practically empty. In fact it wasn’t until Eddie tapped his lunch tray on the counter that one of the lunch ladies even noticed he was there.

She looked up at him from the mashed potatoes she had just saran wrapped and sighed. Eddie looked at her with the most pitiful eyes he could muster and she came over, peeling back the saran wrap to plop a serving of mashed potatoes onto his tray followed by a generous helping of gravy. She turned toward another wrapped container and grabbed a fresh pair of tongs to dole out one of the last Salisbury steaks.

“Much appreciated,” Eddie said graciously.

He took his tray, walked swiftly toward the Hellfire table and plunked himself down in his usual seat at the head of it.

“Hey man, what took you so long?” asked Jeff.

“Yeah dude lunch is like, half over,” said Gareth with a little laugh.

“I uh,” Eddie stalled, his mind blanking, completely unsure of what to say, “Had to get something out of my van. Why the fuck does it matter?”

Gareth put his hands up and raised his eyebrows in a joking sort of way, “Just asking, dude, jeez.”

Eddie unwrapped his plastic utensils, reflecting that in hindsight he probably should have stopped at the restroom to wash his hands. He was thankful it wasn’t pizza day.

Jeff flicked at his empty milk carton, making it spin. “So I was telling Gareth that I think we should have some extra band practices this week.”

“Yeah, we could probably tighten up Hand of Doom a bit more. It was a little sloppy last night,” added Gareth, “You wanna come over after school?”

“I’ve got tutoring after school, it’s a Wednesday,” Eddie said with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

Gareth’s eyes lit up, “Oh yeah that’s right. Lucky son of a bitch,” he said, giving Eddie a playful shove against his arm.

“Yeah how’d you score that deal?” asked Jeff.

Eddie sawed at the Salisbury steak with his flimsy plastic knife, “It’s obviously ‘cause I’m so fucking brilliant .”

Gareth snorted, “Wish she thought I was brilliant enough to spend one-on-one time with, she’s pretty hot.”

The table responded in lewd chuckles and nods. Eddie glanced down at his mashed potatoes, offering a weak smile to join in with the others as his heart beat faster.

“Yeah well, stick around for an extra two years, then maybe you can join the gifted and talented club,” he said sarcastically, shoving a bite into his mouth.

The steak, which was a generous thing to call it, was cold. He was too hungry to really care though. He thought of you again, leaving the noisy cafeteria behind as his mind wandered to a restaurant somewhere in another timeline. You would of course be wearing some strappy little number, laughing at his jokes in the candlelight. You would talk about your writing and use words that he vaguely understood and he would just sit there and smile.

Jeff flicked his empty milk carton across the table. It tumbled in front of Eddie, splattering the last of its contents as it bounced off his lunch tray before hitting the floor.

The table erupted in laughter.

Eddie swallowed and sighed.

______

For the first forty minutes of his time with you it was all Eddie could do to keep his eyes on the history textbook in front of him as you pointed out key paragraphs and details that would likely come up on a test. Eddie wrote them down hastily in his beat up spiral notebook, looking up occasionally just to catch your fingers moving delicately across the pages.

This would be a challenge on any given day, but since it was difficult for either of you to read the textbook upside down, today he was seated beside you, and that made it exponentially more challenging.

You were doing that thing that thing where you would bite your lip in concentration as you skimmed through the text. It was all he could do not to stare.

Instead he focused on where his pen met the paper, trying especially not to think about the mess he made in the back seat of his van. He felt absolutely filthy.

He was close enough to smell you. The scent of your shampoo, your laundry detergent mingled with the warm, natural notes of your skin. He wanted to wrap himself up in it. He inched his face closer to the textbook, and your hand, as you pointed out a line about the senate in ancient Rome.

A lock of his hair fell forward and brushed the back of your hand, but to his surprise you did not pull away. Instead your face inched closer to the textbook. So close he could feel the warmth radiating from you. He couldn’t help but glance up. Your eyes met his for just a moment and he swore he saw your cheeks turn a deeper shade.

Your eyes shot over to the clock on the wall. “I have to get going a little early today. I’m having dinner at my mom’s tonight,” you said, clearing your throat a little. “Though if I’m being totally honest I’d much rather be here.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, brows knitting in confusion. “Can’t be that bad, can it?”

“It wouldn’t be if my mom didn’t invite this guy who I haven’t seen since middle school. Family friend, well, his mom is her friend anyway. She’s trying to set us up or something,” you said, rolling your eyes.

Eddie felt a prickle of possessiveness shoot down his spine. “Can’t you just tell her no?”

“Trust me, I want to but it’s tricky with my mom. It’s hard to explain. I just try to keep the peace. If there’s one thing she has no shortage of it’s opinions about what’s best for me.”

“Well, you’re a big girl now. You can make your own decisions.” The words escaped his mouth before he had time to consider them. He was relieved to see the smile in your eyes.

“You’re not wrong,” you said thoughtfully, “You know, moving back home wasn’t even my first choice. I have some friends in Chicago, I could have gone there. Mom thought it would be better for me to be closer to family and honestly I was such a wreck at the time I couldn’t even argue.”

Eddie folded his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowing with concern.

“I mean at first it was comforting being someplace familiar, but at the same time it’s just…” you shook your head, trailing off. “I’m sorry. We should really be focusing on your schoolwork, not my personal life.”

“It’s fine. Besides, your life is way more interesting than ancient Rome anyway,” he said, he wondering for a moment if that was too forward to say.

You sighed, offering him a weak smile. “I certainly wouldn’t say that, and trust me I’m the one living it,” you said with a little shake of your head. “I mean I’m flattered you think so, but we should focus on getting you caught up before the test on Friday.”

He watched your hand as you tucked your hair behind your ear, the soft curve of your eyelashes as you glanced down at his textbook. There was a trouble behind your eyes. A sadness that he wished he could mend.

Instead he just scooted closer to you and picked up his pen as you thumbed through the pages.

______

I have one request — If you enjoyed this chapter, especially if you ask/asked to be put on the tag list, I ask in return that you REBLOG and tell me what you like about this fic, even just something short and sweet! Please engage with me, it’s all I get in return for writing a story that you love for free 💜

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson older reader #my writing

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thestobingirlie · 19 days

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Stancy antis need to stop using "he couldn't remember Nancy's favourite song" as an argument for why Steve 'doesn't deserve' Nancy.

1, favourite songs change. They haven't spent a lot of time together for over a year at the time of s4. That is plenty of time for a favourite song/ band/ artist to change with new releases and new artists coming onto the scene. And tastes change. She could have been into top 40 pop, or rock, or she might have got into the punk music that Jonathan listened to.

2, he never said anything about the music. He didn't make any indication to whether or not he knew what her favourite songs were. He called her name, begged for her to wake up, and shouted for the others to hurry up.

3, him knowing her favourite song didn't really matter that much. Because they were limited to whatever music was available in Eddie's trailer. Eddie was a metalhead and Wayne was an older man, so chances of there being anything to Nancy's music taste were slim. Even if Steve knew it, they probably didn't have it, and they didn't have time to get it. So it wouldn't have helped anyway.

And it's almost always ronance stans that argue this point. Sure Robin was trying to find music that could help Nancy, but Steve was too busy staying with Nancy, making sure she wasn't getting all broken up and dying a painful death. What else was he supposed to do? Leave her all alone in the Upside Down while under Vecna's curse so no one knew how she was?

people are seriously using that as an argument lmao? if you asked me at gunpoint what my favourite song was, i couldn’t tell you, let alone my loved ones

we all know that if steve truly loved nancy he would’ve been keeping her favourite tape up his ass, ready at all times in case nancy suddenly got vecna’d 🙄🙄

(also. kinda ridiculous for r/nancers to use this anyway because robin didn’t fucking know nancy’s favourite song either and she’d looked through nancy’s tapes, like, the day before.)

#stancy #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stranger things #anti ronance #asks #anon

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nathanielzalexandria · 10 months

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It's 11:40 and I don't really care for soulmate Aus but I have an idea for one

Steve "I'm so unlovable that even my own soulmate does not want me" Harrington is soulmate with Eddie "Reactionary is my middle name/I put my foot in my mouth regularly/ Pessissmism about anything outside his group" Munson and gets rejected by the metalhead.

And its angsty af.

Someone tell me if this exists or not

#it doesn't need to be completely angsty #they realize that they are soulmates and while beautiful hope bubbles up in Steve's chest eddie just nopes and walks off like nothing #steddie #soulmate au #steddie au #steddie fanfic #fanfic

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djosephqueery · 1 year

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We talk a lot about Steve getting into Eddie's interests- playing D&D, listening to metal, having Eddie read LotR to him- and some people have written about Eddie getting into Steve's interests, but there's still quite an imbalance. So here are my thoughts on what aspects of Steve's life Eddie gets excited about.

Eddie really enjoys listening to music with Steve. While he may be a metalhead, that doesn't mean that's the only genre he listens to, and to limit him to that would be an injustice to his character. First and foremost Eddie likes music. He likes music that pushes boundaries and experiments with sound and makes people think. What a hypocrite he'd be if he refused to listen to anything outside his preferred genre.

One of his favorite things to do with Steve is swap music. They'll sit and alternate playing Slayer and Electric Light Orchestra, Dio and Billy Joel. They'll pick up new tapes from artists neither have heard of and talk about what they do and don't like about them. They like discovering tapes they have in common in their collections- Fleetwood Mac, Queen, and Led Zeppelin, to name a few.

They go to concerts together regularly as dates. Mostly local groups neither has heard of before, but always enjoyable.

Eddie figures out early on in their relationship that Steve likes to sing. That he's good at it. That he thought about a musical theatre career but decided he didn't want to deal with all the rejection that comes with auditioning. Eddie decides to learn all of Steve's favorite songs- pop and otherwise- on guitar so Steve can sing along when he plays. So that when Eddie is mindlessly strumming while trying to get out restless energy, Steve will know some of the songs. He even gets Steve onstage a couple times for some slower songs after they've been together a while.

Eddie listens to Top 40 hits with Steve (though he'd never admit that to the kids. Not because he's ashamed, but because they would never stop teasing him about how gone he is for Steve if they knew), and learns Steve's favorite tracks so he can play them for him.

It took a very long time, but after seeing how legitimately excited Steve gets over sports, Eddie decided to give that a try too. He watches games with Steve, tapes them for him when Steve has a long shift and can't watch it live. He still doesn't quite understand the rules and mixes up terms, but he can admit that it's fun to try and follow along and predict strategies and bemoan bad ref calls.

Steve has even gotten Eddie to go to a few games in person with him. It didn't take much convincing, Eddie talks a big talk, but he's a sucker for spending time with Steve and seeing him happy. He's come to the conclusion that being in a crowd at a sports game isn't all that different from being in a crowd at a concert (as far as people gathering to watch a common interest goes), and energy is infectious. He ends up liking the first game he attends much more than he anticipated.

It helps that he likes trying to get the Kiss Cam to show him and Steve.

#this is obviously in an 80s without homophobia with the kiss cam thing #Eddie still refuses to actually play sports #but he loves watching Steve play with the kids #the music thing is more of a mutual interest than Eddie getting into one of Steve's #but I'm counting it because it's something they both get excited about #and Eddie gets really into Steve's tastes #as well as introducing his own #I want to write more about Steve's interests but we get so little about him in canon other than Jock TM #so to me he's a singer #is this projection again?#I'll never tell #it may also be a little influenced by the fact that Joe Keery can in fact sing #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things

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morganski-19 · 11 months

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Eddie: *singing Dancing Queen in the shower because he thinks no one is home*

Robin: *who walked into the trailer because Eddie forgot to open the door, knocks on the door*

Eddie: Don’t come in, don’t come in

Robin: *smug* I’m not interrupting anything am I?

Eddie: Nope, nothing at all

Robin: Really? Cause it sounds like the 70s were coming from the shower. Which is weird since your such a metalhead right?

Eddie: It was a ghost

Robin: So a ghost is in your shower singing top 40 hits?

Eddie: Yep. A ghost who died in the 70s and lived pop music. Who else would sing this song?

Robin: Steve would. He actually loves that song if I’m remembering correctly, which I am because I’m his best friend

Eddie: *sighs* If you tell him this, I will kill you

Robin: I will definitely be telling him about this

#and then steve never lets eddie live it down #but then make eddie sing it for him #steddie #incorrect quotes #eddie and robin #steve and robin #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things

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thekidsfromyestergay · 6 months

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Being the only fem in the pit is the funniest experience ever like why am I in a slip dress and tiara full body slamming into a metalhead guy in his 40s

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bettyfrommars · 4 months

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Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Masterlist playlist

It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie works as maintenance staff, is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy and Steve are both metalheads, and Jason returns as a character you love to hate. Also, a good helping of stubborn/grumpy Eddie.

a/n: hi! the good news is that this fic has already been written, I just need to change the OC to a reader insert and move some stuff around. I had every intention of leaving this to rot, but I've been thinking a lot about it since I finished my other series and decided to pull it out of the rubble to bring back some summer feels. Eddie is in his late twenties in this, which is incompatible with the original timeline, I know, but this absolutely had to be an 80's fic, not a 90's one. The playlist is just too precious to me to change that. Eddie also has a younger cousin named Jamie.

Reader is called Bird as a nickname. No major warning for this part, but my blog is 18+MDNI

I had a bit of a teaser here when I first posted this but have since changed how it goes in the story, so I removed it from my post. First chapter will be out in a couple days ❤️

#Dirty Metal Summer #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie munson series #Dirty Dancing au #Eddie Munson

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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Eddie, Baby

Here’s a little drabble I have had in my drafts for a while now, but now it’s a cute little oneshot! (On AO3 too!)

“Robin, I need your help.”

They were waiting outside the school at the moment, the bell was due to ring any minute and it was a rare Friday they both had off, so they were picking up the kids to go to the arcade.

Well, they were picking up one half, Eddie was going to be picking up the other half and his bandmates.

“What’s wrong now, Dingus?”

“I need a way to make Eddie realize I’ve been flirting back this whole time.”

“Why haven’t you just made a move already?”

“I don’t know if he’s actually into me or that’s just how he is..he could just be flirting to be annoying, but I’m doing it for real and I don’t think he realizes.”

“So why do you need to make a big to-do about it? Just tell him to either date you or back off with the flirting.”

“I don’t know Robin, I just want to do something special. I’m really really into him. Like, so into him, I don’t think I will ever ask anyone else out ever again.”

“Oh dingus..”

“I know that sounds dramatic but it’s true.”

“You know I’m going to tell this story at y’all’s wedding right?”

“Oh shut up..” Steve says, turning red.

“I think I have an Idea.” Steve says to Robin one day at work about a week later. They are both working at one of those novel/retro/50s style diners now while they work through their common core classes at the local community college.

“Oh yeah? Shoot.” Robin’s taken care of all the customers on her side of the order window so she leans forward on the back counter to talk to Steve through it, who’s grilling on the other side.

“I’ve been writing..”

“Writing…?”

“Writing music. I may or may not have written a song about Eddie.”

Robin is stunned for a moment then says “Wow, you really are gone on him, huh?”

Robin expected a “Shut up, Robs!” or something, but she got a “...Yeah, I really am.” instead.

“Okay Dingus, what do you need me to do?”

“Can you play the drums?”

“Uh, yeah a little?”

“Do you think you can get Nancy to help? She plays piano..”

Again Robin is at a loss for words. “Sure, Steve, I’ll ask her.”

-----

They had been practicing for weeks when their opportunity to play it for Eddie made itself known.

“Heeeyyy Stevie~” Eddie drawled when he came into the diner that day.

Steve, who was mopping before closing up, sighed slightly and took out his earbud before answering “Yes, Eddie?” Not looking up at the metalhead.

Metalhead was said with love mind you, and Eddie is definitely one. Despite it being 40-ish years ago now, Eddie dresses like, listens to the music of, and lives like a metalhead from the 80s. Like he was plucked right out of 1985 and brought to the present day. The only discrepancy you may see are the beat up old iPhone (and beat up is putting it modestly, screen cracked and blacked out in places, busted headphone jack that had to be twisted into just right in order to work, no case to be seen) and the earbuds he always has tucked into one or both of his ears.

“Wanna be one of my groupies?”

“Eddie, you don’t need to ask me like that every time you guys have a gig, just tell me when and where and I’ll be there to throw my panties at you.”

Eddie beamed at him “Next Saturday there is an open mic night up in Indy. We’re going to go and take our chances at there being an industry scout somewhere in the crowd!”

“Sounds great Eds! We’ll be there.” Steve smiled back at him “I’ll let Robs and Nancy know too.”

“Maybe we should make it a weekend? You know of any places that aren’t ungodly expensive to stay at?”

“I’ll be able to find something, send me the address of the place and I will look. And for the love of god, PLEASE use the talk to text so I don’t have to decipher what you were trying to type on only half your keyboard.”

Somehow Eddie’s grin got even bigger. “You’re the best Stevie, I’ll send it to you! He said as he headed out the door, blowing Steve a kiss like he always does.

Steve rolled his eyes and pretended to catch the kiss and tuck it into his apron pocket.

Steve put his headphone back in and called Robin. “Hey Robs, no no I’m good just finishing up on the floors. Eddie came in an– no of course not, just being normal Eddie. Yeah so he came in and said Corroded Coffin are going to an open mic night up in Indy. Yeah. Yeah, not this coming Saturday, Next Saturday. Yeah I think it’s time..let Nancy know will you? Also you know I hate to ask, but will you pleeeeeaase ask Frank for us to have that weekend off? You know he loves you. Thanks Rob, you’re the best. I’ll talk to you later. Love you too, bye.”

Steve hangs up, and smiles to himself before finishing up on the floors.

—--

Eddie was vibrating with excitement all the way up to Indy. Steve had booked the hotel rooms for them all, and he, Robin, and Nancy headed up there early to get everything brought to their rooms before they’d meet at the bar.

They head straight there and park around back where they can start unloading and find Robin’s truck already there with Steve already hefting some of Eddie’s amps out of the back.

“Hey handsome, come here often?” Eddie calls to Steve as he gets out of his van.

Steve chuckled at that “Should ask you the same thing, hot stuff.”

“Girls, girls, you’re both super pretty and all that, but Corroded Coffin is two sets away, you guys gotta get going.” Robin calls out from the backdoor, pointing at her bare wrist like she’s tapping on a watch

“Yeah yeah, we’re coming.” Eddie rolls his eyes then tries to jump up to the level of the loading dock.

Big distinction there, the “tries”, since he doesn't quite make it and would have fallen right on his ass if Steve didn’t just about snatch him out of thin air.

“Good lord, Eddie. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

Steve’s strong arms were grasped tight around Eddie’s waist and Eddie had to really concentrate hard on not letting his brain go all fuzzy at the contact.

“You should’ve let me fall Stevie, would’ve been a perfect chance to tell you how hard I’ve fallen for you.” Eddie bats his eyelashes and clasps his hands together at his chest.

Steve rolls his eyes then pulls Eddie close saying “You’re such a tease.” before letting him go and heading inside with Eddie’s sweetheart in her case.

‘Fucking hell.’ is all Eddie can think before his feet are carrying him inside to get set up.

Their set goes amazing! Everything went perfect, and he could see Steve, Robin, and Nancy at the bar, and even a couple other people that looked a bit too stiff to be regular patrons...

They take their bows, and head off stage, taking their amps and equipment off with them in a couple quick trips to get the stage cleared for the next group. Dropping their things into Eddie’s van and saying a quick goodbye to the other guys (who were too young to drink anyhow, and giving them the keys for their rooms.), Eddie headed back inside to search for his other friends.

He was stopped briefly by one of those stiff-looking people as he headed through the backstage area, Eddie promising to give him a call once he'd done his research about signing.

Eddie barely registers that the emcee is introducing the next act because holy fuck how hard is it to find three barely adults in one fucking gay bar? He wants to tell them the news and Jesus Christ he’s about to really start worrying (Did they get kicked out for some reason? Did they not like his show and just up and left before they were done?) when he hears a new voice through the speakers.

Eddie freezes.

No.

There’s no way.

He turns around slowly and sure enough, there they are. Up on the stage.

‘How’d they get up there without me seeing them? We were literally up on that same stage not 5 minutes ago??’ Eddie thinks to himself before he’s really registering what Steve is saying.

“My name is Steve and these two lovely ladies, Robin and Nancy, are here to help me confess something to one special person in the audience.”

The crowd oohs and ahs, everyone looking at everyone else around them wondering who the lucky person is; Eddie wants to too but he physically cannot get his eyes to move from Steve’s back as he turns to check on his equipment because no fucking way.

No fucking way is Steve about to start singing.

‘I mean, he’s literally on a stage with a fucking guitar around his neck (hot), what do you think he’s gonna do up there? Strip?’ Now that’d be a sight.

But as it turns out, there is so fucking way.

The tune starts off small and quiet like a lullaby from Nancy’s piano before Steve starts playing himself, running his fingers up and down the neck of his guitar strumming out some little pop tune that Eddie really wants to make jokes about, really wants to say “Of course that’d be what Steeeve Harrington would be able to play.” but he can’t because then Steve starts to sing.

Oh hey, they actually sound really good, where did this come from?? Also, who is Steve singing to? Eddie knows it can’t be him, he’s been flirting with Steve constantly since Eddie had come out to them, and Steve has taken it in stride, even joking along with him a couple times but neve_

“Whoa, but I hear your voice; it calls me like the night, it’s singing in each syllable I write..”

“Oh Eddie, baby, won’t you come to my arms tonight? I beg and plead you, please succumb to my charms tonight.”

Jesus H. Christ this is not happening.

‘Me??‘ Eddie’s brain short circuits. ‘He’s confessing this to me? That can’t be right…’

Eddie does and doesn’t want to believe it but he can’t help but to believe his own mind’s ramblings while processing the lyrics to Steve's song.

It's been about 10 whole seconds of existing in the same air as Steve's singing and Eddie wants to scream, cry, and throw up simultaneously.

For the rest of the song Eddie’s eyes are glued to Steve. His face, his hands on the guitar (hot, again), the sweat shining on his forehead and sticking a few stray strands of hair to it.

When they finish, the crowd erupts into applause and wolf whistles as they take a small bow and step down from the stage.

Eddie thought his feet would be frozen but he finds himself surging forward towards the backstage area, pushing bodies aside, pushing doors open, all the way to the back of the bar where he finds them loading their gear back into Robin’s truck.

“Eddie! Did you like the song?” Eddie hears Robin ask him but his focus is trained on Steve, who looked over at him as soon as Robin had called out Eddie’s name.

Eddie registered a bit of fear in his expression as he stalked toward Steve, before he leaping on top of him, knocking them both to the ground as Eddie kissed Steve stupid.

“You are. So fucking. Hot I can’t. Stand it.” Eddie punctuated each section with a kiss to somewhere on Steve’s grinning face.

“I take it you liked the song?”

Eddie kissed Steve full on the mouth, starting off with the feverish pace he had when he jumped him, but softening it as Steve’s hold on his waist (and his lips against his own) grounded him.

“I loved the song, Stevie.” Eddie said when he finally broke away for air. “Why though?”

“Why did I write it?” Steve asked, confused.

Eddie nodded.

“I wrote it for you.”

“Obviously! But you could’ve just asked me out, Steve! I’ve been full-on flirting with you for months now.”

Steve laughed, stroking Eddie’s cheekbone with his thumb. “I wanted to make it as memorable as you, Eds.” he said before pulling Eddie back down into another kiss.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steveddie #st #st ficlet #st drabble #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #stranger things drabble #eddie baby #noelle writes

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