#raen’s eddieverse

[idaoftheburningmind]

This brought back a lot of uncomfortable memories 😅

What I will always admire though about @pluvialpoet ‘s Shy Reader x Eddie series is its authenticity. It stopped being fan fiction for me two chapters in and has instead become the Rockwell portrait equivalent of growing up geek in any decade.

The Reader thrilling to and fretting over her growing closeness with Eddie, her pure anguish at her first experience of jealousy, then her quiet defeat at the end was all so real and bittersweet. Yet there is kindness in Raen’s writing — as though she knew that a whole community of us would remember, particularly that sense of defeat, and live to tell the tale.

Now that there’s tension between the Reader and Eddie, the next chapter might deepen the conflict. While that makes me worry for these characters (yes, invested follower here), I’m also rooting for the day Eddie tells the Reader, “… As you wish.”

I'm dying to know who confesses first/makes the first move? Eddie or shy!reader?

so, our darling shy!reader kissed him on the cheek on his birthday, right? right. so, there’s been a massive shift in their dynamic (at least for eddie) but our girl is still grappling with her feelings for him  🤭 so, what happens when someone starts hitting on Eddie after the shift in their dynamic? 👀 (this blurb is part of a collection and can be read alone, or in addition to the ones listed below)

✨ shy!reader x eddie masterlist ✨

April 1986

“God, he’s so hot.” 

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard it, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Through a thick cloud of smoke and the haze of the lights shining onstage,  you follow their line of sight and your chest tightens with something you can’t quite place.

You’ve heard the comments before- granted, they were far and few between- but they were a lot more common outside of Hawkins, where people weren’t afraid of being crucified for sharing their opinion. Usually, it never bothered you. Most times, you found yourself silently agreeing with said compliments before you caught yourself and snapped out of your daze, but something is different tonight.

Your friends played a great set. It wasn’t the first time you’ve seen Corroded Coffin perform live, but tonight they put on an incredible show- with a set comprised of all of your favorite songs, coincidentally. Jeff nailed every guitar solo, Gareth never missed a beat, Chris carried each song with his bass, and Eddie had every single eye on him as the frontman. A few girls even looked like they were visibly drooling at one point, which made you shift uncomfortably in your seat at the bar.

“I wonder if he has a girlfriend,” The same girl that’s been ogling Eddie ponders aloud, and a few of her friends chime in with an equal amount of interest, but not quite as much enthusiasm. “Maybe I should ask him after the show.”

It shouldn’t bother you- it really shouldn’t bother you- but you find yourself biting your tongue- hard enough to lose feeling in the muscle while you force yourself to keep quiet. It’s none of your business, really. Words from a private conversation you were never meant to hear shouldn’t feel like a stake plunging into your heart and robbing you of breath, but suddenly, your chest feels tight and it’s harder to breathe.

You’ve been friends with Eddie for more than two years, and within those two years a wonderful, fulfilling friendship bloomed between the two of you. Eddie broke the ice by reading the same books as you did- although he only ever admitted to reading one, you saw Carrie peeking out of his backpack one afternoon, but never mentioned it- and you learned how to make an entire D&D campaign for his birthday. There were many more instances where the two of you started to grow closer- like when you’d share your lunch with him when someone would steal his lunch money, or how he offered to give you a ride when your dad was running late, and how he always stayed with you until he arrived.

You and Eddie were friends- really, really good friends.

Which was why it shouldn’t bother you that someone was showing interest in him. Yet, your stomach is churning and your chest feels tight with a feeling you’re unfamiliar with. Maybe it’s the fact that you don’t think that hot is the word you’d use to describe Eddie. You’ve always found him handsome, charming, funny, talented, kind and-

“I wonder if keeps those rings on during-“ She starts, and a wave of warmth washes over you once you realize what she might be implying. You’re not sure what comes over you, and if anyone asked, you wouldn’t be able to explain it, but something ignites in the pit of your stomach- simultaneously easing and aggravating the nerves that reside there- and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself interrupting her.

“He does.”

For a second, you hope that your comment wasn’t loud enough to catch their attention, but as soon as the words leave your mouth three heads turn to face you.

“Sorry?” The girl asks, her gaze narrowed. There’s no real remorse in her tone. It’s taunting.

Realizing that you’ve caught their attention and that they’re all waiting for an answer, you think of something quick- something that will hopefully deter them from making any more comments about Eddie- your friend.

“He has a girlfriend.” You explain, hoping that the little white lie would be enough to perturb them. Except, it isn’t, and the same girl that’s been staring at Eddie all-night begins to laugh- making a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten involved. It wasn’t your place and now you’re paying the price.

She takes a step closer to you, and although you’re nearly the same height, it feels like she’s towering over you. It’s incredibly intimidating and you shift your weight back and forth, uncomfortably.

She’s gorgeous. Her hair was wild, yet tame. Her long mesh shirt leaving little to the imagination, along with her tiny leather skirt, showcasing her lean body. Her lips are stained red and outlined in black, but her makeup isn’t all that heavy. She looks like she barely needs it. She’s confident, outspoken, and outgoing- everything you’re not.

“Well, I don’t see her here,” She taunts with a faux grin- one that’s sickeningly sweet and obviously a warning that she’s not interested in playing nice.

You know you should just accept defeat and let it go. It’s not your place to fight Eddie’s battles. Your heart sinks when you think about walking away and giving her the opportunity to ask him out. What if he said yes? What if they started dating and she became his girlfriend? Would there still be a place for you in his life? The thought makes your breath hitch. It’s clear you’re not thinking rationally, but your reply takes you by surprise.

“S-she’s standing right in front of you.” There’s not an ounce of confidence in your voice, and you don’t think it’s possible- for the girl’s laughter to become any more lethal- but it does.

She can barely catch her breath. Her eyes scan you up and down, starting with your shoes, your cardigan, and then eventually the nervous look on your face before she howls once more. Beside her, her friends chime in- one less enthusiastically than the other- but still critical.

“You can’t be serious,” She looks down on you again and you’ve never felt so small. “You honestly expect me to believe that a guy like that is dating someone like you?” There’s a bitterness to her insult, and you don’t have to ask for clarification to understand what she’s implying. “You’re full of shit. Guys like that don’t look twice at girls like you. Guys like him belong with girls like me- girls that he won’t get bored with.”

With tears in your eyes, you start to feel dizzy. If the initial confrontation wasn’t enough to make your heart race and your entire body start to shake, her cruelty has heightened your anxiety tenfold. But was it truly cruelness, or blatant honesty?

Maybe she had a point- and maybe that’s why it stung so much.

Eddie was so far out of your league. Honestly, you’re surprised that he’s friends with you. It’s been twelve days since you boldly kissed him on the cheek and you’ve spent those last twelve days overanalyzing everything- especially your feelings for him. How was your dad able to decipher your complicated feelings years ago, and you’ve only just come to terms with them? There’s no way to pinpoint when you started feeling something more for him beyond friendship, but now that you’re aware of your desire, you’re also crushed beneath the weight of reality- that Eddie is so far out of your league you’re not even playing the same game.

Her lips part to tear you don’t further when you feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind.

“Hey!” Eddie beams happily, his adrenaline high having just finished performing not too long ago. You stiffen in his hold when he tightens his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”

Ever since his birthday, he’s had his arms around you any chance he gets. He walks you to class with an arm around your shoulder, hugs you every time you part, and even likes to wrap his arms around your waist when you’re searching through your locker.

“You were great, as always.” You offer quickly, without much enthusiasm, and the girls that had been giving you a hard time before are stunned silent.

“We’re thinking of going to get something to eat, you hungry?” He asks, paying no mind to the girls who scoff and turn their noses up in the air.

“Yeah, I can eat.” You lie. Truthfully, you’ve lost your appetite.

As you and Eddie make plans, the girls that were giving you a hard time reluctantly walk away, leaving the two of you alone. Once they’re gone, you try to wiggle free from Eddie’s hold. It doesn’t feel right. It feels like it’s suffocating and restraining instead of comforting and warm. You don’t deserve to know the comfort his arms bring- it hurts too much.

“Great! We’re just finishing loading everything up,” He smiles, completely oblivious to what he interrupted a few moments earlier. “What are you thinking? I could go for burgers and milkshakes, or pizza and ice cream- I’m starving!” He laughs, untangling his arms from around your body to make a dramatic display of rubbing a hand over his stomach. While his antics would’ve normally made you laugh- or at the very least crack a smile- something is very different tonight. You only offer him a gentle nod before starting off towards his van and when he finally finishes talking to the manager at The Hideout, he’s surprised to see you sitting in the back with Chris and Jeff.

Gareth’s occupying the seat next to him- your seat- and when he narrows his eyes searching for an explanation, Gareth only shrugs.

The drive to the diner is pretty silent, but the whole way there Eddie can’t help but wonder, what did those girls say to you?

Send me some feedback! Requests: OPEN!

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[idaoftheburningmind]

No one watches respectfully as Eddie Munson plays a guitar solo. No one. Not even the bassist of a rival band apparently, as seen in this story from @pluvialpoet.

Raen is in her element depicting Eddie and the Reader of her story in the hot milieu of local band culture. There’s a thrum of anticipation throughout that isn’t just the powerful attraction between the two characters; it’s the audience, ourselves included, gathering for a spectacle, spoiling for a showdown.

“…It’s intoxicating. It’s chaotic. It’s dangerous- just like your budding attraction towards him.”

There’s a synaesthete’s sensibility in the way Raen writes the Reader’s experience of Eddie, and we totally get it, we are all here for it.

It’s embarrassing, honestly. The feeling- a delicate mix of both nerves and excitement- reminds you of teenage rebellion. He’s everything you’ve been told to stay away from, but you’ve indulged in temptation and you simply can’t get enough. You’re addicted.

“… reminds you of teenage rebellion” is just gorgeous writing and evokes all the feral tendencies that being around Eddie Munson inspires (we all imagine it, Raen just accurately captures it).

And Corroded Coffin vs. Eternal Hereafter? The band names are a bonus; it’s the upcoming battle of hearts and minds that promises to be epic.

Hello! I've read other Eddie Munson work you've written and adored the hell out of it! I was wondering if I could place in a request for him? I had an idea about a "battle of the bands" thing between Eddie and the (f)reader. He's metal/rock and she's pop/alternative and it having a loose enemies to lovers trope [I genuinely don't think Eddie could be enemies with a band simply because of them having a different sound than his]. Can be blurbs, headcanons, a one-shot, whatever you wanna write, or if you don't wanna write it at all just say so and I'll be on my merry way reading more Eddie stuff and vibing.

hey, guess what? you get your request! 🎉 now introducing: rival bassist!reader x eddie- a collection of blurbs featuring rival bassist!fem!reader and eddie!!! so excited for this!!! thanks for the inspiration! and you’re absolutely right, eddie simply couldn’t ‘hate’ someone for being in a rival band, but he could start sneaking around with them and maybe even develop feelings for them😏 (NSFW WARNING! ⚠️ oral fixation, making out, thigh riding, no actual smut, MINORS DNI!!!) (this blurb is part of a collection and can be read alone, or in addition to the ones listed below)

🎸rival!bassist x rockstar!eddie masterlist 🎸

November 1989

“I bet they’re wondering where you are, sweetheart,” He teases against your neck, one hand tangled in your hair while the other rests against your hip. “Bet they’re gonna come looking for you any second now-“ A sloppy kiss lands at the corner of your lips and you tighten your grip on the leather of his collar. “What would they say, if they saw you like this? With me?”

He smells like cigarettes, sweat, and shampoo- a combination that’s absolutely mundane, but so uniquely him that you’ve grown to recognize the smell. It makes your heart race. You’re drawn to it- not the combination itself, but the unique blend of him. So much so that you’ve learned to recognize it in a crowd. It’s intoxicating. It’s chaotic. It’s dangerous- just like your budding attraction towards him.

��P-probably the same thing your friends would say if they-“ It’s hard to form a coherent thought with the way his lips continue to assault your skin- skin that’s already so flushed and covered with a sheen layer of sweat, even before you’ve played your set. Eddie has that effect on you- the ability to spike your adrenaline and get your heart racing with just the feverish press of his lips. It’s embarrassing, honestly. The feeling- a delicate mix of both nerves and excitement- reminds you of teenage rebellion. He’s everything you’ve been told to stay away from, but you’ve indulged in temptation and you simply can’t get enough. You’re addicted.

You can’t tell if it’s him that makes your heart race, or if it’s the traitorous acts you commit with him that make you crave these brief moments together. Either way, you should’ve heeded the warnings and stayed away from him- but you’ve never been one for following rules.

With your back pressed against the wall and his thigh between your legs, you’re having trouble thinking clearly. It’s dark backstage, only a few overhead lights lining the dark hallways of the venue, and while the two of you aren’t exactly secluded, you’ve managed to find a corner that offers you a semblance of privacy. Still, someone could walk by at any moment and catch the two of you.

The thought isn’t enough to deter you. If anything, it adds to the thrill.

His tongue traces the column of your throat and you struggle to keep your eyes open. The hand in your hair moves down to your neck and cold metal meets searing skin when he wraps his hand around your throat. You’ve always admired the rings on his fingers, but you adore them when they’re around your throat. He laughs against your collarbone when your movements against his thigh falter.

It’s a massive boost to his ego whenever the two of you manage to slip away from prying eyes. This secret affair started months ago, and ever since then, Eddie’s been hooked on you. You were the first one to make a move, waiting until you knew for certain the two of you were alone and none of your band mates, or his, would find the two of you before you pulled him into a heated kiss. It was Eddie’s first, but you didn’t know that. It was all teeth, tongues, and spit. It was messy and impulsive- chaotic and compelling- and from the very first brush of his tongue against yours, you knew you were addicted.

Since then, your illicit affair has continued to progress in secret. While the two of you haven’t gone all the way yet, you’re the first girl- the only girl- he’s ever kissed, touched, and gone down on. The first time you went down on him he nearly creamed his pants. As soon as your hands reached for his belt buckle, he knew he was done for.

You were something else entirely, something he was never prepared for. From the first time your lips met his, he wondered if every kiss felt like that- like he couldn’t breathe, and it was his last care in the whole entire world as long as it meant that your lips would never leave his again- and every kiss with you, did.

Maybe it was the fact that the two of you were supposed to hate each other. You were rivals, after all. But neither the success of your band nor his could keep the two of you away from one another for very long. Instead of competing with each other, you recognize each other’s unique talent, and while your band mates don’t feel the same way, you and Eddie share the same mutual feeling of admiration- one that extends beyond your physical attraction to each other.

“Ngh!” He sucks the spot behind your ear, the one that makes your eyes roll back every time his tongue brushes over it, and your eyes fly open. “That’s too high, and you know it-“ Your hands meet his chest, gently shoving him off of you while you scold him for marking you someplace visible. As soon as he’s out of your grip, you’re reaching for him once more and he bites back a smile when you instruct him to, “Go lower.”

He raises an eyebrow in question, but your fingers are already fumbling with the buttons on your vest. You’re clawing at the tight leather, eager to unfasten every clasp that keeps you separated from him and he grins- something wicked and fueled by unadulterated lust.

“Want me to mark these pretty tits?” A few months ago, he never could’ve imagined himself saying such a thing. The very thought of uttering such a sentence would’ve made his cheeks heat with embarrassment. But Eddie’s not the same guy he was a few months ago. Ever since your rendezvous started, ever since you came into his life, you’ve corrupted him- in the very best way possible. Now, he confidently palms at your chest, his large hand giving your breast a gentle squeeze while he nips at the tender flesh, causing you to let out a breathy moan. “Want me to give you something to remember me by?”

He’s cockier than the last time you were together. Gone is the shy, quiet guy you practically threw yourself at, and in his place is a smug, cocky, teasing bastard. He’s getting off on it, too- teasing you. It makes him feel like he’s never felt before- powerful, confident, and in control. You think the power is going straight to his head.

He needs to be knocked down a few pegs.

With a harsh tug of his hair, you pull his face away from your breasts and his eyes widen when he realizes he might’ve done something that hurt you. His lips part to ask if you’re alright, but the words die on his tongue when you place a single finger against his mouth, effectively silencing him.

“Want you to stop talking,” Your lips ghost over his, teasing him, and before he can lean in and press his lips to yours once more, you force him to turn his head to the side and bare his throat to you. It’s so pretty, and he whimpers when you trace the thick vein along his neck with the tip of your tongue. It’s absolute torture for him, but he doesn’t want you to stop. Luckily for him, you have no intention of doing so. A broken noise gets caught in the back of his throat when you rest your teeth against his pulse point- the pressure just barely there- and he lets out a low groan while he flexes beneath you. His hands tighten against your waist, rocking you back and forth the way he wants you to. He doesn’t seem to grasp the fact that he’s no longer the one in control. Another harsh tug of his locks has him turning towards you with big, brown, pleading eyes and now, it’s your turn to smile. “And put your mouth to work.” You tell him, forcing his mouth back down to your chest and holding him there by the back of his head.

He immediately takes the hint and starts licking, sucking, and biting any part of you he can get his mouth on. His thumb brushes against one of your pebbled nipples and you let out a shuddered breath. “Eddie-“

“Love it when you say my name,” He mumbles against you, removing the hand at your waist so he can palm himself through his jeans. “Fuck.”

“Don’t get used to it, Munson,” You warn, or at least try to before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth and starts teasing the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue.

“You telling me this is a one-time thing, sweetheart?” He teases, and you nearly bang your head on the wall behind you. “It wasn’t the last time or the time before that.” He reminds you, and the bluntness of his reply has you clenching around nothing. “I doubt this’ll be the last time you drag me into some dark cor-“

“You dragged me into this dark corner.” You quickly correct him, and his laugh rumbles against your chest.

“Yeah, but you’re the one that followed willingly, didn’t you?” He revels in the silence that follows from the lack of your reply, and he takes the opportunity to tease you further- now that he knows he’s got you right where wants you. “You’re also the one that started getting off on my thigh when all I wanted to do was kiss you a little.” Your mouth falls open, and the little whine that follows goes straight to his cock. “Admit it,” He growls, “You missed me.”

“Never,” You lie, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself while you continue to ride his thigh.

“Never?” He frowns, pulling back a little to look at you and you groan at the loss of contact. He thinks you look beautiful- your pupils blown wide, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, and the way your hair is sticking to your forehead- and makes it a point to commit the moment to memory. “‘S a shame, baby, because I missed you.” You try to speed up against his thigh, but two strong hands halt your movements, abruptly.

Drunk on pleasure, and dizzy with desire, your mind is reeling further and further away from rational thinking. Suddenly, it’s hard to find a rebuttal that’ll knock him off his game, the same way he’s managed to render you completely submissive to him. His hands travel to your thighs, and he doesn’t even have to ask for you to know what he’s insinuating. You can see it in his eyes.

As soon as he hoists you up, your legs wrap around his waist. He presses himself against you and you can feel the hard outline of his cock through the rough material of his jeans. You’re so close, but you need more friction, and he’s purposely holding himself against you, refusing to move. Eddie loves watching you wither because of him, but as much as he enjoys teasing you, he’s not going to last much longer.

“So…fucking…much,” He growls, his lips finding your neck while he punctuates each word with a sharp thrust that rubs against your clothed clit just right.

You’ve never needed him as badly as you need him right now. You’ve always imagined what it would feel like to have his impressive length filling you. He was thicker- and slightly longer- than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you’ve longed for the day where you got to feel him inside of you- to feel him stretching you, filling you, and claiming you in ways you’ve never been stretched, filled or claimed before.

Unfortunately, this was neither the time of place.

“We don’t have ti-“

The sound of your name echoes down the long, abandoned hallway as someone calls out for you. You quickly shove Eddie off of you, and he stumbles back while you start fumbling with the buttons of your vest. His lips are swollen , yours are too, and his hair is a tangled mess. Yours isn’t any better and when the sound of approaching footsteps gets louder and louder, you and Eddie share a silent look of longing before he disappears around the corner.

You hate watching him leave. Every stolen moment is just another reminder that you’re always on borrowed time. Part of you wishes that the two of you met under different circumstances. Part of you wonders if he would’ve even spared a glance your way had you not been wielding your bass, donned in tight leather and racy lace. If the two of you passed each other in the street, would he have chased after you? Would you have chased after him? Is your attraction to him genuine, or is it rooted solely within the pleasure he brings you?

“Where the hell have you been?” Nick, your bandmate, asks. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” With his hands planted firmly on his hips and a look of annoyance, and frustration, on his face, he demands an answer.

Thinking quickly, you look around and spot some equipment on a cart across the way.

“I wanted to grab a different pedal before our set started, but I guess it’s too la-“

“You should’ve thought about that earlier.” Luckily, Nick is too irritated to care about your poor attempt at an excuse, and he doesn’t push any further for an answer. “Let’s go, Corroded Coffin’s almost on and you’re not gonna want to miss it.”

“W-why wouldn’t I want to miss it?” You struggle to get the words out, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Instead, his smile grows the closer and closer you get to the stage. He’s practically dragging you behind him, eager to make it to the wings before their set starts and you feel your stomach twist uncomfortably when all he offers as a reply is, “You’ll see.”

“Nick?” It’s so ominous that you can’t help but timidly ask for an explanation.

“Did you know they left their instruments and equipment unattended?” He beams proudly, not really interested in whether you were privy to such information or not. “Not a single one of those losers thought to stay with their stuff,” His laugh makes your heart drop when he admits, “Made it so much easier to mess with.”

“What did you do?” Your question makes him smile, and before you can press for an actual answer, the mic hisses with feedback when Eddie confidently introduces his band and the crowd starts cheering.

With his back towards you, you can see the mess you’ve made of his curls. While they’re normally unruly and frizzy with no real shape or hold to them, they’re knotted and matted from where you were tugging on them not even ten minutes prior. He’s wearing a tank top- something he cut the sleeves off of and cropped himself- giving the perfect view of all of the tattoos that line his arms, but also the pale skin that’s flushed red with heat. You’re not sure if it’s from the anticipation of performing, or from the acts you were previously engaged in. Either way, he looks a mess- a confident, sexy mess- and it has you shifting with an ache that only he could fulfill. You’re so caught up in gawking at him that you don’t even realize that they’re starting their set.

For a moment, everything is silent. Then, Eddie’s eyes widen in horror when he strums the first chord and realizes that his equipment has been tampered with. To his right, the other guitarists attempts the same chord, only for the same awful warped sound to blare through the venue, causing the audience to flinch. His eyes shift to the wings where they meet yours for a brief second before he notices Nick standing beside you with the biggest grin on his face. He realizes, then, that he’s staring at the culprit that sabotaged their set.

And that, was the official declaration of war amongst Corroded Coffin and Eternal Hereafter.

Send me some feedback! Requests: OPEN!

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