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femalewylanvaneck · 2 years ago

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Get Down, Make Love

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: corroded coffin is looking for a new lead singer and you're the perfect candidate. but it turns out your new band comes with more than one benefit.

words: 4.6k

warnings (mdni 18+): reader is over 18, making out, fingering, oral (f!recieving), brief mention of weed

a/n: this is the first part in a series, idk how many parts it will have yet. also my first time writing smut.

It was two days ago that you spotted the flier pinned to the notice-board outside the school cafeteria. The words written on it had told you that a local band, called ‘Corroded Coffin’, was looking for a new lead singer.

You had been looking for a band to join for what felt like decades. You knew that you could sing, but you were also self aware enough to know you’d never make a break on your own. You just didn’t have what it took for a solo career. Saying that you weren’t a socialbird would be an understatement. Making friends or connections wasn’t a talent that you possessed. So, in order for you to make it in the music industry, you would need a band to help pave the way.

And there was your opportunity, pinned to the giant notice-board, along with posters about the upcoming basketball game and other stuff you’d never cared about.

The flier had indicated that ‘Corroded Coffin’ was a rock band, whose taste leaned towards metal. In all honesty, metal wasn’t exactly your preferred subgenre, but your heart had its own devoted section for rock music–and Roger Taylor. This was probably a contributing factor to why people didn’t swarm around you, begging to be your friend. The band tees, the leather jacket and combat boots–along with the chains, rings and heavy eyeliner–didn’t exactly invite people in.

But, in the end, that didn't matter–you could learn to love heavy metal if it meant you got to be on stage. That’s why you were currently spending your Thursday night in your car driving to The Hideout. You pulled into the bar’s parking lot with nine minutes to spare. There were fewer cars parked outside than you’d been expecting. Hopefully, people had decided against driving after a night of shooting back a pack of beers.

As you swung the door open you were met by a strong odor of sweat, cheap cologne and alcohol. Your eyes scanned the crowd, but all you could see were a couple of men, all over the age of forty. That’s when it hit you that you actually had no idea who ‘Corroded Coffin’ was. And as you kept scanning the crowd a knot of doubt started growing in your stomach. What if the poster was old? What if the Friday in question wasn’t this Friday, but a Friday weeks ago?

You checked your watch–7:58. You decided that you were gonna stick around for a few more minutes to see if anyone showed up. Surely, you couldn’t be the only kid in all of Hawkins interested in joining a band, right?

That’s when you spotted a dark head of long, curly hair, over the sea of balding ones. This head was approaching you at a steady pace. And you knew, before he turned a corner and you spotted his trademark Hellfire shirt, that the person nearing you was Eddie, The Freak, Munson.

No, not The Freak. You never referred to him as a freak, because he wasn’t any more of a freak than you were. And also because it was insensitive and shitty going around referring to someone as The Freak. He was Eddie Munson, a person.

That sounded kinda weird. It wasn’t like you regularly walked around thinking about Eddie Munson, and whether or not the judgment he’d been dealt was unjust–which it was. You only meant that, in the general sense, it never sat right with you to call anyone a freak.

“You here to audition?” You snapped out of your thoughts to find Eddie standing a few feet in front of you. He looked down at you, eyebrows slightly raised, the shadow of a smile splayed over his lips.

“Y-yes! Right,” you stammered, trying to kickstart your brain back up. “I’m-”

“Y/N,” he cut you off.

“You know who I am?” You gave him a puzzled look.

“You’re pretty much the only girl in that entire school who doesn’t exclusively buy their clothes at the Gap,” he smirked.

“How can you be sure? Have you checked the tags on them?” you smirked back at him. “What if I just buy my stuff there and dye it black?” He chuckled at that.

“Did you write ‘AC/DC’ on that shirt yourself, then?”

“Wait, you don’t do that?” You furrowed your brows and tried to look perplexed, but you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your mouth.

“You’re funny,” he said, while throwing his arm over your shoulders and beginning to guide you towards, what you assumed, were the rest of his bandmates. Your first thought was that Eddie smelled a lot nicer than you thought he would–not that you’d thought about what he’d smell like. You had expected him to reek of cheap cologne and weed, but he smelled vaguely of pine and cedar, with a hint of cigarettes.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you murmured.

Eddie stopped the two of you in front of two guys you recognized from school, but whose names you couldn’t remember.

“I present to you, the rest of Corroded Coffin.” Eddie gestured towards the three boys with his free hand. You gave them a little wave, that’s honestly pretty damn awkward.

“Holy smokes, someone actually showed?” said one of the guys, wearing a red flannel, looking between you and Eddie. The other guy also glanced between the pair of you, and all of a sudden Eddie’s arm seemed to burn your shoulders. At the same time, he appeared to realize your position as well, removing his arm and awkwardly stepping to the side.

“Guys, this is Y/N.” Eddie gestured towards you this time. They eyed you up, and you were ready for one of them to make a comment about you being a girl, or something along those lines. But instead one of them locked eyes with you.

“Favorite band?” he asked.

“Queen,” you responded without a doubt.

“Solid.”

“Should we do a Queen song, then?” Eddie asked.

“Huh?”

“Do you want to sing a Queen song? So we can hear how you sound?”

“Yeah. Sure.” You had almost forgotten that you were gonna have to sing something. “Do you guys know how to play ‘Hammer to Fall’?”

Eddie said “yes” at the same time the other guys said “no”. They then suggested you sing with only the guitar in the background, so they could better hear your voice. You and Eddie got through the song together, drawing some attention from the drunks scattered around the room.

By the time Eddie had put his guitar down, you had begun nervously picking at the hem of your miniskirt. None of them showed any indication as to whether your performance met their standards or not. The three of them huddled together and began whispering. You tried to make out at least a few words, but you couldn’t catch anything.

After a while Eddie turned around slowly. His face bore a stern expression and you felt your stomach sink.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie began, your heart breaking a little. “But it looks like you’re gonna have to start spending some time with the freaks of Hawkins High,” he continued.

“You can’t begin like that!” you exclaimed, striking his chest with the back of your hand. Eddie sent you a wide smile and caught your hand, before holding it between his own. Suddenly, there were butterflies in your stomach.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbled and pressed a light kiss to your knuckles. The butterflies escaped into your chest.

That’s how you became the lead singer of Corroded Coffin. That’s also how you ended up in the school cafeteria, a couple weeks later, arguing with Dustin Henderson about what time Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon.

“It was at 2:54 am!” Dustin exclaimed, frustrated.

“No, it was at 2:56, Dustin!” you bellowed back.

“Are you not listening to me? He took his first step onto the moon at-”

“Listen to the lady, Henderson,” Eddie cut in. “She’s usually right.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you smiled at him.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, against his will.

“Eddie, no offense,” Dustin started off, “but you’ve failed to graduate high school, like, three times.” Everyone at the table went quiet. “So, I don’t exactly trust your opinion.”

You had to cover up the laugh that tried to escape you with a cough. Eddie stopped glaring at Dustin for a second to glare at you. “Sorry,” you mumbled under your breath.

Dustin's face had gone slack as he realized what he’d just said. “Eddie, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s alright, Henderson.” The tension in the younger boy's shoulders went away immediately as he let out a breath. “But you’re still wrong.”

You had never seen a person's mouth from such a straight line. You could tell that Dustin had fought with all his strength to not say anything.

“Not to rain on your parade, man,” Mike cut in, “but it was at 2:56.”

“Michael!” Dustin snapped at the other boy, with such force it was a miracle his “Thinking Cap” hadn’t flown across the room.

You giggled into the back of your hand. What you didn’t notice was the smirk that grew on Eddie's lips when he saw you laugh.

Then you remembered that you’d wanted to talk to Eddie about one of the songs the two of you had been working on. There was one line in the second verse that you felt just wasn’t right, and you needed to fix it before the gig tonight.

“Eds?”

“Yes, princess?” You ignored the heat that rushed to your cheeks.

You pulled the notepad out of your bookbag and showed the right page to him. “I think we should change this,” you said, pointing to the words.

He leaned in to get a better view. “Yeah, you’re right. That doesn’t look right.” His words were spoken right into your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine.

The two of you went back and forth, trying out new words to see what would sound the best. When the bell rang, you weren’t even close to finished. Because the more you looked at the song, the more you realized it was crap. Maybe some of the weed you’d smoked while writing it was to blame.

“We have to get this fixed before tonight,” Eddie stated. “We promised we would have a new song for tonight.”

“Oh, yes, we can’t disappoint the handful of drunks who happen to be there tonight,” you chuckled.

“They’ve started paying more attention since you joined.” You rolled your eyes at that.

“But, I agree. We gotta fix this.” Your eyes met his. “I’ll be at your place around 4. That sound good?”

“Thank you,” he said, then planted a quick kiss to the top of your head before hurrying away.

“Why are you in a rush to get to class?” you called after him.

“I gotta graduate this year!”

Your knuckles never got the chance to strike the front door of Eddie’s trailer. Instead, it swung open, with you still holding your closed fist up like an idiot. You lowered it awkwardly, tucking your hand into your pocket.

“Hello, there,” he smirked at you.

“Hi,” you got out, sounding like a moron.

Eddie stepped to the side, letting you enter. You glanced around the trailer. There was no sign of Eddie’s uncle, but his comings and goings weren’t something you’d yet figured out. You knew he worked nights at the plant. But, surely, it was too early for him to have already left, right? Whatever.

Half an hour later and you were sprawled out on Eddie’s bed, notepad in front of you and pen between your teeth. Eddie sat in his desk chair, guitar in hand. Your eyes tracked his ringed fingers as they moved over the strings, going from chord to chord. Their movement had you in a trance. The way your mind tended to wander when you were around Eddie was something you liked to ignore–yet it happened all the same.

“Hey, Y/N. Wake up!” (I apologize)

Your eyes snapped to his. “What?”

“Are you even listening?”

“Sorry.” You buried your face in your hands.

“Let’s take a break,” Eddie said, then pressed play on whatever cassette he’d listened to earlier. You smirked as Freddie Mercury’s voice met your ears.

“Queen?” You looked up at him with big eyes.

“I was prepared, just in case,” he said, suddenly shy.

“Aww, you’re a softie.” A smile washed over your face.

Eddie sat down next to you on the bed and shoved your shoulder playfully. “I am not!”

“Yes, you are!” The tip of your finger jabbed him in the side. He snatched your wrist before you could pull it away. As you tried to wring it out of his grip, he took the opportunity to grab your other arm as well. You were now fighting to get both of your hands back. But Eddie easily used your arms to swing your body down onto the bed. You continued to struggle, and in order to hold you still he pinned your body down under his own.

You looked up into his eyes, gazing right back down at you. Your chests were heaving slightly from the exertion. For a brief moment, Eddie's gaze strayed to your lips. Then they did it again and once more, until they stayed there.

“Have I ever told you I had a crush on you last year?” He spoke the words quietly, afraid you were gonna make fun of him.

“No.”

“You were sat in the cafeteria, combat boots up on the table,” he looked back at your eyes. “You had your Walkman with you and I could hear ‘Run to the Hills’ blaring through your headphones. It took me three weeks to not look for you the second I stepped in there. And every single day you were sitting at the same table, alone. I drove myself crazy, wondering what would happen if I just walked over there.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he had the chance to respond, you raised your head off the mattress and crashed your mouth against his. It took him a few seconds to react. Once he did, your head was slammed back down onto the bed, his lips working hungrily against your.

Your hands went up to cup the sides of his face and draw in nearer, while Eddie’s hands grabbed at your hips. He pulled away from your lips, and you were certain he would say something about how you couldn’t continue what you were doing. But instead he started trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

You gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck. His tongue trailing after to soothe the area. You tangled your fingertips into the curly hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer. He planted kisses along your collarbone, before returning his mouth to your neck.

You were panting underneath him. His mouth sucked on your neck. You knew it would leave a mark, but you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care. And honestly, there was a part of you that wanted him to mark you up, claim you.

“Eddie,” you breathed, as the suction on your neck grew rougher.

You felt Eddie smirk against your skin as he hummed. His fingers played with the hem of your shirt. He began pushing it up every so slowly, giving you the chance to stop him. But you just arched your back in response, willing him to push it up farther. However, he left it bunched up right before your bra could be revealed. You let out a disappointed huff.

“I wanna feel before I see,” he mused and let his fingers slide underneath the fabric of your top. He grasped your covered breasts and squeezed lightly. The way you let out a shaky breath let him know you enjoyed it. So he gave them another squeeze, harder this time. You raised your chest, asking for more, and he obliged.

He ran a thumb over your nipple. Your body shuddered in response, causing Eddie to smirk and do it again. A whimpering sound escaped your lips. You felt heat pooling between your legs, certain that if Eddie went on like this, a wet patch was gonna form in your underwear.

Eddie removed his hands from your chest, and a frown appeared on your lips. To your delight, they made quick work of removing your shirt. You helped him get it off, then tossed it onto the floor. The cool air contrasted against your flushed skin, which caused goosebumps to form across your body.

Eddie was staring down at you, examining your chest. The piercing attention made you feel self conscious, your hands instinctively going up to cover yourself. But Eddie was quicker, taking your arms and pinning them to your sides.

“Don’t,” was all he said.

So you tried looking away to escape his examining eyes. He grabbed your jaw with rough fingers, forcing you to turn your head towards him. Still, you refused to meet his eyes.

“Look at me.” Reluctantly, you locked your gaze on his. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful.” He said the last part more to himself.

Heat rushed to your face. You wanted to turn your head away once more, but Eddie still had a hold of your jaw.

When he felt certain you wouldn’t look away, he let go of your face. Then he returned his curious hands to your clothed chest, squeezing and running his fingers over your, now very hard, nipples. And once again you were a whimpering mess underneath him.

His lips went back to trailing openmouthed kisses along your collarbone. His hungry mouth traveled downward, leaving marks along the way. But it wasn’t enough.

You pushed him away from you. Eddie was sure you were gonna ask him to stop. Instead, you sat up slightly, your hands disappearing behind your back to unclasp your bra. It quickly joined your shirt on the floor.

Eddie was grinning like an idiot. His eyes eating up the sight of you, Y/N Y/L/N, splayed out on his bed topless. Your chest heaving, causing your tits to move in a way he could only describe as deeply erotic. If he hadn’t been nursing a hard-on before, he sure was now.

He would be lying if he’d said he hadn’t thought about you like this. When you’d leaned forward to grab something and your shirt had slipped down, he’d had to stop himself from reaching out and cupping your breasts. Or when you licked the paper while rolling a joint, and his mind wandered to what it would be like having that tongue doing the same thing elsewhere. Or when he woke up in the middle of the night, craving a release after you’d haunted his dreams.

But having you here, in front of him, topped anything his imagination had been able to cook up. He felt your hips bucking underneath him, craving friction just as much as he did. However, before he could get to that, he had another task at hand.

He took your left nipple in his mouth, using the tip of his tongue to play with it. He pinched the other one between his fingers.

“E-Eddie,” you moaned, as you felt your slick slowly stain the fabric between your thighs. You clenched around nothing. “Eddie.”

You didn’t want him to stop what he was doing, but you needed some friction, anything. He was taken aback when you shoved him off of you, then straddled him. You quickly began grinding your hips against his, moaning over the sudden relief.

“So greedy,” he said through a grunt.

“Shut up, Munson.”

If he’d thought you were hot earlier, it was nothing against the way you looked now–head rolled back, skirt bunched up around your hips, hands gripping his chest for support as you dry hump the bulge in his jeans. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs.

Eddie was sad that your tit was no longer in his mouth. However, the way you grinded against him didn’t have him feeling blue for long. And seeing you take what you wanted was insanely attractive.

“Eds?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I need you to do something,” you said, still working your hips at a steady pace.

“I was doing something when you interrupted me,” he smirked. All you did was whine in response, and the smug look was wiped off his face. “Alright, sweetheart.”

Eddie lifted you off of him and placed you back on the bed. He was perched between your legs, once again devouring the sight of you–the way your boobs were drooping to the sides, forced down by gravity. And the way your nipples were stiff, one of them glistening with his saliva.

He studied your face, loving the way your lips were swollen from having battled with his own, and loving that he now knew what those lips tasted like.

His hands grabbed the waistband of your skirt. “Mind if I take this off?”

You shook your head and raised your hips, causing Eddie to smirk.

The way he removed it was agonizingly slow, but he wanted to make sure he had time to scan every inch of your skin with his eyes. They moved down your legs–God, he never knew legs could be this attractive.

But what caught Eddie’s attention in the end was the wet stain that had formed in your underwear. He ran a finger over it. You hummed in response, as your eyes fell shut–finally.

Eddie made quick work of removing your underwear, and they joined the rest of your clothes on the floor. You felt it was unfair that you were completely naked, while Eddie hadn’t shed a single article of clothing.

“Eddie?”

“Yes, love?” (Aaron Warner who?)

“Can you take your shirt off?” you asked, suddenly embarrassed.

A smirk grew on Eddie’s face. “Since you asked so nicely.” He removed his top in one swift motion.

This wasn’t the first time you’d seen Eddie without his shirt on. You, Eddie and the other guys from the band had gone to Lovers Lake after your first gig together, and Gareth had pushed Eddie into the water. Which had been an awful idea since it was during early March.

Eddie had gotten out of the water, soaked and freezing, wet bangs sticking to his forehead. He had taken off his drenched jacket, cursing Gareth under his breath for ruining his precious piece of leather. His shirt had quickly followed, and you had turned your burning face away from him, as he searched through the back of his van for a blanket.

This time you didn’t turn away. Instead, you let your eyes travel over his pale skin. Your fingers traced the ink covering his chest, admiring the artwork. You made a mental note to ask him about them later.

You were so consumed by the sight before you, that you hadn’t noticed when Eddie moved his hand to hover between your open legs. However, him swiping his thumb over your clit pulled you out of your trance as you let out a groan.

Your hand, that had been tracing shapes on Eddie’s chest, grabbed onto his forearm. He looked up at you. “Do you want me to stop?” You hastily let go again. He could do anything, as long as he promised to keep touching you. Your head rapidly shook from side to side.

He ran his fingers through your folds once more, spreading you slick over your aching bud. Eddie began tracing small circles over the bundle of nerves and your eyes fell shut. You let out sighs of pleasure, lightly moving your hips against him.

Eddie leaned down and began placing kisses on your sternum, moving down and doing the same along your stomach. Before you knew it his head was between your thighs. He planted quick pecks on the inside of your thigh, then replaced his thumb with his lips.

Eddie brushed the tip of his tongue over your clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned, and you could feel Eddie’s lips quirking into a smirk.

The way he worked his tongue over your cunt made you feel sorry for any guy that had ever gone down on you for thinking they’d done a good job. Because this felt so good and the moans leaving you were genuine, not forced like usually.

When you didn’t think it could get any better, you felt one of Eddie’s fingers at your entrance, slowly pushing its way inside of you.

“E-Eddie! Fuck-” you bit the back of your hand to stifle the sound.

“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. No one can hear you. Let it out.”

You removed your hand and at that exact moment Eddie curled his finger inside you. The sound you let out was heady–and quite intoxicating in Eddie's opinion.

Your fingers found their way into Eddie’s curls, which he only took as encouragement. Eddie was sucking at your clit like his life depended on it, and it almost did, because he thought he was going to die if he didn’t get to hear you moan his name one more time. Eddie added another finger, and you didn’t need many seconds to begin grinding your hips against them.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten. “Eddie, I’m close.”

“I know, I know.” He didn’t need you to tell him, he could feel the way your walls were clamping against his fingers. Eddie put even more effort in–he couldn’t wait to have you come undone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

And just like that you were cuming on Eddie Munson’s tongue, his fingers working magic inside of you, while Freddie Mercury was telling you to Get Down, Make Love.

Eddie lifted his head from between your trembling legs, and removed his fingers before popping them in his mouth, savoring every last drop of you.

As you were coming down from your high, your head fell to the side. That’s when the clock on Eddie’s nightstand caught your attention–5:44 pm.

“Shit!” you exclaimed. “Eddie, we need to be at The Hideout in fifteen minutes.”

“What?” His eyes snapped to the clock. “Crap!”

Eddie threw his shirt back on, before diving onto the floor in search of your clothes. You got your bra and skirt tossed at you, then your panties followed. You hastily put them on, then joined Eddie in the search for your shirt.

“I can’t find it!”

“Here, take this,” Eddie said and tossed you a shirt from his closet.

You pulled it on, grinning slightly–it smelled like him.

On the other side of the room, the sight of you in his shirt had Eddie fighting the urge to throw you back onto the bed and let tonight's gig figure itself out. But you came rushing past him and he was pulled from his reverie.

“Eddie, you coming?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, sorry.” He looked at you reluctantly, afraid that the moment was over and that you were gonna sweep it under the rug and act as if it never happened.

“We’re just taking a break, okay?”

A smile split Eddie’s face, and he threw on his jacket before grabbing his keys. The two of you rushed out to Eddie’s van, making sure to not forget his guitar.

You were almost at The Hideout when something struck you. “What are we gonna do about the song?”

“The drunks can live without it, we were up to more important things.”

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