#Rockstar eddie munson x reader au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carolmunson · 5 months

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i'm the best thing at this party | e.m.

up and coming rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader (is that a picture of slash? sure, but we can pretend it isn't.) aka the first time carol ever wrote a fic based off a taylor song. but in my defense, it was a chase petra cover of 'you're losing me' that inspired it. this is not connected to my rockstar!eddie x actress!reader storyline, this is it's own oneshot in a separate story.

in the early 90s, when your boyfriend's band starts to make it in the big leagues, you start to come to terms with the fact that he might not want or need a small town player anymore. eighteen plus. established relationship. angst. hurt/no comfort-ish. open ending.

"and i'm fading, thinkin': 'do something, babe. say somethin'. lose somethin' babe, risk something. choose somethin' babe. i got nothin' to believe, unless you're choosing me.'"

The Hideout was hot with all the bodies packed in like sardines; stark contrast to the icy chill of winter outside. Glowing on the screen was The Tonight Show, everyone’s eyes glued to it while Corroded Coffin made their first national televised debut.

No one’s totally sure how their manager Richie was able to finesse this slot – but they went to New York to film earlier in the week and didn’t ask any questions. With Richie, it's better to not ask questions and just let it happen. Eddie came home with an adrenaline rush so intense that he barely slept for three days. No matter how much you tried to keep him in bed and tire him out.

And sure, it was hard to have him be gone while you drove out to Indy and took a friend to see the new graffiti art exhibit that came in from LA when it was supposed to be with him. It was hard to have him miss a lot of things. His return from the city only started another big talk about it, one you've been having every few months the last two years. Even so, you couldn’t help but be proud of him, proud of all of them. Remembering that just four years ago they were barely getting fifteen people in here to see them play when you first started dating.

The crowd erupts when the camera comes off of the band on the stage and back to Leno at his desk, the boys in real life all standing on the bar. You look up at Ed and smile, he finally did it, he’s doing it. The contracts are signed, the people saw him, he’s gonna make it. He’s making it.

You duck out of the way when they start to spray champagne over everyone by the bar, “Not my hair, babe!”

The two bartenders pour shots of Jameson and flutes of Prosecco while the show cuts to commercial and it’s not long before you feel the sticky chest of your boyfriend up against your shoulder, “It was good? I did good?”

“Ed you’re…you’re fuckin’ famous,” you grin, “You’re fuckin’ famous!”

You follow while he leads you through the crowd, settled in near the back where the stage doors lead to the dressing room and out into the parking lot. He looks over his shoulder twice before he sneaks you both behind the amps; heart pounding when he leans you up against the painted cinder block walls, noses mashing when he takes your lips in his. It’s feverish, desperate when he pulls at your hips, one arm wrapped around your mid back to keep you steady up against him.

“Lemme – mmm – lemme take you to the green room,” he breathes between kisses, moving your hand toward the bulge in his jeans, “C’mon I wan–”

“The interview’s up!” Jeff calls from on top of the bar.

“Where’s Ed? ED? Come on! The interview’s up!” Gareth calls, the crowd erupting in a cheer of ‘Edd-ie, Edd-ie, Edd-ie!’

“Come on, come on!” you squeal, pulling away to pull him toward the front of the bar again, “You said they were gonna cut it!”

“It’s stupid, babe,” he assures, “It’s so dumb.”

“Ed, you’re being interviewed by Leno, this isn’t stupid,” you urge, “This is like – this is it.”

“It’s literally like two minutes, it’s not special,” he doesn’t move when you pull him along with you, a frown pulling on your lips.

“Eddie,” your voice raises an octave, tugging on his hand – he lets go.

“I’m gonna take a leak,” he shrugs, heading toward the green room while you watch him disappear behind the door. Your brows furrow slightly, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way back to the edge of the bar where everyone’s eyes are glued to the medium sized screen in the corner.

The crowd cheers again while the band is re-introduced, Eddie and Jeff sitting on the chairs with Gareth and Grant standing behind them. You admire the way your boyfriend looks post performance, nearly glittering with sweat but glowing with pride – with accomplishment. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s back from the bathroom yet, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“So we got a group of some – what looks like – nice, respectable hard core guys,” Jay smiles.

“I don’t know about respectable,” Eddie scrunches his nose back at the host.

“I don’t know about nice, either,” Jeff jokes. You marvel at how relaxed and natural they all look on camera, cracking wise and getting laughs from the audience. They talk about the album briefly, and the front cover which has all four boys in caskets with a red kiss print on their cheeks.

“So, the debut is self titled, Corroded Coffin – but it looks like you all got a coffin kiss here,” he points out, “These from anyone special? You got the girls going crazy.” The audience erupts in cheers and screams, a bra finding its way flung into the sound stage. You giggle when Gareth and Grant hold it up, making them both blush pink on the screen.

“Well I got a girl at home, so, I don’t hear any screamin’ if it’s not her cheering for me,” Jeff’s smile is bright when the camera focuses on him and he winks into the lens. Sasha, Jeff’s girlfriend, screeches in the crowd of The Hideout.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that!” she beams, and your heart thunders while you watch them kiss on the bar. The promise ring that he gave her back in ‘88 shines on her ring finger, awaiting something much more flashy when that first big rockstar payday hits.

“It’s definitely a change of pace,” Grant nods on the screen, “Definitely wasn’t getting a lot of girls in high school.”

“It’s wild,” Gare laughs.

“And what about you, Munson,” Jay asks, “Frontman like you’s gotta be beating them off with a stick.”

The camera focuses on him, his pink lips and smart grin, a flash of teeth before he starts talking. He’s so handsome, you feel your fingers and toes start to tingle when he opens his mouth.You weren’t expecting to hear your name on national television, or be alluded to. You’d never really prepared yourself for something like this. To be declared to thousands, maybe millions, as a rockstar girlfriend.

You swallow the nervous spit pooling in your mouth, heart pattering while you run through all of the scenarios of the outcome of being ‘announced’ in your head.

“I don’t kiss and tell, Jay,” he smirks.

Oh.

Your hearing clouds and your vision blurs – unsure of what you just heard. If maybe you imagined it, but that proves to be untrue when you feel a few sets of eyes on you. A moment of silent confusion lulls on the crowd at the bar.

You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers and toes cold now while the blood rushes to your heart and head, to your lungs which suddenly forgot how to work. Through teary eyes you look around, drowned out by the cheers of the bar when Jay announces when the album will release. You sniffle, trying to hold it back – but there he is in the back of the crowd now, eyes rounded; pleading, looking straight at you.

The tears spill over and you try to catch your breath as you make your way through the bodies on your way to the front door. You hear Gareth call after you, hearing him stumble over the barstools while he hops off the counter. Another ragged intake of breath shakes through you while you get closer to the sticker covered door, pushing through the first set and then the other into the dark blue night. Your breath puffs white in front of you, coat abandoned somewhere back inside The Hideout while you walk across the street to your car.

You fumble with the keys, blubbering while you get the engine started and the radio blares Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together part way through the song. In the rear view you see him hustle out of the bar to search for you, catching the start of your car and getting to the passenger window before you can pull away.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he strains, his fingers hanging on the edge of the half open glass, “I promise it’s not what you think. Richie asked me to answer like that, it wasn’t on purpose.”

You press slightly on the gas, making the car lurch forward and inch.

“Wait! Please don’t – don’t just go,” he begs, voice breaking with desperation, “We can talk about it.”

You look at him through wet eyes, the street lights haloing behind his head to feign his innocence. He can talk himself out of anything.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you rasp out quietly, “We’ve done enough talking.”

“I can…please don’t go,” he says again, “Not with you crying like this, c’mon. Don’t leave.”

“I’m gonna go home, Ed,” you sniffle, “J-just go h-have fun inside. S’too cold to be out here.”

“You don’t have your coat,” he states, “Come back in and get it. We can talk in the back, please.”

“I don’t need my coat,” you garble out, “I’m going h-home.”

“Well I’ll – I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning,” he nods needily, “Okay? Is that okay?”

You let out a shaky breath, fogging again against your windshield, “F-fine.”

Eddie cracks a weak but winning smile, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“I love you,” he adds. It tastes like ash in your mouth. You pull away before you feel compelled to say it back.

Eddie show’s up in the morning with coffee and your coat, a small carton of donut holes for you both to share. He’s all smiles, seeing you in the kitchenette cleaning out the coffee pot that you now no longer have to fill.

“Morning, baby,” he grins, “I brought your coat.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the droplets of water that race down the side of the glass pout, “You can just hang it on the hook.”

“Are you…are you still upset with me?” his voice is airy, surprised while he makes his way behind you. Calloused hands reach around to pull your back in his chest, nose nuzzling against your cheek. Your stomach rolls, bile inching up the base of your throat.

“Enough, Ed,” you sigh, pulling out of his hold.

“Sweetheart, c’mon,” he huffs, “I told you already. I didn’t want to say that. But you know how Richie is! He just wants what’s best for the band and so do I! Don’t you? I thought you’d understand.”

“Jeff had no problem talking about Sasha,” you do your best to measure your tone, too early to start yelling.

“Jeff has the wholesome thing going for him; plus – you know his family isn’t for him being considered like, a rogue or whatever. He’s already in a metal band,” Eddie explains, like this is a totally normal conversation, “Richie even said this morning that he was getting a lot of calls.” “Okay,” you nod, sitting down at the small table in your kitchen where your coffee sits.

“And like, a lot of people wanna do interviews with us and get hype up for the release,” he half smiles, sitting down across from you, “I told you, it was…it was a good thing. They were saying y’know like, mysterious bad boy front man is a good angle.”

“Great.”

“It doesn’t…babe, it doesn’t mean we can’t be together,” he leans forward, hand reaching out to touch yours. His shoulders sulk when you put them both under the table.

“Ed I –” you let out a breath, eyes tracing a pattern on the waxed canvas tablecloth, “I can’t even look at you right now. And you wanna tell me we can still be together?”

“What like it’s…some consolation prize?” you choke out, “You made a fool out of me. The looks I got?”

“I know, I know, but it was for the band. You know how I feel abo—“

“How you feel about me?” you hold back a bitter laugh.

“Ed, the last year or so we have kept having the same conversation over and over again. You are so, so caught up in Corroded and making it and getting there and trust me I am so proud of you. If there is anyone on the planet who is more proud than me maybe it’s Wayne, but – this is just like, this is kind of it. We have nowhere to go from here.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his brown eyes rounding and brows tilting slightly when he realizes what you’re really saying, “What do you mean no where to go? Are you not listening? I said we can still be together, just like befo–”

“Before? Before when?” you get up and pace back to the kitchen where he can still see you, “Before when you would cancel dates to go practice? When you missed my awards night for work because you wanted to fill in guitar for a gig in Ohio? When you didn’t come to my poetry reading with the guys like you said you would and instead got plastered at The Hideout after rehearsal?”

“Well I apologized for all that, that was all in the past couple years and I – look, I said I was sorry and you accepted that,” his voice raises slightly, he stands up to full height with defense evident in his stance, “You can’t just throw it back in my face.”

“When you were gone weeks at a time for mini tours, for opening for bands on the East Coast – god, all the work I took off to make sure I was there for you? When you canceled our three year anniversary dinner, without my knowledge, because you got a call for discounted studio time on the same night,” you manage to get out, the tears inching toward the edge of your lash line, “And I sat there at the table in my new dress and everyone looked at me the same way they looked at me last night. Poor girl. Must’ve got stood up. What an idiot.”

“Yeah well that studio time is why we were on fuckin’ LENO, babe!” he pleads, “Don’t you get that? It’s for us!”

“It’s for you!” you break, the shrill frustration coming out with your voice, “It’s always just been for you. It’s always about Eddie and the guys. I have done nothing but make sacrifice after sacrifice, excuse after excuse to play the part of perfect, understanding, cool, laidback girlfriend but like fuck Ed, when is it gonna be about me, huh?” He stands there, unsure, cheeks sucking in between his teeth.

“And what’s on the docket for you on Friday? Have any plans?” you ask, your voice softening while you cross your arms over your chest. You lean the small of your back against the counter while you watch him. He clears his throat, hands finding their way into the back pockets of his jeans.

“Um, we have some meetings in the morning in Indy. And then um, we’re gonna take a late flight out to LA. The label’s excited – they’re really excited,” he breathes out, eyes finding the floor and your sock covered feet.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” you nod, voice still measured, “Since we’ve had the tickets for my niece’s winter school concert on the fridge for over a month. I guess I’ll have to tell her that her favorite bonus teacher couldn’t make it.”

“Fuck,” Eddie’s eyes shut, pulling his lips in to run his tongue across them while he thinks of what to say next. Your heart thrums in your chest, throat getting tighter and tighter while you hold back a cry – this was just another thing to add to the list.

“I can make it up to her, I promise,” his raspy nicotine voice becoming garbled with desperation, “I can make this all up to you, too. I swear. I wish you had just told me about all of this.”

“I have, Ed. We are always having the same conversation. I’m tired of having it. I’m so tired of this. Make it up to me? How do you make up for it?”

“I…” he chokes on his words, ringed fingers running over his face and reaching to pull his hair back off his neck.

“Go ahead,” you encourage angrily, “What’re you gonna do? Say something. Fucking, do something, Ed!”

“Baby, I don’t know what to…” he swallows, tears pooling in shiny wells over his eyes, “What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

You take a breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth, taking the three steps it takes to get to him. Your hands fall from being crossed, reaching up to cup each of his cheeks. Your thumbs run over the apples and drag softly over the stubble left over from the night before.

His eyes shut while he keens into your touch, his rough hands covering yours. Calloused fingertips coasting delicately over your knuckles. You know what you have to do, even if his touch makes you want to do the opposite.

“Go be famous,” you shrug, smiling weakly, “Go be the big rockstar I know you are. Like how you wanted. Go play The Garden and live in LA.”

Your hands slide down his face, tears falling after them, “Go do all that, and just, um – just leave me alone. Please.”

“But I don’t–” he starts, pulling in a sharp breath while a cry leaks out of him, “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Oh, Ed,” you shake your head while the ache spills over into your own leveled sob, “I’m already lost.”

“No, please,” he begs, trying to catch your hands as they make it back to your sides, “Please, baby, I’ll fix it. I pro-promise.”

“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whisper in finality, “You should go.”

“I don’t want to,” Eddie’s soft pink lips quiver while he speaks, “Please. Please. I can fix it, the next interview, anything, it’ll be all you. I swear I can…I can…”

When your face doesn’t change he knows there’s no way to pull you from your stance, voice trailing off in defeat. You watch as he rips open your storm door and goes to his van, his chest and back shaking with sobs that make the hardware on his jacket cry with him.

A year passes and you are not surprised when you find out that Corroded Coffin has made the cover of Rolling Stone. Wayne bought every copy from the gas station at the end of the road and put them in every mailbox early that morning. You don’t think there’s been a day in the last year that Wayne wasn’t seen beaming ear to ear; his boy finally getting everything he wanted.

Life had gotten easier now that you weren’t regularly expecting disappointment. You went on few dates here and there, just trying to navigate your life after spending four years sharing it with someone else. Some nights were colder than others, but it was better than the frigidness you felt that night at the bar.

You did your best to avoid the tabloids – Eddie was certainly doing just fine navigating his life as a bachelor; some new model or actress on his arm every other month it seemed. Hardrock’s Resident Playboy. It stung the first time you saw it, and a little less each time after – heart breaker to the core; you would know, you were the blueprint.

In the same cold that matched the night at The Hideout a year prior; you sat on your steps wrapped in a robe – morning cigarette between your fingers.

“Morning,” Wayne’s voice is gravelly when it sounds over you, still soaked with left over sleep.

“Mornin’ Wayne,” you smile, taking a sip of the steaming cup of coffee in your other hand.

“Wanted to uh, to let you know that the guys are playin’ a show in the city tonight. I could uh – I could get you a ticket if y–”

“That’s sweet of you Wayne,” you smile tightly, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“He might like to see you,” he shrugs. He hadn’t quite gotten over the break up the way you and Eddie had, convinced that this was the real deal – that he was watching young love flourish into something bigger.

“He’s seeing someone, Wayne,” you take a drag of your cigarette, “Why would he want to see his ex-girlfriend who still lives in Hawkins? He’s got some actress girl now, right?”

Wayne shrugs again, scratching at the back of his neck, “I never know what that boy’s got goin’ on in California outside of shows and gettin’ into trouble. Maybe he is seeing some girl but, y’know, seein’ an old friend could be good for him.”

“He’s still got plenty of friends here he can see,” you let the smoke out to drift off in the gentle wind rustling through the line of trailers and mobile homes, “I don’t think I need to be one of them.”

“Well, they’re gonna have a small after party at The Hideout tomorrow,” he offers, “Even if you just wanna do somethin’ fun. I never see you goin’ out anymore.”

You laugh, “You work at night, what do you mean you don’t see me goin’ out anymore? I go out plenty.”

His eyes linger on you, enough to encourage a thoughtful sigh – you might as well humor him.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” you toss your half finished cigarette onto the browned grass before looking back up at him.

“Okay,” he smiles, eyes sparkling as he makes his way back inside.

You spend the next day deliberating between making it to the bar or not, putting in the effort to get ready and showing up. Why bother? Just to sit awkwardly in the corner while everyone flocks to the boys and tells them how great they are? They already know they’re great, they’re crawling higher and higher up the ladder.

You haven’t even talked to Eddie since the morning he left your trailer, and Wayne knows that. He knows how bad you hurt his nephew because he came over to talk to you a week after Eddie went to California and stayed for good. ‘So why should I show my face there? So I can relive the moment he made a fool of me over again?’ You think while the hot water of the shower glides over your shoulders and down your chest.

‘Maybe it’ll be good to make amends or something, I at least owe it to the guys,’ you figure silently while you slather on some moisturizer at the bathroom sink. And you did – not seeing Eddie meant not seeing the rest of the band. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were your friends too, and you sort of broke up with them in the same instance. Sasha moved out to California with them soon after – it would be nice to catch up at least. You hadn’t seen her since that night.

‘But why would I want to bother? So I can see that engagement ring on her finger and hear her talk about her wedding plans?’ you swallow sourly while you use a touch of your lipstick as blush on the apples of your cheeks. ‘Remember all the times you thought you and Ed were gonna get married? Hilarious.’

Before you know it, it’s 11:30 and you’re standing outside of the sticky and stickered covered door of The Hideout. Even from where you’re standing the bar is a buzz like a hive, energy inside like a livewire when you get into the entryway, showing your ID to the bouncer at the inside door.

‘Small after party my ass, Wayne,’ you think to yourself when you get in, shrugging off your coat. There was barely room to move and most of the lights were off or dimmed aside from the small stage in the back. By the looks of it, they must’ve played a small set – an intimate ‘home base’ concert for the real hometown fans. You push through some of the crowd, acrid smoke haze hovering over the room. A single bar stool sits empty at the end of the counter close to the wall and before you can think about it, you beeline straight there before someone else can grab it. Not that anyone would be able to see it through the six couples making out to Slayer blasting through the speakers.

The bar tender notices you soon after, coming over to get your order while his two cohorts speedily pour shots and mix drinks. You almost don’t want to get anything just to make the night easier, but opt for a beer instead.

“How much?” you ask over the music.

“WHAT?” the bartender shouts, holding a hand to his ear.

“HOW MUCH?” you yell back.

“ON THE HOUSE. BAND IS COVERING DRINKS,” he shouts back. You take a few dollars out while he pours your beer anyway, sliding it across the bar with a smile. He smiles back, pocketing the ones with a wink before helping another person leaning over the bar.

The TV takes your attention, a tape of their recent interviews and music videos playing on a loop with no sound. The beer is almost comforting as it passes over your tongue, it’s been some time since you just sat in a busy bar – and for the most part, no one here even knows you. For the most part.

A call of your name snaps you back to reality, looking around to see exactly who you thought you would. Sasha. And low and behold a ring sparkles bright on her finger, a breathtakingly big diamond glittering in the neon lights behind the bar.

“Hey!” you call back with a smile, sick crawling up your throat. You watch as she fights the crowd to get over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug while you stay seated on the stool.

“How have you been? You look gorgeous,” Sasha’s tan skin glows back orange in green while the lights change, tight dark curls bouncing prettily around her face.

“I’ve been good!” you nod, your voice hardly sounds like your own, “Y’know just – hanging around Hawkins. How’s LA? How’ that ring?!”

She holds her hand out so you can really see it, her skin is warm in yours while you take her fingers. It’s more beautiful up close, the marquise diamond flanked by two smaller triangles in perfect harmony.

“He did so good, Sash,” you giggle.

“I slapped his arm so hard when I saw it,” she laughs, “I said, ‘Jeff we could’ve bought a freakin’ house!’ but you know how he is.”

“I do, I do,” you nod, “Did you set a date?”

“Probably not for another year or so if we do a big wedding,” she shrugs, “Maybe a little longer? We think it’s smart to actually buy a house first – with this kind of money coming in. And y’know, the industry is, uh, well, it can be wishy washy. What’s in today could be out tomorrow. We wanna be smart.”

“Well thank god he’s marrying someone like you then,” you tease.

“That’s true,” she beams, “Do the guys know you’re here? I can go grab J–”

“No, no, they don’t,” you interrupt, taking her arm gently while she turns to leave, “You don’t have to tell them I’m here. I’ll go find them, I promise.”

Sasha gives you a half hearted smile, “Okay. Well – We’re sitting over by the stage if you wanna come say hi to the guys. Gareth would lose his mind, and Grant brought his new girl with him, she’s so cool. They met in LA and she’s like, got the sickest punky-goth type of thing about her.”

“I love that he’s in love,” you gush.

“Me too,” she nods, “The girls are obsessed with him out there.”

There’s a silence, but it’s knowing – still one person yet to have been mentioned but you both seem to understand it’s not worth bringing it up. Sasha reminds you that they’re by the stage, giving her a wave while she disappears in the throngs of people in the crowd.

Half way through your second beer and a couple of random conversations with people later, you see him in glimpses while people pass by. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s flirting, and when more people move and re-disperse, settling, you see glimpses of her, too. Some cute young looking thing, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was her twenty-first birthday. All doe eyed and giggly while he leans over her against the wall near the booths. I guess whoever he’s seeing in California isn’t too important.

He looks good, healthy, you can tell his clothes are tailored now – sort of comical that a tailor would fit and adjust ripped jeans and an old leather jacket. Not that he has to know you think it’s funny.

Eddie leans forward and lets his finger tap her on the nose, a tell-tale sign of his that they’ll kiss later. He’s used that move on you more times than you can count. He did it the night you met, tipsy at a party at Gareth’s – tapped you on the nose, making you scrunch it.

‘Aw, if I knew you’d make a face like that I would’ve booped you way earlier.’

‘What do you mean? What face?’ You scrunch again.

‘That face,’ he bites his lower lip, blush on his cheeks, ‘It’s a cute face.’

You expected it to hurt more, to watch him active in his element; but it doesn’t. You know the motions, you know his tells, he next move. You can see it in the way he leans into her and then leans away – almost kissing her, but leaving her wanting more. You smirk into your next sip, counting down the moments until he puts their conversation on pause to do their rounds and finding her again later. Gotta keep her yearning, you guess. He certainly was always good at things like that.

You don’t see their reunion, you assume it was somewhere near the stage where the band and Sasha were. At the end of the night, the boys play a goodnight mini-set, just three songs. You’d never seen Ed so in his zone in your life, fully basking in the glow of upcoming stardom. Every chord and every lyric punching out of him like the sweat pouring from his hairline and chest. This was what you wanted, what you told him to do.

Go be famous. And here he was. Famous. Just like you said he would be.

Water takes the place of your beer while they play; and you know better than to get up and join the crowd. Much happier sitting at the end of the now more empty bar just listening instead of getting potentially punched or tussled with amongst the bodies.

People take their time leaving when the set is over, shrugging on their coats to brave the cold weather.

‘Thanks for comin’ out to celebrate with us – now get the fuck out so our buddies at the bar can go home before four!’

You savor the conversations and music settling down to a much quieter murmur while you sketch on a napkin. A few people you shared niceties with tap your shoulder to say goodbye, new friends you’ll never see again. On the other end of the bar you hear Grant and his girl order a round of shots. Your head almost pops up at the sound of his voice, but that might bring attention to you that you don’t think you really want. Now that the night is over, you’re glad you came. If anything, just to see that they were making it just fine – and they would have with or without you.

With less people in the bar you can hear Sasha’s laugh in the back where the stage is, and you laugh into your napkin turned sketchpad. Her laugh was always infectious, enough to make the crowd follow suit. You grab a fresh napkin from the pile next to you and start to doodle again while you figure out how to best leave without anyone catching wise that you’re here. Out of the last twenty people left at the bar, a little more than half knew who you were.

The tap of the pen on the bar top while you think blends in with the tinkling of hardware that gets a little louder the closer it gets to you. A squish of leather and drag of a barstool later makes you privy that someone’s next to you. Spiced cologne and sweat sheened skin.

“You come here often?”

Slowly, you turn your head – level with brown eyes you haven’t looked in for a year, just in the glossy pages of magazines you’d leave behind at the grocery store or Melvald’s.

“I used to,” you offer a quiet tired smile, leaning your chin on your hand on the bar, “It’s been a while.”

Eddie smiles back, soft, cautious, “Yeah, same for me.”

You both don’t speak for a moment, adjusting yourselves on the barstools while a few more people head out to leave. The jingle of the door fades out, crunches of the parting patrons’ sneakers and boots in the snow sound outside.

He clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him – the curls of his hair, the slight stubble on his jaw and cheeks. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a moment before he turns his chest toward you.

“Can I uh, can I get you a drink?”

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eddiesxangel · 7 months

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Clueless | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie’s an idiot and can’t pick up that you’ve been flirting with him for months…so you take things a step further.

Cw: SMUT, dom/mean!eddie, name calling (whore/ slut)

4 months ago…

Tonight you sat at the bar, your usual Saturday night hanging with your friends from school. There was live music and you’d been eying the lead singer for about three weeks. They played here every Saturday and tonight you brought your roommates Nancy and Robin to join you so they could finally see the mystery man you’ve been going on and on about.

The three of you had been there for about twenty minutes before they took the stage.

“They should be on any minute,” you say as you hear some of the people in the college car cheer. Your eyes instantly find the stage and your heart flutters. There he is, in all his glory.

You hear Robin's gaps and you look at her immediately.

“What is it Bin?” You ask

“Nothing!” Nancy cut her off before she could talk. She gave Robin a subtle nudge and she caught on.”

“Nothing-nothing I-uh swallowed the wrong way” she pretended to cough. What the hell is going on?

You’d forgotten about how weird they were acting halfway through the set. You'd gotten up to dance and enjoy the music. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. As the three of you got closer and closer to the stage it seemed like he couldn’t stop starting in your direction. A bright smile spread across his face and you couldn’t help but blush. You’d hoped it was because of you. You’d made eye contact and almost turned into a puddle.

After the set finished the three of you found an empty booth and took a break from dancing.

“So what did you guys think?” You asked excitedly.

“They were great” Robin smirked.

“Yea usually not my kind of thing but I liked it” Nancy giggled.

“Ok, what is going on? You’re acting weird?” You winced.

“Should we tell her?” Nancy looked at Robin.

“Tell me what?” You asked.

They didn’t get a chance to answer.

“Buckley! Wheeler!” You all turn to see the man of your dreams appearing at your booth.

Your eyes go wide when it finally hits you. They know him. This is amazing! They can introduce you!

You thought the night went as well as it could have. Eddie was glued to your side, he was the biggest flirt, and he gave you compliments about your hair and how you smelled really nice. You were touching his arm and giving sublet hints that you also found him really attractive. On top of that, the conversation was cheeky and fun, you never had an awkward moment where you felt like you needed to fill the silence. the conversation was great, he was really easy to talk to. So when you went home alone, you were beyond bummed.

Eddie and you were always gravitating towards one another whenever he would come over to visit with Robin and Nancy or when your roomies asked you to come to the bar with them to meet some friends from high school. You had become attached to one another very quickly.

One month ago…

“Eddie, can you help me with something? You called him over from in the kitchen.

“Sure thing sweetheart” he got up from the rest of the group and made his way to you. Your stomach flip-flopped any time he called you a cute pet name.

“How can I be of your assistance?” He clasped his hands behind his back.

“I can’t open it” you pout pointing the lid of the pickle jar towards him.

You were making a charcuterie board. Did you really need help? Absolutely not. The jar had already been opened but any excuse to get Eddie near you you took.

“You could have called any of the guys but you wanted me to help you with the pickles?” Eddie smirked. *pop* The jar opened with ease.

“Well yeah” you took a step closer so you see in his space. “You’re just so strong.” You graze your hand against his bare bicep before giving it a squeeze.

“You have Steve the jock to call over” he raised a brow. Is he being serious right now?

“well...yeah. But I’m sure all that strumming doesn’t hurt” You bit your lip as you tilted your head up at him.

“Eh,” he shrugged his shoulders. Passing you back the jar.

“Oh um, we’ll… thanks” You turn back to the wooden board feeling defeated as he went back to the rest of the group

3 weeks ago…

* ring, ring, ring*

“Hello?”

“Hey Eddie, it’s me” you smiled.

“Sweetness, how are you?” He asked

“I want to have a movie night next Friday.” You just came out and said it. No more beating around the bush.

“I’m down, what’s the genre we are thinking here?” He crossed his arms over his chest while the phone rested between his ear and shoulder.

“Hmmm, I don't know. Horror?” You chide.

“I didn’t think you liked them scary” he smirked.

“But I’ll have you to protect me” You throw him yet another bone.

“I’m sure you won’t need me with everyone there.” He shrugged.

“E-everyone?” You stutter.

“Yea, who else is going?” He questioned.

Shit. You rolled your eyes and stomped your foot like a child.

“Uh I’m, not sure on the final numbers yet.” You strutted.

“No worries Princess. Count me in” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“See you then Eddie” you hung up with a defeated sigh. UGH

2 weeks ago…

Movie night. You had the living room all set up, ready with drinks, snacks, pillows and blankets for everyone. The lot of you piled up in your small apartment, Robin Nancy, Steve, Jonathan, Argyle, and of course Eddie.

Ten minutes into watching the original Halloween movie you ‘shivered.’ You were sat between Jonathan and Eddie.

“You cold?" Jonathan asked pointing beside him.

“I am but I’m sure Eddie won’t mind sharing with me?” He already had the blanket draped over his lap.

“Hmm?” Eddie hummed.

“Mind sharing some blanket I’m a bit chilly.” You scoot a little closer towards him.

“Oh uh yea sure” he draped the blanket over your lap while his eyes never left the screen. Fully immersed in the story.

“Thanks Eddie.” You placed a hand on his upper thigh.

Eddie didn’t bay an eye. He just continued to keep his eyes on the screen.

As the movie progressed you genuinely were getting scared. Micheal Myers had jump-scared you one too many times. It was about the fifth one by the time you grabbed onto Eddie’s arm. Eddie just smirked down at you as you covered your eyes into his shoulder.

However, Eddie sat there like a statue, unfazed by your advances. Eddie never seemed to be bothered by them, but he also wasn’t picking up what you were putting down.

Halfway through the third movie, you'd given up. He didn't put his arm around you, he didn't ask if you wanted to be protected. And He never reacted to your hand placed on his upper thigh. All of your moves were useless, and you hoped you didn't make a fool out of yourself in front of your new group of friends.

1 week ago…

Nancy and Robin started to gush about how cute the two of you would be together and it was only making you grow more impatient that he wasn’t making a move.

“Am I just not pretty?” You bit your cuticle. You were sat with your two roommates in your shared living room having a relaxing evening in.

“What are you talking about?” Nancy quipped.

“Not true, trust me, babes, you’re a smoke show, trust me I'm a lesbian.” Robin pipped up making you laugh.

"What brought this on?"Nancy looked at you with concern in her eyes.

"I’ve been throwing myself at Eddie for months! And he hasn’t once tried to make a move?” You admitted.

“He’s so dumb” Nancy said under her breath.

"I'm sure Jonathan thinks I'm pathetic. He had to suffer through my attempts during our movie night, which by the way was supposed to be just Eddie and I but he had to ask about who else was coming and I panicked!" You burry your head in your hands.

"Want me to knock some sense into him?" Robin asked.

"God no! That's the last thing I need" You shook your head. "He probably is just trying to avoid hurting my feelings... maybe he doesn't know how to turn me down so he's pretending like it isn't happening." You thought out loud.

"Nu-uh I know for a fact tha-OW" Robin looked at Nancy after feeling her kick her under the table.

"What Robin is trying to say, is that you and Eddie are perfect for one another, trust us. He will eventually see. Sometimes you have to be literal with him.

What were they not telling you?

“I don’t know…has he ever said anything about me to you guys?." you fiddled with your cup.

You look up to see Robin and Nancy give a knowing look to one another. They weren’t telling you something. They were not being subtle.

"Believe me, you don't want to give up yet." Robin reassured.

"Ohhhh kay," you sighed and changed the subject.

Today

You were so nervous but excited. Eddie has finally asked you to hang out one-on-one. You'd thought maybe this was it, the line would be crossed, and the initial step over the hump would be taken. You were so hopeful and you repeated Robin's words over and over again in your head. You don't want to give up yet.

Before arriving you had prepared yourself. You did everything from shaving to picking out a matching bra and pantie set. You had spraying yourself with the same perfume he'd complimented you on the first night you officially met. You did your hair and makeup, and don't even get started on how long it took to choose the perfect outfit that was cute enough to look like you weren't trying too hard but looked amazing in non the less.

You knocked on the apartment door that read 416. You could hear the eager padding of Eddie making his way to the door. He opned it with a swoosh and his hair blew back like he was n a goddamn shampoo commercial.

"Hey Princess, come on in make yourself at home." He greeted you with a warm hug. As he let go he scanned you up and down. You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your chest. You’d picked a v neck top that extenuated your tits, even if it was just a t shirt.

“So what did you wanna do?” He asked as you examined his place. It was exactly what you’d imagine. Very boy, a bit cluttered but not dirty. It smelled fresh like he just put in a load of laundry.

“Would you teach me some guitar? If you don’t mind, I’ve always wanted to learn.” You smirk.

“You sure you want me as a teacher?” He tilts his head.

“Well why not have the best?” You flirt.

“Come on my guitar is in my room” he took your hand a lead you down the hall. Bingo

You walked into Eddie’s room and he lead you to sit in the edge of his bed.

“Ok sweetheart, first thing you need to know are the chords” he picked up his acoustic and handed it to you.

He sat beside you and proceeded to instruct you on where to place your fingers. Your hands not use to the awkward positions they kept a slipping away.

He placed each of his thighs on the sides of yours so you were sat right between his lap. His broad chest was pressed up to you.

“Here like this” Eddie scooted closer so he could help you place your hands in the correct position. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him as he placed his hand on yours. You swore you felt a jolt go through your body when he touched your skin.

“That’s better.” He whispered and your body broke out in a shiver as his breath cascaded down the side your neck.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it?” You look back at Eddie. He was so close your noses almost brushed. You could see his cheeks flair up into the pretties shade of pink you’ve ever seen.

“Yea….” He was so close he just needed to close the gap! This was it, this was the moment. He just needs to lean in and….

“Here let’s try a few together now.” He moved your strumming arm to around the front of the guitar.

You were screaming at him him your head! The opportunity to kiss you was right there! Why didn’t he make a move?! Better yet why didn’t you? You cursed yourself for not being the one to lean in.

As you shake yourself out of your thoughts you feel his large hands move yours so you played a few notes in a row.

“Very good sunshine” he smirked. Those butterflies were back fluttering in your stomach.

You leaned back into Eddie’s chest with a hum. You felt his whole body on your back. His broad shoulders, his chest, his soft tummy and his hard crotch…

Your eyes blew wide open at the realization that Eddie was hard.

Eddie jerked back “I ugh, excuse me I just uh need to use the bathroom.” He mumbled before jumping off the bed like a bat out of hell.

You couldn’t believe it! So he was attracted to you…more than attracted at what you had felt. So why on earth did he run away?!

It has been a few minutes since Eddie left the bedroom and he still wasn’t back. Was he jerking off? It was he just waiting for it to go down?

You assumed it was the latter because in the middle of your internal monologue he walked back in.

“Sorry bout that, where were we?” He rounded the corner

“I think right about here” you hooked your thumbs under the hem of your shirt and swiftly pulled up your shirt, bra included and flashed your bare chest.

You didn’t think Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes couldn’t get any bugged but the sure did.

“Sweetheart, what uh-”

“Come on Eddie, don’t be shy” God he was so nervous it was adorable.

“Princess I-uh? you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You can touch them if you want.” You bite your lip.

Eddie doesn’t waist a second and rushed back towards the bed.

“Holy shit” he whispered to himself while cupping a breast in each hand. Eyes never leaving your chest.

You can only giggle at his reaction. He looked up to see the smile that broke on your face and couldn’t resist but to kiss you.

The moment his lips met yours it was like everything finally fell into place.

“Fuck you haven no idea what you do to me” Eddie gently pushed you down so you were on your back and inserted himself between your legs. he helped you take off your top and bra.

As his hand’s massaged your breasts you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

“Ya baby?” He ground his hips into your clothed centre.

“I want you Eddie.” You moaned

“Is that right?” Eddie asked cocking his head to look down at you.

You nod your head frivolously.

“You so desperate for this cock that you had to expose yourself to me like a little slut, is that it?” he growled in your ear.

This was not what you were expecting Eddie to be like in bed… well actually it was, before you’d met him. The rockstar version you’d seen on the bar stage 6 months ago. You’d expected him to be like this, but not your Eddie you know now. You imagined the Eddie you know now to be soft and gentle.

“Shit” you sigh as he bit down on the side of your neck.

“Mmmm you like that don’t you? You like being a whore for me?” Eddie slid down to latch his mouth on your nipple before flipping the two of you over.

“You want me so bad? Prove it.” he started unbuttoning his pants.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him when his cock was released from the confines of his underwear.

Eddie was big. You knew that when you felt his cock pressed against your lower back. But feeling it was much different than seeing it.

“Com’on babydoll” Eddie stroked your hair as you lowered your head to the tip of his cock. He let out a grunt when you gave it a chaste kiss.

“Don’t be a tease” he chuckled.

You engulfed him entirely running your lips to the base, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You dragged your head back up to the tip then fully down again.

“Fuck you’re taking me so well” he gripped your hair

You pop him out of your mouth and stroked his length with your hand.

“You like that Eddie? You like me being your dirty whore?” You say as you pump him in your hand.

“Fuck baby you’re filthy” he breaths.

You crawl up to kiss him as your hand still works him. His lips are so soft, and so gentle compared to the words that have been coming out of his mouth.

“Gotta fuck you.” He pulls away and pushes you back on your back and in one swift motion, Eddie pulls down your pants and underwear. “She’s already ready for me” he leaned down and licked you from your glistening hole to your clit in one agonizingly slow swipe.

“Mmmmph Eddie please” you ground your hips up for any sense of relief.

“Patients darlin’ ” he smirked before sucking on your clit.

“No, I’ve waited long enough, fuck me now.” You demanded.

“Yes ma’am” he didn’t even hesitate. His cock plunged into you. You let out a moan of pleasure as he stretched you out.

“Fuck you’re so big” you praise as he pulled almost all the way out

“You can take it” he slammed his hips back into you.

Eddie was relentless, he abused you cunt with no second thought to it.

“Fuckin should had this pussy weeks ago” he gritted through his teeth.

“You could have if you weren’t so-FUCK ME!”you cried.

Eddie didn’t let up, the way he was pounding your pussy was like heaven in earth. He slid his hand between your two bodies to massage your clit. It took him no time to find.

“Uuuuhhhhhnn” You called out in pleasure.

“What was that baby? I could have had you weeks ago? I bet I could have you little slut but I was waiting for the perfect moment” Eddie panted.

“Yes yes yes yes” you chanted. Yes to him and yes to the feeling of him hitting your g spot with each trust. Your orgasms was building and building.

“You gunna cum on this cock? Hmmm” he mocked.

“Fuck yes! Please I wanna cum so bad. Please. Fuck me Eddie, fuck me so good” you cried.

“Come for me baby girl” he cooed, still massaging your clit.

“Eddie!” You called as your orgasm took over your whole body. Waves of euphoria pluses through you.

“Good girl” Eddie praised and you shook below him. You cunt tightening around his cock was enough to throw him over the edge, cum spilling into you. Eddie rolled off you and layes down beside you.

A few moments of silence passed before you spoke up.

“So didn’t you know I was flirting with you this whole time or?” You looked over at him

“Pffft of course I did” he looked up at the ceiling.

You raised a brow at him. Even if he couldn’t see you Eddie could feel your eyes burning into him.

“Sure you did” you scoff with a laugh.

“Don’t make me come back over there” he threatened.

“Ooooo I’m so scared” you roll over and laugh into his cheek.

“Get over here” he pinned you down to the mattress.

Safe to say he definitely showed you two more times that night.

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oneforthemunny · 2 months

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light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.

contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.

"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.

Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.

Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.

"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.

Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.

For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.

Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.

The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.

"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"

Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.

A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.

Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.

The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.

"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.

It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.

"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.

You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.

"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."

"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Yeah." You hummed.

"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."

"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."

You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.

"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.

Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.

"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.

"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.

"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."

"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.

"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.

"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."

"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.

"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."

Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.

He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.

"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.

You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.

There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.

"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.

"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"

"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."

Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."

Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.

"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"

"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.

Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.

The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.

Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.

"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.

"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.

"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"

"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.

He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.

It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.

"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.

"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.

The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.

Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.

Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.

"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.

"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."

Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.

"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."

"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"

You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."

"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"

"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.

"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.

"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.

Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.

"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."

It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.

Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.

"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"

You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."

Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.

"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.

"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.

"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.

"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.

"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.

"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.

You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.

"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.

The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.

Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"

You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.

"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."

Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.

He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.

Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.

Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.

For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.

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neonghostlights · 5 months

Text

Eddie flipped through the magazine, once and then again before he blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes until he saw stars, but none of this did anything to change what was printed on the glossy page before him.

You, walking out of your job and unaware of the camera aimed in your direction.

Eddie’s heart did a little flip at the sight of you. It had been about six years since he last saw you and even the image on the page radiated your beauty.

“Mr. Munson,” Jane spoke again, stress marring her face. “Are you still listening?”

Oh, he had been listening to the shit show that was now his life.

When he walked away from you all those years ago he never expected you to get dragged into the circus of his fame.

Becoming a rockstar had always been his dream, something he had achieved with his best friends at his side. The road had been rocky, he had fallen from grace. He made bad decisions, treated people like shit. He had gotten himself together, mostly, but now karma was catching up to him like the pest she was.

He had pissed someone off. He wasn’t sure who but they had made it a point to spite him.

The magazine had printed a tell all about the three exes of Eddie Munson.

Eddie scoffed at the title.

The Three Exes of Eddie Munson: Their Time to Talk

He would hardly say Rosie was an ex, hard to be that when they were never real at all. It was simply PR a way to promote his album and her movie. Her page showed her on the streets of Italy, clearly a photo shot by the paparazzi as the hid behind a building. She was smiling, laughing at something her costar said.

Her feature talked about her and Eddie’s ‘short and sweet whirlwind romance before it turned sour with partying.’

He did have a habit of partying in those days. He honestly didn’t remember the incident that caused their agreement to end but he knew it was bad.

The second ex was Jennifer. Jennifer was a poorly judged fling that should have never happened. She was a model, polished and proper and he was, well, Eddie.

It didn’t even last a week.

Her photo was her walking down the runway, face trained ahead and staring at the camera that she knew loved her.

Her feature said that Eddie left her broken hearted and ruined, that he made it hard for her to ever trust another man.

Eddie knew that wasn’t exactly how it went down.

The next page was the one that really hurt.

You looked tired, overworked as you walked out of the building.

Eddie traced a finger over your photo. It had been so long since he last saw you. He recognized the building in the photo so that meant you must have stayed in Hawkins when he left you brokenhearted on his trailer steps.

He wondered how they knew about you. Who in their right mind would spill to the world his best kept secret?

There was no juicy printed story under your photo, only speculations about who you were to him.

“Eddie?” His managers voice cut in, ruining his train of thought.

“Fix this. Now.” He snapped, shoving the magazine and his only remaining photo of you into his jacket pocket.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie x reader

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tiannasfanfic · 11 months

Text

White Wedding

Eddie Munson x Reader (Smut)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: After your wedding, Eddie takes full advantage of having you alone during the limo ride to the reception.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Author Note: Afab reader, they/them pronouns (if any), no Y/N, no Vecna AU. Not specifically mentioned in story that Eddie is a Rockstar, that’s just how I imagine this version of Eddie. Reader wears a white wedding dress and lingerie, and has their hair and makeup done, so implied femme leaning Reader (at least for their wedding). No other descriptions of the dress, hair or makeup. Filthy newlywed smut ahead!

CW: Kinda Perv!Eddie and Perv!Reader; Smut (p in v, f recieving oral, fingering, spit for lube); exhibitionism (sex in a moving limo); mild corruption kink (Eddie).

Word Count: 1,953

After you and Eddie get married, the first time you have any alone time together as husband and wife is in the limousine on the way to the hotel for your reception.

Eddie hasn’t been able to stop staring since he first laid eyes on you as you walked down the aisle towards him. You look so breathtaking and ethereal in your wedding dress, with your soft makeup and hair done in a way that compliments your facial features.

Not long after you get on the road, he leans forward to tell the driver to take you on a small circle around the city and keep driving around until he says otherwise. The driver is paid by the hour, so he doesn’t care.

When the privacy divider is once again closed, Eddie’s slides down onto his knees in front of you. His lips devour yours in a passionate kiss as his hands travel up under the skirt of your wedding dress, pushing the fabric up along the way. Once all the fabric of your skirt is bunched up around your waist, he pulls back a little to take a good look at you and groans deeply at the sight before him. Even though he was expecting some sort of lingerie under your dress, nothing could have prepared him for the ensemble when he sees it. It was all in white to match your dress, there was absolutely nothing virginal or pure about it aside from the color.

Covering your legs were a pair of thigh high stockings, each one held securely in place by tiny straps belonging to the garter belt that circling your waist. Your panties were little more than a simple triangle of lace held together with a few strings, the weave of the lace loose enough to tease him with the barest glimpse of what was underneath. Letting his gaze travel lower, he can’t help but follow the line of your panties with his eyes to fully take in the sight of your lace clad pussy…and he nearly chokes on his own spit when he realizes they are crotchless.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” Eddie groans, licking his lips as his hands spreads your thighs wider so he can get a better look. “You wrapped her up all nice and pretty for me, didn’t you?”

You slowly rolled your hips off the seat and up towards him, giving him a better view between your legs for a moment before settling back down. The result was another groan from Eddie, and he moved his hand so he could start softly rubbing your clit with his thumb. A soft moan leaves your lips and Eddie shivers.

“Want play with your present now or later?” you ask him, batting your eyelashes with an innocent smile.

He doesn’t bother answering verbally, instead he ducks his face down to your pussy to run his tongue through your folds. The moan that leaves his mouth at your taste makes his lips vibrate against you and you moan rises from your throat in response. One of your hands comes to rest on the back of his head, fingers gripping into his curls and giving them a soft tug in that way he loves, making Eddie groan again.

He brings the fingers of his free hand down spread you open, giving him better access to your wet core so he can dip his tongue inside. With his tongue flicking in and out of you and his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the feeling makes you start grinding your hips up off the seat against his mouth.

“God, baby,” you moan, head thrown back against the backrest of the seat. “Feels so good.” Your hips continue to rock up into his face and he starts timing the motions of his tongue with the motions of your hips. “Always so good to me, baby. Always taking care of me.”

“Always will, sweetheart,” he groans into your pussy, your breathless praise going straight to his cock and making his own hips rut forward into the empty air. Then looks up at you to watch your face as he slowly sinks his middle finger into you. “My pretty little wife deserves only the best.”

As he starts fingering you, his lips make their way to your clit, where he starts kissing over it and around it. Your hips arch up higher, pushing yourself up into his face. He makes a sound of pleasure at this, then begins rapidly flicking his tongue around your clit.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out with a gasp, gripping his hair harder.

Your thighs are already trembling on either side of his head, a sure sign your orgasm was approaching. Eddie felt his ego soar. He always took pride in how fast he could make you cum, but this had to be a new record.

He rocked his fingers into you twice more, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge with each one, and then pulled them out of you without warning. The needy gasp that left your mouth made his cock throb painfully as he rose onto his knees between your legs.

“Eddie, please,” you whined softly, reaching out for him and grasping at his shirt to pull him closer as he started working open the front of his belt. “Need you so much, baby.”

It only takes a moment to get his pants open and pushed down below his ass along with his boxers. He quickly slots himself between your legs, then grasps the base of his cock to guide the head to your center and starts to sink himself into you.

The sounds that leave you both are loud, probably loud enough to be heard over the driver’s music, but you didn’t care, and Eddie didn’t seem to either. He only gave you both a few seconds to adjust before setting a quick pace that had you moaning even louder than before.

“Mm, this pussy is officially mine now,” Eddie grunted out, then groaned as you clenched around him at his words. “Legally mine even. Mine to do whatever I want to it.”

You clench around him again and he curses before slowing his thrusting down. As much as his balls were aching to release in you, he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. You felt like a dream right now, looked like a dream right now. You are perfect. So perfect that part of him is sure he’s going wake up as soon as he cums and discover it all really was just a dream after all, and he’s not ready to risk that just yet.

After he’s given himself a few seconds to calm down, Eddie slides a hand under one of your thighs to lift your leg up, bringing it up to hook around his waist. You moan deeply as the head of his cock pushes deeper into you, this new angle opening you up to him even more.

With your one foot that was still free, you push down against the floor for leverage and start rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts, matching your movements with his so your bodies are perfectly in sync. His head drops down and his eyes close, responding to your sounds with loud groans of his own.

His lips once again seek out yours in a heated kiss and you respond eagerly. You both lose track of everything around you, forgetting where you were and even what you were doing before his cock was inside you. Even though he kept that same steady pace that was slower than he normally goes, it wasn’t long before he pulled back from your lips just enough to speak.

“Not gonna - fuck!” he groaned, his thrusting stuttering for a few seconds before resuming the previous pace. “N-not gonna last much longer, sweetheart.”

“Cum in me, baby,” you moaned against his lips, feeling your own orgasm close. “Want you to me up.”

Eddie’s whole body nearly convulsed at your words, and he fought the urge to start slamming into you without mercy. He manages to maintain the same pace as before, but his thighs shake with the effort.

“Yeah?” he pants, gripping onto your thigh even tighter, as if it’s helping him hold onto the last of his composure. “Want me leaking out of you all night?”

You bite your lip as you grin up at him.

“Yeah, want my- fuck!” you said, and moaned as he aimed a sharp thrust into you. “Want my pussy dripping when you’re done.”

Eddie started pounding into you hard and deep. He could feel you were close, but not as close as he was, and he needed to change that fast. Pulling his upper body off you, he leaned back so he could once again see his cock disappearing inside you. The sight always made his cock twitch, but he didn’t enjoy the view for long. He slowed down his pace just long enough to he could spit down onto your pussy, aiming for you your clit.

The feeling of his warm saliva hitting directly on your sensitive nub made a small shiver travel through your legs. Before that feeling can fully fade, Eddie makes another jolt go through them when he starts to rub the pad of his thumb over your clit, making quick circles around it as he resumes pounding into you.

Your moans are nearly a scream once you tip over the edge, his name leaves your mouth almost sounding like a wail as you cry it out towards the ceiling. A sound close primal growl erupts from Eddie. His fingers dig into your thigh so hard it’s right on the edge of pleasurable pain and unpleasant. There will be a bruise later, but you know that’s not the only mark you’re going to have after the wedding night and honeymoon.

Eddie thrusts into you harder, making you gasp and cry out at the sharpness before he finally stills, his hips twitching as cum spurts from the tip of his cock, filling you just like you wanted.

You are both still for a few moments, just lying there with Eddie halfway on top of you, his head buried in your neck with his cock still inside you. But then, once you both came down from your highs, it seemed to hit you both at the same time exactly what just happened, and the two of you simultaneously erupted into giggling fits.

The marriage was consummated, and you both just fucked in the back of a limo.

By the time you and Eddie arrived at the reception, you were nearly thirty minutes late. Both of you were prepared to get yelled at, but no one batted an eye once you walked in.

As it turns out, due to some unforeseen issues that came up with the room, the hotel was late in getting the reception hall ready. It was almost another half hour before you all could go in and get things started.

The reception starting late was the only snag to happen during your wedding. Once it got started, the wait was forgotten, and everyone had an amazing time. Nearly all your friends and the family you wanted there were able to attend, and that thrilled you both. The night was filled until the wee morning hours with dancing, laughter, good food and good drinks.

But, about halfway through, you managed to pull Eddie away from all the fun into a broom closet. Between how happy you were and how sexy he looked in the suit he chose for the event, you were desperate for a refill, and he was all too happy to oblige.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson au #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #rockstar!eddie munson #husband!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson

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eddiesghxst · 4 months

Text

PRICE OF FAME (PART 12/12)

AHHH !! friends, we've come to the end of my first fully done series, and she's not perfect in a lot of ways but she's mine and I'm so happy and thankful to have shared it with you lovely folks

i hope I've done them justice, enjoy <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you decide to visit eddie for a chat

contains: enemies to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of anal, mentions of death (readers relative), sexual themes, angst, heavy mutual pining, fluff, and eddie being so head over heels that it's hot <3

word count: 10.6k

| previous part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

“So, from the new album— Wasting Love.”

Over time, Eddie’s learned that he can’t stand interviews— especially interviews with questions aimed towards nothing but tabloid gossip and headlines. The first big interview that Corroded Coffin booked was exciting because— well, it was their first one! Maybe the questions weren’t as intricate and thought-out as the ones they gave David Bowie on TV, but it was something.

That excitement wore off quickly, though, and unfortunately, interviews are one of the top ways to spread publicity so— “Wasting love,” Eddie huffs, tipping his hips forward as he shifts on the couch. He’s bored out of his mind, aching to leave and be done with the shitty questions about his love life or the people he hangs around or whatever. He taps the heel of his foot into the ground, lips twisting as he chews at the inside of his cheek, “What about it, man?” Eddie asks.

The rest of the band is in the fucking clouds— why would they answer a question about a song entirely unrelated to them? Plus, Eddie’s 99.9% sure they did a few lines without him, which, fucking assholes.

The interviewer shrugs, “Well, why didn’t it make it to the final cut? And what’s it about? Tell us more about that track.”

What a bullshit fucking question.

Wasting Love is one of the most, if not the most, straightforward songs Eddie’s ever fucking written. The only reason why he’s asking about this is because, well, there’s been rumors of Eddie and his most recent love affair— none of which are true, but Eddie doesn’t bother to come out and tell the truth because what’s the point? What’s the point in telling the truth if it will get twisted anyway?

Either way, Eddie shrugs, blinking behind his dark sunglasses, “I mean…” He purses his lips and tips his head side to side as if thinking, “Kinda self-explanatory with the lyrics, man.” He finally responds.

And in the background, Eddie can see Richie practically constructing his next ‘I know you hate it, but it’s good publicity’ lecture. So, Eddie relents— “It’s about… meaningless sex basically. And it didn’t make the cut because it was a shitty song.”

It wasn’t, actually, Eddie thinks it was a great fucking song, but the intentions behind it— not quite so.

“I think the fans would disagree on that.” The interviewer jokes.

Jeff takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat, “I mean, part of it was because it just didn’t flow with the essence of the album.” He adds, and Eddie mentally thanks him for taking over and so easily diverting the topic to something else. For the rest of the interview, Eddie’s mind is elsewhere, thinking about everything outside of this room, thinking about what he’ll eat later, thinking about the show tonight, thinking about you.

Yeah, you haven’t left his fucking mind in the past six months you’ve been apart from one another. It’s been six months, and Corroded Coffin has released two albums and started their second leg of tour since he last saw you— and you’re still all he thinks about.

You’re still in his dreams, still dancing behind his eyelids when he shuts his eyes, still vomiting all over his fucking journal when he writes. It’s madness, really. Eddie can’t remember the last time he was this hung up on someone— he wasn’t even this distraught when Chrissy left him.

Sure when he and Chrissy ended, he wallowed in it for a month or two, but it wasn’t long before he got fixed on uppers and groupies. Chrissy was heartbreaking in the sense that she was his first love, his first real relationship— but this… this is different. Eddie doesn’t know why it’s different, can’t really pinpoint where the colors change, and the memories start to jab at his chest differently, but he feels it.

He feels it when he’s sitting backstage before a show, feels it when he steps into a new hotel room every night, feels it when he’s ruffling through his suitcase and comes across that journal that’s been haunting him for ages now, and he definitely feels it when he reads the fifth page in the Rolling Stone magazine where the description of Eddie resides, the one where you’d crafted and molded Eddie into a shape he’d never been able to see before, the one where Eddie first came to terms with the true sight of you and your intentions.

Yeah, it’s fucking bullshit, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in this predicament, but by god, he would never fucking recommend it because— fuck, you won’t even talk to him!

And sure, you don’t owe Eddie anything, you don’t owe him a call or a chance to visit or anything of the sort, but Eddie was holding onto that sliver of hope you gave him before you left.

He asks about you when he can, because, unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s quite familiar with your boss, Anna, and she’s like an annoying older sister to him. Anna tells Eddie how much of an idiot he is occasionally, but she always cracks and tells Eddie that you’ve been good and how you sometimes mention him, but it’s always quick, and nobody ever has room to pry about it. And when Anna tells Eddie about how you crossed paths backstage with a certain red-headed girl and read her to filth, Eddie chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of, “That’s my girl.”

Anna nearly gagged then.

Still, Eddie only catches glimpses and whispers of you, never really getting the full fix to last him a day, but it’s enough to keep him alive and wanting.

“Maybe she doesn’t get your calls, man.” Gareth shrugs, leaning into the mirror as he ruffles his hair. It’s been hours since the interview now, and showtime is in… Eddie doesn’t know when because he didn’t listen when Richie was rambling on about tonight’s schedule.

“She gets my calls, dude; Anna said she does,” Eddie grumbles.

“Okay, well, then maybe she’s just, like, over it. I don’t blame her; you're a pain in the ass.”

Eddie kicks his boot into Gareth’s shin, and the boy hisses, tossing a red Rillos wrapper at him. “Ow, asshole. It’s not my fault she hates your music.” He snips. Eddie makes a face, “It’s your music too, dumbass.”

Gareth scoffs, “Yeah, but you wrote an entire fucking album about her. Our album is literally about her, you know that, right?” And Eddie thinks he should just kick Gareth’s teeth in at this point, maybe that’ll get him to shut up. “How would you know it’s about her if I never told you it was?” Eddie prods.

Gareth rolls his eyes, dark eyeliner casting a shadow on his face as he turns to glare at his friend. “Is there another chick you’ve been fucking that’s got you by the balls that we seem to have forgotten about?” Gareth sarcastically asks. Eddie glares at him, reaching for the cigarettes on the vanity table and sparking up.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke when he answers, “No.”

Gareth makes a face, eyebrows raising in an ‘I rest my case' manner. “And she’s not a chick,” Eddie adds.

Gareth hums with a tight grin, reaching out to poke at his friend's face, causing Eddie to grimace and bat him away, “You’re in love, Munson. Fix it or get over it,” He says shortly before making his way toward the door. Eddie can hear the dull scream of fans when Gareth opens the door, and Eddie thinks about the tickets he’s sent you every show— prays to whatever false god there is that you decided tonight is the night before he decides hope is useless and you’ve gotten over him. Gareth cuts through Eddie’s thoughts, “Come on, I can hear Richie’s bitching from here.”

Eddie’s mind is never in the game until he steps onto the stage, with bright lights blinding him, screaming fans, and his adrenaline at an all-time high. He comes back to earth then, comes back, and does the fuck out of his job— because this is the best part. The best fucking part, and it’s always been that way.

And it gets better when Eddie scans the crowd, coming down from the first song of the night and finally taking a look at his audience, and there he sees it— he sees you. There you are under flashing lights, drowning in a sea of people with that glint in your eyes.

Eddie thinks he’s imagining it because, fuck, he’s been dreaming of this for weeks on end; surely his delusion can reach the heights of hallucinations, right? But no, you’re real.

You’re so fucking real. So fucking insanely real beneath Eddie’s fingertips when he reaches out, ignoring the screams and clawing of fans as his fingers loop around your wrists and he says your name.

God, you’re really fucking here.

Eddie looks prettier than you remember when you first see him— curly mane draped over his shoulders and dark tattoos glistening on a bare torso, white lights framing him like he’s some kind of fucking archangel.

He’s gotten thicker in the few months, beefier around his arms and chest, and the long chains and pendants he wears from his neck rest down the valley of his torso, smeared in sweat and sin. You want to drag your tongue across his chest, taste the salt and his cologne, tug the silver cross between your lips, and suck and make him whimper.

His eyeliner is smudged and dark, and his smile when he gets a moment to take in the crowd makes your chest ache. He’s so pretty it hurts. He’s a dream and a nightmare all at once.

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His smile falters when he sees you, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but his eyebrows pinch like he’s in pain, and you only want to wrap yourself around him and breathe in that scent that’s been haunting for nights on end.

He’s insane for jumping down to the barricade, like, completely-lost-his-fucking-mind, down-in-the-gutter, insane. But you can’t find it in you to protest when he steps up to the fence, reaching out and looping his warm finger around your wrist. “What the fuck?”

Your lips twitch into a smile at his words, but the crowd is getting rowdy with their beloved rockstar so up close and an elbow is being shoved into your side and Eddie moves quicker than you can comprehend, tugging you forward to the very front and motioning you to jump over.

“You’re insane!” You yell over the noise of the crowd. Eddie grins, damp curls dangling over his eyes as he peers down at you, “Unless if you wanna get crushed, be my guest.”

It’s slightly difficult, and there are a lot of gangly limbs and yearning hands reaching out everywhere, but Eddie eventually gets you over the barricade, and you’re gazing up at him with a warm grin when you sway on your feet. You wish you and Eddie could just walk away and have each other like you’ve been imagining for months, but Eddie has a job, and he’s working.

His eyes are blown wide, and his lips are so kissable, and his warm hand is squeezing your hip as he nods toward a security guard. “Keep an eye on this one, Rob,” He shouts over the screaming fans. You’re eyeing Eddie as he steps back toward the stage, sinking his in-ear back into place with a sly grin as he winks, “She’s real sneaky.”

The show is great, as it always is, and Eddie tries to be deft about it, but it’s evident to just about everyone how he practically clings to the side of the stage where you’re standing in front of. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but you feel bad for the fans, so you try to move around a bit.

The last song comes, and the show ends with Eddie and Jeff practically climbing over one another as they shred their guitars and the crowd goes insane when Eddie leans forward to drag his tongue up the side of Jeff’s face, grinning when the other boy rolls his eyes and walks off.

You’re being pulled backstage quicker than you know it, just in time to meet the group as they jog off the smokey stage with big grins on their faces.

Jeff is smothering Naomi in a sweaty hug and smattering kisses all over her face, and you’re glad to see they’re still together. Gareth is twirling his drumstick between his fingers and scanning the room for someone, but you don’t have time to try and figure out who because the one person you’ve been waiting for steps out next, and he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he practically jogs up to you.

You’re smiling and giggling out a greeting as he steps up to you and grasps your face between his hands, “No kisses!” You warn before he can lean in, and Eddie’s too excited to even pout about it. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?”

You reach up to slink your fingers around his wrists as his thumbs caress the soft skin beneath your eyes, “Got enough life left in you to talk?” You ask. Eddie’s eyes dance across your face, taking you in like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to before he nods. “Always.”

The dressing room seems to be the altar of truth for you and Eddie.

It’s dawning on you that most of the pivotal moments between you and Eddie have been in a dressing room, so it’s not irrational for you to feel a bit uneasy when you step in, and Eddie closes the door.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, trying not to touch what he sees. His eyes are so bright, but you can tell he’s holding himself back from doing and saying the things he wants, and you appreciate that he’s giving you the space, waiting for you to give him your yes or no.

Eddie plops onto the couch in the middle of the room and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. You deeply breathe, shifting in your spot before leaning back against the door, tipping your head as you study him; thighs comfortably spread, inked stories fluttering to life with each rise and fall of his bare torso. He’s a dream.

“I thought you’d be way more upset.”

Eddie’s lips tug like he wants to smile at the sound of your voice, or maybe it’s the sight of you, and he shifts in his seat with a shrug, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips, and when you see him pat himself down, you’re already moving like it’s muscle memory.

You pick up the lighter on the coffee table and walk over to Eddie, sparking the flame as you speak, “You’re allowed to be upset, you know?” You remind him. Eddie’s gaze flickers in color as he looks up at you, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that rise up on your skin when his hand reaches up to rest on your hip, thumb caressing you over the material of your skintight dress. Streams of fire are licking up your spine as he leans forward to burn the end of the paper stick, and your center aches when he gently squeezes the fat of your hip. All throughout this, Eddie never lets his eyes fall from you.

He mumbles a short thank you once the cigarette lights, leaning back to rest against the seat as he looks up at you. You fight the urge to comb your fingers through his hair or do something dumb like climb into his lap. No doubt talking would fly out the window then.

You gently toss the lighter onto the coffee table and sit on the loveseat across from the pinnacle of your thoughts from the last six months. Eddie speaks around a cloud of smoke, “Do you want me to be upset?” He asks.

You shrug, trying your hardest not to break beneath his unwavering eye. “I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles then, and the strings of your heart play a symphony to the notes of his voice when he speaks, “I was for a little bit,” He admits, tapping ash onto the carpet, “But then Wayne told me to get my head out of my ass.”

You huff out a laugh at that, and Eddie grins. “How is he?” You ask. Eddie tips his head back and forth like he’s thinking, “Same old man as before. Think he’s got a girlfriend now. He’s being an asshole about the details, though.” He rolls his eyes, and you snort. You’re happy to hear Wayne has a person for himself now; if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

You shift, like you can’t seem to get comfortable enough, and you know you’re stalling, and you can see Eddie fighting to not call you out, so you try to ease into it; “Is that when you stopped calling?” You ask.

Eddie stiffens under the question, and you know the answer. He grimaces and runs a hand over his face with a soft groan, “Fuck,” he curses, “Fuck, yeah, it was.” He answers. “I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ hothead. I had made it a goal to call every night and then—” “I upset you.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes on his, “It wasn’t fair what I did, Eddie; I’m sorry—”

Eddie shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes as he waves you off, “Nah, fuck that. You don’t need to apologize—” “But I do. I told you I wanted space, and then a week later, I’m plastered on a fucking cover with Baine fucking Carter.”

Baine Carter is a well-known songwriter within the industry. He’s got tracks spread all over the top charts, and he has a way of talking that can make just about anyone fall into a trance until you realize most of what he’s saying is just made-up bullshit. In hindsight, Baine wasn’t much different than most people in the music industry— it was a moment of weakness and pure vodka-weighted thinking. And, of course, it’s the moment when cameras find you.

“Kinda my fault too,” Eddie shrugs, “Camera’s wouldn’t have found you if I didn’t have press riding me.” And he’s right, but shitty press isn’t his fault, so how much of that can you really blame him for?

Eddie snickers at the memory of you painted on the cover of several magazines, “Think you’ve got a type, sweetheart.” He teases. Your face screws up in defense, and you scoff, “What does that mean?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Come on, you’re gonna tell me you didn’t say my name when he—” “We didn’t do anything— firstly— and even if I did say your name, I would never in a million years admit it.” You point out with a raised eyebrow.

Eddie smirks with a playful glint in his eye and he deeply breathes as he ashes his cigarette and rises to his feet. “I don’t care that you hooked up with Bain fucking Carter,” Eddie softly admits with a hint of a mocking grin, “Did it deeply wound me to the point where I almost thought I was gonna die? Yes.” He jokingly says, to which you want to roll your eyes at, but he’s stalking over to you like he’s some lion on the prowl, and all you can muster is a small huff with a mumbled, “You’re dramatic.”

Eddie stands in front of you and leans over to press his palms onto each side of your seat, leaning down until his face hovers above yours, “I’m kinda known for it, darling.” He winks.

Your core stirs at the proximity, and you can feel his breath against your top lip. “I will admit, though,” Eddie lets his hand drop to round over your bare knee, callused fingertips caressing your soft skin, “It gave me a huge ego boost seeing you with a literal replica of me.” He snickers, fingers dancing into the inside of your thigh. You huff, a playful glint in your eyes as you run your tongue across your teeth, “Yeah, I imagine your head couldn’t fit through the door for at least a month, huh?”

Eddie shrugs, “Depends. Which head we talking about, honey?”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes when he gently squeezes at the warm skin of your thigh. You tip your head lower, holding your gaze on Eddie as you lowly speak, “I’m not having sex with you tonight, Eddie.”

Brown eyes flash with a familiar look you’d missed before they drop to your lips. “What about a kiss? Just one.” He presses. Your eyes narrow, “I doubt you could ever do just one.”

“You’ll never know if you never try.” His lips twitch up into a sly grin, taunting you and pushing you until your brain is just a muddled mess of yes, no, yes, no, yes, n— fuck it.

It’s like a sigh of relief to have Eddie’s lips on yours after such a long time. Weeks of nights and days spent trying to remember how it felt having his plump lips pressed onto yours, how he tasted, how warm his tongue was when it slunk into your mouth. None of those times you’d try to remember, none of those phantom feelings that would breeze through your body could ever amount to how it actually feels— it’s as if you’re seeing color for the first time.

It’s a fucking kiss, that’s for sure.

It’s long, and it takes you both a second to relearn the kinks and maneuvers you both favor, but then it’s as if time never passed between your bodies— you’re moving like one unit, like every second of your lives has built up to this moment.

Unfortunately, air is a necessity to living, so you’re pulling away sooner than you’d wanted to. Eddie’s other hand is digging into the cushion beneath you, and you can practically hear his thoughts spinning as he wills himself to pull back. You shiver as his fingers squeeze your thigh one last time before slipping away.

“How's that for a kiss?”

Brown eyes with pools of liquid gold, you missed the searing pain it gave you each time you reached out and touched. You purse your lips, tasting him on your tongue as you tip your head in thought— menthol and whiskey. “Care to answer a few questions? Pick up on our game?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your nose as he snickers with a glint in his eyes. He studies you for a moment, like you might pull out and say never mind, but you only raise an eyebrow as you await an answer. “Your place or mine, honey?” He drawls.

You preen at the open door he’s lent you, “It’s your city, isn’t it?”

You don’t take the same car with Eddie to his place.

It’s not that you didn’t want to take the same car, but something about that look in Eddie’s eyes said that he absolutely wouldn’t be behaving on that car ride, and you immediately suggested separate vehicles. You’re unsure if you trust yourself to hold your promise in a confined space with Eddie… or maybe you don’t trust him… or— yeah, it’s both of you. Eddie wasn’t ecstatic about it, but you don’t care because you swear to god you aren’t going to fuck Eddie before you talk— like, really talk.

There are things that you both need to say, uncover, and express feelings about, and god forbid you get dicknotized before the words can come out correctly.

Eddie’s home is everything you thought it would be: chaotic in taste, lively, musical, whimsical, and all things that scream Eddie. The entryway is open and vast, with a clear view into the living room, where you can see a sunken living room build with guitars and papers strewn about.

Eddie’s ushering you further into his home before you can look deeper into the entrance, but you don’t mind because his living area is like an artist's wet dream. There are comfy couches, red, cream, and colors alike, and there’s a rug in the middle that looks like a psychedelic trip of dark colors, and along one of the walls is a long shelf of endless records.

“I moved in like a year ago, so it’s not perfect, but… this is me,” Eddie says. You hadn’t been paying attention, but now that he walks into your line of vision, you can see his shoes are off, and his loose blouse is fully open. He looks like a fantasy; lean body dripped in expensive clothes and clinking jewelry, shoulders broad and sculpted beneath his wavy hair. Fuck.

You slip your shoes off and let your feet sink into his home's fluffy, deep red carpet, never once dropping your gaze from him as you walk over to the couch. “It’s beautiful, Eddie. It’s very you.”

You sink into his couch, turning so you can face him with your arms crossed over the back of the sofa as you watch him pick a record and set it up. Through the surround system of his home, the familiar riff to Tommy Bolin’s Shake The Devil rings. You watch Eddie sink a hand into his hair, shaking out his messy curls before pausing. The guitar is loud and you’re leaning forward when he snaps his head to dramatically look over his shoulder. You stifle a laugh, intrigued to see where he’s going with this— and you hate to admit that you begin enjoying the show when he turns around, fingers crafted and messily playing an air guitar to the track.

His stomach and chest flex with each of his moves, the buckle and button to his jeans open to flash you a dangerously low view of his happy trail leading to sinful places. He’s walking sex; head tilted back as he shreds the imaginary guitar, hips moving with the song as he walks toward you. He sinks to his knees in front of you, and with his living room being sunken and him still being on the higher level, you’re just in line with the view of his spread legs, crotch on full display. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gazes at you, switching to air drums before the words kick in. You can’t hide the smile that graces your lips as he dramatically sings along, leaning forward until his face is just inches in front of yours, ringed fingers reaching to cup your face. Standing face to face with the devil, huh?

Your hands have a mind of their own apparently because they reach out and coast up Eddie’s jean-clad thighs, nails scratching up against the material until your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans. You lean forward on your knees, sharing a breath with the pretty boy, and you smile. Eddie groans low in his throat, the breakdown of the song blasting in both your ears and your heart racing. His teeth dig into his lips like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, and you softly laugh. “Laughin’ at my misery?” He asks.

You shrug, “Maybe. You look fuckin’ hot.”

Eddie groans again, eyes rolling back into his head before he dives forward, nuzzling his face into your neck and faking a bite as you squeal. “Can’t say shit like that to me, princess. Wanna fuck the shit out of you.” His teeth drag against your pulse, and you squirm with a louder squeal, causing him to tumble forward, collapsing onto the couch with you, and your limbs mix like one big painting as he dramatically grunts on impact. He shifts until he’s laid on his back, head resting in your lap as he peers up at you.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You snort, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “Didn’t I tell you we’re not having sex?” You remind him. Eddie huffs and digs his head into your lap as he shuffles in his spot, “Did I ask for sex just now?” He challenges. You raise an unconvinced eyebrow, “So, you want me to spend the night just to spend the night?”

Eddie’s eyes gleam as he looks up at you, “It’s been my dream.”

You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him off you with a huff, “Get me a drink, and I’ll think about it?”

Eddie hops up as if second nature, padding over to the stereo and turning it down just enough to hear you as he talks over his shoulder, “Sure thing, honey; what would you like?”

Honey, honey, honey.

You want to drown in it.

You’re not listening as Eddie lists off the drinks he has, busy swirling in sticky, sweet, golden lakes and admiring the shift of Eddie’s hips and ass beneath his jeans. “Surprise me.” You respond.

“Copy that, madam.”

He doesn’t go far because there’s a built-in bar on the other side of the room, so you have the perfect view of him working his magic, mixing liquor and dropping ice cubes into a crystal glass. When he finishes making your drink, he turns and walks over to you with this glint in his eyes, and you feel your body heat under his gaze. “This one's on the house,” He says with a wink, handing you the drink. You thank him, taking the glass as he sits back onto the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and watching you gently sip before pulling a sour face.

He laughs, “Too strong?” He asks. You grimace with a shake of your head, smacking your lips, “No, no, it’s good. Thank you.”

Your legs are kicked up on the couch, and Eddie finds his fingers slinking around your bare ankle, gently squeezing, “Want something comfy?” He asks.

God, he’s relentless.

You laugh, “You really want me to stay,” You tease. Eddie sinks like he’s letting all inhibitions go as he answers, “Desperately.”

He can tell you’re cracking, and you have to hide your grin behind the glass as you shake your head in disbelief at yourself, “Fine. Go, before I change my mind.”

And Eddie’s sprinting up, holding his jeans up from falling as he jogs up the stairs with a happy cheer.

A half-hour passes, and you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s comfy living room floor, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt of his because, in Eddie’s words, ‘there’s no need for pants in a home setting, sweetheart.’ You think he just wants easy access and an eyeful of your bare legs.

Eddie’s licking up the crease of a blunt and your body is warm with whiskey and the shrill of a jazzy melody from the radio. He’s so pretty, leaned over the glass coffee table, bare shoulders flexing, curly hair draping as a curtain as he works. He clicks his tongue when he’s done, and you raise an eyebrow, pressing your bare toes into his thigh when he scoots closer. “Up for a smoke?” He asks.

You don’t smoke much, not that you don’t enjoy a nice high, but you find yourself more appreciative of your highs when they’re spaced out and random. You nod, and Eddie grins, “Atta girl. Here, honorary first hit,” He passes the blunt to you, and you snicker, grasping it between two fingers and holding it up to your lips. Eddie helps you with a lighter, leaning forward to burn the end of the paper, and you take one good drag before pulling the bunt away, rolling the smoke into your lungs to settle as best as you can handle before you sputter out in a small coughing fit.

Your eyes water, and Eddie grins as you pass it to him, leaning forward to kiss your temple, “That was good, baby.”

You watch as he takes a hit of his own, huffing out a few coughs of his own, and jesus christ, why do rockstars always smoke devious shit? It’s strong, whatever Eddie has you smoking, and it only takes you three hits before you already feel a buzz coming, and Eddie looks so pretty with low eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Ready to play our game?” He rasps out.

“Mm.” You agree, reaching out to take another hit.

“Did you listen to the albums?”

I can't destroy what isn't there

Deliver me into my fate

If I'm alone I cannot hate

I don't deserve to have you

Oh my smile was taken long ago

If I can change I hope I never know

God, did you listen to the albums? Sure, you have it ingrained into your fucking mind, and it burns.

You smile, slowly blinking because, of course, that’s Eddie’s first question. You breathe out clouds of fairy dust as you speak, “Yes, I did. Did you read the magazine?” You ask.

Eddie nods, leaning back against the couch, extending his legs out as he eyes you, “I did. Which song did you like best?”

“Mm, the one with the drums.” You smile.

Eddie laughs, and you pass the blunt back to him before leaning back on the opposite couch, toes almost touching when you extend your legs across the carpet. “You’re a kiss-up, you know that?” He gestures to you, to which you only shrug.

Eddie crawls across the living room, and you fight the urge to reach out and thread your fingers through his hair as he plops himself right next to you, leaning against the couch as well. Your thighs are touching, and you can feel the warmth of him, and the smell of weed is wafting through the air, and you just want to nuzzle into Eddie’s chest and never leave.

“Miss me?” You teasingly ask. You can hear the slight smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds, “Negative. You?”

You snort, “Negative.”

You shuffle to lean against Eddie, and he can’t seem to help it when he reaches out to push your hair back gently. “What do you wanna be when you grow up?” You ask.

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch in confusion, no doubt lost by what you mean, considering he already has his lifetime job figured out, “What do you mean?”

You sigh, wriggling as you fight the urge to wrap your body around him, “I mean,” You shrug, “Well, you’re not gonna do this forever, right? Like, at some point, you’re going to have to throw in the towel, age, and whatnot,” You dismissively wave, “What will you do then?”

Eddie pauses and thinks for a moment, and if you couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin on yours, you would think he vanished into thin air. “I, uh…. Well, you’ll think it’s stupid.” He mumbles.

You frown, turning your head to look at him, “I won’t. Tell me. Please?”

He looks at you with these soft, fond eyes before nodding, “I wanna start a music school in Hawkins— maybe, like, a creative arts school, you know, something for the weirdos. Not just music geeks.” He admits. His tone is so soft, maybe the softest you’ve ever heard, and he’s fiddling with his rings like he’s nervous, and it’s the cutest sight you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not really celebrated there. Creativity, I mean.” He adds.

You stay quiet, allowing him to speak, “Everybody just lives to work dead-end jobs. Being creative is like… a sin or something, I don’t know. I just want to give the kids somewhere where they’ll feel… safe. Seen. Something I never got for myself.”

It’s… it’s fucking brilliant. It’s so brilliant it makes your chest ache, and you decide that you would do just about anything to make sure Eddie’s dreams of a music school come true.

“I told you it’s stupid. No one ever thinks it’s good.” He mumbles after a moment with your silence. You frown and shake your head, sitting up straight to look at him. “No. No, Eddie, it’s amazing…It’s fucking amazing, and you should do it. You have to do it.”

“You’re just playing nice.”

“No, seriously. Fuck whoever said it wasn’t a good idea, it’s brilliant.” You press on, and you want to lean in and pepper kisses all over his face because— seriously, who the fuck told him it was a shitty idea?

“I grew up in a small town too, and— shit, it was not fun wanting to be something other than a nurse or a teacher. Got a lot of shit trying to ‘reach for the stars’,” You huff out a laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so gentle as they gaze at you that you almost melt. “I would’ve appreciated something like that. Munson’s School of Arts.”

Eddie snorts at that, pink lacing with yours as a smile spreads across your lips, “Not bad actually, I might name it that.”

It’s a back and forth of that for a while, silly questions amongst genuine ones until you find yourselves sat next to each other, arms pressed together, bodies yearning to wrap around each other as you fiddle with the strings of Eddie’s carpet. And there’s something, you know. Eddie feels something that he’s not telling you, and it’s killing you because it’s what you need to hear before you take the plunge. “Are you angry with me?” You softly ask.

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and the blunt was snuffed out a while ago, so he’s not taking a drag but instead just stalling. “I mean,” he pauses, “I already told you, Birdie. What’s the point in going back on it?”

You frown, glancing at him, “Because I want you to tell me how you feel, Eddie.” You respond.

Eddie’s silent again for a longer moment, and you want to whine when he shifts away to sit in front of you. He folds his legs up, resting his elbows over his knees as he sits face to face with you, “Do you want me to be angry with you?” He steadily asks.

Your blink, “I— no?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, “Honestly, a little bit, yes. It’s okay to be angry with me, Eddie; that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Eddie’s demeanor is unwavering as he blinks at you, but his tone is accusing, “Do you want me to be angry with you so you can feel justified?”

And, ouch.

That’s not the truth at all. Or maybe it’s some truth, but in your true feelings, that’s not what you mean. It’s only a fleeting thought because you’re human, after all, right?

“That’s not fair,” You frown with a small shake of your head. Eddie raises another eyebrow, and you tilt your head, “I’m only trying to be as transparent as possible, Eddie. That was the main issue.” You remind him.

Eddie turns to the coffee table, grabs your forgotten glass of Jack Daniels, and takes a swig for himself. “You wouldn’t tell me how you felt, and I was always left in the dark.” You say.

“And I’m telling you right now that I’m not angry.” He’s teetering on the edge of irritated now, and you tilt your head. “I listened to the album, Eddie. I listened to the song; you’re seriously gonna tell me you’re not angry?”

Eddie can only glance at you then, and your frown deepens. “That’s… different.”

“How, Eddie? It’s about me—” “Yeah, because you fucking walked out on me on closing night,” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to feel?”

Your chest tightens as you look into the eyes of your dreams, lyrics swirling in your mind because you’ve fucking memorized every word. You listened to it until you felt sick, dizzy with a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs.

You sold me out to save yourself

And I won't listen to your shame

You ran away, you're all the same

Angels lie to keep control

Your chest aches when the lyrics echo in your mind.

“I just want you to be honest with me. If I made you feel that way—” “No, that’s not—” Eddie shakes his head, pinches the bridge of his nose, and cringes like it's painful. “That’s not it at all— fuck.” He puts the glass down and scoots back over to you; knees pressed into the fluffy carpet beside your thighs as he leans in and cups your face, eyes darting over your pretty features. “I was angry, and I was a shithead, and I had people talking in my ear and— shit. Please don’t think you ever blame yourself for that, please.”

Your fingers are cold, but Eddie’s wrists are warm beneath your fingertips as you frown up at him, “Just tell me how far out you are, Eds.”

Eddie looks at you with soft eyes, a callused thumb running under the delicate skin beneath your eye. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your forehead, and you preen, nuzzling forward and sinking into his warmth and scent that you’ve missed for so long.

“Not far,” He responds, lips brushing over your skin. “You?”

You hum, body reeling as Eddie slinks his arms around you, “Not far.”

Forty minutes and another blunt later, and Eddie’s floating in the fucking sky.

Eddie can’t believe it really, having you in front of him, next to him, limbs pressed to limbs with your laugh ringing in his ears— Eddie thinks this is some sick, realistic dream.

It’s tender, the space you’ve both created. You’re both fragile and reactive in the best way, like a healing exposed nerve, and Eddie will be forever in your debt for how patient you are with him. He’s not good at talking about real shit, but he’s trying to fix that, and you make it easier because you push him in the way he needs to be— you encourage him to say what he feels even if he’s afraid he might end up shooting himself in the foot and chasing you away again because— ‘It’s the only way things will get better.’

But you’ve always been patient. You were patient six months ago, and you’re patient now. You know exactly what you want, and you’re firm in what you say and feel, and it makes Eddie feel safe.

He’s never had this kind of thing— he’s never had a relationship where someone talks and leaves room for him to speak as well— two-way communication or whatever the fuck Robin says. It’s different, and it’s good, and Eddie thinks he must have shit taste if it’s taken him this long to realize it.

Chrissy never really cared for what Eddie wanted or preferred, or how something she did would make him feel. Eddie, at the time, didn’t think much of it and was more than happy to ride along with her ‘low maintenance’ nature, but it only cut him off from growth more than anything.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore because Chrissy is in the past, and you— you’re so pretty standing on Eddie’s couch in just his shirt with a blunt hanging between your fingers. You’ve just returned from changing the record— Surrealistic Pillow; Eddie knew the second you dropped the needle and watched you spin around with a shit-eating grin.

“Hippie shit,” Eddie mutters as you hop down from his couch. Your eyes narrow, “Hey,” you nudge your foot against his thigh, “Don’t be an asshole. It was on your shelf anyway.”

Eddie slinks his hand around your calf, blinking up at you as you stand over him. You reach down, the burning blunt standing between your fingers, and Eddie happily parts his lips to let you slip the tip in. Burning sativa licks up the sides of Eddie’s brain, and he melts when your other hand sinks into his hair, gently pressing his bangs back as his eyes flutter. You hum, and Eddie’s lips tip into a smile as the smoke churns in his chest. Your knuckles curl into his roots, and Eddie could fucking cum right now, no questions asked.

He’s harder than a rock, and he’s not ashamed when he sinks his hand down the open fly on his jeans to palm himself, lowly groaning as he tips his head up, playfully blowing clouds of smoke up your shirt and grinning when you squeal. He chuckles, hand slinking further up your leg to grip the fat of your thigh as he tilts his head to nip his teeth at the inside of your knee.

He turns to let his chin rest on your thigh, blinking up at you with hazy eyes, “Let me in, baby.” He pleads.

You sink to your knees until you’re face to face, and Eddie’s hands glide under your shirt, warm and itching to explore as he feels the flutter of your lungs beneath his fingertips. “No funny business, Munson.” You remind him, swatting him away when his fingers prod at the cup of your bra. Eddie grins, brain fuzzy and warm, and he can’t stop himself from leaning forward and planting a quick kiss against your lips.

“I have something for you.” He says. Your eyebrows raise, and Eddie smiles, standing up with a grunt and shaking out his stiff limbs. “Don’t move,” He points to you before padding off.

The gift Eddie has for you has been with him since the fourth week he knew you. He’s been holding onto it for so long because he’s been a coward and didn’t know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’ with his tongue— but now, Eddie’s riding on a high, and he needs you and wants you all the time and there’s no better time than now, right?

He’s holding the gift behind his back when he steps into the living room, and he smiles at the sight of you laid out on his floor, eyes closed as you sink into the music. You’re on cloud nine, Eddie can tell.

He drops to his knees over you, pressing his free hand into the floor beside your head, and his hair creates a curtain over you when you look up at him. “You look… tempting, to say the least.”

Your eyes playfully narrow at Eddie, and you squirm beneath him, “What’re you hiding behind your back?”

There are tears in your eyes as you blink down at the gift in your hands, and you know Eddie must think you’re insane for crying over a book— a journal at that. It’s a pale yellow colored leather, with two leather straps that are tied into a neat bow, and in the corner, your name is stamped in tiny cursive gold letters— your real name.

It’s a replica of your old journal, the one that had gotten ruined when you tore the pages out to prove a point. But you don’t understand— “How did you get this?” You ask in a soft voice.

Eddie grins, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip, eyes soft as he watches your eyes dance over the journal. “Called in a favor from Michigan.” He jokingly says. Your chest aches, and you frown when you look up at him, fingers tight around the binding of your gift, “You talked to him?”

Eddie snickers, “Yeah. Got a lot of shit from him first, I’ll tell you that,” He pauses and scratches at the back of his neck, “He told me he hates my music.”

You laugh at that, body warm with adoration because, yeah, that sounds like your grandfather. You sniffle, wiping under your eyes, “How did you know?” You ask.

Eddie shrugs as he sits next to you, “The cover of your journal had his name on it, so I kind of pieced it together since you share a last name.”

You don’t know what to think, what to say. It’s the kindest thing Eddie (or anyone) has ever done for you. Your grandfather had been in the business of handmaking journals for as long as you can remember; he was part of the reason why you took such a liking to journalism. He had a brief history in journalism himself, and he would sit and go through his best works with you when you struggled to fall asleep— he helped you see the world through the lens of an artist, and you never looked back.

You’re elated as you run your hands over the pages, imagining what the phone call between Eddie and your grandfather was like. You wish you could’ve been there to hear it; you wish you could’ve brought Eddie to meet him in person because even though your grandfather acted tough and mighty, he had the softest heart you’ve ever known, and he would’ve adored Eddie.

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you put the journal on the coffee table. You huff, turning to clamber onto Eddie’s lap, glaring at him as your hands dig into his shoulders, “I hate you so much.”

Eddie grins at you, and you drop your head to his chest, snuggling further into him when he wraps his arms around you. You grumble against his chest, turning your head to speak, “You’re making it so hard.” You complain.

You feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest as he hums, “Hm?”

Eddie shifts beneath you, and you sigh, turning your head up to nuzzle against the base of his throat. Your teeth drag across his skin, red lines left in their wake before you let your tongue coast up his pulsing vein, mouth kissing and suckling at what you can reach— and Eddie whimpers.

“You know…It’s past midnight.”

“Fffuck–”

Eddie’s dead.

He’s gone. Six feet under. In the next life, body turned back to dust, never coming back, dead. This must be the seventh circle of heaven— is that a thing? Or is that only hell?

Either way, Eddie’s on an entirely different plane of heaven as you press your body against his, knees tightening around his waist as he pulls you close and smears his lips against yours. He can feel the heat of your core through his pants, and his hips have a mind of their own when they buck up into you.

Your fingers are blind and eager when they wriggle through the tight space between you and Eddie, but it sends shivers up Eddie’s spine when you drag your nails down the soft skin of his lower pelvis.

Eddie’s lips part against yours, and he’s licking into your mouth, tongue flicking at your top lip as you shakily moan. “What happened to no sex tonight?” He lowly teases. His hands sink beneath your shit, squeezing at your hips and guiding the roll of your hips.

“Shut up, Eddie.” You whine, fingertips digging into his shoulders when he rubs against your covered clit. Eddie smiles, watching as your face twists in pleasure, and his chest nearly bursts because you’re so fucking pretty.

“You want me?” He asks.

Your lips twitch into a smile, and your hands slide down his arms to rest over his wrists that flex as they work you back and forth over his crotch. “Yeah,” You breathe, tipping your head down to hover your lips over Eddie’s, “I do. I want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s tongue runs over his lips, and he catches your bottom lip, and you lick out to catch his tongue before pressing your lips together. Eddie uses one hand to cup your face, “You’re not curious where my dick’s been while we were apart?” He teases.

And if you weren’t practically humping Eddie right now and thinking straight, you probably would’ve choked Eddie out or something— but you only mewl and grind down harder. “Not funny.”

Eddie hums, fingers dancing across the band of your panties before dipping past the barrier. He feels like a pirate who’s finally found the hidden treasure, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to ground himself because, Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.

His cock feels strangled and achy in his jeans, and he imagines how good it’ll feel to sink his cock into you as he swirls a gentle finger around your entrance. “For the record,” He drawls, watching your lips part when he dips his finger into you, “It’s been nowhere. My dick, I mean.”

You breathlessly laugh, hips wriggling, your pussy eager for more. “Been beating it with my fist for the last six months, so. Just want you to know— it’s only you, baby.”

You mewl, leaning forward to press your forehead against Eddie’s as you grind against him, shivering when he finally sinks a finger into you, drawing out to circle your clit with sticky arousal before sinking back in with two fingers.

You’re sharing each breath, taking each other in and out; Eddie watches with low eyes as your face twists in pleasure.

“Take it off,” He grumbles, “Take your shirt off.”

You’re moving like it’s second nature. Shaky hands reaching down to loop around the loose shirt, dragging it up and over your body— and Eddie’s head tips back with a groan. “Jesus fuck,” He curses, one hand busy working you as the other reaches down to palm your breast, “When did you take your bra off, you fuckin’ minx?”

You whimper against Eddie’s lips when he kisses you, the force of his eagerness pushing you back. Eddie keeps pressing you back, shuffling and moving around so he can press you down onto your back and hover over you. “Wanna taste you. Let me taste you.” He begs.

You shake your head, lips messily smearing against his, “No. No, you said—” god, Eddie can’t stop fucking kissing you, “You said you’ll let me have you next time, Eds.” You whine.

Fuck, you’re so fucking cute. You’re a goddamn dream pouting up at Eddie, grinding against his fingers as he ticks them up against your walls. “Yeah? You want me?” Eddie breathlessly asks. Your lips are pouty and swollen as you nod, “Already told you I did.” You say.

It takes everything in Eddie to pull away from you, and he thinks he’s gonna marry you when you reach out for him. Thinks he wants to just whisk you away and live on the side of a secluded mountain or some shit. Thinks he wants you to be the mother of his kids when you smile up at him as he rises to his feet, gazing down at you over the apple of his cheeks as he removes his jeans. You’re so pretty, hair spread out beneath you, tits on full display, tummy fluttering with each drag and push of your breaths. You’re lightly dragging the tip of your finger down your stomach, a teasing glint in your eyes as Eddie throws his hair into the shittest bun known to man, and fuck, you’re dipping your hand between your thighs.

Yeah. This is heaven, and you’re god.

Eddie thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life on his knees worshipping you.

Eddie’s body is warm when he crawls back over you, his body now bare, save for the chains that dangle from his neck. One cross, one guitar pick, one pentagram. They’re cold when they drag up the valley of your chest, and your body perks up with chills.

You slink your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, titling your head up to kiss him as your fingers curl into his messily tied hair. “Give me what I want, Eds.” You softly say against his lips. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

Eddie curses, rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh, and he nods, “Yeah. Fuck. Okay, yeah. Just lay here and look pretty, baby.”

The lasting effects of the three blunts you’d shared with Eddie are swirling through your body, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine as Eddie straddles your hips. He’s the prettiest sight to ever reach your eyes, toned arms, and chest working in tandem as he reaches down to wrap a fist around his cock— and god; you forgot how pretty his cock was. The tip is ruddy and flushed, and your core twists when he angles himself up, and you see the piercing beneath his tip. You definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little detail these past months.

Eddie’s chest is rising and falling quickly and stray pieces of hair cling to his lips when he licks them. You watch with wide, eager eyes as Eddie strokes himself, ringed fingers running against the soft skin of his shaft, pretty hisses curling through his teeth when he thumbs the slit of his tip.

“Quit teasing,” You whine, squirming beneath him. Eddie grins, breathlessly panting as he looks at you, “So impatient.” He mumbles, shifting further up your body until the inside of his thighs press against the side of your tits. You can feel the cool drag of his rings against your sternum, and it sends licks of fire through your core. “My baby’s so impatient, hm?” He taps his cock against your chest, and your frown, fingers digging into his thighs.

“Lucky you’re cute.”

Eddie’s then shuffling and moving around so you’re both comfortably positioned as he kneels over your face, pretty cock glistening above your lips. You open your mouth and let your tongue hang out, ready for Eddie to feed his cock to you, and he chuckles, tapping his swollen tip against your tongue before dragging it to tease you.

It’s good. It’s so good. The taste of him, the feel of him, the pretty noises he makes. You can feel the cold barbell dragging across your tongue with each slow thrust he gives you, and you can’t wait to feel it inside you again. You’ve been dreaming about it for weeks on end now.

He pulls out with a slick pop, tapping his tip against your lips as he hums, “Ready? Gonna give you what you want now.”

You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at a mind-numbing and thigh-clenching rate for just under five minutes before he starts to break. You can feel it in the stutter of his hips, the twitch of his cock on your tongue, the shuddered moans and grunts. You reach up to drag your nails down the soft skin of his stomach, and Eddie whimpers for the second time, and you think it might be your favorite sound— you want more.

He’s pulling out with a curse, squeezing at his tip, and you’re such a fucking tease; you lean forward to kitten lick at his aching tip and hum when he hisses. He shuffles back just enough to lean forward and press a messy kiss to your lips, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please. Want it so bad it hurts.”

“Jesus fuck— turn around.”

You’re shaking, and Eddie’s touch feels like fire as he helps you flip over to lean on all fours. His hands coast up your back and into your hair, and you push your body back into him, ass pressing against his wet cock as you moan when his fingers curl into your hair.

His other hand smooths over your ass, heavily slapping it once before gripping the warm skin as he speaks beside your ear, “Wanna fuck your ass one day, hm? Gonna let me? Say you’ll let me.” “Oh my god,” You roll your eyes with a smile, tipping your head to the side when Eddie kisses your neck before nipping at your ear. You can feel the curve of his smile against your skin, and it makes your chest flutter as he pulls you up to press your back against his chest.

He’s reaching down between you to grasp his cock and paint it against your wet cunt, and you lose your breath. “Come on. Say you’ll let me fuck your pretty ass.” He practically begs.

You moan when he slips his head in, teasing you with what he knows you want. Your head rolls back to rest against his shoulder, and he hums, slinking his other hand up to cup your throat as he continues teasing himself in and out of your pussy.

You smile, lazy and high and blissed out, “No.”

Eddie groans at that, fingers tightening around your throat as he sinks in deeper. “Not even a finger?”

You push your fingers through his hair, his curly strands nothing but a tangled mess within his hair tie. Your legs tremble as you wriggle back into him, but your voice is steady as you speak, “Fuck me first, and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Eddie takes that as a challenge, apparently, because next thing you know, he’s slamming into you and pressing in to the fucking hilt— all big and pierced and toe curling to the point where your moans turn flat, and all you can do is lace your fingers through his that rest on your hip and hold on for dear fucking life.

He’s pressing you face-first into the carpet, making sure your cheek rests against the couch pillow that had been thrown aside earlier. His fingers are clenched around yours, digging into your hip as you whine and moan into his floor, sobbing out his name with each groundbreaking thrust he gives you.

It’s all-consuming; the way Eddie’s fucking you, the filthy words slipping from his mouth, the lingering effects of weed— god, you feel like an exploding star.

Supernova shit or something like that.

Eddie’s cursing and spilling dirty words of encouragement when you come, leaning over to press his chest against your back and coo into your ear.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Keep squeezing me like that, baby. You’re so good.”

“Y’sound so pretty when you’re coming on my cock.”

You’re breathless and quivering, and a pitiful whine slips from you when Eddie pulls out, but you can feel him as he wraps his hand around his cock and finishes off, pretty moans pressed into the skin on the back of your neck. The feeling of his sticky release dripping onto your ass makes you want to go at it again already.

He’s peppering kisses across your neck and shoulders, and your body slumps onto the ground in exhaustion, but you smile when he presses his lips to yours.

“So, was that good enough? Have I been granted access to the holy grail?”

You glare at Eddie from where his chin is hooked over your shoulder. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and you huff. “I’ll tell you what,” You start, shifting and purposely rubbing your ass back against his sensitive cock, smiling when he hisses.

“Make up for the last six months first, and I might be able to cut you a deal.”

“Now you’re just stringing me along.”

You hum, “Oh, like you did with me some months ago?”

Eddie pauses at that, eyes narrowing at you, and you think— fuck, maybe that was too soon. But then a smile cracks across his face, “Touché.”

He sighs and sits up, peeling himself from your sticky skin before gently patting your hip. “Ass up, baby. Got a lot of making up to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”

And you think to yourself, with the scent of Eddie whirling around you and his touch all over you and his pretty voice in your ear, that yeah, you can work through this together. Even if the process will tear you to shreds all over again.

After all, that’s the price of falling for a rockstar, isn’t it?

————

the end.

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a/n: HOLY SHIT GUYS

if you've made it to the end of this long-winded (and incredibly late, I'm so sorry) ending to this story i can not thank you enough. these two have been so fun to write and i don't plan to leave them completely in the dust so they're not gone forever, but thank you so much to everyone who read and shared and commented. this story has allowed me to meet the most beautiful, kind, funny, and loving people I've ever had the pleasure of talking to and that will be my biggest takeaway from this journey🥹

the biggest thank yous to my pretty mutuals who have been here the whole way, ilysm and want to shrink you guys and put you in my pocket <3

anyway, i'll shut up now, i hope i was able to do these two justice with their ending!! i love and appreciate all kinds of feedback, and as always, thank you for reading, ily <3

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn

@mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking @mysteris-things @amazingori @honey-eyed-munson @saintlike78 @eddieslooneymoonie @alexa4040 @yujyujj

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

Text

Stripped

punk!steve x rockstar!eddie x stripper fem!reader

summary: the two men you crushed on in high school, find their way into your club. They’re shocked to see the pastors daughter, the cute shy little church mouse is now stripping, but that’s not who you are anymore. Both men who also crushed on you in high school are eager to see, just how much you’ve changed.

⚠️warning: SMUT 18+MDNI, in this au steve was also apart of the freaks of hawkins high, sorry no king steve here, mmf threesome, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, p in a sex (female receiving), oral (m and f receiving), spit roast, double penetration, dirty talk, hair pulling, spanking, use of sir and master, Eddie and Steve kiss, squirting, cream pies.

A/N: god, this au really has me hot and bothered! (Please remember to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)

photo edits of Steve and Eddie: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

It’s the busiest night of the week at foxy’s cabaret. The clubs pink and red lights accentuated your two piece red faux leather bikini, the bottoms were extra cheeky which only meant one thing; it was gonna be a good money night.

You didn’t go on for another hour, so you made your rounds scoping out possible customers that would like a private dance, you had already done three, all 60 minutes each. So you were ready to go on stage, make your money and go home.

These nights were mostly accompanied by older married men, looking to blow off steam from their wives. Most of them used you as a marriage counselor, spouting off terrible things about their spouses. It made you feel gross to have to listen to grown men, whine about how their wives are “always bitching” because they want their husbands to be home more, while they’re here getting a lap dance by you. But it was all part of the job and you’ve long learned how to de-compartmentalize it all. This was about money and nothing else.

Finally you’re called out on stage, you saunter on in your red pleasers that matched your two piece perfectly. You felt so hot tonight, and all eyes were on you, as you swung your hair and shook your ass on the pole.

Eddie had just gotten home from a big U.S. tour with corroded coffin. Him and his best friend Steve hadn’t seen each other in a year, so what better way for two friends to catch up then with some beers, hot chicks and tits. That being the exact thing Steve said to convince him to come out tonight. Eddie was kind of over the “hot chicks and tits” having seen too many to count at his shows and on the tour bus. That being said, he couldn’t turn down the chance to hang out and drink some beers with his best friend.

Eddie and Steve instantly felt out of place among all the older, rich, suit and tie assholes. They both wore band tees and vests, that show cased patches of their favorite bands. Not to mention the numerous amounts of tattoos they had; both had sleeves on each arm along with neck and face tattoos. They were definitely being thrown dirty looks by the older men, while the strippers were giving them both “fuck me eyes”. They were stopped by a few girls, to ask if they wanted private dances as they fan girled over Eddie Munson being in their club. The boys declined and Eddie kept the small talk to a minimum.

As they moved closer to the stage, your red bikini and shiny hair caught their attention. They both grabbed seats in the front row, eyes glued on your body. Steve couldn’t place it, but he had seen you somewhere. Eddie couldn’t even think as his eyes took in the sight of you, now with your legs wide open as your thighs shook and your pussy lips almost spilled out of the tiny g string.

Once you began crawling to the front of the stage, swinging you hair away from your face, Steve took you in, not your body, you. His eyes widened at the realization.

“Holy shit, dude,” he says, as he nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow.

It took a second for the trance Eddie was under, while watching you to break.

“What, man?” Eddie says, eyes not leaving you as he leans in closer to Steve.

“That’s y/n, you remember y/n? From high school?” He says in disbelief

“No fucking way!” Eddie almost shouts

That catches your attention, you look over at them. Your eyes scanning over their tattoos, clothes and then finally taking in their faces. Your heart rate began to pick up.

Holy shit, that’s Eddie and Steve.

You hadn’t seen them since high school, you had been enamored with both of them. They were considered freaks for the way they dressed and their music taste but you didn’t give a shit. They were always nice to you and um, hello? They were hot as hell.

You bought weed from Eddie once when you were feeling particularly rebellious, you ended up smoking it in the back of his van with them, they were really sweet, and maybe a little flirty, but at that time you were so shy, you had absolutely no confidence to even bring yourself to flirt back. You were not the person you are now, that’s for sure.

Once your set is over, you walk off stage and decide “fuck it, you’re not that little shy church mouse you use to be in high school.” Yes, your father was a pastor, which made what you do for work all the more shocking.

“Eddie? Steve?” You say as you walk up behind them. They’re deep in conversation, leaning in to each other while they whisper, back and forth.

They immediately turn towards you, their cheeks look flushed and they almost look nervous.

“Y/n? Wow, how’ve you been?” Steve breaks the ice first. They stand up and each lean in for an awkward hug, almost like they didn’t want to accidentally touch your exposed skin.

“I’ve been good, how’ve you guys been?” You take in their faces better, now that they’re up close. You haven’t kept up with Eddie and his band much, mostly since you’re always busy working, but your club will occasionally play “Indiana’s very own corroded coffin” as your boss likes to calls them. The last time you officially seen them was at Charlottes grad party, and that was years ago. They’ve gotten even hotter since high school with all those tattoos, piercings and the facial hair. your eyes were shamelessly roaming their bodies.

“Actually would you guys like a private show? It would give us a chance to catch up?” You look from Eddie to Steve, silently hoping they’d take you up on the offer.

“Yeah, yes. Let’s do it.” Steve says

Eddie’s mouth still hangs open, he’s clearly in shock. You figure it’s because of your prude, church girl image you had in high school, being such a big jump from the girl now standing in front of him.

“Cool, follow me.” You lead them to the private rooms, that sit behind heavy red velvet curtains. Their eyes are glued to your ass in that little g string, they’re being hypnotized by the way it jiggles every time you take a step.

“Here we are.” You open the curtain and motion them inside.

The room is small, a black leather couch sits in the middle, along with a couple chairs, underneath lays a shag rug, while just above the couch holds a red neon sign that reads: “girls, girls, girls”

“You guys can take a seat, do you want anything? Bottled water or another beer?” You ask with a polite smile.

Both boys shake their heads no, but thank you for the offer. You decide to take up the seat in between them, it wasn’t very much space, leaving their legs to rub up against yours, but you had no complaints. Their rough jeans against your soft skin, shot a thrilling tingle straight to your core.

“So?” Eddie finally speaks, “how long have you been doing this?” His eyes begin to scan your face, admiring your soft, delicate features. Features he use to spend hours day dreaming, about. His eyes began to move down to your tits, he wanted to be a gentleman, but he didn’t exactly come here for that. So he decided to indulge.

“Oh, um. It’ll be a year next week, actually.”

They both nod their head, taking in your answer. It feels a little awkward, like theirs something they want to say or maybe ask, but then Eddie begins, again—

“Your dad still the pastor?” you could tell he wasn’t trying to make fun, just a curious question. One you get a lot, but more so in a mocking tone.

“Uh, yeah yeah, he is. But we don’t talk, for obvious reasons,” you say as you gesture to the room around you.

“Yeah, I could imagine. So, how does a good girl like you get mixed in with this?” Steve asks, partaking in the curiosity.

“Well, I had to get out of my parents house, ya know? I wanted to live my own life, so I ended up moving in with my roommate brandy, she had been doing this since she was eighteen, she offered to help me get the job. It’s fun, brought me out of my shell a lot, I’m not that little shy girl you remember.” You didn’t mean for the last line to come out so suggestive, but both Eddie and Steve’s eyebrows shot up, in intrigue.

Making Eddie lean into your ear and whisper, “put on a show for us then, baby.” The tone made you shiver with equal amounts, nervousness and excitement. You’ve grown accustomed to your job, rarely ever feeling nervous before a dance, but right now in this moment in front of Eddie and Steve, you felt that timid girl you once knew creep back into your consciousness.

You stand up, doing your best to push it all down. Slowly swaying your hips as gimme all your lovin’ by ZZ Top, plays in the background. You keep eye contact with each of the boys as you do your little routine. Their eyes roaming the expanse of your body, as they begin shifting in their seats, something most customers do when you know you’re doing a good job. The thought of making their cocks hard underneath their pants, gave you the burst of confidence you needed.

You straddle Eddie’s hips first, leaving him to tense in surprise, so you grab his hands that are folded across his chest and place them on your hips, bringing your glossy lips up to his ear, “you can touch me.” You whisper.

As soon as his hands find your skin, he begins rubbing over your hips and thighs, slowly moving down to your ass, taking two handfuls and squeezing before they’re moving back up to your hips. You look over at Steve who’s intently staring at you both, so you take it upon yourself to bring him closer. “Cmon, you can touch me too.” You say with a doe eyed smile. You grab his hand and place it just under Eddie’s.

“Oh yeah? You want both of us to touch you, princess?” Eddie continues to whisper to you. Smug smirk adorning his face as he looks over at his best friend, you couldn’t make out what they were trying to silently tell each other, but it made your stomach flutter. You were excited for this to go where it seemed to be going.

Steve swiftly lifts you by both thighs, placing you on his lap with ease. His hands roaming your body, as he leans in to whisper to you—

“Please tell us, you want this as bad as we do, baby?” Fuck, their voices alone were making you soak through your little panties.

“I-I do, I want you both. I have since that time I smoked weed with you and Eddie in the back of his van.” You giggle, making your hips jerk over Steve’s hard on. The friction made a whine slip out of your mouth.

The boys laughed at the memory, until they heard you, the whine caught their attention. Steve’s face switches to something more cocky

“Mmm, did that feel good, sweet girl?” He grabs your ass and rubs your core over his cock again, this time making you both moan out in tandem.

You bite your lip as you nod, while eddie scoots in closer to you both, he begins playing with your bikini. His calloused fingers rubbing over the swells of your breasts, hardening your nipples that lie under the red fabric. His fingers find the strings in the back, that are holding the bikini together.

“Can I take this off?” He asks softly

“Yes, please.” desperation has now taken over your voice

“Mm, and she still has her manners. Such a good girl.” The praise doing nothing to help the wetness pooling between your thighs.

Once he gets all the strings untied, he slowly lets it fall onto Steve’s lap. Your tits now on full display for them.

“Holy shit.” They say in unison. Eddie’s jaw clenches, while Steve groans. They each take one of your tits in their hand, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. Every little touch shooting straight to your core.

You’ve never done this before, you knew a lot of your co workers would give blow jobs or have quickie’s with their customer for extra cash, but that was never something you were comfortable with doing.

Yet, here you are, engaging in a threesome with two men you were obsessed with in high school, one who is now a big rockstar. The thought makes your head spin.

Steve grabs you by the back of your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts, as he interlocks his lips with yours, you allow his tongue entry while Eddie is moving his neck kisses down to your chest. He takes your nipple into his mouth and lightly sucks, gently teasing you. You whine into Steve’s mouth, breaking the kiss to look down at Eddie, his big brown eyes already looking up at you through his thick lashes. Your furrowed brows and pouty lips were almost enough to do him in, right then and there.

“So eager and impatient.” He growls as he slaps your ass, hard.

It makes you jerk in Steve’s lap, simultaneously moaning at the friction.

“Naughty girl, likes being spanked.” Steve says as he looks to Eddie, mischievous smirks taking over their once flushed faces.

“Now who would’ve guessed that?” Eddie says, making them both laugh. You feel like they’re laughing at you, but you’re too far gone to care.

Steve grabs your chin, turning your head back towards his and Eddie’s, smiles no longer on display, the air became thicker as you swallowed down the excessive saliva now coating your tongue. “You think you can take both of us at the same time, princess?” Your eyes widen at the thought of both of their cocks inside of you, it makes your stomach flip and you eagerly nod as if you’re a child being asked if you’d like some candy.

You’re by no means a virgin, you’ve had your share of one night stands and an occasional boyfriend here and there, but anal is still uncharted territory for you. You can’t lie that the prospect does excite you though, you would do just about anything they asked of you right now.

“Words, sweet girl. You need to use your words with sir and master.” Fuck

“Yes sir, yes master.” You said wantonly

“Good girl.” Eddie now had his hand wrapped around your neck, lightly squeezing

“This is what’s gonna happen.” Eddie starts “you’re going to lay down on this couch, while me and Steve get you ready for our cocks, how’s that sound, pretty baby?” His words are filthy, but his tone and smile are so soft, you could swear you were transported back to high school, they were making you fall in love all over again.

Love? No, no way. Don’t be crazy

“Yes, sir.” You nod, getting up from Steve’s lap

“Fuck, she’s so obedient.” Steve says to Eddie, like he’s enamored by you. Can’t believe you’re real.

They stand up, allowing you to lie down on the squeaky, old, black leather couch. As you lay, body flush against the cushions, you open your legs wide for the boys as they take in every curve, burning it into memory. Steve starts by taking off your stilettos, placing gentle kisses at the top of your foot, moving up to your calf and over your knee, stopping in the middle of your thigh, while Eddie palms himself through his jeans, admiring the scene in front of him.

Surprisingly, this is something Steve and Eddie talked about quit a few times in high school, they both wanted you. The time they smoked with you in the van, they were going to make a move but decided they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you were so shy and timid but Eddie couldn’t deny that little shy demeanor you had really got him going. They both thought you were beautiful, sweet and cute as fucking button.

They were disappointed after you all graduated and they still didn’t make their move, even at Charlottes grad party, but you had been on the arm of Chip Reynolds. Coincidentally, you also lost your virginity to him that night, after one too many shots.

“Can I take these off, baby?” Steve hooks his index fingers inside the red material of your g string, but looks up for your answer before he proceeds. You nod your head, while you bite down on your lip, granting him access by lifting your hips. The room around you feels hot, as you hear; looks that kill by Motley Crue booming through the club speakers.

Before Steve widens your legs, Eddie walks around you and Steve and takes a seat on the couch, by your feet. Not wanting to miss the view, they’ve been dreaming about for years.

“Open those pretty legs for us, baby.” Eddie says as his fingers walk up your leg, you gasp when you feel the spine tingling sensation shoot through you. You want to squeeze your legs together for some kind of relief of friction, but you know better. So instead you hike your legs up, like you’ve done so many nights before, for men who don’t truly see you, you’re a sex worker to them, someone there to appease their needs. You begin to wonder if that’s how Eddie and Steve see you now, but you can’t dwell on that thought.

You’re now bare and on full display for them, your juices creating a glistening coat on the outside of your well trimmed pussy. Steve and Eddie audibly groan at the sight, insecurity began creeping up as they gawked, but you didn’t know they were equally losing their restraint.

Steve’s the first to trail his hands towards your sex, slow and agonizing. The tips of his fingers barely grazing your skin, just enough to leave goosebumps in their wake. When he finally gets to where you’re dying to be touched, he starts by rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your slit, he finds your clit and begins slowly drawing small circles. They take in every expression and whine you give them, eating it up like the only sustenance left on earth.

“That feels so good, Steve.” Your mouth falls open as the pressure of his fingers on your clit, pick up. Finally giving you the right amount of friction you’ve been begging for.

Eddie starts taking his cock out of the confines of his black jeans, the tightness being too much for him to handle. As you hear the zipper you lift your head up, not wanting to miss anything. Once you’re met with Eddie’s cock, your eyes widen and your jaw drops, it’s fucking beautiful —

“Well thank you, pretty girl.” Eddie snorts

Fuck, you’re so far gone, you thought you said that to yourself.

But it is, so beautiful. About seven and a half inches, thick and veiny, the spongy heads an angry throbbing red, precum beading at the tip.

“See, told you, you had a nice cock, Munson.” Steve says, before sending you a wink. That mischievous smile making its comeback. The insinuation making your pussy pulse, as more wetness continues to glaze your outer lips.

Eddies cheeks, blooming a pretty rosy pink at Steve’s words. You could tell he was uncomfortable diving in deeper to the depths of what was said, and you didn’t want to push it, no matter how curious they left you.

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?” Eddie now asks, leaning in closer to your thighs, while he continues stroking his heavy cock.

“Yes, master.” You say, trying not to sound as eager as you felt.

Steve stands up and begins fiddling with the button of his red and black plaid pants, riddled with different patches, some you’re able to make out: circle jerks, misfits, buzzcocks and minor threat to name a few. They look interesting, maybe you’ll remember to check their tapes out whenever you go to your local record store.

Your thoughts quickly being broken by Eddie’s tongue swiping over your clit, making you moan out a “oh my god!” In surprise

Steve’s cock springs out, and bobs in the air. A little bigger than Eddie’s but not by much, the tip matching his best friends; angry and red. They’re both fucking beautiful, and you want them inside you so bad.

Steve starts fisting his cock as he walks up towards your face, “Aw, no complement for my cock, baby?” Steve mockingly coos

“You’re both beautiful, you and your cocks. Want them so bad.” You moan, as your hips buck up towards Eddie’s tongue, which is now fucking your hole, before moving back up to circle your clit.

“Mmm, that’s better, sweet girl. Now open wide for me, kay?” Steve says as he begins tapping his cock against your lips. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, Steve audibly growls at your obedience before he’s plunging it into your mouth, he grabs a fistful if your hair working you up and down on him, just the way he likes it. Meanwhile Eddie, takes it upon himself to insert two fingers into your wet weeping hole, making you moan around Steve, the vibrations making his cock twitch, deep in your throat.

Eddie’s tongue continues lapping up your juices as Steve is fucking your throat, the whole scene making euphoria pass over you, as if you were high off the best drug. Their cocks were your drug, and they were giving you the perfect high. Eddie’s fingers hit that spot inside of you, that always has you gushing. You scream out, as he’s relentlessly hitting it. Both boys, slowly becoming more and more aggressive. But you did not mind, in the slightest.

Your muscles start tensing and your legs start shaking, as your pussy spasms around two of Eddie’s heavily ringed fingers.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight baby, I can’t wait to fuck you. Mmm, Cum for us, pretty girl.”

Eddie’s ministrations speed up, making your toes curl.

You release Steve’s cock with a pop, as you begin moaning and screaming.

“I’m cu-cumming, fuck don’t stop, master please!” Eddie’s fingers speed up, as wet squelching fills the room. You cum with a splash of wetness to Eddie’s chin and neck, making him growl.

“Fuck, you’re a squirter? Goddammit, you’re fucking perfect.” He’s so ready to be inside you, that he’s willing to spill all his dirty secrets and the feelings he’s harbored for you throughout the years.

Steve is on the other side losing his shit over the way you’re sucking his dick and the fact that you just squirted all over his best friends face. They needed to fuck you, want was out the window.

Eddie gets up from his laying position between your thighs, he brings the back of his hand to wipe the juices that he wasn’t able to lick away, while Steve pulls you off of his cock and back up onto your feet.

Steve sits down on the couch first, before his fingers are pressing into your hips and he’s guiding you to straddle his naked lap, having completely removed his clothes before sitting down. Once fully seated he takes his cock in his hand giving it a few strokes before he looks at you with eyes that could make you puddle right there on the floor.

“You ready, sweet thing?” He asks while he beams up at you, awaiting your answer but also admiring your beauty while trying not to blow his load at the fact that the girl he spent so much time admiring from a far when he was a teenager, is now seated on his lap, naked.

“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” Your words coming out so sugary sweet, making his head drop to the back of the couch, as he does his best to pull it together. He’s never had this problem before, you were completely ruining him, making him feel ways he hasn’t for any other girl.

He lifts his head back up, looking you in the eyes as he takes your chin between his fingers, his other hand still stroking himself. “You’re such a good fucking girl, you know that?” He says with a smirk

Eddie’s off to the side, watching the whole display closely. “She is such a good girl? Isn’t she Harrington? I think it’s time we reward her with both of our cocks. How does that sound, princess?” You moan, while your hips grind down on to Steve’s precum coated cock.

“Yes, please. I need sir and masters cock inside me.” If anyone from your congregation could see you now, they’d think you’d been possessed by some sort of sex demon, the way you were moaning, groaning and writhing about on top of Steve’s lap, you even felt like it in that moment.

Steve finally breeches your soaked hole, making him shudder beneath you. As you begin sinking down on to his cock, inch by delicious inch, Eddie comes and sits on the back of the couch where Steve’s head is resting, he’s stroking himself with the most devious smirk, pupils blown black from lust. If you were being possessed it would be Eddie’s doing.

“Get me nice and wet, baby. Need to be able to slip into your asshole with ease, okay? The sloppier the better.” He winks, while you quickly obey. Opening your mouth and allowing yourself to sink down on Eddie and Steve, simultaneously.

Steve grabs the globes of your ass and starts his own pace while helping you bounce on his aching cock. You’re gagging on Eddie, tears rolling down your cheeks as spit falls from your mouth and down onto the leather of the couch cushions. Both boys eyes are rolling back into their heads, they’re in fucking heaven. In that moment they both have the same thought— they never want to let you go.

Eddie pulls you off as he wipes up the remaining spit hanging from your chin, bringing it down to stroke his already glistening cock, and rubbing the wetness over his balls before he’s behind you, opening up your ass cheeks and using his spit to rub his middle finger over your puckered hole. “I’m gonna put my fingers in first and loosen you up, a’right?” You look back at him, eyes all doe like, lips swollen and wet from his cock. Fuck, you were a captivating portrait of beauty, if he’s ever seen one.

“Yes, master. Please,” broke him out of his thoughts as he breeched your virgin hole with the tip of his finger, making you groan in pain and pleasure. Finally, his finger is fully seated in you to the second knuckle, while Steve begins rubbing your clit as he still fucks into you, “you’re doing so good pretty baby, so good for us.” Steve whispers into your ear, as Eddie’s finger starts moving faster in and out, you can’t contain the screams that are falling from your mouth. Steve continues— “I know baby, I know. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise you, it’ll start to feel so fucking good, okay? You’re gonna love it by the time he’s done.” His words making you bounce back on his cock and Eddie’s finger. “That’s it, princess. Fuck my finger.” Eddie growls.

“I’m gonna put a second one in, okay?” Eddie says as he slips the second one in with the first, this time it goes in smoother, sinking to his tattooed knuckles. “Oh, fuck-” Steve cuts of your moans by bringing his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss, of tongues and spit, moaning into each others mouths as you get both your holes filled.

Once Eddie thinks your ready, he gets up from his kneeling position, holding out his hand under your chin as he demands you to spit, then doing the same to Steve. He rubs the mixed spit glob onto his cock for extra lube, he doesn’t want this to hurt you, he wants to make it as pleasurable as possible. Once it’s to his liking he lines his red tip up with your pink throbbing hole, he pushes in and fuck, it’s an indescribable feeling, but it’s so good.

“Oh, fuuuck!” Eddie groans, pushing even deeper inside you. “You’re so tight baby, fuck I’m not gonna last long, I’m just letting you both know that now.” He chuckles making you and Steve laugh, too. “I’m so close, been edging myself this whole time.” Steve says

Finally, Eddie is bottomed out inside of you, grabbing your hips but not moving until you give him the okay. “Just let me know when you’re ready, sweet girl.” — “I’m ready, please eddie, I’m ready.” He grabs a handful of your hair and yanks it back until you’re looking at him upside down. “It’s master, remember? I’ll let that one slide since you have two cocks inside you and you’re too fucked dumb, to think. But, next time I will punish you, do you understand?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, master. I’m sorry.” You want to cry, not for being reprimanded but from the sheer pleasure of it all. “That’s my good girl,” he says leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

They both start pounding into you, it’s almost too much but you wouldn’t dare ask them to stop, not when the knot in your stomach is tightening and you can feel yourself reaching that ultimate high.

“Fuck, Steve I can feel your cock hitting mine.” Eddie growls, making Steve clench is jaw and throw his head back. “Mm, you like being able to feel my cock inside her, big boy?” Steve nods his head, while moaning out expletive after expletive.

Them talking dirty to each other while inside you, was about to throw you over the edge, along with their hands that wouldn’t stop rubbing and grabbing at your skin, taking handfuls of whatever they could.

You lean forward and put your head against Steve’s shoulder, while they continue to fuck you, the slight shift giving them better access to your holes, but also bringing Eddie and Steve’s faces closer together. Eddie smiles and winks at Steve as their cocks moved in and out in unison, meanwhile Steve grabs Eddie’s hair and smashes their lips together in a heated kiss. The smacking of their lips brings your attention back to them. It was so insanely hot, making you clench tightly around both boys, Steve pulls away first, “fuck, I think she likes that. You like watching me and Eddie kiss, angel?” Steve says in a mocking tone, all you can do is nod your head, as your high hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh my fuck, im cumming, holy shit.” You wail as you squirt all over Steve’s cock and lower stomach. Steve couldn’t hold it any longer, your moans and the splash he felt against his lower half, made him lose it. “I’m cumming, fuck where do I-” he says before you cut him off. “Inside, both of you, I want it inside please!” You whimper

Eddie takes your chin in his hand, turning your face towards his and kissing you deep and passionately as he follows right behind Steve, both boys empty themselves inside your tight, clenching holes. You continue milking them dry until Eddie pulls out slowly, followed shortly by Steve.

Eddie lifts you up and softly put you down so that you’re seated on the couch as he falls down on the cushion beside you.

“Wow.” You three said in unison, making you all laugh out hysterically.

Once the laughing stops, you’re all met with comfortable silence as the background noise from the club penetrates your ears, and you’re brought back to your surroundings.

Then the silence is broken as Steve asks, “So, what are you doing this weekend?”

Thank you for reading!

•taglist•

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unsolved-duvall · 1 year

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨) - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

part one | part two

older rockstar!eddie x reader

summary eddie munson was an asshole, you knew that now. and the truth was you hated him, so much so that you couldn't stop thinking about him.

eddie munson hated himself, and he couldn't stop thinking about you. (16.3k)

warnings 18+ minors dni, age gap (reader is 22, eddie is 40), angst, asshole eddie, references to abuse, drinking (reader gets drunk), reader hurts herself (not intentionally!), very brief mention of blood, smut, making out, oral sex, penetrative sex, fingering, an overuse of nicknames. if i have missed anything please politely let me know <3

Seven Months Later.

There’s this theory called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. It’s the scientific explanation for why you start to notice something, or someone more when your awareness of them increases.

It’s an illusion. Your brain creates a cognitive bias. The truth is that thing was there all along. You just never cared enough to notice it before.

Like Eddie fucking Munson.

The fall air was heavy with a bitter chill as it slinked in through your half-open window. You were barely conscious, your body still heavy with sleep, but you felt the cold wind embrace you in an unwelcome hug and you pulled your thick comforter over your head in a bid to escape it.

You weren’t sure what time it was, your mind hazy as memories of last night came flooding back to you. You attempted to push them to the back of your mind, you didn’t need the self-loathing to begin already, you could get to that after you had managed to at least eat breakfast.

Your arms felt heavy as you lifted them, stretching them above you. Your movements caused your comforter to fall around you, your eyes squinted to adjust to the harsh light that bled through the curtains. They were second-hand and made from really sheer material, they almost made no difference. But you kept them up anyway; you were a young woman living in a city by yourself, so you couldn’t afford to lose the small amount of privacy they granted you.

Dragging your limp body out of bed (fuck you, college) you made your way over to your closet, grabbing the first crumpled-up clothes you saw and throwing them on, not bothering to even look at what you were now wearing.

And no, you didn’t shower, and yes you knew you should have. But quite frankly, you barely had the energy to get out of bed and go to class; asking you to shower and wash your hair was asking far too much from you.

You had two exams today and a shift at the diner afterwards. None of which you were particularly looking forward to, but there wasn’t a lot you could do about that now except grin and bear it.

Which is what you did. It was what you always did.

As you stepped out of your apartment complex you felt the frost-bitten wind caress your face. You swore under your breath, pulling your coat tighter around you in a feeble attempt to warm yourself up.

Looking up your eyes landed on the obnoxiously large billboard that sat opposite your building. And on it, of course, was none other than Corroded Coffin, with Eddie sitting front and centre. Promotion for their upcoming tour.

You stared at it for far too long to be considered a passing glance. And just before you turned on your heel to walk to class you pulled a cold hand out of your pockets and pointedly gave it the middle finger.

Fuck you, universe.

“I’ll tell you what you can do Marianne, you can shove your ideas and fuck-”

“Okay, you’re done” John slammed his hands down on the table in front of him, pushing his chair back as he got up and all but manhandled Eddie, pulling him out before he could add more fuel to the fire, “Get out, come on. Jesus fucking Christ-”

It was early. The sun could have only just risen when he woke up and he could hear the fucking birds chirping kind of early.

It was 9 AM.

He could easily have stopped John from dragging him out of the meeting room like a petulant child, but that would take energy he simply didn’t have. And the energy he did have he was more than happy to use on shouting at people who, in his humble opinion, were being pretty fucking stupid for it being the crack of dawn.

9 AM.

So instead he raised his calloused hands in mock defeat as he let John lead him down the wide corridor, a warning hand on his shoulder, and into another room. The room was identical to the one he had just been in; but there was no one in there, which made it much preferable to him.

The harsh morning light beamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the exterior wall. The wall adjoining the room to the corridor was also made entirely of glass. Eddie leant his body weight against it, running his hands over his face as John shut the door behind them. Eddie’s eyes flicked to him briefly and he saw his body tense. He knew that he’d pissed him off. But he didn’t care, these moments were second nature to the both of them by now.

None of them dared speak first. Both of them quietly assessed the other, figuring out how explosive this was about to get.

Very. If the past was any indication.

Eddie being, well - Eddie, pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, his hands fumbling around his many pockets trying to remember where he had last put his lighter.

“You can’t smoke in here.”

John’s curt voice cut through the thick tension clouding the room. Eddie’s eyes snapped to Johns, fucking insufferable bastard, and his hands halted their searching of his pockets.

“If I don’t smoke I’ll turn into an asshole” Eddie bit out the words, a sarcastic smile painting his face.

“Ah, so no different than usual then? Put the cigarette down and stop being a dick,” John walked over to the meeting table and pulled out a flimsy chair, sitting down with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m tired of playing your fucking father.”

“You’re barely five years older than me.” Eddie’s voice was harsh as he snapped back at John, but his face was heavy with some emotion that even John couldn’t place. He knew bringing up Eddie’s father was a bad idea. He only pulled out that card when he was desperate.

“Exactly. I have two kids at home. You’re old enough to be their father, so don’t make me speak to you the way I speak to them. Shit, they’re better behaved than you are.”

Anyone who knew John knew that he really did care for Eddie. He treated him like a brother, but Eddie didn’t yet return the same sentiment. John figured he probably never would, and he was okay with that.

He knew Eddie’s history. All of it. He understood why Eddie was the way he was. He just wished he could help him. He also knew that if he told Eddie this, he would most likely leave with a black eye if he dared show any ounce of pity for him.

Eddie liked to be treated a certain way. Harsh words shared between people on the most basic level. It made him feel safe. If he never connected with anyone he couldn’t hurt them.

Or be hurt when they left him.

So John never mentioned any of what he knew. But Eddie knew that he was aware of his past, and he hadn’t abandoned him yet, so that was good enough for him.

“You keep pulling shit like this and the label will drop you. It’s as simple as that.”

Eddie scoffed, fiddling with the still unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’d like to see them try.”

“Okay, listen to me” John leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, feet planted as if he was ready for a fight any minute. “You leave to go on tour in two hours—your first show is tomorrow. Figure your shit out. Drop the asshole facade you’re so desperately trying to hide behind,”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he feared if he did he would only regret it. He simply stayed leaning against the wall, not looking away from John once. His stare was cold, calculated.

“You’re not better than anyone in that room. No matter what the girls you’re fucking every night might be saying to you.”

Eddie held his stare, a smirk pulling at his mouth.

“They don’t usually say a lot actually. It’s hard when they're being fucked dumb, poor things can barely string a sentence together when we’re done”

Eddie was looking for a reaction. He wanted a fight, needed a fight.

John bit his tongue, biting back the words he knew Eddie was waiting to hear. He wanted Eddie to tell him he was an ass. That he was pathetic. That he deserved everything that had happened to him.

He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“What? Do you not get that sort of reaction from your wife after you’ve fucked her? That’s poor show John, I can teach you a few things if you need me to?” Eddie’s venomous tone hit exactly where he intended it to, he could tell by the way John clenched his jaw, “Or I could just fuck her for you.”

“What the fuck’s happened to you, Eddie?” His voice was suddenly soft, concerned. Eddie hated it. “Is this all about that girl, because-”

“Fuck off,” Eddie said with a deafening calm, “I’m going for a smoke.”

And with that Eddie turned and left the room, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the empty corridor.

“You better not miss the flight later! You can’t fuck up everyone else’s life like you’re doing to your own!” John sighed as the words landed on deaf ears, Eddie already too far gone to pay any attention to him.

It was going to be a long long tour.

Carpe Diem. That was a thing people said right? Well, you were here to tell them that was bullshit.

Seize the day. Whatever that meant - it was certainly not meant for broke college students who had recently been fucked over by a world-famous rockstar, had almost certainly just failed their final exams and now had to endure a seven-hour shift at a diner.

No, that saying was intended for people who already had their life together. Middle-aged moms living in the suburbs with their two children and a perfect husband. Who woke up each morning and decided between going to a new yoga class or a coffee morning with their book club girlfriends.

Those were the type of people Carpe Diem was meant for.

Not you.

You had managed to get caught in the rain on your way to your shift. The cold rain soaking through your clothes and onto your skin enhanced every emotion you were already feeling. The cold wind was biting as you swerved through the bustling crowd on the sidewalk. It was nearing 10 PM, and you wouldn’t be home until the early hours of the morning; you rarely picked up night shifts. You had been working there for almost three years and you could count on one hand the number of times you had worked a night shift. But right now you needed the money, so when the shift was offered to you, who were you to turn it down?

Once you had finally arrived you had almost immediately snapped at your manager when you walked through the heavy doors of the diner; she had made some innocent joke about how you would have been drier if you had swum here.

She quickly realised you weren’t in the mood for jokes and told you she had a change of clothes in the back you could borrow. You nodded your head and forced an appreciative smile onto your face. You liked your manager, she was maybe a decade older than you, give or take, and she always made sure the chefs cooked you some food during a long shift.

You ignored everyone else, one chef and two other waitresses who would be leaving soon, as you made your way to the staff room at the back of the diner, heading straight to your manager's locker and grabbing the clothes she had folded and placed on the top shelf.

You threw on the jeans but hesitated as you unfolded the all too familiar shirt. You recognised the design instantly and you felt a lump form in your throat. You had the exact same shirt at home, although yours was lying abandoned in the back of your closet, and you had been content never to see, let alone wear it, again.

The worn-out corroded coffin logo stared back at you.

Well fuck.

It had taken you all of two seconds to decide that you would rather spend your night in a half-soaked t-shirt instead. When your manager had seen you walk back out, apron tied around your waist and a damp t-shirt clinging to you, she hadn’t questioned it. Instead, she pointed to your area for the night and told you it shouldn’t be too busy, she smiled a genuine smile and rubbed your back, like a caring mom, before leaving you to it. You could tell by the look of concern she tried to hide that she knew something was wrong. You seemed tense, which you never were.

You hadn’t told anyone what had happened. You weren’t the first girl to be fucked over by Eddie and you certainly wouldn’t be the last. You felt ridiculous for being so hung up on what had happened.

But there was just something about him. And you hated him for it.

You saw pieces of him everywhere you went. Heard his voice in every store or cafe you went into, and every time it cut into you a little bit deeper than the last. He had left his mark on you and you had no idea how to get rid of it. The truth was you weren’t sure you wanted to. He made you feel safe. Which was insane given his reputation, but every time he looked at you it felt like a summer breeze wrapped itself around you. He smiled at you and it felt like running into the ocean for the first time on holiday. Like nothing could hurt you as long as he was there.

But then he had been the one to hurt you, so fuck him, right?

Yeah. Fuck him. You had tables to serve, people to pretend to like, and a myriad of awful attempts at flirting to politely ignore for the next… seven hours.

It was going to be a long long night.

The truth was Eddie had tried relentlessly to avoid coming back here. To this city.

To you.

But it hadn’t worked. His team had asked him multiple times why exactly he was so adamant about avoiding this place, but hell would have to open up and drag him down there before he would tell anyone it was because of you.

You had fucked him up more than anyone ever had. And he had spent one night with you.

He barely knew anything about you. He knew your name, and he knew how old you were. He also knew what you sounded like when you came.

He hadn’t told anyone about you. John knew, of course. But every time he would try to mention ‘that girl’ to Eddie he would shoot him a look that said “I am not above punching you in the face” and that was that.

So now here he was. In the one city on earth, he would have happily avoided for the rest of his godforsaken life-

“Do you want to go straight to the hotel? I already made sure the security stopped people hanging around outside, so you don’t have to worry about that.” John’s voice sounded from beside Eddie, although he was barely listening.

The moment the plane landed he felt his heart race. Which was stupid, because as far as he knew you didn’t actually live here. You might have been here on holiday or just came for the concert.

Fuck he hopes you didn’t come just for him.

“You know tour used to be fun, we used to do shit. Get fucked up.” Eddie didn’t turn to look at John whilst he spoke, choosing instead to smoke a cigarette out of the barely open window. The torrent of rain outside still managed to slip in through the open space, leaving raindrops to settle on Eddie’s hair that fell around his shoulders.

Eddie had a habit of avoiding other people’s questions, even simple ones. John had picked up on that fact rather fast. It was best to let Eddie lead the conversation, so that’s what he did.

“I remember,” John replied, staring straight ahead from the back seat, watching the traffic they were attempting to drive through, “That was ten years ago, things change, you know that.”

Eddie did know that. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

When Eddie didn’t bother to respond John cautiously said “they all have families now, Eddie. A wife and kids. Can you blame them for not wanting to get high every night and fuck up a hotel room?”

Eddie clenched his jaw, flicking the burnt-out cigarette out of the window and onto the rain-soaked road, “You have a wife and kids, why are you here with me? Not with them, with your perfect little picket-fence family, huh?”

“Because I’m working. I don’t spend time with you out of the goodness of my heart, you know. You pay me to be here, to make sure some insane fan doesn’t stalk you or some shit.” John tried to sound lighthearted, adding some humour to his all-too-true words. But it didn’t help.

Eddie once again went quiet, whispering something under his breath about it all being “fucking bullshit” but that was it. He hadn’t apologised to John about that morning, the comment about his wife. He couldn’t bring himself to admit he was sorry. And he knew that made him the asshole everyone said he was, but he had been wearing that badge of honour for a long time, he’d be damned if he let it bother him now. Maybe he just was an asshole.

“Do I assume you do just want to go straight to the hotel?” John asked again, he knew not to push Eddie but he really needed to let the poor driver know where he was taking them. Although with the traffic at a standstill, they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“No” Eddie’s blunt response would have been enough to have most people stop talking to him.

“Well, where do you wanna go then? I’m not driving around with you all fuckin’ night I’ll tell you that for nothing.” Eddie finally turned in his seat to look at John, although his gaze seemed to be focused on the window behind him instead, “It’s gone midnight, you may be a rockstar but I’m old. I need to sleep.”

“Here. I’m hungry.”

John turned, confusion evident as he furrowed his eyebrows and breathed out a barely audible “what?”. The car had stopped outside a diner, open twenty-four hours, based on the worn-out sign hanging in the window. There was no one inside, except a waitress. This was probably the only place in the city Eddie could go to without being spotted and harassed.

“Are you serious? They have room service at the hotel and-”

“I fucking said I wanna eat here, is that so hard to understand?” Eddie snapped, his hands fiddling with the bracelets and pieces of fabric he had tied around his left wrist. “I- can we just get out here, I’m fuckin’ starving”

“Well if you would have eaten on the plane instead of insulting the food-”

“That shit looked like I could have made it. Would you eat my cooking, John?”

“You couldn’t pay me enough.”

“Exactly.” Eddie took off his seatbelt and waved his hands toward the door on John’s side “let’s go.”

John reluctantly moved to open the door, stepping out into the cold rain. Eddie followed suit, taking in his surroundings as he waited for John to tell the driver something, probably asking him to come back in an hour.

The bell hanging over the door rang out into the quietness of the diner as they both walked in, glad to be out of the rain for the brief time they were in it. It was quiet, save for the soft hum of a radio playing behind the counter. A woman stood behind it, her back turned and windswept hair flowing over her shoulders, an apron tied around her waist. Eddie could see that her shirt was damp and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through him as he realised she must have gotten caught in the downpour on her way here. Eddie had never had to work a service job before, but he knew damn well if he did and his clothes were soaked through before he had even started, he would have gone home. No questions asked.

He made a mental note to try and be nice to her. He never did that, but he promised himself he would at least try.

John hesitated a minute before walking over to an empty booth and sitting himself down, his eyes trained on the girl behind the counter.

Eddie sat opposite him, stretching his legs out under the table and picking up the menu that was left on the table. He decided on the first thing he saw and threw the menu back down, sliding it over to John, but he still wasn’t looking anywhere except at the waitress behind the counter.

“What’s the matter with you?” Eddie asked quizzically. John’s whole body language had changed the minute they had walked in. Sure, it wasn’t the most high-end place they had ever eaten, but Eddie had never taken him for a snob.

“Okay, you’ve got about ten seconds to decide if you want to just get up and leave.”

“What-”

“Too late,” John said suddenly, his eyes darting back to Eddie “don’t be an asshole.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what the fuck was he talking about? He looked around to see that the waitress had turned, now facing both of them.

And she was looking straight at Eddie.

You were looking straight at Eddie.

There are certain feelings that you’ve never been able to explain to people. You’ve never been particularly good at expressing how you feel because you’ve rarely been able to understand or process your own emotions.

But as you stood in the diner, at 12:46 AM, and saw Eddie sitting across from you. You knew exactly how you felt.

You felt angry.

You felt heartbroken.

You felt confused.

You felt the happiest you had felt in seven months.

And then you felt the world fall out from underneath your feet.

You felt like Eddie was about to rip your heart out all over again.

You hadn’t moved. Shit. What the fuck were you meant to do? Eddie hadn’t moved either. But John had, and he was walking right towards you.

“Hey,” he was tense, you could tell. “Listen, I don’t know what thoughts are running through your head right now. But, I can imagine at least one of them is that you’d like to punch him square in his face, right?” John tilted his head to the side, trying to gauge your reaction. You still hadn’t moved. You weren’t totally sure you were breathing.

“I’m gonna trust that you won’t do that, if I’ve been able to hold off from smacking him every day for the past seven months I’m sure you can too.”

John laughed awkwardly and cleared his throat. Something told you he wasn’t joking.

“Now, there’s a bar over there.” He pointed past you, out of the window, towards the dive bar sitting directly across from the diner “And even though I can’t drink whilst I’m working. I am going to go there anyway. I’ll be gone twenty minutes. Talk to him. Ignore him. Throw him out of here, for all I care. Do whatever you’ve gotta do.”

And with that John turned and walked out of the diner. The sounds of the city filled the diner as the door swung open and shut again. And then it was just you. And him.

And those two old guys sat at a table in the corner. Ignore them.

You shifted your weight on your feet, you wanted to talk to him. Needed to talk to him.

Your feet had carried you over to his booth before you had realised what you were doing. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, and for a second you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but then-

“John ran out of here as quick as he fucking could, didn’t he?” Eddie… laughed? Genuinely laughed as he said it, a honey-thick smile covering his face.

“Yeah, he basically floored it to the bar over there” you pointed awkwardly, even Eddie was sitting with his back to the window, and couldn’t see. He smiled again anyway, dropping his gaze from you to stare at his hands that were resting on the table.

When you didn’t smile back you saw his whole body tense up. What did he expect from you here? To take him to the back room and fuck him?

“Can you sit down, and talk for a minute, maybe?”

“I’m working if you hadn’t already noticed.” You responded, voice slightly harsher than you meant for it to sound.

“I know- shit, I know. I didn’t mean that you weren't, I just meant,” he was stumbling over every other word, and you know it should have given you some satisfaction to see him like this. To realise that maybe you weren’t the only one who came out of this whole thing scorned. But you felt sorry for him, his eyes were heavy with something sad. His usual cocky facade was nowhere to be seen.

“I can sit for a while, it’s okay.” You hated how soft your voice went, Eddie heard it too, he bit back a smirk and sat up a bit straighter as you sat down across from him.

“Your shirt is wet,” Eddie said, making a vague gesture with his hand. It was still wet, you guessed, although it was much drier than it had been. “They really made you work in wet clothes? They had nothing for you to wear. You must be cold, that’s all.”

“My manager gave me some clothes to wear, yeah. I just kept my top because I didn’t feel like wearing hers.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side, a silent question as to why.

Well, fuck it. “She’s a big fan of yours. I didn’t want to walk around in a Corroded Coffin top all night so, here I am.”

There it was. He had been waiting for it. The moment he couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“Y/N I’m-”

You cut him off, you weren’t ready to hear whatever sorry excuse he pulled out of his ass. “Sorry? An asshole? A bastard? Take your pick, seriously.” Eddie watched you, his face blank as he took in every word you said.

You saw his jaw clench. The same way it had when he had left you alone in that hotel room.

“You want me to say sorry? For what, exactly?” You physically flinched at his words, the harshness of them. That honey-thick smile was nowhere to be seen, his eyes had gone distant.

“You want an apology because I treated you the same way I treat every other girl I fuck? Listen, sweetheart, you knew what the deal was from the start, don’t act like some fucking innocent party in all of this.” You felt the breath go from your lungs, he had leaned forward as was speaking to you, leaning on his forearms as he broke your heart again.

“You’re telling me you didn’t go around telling anyone who would listen that we had fucked?” Eddie spat at you.

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was quiet but definite. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

Eddie paused for a moment, something flashed across his face. Relief? Confusion? Anger? You truly couldn’t tell. You weren’t sure he could either. “Maybe you should have. Gossip tabloids will pay a lot of money for shit like that” he turned his head, looking away from you. You wanted to get up and walk away. Shout at him. Tell him how much he had hurt you.

“You asked me to sit down so you could insult me, was that it?” you asked him, “well you’ve done that so can I go now?”

“What did you think I was going to do? Profess my undying love for you? Tell you I tracked you down just so I could tell you how sorry I was?” Eddie shot back, he had built that wall back up around himself the minute you had snapped at him. He couldn’t bring himself back from that ledge, no matter how much he wanted to. And he so desperately wanted to.

Because whenever his eyes landed on yours felt his heart break, he truly believed you held the whole world in your eyes, a world he longed to be a part of.

“I thought you could be a decent fucking human being, Eddie.” Hearing you say his name made him feel like he was drowning. Your voice dropped as you decided you needed to get it out of your system. “I thought you would have some respect for me. Do you know how fucked up I’ve been over this? I fucking cried over you.”

Eddie didn’t try to interrupt, he didn’t have any reaction to what you had just said. You could almost believe he wasn’t listening to a word of what you were saying.

He was.

“I get it, okay. This is what you do. Fine. Good for you, if you’re happy like this then please don’t let me, or anyone else, stop you.” You weren’t sure where your confidence had come from, but you felt like this would be the only time he would be sat in front of you again. “I didn’t want to like you. I thought you would be a complete asshole, and I was fine with that.”

Your gaze dropped from his face to his hands, where he was pulling at the jewellery he had on his left wrist. His hands gave away everything he wasn’t saying, and you didn’t think he was even aware of how much he was giving away. A couple of seconds later his hands stopped moving, and he moved them off the table, onto his lap. He hadn’t realised you were watching him so closely. He hated that.

“Eddie, listen to me, I liked you. I felt safe with you” Eddie’s eyes scanned your whole face as you spoke, almost as if he was looking for any proof you were lying. You spoke slowly, determined for him to really hear you, and understand what you were saying. “You’re a good person, Eddie. You are not what everyone says you are. Maybe you try to be that guy, but you’re not. You care about other people, but I don’t think you care about yourself.”

Eddie’s face had softened, he swallowed and shook his head, barely. But you saw him do it, nevertheless.

“I don’t know you, I know that. But I think you want to be happy, you want to be a good person. But you can’t let yourself. I’m not saying this because I want you to fall in love with me, or some shit. But I hope one day you will fall in love with someone. And I hope you’ll let yourself love them.”

All of a sudden it was too quiet. You hadn’t even noticed that the two older gentlemen who had been in the diner had left. A twenty-dollar bill was left on the table. The radio played dimly in the background, the rain clattered against the windows and roof. The muffled sounds of the city nightlife outside. Eddie hadn’t said anything to you. You nodded your head and shuffled out of the booth, prepared to leave him alone until John got back.

You walked back over to the counter, picking up the money as you went. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You had made yourself a coffee and were about to start tidying up when you heard Eddie move. His heavy footsteps echoed off the floor, his leather jacket rubbing against itself. You looked up, expecting to see him walk out. But he didn’t.

“I’m– we’re playing a show. Tomorrow. If you want to come, that would– fuck, um.” you had never heard his voice sound like it did right now. Soft, but still him. That confidence was hidden just below the surface. “Please come. If you don’t want to watch the show, then come when it finishes.”

You were the one not saying anything now. You were so angry with him, he still hadn’t apologised. He had barely said anything to you, apart from the insults he had thrown at you. So why the fuck did you want to go. Why could you not imagine this being the last time you saw him?

“Come to the door, ask security to get John. He’ll make sure you get in okay, I promise.”

You didn’t have time to even nod in agreement before Eddie was heading for the door, he opened it and you couldn’t drag your eyes away from him. Even with the promise of seeing him tomorrow, it felt like too much of a risk to not take him in as much as you could whilst he was there.

“I’m sorry.”

And then he walked out, letting the door shut behind him. Only this time he had said something to you before he left you. And you knew, no matter how much it would make you hate yourself, that you would see him tomorrow.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Genuinely, I’m genuinely asking you, this isn’t a joke anymore.” Eddie knew John would be insufferable on the drive to the hotel, but if he knew he would be like this? Eddie would have walked.

“I apologised to her. I invited her to the show, whatever she does is her decision.” Eddie bit out, John laughed at his words. The kind of laugh that said are-you-clinically-insane? Eddie couldn’t find it in him to disagree with that.

“Eddie, I have known you for almost as long as that girl has been alive-”

“Okay well that’s not what I need to hear right now, John for fuck-”

“No, listen to me. I have known you since you were barely older than her. And I have never ever seen you be so fucked up over someone else. I have never seen you care about someone else the way you do that girl– and don’t try and bullshit me here. Because you do care about her.” John sounded blunt, harsh. But Eddie knew he only sounded like that when he loved someone and wanted them to be okay. He only pulled out that voice when he needed to slap some sense into Eddie.

Eddie had never told him, but he did love John like a brother. He might tell him someday, maybe with you next to him. Maybe.

“For the past seven months, there is not a day gone by where I have looked at you and you weren’t completely zoned out. You were thinking about her, every time. I knew that. So now, here’s your chance. Not everyone gets those, you know that better than anyone.”

Eddie held back a shaky breath. John saw it, but he knew they needed to have this conversation.

“You are not your father, Eddie.” John needed him to truly understand that. “You never have been him, and you never will be. You won’t ever hurt that girl, in whatever way you’re afraid you will.”

Eddie froze, and then– “I don’t want to hurt her. I would never, I promise. But what if–”

“You are not your father,” John repeated “I know the kind of things he said to you, how he treated you. And how he treated your mother.”

Eddie nodded his head, tears welling in his eyes as he let John talk.

“The idea that you are even related to that man is astounding. And, how you got this reputation is beyond me.” John laughed, remembering something “You– you forced me to adopt a kitten you saw outside your trailer when I first met you, told me it needed to live with someone who had a ‘fancy-ass’ house. You gave her to me and threatened to tell my girlfriend if I said no.” Eddie laughed through the tears that were staining his cheeks.

“Don’t let your father win. He’s not around to control you anymore. If you ask me, you should have gotten on your knees and begged that girl to forgive you; begged her to give you a second chance.” The car stopped and John looked out of the window, the lights from the hotel flickering through the rain. John turned back to Eddie as he took off his seatbelt “Now, I don’t know if she’s going to turn up tomorrow. But if she does? Then she could be the happiest girl in the world if you just let yourself be vulnerable.”

Eddie nodded again, afraid that if he spoke his voice would break with all the emotions that were running through him.

“I assume I’m chaperoning this girl during the show tomorrow?” John said as they both climbed out of the car.

Eddie nodded, and John flung an arm around him as they walked into the hotel.

“I do not get paid enough for everything I do for you.”

After Eddie had left the rest of your shift flew by. No one else came in, which was normal for a weeknight. You spent the last couple of hours of your shift trying to distract yourself from the thoughts that were clouding your brain. Once the sun had started to rise and the orange sunlight began to flood through the windows you felt yourself heave a sigh of relief.

Your manager popped out from the back office every now and then, if she was aware of your run-in with Eddie she didn’t say anything. She never worked the night shift (being the manager had its perks), but the other waitress had called in sick earlier, and there was no one else to cover her.

She had told you she would drive you home, there was no way she was letting you get a taxi. You didn’t argue with her, thanking her and telling her you’d give her gas money, considering your apartment was in the opposite direction to yours. She was adamant you would do no such thing.

Just before 5 AM, the morning waitresses came in. You wouldn’t call them friends per se, but they were nice enough. One was in her mid-forties, with mousy brown hair that she always wore in a long ponytail, bouncing with each footstep she took during her shift. The other was around your age, and you were closer to her. You had been for drinks with her a couple of times, she was loud and extroverted so you never had to do much talking, which you were perfectly happy with.

They made polite conversation as they walked in, asking you how the night had been and if anything eventful had happened.

“Nope, it was pretty boring, to be honest.” There was no way in hell you were telling them that Eddie Munson had been sitting not even a foot away from where they were standing.

You politely dismissed yourself and went to find your manager. You ran into each other in the back hallway, she laughed telling you she was just about to come and rescue you.

The drive home was quiet, casual conversation was shared between the two of you, but nothing more. Soon enough she pulled up outside of your apartment building. You thanked her and went to get out of the car, but before you could she placed a hand on your arm.

“Y/N if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me, you know? You’ve been quiet for a few months now. I don’t want to intrude or push any boundaries, but I care about you. And not just because you’re a good waitress.” You both laughed, and you assured her you were okay. Maybe one day you’d tell her what had been going on. But not just yet.

You went to bed as soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, only making time to pull off your clothes and throw on the oversized t-shirt you slept in. The mattress seemed to swallow you whole as you threw your body down and pulled your comforter over your head.

You only realised you hadn’t set an alarm when you woke up that evening, with a couple of hours left before you needed to leave.

To see Eddie.

Oh fuck.

You stumbled through your apartment to your bathroom and jumped in the shower. The cold water stole a breath from you and made sure you were awake. It took far too long for the water in your building to warm up, and to be honest, you figured taking a cold shower before you saw Eddie couldn’t be a bad thing.

Coming out of the bathroom, a fluffy towel wrapped around you, you turned on the lamps you had dotted around your apartment, the daylight quickly fading.

Your apartment was nice, you were incredibly lucky you had stumbled upon it when you moved here. It was only a studio, but what more did you need when it was just you? You separated your bedroom from the lounge and kitchen with a curtain that hung from the ceiling. It had been there when you moved in and you didn’t question how exactly the previous residents had got it there in the first place.

The rest of the apartment was undoubtedly old-fashioned. With 60’s and 70’s architecture but you made it your own. You brought all of your furniture from thrift stores, leaning into the 60’s look that you had been lumbered with. A variety of rugs covered the floor, lamps were placed on tables and plants were in every corner. It felt homely, certainly far from perfect but it was your own, and that was all that mattered.

You spent an hour or so doing your makeup, hair and getting dressed. You had never been the most confident person, but tonight you felt genuinely pretty. But you barely gave yourself time to let yourself feel that before the nerves took over your body. You felt lightheaded, a telltale sign that your anxiety was about to get the better of you.

So you did what you should never do in those situations. You eyed up the bottle of vodka you had out on your kitchen counter, left over from the other night when your friends had come over.

You told yourself you’d do one shot. Ease your nerves and loosen you up so you could at least talk to Eddie when you saw him.

Now, you would like to reiterate that this was the worst decision you could have made.

After the first shot, you called a taxi. And then you took two more shots before leaving your apartment.

You were a lightweight. This is important to note because you were already tipsy.

You arrived at the venue about five minutes before the concert started, meaning it was relatively quiet outside, everyone else was already inside, excitedly waiting for it to start. You remembered what Eddie had said about speaking to security and asking for John. It was cool outside, but not cold. The soft air hits your face and sobers you up slightly, you rested against a wall for a minute, asking yourself what the fuck you were doing.

Eddie had said sorry only after he had shouted at you. Accused you of telling anyone who would listen that you had fucked him. And maybe you were crazy, maybe you were being stupid. But… you looked at him and you felt like you were wrapped in a warm hug, his eyes were deafening. One look into them and time slowed down, any music stopped playing, and everyone stopped talking, all because you were looking at him.

You couldn’t ignore that feeling. It was the feeling you read about in fairy tales as a child. So here you were, wearing your heart on your sleeve. Trusting Eddie not to break it.

You made your way over to one of the entrances and spoke to the man standing there. You asked him to get John. He asked your name, and when you told him a knowing look crossed his face. He smiled and told you to wait there.

Has Eddie told everyone about you? No, no he wouldn’t do that. He probably told John to let security know you were coming, so they wouldn't turn you away.

Whilst you waited for John you felt the alcohol really take an effect. Oh no.

Before you had time to curse yourself for your decisions John rounded the corner, he smiled at you and waved you forward.

“I really hoped you would turn up. I don’t know why, but I did.” John told you, there was something in his voice you couldn’t place. He sounded happy, amused almost. A complete turnaround from his demeanour when you first met him.

“Eddie could convince anyone to do anything.” your voice was slightly shaky, trying to act sober will do that to a person. John looked at you as he led you to the balcony you would watch the show from, a knowing look crossing his face.

If he knew you were drunk, he spared you the embarrassment of pointing it out “He really could.” John pushed back a curtain and signalled for you to walk through. The balcony was big, and there were plenty of people up there. Some were sitting on the sofas that were dotted along the back wall, others were leaning over the railing watching the concert. It had just started, and the noise was deafening as you walked in, the music was almost drowned out by the screams throughout the arena.

“I’ll come back to get you at the end” you nodded your appreciation and walked over to the railing, a couple of people smiled at you. You assumed they were all family and friends, and suddenly you felt incredibly out of your comfort zone. You focused on the show instead, ignoring the eyes that you could feel staring at the back of your head. You didn’t blame them for being curious as to who you were, you just wished they would stop staring at you.

Twenty or so minutes later someone who obviously worked the bar brought over a tray of cocktails for everyone. Given your already tipsy state, you were inclined to pass on them, but then a sweet woman brought you one over. She was all wide smiles, sparkly eyes and gentle conversation. And soon enough you were downing another cocktail whilst she told you all about herself.

She was the wife of the drummer. They were high-school sweethearts and had a kid together. It was nice, she didn’t pressure you to tell her exactly why you were there which you were grateful for. You weren’t sure how to explain you were a one-time hook-up who was now here for… you still didn’t know what you were here for. But you felt yourself relax as you finished the cocktail and you ended up enjoying yourself far more than you had anticipated, a smile was plastered across your face when the concert ended and John came up behind you, a gentle tap on the shoulder to get your attention.

“Eddie asked me to take you straight out to the car, he’s already there,” John said as he held an arm out around you. You were drunker than you thought.

“Why are we going to a car? Wait–” You turned around comically fast, John held back a laugh when you held your arm out to steady yourself “did you tell Eddie I was… drunk?” you whispered the last word, for some reason.

You were so far gone it would have been funny any other time. Right now you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

“I popped my head in halfway through and saw you down a cocktail. Considering I could smell vodka on you when you got here I made the safe assumption you wouldn’t be sober.” your face dropped at his words and he noticed, “hey don’t worry about it. Eddie is in no position to judge anyone for this, trust me, sweetheart.”

You nodded and let him lead you to the car, the cold night air a welcome feeling on your warm skin. John opened the door for you and you looked in to see Eddie with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh no he’s gonna laugh at me John” you sounded like a child who had been caught eating chocolate when they weren’t supposed to. John couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Yeah he might, but it will be out of love” you tilted your head at his words. ‘Out of love’ was a saying, but the idea of Eddie loving you made your heart jump and your brain shut off.

John asked for your address, and when you questioned why exactly he needed to know that, he said Eddie was taking you home.

“Okay you’re like Bambi on ice here sweetheart, give me your hand”

You had arrived at your apartment soon enough, the flickering city lights and the motion of the car enough to make your head spin. Eddie noticed and told you to rest your head on his shoulder. You did what he said, practically burying your face in his jacket to stop the dizziness from getting worse. Now you were attempting to make it up to your apartment, which was proving to be a much more difficult task than it should be. You had sobered up compared to earlier, but you were still tipsy and your balance was questionable at the best of times. You were still tipsy enough to be far more relaxed than you were expecting to be around Eddie.

Eddie held a hand out for you and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, balancing yourself as you walked down the corridor.

“I am much more graceful than Bambi ever was,” you told Eddie, trying to search for your keys in your pockets as you stood outside your door.

“If you say so” Eddie laughed, it was a sweet laugh, one that filled your whole body with warmth and made you feel all gooey inside. Gooey was not a word that existed in your daily vocabulary, but apparently, it was when you were drunk.

“Please tell me you have your keys–”

“I have them! These pockets are just– oh! See, I’ve got them!”

“You sure do” Eddie watched you as he kept a gentle arm around you, he wasn’t touching you, he was just ready for you to go down at any minute.

You not-so-gracefully managed to get your keys in the door and swing it open, Eddie was hesitant, waiting outside your door as you swept your apartment, turning on the lamps and closing your curtains. “You can come in, you know”

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe, that’s all.”

“I thought you wanted to talk to me?” you asked him, had he changed his mind? You felt tears well at the back of your eyes and you silently cursed yourself.

“Tomorrow. If you want to. I’ll give you my number, and you can call me when you’re not drunk, okay sweet?”

“O-okay. '' he watched you search for something for a minute, and then you were signalling for him to come in. He did, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Here. Write your number down for me,” you told him as you held out the pad and paper. A smile spread across his face and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“I could just put my number into your phone, sweetheart. I thought I was meant to be the old one here.”

“Shut up, it’s cute this way,” you whispered under your breath, but he clung to every word. You were different in your own home, Eddie thought. More relaxed, although that could be the alcohol. But no, the way that you walked around, comfort seeping into you as you relaxed back into your own space. The way you had slipped your shoes off instantly, your socks padding across the floor as you turned on the lights. It suited you, he thought.

Eddie nodded his head to the table in the corner, asking if he could lean against that to write his number for you, as you had insisted. You mouthed a ‘yeah’ at his request. He seemed to take in everything around him as he walked over to the table, looking at the decor you had lying around. You suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

He was in your home. This man was still arguably a stranger. But that pang of vulnerability was soon replaced with a feeling of contentness. Eddie suited domesticity. He fit right into your space, his style a contrast to your apartment, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

You pulled your eyes away from Eddie long enough to try and grab yourself a drink of water. But as you leant your hands on the kitchen counter you placed your hand right on a knife you had left out earlier. In your drunken state, you attempted to pick it up and put it away, but you managed to grab the sharp edge. You pulled your hand back quickly, but there was still a cut on your palm, blood pooling around the injury.

“Oh shit,” you hissed, pain evident in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie practically jumped out of the chair he had sat in, dropping the pen he was holding and making his way over to you.

“I picked up that knife,” you told him.

“What– why– why did you do that?” Eddie asked you, with genuine confusion in his voice as he gently took your hand into his, looking at the damage you had done.

“Well I thought it would be fun to– I obviously didn’t do it on purpose!” you said defensively, but you were smiling at him despite the pain.

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie hadn’t heard any of what you had just said, you could tell by the flatness of his voice, “come on, let’s get you sorted out.”

You suddenly felt nervous, his hand on your sending heat rising throughout you. “No, it’s okay. You go, I can just stick a bandaid on it. It’s all good.”

“I won’t be able to sleep tonight knowing I left a lady in distress.” Eddie joked, you couldn’t help the blush that flooded your cheeks at his words, “besides your hand could still fall off.” Eddie said in a dead-serious tone. One that made you burst out laughing.

“I think it’ll be okay,” you said through breathy laughter.

“Let me take care of you and we’ll know for certain,” Eddie said. You nodded and he asked you where your bathroom was. You stared at him for a second and then pointed to the only door in the apartment, besides the front one. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the smartest cookie in the jar. But that was okay.

Eddie led you to the bathroom and you sat down on the counter next to the sink, holding your hand out in front of you.

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” Eddie asked you gently.

“In the cupboard below the sink,” you told him, moving your legs to the side so he could get to it.

Eddie bent down and grabbed it off the shelf. He stood back up and placed it next to you, opening it and grabbing out what he needed. You moved your legs so Eddie could stand between them. He picked up your hand and looked at it once more before he gently cleaned it. You watched his hands the whole time, the way he was so soft with you, whispering out little apologies when you whispered out a complaint once that it hurt.

Eddie wrapped a dressing around your hand, you asked if it was too much but he said the cut was deeper than you realised. So you simply nodded and watched his hands wrap around yours. Once he had secured the dressing he looked up at you, breathing a “done” and holding your hand in his.

You meant to say thank you, but that wasn’t what came out “You’re really pretty.”

Eddie smirked and dropped his head, you could tell he was trying not to laugh at your brutal honesty. “So are you angel.”

A sickly-sweet smile crossed both of your faces. You wanted to kiss him.

You should kiss him.

You moved your head ever so slightly, but Eddie caught on to what you were doing and brought his spare hand up to rest on your cheek, a sweet movement but one that was intended to stop you from doing what you were about to.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m tipsy,” you insisted.

“I’m not gonna kiss you. Not tonight, sweetheart.” You pouted at his words. A childish move and quite frankly it confirmed to him that you were far from sober.

“When I kiss you again, I want you to remember it.” you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his. His hand on your face, and his voice and his eyes and it was all-consuming.

“Come on, get into bed,” you smirked and he swore every time you smiled at him you took a little piece of his heart with you. “By yourself, smartass. Get into bed by yourself.”

“My makeup,” you told him. It was barely a full sentence but it was the best you could do when he was standing so close to you.

“Yeah, I like it.” He said. He rubbed his thumb under your eye and you held back a laugh.

“No– I can’t go to sleep in my makeup.” you clarified. He sighed out an ‘oh’ and then dipped back down to open the cupboard below the sink. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but then he came back up with makeup remover and a washcloth. A smile that tugged on his star-filled eyes flooded his face.

Your heart broke for him all over again but for a different reason this time.

“Close your eyes, angel. Don’t wanna blind you.”

You did as he said, slowly closing your eyes after you saw him tip some of the water onto the cloth. He was incredibly gentle with you, barely applying enough pressure to remove the makeup, but you didn’t tell him that.

After a minute or so you felt his hand leave your face and you hesitantly opened your eyes. He smiled at you and tilted his head, taking you in.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Shut up old man.” you let out an obnoxiously loud laugh. In your defence, in your current state, that was the height of comedy.

“Oh wow. You have a talent for running perfect moments don’t you doll.”

“I’m sorry. You’re not old” You told him, moving to get down off the counter and make your way into bed, “You’re middle-aged”

Eddie huffed out a laugh as he followed you, “I’ll take it.” He sighed, you couldn’t see but his eyes were full of love as he watched you get into bed. You hadn’t bothered to change into pyjamas. That felt… too much. You were drunk enough that you could easily fall asleep in your clothes.

“Do you need to lock the door after me,” Eddie asked quietly.

“The door locks automatically, as soon as you shut it. I’ve been locked out too many times to count,” you told him, your voice muffled by the pillow your head was smushed against.

“Okay.” Eddie ran a hand through your hair that fell around your face. “I’m gonna go, angel.”

You were too tired to verbally respond anymore, sleep had quickly taken over when your body hit the mattress. You heard Eddie move around, but didn’t lift your head to see what he was doing. And then you heard the door open and shut.

Your eyes shut to the sound of his walking down the corridor.

When you woke up the next morning your first thought was of Eddie.

And that was how you knew you were officially fucked.

You sat up and a glass of water on your bedside table caught your eye. You didn’t remember putting it there but you gratefully leaned over and picked it up, taking small sips as you assessed how bad your hangover was.

It wasn’t. That was your saving grace. You were still young enough to avoid bad hangovers; you had a slight headache and the sunlight seemed slightly too bright. But it was nothing a couple of painkillers wouldn’t sort out. Sitting up fully you swung your legs out of the bed, feet hitting the floor with a dull thud.

You put the now-empty glass back down and a piece of paper grabbed your attention. Picking it up you saw a number written down. And an ‘-E’ next to it.

Eddie got back to the hotel to find John waiting outside his room.

“It’s creepy to stalk people, you know?” Eddie announced as he pulled out the card to open the door.

John ignored him, “How was the girl?” heasked, tiredness seeping from him.

“You know her name, what’s with calling her ‘the girl’ all the time?” Eddie asked as he stepped inside.

“I like it. Makes it sound more mysterious.” John said as he leaned in the doorway, watching Eddie make his way down the hallway and into the bedroom.

“She’s passed out in bed,” Eddie shouted loud enough for John to hear him.

“Good. The poor girl’s gonna have a hell of a morning.”

“She’s young, she’ll be fine,” Eddie said, coming back out from the bedroom and leaning against the wall.

“Right. And you? You’ll be fine too?” John asked sincerely.

“If you let me get some damn sleep I’ll be great.” John nodded and pushed himself off the door frame, pulling the door shut behind him.

Eddie didn’t sleep much that night. He tossed and turned until the early hours of the morning, finally falling asleep when his body physically couldn’t stay awake any longer.

He was thinking about you. He couldn't stop thinking about you.

Which is why when his phone rang halfway through the morning, he jumped off the couch and practically lunged for his phone that was sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“Hello?” Eddie’s voice was loud against the quietness on the other end of the phone, for a minute he worried it wasn’t you calling. His chest suddenly felt heavy, but then–

“Hi. It’s me.” You.

Your voice rang through his head and he would never admit to anyone that a smile graced his face at the sound.

“How are you?” Eddie asked, he swore you could hear his smile in his voice.

“I’m alive.” you said, laughter bubbling up, “No, I’m okay actually.”

“Enjoy it, you won’t be young forever, doll,” Eddie told you as he fidgeted in his seat.

“Yeah– yeah I know.” something deeper seeped into your voice, a seriousness coming through your words. “Can we talk? I know you wanted to last night, and I’m so so sorry, I’m so embarrassed that I–”

“You’re all good, sweetheart,” Eddie responded and he heard you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Do you want to come over? I can send a car for you, come and pick you up?” Eddie asked, holding his breath as he waited for an answer.

“No I can just get a taxi, it’s okay.” Eddie already knew better than to argue with you, so he didn’t. “Where are you? Some fancy hotel for rich people I’m guessing?”

Eddie chuckled, he liked it when you made fun of him, because he could always hear the adoration in your voice as you did, “yeah I’m at uh– the same hotel I was last time.”

“Ah, yeah okay. So it’s okay for me to come over, you’re not busy?” You asked sweetly, nerves peeking their head.

“No. Never.” Eddie told you.

Eddie told you the floor and room number before you hung up.

Shit. Okay.

He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t fuck this up again.

The drive to the hotel was the longest you had ever experienced. Every emotion was running through your body as you rode the elevator to Eddie’s floor. Your leg bounced underneath you repeatedly as you fiddled with the ring on your middle finger. Eventually, the doors opened and you stepped out, smiling at a couple as they walked past you.

You checked the number on each door until you reached the one Eddie had told you was his.

You could still turn around.

No.

You were already knocking on the door. And you heard someone move around through the door. You realised you were scratching your hands and quickly dropped them to your sides before the door opened, and you saw Eddie standing there.

He looked like he always did. Messy hair framed his face. Freckles dotted his nose and under his eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie’s voice alone could convince you to do anything he asked of you, it was one of those voices that managed to seep into your veins and completely engulf you.

“Hey,�� you responded, feeling that calm overtake you. The same calm and safety you felt whenever he looked at you, “Can I come in?” you asked when he didn’t say anything.

He was taking you in. He was also going over everything he wanted to say to you. He was terrified. Truly.

“Yeah– shit, yeah of course,” Eddie uttered, moving to the side to allow you to walk in.

It wasn’t the same suite as last time. This floor was higher up, but it was almost identical. The same layout, the same rooms, the same corridor he had left you standing in.

You walked in and made your way to where you knew the living room was, the same decadence overwhelmed you, and you had to take a minute to get used to it again. Eddie followed a couple of steps behind you - the air was thick with tension, neither of you entirely sure of what the other was about to say or do.

You turned to look at Eddie and inclined your head towards the couch, asking if it was okay for you to sit down. He nodded and you both sat yourselves down on either ends of the couch, enough space between the two of you for another person to fit there.

The TV played silently, a movie playing that you didn’t recognise. The floor-to-ceieling windows that covered the wall to the side of you let sunlight drown the room in a warm golden glow.

“I–”

“Do you-”

You both cut yourselves off as you spoke over one another. It could have been an awkward moment, but the feeling faded into something sweeter. A tender moment that showed each other just how nervous you both were. For some reason, knowing Eddie was just as nervous as you were made you feel better.

“Sorry, I just– I had some… stuff I wanted to to tell you, say to you.” Eddie told you, watching your face ccarefully. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine. I’m sorry, go ahead.” You settled back into the couch, lifting your legs and crossing them as you turned to face Eddie.

“Okay I’m not promising I’m very good at articulating myself, or fuckin’ whatever, so you’re gonna have to give me a minute.” Eddie said, his voice shaky.

“That’s okay.” you told him, your voice soft and bareilly above a whisper. His eyes had glazed over with something like fear, you wanted to lean across and rest a comforting hand on his, but you didn’t. Not yet.

“That morning, when I left you–” you tensed up as the memory flooded back, Eddie noticed it too but carried on, “I have regretted that every day since then. I’ve done some really fucking stupid things, maybe one day I can tell you all of them, but that? Leaving you? That is the worst thing I have ever done.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat and he coughed before carrying on talking, giving himself a minute to gather himself.

“I thought I would move on. Forget about you– and I know, that makes me sound like a complete asshole, but I’m tryna be honest here. I wanted to forget about you. I needed to. Because the way I felt when I looked at you, scared me so much I didn’t know what to do.”

The emotions you were both feeling were palpable in the comforting silence of the room. You didn’t try and interject, letting Eddie talk. You had never heard his voice sound so genuine. Almost like every other time he had spoken he had been putting on a mask, pretending to be someone else- pretending to be the rockstar everyone so desperately wanted him to be. You liked this version of him a lot more.

“When I was a kid my–” he paused for a minute, unintentional, as if he wanted to speak but he couldn’t form the words for a second, “my mom used to tell me that when you meet someone who makes you feel so happy it terrifies you, you should hold onto them.”

“Because that’s when you know its real. She told me you couldn’t love someone without being scared to death at the same time. Because loving somsone? Fuck, it’s a big feeling, you know?” You laughed gently at that, for someone who famously wrote his own music he really did have an interesting choice of words, but you found it endearing.

“It takes over every part of you and when she would tell me that, I thought she was lying, or something. Because if falling in love was so terrifying I didn’t understand why people would do it.” Eddie was moving his hands as he spoke, punctuating every word with a gentle movement. “And then I never felt that way, towards anyone. In forty years I never looked at someone and felt the world fall out from beneath my feet. And I was glad I didn’t, because I didn’t want to hurt that person.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, your moth dropping open slightly to ask him what he meant. But then he was talking again, and you settled back into listening.

“Sweetheart I am not here to try and emotionally blackmail you into staying, or being with me, or anything, okay?” Eddie’s voice went more serious, his eyes staring into yours in a way that made you think he could see right through you and read every thought that was running through your mind.

“And I’m not going to sit here and tell you some cliche sob story about how I had a shitty childhood and it fucked me up or anything.” You hadn’t realised it but you had moved closer to Eddie, your knees grazing each others as you listened to him talk.

“I did have a crappy childhood- I mean it wasn’t the worst, by any means but it wasn’t an all-American family with a white picket fence, you know? My dad was- my dad was the worst man I’ve ever met in my life, he treated my mom like a fucking piece of shit and I hated him for it. I listened to them fight, argue, I would leave my bedroom door open so I could hear if I needed to go and help my mom.”

You felt tears well in your eyes as he spoke. He was being completely honest with you. You could tell. This wasn’t easy for him to talk about.

He had never spoken about this.

“He’d hit her, do other things too but I remember when he would hit her. I remember the noise it would make. I would try and grab his arm but he would just swing back at me and throw me against the nearest wall– and I was a skinny kid you know? Fuck there was nothing of me, so I had no chance against him.”

Eddie seemed to quickly realise how much he had just said, what he had admitted to you and his face dropped. “Fuck I– I only told you that because one day, after my mom had left, and we were fighting he told me that– he told me that I was just like him.”

“He said when he looked at me, he saw himself. Which I didn’t understand at first, because I was the spitting image of my mom. Hair, the eyes, everything. But then he laughed and told me that one day I’d realise it too, that I was gonna be exactly like him, whether I wanted to or not.” Eddie shifted his body weight on the couch, moving his hand to rest over the back of it.

“So that day I promised myself I would never fall in love with someone, because I would never put someone through what he put me and my mom through.” Eddie wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, he wasn’t crying but he obviously worried he was about to.

When he didn’t carry on talking you said, “Eddie can I say something?” he nodded and you moved your hand to rest it on his knee that was next to yours, his eyes followed your hand movement and then flicked back up to yours when he realised what you were doing.

“You just sat and told me that you’re biggest fear is turning into your dad, right?” Eddie nodded slowly, waiting to see what you were going to say. “But the fact that you just told me that? That means you are nothing like him.”

Eddie swallowed a lum in his throat, “I don’t want to hurt you, in any way. But what if there’s something inside me that is just bad.”

“What if there’s something inside of you that is just desperate to love and be loved?”

Eddie moved his hand to rest over yours, and you interlaced your fingers together.

“There’s more I want to tell you, but I can’t right now, I’m just not ready but I will, soon. And I will spend every minute of every day aplogizing for leaving you, for being an asshole to you at the diner, for everything. I promise you I–”

‘Eddie, I know you will.” you truly did know that.

“Okay.” his voice come out soft, gratefulness tinging his voice as he realised you genuinely meant it. And then an understanding flicked between the two of you.

You two were far from perfect. This situation was far from a fairytale. And maybe to everyone else you would seem crazy for what you were about to do. But you didn’t care. Because when you looked at Eddie you felt the most terrified you have ever felt in your life, because you knew you wanted to see his face every day for the rest of your life.

Eddie knew that too. He knew there was no other option anymore. He had to wake up next to you every morning, he had to fall asleep next to you every night, and there was no other choice expect that.

“Can you kiss me now?” you asked, a smile tugging on your lips and lighting your eyes up in a way that had Eddie falling head over heels all over again.

“Yeah– yeah, sweetheart. Come here,” Eddie leaned forward at the same time you did and cupped your face in both of his hands, you titled your head to the side and then all of the planets aligned and nothing else mattered except the press of his lips against yours.

The kiss started off slow, sweet and deep like you were both trying to saviour this moment for as long as possible. Eddie’s lips moved gently against your own and you reached up to take one of his hands that was cupping your face, and interlace your fingers together.

His lips were soft and you felt like you were floating on a sun-kissed cloud everytime he guided your head to the side, allowing him to kiss you harder, deeper. Soon enough that feeling built up inside you again and you took a leap of faith; opening your mouth and letting your tongue run softly over Eddie’s bottom lip, a desperate plead for more.

Eddie pulled back, you leaned forward trying to chase his lips, and he couldn’t help the love that consumed him at the look of serenity that painted your face. You didn’t want to be away from him for even a second. And neither did he, but he didn’t want to ruin this, or seem like he only wanted one thing.

“Sweetheart– we don’t have to.” Eddie told you gently, his hand caressing your face and his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.

“You don’t want to?” You asked, if he didn’t want to you would stop, of course you would.

“No! I mean no, yes– I do want to, fuck of course I do. I just don’t want you to think-”

“I don’t think that Eddie, I promise.” you cut him off before he could finish speaking, already knowing what he was about to say, the worry that flashed across his face told you everything you needed to know. A sickly-sweet smile spread across his face before he leaned back in to kiss you. Your lips moving against each others in perfect harmony, like this was what you were meant to do all your life.

Eddie let his tongue run over your bottom lip, you let him deepen the kiss and your tongues met in a cataclysmic way, both of you desperate to taste each other. The kiss was fast and slow, deep and soft, it was everything you had been craving for the past seven months- even when you hated him, you couldn’t forget the way his lips had felt on yours.

You could have been making out for five minutes or five hours, time had no meaning when you were with Eddie, it was all him and nothing else. But then you felt him push you back slightly, he relucatlanly pulled away from you, his lips still grazing yours as he told you to lie down.

You did as he asked you to, clumsily manouvering your body until you were lay flat against the soft couch cushions, Eddie moving to lie on top of you. One of his hands rested on your waist, his fingers grazing the tiny slip of skin that was showing where your jumper had raised up. He rested his weight on his forearm next to your head, carefully moving your hair out of the way before he did so.

You breathed him in as he lowered his mouth to your jaw, planting gentle kisses over your face. His hair fell around both of you, and if kissing Eddie felt like heaven then you didn’t have the vocolabury to describe what it felt like to be underneath him, completely consumed by everything that was so undeniably Eddie.

His curly hair, his soft lips, the little sighs he let out when he kissed a new spot on your body, the way his ring-clad fingers graze your skin. It was as close to a religious experience that you would ever get.

Eddie trailed kisses down your across your jaw and down your neck, you lent your head back further, giving him more room and you felt his lips turn up into a smile against your skin.

Your hand raised to rest in Eddie’s hair as he kissed your neck, instantly finding your sweet spot again, as if no time had passed and every sound you had made and reacted to his every touch came flooding back to him as he tasted your skin.

He was determined be soft with you. Take things slow and savour every moment. You were too, but then Eddie gently grazed your sweet spot with his teeth and you found yourself pushing his head further into his neck, desperate for his touch.

Eddie listened to you, the hand on the back of his head told him everything he needed to know. He gently sucked a lovebite over your pulse point; the breathy moans that fell from your mouth were music to him, he would do whatever it took to hear those noises for the rest of his life.

Eddie continued to mouth at your neck until he needed to kiss you again. He lifted his head from your neck only to be met your heavy eyelids, mouth slightly parted and a look of complete comfort on your face. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving your head back up to him. Your noses touching before he connected your lips, and you kissed like the world was ending tomorrow.

This was perfect, but you needed more. You felt that familiar aching start to grow within you and you languidly moved one of your legs to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him flush against you.

Your movement caused Eddie to falter in his kissing you, for just a second. And then he had his hand on your jean-clad thigh and he was carefully grinding his hips down into yours. Determined to keep the soft atmosphere you were both bathing in. You panted into each other’s mouths, neither of you kissing anymore, your lips only moving against each other because of the gentle movement of Eddie rocking against you.

Neither of you said anything, you didn’t need to. Your soft pants and whimpers filling the soothing silence in the room. Both of you perfectly content to just take each other in, feel each other’s bodies move against each other, without any rush for more.

You lasted like that for a while. Sweet kisses shared between the two of you. And then Eddie made one move with his hips that had you moaning louder than you had before, and suddenly it wasn’t enough.

“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out.

“Yeah, angel?” Eddie asked you, his own voice sounding fucked out already.

“Need more,” Eddie pressed a kiss to your lips in response, he would give you whatever you needed.

“Yeah? tell me sweetheart, I’ll give you whatever you need, you just need to tell me.” Eddie’s soft voice settled over you and tightened your grip on him, grounding yourself. Trying to remind you that was real. This was really happening. Eddie made you feel so safe that you didn’t feel any embarrassment in telling him what you needed.

“I need- fuck, need your fingers, please.” Eddie whispered an okay and managed to slip his hands between your bodies, sitting up to undo the buttons on your jeans, his hands were shaking slightly. Yours were too.

“Can you just lift your–” you did what he asked before he got the question out. Somehow, despite him lying over you, he managed to take your jeans and underwear off. You both laughed quietly when it became slightly awkward, both of you moving around as you needed to. Soon enough he had your jeans placed on the floor next to you.

Eddie placed kisses along the top of your thigh, moving up to kiss over your waist and stomach, gently pushing up your jumper once you signalled it was okay for him to do that. He already had your pants off, and yet he wouldn’t even lift your top up without getting your permission again.

Eddie was kissing every square inch of your body, his plump lips leaving sparks everywhere he touched you. As content as you were to bask in the affection, you really needed him to touch you.

You tapped his shoulder and pulled him up to you, moving him where you wanted him, exposing his neck so you could kiss it. He let you, tilting his head to side and letting small breathless whines fall from his lips as yours caressed his neck.

You felt his hand slip between your bodies again and then his fingers fell to between your legs and he ran them through your slit, gathering the wetness he found there and moving them up to your clit.

“Fuck doll, you’re so wet, so fuckin’ perfect for me.” Eddie was breathless just from feeling how needy you were for him. He already knew he would never get over the affect he had on you.

You moaned out in response and Eddie circled your clit. His fingers sedning sparks through your body, “Oh god– Eddie”.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, let it out. Let me hear you.” Eddie cooed at you, applying slightly more pressure and just barely speeding up, and when your back arched off the sofa he smiled, knowing he’d found the perfect way to touch you.

Eddie dipped down to kiss you, and you pulled him closer to you. You werne’t sure you would ever be close enough to him. He kissed you as his hand worked you to your breaking point, he swallowed your soft whimpers and moans, letting out little shh shh shh’s and comforting praise when you got too worked up.

“Fuck oh my god– inside me, please Eds,” The nickname broke his heart and he kissed your forehead before dipping his two fingers down to press them gently inside you.

The stretch of his two fingers was definitely there, but it was clouded by the pleasure that spread through your body, and the relief of him touching you the way you needed.

“You’re okay, sweets?” Eddie asked when he saw your eyebrows scrunched together, eyes closed. But then you moaned and nodded your head with such certainty it would have been comedic if he wasn’t so completely enamoured by the way you were falling apart underneath him.

He slowly started moving his fingers in you, your wetness making it feel even better. Eddie was barely even pulling them out of you, instead he rocked them gently inside you, and when he curled his fingers upwards you swear you died for a second. Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth dropping open in a soundless moan.

You were so despeate you knew from the start you wouldn’t last long, but he had barely been going for two minutes and you felt that knot get tighter in your stomach and you knew you were so close to being thrown over the edge.

Eddie felt you get tighter around his fingers and he was grinding his hips down into your thigh without even realising he was doing it. Feeling his hips move against you was all you needed to send you to your breaking point, Eddie noticed instantly in the way your breath hitched.

“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” you nodded as he kissed your cheek, your nose, the side of your mouth; anywhere he could reach. “You can come angel, come on. Just let go for me, I’ve got you. Need to feel you come all over my fingers for me”

His words sent you over the edge and you barely even recognised the sounds you let out, your ears were ringing and you were sure your vision blacked out for a second. Eddie never let up, working you through your orgasm, drawing it out for as long as possible, letting you ride it until it got to be too much.

When it did, your hand flew down to his hand, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. Eddie carefully pulled his fingers out of you and your eyes went wide with need when he raised them to his mouth, cleaning your arousal off of them and dipping down to kiss you.

The taste of yourself on his tongue was all-consuming. Eddie moaned against you and you pushed your hand between you to feel his cock through his pants. His hips stuttered and he swore under his breath.

“Fuck sweetheart, keep doing that.” Eddie practically begged you, and who were you to say no to such a pretty man begging you to touch him?

You kept plaming him over his pants, he was moaning into his neck and when you undid his zipper to slip your hand underneath he almost bit down on the skin he was sucking on to stop himself from distrubing the rest of the hotel with the sounds that were falling from his mouth.

“Shit, okay– I need to be inside you, angel. Is that okay?” Eddie asked, his eyes clouded with arousal and his skin flushed.

You nodded and shorty after Eddie was pulling you up from your position on the couch. Eddie stood up and held his hand out for you. You took it and he led you to the bedroom across the hallway. Time slowed down as he delicately placed his hands on you hips and pulled you against him, kissing you as he placed his hand behind your head and lay you down onto the bed, climbing to rest on top of you.

You kissed him until you felt him tense against you. You bit back a laugh at how desperate he was, he didn’t want to rush you, of course. But he was certain if he didn’t get inside you in the next two minutes he was going to go insane. He needed to feel you around him.

You pushed Eddie’s shoulder and he pulled away from you to see what you were doing.

“Fuck me, Eddie.” you said breathlessly.

Eddie didn’t need to be asked twice.

He backed off you to throw off his trousers and top and grab a condom. You watched him intensely and felt the wetness cover your thighs at the sight of him.

You had almost forgotten how perfect he was. Almost.

He moved back over you, kissing you as he wrapped your legs around his waist loosely. He guided himself into you, rubbing himself over your clit a couple of times until you were whimpering for him to please fuck you.

He remembered the last time. How it took you a second to adjust to him. He was gentle as he pushed unto you a few inches. He stold your breath from you for a second, the stretch not feeling as painful as last time, instead you were already begging for more. Moving your hips to get him deeper.

Eddie smiled and carried on pushing into you. Watching your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable, but it never came. Soft whimpers and moans fell from your lips and your legs tightened around him as he bottomed out inside you.

It felt so right. Nothing felt as right as Eddie being inside you.

“Fuck, good girl– taking me so fucking well.” Eddie praised you as he began to move inside you, pulling out almost all the way and then back into you.

He found the perfect rhythm. One that had you both whispering soft praises into each others mouths and had your nails digging into his back. His forearms were back on either side of his head as held his body weigh off of you.

But when you whimpered out in protest at the small piece of space left between you he lowered himself, his chest flush against yours and his head buried in your neck.

His ring-clad fingers held onto your thigh around his waist- despite the gentleness, you were sure you would have marks there afterwards.

Eddie normally lasted a while, but being inside of you sent him flying towards his release ridiculously fast. He mouthed at your neck and when he hit that sweet-spot inside you, you let out a moan that could have made Eddie come there and then.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good– oh god,” his voice was muffled against your neck, never stopping pressing kisses into your skin.

“You feel so good too, fuck Eddie.”

Eddie wanted you to come again before him, he pushed one of your legs up, holding it against you and the change in position had you clawing at his back and pulling his head up so you could kiss him.

You could tell Eddie was close by the whimpers he was letting out, his head dropping to rest against yours and you could hear him right in your ear, sending your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck I want you to come for me, Eddie,” you whispered against his hair.

He pulled up to look at you, he looked completely fucked out and you wondered how he hadn’t come already.

“Want you to come first, angel, okay?” Eddie asked you, desperation seeping through his words.

“No, no it’s okay. Please I want you to come. I need you to come for me, please baby–”

Eddie mewled and you pulled him down into a fiery kiss, the gentleness that had permeated everything you had done before suddenly disappearing.

“Jesus sweethear, you;re gonna kill me, oh fuck–”

Eddie groaned and you felt his hips stutter against yours as he came. You ran your fingers through his hair as he came. His grip on your thigh loosening and your leg dropping back against the mattress when his whole body went limp.

If he wasn’t already flush against you he would have collapsed.

You both breathed heavily as he came down from his high. You don’t know how long you lay there for, but Eddie slid his arm underneath your back and pulled you impossibly tighter against you as his head found its place back in your neck.

You were glad he was so fucked out, because you didn’t want him to pull out yet. You loved the feeling of him inside you.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie said into your neck.

You ran your nails along his scalp, humming in answer to his question, telling him you were listening.

“Thank you, fuck you’re. I–” Eddie stopped himself when he looked at you.

But you knew what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t yet. You understood.

“I know. I know, Eddie.” You comforted him and he kissed you, his tongue running over your lips and you stayed like that for a while. Soft, deep kisses shared as you both came to terms with what had just happened. What it meant.

Soon Eddie moved off of you, pulling out gently and tidying himself up. You expected him to come back with a warm washcloth to clean you up to. But when he walked back into the room he pulled you to the end of the bed and knelt down in front of you, pulling your legs over his shoulders.

“Eddie, what–”

“You didn’t come, sweetheart. That just won’t work.” Eddie said before he ran his tongue over your sensitive cunt and your hands dived into his hair and your back arched off the bed and the whole world seemed to go quiet again.

His tongue ran through your slit, alternating between sucking on your clit and dipping his tonuge inside you. You mewled and whimpered and he held his arm over your waist to keep your body pressed to the mattress. But leaving you enough space to grind your hips into his face, he mewled and pulled back to tell you how good you were being for him, that he wanted you to use him until you were seeing stars.

You didn’t last long after that. Your hand covered his that held your waist down and you threw your hea back, letting your hips mvoe against him and not hiding the moans that fell from your half-open mouth.

“Oh fuck me, Eddie– I’m gonna–”

“I know, come on angel, come for me.”

That was all it took for you to go over the edge for the second time. Eddie worked you through your orgasm again, only moving his mouth away from you when you were physically pulling back from the overstimualtion.

When you opened your eyes, as you felt the mattress dip around you, you saw Eddie. His star-flecked eyes looking at yours and you held him against you.

No one else could ever make you feel the way he could.

And no one else could make him feel the way you did.

You and Eddie spent the rest of the day in bed together. Limbs tangled and your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he softly scratched your back whilst you talked about anything and everything.

It didn’t matter what you were talking about, it just mattered that you two were together.

You had sex a few more times that day, each time taking your breath away just like the first time. It was all slow and intended to show the other just how much you meaned to each other.

You fell asleep that night completely exhausted. You wrapped yourself around Eddie and he felt sure this was how he would fall asleep for the rest of his life.

You weren’t perfect. Neither of you were. But you didn’t want each other to be perfect- you just wanted you to be yourselves. And you were.

There was a lot to figure out, Too many things you had to discuss and learn about each other. But for now, this was enough.

And when you woke up the next morning, the sunlight hitting your faces from forgetting to shut the curtains, you only pulled the comforter over both do your heads.

Eddie stirred awake and pulled you tighter against him, his arms wrapped around you and you settled back against him, your face in his neck as he rubbed his hands up and down your back, lulling you back to sleep.

thank you so much for reading! <3

taglist @harrys-four-nipples @choke-me-eddie @hbaramas @cardiganquinn @etherealeddie @eddies-girl-22 @tlclick73 @c0untryclub @eddiemunson95 @harrys-tittie @bestofbucky @somethingvicked @emma77645 @bebe0701 @bibieddiesgf @ganjas-shit @corkadymu @digitalhearts @specialsnowflake-gabbi @littlestarfighter03 @mandyjo8719 @hargrovesswifee @eddiesguitarskills @sunnytkm23 @bpj519 @ajeff855 @sebastiansstanswhore @marriedtoeddie @manda-panda-monium @kissmyacdc @tayhar811 @husherstan @teary-eyed-egg @ourautumn86 @whenshelanded @alana4610 @tabloidteen @tobesolovelysstuff @damon-loves-pie @georgiapeaches-world @josephsfavoritegirl @angel-jz @kittenslovie @boinkybarness @sadpetalsstuff @sashaphantomhive @winterton-reads @hermadroyalhiney @loveberrie (i'm sorry if you asked to be on the tag list and you're not here, it got chaotic and i tried my best 🤍)

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

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The Writers: @abibliophobiaa, @blueywrites, @breddiemunson & @myosotisa.

Collaborators: @fracturedarkness, @myosotisa, @blue-mossbird, @breddiemunson & @abibliophobiaa.

(Make sure to follow along with all writers and collaborators, because you never know who might be posting blurbs for upcoming chapters...)

Soulmate!FakeMarriage!AU with Rockstar!Fboy!Eddie and Personal Assistant!Reader

Also Featuring Ronance

Eddie Munson has always cursed fate. Fuck you, fate, he says. I built my own success. You don’t dictate my life. And with dark flashing eyes and a manic smile, he proves his defiance.

Fuck you, fate, he says when the crowd is nothing but five drunks, so he toils and sweats until everyone knows his name.

Fuck you, fate, he says when the ink doesn’t take to his soulmark, so he buries it in black and red til it can’t be seen.

Fuck you, fate, he says when his publicist makes him marry an actress, so his hotel room becomes a revolving door of one night stands.

Fuck you, fate, he says, and Eddie Munson becomes someone who can’t be tamed.

But then you become his assistant. He kicks and claws, spits and sneers, fights til his knuckles go bloody and his nose stings with coke and tears.

In the end, he stops saying it.

18+ only for mature themes and eventual sexual content. Fem!reader, Fake marriage, Period-Typical Homophobia, Soulmate AU, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Angst (with a happy ending)

Shmackin’ Tunes (Playlist)

Hot off the Press! (Prequel Material):

01/ 02/ 03/ 04/ 05/ 06/ 07/

Masterlist: (tag list open) 🏷️

Chapter One: NOW POSTED @blueywrites (9.9k)

Chapter Two: NOW POSTED @abibliophobiaa (9.1k)

Chapter Three: NOW POSTED @blueywrites (15K)

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harrywavycurly · 5 months

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Y’all ever think about the sad reality of Eddie becoming this giant famous rockstar? Like him leaving to go to California to do some demos with a kiss to your lips and a rushed “I love you! See you in a few weeks!” but then a few weeks slowly turns into a few months that turn into what feels like years and all of a sudden the next time you see him is on the cover of a magazine and the last time you remember hearing his voice was during a radio interview you listened to on your way to work a few days ago. And while it breaks your heart knowing he’ll never just be your Eddie ever again because now you have to share him with the world, you can’t help but be happy for him because he’s living his dream even if it means leaving you behind in the process.

#sorry idk why I’m emo at 6:45 in the morning on a Wednesday #eddie munson concept #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #Eddie musnon blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson au #Eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby

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carolmunson · 1 year

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alive with the glory of love

(older!rockstar!eddie x older!actress!wife!)

a valentine's slice of life with our favorite rockstar almost thirty years into our marriage. the year is 2023 and we're still stella rink and we're still famous as hell. aged like fine wine. a decades long career and a decades long marriage with two twins in their late twenties. this is semi from the twins perspective. we know what our life was looking like before, let's see what it looks like now. :) eddie manip by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple cw: 18+ minors dni, allusions to smut/wearing lingerie, but overall this is a short little something. reader and eddie are both 57, so, sorry if you don't want to be fifty seven. but if i have to be in my 'early twenties' every time i read a fic, you can be older for like, seven and a half minutes.

The phone eases into focus, Violet’s giggle sounds as she presses record, leaning on her elbows at the kitchen island. The room is a sun drenched, black and white tiled vision — still partially stuck in the 90s, remnants of your old life, despite the ongoing renovations. Despite the teasing from your adult children. Some stuff just never lost its charm – plus, the kids were calling it ‘a 90s vibe’ and you were both pretty sure that was cool.

“Morning, happy Valentine’s Day,” Violet says sleepily, Van trudging in behind her. They both take lazy seats on the bar stools across from the chef stove that their father is delicately working over.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” Eddie calls over his shoulder, daintily pouring pink batter into a cookie cutter mold on a hot pan. The kitchen and dining room are filled to the brim with flowers and balloons. Eddie’s been up for hours getting everything set up for you, some things never change. Some things never get old.

“What’re you doing?” Van asks.

“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m making mommy—” He turns around with a furrowed brow, deepening his forehead creases before he realizes they’re recording him. He sighs before turning back to his task, “Guys, again with the phone?”

“C’mon dad, they love you!” Violet begs, putting her phone down and shoving it in her sweatshirt pocket, “Van show him the comments on the last one.”

“They think you’re hilarious, they want you to have your own account,” Van encourages, he opens his own phone to bring over to his dad. He grew up to be a spitting image of the two of you, as if they pasted Eddie’s face on his and gave him all your other features. The color of your eyes, the texture of your hair. Your bright, enrapturing smile. A perfect fifty-fifty.

Van scrolls slowly through the endless comments, Eddie squinting down at them, “Van, I don’t have my glasses.”

Eddie peers down lower, “What does that mean? ‘I know it’s big’? What’s big?” “New…choker…just…dropped? I didn’t make chokers for merch,” he shrugs, waving him away to pay attention to the stove. “Ew,” Violet laughs, “Stop making him read these out loud, that’s so gross.”

“You should still make your own,” Van says, sitting back down, “It’d do way better than the one for Corroded.”

“Have your mom do it,” Ed shrugs off, “She knows how to do all that internet shit.”

“That Howard Stern clip is going viral again,” Violet says devilishly, “The girlies are obsessed with you.”

“I don’t care about the girlies, Vi,” Eddie blushes, flipping one of the pancakes on the pan, “I care about your mom.”

“I just wanna show them what you guys do for your favorite holiday,” Violet whines, “They’ll love it.”

“They’re gonna call him a simp,” Van teases, a look of realization washing over his face, “Wait, you’re such a simp for mom, actually.”

They both laugh, Eddie doesn’t know what ‘a simp’ is so he laughs too.

“That’s a good word for like, a DND character type — you should see about that in your campaigns,” Ed continues while he plates a pancake on an ever growing stack of pink and red.

“Ohmygod Dad, no, that’s not—“ Van laughs silently into his hands.

“Stop making fun of him, he’s old,” Violet pleads between giggles, taking her phone out again, “Dad, seriously can you just tell us what you’re doing? Why do you love Valentine’s Day?”

“Is this for your TikTok thing?” he asks, pulling his dark curls up in a ponytail with a black silk scrunchie, bangs he can’t quite part with falling in waves over his brow. ‘My Pilates teacher was telling me they’ll be safer on your hair,’ you’d said — and he’s never been one to say no to you. Every time the kids came home they’d take their phones out and make Tiktok’s of the two of you, sometimes you’d make a solo one for Violet or Van’s page if you felt like it. But with Twitter and Instagram, you didn’t want to overload your assistant with some other form of social media – but it looked like the two of you were really popular. Especially Eddie.

Violet educated you about ‘fancams’ which were just clips to music. There were a lot of the two of you together, or you solo from your movies and shows in the 90s. Progressions of you then and now and how you’re still ‘so hot’ and ‘unproblematic’. Eddie’s almost always started with the clip of him at Howard Stern, jaw ticking while he tried to keep his composure: ‘Excuse the fuck out of me, what did you just say about my wife? Do you wanna lose your fuckin’ teeth?’ The comments were always flooded with a mess of young people losing their shit: ‘god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others’ ‘stopppp he’s obsessed with her’ ‘@vidawn i hope your mom can fight’ ‘@vannywayne @vidawn i’m five years younger than u but i would be a great step dad’ ‘when is someone gonna fight howard stern FOR ME?’ ‘@vannywayne @vidawn they’re thirsting over your dad again’ ‘i’m banging on the walls of my enclosure’ 'ewwww we hate cheaters' ‘i NEED to fuck him’ ‘@vannywayne you look EXACTLY the same’ ‘are they looking for a third?’ 'idgi he looks dirty' ‘they are notttttt making them like him anymore’ ‘not him being old enough to be my father i’m sick’

“Obviously,” she snaps back, rolling his eyes when he starts touching himself up for the camera.

“Should I do a couple of push ups so I look buff or…?” he teases. Violet and Van make a face that puts any face you’ve given him to shame. It’s the only regret he has about having kids with you – all that attitude had to go somewhere.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs, “I’m ready for my close up, Vi.”

“You’re so cheesy, dad. Just be normal for like, five seconds,” Violet huffs, taking out her phone again, “You’re ready?”

“M’ready,” he smiles. “Okay, so, what’re you doing?” Violet asks again.

“I am making pancakes,” he starts, pouring red better into the cookie cutter mold on the pan this time, “In a heart shape, for your mom.”

“How long have you been doing this?” she asks, a smile spreading across her face. It matches her dads. There was no mistaking that Violet was Eddie Munson’s daughter.

“Since we got together, so – the first one was in 1990,” he muttered, flipping the pancake, “I do it every year ‘cause she loves it. They’re strawberry, but they’re pink and red ‘cause I put food coloring in them.”

“Is Valentine’s Day her favorite holiday?”

Eddie grins, “No, her favorite holiday is the fourth of July. Not ‘cause she’s got a boner for America or anything. She just likes fireworks and when I use the grill.” “Is it your favorite holiday?” Van asks this time. Eddie nods, a bright blush pushing up on his face.

“How come?” Violet and Van ask at the same time. Eddie turns the burner off, placing the heaping plate of heart shaped pancakes on the center of the island. He opens the wine cooler on the opposite wall, pulling out a bottle of champagne and two flutes from the top cabinet.

“‘Cause I get to spoil your mom all day,” he smiles, “She deserves it.”

“You spoil her every day,” Van teases, “I can’t think of a more doted on woman on earth than mom.”

“She’s very special,” he shrugs.

“And you do this every year?” Violet asks, zooming in on the pancakes.

“Every year for the past thirty four years, well, minus ninety-two,” he frowns a little, “We had some time apart that year.”

“Still had my chef make them for me though.”

Your voice cuts in from the large arch way connecting to the dining room and Violet pans quickly over to get you in frame.

“Hi mom,” Vi says, “Is this your favorite holiday?”

“No,” you shake your head and laugh, the same laugh he fell in love with, “It’s the fourth of July. C’mon Vi, how long have I been your mom? Do you even know me?” “You’re supposed to be in bed, honey,” Eddie frowns, “You’re ruining the surprise.”

“The surprise that’s older than my kids? How could I forget,” you grin, rounding the island and greeting your husband with a gentle kiss, “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“Happy Valentine’s day, baby,” he murmurs into a second chaste peck, “You’re supposed to let me bring them up to you.”

“My kids are home, I don’t wanna spend all day in bed,” you pout. He pouts back dramatically, tugging on your arm to pull you flush against his chest.

“I thought you loved spending all day in bed with me,” he pushes some of your hair back before resting a palm on your cheek, moving in to kiss you deeply. The scruff on his chin scratches around your mouth but you never care because he still kisses you, he kisses you every day. He’d kiss you all day if you let him. You had too many girlfriends whose ex-husbands were on their third wife and every year they’re more surprised that Eddie is still on his first.

“Okay, I think that’s our cue to leave,” Van says, Violet stops recording. Their faces sour.

“Yeah we don’t want a January ‘94 repeat or anything,” Vi jokes. The twins high five at their own mean reference to your horrific sex tape debacle, but you and Eddie toss them a playful glare.

“Hey, she might be your mother, but she’s my wife,” Eddie warns, hand sneaking down to rest on the small of your back to pull you close to him, “Don’t mess with her.”

“Yeah,” you tease, crossing your arms, “You saw what he did to Howie’s studio. I just gotta say the word.”

“So scary,” Violet rolls her eyes, leaving the kitchen with her twin in tow, “We’re taking the Jeep to get Jamba Juice, do you want anything?”

“My usual,” you answer while Eddie goes to the fridge to get grapefruit juice out of the fridge, “And get daddy’s usual too. Do you want his card? Where’s your card, hun?”

“Wherever you last left it,” he responds, gracefully pouring grapefruit mimosas for the both of you.

“It’s in my purse,” you call out.

“Which one?!” Violet calls back, both of them waiting by the door.

“The pink Kelly!”

“Got it! Do you want anything else?” Van calls out.

“Just uh,” Eddie giggles to himself, tossing you a once over, “Take your time!”

“Gross!” they yell back in unison. Eddie waits for the door to close to pull you back into him, he watches you at first. Brown eyes cascading over the slope of your nose, your cheeks, the crinkles at the edge of your eyes, your smile lines. He looks at you like he’s looking at you for the first time, every time. He looks different, but the same. Dark curls smattered and entwined in silver, a nose ring, a never ending scratch of overgrown stubble. Deep lines on his forehead that exaggerate his already animated features. Lips still full and warm, hands still big and covered in rings. He’s kept his body real tight for fifty-seven, still throwing himself in the gym daily. ‘If I’m gonna be addicted to something now it might as well be like, my cardiovascular health, babe.’ His crows feet make him somehow more attractive, his smile got better with age. He still makes your heart race when he catches your eye from across the room. “You wearing that little red thing I like?” he purrs in your ear. The tie to your robe sliding between his inked fingers.

“Maybe,” your finger trails over a tattoo on his bicep, “Maybe, I got something new for you to see. Maybe it’s black, maybe it’s strappy. Maybe it’s that thing you saw when we went shopping last week.”

“Christ,” he huffs, pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping back over to the counter, “Do you ever stop getting hotter? Eat your breakfast before I bend you over this bar stool.”

“Let’s bring it upstairs like you wanted,” you smile, following him closely to press your hips up against him, “We can get a little messy.”

“Yeah?” he growls, pushing part of your robe away to see a peek of black lace and strappy leather, “Fucking god, Stell.”

“C’mon,” you whisper breathily, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss him again, “They’ll be home soon.”

Some things have changed, some things remain the same. He still fucks you like a rockstar.

#eddie munson rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson fluff #rockstar!eddie fluff #older!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n

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eddiesxangel · 7 months

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Wildflower Pt.2 | Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!Princess Reader

Summary: After your breakup with Eddie, you got everything you’d ever wanted. The career, the success, the fame, but something was still missing.

Cw: no use of y/n reader is referred by pet names. Eddie x Afab girly girl reader, no descriptions of reader is used other than what they are wearing (we like to keep it inclusive in this house) ANGST mentions mental health struggles, prescription medication, alcohol consumption, mentions of weight loss due to mental health issues, mentions of underage drinking, SMUT soft Dom Eddie, daddy kink? FLUFF so much you might wanna vomit lol, pregnancy 👀

WC: 22.5k lol

Read part 1 here

Rain, he wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain. He wanted a brideI was making my own name.Chasing that fame. He stayed the same. All of me changed like midnight.

As you stepped off the stage of the last show of your sold-out stadium tour, the adrenaline rush pulsed through your veins. Happy tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. You have been working your ass off these past four years.

Four Years.

It has been four years since your career took off and hasn’t stopped—four years since your single went number one for thirty-six weeks straight on Billboard 100. Four years since you last saw Eddie. The way you'd left things haunts you to this day.

The first year after the breakup was the hardest. You were nothing but a shell of yourself; you put on a front with everyone. If you let yourself think about Eddie, you wouldn’t have been able to climb out of the hole you had dug yourself out of. You couldn’t muster up the motivation to do anything for yourself when alone. You worked and went home to sleep, wake up and repeat, like a machine.

You stopped going to events you didn’t need to be at. You punish yourself by not allowing yourself to have any fun. You felt like you didn’t deserve it.

You had lost a lot of weight that year, unable to keep anything down. Your body was in severe malnutrition, and your doctor was worried. You were prescribed some medication to help stabilize your moods. You blamed it on stress, that the job was the problem, brushing it off like you would get over it eventually, or at least that is what you told yourself. That was your life the year you and Eddie broke up.

Eventually, as the years went on, you found better ways to cope with the loss of Eddie and Violet Rose in your life. Slowly, you started dating again about a year later, but everything was different from what you experienced with Eddie. You didn’t have that spark you felt with Eddie. But was that real? Or was it all built up?

Seeing Eddie back in the limelight as a single man broke your heart, and seeing him taking out different girls was so painful it made you physically sick. You first saw him out with another woman only two months after you ended things… Did he even really love you? You'd convinced yourself that Eddie must have been caught up with everything that he only thought he was in love with you? And now that you were out of the picture, he realized that it was just lust, nothing more... because how did it only take two months until he was out with another woman?

The hardest part about this was avoiding him at all the award shows and parties. Your worlds were intertwined, your label was the same, your career had taken off after the breakup, and you were invited to more Hollywood events. It was difficult when you knew he was in the room with you, especially with another girl by his side.

You were still so desperately in love with him after all this time…

It was never the same girl; he was back to his old ways, sleeping around with anyone who got the chance. But luckily, you never ran into him because the second you got word he was there, you were gone, making your last memory of him when he walked out of the door in Italy. You had shattered his heart. Broke it into a million pieces, or so you thought. He told you he was in love with you, and you couldn’t say it back. Year after year, things started to get easier; once the tabloids got bored about the breakup and Eddie was seen with different women, the focus was no longer on you. You had thrown yourself into your songs.

Your songs became #1 hits less than a week after each release. You had been that good, a bit too good. Your work was the only thing you let yourself focus on. Everything had to be great, or all of this would have been for nothing. The more writing you did, the more focused you were on your music and the less time you had to think about Eddie. That was the whole point of the breakup, right? Because you used Eddie only to help your career…

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Life for Eddie Munson over the past four years had been the worst of his entire life, and he once had been addicted to coke. He did not expect his early forties would be so…depressing. When you had ended things with him, he never felt that kind of earth-shattering heartbreak before, not when his second try at passing his senior year didn’t pan out, not when Sarafina left him alone with their baby, and not when his parents abandoned him.

He was too stubborn to grovel; you had told him that you clearly were just doing this for yourself. He had let his emotions get in the way; it was all his fault. He saw that now. He knew that you loved him back, but he was scorned. He wouldn’t be the one to reach out. The story was out; nothing more could be done. He didn’t have the heart to give up the ring he had bought for you. Night after night, Eddie would sit up and stare at it. He hugged your pillow because your scent lingered in the room until one day, it was gone.

One morning, a few weeks after the breakup, Eddie was awakened to the sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafting through the house; for a split second, he thought you had returned to him. He ran downstairs looking for you, but reality hit like a brick when he followed the scent to the kitchen to see Vi had ordered Cinnabon to the house. She offered him his share, thinking it would cheer him up, but it had only made Eddie nauseous. He could no longer stomach the sweet smell that reminded him of you.

Longing for you to be by his side, he cried night after night, hating himself for feeling so pathetic and unwanted. That’s how his whole life was; he should have known better. His parents didn’t want him, and the mother of his child didn’t want him, so what would make you any different?

Your breakup not only affected Eddie’s life but also Violet Rose’s. Scorned by how you never even said goodbye, she was hurt. She begged Eddie to let her talk to you, but Eddie refused to speak your name. Your music no longer brought her joy; only waves of sadness washed over her when she heard you on the radio. She couldn’t escape; you haunted her just as much as you haunted Eddie.

Violet Rose felt the change in her father when he got back from his vacation in Italy. She was so excited to see him; she missed the both of you profoundly, but when she greeted her dad when he returned, she could sense something was off. When she went to let off her hug, and he didn't, she knew. She could feel how tense he was, how tightly he held onto her. The way he almost let a tear slip and the sniffle he made in her ear gave it away. He hadn't reacted like this when he was away from her for months on tour the year prior. When he finally let go of her, she needn't ask. She knew his eyes were bloodshot and swollen; he wasn't bubbly and didn't hum anymore. She knew her father's heart wasn't the same.

The older Vi got, the more she resented her father for not ever letting her know who her birth mother was. On top of that, she wasn’t allowed to talk about you. She didn’t understand why because Eddie never explained what happened. All she knew was that before he left for Italy, he had asked her if it would be okay if you were to be in their lives permanently. He showed her the pink diamond ring. The ring that to this day still sits in Eddie’s bedside table drawer. She had found it a few weeks back while trying to find the weed she knew her dad had hidden somewhere when he caught her smoking by the pool.

That was the last straw for Violet Rose. Violet Rose no longer cared about consequences after seeing the reminder of why their lives had changed so dramatically. You didn’t, so why should she? You made her think that you never cared. How could you be so cruel to just leave her? You were going to be her Mom. She had believed that she was finally going to get a mother; the one thing she craved the most her whole life was ripped out from under her.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Tonight was the night of a new club opening, and Roger ensured you were on the VIP list, not that it took much convincing for you to go. You wanted to get dolled up and have some fun with your girlfriends. You pre-gamed and got ready at your best friend Serena's house tonight.

Over the last few months, you've been feeling much better, finally getting out of the house for more than just work. You started seeing your friends more than twice a year, attending dinners and events with them. You were also being weaned off of your medication because your Dr. decided that your mind and body were going back to your old self, and you insisted you were feeling better.

"Tonight we are finding you a man!” you announced as you blended the pink blusher onto your cheek.

"Me? How about you, Ms. Chronically single?" she laughed, sipping her drink that smelled like gasoline. All you could do was roll your eyes. It had become easier thinking about Eddie, but it was still a sore subject you didn't speak of much.

"Oh, don't be like that; it was a million years ago," she giggled. The alcohol Serena was downing played a part in being so bold to bring it up. She had met you two years after the breakup; she didn’t know the whole story but knew it was terrible. Nobody knew the story but your parents and Eddie.

“Fine, tonight I will be reckless and throw all caution to the wind." You took a shot of tequila. The burn was quickly chased by the taste of lime. A loud cheer came from your best friend and twirled you around her bedroom. Laughing, you told her you needed her help picking out an outfit. You both decided on the strappy open-back hot pink silk minidress that made you feel like ten million bucks and your hot pink Louis Vuitton heels that matched the exact colour of the dress. Fitting for a Club named The Red Bottom’s.

Tonight, you felt like you needed to celebrate, wondering what you were celebrating, maybe because you made it out alive? Becoming yourself again? All the hard work you've put in the past four years? You didn't know... what you did know was tonight you were having fun.

Walking into the dimly lit club named The Red Bottom’s you could feel the beat of the music pulse through your veins as you watched the different colours light up the dance floor. It was packed already, and it was only midnight. You grabbed your friend's hand and dragged her to the bar. Ordering your shots, you pull out your wallet, but the bartender stops you. "Already covered" He nodded his head over to the other end of the bar, and you both made eye contact with two guys.

From what you could tell, they were about your age, tall, fit, typical Hollywood, and so not your type. Serena grabbed your hand and pulled you over. You checked your phone to see where the rest of your group was, and they told you they had a booth on the left side of the club.

"Thanks for the drinks." Serena batted her eyes and smiled as you stood by. They introduced themselves; their names were Patrick and Ray. The more you stood with them, the more antsy you got about wanting to get with the rest of the group.

"Love the new song, by the way." Your head snaps up from your phone, and you give the guy talking a small smile. "Thanks." Great, just another try-hard trying to get into your pants. Trying hard not to roll your eyes, you look to Serena and let her know you're joining the rest of the group.

Finally breaking through the sea of people on the dance floor, you made your way to the booth tucked away in the back corner. A slew of cheers filled your ears as you approached your friends.

Serena returned to the booth five minutes later with the two guys on her tail.

"You promised me," She whispered, climbing up to you.

"I did promise you, but I didn't promise it would be with one of these two.” You nodded your head in the men’s direction. Serena gave you an annoyed huff.

"Ok, look, you know that none of them are even my type; you have all the fun you want! Hell, take them both.” You giggled. “I will still be scouting." With that, she laughed and told you to go have a fun time. As you settled with your drink, she went to the dance floor.

You didn't take long to rejoin Serena for a dance after you finished your cocktail. Scouting the crowd for a man didn’t take much either; being who you are and being in the hottest new club, it didn’t take long for you to find a guy. Your newfound confidence radiated from you, and you spotted him across the room. The epitome of tall, dark and handsome. If you were to look it up in the dictionary, this man’s picture would be there. His rugged, rough edges had you hooked the moment your eyes met. Biting your lip, you wiggled your finger to get him to come to you. It had been so long since you last danced with someone like this. You were excited, and it felt good. This man towered over you, feeling his body swallow you, and he ground his hips against yours. Serena gave you a wink of approval; all she wanted was for you to have fun and let go.

It felt like you had been dancing for hours. You needed a break and another drink, so you returned to the booth. As you try to make your way back, not looking like baby Bambi holding on to a tall, dark, and handsome man, you discover his name is Maddox; you accidentally bump into someone.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!'" You turn to apologize.

“Watch where you are going, Bitch” she slurred over the music.

“Excuse you?” You turn to get a good look at who it is, and you feel your heart in your throat. You look like you have seen a ghost as all the blood from your face drains. You drop Maddox’s hand and bring it up to your mouth. There she was. Four years since she saw you last. However, you would know that face from anywhere.

Violet Rose was staring at you. Dumbfounded. Her big brown doe eyes go wide, still precisely like her father’s, at the realization of who you are, and then her face drops into more of a scowl. Looking confused, the much older man standing beside her wraps his arm around her protectively.

You instinctively grab her hand to pull her away. “Hey, get your hands off of her,” The guy yells over the loud bass. He is definitely your age or older.

“I’ll let you know she is sixteen,” you scowl. The guy's hand shoots up off of Violet, and he practically runs away from the both of you.

“How dare you! How could you do this to us?!” She screamed, finally breaking.

“I’m trying to protect you!” It was so hard to yell over the music.

“Not him!” She flails her arms in the creep's direction. “To me and Dad!”

She was causing a scene, and you didn’t know what to do; your emotions took over, and you wrapped your arms around the little girl your heart yearned for.

“I am so sorry, baby. Please forgive me?” You broke, you missed her and her father so much. Even though you weren’t her mother, you were the closest thing she had for a little while. You’re not sure how long you’re hugging her, crying, in the middle of a nightclub when the reality of where you were clicked in.

"What the hell are you even doing in here?! We are leaving!” You were furious; how on earth was she let into a club? When the fuck did she grow up to become a woman? And how was she allowed to leave the house dressed like this? You didn’t even own stilettos that high.

Violet Rose felt all the blood drain from her face. She was in so much trouble.

“Your father know where you are?” You arched your brows at her.

“Poppy, look, don’t tell my Dad! Please? I’ll go home right now, I swear,” She begged.

“Absolutely not, get.” You pointed towards the exit and called Tony to bring your car to the front. You didn’t even say goodbye to Serena or Tall, dark and handsome; you just beelined the both of you to the door.

You stop by the club promoter and bouncers outside as you exit the club. “I don’t know what kind of place you think you are running, but letting in a sixteen-year-old?!” You yell, drawing attention to yourself. Even though it was two in the morning, there were still paps all around, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars entering and exiting The Red Bottoms. The flashing lights were blinding, but you couldn't care less at this moment.

“I'm going to sue this place! I should call the cops for letting in minors! Better yet, I’ll tell her father! Do you know who her father is? Eddie Munson, that’s who!” You shoved your pointer finger into the chest of the club promoter and looked at you blankly.

When you turned, you saw Violet Rose standing there, embarrassed at the commotion you had just made. She looked so small as you walked back over to her; even though she had grown into a beautiful young woman, she was starting to look like her mother. The mother she never got a chance to get to know. You wondered if she knows now that she is older?

“Get in the car.” You point at your pink G Wagon.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.” She hugs her arms around herself.

“Nice try, in.” You were not falling for this act; you had been sixteen once, too.

“What about your guy?” She asked, deflecting.

“What guy?” You totally forgot about Tall Dark and Handsome.

“You were with a guy when I bumped into you and-”

“And called me a bitch?” You finished her sentence. “I don’t know. I met him half an hour ago.” You brushed it off.

“Oh, so you’re not with anyone?” You saw a hint of sparkle in her eye.

“Violet Rose get. in. the. car.” You are not having this conversation with her right now surrounded by paps.

“Fine.” Violet Rose got into the car. A small part of her was happy to see you again; she just wished they were in different circumstances.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Eddie jolted awake in a cold sweat; his heart sank as he glanced at the clock that read 2:47 a.m. He knew something was wrong as he jumped out of bed, not bothering to put on pants, running out of his room in only his underwear and rushed to Violet Roses's room. He opened the door to see that her window was open and she wasn’t there.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit” He had a guttural instinct that VR wasn’t here, but he had to check everywhere.

He first checked her bathroom to see if she had gotten up. She begged him to stay home with her tonight because she was sick. He was supposed to attend a club opening tonight, but how could he leave his Cupcake? Especially when she gave him the puppy dog eyes? They may not have been getting along recently, but he still was the biggest pushover when it came to her.

They had a good night, other than the fact that she was sick; it was like old times. They curled up on the couch and watched movies; he made her soup, and they enjoyed one another’s company. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time. It made Eddie realize that it was too long; he had been moping around for too long and needed to change, or he would lose VR forever.

Eddie frantically ran to every other room of the house, calling out her name when he didn’t find her in the bathroom. He was shaking with panic.

Eddie went back to his bedroom to check his phone to see if he missed any calls or texts, but not one was from Violet Rose or about her. Where the fuck was she? As he calls her phone repeatedly, he runs outside to see if she is out there. Ring after ring, the phone goes to voicemail. He had reached the end of the driveway behind the gate that was still closed. His heart skipped a beat when he saw two headlights of a bubblegum pink G Wagon pulling up to the gates of his estate. He instinctively knows that gaudy thing has to belong to you.

With a deep breath, Eddie opened the gate. The driver slowly pulled up and got out to open the door. Violet Rose is the first to step out and Eddie feels like he can breathe again. She is home, and she is safe. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, but all that relief washes away the second he sees you step out of the car behind her.

He can feel the anxiety shooting through his arms to the tips of his fingers. He doesn’t understand what is happening. Was Violet Rose hanging out with you behind his back? Was she trying to get back at him? Why would his baby be with you? And why was his baby dressed like that?!

“Start talking” is all Eddie manages to get out through his teeth. His hands balled up into fists, trying to regulate his breathing.

You open your mouth to start to explain what happened, but the sight of Eddie standing there in his boxers, chest heaving, you get too overwhelmed at the sight. There is no denying that your attraction to Eddie is still there. You had been mesmerized by the way he looked; his crow's feet were a bit more defined, he was accepting his silver hairs coming in, his skin was pebbled with goosebumps as it was early spring in the middle of the night, and he was practically naked. He was still just as fit, maybe even more so, fuck he made 44 look good. So you stand there with your mouth agape, gawking at him like a moron, until Violet Rose cuts in.

“Hi, Daddy,” it had come out so meek.

“Don’t hi, Daddy. WHERE WERE YOU?” he belted. His face was beat red. You had never seen or heard Eddie so mad, not even on that dreaded day.

“I found her at the Red Bottom's,” You cut in, giving some slack for Violet Rose.

“The Red Bottom's? THE RED BOTTOM'S!” It hits him: the new club downtown that he was supposed to attend tonight for the grand opening but didn’t attend because Vi was “sick” and needed to take care of her.

“Inside now.” He was seething, pointing towards the house. Things did not look good for VR. You took that as your cue to leave as you saw her sulk off to the house with her head down. Turning back to the car, you think to yourself this was it. This was your only chance to see him again, and you stood there like a brainless zombie, just ogling him.

“I didn’t dismiss you.” You stop mid-stride and turn slowly as his deep voice filters through your ears.

“Excuse me?” You question, slowly turning back around.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie was still seething.

“What am I doing?” You countered back.

“Violet Rose is sneaking off to be with you behind my back! How long has this been going on!?” He accused.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Eddie?” Hearing his name leave your lips was like a gut punch.

“This is all your fault!” He accused again.

“Oh, this is my fault?! How is this my fault? You’re lucky I spotted her and dragged her ass home! You don’t even want to know who she was with when I found her! You’re lucky I did because if I hadn’t, she would still be there doing god knows what with who knows what!” You got in his face. How dare he accuse you of bringing harm to her! You love that kid more than life like she is your own.

“You know what?!” He counters back.

“What?!” You yell.

What Eddie did next was something so unexpected that it caught you off guard.

“Thank you.” He pulled you into a bear hug. “I was so scared; I didn’t know where she was.” He confessed in a whisper because you were right. Who knows what could have happened to his baby? He was so distraught and mad about the past, but you put his family first after all these years.

“Eddie, I am so sorry. For everything.” You whisper, finally reciprocating the hug by latching your arms around him. He still smelled the same; it brought comfort, wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you never wanted to leave.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” He shook his head, releasing you. In his fit of rage, he didn’t get to take you in. Fuck. You were more beautiful to him than memories served.

“No, Eddie. I mean for everything.” You looked down, ashamed that you let things go this far.

“Oh. I am sorry, too.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I uh, fuck - I’ll always love you, and uh and Violet. You know that? Right?” You look up at him with glassy eyes, tears threatening to break free. The words he prayed to hear for the past four years finally left your lips. He didn’t know what to think or say. “And I still- shit. I’m sorry you don’t want me- I’m going to go.” You turn, but Eddie catches your forearm to pull you back into him.

“I let you leave once; don’t for a second think that I am going to let you go again.”

Not giving it a second thought, Eddie crashed his lips into yours, and everything fell back into place at that moment. The missing puzzle piece had been found and restored back into its space.

“Angel, I am still so in love with you; you’re my entire world. Always have been. Always will be.” He mumbled against your mouth. Eddie could no longer be mad at you; he would not waste another moment on being angry and sad. The last few years of his life were full of it, and he was ready to let that all go because here you are, telling him you love him.

“I’m so sorry, Baby.” You let your tears finally slip past your lashes.

The closure you had been craving was no longer gnawing at your mind. Eddie loves you and never has stopped long you. You had wasted so much time being sad and lonely. But could it really just be that easy? He would accept you back just like that? So much time has passed, and you are not the same people from four years ago.

“So what now?” You asked, pulling back.

“You’re mine.” Eddie pulled you back in to kiss you; he had so much lost time to make up for.

“Eddie, I- what about everything? Do you even trust me? I wouldn’t trust me…” You looked down as the feeling of shame washed over you. You were so stupid for letting him go.

“Angel, look at me.” He hooked a finger under your chin. No one has called you that name since you left Eddie. Hearing it made your stomach erupt with butterflies. “We will have to work on things, but I am not ever letting you go. I won’t survive if I have to lose you again. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your eyes widen as the words slip past your lips. It was instinct to address him that way.

“That's my good girl” He gave a cocky smirk and leaned in to kiss you. He couldn’t get enough; his lifeline had been restored. All of the sadness within him was being plucked away with each brush of your lips.

Sure, you and Eddie had a lot to work on, but Eddie didn’t care. He had his girl back, his Angel. Things wouldn’t return to normal immediately; he knew that… you knew that. Eddie thought about how he would have to cancel the “date” he had set up for tomorrow as you gave him a last kiss goodbye. Watching you get back into the car was hard, but then he remembered that he had to deal with VR. What the fuck was this night turning into?

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you.” Eddie walked back into the house to see Violet Rose sitting on the staircase.

“Daddy, do you think?” She was hopeful that what she saw through the window could lead to something more. Something that could bring her family back together.

“Don’t change the subject.” His head was spinning; he didn’t need to discuss his love life with his sixteen-year-old right after she had snuck out of the house.

“No phone, no TV, no internet, no going out. You go to school, and you come home. That is final.”

“What?! That’s so unfair. For how long?!” She cried.

“Until I say so. Phone, now.” He held out his hand, and she reluctantly placed it on his palm.

“Don’t you dare ever scare me like that again?! Got it! Now apologize.” He commanded.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, but I’m not sorry for sneaking out tonight.” She smirked.

“Excuse you?” Eddie was shocked.

“If I hadn’t gone out tonight, she wouldn’t have brought me home, and you wouldn’t have that stupid smile on your face.”

“What stupid smile?” Eddie scowled just to prove a point.

“Nice try, old man, can’t fool me; I saw you walking up the driveway.” Violet Rose laughed as she made her way up the stairs. Maybe her punishment wouldn’t be so bad if her dad was finally happy again.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The next day, you had been flooded with missed calls from Roger, and the press had a feel day with your little outburst, all of it being caught on TMZ, of course.

“Sweetheart, what did you do?” You could no longer avoid the sixth call from him.

“Look, Rog, I had a lot of alcohol, and Violet Rose was there; she is only sixteen. What was I supposed to do?-”

“Nothing,” Roger cut in.

“Absolutely not. I have morals, Roger.” You could just picture how he was sitting at his desk, pinching his brows because you knew you were giving him a headache.

“Look, everyone is going to be poking around, thinking you and Munson are back together. Now I know that contract has ended an-”

“We are back together,” you cut him off. There was a few seconds of silence because he needed to process what you had just said.

“What?” He asked.

“I said Eddie and I are back together. For real, no contracts, no bullshit.” You couldn’t get the stupid grin off of your face if you had tried.

“Oh, well, um, wow, this is unexpected; I’m so happy for you!"

“Really?” Your voice went up an octave.

“Of course, sweetheart, this is excellent news; I have been worried about you; something in you changed, and you tried to cover it up, but I know you… and also will bring up more publicity. Everyone loves it when couples get back together! Look at J-Lo and Affleck; no one could stop talking about them for weeks!”

“Well, I guess this whole nightclub thing will blow over?” You wince, biting your thumb.

“Should be fine; when are you announcing your relationship? How long has it been?” Roger questioned.

“Oh, um, well, it just happened last night, so let's give it a few weeks and see how things play out…” fuck, this was not supposed to be another publicity stunt.

“Understandable. I’ll contact you in a few days to see what’s happening, OK? Kisses”

“Bye Rog” You hung up the phone to see Eddie was calling you.

Eddie asked you to meet up with him today and go on a walk to clear up things. You felt an overwhelming sense of being home when he opened his door. He was still in the same house, and it looked like only a little visually had changed over the years.

Eddie greeted you with a hug and a kiss that lingered for a while. The familiarity of his lips on yours gave you an overwhelming sense of comfort. He made you feel at home.

Eddie took your hand and closed the door behind him, ready to go.

You just walked through the neighbourhood, having it be a gated community; no one would bother the two of you.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Same, but I’m happy that it is.” Eddie brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of your hand.

“I don’t really know where to begin…” you trailed off, looking out at the California skyline.

“Let’s start off with how have you been?” Eddie genuinely asked.

“Honestly, I’ve been doing much better than I had been over the last few years. I was in an awful place after it all happened. I wanted to talk with you badly but knew you hated me.” You looked down at your shoes, still ashamed about how you left things.

“I could never hate you, Angel. I was stubborn and so hard-headed that I refused to grovel. But I regret every day that passed that I didn’t try to get you back.” Eddie admitted.

“Really?” You look at him with shock. You had convinced yourself that Eddie was never in love with you that the thought of him being heartbroken escaped your mind.

“Of course, Angel. Don’t you remember where I was taking you when… uh-”

“When I ran away…. Yeah, I remember. But I convinced myself that it was just... I don't know? lust…”

“Hmmm,” that caught Eddie off guard. What could he have done to make you think he wasn’t being raw and honest with you?

Eddie debated whether he should tell you about the ring as you walked in uncomfortable silence. He decided against it; he felt it wouldn’t be right.

“I never asked how you have been?” You look to Eddie as he is lost in thought.

“Bad. No sense in lying to you. I’m sure Vi will tell you eventually.” He sighed.

Your heart dropped at his confession. He seemed to be doing well. He was the hottest bachelor at the moment.

“I feel like a broken record, but I’m truly sorry, Eddie. I was such a mess after everything, and I thought you hated me, so I couldn’t talk to you, and it got so bad I couldn’t get out of bed. My doctor put me on meds because I literally didn’t want to do anything, and I missed you and Violet Rose so bad! I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Not to make this about me, but I just wanted to let you know my decision was wrong, and I hated myself daily. And I will try my best to make it up to both of you. I promise I’ll never leave you like that ever again…. That's if you’ll have me.”

“Your doctor put you on medication?” He looked at you with concern.

“Ugh, yeah. I’m slowly coming off of them now; it’s been about two months. I’m feeling a lot better.” You admit

“Jesus Angel. You should have told me! I would have done anything for you, you know that, right?” He said as he pulled you into a hug.

“I do now,” you whisper.

“And I’m sorry as well. I should have never yelled at you like that. I felt awful the second I left you standing there alone in that big empty house… I sold it, by the way… I couldn’t go back. The memories were too… sour.” He looked down to his chest.

“Well, I can’t stomach Italian food anymore… makes me sick even thinking about it.” You admit with a shudder, trying to lighten the mood.

“And I can’t eat Cinnamon Rolls anymore because of you,” he admits.

You look at him quizzically.

“Reminded me too much of your perfume… it uh… made me sick whenever I smelled vanilla and cinnamon.” He shrugged

You looked at him with such sorrow. The both of you were so fucked up by what happened. How could you ever work through this? There was so much hurt to overcome.

“Enough about the past. We are on the same page. We have years to make up for.” Eddie brought your lips to him for a gentle kiss. You wanted so badly to deepen the kiss, but you were in the middle of the suburbs, and any stay-at-home mom desperate for gossip could clock the two of you in a second.

Eddie pulled away, and you made your way back to his place. Once you arrived, Eddie invited you inside.

“So where is the little criminal?” You asked, entering the living room. Memories flood back to when you would have sleepovers and make forts and Disney movie marathons.

“Present.” She came waltzing through from the kitchen.

“Hi Vi,” you walk over to her to embrace her in a hug. It shouldn’t have surprised you when she didn’t hug you back.

“I’m so sorry for how I left things, but I don’t know how much your dad told you?” You look to Eddie and see him shake his head no. “I, uh, I think you are old enough to know some details?” You and Eddie discussed on your way back home that VR also had to be on board for this to work. She had to know the truth.

“Come sit, Cupcake.” Eddie patted the couch cushion next to him.

You and Eddie then explained how, at first, the entire thing was a sham, but you ended up falling for one another in the end, but things had to break off because of the contract.

“You’re joking?” That was Violet Rose’s first response.

“Unfortunately not,” You speak up.

“That is the most fucked up and stupid thing I think I’ve ever heard.” she rolled her eyes.

“Hey, language. Don’t make me extend your punishment.” Eddie pointed to her.

“I’m sorry, but you’re telling me I am supposed to believe you two broke up because of a piece of paper?” She stares dumbfounded.

“Well, yeah, that’s what happened…” Eddie shifted his gaze to you.

“And you didn’t think to... I don't know? SNEAK AROUND?!” She flailed her arms in the air.

“Uh… no, actually, that never crossed my mind.” Eddie looked at you, and you shrugged.

“You don’t get it. Cupcake things were not that black and white; it was complicated.”

“Whatever, can I go to my room now?” She rolled her eyes.

“Fine, go.” Eddie sighed.

“Don't worry, she will come around eventually. She was excited last night and started questioning if we would be back together.” Eddie smirked.

That made you feel better; you would hate for Violet Rose not to see you in the same light as before.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

A month passed, and yours and Eddie’s schedules conflicted. You were recording your new album, and Eddie was busy with the band. Nothing had been coordinated until today, your first official date, and you told Eddie you were planning the whole thing because it was the least you could do for him.

You drove to Eddie’s house mid-afternoon to pick him up.

“Absolutely not.” As you pulled up in your baby pink vintage convertible Cadillac, he shook his head. Eddie Munson may be a sim, however, he still has an image to keep up with. He would not be seen being chauffeured in a pink car, especially by his woman. He was old school, and he would be the one driving them.

“What do you mean?” You pout. God, he was such a sucker for that face you pull, but he would stand his ground.

“I’m driving,” Eddie stated plainly.

“But I’m the one treating you.” You state.

“Don’t care. Not going in that gaudy thing.” He crossed his arms.

You roll your eyes as you unwillingly step out of the car.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that.” His tone was serious, but his eyes said otherwise as he took your hand and kissed the top of it.

“Hi, Princess.” He smiled

“Hi, Baby.” Everything felt right again like nothing had changed.

“Just tell me where we are going.” Eddie walked around to the passenger side to open the door for you. You ignored his request as you got into his black Bentley Continental. You punched the address into the GPS and were on your way.

“Le Labo?” Eddie questions when you arrive at the destination.

“It’s a custom perfumery. Since you said you can’t stomach mine anymore, I called and made an appointment to make one for each other?” You bite your nails in anticipation. Did he hate the idea? Was it too boring?

“This is not what I was expecting at all, Angel, but this is really cool.” he pulled you into his side as you walked into the building.

After smelling all the smells and finally deciding on a concoction for one another, your perfumes were complete, and you could take them home. For Eddie’s, you choose notes of nutmeg, white musk, and jasmine. You named his Dungeon Master. Eddie picked a more floral scent for yours with notes of tuberose, jasmine, and tonka bean and called it Angel Wings. He made you wear it as soon as you stepped out of the perfumery.

The next stop for your date was your house. Eddie had never been to your home. You managed to buy one two years ago and were able to sell your condo. You were happy to have a new space, one with happy memories.

You managed to snag a bungalow in Bel-Air for just under five million. It needed some updating, so you’ve been slowly making renovations. It was almost done to your liking; you just had to finish up the guest bathroom, and then it would be perfect.

The whole house was very you. In the kitchen was your favourite part of the home. The cabinets and countertops were white, and the backsplash, appliances, and cookware were all pink. The house was an open concept, which you loved; it was very light and airy with little clutter, but it looked homey. It's very much the exact opposite of Eddie’s interior decor. There were floor-to-ceiling windows all over that let in a lot of natural light. You had a massive sectional in the living room that you often fell asleep on because it was that comfortable. Your favourite part of the house was the living room that opened into the back patio, which led into the pool. Your garden was lush and complete; a giant hedge that acted as a privacy wall surrounded the yard so no one could see in. It was your own little piece of paradise.

“I didn't know you moved?” Eddie asked, pulling into your driveway.

“How could you’ve?” Even though the two of you had made up, the wounds were still fresh. You didn’t mean anything by your comment, but you sensed it irked Eddie.

“I’m sorry-

“Angel, if you apologize one more time,” he gives you a look of warning before stepping out of the car and running over to your side.

Some things never change.

“So what is next on the schedule?” Eddie asked as he followed you into your home.

“Thought I could cook you dinner.” You smile as you lead the both of you into the kitchen.

You hear Eddie chuckle behind you.

“What?” You turn, arms crossed, to see him examining your space.

“I expected nothing less from you.” He chuckled as he pulled you into him by the waist.

Eddie leaned down to kiss you. This was the first kiss you shared since reuniting almost four weeks ago. You lean into it as you uncross your arms to wrap them around the back of his neck. The kiss was tentative at first, nothing but a small peck. Eddie tested the waters as he slowly leaned into you, but you needed more. You pressed into Eddie, raising your tiptoes to press yourself fully into him. He got the hint as his strong hands slipped from your jaw and cascaded down past your waist to grip your ass. A moan slipped from your lips as he massaged his hands into you.

“Fuck, I missed your noises,” Eddie spoke into your mouth.

“Mmhmm” you hummed.

“I need you, Angel.” Eddie rubbed his hardening length into your lower abdomen.

“What about dinner?” You pant into his open mouth.

“I’ve waited long enough for you; dinner can wait.” Eddie pushed you back into the kitchen counter, and you took no time tugging at the bottom of his shirt, frantically lifting it over his head. You latch your mouth where his neck meets his collar, nipping and biting until you’ve marked your territory. Eddie whimpered as your hand grazed over the tent his hardened bulge created. Never had Eddie whined like this just from your touch. Eddie froze, unsure what was happening; his body had never reacted this way with anyone.

“Baby, you ok?” You whispered into his ear as your hand moulded around the thick shaft. There was a shift in the air; Eddie was at your mercy. He didn’t even correct you when you didn’t call him Sir. He nodded and swallowed hard. His heart was racing, his muscular chest was heaving up and down as you delicately traced your hands up to the button of his black trousers.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me. I-I-” he shakes his head in a daze.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay, baby, I’ll take care of you.” It’s the least you could do for him. You slide down to your knees, cadged between the kitchen cabinets and your boyfriend. You unzip his pants, and he shimmies out of them as fast as he can. Your mouth waters as Eddie's naked frame towers over you. His thick thighs flex as you run the tips of your long red nails over his flesh. You can see the defined muscle of his legs tighten as you get closer to the apex.

“Tell me what you want baby.” You graze your glossy lips over the underbelly of his shaft up to the silver ball of his piercing that you craved when you were all alone in the middle of the night.

“You,” he whispers as he cups your cheek with his right hand.

“What part of me do you want, Eddie?” You look up at him with eyes glazed with lust.

It’s been so long that you remember the first time you were on your knees for him. The thrill of the memory brings butterflies to your stomach.

“All of you.” Eddie pants.

“Uh-uh, naughty boy. Don’t get greedy,” you smirk as you slowly run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Your mouth, Angel. Gimme your mouth. Please.” The anticipation broke when your mouth engulfed his long thick cock into your mouth, wholly.

You tried your best to fit as much of him as you could. Did he get bigger over the past four years? No? That’s not possible? But you felt so full that you're memory failed you as you tried to get him all down your throat. You came back up in a gasp of air. A string of saliva connected your lips to his tip. You stroked your hand up and down the long shaft. Memorizing each vein as you did. You went back down, and that whimper came back.

Oh, the lovely little whine coming from Edie’s mouth was making your pussy flutter. You were starting to understand why he loved your moans and whimpers. Hearing them only made your arousal pool in your panties.

“Please, baby, I need you. I need you so bad.” Having Eddie begging for you was also a new experience that unlocked something in your brain. In all aspects of the term, this larger-than-life man at your mercy was turning you on in ways you never thought possible. You didn’t let up; you worked your tongue around his tip, then slid him back down your throat again.

“FUCK angel, please I don’t think I can last long. I need to fuck you, baby. Please let me fuck you; let me feel that pretty little pussy.” He was begging, and you were thriving. However, the need for him to fill you was becoming greater than the feeling he was giving you when he was begging, so you let up. With a pop, you let his throbbing member out of your mouth. Eddie hiked you up off the floor and started to strip you down as fast as he could.

“Where do you want me?” he asked as he kissed down your neck. He let a finger trail up your sticky inner thighs.

“Don’t care,” you shake your head.

“Bedroom?” He looks over his shoulder down the hall to where he assumes your room is.

“No time.” You turn so you’re bent over the kitchen countertop.

“Always so ready for me.” Eddie swiped a single digit up your wet slit.

“Fuck me, fuck me hard,” you pleaded.

“Yes, ma’am,” you heard the smirk in his voice.

Eddie tugged your hair as he pulled your head to the side so he could kiss you, it was sloppy and wet, so much tongue, but it didn’t matter when you felt the tip of his cock run up and down your folds. The metal ball of his ring was cool against your hot clit. Your body shivered as it brushed against you before slipping past your entrance. You pushed your body back into Eddie so he could fill you as fast as possible.

Eddie’s grip on your hair tightened as he yanked your head back so you were arching into him. The leverage he had using your head as a vice to slam into you over and over. His other hand explored your chest, harshly gripping your breast. You’re sure his fingertips will be scorched into your skin forever.

“Fuck I missed this pussy” he growled into your ear as his hot breath cascaded over your skin. The room was full of the wet sound of Eddie pounding into you. His harsh thrusts didn’t slow as he fucked himself into you. He pulled out entirely, and you cried at the loss of him.

“Just needed to taste you.” You felt his hands spread apart your cheeks. His warm tongue replaced his cock, travelling its way from one hole to the other. A feral moan left your lungs, and before you knew it, he was back hovering over you, guiding his cock back where it belonged.

“Nobody compares to you” his praises didn't match his movement; if you hadn’t known any better, you swore he was hate fucking you right now… and maybe he was? He had years of pent-up feelings about you.

“This is my pussy understand? It belongs to me and only me,” his grip finally left your hair as his hand slid down to your throbbing clit.

“Yes, Sir.” You cried as his fingertips made contact.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“I’m yours, baby. I am yours,” you spoke after each thrust up into you.

“Fuck I love you so much; tell me you love me. I need to hear it.” Eddie’s thrusts hadn’t let up; you were a bit shocked by the stamina; even your legs were about to give out.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” You chanted like a mantra. The feeling in your lower stomach was forming. Eddie kissed down the side of your neck; the butterflies were starting with each circle of his fingers, each harsh bite and nip at your neck, each thrust hitting you so deep, the spot you’d been so desperate to get to but no matter how many times you tried on your own you just couldn’t.

“I’m cumming!” Your body trembled, your pussy clenched down so hard you knew your body would soar in a few minutes.

“Shit, I’m close. Tell me how much you want me.” He spoke through his teeth.

“Please, Sir! Fill me, I want you so bad,” you cry.

“You want this cum baby? Do you want me to pump my load into you? That it? You want me to make you mine?” Eddie growled.

“Yes!” You nod.

After only a few more thrusts, Eddie came not long after you, pumping his load into you further and further until he slipped out of you. You collapse your body onto your kitchen counter as Eddie hangs his body weight over you, caging you in.

“Baby, you ok?” You feel Eddie wrap his arms around your middle.

“Yeah, just need to feel you.” He mumbled into the side of your neck. You could feel the warm cum dripping down your trembling legs. The realization hit you that you didn’t use protection. Your body stiffened, and Eddie caught on, “What’s wrong, baby?” He got up so you could turn to face him. You kissed him, not wanting to ruin the moment. He deserved one good day with you, and would a baby so bad? Having his baby. No, you dreamed of having his baby all the years ago.

Eddie deepened the kiss, and your thoughts dispersed; Eddie was the only thing clouding your brain. He picked you up, latching your legs around his waist.

“You going to show me your bedroom now, little lady?” He kissed down the other side of your neck, mirroring the marks he had left on the other side.

“Down the hall, second door on the left.” Eddie was already walking before you finished taking it. He entered your room and threw you on the bed to climb onto you.

“Really, you’re ready for round two?” Your question, even you still need some recovery time,

“You wound me, princess.” He drops his head as his large tattooed hand covers his heart. You then notice when he moved his hand that below where Violet Rose's name was etched into his skin over his heart was a tattoo you hadn’t seen before. A small pair of blacked-out angel wings with a halo hovering above.

Your hand shot up to trace over the ink in his skin.

“Eddie.” You whispered.

Eddie looked down to see what made your eyes glaze over. The realization that you hadn’t seen it yet hit him hard. He wasn’t sure why he acted on impulse that day, but something in him told him he had to keep you close to his heart, that he couldn’t let you go. So he got this tattoo dedicated to you a year after the breakup.

He cleared his throat; he was a little embarrassed by how desperate he was for you. How desperate he still is for you.

“Look, I-” You didn’t let him finish because you pulled him down into you by the back of his neck to kiss him. To really kiss him, a kiss to show him that you love him, that you always loved him, that you were sorry for ever hurting him.

“I love you,” you mumbled into his mouth. A shit-eating grin formed on Eddie’s face. He couldn’t get enough of you saying those words, and now you said it first, unprovoked. He slid down your body.

“Hey, where are you going?” You whined at the loss of his warm body hovering over you.

“I don’t get to worship my girl properly.” He parted your sticky legs.

“Eddie, you just came. You sure you want to?” You questioned, clamping your legs together.

“When has that ever stopped me before?” he pried open your knees. Not wasting another second, he was lapping at your clit, sending you into a cloudy euphoria.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

“Come home with me?” Eddie asked the following day. You’d been intertwined with one another all night, not leaving one another for a moment. Not even when you got up to go to the bathroom. You didn’t want to waste another second apart. You never thought you would be this happy again; the ecstasy flowing through you was giving you a high.

“I want you to meet Wayne.” he snuggled his head into the crook of your neck.

“I would love to,” you sighed.

“Good, we are going back in two weeks; Violet hasn’t seen her Pops in too long.” He smiled.

“You never told me much about him before?” You shifted in the sheets to face him.

You absentmindedly reached over to play with his hair.

“Not much to say,” he shrugged.

You gave him a pointed look that told him he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he chuckled. “He is a stubborn old grump who took me in when he didn’t need to. He really is a softy on the inside, especially when it comes to his granddaughter.” He sighed.

“Sounds like he is a really good guy,” you smile.

“He is, won’t admit it though, he is a very humble man, and it took years in order to convince him to live in the house I got him instead of the trailer I grew up in. I literally had to have it moved into the backyard with the house to convince him to leave that place.” He laughed.

You needed to meet the man who raised Eddie to thank him for doing such a good job. It meant so much to you that he would want you to meet him, especially after everything that happened.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” You kiss him gently.

“Good because I already told him you are coming. Gotta show off my girl to everyone.

Eddie’s words made your heart flutter. You still couldn’t believe this was happening and that he didn’t hate you.

The following two weeks had flown by. Trying to convince Violet Rose that you are staying for good was much more complex than you thought. She was very standoffish and didn’t give you much to work with. When you spoke to her, she would give grunts and one-word answers if you were lucky. Being a teenage girl means approaching with a topic of interest, and with VR growing up so much since you’ve seen her, it’s been hard to wiggle your way back in.

School was not a discussion topic; partying was also a sore subject because she was still grounded, so on your flight back to Indiana, you tried again. She gave you the cold shoulder, still not forgiving you. Not understanding at all why you had left. You were starting to question why you left things as you did. It didn’t make sense in retrospect. She was right, you could have snuck around, you could have “broken up” and gotten back together weeks later. But in the moment, everything was too much; you were overwhelmed by everything you weren’t thinking about. Now, as a thirty-year-old, you have learned so much. You were not ready for many things that came your way but you got through them; and on your own. Giving yourself room to grow and become your best was probably the best thing that came out of this situation.

“Hey, old man,” Eddie yelled into the empty foyer of Wayne’s quaint bungalow.

Violet Rose pushed past the both of you and walked into what you believed to be her bedroom just off the front door.

“Finally, I’ve been waitin’ round for ages! Can’t that dang plan of yours go any faster?” Wayne rounded the corner as he entered the long hallway. He embraced Eddie in a thigh hug, snaking his back a few times before letting go.

“Angel, this is Wayne” he smiled brightly

“Pops, this is my Angel.” You smile at Wayne before he opens his arms for a hug hello.

Wayne knew of you from the past. Mainly when he spoke with his granddaughter. She spoke so highly of you all those years ago.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you.” You squeezed your arms around the elderly man.

“Pleasure’s all my darlin'.” he pulled back to get a good look at you, then looked around. “Where’s my Grandbaby?”

Eddie chuckled and then pointed towards the door. “Don’t think she could get away that easy?” Wayne smirked.

Violet must have heard the conversation because she stepped out of the room and was changed into her sweats and an old Corroded Coffin shirt.

“Hey, Gramps.” She smiled slightly and leaned into him for a hug.

“Hey baby girl, you get taller? Damn, I haven’t seen you in so long” he brushed her curly locks down as he patted her head.

“Probably, but I think I’m done now,” she giggled. It was the first time you had seen her in a good mood.

“Well, let’s quit standing in the hallway; come in!” He waves the three of you into his home.

Wayne cooked a delicious dinner, and then Eddie showed you around the only trailer that sat in the backyard. He wasn’t kidding when he said Wayne wouldn’t move unless it went with him.

Eddie showed you around his old bedroom; he said it was like stepping into a time machine. Everything had been left as it was when he left at 21.

You teased him when you found an old Playboy that was very well-used. His cheeks flared up as you flipped through the dusty pages. He told you there used to be a display of mugs, the same one that was now inside the house, and a bunch of trucker hats that also used to be a staple, but now we’re probably in his bedroom collecting dust there.

When you went back inside, you saw Wayne and VR huddled around the pool playing a game of Snooker. It was nice to see Violet Rose enjoying her time around you rather than sulking like a moody teenager.

Eddie announced that both of you would join in the next round, and Violet rolled her eyes so much for progress.

The rest of the night was relatively peaceful. Only one more snarky remark from Violet Rose got a stern response from her Pops, telling her off for talking back to her elders.

“Don’t you teach this girl any manners? Did I not raise you to respect people?” Wayne grumbled.

“You try raising a teenage girl, then come back to me; maybe I’ll leave her here for the summer,” Eddie smirked, which got a rise out of Violet.

“I love you, Gramps, but I would rather die than live in Hawkins,” she winced.

“Don’t blame ya, Sweet-pea, but I think all that Hollywood California L. A bullshit, pardon my French, has gotten to that head of yours ” he shook his head.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh; it was so infectious you tried to hold in your giggles.

“You guys are the worst! Just try and be a teenager now!” She dropped her pool cue and stormed off to her room.

You looked at Eddie and gave a sympathetic smile; if anyone knew what she was going through in this room, it would be you. You went after her to see if she would open up to you.

You tentatively knocked on the door three times before she told you to go away.

"Vi, can I please come in?" you speak through the door.

"No," you could hear her eyes roll.

"Come on, Vi, who do you want to talk to you? Me a girl who has been in your position or your Dad?" you wait silently while she contemplates her options.

"Fine." You hear her get up and walk to the door. She doesn't say anything when she opens the door. She turns and sulks back to her bed, curling her knees to her chest.

"So..." you start while thinking about what to say next. "Want to tell me what is going on?" you sit at the opposite end of her bed; you don't want to crowd her.

"Not particularly," She mumbled into her knees.

“Okay," you drew out with a huff. "How about I list off some things that I think are the issues, and you let me know if I'm close?"

Violet Rose stared at you blankly, but you took that as a yes.

"Okay... is it about school?"

"No"

"Friends?"

"No"

"A boy?"

"Not really"

Okay that's good you were getting somewhere.

"Not really? So, a boy problem with you? Or someone else?"

"It's about you and Dad."

"Of course," you sighed.

"It's not that... it's not that I don't want you together because that is all I ever wanted. But I'm scared you're going to leave again." She was so meek. You hadn't seen Violet Rose, so unsure of herself. You reached out your comforting hand, shocked when she let you leave it resting over hers.

"I am so sorry about how I left things with you. I will never forgive myself for not being there to say goodbye. But I promise I am not planning on leaving this time. Your father and I are nowhere near perfect, but we are working on things. And if we ever plan to not continue things between us, I promise you I will always be a part of your life as long as you want me to be. Okay?" you sighed.

You waited a few seconds in silence before she responded. "Okay.'' She whispered while giving a meek smile.

"Was that the only thing bothering you?" you chide.

Violet sat and wondered if she wanted to share her feelings about her crush on her friend, Charlotte. Violet knew she liked both girls and boys for a while now but wasn't ready to divulge. She would rather speak about that to her aunts, Robin and Nancy. She shook her head no and said she would have an early night.

You bid her a goodnight, and when you closed her door, a triumphant smile spread across your face. Progress has been made; that's all you wanted.

You rounded the corner and caught the end of Eddie and Wayne's conversation.

"Don't let this one go again, boy, or else I'll never forgive ya'."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to let him this time," You said with the same goofy smile.

"You're in a good mood. I'm assuming things went well?" Eddie pulled you in by the waist to sit beside him on the couch.

"Yeah, she will be okay. Just needed some reassurance, is all." You curled up next to him.

Eddie didn't say anything more when he gave a kiss to your temple.

"Told ya she would be good for you son." Wayne tipped the beer bottle to you.

"Yea, yea, yea, you are always right," Eddie laughed.

It seemed that you were fitting back into their family just perfectly.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

On your second day in Hawkins, Eddie wanted to take you around town and bring you to meet his old friends. He told you that his buddy Steve was hosting a BBQ and invited all of his old high school friends for the occasion. He said you were going to meet everyone. Steve and his wife and kids, Robin and Nancy, who were married; Nancy’s little brother Mike and his Wife El; Dustin and his wife Suzy and their kids; Lucas and his wife Max and their kids; and Luca’s little sister Erica and her partner. You told him you would try to remember everyone’s names, but you made no promises.

It was all a bit overwhelming to meet everyone all at once, but you felt like you were welcomed with open arms, regardless of what Eddie had told them about you.

You’d lost Eddie halfway through the evening. Naturally, the men and women separated into their separate groups.

“So tell me about Eddie when he was in high school.” You smirked into your iced tea glass. Everyone else had been drinking tonight, but your stomach was feeling off, probably due to the nerves of meeting everyone tonight.

“Oh, he was a TOTAL dork,” Robin giggled.

“Not much of a jock, I’m assuming?” you asked, giggling with her.

“No, no, but he was a charming guy,” Nancy spoke. “a bit eccentric.”

“No, very eccentric,” Robin corrected with a laugh.

“But he was always looking out for his friends, sucking up for others, like my brother Mike” Nancy nodded over to the guys who were surrounding the BBQ.

Robin was someone you gravitated toward the most; she was funny and spunky, and you totally understood why she fell for Nancy. Nancy was kind, warm and not to mention gorgeous.

This made you smile to know he always had a genuine heart.

“Sounds ‘bout right,” you sigh.

Eddie couldn’t break the smile that spread across his face the second you two walked in the door. He was so smitten and very excited to show you off. He finally found his person; all of his hometown friends had settled down for years, getting married in their 20s and having a normal life in the suburbs. He felt like he was finally able to settle down with you. He had already settled down while raising VR but always missed his partner.

“How did you manage to swing a girl like that, Eds? She has to be half your age,” Steve asks, nodding his head in your direction.

“She is thirty,” Eddie corrected him, but he knew Steve was only pulling his leg.

“He’s a famous rockstar now, remember! Not the same nerd from Hawkins High,” Dustin laughed.

Eddie gave him a stern look. Sure, they were all grown up, but Eddie still saw them as his little sheep.

“Com’on, dude! It’s been so long since we busted your balls,” Lucas said, wrapping an arm around Eddie's shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever y’all are just jealous.” Eddie rolled his eyes, smirking before taking a sip of beer.

“We are happy for you, dude,” Steve smiled. “You seem much better when she is around. You sound alive again.” He flipped a steak on the grill.

“Well, my fellow brethren, thank you for everything you’ve done for me; I appreciate it.” “You're getting way too sappy for me; I thought I was standing with the men.” Mike laughed.

The evening was ending; the lot of you were all snuggled up by the bonfire in the backyard of the Harrington residents.

“So… what do you prefer to be called? Your actual name or Angel?” Steve inquired.

“Whatever you prefer, to be honest, I like both.” You smiled.

“Well, I’m calling you Angel,” Robin piped up, “It's cute,” she smiled.

“It’s all Eddie ever refers to you as; I had no idea it was you he was speaking of when he told us he was bringing a lady friend,” Steve smirked.

“She’s not just a lady friend; she is his girlfriend,” Dustin chimed in with a grin.

“Well, whatever you are, we are happy you’re here; it’s about time someone tied this one down.” Steve tilted his beer bottle up to toast.

“Thank you for having me; I’m so happy to meet all of you. Eddie has told me wonderful things about all of you.” You smiled, reaching for Eddie’s hand.

“Awe shucks, bud. Are you getting all mushy on us?” Steve laughs.

“Zip it, Harrington,” Eddie said, teasingly pointing a finger.

“What? I’m just saying… The last time we saw you with anyone was Chrissy... and that was twenty years ago!” He clapped. Steve was drunk.

Your body tenses and tired to laugh, but up at the thought of Eddie with another girl made you feel icky.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t found anyone close to how Angel makes me feel, so I don’t care how long it took her to find me.” Eddie kissed your cheek with a wet smack.

Steve cringed at how gushy his friend was, but the ladies fawned over it. They were so happy Eddie finally found his person. They had multiple discussions about how they were worried for his well-being when he started partying again.

“You both are the cutest. How did you rekindle things? Eddie told us you dated in the past. Nancy spoke.

You told them about how you caught VR in the club and dragged her home, and the rest was history.

The evening wrapped up around midnight. The car ride home was quiet but not uncomfortable. Eddie held your hand the whole ride home with a slight smile. Your heart was warm; Eddie had really good people in his life.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

"When do yous two plan on hitting the road?" Wayne asked a few days after your arrival.

"Trying to kick us out, old man? We just got here," Eddie laughed.

"No, boy, I just gotta know how much food to buy at the store." He huffed.

"Well, we will stay for four more days and head out on the 7th.

Wait? Did Eddie just say the 7th was in four days? That can't be right. You open your phone to look at your calendar. Shit.

You excuse yourself calmly to go to the bathroom.

You lock the door behind you and open your period tracker app. You were six days late. Okay, no need to panic. The last time you had unprotected sex was... almost every night for the past two weeks... You tried to think back; he pulled out nearly every time. But there was the first night you rekindled the flame; he definitely didn't pull out then… okay. Focus. You’re 30 and not getting any younger, your career is at its peak, and you’re with the man you want to be with forever. Growing your and Eddie’s baby inside you made your heart flutter. Maybe a baby wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

You decided to wait a few more days for your period to come just in case it was a fluke. You also didn’t want to take a pregnancy test in Wayne’s house, so you waited until you returned to LA.

You went out of the bathroom and decided not to tell Eddie anything until you knew for sure. Your mind was racing with all the possibilities. You tried to reel it back in the best you could and engage with the rest of them, but the last few days of the trip have been full of fantasies of a mini-you running around.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

When you got home from Indiana, the first thing you did was have your assistant rush to the drugstore. The last thing you needed was to have you papped buying a pregnancy test before you told Eddie anything. It sat on your bathroom counter, taunting you. You were so scared, so nervous about what could be.

You waited a few days before building up the courage to face reality because your period still hadn’t made its appearance.

It was six o’clock in the evening, and you had just gotten home from the studio. You had a productive day; you got about 4 songs finished and recorded for the new album coming out in 3 months. You were feeling good about your progress in the studio, and something in you told you to take the test.

You tried your best to distract yourself in the fifteen minutes for the test to be complete. The longest fifteen minutes of your life were waiting for the results; the second your phone timer went off, you ran back to the bathroom to check the test that sat on the vanity.

With shaking hands, you lifted it up to your face to see the very prominent plus sign marking the test positive. With a gasp, you felt your stomach erupt in those oh-so-familiar butterflies. You were happy, so happy, you were having a baby! Tears of joy escaped from your tear ducts. You couldn’t believe the news. How are you going to tell Eddie? Would he want to keep it? Would he stay with you? It was so soon; less than two months passed since you had gotten back together. How was VR going to react?! Oh god, you were just getting back in her good graces, this could screw up everything.

The next day, you got an appointment with your doctor; thankfully, they had an opening. They did the blood test, and a day later, they called you to confirm the news that you had been about 3 weeks along.

You let out the breath you had been holding when you picked up the phone.

You thanked them and hung up with a shaky hand. The first thing you did was sit and think about your future. You wanted to keep this baby no matter what Eddie's decision will be. You hadn’t booked a tour for this album release yet. You had a meeting with your team next month about it, but would let them know that it would have to be put on hold for now. You hugged your stomach as you thought about how you had not only yourself to think about. You were excited yet terrified all at the same time.

You were off in your own little baby world the next few days. You had called your mom to tell her because you could no longer keep the secret to yourself. She was so ecstatic, she cried happy tears, and she called your dad on the phone. She soothed your worries about having to tell Eddie. She reassured you that even if he didn’t want to be a part of the baby's life, she would be there for you, but she also reminded you how he raised a baby all on his own because he could never give up a child. That settled your nerves a bit, but you were still scared out of your wits.

You spent the afternoon talking to her, brainstorming ways of how you would tell Eddie. Your mom and you thought it would be cute to give him a custom onesie that said “Corroded Coffins smallest fan.” You go on ordering that immediately; you don’t want to keep the secret any longer.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

You were in Eddie’s bedroom getting unready after your dinner date; you hadn’t been feeling the best because of the baby. The nausea had been coming in waves, and Eddie knew you were not feeling the best. Oblivious to what was happening, you told him it was the stress of getting the album done.

Eddie told you he picked up some ginger tablets because he knew Gravol made you too sleepy.

“Baby, where are the tablets you bought? My stomach needs to settle,” you asked as you removed your earrings.

“Uh, check the night stand,” he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the walk-in closet.

You made your way over to his side of the bed and found nothing but an old copy of Lord of the Rings, a vibrator, and the box of condoms you were supposed to be using; bit too late for that now…

You then walked to the bedside table on your side of the bed. That made more sense; he would put it on your side for you.

You opened the drawer, and your heart felt like it stopped.

“What is this?” Your voice cracked.

“What’s what, Sugar?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

Your hands trembled as you picked up the small velvet box sitting there wide open for you to see. A diamond ring. It was not just any diamond ring but a pink 4-karat cushion cut with white diamond clusters on the side, staring you in the face. It was beautiful.

This man could not be serious? This is not how he was proposing to you?

You felt like you were moving in slow motion as you turned toward Eddie. Tears were threatening to rim your eyes; man, being pregnant really does heighten your hormones.

Eddie was in the walk-in closet undressing for the evening, and when you didn’t respond to his question, he was confused, so he poked his head out while pulling on his black sweatpants.

To Eddie’s surprise, you held the one thing that had taunted him over the past four years. He had forgotten about it since you came back into his life. How could he be so stupid? Of course, you found it!

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Eddie ran over to you in a panic. He tried to swipe it from you, but you pulled your hand away.

“Answer me, Eddie, what is this?”

“A ring,” Eddie answered matter of factly.

“I know it's a ring, Eddie, don’t play with me right now. What is this?” You tried to keep your voice from cracking again.

With a deep sigh, Eddie folded an arm over his chest and pinched his brow before letting his head fall back, trying to think of a way to explain.

“It’s an engagement ring, Princess.” He reached out to your free hand. You let him. “You weren’t supposed to find it.” He sighed.

“I wasn’t supposed to find the engagement ring left wide open on my side of the bed?” You cocked your head. He had to be joking? So this isn’t how he was proposing?

“God no, Angel! You think this is how I wanted to propose to you?” He shook his head with disbelief.

“Then why is it sitting in there out in the open for me to find!” You didn’t know what to think; was this even meant for you? Are you jumping to conclusions? “Oh my god, it’s not for me, is it? Fuck I’m so stupid” You shoved the box into Eddie’s hands and ran into the ensuite bathroom.

“Angel, wait!” Eddie called out to you but your emotions were sighted by one thousand, and you shut the door in his face before he could follow you.

“Baby, please let me in; I’ll explain everything. Just let me see my pretty girl.” Eddie cooed through the black wooden door.

You stood there for a moment, unsuccessfully holding back your tears. You didn’t feel pretty, your mascara was running, your stomach was still doing flip-flops, and you looked boated.

“No,” you refused.

“Come on now, sweetheart, don’t be like this. I’ll tell you everything.” Eddie watched the doorknob like he was trying to unlock it with his mind. To his surprise, it twisted. You stepped out, walking right past him no less, as you crawled into bed and pulled the duvet over your head.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your dramatics. You really could be such a brat, but he knew better than to poke the bear right now.

“Come out from under there, please, so I can talk to you?” Eddie stroked your arm from above the blanket. He didn’t get a worded response, just a muffled grumble.

“Let me talk to you, pretty girl, don’t act like a child. Another muffled, grumbled response was made, and he could have sworn you said something about acting however you want because you’re having his child, but it was so muffled he swore that he was just hearing things.

Eddie tried again, then realized you were not coming up, so he would have to go in. You tried pulling the covers closer to you, but his grip was much stronger than yours. He snuggled in the bed, but you turned to face the other way.

Eddie could not believe your behaviour right now.

“Don’t make me take you over my knee, little one,” he seductively whispered in your ear.

He could not be serious right now?

“Eddie, don’t,” you huffed.

“Then quit being a brat and let me talk to you.” he pulled you into him so he was spooning you.

“You tried to wiggle away, but his strong arm held you in place. You decided to give up and let him talk. The sooner he spoke, the sooner you could escape this stifling heat trap you had created for yourself.

“What do you want to know?” He kissed your shoulder as one hand trailed lightly up and down the side of your thigh.

“Everything.” You whispered with a light sniffle.

“Yes, the ring was for you, and no, you were not supposed to find it like that... It's been sitting on that side of the bed for years, taunting me, and I never had the heart to throw it away.” Years? You wanted to cut him off and ask, but you let him continue. “ I had this whole thing planned to put in Italy. You remember?” he cleared his throat. Fuck “Obviously, that didn’t work out like I had hoped. I had forgotten it was there over these past few months because it was no longer a reminder of sad memories. I don’t know why I didn’t move it when we got back together; honestly, I just didn’t think about it. You were never supposed to see it… well, not never…”

You took a moment to process, then slowly turned around to face Eddie. You placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. You didn’t know what this meant for the both of you now, but the idea of being engaged made you extremely happy.

“I love you, Eddie.” You whispered as you pulled back.

“So we are okay?” He nuzzled his nose against yours.

“Yeah, I think so,” you nod.

“Good, because I must punish you for being such a brat now.” Eddie threw up the blankets and pulled you over his lap before you knew what was happening.

“NO, we can’t hut the baby!” you shouted, not thinking.

Eddie’s hand froze mid-air before it could come down on your bottom.

You covered your mouth, realizing what you had just said as Eddie pulled you back up from his lap.

“What did you just say?” Eddie's eyes were wild while scanning your tummy back up to your face.

“I’m pregnant,” you spilled softly.

“You’re- you- you’re? A baby?” Eddie pointed to your tummy.

“This is not how I planned on telling you,” you groaned into your hands before looking up at Eddie, who had the brightest smile on his face.

“You’re having a baby?” His large hand spread across your lower stomach. You place your hand over his and nod yes.

“We are having a baby!!” Eddie shot up out of bed and pumped his fists as he ran around the room in excitement. You couldn’t help but laugh; this was the best reaction you could have hoped for.

“When did you find out?” He ran back over to your side of the bed.

“Um, not long, about two weeks ago…”

“Two weeks?! Why didn’t you tell me?” He places a gentle hand over your tummy.

“I was scared… and I was waiting for the gift to come in the mail to help tell you.” You looked down as you started picking at your nails.

“Scared?” Eddie cupped the side of your face.

“We are so new, and I didn't know if you wanted to be committed to me like that after everything from our past and-”

“No.” Eddie shook his head, cutting you off. “We aren’t doing that; this is the best news I could have ever asked for.” He leaned in to kiss you. “I love you,” another kiss. “I love you,” he moved down to your neck. Kissing you between each sentence. “You’re going to be the best momma… and now I’m going to have to take extra good care of my girl and baby.” Eddie couldn’t hold back his smile.

Your skin tingled as Eddie made his way down your body with more kisses. You moaned from how his lips brushed so lightly against your skin. Everything had been heightened now that you were pregnant. Every touch, every kiss, every graze was like a bolt of lightning shooting down your body and straight to your clit.

You moaned his name as he sucked on your neck. His hands gently pushed you up on the pillows resting on the headboard.

“Have to treat my girl extra special now.” He whispered as he travelled down your body. His strong hands travelled down to the hem of your dress and wasted no time getting you naked.

“Have to treat this pussy right; it’s going to be giving me the best gift in the world.” He kissed your clit over your panties, and your body jerked. This was the first time you’ve had sex since finding out the news. Your morning sickness had been taking over any time you were with Eddie. You won’t be up for it.

Your body was so much more reactive, and Eddie noticed. Oh, he was going to have so much fun.

“You like that, Princess?” He stroked his index finger down your clothed slit before hooking a finger under the gusset and pulling them down in one swift motion.

“Yes,” you panted.

“Look at that,” Eddie said as he parted your legs. He ran a calloused fingertip through your slick. You grabbed his wrist when he got to your clit.

“Too much,” you whimpered. It felt like your body was on fire.

Eddie crawled back up to kiss you; it was soft and tender. His hand trailed up from your centre to your breasts. He cupped one over your bra and massaged gently as you ground your core into his thigh.

“I can’t wait to worship this body,” Eddie spoke into your mouth.

You let out a soft moan when Eddie pulled down the cups of your bra and latched his mouth onto your extra-sensitive nipple. Your hips hadn’t stopped moving. Your clit was throbbing as you ground your hips up and down his clothed thigh. Eddie let you use his leg to release the pressure that kept building and building in your lower stomach. The added pleasure of Eddie’s mouth on your peaked bud made your orgasm come faster than ever before. It didn’t take much before you were letting out silent screams.

“Poor little thing, coming already? Eddie loved this. He was eating it up.

“Please, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for? You were so sensitive, but you needed to feel Eddie or else you would explode.

“There there little one, Daddy’s got you,” he cooed.

“Daddy?” You questioned still in your fucked out haze.

Eddie never referred himself to Daddy in bed, only Sir.

“Yes. Daddy. ‘Nd you’re Mommy.”

Was it weird? Yes. Were you arguing? No. It only turned you on even more.

“Now stop thinking and let Daddy take care of you.”

He aligned his hardened shaft with your dripping hole.

It slipped in without any resistance; you felt every inch, every vein, and especially those glorious silver balls perched at the end of his shaft graze your g spot.

“Oh my,” you whispered.

“Aww, look at that little pussy clenching,” he pulled out before spreading you open again and again.

Eddie wasn’t going at his usual pace; he knew it was silly, but he didn’t want to hurt the baby. He saw that you were so sensitive enough that he didn’t need to.

He rocked his hips to push in and out of you slowly and methodically.

“More,” you whimpered, trying to gyrate your hips against his to create more friction! Eddie pinned your hips down.

“Nuh'uh, don’t fight it.” He threw your legs over his shoulders and leaned in so you folded in half.

“Please,” you begged. You were so fucked out you just needed to feel every bit of him.

“My poor little one.” he mocked before reaching his hand down to massage your swollen bud. “Can’t do anything about it, can you?” He was such an ass.

“Please Eddie, I-I-”

“Oh, I think my cock got you so stupid. It’s not Eddie, baby girl.” He stopped all movement.

“Daddy, please!” You were on the verge of tears at this point. You were so overstimulated. Every stroke, every brush, every breath was overwhelming you.

“There’s my smart girl.” Eddie bent down to kiss you as his hips thrust into you so deeply that you saw stars. Your body felt like it left and went to another dimension.

“Keep coming, baby, that’s it.” Eddie didn’t let up. He continued to pound into your cunt until he was spilling himself inside of you. For the first time, Eddie wasn’t worried about him cum filling you up.

“That’s it. Take it all. You’re my little cum dumpster. Going to fill you get you pregnant all over again.”

You were too fucked out to realize what he was saying didn’t make any sense.

You came back down to reality a few minutes later. You were curled up on Eddie’s chest. You could feel the rise and fall of his lungs as the room was filled with heavy pants until Eddie spoke up.

“I wasn’t too much, was I?” Eddie was worried, worried about hurting you or the baby. You shook your head no in response.

“How did this happen?” Eddie questioned.

“What? The baby?” You quipped.

“Yeah, I thought it was like impossible to get pregnant with an IUD?” He crunched his face, trying to think.

Shit.

“I took it out…” you admit. No use lying to him.

“You- you took it out? What? When?” Eddie was shocked.

“I had it taken out over a year ago because I thought it was aiding my depression, you know… hormones and all that.” You bite your lip with anticipation.

“Baby…” he trailed off.

“I’m okay now, I swear. I’m doing a lot better,” you promised.

“You promise to tell me if you ever feel like that again, OK?”

“Yes, Sir.” You playfully reply. “Oh, that’s how it's going to be?” He raises a brow at you. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with the mother of my child, and you wanna be a brat?” His fingers started trailing up your sides, tickling your middle.

“Eddie, stop!” You laugh, but he doesn’t let up. He continues until you’re almost in tears. When he finally gives in, it hits you what he said minutes earlier. You’re the mother of his child. Unborn but still yours nonetheless.

“I’m going to be a mommy.” You whisper more to yourself than anyone.

“Yeah, you are.” Eddie’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

“You two are so gross,” Violet Rose said as she entered the kitchen the next morning.

“Huh?” You questioned before taking a bite of the scrambled egg Eddie had made for you

“I don’t ever want to hear your nightly activities ever again." she shuttered.

You felt all the blood drain from your face as you froze from the words she spoke.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you mumbled under your breath, trying to hide your face in your hands. How mortifying!

“Mornin’ Cupcake,” Eddie walked back into the kitchen as Violet grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“So gross,” VR cringed and walked away without another word.

“Hey! You’re still grounded, don’t forget. I don’t need the snarky comments,” he called after her, clueless about what she might have heard the night prior.

“Baby, you might have to end her punishment early… she has suffered enough.” You try not to laugh, but it was so uncomfortable you don’t know how to react.

“What?” Eddie looked back at you.

“She heard us…last night.” you cringe.

“She knows about the baby?” He tilted his head.

“No, not the baby,” you chuckle.

“You mean?” Eddie’s eyes went wide at the realization. No wonder she called him gross.

“Oh god! No, no, no, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“Baby, it will be okay.” You tried to console him.

“Okay? It’s not okay! Probably scarred her for the rest of her life!” He brushed his hands down his face. “She shouldn’t even know what sex is! She’s a baby, my baby!” Eddie was spiralling.

“She snuck into a club with a fake ID and was with a man twice her age when I found her... hate to break it to you, but she knows what sex is, babe.” You stroke his back, trying to calm him down.

“She was with who now?” Eddie's face went beat red. Shit. You’d forgotten you hadn’t disclosed that part of the night you found VR at The Red Bottom's.

“Shhhh shhhhh, it's okay. She got her punishment; she knows what she did was wrong. We are finally getting somewhere with her; let's not ruin it by reminding her of her mistakes.” You cooed.

“Yea, yea, you’re right,” He sighed.

“Poor kid,” you shake your head.

“When do you want to tell her?” Eddie pulled you in by your oversized t-shirt.

“You think we should tell her now? She is old enough. I don’t wanna keep any more secrets from her.” You wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Eddie landed his forehead on yours. You were about to kiss when Violet Walked back into the room.

“Oh god! Get a room!” She covered her eyes like she was in physical pain.

“Sweetheart, come here. We have to share something important.” Eddie patted the bar stool that was beside him.

“Do I have to? I could be doing, I don’t know, algebra homework or something.” She rolled her eyes.

“Come, sit” Eddie used that commanding voice that made your pussy tingle.

“We have some news. Exciting news.” Eddie emphasized when he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“You want to tell her, or should I?” Eddie asked as he looked at you.

“Um, you can tell her, baby” You smiled. You were very nervous about what her reaction would be. You had just broken the surface of making up with her.

“You are going to be a big sister.” Eddie smiled brightly.

A few seconds of silence pass before what Eddie said hits Violet Rose. “Shut up!” Violet’s face emulated her father’s as his mouth parted into a toothy smile.

Well, that was better than expected…

“You’re having a baby!” She jumped up and embraced you in a hug. Tears of joy rose in your eyes, and you nodded.

“Yeah,” You whispered.

“Holy shit!” Violet was ecstatic. Now, this really meant you were here for good! You wouldn’t leave her and her father. She finally felt like things would be okay.

“So you’re okay with this?” You ask with a quivering lip. God, pregnancy really made you a crybaby.

“Yes! Omg we have to go shopping! We can get all the baby clothes and, oh, the nursery! We can decorate it; I have so many ideas! I saw one Pinterest the other day that was just the cutest! Oh, and we can do a baby shower! And a gender reveal party! But not those lame ones with the smoke or balloon ones that are horrible for the environment- ” She rambled on.

“Whoah, slow down Cupcake” Eddie cut her off. “We just found out, so you can’t tell anyone yet; it’s too early.”

“How far along are you?” She bounced up and down on her toes.

“Five weeks.” You smile.

“Oh, I'm so excited. I love you guys.” She hooked her arms around your and Eddie’s necks.

That was the first time you heard her tell you that since she was eleven. The waterworks were starting up again. You’d finally felt like a family again.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Eddie, Violet Rose and you had lived in your little bubble for the past two months. Things with VR were so much better; she was opening up to you like she used to and trusting you more than ever. Eddie had also asked you to move in with him.

Even though you loved your little bungalow, having the four of you living there wasn't practical. Eddie’s had so much more space and was always a home to you in the time you’ve known him. You’d convinced Eddie to start redecorating just a little bit. However, you told him the house needed to be brighter. So after some negotiations (letting Eddie do filthy things to you), you got your way and painted the walls lighter. It made the house look so much more significant. Violet cheered when you told her the dungeon she lived in would be given a facelift.

Today, Eddie and Violet Rose and you were out furniture shopping. You’d wanted to fix the bedroom to make it yours and Eddie’s rather than just Eddie’s. Eddie was fine with anything as long as you were happy. You’d also come across some cribs and changing tables in the store that you loved and marked down to save for the future.

After hours of looking, you were starving, so you went to lunch at your favourite spot.

Word was starting to spread that you and Eddie had gotten back together. You both hadn’t officially announced anything, but you had been spotted out in public a few times, and the wind was picking up in the tabloids about the both of you, so you were grateful when the restaurant wasn’t bustling.

“The baby is still hungry,” You wined as the waiter walked away with empty plates.

“Holy shit!” Violet Rose squealed out of nowhere.

“What?!” You ask.

“Oh my god, I can't believe that's her!” Violet half whispered. She didn’t get excited about celebrities; she grew up with them, so why was she freaking out about this one?

You look at Eddie and see all the blood drain from his face.

“What is it?” You grab his hand.

“Eddie, is that you?” You heard a sickly, sweet voice approach the table.

You cannot believe who is standing before you as you look to your right.

“Sarafina, uh, hi- it’s been a while.” He stuttered as she wrapped herself around your boyfriend.

“Wait, you two know one another? Dad! why didn’t you tell me?” Violet chastised.

You watched as Sarafina’s face shot towards her daughters.

“This must be Violet Rose.” She smiled. God, she was beautiful.

“You know my name?” Violet’s eyebrows shot up.

“Well yeah, I-” she looked to Eddie, and he subtly shook his head no. “I, uh, know your Dad; we go way back. About sixteen years, if I’m not mistaken.” She clearly was hurt by the fact Violet Rose didn’t know she was her mother.

You’d cleared your throat to take the attention off Sarafina.

“Oh, I’m being so rude. Where are my manners?” She spoke. “I’m Sarafina, and you are?”

“This is my Mom. You can call her Poppy or Angel, whatever works,” Violet Rose spoke up, and you and Eddie both wiped your heads toward her. She hadn’t ever called you her Mom before? “Uh yea, whatever works? It’s very nice to meet you.” You stuck out your hand as a gesture. She didn’t take it.

“Mom? You’re young enough to be her sister.” You knew it was a jab but weren’t sinking to that level.

“Yeah, well, she’s a great one.” Eddie grabbed your hand.

“Well, I uh- don’t want to bother you any longer on your little family day.” She cleared her throat. “It was nice seeing you, Eddie,” She nodded and then lingered on Violet Rose before she walked out of the restaurant.

“What the hell, dad!” Violet spoke as soon as she saw Sarafina exit the building.

“Violet Rose Winnifred Munson. Don’t.” Eddie never used her full name unless he meant it. So she dropped it… for now. She thought about asking you later when her dad wasn’t around.

The car ride home was quiet until Violet spoke up.

“So uh, about lunch… I think Sarafina likes you, Dad.”

“What?” He jerked the wheel a bit, making you squeak. “Sorry baby, but what are you talking about Cupcake?” He looked at her through the rearview mirror.

“She was totally all over you!”

“Is that why you called Angel your mom?” Your eyes went wide with curiosity.

“Well, yeah, partly.” She shrugged.

“Partly?” You ask, looking back at her.

“You’re more of a mom than she ever was to me.” Violet had dug into who his dad had been with around the time she was conceived. She got final confirmation when Sarafina said they’d known each other for sixteen years. It wasn’t rocket science to see the similarities in her face and her birth mother's.

Somehow Eddie managed to keep his cool while driving you safely back home before freaking out. The three of you exited the car, and Eddie walked over to Violet Rose. As you watched him engulf his daughter in a suffocating hug, you couldn’t help but sniffle. Damn you, baby hormones.

“I want you to know how special you are. You are so brave, smart, loving, and funny, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your Dad, okay?” He kissed the side of her head and pulled away.

“Thanks, Dad. But can I ask…. Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked as you all walked back into the house.

“Because Cupcake, I know what it’s like to not be wanted by the people who are supposed to love you the most. And I did not want that for you, ever. Growing up, I couldn’t have you seeing that woman everywhere, knowing she asked not to be a part of your life.” Eddie sighed.

“I love you, Dad, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around this whole thing. I kinda just wanna call Charlotte and tell her what’s happening.” She made her way to the staircase.

“I’m just going to ask that you ask her not to say anything. I know she won’t, but Sarafina asked that no one knew… that’s part of why I didn’t tell you, kiddo. But you have every right to talk about it… it’s your life, too.” Eddie sighed.

“Thanks, Dad.” Violet turned and walked up the stairs.

“You’re a good Dad.” You turned to hug Eddie once VR was out of sight.

“It’s so hard sometimes.” He nuzzled his head into your neck.

“But you have me now; you don’t have to do this alone anymore.” You stroked his head.

“God, I love you.” He leaned in for a deep kiss.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

You told Roger and your team you were pregnant a week ago. You were starting to show and couldn't really hide the bump anymore. It's been over three months, and your doctor said the baby was healthy, so it was okay to start telling people.

Roger was excited, more than enthusiastic; he had ideas on pregnancy announcements. He insisted on a People Magazine cover to announce your and Eddie’s relationship plus the Baby. You’d let him know you would run it by Eddie, but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice.

“I don’t know about this Princess,” Eddie snuggled you while laying in bed, getting ready to sleep.

“Come on baby, it could be good for us, like really good! No more sneaking around. I can finally stop worrying about people finding out, and it will probably up record sales.” You stroked his tattooed-clad chest.

“I hate photoshoots; they’re so long, and I always get so cranky and hungry-”

“Hangry.”

“Yea, that… and what about you? I don’t want you on your feet that long.”

“Who says I’ll be on my feet?” you tease. “I’ll probably be in nothing but a sheet, baby. I’ll have to show my little bump, and you can be there with me while I’m practically naked…. Or I can do the same without you and just make it all about me.” you shrug, knowing that won’t fly.

“No way in hell I’m letting you be naked in a room with a bunch of men without me.” Eddie huffed.

“Okay, then it’s settled. You’re doing it.” you kiss his cheek and roll over to turn out the light. You could feel Eddie roll his eyes, and you snuggled back into his chest.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The magazine cover came out when you were five months along. Your baby bump was more prominent now than on the shoot day. You could finally show it off without worrying about hiding your tummy anymore. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

“Can’t believe it's finally public,” you sighed. You were in the living room hanging out with Violet Rose.

“Me too! Now I can finally tell people I will be a big sister!” She applauded. “You think it will be a boy or girl?” She asked.

“I don’t know yet. I thought I would have a feeling by now, but honestly, I’m unsure.” You rubbed your tummy.

“Too bad you guys are waiting; I would have planned the best gender reveal party…” she sighed. “Speaking of parties.” Violet Rose hesitated, knowing she couldn’t be trusted with going out after being busted. “Charlotte is having a birthday party tonight, and I was hoping you could help me get ready?”

“And where is this party being held?” You question.

“At her house, her parents will be there; it is totally supervised, I swear.” She crossed her heart.

“And your Dad knows you’re going?” You question.

“Yes, I already spoke to him. I’m sleeping there, so you don’t have to pick me up either.

“Of course, I’ll help you get ready,” you smile.

You were sat in Violet’s room in a pile of clothing. She was freaking out about what she should wear. Then, after you figured out her outfit, you would help her with her hair and makeup.

“Ugh! I'm never going to find anything cute enough!” She cried.

“This is so cute. Wear this!” You pull a black minidress out of the pile she had thrown at you.

“I wore that last time!” She wined.

You looked at the clock; it was only 5:00 pm; thank god you had three hours to help her get ready.

“Come, let’s look in my closet…” you waved her over to follow you to your room.

After settling on one of your outfits, you returned to her room to do her hair and makeup.

“So any particular reason you are freaking out?” You laugh while blending her bronzer.

“I’m not freaking out,” She huffed.

You give her a knowing look.

“Okay, fine. My crush will be there, and I wanted to look nice for them…” She sighed.

“Oh, a crush! Do tell.” You wiggled your brows at her. You were so excited she was finally opening up to you again.

“uh… well.” Violet hesitated.

“It’s okay, baby, you can tell me,” you reassured her.

“It’s Char.” She looked down, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh?” You were taken aback a little; you didn’t think she would be crushing on her new best friend.

“I, uh. I like both boys and girls.” She twiddled with her thumb. You could tell hoe nervous she was, but you were so happy she opened up.

“Can I tell you a secret? You lifted her chin so you could continue doing her face. “I like boys and girls too.” You smiled. Not many people knew about your preferences. However, it felt right to let her know she wouldn’t be judged by you.

“What?” Violet Rose’s eyes brightened.

You nod your head to confirm.

“Does Dad know?” She asked.

“Yeah, I told him when we first started the whole fake dating thing.” You shrugged.

“Cool,” she half whispered.

“So tell me more.” You smile, reaching for the eyeshadow brush.

“Well she is really pretty, and smart, and funny, and we get along so well. I feel like she’s my other half.” She sighed.

“Do you know if she likes girls too?”

“No” her shoulders sunk.

“Well, she would be crazy not to like you back if she does.”

“You think so?” She looked up at you with those chocolate eyes.

“Now, don’t take this the wrong way because I do not condone what you did at the club, but you pulled that guy, didn’t you? You’re beautiful. Your mom’s a supermodel, and you’re funny, charismatic, and kind.” You tell her.

“She’s not my mom…” She shook her head.

“You know what I mean-”

“You are,” she cut you off.

“Ohhhh, don’t you do this to me now!” You jokingly threaten as you try to hold back the waterworks.

“Pop, I'm sorry I keep forgetting how the baby makes you emotional.” She giggled.

You sniffle a bit and pull it together to continue her eye makeup.

“Anyway… I hope I figure out what to do.” She sighs.

“Have you told your dad?” You ask, moving on to her hair.

“No,” she shakes her head.

“Okay, I won’t say anything until you're ready to tell him yourself.” You smile at her from your reflection in the mirror.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said with a slight grin.

“Okay, you’ll have to give me a minute.” You walked to her night side table to get a tissue while she laughed in her vanity chair.

*knock knock knock*

“What’s going on in here?” Eddie walked in to see you crying and Violet Rose laughing.

“She *sniffle* called *sniffle* me *sniffle* Mom.” The dam broke; you couldn’t help it. You had been overcome with so much love.

“Oh, Angel, come here.” Eddie wrapped his arms around you. He smiled over your shoulder to VR and waved her over. You felt another pair of arms wrap around your shoulder from behind.

“God, you Munsons are so mushy,” You spoke into Eddie's chest. Your body shook as the both of them giggled around you.

“Don’t tell anyone we have an image to uphold.” Eddie smiled.

“I don’t think anyone is going to be calling you a bad boy after that magazine cover” VR cackled.

“You’re on thin ice missy, I can make you stay home.” Eddie threatened.

“Oh baby you can’t do that! We put in hours of work!” You patted your tear-stained cheeks.

“Fine, I can’t say no to you.” he kissed the tip of your nose.

“OK, people, I have one hour left. I need my hair finished!” She rushed back to the straightening iron.

“Okay okay” You laughed. “Let’s get you picture perfect.”

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Eddie had it all planned out for months. He had consulted Violet Rose on proposal ideas. She suggested a pamper day. He was taking you on a lovely day out, and you were getting a maternity massage, then getting your nails and hair done. Then he would take you shopping if you weren’t too tired before he took you home to cook a nice dinner. After dinner, he would pop the question.

Violet Rose planned a sleepover so you could have the house to yourself. She didn’t want a repeat of the last time she heard about your extracurricular activities.

When Eddie told you of your plans today, he wasn’t surprised at your shocked reaction. You were seven months pregnant, and he told you it was because you’d been working so hard to finish your album. The release date was pushed back because you felt the songs weren’t working. Eddie told you that the stress wasn’t good for the baby and you needed a day for yourself.

Eddie went with you to every appointment. He also got himself a massage while you had yours. He sat and waited for you while your nails and hair were done without a peep.

You told him you would go shopping another day; your feet were swollen and still bothering you. You went home and took a nap, and when you woke up, Eddie had placed your favourite slippers by the bed so you didn’t have to step on the cold floor. He also placed your favourite maternity dress out for you next to a note that said to get ready for your date.

You could smell something delicious from the kitchen when you stepped out of the bedroom. As you rounded the corner, you saw a candle-lit dinner ready and plated waiting for you.

“Baby, what’s this?” You ask, seeing Edie put the final touches on the table. Eddie turned and smiled. Fuck he looked so good tonight. Eddie was also dressed up. He wore the same black silk shit he wore the first time the two of you met, paired with a nice pair of black dress pants and a classic understated black belt.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Eddie greeted you with a kiss.

“You try growing a person and see how tired you get,” You giggle, walking towards your chair.

Eddie steps over to pull it out for you. Forever your gentleman.

“Thank you, baby. What's all this?” You asked as he scooted you in.

“Can’t a man take care of his perfect, beautiful woman?” He smirks.

“What did you do?” You ask. He is being suspicious.

“Now, why would I have had to do something to treat the woman I love?” He raises his brow to you.

“Don’t know? I feel like you’re doing so much for me today; I’m surprised.” You take a sip of the water he poured you.

“Well, the night is still young, cheers.” Eddie held up his glass.

Eddie pulled you out to the yard for fresh air after your meal. The backyard was decked out in what seemed to be hundreds of twinkle lights. There was a gazebo in the back by the pond that you liked to read in. He led you towards it and saw it covered in plush blankets and pillows.

“Eddie, what’s all this?” You whispered in amazement. Eddie had a team come in and set everything up while the two of you were running your errands.

“Come,” he held your hand as he helped you up the steps.

“Angel…” Eddie took a deep breath.

“Yes?” You looked up at him, and he swore your eyes twinkled.

“I have loved you from the moment you flirted with me at your show. I never knew someone could make me feel this way, and honestly, I didn’t believe in love because I had never found it until I met you. I never want to lose you again. You are the light of my life, my everything. You own my soul. I never have and never will stop loving you.” He knelt down on one knee.

Your hand flew up to your mouth when he pulled out the ring you found a few months ago.

“Will you spend the rest of forever with me?”

Your hands shook as he pulled the ring out of the box and slid it up your finger.

“See, it was always meant for you. I just got it a little too early,” he smirked.

You crouch over as much as you can with your belly and pull him in for a deep kiss.

“So, is that a yes?” Eddie pulled away.

“You’re sure you want this baby? You want me forever? Us forever?” You cupped your lower stomach.

“Of course, baby, I’ve wanted you forever.” he cupped your face with both hands.

“So?”

“Yes, Eddie, I’ll marry you,” you smile.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“You sure you wanna be stuck with me forever?” Eddie chuckled.

“Yes” you cupped your hands over his.

“Good, because I’m never letting you go ever again.”

~end~

Tag list: @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die @mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n @callsignraver @battymunson @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @xxhellfiregirlxx @amira0303 @mmunson86 @lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn @hellfire--cult @hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks @crazycat-ladys-blog @purplehazed-h @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16 @slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak @goodbyegh0st @nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon @corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr

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oneforthemunny · 3 months

Text

build me up, buttercup |dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!nepo baby!reader|

prompt: you and eddie are planning a baby shower to welcome in your first baby, persephone. or how the girl's flower themes are born.

a teeny tiny blurb that i'm excited to share. follows the lore than each of the girls have their own flowers, and this is how persephone's came to be <3 hope you enjoy!

contains: pure fluff. honestly just cutesy shit. language. pregnant!reader.

"I just want something bright." You hum, swaying gently to soothe your sore, aching joints. Your ring dazzled in the bright light pouring in from the open windows, smoothing over the swell of your stomach.

"Is there a specific color, Mrs. Munson?" The timid event planner asked, spreading out swatches of bright yellows, powdery blues, pastel pinks. "If we start with a color, maybe that would help narrow down the options?"

"I don't know." You frowned, a swell of frustrated tears bubbling to life in your chest. You didn't know, and you hated that you didn't know. It was your baby shower, you wanted it to be perfect.

Eddie's spine straightened, eyes cutting to you carefully. He sensed the tears, the irritation of feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, all threatening to come out the only way they knew how to. He'd been on the receiving end of too many of those fits. His hand found your thigh, squeezing it gently, thumb rubbing soft circles over your soft flesh, a desperate attempt to soothe.

"You're wanting flowers, right? That's the main theme." Your assistant, Natasha, a complete saint in disguise. With pregnancy brain and hormones, you were sure you'd never make it without her. "Do you have options for a floral theme?"

"Yes," The planner squeaked, thumbing through her briefcase of photos, swatches, notes.

Eddie felt you tense, your hand rubbing over your stomach in slow circles, huffing in defeat. "Hey, could you give us a second, Nat?" Eddie hummed. "Just give us one sec to look and kinda talk."

"Of course. Let's take a little break. I'll go get some tea." Natasha gave you both a small smile, padding to the kitchen the event planner following closely behind.

Your sigh, heavy and huffy, echoed off the walls. It made Eddie cringe gently, pulling the flower pictures closer to the two of you. "What about this one? Nice and pink for ya." Eddie held the small sample photo up to you, filled with sweet peas and hydrangeas, obnoxiously pink.

"Yeah," You muttered, lips still puffed in a pout. "I don't even know if I want pink anymore."

"Blue?" Eddie grinned lightly. "Trick everyone into thinking it's a boy incase there's a leak." He cringed when your breath hitched, eyes wide in horror.

"I'm kidding, baby." Eddie added quickly. "No one's gonna leak. We're keeping it intimate."

"Yeah, right." You sighed. "My mom and dad will bring all these people I barely even know."

"And I'll tell them to leave." Eddie's chest puffed, spine straightening. "I'm serious. They're not on the list, they can fuck off, alright? Goes for Victor and Tana too. Not gonna let them upset you."

The small smile you gave him felt like a standing ovation, a victorious win after a grueling, hard day. Filled his chest with warmth, hand squeezing yours lightly.

"If there's even a shower to kick them out of." Your smile fell just as quickly as it came, shoulders slumping with them. "Can't even pick a theme."

"We'll get it. C'mon," Eddie's calloused fingertips tickled your jaw, lifting your gaze to his. "Don't be like that, sweetheart."

"I can be like that if I want to." Your voice teetered on the edge of a whine, the hinting of a cry. "I can't even make a decision about a baby shower theme. How am I going to make a decision about a baby?"

"Stop that." Eddie shook his head, voice dropping to a soft coo. "Two totally different things, baby. Not even comparable." It was rational, firm but soothed your bundles of nerves. You both had your own worries, fears about parenthood- fear of the unknown that was creeping closer and closer.

"Here," Eddie stood, chains hanging from his jeans jingling with every heavy step towards the shelves on either side of the television, lined with books.

Eddie's fingers danced over the spines, until he found the book. Still new, no cracks in the spine or bent pages, a gift from Farrah when you told her the baby's name. "I saw it at this bookstore in Amsterdam. I had to get it." She'd squealed, giving you the book with a title that your baby shared- Persephone.

Eddie had been more elated than you, reading it front to back more than once. Reading it to you at night, eyes lighting when he'd read something interesting.

"I think I saw somethin' in here." Eddie sank back down beside you on the couch. "Just an idea."

You curled into him, knees tucked under you, head on the soft, worn material of his t-shirt. His cologne, a faint smoky smell of a cigarette- you could feel your body relaxing, intoxicatingly calm.

Calloused fingertips thumbed through the pages until he found the page he was looking for, lips parting in a soft, triumphant hum. "Look," Eddie tilted the page towards you, fingertip tracing the small etching of a flower. "Says there's some history behind this flower and Persephone."

You titled your head, eyes scanning over the text.

"In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, Earth Goddess Gaia produced the yellow petaled Narcissus specifically to enchant Persephone. Now, this early blooming flower is seen as the harbinger of Spring, announcing Persephone's ascent to the surface."

"Interestingly, for all it's association with rebirth and new life with Spring, the bulb is highly toxic?" You frowned, head tilting up towards Eddie.

His lips curled in a wide, excited grin, eyes shining with gleaming pride. "That's fucking cool, isn't it?" Eddie beamed.

Heat blossomed in your chest, dissolving the feeling of frustration and fear, and blooming with something lighter. Soothing and happy, spreading through your chest all the way to your cheeks.

"That is pretty cool." You nodded, scanning the table for a yellow swatch. "We could do like a yellow and white kinda theme, right? That would be neutral in case it did get leaked."

Eddie gave a small eye roll. "It won't get leaked." He muttered, setting the book to the side. "But, yeah, neutral but still bright."

"Make the narcissus the main flower. Maybe add baby's breath and something else..." You muttered, pulling the swatches in front of you. Eddie's chest boasted, watching your small frown on your features, determined instead of frustrated now.

"Do they keep?" You turned to Eddie. "Like, they won't wilt or be gross, right?"

"Buttercups? Nah, they'll keep." Eddie shook his head gently. "Used to pick them for my mom all the time when I was little. She'd keep 'em in a vase and some water, and they'd stay forever."

Your heart swelled, a dull ache behind his words. Even now, married and expecting a baby, Eddie rarely spoke about his mother. Every small detail he'd share, you'd guard protectively in your thoughts, wanting to remember every detail you could.

"Ok," You nodded, a small sigh of relief. "Let's do that then."

You groaned, pushing off the back of the couch, Eddie's hands quickly finding your waist to help you stand. "Will you go get them? I have to pee, and I'll be right back."

Weeks later, Eddie was sure he'd never seen so many shades of yellow- so many flowers in his life. Your family's Malibu home transformed to a bright, floral baby shower of your dreams. Buttercups at every arrangement, starred prominently in bustles of baby's breath and tiny white daisies. All the guests even in various shades of yellow, shining brightly under the California sun.

Eddie managed to sneak a bouquet after the party, when you'd gone to lay down and the staff was cleaning up. He'd handed it to Natasha, sent it with her to get pressed and framed, until it found it's new home in the nursery.

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neonghostlights · 5 months

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The Three Exes Of Eddie Munson

Series summary: Eddie broke your heart and left you in Hawkins six years ago. After years of avoiding everything to do with your famous rockstar ex, you’re forced to face him after your face ends up in a magazine along with his other beautiful exes. Will the crazy turn of events bring you back together or force you further apart?

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

Interlude: Rosie

Interlude: Jennifer

Part six

Part seven

Part eight

Part nine

Part ten

#rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst

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blueywrites · 1 year

Text

I Will Wait

a soulmate!fakemarriage!au with rockstar!eddie and personalassistant!reader (also featuring ronance)

cowritten by @abibliophobiaa, @blue-mossbird, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, and @fracturedarkness

18+ only for mature themes and eventual sexual content. fem!reader

one (9.9k) | next | masterlist | AO3 | 🎵 shmackin' tunes

in this universe, there is no upside down, the year is 1995, and corroded coffin = nine inch nails. if you didn't check out the prequel publications (hot off the press on our series masterlist), make sure you do, since they provide important backstory for the IWW universe! read them carefully; there are secrets. 😉

Your mind is a buzzing whirl, just like that of the streets of New York City below, visible through the thick glass of your apartment window. Below, where you can hear the blare of honking horns, can see people loitering on the side of the road, hands waving high in an attempt to hail one of the taxis rushing past. You watch as people dart across busy intersections, dodging oncoming cars, scattering like ants across criss-crossed streets that teem with activity even in the dead of night.

It’s a constant, a comfort, something you can cling to as anticipation bubbles and wells in your gut.

Outside, the sun is beginning its slow descent; glowing bright skies begin to deepen into a powdery orange, hinting at a day starting to close. Your fingers press against the window, a mental note already forming to clean it once you step away, eyes peering out into the bustling city streets. You work your way down the mental list once more: dishes washed, already set aside in the drying rack; laundry ironed and folded, pressed neatly into your drawers in categorical order; counters wiped down, shades dusted, furniture polished; dishwasher emptied, cups, plates, bowls and utensils placed in proper cabinets; AOL inbox checked, your confirmation for the time you would be meeting your new boss responded to, while the rest of the emails were placed into proper folders or deleted completely.

You’ve already changed your outfit three times. Laid multiple options out on your bed and ironed them all. You had held them to your body in the reflection of your bedroom mirror and tossed them into a heap at the foot of your bed. This wasn’t just any day, after all. The importance isn’t lost on you. This isn’t like any of your temp jobs that came before it. This is the first you’ll be working alongside someone with undeniable notoriety in the music space.

A celebrity, really.

“I can see your mind working, you know?” Angela, your roommate, glances up from where she sits at your kitchen island. There’s a magazine in front of her with some likely-falsified article about the newest Hollywood “IT” couple on display, dressed to the nines with glowing, airbrushed features. Her nails tap along the countertop, stark red against pale cream, as she arches a brow in your direction.

You’re already walking into the kitchen to join her, skirt sliding against your tight-clad thighs as you reach down beneath the sink to grab a bottle of windex, sights set on the fingerprints on your floor-to-ceiling windows. She twists in the chair while you rustle about, ignoring her as you grasp paper towels from the rack.

“This is a good thing,” she says, sighing with an exasperated shake of the head. Your reflection obscures for a brief moment, replaced by blue spray, before you wipe your lingering prints away. “You’ve wanted to travel for so long. You know, see the world and all of that. This is your opportunity to do it. And shit, it beats working for that asshat you used to deal with. What was his name again?”

You slip back into the kitchen to throw the towel away, heels clacking against tile. “Carver,” you reply, just as the lid to the garbage falls closed. You lean back against the countertop, smoothing your sweaty palms along the sides of your skirt. “Pretty sure anyone would be better than him. I still can’t believe that Mr. Harrington came to the office looking to mitigate all that tension between Mr. Munson and Jason by trying to partner up Carver Distilleries and Corroded Coffin for a commercial, and Jason went and ruined it by running his mouth. I wish you could have seen it, Ange. Mr. Harrington was so disgusted with how he behaved, he extinguished the deal completely right there in his office.”

“Exactly, because even he knows that man is vile,” she sighs with a pout, her form slipping down from off of one of your shoddy barstools, curly blonde hair swaying around her shoulders as she walks. You snort when her hands curl around your forearms, shaking you lightly. “What did your new boss say? Something about you being more than equipped to handle this position? Didn’t he, oh I don’t know, request you specifically for his client? You’re going to be fine; in fact, you’re going to be wonderful. If there’s anyone in this world who can handle the notorious Eddie Munson, I think it’s you.”

With a newly restored confidence, you set to the bustling streets of Manhattan, sights poised on the recording studio address you were given. You thought your first day might start with something akin to an office introduction. Something, at the very least, a little less imposing than this. But you double checked your email from Mr. Harrington before you left and printed the directions that now sat clutched tight within your hands.

The building that stands before you at the end of your trek looms arresting and proud in the midst of the bodies swarming around you. Your eyes lift hesitantly to the glass door, your mirrored reflection leaping back at you. Angela’s words ring true in your ears; you are more than adequately equipped. You wouldn’t be invited here if it were not fate itself beckoning at your door. With a resigned exhale, your fingers twine around the cool, metal handle and step inside.

Schmackin’ Records is a world unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. From the moment your feet hit the mat at the front door, company logo etched into it, you know you’re no longer sitting at the front desk of Carver Distilleries. Your head tilts upward to the records dangling from the ceiling, then lower to the endless sprawling walls littered with posters boasting of accolades achieved by the success of the artists that have roamed these halls. You’re struck with the realization that you’re standing in the shadows of legends that have also trailed this path before you.

This— this place and this moment, are your current reality.

“You wouldn’t happen to be the new assistant, would you?” The woman at the front desk catches your attention. Your head whirls, fingers slipping from where they rest along a glass case affixed to the wall, proclaiming a recently obtained platinum record. Her face softens at your visible nervousness. “Sorry to scare you, dear.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! I’m… ah, I’m actually here to meet with Mr. Steve Harrington. He gave me this address….” You hold aloft the directions in your hand, heart dancing in your chest as your heeled shoes propel you over to where she sits behind a glass panel. The woman before you glimpses down at your directions printed from MapQuest with a pitying grin, her head bobbing before her fingers clack away on her keyboard.

“That’s right! Hold on one moment, sweetie.” You open your mouth to speak as she lifts a phone from its receiver and dials a number quickly. You can faintly hear a voice on the other end. “Mr. Harrington? Yes, this is Joyce speaking. Mr. Munson’s new assistant is here looking for you… okay— yes, that’s fine. Thank you, yes— I’ll let her know. Goodbye.”

Your legs plant beneath you firmly, shoulders ramrod straight, head tilted up in anticipation of your new role. Joyce only resumes in her typing, head tilted down toward her computer screen, leaving you to simmer alone in the tense silence.

“Mr. Harrington will meet you on floor five. Just take that elevator down this hall on your left,” she says, head lifting abruptly from her work.

“Thank you!”

Somehow, the directions only bring you more nervousness. The knowledge that all that stands before you and your new role is five floors. A short elevator ride. Merely a few moments in time remain stretched between you and the catapult into a lifestyle you’ve only seen on television prior to this opportunity.

Your shoes clack against the laminate flooring, a foreboding tap tap tap as you shuffle your way down the short hallway and press the call button for your elevator. The doors open with a soft ping, heart ricocheting against your ribcage as you step inside and the silver metal closes behind you. Hesitant fingers raise to press the number five, the circle bursting to life and illuminating your selection. You step into the center of the room, hands clasped at your side, eyes ahead of you on your distorted reflection upon the surface.

You settled on a simple outfit for the day. Something pristine and professional. A thin black long-sleeved shirt, pale gray tweed skirt, black tights, and dark heels. Simple and understated, though still maintaining your own preferences for stylistic choices. Those same clothes cling to you now. Your tights suddenly seem too tight, heels increasingly pinchy around the back of your heel, skirt prickly and coarse against your thighs, the neck of your sweater digging into your throat. You’re parched, though you doubt any amount of water would assist you now.

The door opens to reveal sprawling wooden walls, as well as the figure of Steve Harrington standing before you in a pair of slacks and a simple button up. He looks exceedingly kind just as he did the first time you met him. Dark, depthless eyes with a wide grin spread across finely hewn features. His fingers card through his hair as you step out to greet him, hand coming to extend before you at the ready.

“You’re here! Oh, thank god.” He shakes your hand briefly and nudges you toward the opening of a hallway, those endless panels of wooden walls surrounding you on either side. The voice that spills from him in a rush is a frantic murmur of, “I’m sorry to have contacted you on such notice. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble—”

“Oh, not at all, Mr. Harrington,” you interrupt, swallowing thickly as he pauses in stride. “Sorry.”

“No, no. Please, call me Steve. Mr. Harrington is what people call my father,” he says, smiling softly. There’s a comfort in his gaze, a warmth that oozes from him. The tightness in your chest loosens, a deep breath pouring out. “We’ve… well, his last assistant quit abruptly, you see, and therefore we were obviously left with no notice. So when you said you could start as soon as possible, it was almost a godsend.”

Your hands grip tighter to the band of your pocketbook draped over your shoulder, leather still cool from the afternoon air. “I’m here for whatever you need, Mr. Ha— Steve.”

The hallway leads to a door, dark and imposing, with a wide silver handle. His fingers curl around it and hesitate, head turning over his shoulder to gauge your expression. The worrying of your lip pauses, teeth releasing from their tense position against your skin. Your mouth quirks upward into a hopeful smile, willing those nerves bubbling to subside.

“What exactly have you heard about Eddie Munson?” he asks you.

You know he’s not expecting a true answer. Not really. You’ve done minimal research. A quick Yahoo search brings up more articles than you know what to do with in reference to the infamous Eddie Munson. Most of which had brought you to pages detailing his altercation at the Grammy Awards in 1994 and the numerous escapades he’s gotten himself into in the course of his still newly established stardom, as well as his whirlwind romance with his wife.

“Not much,” you admit, and while it is the truth, Steve seems to deflate a bit.

His shoulders drop, hand coming to run through that full head of dark hair on him once more. That easy demeanor shifts, mouth turning southward. “Eddie is… he means well. He’s just— well, he’s gone through a few assistants in the past few months, as you know. In the few years I’ve known him, I can tell you with certainty he is dedicated to his craft, but he tends to veer into the wilder aspects of life. What he needs right now is someone who can handle him, and I truly believe that person is you.”

You feel your stomach drop. Initially, when Steve had offered you the position, he boasted of a fast-paced role that required adaptability. Your previous job had been nothing but back to back phone calls, fielding all the incoming clients and their questions, managing the schedules of your manager, and ensuring all issues were handled accordingly.

Babysitting a rockstar hadn’t exactly been on your agenda; yet even despite all of that, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity and had accepted the job offer.

“And the others?” you question, hand coming to rub along your bicep.

“I wouldn’t worry about it so much,” Steve says with a shake of his head. “You handled Carver. Eddie should be a breeze.”

Carver Distilleries was not your ideal job, but it was the job you acquired shortly after a brief stint as an administrative assistant for a local community college. The company touted a prolific background of over thirty years in business and you jumped at the prospect. It had been straightforward enough most days. The phones rang around the clock and you handled the calls as expected, passed them off to their proper channels, and made sure the son of the CEO was happy at all times.

Jason Carver was, to put it lightly, the devil’s incarnate. Most days you wondered if he’d been placed in this life for the sole purpose of bringing suffering to all those around him, with a pitchfork in one hand and tail swishing behind him as he stomped through the halls of the building.

You couldn’t recall off the top of your head a day wherein he had ever been happy. Shockingly so for someone born from wealth and thrusted into the limelight, silver spoon in mouth at birth. Jason was proof that money hardly ever solved all problems.

He reigned as the crowned Prince of the company, his father’s shining star, who never raised his finger to do anything. For years, he rode on the back of his father’s coattails and treated those around them like they were beneath him, nose always upturned, sneer firmly planted on his face.

That evening you were already overwhelmed. There was an issue down in the marketing department regarding a mixup in schedules, leaving the Carver’s seated next to a family they didn’t particularly have positive dealings with at an upcoming gala. To add to the rising tension, Jason sent you on an errand to retrieve his requested cappuccino. Light foam, two sugars, extra hot. When you’d returned, he was still in a meeting with some of his fathers business executives, hidden behind a glass door. You left the cup for him there, as requested of you, and rushed back to the front desk just as Mr. Steve Harrington walked into the building.

He’d come in looking like any other businessman you’d seen grace the building in the past. Perfectly tailored suit and tie, briefcase in hand, hair coiffed neatly atop his head. Steve Harrington, though young, harnessed a professionalism about him that Jason Carver lacked. There were no sneers aimed your way as he approached the desk and greeted you pleasantly, nor did he scoff at the hand you’d extended in greeting, welcoming him with a soft thanks.

“Mr. Carver is just finishing up another meeting and will be out to retrieve you,” you advise him, walking out from behind your desk. “Would you like coffee, water… tea?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” he says, holding his briefcase tighter within his palm as he made his way over to the small couch positioned across from you, nestled beside a potted plant. You retreated back to your desk as he pulled a phone from his pocket, voice rising just enough to ask, “Do you happen to have—”

“What is this?!” Jason’s voice boomed from down the hall.

A loud thump echoed from his office, likely from something he’d tossed off his desk in frustration, and you knew well enough to duck behind the covering of your work space. You frantically thumbed the spacebar on your computer to bring it back to life, assuring everyone in your vicinity that you appeared occupied as a shock of blonde hair filled your peripheral. He’d bursted into the room with the dejected coffee in hand, hair strewn about messily atop, eyes narrowed in heedless anger.

Your eyes flickered to the cup, then settled back on the opened email on your desktop computer. The subject line held a request for a flower arrangement you were set to purchase for Jason’s wife, Chrissy, because he couldn’t be bothered to do it himself.

You let out a soft sigh and explained, “It’s the coffee you asked for.”

His nostrils flared like a bull, the embers burning behind his eyes glowing brighter. “I know it’s the coffee I asked for. I don't pay you to answer me with that sarcastic bullshit—”

“Mr. Carver—” The rise of your voice caught you both off guard, only further angering him.

His eyes narrowed, brows knitted tight across the middle of his forehead, vein pulsing against taut skin growing redder by the second. “I asked for a cappuccino with light foam, two sugars, and asked that you make sure it’s extra hot. This isn’t extra hot. This isn’t even warm. It’s cold.”

“Yes, Mr. Carver. It was hot when I left it on your desk two hours ago. Would you like me to go and get you another one?” You try your best to retain a neutral tone. You’re aware of Steve’s eyes trailing along both your forms, interrupted from his own work by your increasingly heated argument.

He barked out an incredulous laugh, head shaking. “No, I don't want you to get me another coffee. You should have known my meeting would run long and planned accordingly. I don’t know where you get the nerve to talk to me like you are when you seem to have forgotten you are no more than a rece—”

“Mr. Carver.” You both paused at the finality of your tone, throat filled with the bitter taste of the degradation he attempted to throw your way. “Your two thirty meeting for the Tennessee Maple Whiskey commercial is here.”

He clicked his tongue, shooting a glower your way. You already anticipated a meeting in his office later wherein he reminded you of all the reasons why your behavior was unacceptable and why you were lucky to still have a position at Carver Distilleries.

“Fine. Mr. Harrington, give me one moment and I will call you back into my office. I just need to finish running something by my father. As for you—” His eyes darted back to your form. “—I will deal with you later.”

You exhaled a heavy sigh of relief as the blonde haired man sauntered back down the hall, leaving you to the comfort of your generally quiet front desk. Steve still lingered there, one hand curled around his phone, the other lifting the briefcase he held off his lap to set it in the seat beside him. You watched as he rose to his feet and dropped his phone within his pocket, gliding over to your desk with a small white card in hand.

You didn’t need to read the words there to know what he’d slid across your desk. It was an instantaneous understanding, the knowledge of a new opportunity, of a way out from beneath the weight of the man who wanted nothing more than to rule with an iron fist and remind others that they were all beneath him.

He glanced briefly down the hall to ensure no one was listening and leveled his gaze with yours, voice a quieted whisper as he said, “You work well under pressure. Carver is… well, Carver’s an ass. I can offer you more money, if you happen to be looking for another job. You could travel the world working for me instead of sitting behind this desk. Let me know.”

Standing before Steve, you feel the questions swirling of the validity of the hope he’d placed inside of you. Had it been premature? He’d only seen one encounter between your prior manager and yourself. That was hardly enough to base a whole career off of, and yet his fingers tighten around the door handle all the same, ready to pull it forward and open you up to a world of newness beckoning you.

Your sweaty palms slide down the sides of your tweed skirt, fabric rustling about your thighs as you step nearer to the door, hardening your resolve.

It’s now or never, you suppose.

“Remember,” Steve warns, just as you move to step inside the recording studio. “He means well. I should also warn that he can tend to be a little… flirtatious. But I would try and pay it no mind. You’re going to be great.”

The room inside is grandiose. Roof to floor wooden paneling shrouds everything in a honey warmth. There are a couple of couches near the far wall, one of which seemingly occupied, and a coffee table that sits in front of it. You catch the slow glug of a water dispenser in the distance, nearest to a coffee station in preparation of the long night that lies ahead of you all. To your right is an open closet, then further still a bathroom. The room itself is dim, lights adjusted for a cozier feel. Intimate and fitting for the tracks that are to be laid today.

The same room, previously full of echoing laughter and vibrant conversation, fizzles into deafening silence as Steve leads you into the room, calling out, “Guys, there’s someone I'd like you to meet!” The announcement has every eye in the room darting your way, faces drawn tight to get a sight of the newest visitor. Only you’re not a visitor, because one of these men is about to be your new client. Steve turns to you then, hand lightly brushing your shoulder to nudge you forward as he says, “This right here is the new assistant, Y/N.”

A round of introductory greetings reach your ears, your voice full of certainty as you return them. “It’s great to finally meet you all.” However, you’ve yet to capture the elusive image of your client, as two of the band members stand closely together, obscuring him from your direct field of view.

Steve continues, “This is Gareth Parsons, drummer of Corroded Coffin.”

The first of the group steps forward. His shaggy head of brown hair flops as he moves, reaching forward with an extended hand in greeting. The warmth of his palm fills the space within your own, squeezing lightly. You feel a little bit of that boiling tension dissipate, the weight on your chest at the notion of a room full of new people unintentionally judging you lightening.

His voice is kind, edged with humor as he says teasingly, “Nice to finally meet Eddie’s new babysitter.”

The next band member makes himself known. He has dark skin, dark hair and lovely brown eyes, full of a kindness that has your mind easing further. Those same comforting eyes flash quickly to his bandmate, a stern flicker of his warm gaze resting on Gareth’s, the latter of the two huffing from his nose.

“Behave,” Jeff warns, voice a low murmur that has Gareth resigning to his defeat. That warm hand releases from your own and he steps back enough into the fold of the remaining members to allow Jeff to step forward. “The name’s Jeff. I’m on rhythm guitar and synth. It’s so nice to meet you.” He flashes you a white smile, and you can’t help the grin that blooms across your features at his easy acceptance of your presence.

“Thank you,” you say, truly grateful that the first two introductions have thus far proceeded smoothly. “Both of you.”

Seemingly pleased with how things are processing, Steve clears his throat. “So that’s Jeff, who you’ve now met. And then you’ve got Harry, who would be the bassist of Corroded Coffin.”

Harry steps forward, his hulking frame shadowing your own, to shake your hand. You lock your hand within his and he opens his mouth to work over the words he’s going to say when a voice cuts through the silence.

“The name is Harry Cox. And if you’re nice to him, maybe he’ll show it to you.”

“Eddie, fuckin’ really?” Jeff asks brusquely, whirling around in the Eddie Munson’s direction.

You’re not sure what to expect as the men shift and separate, bodies moving one by one to reveal the figure that’s so far remained hidden from your view. In theory, you’ve seen pictures of him. One would have to be living under a rock to not have come across a photograph of Eddie Munson somewhere. The infamous photo of the men standing around you, dated back to when they were teenagers, boyish frames huddled together in the halls of their high school before they had skyrocketed to fame at a trajectory no one ever anticipated; the clippings from not so flattering headlines showing his swift rise and downfall, leaving him on thin ice; the photos documenting his hasty nuptials to his actress wife. However, none of those compare to the intimidating figure that commands the presence of everyone around him as your hesitant eyes clash with his beneath the dark shroud of his sunglasses.

Your eyes settle on the dark swath of ripped jeans over coltish limbs. Black material stretches tight over sinewy muscle, thighs splayed out in front of him, scuffed Doc Martens thrown carelessly against the cherry wood of the coffee table. Your eyes start the slow crawl upward, tracking along black shirt stretched over his broad chest, with an equally dark leather jacket hugging his biceps. His arms rest over the top of the couch, a confident sprawl of elongated limbs against plush cushions. His face is almost feline, predatory and intimidating, most of the upper portion of his face obscured by those aviator sunglasses. The parts you can see are striking: lengthy, wavy hair that falls to his shoulders, soft and feathery against the leather jacket; those long fingers adorned with silver rings pushed flush against knuckles, broad hands covered in intricate tattoos; the pale skin over high cheekbones, an indent on his cheek that hints at a dimple if he weren't looking your way in disdain; full lips, soft nose, and the slightest hint of shadow along his jaw.

The Eddie Munson portrayed in the tabloids Angela had showed you over the years pales in comparison to the man that sits before you. This man oozes presence— owns this sort of magnetism that pulls the attention onto him in the center of the room with the mere sound of his voice.

“And that would be Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin,” Steve explains, the arresting presence of the man sitting on the couch in front of you rooting you in place.

Gareth coughs out a quiet, “Resident douche.”

Jeff shoots him another scathing look. It’s enough of a distraction to draw your attention away from your new client, uneasy laughter welling up from you. Your stare drifts momentarily to Steve, his warm smile easing your tension, hand unfurling in front of him. The gesture has you faltering, understanding his intent is for you to make a proper introduction.

You shuffle your way toward the man, disregarding the way he barely even acknowledges your presence within the room. He’s not once moved, back pressing further into the curve of couch cushions, eyes peering up over at you through the top of his sunglasses. Dark and depthless, an endless swirl of ink, devoid of any emotion that might give you insight into how he thinks this initial meeting is going. You hear it then in the vestiges of your mind. A soft howl, nearly imperceptible—the whisper of wind in the distance, echoing in your ears. A warning, an insinuation of something to come. Still, your hand stretches into the spaces between you, left to linger in the open air.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Munson.” Your voice remains firm— unwavering, despite the fact that he dismisses your hand.

Jeff scoffs from beside you, head shaking slightly as his foot comes to shove Eddie’s off of where they rest against the wooden surface. They hit the ground with a dull thud, though Eddie’s posture remains lax, facade unwavering. “She’s talking to you.”

Eddie remains silent for a time, those dark eyes sliding up over the top of his sunglasses, voice hollow as he mutters, “You can call me ‘Sir.’” It’s innocent enough until the corners of his lips tug into a salacious smirk, fingers moving to push his sunglasses further up onto the bridge of his nose, head tipping upward a bit so he’s now level with your unrelenting stare. You worked with Jason long enough to understand this game, the ploy to see if you’ll break at the first sight of tension, and you’re not falling into that trap now.

You take a step closer, hand hovering in air untouched, voice unyielding. “I’ll call you Mr. Munson, or Eddie. Take your pick.”

Gareth chuckles at your left, but your eyes remain focused on Eddie in your battle of stares. Him, veiled through darkened lenses, and you in your refusal to grant him the satisfaction of looking away for even one moment and admitting defeat. You hear that soft howling again, a quiet whir in your ears, just as Steve claps his hands and a new man enters from the recording room, voice slicing the strained silence. “This right here is Argyle. He’s the producer and sound engineer working on this project. Today, the guys will be laying down the tracks for their latest album, so you’ll be here to take care of anything Eddie might need in the interim.”

Your head turns, breath catching at the unexpected arms that loop around your shoulder, fingers reaching up to press against the hawaiian print on his shirt, those long strands of his dark hair smooth beneath your fingertips. He steps back to take you in, head bobbing animatedly as he says, “Nice to meet you, my dude—dudette. I’m the king of this music castle here. Can’t say I’ll be of much assistance, but if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.” His greeting concluded, Argyle meanders back over to his seat again, contentedly rocking the swivel chair back and forth with his feet.

There’s a sudden creak of leather that draws your attention; Steve runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the waves as his gaze darts from you to Eddie, who’s now rising from the couch. Eddie cracks his neck to the side, finally pulling off the aviators and dropping them haphazardly to the coffee table, where they skitter before meeting the magazine stack beside you. You push the top one back into place with the tip of your finger.

“Call me if you need me,” your boss says, one broad hand landing on Argyle’s shoulder, crinkling the Hawaiian print. “Good luck,” he mutters, patting him twice before moving toward the studio door.

You aren’t sure who Steve had been wishing luck to, but since his parting words don’t seem to phase the producer, you figure they must have been meant for you.

The heavy door thumps closed after him, echoing through the silent room. You can feel almost everyone's eyes on you— the outlier, the new variable in this equation, the only one here who doesn't have a pre-existing role in the narrative. As your gaze darts from one man to another in the span of that brief silence, you see a variety of expressions: curiosity, pleasantness, neutrality. But only one expression truly matters, and of course, unfortunately, it’s the expression of the only man whose gaze is averted as if reluctant to acknowledge you.

You take a moment to study your client now that you can clearly see his face, and what you see does not fill you with confidence. Eddie Munson's eyes are large and brown and framed by long, soft lashes, but there is only hardness in his dark stare. The crinkled lines at their corners would be charming, but they're wrinkled in a critical squint, not with a smile. Instead, though his lips are plush and pink, they're twisted in a faint sneer as he gazes at the plexiglass of the recording room, decidedly away from you.

He means well, Steve had said. But you can't help but think that this man doesn't look like he means anything but ill will towards you, his new assistant. Despite the welcome from others around you, it's making those new-job jitters deepen.

In the middle of your examination, those dark eyes—very suddenly and unexpectedly— flick to yours.

It's an impact you couldn't have braced for. Instantly, a rush of prickling heat crawls up your spine as if Eddie is looking through you, past skin and bone and muscle, straight to your very center. It’s a look that pins you down, flays you open, leaving you entirely exposed in its disapproval.

Blessedly, because of the time you'd worked with Jason Carver, you have perfected your customer service poker face. There is no outward appearance of your inward reaction, aside from the dampening of your palms; smoothly, you run them down textured tweed in the guise of fixing wrinkles before clearing your throat lightly.

It does the trick. The room, which had been suspended in silence following Steve's departure, suddenly stirs as Argyle spins in the chair to face you all fully, folding his hands over his belly. “Well, all right, brochachos,” he says, nodding slowly, his long curtain of black hair swaying as he does. “You ready to record some shit?”

"Fuck yeah, dude," Gareth answers immediately, pushing up from his knees, an enthusiastic smirk splitting his face as he leads the way to the recording room. Harry follows next, his hulking form shuffling from behind the coffee table. He pauses before reaching you as if he's afraid to enter your space; you shift quickly, moving closer to the coffee table to make more room as he fits himself around you.

"'Scuse me," he mumbles, and the gentle baritone of his voice coupled with the tiny tinge of pink on his cheeks makes you smile.

"No, I'm sorry," you're quick to assure him, "I was in the way."

He smiles shyly back as he passes by you, pausing by the recording room door to let Jeff enter first.

Distracted as you were by the exchange, you’re hit with a tiny spike of panic when you realize Eddie has begun to follow them, seemingly with no intention to address you again. It would leave you adrift with no direction— no inkling at all of what you can do to assist him, especially as Argyle already said he won't be much help— and that makes you act hastily. Impulsively.

Your body tilts forward, jerking after him, and your hand flutters out of its own accord, stopping just shy from making contact with his jacketed elbow. Eddie stops abruptly as his eyes dart to you; he squints as his gaze flicks down to your outstretched fingers. Your cheeks heat as you feel almost chastised, but you don’t let your embarrassment show. Instead, you let your hand drop, looking evenly into his dark brown eyes as you ask, “How can I best assist you right now, Mr. Munson? Is there anything in particular you'd like me to do?”

His stare sharpens, plush lips curving in the whisper of a smirk. “You a fan, sweetheart?” He asks, voice gritty with smoke and a quiet smugness as if he already knows the answer.

You keep Steve’s words in your mind, his warning about Eddie’s potential flirtatiousness. The shift— from thinly-veiled disdain to this— is jarring, but you figure it's probably meant to throw you off. “Of you or of Corroded Coffin?” you ask, expression carefully schooled to neutrality. Eddie's smirk tightens at the corners, grows a little more defined, but you continue before he can respond. “If I’m honest,” you tell him, “I’m not really well-acquainted with your music.”

His brows jerk, and when his eyes scan down your body before returning to yours, they’re narrowed again. “Let me guess. You’re a TLC girl? A little Backstreet Boys groupie?”

There’s a heavy shade of judgment in his voice that tells you he isn’t really interested in learning the answer, only in confirming for himself that your musical taste leaves much to be desired. You can't deny that the implication rankles you. You bristle at the thought that he presumes to know you when you've only just met, that he considers you lacking before you've given any reason for him to. The injustice of it makes you rush hot again, but not with nerves— with irritation.

Still, you maintain that mask of professionalism. You don’t let it show. “No,” you reply evenly, meeting his gaze dead-on, unhesitant and unashamed to share your preferences. “More like Smashing Pumpkins. Hole, too.” You ignore how his expression suddenly glints with salaciousness. “Though I do also appreciate harder stuff. Like Alice in Chains, for example,” you add, following it up with a small, polite smile. And it's true— you do appreciate some metal, despite it not being your go-to. It's not as though you don't like Corroded Coffin's music on principle.

But this answer doesn’t seem to excite him. Instead, Eddie’s sharp gaze dulls slightly as you refuse to play into his game. “Right,” he says, expression easing for the first time. “Well then, I do have something you can do for me, sweetheart.”

Pet name aside, it's the most pleasant he's sounded so far, and you brighten, having expected him to put up more resistance. Maybe all you needed to do was show that you were truly here to help him.

"Okay," you say, face expectant as you await his instruction.

Eddie’s lips twitch up into a tiny, crooked smile. “You see that door over there?” He flicks his finger lazily toward one of two narrow doors on the far wall, set into the wood paneling. You nod obediently, and he leans in, eyes wide and brows tugged up, pitching his voice low and soft like he’s coaching you through something secretive. “Well, inside, there’s a box. A box of all our recordings. Yeah?”

He waits until you nod again, a little more hesitantly this time. “What you can do for me is go in that box and listen to everything inside. Every album, every EP, every demo. Even the shitty garage recordings. Even the b-sides.” He pauses, tipping his chin down. And though he doesn't raise his voice, its softness sharpens to granite. “Because I’ll be goddamned if my personal assistant doesn’t even know my music.”

Your face was too eager for him not to notice the way it falls, and Eddie straightens, putting distance between you as he stuffs his hands in his back pockets, elbows jutting in satisfaction. That ghost of a smirk returns as he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, raising his chin and leveling you with one last look through his long, feathered lashes before he turns away.

His clear dismissal sinks into your chest, and you huff lightly through your nose, rushing with disappointment. Almost as if he can sense the crack in you, he whips back around abruptly; it startles you, and your spine straightens as you jerk to attention. “When we’re done recording, there’ll be a quiz,” he says, and the sharp smile on his face becomes a threat.

You can't help it— a bit of nervousness leaks through your expression then. That seems to finally please him, and Eddie releases you from his dark gaze as he, at last, joins his bandmates in the recording room. The sound of instruments tuning surges before the glass door thumps closed behind him, muffling to silence again.

Now left alone with your task assigned, you turn toward Argyle a little helplessly. He’s gazing at you with an absent smile on his face, still in the same position with his hands folded on his belly, seeming entirely unphased by the contentiousness of your new client. You exhale a quick breath, using it as a reset before asking him, “Can I get a pair of headphones and a Walkman or something?"

"Certainly, my little dudette." He points toward the same door Eddie had indicated. “There’s bound to be some somewhere in that closet.”

Lovely. You nod slowly, flashing a quick smile through pursed lips. “Thank you,” you say before turning and making your way over to help yourself.

The interior of the closet is lit by a single dangling lightbulb, and despite the polished fixings and thorough decor of the recording studio itself, this room is bare-bones in its furnishings. Metal shelving crowds the narrow walls, and the floor is plain poured concrete, barren compared to the plush rug in the lounge area. Your heels clack hollowly as you edge tentatively into the space, avoiding loose cords until you’re standing in the center of the tiny room, directly under the lightbulb. Your hands plant on your hips as you survey your surroundings: shelves and shelves of identical cardboard boxes, all unlabeled aside from an occasional errant number or acronym that means nothing to you, some stacked three high.

Of course.

It takes a good half an hour to finally uncover the correct box. Thankfully, though the labels on the outside are useless, the contents within are masking-taped with far more descriptive labels, written in a messy but still legible scrawl. When you open the box, seeing ‘CC’ on the top CD case feels promising, and a little shuffling reveals some hand-drawn album artwork complete with a coffin and bats that can't be for anyone other than Corroded Coffin. With the correct box secured, you pick your way back to the closet door, setting it down to begin your search for a Walkman, some headphones, and a tape player, since you’d seen a couple of loose cassettes in there, too.

You’re nothing if not thorough. No one can ever accuse you of not doing your job.

When you re-emerge from the closet, the recording room behind the plexiglass is not peaceful like you’d left it. It looks like a television set put on mute as you see Gareth’s hair whipping, Jeff’s shoulders swaying, Harry’s nose scrunched in a concentrated grimace, and Eddie’s lips hugging the mic, pink crawling up the base of his neck, its cords stretched tight with effort. You avert your eyes to Argyle, whose long straight curtain of ink-black hair sways with each bob of his head, his ears enveloped by an oversized pair of fancy headphones. Everyone seems to be moving in time with one another, rocking to a rhythm you can’t hear, and the utter silence in the room combined with those frenetic movements strikes you as comical as you carry your box and its contents over to the smaller couch, placing it on the cushion beside you.

As instructed, you dig out each CD and cassette, organizing them methodically in chronological order and choosing to begin with the oldest one. The faded marker on the front tells you it’s from 1986, and the marker’s haphazard scrawl matches the scrawl of sound that blares from the tape deck when you slip the headphones over your ears and depress the play button. The sound is tinny, echo-y as if it’d been recorded in someone’s garage. And you suppose it probably was. Judging by the year, you figure they were probably still in high school or not far from it when they recorded this.

The Corroded Coffin of 1986 is not particularly remarkable. The kick drum holding the beat isn’t quite precise enough, and the bass is somewhat sloppy. Not every transition is tight; sometimes a beat that should be synchronized is just a split second too soon or late, whether guitar-strum or cymbal-strike. But there’s an unmistakable energy to the sound— a fervor, an insistence that demands you pay attention. You can feel that pouring-out of teenage aggression through the growls and licks and chugging of the guitars, through the lyrics sung in that voice that, though it sounds higher and less smoky than the voice you’d heard from your client today, is still unmistakable Eddie. Corroded Coffin has something to say, and you can’t help but listen.

Your gaze drifts up to the plexiglass of the recording room. Your eyes see them as men, but your ears hear them as boys. And you can almost picture them in that garage, surrounded by brightly-striped lawn chairs and deflated pool floaties, youthful bodies jerking and swaying with no less enthusiasm than what you see before you now. When you think about it, it’s kind of touching to imagine them as young boys with nothing but a dream. Clearly, it took years of effort to become what they are now. You watch Eddie’s long-lashed eyes scrunch closed and his dark curls cling to the sides of his jaw with sweat, and a sense of wistfulness wells up inside you as you think of your client as that boy in the garage, a boy who didn’t know what he’d eventually make of himself.

You’ve only heard three songs before the play button pops up, signaling the end of the tape. Quickly, you move to the next two— more garage recordings, all short and sounding similar— before you’ve exhausted the cassettes and are ready to begin on the CDs. The first is marked as a demo from 1988, so you know it’ll likely be longer than what you’ve listened to thus far. You slip it into the player, settling back against the cushions as you begin, eyes wandering over the wood-paneled walls as you imagine Corroded Coffin recording it right here seven years ago.

It begins with the ticking of cymbals, the clatter of the snare, and the whine of a guitar. Much more polished than the garage recordings but so unmistakably eighties in its sound that you can’t help but feel your lips curl up in a little deprecating grin. Still, your foot bobs along, and you end up listening to half of it before your curiosity for more overwhelms you. You switch to their debut studio album, which is what that demo eventually became, and that same song— now track begins the same way— the ticking of cymbals mixed with a snare’s clatter, but you recognize the difference immediately.

This— this— is Corroded Coffin.

Eddie’s voice is grittier and deeper, and the band is tighter, and the addition of those grinding metallic sounds and the electronic synth parts, which have clearly evolved past that stereotypical pop-eighties style, create something truly special. You’d been truthful before when you told Eddie that you hadn’t listened to much of his music, but now that you are, you find it genuinely enjoyable.

Time passes. Argyle’s head bobs, the guys grow sweatier, and your foot steadily bobs until Pretty Hate Machine concludes. And you should move on to the next EP, but you instead find yourself skipping back, back, back until the disc whirls in a blur of muted blue and pink and the first track starts again. You close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in it until a muffled commotion of voices and thumps rouses you. It’s the guys exiting the recording room, chests heaving, shirts tacky against their chests, looking tired but pleased as they converge on Argyle in a tight circle. You watch their faces light up with smiles and eager chatter, smiling yourself as they seem all of a sudden more boyish for it. Even Eddie, whose visage was once marred with disdain for you, is grinning toothily; as the joy turns his dark eyes amber, you feel a tiny pang low in your stomach at the sight.

Nuh-uh. None of that.

It fades quickly under your quick dismissal, smothered by a reminder of the pride you take in your professionalism. He’s objectively attractive, sure. But he’s still your client, and nothing would change that.

Before long, the group around Argyle disperses. Gareth and Jeff wander towards the couches while Harry stops at the water cooler, gulping down two fills of the plastic cup dwarfed by his meaty hands. You quickly move the cardboard box beside you to the floor and pull the headphones from your ears as you watch Eddie divert from the path, heading back into the recording room without his bandmates.

“What’s he doing?” you ask Gareth as he flops down, sagging against the arm of the large couch across from you. He shakes his damp bangs out of his eyes, flicking sweat that narrowly misses you before he replies.

“He’s laying down the rest of the synth parts for the most recent track. We have to record it separately.” His lips tilt in a grin as he adds playfully, “Ed might be talented, but even he can’t sing and strum and play keys at the same time.”

You find your interest piqued as Eddie folds himself onto the bench behind the keyboard. “He doesn’t need a break?” You watch as he stretches his back with a grimace before shaking out his hands, ruddy fingers turning to a blur.

Jeff just huffs out of his nose, drawing your gaze. His dark skin is shiny with the evidence of his exertion. “Oh, he needs a break,” he says, exasperated though his eyes are fond. “He just won’t take one.”

“Yep,” Gareth adds, “He’s a stubborn bastard. Won’t stop ‘til it’s done.” Gareth and Jeff each accept a tiny plastic cup from Harry gratefully, and you shuffle closer to the couche’s arm to make room for him next to you. You tilt toward him as he sinks down carefully beside you, but it doesn’t draw your eyes. They’re stuck on Eddie, on the look on his face as he nods at Argyle: focused, as if his fatigue is nothing to him but an insect to be flicked away. Argyle nods back, tapping a button on the complex board of switches and sliders in front of him. As Eddie’s head begins to bob, you realize what they just recorded must be playing in that plexiglass box, silenced from your ears.

Before you can overthink it, you rise from the couch, the muffled thumps of your heels shifting from thick, plush rug to clack against wood. As you come up next to Argyle, he remains gazing evenly ahead, eyes never wavering as his head bobs in time with Eddie’s. You’re considering whether or not to interrupt him when, without looking at you, he asks mildly, “What can I do for you, brochacha?”

“Are you able to play it out loud?”

Argyle glances at you then. “Alright,” he drawls, stretching out the word as if impressed. “You wanna hear the bitchin’ beats? Certainly.”

And with the push of a button, the once-silent studio fills with sound.

It’s a perfect marriage of grit and polish, evoking both the garage recordings and their first album in the best way. The distortion on the vocals makes Eddie’s voice sound even more imposing than it was in person when you first met him, and you watch his shoulders rock, brow scrunched tight. “This world rejects me. This world threw me away. This world never gave me a chance; this world’s gonna have to pay.” Eddie’s voice projects over the speakers, though his plush lips are motionless now. With such ease you almost don’t notice them, his fingers begin to dance over the keys, adding a subtle electronic melody beneath the drums and grating synth.

You can feel the tension of the song— the building of something carnal, something furious brewing beneath the surface, threatening to whip your hair back from your cheeks. Its energy builds and builds as Eddie’s voice goes almost breathy underneath the effects, singing, “Something inside of me. It screams the loudest sound. Sometimes I think I could…”

You sense it’s coming, and yet you’re not prepared for it when Eddie’s voice becomes practically a howl: “I’m gonna burn this whole world down!”

The guitars, the drums, the bass and synth— they all explode out in a whirlwind of thrashing sound and driving noise as Eddie’s body rocks, fingertips turning white as he forces sound from the keys. His teeth are grit, his face is pouring sweat, and the sight of it speaks to one thing: determination.

You can’t help but admire that.

You don’t even notice that your head’s been bobbing along to the beat until it ceases, and as you grow still, it whips to the guys at the couch. This song is better than almost all their others. If the rest of the album is like this… Your eyes sparkle with the force of your excitement as you beam at them, and in their pleased smiles and behind their eyes, you can see it: pride and confidence, knowledge that this album they’re creating is going to become something big.

That feeling is effusive, bubbling in your blood as the door to the recording room opens and Eddie emerges. His curly bangs are plastered to his forehead, his eyes are ringed by dark circles and his lips sag in fatigue. Yet despite it, from within, he’s positively glowing.

Caught up in the moment, all you can do is blurt, “Holy shit.” You blink dazedly at Eddie for a moment as his face goes slack, and then he tosses his head back and laughs.

Eddie’s laugh is husky and wild, unrestrained in his amusement. Utterly unfiltered. He laughs as if you’ve told the funniest joke he’s ever heard, and it’s then you realize this is your first day on the job, and you’ve just cursed in front of your client.

Your face fills with heat, cheeks burning as you stutter, “Mr. Munson, I’m so sorry, that was entirely inappropriate—”

Eddie snorts, waving you off, looking not only unbothered but positively tickled that you’d cursed in front of him. To give yourself a moment to recover, you spin, clacking toward the water cooler to fill up one of those little plastic cups like you’d seen Harry doing earlier. You stammer past your indiscretion, and as you focus on expressing yourself, you feel the burn in your cheeks begin to recede. “I shouldn’t have forgotten myself like that. But that song was just… I mean, seriously. It was like… like a return to your roots or something, but not just that.” You pass him the cup carefully, falling back onto your hip as you cross your arms and your eyes dart to the ceiling. You’re trying to put it into words, and you feel frustrated that you’re struggling to. “Okay. It sounded like those early garage recordings where everything was just raw. It’s gritty and angry and cathartic. But it also feels so… new. Like compared to your last album, but also compared to what other bands are doing right now. You know?”

It doesn’t seem entirely adequate, but that’s all you’ve got— all you can do to express that almost intangible quality that you felt but can’t describe. You finally let your chin drop to meet Eddie’s eyes and are surprised to see them no longer dark and shuttered or squinty with mirth. Eddie’s eyes are wide and bright, amber like sun shining through whiskey as they stare unwaveringly into yours.

"Yeah, you picked up on that?” For once, there isn’t a sharp edge to his voice; in fact, he sounds almost pleased. “With this album we're experimenting with something a little different, really trying to focus on the textures and moods. Trying to find ways to create sound that’s not music. Not in a traditional sense, at least.”

You nod eagerly, caught up by the enthusiasm in his voice. “Yeah! That’s it. I don’t listen to metal much, but it just doesn’t sound like what you typically hear nowadays.”

Eddie crosses his arms, holding his elbows as his tongue plays against the inside of his cheek. “You’re right,” he concedes, so easily that it comes as a surprise. “In a way, we are going back to our roots; all the way back to being the freaks who don’t want to be packaged up in some neat box. Especially seeing where this industry is going. Like, I’m watching bands that got me through the hellscape of high school crumbling and folding to the pressure. I mean, fuck.” A whip of sweat-damp curls as he shakes his head, his gaze heating with molten passion, pinning you so intently that you couldn’t look away if you tried. “Do you realize the irony of a genre that prides itself on being anti-establishment becoming part of the establishment?”

“Fuckin’ bullshit, man,” Gareth pipes up from the couch, and Eddie’s arm flies out, an eager finger shaking in his direction as his eyes go wide and almost wild.

“Fuck-ing bullshit,” Eddie enunciates, and as his voice roughens, he almost seems to puff up with the strength of his ranting. “Look, I do get it. They’re not the first to end up caught in the wheel; happens before you even realize it. But you know what you’re left with at the end of the day? Jack fucking squat. And we’re just as angry and powerless as we were as kids.” He jams two ruddy fingertips against his open palm, brows raised in emphasis as if willing you to understand. “This— this music was our escape back then. And it’s going to be our escape now. And I don’t give a fuck what anyone says about it.”

He’s nearly craning over you now, breath hot as it puffs against your face, face drawn tight with his fervor. But you aren’t afraid. Because though he’s nearly yelling, Eddie’s ire isn’t directed at you. Your expression doesn’t harden up or crumble under the weight of his passion; instead, you accept it, letting it whip against you without faltering.

Your steadfastness seems to temper him as the tension in his face eases slightly, though he doesn’t back away. More quietly, he says, “All they want is the next sound-bite, the next commercial success. Sorry, Arg,” he throws a glance toward his producer, “but I honestly don’t give a shit whether there’s even one song on this album that would be a successful single. It’s not meant to be consumed that way— picked apart like fuckin’ buzzards on a corpse.”

Eddie’s amber eyes hold you as he breathes, “This album is raw. It’s ugly, and it’s personal—”

His words choke in his throat, and for a moment, there’s something tentative connecting you, drawn thin between your gazes. Something fragile but nearly tangible, like the foam of the sea that bubbles against sand but melts to nothing if you reach for it.

But then Eddie blinks, and the connection is severed as he seems to realize he’s talking to you: his personal assistant.

His glorified babysitter.

All at once, the passion is gone. He flattens, taking a step back. And there is no preamble to the sudden switch in his demeanor as he demands, “Where’s our dinner?”

the next chapter will be released on @abibliophobiaa's blog!

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